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] Erasmi Opera, Tom. II. p. 183; Adagiorum Chil. I. cent. v. prov. 4.
[9] Erasmi Adagia, ubi supra.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Jortin's Erasmus, 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, nomen Galeotto 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's Bibliographia Poetica, p. 228.
[25] For a list of His works see Watt's Bibliotheca Britannia, nomen Echlin.
[26] Beloe's Anecdotes 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, nomen Galterus; 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 his Trésor de Livres Rares, which ought to be accurate, makes a strange mistake in calling Gualterus Episcopus Insulanus. He was never more than a canon, and held no post at Lille. Fabricius entitles him simply Magister Philippus Gualterus de Castellione, Insulanus. Bibliotheca Lat. Med. et Inf. Ætotis, Tom. VI. p. 328. See also Wright's Latin 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, nomen Gaultier.
[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, nomen Galterus.
[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 also Ménagiana, 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 Burmanni Anthologia Latina, Vol. I. pp. 152, 163; Ovidii Metam. 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 a State 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 stamp E Pluribus Unum upon 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 least postpone 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.
REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
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. By Thomas 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 us Greek 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 modern equivalents for 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.
An Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, and of the Principal Philosophical Questions discussed in his Writings. By John Stuart Mill. In Two Volumes. Boston: William V. Spencer.
Mr. Mill in this book defends England from the reproach of indifference to the higher philosophy. Americans are at least not indifferent to John Stuart Mill; and for his sake the volumes will no doubt be attempted by many a respectable citizen who would be seriously puzzled whether to class the author as a Cosmothetic Idealist or as a Hypothetical Dualist. And assuming, as such a reader very possibly will, that this last name designates those who are disposed to fight for their hypotheses, he will hardly think it in this case a misnomer. Yet Mr. Mill seems very generous and noble in this attitude. He has consented to put on the gloves since he fought Professors Whewell and Sedgwick without them; and there is perhaps no finer passage in the history of controversy than his simple expression of regret, in his preface, on attacking an antagonist who can no longer defend himself.
Yet his handling of Sir William is tolerably unflinching, when he settles to the work; and he will carry the sympathy of most readers in his criticisms, whatever they may think of his own peculiar views. The students of his Logic were rather daunted, years ago, on discovering that a mind so able was content to found upon mere experience its conviction that two and two make four, and to assume, by implication at least, that on some other planet two and two may make five. He still holds to this attitude. But so perfect are his candor and clearness, that no dissent from his views can seriously impair the value of his writings; and though no amount of clearness can make such a book otherwise than abstruse to the general reader, yet there are some chapters which can be read with pleasure and profit by any intelligent person,—as, for instance, the closing essay on mathematical study. This must not, however, be taken for an indorsement of all which that chapter contains; for it must be pronounced a little inconsistent in Mr. Mill to criticize Hamilton for underrating mathematics without having studied them, when this seems to be precisely his critic's attitude towards the later German metaphysics. He speaks with some slight respect of Kant, to be sure, but complains of the speculations of his successors as "a deplorable waste of time and power," though he gives no hint or citation to indicate that he has read one original sentence of Fichte, Schelling, or Hegel. Indeed, he heaps contempt in Latin superlatives upon the last-named thinker, and then completes the insult by quoting him at second-hand through Mansel, (I. 61,)—that Mansel some of whose doctrines he elsewhere proclaims to be "the most morally pernicious now current." (I. 115.) He afterwards makes it a sort of complaint against Hamilton, that he had read "every fifth-rate German transcendentalist"; but if this was so, surely a competent critic of Hamilton should have followed him at least through the first-rates. This unfairness,—if, indeed, these surmises be correct,—although it seems very much like the Englishman whom our current prejudices represent, seems very unlike John Stuart Mill.
As the ablest work that modern British philosophy has produced, this book will doubtless have many American readers, and well deserves them.
Speeches of Andrew Johnson, President of the United States. With a Biographical Introduction, by Frank Moore. Boston: Little, Brown, & Co.
The publishers have done well in placing this volume before the public. One among the most important results of the war is that of vastly increasing the practical, however it may be with the theoretical, power of the executive. It has done this, in the first place, by direct addition. The "war powers of the President," though beyond question legitimate, made him for the time being wellnigh absolute; and now that overt war is ended, it is found impracticable to return immediately to the ancient limits of executive authority. Exercises of sovereignty, accordingly, which would once have been called most dangerous encroachments upon coördinate branches of government, pass without protest, it be with general approbation. An instance of such is seen in the appointment of Southern governors who by an explicit law of Congress are ineligible. But, in the second place, this power is increased, perhaps, even more by the marked disposition of the people to accept the initiative of the President. The prodigious bids made by the Democratic party for his countenance, and the extreme reluctance of the Republicans to open an issue with him, illustrate this disposition, and are of great significance.
We are stating facts, not complaining of them. A great change has undoubtedly taken place in the practical economy of the Government,—a significant change in the relative importance of its coördinate branches. It may not be permanent, but it can scarcely be brief.
A the same time the importance of the Government as a whole has been greatly enhanced. We have reached a point where the nation, for, perhaps, the first time, is to be saved by statesmanship, and where it is apparent that only statesmanship of a high order will be equal to the task. Formerly the Government could be contemptible without being fatal. When its imbecility led to civil war, the courage, patriotism, and persistency of the people sufficed to purchase victory; and though the Government was tasked heavily, its tasks were of a simple kind. But now a point is reached where must begin a long stretch of wise, far-seeing, faithful statesman's work, or where, in the want of this, prospects open which on patriot can contemplate with satisfaction.
A series of able, temperate, true-hearted Presidents has now become indispensable; but the highest qualities will be needed in no subsequent administration so much as in the present; and very serious mistakes in the present would go far to render the highest ability in the future unavailing. Under these circumstances, there must be a common and anxious desire to know what may reasonably be expected of President Johnson.
Hence the timeliness and importance of the volume under notice. An attentive perusal of these pages will afford ground for some critical estimate of the man in whose hands so much power is lodged, and whose use of power so great issues depend. The biographical sketch, though somewhat vague, and marked by occasional inaccuracies, affords some tolerable notion of the experience he has passed through; and the speeches, though covering but few years, exhibit that portion of his opinions which is most related to existing problems.
We find here the image of a very honest, patriotic man, vigorous in mind, resolute in will, definite in character, and bearing deeply the impress of a special and marked experience. Of his honesty, to begin with, there can be no doubt. His administration may be mistaken, but it will not be corrupt. And to feel assured of so much is very healthful. But an honest man, in his position, must be patriotic,—must be looking to the welfare of the country, rather than casting about to make bargains for his private advantage; and we gather from this book, that, if any meditate buying or bribing the President, they will learn a lesson in due time. He may come to coincide with them, but it will be by their acquiescence in his judgment, not by his acceptance of their proffers.
It is when we come to inspect his intellectual position, to consider the quality of his honest convictions, as determined chiefly by his peculiar experience, that the real question opens.
Mr. Johnson was a Southern "poor white." He became the ornament, then the champion of his class; rescued it from political subjection in Tennessee, and, in his own election to the Governor's chair, and then to the United States Senate, gave it a first feast of supremacy. In this long struggle, the peculiar opinion and sentiment of his class—that is, of its best portion—became with him, though in an enlarged form, impassioned convictions, deeply incorporated with his character, and held with somewhat of religious fervor.
In the first speech contained in the present collection, dating so lately as 1858, he is found still resting upon this experience. His sympathy is wholly with the simpler forms of country life, with mechanics and small landholders, "the middle class," as he calls them. He hates cities; he cannot help showing some mild jealousy of the commercial and manufacturing interest; literature and science he does not wish to undervalue, but his whole heart is with the class who live a well-to-do, honest life, by manual labor in their own shops or on their own acres. Like his class, he dislikes the cotton lords, but likes Slavery, and has no faith in the negro; it has not occurred to him to think of the negro as a man, and he wished that every white man in the country had a slave to do his "menial" labor.
In the next speech, made two years later, he is confronting the immediate probability of Secession. He grapples with it sturdily, but still regards it from a strictly Southern point of view,—that of his class. The South, he thinks, has real grievances; it has, indeed, been wronged by the election of a "sectional President and Vice-President"; it is entitled to redress; only it should seek redress in the Union, not out of it.
Even when what he feared and fought against was become overt and bloody war, when his own life was vengefully sought, when his own friends were hunted down, and either murdered without mercy or dragged mercilessly away to fight an alien battle with a sword behind and cannon in front, even then he finds great difficulty in changing his point of view. He speaks no more of wrongs which the South has suffered; but it is because his feeling of that is overwhelmed by his sense of the horrible wrong it is committing. He declares, at length, that, if Slavery or the Union must go down, he will stand by the Union; but he evidently accepts the alternative with reluctance, though with resolution. When it becomes apparent that this possible alternative is indeed actual, he is true to his pledge; but it is a new charge in his mind against the Secessionists, that they have forced him to such election. They will have it so, he says, and since they will have it so, be it so; the necessity is not of his making; the retribution is real, but it is deserved. His final proclamation of freedom in Tennessee, in advance of executive warrant, was an intrepid and memorable act, worthy of his resolute spirit,—but was an act rather directed against the Rebels than prompted by sympathy with the slaves. His career in Tennessee was already far advanced before he fairly held forth his hand to the negroes as men, with the rights and interests of human beings; and it needed all the roused passion of his soul, all the touching trust of this people in him as their "Moses," all his intensity of recoil from treason, and all his sense of personal outrage, to nerve him for that triumph over his traditional prejudices.
The impression of Andrew Johnson which this book gives us is that of a deep, powerful, impassioned nature, inflexible, but inflexible rather by definite determination of character and fixity of conviction than by obstinacy of will. A man of large ability, he is, so to speak, deeply immersed in his own past,—limited by the bonds of his earnest, but, until lately, narrow experience. His power to change his point of view upon theoretical considerations is small, for he does little but expand his experience into theory. Facts alone can instruct him; and if these run counter to his intellectual predilection, they must be impressive to be effectual. He follows the law of his mind in proceeding to make an "experiment" in dealing with the South, and in making it as nearly as possible in accordance with the ancient customs of his thought. There is danger, we think, that he will look at facts too much with a traditional eye; but there is no danger that he will not act upon them with vigor, courage, and honest patriotism so far as he shall see them in their true light.
It should be said, that, to learn the latest modifications of his opinions, the reader must consult the Introduction.