all the _speciosa miracula_ of caligraphy;

Thy _tender strokes_, inimitably fine, Crown with perfection every _flowing line_; And to each _grand performance_ add a grace, As _curling hair_ adorns a beauteous face: In every page _new fancies_ give delight, And _sporting round the margin_ charm the sight.

One Ma.s.sey, a writing-master, published in 1763, "The Origin and Progress of Letters." The great singularity of this volume is "a new species of biography never attempted before in English." This consists of the lives of "English Penmen," otherwise writing-masters! If some have foolishly enough imagined that the sedentary lives of authors are void of interest from deficient incident and interesting catastrophe, what must they think of the barren labours of those who, in the degree they become eminent, to use their own style, in the art of "dish, dash, long-tail fly," the less they become interesting to the public; for what can the most skilful writing-master do but wear away his life in leaning over his pupil's copy, or sometimes s.n.a.t.c.h a pen to decorate the margin, though he cannot compose the page? Montaigne has a very original notion on writing-masters: he says that some of those caligraphers who had obtained promotion by their excellence in the art, afterwards _affected to write carelessly, lest their promotion should be suspected to have been owing to such an ordinary acquisition_!

Ma.s.sey is an enthusiast, fortunately for his subject. He considers that there are _schools of writing_, as well as of painting or sculpture; and expatiates with the eye of fraternal feeling on "a natural genius, a tender stroke, a grand performance, a bold striking freedom, and a liveliness in the sprigged letters, and pencilled knots and flourishes;"

while this Vasari of writing-masters relates the controversies and the libels of many a rival pen-nibber. "George Sh.e.l.ley, one of the most celebrated worthies who have made a shining figure in the commonwealth of English caligraphy, born I suppose of obscure parents, because brought up in Christ's Hospital, yet under the humble blue-coat he laid the foundation of his caligraphic excellence and lasting fame, for he was elected writing-master to the hospital." Sh.e.l.ley published his "Natural Writing;" but, alas! Snell, another blue-coat, transcended the other. He was a genius who would "bear no brother near the throne."--"I have been informed that there were jealous heart-burnings, if not bickerings, between him and Col. Ayres, another of our _great reformers_ in the writing commonweal, both eminent men, yet, _like_ our most celebrated poets _Pope and Addison_, or, to carry the comparison still higher, like _Caesar and Pompey_, one could bear no superior, and the other no equal." Indeed, the great Snell practised a little stratagem against Mr. Sh.e.l.ley, for which, if writing-masters held courts-martial, this hero ought to have appeared before his brothers. In one of his works he procured a number of friends to write letters, in which Ma.s.sey confesses "are some satyrical strokes upon Sh.e.l.ley," as if he had arrogated too much to himself in his book of "Natural Writing." They find great fault with pencilled knots and sprigged letters. Sh.e.l.ley, who was an advocate for ornaments in fine penmanship, which Snell utterly rejected, had parodied a well-known line of Herbert's in favour of his favourite decorations:--

A _Knot_ may take him who from _letters_ flies, And turn _delight_ into an _exercise_.

These reflections created ill-blood, and even an open difference amongst several of the _superior artists in writing_. The commanding genius of Snell had a more terrific contest when he published his "Standard Rules," pretending to have _demonstrated_ them as Euclid would. "This proved a bone of contention, and occasioned a terrific quarrel between Mr. Snell and Mr. Clark. This quarrel about 'Standard Rules' ran so high between them, that they could scarce forbear _scurrilous language_ therein, and a treatment of each other unbecoming _gentlemen_! Both sides in this dispute had their abettors; and to say which had the most truth and reason, _non nostrum est tantas componere lites_; perhaps _both parties might be too fond of their own schemes_. They should have left them to people to choose which they liked best." A candid politician is our Ma.s.sey, and a philosophical historian too; for he winds up the whole story of this civil war by describing its result, which happened as all such great controversies have ever closed. "Who now-a-days takes those _Standard Rules_, either one or the other, for their _guide_ in writing?" This is the finest lesson ever offered to the furious heads of parties, and to all their men; let them meditate on the nothingness of their "Standard Rules," by the fate of Mr. Snell.

It was to be expected, when once these writing-masters imagined that they were artists, that they would be infected with those plague-spots of genius--envy, detraction, and all the _jalousie du metier_. And such to this hour we find them! An extraordinary scene of this nature has long been exhibited in my neighbourhood, where two doughty champions of the quill have been posting up libels in their windows respecting the inventor of _a new art of writing_, the Carstairian, or the Lewisian?

When the great German philosopher a.s.serted that he had discovered the method of fluxions before Sir Isaac, and when the dispute grew so violent that even the calm Newton sent a formal defiance in set terms, and got even George the Second to try to arbitrate (who would rather have undertaken a campaign), the method of fluxions was no more cleared up than the present affair between our two heroes of the quill.

A recent instance of one of these egregious caligraphers may be told of the late Tomkins. This vainest of writing-masters dreamed through life that penmanship was one of the fine arts, and that a writing-master should be seated with his peers in the Academy! He bequeathed to the British Museum his _opus magnum_--a copy of Macklin's Bible, profusely embellished with the most beautiful and varied decorations of his pen; and as he conceived that both the workman and the work would alike be darling objects with posterity, he left something immortal with the legacy, his fine bust, by Chantrey, unaccompanied by which they were not to receive the unparalleled gift! When Tomkins applied to have his bust, our great sculptor abated the usual price, and, courteously kind to the feelings of the man, said that he considered Tomkins as an artist! It was the proudest day of the life of our writing-master!

But an eminent artist and wit now living, once looking on this fine bust of Tomkins, declared, that "this man had died for want of a dinner!"--a fate, however, not so lamentable as it appeared! Our penman had long felt that he stood degraded in the scale of genius by not being received at the Academy, at least among the cla.s.s of _engravers_; the next approach to academic honour he conceived would be that of appearing as a _guest_ at their annual dinner. These invitations are as limited as they are select, and all the Academy persisted in considering Tomkins _as a writing-master_! Many a year pa.s.sed, every intrigue was practised, every remonstrance was urged, every stratagem of courtesy was tried; but never ceasing to deplore the failure of his hopes, it preyed on his spirits, and the luckless caligrapher went down to his grave--without dining at the Academy! This authentic anecdote has been considered as "satire improperly directed"--by some friend of Mr. Tomkins--but the criticism is much too grave! The foible of Mr. Tomkins as a writing-master presents a striking ill.u.s.tration of the cla.s.s of men here delineated. I am a mere historian--and am only responsible for the veracity of this fact. That "Mr. Tomkins lived in familiar intercourse with the Royal Academicians of his day, and was a frequent guest at their private tables," and moreover was a most worthy man, I believe--but is it less true that he was ridiculously mortified by being never invited to the Academic dinner, on account of his caligraphy? He had some reason to consider that his art was of the exalted cla.s.s to which he aspired to raise it, when this friend concludes his eulogy of this writing-master thus--"Mr. Tomkins, as an artist, stood foremost in his own profession, and his name will be handed down to posterity with the _Heroes_ and _Statesmen_, whose excellences his _penmanship_ has contributed to ill.u.s.trate and to commemorate." I always give the _Pour_ and the _Contre_!

Such men about such things have produced public contests, _combats a l'outrance_, where much ink was spilled by the knights in a joust of goose-quills; these solemn trials have often occurred in the history of writing-masters, which is enlivened by public defiances, proclamations, and judicial trials by umpires! The prize was usually a golden pen of some value. One as late as in the reign of Anne took place between Mr.

German and Mr. More. German having courteously insisted that Mr. More should set the copy, he thus set it, ingeniously quaint!

As more, and MORE, our understanding clears, So more and more our ignorance appears.

The result of this pen-combat was really lamentable; they displayed such an equality of excellence that the umpires refused to decide, till one of them espied that Mr. German had omitted the t.i.ttle of an i! But Mr.

More was evidently a man of genius, not only by his couplet, but in his "Essay on the Invention of Writing," where occurs this n.o.ble pa.s.sage: "Art with me is of no party. A n.o.ble emulation I would cherish, while it proceeded neither from, nor to malevolence. Bales had his Johnson, Norman his Mason, Ayres his Matlock and his Sh.e.l.ley; yet Art the while was no sufferer. The busybody who officiously employs himself in creating misunderstandings between artists, may be compared to a turn-stile, which stands in every man's way, yet hinders n.o.body; and he is the slanderer who gives ear to the slander."[109]

Among these knights of the "Plume volante," whose chivalric exploits astounded the beholders, must be distinguished Peter Bales in his joust with David Johnson. In this tilting-match the guerdon of caligraphy was won by the greatest of caligraphers; its _arms_ were a.s.sumed by the victor, _azure, a pen or_; while the "golden pen," carried away in triumph, was painted with a hand over the door of the caligrapher. The history of this renowned encounter was only traditionally known, till with my own eyes I pondered on this whole trial of skill in the precious ma.n.u.script of the champion himself; who, like Caesar, not only knew how to win victories, but also to record them. Peter Bales was a hero of such transcendent eminence, that his name has entered into our history.

Holinshed chronicles one of his curiosities of microscopic writing at a time when the taste prevailed for admiring writing which no eye could read! In the compa.s.s of a silver penny this caligrapher put more things than would fill several of these pages. He presented Queen Elizabeth with the ma.n.u.script set in a ring of gold covered with a crystal; he had also contrived a magnifying gla.s.s of such power, that, to her delight and wonder, her majesty read the whole volume, which she held on her thumb-nail, and "commended the same to the lords of the council and the amba.s.sadors;" and frequently, as Peter often heard, did her majesty vouchsafe to wear this caligraphic ring.[110]

"Some will think I labour on a cobweb"--modestly exclaimed Bales in his narrative, and his present historian much fears for himself! The reader's grat.i.tude will not be proportioned to my pains, in condensing such copious pages into the size of a "silver penny," but without its worth!

For a whole year had David Johnson affixed a challenge "To any one who should take exceptions to this my writing and teaching." He was a young friend of Bales, daring and longing for an encounter; yet Bales was magnanimously silent, till he discovered that he was "doing much less in writing and teaching" since this public challenge was proclaimed! He then set up his counter-challenge, and in one hour afterwards Johnson arrogantly accepted it, "in a most despiteful and disgraceful manner."

Bales's challenge was delivered "in good terms." "To all Englishmen and strangers." It was to write for a gold pen of twenty pounds value in all kinds of hands, "best, straightest, and fastest," and most kind of ways; "a full, a mean, a small, with line, and without line; in a slow set hand, a mean facile hand, and a fast running hand;" and further, "to write truest and speediest, most secretary and clerk-like, from a man's mouth, reading or p.r.o.nouncing, either English or Latin."

Young Johnson had the hardihood now of turning the tables on his great antagonist, accusing the veteran Bales of arrogance. Such an absolute challenge, says he, was never witnessed by man, "without exception of any in the world!" And a few days after meeting Bales, "of set purpose to affront and disgrace him what he could, showed Bales a piece of writing of secretary's hand, which he had very much laboured in fine abortive parchment,"[111] uttering to the challenger these words: "Mr.

Bales, give me one shilling out of your purse, and if within six months you better, or equal this piece of writing, I will give you forty pounds for it." This legal deposit of the shilling was made, and the challenger, or appellant, was thereby bound by law to the performance.

The day before the trial a printed declaration was affixed throughout the city, taunting Bales's "proud poverty," and his pecuniary motives, as "a thing ungentle, base, and mercenary, and not answerable to the dignity of the golden pen!" Johnson declares he would maintain his challenge for a thousand pounds more, but for the respondent's inability to perform a thousand groats. Bales retorts on the libel; declares it as a sign of his rival's weakness, "yet who so bold as blind Bayard, that hath not a word of Latin to cast at a dog, or say Bo! to a goose!"

On Michaelmas day, 1595, the trial opened before five judges: the appellant and the respondent appeared at the appointed place, and an ancient gentleman was intrusted with "the golden pen." In the first trial, for the manner of teaching scholars, after Johnson had taught his pupil a fortnight, he would not bring him forward! This was awarded in favour of Bales.

The second, for secretary and clerk-like writing, dictating to them both in English and in Latin, Bales performed best, being first done; written straightest without line, with true orthography: the challenger himself confessing that he wanted the Latin tongue, and was no clerk!

The third and last trial for fair writing in sundry kinds of hands, the challenger prevailed for the beauty and most "authentic proportion," and for the superior variety of the Roman hand. In the court hand the respondent exceeded the appellant, and likewise in the set text; and in b.a.s.t.a.r.d secretary was also somewhat perfecter.

At length Bales, perhaps perceiving an equilibrium in the judicial decision, to overwhelm his antagonist presented what he distinguishes as his "masterpiece," composed of secretary and Roman hand four ways varied, and offering the defendant to let pa.s.s all his previous advantages if he could better this specimen of caligraphy! The challenger was silent! At this moment some of the judges perceiving that the decision must go in favour of Bales, in consideration of the youth of the challenger, lest he might be disgraced to the world, requested the other judges not to pa.s.s judgment in public. Bales a.s.sures us, that he in vain remonstrated; for by these means the winning of the golden pen might not be so famously spread as otherwise it would have been. To Bales the prize was awarded. But our history has a more interesting close; the subtle Machiavelism of the first challenger!

When the great trial had closed, and Bales, carrying off the golden pen, exultingly had it painted and set up for his sign, the baffled challenger went about reporting that _he_ had _won_ the golden pen, but that the defendant had obtained the same by "plots and shifts, and other base and cunning practices." Bales vindicated his claim, and offered to show the world his "masterpiece" which had acquired it. Johnson issued an "Appeal to all Impartial Penmen," which he spread in great numbers through the city for ten days, a libel against the judges and the victorious defendant! He declared that there had been a subtle combination with one of the judges concerning the place of trial; which he expected to have been "before penmen," but not before a mult.i.tude like a stage-play, and shouts and tumults, with which the challenger had hitherto been unacquainted. The judges were intended to be twelve; but of the five, four were the challenger's friends, honest gentlemen, but unskilled in judging of most hands; and he offered again forty pounds to be allowed in six months to equal Bales's masterpiece. And he closes his "appeal" by declaring that Bales had lost in several parts of the trial, neither did the judges deny that Bales possessed himself of the golden pen by a trick! Before judgment was awarded, alleging the sickness of his wife to be extreme, he desired she might have _a sight of the golden pen to comfort her_! The ancient gentleman who was the holder, taking the defendant's word, allowed the golden pen to be carried to the sick wife; and Bales immediately p.a.w.ned it, and afterwards, to make sure work, sold it at a great loss, so that when the judges met for their definite sentence, nor pen nor pennyworth was to be had! The judges being ashamed of their own conduct, were compelled to give such a verdict as suited the occasion.

Bales rejoins: he publishes to the universe the day and the hour when the judges brought the golden pen to his house, and while he checks the insolence of this Bobadil, to show himself no recreant, a.s.sumes the golden pen for his sign.

Such is the shortest history I could contrive of this chivalry of the pen; something mysteriously clouds over the fate of the defendant; Bales's history, like Caesar's, is but an _ex-parte_ evidence. Who can tell whether he has not slurred over his defeats, and only dwelt on his victories?

There is a strange phrase connected with the art of the caligrapher, which I think may be found in most, if not in all modern languages, _to write like an angel_! Ladies have been frequently compared with angels; they are _beautiful_ as angels, and _sing_ and _dance_ like angels; but, however intelligible these are, we do not so easily connect penmanship with the other celestial accomplishments. This fanciful phrase, however, has a very human origin. Among those learned Greeks who emigrated to Italy, and afterwards into France, in the reign of Francis I., was one Angelo _Vergecio_, whose beautiful caligraphy excited the admiration of the learned. The French monarch had a Greek fount cast, modelled by his writing. The learned Henry Stephens, who, like our Porson for correctness and delicacy, was one of the most elegant writers of Greek, had learnt the practice from our _Angelo_. His name became synonymous for beautiful writing, and gave birth to the vulgar proverb or familiar phrase _to write like an angel_!

FOOTNOTES:

[109] I have not met with More's book, and am obliged to transcribe this from the Biog. Brit.

[110] Howes, in his Chronicle under date 1576, has thus narrated the story:--"A strange piece of work, and almost incredible, was brought to pa.s.s by an Englishman from within the city of London, and a clerk of the Chancery, named Peter Bales, who by his industry and practice of his pen contrived and writ, within the compa.s.s of a penny, the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the Ten Commandments, a prayer to G.o.d, a prayer for the queen, his posy, his name, the day of the month, the year of our Lord, and the reign of the queen: and at Hampton Court he presented the same to the queen's majesty."

[111] This was written in the reign of Elizabeth. Holyoke notices "virgin-perchment made of an _abortive skin; membrana virgo_."

Peacham, on "Drawing," calls parchment simply _an abortive_.

THE ITALIAN HISTORIANS.

It is remarkable that the country which has long lost its political independence may be considered as the true parent of modern history. The greater part of their historians have abstained from the applause of their contemporaries, while they have not the less elaborately composed their posthumous folios, consecrated solely to truth and posterity! The true principles of national glory are opened by the grandeur of the minds of these a.s.sertors of political freedom. It was their indignant spirit, seeking to console its injuries by confiding them to their secret ma.n.u.scripts, which raised up this singular phenomenon in the literary world.

Of the various causes which produced such a lofty race of patriots, one is prominent. The proud recollections of their Roman fathers often troubled the dreams of the sons. The petty rival republics, and the petty despotic princ.i.p.alities, which had started up from some great families, who at first came forward as the protectors of the people from their exterior enemies or their interior factions, at length settled into a corruption of power; a power which had been conferred on them to preserve liberty itself! These factions often shook, by their jealousies, their fears, and their hatreds, that divided land, which groaned whenever they witnessed the "Ultramontanes" descending from their Alps and their Apennines. Petrarch, in a n.o.ble invective, warmed by Livy and ancient Rome, impatiently beheld the French and the Germans pa.s.sing the mounts. "Enemies," he cries, "so often conquered prepare to strike with swords which formerly served us to raise our trophies: shall the mistress of the world bear chains forged by hands which she has so often bound to their backs?" Machiavel, in his "Exhortations to Free Italy from the Barbarians," rouses his country against their changeable masters, the Germans, the French, and the Spaniards; closing with the verse of Petrarch, that short shall be the battle for which virtue arms to show the world--

che l' antico valore Ne gl' Italici cuor non e ancor morto.

Nor has this sublime patriotism declined even in more recent times; I cannot resist from preserving in this place a sonnet by Filicaja, which I could never read without partic.i.p.ating in the agitation of the writer for the ancient glory of his degenerated country! The energetic personification of the close perhaps surpa.s.ses even his more celebrated sonnet, preserved in Lord Byron's notes to the fourth canto of "Childe Harold."

Dov' e ITALIA, il tuo braccio? e a che ti servi Tu dell' altrui? non e s' io scorgo il vero, Di chi t' offende il defensor men fero: Ambe nemici sono, ambo fur servi.

Cos dunque l' onor, cos conservi Gli avanzi tu del glorioso Impero?

Cosi al valor, cosi al valor primiero Che a te fede giur, la fede osservi?

Or va; repudia il valor prisco, e sposa L' ozio, e fra il sangue, i gemiti, e le strida Nel periglio maggior dormi e riposa!

Dormi, Adultera vil! fin che omicida Spada ultrice ti svegli, e sonnacchiosa, E nuda in braccio al tuo fedel t'uccida!

Oh, Italy! where is thine arm? What purpose serves So to be helped by others? Deem I right, Among offenders thy defender stands?

Both _are_ thy enemies--both _were_ thy servants!

Thus dost thou honour--thus dost thou preserve The mighty boundaries of the glorious empire?

And thus to Valour, to thy pristine Valour That swore its faith to thee, thy faith thou keep'st?

Go! and divorce thyself from thy old Valiance, And marry Idleness: and midst the blood, The heavy groans and cries of agony, In thy last danger sleep, and seek repose!

Sleep, vile Adulteress! the homicidal sword Vengeful shall waken thee! and lull'd to slumber, While naked in thy minion's arms, shall strike!

Among the domestic contests of Italy the true principles of political freedom were developed; and in that country we may find the origin of that PHILOSOPHICAL HISTORY which includes so many important views and so many new results unknown to the ancients.

Machiavel seems to have been the first writer who discovered the secret of what may be called _comparative history_. He it was who first sought in ancient history for the materials which were to ill.u.s.trate the events of his own times, by fixing on a.n.a.logous facts, similar personages, and parallel periods. This was enlarging the field of history, and opening a new combination for philosophical speculation. His profound genius advanced still further; he not only explained modern by ancient history, but he deduced those results or principles founded on this new sort of evidence which guided him in forming his opinions. History had hitherto been, if we except Tacitus, but a story well told; and by writers of limited capacity, the detail and number of facts had too often been considered as the only valuable portion of history. An erudition of facts is not the philosophy of history; an historian unskilful in the art of applying his facts ama.s.ses impure ore, which he cannot strike into coin. The chancellor D'Aguesseau, in his instructions to his son on the study of history, has admirably touched on this distinction. "Minds which are purely historical mistake a fact for an argument; they are so accustomed to satisfy themselves by repeating a great number of facts and enriching their memory, that they become incapable of reasoning on principles. It often happens that the result of their knowledge breeds confusion and universal indecision; for their facts, often contradictory, only raise up doubts. The superfluous and the frivolous occupy the place of what is essential and solid, or at least so overload and darken it that we must sail with them in a sea of trifles to get to firm land. Those who only value the philosophical part of history fall into an opposite extreme; they judge of what has been done by that which should be done; while the others always decide on what should be done by that which has been: the first are the dupes of their reasoning, the second of the facts which they mistake for reasoning. We should not separate two things which ought always to go in concert, and mutually lend an aid, _reason and example_! Avoid equally the contempt of some philosophers for the science of facts, and the distaste or the incapacity which those who confine themselves to facts often contract for whatever depends on pure reasoning. True and solid philosophy should direct us in the study of history, and the study of history should give perfection to philosophy." Such was the enlightened opinion, as far back as at the beginning of the seventeenth century, of the studious chancellor of France, before the more recent designation of _Philosophical History_ was so generally received, and so familiar on our t.i.tle-pages.

From the moment that the Florentine secretary conceived the idea that the history of the Roman people, opening such varied spectacles of human nature, served as a point of comparison to which he might perpetually recur to try the a.n.a.logous facts of other nations and the events pa.s.sing under his own eye, a new light broke out and ran through the vast extents of history. The maturity of experience seemed to have been obtained by the historian in his solitary meditation. Livy in the grandeur of Rome, and Tacitus in its fated decline, exhibited for Machiavel a moving picture of his own republics--the march of destiny in all human governments! The text of Livy and Tacitus revealed to him many an imperfect secret--the fuller truth he drew from the depth of his own observations on his own times. In Machiavel's "Discourses on Livy" we may discover the foundations of our _Philosophical History_.