money, and promises to become one of the chief attractions of Boston and
a source of honest pride to all cultivated Americans? The organ, as its
name implies, is _the instrument_, in distinction from all other and
less noble instruments. We might almost think it was called
organ as being a part of an unfinished _organism_, a kind of
Frankenstein-creation, half framed and half vitalized. It breathes like
an animal, but its huge lungs must be filled and emptied by alien force.
It has a wilderness of windpipes, each furnished with its own vocal
adjustment, or larynx. Thousands of long, delicate tendons govern its
varied internal movements, themselves obedient to the human muscles
which are commanded by the human brain, which again is guided in its
volitions by the voice of the great half-living creature. A strange
cross between the form and functions of animated beings, on the one
hand, and the passive conditions of inert machinery, on the other! Its
utterance rises through all the gamut of Nature's multitudinous voices,
and has a note for all her outward sounds and inward moods. Its thunder
is deep as that of billows that tumble through ocean-caverns, and its
whistle is sharper than that of the wind through their narrowest
crevice. It roars louder than the lion of the desert, and it can draw
out a thread of sound as fine as the locust spins at hot noon on his
still tree-top. Its clustering columns are as a forest in which every
music-flowering tree and shrub finds its representative. It imitates all
instruments; it cheats the listener with the sound of singing choirs; it
strives for a still purer note than can be strained from human throats,
and emulates the host of heaven with its unearthly "voice of angels."
Within its breast all the passions of humanity seem to reign in turn. It
moans with the dull ache of grief, and cries with the sudden thrill of
pain; it sighs, it shouts, it laughs, it exults, it wails, it pleads, it
trembles, it shudders, it threatens, it storms, it rages, it is soothed,
it slumbers.
Such is the organ, man's nearest approach to the creation of a true
organism.
But before the audacious conception of this instrument ever entered the
imagination of man, before he had ever drawn a musical sound from pipe
or string, the chambers where the royal harmonies of his grandest vocal
mechanism were to find worthy reception were shaped in his own
marvellous structure. The _organ_ of hearing was finished by its Divine
Builder while yet the morning stars sang together, and the voices of the
young creation joined in their first choral symphony. We have seen how
the mechanism of the artificial organ takes on the likeness of life; we
shall attempt to describe the living organ in common language by the aid
of such images as our ordinary dwellings furnish us. The unscientific
reader need not take notice of the words in parentheses.
The annexed diagram may render it easier to follow the description.
[Illustration]
The structure which is to admit Sound as a visitor is protected and
ornamented at its entrance by a light movable awning (the external ear).
Beneath and within this opens a recess or passage, (_meatus auditorium
externus_,) at the farther end of which is the parchment-like
front-door, D (_membrana tympani_).
Beyond this is the hall or entry, H, (cavity of the _tympanum_,) which
has a ventilator, V, (Eustachian tube,) communicating with the outer
air, and two windows, one oval, _o_, (_fenestra ovalis_,) one round,
_r_, (_fenestra rotunda_,) both filled with parchment-like membrane, and
looking upon the inner suite of apartments (labyrinth).
This inner suite of apartments consists of an antechamber, A,
(vestibule,) an arched chamber, B, (semicircular canals,) and a spiral
chamber, S, (_cochlea_,) with a partition, P, dividing it across, except
for a small opening at one end. The antechamber opens freely into the
arched chamber, and into one side of the partitioned spiral chamber. The
other side of this spiral chamber looks on the hall by the round window
already mentioned; the oval window looking on the hall belongs to the
antechamber. From the front-door to the oval window of the antechamber
extends a chain, _c_, (_ossicula auditûs_,) so connected that a knock on
the first is transmitted instantly to the second. But as the round
window of the spiral chamber looks into the hall, the knock at the
front-door will also make itself heard at and through that window, being
conveyed along the hall.
In each division of the inner suite of apartments are the watchmen,
(branches of the auditory nerve,) listening for the approach of Sound.
The visitor at length enters the porch, and knocks at the front-door.
The watchmen in the antechamber hear the blow close to them, as it is
repeated, through the chain, on the window of their apartment. The
impulse travels onward into the arched chamber, and startles its
tenants. It is transmitted into one half of the partitioned spiral
chamber, and rouses the recumbent guardians in that apartment. Some
portion of it even passes the small opening in the partition, and
reaches the watchmen in the other half of the room. But they also hear
it through the round window, not as it comes through the chain, but as
it resounds along the hall.
Thus the summons of Sound reaches all the watchmen, but not all of them
through the same channels or with the same force. It is not known how
their several precise duties are apportioned, but it seems probable that
the watchmen in the spiral chamber observe the pitch of the audible
impulse which reaches them, while the others take cognizance of its
intensity and perhaps of its direction.
Such is the plan of the organ of hearing as an architect might describe
it. But the details of its special furnishing are so intricate and
minute that no anatomist has proved equal to their entire and exhaustive
delineation. An Italian nobleman, the Marquis Corti, has hitherto proved
most successful in describing the wonderful _key-board_ found in the
spiral chamber, the complex and symmetrical beauty of which is
absolutely astonishing to those who study it by the aid of the
microscope. The figure annexed shows a small portion of this
extraordinary structure. It is from Kölliker's well-known work on
Microscopic Anatomy.
[Illustration]
Enough has been said to show that the ear is as carefully adjusted to
respond to the blended impressions of sound as the eye to receive the
mingled rays of light; and that as the telescope presupposes the lens
and the retina, so the organ presupposes the resonant membranes, the
labyrinthine chambers, and the delicately suspended or exquisitely
spread-out nervous filaments of that other organ, whose builder is the
Architect of the universe and the Master of all its harmonies.
Not less an object of wonder is that curious piece of mechanism, the
most perfect, within its limited range of powers, of all musical
instruments, the _organ_ of the human voice. It is the highest triumph
of our artificial contrivances to reach a tone like that of a singer,
and among a hundred organ-stops none excites such admiration as the _vox
humana_; a brief account of the vocal organ will not, therefore, be out
of place. The principles of the action of the larynx are easily
illustrated by reference to the simpler musical instruments. In a flute
or flageolet the musical sound is produced by the vibration of a column
of air contained in its interior. In a clarionet or a bassoon another
source of sound is added in the form of a thin slip of wood contained in
the mouth-piece, and called the _reed_, the vibrations of which give a
superadded nasal thrill to the resonance of the column of air.
The human organ of voice is like the clarionet and the bassoon. The
windpipe is the tube containing the column of air. The larynx is the
mouth-piece containing the reed. But the reed is double, consisting of
two very thin membranous edges, which are made tense or relaxed, and
have the interval between them through which the air rushes narrowed or
widened by the instinctive, automatic action of a set of little muscles.
The vibration of these membranous edges (_chordæ vocales_) produces a
musical sound, just as the vibration of the edge of a finger-bowl
produces one when a wet finger is passed round it. The cavities of the
nostrils, and their side-chambers, with their light, elastic
sounding-boards of thin bone, are essential to the richness of the tone,
as all singers find out when those passages are obstructed by a cold in
the head.
The human voice, perfect as it may be in tone, is yet always very
deficient in compass, as is obvious from the fact that the bass voice,
the barytone, the contralto, and the soprano have all different
registers, and are all required to produce a complete vocal harmony. If
we could make organ-pipes with movable, self-regulating lips, with
self-shortening and self-lengthening tubes, so that each tube should
command the two or three octaves of the human voice, a very limited
number of them would be required. But as each tube has but a single
note, we understand why we have those immense clusters of hollow
columns. As we wish to produce different effects, sometimes using the
pure flute-sounds, at other times preferring the nasal thrill of the
reed-instruments, we see why some of the tubes have simple mouths and
others are furnished with vibratory tongues. And, lastly, we can easily
understand that the great interior spaces of the organ must of
themselves furnish those resonant surfaces which we saw provided for, on
a small scale, in the nasal passages,--the sounding-board of the human
larynx.
* * * * *
The great organ of the Music Hall is a choir of nearly six thousand
vocal throats. Its largest windpipes are thirty-two feet in length, and
a man can crawl through them. Its finest tubes are too small for a
baby's whistle. Eighty-nine _stops_ produce the various changes and
combinations of which its immense orchestra is capable, from the purest
solo of a singing nun to the loudest chorus in which all its groups of
voices have their part in the full flow of its harmonies. Like all
instruments of its class, it contains several distinct systems of pipes,
commonly spoken of as separate organs, and capable of being played alone
or in connection with each other. Four _manuals_, or hand key-boards,
and two _pedals_, or foot key-boards, command these several
systems,--the _solo_ organ, the _choir_ organ, the _swell_ organ, and
the _great_ organ, and the _piano_ and _forte_ pedal-organ. Twelve pairs
of bellows, which it is intended to move by water-power, derived from
the Cochituate reservoirs, furnish the breath which pours itself forth
in music. Those beautiful effects, for which the organ is incomparable,
the _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_,--the gradual rise of the sound from
the lowest murmur to the loudest blast, and the dying fall by which it
steals gently back into silence,--the _dissolving views_, so to speak,
of harmony,--are not only provided for in the swell-organ, but may be
obtained by special adjustments from the several systems of pipes and
from the entire instrument.
It would be anticipating the proper time for judgment, if we should
speak of the excellence of the musical qualities of the great organ
before having had the opportunity of hearing its full powers displayed.
We have enjoyed the privilege, granted to few as yet, of listening to
some portions of the partially mounted instrument, from which we can
confidently infer that its effect, when all its majestic voices find
utterance, must be noble and enchanting beyond all common terms of
praise. But even without such imperfect trial, we have a right, merely
from a knowledge of its principles of construction, of the preëminent
skill of its builder, of the time spent in its construction, of the
extraordinary means taken to insure its perfection, and of the liberal
scale of expenditure which has rendered all the rest possible, to feel
sure that we are to hear the instrument which is and will probably long
remain beyond dispute the first of the New World and second to none in
the Old in the sum of its excellences and capacities.
The mere comparison of numbers of pipes and of stops, or of external
dimensions, though it gives an approximative idea of the scale of an
organ, is not so decisive as it might seem as to its real musical
effectiveness. In some cases, many of the stops are rather nominal than
of any real significance. Even in the Haarlem organ, which has only
about two-thirds as many as the Boston one, Dr. Burney says, "The
variety they afford is by no means what might be expected." It is
obviously easy to multiply the small pipes to almost any extent. The
dimensions of an organ, in its external aspect, must depend a good deal
on the height of the edifice in which it is contained. Thus, the vaulted
roof of the Cathedral of Ulm permitted the builder of our Music-Hall
organ to pile the _façade_ of the one he constructed for that edifice up
to the giddy elevation of almost a hundred feet, while the famous
instrument in the Town Hall of Birmingham has only three-quarters of the
height of our own, which is sixty feet. It is obvious also that the
effective power of an organ does not depend merely on its size, but that
the perfection of all its parts will have quite as much to do with it.
In judging a vocalist, we can form but a very poor guess of the compass,
force, quality of the voice, from a mere inspection of the throat and
chest. In the case of the organ, however, we have the advantage of being
able to minutely inspect every throat and larynx, to walk into the
interior of the working mechanism, and to see the adaptation of each
part to its office. In absolute power and compass the Music-Hall organ
ranks among the three or four mightiest instruments ever built. In the
perfection of all its parts, and in its whole arrangements, it
challenges comparison with, any the world can show.
Such an instrument ought to enshrine itself in an outward frame that
should correspond in some measure to the grandeur and loveliness of its
own musical character. It has been a dream of metaphysicians, that the
soul shaped its own body. If this many-throated singing creature could
have sung itself into an external form, it could hardly have moulded one
more expressive of its own nature. We must leave to those more skilled
in architecture the detailed description of that noble _façade_ which
fills the eye with music as the voices from behind it fill the mind
through the ear with vague, dreamy pictures. For us it loses all
technical character in its relations to the soul of which it is the
body. It is as if a glorious anthem had passed into outward solid form
in the very ecstasy of its grandest chorus. Milton has told us of such a
miracle, wrought by fallen angels, it is true, but in a description rich
with all his opulence of caressing and ennobling language:--
"Anon out of the earth a fabric huge
Rose, like an exhalation, with the sound
Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet,
Built like a temple, where pilasters round
Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid
With golden architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or frieze with bossy sculptures grav'n."
The structure is of black walnut, and is covered with carved statues,
busts, masks, and figures in the boldest relief. In the centre a richly
ornamented arch contains the niche for the key-boards and stops. A
colossal mask of a singing woman looks from over its summit. The
pediment above is surmounted by the bust of Johann Sebastian Bach.
Behind this rises the lofty central division, containing pipes, and
crowning it is a beautiful sitting statue of Saint Cecilia, holding her
lyre. On each side of her a griffin sits as guardian. This centre is
connected by harp-shaped compartments, filled with pipes, to the two
great round towers, one on each side, and each of them containing three
colossal pipes. These magnificent towers come boldly forward into the
hall, being the most prominent, as they are the highest and stateliest,
part of the _façade_. At the base of each a gigantic half-caryatid, in
the style of the ancient _hermæ_, but finished to the waist, bends
beneath the superincumbent weight, like Atlas under the globe. These
figures are of wonderful force, the muscular development almost
excessive, but in keeping with their superhuman task. At each side of
the base two lion-_hermæ_ share in the task of the giant. Over the base
rise the round pillars which support the dome and inclose the three
great pipes already mentioned. Graceful as these look in their position,
half a dozen men might creep into one of them and lie hidden. A man of
six feet high went up a ladder, and standing at the base of one of them
could just reach to put his hand into the mouth at its lower part, above
the conical foot. The three great pipes are crowned by a heavily
sculptured, ribbed, rounded dome; and this is surmounted, on each side,
by two cherubs, whose heads almost touch the lofty ceiling. This whole
portion of the sculpture is of eminent beauty. The two exquisite cherubs
of one side are playing on the lyre and the lute; those of the other
side on the flute and the horn. All the reliefs that run round the lower
portion of the dome are of singular richness. We have had an opportunity
of seeing one of the artist's photographs, which showed in detail the
full-length figures and the large central mask of this portion of the
work, and found them as beautiful on close inspection as the originals
at a distance.
Two other lateral compartments, filled with pipes, and still more
suggestive of the harp in their form, lead to the square lateral towers.
Over these compartments, close to the round tower, sits on each side a
harper, a man on the right, a woman on the left, with their harps, all
apparently of natural size. The square towers, holding pipes in their
open interior, are lower than the round towers, and fall somewhat back
from the front. Below, three colossal _hermæ_ of Sibyl-like women
perform for them the office which the giants and the lion-shapes perform
for the round towers. The four pillars which rise from the base are
square, and the dome which surmounts them is square also. Above the dome
is a vase-like support, upon which are disposed figures of the lyre and
other musical symbols.
The whole base of the instrument, in the intervals of the figures
described, is covered with elaborate carvings. Groups of musical
instruments, standing out almost detached from the background, occupy
the panels. Ancient and modern, clustered with careless grace and quaint
variety, from the violin down to a string of sleigh-bells, they call up
all the echoes of forgotten music, such as the thousand-tongued organ
blends together in one grand harmony.
The instrument is placed upon a low platform, the outlines of which are
in accordance with its own. Its whole height is about sixty feet, its
breadth forty-eight feet, and its average depth twenty-four feet. Some
idea of its magnitude may be got from the fact that the wind-machinery
and the swell-organ alone fill up the whole recess occupied by the
former organ, which was not a small one. All the other portions of the
great instrument come forward into the hall.
In front of its centre stands Crawford's noble bronze statue of
Beethoven, the gift of our townsman, Mr. Charles C. Perkins. It might be
suggested that so fine a work of Art should have a platform wholly to
itself; but the eye soon reconciles itself to the position of the
statue, and the tremulous atmosphere which surrounds the vibrating organ
is that which the almost breathing figure would seem to delight in, as
our imagination invests it with momentary consciousness.
As we return to the impression produced by the grand _façade_, we are
more and more struck with the subtile art displayed in its adaptations
and symbolisms. Never did any structure we have looked upon so fully
justify Madame de Staël's definition of architecture, as "frozen music."
The outermost towers, their pillars and domes, are all _square_, their
outlines thus passing without too sudden transitions from the sharp
square angles of the vaulted ceiling and the rectangular lines of the
walls of the hall itself into the more central parts of the instrument,
where a smoother harmony of outline is predominant. For in the great
towers, which step forward, as it were, to represent the meaning of the
entire structure, the lines are all curved, as if the slight discords
which gave sharpness and variety to its less vital portions were all
resolved as we approached its throbbing heart. And again, the half
fantastic repetitions of musical forms in the principal outlines--the
lyre-like shape of the bases of the great towers, the harp-like figure
of the connecting wings, the clustering reeds of the columns--fill the
mind with musical suggestions, and dispose the wondering spectator to
become the entranced listener.
The great organ would be but half known, if it were not played in a
place fitted for it in dimensions. In the open air the sound would be
diluted and lost; in an ordinary hall the atmosphere would be churned
into a mere tumult by the vibrations. The Boston Music Hall is of ample
size to give play to the waves of sound, yet not so large that its space
will not be filled and saturated with the overflowing resonance. It is
one hundred and thirty feet in length by seventy-eight in breadth and
sixty-five in height, being thus of somewhat greater dimensions than the
celebrated Town Hall of Birmingham. At the time of building it, (1852,)
its great height was ordered partly with reference to the future
possibility of its being furnished with a large organ. It will be
observed that the three dimensions above given are all multiples of the
same number, thirteen, the length being ten times, the breadth six times
and the height five times this number. This is in accordance with Mr.
Scott Russell's recommendation, and has been explained by the fact that
vibrating solids divide into _harmonic lengths_, separated by _nodal
points_ of rest, and that these last are equally distributed at aliquot
parts of its whole length. If the whole extent of the walls be in
vibration, its angles should come in at the nodal points in order to
avoid the confusion arising from different vibrating lengths; and for
this reason they are placed at aliquot parts of its entire length. Thus
the hall is itself a kind of passive musical instrument, or at least a
sounding-board, constructed on theoretical principles. Whatever is
thought of the theory, it proves in practice to possess the excellence
which is liable to be lost in the construction of the best-designed
edifice.
* * * * *
We have thus attempted to give our readers some imperfect idea of the
great instrument, illustrating it by the objects of comparison with
which we are most familiar, and leaving to others the more elaborate
work of subjecting it to a thorough artistic survey, and the rigorous
analysis necessary to bring out the various degrees of excellence in its
special qualities, which, as in a human character, will be found to mark
its individuality. We shall proceed to give some account of the manner
in which the plan of obtaining the best instrument the Old World could
furnish to the New was formed, matured, and carried into successful
execution.
It is mainly to the persistent labors of a single individual that our
community is indebted for the privilege it now enjoys in possessing an
instrument of the supreme order, such as make cities illustrious by
their presence. That which is on the lips of all it can wrong no
personal susceptibilities to tell in print; and when we say that Boston
owes the Great Organ chiefly to the personal efforts of the present
President of the Music-Hall Association, Dr. J. Baxter Upham, the
statement is only for the information of distant readers.
Dr. Upham is widely known to the medical profession in connection with
important contributions to practical science. His researches on typhus
fever, as observed by him at different periods, during and since the
years 1847 and 1848, in this country, and as seen at Dublin and in the
London Fever Hospital, were recognized as valuable contributions to the
art of medicine. More recently, as surgeon in charge of the Stanley
General Hospital, Eighteenth Army Corps, he has published an account of
the "Congestive Fever" prevailing at Newborn, North Carolina, during the
winter and spring of 1862-63. We must add to these practical labors the
record of his most ingenious and original investigations of the
circulation in the singular case of M. Groux, which had puzzled so many
European experts, and to which, with the tact of a musician, he applied
the electro-magnetic telegraphic apparatus so as to change the rapid
consecutive motions of different parts of the heart, which puzzled the
eye, into successive _sounds_ of a character which the ear could
recognize in their order. It was during these experiments, many of which
we had the pleasure of witnessing, that the "side-show" was exhibited of
counting the patient's pulse, through the wires, at the Observatory in
Cambridge, while it was beating in Dr. Upham's parlor in Boston. Nor
should we forget that other ingenious contrivance of his, the system of
_sound-signals_, devised during his recent term of service as surgeon,
and applied with the most promising results, as a means of
intercommunication between different portions of the same armament.
In the summer of 1853, less than a year after the Music Hall was opened
to the public, Dr. Upham, who had been for some time occupied with the
idea of procuring an organ worthy of the edifice, made a tour in Europe
with the express object of seeing some of the most famous instruments of
the Continent and of Great Britain. He examined many, especially in
Germany, and visited some of the great organ-builders, going so far as
to obtain specifications from Mr. Walcker of Ludwigsburg, and from
Weigl, his pupil at Stuttgart. On returning to this country, he brought
the proposition of procuring a great instrument in Europe in various
ways before the public, among the rest by his "Reminiscences of a Summer
Tour," published in "Dwight's Journal of Music." After this he laid the
matter before the members of the Harvard Musical Association, and,
having thus gradually prepared the way, presented it for consideration
before the Board of Directors of the Music-Hall Association. A committee
was appointed "to consider." There was some division of opinion as to
the expediency of the more ambitious plan of sending abroad for a
colossal instrument. There was a majority report in its favor, and a
verbal minority report advocating a more modest instrument of home
manufacture. Then followed the anaconda-torpor which marks the process
of digestion of a huge and as yet crude project by a multivertebrate
corporation.
On the first of March, 1856, the day of the inauguration of Beethoven's
statue, a subscription-paper was started, headed by Dr. Upham, for
raising the sum of ten thousand dollars. At a meeting in June the plan
was brought before the stockholders of the Music Hall, who unanimously
voted to appropriate ten thousand dollars and the proceeds of the old
organ, on condition that fifteen thousand dollars should be raised by
private subscription. In October it was reported to the Directors that
ten thousand dollars of this sum were already subscribed, and Dr. Upham,
President of the Board, pledged himself to raise the remainder on
certain conditions, which were accepted. He was then authorized to go
abroad to investigate the whole subject, with full powers to select the
builder and to make the necessary contracts.
Dr. Upham had already made an examination of the best organs and
organ-factories in New England, New York, and elsewhere in this country,
and received several specifications and plans from builders. He
proceeded at once, therefore, to Europe, examined the great English
instruments, made the acquaintance of Mr. Hopkins, the well-known
organist and recognized authority on all matters pertaining to the
instrument, and took lessons of him in order to know better the handling
of the keys and the resources of the instrument. In his company, Dr.
Upham examined some of the best instruments in London. He made many
excursions among the old churches of Sir Christopher Wren's building,
where are to be found the fine organs of "Father Smith," John Snetzler,
and other famous builders of the past. He visited the workshops of Hill,
Gray and Davidson, Willis, Robson, and others. He made a visit to Oxford
to examine the beautiful organ in Trinity College. He found his way into
the organ-lofts of St. Paul's, of Westminster Abbey, and the Temple
Church, during the playing at morning and evening service. He inspected
Thompson's _enharmonic_ organ, and obtained models of various portions
of organ-structure.
From London Dr. Upham went to Holland, where he visited the famous
instruments at Haarlem, Amsterdam, and Rotterdam, and the organ-factory
at Utrecht, the largest and best in Holland. Thence to Cologne, where,
as well as at Utrecht, he obtained plans and schemes of instruments; to
Hamburg, where are fine old organs, some of them built two or three
centuries ago; to Lubeck, Dresden, Breslau, Leipsic, Halle, Merseburg.
Here he found a splendid organ, built by Ladergast, whose instruments
excel especially in their tone-effects. A letter from Liszt, the
renowned pianist, recommended this builder particularly to Dr. Upham's
choice. At Frankfort and at Stuttgart he found two magnificent
instruments, built by Walcker of Ludwigsburg, to which place he repaired
in order to examine his factories carefully, for the second time. Thence
the musical tourist proceeded to Ulm, where is the sumptuous organ, the
work of the same builder, ranking, we believe, first in point of
dimensions of all in the world. Onward still, to Munich, Bamberg,
Augsburg, Nuremberg, along the Lake of Constance to Weingarten, where is
that great organ claiming to have sixty-six stops and six thousand six
hundred and sixty-six pipes; to Freyburg, in Switzerland, where is
another great organ, noted for the rare beauty of its _vox-humana_ stop,
the mechanism of which had been specially studied by Mr. Walcker, who
explained it to Dr. Upham.
Returning to Ludwigsburg, Dr. Upham received another specification from
Mr. Walcker. He then passed some time at Frankfort examining the
specifications already received and the additional ones which came to
him while there.
At last, by the process of exclusion, the choice was narrowed down to
three names, Schultze, Ladergast, and Walcker, then to the two last.
There was still a difficulty in deciding between these. Dr. Upham called
in Mr. Walcker's partner and son, who explained every point on which he
questioned them with the utmost minuteness. Still undecided, he
revisited Merseburg and Weissenfels, to give Ladergast's instruments
another trial. The result was that he asked Mr. Walcker for a third
specification, with certain additions and alterations which he named.
This he received, and finally decided in his favor,--but with the
condition that Mr. Walcker should meet him in Paris for the purpose of
examining the French organs with reference to any excellences of which
he might avail himself, and afterwards proceed to London and inspect the
English instruments with the same object.
The details of this joint tour are very interesting, but we have not
space for them. The frank enthusiasm with which the great German
organ-builder was received in France contrasted forcibly with the
quiet, not to say cool, way in which the insular craftsmen received him,
gradually, however, warming, and at last, with a certain degree of
effort, admitting him to their confidence.
A fortnight was spent by Dr. Upham in company with Walcker and Mr.
Hopkins in studying and perfecting the specification, which was at last
signed in German and English, and stamped with the notarial seal, and
thus the contract made binding.
A long correspondence relating to the instrument followed between Dr.
Upham, the builder, and Mr. Hopkins, ending only with the shipment of
the instrument. A most interesting part of this was Dr. Upham's account
of his numerous original experiments with the natural larynx, made with
reference to determining the conditions requisite for the successful
imitation of the human voice in the arrangement called _vox humana_. Mr.
Walcker has availed himself of the results of these experiments in the
stop as made for this organ, but with what success we are unable to say,
as the pipes have not been set in place at the time of our writing. As
there is always great curiosity to hear this particular stop, we will
guard our readers against disappointment by quoting a few remarks about
that of the Haarlem organ, made by the liveliest of musical writers, Dr.
Burney.
"As to the _vox humana_, which is so celebrated, it does not at all
resemble a human voice, though a very good stop of the kind; but the
world is very apt to be imposed upon by names; the instant a common
hearer is told that an organist is playing upon a stop which resembles
the human voice, he supposes it to be very fine, and never inquires into
the propriety of the name, or exactness of the imitation. However, with
respect to our own feelings, we must confess, that, of all the stops
which we have yet heard, that have been honored with the appellation of
_vox humana_, no one in the treble part has ever reminded us of anything
human, so much as the cracked voice of an old woman of ninety, or, in
the lower parts, of Punch singing through a comb." Let us hope that this
most irreverent description will not apply to the _vox humana_ of our
instrument, after all the science and skill that have been expended upon
it. Should it prove a success like that of the Freyburg organ, there
will be pilgrimages from the shores of the Pacific and the other side of
the Atlantic to listen to the organ that can _sing_: and what can be a
more miraculous triumph of art than to cheat the ear with such an
enchanting delusion?
Before the organ could be accepted, it was required by the terms of the
contract to be set up at the factory, and tested by three persons: one
to be selected by the Organ Committee of the Music-Hall Association, one
by the builder, and a third to be chosen by them. Having been approved
by these judges, and also by the State-Commissioner of Würtemberg,
according to the State ordinance, the result of the trial was
transmitted to the President and Directors of the Music-Hall
Association, and the organ was accepted.
The war broke out in the mean time, and there were fears lest the vessel
in which the instrument might be shipped should fall a victim to some of
the British corsairs sailing under Confederate colors. But the Dutch
brig "Presto," though slow, was safe from the licensed pirates, unless
an organ could be shown to be contraband of war. She was out so long,
however,--nearly three months from Rotterdam,--that the insurance-office
presidents shook their heads over her, fearing that she had gone down
with all her precious freight.
"At length," to borrow Dr. Upham's words, "one stormy Sunday in March
she was telegraphed from the marine station down in the bay, and the
next morning, among the marine intelligence, in the smallest possible
type, might be read the invoice of her cargo thus:--
"'Sunday Mar. 22
"'Arr. Dutch brig Presto, Van Wyngarten, Rotterdam, Jan. 1.
Helvoet, 10th Had terrific gales from SW the greater part of the
passage. 40 casks gin JD & M Williams 8 sheep Chenery & Co 200
bags coffee 2 casks herrings 1 case cheese W. Winsel 1 organ JB
Upham 20 pipes 6 casks gin JD Richards 6 casks nutmegs J Schumaker
20 do gin 500 bags chickory root Order,' etc., etc.
"And this was the heralding of this greatest marvel of a high and noble
art, after the labor of seven years bestowed upon it, having been tried
and pronounced complete by the most fastidious and competent of critics,
the wonder and admiration of music-loving Germany, the pride of
Würtemberg, bringing a new phase of civilization to our shores in the
darkest hour of our country's trouble."
It remains to give a brief history of the construction of the grand and
imposing architectural frame which we have already attempted to
describe. Many organ-fronts were examined with reference to their
effects, during Dr. Upham's visits of which we have traced the course,
and photographs and sketches obtained for the same purpose. On
returning, the task of procuring a fitting plan was immediately
undertaken. We need not detail the long series of trials which were
necessary before the requirements of the President and Directors of the
Music-Hall Association were fully satisfied. As the result of these, it
was decided that the work should be committed to the brothers Herter, of
New York, European artists, educated at the Royal Academy of Art in
Stuttgart. The general outline of the _façade_ followed a design made by
Mr. Hammatt Billings, to whom also are due the drawings from which the
Saint Cecilia and the two groups of cherubs upon the round towers were
modelled. These figures were executed at Stuttgart; the other carvings
were all done in New York, under Mr. Herter's direction, by Italian and
German artists, one of whom had trained his powers particularly to the
shaping of colossal figures. In the course of the work, one of the
brothers Herter visited Ludwigsburg for the special purpose of comparing
his plans with the structure to which they were to be adapted, and was
received with enthusiasm, the design for the front being greatly
admired.
The contract was made with Mr. Herter in April, 1860, and the work,
having been accepted, was sent to Boston during the last winter, and
safely stored in the lecture-room beneath the Music Hall. In March the
_Great Work_ arrived from Germany, and was stored in the hall above.
"The seven-years' task is done,--the danger from flood and fire so far
escaped,--the gantlet of the pirates safely run,--the perils of the sea
and the rail surmounted by _the good Providence of God_."
The devout gratitude of the President of the Association, under whose
auspices this great undertaking has been successfully carried through,
will be shared by all lovers of Art and all the friends of American
civilization and culture. We cannot naturalize the Old-World cathedrals,
for they were the architectural embodiment of a form of worship
belonging to other ages and differently educated races. But the organ
was only lent to human priesthoods for their masses and requiems; it
belongs to Art, a religion of which God himself appoints the
high-priests. At first it appears almost a violence to transplant it
from those awful sanctuaries, out of whose arches its forms seemed to
grow, and whose echoes seemed to hold converse with it, into our gay and
gilded halls, to utter its majestic voice before the promiscuous
multitude. Our hasty impression is a wrong one. We have undertaken, for
the first time in the world's history, to educate a nation. To teach a
people to know the Creator in His glorious manifestations through the
wondrous living organs is a task for which no implement of human
fabrication is too sacred; for all true culture is a form of worship,
and to every rightly ordered mind a setting forth of the Divine glory.
This consummate work of science and skill reaches us in the midst of the
discordant sounds of war, the prelude of that blessed harmony which will
come whenever the jarring organ of the State has learned once more to
obey its keys.
God grant that the _Miserere_ of a people in its anguish may soon be
followed by the _Te Deum_ of a redeemed Nation!
* * * * *
THE KING'S WINE.
The small green grapes in countless clusters grew,
Feeding on mystic moonlight and white dew
And mellow sunshine, the long summer through:
Till, with blind motion in her veins, the Vine
Felt the delicious pulses of the wine,
And the grapes ripened in the year's decline.
And day by day the Virgins watched their charge;
And when, at last, beyond the horizon's marge
The harvest-moon dropt beautiful and large,
The subtile spirit in the grape was caught,
And to the slowly dying Monarch brought
In a great cup fantastically wrought,
Whereof he drank; then straightway from his brain
Went the weird malady, and once again
He walked the Palace free of scar or pain,--
But strangely changed, for somehow he had lost
Body and voice: the courtiers, as he crost
The royal chambers, whispered,--"_The King's Ghost_!"
* * * * *
MONOGRAPH FROM AN OLD NOTE-BOOK; WITH A POSTSCRIPT.
"ERIPUIT COELO FULMEN, SCEPTRUMQUE TYRANNIS."
In a famous speech, made in the House of Lords, March 16, 1838, against
the Eastern slave-trade, Lord Brougham arrests the current of his
eloquence by the following illustrative diversion:--
"I have often heard it disputed among critics, which of all quotations
was the most appropriate, the most closely applicable to the
subject-matter illustrated; _and the palm in generally awarded to that
which applied to Dr. Franklin the line in Claudian_,--
'Eripuit fulmen coelo, mox sceptra tyrannis';
yet still there is a difference of opinion, and even that citation,
admirably close as it is, has rivals."
The British orator errs in attributing this remarkable verse to
Claudian; and he errs also in the language of the verse itself, which he
fails to quote with entire accuracy. And this double mistake becomes
more noticeable, when it appears not merely in the contemporary report,
but in the carefully prepared collection of speeches, revised at
leisure, and preserved in permanent volumes.[6]
The beauty of this verse, even in its least accurate form, will not be
questioned, especially as applied to Franklin, who, before the American
Revolution, in which it was his fortune to perform so illustrious a
part, had already awakened the world's admiration by drawing the
lightning from the skies. But beyond its acknowledged beauty, this verse
has an historic interest which has never been adequately appreciated.
Appearing at the moment it did, it is closely associated with the
acknowledgment of American Independence. Plainly interpreted, it calls
George III. "tyrant," and announces that the sceptre has been snatched
from his hands. It was a happy ally to Franklin in France, and has ever
since been an inspiring voice. Latterly it has been adopted by the city
of Boston, and engraved on granite in letters of gold,--in honor of its
greatest child and citizen. It may not be entirely superfluous to
recount the history of a verse which has justly attracted so much
attention, and which, in the history of civilization, has been of more
value than the whole State of South Carolina.
From its first application to Franklin, this verse has excited something
more than curiosity. Lord Brougham tells us that it is often discussed
in private circles. There is other evidence of the interest it has
created. For instance, in an early number of "Notes and Queries"[7]
there is the following inquiry:--
"Can you tell me who wrote the line on Franklin, '_Eripuit_,'etc.?
"HENRY H. BREEN.
"_St. Lucia_."
A subsequent writer in this same work, after calling the verse "a
parody" of a certain line of antiquity, says,--"I am unable to say who
adapted these words to Franklin's career. Was it Condorcet?"[8] Another
writer in the same work says,--"The inscription was written by
Mirabeau."[9]
I remember well a social entertainment in Boston, where a most
distinguished scholar of our country, in reply to an inquiry made at the
table, said that the verse was founded on the following line from the
"Astronomicon"[10] of Manilius,--
"Eripuit Jovi fulmen, viresque tonandi."
John Quincy Adams, who was present, seemed to concur. Mr. Sparks, in his
notes to the correspondence of Franklin, attributes it to the same
origin.[11] But there are other places where its origin is traced with
more precision. One of the correspondents of "Notes and Queries" says
that he has read, but does not remember where, "that this line was
_immediately_ taken from one in the 'Anti-Lucretius' of Cardinal
Polignac."[12] Another correspondent shows the intermediate
authority.[13] My own notes were originally made without any knowledge
of these studies, which, while fixing its literary origin, fail to
exhibit the true character of the verse, both in its meaning and in the
time when it was uttered.
The verse cannot be found in any ancient writer,--not Claudian or
anybody else. It is clear that it does not come from antiquity, unless
indirectly; nor does it appear that at the time of its first production
it was in any way referred to any ancient writer. Manilius was not
mentioned. The verse is of modern invention, and was composed after the
arrival of Franklin in Paris on his eventful mission. At first it was
anonymous; but it was attributed sometimes to D'Alembert and sometimes
to Turgot. Beyond question, it was not the production of D'Alembert,
while it will be found in the Works of Turgot,[14] published after his
death, in the following form:--
"Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis."
There is no explanation by the editor of the circumstances under which
the verse was written; but it is given among poetical miscellanies of
the author, immediately after a translation into French of Pope's "Essay
on Man," and is entitled "Inscription for a Portrait of Benjamin
Franklin." It appears that Turgot also tried his hand in these French
verses, having the same idea:--
"Le voilà ce mortel dont l'heureuse industrie
Sut enchaîner la Foudre et lui donner des loix,
Dont la sagesse active et l'éloquente voix
D'un pouvoir oppresseur affranchit sa Patrie,
Qui désarma les Dieux, qui réprime les Rois."
The single Latin verse is a marvellous substitute for these diffuse and
feeble lines.
If there were any doubt upon its authorship, it would be removed by the
positive statement of Condorcet, who, in his Life of Turgot, written
shortly after the death of this great man, says, "There is known from
Turgot but one Latin verse, designed for a portrait of Franklin";[15]
and he gives the verse in this form:--
"Eripuit coelo fulmen, mox sceptra tyrannis."
But Sparks and Mignet, in their biographies,[16] and so also both the
biographical dictionaries of France,--that of Michaud and that of
Didot,--while ascribing the verse to Turgot, concur in the form already
quoted from Turgot's Works, which was likewise adopted by Ginguené, the
scholar who has done so much to illustrate Italian literature, on the
title-page of his "Science du Bon-Homme Richard," with an abridged Life
of Franklin, in 1794, and by Cabanis, who lived in such intimacy with
Franklin.[17] It cannot be doubted that it was the final form which this
verse assumed,--as it is unquestionably the best.
To appreciate the importance of this verse, as marking and helping a
great epoch, there are certain dates which must not be forgotten.
Franklin reached Paris on his mission towards the close of 1776. He had
already signed the Declaration of Independence, and his present duty was
to obtain the recognition of France for the new power. The very clever
Madame Du Deffant, in her amusing correspondence with Horace Walpole,
describes him in a visit to her "with his fur cap on his head and his
spectacles on his nose," in the same small circle with Madame de
Luxembourg, a great lady of the time, and the Duke de Choiseul, late
Prime-Minister. This was on the thirty-first of December, 1776.[18] A
pretty good beginning. More than a year of effort and anxiety ensued,
brightened at last by the news that Burgoyne had surrendered at
Saratoga. On the sixth of February, 1778, the work of the American
Plenipotentiary was crowned by the signature of the two Treaties of
Alliance and Commerce by which France acknowledged our Independence and
pledged her belligerent support. On the fifteenth of March, one of these
treaties, with a diplomatic note announcing that the Colonies were free
and independent States, was communicated to the British Government, at
London, which was promptly encountered by a declaration of war from
Great Britain. On the twenty-second of March, Franklin was received by
the King at Versailles, and this remarkable scene is described by the
same feminine pen to which we are indebted for the early glimpse of him
on his arrival in Paris.[19] But throughout this intervening period he
had not lived unknown. Indeed, he had become at once a celebrity.
Lacretelle, the eminent French historian, says, "By the effect which
Franklin produced, he appears to have fulfilled his mission, not with a
court, but with a free people. His virtues and renown negotiated for
him."[20]
Condorcet, who was a part of that intellectual society which welcomed
the new Plenipotentiary, has left a record of his reception. "The
celebrity of Franklin in the sciences," he says, "gave him the
friendship of all who love or cultivate them, that is, of all who exert
a real and durable influence upon public opinion. At his arrival he
became an object of veneration to all enlightened men, and of curiosity
to others. He submitted to this curiosity with the natural facility of
his character, and with the conviction that in this way he served the
cause of his country. It was an honor to have seen him. People repeated
what they had heard him say. Every _fête_ which he consented to receive,
every house where he consented to go, spread in society new admirers,
_who became so many partisans of the American Revolution_.... Men whom
the works of philosophy had disposed secretly to the love of liberty
were impassioned for that of a strange people. A general cry was soon
raised in favor of the American War, and the friends of peace dared not
even complain that peace was sacrificed to the cause of liberty."[21]
This is an animated picture by an eye-witness. But all authorities
concur in its truthfulness. Even Capefigue--whose business is to
belittle all that is truly great, and especially to efface those names
which are associated with human liberty, while, like another Old
Mortality, he furbishes the tombstones of royal mistresses--is yet
constrained to bear witness to the popularity and influence which
Franklin achieved. The critic dwells on what he styles his "Quaker
garb," "his linen so white under clothes so brown," and also the
elaborate art of the philosopher, who understood France and knew well
"that a popular man became soon more powerful than power itself"; but he
cannot deny that the philosopher "fulfilled his duties with great
superiority," or that he became at once famous.[22]
The arrival of Franklin was followed very soon by the departure of the
youthful Lafayette, who crossed the sea to offer his generous sword to
the service of American liberty. Our cause was now widely known. In the
thronged _cafés_ and the places of public resort it was discussed with
sympathy and admiration.[23] And so completely was Franklin recognized
as the representative of new ideas, that the Emperor Joseph II. of
Austria,--professed reformer as he was,--on one of his visits to France
under the travelling-name of Count Falkenstein, is reported to have
firmly avoided all temptation to see him, saying, "My business is to be
a Royalist,"--thus doing homage to the real character of Franklin, in
whom the Republic was personified.
Franklin was at once, by natural attraction, the welcome guest of that
brilliant company of philosophers who exercised such influence over the
eighteenth century. The "Encyclopédie" was their work, and they were
masters at the Academy. He was received into their guild. At the famous
table of the Baron D'Holbach, where twice a week, Sunday and Thursday,
at dinner, lasting from two till seven o'clock, the wits of that time
were gathered, he found a hospitable chair. But he was most at home with
Madame Helvétius, the widow of the rich and handsome philosopher, whose
name, derived from Holland, is now almost unknown. At her house he met
in social familiarity D'Alembert, Diderot, D'Holbach, Morellet, Cabanis,
and Condorcet, with their compeers. There, also, was Turgot, the
greatest of all. There was another person in some respects as famous as
any of these, but leading a very different life, whom Franklin saw
often,--I refer to Caron de Beaumarchais, the author already of the
"Barbier de Séville," as he was afterwards of the "Mariage de Figaro,"
who, turning aside from an unsurpassed success at the theatre, exerted
his peculiar genius to enlist the French Government on the side of the
struggling Colonies, predicted their triumph, and at last, under the
assumed name of a mercantile house, became the agent of the Comte de
Vergennes in furnishing clandestine supplies of arms even before the
recognition of Independence. It is supposed that through this popular
dramatist Franklin maintained communications with the French Government
until the mask was thrown aside.[24]
Beyond all doubt, Turgot is one of the most remarkable intelligences
which France has produced. He was by nature a philosopher and a
reformer, but he was also a statesman, who for a time held a seat in the
cabinet of Louis XVI., first as Minister of the Marine, and then as
Comptroller of the Finances. Perhaps no minister ever studied more
completely the good of the people. His administration was one constant
benefaction. But he was too good for the age in which he lived,--or
rather, the age was not good enough for him. The King was induced to
part with him, saying, when he yielded,--"You and I are the only two
persons who really love the people." This was some time in May, 1776; so
that Franklin, on his arrival, found this eminent Frenchman free from
all the constraints of a ministerial position. The character of Turgot
shows how naturally he sympathized with the Colonies struggling for
independence, especially when represented by a person like Franklin. In
a prize essay of his youth, written in 1750, when he was only
twenty-three years of age, he had foretold the American Revolution.
These are his remarkable words on that occasion:--
"Colonies are like fruits, which do not hold to the tree after their
maturity. Having become sufficient in themselves, they do that which
Carthage did, _that which America will one day do_."[25]
One of his last acts before leaving the Ministry was to prepare a memoir
on the American War, for the information of the Comte de Vergennes, in
which he says "that the idea of the absolute separation of the Colonies
and the mother-country seems infinitely probable; that, when the
independence of the Colonies shall be entire and acknowledged by the
English, there will be a total revolution in the political and
commercial relations of Europe and America; and that all the
mother-countries will be forced to abandon all empire over their
colonies, to leave them entire liberty of commerce with all nations, and
to be content in sharing with others this liberty, and in preserving
with their colonies the bonds of amity and fraternity."[26] This memoir
of the French statesman bears date the sixth of April, 1776, nearly
three months before the Declaration of Independence.
On leaving the Ministry, Turgot devoted himself to literature, science,
and charity, translating Odes of Horace and Eclogues of Virgil, studying
geometry with Bossut, chemistry with Lavoisier, and astronomy with
Rochon, and interesting himself in every thing by which human welfare
could be advanced. Such a character, with such an experience of
government, and the prophet of American independence, was naturally
prepared to welcome Franklin, not only as philosopher, but as statesman
also.
But the classical welcome of Turgot was partially anticipated,--at least
in an unsuccessful attempt. Baron Grimm, in that interesting and
instructive "Correspondance," prepared originally for the advantage of
distant courts, but now constituting one of the literary and social
monuments of the period, mentions, under date of October, 1777, that the
following French verses were made for a portrait of Franklin by Cochin,
engraved by St. Aubin:--
"C'est l'honneur et l'appui du nouvel hémisphère;
Les flots de l'Océan s'abaissent à sa voix;
Il réprime ou dirige à son gré le tonnerre;
Qui désarme les dieux, peut-il craindre les rois?"
These verses seem to contain the very idea in the verse of Turgot. But
they were suppressed at the time by the censor on the ground that they
were "blasphemous,"--although it is added in a note that "they concerned
only the King of England." Was it that the negotiations with Franklin
were not yet sufficiently advanced? And here mark the dates.
It was only after the communication to Great Britain of the Treaty of
Alliance and the reception of Franklin at Versailles, that the seal
seems to have been broken. Baron Grimm, in his "Correspondance,"[27]
under date of April, 1778, makes the following entry:--
"A very beautiful Latin verse has been made for the portrait of Dr.
Franklin,--
'Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis.'
It is a happy imitation of a verse of the 'Anti-Lucretius,'--
'Eripuitque Jovi fulmen, Phoeboque sagittas.'"
Here is the earliest notice of this verse, authenticating its origin.
Nothing further is said of the "Anti-Lucretius"; for in that day it was
familiar to every lettered person. But I shall speak of it before I
close.
Only a few days later the verse appears in the correspondence of Madame
D'Épinay, whose intimate relations with Baron Grimm--the subject of
curiosity and scandal--will explain her early knowledge of it. She
records it in a letter to the very remarkable Italian Abbé Galiani,
under date of May 3d, 1778.[28] And she proceeds to give a translation
in French verse, which she says "D'Alembert made the other day between
sleeping and waking." Galiani, who was himself a master of Latin
versification, and followed closely the fortunes of America, must have
enjoyed the tribute. In a letter written shortly afterwards, he enters
into all the grandeur of the occasion. "You have," says he, "at this
hour decided the greatest question of the globe,--that is, if it is
America which shall reign over Europe, or Europe which shall continue to
reign over America. I would wager in favor of America."[29] In these
words the Neapolitan said as much as Turgot.
A little later the verse appears in a different scene. It had reached
the _salons_ of Madame Doublet, whence it was transferred to the
"Mémoires Secrets de Bachaumont," under date of June 8th, 1778, as "a
very beautiful verse, proper to characterize M. Franklin and to serve as
an inscription for his portrait." These Memoirs, as is well known, are
the record of conversations and news gathered in the circle of that
venerable Egeria of gossip;[30] and here is evidence of the publicity
which this welcome had already obtained.
The verse was now fairly launched. War was flagrant between France and
Great Britain. There was no longer any reason why the new alliance
between France and the United States should not be placed under the
auspices of genius, and why the same hand which had snatched the
lightning from the skies should not have the fame of snatching the
sceptre from King George III. The time for free speech had come. It was
no longer "blasphemous."
But it will be observed that these records of this verse fail to mention
the immediate author. Was he unknown at the time? Or did the fact that
he was recently a cabinet-minister induce him to hide behind a mask?
Turgot was a master of epigram,--as witness the terrible lines on
Frederick of Prussia; but he was very prudent in conduct. "Nobody," said
Voltaire, "so skilful to launch the shaft without showing the hand." But
there is a letter from no less a person than D'Alembert, which reveals
something of the "filing" which this verse underwent, and something of
the persons consulted. Unhappily, the letter is without date; nor does
it appear to whom it was addressed, except that the "_cher confrère_"
seems to imply that it was to a brother of the Academy. This letter will
be found in a work which is now known to have been the compilation of
the Marquis Gaëtan de La Rochefoucauld,[31] entitled, "Mémoires de
Condorcet sur la Révolution Française, extraits de sa Correspondance et
de celle de ses Amis."[32] It is introduced by the following words from
the Marquis:--
"It is known how Franklin had been fêted when he came to Paris, because
he was the representative of a republic. The philosophers, especially,
received him with enthusiasm. It may be said, among other things, that
D'Alembert lost his sleep; and we are going to prove it by a letter
which he wrote, where he put himself to the torture in order to versify
in honor of Franklin."
The letter is then given as follows:--
"_Friday Morning_.
"MY DEAR COLLEAGUE,--You are acquainted with the Franklin verse,--
'Eripuit coelo fulmen, _mox sceptra_ tyrannis.'
You should surely cause it to be put in the Paris paper, if it is
not there already.
"I should agree with La Harpe that _sceptrumque_ is better: first,
because _mox sceptra_ is a little hard, and then because _mox_,
according to the dictionary of Gesner, who collects examples,
signifies equally _statim_ or _deinde_, which causes a double
meaning, _mox eripuit_ or _mox eripiet_.
"However, here is how I have attempted to translate this verse for
the portrait of Franklin:--
'Tu vois le sage courageux
Dont l'heureux et mâle génie
Arracha le tonnerre aux dieux
Et le sceptre à la tyrannie.'
If you find these verses sufficiently supportable, so that people
will not laugh at me, you can put them into the Paris paper, even
with my name. I shall honor myself in rendering this homage to
Franklin, but on condition that you find the verses _printable_.
As I make no pretension on account of them, I shall be perfectly
content, if you reject them as bad.
"The third verse can be put,--_A ravi le tonnerre aux cieux_, or
_aux dieux_."
From this letter it appears that the critical judgment of La Harpe,
confirmed by D'Alembert, sided for _sceptrumque_ as better than _mox
sceptra_.
But the verse of Turgot was not alone in its testimony. There was an
incident precisely contemporaneous, which shows how completely France
had fallen under the fascination of the American cause. Voltaire, the
acknowledged chief of French literature in the brilliant eighteenth
century, after many years of busy exile at Ferney, in the neighborhood
of Geneva, where he had wielded his far-reaching sceptre, was induced,
in his old age, to visit Paris once again before he died. He left his
Swiss retreat on the sixth of February, 1778, the very day on which
Franklin signed the Alliance with France, and after a journey which
resembled the progress of a sovereign, he reached Paris on the twelfth
of February. He was at once surrounded by the homage of all that was
most illustrious in literature and science, while the theatre, grateful
for his contributions to the drama, vied with the Academy. But there
were two characters on whom the patriarch, as he was fondly called,
lavished a homage of his own. He had already addressed to Turgot a most
remarkable epistle in verse, the mood of which may be seen in its title,
"Épitre à un Homme"; but on seeing the discarded statesman, who had
been so true to benevolent ideas, he came forward to meet him, saying,
with his whole soul, "Let me kiss the hand which signed the salvation of
the people." The scene with Franklin was more touching still. Voltaire
began in English, which he had spoken early in life, but, having lost
the habit, he soon charted to French, saying that he "could not resist
the desire of speaking for one moment the language of Franklin." The
latter had brought with him his grandson, for whom he asked a
benediction. "God and Liberty," said Voltaire, putting his hands upon
the head of the child; "this is the only benediction proper for the
grandson of Franklin." A few days afterward, at a public session of the
Academy, they were placed side by side, when, amidst the applause of the
enlightened company, the two old men rose and embraced. The political
triumphs of Franklin and the dramatic triumphs of Voltaire caused the
exclamation, that "Solon embraced Sophocles." But it was more than this.
It was France embracing America, beneath the benediction of "God and
Liberty." Only a few days later, Voltaire died. But the alliance with
France had received a new assurance, and the cause of American
Independence an unalterable impulse.
Turgot did not live to enjoy the final triumph of the cause to which he
had given such remarkable expression. He died March 30th, 1781, several
months before that "crowning mercy," the capture of Cornwallis, and
nearly two years before the Provisional Articles of Peace, by which the
Colonies were recognized as free and independent States. But his
attachment to Franklin was one of the enjoyments of his latter
years.[33] Besides the verse to which so much reference has been made,
there is an interesting incident which attests the communion of ideas
between them, if not the direct influence of Turgot. Captain Cook, the
eminent navigator, who "steered Britain's oak into a world unknown," was
in distant seas on a voyage of discovery. Such an enterprise naturally
interested Franklin, and, in the spirit of a refined humanity, he sought
to save it from the chances of war. Accordingly, he issued a passport,
addressed "To all captains and commanders of armed ships, acting by
commission from the Congress of the United States of America, now in war
with Great Britain," where, after setting forth the nature of the voyage
of the English navigator, he proceeded to say,--"This is most earnestly
to recommend to every one of you, that, in case the said ship, which is
now expected to be soon in the European seas on her return, should
happen to fall into your hands, you would not consider her as an enemy,
nor suffer any plunder to be made of the effects contained in her, nor
obstruct her immediate return to England; but that you would treat the
said Captain Cook and his people with all civility and kindness,
affording them, as common friends to mankind, all the assistance in your
power which they may happen to stand in need of."[34] This document
bears date March 10th, 1779. But Turgot had anticipated Franklin. At the
first outbreak of the war, he had submitted a memoir to the French
Government, on which it was ordered that Captain Cook should not be
treated as an enemy, but as a benefactor of all European nations.[35]
Here was a triumph of civilization, by which we have all been gainers;
for such an example is immortal in its influence.
There is yet another circumstance which should be mentioned, in order to
exhibit the identity of sympathies in these two eminent persons. Each
sought to marry Madame Helvétius: Turgot early in life, while she was
still Mademoiselle Ligniville, belonging to a family of twenty-one
children, from a chateau in Lorraine, and the niece of Madame de
Graffigny, the author of the "Peruvian Letters"; Franklin in his old
age, while a welcome guest in the intellectual circle which this
widowed lady continued to gather about her. Throughout his stay in
France he was in unbroken relations with this circle, dining with it
very often, and adding much to its gayety, while Madame Helvétius, with
her friends, dined with him once a week. It was with tears in his eyes
that he parted from her, whom he never expected to see again in this
life; and on reaching his American home, he addressed her in words of
touching tenderness:--"I stretch out my arms towards you,
notwithstanding the immensity of the seas which separate us, while I
wait the heavenly kiss which I firmly trust one day to give you."[36]
But the story of the verse is not yet finished. And here it mingles with
the history of Franklin in Paris, constituting in itself an episode of
the American Revolution. The verse was written for a portrait. And now
that the ice was broken, the portrait of Franklin was to be seen
everywhere,--in painting, in sculpture, and in engraving. I have
counted, in the superb collection of the Bibliothèque Impériale at
Paris, nearly a hundred engraved heads of him. At the royal exposition
of pictures the republican portrait found a place, and the name of
Franklin was printed at length in the catalogue,--a circumstance which
did not pass unobserved at the time; for the "Espion Anglais," in
recording it, treats it as "announcing that he began to come out from
his obscurity."[37] The same curious authority, describing a festival at
Marseilles, says, under date of March 20th, 1779,--"I was struck, on
entering the hall, to observe a crowd of portraits representing the
insurgents; but that of M. Franklin especially drew my attention, on
account of the device, '_Eripuit coelo_,' etc. This was inscribed
recently, and _every one admired the sublime truth_."[38] Thus
completely was France, not merely in its social centre, where fashion
gives the law, but in its distant borders, pledged to the cause of which
Franklin was the representative.
As in the halls of science and in popular resorts, so was our
Plenipotentiary even in the palace of princes. The biographer of the
Prince de Condé dwells with admiration upon the illustrious character
who, during the great debate and the negotiations which ensued, had
fixed the regards of Paris, of Versailles, of the whole kingdom
indeed,--although in his simple and farmer-like exterior so unlike those
gilded plenipotentiaries to whom France was accustomed,--and he
recounts, most sympathetically, that the Prince, after an interview of
two hours, declared that "Franklin appeared to him above even his
reputation."[39] And here again we encounter the unwilling testimony of
Capefigue, who says that he was followed everywhere, taking possession
of "hearts and minds," and that "his image, under the simple garb of a
Quaker, was to be found at the hearth of the poor and in the boudoir of
the beautiful";[40]--all of which is in harmony with the more
sympathetic record of Lacretelle, who says that "portraits of Franklin
were everywhere, with this inscription, _Eripuit coelo_, etc., _which
the Court itself found just and sublime_."[41]
But it was at court, even in the precincts of Versailles, that the
portrait and the inscription had their most remarkable experience. Of
this there is an authentic account in the Memoirs of Marie Antoinette by
her attendant, Madame Campan. This feminine chronicler relates that
Franklin appeared at court in the dress of an American farmer. His flat
hair without powder, his round hat, his coat of brown cloth contrasted
with the bespangled and embroidered dresses, the powdered and perfumed
hair of the courtiers of Versailles. The novelty charmed the lively
imagination of French ladies. Elegant _fêtes_ were given to the man who
was said to unite in himself the renown of a great, natural philosopher
with "those patriotic virtues which had made him embrace the noble part
of Apostle of Liberty." Madame Campan records that she assisted at one
of these _fêtes_, where the most beautiful among three hundred ladies
was designated to place a crown of laurel upon the white head of the
American philosopher, and two kisses upon the cheeks of the old man.
Even in the palace, at the exposition of the Sèvres porcelain, the
medallion of Franklin, with the legend, "_Eripuit coelo_", etc., was
sold directly under the eyes of the King. Madame Campan adds, however,
that the King avoided expressing himself on this enthusiasm, which, she
says, "without doubt, his sound sense made him blame." But an incident,
called "a pleasantry," which has remained quite unknown, goes beyond
speech in the way of explaining the secret sentiments of Louis XVI. The
Comtesse Diane de Polignac, devoted to Marie Antoinette, shared warmly
the "infatuation" with regard to Franklin. The King observed it. But
here the story shall be told in the language of the eminent lady who
records it:--"Il fit faire à la manufacture de Sèvres un vase de nuit,
an fond duquel était placé le médaillon avec la légende _si fort en
vogue_, et l'envoya en présent d'étrennes à la Comtesse Diane."[42] Such
was the exceptional treatment of Franklin, and of the inscription in his
honor which was so much in vogue. Giving to this incident its natural
interpretation, it is impossible to resist the conclusion, that the
French people, and not the King, sanctioned American Independence.
The conduct of the Queen on this special occasion is not recorded;
although we are told by the same communicative chronicler who had been
Her Majesty's companion, that she did not hesitate to express herself
more openly than the King on the part which France took in favor of the
independence of the American Colonies, to which she was constantly
opposed. A letter from Mario Antoinette, addressed to Madame de
Polignac, under the date of April 9th, 1787, declares unavailing regret,
saying,--"The time of illusions is past, and to-day we pay dear on
account of our infatuation and enthusiasm for the American War."[43] It
is evident that Marie Antoinette, like her brother Joseph, thought that
her "business was to be a Royalist."
But the name of Franklin triumphed in France. So long as he continued to
reside there he was received with honor, and when, after the achievement
of Independence, and the final fulfilment of all that was declared in
the verse of Turgot, he undertook to return home, the Queen--who had
looked with so little favor upon the cause which he so grandly
represented--sent a litter to receive his sick body and carry him gently
to the sea. As the great Revolution began to show itself, his name was
hailed with new honor; and this was natural, for the great Revolution
was the outbreak of that spirit which had risen to welcome him. In
snatching the sceptre from a tyrant he had given a lesson to France.
His death, when at last it occurred, was the occasion of a magnificent
eulogy from Mirabeau, who, borrowing the idea of Turgot, exclaimed from
the tribune of the National Assembly,--"Antiquity would have raised
altars to the powerful genius, who, for the good of man, embracing in
his thought heaven and earth, _could subdue lightning and tyrants_."[44]
On his motion, France went into mourning for Franklin. His bust was a
favorite ornament, and, during the festival of Liberty, it was carried,
with those of Sidney, Rousseau, and Voltaire, before the people to
receive their veneration.[45] A little later, the eminent medical
character, Cabanis, who had lived in intimate association with Franklin,
added his testimony, saying that the enfranchisement of the United
States was in many respects his work, and that the Revolution, the most
important to the happiness of men which had then been accomplished on
earth, united with one of the most brilliant discoveries of physical
science to consecrate his memory; and he concludes by quoting the verse
of Turgot.[46] Long afterwards, his last surviving companion in the
cheerful circle of Madame Helvétius, still loyal to the idea of Turgot,
hailed him as "that great man who had placed his country in the number
of independent states, and made one of the most important discoveries of
the age."[47]
But it is time to look at this verse in its literary relations, from
which I have been diverted by its commanding interest as a political
event. Its importance on this account must naturally enhance the
interest in its origin.
The poem which furnished the prototype of the famous verse was
"Anti-Lucretius, sive de Deo et Natura," by the Cardinal Melchior de
Polignac. Its author was of that patrician house which is associated so
closely with Marie Antoinette in the earlier Revolution, and with
Charles X. in the later Revolution, having its cradle in the mountains
of Auvergne, near the cradle of Lafayette, and its present tomb in the
historic cemetery of Picpus, near the tomb of Lafayette, so that these
two great names, representing opposite ideas, begin and end side by
side. He was not merely an author, but statesman and diplomatist also,
under Louis XIV. and the Regent. Through his diplomacy a French prince
was elected King of Poland. He represented France at the Peace of
Utrecht, where he bore himself very proudly towards the Dutch. By the
nomination of the Pretender, at that time in France, he obtained the hat
of a cardinal. At Rome he was a favorite, and he was also, with some
interruptions, a favorite at Versailles. His personal appearance, his
distinguished manners, his genius, and his accomplishments, all
commended him. Literary honors were superadded to political and
ecclesiastical. He succeeded to the chair of Bossuet at the Academy. But
he was not without the vicissitudes of political life. Falling into
disgrace at court, he was banished to the abbacy of Bonport. There the
scholarly ecclesiastic occupied himself with a refutation of Lucretius,
in Latin verse.
The origin of the poem is not without interest. Meeting Bayle in
Holland, the ecclesiastic found the indefatigable skeptic most
persistently citing Lucretius, in whose elaborate verse the atheistic
materialism of Epicurus is developed and exalted. Others had already
answered the philosopher directly; but the indignant Christian was moved
to answer the poet through whom the dangerous system was proclaimed. His
poem was, therefore, a vindication of God and religion, in direct
response to a master-poem of antiquity, in which these are assailed. The
attempt was lofty, especially when the champion adopted the language of
Lucretius. Perhaps, since Sannazaro, no modern production in Latin verse
has found equal success. Even before its publication, in 1747, it was
read at court, and was admired in the princely circle of Sceaux. It
appeared in elegant, editions, was translated into French prose by
Bougainville, and into French verse by Jeanty-Laurans, also most
successfully into Italian verse by Ricci. At the latter part of the last
century, when Franklin reached Paris, it was hardly less known in
literary circles than a volume of Grote's History in our own day.
Voltaire, the arbiter of literary fame at that time, regarding the
author only on the side of literature, said of him, in his "Temple du
Goût,"--
"Le Cardinal, oracle de la France,
Réunissaut Virgile avec Platon,
_Vengeur du ciel et vainqueur de Lucrèce_."
The last line of this remarkable eulogy has a movement and balance not
unlike the Latin verse of Turgot, or that which suggested it in the poem
of Polignac; but the praise which it so pointedly offers attests the
fame of the author; nor was this praise confined to the "fine frenzy" of
verse. The "Anti-Lucretius" was gravely pronounced the "rival of the
poem which it answered,"--"with verses as flowing as Ovid, sometimes
approaching the elegant simplicity of Horace and sometimes the nobleness
of Virgil,"--and then again, with a philosophy and a poetry combined
"which would not be disavowed either by Descartes or by Virgil."[48]
Turning now to the poem itself, we shall see how completely the verse of
Turgot finds its prototype there. Epicurus is indignantly described as
denying to the gods all power, and declaring man independent, so as to
act for himself; and here the poet says, "Braving the thunderous
recesses of heaven, _he snatched the lightning from Jove and the arrows
from Apollo_, and, liberating the mortal race, ordered it to dare all
things,"--
"Coeli et tonitralia templa lacessens,
_Eripuit fulmenque Jovi, Phoeboque sagittas_;
Et mortale manumittens genus, omnia jussit
Audere."[49]
To deny the power of God and to declare independence of His commands,
which the poet here holds up to judgment, is very unlike the life of
Franklin, all whose service was in obedience to God's laws, whether in
snatching the lightning from the skies or the sceptre from tyrants; and
yet it is evident that the verse which pictured Epicurus in his impiety
suggested the picture of the American plenipotentiary in his double
labors of science and statesmanship.
But the present story will not be complete without an allusion to that
poem of antiquity which was supposed to have suggested the verse of
Turgot, and which doubtless did suggest the verse of the
"Anti-Lucretius." Manilius is a poet little known. It is difficult to
say when he lived or what he was. He is sometimes supposed to have lived
under Augustus, and sometimes under Theodosius. He is sometimes supposed
to have been a Roman slave, and sometimes a Roman senator. His poem,
under the name of "Astronomicon," is a treatise on astronomy in verse,
which recounts the origin of the material universe, exhibits the
relations of the heavenly bodies, and vindicates this ancient science.
It is while describing the growth of knowledge, which gradually mastered
Nature, that the poet says,--
"Eriputque Jovi fulmen, viresque tonandi."[50]
The meaning of this line will be seen in the context, which, for
plainness as well as curiosity, I quote from a metrical version of the
first book of the poem,[51] entitled, "The Sphere of Marcus Manilius
made an English Poem, by Edward Sherburne," which was dedicated to
Charles II.:--
"Nor put they to their curious search an end
Till reason had scaled heaven, thence viewed this round
And Nature latent in its causes found:
Why thunder does the suffering clouds assail;
Why winter's snow more soft than summer's hail;
Whence earthquakes come and subterranean fires;
Why showers descend, what force the wind inspires:
From error thus the wondering minds uncharmed,
_Unsceptred Jove, the Thunderer disarmed_."
Enough has been said on the question of origin; but there is yet one
other aspect of the story.
The verse was hardly divulged when it became the occasion of various
efforts in the way of translation. Turgot had already done it into
French; so had D'Alembert. M. Nogaret wrote to Franklin, inclosing an
attempted translation, and says in his letter,--"The French have done
their best to translate the Latin verse, where justice is done you in so
few words. They have appeared as jealous of transporting this eulogy
into their language as they are of possessing you. But nobody has
succeeded, and I think nobody will succeed."[52] He then quotes a
translation which he thinks defective, although it appeared in the
"Almanach des Muses" as the best:--
"Cet homme que tu vois, sublime en tous les tems,
Dérobe aux dieux la foudre et le sceptre aux tyrans."
To this letter Dr. Franklin made the following reply:[53]--
"_Passy, 8 March, 1781_.
"SIR,--I received the letter you have done me the honor of writing
to me the 2d instant, wherein, after overwhelming me with a flood
of compliments, which I can never hope to merit, you request my
opinion of your translation of a Latin verse that has been applied
to me. If I were, which I really am not, sufficiently skilled in
your excellent language to be a proper judge of its poesy, the
supposition of my being the subject must restrain me from giving
any opinion on that line, except that it ascribes too much to me,
especially in what relates to the tyrant, the Revolution having
been the work of many able and brave men, wherein it is sufficient
honor for me, if I am allowed a small share. I am much obliged by
the favorable sentiments you are pleased to entertain of me.
"With regard, I have the honor to be, Sir, etc.,
"B. FRANKLIN."
In his acknowledgment of this letter M. Nogaret says,--"Paris is pleased
with the translation of your '_Eripuit_,' and your portrait, as I had
foreseen, makes the fortune of the engraver."[54] But it does not appear
to which translation he refers.
Here is another attempt:--
"Il a par ses travaux, toujours plus étonnans,
Ravi la foudre aux Dieux et le sceptre aux tyrans."
There are other verses which adopt the idea of Turgot. Here, for
instance, is a part of a song by the Abbé Morellet, written for one of
the dinners of Madame Helvétius:[55]--
"Comme un aigle audacieux,
Il a volé jusqu'aux cieux,
_Et dérobé le tonnerre_
Dont ils effrayaient la terre,
Heureux larcin
De l'habile Benjamin.
"L'Américain indompté
_Recouvre sa liberté_;
Et ce généreux ouvrage,
Autre exploit de notre sage,
Est mis à fin
Par Louis et Benjamin."
Mr. Sparks found among Franklin's papers the following paraphrastic
version:[56]--
"Franklin sut arrêter la foudre dans les airs,
Et c'est le moindre bien qu'il fit à sa patrie;
Au milieu de climats divers,
Où dominait la tyrannie,
Il fit régner les arts, les moeurs, et le génie;
Et voilà le héros que j'offre à l'univers."
Nor should I omit a translation into English by Mr. Elphinstone:--
"He snatched the bolt from Heaven's avenging hand,
Disarmed and drove the tyrant from the land."
In concluding this sketch, I wish to say that the literary associations
of the subject did not tempt me; but I could not resist the inducement
to present in its proper character an interesting incident which can be
truly comprehended only when it is recognized in its political
relations. To this end it was important to exhibit its history, even in
details, so that the verse which has occupied so much attention should
be seen not only in its scholarly fascination, but in its wide-spread
influence in the circles of the learned and the circles even of the
fashionable in Paris and throughout France, binding this great nation by
an unchangeable vow to the support of American liberty. Words are
sometimes things; but never were words so completely things as those
with which Turgot welcomed Franklin. The memory of that welcome cannot
be forgotten in America. Can it ever be forgotten in France?
POSTSCRIPT.
And now the country is amazed by the report that the original welcome of
France to America and the inspired welcome of Turgot to Franklin are
forgotten by the France of this day, or, rather let me say, forgotten by
the Emperor, whose memory for the time is the memory of France. It is
said that Louis Napoleon is concerting an alliance with the Rebel
slavemongers of our country, founded on the recognition of their
independence, so that they may take their place as a new power in the
family of nations. Indeed, we have been told, through the columns of the
official organ, the "Moniteur," that he wishes to do this thing. Perhaps
he imagines that he follows the great example of the last century.
What madness!
The two cases are in perfect contrast,--as opposite as the poles, as
unlike as Liberty and Slavery.
The struggle for American Independence was a struggle for Liberty, and
was elevated throughout by this holy cause. But the struggle for
Slavemonger Independence is necessarily and plainly a struggle for
Slavery, and is degraded throughout by the unutterable vileness of all
its barefaced pretensions.
The earlier struggle, adopted by the enlightened genius of France, was
solemnly placed under the benediction of "God and Liberty." The present
struggle, happily thus far discarded by that same enlightened genius,
can have no other benediction than "Satan and Slavery."
The earlier struggle was to snatch the sceptre from a kingly tyrant. The
present struggle is to put whips into the hands of Rebel slavemongers
with which _to compel work without wages_, and thus give wicked power to
vulgar tyrants without number.
The earlier struggle was fitly pictured by the welcome of Turgot to
Franklin. But another spirit must be found, and other words must be
invented, to picture the struggle which it is now proposed to place
under the protection of France.
The earlier struggle was grandly represented by Benjamin Franklin, who
was already known by a sublime discovery in science. The present
struggle is characteristically represented by John Slidell, whose great
fame is from the electioneering frauds by which he sought to control a
Presidential election; so that his whole life is fitly pictured, when it
is said, that he thrust fraudulent votes into the ballot-box, and whips
into the hands of task-masters.
The earlier struggle was predicted by Turgot, who said, that, in the
course of Nature, colonies must drop from the parent stem, like ripe
fruit. But where is the Turgot who has predicted, that, in the course of
Nature, the great Republic must be broken, in order to found a new power
on the corner-stone of Slavery?
The earlier struggle gathered about it the sympathy of the learned, the
good, and the wise, while the people of France rose up to call it
blessed. The present struggle can expect nothing but detestation from
all who are not lost to duty and honor, while the people of France must
cover it with curses.
The earlier struggle enjoyed the favor of France, whether in assemblies
of learning or of fashion, in spite of its King. It remains to be seen
if the present struggle must not ignobly fail in France, still mindful
of its early vows, in spite of its Emperor.
Where duty and honor are so plain, it is painful to think that even for
a moment there can be any hesitation.
Alas for France!
* * * * *
REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
_History of Spanish Literature._ By GEORGE TICKNOR. In Three Volumes.
Third American Edition, corrected and enlarged. Boston: Ticknor &
Fields.
The first edition of this work was published in 1849, in three volumes
octavo, and it is hardly necessary for us to add, that it was received
with very great favor both at home and abroad. Indeed, we may go
farther, and say that it was received with the highest favor by those
who were best qualified to pronounce upon its merits. The audience which
it addressed was small at home, and not numerous anywhere; for the
literature of Spain, in general, does not present strong attractions to
those who are not natives of the Peninsula. In our country, at the time
of its publication, there was hardly a man competent to examine and
criticize it; and in Europe, outside of Spain itself, the number of
thorough Spanish scholars was and is but small, and of these a large
proportion is found in Germany. But by these, whether in Germany,
France, or England, Mr. Ticknor's History was received with a generous
and hearty admiration which must have been to him as authentic a token
of the worth of his book as the voice of posterity itself. But, of
course, it was exposed to the severest trial in Spain, the people of
which are intensely national, loving their literature, like everything
else which belongs to them, with a passionate and exclusive love, and
not disposed to treat with any tenderness a foreign writer who should
lay an incompetent hand upon any of their great writers, though in a
friendly and liberal spirit. But by the scholars and men of letters in
Spain it was greeted with a kindliness of welcome which nothing but the
most substantial excellence could have assured. Universal assent to the
views of a foreigner and a Protestant was not to be expected: this or
that particular judgment was questioned; but no one said, or could say,
that Mr. Ticknor's History was superficial, or hastily prepared, or
prejudiced, or wanting in due proportions. On the other hand, a most
hearty tribute of admiration was paid to its thorough learning, its
minute and patient research, its accurate judgments, its candid temper
and generous spirit. Cultivated Spaniards were amazed that a foreigner
had so thoroughly traced the stream of their literature from its
fountain-heads, omitting nothing, overlooking nothing, and doing justice
to all.
Such a work could never attain any very wide popularity, and this from
the nature of its subject. To the general reader books about books are
never so attractive as histories and biographies, which deal with the
doings of men, and glow with the warmth of human interests. But every
man of literary taste, though but superficially acquainted with Spanish
literature, could recognize the merits of Mr. Ticknor's work, its
philosophical spirit, its lucid arrangement, its elegant and judicious
criticisms, and its neat, correct, and accurate style. He could not fail
to see that the works of Bouterwek and Sismondi were, by comparison,
merely a series of graceful sketches, with no claim to be called a
complete and thorough history. It took its place at once as the highest
authority in any language upon the subject of which it treated, as the
very first book which everybody would consult who wanted any information
upon that subject.
The present edition of the "History of Spanish Literature" is by no
means identical with those which have preceded it. It omits nearly the
whole of the inedited, primitive Castilian poems which have heretofore
filled about seventy pages at the end of the last volume; and in other
parts of the work a corresponding, and even more than a corresponding,
amount of new matter has been introduced, which will, it is believed, be
accounted of greater interest than the early poetry it displaces. These
additions and changes have been derived from very various sources. In
the first place, Mr. Ticknor was in Europe himself in 1856 and 1857, and
visited the principal libraries, public and private, in England, France,
Germany, and Italy, in which any considerable collection of Spanish
books was to be found, and by examination of these supplied any wants
there might be in his own very ample stores. In the second place, his
History has been translated into German and Spanish, the former version
being illustrated with notes by Dr. Ferdinand Wolf, perhaps the best
Spanish scholar in Germany, and the latter by Don Pascual de Gayangos,
one of the best scholars in Spain. From the results of the labors of
these distinguished annotators Mr. Ticknor has taken--with generous
acknowledgment--everything which, in his judgment, could add value,
interest, or completeness to the present revised edition. And lastly, in
the period between the publication of the first edition and the present
time much has been done for the illustration of Spanish literature, both
in the Peninsula and out of it. This is due in part to the interest in
the subject which Mr. Ticknor himself awakened; and in Spain it is one
of the consequences of the rapid progress in material development and
vital energy which that country has been making during the last fifteen
years. New lives of some of its principal writers have been published,
and new editions of their works have been prepared. From all these
sources a very ample supply of new materials has been derived, so that,
while the work remains substantially the same in plan, outline, and
spirit, there are hardly three consecutive pages in it which do not
contain additions and improvements. We will briefly mention a few of the
more prominent of these.
In the first volume, pages 446-455, the life of Garcilasso de la Vega is
almost entirely rewritten from materials found in a recent biography by
Don Eustaquio Navarrete, which Mr. Ticknor pronounces "an important
contribution to Spanish literary history." The writer is the son of the
learned Don Martin Navarrete.
In the second volume, pages 75-81, many new and interesting facts are
stated in regard to the life of Luis de Leon, derived from a recently
published report of the entire official record of his trial before the
Inquisition, of which Mr. Ticknor says that it is "by far the most
important authentic statement known to me respecting the treatment of
men of letters who were accused before that formidable tribunal, and
probably the most curious and important one in existence, whether in
manuscript or in print. Its multitudinous documents fill more than nine
hundred pages, everywhere teeming with instruction and warning on the
subject of ecclesiastical usurpations, and the noiseless, cold, subtle
means by which they crush the intellectual freedom and manly culture of
a people."
In the same volume, pages 118-119, some new and interesting facts are
stated which prove beyond a doubt, that Lope de Vega was actuated by
ungenerous feelings towards his great contemporary, Cervantes. The
evidence is found in some autograph letters of Lope, extracts from which
were made by Duran, and are now published by Von Schack, an excellent
Spanish scholar.
In the same volume, page 191, is a copy of the will of Lope de Vega,
recently discovered, and obtained from the late Lord Holland.
In the same volume, pages 354-357, is a learned bibliographical note
upon the publication and various editions of the plays of Calderon.
In the third volume, Appendix B., pages 408-414, is a learned
bibliographical note on the Romanceros.
In the same volume, Appendix C., pages 419-422, is an elaborate note on
the Centon Epistolario, in reply to an article by the Marques de Pidal.
In the same volume, Appendix D., pages 432-434, is a new postscript on
the clever literary forgery, _El Buscapié_.
At the close of the third volume there are seven pages giving a brief
and condensed account of the several works connected with Spanish
literature which have been published within two or three years past, and
since the stereotype plates for the present work were cast.
The present edition is in a duodecimo, instead of an octavo form, and is
sold at a less price than the previous ones.
In the closing sentences of the preface to this edition, Mr. Ticknor
says: "Its preparation has been a pleasant task, scattered lightly over
the years that have elapsed since the first edition of this work was
published, and that have been passed, like the rest of my life, almost
entirely among my own books. That I shall ever recur to this task again,
for the purpose of further changes or additions, is not at all probable.
My accumulated years forbid any such anticipation; and therefore, with
whatever of regret I may part from what has entered into the happiness
of so considerable a portion of my life, I feel that now I part from it
for the last time. _Extremum hoc munus habeto_." This is a very natural
feeling, and gracefully expressed; but whatever of sadness there may be
in parting from a book which has so long been a constant resource, a
daily companion, may in this case be tempered by the thought that the
work, as now dismissed, is so well founded, so symmetrically
proportioned, so firmly built, as to defy the sharpest criticism--that
of Time itself.
* * * * *
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FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The circumstances connected with the introduction of the
British troops into Boston will be found related in the "Atlantic
Monthly" for June, 1862; and the number for the following August
contains a view of the relation of the question of removal to the
arbitrary policy contemplated for the Colonies.]
[Footnote 2: Boston, printed in the "Gazette" of February 12, 1770. A
letter printed in the "Boston Evening Post," October 9, 1789, from
London, received by the last ship, after eulogizing "the noble stand of
the colonists," says, "I am charmed with the prudent conduct of the
Bostonians in particular, and that you have been able lo preserve so
much tranquillity among you, while the spirits of the people must have
been so soured and agitated by oppression. You have certainly very wise
and prudent men concerned in the conduct of your affairs." A Tory view
of Boston in these times, (by "Sagittarius,") is as follows:--"The
Town-Meeting at Boston is the hot-bed of sedition. It is there that all
their dangerous insurrections are engendered; it is there that the flame
of discord and rebellion was first lighted up and disseminated over the
Provinces; it is therefore greatly to be wished that Parliament may
rescue the loyal inhabitants of that town and Province from the
merciless hand of an ignorant mob, led on and inflamed by
self-interested and profligate men."]
[Footnote 3: _Reliq. Wotton._, p. 317, et seq.]
[Footnote 4: Of clay he says, "It is a cursed step-dame to almost all
vegetation, as having few or no meatuses for the percolation of
alimental showers."]
[Footnote 5: Sir William Temple gives this list of his pears:--Blanquet,
Robin, Rousselet, Pepin, Jargonel; and for autumn: Buree, Vertlongue,
and Bergamot.]
[Footnote 6: Brougham's _Speeches_, Vol. II. p. 233.]
[Footnote 7: Vol. IV. p. 443, First Series.]
[Footnote 8: _Notes and Queries_, Vol. V. p. 17.]
[Footnote 9: _Ibid._]
[Footnote 10: Lib. I. v. 104.]
[Footnote 11: Sparks's _Works of Franklin_, Vol. VIII. p. 538.]
[Footnote 12: _Notes and Queries_, Vol. V. p. 549, First Series.]
[Footnote 13: _Ibid_. Vol. V. p. 140. See, also, _Ibid._ Vol. V. p. 571;
Vol. VI. p. 88; _Dublin Review_ for March, 1847, p. 212; _Quarterly
Review_ for June, 1850.]
[Footnote 14: _Oevres de Turgot_, Tom. IX. p. 140.]
[Footnote 15: _Oeuvres de Condorcet_, par O'Connor, Tom. V. p. 162.]
[Footnote 16: Sparks's _Works of Franklin_, Vol. VIII. p. 537; Mignet,
_Notices et Portraits_, Tom. II. p. 480.]
[Footnote 17: Cabania, _Oeuvres_, Tom. V. p. 251.]
[Footnote 18: _Lettres de Madame Du Deffant_, Tom. III. p. 367.]
[Footnote 19: _Ibid_. Tom. IV. p. 35.]
[Footnote 20: Lacretelle, _Histoire de France_, Tom. V. p. 90.]
[Footnote 21: _Oeuvres de Condorcet_, par O'Connor, Tom. V. pp. 406,
407.]
[Footnote 22: Capefigue, _Louis XVI_, Tom. II. pp. 12, 13, 42, 49, 50.
The rose-water biographer of Diane de Poitiers, Madame de Pompadour, and
Madame du Barry would naturally disparage Franklin.]
[Footnote 23: Mignet, _Notices at Portraits_, Tom. II. p. 427.]
[Footnote 24: _La Gazette Secrète_, 15 Jan. 1777; Capefigue, _Louis
XVI._, Tom. II. p. 15.]
[Footnote 25: _Oeuvres de Turgot_, Tom. II. p. 66.]
[Footnote 26: _Oeuvres de Turgot_, Tom. VIII. p. 496.]
[Footnote 27: Vol. X. p. 107.]
[Footnote 28: _Mémoires de Madame D'Épinay_, Tom. III. p. 431.]
[Footnote 29: Galiani, _Correspondance_, Tom. II. p. 275, _Lettre de 25
Juillet_, 1778. Nobody saw America with a more prophetic eye than this
inspired Pulcinello of Naples. As far back as the eighteenth of May,
1776, several weeks before the Declaration of Independence, he
wrote,--"The epoch is come for the total fall of Europe and its
transmigration to America. Do not buy your house in the Chaussée
d'Antin, but at Philadelphia. The misfortune for me is that there are no
abbeys in America." Tom. II. p. 203. See also Grimm, _Correspondence_,
Tom. IX. p. 285 (1776).]
[Footnote 30: The dictionaries of Michaud and Didot concur in the date
of her death; but there is reason to suppose that they are both
mistaken.]
[Footnote 31: See Quérard, _La France Littéraire_, article _La
Rochefoucauld_.]
[Footnote 32: Tom. I. p. 168.]
[Footnote 33: _Oeuvres de Turgot_, Tom. I. p. 416.]
[Footnote 34: Franklin, _Works_, by Sparks, Vol. V. p. 124.]
[Footnote 35: _Oeuvres de Turgot_, Tom. I. p. 414; Tom. IX. p. 416;
_Oeuvres de Condorcet_, Tom. V. p. 162.]
[Footnote 36: Cabanis, _Oeuvres_, Tom. V. p. 261; Mignet, _Notices et
Portraits_, Tom. II. p. 475. See, also, Morellet, _Mémoires_, Tom. I. p.
290. Cabanis and Morellet both lived for many years under the hospitable
roof of Madame Helvétius. It is the former who has preserved the
interesting extract from the letter of Franklin. Nobody who has visited
the Imperial Library at Paris can forget the very pleasant autograph
note of Franklin in French to Madame Helvétius, which is exhibited in
the same case with an autograph note of Henry IV. to Gabrielle
d'Estrées.]
[Footnote 37: Tom. II. p. 83. See, also, p. 337.]
[Footnote 38: Tom. II. p. 465. See, also, the letter of the Marquis de
Chastellux to Professor Madison on the Fine Arts in America, where the
generous Frenchman recommends for all our great towns a portrait of
Franklin, "with the Latin verse inscribed in France below his portrait."
Chastellux, _Travels in North America_, Vol. II. p. 372.]
[Footnote 39: Chambelland, _Vie du Prince de Bourbon-Condé_, Tom. I. p.
374.]
[Footnote 40: Capefigue, _Louis XVI._, Tom. II. pp. 49, 50.]
[Footnote 41: Lacretelle, _Histoire de France pendant le 18me Siècle_,
Tom. V. p. 91. The historian errs in putting this success in 1777,
before the date of the Treaty; and he errs also with regard to the
Court, if he meant to embrace the King and Queen.]
[Footnote 42: _Mémoires sur Marie Antoinette_, par Madame Campan, Tom.
I. p. 251.]
[Footnote 43: _Bulletin de l'Alliance des Arts_, 10 Octobre, 1843. See
also Goncourt, _Histoire de Marie Antoinette_, p. 221.]
[Footnote 44: Grimm, _Correspondance_, Tom. XVI. p. 407.]
[Footnote 45: Louis Blanc, _Histoire de la Revolution_, Tom. VI. pp.
234, 316.]
[Footnote 46: Cabanis, _Oeuvres_, Tom. V. p. 251.]
[Footnote 47: Morellet, _Mémoires_, Tom. I. p. 290.]
[Footnote 48: _L'Anit-Lucrèce_, traduit de Bougainville, _Épitre
Dédicatoire, Discours Préliminaire_, p. 69.]
[Footnote 49: Lib. I. v. 95.]
[Footnote 50: Lib. I. v. 104. _Tonandi_ is sometimes changed to
_tonantis_, and also _tonanti_. (See _Notes and Queries_, Vol. V. p.
140.)]
[Footnote 51: It is understood that there is a metrical version of this
poem by the Rev. Dr. Frothingham of Boston, which he does not choose to
publish, although, like everything from this refined scholar, it must be
marked by taste and accuracy.]
[Footnote 52: Sparks's _Works of Franklin_, Vol. VIII. p. 538, note.]
[Footnote 53: Ibid. p. 537.]
[Footnote 54: Sparks's _Works of Franklin_, Vol. VIII. p. 539, note.]
[Footnote 55: Morellet, _Mémoires_, Tom. I. p. 288. Nothing is more
curious with regard to Franklin than these _Mémoires_, including
especially the engraving from an original design by him. In some copies
this engraving is wanting. It is, probably, the gayeties here recorded,
and, perhaps, the "infatuation" of the court-ladies, that suggested the
scandalous charges which Dr. Julius has strangely preserved in his
_Nordamerikas Sittliche, Zustände_, Vol. I. p. 98.]
[Footnote 56: Sparks's _Works of Franklin_, Vol. VIII. p. 539, note.]