CHAPTER III.[1803-1806.]

From the commencement of 1803, those difficulties of the Abate Mezzofanti’s position, which merely arose from the straitness of his income, began gradually to diminish. On the 29th of January in that year he was appointed assistant librarian of theIstitutoof Bologna; one of those munificent literary institutions of which Italy is so justly proud, founded in the end of the seventeenth century by the celebrated General Count Marsigli, and enriched by the munificence of many successive scholars and citizens of Bologna; especially of the great Bolognese Pope, Benedict XIV. Its collections and museums are among the finest in Italy; and the library contains above a hundred and fifty thousand volumes.

But whatever of pecuniary advantage he derived from this appointment, was perhaps more than counterbalanced by the constant demand upon his time from the charge of so extensive a library: especially ashe confesses that, up to that period, he had seldom bestowed a thought on the study of bibliography. To add to the ordinary engagements of librarian, too, it was determined, sometime after Mezzofanti’s appointment, to prepare a Catalogue Raisonné, in which the Oriental and Greek department naturally fell to his share. For the Oriental department of the library there seems, up to this time, to have been no catalogue, or at least an exceedingly imperfect and inaccurate one; and as a definite time was fixed for the completion of the task, it became for Mezzofanti a source of serious and protracted embarrassment, to which he alludes more than once in his correspondence.

A more congenial occupation, however, was offered to him soon afterwards. In the end of the same year, he was restored to his former position in the university. On the 4th of November in that year, he was appointed Professor of Oriental Languages;—a place which he was enabled to hold in conjunction with his office in the Library of the Institute.

A few months after his installation, he read at the university, June 23rd, 1804, on the occasion of conferring degrees, the first public dissertation of which I have been able to discover any record. The subject was “The Egyptian Obelisks.” The dissertation itself has been lost; but Count Simone Stratico, of Pavia, to whom we owe the notice of its delivery, speaks of it as “most judicious and learned,” and replete with antiquarian erudition.[317]

The Oriental Professorship in the neighbouring University of Parma, was at this time held by the celebrated John Bernard de Rossi. Mezzofanti had long desired to form the acquaintance of this distinguished Orientalist; and more than once projected a visit to Parma, for the purpose of placing himself in communication with him on the subject of his favourite study. His duties as assistant Librarian at length afforded the desired opportunity. Having occasion to order some of De Rossi’s works from Parma, he addressed to De Rossi himself a letter which soon led to a warm and intimate friendship, and was the commencement of an interesting, although not very frequent, correspondence, which continued, at irregular intervals, up to the time of De Rossi’s death. Some of Mezzofanti’s letters to De Rossi, which are preserved in the Library of Parma, have been kindly placed at my disposal. They are chiefly interesting as throwing some light on the progress of his studies.

The first is dated September 15th, 1804—

To the Abate John Bernard de Rossi, Professor of Oriental Languages.Bologna, September 15, 1804.Most illustrious Signor Abate.—I have long admired and profited by your rare acquirements, which your learned works have made known all over Europe; and I have, for some time, been projecting a visit to Parma, for the double purpose of tendering to you a personal assurance of my esteem, and of examining your far-famed library. Finding my hope disappointed for the present, I take advantage of a favourable opportunity to offer you, at least in writing, some expression of the profound respectwhich I feel for one so distinguished in the same studies which I myself pursue with great ardour, although with very inferior success. I am desirous also to procure those of your works marked nos. 22, 24, 25, and 26, in the catalogue kindly forwarded by you through Professor Ranzani. Pray give to the bearer of this letter any of the above numbers which may be in readiness: he will immediately settle for them.May I venture to hope that, for the future, you will allow me, when any difficulty occurs to me in my Oriental reading, to have recourse to your profound knowledge of Oriental literature, and also that you will accept the sincere assurance of the esteem with which I declare myselfYour most humble and devoted servantD. Joseph Mezzofanti,Professor of Oriental Languages.

To the Abate John Bernard de Rossi, Professor of Oriental Languages.

Bologna, September 15, 1804.

Most illustrious Signor Abate.—I have long admired and profited by your rare acquirements, which your learned works have made known all over Europe; and I have, for some time, been projecting a visit to Parma, for the double purpose of tendering to you a personal assurance of my esteem, and of examining your far-famed library. Finding my hope disappointed for the present, I take advantage of a favourable opportunity to offer you, at least in writing, some expression of the profound respectwhich I feel for one so distinguished in the same studies which I myself pursue with great ardour, although with very inferior success. I am desirous also to procure those of your works marked nos. 22, 24, 25, and 26, in the catalogue kindly forwarded by you through Professor Ranzani. Pray give to the bearer of this letter any of the above numbers which may be in readiness: he will immediately settle for them.

May I venture to hope that, for the future, you will allow me, when any difficulty occurs to me in my Oriental reading, to have recourse to your profound knowledge of Oriental literature, and also that you will accept the sincere assurance of the esteem with which I declare myself

Your most humble and devoted servant

D. Joseph Mezzofanti,Professor of Oriental Languages.

De Rossi replied by an exceedingly courteous letter, accompanied by a present of several books connected with Oriental literature, and manifesting so friendly an interest in the studies of his young correspondent, that Mezzofanti never afterwards hesitated to consult him when occasion arose. Their letters, in accordance with the ceremonious etiquette which characterizes all the correspondence of that period, are somewhat stiff and formal; but their intercourse was marked throughout by an active and almost tender interest upon the one side, and a respectful but yet affectionate admiration upon the other.

Meanwhile, however, Mezzofanti’s own increasing reputation led to his being frequently consulted upon difficulties of the same kind. On one of these—a book in some unknown character which had been sent for his examination by Monsignor Bevilacqua,a learned prelate at Ferrara—he, in his turn, consults De Rossi. His letter is chiefly curious as showing (what will appear strange to our modern philologers) that up to this date Mezzofanti was entirely unacquainted with Sanscrit. The importance of that language and the wide range of its relations, which Frederic Schlegel was almost the first to estimate aright, were not at this time fully appreciated.

To Professor Ab. John Bernard De Rossi.Bologna, February 4, 1805.The works which I lately received from you have only served to confirm the estimate of your powers which I had formed from those with which I was previously acquainted; while the obliging letter and valuable present which accompanied them, equally convinced me of the kindness of your heart. May I hope that this kindness, as well as your profound erudition, may establish for me a title to claim the permission which I solicited in my last letter? I venture, therefore, to enclose to you a printed page in unknown characters, which the owner of the original, Mgr. Alessandro Bevilacqua of Ferrara, tells me has been already examined by several savants, but to no purpose. The book comes originally from Congo;[318]having been brought thence to Ferrara by a Capuchin of the same respectable family. Being full of the idea of Sanscrit, to which I earnestly long to apply myself as soon as I shall find means for the study, I was at first inclined to suspect that this might be the Sanscrit character; but this is a mere fancy of mine, or at best a guess. I look, therefore, to your more extensive knowledge for a satisfactory solution of the doubt; and meanwhile pray you to accept the assurance of my sincere gratitude and esteem.

To Professor Ab. John Bernard De Rossi.

Bologna, February 4, 1805.

The works which I lately received from you have only served to confirm the estimate of your powers which I had formed from those with which I was previously acquainted; while the obliging letter and valuable present which accompanied them, equally convinced me of the kindness of your heart. May I hope that this kindness, as well as your profound erudition, may establish for me a title to claim the permission which I solicited in my last letter? I venture, therefore, to enclose to you a printed page in unknown characters, which the owner of the original, Mgr. Alessandro Bevilacqua of Ferrara, tells me has been already examined by several savants, but to no purpose. The book comes originally from Congo;[318]having been brought thence to Ferrara by a Capuchin of the same respectable family. Being full of the idea of Sanscrit, to which I earnestly long to apply myself as soon as I shall find means for the study, I was at first inclined to suspect that this might be the Sanscrit character; but this is a mere fancy of mine, or at best a guess. I look, therefore, to your more extensive knowledge for a satisfactory solution of the doubt; and meanwhile pray you to accept the assurance of my sincere gratitude and esteem.

This correspondence with De Rossi, also, shows very remarkably that, however, at a later period ofhis career, Mezzofanti’s wonderful faculty of language may have been sharpened by practice into what appears almost an instinct, his method of study at this time was exact, laborious, and perhaps even plodding. He appears, from the very first, to have pursued as a means of study that system of written composition which was the amusement of his later years; and he occasionally availed himself of De Rossi’s superior knowledge and experience so far as to submit these compositions for his judgment and correction.

It is to one of these he alludes in the following letter:—

Bologna, April 15, 1805.I send you a translation in twelve languages of a short Latin sentence, in the hope that you will kindly correct any mistakes into which I may have fallen. I have been obliged to write it almost impromptu (su due piedi). I mention this, however, not to excuse my own blunders, but to throw the blame of them on those who have forced me to the task. Not having a single individual within reach with whom to take counsel, I have been obliged to impose this trouble upon one whose kind courtesy will make it seem light to him. Accept my thanks in anticipation of your compliance.P. S. I should feel obliged if you could let me have your observations by return of post. Pray attribute this, perhaps excessive, liberty to the peculiar circumstances in which I am placed.

Bologna, April 15, 1805.

I send you a translation in twelve languages of a short Latin sentence, in the hope that you will kindly correct any mistakes into which I may have fallen. I have been obliged to write it almost impromptu (su due piedi). I mention this, however, not to excuse my own blunders, but to throw the blame of them on those who have forced me to the task. Not having a single individual within reach with whom to take counsel, I have been obliged to impose this trouble upon one whose kind courtesy will make it seem light to him. Accept my thanks in anticipation of your compliance.

P. S. I should feel obliged if you could let me have your observations by return of post. Pray attribute this, perhaps excessive, liberty to the peculiar circumstances in which I am placed.

I have in vain endeavoured to ascertain what were the twelve languages of this curious essay. As no trace of the copy is now to be found among De Rossi’s papers, it seems probable that De Rossi, in complying with the request contained in the letter, returned thepaper to the writer with his own corrections. But whatever these “twelve languages” may have been, it is certain that, even at the date of this letter, Mezzofanti’s attainments were by no means confined to that limit. My attention has been called to a notice of him contained in a curious, though little-known work, published at Milan in 1806,[319]which describes his range of languages as far more extensive.

The work to which I refer is the narrative of an occurrence, which, although not uncommon even down to a later date, it is difficult now-a-days,—since Islam has ceased to

——————————wield, as of old, her thirsty lance,And shake her crimson plumage to the skies,—

——————————wield, as of old, her thirsty lance,

And shake her crimson plumage to the skies,—

to realize as an actual incident of the nineteenth century;[320]—the adventures of an amateur antiquarian, who was made captive by Corsairs and carried into Barbary. The hero of this adventure was a Milanese ecclesiastic, Father Felix Caronni. He embarked at Palermo for Naples, in a small merchant vessel laden with oranges, but had scarcely quitted the shore when a pirate-ship hove in sight. The crew, as commonly happened in such cases, took to the boatand escaped, leaving Father Caronni and eighteen other passengers to the mercy of the Corsairs, who speedily overpowered the defenceless little vessel. Caronni, as a subject of the Italian Republic and a French citizen,[321]would have been secured against capture; but his passport was in the hands of the captain who had escaped; and thus, notwithstanding his protestations, he was seized along with the rest, and, under circumstances of great cruelty and indignity, they were all carried into Tunis. Here, however, at the reclamation of the French, supported by the Austrian Consul, Father Caronni was saved from the fate which awaited the rest of the captives—of being sold into slavery,—and at the end of three months, (part of which he devoted to the exploration of the antiquitiesof Tunis and the surrounding district,) he was set at liberty and permitted to return to Italy.

Being at a loss, while preparing the narrative of his captivity for publication, for a translation of the papers which he received at Tunis when he was set at liberty, he had recourse to the assistance of the Abate Mezzofanti, as he explains in the following passage.

“No sooner,” says he, “had I obtained theTiscara[322][passport,] than I made an exact copy of it (with the exception of the Bey’s seal,) in the precise dimensions of the original. It was not so easy, however, to obtain a translation of this document in Italy, both because it had been hastily written with a reed—the instrument which the Moors employ for that purpose—and because there were introduced into it certain ciphers which are peculiar to the Arabs of Barbary. These difficulties, however, were happily overcome, thanks to the exceeding courtesy, as well as the distinguished learning of the Abate Mezzofanti, Professor of Oriental Languages in the Institute of Bologna, who is commonly reputed to be master of more than twenty-four languages, the greater number of which he speaks with fluency and purity. He has favoured me (in fourlong letters which contain as much information as might supply a whole course of lectures) with a literal and critically exact version of it, accompanied by copious explanations, as also by a free translation in the following terms:—

“‘THERE IS BUT ONE GOD, AND MAHOMET IS HIS PROPHET.’“‘We have liberated Father Felix Caronni. He is hereby permitted to embark from Goletta for the country of the Christians, at the intervention of the French Consul, through the medium of his Dragoman, in consideration of the payment of ninety-nine sequins mahbub, and by the privilege of the mighty and generous Hamudah[323]Basha Bey, Ben-Dani, whom may God prosper!“Second Giomada, in the year 1219.’

“‘THERE IS BUT ONE GOD, AND MAHOMET IS HIS PROPHET.’

“‘We have liberated Father Felix Caronni. He is hereby permitted to embark from Goletta for the country of the Christians, at the intervention of the French Consul, through the medium of his Dragoman, in consideration of the payment of ninety-nine sequins mahbub, and by the privilege of the mighty and generous Hamudah[323]Basha Bey, Ben-Dani, whom may God prosper!

“Second Giomada, in the year 1219.’

“Giomada[324]is the name of the sixth month of the Arabs, and the year indicated is the year of their Hegira.[325]And, as the Oriental writing runs in the reverse order to ours, (that is, from right to left,) it is necessary, in order that the words of the translationmay correspond with those of the original, to take the precaution of reading it backwards, or, what will answer the same purpose, in a mirror. What will strike the reader, however, as most strange, (as it did myself when first the Tiscara was translated for me) is its particularizing the ‘payment of ninety-nine gold mahbubs,’ which, at the rate of ninelireto each, would make eight hundred and ninety-one Milaneselire: whereas this is utterly false as far as I am personally concerned, and the French commissary did not give me the least intimation of any payment whatever. The Abate Mezzofanti suggests with much probability, that it may be a part of thestylus curiæof these greedy barbarians to boast in their piratical diplomacy that no Christian, and still more no ecclesiastic, has ever been made captive by them without being, even though a Frank, supposed to be a lawful prize, and consequently without being made ‘to bleed’ a little.”[326]

This is the first published notice of Mezzofanti which has come under my observation; and it is particularly interesting as an early example of his habit of cultivating not only the principal languages, but the minor varieties of each. The knowledge that, when he had barely completed his thirtieth year, he was reputed to be master ofmore than twenty-four languages, may perhaps prepare us to regard with less incredulity the marvels which we shall find related of his more advanced career.

In the autumn of the same year the Abate Mezzofanti paid his long-intended visit to Parma and De Rossi. The Italians, and especially the literary men of Italy, are proverbially bad travellers. Magliabecchi never was outside of the gates of Florence in his life, except on two occasions;—once as far as Fiesole, which may almost be called a suburb of the city, and once again to a distance of ten miles. Many an Italian Professor has passed an entire life without any longer excursion than the daily walk from his lodgings to the lecture-room. Even the great geographer, D’Anville, who lived to the age of eighty-five, is said never to have left his native city, Paris;[327]and yet he was able to point out many errors in the plan of the Troad made upon the spot by the Comte de Choiseul. It has been frequently alleged of Mezzofanti, also, as enhancing still more the marvel of his acquirements in languages, that, until his fortieth year, he had never quitted his native city. That this statement is not literally true appears from a letter which he wrote to the Abate de Rossi, on his return to Bologna, after the visit to which I have alluded.

“Pressed as I am, by my many occupations,” he says, November 11, 1805, “I cannot delay writing at least a few lines, in grateful acknowledgment of the kindnesses which I received from you during my happy sojourn in your city.“I had been prepared for this, as well by the reports of others regarding your amiable disposition, as by the courtesy which I had myself experienced; but all my anticipations had fallen far short of the reality. Feeling that it is impossible for me to offer you a suitable acknowledgment, I beg that, although I have neither words to express it, nor means of giving it effect,you will believe me to be deeply sensible of my obligation to you. I shall preserve all your valued presents with most jealous care. The ‘Persian Anthology’[328]has been greatly relished by all here who apply to the study of that language.“I shall often have to claim your indulgence for the trouble which I shall not fail to give you. After the many proofs I have had of your kindness, I feel that I should be offending you, were I to ask you to let me hope to reckon myself henceforward among your friends.”

“I had been prepared for this, as well by the reports of others regarding your amiable disposition, as by the courtesy which I had myself experienced; but all my anticipations had fallen far short of the reality. Feeling that it is impossible for me to offer you a suitable acknowledgment, I beg that, although I have neither words to express it, nor means of giving it effect,you will believe me to be deeply sensible of my obligation to you. I shall preserve all your valued presents with most jealous care. The ‘Persian Anthology’[328]has been greatly relished by all here who apply to the study of that language.

“I shall often have to claim your indulgence for the trouble which I shall not fail to give you. After the many proofs I have had of your kindness, I feel that I should be offending you, were I to ask you to let me hope to reckon myself henceforward among your friends.”

The friendly courtesy of the Abate De Rossi rendered Mezzofanti’s stay at Parma exceedingly agreeable. One of the friends whom he made during this visit, the learned and venerable Librarian of the Ducal Library of that city, Cavaliere Angelo Pezzana, still survives, and still speaks with an affection which borders upon tenderness of the friendship which resulted from their first meeting, and which was the pride of his later life. Among the subjects of their conversation, Cavaliere Pezzana particularly remembers some observations of Mezzofanti on certain affinities between the Russian and Latin languages, which struck him by their acuteness and originality.

A commission which M. Pezzana gave him at his departure led to the following letter:—

Bologna, November 11, 1805.In the hope of being able to execute the little commission you gave me regarding the Aldine edition of Aristotle, I have put off writing until I should have searched in our Library.—On doing so, I find that I have been mistaken, as there is no copy of that edition here. I avail myself, however, of this opportunity torenew the assurance of my gratitude for the numberless kindnesses which you shewed me during the time it was my good fortune to be in your society;—kindnesses which I never can forget, and for which it is my most anxious desire to find some opportunity of making you a return. I beg you to present my respects to Dr. Tommasini, and to offer to Signor Bodoni and his lady my acknowledgments for their great courtesy. Should any occasion arise in which my humble services can be of use, I shall consider myself happy, if you will always put aside every idea of my occupations, and will honour me with your valued commands. Meanwhile accept the assurance of my sincere esteem and attachment.

Bologna, November 11, 1805.

In the hope of being able to execute the little commission you gave me regarding the Aldine edition of Aristotle, I have put off writing until I should have searched in our Library.—On doing so, I find that I have been mistaken, as there is no copy of that edition here. I avail myself, however, of this opportunity torenew the assurance of my gratitude for the numberless kindnesses which you shewed me during the time it was my good fortune to be in your society;—kindnesses which I never can forget, and for which it is my most anxious desire to find some opportunity of making you a return. I beg you to present my respects to Dr. Tommasini, and to offer to Signor Bodoni and his lady my acknowledgments for their great courtesy. Should any occasion arise in which my humble services can be of use, I shall consider myself happy, if you will always put aside every idea of my occupations, and will honour me with your valued commands. Meanwhile accept the assurance of my sincere esteem and attachment.

Mezzofanti’s intimacy with the two gentlemen named in this letter, Tommasini and Bodoni, was lasting and sincere. Tommasini, although an eminent physician of Parma and an active member of most of the scientific societies of his day, is little known outside of Italy: but Bodoni, the celebrated printer and publisher of Parma, whose magnificent editions of the classics are still among the treasures of every great library, was a man of rare merit, and a not unworthy representative of the learned fathers of his craft, the Stephens, the Manuzi, and Plantins of the palmy days of typography. He was a native of Saluzzo in the kingdom of Sardinia. His early taste for wood-engraving induced him to visit Rome for the purpose of study: and he set out in company with a school-fellow, whose uncle held some office in the Roman court. Bodoni supported himself and his companion upon the way by the sale of his little engravings, which are now prized as curiosities in the art. On their arrival, however, being coldly received by the friend on whom they had mainly relied, they resolved to return home; butbefore leaving Rome, Bodoni paid a visit to the printing-office of the Propaganda, where he had the good fortune to attract the notice of the Abate Ruggieri, then director of that great press. He thus obtained employment in the establishment, and at the same time was permitted to attend the Oriental Schools of the Sapienza; and thus having learned Hebrew and Arabic, he was employed exclusively upon the Oriental works printed by the Propaganda. The excellence and accuracy of the editions of theMissale Arabico-Coptum, and theAlphabetum Tibetanumof Padre Giorgi which Bodoni printed, excited universal admiration; and when, on occasion of the tragical death of his friend and patron Ruggieri, he resolved to leave Rome, he was earnestly invited to settle in England: but he accepted in preference an invitation to Parma, where he was appointed Director of the Ducal Press, and where all the well-known master-pieces of his art were successively produced. Himself a man of much learning, and of a highly cultivated mind, he enjoyed the friendship of most of the literati of Italy.

Blest with a taste exact, yet unconfined,A knowledge both of books and human kind—

Blest with a taste exact, yet unconfined,

A knowledge both of books and human kind—

his conversation was in the highest degree entertaining and instructive; and his correspondence, which has been published, is full of interest. With the Abate De Rossi, who employed his press in all his Oriental publications,[329]he was for years on terms of the closestintimacy; and during Mezzofanti’s visit to Parma, he treated De Rossi’s young disciple with a courtesy which Mezzofanti long and gratefully remembered. Bodoni’s wife, who, upon his death in 1813, succeeded to his vast establishment, was, like her husband, highly cultivated, and a most amiable and excellent woman.

Among the languages which occupied Mezzofanti at this time, Persian appears to have received the principal share of his attention. One of the first presents which he received from De Rossi was, as we have seen, a “Persian Anthology;” and in a letter to De Rossi, written early in 1806 (which Cavaliere Pezzana has published in the Modena Journal,Memorie di Religione,) he expresses much anxiety to obtain a copy of the great Persian classic, Kemal Eddin.

The same letter, however, contains another request from which it may be inferred that much of his time was still drawn away from these studies by his duties as librarian. Speaking of the catalogue then in preparation, he complains of the miserably defective condition of the library in the department of Bibliography; and begs of his correspondent to send him the titles of theBibliothecaof Hottinger, (perhaps hisPromptuarium, seu Bibliotheca Orientalis, Heidelberg, 1658) and that of Wolff, in order that he may provide himself with these works, as a guide in his task.

On this subject he speaks more explicitly in a letter of the 3rd of March, in the same year. After alluding to a commission of De Rossi’s which he had failed in executing, he proceeds:—

The preparation of the Catalogue keeps me in constant occupation, because these Oriental books are for the most part without the name of the author or the title of the work. Their value, that is to say their scientific importance, bears no proportion to the labour they cost; inasmuch as they are all Grammatical Treatises, books of Law, and such like. However, should I meet any work of interest, I shall not fail to communicate it to you; although, I fancy, it will be difficult to meet with anything that you do not know already.I received from Vienna immediately on its publication, the Grammar of the learned Dombay,[330]who is well known for other works, particularly upon the language and history of Morocco. It happens that I have got two copies of it; and I have set one of them apart for you, for which you may perhaps give me in exchange one of your own duplicates. It contains the Grammar arranged after the manner of the Latin Grammarians; the rules of Persian according to Meninski,[331]with this advantage, that here they are given in consecutive order, whereas in Meninski they are found mixed up with those of the Arabic and Turkish. Your friend, M. Silvestre de Sacy, reviewed it in theMagazin Encyclopedique, and took exception to Dombay’s reducing the Persian to the system of the Latin Grammar. I hope shortly to receive the other from Leipsic, as also the tales of Nizami, in Persian and Latin, printed by Wolff, and published by L. Hill, who promised for the same year, 1802, an edition of theDivanof Hafiz.[332]I am only waiting for a safe opportunity to forward your books. We cannot fail of one in the coming spring. As to the “Oriental Anthology,” I have given it in charge to the courier as far as Milan, but have not yet heard intelligence of it.Book-buying is undoubtedly very troublesome, and the least disagreeable part of it is the money the books cost, although in Oriental works I always find this excessive. I beg you not to spare me whenever any occasion offers in which my services may be useful.

I received from Vienna immediately on its publication, the Grammar of the learned Dombay,[330]who is well known for other works, particularly upon the language and history of Morocco. It happens that I have got two copies of it; and I have set one of them apart for you, for which you may perhaps give me in exchange one of your own duplicates. It contains the Grammar arranged after the manner of the Latin Grammarians; the rules of Persian according to Meninski,[331]with this advantage, that here they are given in consecutive order, whereas in Meninski they are found mixed up with those of the Arabic and Turkish. Your friend, M. Silvestre de Sacy, reviewed it in theMagazin Encyclopedique, and took exception to Dombay’s reducing the Persian to the system of the Latin Grammar. I hope shortly to receive the other from Leipsic, as also the tales of Nizami, in Persian and Latin, printed by Wolff, and published by L. Hill, who promised for the same year, 1802, an edition of theDivanof Hafiz.[332]

I am only waiting for a safe opportunity to forward your books. We cannot fail of one in the coming spring. As to the “Oriental Anthology,” I have given it in charge to the courier as far as Milan, but have not yet heard intelligence of it.

Book-buying is undoubtedly very troublesome, and the least disagreeable part of it is the money the books cost, although in Oriental works I always find this excessive. I beg you not to spare me whenever any occasion offers in which my services may be useful.

The Abate de Rossi had requested to be furnished with a note of the principal Oriental MSS. of the Bologna collection; but Mezzofanti’s labour in preparing the general Catalogue was so great, and the time fixed for its completion was so entirely inadequate, that, for a considerable time, he was unable to comply with his friend’s request. It is to this he alludes in the following letter, dated May 11, 1806. After apologizing for the delay in forwarding the book referred to in the letter of March 3rd, he proceeds:—

My labour at the Catalogue still continues, nor can I hope at the period appointed for its close, to have done more than merely sketch it out;—that is, we shall have nothing entered but the bare titles of the works. This, however, in itself, is a task so difficult in our Oriental MSS., that, up to the present time, it has never been satisfactorily done. Besides the Oriental books, I have also to deal with the Greek; and all must be in readiness within the coming month. The truth is that I should require a year at least to give a proper shape to my labour, and in the beginning my impression was that it would require two. And in my present difficulty, what gives me most pain is that I am not able to send you, as early as I could wish, the note which you have often expressed a wish to obtain; but I shall send it the very first moment in my power.I have received your new work,[333]for which I beg you to accept my best thanks. I did not write at the moment, knowing youdo not like very frequent letters; I have besides too much respect for time devoted like yours to the honour of Italy, on which your works in Oriental literature have shed a lustre. I long nevertheless for a fitting opportunity to prove to you the sincerity of my gratitude.

I have received your new work,[333]for which I beg you to accept my best thanks. I did not write at the moment, knowing youdo not like very frequent letters; I have besides too much respect for time devoted like yours to the honour of Italy, on which your works in Oriental literature have shed a lustre. I long nevertheless for a fitting opportunity to prove to you the sincerity of my gratitude.

Under this constant and protracted labour Mezzofanti’s health began to give way. His chest was seriously threatened during the summer of 1806, and had it not been that he fortunately obtained an extension of the time allotted for the completion of his task at the Catalogue, it is not unlikely that his constitution, naturally weak, might have been permanently enfeebled. Family cares, too, formed no inconsiderable part of his burden. The health of his mother, which had for a long time been very uncertain, was completely broken down. She was now entirely blind. For many weeks of this season he was in daily apprehension of her death; and, in the pressure of his engagements, his hours of attendance on her sick bed were subtracted from the time hitherto devoted to rest, already sufficiently curtailed.

In the midst of these cares and occupations, Mezzofanti was surprised by a flattering invitation to transfer his residence to Paris, with a promise of patronage and distinction from the Emperor Napoleon, who was at this time eagerly engaged in plans for the development of the literary and artistic glories of his capital. More than one of Mezzofanti’s countrymen were already in the enjoyment of high honours at Paris. First among them may be named Volta, for many years Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Pavia. More pliant than hisgreat fellow-discoverer, Galvani, or perhaps more favourably circumstanced as not being, like him, a member of a Papal University, he had escaped the proscription which brought Galvani to his grave—one of those victims of loyalty whom Petrarch declares

————assai più belliCon la lor povertà, che Mida o CrassoCon l’oro, ond’ a virtù furon ribelli;—

————assai più belli

Con la lor povertà, che Mida o Crasso

Con l’oro, ond’ a virtù furon ribelli;—

Volta was called from Pavia to Paris, where he was rewarded with distinctions, emoluments, titles, and, more flattering than all, with the personal notice and patronage of the great conqueror himself, who was often present at his experiments, and displayed a warm interest in the results to which they led.[334]

Such were at this period the tempting rewards of scientific or literary eminence in France. Moreover, Count Marescalchi, in whose family Mezzofanti had acted as tutor and librarian during the years of his deprivation, was now Resident Minister of the Kingdom of Italy at Paris. The Count’s intercourse with Mezzofanti was but little interrupted by their separation; and, even during his residence in Paris, the latter continued to correspond with him; chiefly on matters connected with the education of his children, or with the completion or extension of his noble library. The extent of their intimacy indeed may beinferred from one of Mezzofanti’s letters to the Count, dated September 16, 1806, in which we find him freely employing the services of the minister in procuring books at Paris, not only for himself but for his literary friends in Bologna.[335]

It was through this Count Marescalchi that the invitation to Paris was conveyed to Mezzofanti, and it cannot be doubted that it was accompanied by a warm recommendation from the Count himself. No trace of this formal correspondence is now discoverable; but probably far more interesting, as it is certainly far more characteristic, than the official letter or reply, is the following playful letter to one of Count Marescalchi’s sons, Carlino (Charlie), Mezzofanti’s former pupil—now the representative of the house—who had written a special letter, to add the expression of his own wishes to those of his father, that his old instructor should join them once again at Paris.

Bologna, September 16, 1806.But three letters, dearest Charlie, in an entire year—two from Lyons, and one from Paris—to cheer my regrets in being separated from you! If I were to take this as the measure of your love for me, I should indeed have reason to be sad. But I have abundant other proofs of your feelings in my regard; and at allevents, I am not one who can afford to be too rigid in insisting upon the frequency of correspondence, unless I wish to furnish grave grounds of complaint against myself.Few, however, as your letters have been, I am deeply grateful for their warm and affectionate sentiments, which carry with them such an evidence of sincerity as to leave me, even when you do not write, no ground for doubting what your feelings still are towards me. I am not sure whether in your regard I shall be equally fortunate; for I am fully sensible that I have not the power of infusing into what I write all the warmth and sincerity that I really feel. However, you are not dependent on my words, in order to be satisfied of the truth of my affection; and, knowing it as you do, even a lesser token of it than this will suffice to convince you.I am still here at Bologna following the same old round of occupations. Nor am I dissatisfied with my lot, for I am quite sensible of my inability to take a loftier flight. I feel that the shade suits me best. Were I to go to Paris, I should be obliged to set myself up upon some candlestick, where I should only give out a faint and flickering gleam, which would soon die utterly away. Nevertheless I am not the less grateful for your advice; though I perceive that you are dissatisfied with me because I am such a little fellow.A thousand, thousand greetings to your dear little sisters. Renew my remembrance to your father, and when you have an occasional moment of leisure from your tasks, pray bestow it uponYour sincere friend,D. Joseph Mezzofanti.

Bologna, September 16, 1806.

But three letters, dearest Charlie, in an entire year—two from Lyons, and one from Paris—to cheer my regrets in being separated from you! If I were to take this as the measure of your love for me, I should indeed have reason to be sad. But I have abundant other proofs of your feelings in my regard; and at allevents, I am not one who can afford to be too rigid in insisting upon the frequency of correspondence, unless I wish to furnish grave grounds of complaint against myself.

Few, however, as your letters have been, I am deeply grateful for their warm and affectionate sentiments, which carry with them such an evidence of sincerity as to leave me, even when you do not write, no ground for doubting what your feelings still are towards me. I am not sure whether in your regard I shall be equally fortunate; for I am fully sensible that I have not the power of infusing into what I write all the warmth and sincerity that I really feel. However, you are not dependent on my words, in order to be satisfied of the truth of my affection; and, knowing it as you do, even a lesser token of it than this will suffice to convince you.

I am still here at Bologna following the same old round of occupations. Nor am I dissatisfied with my lot, for I am quite sensible of my inability to take a loftier flight. I feel that the shade suits me best. Were I to go to Paris, I should be obliged to set myself up upon some candlestick, where I should only give out a faint and flickering gleam, which would soon die utterly away. Nevertheless I am not the less grateful for your advice; though I perceive that you are dissatisfied with me because I am such a little fellow.

A thousand, thousand greetings to your dear little sisters. Renew my remembrance to your father, and when you have an occasional moment of leisure from your tasks, pray bestow it upon

Your sincere friend,

D. Joseph Mezzofanti.

Besides the unaffected modesty and the distrust of his own fitness for a prominent position (even with such advantages as those offered to him at Paris,) which are expressed in this letter, the Abate Mezzofanti was also moved to decline the invitation, both by affection for his native city and love of its universitylife (to which we shall find him looking back with fondness even after his elevation to the cardinalate,) and by unwillingness to part from his family, to whom he was tenderly attached. To the latter he had always felt himself bound by duty as well as by affection. The expense of the education of his sister’s children, who at this time, (as appears from a little Memoir in the archives of the University drawn up in 1815,) were seven in number, amounted to a considerable sum. They, as well as their parents, still continued to reside in his house; and the same Memoir alludes to another near relative who was at least partially dependent upon him for support.

To these children, indeed, he was as a father. Cavaliere Minarelli, in the interesting note already cited, describes him as “most affectionately devoted to them, and uniting in his manners the loving familiarity of a friend with the graver authority of an instructor.” In his brief intervals of leisure from business or study, he often joined them in their little amusements. Without the slightest trace of austerity, he generally managed to give their amusements, as far as possible, a religious character. He usually made the festivals memorable to them by some extra indulgence or entertainment. He encouraged and directed their childish tastes in the embellishment of their little oratories, or in those well-known Christmas devices of Catholic children, the preparation of the “Crib of the Infant Jesus,” or the decoration of the “Christmas Tree.” Hehoarded his little resources in order to procure for them improving and instructive books. He composed simple odes and sonnets for the several festivals, which it was his greatest enjoyment to hear them recite. The simplicity of his disposition, and a natural fondness for children which was one of the characteristics even of his later life, made all this easy to him. He was always ready, if not to take a part, at least to manifest an interest, in the pleasures of his young friends. In the carnival especially, when amusement seems, for a time, to form the serious business of every Italian household, he was never wanting; and, on one memorable occasion, he actually composed a little comedy, to be acted by his nephews and nieces for the humble family circle.

During the whole winter of 1806-7 his time was still occupied in the uncongenial labour of compiling the Catalogue.

On the 25th of September, he writes to the Abate De Rossi, apologizing for delay in replying to a letter received from him.

“A complication of unfortunate accidents has, up to this moment, prevented me from answering your kind letter of last July. My poor mother has frequently, during the summer, been in extreme danger of death. My own chest, too, has more than once been threatened, and is still far from strong. All this, however, does not save me from a feeling of remorse at having been so tardy towards one whose scientific reputation, as well as his courteous manners, entitle him to so much consideration. My labour, as you say, is not yet over. The task, as I had indeed anticipated from the beginning, has proved an exceedingly difficult one. As an evidence of the difficulty I need only mentionthat the celebrated Giuseppe Assemani, in the similar work which he undertook,[336]has made numerous mistakes, having in one instance given no less than six different titles to seven copies of the same work. This great orientalist, with all his learning, could not command the time necessary for so troublesome a task as that of ascertaining the titles and authors of books which are quite unknown and often imperfect. For my part, I resolved from the beginning that I would not, willingly at least, add to the other deficiencies of which I am conscious, that of haste and insufficient time.Nam quo minus ingenio possum, subsidio mihi diligentiam comparavi; and the condescension of his Serene Highness has in the end relieved me, by extending until April the time allowed for the completion of the task. The grammarians, rhetoricians, poets, prosodians, logicians, and theologians, have taken up all my time hitherto; in the course of the next two months, I hope to complete the enumeration of the other authors; and then I shall at last fulfil my promise of sending you, when occasion serves, whatever I think may interest you.”

De Rossi, in his letter, to which this is a reply, had put some questions regarding the contents of the octavo edition of D’Herbelot’sBibliothèque Orientale, the preface of which had contained a promise of many important improvements. Mezzofanti, referring to these promised additions, goes on to say, “In the articles which I have compared, I have only found a few verbal corrections. But in the preface, we are promised additional articles, drawn from the narratives of travellers subsequent to D’Herbelot. From this promise you will be able to infer what information you may expect to derive from the edition, andwhether it is likely to be useful for your purpose. I have not yet received the supplement, which was to contain certain articles which have been postponed for reasons explained in the preface. Perhaps the reason of its not having been printed, may be, that the articles in question, being of use to orientalists alone, may be found by them in the former editions.

“As it would be no small distinction for the collection of Oriental MSS. belonging to this Royal Library of ours, if among them there should be found any deserving of a place amongst the MSS. cited in your dictionary, I shall endeavour, in the hope that it may prove so, to complete my task as speedily as possible, so as to send you at least an index, out of which you may yourself choose the name of any author whom you shall judge deserving of notice.

“I believe Dombay’s work has been published. I have the title, ‘Geschichte der Mauritan. Könige; aus dem Arabischen übersetzt’;[337]but without date or place. I shall write to Vienna as soon as I can, to order it, if it should be published. I have made a good many interesting acquisitions lately; as for instance,Albucasis ‘De Chirurgia.’[338]Oxonii, 1778.‘Maured Allatafet Jemaleddini filii Togri Bardii; seu Rerum Aegyptiacarum Annales ab Anno C. 971 ad 1453’;[339]several ‘Anthologias’ and ‘Chrestomathias;’ one of which, that of Rink and Vater, has at the end aBibliotheca Arabicacontinued up to 1802; and some other books.”

At this date, Mezzofanti’s correspondence with De Rossi is interrupted; and, although there appears to have been a pretty regular interchange of correspondence between them for some years longer,[340]no further letter has been found among those of De Rossi’s papers which are deposited in the library of Parma, except one written in the year 1812.

Scanty as are the details supplied by those which are preserved, they, at least, afford some insight into the process by which the writer’s extraordinary faculty was developed and perfected. However acute and almost instinctive this faculty may have been, it is plain from these letters, that it was at this time most systematically and laboriously cultivated. However much Mezzofanti may have owed to nature, it is certain, that for all the practical results of his great natural gifts he was indebted to his own patient and almost plodding industry; and it may cheer the humble student in the long and painful course through whichalone he can aspire to success, to find that even this prodigy of language was forced to tread the same laborious path;—to see the anxious care with which he collected and consulted grammars, dictionaries, manuals, reading books, and other similar commonplace appliances of the study; and to learn, that, with all his unquestioned and unquestionable genius, he did not consider himself above the drudgery at which even less gifted students are but too apt to murmur or repine.

It may be added that the toilsome practice of writing out translations from one language into another which these letters disclose, was continued by Mezzofanti through his entire career of study, although in his latter years he pursued it more as an amusement than as a serious task.

It is hard, in ordinary cases, to infer from such performances the exact degree of proficiency in the language which they should be presumed to indicate. Some translations are only the fruit of long and careful study.[341]On the contrary, there are instances on record in which excellent translations have been produced by persons possessing a very slight knowledge of the original. Thus Monte, the author of the best Italian translation of Homer, was utterly unacquainted with Greek;[342]Halley, without knowing a word of Arabic, was able to guess his way, (partly by mathematical reasoning, partly by the aid of a Latin version, which,however, only contained about one-tenth of the entire work,) through an Arabic translation of ApolloniusDe Sectione Rationis;[343]and M. Arnaud, the first French translator of Lalla Rookh, did not know a word of the English language.[344]

But on all these points Mezzofanti’s fame is beyond suspicion. His translations, at least in his later life, were at once produced with the utmost freedom and rapidity, and are universally acknowledged to have been models of verbal correctness; and in most instances where the same passage is translated into many languages, the versions display a remarkable mastery over the peculiar forms and idioms of each.

This wonderful success must be ascribed, no doubt, to his early and systematic exercise in translation, of which the specimen submitted to De Rossi is but one example.

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