(RECAPITULATION.)
We have now before us, in the narrative of Cardinal Mezzofanti’s life,
such materials for an estimate of his attainments as a linguist and a
scholar, as a most diligent and impartial inquiry has enabled me to bring
together. I can truly say that in no single instance have I suffered
my own personal admiration of his extraordinary gifts to shape or to
influence that inquiry. I have not looked to secure a verdict by culling
the evidence. A great name is but tarnished by unmerited praise—_non
eget mendacio nostro_. I have felt that I should consult best for the
fame of Mezzofanti, by exhibiting it in its simple truth; and I have
sought information regarding him, fearlessly and honestly, in every
field in which I saw a prospect of obtaining it,—from persons of every
class, country, and creed—from friendly, from indifferent, and even from
hostile quarters;—from all, in a word, without exception, whom I knew
or thought likely to possess the means of contributing to the solution
of the interesting problem in the annals of the human mind, which is
involved in his history. It only remains to sum up the results. Nor is
it easy to approach this duty with a perfectly unbiassed mind. If, on the
one hand, there is a temptation to heighten the marvels of the history,
viewed through what Carlyle calls “the magnifying _camera oscura_ of
tradition,” on the other, there is the opposite danger of unduly yielding
to incredulity, and discarding its genuine facts on the sole ground
of their marvellousness. I shall endeavour to hold a middle course. I
shall not accept any of the wonders related of Mezzofanti, unless they
seem attested by undisputable authority: but neither shall I, in a case
so clearly abnormal as his, and one in which all ordinary laws are so
completely at fault, reject well-attested facts, because they may seem
irreconcilable with every-day experience. Our judgments of unwonted
mental phenomena can hardly be too diffident, or too circumspect. The
marvels of the faculty of memory which we all have read of; the prodigies
of analysis which many of us have witnessed in the mental arithmeticians
who occasionally present themselves for exhibition; the very vagaries
of the senses themselves, which occasionally follow certain abnormal
conditions of the organs—are almost as wide a departure from what we are
accustomed to in these departments, as is the greatest marvel related of
Mezzofanti in the faculty of language. Perhaps there could not be a more
significant rebuke of this universal scepticism, than the fact that the
very event which Juvenal, in his celebrated sneer at the tale of
Velificatus Athos, et quidquid Græcia mendax
Audet in historiâ—
has selected as the type of self-convicted mendacity—the passage of
Xerxes’s fleet through Mount Athos—now proves to be not only possible,
but absolutely true; and it is wisely observed by Mr. Grote, that, while
no amount of mere intrinsic probability is sufficient to establish the
truth of an unattested statement, on the other hand, “statements in
themselves highly improbable may well deserve belief, provided they be
supported by sufficient positive evidence.” (_Hist. of Greece_, I. 571.)
* * * * *
There are two heads of inquiry which appear to me specially deserving of
attention.
First, the number of languages with which Cardinal Mezzofanti was
acquainted, and the degree of his proficiency in each.
Secondly, his method of studying languages, and the peculiar mental
development to which his extraordinary success as a linguist is
attributable.
I.—I wish I could begin, in accordance with a suggestion of my friend
M. d’Abbadie, by defining exactly what is meant by _knowledge_ of a
language. But unfortunately, the shades of such knowledge are almost
infinite. The vocabularies of our modern languages contain as many
as forty or fifty thousand words; and Claude Chappe, the inventor of
the telegraph, calculates, that for the complete expression of human
thought and sentiment in all its forms, at least ten thousand words
are necessary. On the other hand, M. d’Abbadie, in his explorations in
Abyssinia, was able to make his way without an interpreter, though his
vocabulary did not comprise quite six hundred words; and M. Julien,
in his controversy with Pauthier, asserts that about four thousand
words will amply suffice even for the study of the great classics of a
language, as Homer, Byron, or Racine.
Which of these standards are we to adopt?
And even if we fix upon any one of them, how shall we apply it to
the Cardinal, whereas we can only judge of him by the reports of his
visitors, who applied to him, each a standard of his own?
It is plain that any such strict philosophical notion, however desirable,
would be inapplicable in practice. It appears to me, however, that the
objects of this inquiry will be sufficiently attained by adopting a
popular notion, founded upon the common estimation of mankind. I think a
man may be truly said to know a language thoroughly, if he can read it
fluently and with ease; if he can write it correctly in prose, or still
more, in verse; and above all, if he be admitted by intelligent and
educated natives to speak it correctly and idiomatically.
I shall be content to apply this standard to Cardinal Mezzofanti.
* * * * *
Looking back over the narrative of Cardinal Mezzofanti’s life, we can
trace a tolerably regular progress in the number of languages ascribed to
him through its several stages. In 1805, according to Father Caronni, “he
was commonly reported to be master of more than twenty-four languages.”
Giordani’s account of him in 1812, seems, although it does not specify
any number, to indicate a greater total than this. Stewart Rose, in
1817, speaks of him as “reading twenty languages, and conversing in
eighteen.” Baron von Zach, in 1820, brings the number of the languages
spoken by him up to thirty-two. Lady Morgan states, that by the public
report of Bologna he was reputed to be master of forty. He himself, in
1836, stated to M. Mazzinghi that he knew forty-five; and before 1839, he
used to say that he knew “fifty, and Bolognese.” In reply to the request
of M. Mouravieff, a little later, that he would give him a list of the
languages that he knew, he sent him a sheet containing the name of God in
fifty-six languages. In the year 1846 he told Father Bresciani that he
knew seventy-eight languages and dialects;[549] and a list communicated
to me by his nephew, Dr. Gaetano Minarelli, by whom it has been compiled
after a diligent examination of his deceased uncle’s books and papers,
reaches the astounding total of one hundred and fourteen!
It is clear, however, that these, and the similar statements which have
been current, require considerable examination and explanation. It is
much to be regretted that the Cardinal did not, with his own hand,
draw up, as he had often been requested, and as he certainly intended,
a complete catalogue of the languages known by him, distinguishing,
as in the similar statement left by Sir William Jones, the degrees of
his knowledge of the several languages which it comprised. In none of
the statements on the subject which are in existence, is any attempt
made to discriminate the languages with which he was familiar from
those imperfectly known by him. On the contrary, from the tone of some
of his panegyrists, it would seem that they wish to represent him as
equally at home in all;—a notion which he himself, in his conversations
with Lady Morgan, with Dr. Tholuck, with M. Mazzinghi, and on many
subsequent occasions, distinctly repudiated and ridiculed. In his
statement to Father Bresciani, in 1846, the Cardinal did not enumerate
the seventy-eight languages and dialects which he knew or had studied;
but in the year before his death, 1848, he told Father Bresciani that he
was then engaged in drawing up a comparative scheme of languages, their
common descent, their affinities, and their ramifications; together with
a simple and easy plan for acquiring a number of languages, however
dissimilar.[550] At my request, Father Bresciani kindly applied to Dr.
Minarelli, the nephew and representative of the deceased, for a copy
of this interesting paper; but unfortunately no trace of it is now
discoverable, and Dr. Minarelli supposes that, as was usual with him when
dissatisfied with any of his compositions, the Cardinal burnt it before
his death.
During the course of this search, however, Dr. Minarelli himself was led
to draw up, partly from his own knowledge of his uncle’s attainments,
partly from the inspection of his books and papers, a detailed list
of the languages with which he believes the Cardinal to have been
acquainted. This list he has kindly communicated to me. From its very
nature, of course, it is to a great extent conjectural; it makes no
pretension to a scientific classification of the languages; and it
contains several evident oversights and errors; but as the writer, in
addition to his long personal intercourse with his uncle, enjoyed the
opportunity of access to his papers and memoranda, and above all to his
books in various languages, his grammars, dictionaries, and vocabularies,
and the marginal notes and observations—the schemes, paradigms,
critical analyses, and other evidences of knowledge, or at least of
study—which they contain; and as he has been mainly guided by these in
the compilation of his list of languages, I shall translate the paper in
its integrity, merely correcting certain obvious errors, and striking
out a few of the items in the enumeration, in which, clearly by mistake,
the same language is twice repeated. The order of languages is in part
alphabetical.
1. Albanese or Epirote.
2. Arabic.
3. Armenian.
4. Angolese.
5. Aymara.
6. Algonquin.
7. Brazilian.
8. Mexican.
9. Paraguay.
10. Peruvian.
11. Birman.
12. Bohemian.
13. Bunda, (in Angola.)
14. Betoi.
15. _Baure_,[551] (?)
16. _Braubica_,[552] (?)
17. Chaldee.
18. Chinese.
19. Cochin-Chinese.
20. Tonkinese.
21. Japanese.
22. Curaçao.
23. Coptic.
24. Chilian.
25. Koordish.
26. Californian.
27. Cora.
28. _Conserica_,[553] (?)
29 _Cahuapana_.[554] (?)
30 Canisiana.
31 Cayubaba.
32 Cochimi.
33 Danish.
34 Swedish.
35 Norwegian.
36 Icelandic.
37 Lappish.
38 Tamul.
39 Hebrew.
40 Rabbinical Hebrew.
41 Samaritan.
42 Coptic Egyptian.
43 Coptic Arabic.[555]
44 Etruscan[556] (so far as known to the learned.)
45 Ethiopic.
46 _Emabellada_.[557] (?)
47 Phenician, (so far as it is known.)
48 Flemish.
49 French.
50 Breton French.
51 Lorraine Dialect.
52 Provençal.
53 Gothic and Visi Gothic.
54 Ancient Greek.
55 Romaic.
56 Georgian or Iberian.
57 Grisons, or Rhetian.
58 Guarany.
59 Guariza.
60 Illyrian.
61 Iberian.[558]
62 _Idioma Mistico._[559]
63 Itomani.
64 Cingalese.
65 Hindostani.
66 Malabar.
67 Malay.
68 Sanscrit.
69 Sanscrit Dialect of Eastern Persia.
70 English.
71 Ancient Breton.[560]
72 Scottish Celtic.[561]
73 Scotch.
74 Irish.
75 Welsh.
76 Italian.
77 Friulese.
78 Maltese.
79 Sardinian.
80 Lombard, Ligurian, Piedmontese, Sicilian & Tuscan dialect of
Italian.
81 Latin.
82 Maronite and Syro-Maronite. (?)
83 Madagascar.
84 Mobima.
85 Moorish.
86 Maya.
87 Dutch.
88 Othomi.
89 Omagua.
90 Australian.[562]
91 Persian.
92 Polish.
93 Portuguese.
94 Peguan.
95 Pimpanga.[563]
96 Quichua.[564]
97 Russian.
98 _Rocorana_ (?)[565]
99 Slavonic.
100 Slavo-Carniolan.
101 Slavo-Servian.
102 Slavo-Ruthenian.
103 Slavo-Wallachian.
104 Syriac.
105 Samogitian, or Lettish.
106 Spanish.
107 Catalonian.
108 Basque.
109 Tanna.[566]
110 German.
111 Tibetan.
112 Turkish.
113 Hungarian.
114 Gipsy.
Such is the Cavaliere Minarelli’s report of the result at which he
has arrived, after an examination of the books and manuscripts of
his illustrious uncle. In its form, I regret to say, it is far from
satisfactory. It places on exactly the same level languages generically
distinct and mere provincial varieties of dialect. In one or two
instances, also, (as Angolese and Bunda, Swedish and Norwegian,) the same
language appears twice under different names. Above all, the compiler has
not attempted to classify the languages according _to the degree of the
Cardinal’s acquaintance with each of them_; nor has he entered into any
explanation of the nature of the evidence of acquaintance with each of
them which is supplied by the documents upon which he relies.[567]
As I cannot, consistently with the fundamental principle of this inquiry,
accept such a statement, when unsupported by the testimony of native (or
otherwise competent) witnesses for the several languages, as conclusive
evidence of the Cardinal’s knowledge of the languages which it ascribes
to him, I shall merely offer this otherwise interesting paper at whatever
may be considered its just value; and I shall endeavour to decide the
question upon grounds entirely independent of it, and drawn solely from
the materials which I have already placed before the reader.
It will, no doubt, have been observed that, so far as regards the reports
of the travellers and others who conversed with the Cardinal, the degrees
of his power of speaking the several languages have been very differently
tested. In some languages he was, as it were, perpetually under trial:
in others, very frequently, and in prolonged conversations; in others,
less frequently, but nevertheless searchingly enough; in others, in
fine, perhaps only to the extent of a few questions and answers. It is
absolutely necessary, in forming any judgment, to attend carefully to
this circumstance. I shall endeavour, therefore, to divide the languages
ascribed to him into four different classes.
First, languages certainly spoken by Cardinal Mezzofanti with a
perfection rare in foreigners.
Secondly, languages which is he said to have spoken well, but as to which
the evidence of sufficient trial is not so complete.
Thirdly, languages which he spoke freely, but less perfectly.
Fourthly, languages in which he could merely express himself and initiate
a conversation. I shall add:—
Fifthly, certain other languages which he had studied from books, but
does not appear to have spoken.
And lastly, dialects of the principal languages. This order, of course,
precludes all idea of a scientific classification[568] of the languages
according to families.
I.—_Languages frequently tested, and spoken with rare excellence._[569]
1 Hebrew, (Supra, p. 283, 341, 345, 371.)
2 Rabbinical Hebrew, (283, 341.)
3 Arabic, (283, 371, 441.)
4 Chaldee, (278, 384, 362, 451.)
5 Coptic, (311, 441, 451.)
6 Ancient Armenian, (352, 441.)
7 Modern Armenian, (352, 441.)
8 Persian, (278, 352, 394.)
9 Turkish, (226, 311, 393, 441.)
10 Albanese, (362, 393, 451.)
11 Maltese, (336, 362.)
12 Greek, (353.)
13 Romaic, (353.)
14 Latin, (201, 347.)
15 Italian, (_passim._)
16 Spanish, (276, 312, 441.)
17 Portuguese, (337, 367.)
18 French, (271, 276, 387.)
19 German, (239, 250, 271, 277, 281, 325, 345, 346, 393.)
20 Swedish, (271, 272, 350, 351.)
21 Danish, (239, 281.)
22 Dutch, (328, 330, 332.)
23 Flemish, (324, 328.)
24 English, (223, 226, 228, 348, 403.)
25 Illyrian, (393, 441.)
26 Russian, (244, 442, 443.)
27 Polish, (328, 444, 447.)
28 Czechish, or Bohemian, (246, 233.)
29 Magyar, (242, 389, 391.)
30 Chinese, (309, 310, 365, 368, 369, 451.)
II.—_Stated to have been spoken fluently, but hardly sufficiently tested._
1 Syriac, (354, 364.)
2 Geez, (383, 385, 394.)
3 Amarinna, (384, 385, 334.)
4 Hindostani, (364, 366.)
5 Guzarattee, (367.)
6 Basque, (393, 388.)
7 Wallachian, (216, 244.)
8 Californian, (355-7.)
9 Algonquin, (360-1.).
III. _Spoken rarely, and less perfectly._
1 Koordish, (394, 451.)
2 Georgian, (251, 394.)
3 Servian (the dialects of Bosnia and of the Bannat,) (394.)
4 Bulgarian, (365, 393, 441.)
5 Gipsy language, (244.)
6 Peguan, (364, 418, 451.)
7 Welsh, (320, 322, 323.)
8 Angolese, (370, 394.)
9 Mexican, (441.)
10 Chilian, (441.)
11 Peruvian, (441.)
IV. _Spoken imperfectly;—a few sentences and conversational forms._
1 Cingalese, (363.)
2 Birmese, (270, 463.[570])
3 Japanese, (463.)
4 Irish, (442.)
5 Gælic, (424.)
6 Chippewa Indian, (360.)
7 Delaware, (360.)
8 Some of the languages of Oceanica, (441.)
V. _Studied from books, but not known to have been spoken._
1 Sanscrit, (291, 394.)
2 Malay, (464.)
3 Tonquinese, (463.)
4 Cochin-Chinese, (463.)
5 Tibetan, (465.)
6 Japanese, (463.)
7 Icelandic, (464.)
8 Lappish, (394.)
9 Ruthenian, (311.)
10 Frisian, (282.)
11 Lettish, (394, 451.)
12 Cornish, (old British of Cornwall,) (280.)
13 Quichua, (ancient Peruvian,) (281.)
14 Bimbarra, (Central African,) (281.)
VI.—_Dialects spoken, or their peculiarities understood._
1.—HEBREW.
Samaritan, (416.)
2.—ARABIC.
Syrian dialect (fluently, 371.)
Egyptian do., (311.)
Moorish, (171.)
Berber, (463.)
3.—CHINESE.
Kiang-Si dialect, (416.)
Hu-quam do., (416.)
4.—ITALIAN.
Sicilian, (324, 354.)
Sardinian, (158-9.)
Neapolitan, (324.)
Bolognese, (247, 344.)
Lombard, (464.)
Friulese, (464.)
5.—SPANISH
Catalan, (441.)
Valencian, (441.)
Majorican, (441.)
6.—BASQUE.
Labourdain, (387-8.)
Souletin, (387.)
Guipuscoan, (388.)
7.—MAGYAR.
Debreczeny, (391.)
Eperies, (391.)
Pesth, (391.)
Transylvanian, (491.)
8.—GERMAN.
Ancient Gothic, (464.)
Rhetian (Grisons,) (Appendix.)
_Sette Communi_ dialect, (218.)
Dialects of Northern and Southern Germany, (243.)
9.—FRENCH.
Provençal, (275.)
Tolosan, (440.)
Burgundian, (444.)
Gascon, (463.)
Bearnais, (440.)
Lorraine, (463.)
Bas Breton, (439.)
10.—ENGLISH.
Somersetshire, Yorkshire, and Lancashire dialects, (404.)
Lowland Scotch, (437.)
I should add that many of these dialects, as the Moorish and Berber
Arabic, the Spanish of Majorca, the Provençal French, the Italian of
Sicily and Sardinia, and the language of the Grisons or Graubünden, might
most justly be described as separate languages, at least as regards the
difficulty of acquisition. In the catalogue of the Cavaliere Minarelli a
series of languages (the very names of which the reader probably never
has heard,) are enumerated, chiefly of the central and South American
families—of the former, the Cora, the Tepehuana, the Mistek, the Othomi,
the Maya; of the latter, the Paraguay, the Omagua, the Aymara, the
Canisiana, and the Mobima. I am not aware of the authority on which the
Cavaliere relies in reference to these languages. For the majority of
them, I must say that I cannot find in the catalogue of the Cardinal’s
library any distinct trace whatever of his having studied them; but it
is certain that he had given his attention early to the languages of
these countries; that he had opportunities in Bologna of conversing with
ex-Jesuit missionaries from the central and South American provinces; and
that the library of the Propaganda, of which he had the unrestricted use,
contains many printed and manuscript elementary works in languages of
which little trace is elsewhere to be found.
Summing up, therefore, all the authentic accounts of him as yet made
public; discarding the loose statements of superficial marvel-mongers,
and divesting the genuine reports, as far as possible, of the vagueness
by which many of them have been characterized, it appears that, in
addition to a large number of (more than thirty) minor dialects,
Mezzofanti was acquainted in various degrees with seventy-two languages,
popularly, if not scientifically, regarded as distinct:—almost the exact
number which F. Bresciani ascribes to him; that of these he spoke with
freedom, and with a purity of accent, of vocabulary, and of idiom, rarely
attained by foreigners, no fewer than thirty; that he was intimately
acquainted with all the leading dialects of these; that he spoke less
perfectly, (or rather is not shown to have possessed the same mastery
of) nine others, in all of which, however, his pronunciation, at least,
is described as quite perfect; that he could, (and occasionally did,)
converse in eleven other languages, but with what degree of accuracy it
is difficult to say; that he could at least initiate a conversation,
and exchange certain conversational forms in eight others; and that he
had studied the structure and the elementary vocabularies of fourteen
others. As regards the languages included in the latter categories, it
is quite possible that he may also have spoken in a certain way some at
least among them. So far as I have learned, there is no evidence that he
actually did speak any of them: but with him there was little perceptible
interval between knowledge of the elementary structure and vocabulary of
a language, and the power of conversing in it.
Such is the astounding result to which the united evidence of this
vast body of witnesses, testifying without consent, and indeed for
the most part utterly unknown to each other, appears irresistibly to
lead. I am far, I confess, from accepting in their strict letter many
of the rhetorical expressions of these writers—the natural result of
warm admiration, however just and well founded. I do not believe, for
example, that in each and all the thirty languages enumerated in the
first category, the Cardinal actually spoke, as some of the witnesses
say, “with all the purity and propriety of a native;” that he could not
in any one of them “be recognized as a foreigner;” or that, in them
all, he “spoke without the slightest trace of peculiar accent.” On the
contrary, I know that, in several of these, he made occasional trips.
I do not overlook the “four minor mistakes” in his German conversation
with Dr. Tholuck; nor his occasionally “forgetting the marked _l_ in his
Polish,” nor the criticism of his manner in several other languages,
as “formed rather from books than from conversation.” Neither do I
believe that he had mastered the _entire_ vocabulary of each of these
languages. Nor shall I even venture to say to what point his knowledge
of the several vocabularies extended. So far from shutting out from my
judgment the drawbacks on the undiscriminating praise heaped upon the
Cardinal by some of his biographers, which these criticisms imply, I
regard them as (by recalling it from the realm of legend,) forming the
best and most secure foundation of a reputation which, allowing for every
drawback, far transcends all that the world has ever hitherto known.
I do not say that in all these languages, or perhaps in any of them,
Cardinal Mezzofanti was the perfect paragon which some have described
him; but, reverting to the standard with which I set out, I cannot
hesitate to infer from these united testimonies, that his knowledge of
each and every one of the leading languages of the world, ancient and
modern, fully equalled, and in several of these languages excelled, the
knowledge of those who are commonly reputed as accomplished linguists in
the several languages, even when they have devoted their attention to
the study of one or other of these languages exclusively. I do not say
that he was _literally faultless_ in speaking these languages; nor that
what I have said is literally true of _each and every one_ of the thirty
that have been enumerated: but, if the attestations recorded in this
volume have any meaning, they lead to the inevitable conclusion, that in
the power of speaking the languages in which he was best tried,—whether
Hebrew, or Arabic, or Armenian, or Persian, or Turkish, or Albanese,
or Maltese, or Greek, or Romaic, or Latin, or Italian, or Spanish, or
Portuguese, or French, or Swedish, or Danish, or Dutch, or Flemish, or
English, or Russian, or Bohemian, or Magyar, or Chinese;—his success is
entirely beyond suspicion, and will bear comparison with that of the most
accomplished non-native masters of these languages, even those who have
confined themselves to one or two of the number. For the few languages
upon which I myself may presume to speak, I most unhesitatingly adopt
this conclusion, comparing my recollections of the Cardinal with those
I retain of almost any other foreigner whom I have ever heard speak the
same languages.
The reader’s recollection of the attainments of the most remarkable
linguists enumerated in the memoir prefixed to this biography will enable
him, therefore, to see how immeasurably Cardinal Mezzofanti transcends
them all. Taking the very highest estimate which has been offered of
their attainments, the list of those reputed to have possessed more
than ten languages is a very short one. Only four—Mithridates, Pico
of Mirandola, Jonadab Alhanar, and Sir William Jones—are said, in the
loosest sense, to have passed the limit of twenty. To the first two fame
ascribes twenty-two, to the last two twenty-eight languages. Müller,
Niebuhr, Fulgence Fresnel, and perhaps Sir John Bowring, are usually set
down as knowing twenty languages. For Elihu Burritt, Csoma de Körös,
their admirers claim eighteen. Renaudot, the controversialist, is said
to have known seventeen, Professor Lee sixteen, and the attainments of
the older linguists, as Arias Montamus, Martin del Rio, the converted
Rabbi Libertas Cominetus, the Admirable Crichton—are said to have ranged
from this down to ten or twelve—most of them the ordinary languages of
learned and of polite society. It is further to be observed that in no
one of those cases has the evidence been examined, the trustworthiness
of the witnesses considered, or the degrees of knowledge of the various
languages ascertained. Whatever of doubt rests even upon the vaguest
statements regarding Mezzofanti, applies with double force in every one
of the above instances.
But even putting these considerations aside, and accepting the estimates
upon the showing of the parties themselves or their admirers, how far
does the very highest of them fall short of what has been demonstrated of
Cardinal Mezzofanti!
* * * * *
II. On the curious question as to the system pursued by the Cardinal
in the study of languages, I regret to say that little light seems now
obtainable. The variety of systems employed by students is endless.
The eccentric linguist, Roberts Jones, described in the Introductory
Memoir, as soon as he had an opportunity of comparing the vocabulary of
a new language with those which he had already studied, proceeded by
_striking out of it_ all those words which were common to it with any of
the languages already familiar to him, and then impressing on his memory
_the words which remained_. M. Antoine d’Abbadie told me that, in the
unwritten languages with which he had to deal, his plan was to write
out, with the aid of an interpreter, a list of about five hundred of the
leading and most indispensable words, and a few conversational forms; and
then to complete his stock of words “by the assistance of _an intelligent
child who knew no language but the one which he was studying_;—because
children best understand, and most readily apprehend, an imperfectly
conveyed meaning.” Some students commence with the vocabulary; others,
with the structural forms of a language. With some the process is tedious
and full of labour: others proceed with almost the rapidity of intuition.
In comparing the various possible systems, it has not unnaturally
been supposed that the process which, in Cardinal Mezzofanti, led to
results so rapid and so extraordinary, might be usefully applied, at
least in some modified form, to the practical study of languages, even
on that modest scale in which they enter into ordinary education. But
unfortunately, even if such a fruit could be hoped from his experience,
it does not appear that the Cardinal possessed any extraordinary secret,
or at least that he ever clearly explained to any of his visitors the
secret process, if any, which he employed. One thing at least is certain,
and should not be forgotten by those who are always on the look out for
short roads to learning, that, whatever may have been his system, and
however it may have quickened or facilitated the result for him, it did
not enable him to dispense with the sedulous and systematic use of all
the ordinary appliances of study, and especially of every available means
for the acquisition of vocabularies, and of practice in their exercise.
It is true he told M. Libri that he found the learning of languages
“less difficult than is generally thought: that there is but a limited
number of points to which it is necessary to direct attention; and that,
when one is master of these points, the remainder follows with great
facility;” adding that, “when one has learned ten or a dozen languages
essentially different from each other, one may, with a little study and
attention, learn any number of them.” But he also stated to Dr. Tholuck
“that his own way of learning new languages was no other than that of
our school-boys, by writing out paradigms and words, and committing
them to memory.” (P. 278.) Dictionaries, reading-books, catechisms,
vocabularies, were anxiously sought by him, and industriously used. The
society and conversation of strangers was eagerly—in one less modest
and simple it might almost appear obtrusively—courted, and turned to
advantage. A constant and systematic habit of translation and composition
both in prose and verse was maintained. In a word, nothing can be
clearer than that with Mezzofanti, as with the humblest cultivators of
the same study, the process of acquiring each new language was, if not
slow, at least laborious; and that, with all his extraordinary gifts,
the eminence to which he attained, is in great part to be attributed to
his own almost unexampled energy, and to the perseverance with which he
continued to cultivate these gifts to the very latest day of his life.
He understood thoroughly, as all who have ever attained to eminence
have understood, the true secret of study—economical and systematic
employment of time. The great jurist D’Aguesseau composed one of his
most valuable works in the scraps of time which he was able to save
from his wife’s unpunctuality in the hour of dinner. Mezzofanti made it
a rule, even amid his most frequent and most distracting occupations,
to turn to account every chance moment in which he was released from
actual pressure. No matter how brief or how precarious the interval, his
books and papers were generally at hand. And even when no such appliance
of study were within reach his active and self-concentrated mind was
constantly engaged. He possessed a rare power of self-abstraction, by
which he was able to concentrate all his faculties upon any language
which he desired to pursue, to the exclusion of all the others that he
knew. In this respect he was entirely independent of books. When the
great mathematician, Euler, became blind, he was able to form the most
complicated diagrams, and to resolve the most intricate calculations, in
his mind. Every one has heard, too, of cases like that of the prisoner
described by Pope:—
Who, locked from ink and paper, scrawls
With desperate charcoal on his darkened walls.
But Mezzofanti’s power of mental study was even more wonderful. He
had the habit of _thinking when alone, in each and all of his various
languages_ in succession; so that, without the presence of a second
individual, he almost enjoyed the advantage of practice in conversation!
The only parallel for this extraordinary mental phenomenon that I know,
is a story which I have somewhere read, of a musician who attained to
great perfection as an instrumental performer, although hardly ever known
to touch an instrument for the purpose of practice. This man, it is said,
was _constantly practising in his mind_; and his fingers were actually
observed to be always in motion, as though engaged in the act of playing.
On the other hand, it is certain that Mezzofanti’s power of acquiring
languages was mainly a gift of nature. It is not easy to say in what this
natural gift consisted. Among the faculties of the mind chiefly employed
in acquiring language—perception, analysis, judgment, and memory—by some
it has been placed in his intuitive quickness of perception—by others
in his memory—and by others, in his power of analysing the leading
inflexional and structural characteristics by which each language is
distinguished. Others place it in some mysterious delicacy of his
ear, which detected in each language a sort of rhythm or systematic
structure, and thus supplied a key to all its forms. But no one of these
characteristics, taken singly, even in its very highest development, will
account for a success so entirely unexampled. Almost all great linguists,
it is true, have been remarkable for their powers of memory; but there
are many examples of such memory, unaccompanied by any very peculiar
excellence in the gift of languages. Still less can it be ascribed
exclusively to any quickness of perception, or any perfection of analytic
or synthetic power. Perhaps there is no form in which these powers are so
wondrously displayed, as in the curious phenomena of mental arithmetic.
And yet I am not aware that any of the extraordinary mental calculators
has been distinguished as a linguist. On the contrary, many of them have
been singularly deficient in this respect. Mr. George Bidder, one of the
latest, and in many respects most creditable, examples of this faculty,
confesses his entire deficiency in talent for literature or language; and
Zachariah Dase, whose performances as a calculator almost exceeded all
belief, could never master a word of any foreign language except a little
German.
But in Cardinal Mezzofanti we meet not only each of these qualities, but
a most perfect and perfectly balanced union of them all. His memory in
itself would have made him an object of wonder. Quick and tenacious to a
degree certainly not inferior to any recorded example of the faculty, it
was one of the most universal in its application of which any record is
preserved; embracing every variety of subject—not alone the vocabularies
and forms which he acquired, but every kind of matter to which it was
directed; history, poetry, and even persons and personal occurrences. But
there was, above all, one characteristic in which it was distinguished
from almost all other memories. Some of those qualities already named
were possessed by other individuals in an equal, if not a greater or more
striking, degree. Henderson, the player, was said to be able to repeat
the greater part of the most miscellaneous contents of a newspaper after
a single reading; and the mental arithmetician just named, Zachariah
Dase, after _dipping_ his eye over a row of twelve figures, could repeat
them backwards and forwards, and in every other order, and could multiply
them instantaneously by one or two figures at pleasure. Some memories
too possessed this faculty entirely independent of the judgment or the
reasoning powers. Père Menestrier was able to repeat a long jumble of
unmeaning names after hearing them but once, and the young Corsican
mentioned by Padre Menocchio could do the same, even after the lapse of
an entire year! But the perfection of Mezzofanti’s memory was different
from all these, and consisted in its _extraordinary readiness_. Sir W.
Hamilton, in one of his notes on Reid, happily reviving an old view of
Aristotle, distinguishes between _memory_ (μνημή) and _reminiscence_,
(ἀνάμνησις)—between spontaneous and elaborated memory—memory of
intuition, and memory of evolution. In Mezzofanti the latter hardly
appears to have had a place. His memory seems to have acted by intuition
alone. It was not only a rare capacity for storing up and retaining the
impressions once made upon it, no matter how rapid and how various, but a
power of holding them _distinct from each other_, and ready for instant
use. And thus, over the vast and various assortment of vocabularies
which he possessed, he enjoyed a control so complete, that he would
draw upon each and all at pleasure, as the medium for the expression of
his thoughts;—just as the experimentalist, by the shifting of a slide,
can change, instantaneously and at will, the colour of the light with
which he illuminates the object of exhibition. Dugald Stewart tells the
case of a young woman who could repeat an entire sermon after a single
hearing, and whose sole trick of memory consisted in connecting in her
mind each part of the discourse with a part of the ceiling. It would
almost seem as if the memory of Mezzofanti had some such local division
into compartments, in which the several vocabularies _could_, as it were,
_be stored apart_, and through which his mind could range at pleasure,
culling from each the objects or words which it desired, no matter how
various or how unconnected with each other.
With such a memory as this to guide its action, and to supply the
material for its operation, the extraordinary and almost intuitive power
of analysis—something in its own order like what Wollaston called in
William Phillips, the “mathematical sense”—which Mezzofanti possessed,
and which enabled him at once to seize upon the whole system of a
language—form, structure, idiom, genius, spirit—led by a process which it
is easy to understand, to the wonderful results which this great linguist
accomplished. Memory supplied the material with unfailing abundance and
regularity. The analytic faculties were the tools which the mind employed
in operating upon the material thus supplied for the use.
Such appears to have been the mental process. But for the practical power
of speaking the languages thus mastered in theory, Mezzofanti was also
indebted to his singularly quick and delicate organization of ear and
tongue. It might seem that the former of these organs could only enter
as a very subordinate element, and in a purely mechanical way, into
the faculty of speech. Indeed the French journals of the past month,
(February, 1858,) contain an account of a deaf and dumb man, M. Moser,
who (of course entirely unaided by ear,) has mastered, besides Greek and
Latin, no fewer than fourteen modern languages. But, strange as this may
seem, it is certain that in Mezzofanti’s case the ear, in addition to
its direct and natural use in comprehending and catching up the sounds
of languages, and appreciating all their delicate varieties and shades,
(in which it is admitted to have been ready and infallible beyond all
precedent,) had a nobler, and as it were, more intellectual function;
that its office was a thing of mind as well as of organization; that he
possessed, as it were, _an inner and higher sense_, distinct from the
_material organ_; and that the impressions which this sense conveyed,
helped him to the structure and the philosophical character of language,
as well as to its rhythm, its vocal sounds, and its peculiar intonations.
It is difficult to explain the exact mental operation, by which this
curious result was attained; but the Cardinal himself repeatedly declared
his consciousness of such an operation, and ascribed to it, in a great
degree, the rapidity and the ease with which he overcame what to others
form the main difficulty in the study of a language, and with which,
having once made the first step in each language, he mastered, as if by
intuition, all the mysteries of its structural system.
Another element of his wonderful talent was his genuine enthusiasm
and the unpretending simplicity of his character. “Pretension,” says
Emerson, “may sit still, but cannot act.” There was no pretension about
Mezzofanti; nor had he anything of that morbid intellectual sensitiveness
which shrinks from the first blunders to which a novice in a foreign
language is exposed, and which restrains many from the attempt to speak,
by the very apprehension of failure.[571] Children, as is well known,
learn to speak a language more rapidly than their elders. I cannot doubt
that Mezzofanti’s child-like simplicity and innocence, were among the
causes of his wonderful success as a speaker of many tongues.
* * * * *
It was not to be expected that a man so eminent in one absorbing pursuit
should have made a very distinguished figure in general literature or
science. Among the many laudatory reports of him which are contained
in this volume, a few will be found which hardly concede to him even a
second-rate place as a scholar, still less as a philologer. In some of
the literary circles of Rome, Mezzofanti was not popular. M. Libri[572]
alludes to one source of unfriendly feeling in his regard. There is
another which may perhaps have already struck the reader. From some of
the facts noticed in the Introductory Memoir of German linguists[573]
and from other incidental allusions, the reader will have observed a
certain tendency on the part of philologers to depreciate the pursuit of
linguists, and to undervalue its usefulness; and it is precisely from
the philologers that this low estimate of Mezzofanti proceeds. It is
only just, however, to Baron Bunsen, who is pre-eminently the head of
the German school of that science, to admit that he carefully draws the
distinction between the two branches of the study of language—that of the
linguist, and that of the philologer. And although the natural preference
which a student unconsciously gives to his own favourite pursuit, no
doubt leads him to attach little value to what Mezzofanti knew, and to
dwell more on what in his opinion he did not know, yet it must be said
that he gives him full credit for his unexampled power as a linguist.
The Baron’s recollections, nevertheless, contain a summary of the
strictures upon the literary character of Mezzofanti, which were current
during his lifetime—that his learning was merely superficial—that in the
phrase of the late Mr. Francis Hare, “with the keys of the knowledge of
every nation in his hand, he never unlocked their real treasures;” that
in all the countless languages which he spoke he “never said anything;”
that he left no work or none of any value behind him; that he was utterly
ignorant of philology; that his theology was mere scholasticism; that
he had no idea of Biblical criticism, and that even as a critical Greek
scholar, he was very deficient.
It would be a very mistaken zeal for the honour of Cardinal Mezzofanti
to deny the literal truth of several of these criticisms. Most of the
branches of knowledge in which he is here represented as deficient, are
in themselves the study of an ordinary life. To have added them all to
what he really did possess, would have been a marvel far exceeding the
greatest wonder that has ever been ascribed to him; nor was any one
more ready than the modest Cardinal himself, not merely to admit many
particulars in which his learning was defective, but even to disparage
the learning which he actually possessed. He confessed over and over
again, that he was no philologer—that he was nothing but “an ill bound
dictionary.” He expressed his regret to Guido Görres, that he had begun
his studies at a time when this science was not cultivated. He lamented
the weakness of his chest and other constitutional infirmities, which
prevented him from writing. He deplored to Cardinal Wiseman, that, when
he should be gone, he would have left behind him no trace of what he knew.
But, notwithstanding his own modest estimate of himself, I think enough
will be found in the testimonies of many unsuspected witnesses embodied
in this Memoir, to shew that the depreciating strictures, to which I have
here alluded, are grievously exaggerated. Cardinal Mezzofanti certainly
was not a scientific philologer; but the Abbé Gaume’s memorandum proves
that, while he had little taste for the mere speculative part of the
subject—for those
Cloud-built towers by ghostly masons wrought,
On shadowy thoroughfares of thought—
he was fully sensible of the true use of the science, and had not
neglected the study, especially in its most important aspect—its bearing
upon religious history. He was not a professed archæologist. He may have
failed in the interpretation of the particular Greek inscription, to
which Baron Bunsen refers; nor did he pursue Greek criticism as a special
study. But his friends Cavedoni and Laureani, themselves accomplished
archæologists, entertained the highest respect for his judgment in that
study. The Abate Matranga bore ample witness to the depth and accuracy
of his Greek scholarship; and I myself, in the few observations which I
heard him offer on the Eugubian inscriptions, was struck by the sagacity,
the precision, and the suggestive spirit which they evinced.
Far more unjust, however, are Mr. Hare’s remark about the keys, and the
still more disparaging saying, quoted by Baron Bunsen, which describes
Mezzofanti as, “with all his forty-two languages, never saying anything.”
The numberless reports of visitors at every period of his life, from Mr.
Stewart Rose, in 1817, downwards, which are detailed in this volume, put
entirely beyond question both his capacity and his actual attainments
in general literature. Each visitor, for the most part, found him well
acquainted with the literature of his own country. Very many of them
(as Baron Glucky de Stenitzer for Hungary[574]) bear witness to his
familiarity with their national histories. His conversation with M.
Libri, “on the most difficult points in the history of India,” evinced a
mind of a very different calibre from what these supercilious criticisms
suppose: and, from the historian of the Mathematical Sciences, it is no
ordinary compliment towards one with whom these can have been but a
subordinate study, that, without a moment’s preparation, (the subject
having been only casually introduced by M. Libri,) he “spoke for
half-an-hour on the astronomy and mathematics of the Indian races, in
a manner which would have done honour to a man whose chief occupation
had been tracing the history of the sciences.”[575] I must dissent
strongly, also, from the disparaging opinion that M. Bunsen expresses
as to the Cardinal’s capacity for the more strictly professional
sciences of Biblical criticism and Theology. M. Bunsen, no doubt, when
he speaks of Biblical criticism, speaks mainly of the German School of
that science, and very probably of the last and most popular critic,
Lachmann. Now, with all their merits, there is much in the spirit and
the language of many of these writers, and, I may specially say, of
Lachmann, against which Mezzofanti’s whole mind would have revolted; and
I can well understand that, between his opinions and those of the Baron
regarding them, there would have been but little sympathy. But it is
most unjust to Mezzofanti to say that “he had no idea” of the subject.
One of his earliest literary friends was the great Biblical scholar and
critic, De Rossi. While he was still professor at Bologna, the Abate
Cavedoni, of Modena, spoke with high praise of his ability as a biblical
critic. The Abate Mellini, professor of Scripture in Bologna, gratefully
acknowledges the assistance which he derived from him in reference to the
versions of the Bible: and Cardinal Wiseman, who will not be suspected
of undervaluing any branch of Biblical science, told me that, although
it is quite true that Mezzofanti had no love for the German critics,
and though he never was a professed critic himself, he was nevertheless
quite conversant with the science, and understood its history and its
principles, and the divisions of MMS., recensions, families, &c.,
perfectly well.
As to Theology, his reputation in Rome was not high. Yet his attainments,
especially in moral theology, were considered respectable. The readers
of Sir W. Hamilton will not look on the charge of “scholasticism” as any
very grave disparagement; but I must add that neither did Mezzofanti
neglect the modern divines, even those outside of Italy. With Guido
Görres he spoke of Möhler’s well-known _Symbolik_, although it was at
that period but little known beyond the limits of Germany.
As a preacher, Mezzofanti, though earnest and impressive, never was
in any way remarkable. He confined himself chiefly to the duty of
catechetical instruction; and in Rome his only efforts as a preacher,
were the short and simple exhortations addressed to children at the time
of admitting them to their first Communion—a duty of the ministry which
was especially dear to him.
The truth is, that all these criticisms of Mezzofanti, and the
impressions as to the superficial character of his acquirements which
they embody, have emanated for the most part from casual visitors, who
saw him but for a brief space, and whose opportunity of testing his
knowledge was probably limited to a few questions and answers, in a
language not his own; the main object of the visit being, not to sound
the depth or accuracy of his knowledge in itself, but merely the fluency
and correctness of his manner of speaking the language in which the
visitor desired to try him. Whereas, on the contrary, those who bear
witness to the solidity of his information and the vast range of his
knowledge, are those who knew him long and intimately; who met him as a
friend and companion, not as an object of curiosity, and of wonder; and
whose estimate of him was founded upon the impressions of familiar and
every-day intercourse—the only safe test of character or of acquirements.
* * * * *
There is more truth in the strictures upon Mezzofanti as a writer. In
this respect, indeed, he is known very little; for his only published
composition, the Panegyric of Father Aponte, and the fugitive poetical
exercises in the appendix of this Memoir, can hardly be said to place him
in the category of authors. Unhappily, indeed, the spirit of authorship
is, with many, a question rather of temperament than of ability. In some
it is the very breath of their life—an actual necessity of existence. To
others it is a barren and ungrateful labour—undertaken with reluctance,
and pursued without satisfaction. Southey used to say, that he never
felt fully master of himself and of all his unclouded faculties, till
he found himself seated at his desk. The current of his thoughts never
flowed freely except through his pen. On the contrary, Magliabecchi—the
living library—the _helluo librorum_—never could prevail on himself to
publish a single line! Unfortunately for science, Mezzofanti was of the
latter class. Partly from constitutional delicacy, and especially from
weakness of the chest, the effort of writing was to him irksome and
even injurious. Partly too, no doubt, the same constitutional tendency
of mind which rendered speaking easy and attractive, indisposed him for
the more toilsome—to him positively distressing—mode of communicating
his thoughts by writing. Except for the purposes of private study,
therefore, he seldom wrote more than some fugitive piece; and, even
when he was prevailed on to write at greater length, he was seldom
sufficiently satisfied with his own performances to permit them to be
made public. Several, even of these essays which were read by him in the
learned societies of Bologna and Rome, are known to have been destroyed
by himself before his death; including some which, from their title
and subject, might naturally have been expected to afford some insight
into the character of his mind, and his capacity for dealing with the
philosophy of language.
Accordingly, the small figure which he made as a writer, and the little
trace which he has left behind him of the vast stores of languages
which he had laid up during life, have led to an undue depreciation
of his career, as objectless and unprofitable, whether to himself or
to his fellow-men. Whatever be the truth of this estimate, no one was
more painfully sensible of it than the Cardinal himself. Many of his
expressions of regret have been already recorded; but only those who knew
him intimately, could know the depth and sincerity of his repinings.
Still, although it is not possible to avoid sharing in this regret, he
would be very exacting, indeed, and would set up for himself a very
terrible standard whereby to judge his own conduct, who could venture to
pronounce such a career as Mezzofanti’s empty or unprofitable. Even if
we put aside entirely the consideration of his literary life, and test
him by the rules of personal duty alone, the life of Cardinal Mezzofanti
was a model of every virtue of the Christian and of the priest. Devout
almost to scrupulousness, sincerely humble, simple in his habits, modest
and unexacting in his own person, but spending himself unhesitatingly
in the service of others; courteous, amiable, affectionate, warm in his
friendships, he was known only to be loved, and he never forfeited a
friendship which he once had formed. His benevolence was of the true
Christian stamp—not a mere unreflecting impulse, but a sustained and
systematic love of his fellow creatures. Although his charity was of the
tenderest and most melting kind—although in truth, like Goldsmith’s Vicar,
His pity gave, ere charity began—
although his alms, limited as were his means, were so prodigal as
to earn for him the sobriquet of _Monsignor Limosiniere_, “_My Lord
Almoner_;”—yet it would be a great mistake to measure his benevolence
by the actual extent of poverty which it relieved, or of the assistance
it administered. His active spirit grasped every detail of this work of
God—the care of the sick, the instruction of the young, the edification
and enlightenment of the stranger;—nay, the very courtesies of social
intercourse had for him all the sacred significance of a duty; and, while
he never offended the sensibility of his companions by unseasonably
obtruding over-serious conversation, yet he never lost sight, even in
his lightest hours, of the obligation of good example and edification
which his position and character imposed upon him.
And as regards the great pursuit of his literary life, which some have
presumed to deny as “empty word-knowledge,” and unprofitable display, it
must never be forgotten—even though we should be content to judge its
value by the selfish standard of mere utility—that, for himself, one of
its earliest and most attractive, as well as most endearing sources of
interest, lay in the opportunity which it afforded him for the exercise
of his sacred ministry and the only less sacred offices of charity and
humanity; that many of its most precious acquisitions were gathered in
these very exercises of religion and of benevolence; that his usual text
books in each new language were the catechism and the Bible; and that his
favourite theatre for the display of his gifts were the sick wards of the
hospitals of Bologna, the Santo Spirito or the House of Catechumens at
Rome, and the halls and _camerate_ of the great Missionary College of the
Propaganda.
For myself, I cannot envy the moral and intellectual utilitarianism,
which pauses to measure by so paltry a standard a great psychological
phenomenon, such as Nature, in the most prodigal exercise of her powers,
has never before given to man to see. As well might we shut our eyes
to the glory of those splendid meteors which at intervals illumine the
sky, because we are unable to see what cold and sordid purpose of human
utility they may be made to subserve.
I prefer to look to him with grateful and affectionate admiration, as
a great example of the successful cultivation of one of the noblest of
God’s gifts to His creatures;—as the man who has approached nearest
to the withdrawal of that barrier to intercommunion of speech which,
in punishment of human pride, was set up at Babel; and of whom, more
literally than of any other son of Adam, it may be said, that he could
Hold converse with all forms
Of the many-sided mind.
APPENDIX.
[Allusion is made, more than once, in this volume, to Cardinal
Mezzofanti’s habit of amusing himself and his friends by writing short
metrical pieces in various languages, and of composing or correcting
the odes recited by the pupils at the annual Polyglot Academy of the
Propaganda. In the absence of other data for judging of his skill as a
linguist, these fragments, trifling though they be, are of considerable
interest; and I had hopes of being able to form a little collection of
them, as a contribution to the enquiry regarding him. Unfortunately my
search for these remains, trivial and fugitive as most of them must have
been, has been very unsuccessful. I am only able to add a few to those
which appear in the sheet of fac-similes, or which have been already
incidentally introduced in the course of the narrative.
The short pieces recited at the Propaganda Academy, being the property of
the pupils themselves, are not preserved in the college archives. I have
only succeeded in obtaining four of these pieces:—two from Rome, a Greek
Anacreontic Ode, and a couple of stanzas in the Grisons dialect; and
two in Angolese from the Rev. Charles Fernando, Missionary Apostolic in
Ceylon.
The Abbate Mazza, Vice-Rector of the Pontifical Seminary at Bologna, has
kindly sent me a Hebrew Psalm addressed by Mezzofanti, as a tribute on
his Jubilee (or the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination as a priest),
to his old friend and master, Father Emmanuel Aponte; and a Latin
Hexameter Poem, descriptive of St. Peter’s Church at Rome, recited by him
in the _Accademia degli Arcadi_, on his being elected a member of that
body.
These little pieces, it need hardly be said, are offered merely as
specimens of Mezzofanti’s power as a linguist, and not as possessing any
striking excellence, whether of poetry or sentiment. It is only just to
his memory to add that, judging from his well-known habit of composition,
they may all be presumed to be literally _impromptu_, and are entitled to
the full indulgence usually accorded to such productions.]
I. _Hebrew Psalm,[576] addressed to Father Emmanuel Aponte—on the
fiftieth anniversary of his ordination._
לסיוף מהזופאנתי
א. שמך עמנואל שס טוב כשמן תורף ץל כן רצו נץריﬦ ואהיבוך וזקניﬦ
גם המה בקשו חכמה שפתיך
ב. מה גאוו צל צייﬦ רגליך מבשר משמיץ משמיץ שלוס מבשר טוב משמיץ
ישוץה
ג. אור גגה בארצסו בץﬨ באך ממזרת מאז הגדלת השמחה והרביﬨ דץﬨ
ומוםר נﬨﬨ לרﬥ דורשי בינה ואור פני אדני בכל מץשיך ראו ץינינו
ד. הנה היום החלפת כנשר לבוא משכנות אדגי ואחרי חמישים שנﬣ תוצא
עוד לחם ויין כהן לאל ץליון כהן ץולם ץל דברתי מלכיצדך
ה. לכו נננו לארנדי ﬨשוץה לעור ישץנו כי התלה זקן טוכ חסיד לו
לגשת אליו לכהן להתפלל לפניו ולכתר ץןיגו
ו. גתת ארני לעמגואל חן וכבוד כי ﬣלך בתמים למד חןכמה ועאה עדק
ז. וץﬨה לנך אזנך אלהיﬦ מלך הכבור ץנה עבדיך תלמידי זקן טוב תן לו
ארך ומיﬦ ורצון וברכה תעטרהו
Transcriber’s Note: A better version might be:
ליוסף מהזופאנתי
א. שמך עמנואל שם טוב כשמן תורק על כן רצו נערים ואהיבוך וזקנים
גם המה בקשו חכמה שפתיך
ב. מה גאוו על איים רגליך מבשר משמיע משמיע שלום מבשר טוב משמיע
ישועה
ג. אור נגה בארצנו בעת באך ממזרח מאז הגדלת השמחה והרבית דעה
ומוסר נתת לכל דורשי בינה ואור פני אדני בכל מעשיך ראו עינינו
ד. הנה היום החלפת כנשר לבוא משכנות אדגי ואחרי חמישים שנה תוצא
עוד לחם ויין כהן לאל עליון כהן עולם על דברתי מלכיצדך
ה. לכו רננו לאדני תשועה לצור ישענו כי הפלה זקן טוב חסיד לו לגשת
אליו לכהן להתפלל לפניו ולכפר עלינו
ו. נתת אדני לעמגואל חן וכבוד כי הלך בתמים למד חכמה ועאה עדק
ז. ועתה לנך אזנך אלהים מלך הכבוד ענה עבדיך תלמידי זקן טוב תן לו
ארך יומים ורצון וברכה תעטרהו
_Latin Translation._
Josephus Mezzofanti.
1. Nomen tuum, Emanuel, nomen bonum, sicut oleum effusum,
propterea excurrerunt adolescentes, et dilexerunt te. Et senes
ipsi quoque quæsierunt sapientiam labiorum tuorum,
2. Quam speciosi fuerunt in insulis pedes tui, evangelizans
predicator! prædicans pacem, evangelizans bonum, prædicans
salutem!
3. Luxfulsit in terra nostra, quando venisti ab oriente: ex
eo tempore magnificasti lætitiam et multiplicasti scientiam,
et eruditionem dedisti omnibus quærentibus intelligentiam; et
lumen vultus Domini in omnibus operibus tuis viderunt oculi
nostri.
4. Ecce hodie innovas te sicut aquila, ut intres in habitacula
Domini: et post quinquaginta annos profers adhuc panem et
vinum, sacerdos Dei Altissimi, sacerdos in eternum secundum
ordinem Melchisedec.
5. Venite exultemus Domino, jubilemus petræ salutis nostræ;
quia segregavit senem bonum sanctum sibi, ut accederet ad
eum, ut fungeretur sacerdotio, ut ovaret ante faciem ejus, ut
propitiaret super nos.
6. Dedisti Domine Emanueli gratiam et gloriam, quia ambulavit
in integritate, docuit sapientiam, et operatus est justitiam.
7. Nunc ergo inclina aurem tuam, Deus Rex Gloriæ! Exaudi servos
tuos, discipulos senis boni! Da illi longitudinem dierum et
beneplacito ac benedictione corona his illum!
II. _Greek Anacreontie Ode “On the Adoration of the Shepherds,” composed
for the Propaganda Academy._
Ὁ καιρὸς ἦλθεν ᾔδη
Ὁν εἵσαν οἱ προφήται·
Υἱος δ’ ὁ του Θέοῖο
Ἐξ ουρανῶν κατήλθεν,
Ἱνα βροτους σαὤσῃ.
Αύτὸς δ’ Ἄναξ ἀνάκτων,
Ἐκ Παρθένου γενητὸς,
Θρόνον Θεῳ πρέποντα,
Οὐκ εἶχεν, ἄλλὰ φάτνον.
Ὁ δ’ Ἄγγελος παραστάς
Τοἶς ποιμεδιν, διδάσει
Ὡς κόσμου ἤλθ’ ὁ Σωτήρ.
Oἱ δ’ εὐθεώς λαβόντες
Δῶρα βρέφει φέεουσι,
Χάριν δ’ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ εὖρον.
Πένης δ’ ὅλως ἅμ’ ἆυτοίς
Ἀμνὸν τὸν εἶχε μοῦνον
Ἤνεγκε τῴ Νεογνῷ.
Ὁ Παῖς ὁρᾷ τὸν ὰμνόν,
Καί προζγελᾲ διδόντι.
Τὶ τότ’; Ἔγνω γἕρ αὑτου
Τῦπὸν—Θεοῦ περ αὐτός
Ὁ πρᾶος ἐστίν ἀμνός
Ἁμαρτίας ἀφαιρὡν
Tόυ κόσμου—Αμνὲ, χαἶρε!
Ἄρον δ’ ἁμαρτίας μου!
Ἄρον—χάριν τε δός μοι!
III. _Latin Hexameter Poem, recited in the Arcadian Academy at Rome._
J. M.
PASTOR ARCAS.
Romuleas Arces, fulgentia Templa Tonantis
Quae fuerant dudum, conscendo munere vestro,
Arcades; et celsas sedes teneo, Arcas et ipse,
Et parvi custos nemoris. Sed non ego doctus,
Aut calamos inflare leves, aut dicere versus;
At geminare sonos gaudens, et reddere voces,
Quas longinqua edit gens, aut contermina nostræ.
Hic adsum, florens postquam est exacta juventa,
Temporaque adventans mihi tardior inficit aetas,
Adsumus hic, patriosque lares, et linquimus arva,
Pinguia quæ Rheni preterfluit unda minoris:
Linquimus et colles, varium queis Daedala tellus
Submittit florem et vites—tua munera, Bacche!
Linquimus et turres, quarum altera celsa minatur
In cœlum, impendit præfracto vertice flexa
Altera, nutanti similis jam jamque ruenti.
Adsumus hic tandem, Eumetes[577] cum tempora vittâ
Tergeminâ redimit, cœlique oracula promit.
Scilicet hic nobis suprema e sede benignus,
Annuit. Æternam tum nos advenimus Urbem.
Hic vestra assidue lustrans decora alta, Quirites,
Quaeque recens tulit, et quæ prisci temporis aetas.
Vocibus hæc refero, “Vos terque, quaterque beati,
Non peritura quibus vulgata est fama per orbem!”
Eximia at quoties cerno heic monumenta virorum,
Felsina quos aluit, quosve extulit infula Petri,
Quive aedes vestras decorant et Templa, Quirites,
Tunc animus nobis patriæ exardescit amore!
Dulcia tune nostrum pertentant gaudia pectus!
Tum Templum ingressus, quo nil præstantius aevis,
Praeteritis vidit Sol, aspicietque futuris,
Admiror molem ingentem, artificumque labores,
En mihi spectanti fulget morientis imago,
Mira senis,[578] sapiens qui dia volumina pandit!
Aspice, ut in genua is procumbens corpore toto,
Brachia demittit, languentia lumina torquet,
Et capit extrema, eternae sed pabula vitæ,
Illic cerne modo, ut malo suspenditur alto,
Saevi qui morbi contagia depulit Urbe!
Hinc miles validis incurvat viribus arcum,
Atque hinc acer equus permissis fertur habenis:—
Diffugiunt matres, puerique, ignobile vulgus;—
Ast Heros ad cœlum ardentia lumina tendit,
Dicenti similis:—“Nostrum accipe, Christe, cruorem!”
Protinus en Michael exerto devolat ense,[579]
Ac monstrum horrendum sub tristia Tartara mittit,
Parte alia occubuit cœlesti percita amore,
Et volat ad superos virgo de germine Petri![580]
Hæc præclara artis miracula, Felsina prodis,
In tua cum varios inducis vela colores!
Sed quinam effulgent niveo de marmore vultus!
En opus, en!—Algarde, tuum, et spirantia signa![581]
Attila hic, ille Leo: demissi nubibus instant
Et Petrus et Paulus, magnæ tutamina Romæ!
Attila terrarum metus, et squalentibus armis,
Horridus, ense ferox Martis, (sic namque putaret,
Ensem quem Pastor vitulæ vestigia læsæ,
Atra cruore sequens Scythiis invenerat agris,)
Elatosque gerens animos cœlique flage lum,
Sese compellans, sibi totum adsciverat Orbem.
Ergo suis atrox erumpit sedibus, atque
Bella ciet populis late, crudelia bella;
Omnia namque furens ferro populatur et igne;
Efferus incedit per membra fluentia tabo;
Respicit, et gaudet loca jam convulsa ruinis.
Immites primum Dacas juga ferre coegit;
Tum quoque Bistonios, dein Odrysiosque feroces;
Illyriumque; tuas exin, Germania, terras!
Illum nec Rhenus nec Gallia terret ovantem;
Pulsus, proh, remeat, pelagi ceu refluit unda!
Ocius ille domum rediit: pudor incitat iras;
Agmina dira legit, bellumque ferocius urget,
Ac nova Romanæ meditatur praelia genti.
Qualis percussus saevo leo vulnere, pugnam
Integrat, et late silvas rugitibus implet;
Talem Hunnorum Rex gestans in corde furorem,
Italiae ingreditur campos et milite complet.
Omnis humo fumat jam Aquileja; Mediolanum,
Et Verona ruunt; Ticinum et Parma fatiscunt:
Attila per medias cædes bacchatur et ignes:
Sed nihil ille actum reputat, dum Roma superstes.
Ire parat Romam: convellit signa, movetque
Agmina; cen apium ducunt examina reges!
Tunc illum miles dictis affatur amicis.
“Quo tibi nunc iter? Heu! acies Alaricus in Urbem,
Induxit;—mox ingreditur dum mænia Rhegi,
Connubiumque parat, fato decedit acerbo!”
Hæc audit, dubiusque hæret. Mox æstuat ira
Dux, movet et castra. Est eadem sententia menti,
Cum subito miserisque dolens, et cœlitus actus,
Magnus adest Leo, sacra vitta et veste decorus.
Constitit ille tremens, stupet, et vox faucibus hæret!
Verba deinde audit dulci stillantia melle;
Mitescunt animi dictis, et corda residunt.
“Attila quo cessere minæ, quo spiritus acer?”
Hæc miles. Contra Hunnorum Rex talia fatur:
“Nonne duos aetate graves atque ore severo,
Delapsos caelo spectas mortemque minantes,
Districtis gladiis? Feror hinc!—Jam tollite signa,
Et patrios fines, montes silvasque petamus:—
Mens hand illa mihi bello contendere Divis!”
Hæc ait, et nostris excedit finibus Hunnus.
Ast nullæ servant latebræ, nullique recessus,
Persequitur quos ira Dei. Namque Attila, solvit
Dum metibus sese, parat et dulces hymenæos,
Occubuit proprio suffusus nocte cruore!
Est Deus in cœlis fandi memor atque nefandi!
At Leo contendit Romam, jussitque lubentes,
Et Petro et Paulo persolvere vota Quirites;
Et Petrus et Paulus resonant per templa, per aedes!
Felix Roma! Tibi hæc data sunt munimina cœlo!
Et dedit Eumetem mitis Deus atque benignus!
Imperat Eumetes, et pax dominabitur Orbi!
Arcades, o Petrum et Paulum celebrate canentes;
Et vestros repetent septena cacumina versus!
Vos Petri Paulique fidem servate, Quirites!
Eternum servate fidem, servabitis Urbem!
IV. _Epiphany Ode in the Angolese language, written for the Academy of
1845._[582]
He Zambi! Mubundulula,
Mubundulula coettu.
Mu Quixixi Quitombi,
Quitombi, O—vundu,
O Riala muca cuffua mucutu,
Muca! I’nhia!
Tctembuca!
Kieno ki Miscino,
Skitatu miscino,
A—ssueta a Belem,
A-beza camona,
Camona cafeli.
Nhi-bula-canu,
Una camona Zambi,
Zambi ni Riala ni,
Mubundulula via Quinixi,
Ocutanhinha u-a-gile,
Hi Riala! batessa ocutanhinha,
Beza a-camona,
A-camona cafeli,
Eyè muca muno,
V. _Angolese Ode for the Academy of 1846._
Tctembuca, Tctembuca!
I’nhai? Kieno ki,
Amona—Miscino,
Kitatu Misciso,
A-bocala monsu,
Monsu via Kian cu,
Kieno-ki! una-a-beza,
A-beza camona,
Camona cafeli.
Ah! nghi-bala cana,
Tina camona Zambi,
Monandanghi Zambi,
Mubundulula, Mobundulala, coettu!
VI. _Epiphany Ode in the Grisons, or Graubünden, Dialect._
Steila che partas legerment,
E trej reigs clomag d’alg orient,
Ti clara steila ventireila,
Meinag a Dieu l’olma fideiola!
O Telg da Dieu! o mig salvader!
D’ilg pievelg tuttig ti ey sprindrader!
Gloria al Bab che Ti ha envian!
Piugch alg Christgang ehe Ti has trostigian!
VII. [The following epigram was addressed to Cardinal Lambruschini on the
appearance of his Essay on the Immaculate Conception of the B.V.M. It is
hardly worthy of the subject.]
Tota es pulcra, DEI Genitrix, ab origine pulcra es!
Hoc decuit, potuit, fecit et Omnipotens.
Asserit invictus decus hoc Tibi fulgidus ostro
Auctor. Scriptorem protege, Virgo, tuum.
The Italian version which accompanied it is much more happy.
Tutta se’bella, o di DIO Madre;
Sin da principio bella tu sé.
Cosi addicevasi, e il Sommo Padre
Tutto potendo, cosi pur fé.
Or Ti mantiene un tanto onore,
Chi d’ostro fulgido tra lo splendor,
A’ penna invitta di grande Autore:
Proteggi, o Vergine, il tuo Scrittor!
VIII. _French Stanza given to children after their First Communion._
Demandez an bon Dieu le don de la sagesse;
C’est le veritable trésor!—demandez-le sans cesse!
Mais it faut le chercher avec simplicité
Pour guide, mes enfans, prenant la Pieté.
IX. _Italian Stanza._
Di mille voci e mille quanto al cuore
Più soave e gradita è la parola,
Che un afflitto consola,
E l’anima solleva al Creatore!
X. _English verses given to an Irish student on his leaving the
Propaganda._
“May Christ be on your lips and heart!
Show forth by facts what words impart;
That, by sound words and good behaviour,
You may lead others to the Saviour.”
XI. _Written for a student._
O man, what is thy science?—Vanity:
And thou art nothing without charity.
END.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Works I., p. 42.
[2] Mithridates, Vol. II. Einleitung, p. 7.
[3] See the whole legend in Huc’s Chinese Empire, II., p. 187-8.
[4] Auswahl Historischer Stücke aus Hebräischen Schriftstellern, von den
zweiten Jahrhundert bis auf die Gegenwart, Berlin, 1840, p. 10. The book
is entitled _Pirki Rabbi Eliezer_, “The chapters of Rabbi Eliezer.” Its
date is extremely uncertain. See Moreri Dict. Hist. VII., 361.
[5] See Prideaux’s Life of Mahomet, p. 66.
[6] According to the account of Pliny, Dioscurias, a city of Colchis (the
present Iskuriah,) was frequented for commercial purposes by no less than
_three hundred different races_; and he adds that a hundred and thirty
interpreters were employed there under the Romans (_Hist. Nat._ VI.,
5. Miller’s Ed. II., 176.) The Arabian writers, Ibn Haukal and Musadi,
mention seventy-two languages which were spoken at Derbent. Strabo speaks
of twenty-six in the Eastern Caucasus alone. See _The Tribes of the
Caucasus_, p. 14, also p. 32.
[7] Dahlmann, p. 47. It would be presumptuous to differ from so ingenious
a writer, and so profound a master of the subject which he treats; but I
may observe that there are some passages of Herodotus which seem to imply
a certain degree at least of acquaintance with Egyptian (for instance II.
79, II. 99), and with the ancient language of Persia, as IX. 100, &c. It
must be admitted, however, that a very superficial knowledge of either
language would suffice to explain these allusions.
[8] XVII. 17.
[9] This is not Mithridates’s only title to distinction. Perhaps it may
not be so generally known that he was equally celebrated for his powers
of eating and drinking! Athenæus tells of him that he once offered a
prize of a talent to the greatest eater in his dominions. After a full
competition the prize was awarded to Mithridates _himself_.—_Athenæus,
Deipnosoph., Book X., p. 415._
[10] VIII. 7.
[11] Hist. Nat. VII. 24, and again XXV. 2.
[12] Life of Anthony. Langhorne’s Plutarch, v. p. 182.
[13] It was probably by some such fanciful analogy that Cecrops obtained
the name δίφυης, because he knew both Greek and Egyptian.
[14] See a long list of examples cited by Bayle, Dict. Histor. I. 943.
The legislation on the subject, however, was not uniform; nor is it easy
to reconcile some parts of it with each other, or to understand any
general principles on which they can be founded.
[15] Pænulus, act v., sc. 1.
[16] With the exception of Tacitus, who claimed to be of the family of
the great historian, and made a vigorous but unsuccessful effort for the
revival of declining Latinity.
[17] See Milman’s Latin Christianity, I., 28-9.
[18] In some congregations, as early as the first and second century,
there were official interpreters [Ἑρμηνεύται], whose duty it was to
translate into the provincial tongues, what had been read in the church.
They resembled the interpreters of the Jewish synagogue. See Neander’s
Kirchen-Geschichte, I. 530.
[19] Stromata, I. 276 (Paris, 1641.)
[20] Opp. I. 326 (Paris, 1609.) Hom. in Laudem St. Basilii.
[21] See Bayle, Dict. Historique, I. 408. It is curious that the
victorious Mussulmen at Jerusalem enacted the very opposite. No Christian
was permitted to speak the sacred language of the Koran. See Milman’s
“Latin Christianity,” II. 42, and again III. 225. It would be interesting
to examine the history of enactments of this kind, and their effects upon
the languages which they were intended to suppress,—the Norman efforts
against English, those of the English against Celtic, Joseph II’s against
Magyar, and others of the same kind.
[22] Ep. VI. 27.
[23] When the Patriarch Nestorius wrote to Pope Celestine his account of
the controversy now known under his name, the latter was obliged, before
he could reply, to wait till Nestorius’s letter had been translated into
Latin. Erat enim in Latinum sermo vertendus. This letter, together with
those of Cyril of Alexandria, form part of an interesting correspondence
which illustrates very strikingly the pre-eminence then enjoyed in the
Church by the Roman bishop, and is found in Hardouin’s Concilia, I. 1302.
See also Walch’s Historie der Ketzereien, V. 701.
[24] Even Pope Vigilius himself professes his want of familiarity with
the Greek language. See his celebrated _Constitutum_ in Hardouin’s Coll.
Concil III. col. 39.
[25] See the original in Labbe’s _Concilia_, VIII. 835. Both the original
and the translation will be found in Leibnitz’s “System of Theology,” p.
52, note.
[26] See Milman’s Latin Christianity, IV. p. 58, and again 367.
[27] The titles of nearly two hundred of his works are still preserved.
[28] Rohrbacher Hist. de l’Eglise, XIX., 569.
[29] He is the author of a History of Spain, in nine books; and besides
his very remarkable attainments as a linguist, was reputed among the most
learned scholars of his age.
[30] See the account in Labbe, Collect. Concil. VII. 79. The writer
observes; Cum ab apostolorum tempore auditum non sit nec scriptum
reperiatur, quemque ad populum eandem concionem habuisse tot ac tam
diversis linguis cuncta exponendo. The fact is also related by Feyjoo,
Teatro critico, IV. p. 400. An interesting account of this remarkable
scholar will be found in the _Bibliotheca Hispana Vetus_ II. _pp. 149-50_.
[31] The Family of Barbaro produced many distinguished linguists,
according to the opportunities of the time. Francesco Barbaro, born in
1398, was one of the earliest eminent Greek scholars of Italy. Ermolao,
the commentator on Aristotle, was said by the wits of his time to have
been such a purist in Greek, that he did not stop at consulting the devil
when he was at a loss for the precise meaning of a word—the much disputed
ἐντελεχέια of Aristotle!—See Bayle’s Dict. Hist. Art. _Barbaro_ I. 473.
[32] Venice was long remarkable for her encouragement of skill in living
languages. It was a necessary qualification for most of her diplomatic
appointments; and, while Latin, in Europe, was still the ordinary medium
of diplomatic intercourse, we find a Venetian ambassador to England, in
1509, Badoer, capable of conversing like a native in English, French, and
German.—See an interesting paper, “Venetian Dispatches,” in the Quarterly
Review, vol. xcvi. p. 369.
[33] M’Crie’s Reformation in Spain, I. p. 61. See also Hallam’s Literary
History, I. p. 197.
[34] See the Bibliotheca Hispana, vol. I. pref. p. vii.
[35] See Hefele’s _Der Cardinal Ximenes_: one of the most interesting and
learned biographies with which I am acquainted, p. 124.
[36] Vol. II., p. 788.
[37] Naima’s Annals of the Turkish Empire, translated by M. Frazer, for
the Oriental Translation Society. For this fact I am indebted to the
kindness of Mr. Watts, of the British Museum, but I am unable to refer to
the passage.
[38] Pilgrimage to El Medinah, II. p. 368.
[39] Ibid. I., p. 179.
[40] Burton’s Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah. III., 368.
[41] Annals of the Turkish Empire, p. 45.
[42] A melancholy instance of the capriciousness of this sort of
reputation, and of the unhappiness by which, in common with many other
gifts, it is often accompanied, is recorded in the Paris journals of the
early part of this year. A man apparently about fifty years old, named
Tinconi, a native of Constantinople, was found dead at his lodgings in
the Rue des Vieux Augustins, having perished, as it afterwards appeared,
of hunger. This ill-fated man was possessed of an ample fortune, and had
held high diplomatic appointments; and, besides being well-versed in
ancient and modern literature, he spoke not fewer than ten languages,
and knew several others! Yet almost the only record of his varied
accomplishments is that which also tells the story of his melancholy end!
[43] See his life by Pococke, prefixed to the translation of his work _De
Termino Vitæ_. 1699.
[44] See Dr. Paul De Lagarde’s learned dissertation, “De Geoponicon
Versione Syriacâ” (p. 3, Leipsig, 1855). This dissertation is an account
of a hitherto unknown Syriac version of the “Scriptores Rei Rusticæ”
which Dr. De Lagarde discovered among the Syriac MSS. of the British
Museum. He has also transcribed from the same collection many similar
remains of Syriac literature, partly sacred, partly profane, which he
purposes to publish at intervals. Some of the former especially, as
referring to the Ante-Nicene period, are, like those already published
by Mr. Cureton, of great interest to students of Christian antiquity,
although the same drawback—doubt as to their age and authorship—must
affect the doctrinal value of them all.
[45] This laborious and prolific writer, whose works fill nearly 20
volumes, is said to have used the same pen for no less than forty
years, and to have been thrown almost into despair upon its accidental
destruction at the end of that period.
[46] Some of these visited the English universities. Of one among the
number, named Metrophanes Critopulus, who was sent by Cyrillus Lucaris
to be indoctrinated in Anglican Theology, and who lived at Oxford at
the charge of archbishop Abbott, a very amusing account is given by the
disappointed prelate in a letter quoted by Neale (History of Alexandria,
II., 413-5.) He turned out “an unworthy fellow,” “far from ingenuity
or any grateful respect,” a “rogue and beggar,” and in other ways
disappointed the care bestowed on him.
[47] One specimen may suffice, which is furnished by Mr. Neale:
“_Collavi_ (_I have collated_) sua notata cum textu Bellarmini.” Neale,
II., p. 402. The Easterns seldom seem at home in the languages of Europe;
Italian, and still more French orthography, is their great puzzle. I have
seen specimens of Oriental Italian which, for orthography, might rival
“Jeames’s” English, or the French of Augustus the Strong.
[48] Panagiotes was a native of Scio, and was known in his later life
under the sobriquet of “the Green Horse,” in allusion to a local proverb,
that “it is easier to find a green horse than a wise man in Scio.”
The appellation was the highest tribute that could be rendered to the
prudence and ability of Panagiotes; but it is also a curious confirmation
of the evil repute, as regards honesty, in which the islanders of the
Egean were held from the earliest times. The reader will probably
remember the satirical couplet of Phocylides about the honesty of the
Lerians, which Porson applied, in a well-known English parody, to the
Greek scholarship of Herrmann.
————Λέριοι κάκοι ὄυκ ὁ μὲν ὅστδ’ όυ
Πάντες πλήν Προκλέους και Πρόκλεης Λέριος.
[49] An elaborate account of them will be found in Neumann’s _Versuch
einer Geschichte der Armenischen Literatur_. Leipzig, 1836. On the
exceeding importance of the Armenian language for the general study
of the entire Indo-Germanic family, see the extremely learned essay,
_Urgeschichte der Armenier, ein Philologischer Versuch_. (Berlin, 1854.)
It is published anonymously, but is believed to be from the pen of the
distinguished Orientalist named in page 22.
[50] I do not think it necessary to mention (though he is a little
earlier) Felix of Ragusa, the principal librarian, or rather book
collector, of Matthias Corvinus, king of Hungary. He is said to have
known, besides Greek and Latin, the Chaldee, Arabic, and Syriac languages.
[51] Sugli Uomini di gran Memoria, p. 27.
[52] The history of this MS. is a strange one. In the sack of Pavia by
the French under Lautrec, it was carried off among the plunder. Teseo was
in despair at the loss, and was returning to Rome with a sad heart. At
Ferrara, he chanced to see a quantity of papers at a charcoal burner’s,
just on the point of being consigned to the furnace. What was his delight
to find his precious Psalter among them! He began the printing of it at
Ferrara without delay, but did not live to see its completion.
[53] Adelung’s Mithridates, I., 646. See also Biogr. Universelle, II., p.
25.
[54] Biograph. Univ. XV. 239.
[55] There is another Pigafetta (Felippo), some years the junior of
Antonio, who was also a very extensive traveller, having visited Turkey,
Egypt, Syria, Croatia, Hungary, the Ukraine, and the northern kingdoms.
He was sent into Persia on a diplomatic mission by Sixtus V. But I have
not been able to find any record of his skill in languages.
[56] Thevet’s _Thresor des Langues_, p. 964.
[57] Raimondi had spent many years in the East, and was acquainted
with most of the Oriental languages, living and dead. He projected
a polyglot bible which should contain the Arabic, Syriac, Persic,
Ethiopic, Armenian, and Coptic versions, accompanied by the Grammars and
Dictionaries of these languages. But the death of Gregory XIII., on whose
patronage he mainly relied for the execution of his project, put a stop
to the undertaking.
[58] A copy of this work is found in the Catalogue of Cardinal
Mezzofanti’s Library, by Signor Bonifazi. It is in 4 vols., fol., Milan,
1632.
[59] Conciliatio Ecclesiæ Armenæ cum Romana, ex ipsis Armenorum Patrum
et Doctorum Testimoniis. 2 vols fol., Romæ 1658—It is in Bonifazi’s
Catalogue of the Mezzofanti Library, p. 20.
[60] Feller’s Dict. Biog. art. _Galani_.
[61] The learned Jesuit, Father Giambattista Ferrari, author of the
_Nomenclator Syrus_, is an exception to the general rule. He does not
appear to have been a member of any of the Eastern missions. Angelo
Canini, the eminent Syriac scholar, though born in Italy, belongs rather
to the French school.
[62] Wadding assigns his death to the year 1638; but it is clear from
the preface of the Thesaurus that he was dead several years before its
publication, which was in 1636.
[63] _Alcorani Textus Universus._ 2 vols, fol., Padua, 1698.
[64] Biogr. Uni. XV. 263, (Brussels Ed.)
[65] He must not be confounded with a German Orientalist, Christopher
Sigismund Georgi, who lived about the same time.
[66] Biographie Universelle, Vol. XXVI, p. 128.
[67] For this interesting anecdote of Father Ignazio de Rossi, I am
indebted to Cardinal Wiseman, who learned it from the companions of the
good old father upon the occasion. His Eminence added, that it was done
as a mere amusement, and without the least effort or the remotest idea of
preparation.
[68] Through the kindness of the Cavaliere Pezzana, Royal Librarian and
Privy Councillor of Parma, I have been fortunate enough to obtain copies
of some of Mezzofanti’s letters to De Rossi, which will be found in their
chronological order hereafter.
[69] It is a magnificent folio, entitled “Epithalamia Exoticis Linguis
Reddita;” one of the most curious productions of the celebrated press of
Bodoni. Parma, 1775.
[70] The _Panglossia_ in honour of Peiresc was the work of many hands,
and cannot fairly be compared with the Epithalamia of De Rossi. I have
never seen a copy of the latter, nor does De Rossi himself, in his modest
autobiography, (_Memorie Storiche_, Parma, 1807, p. 19), enumerate the
languages which it contained.
[71] The ingenious mechanician, Prince Raimondo di Sansevero, of Naples,
had some name as a linguist. He is said to have known Latin, Greek,
Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic, and several modern languages. But his knowledge
was very superficial.
[72] _Theatro Critico_, IV., p. 401, Art. _Glorias de España_.
[73] _Bibliotheca Hispana_, Vol. IV., p. 75.
[74] Thus amusingly “Englished” in Wanley’s “Wonders of the Little
World,” p. 285:—
“A young man have I seen,
At twenty years so skilled,
That every art he knew, and all
In all degrees excelled!
Whatever yet was writ,
He vaunted to pronounce
(Like a young Antichrist) if he
Did read the same but once.”
[75] P. 457. The work was printed in the same volume with Peter Martyr’s
_De Rebus Oceanicis_. Cologne, 1574.
[76] Bruce’s Travels, III, 134.
[77] Duret refers for some notice of Covilham, to the rare work of
Alvarez, _De Historia Ethiopum_. In the hope of discovering something
further regarding this remarkable and little-known linguist, I
endeavoured to consult that author; but I have not been able to find a
copy. It is not in the British Museum.
[78] Galatinus de Arcanis Cath. Veritatis Libri XII. (Frankfort 1572), B.
III. c. 6, p. 120.
[79] There is considerable difference of opinion as to his birth-place.
But Nicholas Antonio, in the Bibliotheca Hispana, says it was Frexenal.
Vol. III. p. 207.
[80] Enfans Celebres, p. 198. Baillet says it was an edition of Seneca’s
Tragedies; but this is a mistake. The _In Senecæ Tragedias Adversaria_
did not appear till 1574.
[81] _Teatro Critico_, IV. 401.
[82] Feyjoo IV. p. 401. “Seguramente podemos creers in alguna rebaxa.”
The _Bibliotheca Hispana_ enumerates twelve languages, Greek, Latin,
Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Arabic, French, Flemish, Spanish, Italian, and
English. I. p. 207.
[83] This is, strange as it may seem, the lowest computation, and rests
on _Lope de Vega’s_ own testimony, written in 1630, five years before his
death. Speaking of the number of his dramatic fictions, he says to his
friend,
_Mil y quinientos_ fabulas admira.
By other authors the number is made much greater. According to some, as
his friend, Montalvan, he wrote _eighteen hundred_ plays; and Bouterwek,
in his History of Spanish Literature, puts it down at the enormous
estimate of _two thousand_. “_Spanish Literature_,” I. p. 361.
[84] Montalvan says _four hundred_. The _Bibliotheca Hispana_ says (vol.
iv., p. 75) “_eighteen hundred plays, and above four hundred sacred
dramas_.”
[85] A long list of grammars, vocabularies, dictionaries, catechisms,
&c., in more than forty-five different languages, compiled by the Spanish
missionaries, is given in the Bibliotheca Hispana, vol. IV. pp. 577-79.
[86] M. d’Abbadie assures me that Father Paez is still spoken of as “Ma
alim Petros” by the professors of Gondar and Bagënndir.
[87] Neale’s _History of the Patriarchate of Alexandria_ (London, 1837)
II. 405.
[88] Letter to M. Le Leu de Wilhem, quoted by Neale, II. 402.
[89] Biographie Universelle, IX. 301.
[90] Of the latter work I have never seen the Italian original. I know it
only from the Spanish _Catalogo de las Lenguas de las naciones conocidas,
y numeracion, division, y classes de estas, segun la Diversidad de sus
idiomas y dialectos_. 6 vols 4to. Madrid, 1800-5.
[91] Anthony Rodolph Chevalier, a Hebraist of some eminence, born in
Normandy in 1507, three years before Postel, has perhaps some claim to be
mentioned before him, inasmuch as several of his versions are inserted in
Walton’s Polyglot; but his history has hardly any interest.
[92] See Adelung’s Mithridates, I. 646. Postel published in the same
year, the first grammar of the Arabic language ever printed. Paris 1558.
[93] _Thresor de l’ Histoire de toutes les Langues de cet Univers._
Cologne, 613, p. 964.
[94] Adelung, in the appendix of the first volume of his _Mithridates_,
has enumerated several other Pater Nosters, Thevet, Vulcanius (the
latinized form of _Smet_), Merula, Duret, Mauer Waser, Reuter, Witzen,
Bartsch, Bergmann, and others. None of these collections, however,
possesses any special interest, as bearing on the present inquiry, nor
does it appear that any of the authors was particularly eminent as a
speaker of languages; unless we are to presume that Thevet, Duret,
Gramaye, and Witzen, may, in their long travel or sojourn in foreign
countries, have acquired the languages of the nations among whom they
lived. Of the last three names I shall say a few words hereafter.
[95] A portion of the edition contains a Latin preface, explanatory of
the plan and contents; but the majority of the copies have this preface
in Russian; and, in all, the character employed throughout the body of
the work is Russian. This character, however, may be mastered with so
little difficulty, that, practically, its adoption can hardly be said
to interfere materially with the usefulness of the work; and the use of
the Russian character had many advantages over the Roman, in accurately
representing the various sounds, especially those of the northern
languages.
An alphabetical digest (4 vols. 4to. 1790-1) of all the words contained
in the Vocabulary (arranged in the order of the alphabet without
reference to language) was compiled, a few years later, by Theodor
Jankiewitsch de Miriewo, by which it may be seen at once to what language
each word belongs. But this digest is described as unscientific in its
plan and execution; and it was commonly believed that the Empress was so
dissatisfied with it, that the work was suppressed and is now extremely
rare; but I have been informed by Mr. Watts of the British Museum, that
copies of it are now not unfrequently offered for sale. A copy has been
for some years in the British Museum.
[96] It is true that some part of its materials have since become
superannuated by the fuller and more accurate researches of later
investigators, (see Bunsen’s Christianity and Mankind, III. 47.) But it
is nevertheless a work even still of immense value.
[97] Strange and incredible as this anecdote may seem, it is told
seriously by Scaliger himself, who adds that the same extraordinary power
was possessed also by Jerome Cardan and by his father. See the curious
article in _Moreri_, _voce_ “Scaliger.”
[98] Enfans Celebres, p. 196.
[99] An equally eulogistic epigram, by Heinsius, is quoted by Hallam,
Literary History, II. 35.
[100] Scaligeriana, p. 130. This collection is the first of the series of
_anas_ since so popular.
[101] Ibid. p. 232.
[102] On Scaliger’s powers of abuse, see M. Nisard’s brilliant and
amusing Triumvirat Literaire au XVI. Siecle, p. 296, 302, 305, &c. The
“triumvirs” are Lipsius, Scaliger and Casaubon.
[103] Feller’s Dict. Biograph., vol. V. p. 312.
[104] Mithridates, I. 650.
[105] Cologne 1615.
[106] I cannot help thinking that Adelung quite underrates this curious
work. I have seldom consulted it but with pleasure or profit. And the
concluding chapter, “on the language of animals and of birds,” on
which great ridicule has been thrown, is in reality a very curious,
interesting, and judicious essay.
[107] Mr. Kenrick, in the preface of his recent work on Phœnicia,
confesses that “the most diligent reader of ancient authors with a view
to the illustration of Phœnician history, will find himself anticipated
or surpassed by Bochart.”
[108] Bochart’s death was the consequence of a fit with which he was
seized during a vehement dispute which he had with Huet, in the academy
of Caen in 1667, respecting the authenticity of some Spanish medals.
Huet appears to have long felt the memory of it painfully. He alludes to
it in a letter to his nephew, Piadore de Chersigne, above forty years
afterwards; and seems to console himself by thinking that Bochart’s death
“ne lui fut causèe par notre dispute, sinon en partie.” It is curious
that Disraeli has overlooked this in his “Quarrels of Authors.”
[109] Feller’s Dict. Biograph., vol. X. p. 476.
[110] Perhaps I ought to mention Renaudot’s contemporary, the Jesuit,
Father Claude Francis Menestrier, (1631-1704), who although not a great
linguist, is at least notable for the rather rare accomplishment of
speaking Greek with remarkable propriety and fluency, and still more for
his prodigious memory, which Queen Christina of Sweden tried by a very
singular ordeal. She had a string of three hundred words, the oddest
and most unconnected that could be devised, written down without the
least order or connexion, and read over once in Menestrier’s presence.
He repeated them in their exact order, without a single mistake or
hesitation!—_Biographie Univ., Vol. XXVIII._, _p._ 293.
A still more extraordinary example of this power of memory is related
by Padre Menocchio (the well-known Biblical commentator, Menochius) of
a young Corsican whom Muret met at Padua, and who was not only able
to repeat in their regular order a jumble of words similar to that
described above, but could repeat them _backwards, and with various other
modifications_! The youth assured Muret that he could retain in this way
36,000 words, and that he would undertake to keep them in memory for an
entire year! See Menocchio’s _Stuore_, Part III., p. 89. The _Stuore_
is a miscellaneous collection, compiled by this learned Jesuit during
his hours of recreation. He called the work by this quaint title (Ang.
“_Mats_”) in allusion to the habit of the ancient monks, who used to
employ their leisure hours in weaving _mats_, in the literal sense of
the word. This fanciful title is not unlike that chosen by Clement of
Alexandria for a somewhat similar miscellany, his Στρώματα [Tapestry], or
perhaps the more literal one “Patchwork,” assumed by a popular writer of
our own time.
[111] Many of the French missionaries in China, of course, were
distinguished Chinese scholars. The Dictionary of Pere Amiot, for
example, although not published till after his death, is still a standard
work. It was edited by Langlés in 1789-90.