Unum de innumeris hoc mihi vix superest,
Mittimus hoc unum interea. Exiguum accipe donum
Eternæ veteris pignus amicitiæ.
Any one who has ever tried to turn a verse in any foreign tongue, will agree with me in regarding the rapidity with which these trifles were written, as one of the most curious evidences of the writer’s mastery over the many languages in which he is known to have indulged this fancy. The really pretty Dutch verses—verses as graceful in sentiment as they are elegant in language—in reply to Dr. Wap’s address, were penned in Dr. Wap’s presence and with great rapidity. Father Legrelle’s Flemish verses were dashed off with equal quickness. The American of whom I spoke told me that the Cardinal wrote almost without a moment’s thought. It was the same for the lady mentioned by Dr. Wap, although the subject of these verses arose during the interview; and even the Persian stanza which he wrote for Dr. Tholuck, and which “contained several pretty ἐνθυμήσεις,” cost him only about half an hour! How many of those who consider themselves most perfect in French, Italian, or German, have ever ventured even upon a single line of poetry in any of them?
I must not omit another circumstance which I myself observed, and which struck me forcibly as illustrating the singular nicety of his ear, and still more the completeness with which he threw himself into all the details of every language which he cultivated;—I mean his manner and accent in pronouncing Latin in conversation with natives of different countries. One day I was speaking to him in company with Guido Görres, when he had occasion to quote to me Horace’s line.
Si paulum a summo decessit, vergit ad imum:—
which he pronounced quite as I should have pronounced it, and without any of the peculiarities of Italian pronunciation. He turned at once to Görres, and added—
“Or, as you would say:
Si powlum a soommo detsessit, verghit ad imum,”
introducing into it every single characteristic of the German manner of pronouncing the Latin language. I have heard the same from other foreigners. It was amusing, too, to observe that he had taken the trouble to note and to acquire the peculiar expletive or interjectional sounds, with which, as it is well known, natives of different countries unconsciously interlard their conversation, and the absence or misuse of which will sometimes serve to discover the foreign origin of one who seems to speak a language with every refinement of correctness.[530] The Englishman’s “ah!” the Frenchman’s “oh!” the whistling interjection of the Neapolitan, the grunt of the Turk, the Spaniard’s nasal twang—were all at his command.