This excursion to America suggested to me the idea of putting a new question to him. I had collected at Florence, particularly with relation to bibliography, several translations of the whole Bible, or certain portions of the sacred books, in different foreign languages. Some of these translations were into languages spoken by North American savages; and in looking through them I had been struck with the measureless length[435] of most of the words of these tongues. Since the opportunity presented itself naturally, I asked M. Mezzofanti what he thought of those words, and whether the men who spoke languages apparently so calculated to put one out of breath, did not seem to be endowed with peculiar organs. Immediately taking down a book written in one of those languages, the celebrated linguist showed me practically how, in his opinion, the savages managed to pronounce these interminable words, without too much trouble. For fear of making mistakes, I cannot venture, after twenty-five years, to reproduce this explanation from memory. According to my usual practice, I had written out, on my return home, the conversation which I had just had with the celebrated linguist, and if I still possessed that part of my journal you would find there almost the exact words of the Abbé Mezzofanti; but those papers having been taken away from me by people who, under a pretext as ridiculous as odious, despoiled me, after the revolution of 1848, of all that I possessed at Paris, I must confine myself to mentioning the fact of the explanation which was given to me, without being able to tell you in what that explanation consisted.
After what I have just recounted to you, I could add nothing to express to you the opinion which that long conversation with M. Mezzofanti (which during the few days that I passed at Bologna was followed by some other interviews much shorter, and as it were fugitive,) left in my mind on the subject of the erudition, as profound as it was various, of that universal linguist. As, however, I express here an opinion which certainly was not that of everybody, permit me to corroborate that opinion by the testimony of Giordani, a man not only celebrated in Italy for the admirable purity of his style, but who also enjoyed deserved reputation as a profound Grecian, and a consummate Latin scholar. The testimony of Giordani on the subject of the Abbé Mezzofanti is the more remarkable, because, besides Giordani’s having (as is generally known) a marked antipathy for the ultra-catholic party to which Mezzofanti was thought to belong, he and the Abbé had had some little personal quarrels the remembrance of which was not effaced. Notwithstanding this, I read in the letters of Giordani lately published at Milan, that, in his opinion, Mezzofanti was quite a superior man.”
M. Libri[436] proceeds to cite several passages from Giordani’s letters, which, as I have already quoted them in their proper place, it is needless to repeat here. Indeed no additional testimony could add weight to his own authority on any of the subjects to which he refers in this most interesting letter.
Soon after this interview, the quiet of Mezzofanti’s life was interrupted for a time. The Revolution of Paris in July, 1830, and the events in Belgium and Poland by which it was rapidly followed, were not slow to provoke a response in Italy. The long repressed hopes of the republican party were thus suddenly realised, and the organization of the secret societies became at once more active and more extended. For a time the prudent and moderate policy adopted by Pius VIII. in reference to the events in France, had the effect of defeating the measures of the Italian revolutionists; but his death on the thirtieth of November in that year, appeared to afford a favourable opportunity for their attempt. During the conclave for the election of his successor, all the preparations were made. The stroke was sudden and rapid. The very day after the election of Gregory XVI., but before the news had been transmitted from Rome, an outbreak took place at Modena. It was followed, on the next day, by a similar proceeding at Bologna,—by the calling out of a national guard, and the proclamation of a provisional government. The Papal delegate was expelled from Bologna. The Duke of Modena fled to Mantua. Maria Louisa, Duchess of Parma, took refuge in France. And on the 26th of the same month, deputies from all the revolted states, by a joint instrument, proclaimed the United Republic of Italy!
This success, however, was as short-lived as it had been rapid. The duke of Modena was reinstated by the arms of Austria on the 9th of March. Order was restored about the same date at Parma: and, before the end of the month of March, all traces of the revolutionary movement had for the time disappeared throughout the States of the Church.[437]
It has been customary for the cities and communi of the Papal States on the accession of each new Pontiff, to send a deputation of their most notable citizens to offer their homage and present their congratulations at the foot of the throne. Many of the chief cities had already complied with the established usage.[438] Bologna, restored to a calmer mind, now hastened to follow the example. Three delegates were deputed for the purpose—the Marchese Zambeccari, Count Lewis Isolani, and the abate Mezzofanti. They arrived in Rome in the beginning of May,[439] and on the 9th of the same month, were admitted to an audience of the Pope, who received them with great kindness, and inquired anxiously into the condition of Bologna, and the grievances which had given occasion to the recent discontents.
To Mezzofanti in particular the Pope showed marked attention. It had been one of his requests to Cardinal Opizzoni, the archbishop, when returning to Bologna on the suppression of the Revolution, that he should send Professor Mezzofanti to visit him. He still remembered the disinterestedness which the professor had shewn in their first correspondence; and the time had now come when it was in his power to make some acknowledgment. A few days after Mezzofanti’s arrival he was named domestic prelate and proto-notary apostolic, and at his final audience before returning to Bologna, the pope renewed in person the invitation to settle permanently in Rome, which had formerly been made to him by Cardinal Consalvi on the part of Pius VII. Mezzofanti was still as happy in his humble position as he had been in 1815. He still retained his early love for his native city and for the friends among whom he had now begun to grow old. But to persist farther would be ungracious. He could no longer be insensible to a wish so flattering and so earnestly enforced. It was not, however, until, as the Pope himself declared, “after a long siege,” (veramente un assedio) that he finally acquiesced;—overpowered, as it would seem, by that genuine and unaffected cordiality which was the great characteristic of the good Pope Gregory XVI.
“Holy Father,” was his singularly graceful acknowledgment of the kind interest which the Pope had manifested in his regard, “people say that I can speak a great many languages. In no one of them, nor in them all, can I find words to express how deeply I feel this mark of your Holiness’s regard.”
It is hardly necessary to say that one of the very first visits which he paid in Rome, was to the Propaganda. On the morning after his arrival, the feast, as it would seem, of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, he went to the sacristy with the intention of saying mass; and having, with his habitual retiringness, knelt down to say the usual preparatory prayers without making himself known, he remained for a considerable time unobserved and therefore neglected. He was at length recognised by Dr. Cullen, the present archbishop of Dublin, (at that time professor of Scripture in the Propaganda,) who at once procured for the distinguished stranger the attention which he justly deserved in such an institution. It is a pleasing illustration, at once of the retentiveness of his memory and of the simple kindliness of his disposition, that in an interview with Dr. Cullen not very long before his death, he reminded him of this circumstance, and renewed his thanks even for so trifling a service. After mass, he made his way, unattended, to one of the camerate, or corridors. The first room which he chanced to meet was that of a Turkish student, named Hassun, now archbishop of the United Greek Church at Constantinople. He at once entered into conversation with Hassun in Turkish. This he speedily changed to Romaic with a youth named Musabini, who is now the Catholic Greek bishop at Smyrna. From Greek he turned to English, on the approach of Dr. O’Connor, an Irish student, now bishop of Pittsburgh in the United States. As the unwonted sounds began to attract attention, the students poured in, one by one, each in succession to find himself greeted in his native tongue; till at length, the bell being rung, the entire community assembled, and gave full scope to the wonderful quickness and variety of his accomplishment. Dr. O’Connor describes it as the most extraordinary scene he has ever witnessed; and he adds a further very remarkable circumstance that, during the many new visits which Mezzofanti paid to the Propaganda afterwards, he never once forgot the language of any student with whom he had spoken on this occasion, nor once failed to address him in his native tongue.
The deputation returned to Bologna in the end of June. Mezzofanti accompanied it, but only for the purpose of making arrangements for his permanent change of residence.