CHAPTER VII.[1820-1828.]

Mezzofanti’s regular studies suffered some interruption in the early part of 1820. Debilitated by the excessive and protracted application which has been described, his health had for some time been gradually giving way, and at last he was peremptorily ordered to suspend his lectures, and to discontinue his private studies for six months.[393]During this interval he employed himself chiefly in botanizing, a study in which he is said to have made considerable progress. He also made a short excursion to the beautiful district of Mantua, and afterwards to Modena, Pisa, and Leghorn.[394]In the course of this journey he found an opportunity of making himself acquainted with the Hebrew Psalmody as followed in the modern synagogues, and with the practical system of accentuation of the ancient Hebrew Language now in use among the Jews of Italy. The object of hisvisit to Leghorn was, that, from the Greek sailors of that port, he might acquire the pronunciation of modern Romaic.[395]

After a short time his health was perfectly restored, with the exception of a certain debility of sight from which he never afterwards completely recovered; and he resumed his ordinary duties in the university about the middle of the year 1820.

The solar eclipse of the 20th of September in that year attracted many scientific visitors to Bologna and the neighbouring cities. Being annular in that region, the eclipse was watched with especial interest by all the astronomers of Northern Italy, by Plana at Turin, by Santini at Padua, by Padre Inghirami at Florence, and by Padre Tinari at Siena. At Bologna the director of the observatory at this time was Pietro Caturegli, editor of the BologneseEfemeridi Astronomiche, and one of Mezzofanti’s most valued friends.

Caturegli’s reputation and the excellent condition of his observatory, induced the celebrated Hungarian Astronomer, Baron Von Zach, who, after a career of much and varied adventure, was at that time engaged in editing at Genoa the Correspondance Astronomique, (a French continuation of his former German JournalMonatliche Correspondenz für Erz- und Himmels-Kunde,) to select Bologna as the place from which to observe this interesting phenomenon. He was accompanied by a Russian nobleman, Prince Volkonski,a man of highly cultivated literary and scientific tastes, and by Captain Smyth of H. M. Ship,Aid, who had just completed his survey of the Ionian Islands. Notwithstanding numerous and urgent applications from other quarters, these three distinguished foreigners, together with his friend Mezzofanti, were the only persons whom Caturegli admitted to the observatory during his observations of the eclipse.

The Baron published in his Journal[396]a very full account of the phenomena of the eclipse, to which he appended as a note the following sketch of his companion on the occasion.

“The annular eclipse of the sun,” he writes, “was one curiosity for us, and Signor Mezzofanti was another. This extraordinary man is really a rival of Mithridates; he speaks thirty-two languages, living and dead, in the manner I am going to describe. He accosted me in Hungarian, and with a compliment so well turned, and in such excellent Magyar, that I was quite taken by surprise and stupefied. He afterwards spoke to me in German, at first in good Saxon (theCruscaof the Germans,) and then in the Austrian and Swabian dialects, with a correctness of accent that amazed me to the last degree, and made me burst into a fit of laughter at the thought of the contrast between the language and the appearance of this astonishing professor. He spoke English to Captain Smyth, Russian and Polish to Prince Volkonski, not stuttering and stammering, but with the same volubility as if he had been speaking his mother tongue, the dialect of Bologna. I was quite unable to tear myself away from him. At a dinner at the cardinal legate’s, Della Spina, his eminence placed me at table next him; after having chatted with him inseveral languages, all of which he spoke much better than I did, it came into my head to address to him on a sudden some words of Wallachian. Without hesitation, and without appearing to remark what an out-of-the-way dialect I had branched off to, off went my polyglot in the same language, and so fast, that I was obliged to say to him; ‘Gently, gently, Mr. Abbé; I really can’t follow you; I am at the end of my Latin-Wallachian.’ It was more than forty years since I had spoken the language, or even thought of it, though I knew it very well in my youth, when I served in an Hungarian regiment, and was in garrison at Transylvania. The professor was not only more ready in the language than I, but he informed me on this occasion, that he knew another tongue that I had never been able to get hold of, though I had enjoyed better opportunities of doing so than he, as I formerly had men that spoke it in my regiment.“This was the language of the Zigans, or Gipsies, whom the French so improperly call Bohemians, at which the good and genuine Bohemians, that is to say, the inhabitants of the kingdom of Bohemia, are not a little indignant. But how could an Italian abbé, who had never been out of his native town, find means to learn a language that is neither written nor printed? In the Italian wars an Hungarian regiment was in garrison at Bologna: the language-loving professor discovered a gipsy in it, and made him his teacher; and, with the facility and happy memory that nature has gifted him with, he was soon master of the language, which, it is believed, is nothing but a dialect, and a corrupted one into the bargain, of some tribes of Parias of Hindostan.”[397]

“This was the language of the Zigans, or Gipsies, whom the French so improperly call Bohemians, at which the good and genuine Bohemians, that is to say, the inhabitants of the kingdom of Bohemia, are not a little indignant. But how could an Italian abbé, who had never been out of his native town, find means to learn a language that is neither written nor printed? In the Italian wars an Hungarian regiment was in garrison at Bologna: the language-loving professor discovered a gipsy in it, and made him his teacher; and, with the facility and happy memory that nature has gifted him with, he was soon master of the language, which, it is believed, is nothing but a dialect, and a corrupted one into the bargain, of some tribes of Parias of Hindostan.”[397]

The wide and peculiar circulation of the journal in which this interesting sketch appeared, contributed more than any previous notice to extend the fame of Mezzofanti. As might naturally be expected, however, details so marvellous, were received with considerable incredulity by some, and were explained away by others as mere embellishments of a traveller’s tale.In consequence, Von Zach, in a subsequent number of his journal, not only reiterated the statement, but added fuller and more interesting particulars regarding it.

“Many persons have doubted,” he writes, “what we said of this astonishing professor of Bologna in our fourth volume; as there have also been persons who doubted what Valerius Maximus relates of the analogous talents of Cyrus and Mithridates. Although all historians have the character of being a little given to lying, Valerius, notwithstanding, passes for a sufficiently veracious author. He says in the eighth book and 9th chapter of his History, or rather of his Compendium of History:Cyrus ommium militum suorum nomina, Mithridates duarum et viginti gentium quæ sub regno ejus erant linguas, ediscendo. People who came several centuries after, and who probably did not know more than one language, and possibly not even that one correctly, have pretended that the twenty-two languages of Mithridates were only different dialects, and that Cyrus only knew the names of his generals. It may be so; we know nothing of the reality, and consequently shall not contradict those critics; but what we do know is, that Signor Mezzofanti speaks very good German, Hungarian, Slavonic, Wallachian, Russian, Polish, French and English. I have mentioned my authorities. It has been said that Prince Volkonski and Captain Smyth gave their testimony in favour of this wonderful professor, out of politeness only. But I asked the prince alone, how the professor spoke Russian, and he told me he should be very glad if his own son spoke it as well. The child spoke English and French better than Russian, having always been in foreign countries with his father. The captain said, ‘the professor speaks English better than I do; we sailors knock the language to pieces on board our vessels, where we have Scotch and Irish, and foreigners of all sorts; there is often an odd sort of jargon spoken in a ship; the professor speaks with correctness, and even with elegance; it is easy to see that he has studied the language.’“M. Mezzofanti came one day to see me at the hotel where I was staying: I happened not to be in my own rooms, but on avisit to another traveller who lodged in the same hotel, Baron Ulmenstein, a colonel in the King of Hanover’s service, who was travelling with his lady. M. Mezzofanti was brought to me; and, as I was the only person who knew him, I introduced him to the company as a professor and librarian of the university. He took part in the conversation, which was carried on in German; and, after this had gone on for a considerable time, the baroness took an opportunity of asking me aside, how it came to pass that a German was a professor and librarian in an Italian university. I replied, that M. Mezzofanti was no German, that he was a very good Italian, of that city of Bologna, and had never been out of it. Judge of the astonishment of all the company, and of the explanations that followed! My readers, I am sure, will not think such a testimony as the Baroness Ulmenstein’s open to any suspicion. She is a thorough German, highly cultivated, and speaks four languages in great perfection.”[398]

“M. Mezzofanti came one day to see me at the hotel where I was staying: I happened not to be in my own rooms, but on avisit to another traveller who lodged in the same hotel, Baron Ulmenstein, a colonel in the King of Hanover’s service, who was travelling with his lady. M. Mezzofanti was brought to me; and, as I was the only person who knew him, I introduced him to the company as a professor and librarian of the university. He took part in the conversation, which was carried on in German; and, after this had gone on for a considerable time, the baroness took an opportunity of asking me aside, how it came to pass that a German was a professor and librarian in an Italian university. I replied, that M. Mezzofanti was no German, that he was a very good Italian, of that city of Bologna, and had never been out of it. Judge of the astonishment of all the company, and of the explanations that followed! My readers, I am sure, will not think such a testimony as the Baroness Ulmenstein’s open to any suspicion. She is a thorough German, highly cultivated, and speaks four languages in great perfection.”[398]

One result of the doubts thus expressed as to the credibility of Von Zach’s report was to draw out a testimony to Mezzofanti’s familiarity with a language for which he had not before publicly gotten credit, the Czechish or Bohemian. A correspondent of the Baron at Vienna, having read his statement in theCorrespondance, expressed his satisfaction at the confirmation which it supplied of what he had before regarded as incredible.

“I was very glad,” he writes, “to see confirmed by you what the Chevalier d’Odelga, colonel and commandant of Prince Leopold of Naples’ regiment, told me of that marvellous man. Chevalier d’Odelga, who is a Bohemian, conversed in that language with M. Mezzofanti, and assured me that he would have taken him for a countryman had he not known him to be an Italian. I frankly confess that until now, I only half believed the tale, for I regard the Bohemian language as the very rack of an Italian tongue.”[399]

Captain (afterwards admiral) Smyth, who accompanied Baron von Zach on this occasion, still survives, after a career of high professional as well as literary and scientific distinction. As a reply to the incredulity to which Von Zach alludes, I may add not only that Admiral Smyth in his “Cycle of Celestial Objects for the Use of Astronomers,” adopts the Baron’s narrative and reprints it at length,[400]but that his present recollections of the interview, which he has been so good as to communicate to me, fully confirm all the Baron’s statements.[401]The admiral adds that, although Mezzofanti made no claim to the character of a practical astronomer, he understood well and was much interested in the phenomena of the eclipse, and especially in its predicted annularity at Bologna. “It was at Mezzofanti’s instance also,” he says, “that Caturegli undertook to compute in advance the elements for an almanac for the use of certain distant convents of the Levant, to aid them in celebrating Easter contemporaneously.”[402]

Startling, therefore, as Von Zach’s account appeared at the time of its publication, we can no longer hesitate to receive it literally and in its integrity.

In reference to one part of it, that which regards the manner in which Mezzofanti acquired the gipsy language—viz., “that he learned it from a gipsy soldier in one of the Hungarian regiments quartered at Bologna,” it is proper to observe, that he appears also, towards the end of his life, to have studied this dialect from books. The catalogue of his library contains two Gipsy Grammars, one in German, and one in Italian. The peculiar idiom of this strange language in which he himself was initiated, is that which prevails among the gipsies of Bohemia and Hungary, or rather Transylvania, which is the purest of all the European gipsy dialects, and differs considerably from that of the Spanish gipsies. Borrow has given a short comparative vocabulary[403]of both, and hasalso printed the Pater Noster in the Spanish gipsy form.

The notoriety which this and other similar narratives procured for the modest professor, speedily rendered him an object of curiosity to every stranger visiting Bologna; and as there was no want of critics not unwilling to question, or at least to scrutinize, the truth of the marvels recounted by their predecessors, it may easily be believed that his life became in some sort a perpetual ordeal. Thus Blume, the author of theIter Italicum, who visited Bologna some time after Von Zach, does not hesitate to take the Baron to task, and to declare his account very much exaggerated.

“Bianconi and Mezzofanti,” says Blume, “are the librarians. The latter, as is well known, is considered throughout all Europe as a linguistic prodigy, a second Mithridates; and is said to speak and write with fluency two-and-thirty dead and living languages. Willingly as I join in this admiration, especially as his countrymen usually display little talent for the acquisition of foreign tongues, I cannot but remark that the account recently given in the fourth and fifth volumes of Von Zach’s ‘Correspondance Astronomique,’is very much exaggerated. Readiness in speaking a language should not be confounded with philological knowledge. I have heard few Italians speak German as well as Mezzofanti; but I have also heard him maintain that between Platt-Deutsch, or the Low German, and the Dutch language, there was no difference whatever.”[404]

It will be remarked here, however, that these condemnatory observations of Herr Blume do not regard Mezzofanti’s attainments as a linguist, but only his skill as a philologist. On the contrary, to his linguistic talents Blume bears testimony hardly less unreserved than that which he criticises in the Baron; and as regards the rest of Blume’s criticism, the mistake in philology, (as to the identity of Platt-Deutsch with Dutch,) which he alleges, and which appears to be the sole foundation of his depreciatory judgment of Mezzofanti’s philological knowledge, is certainly a very minor one, and one which may be very readily excused in any other than a German; especially as Adelung (II. 261), distinctly states of at least one dialect of Platt-Deutsch, that spoken in Hamburg and Altona, that it contains a large admixture of Dutch words—so large that a cursory observer, if we may judge from the specimens which Adelung gives (II. 268), might very readily consider the two dialects almost identical. As to another statement of Blume’s, which imputes to Mezzofanti a want of courtesy to strangers visiting or studying in the library, it is contradicted by the unanimous testimony of all who ever saw him whether at Bologna or at Rome. He was politeness and good nature itself.

But it must not be supposed that all the visits which Mezzofanti received were of the character hitherto described, and were attended with no fruit beyond a passing display of his wonderful faculty. Visitors occasionally appeared, whose knowledge he was enabled to turn to profitable account in extending his own store of languages. From an Armenian traveller who came to Bologna in 1818, he received his first initiation in that difficult and peculiar language, which he afterwards extended in a visit to the celebrated convent of San Lazzaro, at Venice. He studied Georgian with the assistance of a young man from Teflis, who graduated in medicine at Bologna. And even from natives of those countries with the general language of which he was most familiar, he seldom failed to learn some of the peculiarities of local or provincial dialects by which the several branches of each are distinguished. In this way he learned Flemish from some Belgian students of the university. On the other hand, select pupils from various parts came to attend his Greek or Oriental lectures, or to pursue their linguistic studies privately under his direction. One of these, the Abate Celestino Cavedoni, now librarian of the Este Library at Modena, and one of the most eminent antiquarians of Italy, was his pupil from 1816 till 1821. With this excellent youth Mezzofanti formed a cordial friendship; and after Cavedoni’s return to Modena, they maintained a steady and affectionate, although not very frequent, correspondance until Mezzofanti’s final removal from Bologna. Another was Dr. Liborio Veggetti, the present occupantof Mezzofanti’s ancient office in the university library, an office which he owes to the warm recommendation of his former master. A third was the still more distinguished scholar, Ippolito Rosellini, the associate and successor of Champollion in his great work on Egyptian antiquities. Rosellini, who was a native of Pisa, had distinguished himself so much during his early studies in that university, that, on the death of Malanima, the professor of oriental languages, in 1819, Rosellini, then only in his nineteenth year, was provisionally selected to succeed him. It was ordered, nevertheless, that he should first prepare himself by a regular course of study; and with this view he was sent, at the charge of his government, to attend in Bologna the lectures of the great master of oriental studies. Mezzofanti entered with all his characteristic kindness and ardour into the young man’s project. He sent him with a warm letter of recommendation, May 17, 1823, to his friend De Rossi, at Parma; later in the same year, by the representation which he made of his industry and progress, he obtained for him an increase of the pension which had been assigned for his probationary studies; and in the work on the Hebrew Vowel-points,’ which Rosellini published in Bologna,[405]he owed much to the kind criticism and advice of his master. He remained at Bologna till 1824, when his appointment was made absolute, and he returned to Pisa to enter upon its duties. The distinguished after career of Rosellini is well-known.I shall only add, that through life he entertained the most grateful recollection of his old master, and that, on his return from the Egyptian expedition, he made a special visit to Rome for the purpose of seeing him.[406]

The Abate Cavedoni, who, on his return to Modena, as we have seen, continued to correspond for many years with Mezzofanti, has kindly communicated to me those of Mezzofanti’s letters which he has preserved. They contain some interesting particulars of a portion of his life regarding which few other notices have been published.

In addition to his public lectures in the university and his occupation as librarian, he still continued to give private instructions in languages. Mr. Francis Hare, elder brother of the late Archdeacon Julius Hare, learned Italian under his direction. The Countess of Granville, then residing in the family of her aunt, the Countess Marescalchi, remembers to have received her first lessons in English from him. A young Franciscan of the principality of Bosnia prepared himself for his mission by studying Turkish under his tuition. Many other foreigners were among his pupils. Indeed, the ordinary routine of his day, as detailed by one of his surviving friends in Bologna and confirmed by his own letters to Cavedoni, may well excite a feeling of wonder at the extraordinary energy, which enabled him, from the midst of occupations so continuous and so varied, to steal time for the purpose of increasing, or even of maintaining, the stores which he had alreadyacquired. He rose soon after four o’clock, both in winter and in summer; and, after his morning prayer and meditation, celebrated mass—in winter at the earliest light; after which he took a cup of chocolate or coffee. At eight o’clock he gave his daily lecture in the university; thence he passed to the library, where, as is plain from many circumstances, he was generally actively engaged in the duties of his office, although constantly interrupted by the visits of strangers. As his apartments were in the library building, his occupations can hardly be said to have been suspended by his frugal dinner, which, according to the national usage, was at twelve o’clock, and from which he returned to the library. The afternoon was occupied with his private pupils. As his habits of eating and drinking were temperate in the extreme, his supper, (sometimes in his own apartments, sometimes at the house of his sister or of some other friend,) was of the very simplest kind. He continued his studies to a late hour; and, even after retiring to bed, he invariably read for a short time, till the symptoms of approaching sleep satisfied him that, without fear of loss of time, he might abandon all further thought of study.

Such were his ordinary every day occupations; and, amply as they may seem to fill up the circle of twenty-four hours, he contrived, amidst them all, to find time for many offices of voluntary charity. He was assiduous in the confessional, and especially in receiving the confessions of foreigners of every degree. For the spiritual care of all Catholic foreigners, indeed,he seems to have been regarded as invested with a particular commission. In cases of sickness, especially, he was a constant and most cheerful visitor; and there are not a few still living, of those that visited Bologna during these years, who retain a lively and grateful recollection of the kindly attentions, and the still more consolatory ministrations, for which they were indebted to his ready charity.

Another extra-official occupation which absorbed a considerable portion of his time, was the examination of books submitted to him for revision, particularly of those connected with his favourite studies. It sometimes happened that he received such commissions from Rome. “I cannot reckon,” he writes, apologetically, to his friend the abate Cavedoni, “upon a single free moment. The library, my professorship, my private lectures, the revision of books, foreigners, well, sick, or dying, do not leave me time to breathe. I am fast losing, nay I have already lost, the habit of applying myself to study; and when, from time to time, I am called on to do anything, I find myself reduced to the necessity of improvising.”

The most interesting record of this portion of his life will be the series of his letters to his friend and pupil Cavedoni, already alluded to. Unfortunately they are not numerous, and they occur at rather distant intervals; but they are at least valuable as being perfectly simple and unstudied, and free, to an extent very unusual in Italian correspondence, from that artificial and ceremonious character which so often destroys in our eyes the charm of the cleverestforeign correspondence. Cavedoni, during his studies at Bologna, had lived on terms of the most cordial intimacy with his professor and with his family. Mezzofanti’s nephews, especially the young abate Joseph Mezzofanti, (whom we shall find commemorated in some of these letters under the pet nameGiuseppino,Joe,) had been his constant companion and friend.

The first of these letters was written in reply to one of the ordinary new-year’s complimentary letters, which the abate Cavedoni, soon after his return to Modena, had addressed to his old professor.

Bologna, January 18, 1822.My most esteemed Don Celestino,I did not fail, on the first day of the new year, to pray with all my heart that God may ever bestow abundantly upon you His best and sweetest graces. May He deign to hear a prayer, which I shall never cease to offer! I commend myself in turn to your fervent prayers.I am delighted to hear that the abate Baraldi is about to employ his various learning and his great zeal so worthily in the cause of our holy religion. I shall be most happy to take a copy of the “Memorie,” which, as I am informed, are about to appear under his editorship. May I beg of you to arrange that the numbers shall reach me as early as possible after publication? They may be sent through the post; but it will be necessary to fold the packet in such a way as to let it be seen that it is a periodical, in order that it may not be charged the full postage. My great object is to receive the numbers at the earliest moment, in order that a work which is intended to counteract the irreligious principles now unhappily so current, may be read as extensively as possible.I shall examine your medal to-morrow, and, should I succeed in making anything out of it, I will write to you. Let me know how I shall send it back to you.Recollect that we are looking forward here to a visit from you with the utmost anxiety. It was a great surprise and disappointment to us, not to see you during the late holy festivals. Do not forget me, and believe me,Ever your most affectionate servant,D. Joseph Mezzofanti.

Bologna, January 18, 1822.

My most esteemed Don Celestino,

I did not fail, on the first day of the new year, to pray with all my heart that God may ever bestow abundantly upon you His best and sweetest graces. May He deign to hear a prayer, which I shall never cease to offer! I commend myself in turn to your fervent prayers.

I am delighted to hear that the abate Baraldi is about to employ his various learning and his great zeal so worthily in the cause of our holy religion. I shall be most happy to take a copy of the “Memorie,” which, as I am informed, are about to appear under his editorship. May I beg of you to arrange that the numbers shall reach me as early as possible after publication? They may be sent through the post; but it will be necessary to fold the packet in such a way as to let it be seen that it is a periodical, in order that it may not be charged the full postage. My great object is to receive the numbers at the earliest moment, in order that a work which is intended to counteract the irreligious principles now unhappily so current, may be read as extensively as possible.

I shall examine your medal to-morrow, and, should I succeed in making anything out of it, I will write to you. Let me know how I shall send it back to you.

Recollect that we are looking forward here to a visit from you with the utmost anxiety. It was a great surprise and disappointment to us, not to see you during the late holy festivals. Do not forget me, and believe me,

Ever your most affectionate servant,

D. Joseph Mezzofanti.

The journal referred to in this letter is the now voluminous periodical, “Memorie di Religione, di Morale, e di Letteratura,” founded at Modena in 1822, and continued, with one or two short interruptions, up to the present time. The “Abate Baraldi” was a learned ecclesiastic, afterwards arch-priest of Modena.

Cavedoni, since his return to Modena, had been chiefly engaged in archæological studies, and especially in that of numismatics. He often consulted Mezzofanti on these subjects, to which, without being a professed antiquarian, the latter had given some attention. In acknowledgment of this obligation, Cavedoni, several years afterwards, dedicated to him his Spiecilegio Numismatico.[407]

The following letter throws some light on the time and the manner in which his attention was first turned to the Georgian language. The youth to whom it refers was in Bologna in the year 1820 or 1821.

Cavedoni had apologised for occupying his time by his letters.

Bologna, April 5, 1823.My Dear Don Celestino,It will always be a most grateful and pleasing distraction for me in the midst of my endless occupations, to receive even a line from you. It is true that occasionally I may not be able to enjoy this gratification without the drawback arising from regret at not having it in my power to reply to you immediately; but I trust that you will be able to make allowance for me, and that such delays on my part will never cause you to suspect that I have ceased to remember you with special affection.Of the two works which you mention, that of Father Giorgi still maintains the reputation which its author commanded during life by his prodigious learning. Will you let me know whether the little work in Georgian that you refer to is printed or manuscript? You are quite right in supposing that I have not thought of that language since the departure of the young physician of Teflis, who took his medical degree in our university. Alas! what a large proportion of my life is spent in teaching! If I but did that well, I might be content; but when one does too much, he does nothing as it ought to be done.I had not heard a word of Signor Baraldi’s affliction, for which I am much concerned. I trust that, when you write again, you will have better news for me. Pray present my special compliments to the Librarian.Do not forget me; and, in order that I may know you do not, write often to assure me that it is so. Don Giuseppino sends you a thousand greetings, and I myself more than a thousand.Ever your most devoted servant and friend,D. Joseph Mezzofanti.

Bologna, April 5, 1823.

My Dear Don Celestino,

It will always be a most grateful and pleasing distraction for me in the midst of my endless occupations, to receive even a line from you. It is true that occasionally I may not be able to enjoy this gratification without the drawback arising from regret at not having it in my power to reply to you immediately; but I trust that you will be able to make allowance for me, and that such delays on my part will never cause you to suspect that I have ceased to remember you with special affection.

Of the two works which you mention, that of Father Giorgi still maintains the reputation which its author commanded during life by his prodigious learning. Will you let me know whether the little work in Georgian that you refer to is printed or manuscript? You are quite right in supposing that I have not thought of that language since the departure of the young physician of Teflis, who took his medical degree in our university. Alas! what a large proportion of my life is spent in teaching! If I but did that well, I might be content; but when one does too much, he does nothing as it ought to be done.

I had not heard a word of Signor Baraldi’s affliction, for which I am much concerned. I trust that, when you write again, you will have better news for me. Pray present my special compliments to the Librarian.

Do not forget me; and, in order that I may know you do not, write often to assure me that it is so. Don Giuseppino sends you a thousand greetings, and I myself more than a thousand.

Ever your most devoted servant and friend,

D. Joseph Mezzofanti.

In this year, Mezzofanti made the acquaintance of the celebrated Duchess of Devonshire, during one of her visits to the north of Italy. The success of her magnificent edition of Horace’s Fifth Satire—his journey to Brundusium—had suggested to her the idea of a similar edition of the Eneid. The first volume, with a series of illustrations, scenical, as well as historical, (of Troy, Ithaca, Gaeta, Gabii, &c.,) had appeared in Rome in 1819;[408]and the object of the duchess in this visit, was to procure sketches in the locality of Mantua, and especially a sketch of Pietole, the supposed site of the ancient Andes, the place of the poet’s birth, upon that plain,

————tardis ingens ubi flexibus erratMincius.

————tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat

Mincius.

One of Mezzofanti’s letters, addressed to his friend Pezzana, shews the lengths to which this eccentric lady carried her zeal for the illustration of this really magnificent work. Although the second volume hadbeen already published, and many of the copies had been distributed, she continued to add to the number of the illustrations.

“Her Grace, the duchess of Devonshire,” he writes, July 6th, 1823, “on leaving Bologna, commissioned me to forward to you the second volume of the Eneid, translated by Caro. In order to secure its safe and punctual delivery, I begged the good offices of the Abate Crescini, who had just then arrived; and he at once undertook it with his usual courtesy. This edition has won the admiration of all our artists; and the duchess, not content with its present illustrations, has gone to Mantua, taking with her another excellent landscape-painter, our fellow-citizen, Signor Fantuzzi, to make a sketch of Pietole, to be added to the other plates, which already adorn this splendid work of art.”

In August, 1823, died the venerable Pope Pius VII. The desire, which, on his return from captivity, he expressed to secure Mezzofanti’s services in his own capital, had been repeated subsequently on more than one occasion. The new Pope, Leo XII., regarded him with equal favour; but his attachment to home still remained unchanged; and the Pope named him, in 1824, a member of the Collegio dei consultori at Bologna.

Of his correspondence during this year no portion has come into my hands; but there is one of his letters of 1825, (dated April 8th,) which, although it is but an answer to a commonplace letter written to him by Cavedoni, with the catalogue of an expected sale of books, seems worthy to be preserved, at least as an indication of the direction and progress of his studies.

“It is always difficult,” he writes, “to fix the fair price of a class of books which either are not in the market at all, or which appear but seldom for sale, chiefly because there are but few who seek for such publications. In my case, it becomes almost impossible to determine it, as I have no opportunity of seeing the books, and very little leisure even to examine the catalogue, being obliged to return it in so short a time.“I only venture, therefore, to select a few, which I should be disposed to take, provided the price of all together shall not exceed forty Roman crowns. Try to make a bargain for me, or at all events, endeavour to prevent the books from being either scattered or buried in some inaccessible corner.“I should wish then to take the following:—The ‘nine MSS., either extracted from printed books, or of uncertain value.’The ‘Grammatica Japonica,’ Romæ No. 22, in the Catalogue.The ‘Grammatica Marasta,’[409]number 32.The ‘Grammatica Linguæ Amharicæ,’[410]number 43.The ‘Osservazioni sulla Lingua albanese,’ number 44.The ‘Grammatica Damulica,’[411]number 46.Benjamin Schulz’s, ‘Grammatica Hindostanica,’ number 50.‘Chilidugu; sive ses Chilenses,’[412]number 67.And the ‘Catecismo en Lengua Española y Moxa,’[413]No 71.I shall await your reply.”

“I only venture, therefore, to select a few, which I should be disposed to take, provided the price of all together shall not exceed forty Roman crowns. Try to make a bargain for me, or at all events, endeavour to prevent the books from being either scattered or buried in some inaccessible corner.

“I should wish then to take the following:—

The ‘nine MSS., either extracted from printed books, or of uncertain value.’

The ‘Grammatica Japonica,’ Romæ No. 22, in the Catalogue.

The ‘Grammatica Marasta,’[409]number 32.

The ‘Grammatica Linguæ Amharicæ,’[410]number 43.

The ‘Osservazioni sulla Lingua albanese,’ number 44.

The ‘Grammatica Damulica,’[411]number 46.

Benjamin Schulz’s, ‘Grammatica Hindostanica,’ number 50.

‘Chilidugu; sive ses Chilenses,’[412]number 67.

And the ‘Catecismo en Lengua Española y Moxa,’[413]No 71.

I shall await your reply.”

Only one of these works, the “Observations on the Albanese Language,” (by Francis Maria da Lecce,)appears in the catalogue of Mezzofanti’s Library. Benjamin Schulz’s Tamul Bible and New Testament, are both in that catalogue, but not his Hindostani Grammar. Probably the price of the books exceeded the very modest limit which Mezzofanti’s humble means compelled him to fix.

In the August of 1825, he had a visit from the veteran philologist andliterateur, Frederic Jacobs, of Gotha. The report of Jacobs may be considered of special importance, as he had been prepared, by the doubts expressed as to the credibility of Baron Von Zach’s report, to scrutinize with some jealousy the real extent of the attainments thus glowingly described. It is important, therefore, to note that after quoting all the most material portions of Von Zach’s narrative, he fully confirms it from his own observations—

“I was most kindly received by him,” says Dr. Jacobs: “we spoke in German for above an hour, so that I had full opportunity for observing the facility with which he spoke; his conversation was animated, his vocabulary select and appropriate, his pronunciation by no means foreign, and I could detect nothing but here and there a little of the North German accent. He was not unacquainted with German literature, spoke among other things of Voss’s services in the theory of metre, and made some observations on the imitation of the metrical system of the ancients. His opinions were precise and expressed without dogmatism. This fault, so common among persons of talent, appears quite foreign to him, and there is not a trace of charlatanism about him.”

As a somewhat different opinion has been expressed by others, the reader will observe the testimony borne by Jacobs, not only to Mezzofanti’s scholarship and philological attainments in a department but little cultivated, but also to the “selectness and appropriateness”of his German vocabulary, the “facility with which he spoke,” and the general purity and correctness of his conversational style.

He proceeds to describe another peculiarity of Mezzofanti’s extraordinary faculty which is equally deserving of notice, but which no other visitor whom we have hitherto seen, has brought out so strongly.

“Not less remarkable are the ease and readiness with which he passes in conversation from one language to another, from the north to the south, from the east to the west, and the dexterity with which he speaks several of the most difficult together, without the least seeming effort; and whereas, in cognate languages, the slightest difference creates confusion;—so that, for instance the German in Holland or the Dutchman in Germany, often mixes the sister and mother tongues so as to become unintelligible;—Mezzofanti ever draws the line most sharply, and his path in each realm of languages is uniformly firm and secure.”

We may also add Professor Jacobs’ description of the personal appearance of the great linguist at this period of his life.

“Mezzofanti,” he says, “is of the middle size, or rather below it; he is thin and pale, and his whole appearance indicates delicacy. He appears to be between fifty and sixty years old [he was really, in 1825, fifty-one]; his movements are easy and unembarrassed; his whole bearing is that of a man who has mixed much in society. He is active and zealous in the discharge of his duties, and never fails to celebrate mass every day.”[414]

I have thought it necessary to draw the reader’s attention to these points, in reference to Mezzofanti’s German, in order that he may compare them with the observations of Dr. Tholuck, Chevalier Bunsen, Guido Görres, and other distinguished Germans, who visited him at a later period.

All his later letters to the Abate Cavedoni, which are filled with apologies for his tardiness as a correspondent, tell the same story of ceaseless occupation.

“A Franciscan friar of the Bosnian province,” he writes, November 23rd, 1825, “who has been learning Turkish with me for the purposes of his mission in Bosnia, being on his way to Modena, has called to inquire whether I have any occasion to write to that city. The remorse which I feel at not having written to you for so long a time, makes it impossible for me to give a denial; and I write this letter, into which I wish I could crowd all the expressions of gratitude which I owe to you for your constant and faithful remembrance of one, who, although he certainly never forgets you, yet rarely gives you, at least in writing, the smallest evidence of his remembrance.The truth is that I should only be too happy to do so, and that it would seem to me but a renewal of the pleasant literary discussions which we used to hold with one another here. But unfortunately, I am too much occupied to indulge myself with this relaxation. I say this, however, only to excuse myself; for I assure you that I look eagerly for letters from you, and that it is a great comfort to me to receive one.As regards those words terminating initewhich are now commonly used by medical writers, although their formation is not grammatically exact, and although they do not precisely correspond with those which were employed by the ancients, yet as they have now obtained general currency, it would be hyper-critical and useless to seek to reform them. You may satisfy grammarians by a brief annotation to show that you do not overlook what is due to their art—I mean of course Greek grammarians; for I suppose our own grammarians will perhaps prefer the termination which has been sanctioned by use, and which may possibly appear to them less disagreeable. You see that I am but repeating your own opinion, and if I did not write sooner to you on the subject, it was because my own judgment fully agreed with what you had expressed in your letter.I congratulate you on the success of your brother’s studies. I have been much gratified by the learning, the industry, and the zeal for religion, which he has displayed. Offer him my best thanks.Remember me in your prayers: write to me, and believe me unchangingly yours.”

The truth is that I should only be too happy to do so, and that it would seem to me but a renewal of the pleasant literary discussions which we used to hold with one another here. But unfortunately, I am too much occupied to indulge myself with this relaxation. I say this, however, only to excuse myself; for I assure you that I look eagerly for letters from you, and that it is a great comfort to me to receive one.

As regards those words terminating initewhich are now commonly used by medical writers, although their formation is not grammatically exact, and although they do not precisely correspond with those which were employed by the ancients, yet as they have now obtained general currency, it would be hyper-critical and useless to seek to reform them. You may satisfy grammarians by a brief annotation to show that you do not overlook what is due to their art—I mean of course Greek grammarians; for I suppose our own grammarians will perhaps prefer the termination which has been sanctioned by use, and which may possibly appear to them less disagreeable. You see that I am but repeating your own opinion, and if I did not write sooner to you on the subject, it was because my own judgment fully agreed with what you had expressed in your letter.

I congratulate you on the success of your brother’s studies. I have been much gratified by the learning, the industry, and the zeal for religion, which he has displayed. Offer him my best thanks.

Remember me in your prayers: write to me, and believe me unchangingly yours.”

The same regrets are still more strikingly expressed in the following letter.

“I have been wishing, for several days past, to write and thank you heartily for your kindness towards me, but it is only this day that I have been able to steal a moment for the purpose. Be assured that I do not forget how patiently you bore with me, while, in the midst of the thousand distractions to which I was liable, we were reading together the Greek and Oriental languages. If I recall to your recollection the manner of my life at that time, and the ever recurring interruptions of my studies, it is only for the purpose of letting you see that, as the same state of things still continues, or rather has been changed for the worse, I have not time to show my gratitude for your constant remembrance of me. Still I thank you from my heart for it.I have not been able to read much of your Tasso, but I have observed some readings which appear to me very happy. I told Count Valdrighi, that I intended to write to you about the volume which Monsignor Mai has just published, to request that you, or some others of your friends in Modena, would take copies of it, as I have some to dispose of. I have since learned that you are already supplied. I beg, nevertheless, that you will take some public occasion to recommend it. I would do so willingly myself, but I cannot find a single free moment. The library, my professorship, my private lectures, the examination of books, the visits of strangers, the attendance on sick or dying foreigners, do not leave me time to breathe. In all this I possess one singular advantage—the excellent health with which I am blessed. But on the other hand, I am losing, or indeed I have already lost, my habit of application; and now, if I am called from time to time to do anything, I find myself reduced to the necessity of improvising.Forgive me, my dear Don Celestino, for entering thus minutely into my own affairs. Set it down to the account of our friendship, in the name of which I beg of you to remember me in your prayers. Continue to write to me as of old; for, in the midst of my heaviest occupations, I receive your letters with thegreatest pleasure, and find a real enjoyment in them, and in the reminiscences which they bring with them of the happiness that I formerly enjoyed in your dear society.My sister and my nephews present their most cordial greetings.Bologna, March, 27, 1826.”

I have not been able to read much of your Tasso, but I have observed some readings which appear to me very happy. I told Count Valdrighi, that I intended to write to you about the volume which Monsignor Mai has just published, to request that you, or some others of your friends in Modena, would take copies of it, as I have some to dispose of. I have since learned that you are already supplied. I beg, nevertheless, that you will take some public occasion to recommend it. I would do so willingly myself, but I cannot find a single free moment. The library, my professorship, my private lectures, the examination of books, the visits of strangers, the attendance on sick or dying foreigners, do not leave me time to breathe. In all this I possess one singular advantage—the excellent health with which I am blessed. But on the other hand, I am losing, or indeed I have already lost, my habit of application; and now, if I am called from time to time to do anything, I find myself reduced to the necessity of improvising.

Forgive me, my dear Don Celestino, for entering thus minutely into my own affairs. Set it down to the account of our friendship, in the name of which I beg of you to remember me in your prayers. Continue to write to me as of old; for, in the midst of my heaviest occupations, I receive your letters with thegreatest pleasure, and find a real enjoyment in them, and in the reminiscences which they bring with them of the happiness that I formerly enjoyed in your dear society.

My sister and my nephews present their most cordial greetings.

Bologna, March, 27, 1826.”

It is about this time that we may date the commencement of that intimacy between Mezzofanti and Cardinal Cappellari, afterwards Pope Gregory XVI., which eventually led to Mezzofanti’s removal from Bologna to Rome. Cappellari, a distinguished monk of the Camaldolese order, was named to the cardinalate early in 1826; and soon afterwards was placed at the head of the congregation of the Propaganda. Being himself an orientalist of considerable eminence, he had long admired the wonderful gifts of Mezzofanti, and a circumstance occurred soon after his nomination as prefect of the Propaganda, which led to a correspondence between them, in reference to an oriental liturgical manuscript on which the opinion of the great linguist was desired. Cardinal Cappellari forwarded the MS. to Mezzofanti, who in a short time returned it, not merely with an explanation, but with a complete Latin translation. The Cardinal was so grateful for this service, that he wrote to thank the translator, accompanying his letter with a draft for a hundred doubloons. Mezzofanti, with a disinterestedness which his notoriously straitened means made still more honourable, at once wrote to return the draft, with a request that it should be applied to the purposes of the missions of the Propaganda.[415]

This appeal from Cardinal Cappellari was not a solitary one. Mezzofanti was not unfrequently consulted in the same way, sometimes on critical or bibliographical questions, sometimes as to the character or contents of a book or MS. in some unknown language. One of his letters to the abate Cavedoni is a long account of an early Latin version of two of St. Gregory Nazianzen’s minor spiritual poems, the “Tetrasticha” and the “Monosticha.” As this letter (although not without interest as being the only specimen of his critical writings which I have been able to obtain) would have little attraction for the general reader, and throws but little light upon the narrative, it is unnecessary to translate it.[416]There is another letter, however, of nearly the same period, addressed to his friend count Valdrighi of Modena, on the subject of a MS. in the Birman language submitted by the count for his examination, which will be read with more curiosity.

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