Accordingly, after all these months of delay, I return you your Birmese MS. written on the leaves of the Ole palm. It has most probably found its way to Italy through some missionary, and perhaps was written by a missionary. This, however, will likely be discoverable from the facts which are known as to the place whence it came.
The information which I am able to give is, you see, very little compared with what you might have expected, and bears a still smaller proportion to my desire to oblige you. I should have wished to translate it all for you, had it been in my power, if it were only as a means of expressing my gratitude and my homage to one from whom I receive so many kindnesses, and to whom I am indebted for so many charming books, either composed or illustrated by himself. For all these favours it only remains for me to offer you my most unbounded thanks. I trust that, if you should chance to honour me again with any commission, I shall be able to execute it more successfully, or at all events more satisfactorily. I will at least promise not to delay as I have now done, in the hope of obtaining more information; but, relying that your kindness will lead you to accept what little explanation I shall be able to afford from myself, I will at least endeavour to show my anxious wish to oblige by the promptness of my reply.”
Neither Carey’s Birman Grammar, nor any other modern book on the subject, appears in the catalogue of Mezzofanti’s library. It comprises, however, a few Birman books, amongst which are the two alphabets referred to in the above letter, a translation of Bellarmine’s “Doctrina Christiana,” and an “Explanation of the Catechism for the use of the Birmese.” These books (all printed at the Propaganda press) appear to have been procured after his removal to Rome, where by private study and by intercourse with a few Birmese students in the Propaganda, he acquired the language, as we shall see, sufficiently for the purposes of conversation.
CHAPTER VIII.
[1828-1830.]
In the year 1828, the Crown Prince of Prussia, (now King Frederic William,) while passing through Bologna, on his way to Rome, sought an interview with Mezzofanti. In common with all other visitors, he was struck with wonder at the marvellous variety and accuracy of his knowledge of languages. On his arrival at Rome, he spoke admiringly of this interview to Dr. Tholuck, the present distinguished professor of Theology at Halle, (at that time chaplain of the Prussian Embassy in Rome,) who has kindly communicated the particulars to me. “The prince urged me,” says Dr. Tholuck, in an exceedingly interesting letter which shall be inserted later, “not to leave Italy without having seen him. ‘He is truly a miracle,’ exclaimed the prince; ‘he spoke German with me, like a German; with my Privy-Councillor Ancillon, he spoke the purest French; with Bunsen, English; with General Gröben, Swedish.’ ‘And what is still more wonderful,’ subjoined M. Bunsen, then minister resident in Rome, ‘all these languages he has learnt by books alone, without any teacher.’” This opinion of M. Bunsen’s, Dr. Tholuck afterwards ascertained to be a mistake, or at least an exaggeration.
It was doubtless to the lessons of his early master, Father Thiulen, that he owed the knowledge of Swedish which enabled him to converse with General Gröben. A still more distinct evidence of his familiarity with it occurred on occasion of the visit of the Crown Prince (now King) Oscar of Sweden to Bologna. M. Braunerhjelm, now Hof-Stallmastäre at Stockholm, who was present at the prince’s interview with Mezzofanti, assured Mr. Wackerbarth, who was good enough to make the inquiry for me last year, that “the abate spoke the language quite perfectly.” According to another account which I have received, the prince, having suddenly changed the conversation into a dialect peculiar to one of the provinces of Sweden, Mezzofanti was obliged to confess his inability to understand him. What was his amazement, in a subsequent interview, to hear Mezzofanti address him in this very dialect!
“From whom, in the name of all that is wonderful, have you learnt it?” exclaimed the prince.
“From your Royal Highness,” replied Mezzofanti. “Your conversation yesterday supplied me with a key to all that is peculiar in its forms, and I am merely translating the common words into this form.”
The Countess of Blessington, in the third volume of her “Idler in Italy,” has given an account of her intercourse with Mezzofanti during this year. She adds but little to the facts already known as to Mezzofanti’s linguistic attainments; but it may not be uninteresting to contrast with the ponderous and matter of fact sketches of the professional scholars whom we have hitherto been considering, the lighter, but in many respects more striking portraiture of a lady visitor, less capable of estimating the solidity of his learning, but more alive to the minor peculiarities of his manner, to the more delicate shades of his character and disposition, and to the thousand minuter specialities, which, after all, go to form our idea of the man.