How happy to defend our heart,
When Love has never thrown a dart!
But ah! unhappy when it bends,
If pleasure her soft bliss suspends!
Sweet in a wild disordered strain,
A lost and wandering heart to gain!
Oft in mistaken language wooed,
The skilful lover's understood.
These verses have such a resemblance to meaning, that Fontenelle, having
listened to the song, imagined that he had a glimpse of sense, and
requested to have it repeated. "Don't you perceive," said Madame Tencin,
"that they are _nonsense verses_?" The malicious wit retorted, "They are
so much like the fine verses I have heard here, that it is not
surprising I should be for once mistaken."
In the "Scribleriad" we find a good account of _the Cento_. A Cento
primarily signifies a cloak made of patches. In poetry it denotes a work
wholly composed of verses, or passages promiscuously taken from other
authors, only disposed in a new form or order, so as to compose a new
work and a new meaning. Ausonius has laid down the rules to be observed
in composing _Cento's_. The pieces may be taken either from the same
poet, or from several; and the verses may be either taken entire, or
divided into two; one half to be connected with another half taken
elsewhere; but two verses are never to be taken together. Agreeable to
these rules, he has made a pleasant nuptial _Cento_ from Virgil.[84]
The Empress Eudoxia wrote the life of Jesus Christ, in centos taken from
Homer; Proba Falconia from Virgil. Among these grave triflers may be
mentioned Alexander Ross, who published "Virgilius Evangelizans, sive
Historia Domini et Salvatoris nostri Jesu Christi Virgilianis verbis et
versibus descripta." It was republished in 1769.
A more difficult whim is that of "_Reciprocal Verses_," which give the
same words whether read backwards or forwards. The following lines by
Sidonius Apollinaris were once infinitely admired:--
_Signa te signa temere me tangis et angis.
Roma tibi subito motibus ibit amor._
The reader has only to take the pains of reading the lines backwards,
and he will find himself just where he was after all his fatigue.[85]
Capitaine Lasphrise, a French self-taught poet, boasts of his
inventions; among other singularities, one has at least the merit of _la
difficulté vaincue_. He asserts this novelty to be entirely his own; the
last word of every verse forms the first word of the following verse:
Falloit-il que le ciel me rendit amoureux
Amoureux, jouissant d'une beauté craintive,
Craintive à recevoir la douceur excessive,
Excessive au plaisir qui rend l'amant heureux;
Heureux si nous avions quelques paisibles lieux,
Lieux où plus surement l'ami fidèle arrive,
Arrive sans soupçon de quelque ami attentive,
Attentive à vouloir nous surprendre tous deux.
Francis Colonna, an Italian Monk, is the author of a singular book
entitled "The Dream of Poliphilus," in which he relates his amours with
a lady of the name of Polia. It was considered improper to prefix his
name to the work; but being desirous of marking it by some peculiarity,
that he might claim it at any distant day, he contrived that the initial
letters of every chapter should be formed of those of his name, and of
the subject he treats. This strange invention was not discovered till
many years afterwards: when the wits employed themselves in deciphering
it, unfortunately it became a source of literary altercation, being
susceptible of various readings. The correct appears thus:--POLIAM
FRATER FRANCISCUS COLUMNA PERAMAVIT. "Brother Francis Colonna
passionately loved Polia." This gallant monk, like another Petrarch,
made the name of his mistress the subject of his amatorial meditations;
and as the first called his Laura, his Laurel, this called his Polia,
his Polita.
A few years afterwards, Marcellus Palingenius Stellatus employed a
similar artifice in his ZODIACUS VITÆ, "The Zodiac of Life:" the initial
letters of the first twenty-nine verses of the first book of this poem
forming his name, which curious particular was probably unknown to
Warton in his account of this work.--The performance is divided into
twelve books, but has no reference to astronomy, which we might
naturally expect. He distinguished his twelve books by the twelve names
of the celestial signs, and probably extended or confined them purposely
to that number, to humour his fancy. Warton, however, observes, "This
strange pedantic title is not totally without a _conceit_, as the author
was born at _Stellada_ or _Stellata_, a province of Ferrara, and from
whence he called himself Marcellus Palingenius Stellatus." The work
itself is a curious satire on the Pope and the Church of Rome. It
occasioned Bayle to commit a remarkable _literary blunder_, which I
shall record in its place. Of Italian conceit in those times, of which
Petrarch was the father, with his perpetual play on words and on his
_Laurel_, or his mistress _Laura_, he has himself afforded a remarkable
example. Our poet lost his mother, who died in her thirty-eighth year:
he has commemorated her death by a sonnet composed of thirty-eight
lines. He seems to have conceived that the exactness of the number was
equally natural and tender.
Are we not to class among _literary follies_ the strange researches
which writers, even of the present day, have made in _Antediluvian_
times? Forgeries of the grossest nature have been alluded to, or quoted
as authorities. A _Book of Enoch_ once attracted considerable attention;
this curious forgery has been recently translated. The Sabeans pretend
they possess a work written by _Adam_! and this work has been _recently_
appealed to in favour of a visionary theory![86] Astle gravely observes,
that "with respect to _Writings_ attributed to the _Antediluvians_, it
seems not only decent but rational to say that we know nothing
concerning them." Without alluding to living writers, Dr. Parsons, in
his erudite "Remains of Japhet," tracing the origin of the alphabetical
character, supposes that _letters_ were known to _Adam_! Some, too, have
noticed astronomical libraries in the Ark of Noah! Such historical
memorials are the deliriums of learning, or are founded on forgeries.
Hugh Broughton, a writer of controversy in the reign of James the First,
shows us, in a tedious discussion on Scripture chronology, that Rahab
was a harlot at _ten_ years of age; and enters into many grave
discussions concerning the _colour_ of Aaron's _ephod_, and the language
which _Eve_ first spoke. This writer is ridiculed in Ben Jonson's
Comedies:--he is not without rivals even in the present day!
Covarruvias, after others of his school, discovers that when male
children are born they cry out with an A, being the first vowel of the
word _Adam_, while the female infants prefer the letter E, in allusion
to _Eve_; and we may add that, by the pinch of a negligent nurse, they
may probably learn all their vowels. Of the pedantic triflings of
commentators, a controversy among the Portuguese on the works of Camoens
is not the least. Some of these profound critics, who affected great
delicacy in the laws of epic poetry, pretended to be doubtful whether
the poet had fixed on the right time for a _king's dream_; whether, said
they, a king should have a propitious dream on his _first going to bed_
or at the _dawn of the following morning_? No one seemed to be quite
certain; they puzzled each other till the controversy closed in this
felicitous manner, and satisfied both the night and the dawn critics.
Barreto discovered that an _accent_ on one of the words alluded to in
the controversy would answer the purpose, and by making king Manuel's
dream to take place at the dawn would restore Camoens to their good
opinion, and preserve the dignity of the poet.
Chevreau begins his History of the World in these words:--"Several
learned men have examined in _what season_ God created the world, though
there could hardly be any season then, since there was no sun, no moon,
nor stars. But as the world must have been created in one of the four
seasons, this question has exercised the talents of the most curious,
and opinions are various. Some say it was in the month of _Nisan_, that
is, in the spring: others maintain that it was in the month of _Tisri_,
which begins the civil year of the Jews, and that it was on the _sixth
day_ of this month, which answers to our _September_, that _Adam_ and
_Eve_ were created, and that it was on a _Friday_, a little after four
o'clock in the afternoon!" This is according to the Rabbinical notion
of the eve of the Sabbath.
The Irish antiquaries mention _public libraries_ that were before the
flood; and Paul Christian Ilsker, with profounder erudition, has given
an exact catalogue of _Adam's_. Messieurs O'Flaherty, O'Connor, and
O'Halloran, have most gravely recorded as authentic narrations the
wildest legendary traditions; and more recently, to make confusion
doubly confounded, others have built up what they call theoretical
histories on these nursery tales. By which species of black art they
contrive to prove that an Irishman is an Indian, and a Peruvian may be a
Welshman, from certain emigrations which took place many centuries
before Christ, and some about two centuries after the flood! Keating, in
his "History of Ireland," starts a favourite hero in the giant
Partholanus, who was descended from Japhet, and landed on the coast of
Munster 14th May, in the year of the world 1987. This giant succeeded in
his enterprise, but a domestic misfortune attended him among his Irish
friends:--his wife exposed him to their laughter by her loose behaviour,
and provoked him to such a degree that he killed two favourite
greyhounds; and this the learned historian assures us was the _first_
instance of female infidelity ever known in Ireland!
The learned, not contented with Homer's poetical pre-eminence, make him
the most authentic historian and most accurate geographer of antiquity,
besides endowing him with all the arts and sciences to be found in our
Encyclopædia. Even in surgery, a treatise has been written to show, by
the variety of the _wounds_ of his heroes, that he was a most scientific
anatomist; and a military scholar has lately told us, that from him is
derived all the science of the modern adjutant and quarter-master
general; all the knowledge of _tactics_ which we now possess; and that
Xenophon, Epaminondas, Philip, and Alexander, owed all their warlike
reputation to Homer!
To return to pleasanter follies. Des Fontaines, the journalist, who had
wit and malice, inserted the fragment of a letter which the poet
Rousseau wrote to the younger Racine whilst he was at the Hague. These
were the words: "I enjoy the conversation within these few days of my
associates in Parnassus. Mr. Piron is an excellent antidote against
melancholy; _but_"--&c. Des Fontaines maliciously stopped at this _but_.
In the letter of Rousseau it was, "but unfortunately he departs soon."
Piron was very sensibly affected at this equivocal _but_, and resolved
to revenge himself by composing one hundred epigrams against the
malignant critic. He had written sixty before Des Fontaines died: but of
these only two attracted any notice.
Towards the conclusion of the fifteenth century, Antonio Cornezano wrote
a hundred different sonnets on one subject, "the eyes of his mistress!"
to which possibly Shakspeare may allude, when Jaques describes a lover,
with his
Woeful ballad,
Made to his mistress' eyebrow.
Not inferior to this ingenious trifler is Nicholas Franco, well known in
Italian literature, who employed himself in writing two hundred and
eighteen satiric sonnets, chiefly on the famous Peter Aretin. This
lampooner had the honour of being hanged at Rome for his defamatory
publications. In the same class are to be placed two other writers.
Brebeuf, who wrote one hundred and fifty epigrams against a painted
lady. Another wit, desirous of emulating him, and for a literary
bravado, _continued_ the same subject, and pointed at this unfortunate
fair three hundred more, without once repeating the thoughts of Brebeuf!
There is a collection of poems called "_La_ PUCE _des grands jours de
Poitiers_." "The FLEA of the carnival of Poietiers." These poems were
begun by the learned Pasquier, who edited the collection, upon a FLEA
which was found one morning in the bosom of the famous Catherine des
Roches!
Not long ago, a Mr. and Mrs. Bilderdyk, in Flanders, published poems
under the whimsical title of "White and Red."--His own poems were called
white, from the colour of his hair; and those of his lady red, in
allusion to the colour of the rose. The idea must be Flemish!
Gildon, in his "Laws of Poetry," commenting on this line of the Duke of
Buckingham's "Essay on Poetry,"
Nature's chief masterpiece is _writing well_:
very profoundly informs his readers "That what is here said has not the
least regard to the _penmanship_, that is, to the fairness or badness of
the handwriting," and proceeds throughout a whole page, with a panegyric
on a _fine handwriting_! The stupidity of dulness seems to have at times
great claims to originality!
Littleton, the author of the Latin and English Dictionary, seems to
have indulged his favourite propensity to punning so far as even to
introduce a pun in the grave and elaborate work of a Lexicon. A story
has been raised to account for it, and it has been ascribed to the
impatient interjection of the lexicographer to his scribe, who, taking
no offence at the peevishness of his master, put it down in the
Dictionary. The article alluded to is, "CONCURRO, to run with others; to
run together; to come together; to fall foul of one another; to
CON-_cur,_ to CON-_dog_."
Mr. Todd, in his Dictionary, has laboured to show the "inaccuracy of
this pretended narrative." Yet a similar blunder appears to have
happened to Ash. Johnson, while composing his Dictionary, sent a note to
the Gentleman's Magazine to inquire the etymology of the word
_curmudgeon_. Having obtained the information, he records in his work
the obligation to an anonymous letter-writer. "Curmudgeon, a vicious way
of pronouncing _coeur méchant_. An unknown correspondent." Ash copied
the word into his dictionary in this manner: "Curmudgeon: from the
French _coeur_ unknown; and _méchant_, a correspondent." This singular
negligence ought to be placed in the class of our _literary blunders_;
these form a pair of lexicographical anecdotes.
Two singular literary follies have been practised on Milton. There is a
_prose version_ of his "Paradise Lost," which was innocently
_translated_ from the French version of his epic! One Green published a
specimen of a _new version_ of the "Paradise Lost" into _blank verse_!
For this purpose he has utterly ruined the harmony of Milton's cadences,
by what he conceived to be "bringing that amazing work somewhat _nearer
the summit of perfection_."
A French author, when his book had been received by the French Academy,
had the portrait of Cardinal Richelieu engraved on his title-page,
encircled by a crown of _forty rays_, in each of which was written the
name of the celebrated _forty academicians_.
The self-exaltation frequently employed by injudicious writers,
sometimes places them in ridiculous attitudes. A writer of a bad
dictionary, which he intended for a Cyclopaedia, formed such an opinion
of its extensive sale, that he put on the title-page the words "_first
edition_," a hint to the gentle reader that it would not be the last.
Desmarest was so delighted with his "Clovis," an epic poem, that he
solemnly concludes his preface with a thanksgiving to God, to whom he
attributes all its glory! This is like that conceited member of a French
Parliament, who was overheard, after his tedious harangue, muttering
most devoutly to himself, "_Non nobis Domine_."
Several works have been produced from some odd coincidence with the
_name of their authors_. Thus, De Saussay has written a folio volume,
consisting of panegyrics of persons of eminence whose Christian names
were _Andrew_; because _Andrew_ was his own name. Two Jesuits made a
similar collection of illustrious men whose Christian names were
_Theophilus_ and _Philip_, being their own. _Anthony Saunderus_ has also
composed a treatise of illustrious _Anthonies_! And we have one
_Buchanan_, who has written the lives of those persons who were so
fortunate as to have been his namesakes.
Several forgotten writers have frequently been intruded on the public
eye, merely through such trifling coincidences as being members of some
particular society, or natives of some particular country. Cordeliers
have stood forward to revive the writings of Duns Scotus, because he had
been a cordelier; and a Jesuit compiled a folio on the antiquities of a
province, merely from the circumstance that the founder of his order,
Ignatius Loyola, had been born there. Several of the classics are
violently extolled above others, merely from the accidental circumstance
of their editors having collected a vast number of notes, which they
resolved to discharge on the public. County histories have been
frequently compiled, and provincial writers have received a temporary
existence, from the accident of some obscure individual being an
inhabitant of some obscure town.
On such literary follies Malebranche has made this refined observation.
The _critics_, standing in some way connected with _the author_, their
_self-love_ inspires them, and abundantly furnishes eulogiums which the
author never merited, that they may thus obliquely reflect some praise
on themselves. This is made so adroitly, so delicately, and so
concealed, that it is not perceived.
The following are strange inventions, originating in the wilful bad
taste of the authors. OTTO VENIUS, the master of Rubens, is the designer
of _Le Théâtre moral de la Vie humaine_. In this emblematical history of
human life, he has taken his subjects from Horace; but certainly his
conceptions are not Horatian. He takes every image in a _literal_
sense. If Horace says, "_Misce stultitiam_ CONSILIIS BREVEM," behold,
Venius takes _brevis_ personally, and represents Folly as a _little
short child_! of not above three or four years old! In the emblem which
answers Horace's "_Raro antecedentem scelestum deseruit_ PEDE POENA
CLAUDO," we find Punishment with _a wooden leg_.--And for "PULVIS ET
UMBRA SUMUS," we have a dark burying vault, with _dust_ sprinkled about
the floor, and a _shadow_ walking upright between two ranges of urns.
For "_Virtus est vitium fugere, et sapientia prima stultitiâ caruisse_,"
most flatly he gives seven or eight Vices pursuing Virtue, and Folly
just at the heels of Wisdom. I saw in an English Bible printed in
Holland an instance of the same taste: the artist, to illustrate "Thou
seest the _mote_ in thy neighbour's eye, but not the _beam_ in thine
own," has actually placed an immense beam which projects from the eye of
the cavalier to the ground![87]
As a contrast to the too obvious taste of VENIUS, may be placed CESARE
DI RIPA, who is the author of an Italian work, translated into most
European languages, the _Iconologia_; the favourite book of the age, and
the fertile parent of the most absurd offspring which Taste has known.
Ripa is as darkly subtle as Venius is obvious; and as far-fetched in his
conceits as the other is literal. Ripa represents Beauty by a naked
lady, with her head in a cloud; because the true idea of beauty is hard
to be conceived! Flattery, by a lady with a flute in her hand, and a
stag at her feet; because stags are said to love music so much, that
they suffer themselves to be taken, if you play to them on a flute.
Fraud, with two hearts in one hand, and a mask in the other;--his
collection is too numerous to point out more instances. Ripa also
describes how the allegorical figures are to be coloured; Hope is to
have a sky-blue robe, because she always looks towards heaven. Enough of
these _capriccios_!