Audet in historiâ—
has selected as the type of self-convicted mendacity—the passage of Xerxes’s fleet through Mount Athos—now proves to be not only possible, but absolutely true; and it is wisely observed by Mr. Grote, that, while no amount of mere intrinsic probability is sufficient to establish the truth of an unattested statement, on the other hand, “statements in themselves highly improbable may well deserve belief, provided they be supported by sufficient positive evidence.” (Hist. of Greece, I. 571.)
There are two heads of inquiry which appear to me specially deserving of attention.
First, the number of languages with which Cardinal Mezzofanti was acquainted, and the degree of his proficiency in each.
Secondly, his method of studying languages, and the peculiar mental development to which his extraordinary success as a linguist is attributable.
I.—I wish I could begin, in accordance with a suggestion of my friend M. d’Abbadie, by defining exactly what is meant by knowledge of a language. But unfortunately, the shades of such knowledge are almost infinite. The vocabularies of our modern languages contain as many as forty or fifty thousand words; and Claude Chappe, the inventor of the telegraph, calculates, that for the complete expression of human thought and sentiment in all its forms, at least ten thousand words are necessary. On the other hand, M. d’Abbadie, in his explorations in Abyssinia, was able to make his way without an interpreter, though his vocabulary did not comprise quite six hundred words; and M. Julien, in his controversy with Pauthier, asserts that about four thousand words will amply suffice even for the study of the great classics of a language, as Homer, Byron, or Racine.
Which of these standards are we to adopt?
And even if we fix upon any one of them, how shall we apply it to the Cardinal, whereas we can only judge of him by the reports of his visitors, who applied to him, each a standard of his own?
It is plain that any such strict philosophical notion, however desirable, would be inapplicable in practice. It appears to me, however, that the objects of this inquiry will be sufficiently attained by adopting a popular notion, founded upon the common estimation of mankind. I think a man may be truly said to know a language thoroughly, if he can read it fluently and with ease; if he can write it correctly in prose, or still more, in verse; and above all, if he be admitted by intelligent and educated natives to speak it correctly and idiomatically.