MORAL.

"Hic altera siccoScylla mari latrat; hic pulverulenta Charybdis."[58]

Meanwhile Darius assembles new forces. Alexander leaves Egypt and rushes to meet him. There is an eclipse of the moon, which causes a sedition among his soldiers, who dare to accuse their king. The phenomenon is explained by the soothsayers, and the sedition is appeased.

The fourth book opens with a funeral. It is of the queen of the Persian monarch. Alexander laments her with tears. Darius learns at the same time her death and the generosity of his enemy. He addresses prayers to the gods for the latter, and offers propositions of peace. Alexander refuses these, and proceeds to render funeral honors to the queen of the king he was about to meet in battle. Then comes an invention of the poet, which may have suggested afterwards to Dante that most beautiful passage of the "Purgatorio," where great scenes are sculptured on the walls. At the summit of a mountain a tomb is constructed by the skilful Hebrew Apelles, to receive the remains of the Persian queen; and on this tomb are carved, not only kings and names of Greek renown, but histories from the beginning of the world:—

"Nec solum reges et nomina gentis Achææ,Sed generis notat hisorias, ab origine mundiIncipiens."

Here in breathing gold is the creation in six days; the fall of man, seduced by the serpent; Cain a wanderer; the increase of the human race; vice prevailing over virtue; the deluge; the intoxication of Noah; the story of Esau, of Jacob, of Joseph; the plagues of Egypt,—

"Hic dolet Ægyptus denis percussa flagellis";

the flight of the Israelites,—

"et puro livescit pontus in auro";

the manna in the wilderness; the giving of the law; the gushing of water from the rock; and then the succession of Hebrew history, stretching through a hundred verses, to the reign of Esdras,—

"Totaque picturæ series finitur in Esdra."

After these great obsequies Alexander marches at once against Darius. And here the poet dwells on the scene presented by the Persian army watching by its camp-fires. Helmets rival the stars; the firmament is surprised to see fires like its own reflected from bucklers, and fears lest the earth be changed into sky and the night become day. Instead of the sun, there is the helmet of Darius, which shines like Phœbus himself, and at its top a stone of flame, obscuring the stars and yielding only to the rays of the sun: for, as much as it yields to the latter, so much does it prevail over the former. The youthful chieftain, under the protection of a benignant divinity, passes the night in profound repose. His army is all marshalled for the day, and he still sleeps. He is waked, gives the order for battle, and harangues his men. The victory of Arbela is at hand.

The fifth book is occupied by a description of this battle. Here are episodes in imitation of the ancients, with repetitions or parodies of Virgil. The poet apostrophizes the unhappy, defeated Darius, as he is about to flee, saying,—"Whither do you go, O King, about to perish in useless flight? You do not know, alas! lost one, you do not know from whom you flee. While you flee from one enemy, you run upon other enemies. Desiring to escape Charybdis, you run upon Scylla."

"Quo tendis inerti,Rex, periture, fuga? Nescis, heu! perdite, nescisQuern fugias; hostesque incurris, dum fugis hostem;Incidis in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim."[59]

The Persian monarch finds safety at last in Media, and Alexander enters Babylon in triumph, surpassing all other triumphs, even those of ancient Rome: and this is merited,—so sings the poet,—for his exploits are above those of the most celebrated warriors, whether sung by Lucan in his magnificent style, or by Claudian in his pompous verses. The poet closes this book by referring to the condition of Christianity in his own age, and exclaiming, that, if God, touched by the groans and the longings of his people, would accord to the French such a king, the true faith would soon shine throughout the universe.

The sixth book exhibits the luxury of Alexander at Babylon, the capture of Susa, the pillage of Persepolis. Here the poet forgets the recorded excesses of his hero with Thais by his side, and the final orgy when the celebrated city was given to the flames at the bidding of a courtesan; but he dwells on an incident of his own invention, which is calculated to excite emotions of honor rather than of condemnation. Alexander meets three thousand Greek prisoners, wretchedly humiliated by the Persians, and delivers them. He leaves to them the choice of returning to Greece, or of fixing themselves in the country there on lands which he promises to distribute. Some propose to return. Others insist, that, in their hideous condition, they cannot return to the eyes of their families and friends, when an orator declares that it is always pleasant to see again one's country, that there is nothing shameful in the condition caused by a barbarous enemy, and that it is unjust to those who love them to think that they will not be glad to see them. A few follow the orator; but the larger part remain behind, and receive from their liberator the land which he had promised, also money, flocks, and all that was necessary for a farmer.

The seventh book exhibits the treason of Bessus substantially as in Quintus Curtius. Darius, with chains of gold on his feet, is carried in a covered carriage to be delivered up. Alexander, who was still in pursuit of his enemy, is horror-struck by the crime. He moves with more rapidity to deliver or to avenge the Persian monarch than he had ever moved to his defeat. He is aroused against the criminals, like Jupiter pursuing the giants with his thunder. Darius is found in his carriage covered with wounds and bathed in his blood. With the little breath that remains, and while yet struggling on the last confines of life, he makes a long speech, which the poet follows with bitter ejaculations of his own against his own age, beginning with venal Simon and his followers, and ending with the assassins of Thomas à Becket:—

"Non adeo ambiret cathedraæ venalis honoremJam vetus ille Simon, non incentiva malorumPollueret sacras funesta pecunia sedes."

Thus here again the poet precedes Dante, whose terrible condemnation of Simon has a kindred bitterness:—

"O Simon mago, o miseri seguaci,Che le cose di Dio, che di bontateDenno essere spose, voi rapaciPer oro e per argento adulterate."

These ejaculations are closed by an address to the manes of Darius, and a promise to immortalize him in the verse of the poet. The grief of Alexander for the Persian queen is now renewed for the sovereign. The Hebrew Apelles is charged to erect in his honor a lofty pyramid in white marble, with sculptures in gold. Four columns of silver, with base and capitals of gold, support with admirable art a concave vault where are represented the three continents of the terrestrial globe, with their rivers, forests, mountains, cities, and people. In the characteristic description of each nation, France has soldiers and Italy wine:—

"Francia militibus, celebri Campania Bacco."

From funeral the poet passes to festival, and portrays the banquets and indulgence to which Alexander now invites his army. A sedition ensues. The soldiers ask to return to theircountry. Alexander makes an harangue, and awakens in them the love of glory. They swear to affront all dangers, and to follow him to the end of the world.

The eighth book chronicles the march into Hyrcania; the visit of Talestris, queen of the Amazons, and her Amazonian life, with one breast burnt so as to accommodate the bent bow; then the voluntary sacrifice of all the immense booty of the conqueror, as an example for the troops; then the conspiracy against Alexander in his own camp; then the examination and torture of the Son of Parmenio, suspected of complicity; and then the doom of Bessus, the murderer of Darius, who is delivered by Alexander to the brother of his victim. Then comes the expedition to Scythia. The Macedonian, on the banks of the Tanaïs, receives an embassy. The ambassador fails to delay him: he crosses the river, and reduces the deserts and the mountains of Scythia to his dominion. And here the poet likens this people, which, after resisting so many powerful nations, now falls under the yoke, to a lofty, star-seeking Alpine fir,astra petens abies, which, after resisting for ages all the winds of the east, of the west, and of the south, falls under the blows of Boreas. The name of the conqueror becomes a terror, and other nations in this distant region submit voluntarily, without a blow.

The ninth book commences with a mild allusion to the murder of Clitus, and other incidents, teaching that the friendships of kings are not perennial:—

"Eternim testatur eorumFinis amicitias regum non esse perennes."

Here comes the march upon India. Kings successively submit. Porus alone dares to resist. With a numerous army he awaits the Macedonian on the Hydaspes. The two armies stand face to face on opposite banks. Then occurs the episode of two youthful Greeks, Nicanor and Symmachus, born the same day, and intimate, like Nisus and Euryalus. Their perilous expedition fails, under the pressure of numbers, and the two friends, cut off and wounded, after prodigies of valor, at last embrace, and die in each other's arms. Then comes the great battle. Porus, vanquished, wounded, and a prisoner, is brought before Alexander. His noble spirit touches the generous heart of the conqueror, who returns to him his dominions, increases them, and places him in the number of friends,—

"Odium clementia vicit."

The gates of the East are now open. His movement has the terror of thunder breaking in the middle of the night,—

"Quean sequitur fragor et fractæ collisio nubis."

A single city arrests the triumphant march. Alexander besieges it, and himself mounts the first to the assault. His men are driven back. Then from the top of the ladder, instead of leaping back, he throws himself into the city, and alone confronts the enemy. Surrounded, belabored, wounded, he is about to perish, when his men, learning his peril, redouble their efforts, burst open the gates, inundate the place, and massacre the inhabitants. After a painful operation, Alexander is restored to his army and to his great plans of conquest. The joy of the soldiers, succeeding their sorrow, is likened to that of sailors, who, after seeing the pilot overboard, and ready to be ingulfed by the raging floods, as Boreas dances,Borea bacchante, at last behold him rescued from the abyss and again at the helm. But the army is disturbed by the preparation for distant maritime expeditions. Alexander avows that the world is too small for him; that, when it is all conquered, he will push on to subjugate another universe; that he will lead them to the Antipodes and to another Nature; and that, if they refuse to accompany him, he will go forth alone and offer himself as chief to other people. The army is on fire with this answer, and vow again never to abandon their king.

The tenth book is the last. Nature, indignant that a mortal should venture to penetrate her hidden places, suspends her unfinished works, and descendsto the world below for succor against the conqueror. Before the gates of Erebus, under the walls of the Stygian city,—

"Ante fores Erebi, Stygiæ sub mœnibus urbis,"—

are sisters, monsters of the earth, representing every vice,—thirst of gold, drunkenness, gluttony, treachery, detraction, envy, hypocrisy, adulation. In a distant recess is a perpetual furnace, where crimes are punished, but not with equal flames, as some are tormented more lightly and others more severely. Leviathan was in the midst of his furnace, but he drops his serpent form and assumes that divine aspect which he had worn when he wished to share the high Olympus,—

"Cum sidere solusClarior intumuit, tantamque superbia mentemExtulit, ut summum partiri vellet Olympum."

To him the stranger appeals against the projects of Alexander, which extend on one side to the unknown sources of the Nile and the Garden of Paradise, and on the other to the Antipodes and ancient Chaos. The infernal monarch convenes his assembly. He calls the victims from their undying torments,—

"quibus morsEst non posse mori,"—

where ice and snow are punishments, as well as fire. The satraps of Styx are collected, and the ancient serpent addresses sibilations from his hoarse throat:—

"Hie ubi collecti satrapæ Stygis et tenebrarum,Consedere duces, et gutture sibila raucoEdidit antiquus serpens."

He commands the death of the Macedonian king before his plans can be executed. Treason rises and proposes poison. All Hell applauds; and Treason, in disguise, fares forth to instruct the agent. The whole scene suggests sometimes Dante and sometimes Milton. Each was doubtless familiar with it. Meanwhile Alexander returns to Babylon. The universe is in suspense, not knowing to which side he will direct his arms. Ambassadors from all quarters come to his feet. In the pride of power he seems to be universal lord. At a feast, surrounded by friends, he drinks the fatal cup. His end approaches, and he shows to the last his grandeur and his courage. The poet closes, as he began, with a salutation to his patron.

Such is the sketch of a curiosity of literature. It is interesting to look upon this little book, which for a time played so considerable a part; to imagine the youthful students who were once nurtured by it; to recognize its relations to an age when darkness was slowly yielding to light; to note its possible suggestions to great poets who followed, especially to Dante; and to behold it lost to human knowledge, and absolutely forgotten, until saved by a single verse, which, from its completeness of form and its proverbial character, must live as long as the Latin language endures. The verse does not occupy much room; but it is a sure fee simple for the poet. And are we not told by an ancient, that it is something, in whatever place or recess you may be, to have made yourself master of a single lizard?

"Est aliquid, quocumque loco, quocumque recessu,Unius sese dominum fecisse lacertæ."

A poem of ten books shrinks to a very petty space. There is a balm of a thousand flowers, and here is a single hexameter which is the express essence of many times a thousand verses. It was the jest of the grave-digger, in "Hamlet," that the noble Alexander, returning to dust and loam, had stopped a bung-hole. But the memorable poem celebrating him is reduced as much, although it may be put to higher uses.

At the conclusion of a fable there is a moral, or, as it is sometimes called, the application. There is also a moral now, or, if you please, the application. And, believe me, in these serious days, I should have little heart for any literary diversion, if I did not hope to make it contribute to those just principles which are essential to the well-being, if not the safety of the Republic. To thisend I have now written. This article is only a long whip with a snapper to it.

Two verses saved from the wreck of a once popular poem have become proverbs, and one of these is very famous. They inculcate clemency, and that common sense which is found in not running into one danger to avoid another. Never was their lesson more needed than now, when, in the name of clemency to belligerent traitors, the National Government is preparing to abandon the freedmen, to whom it is bound by the most sacred ties; is preparing to abandon the national creditor also, with whose security the national welfare is indissolubly associated; and is even preparing, without any probation or trial, to invest belligerent traitors, who for four bloody years have murdered our fellow-citizens, with those Equal Rights in the Republic which are denied to friends and allies, so that the former shall rule over the latter. Verily, here is a case for common sense.

The lesson of clemency is of perpetual obligation. Thanks to the mediæval poet for teaching it. Harshness is bad. Cruelty is detestable. Even justice may relent at the prompting of mercy. Do not fail, then, to cultivate the grace of clemency. Perhaps no scene in history is more charming than that of Cæsar, who, after vows against an enemy, listened calmly to the appeal for pardon, and, as he listened, let the guilty papers fall from his hand. Early in life he had pleaded in the Senate for the lives of conspirators; and afterwards, when supreme ruler of the Roman world, he practised the clemency he had once defended, unless where enemies were incorrigible, and then he knew how to be stern and positive. It is by example that we are instructed; and we may well learn from the great master of clemency that the general welfare must not be sacrificed to this indulgence. And we may learn also from the Divine Teacher, that, even while forgiving enemies, there are Scribes and Pharisees who must be exposed, and money-changers who must be scourged from the temple. But with us there are Scribes and Pharisees, and there are also criminals, worse than any money-changers, who are now trying to establish themselves in the very temple of our government.

Cultivate clemency. But consider well what is embraced in this charity. It is not required that you should surrender the Republic into the hands of pardoned criminals. It is not required that you should surrender friends and allies to the tender mercies of these same pardoned criminals. Clearly not. Clemency has its limitations; and when it transcends these, it ceases to be a virtue, and is only a mischievous indulgence. Of course, one of these limitations, never to be disregarded, is thegeneral security, which is the first duty of government. No pardon can be allowed to imperil the nation; nor can any pardon be allowed to imperil those who have a right to look to us for protection. There must be no vengeance upon enemies; but there must be no sacrifice of friends. And here is the distinction which cannot be forgotten.Nothing for vengeance; everything for justice.Follow this rule, and the Republic will be safe and glorious. Thus wrote Marcus Aurelius to his colleague and successor in empire, Lucius Verus. These words are worthy to be repeated now by the chief of the Republic:—

"Ever since the FatesPlaced me upon the throne, two aims have IKept fixed before my eyes; and they are these,—Not to revenge me on my enemies,And not to be ungrateful to my friends."

It is easy for the individual to forgive. It is easy also for the Republic to be generous. But forgiveness of offences must not be a letter of license to crime; it must not be a recognition of an ancient tyranny, and it must not be a stupendous ingratitude. There is a familiar saying, with the salt of ages, which is addressed to us now:—"Be just before you are generous." Be just to all before you are generous to the few. Be just to the millionsonly half rescuedfrom oppression, before you are generous to their cruel taskmasters. Do not imitate that precious character in thegallery of old Tallemant de Réaux, of whom it was said, that he built churches without paying his debts.[60]Our foremost duties now are to pay our debts, and these are twofold:—first, to the national freedman; and, secondly, to the national creditor.

Apply these obvious principles practically. A child can do it. No duty of clemency can justify injustice. Therefore, in exercising the beautiful power of pardon at this moment in our country, several conditions must be observed.

(1.) As a general rule, belligerent traitors, who have battled against the country, must not be permittedat once, without probation or trial, to resume their old places of trust and power. Such a concession would be clearly against every suggestion of common sense, and President Johnson clearly saw it so, when, addressing his fellow-citizens of Tennessee, 10th June, 1864, he said,—"I say that traitors should take a back seat in the work of restoration. If there be but five thousand men in Tennessee, loyal to the Constitution, loyal to freedom, loyal to justice, these true and faithful men should control the work of reorganization and reformation absolutely."

(2.) Especially are we bound, by every obligation of justice and by every sentiment of honor, to see to it that belligerent traitors, who have battled against their country, are not allowed to rule the constant loyalists, whether white or black, embracing the recent freedmen, who have been our friends and allies.

(3.) Let belligerent traitors be received slowly and cautiously back into the sovereignty of citizenship. It is better that they should wait than that the general security be imperilled, or our solemn obligations, whether to the national freedman or the national creditor, be impaired.

(4.) Let pardons issue only on satisfactory assurance that the applicant, who has been engaged for four years in murdering our fellow-citizens, shall sustain the Equal Rights, civil and political, of all men, according to the principles of the Declaration of Independence; that he shall pledge himself to the support of the national debt; and, if he be among the large holders of land, that he shall set apart homesteads for all his freedmen.

Following these simple rules, clemency will be a Christian virtue, and not a perilous folly.

The other proverb has its voice also, saying plainly, Follow common sense, and do not, while escaping one danger, rush upon another. You are now escaping from the whirlpool of war, which has threatened to absorb and ingulf the Republic. Do not rush upon the opposite terror, where another shipwreck of a different kind awaits you, while Sirens tempt with their "song of death." Take warning:Seeking to escape from Charybdis, do not rush upon Scylla.

Alas! the Scylla on which our Republic is now driving is that old rock ofconcession and compromisewhich from the beginning of our history has been a constant peril. It appeared in the convention which framed the National Constitution, and ever afterwards, from year to year, showed itself in Congress, until at last the Oligarchy, nursed by our indulgence, rebelled. And now that the war is over, it is proposed to invest this same Rebel Oligarchy with a new lease of immense power, involving the control over loyal citizens, whose fidelity to the Republic has been beyond question. Here, too, are Sirens, in the shape of belligerent traitors, suing softly that the Republic may be lured to the old concession and compromise.Alas! that, escaping from Charybdis, we should rush upon Scylla!

FOOTNOTES:[3]Æneis, Lib. III. v. 420.[4]Book XII.[5]Book II. v. 660.[6]Ibid. v. 1016.[7]Merchant of Venice, Act III. Sc. 5.[8]ErasmiOpera, Tom. II. p. 183;AdagiorumChil. I. cent. v. prov. 4.[9]ErasmiAdagia, ubi supra.[10]Ibid.[11]Jortin'sErasmus, Vol. II. p. 163, note.[12]Opera, Tom. II. p. 645;Epist.574.[13]For a glimpse of this interesting character, see Tiraboschi,Storia della Letteratura Italiana, Tom. VI. pp 289-294; Michaud,Biographie Universelle, nomenGaleotto Marzio.[14]Tom. I. p. 276, Liv. III. cap. 29.[15]Ménagiana, Tom. I. p. 177.[16]Vol. II. 285.[17]Tom. XV. p. 117.[18]History of English Poetry, Vol. I. p. clxviii.[19]Vol. I. p. 510.[20]Vol. V. p. 256.[21]Della Storia e della Ragione d' ogni Poesia, Tom. VI. p. 480.[22]Magasin Encyclopédique, Tom II. p. 52.[23]Millin,Magasin Encyclopédique, Tom. III. p. 181;Journal des Savans, Avril, 1760.[24]Ritson'sBibliographia Poetica, p. 228.[25]For a list of His works see Watt'sBibliotheca Britannia,nomenEchlin.[26]Beloe'sAnecdotes of Literature, Vol. V. pp. 255-260.[27]Ibid. p. 256.[28]Millin,Magasin Encyclop.Tom. III. p. 181.[29]From a priced catalogue of Mr. Steevens's sale it appears that his copy, which was the edition of Lyons, brought £2 2s.in 1800.Cat.No. 514.[30]Anecdotes of Literature, Vol. V. p. 258.[31]See also Graesse,Trésor de Livres rares et précieux, ou Nouveau Dictionnaire Bibliographique,nomenGalterus; Millin,Mag. Encyc.Tom. III. p. 181; Senebier,MSS. Franc. de la Bibliothèque de Genève, p. 235;Allg. Lit. Anz.1799. pp. 84. 263, 1233, 1858;Sitzungsber. der Wien. Acad.T. XIII. p. 314; Giesebrecht,Allg. Zeits. für Wiss. und Lit.1853, p. 344.[32]Tom. VI. p. 328.[33]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XV. p. 100.[34]Ibid, Tom. XVI. p. 537.[35]The latter mistake is gravely made by Quadrio, in his great jumble of literary history, Tom. VI. p. 480; also by Peerlkamp,De Poetis Latinis Nederlandorum, p. 15. See also Édélestand du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, p. 149.[36]Alexandreïs, Lib. X.ad finem.[37]Graesse, in hisTrésor de Livres Rares, which ought to be accurate, makes a strange mistake in calling GualterusEpiscopus Insulanus. He was never more than a canon, and held no post at Lille. Fabricius entitles him simplyMagisterPhilippus Gualterus de Castellione, Insulanus.Bibliotheca Lat. Med. et Inf. Ætotis, Tom. VI. p. 328. See also Wright'sLatin Poems, Preface, xviii.[38]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XV. p. 101[39]Édélestand du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, pp. 144-163; Wright,Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes.[40]Historia Poematum Medii Ævi.[41]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XVI. p. 183.[42]Poésies Latines Populaires, p. 149.[43]Millin,Magasin Encyclop.Tom. II, p. 52.[44]Michaud,Biographie Universelle,nomenGaultier.[45]Recherches de la France, Cap. 29, Tom. I. p. 276.[46]Warton,English Poetry, Vol. I. p. clxix.; Dissertation II.[47]Ibid.[48]Fabricius,Bibliotheca, Tom. IV. c. 2.[49]Ibid. Tom. VI. p. 328. See also Leyser,Historia Poematum Medii Ævi,nomenGalterus.[50]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XV. p. 118.[51]Warton,History of English Poetry, Vol. I. p. clxix.; also p. 132.[52]Madox,Hist. Exchequer, pp. 249-259.[53]Gray,Observations on English Metre.[54]Warton,History of English Poetry, Vol. I. p 133.[55]Vossius,De Poetis Latinis, p. 74. is mistaken in saying that it had nine books instead of ten. See alsoMénagiana, Tom. I. P. 177.[56]Inferno, Canto XXXIII.[57]This is the passage translated into blank verse by the early English poet, Grimoald Nicholas.[58]There is a contemporary poem in leonine verses on the death of Thomas à Becket, with the same allusion to opposite dangers:—"Ut post Syrtes mittitur in Charybdim navis,Flatibus et fluctibus transitis tranquille,Tutum portus impulit in latratus Scyllæ."Du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, p. 82.[59]Some of the expressions of this passage may be compared with other writers. See BurmanniAnthologia Latina, Vol. I. pp. 152, 163; OvidiiMetam.Lib. I. 514.[60]"C'était un homme qui battait des églises sans payer ses dettes."

[3]Æneis, Lib. III. v. 420.

[4]Book XII.

[5]Book II. v. 660.

[6]Ibid. v. 1016.

[7]Merchant of Venice, Act III. Sc. 5.

[8]ErasmiOpera, Tom. II. p. 183;AdagiorumChil. I. cent. v. prov. 4.

[9]ErasmiAdagia, ubi supra.

[10]Ibid.

[11]Jortin'sErasmus, Vol. II. p. 163, note.

[12]Opera, Tom. II. p. 645;Epist.574.

[13]For a glimpse of this interesting character, see Tiraboschi,Storia della Letteratura Italiana, Tom. VI. pp 289-294; Michaud,Biographie Universelle, nomenGaleotto Marzio.

[14]Tom. I. p. 276, Liv. III. cap. 29.

[15]Ménagiana, Tom. I. p. 177.

[16]Vol. II. 285.

[17]Tom. XV. p. 117.

[18]History of English Poetry, Vol. I. p. clxviii.

[19]Vol. I. p. 510.

[20]Vol. V. p. 256.

[21]Della Storia e della Ragione d' ogni Poesia, Tom. VI. p. 480.

[22]Magasin Encyclopédique, Tom II. p. 52.

[23]Millin,Magasin Encyclopédique, Tom. III. p. 181;Journal des Savans, Avril, 1760.

[24]Ritson'sBibliographia Poetica, p. 228.

[25]For a list of His works see Watt'sBibliotheca Britannia,nomenEchlin.

[26]Beloe'sAnecdotes of Literature, Vol. V. pp. 255-260.

[27]Ibid. p. 256.

[28]Millin,Magasin Encyclop.Tom. III. p. 181.

[29]From a priced catalogue of Mr. Steevens's sale it appears that his copy, which was the edition of Lyons, brought £2 2s.in 1800.Cat.No. 514.

[30]Anecdotes of Literature, Vol. V. p. 258.

[31]See also Graesse,Trésor de Livres rares et précieux, ou Nouveau Dictionnaire Bibliographique,nomenGalterus; Millin,Mag. Encyc.Tom. III. p. 181; Senebier,MSS. Franc. de la Bibliothèque de Genève, p. 235;Allg. Lit. Anz.1799. pp. 84. 263, 1233, 1858;Sitzungsber. der Wien. Acad.T. XIII. p. 314; Giesebrecht,Allg. Zeits. für Wiss. und Lit.1853, p. 344.

[32]Tom. VI. p. 328.

[33]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XV. p. 100.

[34]Ibid, Tom. XVI. p. 537.

[35]The latter mistake is gravely made by Quadrio, in his great jumble of literary history, Tom. VI. p. 480; also by Peerlkamp,De Poetis Latinis Nederlandorum, p. 15. See also Édélestand du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, p. 149.

[36]Alexandreïs, Lib. X.ad finem.

[37]Graesse, in hisTrésor de Livres Rares, which ought to be accurate, makes a strange mistake in calling GualterusEpiscopus Insulanus. He was never more than a canon, and held no post at Lille. Fabricius entitles him simplyMagisterPhilippus Gualterus de Castellione, Insulanus.Bibliotheca Lat. Med. et Inf. Ætotis, Tom. VI. p. 328. See also Wright'sLatin Poems, Preface, xviii.

[38]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XV. p. 101

[39]Édélestand du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, pp. 144-163; Wright,Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes.

[40]Historia Poematum Medii Ævi.

[41]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XVI. p. 183.

[42]Poésies Latines Populaires, p. 149.

[43]Millin,Magasin Encyclop.Tom. II, p. 52.

[44]Michaud,Biographie Universelle,nomenGaultier.

[45]Recherches de la France, Cap. 29, Tom. I. p. 276.

[46]Warton,English Poetry, Vol. I. p. clxix.; Dissertation II.

[47]Ibid.

[48]Fabricius,Bibliotheca, Tom. IV. c. 2.

[49]Ibid. Tom. VI. p. 328. See also Leyser,Historia Poematum Medii Ævi,nomenGalterus.

[50]Histoire Littéraire, Tom. XV. p. 118.

[51]Warton,History of English Poetry, Vol. I. p. clxix.; also p. 132.

[52]Madox,Hist. Exchequer, pp. 249-259.

[53]Gray,Observations on English Metre.

[54]Warton,History of English Poetry, Vol. I. p 133.

[55]Vossius,De Poetis Latinis, p. 74. is mistaken in saying that it had nine books instead of ten. See alsoMénagiana, Tom. I. P. 177.

[56]Inferno, Canto XXXIII.

[57]This is the passage translated into blank verse by the early English poet, Grimoald Nicholas.

[58]There is a contemporary poem in leonine verses on the death of Thomas à Becket, with the same allusion to opposite dangers:—"Ut post Syrtes mittitur in Charybdim navis,Flatibus et fluctibus transitis tranquille,Tutum portus impulit in latratus Scyllæ."Du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, p. 82.

[58]There is a contemporary poem in leonine verses on the death of Thomas à Becket, with the same allusion to opposite dangers:—

"Ut post Syrtes mittitur in Charybdim navis,Flatibus et fluctibus transitis tranquille,Tutum portus impulit in latratus Scyllæ."Du Méril,Poésies Populaires Latines, p. 82.

[59]Some of the expressions of this passage may be compared with other writers. See BurmanniAnthologia Latina, Vol. I. pp. 152, 163; OvidiiMetam.Lib. I. 514.

[60]"C'était un homme qui battait des églises sans payer ses dettes."

The old Oligarchy conducted all its operations in the name of State Rights, and in this name it rebelled. And when the Republic sought to suppress the Rebellion, it was replied, that a State could not be coerced. Now that the Rebellion is overthrown, and a just effort is made to obtain that "security for the future" without which the war will have been in vain, the same cry of State Rights is raised, and we are told again that aState cannot be coerced,—as if the same mighty power which directed armies upon the Rebellion could be impotent to exact all needful safeguards. It was to overcome these pretensions, and stampE Pluribus Unumupon the Republic, that we battled in war; and now we surrender to these tyrannical pretensions again. Escaping from war, we rush upon the opposite peril,—as from Charybdis to Scylla.

Again, we are told gravely, that the national power which decreed emancipation cannot maintain it by assuring universal enfranchisement, because an imperial government must be discountenanced,—as if the whole suggestion of "imperialism" or "centralism" were not out of place, until the national security is established, and our debts, whether to the national freedman or the national creditor, are placed where they cannot be repudiated. A phantom is created, and, to avoid this phantom, we rush towards concession and compromise,—as from Charybdis to Scylla.

Again, we are reminded that military power must yield to the civil power and to the rights of self-government. Therefore the Rebel States must be left to themselves, each with full control over all, whether white or black, within its borders, and empowered to keep alive a Black Code abhorrent to civilization and dangerous to liberty. Here, again, we rush from one peril upon another. Every exercise of military power is to be regretted, and yet there are occasions when it cannot be avoided. War itself is the transcendent example of this power. But the transition from war to peace must be assured by all possible safeguards. "Civil power and self-government cannot be conceded to belligerent enemies until after the establishment of security for the future." Such security is an indispensable safeguard, without which there will be new disaster to the country. Therefore, in escaping from military power, care must be taken that we do not run upon the opposite danger,—as from Charybdis to Scylla.

Again, it is said solemnly, that "we must trust each other"; which, being interpreted, means, that the Republic must proceed at once to trust the belligerent enemies who have for four years murdered our fellow-citizens. Of course, this is only another form of concession. In trusting them, we give them political power, including the license to oppress loyal persons, whether white or black, and especially the freedman. For four years we have met them in battle; and now we rush to trust them, and to commit into their keeping the happiness and well-being of others. There is peril in trusting such an enemy, more even than in meeting him on the field. God forbid that we rush now upon this peril,—as from Charybdis to Scylla!

The true way is easy. Follow common sense. Seeking to avoid one peril, do not rush upon another. Consider how everything of worth or honor is bound up with the national security and the national faith; and that until these are fixed beyond change, agriculture, commerce, and industry of all kinds must suffer. Capital cannot stay where justice is denied. Emigration must avoid a land blasted by the spirit of caste. Cotton itself will refuse to grow until labor is assured its just reward. By natural consequence, that same Barbarism which has drenched the land in blood will continue to prevail, with wrong, outrage, and the insurrections of an oppressed race; the national name will be dishonored, and the national power will be weakened. But the way is plain to avoid these calamities.Follow common sense; and obtain guaranties commensurate with the danger.Do this without delay, so that security and reconciliation may not be postponed. Every day's delay is a loss to the national wealth and an injury to the national treasury. But if adequate guaranties cannot be obtained at once, then at leastpostpone all present surrender to the Oligarchy, trusting meanwhile to Providence for protection, and to time for that awakened sense of justice and humanity which must in the end prevail. And finally,take care not to rush from Charybdis to Scylla.

The Works of Epictetus, consisting of his Discourses in Four Books, the Enchiridion and Fragments.A Translation from the Greek, based on that of Elizabeth Carter. ByThomas Wentworth Higginson. Boston: Little, Brown, & Co.

Happy the youth who has this Stoic repast fresh and untasted before him! Heaven give him appetite and digestion; for here is food indeed!

Epictetus and Marcus Antoninus, at the two extremes of the social system,—the one that most helpless of human beings, a Roman slave, the other that terrestrial god, a Roman Emperor,—are yet so associated in fame that he who names either thinks of the other also. Neither of them men of astonishing intellect, though certainly of a high intelligence, they have yet uttered thoughts that cannot die,—thoughts so simple, vital, and central, so rich in the purest blood of man's moral being, that their audience and welcome are perpetual. Without literary ambition, one of them wrote only for his own eye, merely emphasizing the faith he lived by, while the other wrote not at all, but, like another and yet greater, simply spoke with men as he met them, his words being only the natural respirations of belief. Yet that tide of time which over so many promising ambitions and brilliant fames has rolled remorseless, a tide of oblivion, bears the private notes or casual conversation of these men in meek and grateful service.

A vital word,—how sure is it to be cherished and preserved! All else may be neglected, all else may perish; but a word true forever to the heart of humanity will be held too near to its heart to suffer from the chances of time.

Of these two authors, Epictetus has the more nerve, spirit, and wit, together with that exquisite homeliness which Thoreau rightly named "a high art"; while Antoninus is characterized by more of tenderness, culture, and breadth. The monarch, again, has a grave, almost pensive tone; the slave is full of breezy health and cheer. One commonly prefers him whom he has read last or read most. The distinction of both is, that they hold hard to the central question, How shall man be indeed man? how shall he be true to the inmost law and possibility of his being? Their thoughts are, as we have said, respirations, vital processes, pieces of spiritual function, the soul in every syllable. And hence through their pages blows a breath of life which one may well name a wind of Heaven.

Our favorite was Antoninus until Mr. Higginson beguiled us with this admirable version. For it is, indeed, admirable. It would be hard to name a translation from Greek prose which, while faithful in substance and tone to the original, is more entirely and charmingly readable.

Of mere correctness we do not speak. Correctness is cheap. It may be had for money any day. A passage or two we notice, concerning which some slight question might, perhaps, be opened; but it would be a question of no importance; and the criticism we should be inclined to make might not be sustained. Unquestionably the version is true, even nicely true, to the ideas of the author.

But it is more and better. It is ingenious, felicitous, witty. Mr. Higginson has the great advantage over too many translators (into English, at least) of being not only a man of bright and vivid intelligence, but also a proper proficient in the use of his mother tongue, melodious in movement, elegant in manner, fortunate in phrase. Now that Hawthorne is dead, America has not perhaps a writer who is master of a more graceful prose. His style has that tempered and chaste vivacity, that firm lightness of step, that quickness at a turn, not interfering with continuity and momentum, which charms all whom style can charm. Lowell's best prose—in "Fireside Travels," for example—has similar qualities, and adds to them a surprising delicacy of wit and subtilty of phrase, while it has less movement and less of rhythmical emphasis. Between the two, in the respects mentioned, we are hardly able to choose.

Mr. Higginson is, indeed, a little fastidious, a little inclined to purism, a little rigid upon the mint, anise, and cumin of literary law. But this rendered him only the more fit for his present task. A translator must bear somewhat hard upon minor obligations to his vernacular, in order to overcome the resistance of a foreign idiom.

He has succeeded. He has given usGreek thought in English speech, not merely in English words. It is, indeed, astonishing how modern Epictetus seems in this version. This is due in part to the translator's tact in finding modernequivalentsfor Greek idioms, or for antiquated allusions and illustrations. Once in a while one is a littled startled by these; but more often they are so happy that one fancies he must have thrown dice for them, or obtained them by some other turn of luck.

But he was favored, not only by literary ability, but by a native affinity with his author and an old love for him. His taste is very marked for this peculiar form of sanctity and heroism, the simple Stoic morality, especially in that mature and mellow form which it assumes with the later Stoic believers. In these first centuries of our era a suffusion of divine tenderness seems to have crept through the veins of the world, partly derived from Christianity, and partly contemporaneous with it. In the case of Epictetus it must have been original. And the peculiar simplicity with which he represents this tender spirit of love and duty, while combining it with the utmost iron nerve of the old Stoic morality,—its comparative disassociation in his pages with the speculative imaginations which glorify or obscure it elsewhere,—is deeply grateful, one sees, to the present translator.

He must have enjoyed his task heartily, while its happy completion has prepared for many others, not only an enjoyment, but more and better than that. May it, indeed, be for many! What were more wholesome for this too luxuriant modern life than a little Stoic pruning?

Having mentioned that the book comes forth under the auspices of Little, Brown, & Co., we have no need to say that it is an elegant volume.

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