In trying times like these, the besetting sin of
undisciplined minds is to seek refuge from inexplicable realities in the
dangerous stimulant of angry partisanship or the indolent narcotick of
vague and hopeful vaticination: _fortunamque suo temperat arbitrio_.
undisciplined minds is to seek refuge from inexplicable realities in the
dangerous stimulant of angry partisanship or the indolent narcotick of
vague and hopeful vaticination: _fortunamque suo temperat arbitrio_.
James Russell Lowell
It disturbed his studies, dislocated all his habitual
associations and trains of thought, and unsettled the foundations of a
faith, rather the result of habit than conviction, in the capacity of
man for self-government. 'Such has been the felicity of my life,' he
said to Mr. Hitchcock, on the very morning of the day he died, 'that,
through the divine mercy, I could always say, _Summum nec metuo diem,
nec opto_. It has been my habit, as you know, on every recurrence of
this blessed anniversary, to read Milton's "Hymn of the Nativity" till
its sublime harmonies so dilated my soul and quickened its spiritual
sense that I seemed to hear that other song which gave assurance to the
shepherds that there was One who would lead them also in green pastures
and beside the still waters. But to-day I have been unable to think of
anything but that mournful text, "I came not to send peace, but a
sword," and, did it not smack of Pagan presumptuousness, could almost
wish I had never lived to see this day. '
Mr. Hitchcock also informs us that his friend 'lies buried in the Jaalam
graveyard, under a large red-cedar which he specially admired. A neat
and substantial monument is to be erected over his remains, with a Latin
epitaph written by himself; for he was accustomed to say, pleasantly,
"that there was at least one occasion in a scholar's life when he might
show the advantages of a classical training. "'
The following fragment of a letter addressed to us, and apparently
intended to accompany Mr. Biglow's contribution to the present number,
was found upon his table after his decease. --EDITORS ATLANTIC MONTHLY. ]
TO THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY
JAALAM, 24th Dec. , 1862.
RESPECTED SIRS,--- The infirm state of my bodily health would be a
sufficient apology for not taking up the pen at this time, wholesome as
I deem it for the mind to apricate in the shelter of epistolary
confidence, were it not that a considerable, I might even say a large,
number of individuals in this parish expect from their pastor some
publick expression of sentiment at this crisis. Moreover, _Qui tacitus
ardet magis uritur_.
In trying times like these, the besetting sin of
undisciplined minds is to seek refuge from inexplicable realities in the
dangerous stimulant of angry partisanship or the indolent narcotick of
vague and hopeful vaticination: _fortunamque suo temperat arbitrio_.
Both by reason of my age and my natural temperament, I am unfitted for
either. Unable to penetrate the inscrutable judgments of God, I am more
than ever thankful that my life has been prolonged till I could in some
small measure comprehend His mercy. As there is no man who does not at
some time render himself amenable to the one,--_quum vix justus sit
securus_,--so there is none that does not feel himself in daily need of
the other.
I confess I cannot feel, as some do, a personal consolation for the
manifest evils of this war in any remote or contingent advantages that
may spring from it. I am old and weak, I can bear little, and can scarce
hope to see better days; nor is it any adequate compensation to know
that Nature is young and strong and can bear much. Old men philosophize
over the past, but the present is only a burthen and a weariness. The
one lies before them like a placid evening landscape; the other is full
of vexations and anxieties of housekeeping. It may be true enough that
_miscet haec illis, prohibetque Clotho fortunam stare_, but he who said
it was fain at last to call in Atropos with her shears before her time;
and I cannot help selfishly mourning that the fortune of our Republick
could not at least stay till my days were numbered.
Tibullus would find the origin of wars in the great exaggeration of
riches, and does not stick to say that in the days of the beechen
trencher there was peace. But averse as I am by nature from all wars,
the more as they have been especially fatal to libraries, I would have
this one go on till we are reduced to wooden platters again, rather than
surrender the principle to defend which it was undertaken. Though I
believe Slavery to have been the cause of it, by so thoroughly
demoralizing Northern politicks for its own purposes as to give
opportunity and hope to treason, yet I would not have our thought and
purpose diverted from their true object,--the maintenance of the idea of
Government. We are not merely suppressing an enormous riot, but
contending for the possibility of permanent order coexisting with
democratical fickleness; and while I would not superstitiously venerate
form to the sacrifice of substance, neither would I forget that an
adherence to precedent and prescription can alone give that continuity
and coherence under a democratical constitution which are inherent in
the person of a despotick monarch and the selfishness of an
aristocratieal class. _Stet pro ratione voluntas_ is as dangerous in a
majority as in a tyrant.
I cannot allow the present production of my young friend to go out
without a protest from me against a certain extremeness in his views,
more pardonable in the poet than in the philosopher. While I agree with
him, that the only cure for rebellion is suppression by force, yet I
must animadvert upon certain phrases where I seem to see a coincidence
with a popular fallacy on the subject of compromise.
associations and trains of thought, and unsettled the foundations of a
faith, rather the result of habit than conviction, in the capacity of
man for self-government. 'Such has been the felicity of my life,' he
said to Mr. Hitchcock, on the very morning of the day he died, 'that,
through the divine mercy, I could always say, _Summum nec metuo diem,
nec opto_. It has been my habit, as you know, on every recurrence of
this blessed anniversary, to read Milton's "Hymn of the Nativity" till
its sublime harmonies so dilated my soul and quickened its spiritual
sense that I seemed to hear that other song which gave assurance to the
shepherds that there was One who would lead them also in green pastures
and beside the still waters. But to-day I have been unable to think of
anything but that mournful text, "I came not to send peace, but a
sword," and, did it not smack of Pagan presumptuousness, could almost
wish I had never lived to see this day. '
Mr. Hitchcock also informs us that his friend 'lies buried in the Jaalam
graveyard, under a large red-cedar which he specially admired. A neat
and substantial monument is to be erected over his remains, with a Latin
epitaph written by himself; for he was accustomed to say, pleasantly,
"that there was at least one occasion in a scholar's life when he might
show the advantages of a classical training. "'
The following fragment of a letter addressed to us, and apparently
intended to accompany Mr. Biglow's contribution to the present number,
was found upon his table after his decease. --EDITORS ATLANTIC MONTHLY. ]
TO THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY
JAALAM, 24th Dec. , 1862.
RESPECTED SIRS,--- The infirm state of my bodily health would be a
sufficient apology for not taking up the pen at this time, wholesome as
I deem it for the mind to apricate in the shelter of epistolary
confidence, were it not that a considerable, I might even say a large,
number of individuals in this parish expect from their pastor some
publick expression of sentiment at this crisis. Moreover, _Qui tacitus
ardet magis uritur_.
In trying times like these, the besetting sin of
undisciplined minds is to seek refuge from inexplicable realities in the
dangerous stimulant of angry partisanship or the indolent narcotick of
vague and hopeful vaticination: _fortunamque suo temperat arbitrio_.
Both by reason of my age and my natural temperament, I am unfitted for
either. Unable to penetrate the inscrutable judgments of God, I am more
than ever thankful that my life has been prolonged till I could in some
small measure comprehend His mercy. As there is no man who does not at
some time render himself amenable to the one,--_quum vix justus sit
securus_,--so there is none that does not feel himself in daily need of
the other.
I confess I cannot feel, as some do, a personal consolation for the
manifest evils of this war in any remote or contingent advantages that
may spring from it. I am old and weak, I can bear little, and can scarce
hope to see better days; nor is it any adequate compensation to know
that Nature is young and strong and can bear much. Old men philosophize
over the past, but the present is only a burthen and a weariness. The
one lies before them like a placid evening landscape; the other is full
of vexations and anxieties of housekeeping. It may be true enough that
_miscet haec illis, prohibetque Clotho fortunam stare_, but he who said
it was fain at last to call in Atropos with her shears before her time;
and I cannot help selfishly mourning that the fortune of our Republick
could not at least stay till my days were numbered.
Tibullus would find the origin of wars in the great exaggeration of
riches, and does not stick to say that in the days of the beechen
trencher there was peace. But averse as I am by nature from all wars,
the more as they have been especially fatal to libraries, I would have
this one go on till we are reduced to wooden platters again, rather than
surrender the principle to defend which it was undertaken. Though I
believe Slavery to have been the cause of it, by so thoroughly
demoralizing Northern politicks for its own purposes as to give
opportunity and hope to treason, yet I would not have our thought and
purpose diverted from their true object,--the maintenance of the idea of
Government. We are not merely suppressing an enormous riot, but
contending for the possibility of permanent order coexisting with
democratical fickleness; and while I would not superstitiously venerate
form to the sacrifice of substance, neither would I forget that an
adherence to precedent and prescription can alone give that continuity
and coherence under a democratical constitution which are inherent in
the person of a despotick monarch and the selfishness of an
aristocratieal class. _Stet pro ratione voluntas_ is as dangerous in a
majority as in a tyrant.
I cannot allow the present production of my young friend to go out
without a protest from me against a certain extremeness in his views,
more pardonable in the poet than in the philosopher. While I agree with
him, that the only cure for rebellion is suppression by force, yet I
must animadvert upon certain phrases where I seem to see a coincidence
with a popular fallacy on the subject of compromise.
