August 8, 1827. *


[304] Robert Hall.


AN INFERNAL PALINDROME.

[Palindrome. A word or sentence which is the same read backward as forwards: as, madam; or this sentence Subi dura a rudibus. Johnson.]

Whence did Geoffry Crayon derive “The Poor Devil Author,” the title to one of his “Tales of a Traveller,” but from a legendary story, according to which the devil is acquainted with versification, although his lines are constructed in a very remarkable manner; for they can be read forward and backward, and preserve the same sense. There is a specimen of this “[literary ingenuity]” in the present volume of the Table Book, ([col. 28].) The “Lives of the Saints” afford another, viz:—

St. Martin (of whom there is an account in the Every-Day Book, vol. i. p. 1469) having given up the profession of a soldier, and being elected bishop of Tours, when prelates neither kept carriages, horses, nor servants, had occasion to go to Rome, in order to consult his holiness upon some important ecclesiastical matter. As he was walking gently along the road, he met the devil, who politely accosted him, and ventured to observe how fatiguing and indecorous it was for him to perform so long a journey on foot, like the commonest of cockle-shell-chaperoned pilgrims. The saint knew well the drift of Old Nick’s address, and commanded him immediately to become a beast of burthen, or jumentum; which the devil did in a twinkling, by assuming the shape of a mule. The saint jumped upon the fiend’s back, who, at first, trotted cheerfully along, but soon slackened his pace. The bishop, of course, had neither whip nor spurs, but was possessed of a much more powerful stimulus, for, says the legend, he made the sign of the cross, and the smarting devil instantly galloped away. Soon, however, and naturally enough, the father of sin returned to sloth and obstinacy, and Martin hurried him again with repeated signs of the cross, till twitched and stung to the quick by those crossings so hateful to him, the vexed and tired reprobate uttered the following distich in a rage:—

Signa te, Signa: temere me tangis et angis:
Roma tibi subito motibus ibit amor.

That is—“Cross, cross thyself—thou plaguest and vexest me without necessity; for, owing to my exertions, Rome, the object of thy wishes, will soon be near.” The singularity of this distich, consists, as hinted above, in its being palindromical; or it reads backwards as well as in the common way—Angis, the last word of the first line, makes signaet makes te—and so on to the beginning. Amor, the last of the last line, read backwards, makes Romaibit makes tibi—and so forth.