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JOHN BLACKIE was hurried away
from Berlin by his impetuous friends, John and Francis Forbes, who arrived
on the scene earlier than they were expected, and stayed a much shorter time
than was quite convenient. Excellent fellows as they were, their patriotism
was of that type which scorns to be greatly interested in foreign sights,
and it disposed them to make short work of a tour imposed upon them by the
paternal wisdom, but offering no particular attractions to sound Calvinists
and practical Aberdonians. Francis scouted as ridiculous John Blackie's
assertion that he could stop a week at every place they passed, and being a
masterful spirit, he swept the little party forward. Now and then young
Blackie rebelled, and insisted on a longer stay where his interest was
specially awakened. Their first halt was at Dresden, from which place he
wrote to his father. This letter describes the hurry imposed on his final
arrangements and leave-takings at Berlin, but speaks with sincere regard of
his comrades. He managed to take impressive farewells not only of Miss Minna
Doering, but also of other gracious Fräulein, who deigned to accept the
little volumes of English poetry which he offered as parting tokens, not
without a tear or two on either side—those facile Teutonic tears that come
for little, and go as they come.
The farewell visits to the
Professors were of sterner stuff, and less evanescent in their results. For
Neander gave him a most valuable introduction to Mr Bunsen, Prussian
Ambassador at the Papal Court; and Boeckh provided him with a letter to
Professor E. Gerhard, an archologist at Rome of European fame. Another
friend opened the doors of the kindly confraternity of painters by making
him known to two chiefs of the order.
He packed up all his German
books, along with a number of engravings collected for his father, and
despatched them in two heavy boxes to Aberdeen. A third box went to Mr Peter
Merson at Elgin, full of the rarer works which that gentleman had desired,
and which Leipsic and Berlin had proved competent to furnish; and so, having
got rid of these weightier matters, he equipped himself for further travel,
and started for Dresden on March 25.
The trio stayed some days
there for the sake of the picture-galleries, and then proceeded by Prague to
Vienna, which they reached in time for the Easter ceremonies, and where they
found so much to interest them that they remained twelve days. Mr and Mrs
Jackson were at the inn where they put up, and made pleasant return for John
Blackie's kindness to their son in Berlin. But a misfortune overtook him
here which abated his satisfaction with the tribute of praise now and again
granted by the home authorities to his thrift and financial management. He
had gone with his friends to a sumptuous Easter ceremonial in the Cathedral
of St Stephen, his pocket-book which contained a letter of credit for a
considerable sum of money, being in the inner pocket of his coat. The crush
was tremendous, and the young men had pushed their way through a mixed crowd
to get good places. When these were secured, John clapped his hand to his
pocket, to find it turned inside out, and, of course, empty. Of ready money
there was not more than fifty shillings lost; but at first he was
inconsolable, as the letter of credit was for a sum sufficient not only to
carry him to Rome, but to pay his expenses there for two months at least.
The sacristan and he searched the church in vain, the police were applied to
without success; but finally, on going to report his loss to the bank, he
was comforted with the information that no one could make use of his letter
of credit, as both the bank in question and all the other houses interested
had his signature. He was half afraid, however, that his father might be
sufficiently annoyed with his carelessness to recall him to Aberdeen, and he
protested sportively that rather than that should happen he would enlist in
the Italian army, or become a monk in a Roman monastery - two professions
for which he felt himself to be eminently qualified.
The banker supplied him at
once with money, so that, except for the temporary anxiety and for the shock
to his self-esteem, which he so frankly admits, the incident proved
harmless, and his father was too sensible a man to treat it otherwise than
lightly.
From Vienna the little party
travelled slowly through Styria and Carinthia to Trieste, at the rate of
about fifty miles a-day, spending the nights at the ordinary stages. When
they came to Laybach they stayed two nights, so as to spend the intervening
day in visiting the grotto of Adelsberg, with whose mighty halls and tunnels
they were much impressed. Leaving Carniola, they took about three days to
cover the road to Trieste. Here they rested a time, and then proceeded,
always with the help of a vetturno, to Venice, where they made a week's
halt. Francis Forbes distinguished himself as general manager and
contractor, reducing extortionate vetturini to reason and paying them just
one- half of what they demanded. From Venice they made their way by Ancona
and Bologna to Rome without hindrance or mishap, heartily tired of the long
jogging days, and as yet not at all enthusiastic about Italy and its sunny
plains. Fatigue and hurry seem to have spoilt the last few days of travel,
and John Blackie was heartily glad when they came to an end, and he was
quietly housed in two comfortable rooms in the Via Due Macelli, close to the
Piazza di Spagna. He was glad, too, to resume his own independence of
action, for he had been constrained to adapt himself to the somewhat
imperious direction of his companions during nearly two months, and as he
was no longer either ignorant of his own will or incompetent to use it, the
strain had required all his philosophy and that control of his temper which
is always difficult to a young and eager spirit conscious of varied needs
and interests and curbed by circumstances. It marks the discipline to which
he had already attained, that his complaint of these circumstances is always
gentle, and even tempered by admiration. But the relief is evident in the
bright letter in which he signals to his father his settlement as a free and
independent lodger in the Via Due Macelli.
He dined every day at a
trattoria in the Piazza di Spagna, at that time much frequented by artists,
and took his afternoon cup of coffee in the well-known Caffe Greco. He
delivered his letters of introduction to Severn and Gibson, and through them
became admitted to a fellowship with the artists in Rome which was both
socially delightful and roused in him the dormant faculty of seeing. He
began almost at once to take lessons in drawing, and so equipped his vision
for daily discoveries.
His letters from Rome begin
at quite an early date to be illustrated by neat little pen-and-ink sketches
of the columns and statues which he described, and although he did not
pursue this accomplishment after leaving Italy, it is certain that from this
time he began to look at the world of nature and that of art more fully
instructed what to seek in either. It is notable that he was not at this
time greatly impressed with the beauties of nature. He says himself that
"his delights were with the sons of men," that the veriest rag of humanity
was more interesting to him than the finest landscape, and that he regarded
the latter as but a fitting scene for the action of the former. Homer,
Shakespeare, and Browning were of the same mind as to the relative
importance of man and nature, but all three mighty poets knew nature well,
and could in a brief flash of words illumine her features and her moods.
John Blackie learned in later life to love her better, and, as we shall
find, to, seek the companionship of her mountains and moors, and to accept
their message.
It is not wonderful that he
should at once have begun to investigate the Roman Catholic religion as
demonstrated in its acts of worship and ethical results in Rome. At first
the piety of the Italian people attracted him—the little services
reverentially offered at street corners and at humble shrines, the "Ave
Maria" of the vesper hour, the tender devoutness of kneeling peasants in the
open basilicas; and so much did this side of the worship appeal to him that
for two whole days he was seriously disturbed by doubts whether, after all,
the right form of Christian worship were not to be found in the Roman
Church. It was natural that, diverted as he had been from Calvinistic
theology, his open mind should be ready to receive impressions from these
incidents in the drama of the Church. Ever and again the faithful devotion
of the poor, their eyes filled with wistful veneration of some vast mystery
which it were sacrilege to probe, attracts sensitive hearts to their
worship; but the mind taught to put aside a material pageantry, and to
commune with the Divine, soon rejects the fleeting influence. John Blackie
was not yet fully schooled, but he was honestly seeking "a religion to live
by," and it was soon apparent to him that Roman Catholicism bore few of the
desirable fruits of righteousness. That there were saints in that Church as
well as in others he discovered, but they were so by special grace. The
tyranny over heart and intellect, the low level of energy and aspiration to
which the system condemned its subjects, the childish attitude encouraged by
shows and superstitions, the canker of immorality in high places, the greed
and luxury of clerical princes and prelates, revolted him, and as these
things grew confirmed to his observation, he vented his indignation in a
torrent of eloquence to his mother, who must have been reassured by the
outburst as to any evil forebodings caused by his first sentimental interest
in the Church. This letter contains scarcely a sentence of practical
information. He wrote it at a white heat of invective, and forgot to curb
himself by the epistolary rules imposed upon him. It. was, therefore,
notwithstanding- its staunch Protestantism, rather a failure in the home
circle, anxious for descriptions and personal details, and he was reproved
accordingly. He bore the discipline well, and admitted his failings as a
correspondent with cheery humour.
He was acquiring Italian
rapidly, his knowledge of Latin bridging the difficulties. He made few
acquaintances amongst Italians, however, although their kindliness attracted
him; but he was at this time so prepossessed with his debt to the German
type of mind and character, that he was not yet capable of acknowledging
their claims to sympathetic study. He commented on this afterwards :-
The Italians made
decidedly no impression upon me, not because they had not much that was
worthy of my love, but because my heart was already preoccupied by the
Germans. The world with which I was specially occupied was the world of
thoughts within my own soul, which I was anxious to humanise and to
unify, and in this task I had to struggle into clearness by the help of
the Bible and of the Germans. To any questions that I had to put, the
Italian oracles were altogether dumb. I made no intimate acquaintance
among that people. I was possessed by a feeling that a vast gulf divided
them and me, which it was impossible to overbridge. The Germans had laid
hold of me firmly in Gottingen and Berlin, and they kept that hold in
Rome. There was a great narrowness about this, no doubt, but young men
are naturally narrow, especially those in whom the subjective element is
preponderant.
But his visits to the great
collections of Rome and to the ruins of its ancient glory inspired him with
the desire to stay during the coming winter, and to devote himself to
classical study in their neighbourhood. He wrote to his father requesting
his permission to do this, and offering to give up Paris altogether, as of
secondary importance to his aim. He described the openings which Rome
offered for further study of Latin and Greek literature, for more intimate
acquaintance with Grecian and Roman art, and for such a detailed study of
Roman history as would fit him very thoroughly for the position to which he
now aspired—that of Professor of Humanity in some Scottish University. He
admitted that, although this favour might be granted him, his ability to
profit by it might not equal his ambition, but he promised that his industry
should at all events aim at the latter. He urged his father to send him a
speedy answer, as his desire to remain had fevered him with anxiety, and he
proposed to divert his thoughts by going to Naples in the interval which
must elapse before the answer could reach Rome. It is interesting to find
this letter prefaced by some verses freely translated, or rather
paraphrased, from Horace, his father's favourite poet; and although this was
probably not the first instance of a tendency to weave his more urgent
emotions into rhyme, which became a constant characteristic of his later
life, it is the earliest example given in his correspondence. He pressed his
suit in these verses, which contrast all other cities with Rome, and end—
"For though in Rome I should
for ages pore,
Not even then were all my studies o'er."
He suggested, too, that
should he never sit on the academic stool, at least he would be a most
learned divine.
The wife and daughters of his
acquaintance, the German pastor, were about to visit Naples, and he decided
to share their carriage and have the pleasure of their company. But fate had
prepared for him an absurd trick, which turned the journey into an
adventure. A certain Captain Blacker had made himself obnoxious in the
kingdom of Naples, and instructions lay at the consulates to prevent his
crossing the frontier. John Blackie was summoned to the Farnesina, where
resided the Neapolitan Consul, and he was there informed that his passport
was not satisfactory, as it certified only a "Monsieur Blackie," and gave no
information with regard to his profession. He applied to Mr Bunsen, who
guaranteed his innocence of the inconvenient behaviour of the objectionable
captain, and the Consul was good enough to admit that he looked both young
and harmless.
He started with the ladies
about the end of June, passing through Papal territory until they reached
Terracina, the frontier stage. Here they underwent the delay and vexatious
inspection incident to those times, but his passport proved equal to the
occasion. When they reached Mola di Gaeta, where they halted for the night,
their passports were again delivered up to the authorities. At supper the
travellers were disturbed by the arrival of the police. It was politely
intimated to John Blackie that his name was suspicious, and that further
inquiries must be made, pending which he was requested to consider himself
detained. In vain he explained himself; the police inspector agreed that his
appearance was not that of a carbonaro English captain, but with all
courtesy maintained his position that black crosses marked the name of
Blackie in their register. The ladies appealed to the obdurate official, and
did their best to beguile him from his untoward sense of duty, but in vain,
and their cavalier, stamping up and down the room and exploding in mingled
wrath and mirth, found himself a prisoner on parole. His passport was sent
to Rome for identification, and three days passed before it was returned.
The ladies stayed with him during the first day of his captivity, and the
whole party wandered about Gaeta and through the grounds of Cicero's villa
of Forrni, where the great Orator of Rome collected his library of valuable
manuscripts, where Clodius wreaked his miserable vengeance, and where, when
it was rebuilt and readorned on his return from exile, Cicero sought refuge
from the bravos of Antony, perishing at their hands in his feeble efforts to
escape. This exploration was of great interest to the "prisoner of Gaeta,"
for Cicero was still his favourite author, and he could furnish his
companions with all the details of that tragic day. But the ladies were not
able to prolong their stay, and so mounted their vettura, and drove away on
the second morning. He spent the two intervening days as best he could, and
rejoiced greatly when the evening of the second brought not only his permit
to proceed, but two gentlemen on their way to Naples whom, by good fortune,
he had met in Rome, and who being Germans, and of friendly disposition, made
the closing hours of his captivity cheerful, and gave him a seat in their
carriage to Naples next day.
These friends became his
constant companions in Naples, and together they visited both the art
collections of the city and the memorable districts in its neighbourhood. A
few lines of his own contemporary description will best indicate the ground
which he covered during a stay of five weeks. The wholesome enthusiasm of
youth tends towards grandiloquence. He wrote on August 8 :-
I have visited all the
marvellous regions celebrated in the 6th book of Virgil and the 10th
book of the 'Odyssey'; I have stood on the promontory of Cume, where the
Trojan hero consulted the god of oracles through the medium of the
Sibylla; I have seen the still and deep waters of the infernal Lake of
Avernus; I have stood on the ruins of the magnificent palaces of the
ancient masters. of the world in Bake and Pozzuoli; I have traversed the
silent streets of Pompeii, and with torch-light disturbed the
subterranean stillness of Herculaneum; I have seen the barren streams of
lava which mark the destructive course of Vesuvian fire, and I have
heard the boiling of its caldron; I have visited Capri, wild and
romantic abode of the most diabolic of all Roman emperors, Tiberius; I
have seen the now Uncovered ruins of his lofty palace, and I have trod
on the mosaic staircase once trod by the tyrannic feet of this monster
and his praetorian guard; I have visited the volcanic island of Ischia,
which, though at present not tormented by eruptions, is yet shaken to
its centre by earthquakes: all this I have seen, and let me add ,besides
ç—the old temples of Pestum, which, having withstood for ages the
attacks of time of Goths and Saracens, stand now fast and immovable in
almost their ancient splendour, as if to mock the more splendid yet less
solid edifices of the moderns.
Amongst his excursions from
Naples must not be omitted a visit of some days to Sorrento, where the
German ladies from whom he parted at Gaeta were staying, and it was in their
agreeable company that he visited Capri and wandered on its heights.
He busied himself during the
final week in collecting minerals, engravings, casts, and coins for his
father and mother, and he alluded in his letters to the anxiety with which
he looked forward to the news from home which would decide his fate for the
winter.
He returned to Rome about the
middle of August, to find a kindly letter from his father cordially granting
his petition. It filled him with a grateful impulse to set about immediately
the more intimate study of the classics which he proposed. Mr Bunsen
introduced him to some of the Roman libraries, where he found old and rare
editions of the Latin authors; but he was at first even more indebted to the
hospitality of an English resident in Rome, Mr Finch, a friend of the
Prussian ambassador's and a man of unusual culture. This gentleman had
collected a large and very valuable library, and as it contained every
critical work in English, French, and German, as well as in Italian, and
was, besides, well stored with classical books, John Blackie rejoiced to
have the privilege of using its treasures. He borrowed at once both Horace
and Virgil, and as Rome was deserted in the heat and stillness of summer, he
went to Tivoli, and found in the Sibyl Inn both quarters and two German
artists with whom he made terms of good-fellowship.
Here he began to read his
Horace, with excursions to every spot in that region commemorated by the
poet, while the artists shared his rovings for their art's sake, and were
not unwilling to listen to his readings and declamations. For the youth was
as the child had been, and Horace was voiced to the Sabine winds. The
excursions included, of course, Hadrian's Villa, which impressed him
sufficiently to call forth a lengthy description. After a fortnight at
Tivoli, he commenced a walking tour through the Sabine district, staying at
Olevano and Subiaco, and making them points of departure for prolonged
expeditions to the higher ridges of the Apennines. Horace and Virgil in his
pocket, provisioned with a piece of bread and cheese, and picking up
refreshing draughts of wine at the osteric by the way, swinging a stout
walking-stick for support and defence, he would start at sunrise and walk
till sunset, resting during the hotter hours for dinner and siesta. In this
way he thoroughly explored the country and identified every spot which his
poets had commemorated. Sometimes he managed a walk of twenty-four miles in
a day, and his excellent health bore witness to his wisdom.
He was delighted with Subiaco,
where, as well as at Olevano, he found a bevy of busy artists, and where the
hospitalities of the inn and their marvellous cheapness encouraged him not
only to prolong his stay, but to return again and again as to a centre. In
this fashion he made his way to many points of its radius, and amongst them
to Alatri and the plains south of the Volscian mountains. It is worthy of
note that he never alludes in his letters to the medieval associations of
these places. Benedict and his brier-bush do not seem to have existed for
him. His talk is all of Roman and Etruscan, of battles on the heated plains
which gods and goddesses alighted to witness from an amphitheatre of peaks.
The mighty myths of Virgil were written on all the land, and the pale
palimpsest of medieval miracle availed nothing to expunge their sterner
characters.
He made acquaintance with an
English artist at the inn, and they fell into the habit of taking these long
walks together. One of their joint expeditions was to Fucino and its
fragmentary lake, and they struck the ancient Via Valeria, which leaves the
highroad between Subiaco and Tivoli, on their way. As John Blackie had no
passport for this excursion into Neapolitan territory, the magistrates of
Subiaco signed a paper declaring him to be a fit and proper traveller. But
the police at Celano made much disturbance over the informal document, and
he was again in danger of detention. As his object was to visit the
antiquities without going farther, they were finally induced to overlook the
irregularity, and he returned to Subiaco without scathe to his liberty.
He stayed as long as his
funds would permit, for he travelled with little money about him; but so
trifling were his expenses—less than two shillings a-day—that it was October
before he returned to Rome. Here sad news awaited him. His friend Mr Finch
was dead, and a learned German acquaintance, who like himself was pursuing
his classical studies in Rome, and whom an academical appointment awaited,
had also succumbed to a sudden fever. For a time John Blackie fell into the
utmost depression of spirits. He was no match for the grim warrior death,
who, not contented with the slain, leaves many sore stricken on the field of
his victory. Doubts crowded on his mind, and he brooded himself into a
melancholy.
Mr Roods, his artist friend,
came to the rescue, and carried him off in the lovely autumn weather to the
Volscian hills, where they visited Velletri, Con, Norba, Ninfa, and Segni,
always on foot, walking from twenty to twenty-five miles a-day, and resting
at the white towns, which glitter like "grains of salt" amongst the sunny
heights. Here, as Mr Roods sketched temples, convents, and contaclirt'i,
John Blackie aspired to do likewise, and had what he called "a fit of the
drawing madness." He got on fairly well, and his friend taught and
encouraged him. From the hills they descended to the Pontine Marshes, and
walked across to Civita Lavinia, Virgil in hand. Then the short walk to Nemi
brought them to its mysterious lake, and skirting its shores, they made
their way to Palazzuola, to the site of Alba Longa, and so round the Alban
Lake to Marino, avoiding the main route through Albano. They returned to
Rome by the end of the third week in October, with health, spirits, and
energy completely restored.
He alluded to the "drawing
madness" in a letter to his sister Christina, which indicates also that he
had given up his rooms in the Via Due Macelli, and had established himself
in the Via di Ripetta. The huge folio sheet was mainly filled by a lengthy
metrical effusion entitled " The Monk's Sermon and the Devil's Annotations,"
and announced to be a satire on Catholicism; but it is to be feared that his
verses were not so much appreciated at home as his narrations, and his
sister expressed herself severely as to the undue preponderance of the
former. But he apologised as follows :-
You see I am verse-mad.
But you know I am subject to various kinds of madness, and of frequent
recurrence. In Aberdeen I got religious-mad; then I got Latin-mad; now I
am verse-mad and drawing-mad, and am getting fast antiquity-mad. Out of
this never-ending fermenta- tion may something good arise, that I may
not be eternally driven about by every wind of doctrine. But, as it is,
I have no more command over my whims and fancies than a henpecked
husband has over his wife.
His study of the antiquities
of Rome now began in good earnest, and included a thorough re- search into
the literature of architecture. Mr Finch's death had closed all access to
his valuable library, but the German artists, whose society he frequented,
introduced him to their library, in which he found copious works on art,
antiquities, and architecture. Professor Gerhard, to whom he was introduced
by Boeckh's letter, received him with great kindness, and on learning the
bent of his studies, gave him much assistance by suggestions which regulated
the order of his reading, as well as by books and papers on special
archaeological subjects.
His letters during November
and December contain abstracts of these studies, and one of them gives an
excellent account in brief of the Roman Forum, then known as the Campo
Yaccino. They are illustrated by drawings of columns, capitals, and
architraves, and must have satisfied the inquiring minds of the Blackie
household better than the rhymes of former effusions. In a letter to Aunt
Manie he thus describes his days in Rome:-
I rise about seven, and
after reading a chapter of the Bible and composing a prayer out of it, I
go and make my breakfast, which consists simply of a cup of coffee and
bread. Till mid-day I read in the Minerva Library. Then I come home, and
after lunching, study and draw. After drawing till about three o'clock
in the afternoon, I go every second day to my drawing-master, with whom
I remain an hour and a half, then stroll about till five, when I go to
the restaurateur and meet my friends and dine. After dinner I either
read at home or go to the German pastor's, where there is German
society, and where we have rational discourse on all subjects, religious
and worldly. These parties generally end with a chapter of the Bible and
a prayer. On Sundays I go to the German church, take a walk, read
Klopstock and the Bible, and in the evening visit the Prussian
Ambassador, who on these evenings has most beautiful sacred music. I
have also a general invitation to his week-day evening parties, as well
as to those given by the Duchess of TorIonia, where 1 see all the
beauties of Rome, a sight worth all the musty antiquarian and Latin
books that were ever written.
One of these letters hints at
a possible book on Roman antiquities, to be published when he returned to
Aberdeen; but as his knowledge increased, the vastness of the subject
disheartened him.
His steady church - going and
Bible reading testify to the constant flame of devotional feeling in his
nature, because at this time his mind was quite unsettled concerning
doctrinal religion. He was shedding the hard husk of Calvinism, and was
unwilling to accept the effusive self-exaltation of the early Evangelicals,
being too young yet to be wisely tolerant and to see beyond the workers to
the work. Their ignorance of the Holy Scriptures in any but the obvious
sense, and their refusal to study them with any candid system of
interpretation, - what he termed their "canting and ranting harangues,"
distinguished too often by prejudice and not by wisdom,—estranged him from
their party, although amongst them he acknowledged men of sincere personal
religion, anxious only for the best interests of mankind. From time to time,
unable to feel himself at one with any professed religious party, he fell
into fits of deep dejection. Visions of death, judgment, and eternal
perdition filled and paralysed his mind. Mr Bunsen, a man whose diplomatic
ability owed its exceptional influence to his rare and Christian character,
came now and again to his rescue, and the German pastor availed him too in
times of need. On one occasion Bunsen took him to his own study and
questioned him about his religious convictions, urging him with such tender
earnestness that John Blackie burst into tears. Another time, when in a
scoffing strain he alluded to the doctrine of eternal damnation, Bunsen
called him sharply to order, reminding him "that the duration of other men's
damnation was no business of his, that he would find enough to do attending
to his own personal religion, and that damnation of some kind or other was
sure to follow on all unrepented sin." The older man, matured and ennobled
by Christianity, was displeased to find this clever youth, in whom he took
an interest, wasting his energy in "boggling among dark theological
questions of no practical value."
It was during an access of
depression that he visited one morning the Hanoverian Ambassador, Mr Kestner,
interesting to us as the son of Werthers Charlotte,—to whom he had been
introduced by Mr Bunsen. Mr Kestner amused his leisure by drawing portraits
of his friends, and on this particular morning he was busy with a study of
John Blackie's head. Watching his sitter, he divined his state, and
questioned him with gentle persistence. John Blackie confessed his despair
at his own protracted immaturity. "Believe me," said Kestner, "your slow
growth predicts a rich ripening: the larger nature needs long development."
So wise a sympathy served to
dispel the present cloud, and to ward off its approach at many an
after-time.
His Christmas Eve was spent
with the Bunsens, and he speaks of the kindness which they showed him on
this occasion, Mrs Bunsen having provided a rare and beautiful engraving for
his Christmas gift. He began the new year with a thorough investigation into
his gains from that just completed, and this investigation seems to have
made him realise more than ever his great indebtedness to his father, and
the duty, growing ever plainer, of putting a period to that indebtedness by
fitting himself as soon as possible for remunerative work. This meant more
and more a professorial chair, and we find him redoubling his efforts to
become qualified for so honourable a post.
His friend Professor Gerhard
suggested that a minute study of some antique has - relief or inscriptioii,
winch had not yet been made the subject of an archeological paper, might not
only concentrate his labours, but might have scope for all in Latin or
Italian likely to promote his ends. The advice was good, and he changed the
field of his researches from the Forum to the Vatican, whose marvellous
collection gave him a larger choice. Here he made lists of likely subjects,
drawing them up to the extent of his artistic attainments, - which had
taught him the important lesson of overlooking no detail,—and studying them
at home. Books in Latin, Greek, French, German, and Italian were needed for
this work, and these he procured either from Professor Gerhard or by making
copious extracts in the Minerva Library. IV! hen Mr Gerhard's books and
manuscripts were too valuable to be lent, he had the privilege of
frequenting his rooms and copying the informing passages at his very
study-table. His gifts and assiduity pleased the Professor, whose own
industry industry was immense, and who hoped to make a useful archaeologist
of his young friend.
The part which Greek
necessarily took in such a quest awoke his dormant interest in that
language, and that interest shortly resolved itself into fuller study. He
had made the acquaintance in Rome of a young Greek student, and at once
engaged him to give him two lessons weekly in modern Greek. With quick
observation he noted that the language of Homer had suffered but little
change, and that while three thousand years have seen the rise of many a
modern tongue, while Latin has given birth to a whole sisterhood of varying
dialects, while tongues have lived and died or linger obscurely in the
patois of insignificant valleys, Greek is still spoken in the streets of
Athens and in the villages of the Peloponnesus changed in but few
inflections from the language of Pericles and Agesilaus. From this time
dates his enthusiasm for Greek. The rapidity with which he acquired its
modern form astonished his teacher, with whom he always talked in Greek.
Homer, Eschyles, and Sophocles became instinct with life, and were soon
companions as constant as Virgil and Horace.
Busy as he was with increase
of his store, he seems to have felt much timidity about his own power to
make use of it. In a letter to his father dated January 20, 1831, he says:-
I have always been
haunted with a want of confidence. I always fear that what I could say
or write on a subject would not be worth the hearing or reading. But too
much of such a fear is childish, and I must pull up all my courage to
shake it off.
In these lines we have
evidence not only of healthy modesty, but of that sanity of practical
judgment upon which all worthy living depends.
The death of the Pope and the
accession of Gregory XVI. took place about this time, and he wrote with
interest in the uprising of many nations against tyranny, and rejoiced that
even in Italy, Bologna, Ancona, and Ravenna were giving the newly invested
Pontiff and his College of Cardinals some flutter of uneasiness. Indeed, as
the days passed, the news that a rebel army was on the march for Rome, and
that the Pope had gone to Civita Castellana, where he was mustering the
Papal forces, gave all foreign residents a hint to pack up and be ready to
leave at a moment's notice; but Mr Bunsen advised John Blackie to stay
quietly where he was until the situation at Rome took a definite form. He
greatly preferred to stay, and, as events proved, the capital and its
immediate States were not yet prepared to throw off the sacerdotal yoke, and
the rising in the north was crushed.
John Blackie's lessons in
modern Greek helped him to a view of the pronunciation and accentuation of
the ancient language, which grew to a conviction as he advanced in its lore.
He says in a letter to his father dated January 28 :-
I have a project in my
head to set on foot a controversy about the Greek pronunciation, as I
think it quite plain that our professors are wrong in not adopting the
pronunciation of modern Greek. This is not a dead but a living language.
Thus early did he form an
opinion on this point, maintained throughout his public career, and
advocated again and again both in newspaper controversy and in academic
conclave. Sometimes the longing to extend his travels to Greece breaks out
in these letters. His generous father met that longing with a cordial
approval, and proposed that he should now leave Rome and spend the spring in
making a tour on the mainland and amongst the islands of Greece. The
prospect was most alluring; but John Blackie had begun to see how good a
thing it is that a man should stand on his own feet,—and every lesson
attained in the conduct of life, once become an organic part of his ethical
philosophy, grew living and urgent. He declined the offer with dutiful
gratitude, on the ground that to go to Greece now would be to sacrifice the
completion of his gain in Rome; that, infinite as the pleasure of such a
tour would be, it must necessarily be only pleasure; and that to acquire
independence on his return to Aberdeen, it was best for him to remain at his
post, studying with all the severity which his archologica1 undertaking had
imposed upon him. The subject of that undertaking was now selected. It was a
bas-relief representing a battle between the Romans and the Germans, and to
be seen on a sarcophagus in the Vatican Museum.
It plunged him into the
specific study of Greek and Roman armour. To this end he had to search
through poets, historians, antiquaries, and lexicographers, had to note and
compare the weapons represented on the statues, has reliefs, pictures, and
Etruscan vases to which he had access, and finally to identify each with its
description in prose or poetry. Professor Gerhard refused to accept any but
the most thorough work, and his disciple rejoiced to be forced to model his
powers on the learning and industry of the great German archeologist.
A French savant had already
made this has- relief the subject of an essay, but had proposed some theory
of its motif untenable on full investigation. John Blackie set himself to
controvert this writer, but the first draft of his argument was couched in
Latin so gusty and highflown that Professor Gerhard declined it, and imposed
upon him a quiet and fully detailed statement of his views in unvarnished
Italian.
These labours occupied the
spring. Early in May his father became anxious for his return. This roused
him to a sense of how deeply his interest was now involved in archological
pursuits, and as Professor Gerhard proposed to take him for a few days' tour
in Etruria, he determined to make an appeal for further leave of absence. He
sought Bunsen's aid, and that gentleman wrote to Mr Blackie a letter which
is worthy of quotation, not only for the estimate which it expresses of John
Blackie, but for the very fact's sake that it is a letter by Chevalier
Bunsen :-
ROME, 3d May 1831.
SIR,—I hope you will not
find it too great a liberty if I presume to address to you these few
lines. Although unknown to you except by the favourable report of my
excellent young friend, your son, I have in the first place to thank you
for the very kind message you have sent me through him. I assure you
that I shall have very great pleasure in coming to Scotland to make your
personal acquaintance, and to tell you by word of mouth how glad I have
been to have known your son at Rome, whose acquirements, whose pure zeal
for the cultivation of his mind, and whose excellent qualities of heart
have endeared him to me and my friends in Germany and at Rome to a very
high degree.
It is in consequence of
his request that I take the liberty of observing to you of what
importance it will be to him to be able to finish a literary research he
has begun at this place. He scarcely can work it anywhere else but here,
on account of the monuments he must observe and describe, and it would
certainly be very much to be regretted if he was to give it up entirely,
after having bestowed upon it many months of study and research. I feel
assured that two months will be sufficient to terminate it; and as he is
in the enjoyment of the best health, and always active and busy, I
really believe you will for this delay not think him guilty of a breach
of promise. He has always expressed to me the highest sense of his
filial duties, and 1 am sure he would willingly sacrifice not only every
wish, but every laudable scientific pursuit, to a paternal command. But
as this positive command does not exist, I request you, sir, not to
withhold from him your sanction of such a prolonged stay of two months,
which I can give you the most positive assurance will be of most
essential use and importance to him. The work which thus he will be able
to finish on the spot will do him honour in the literary world of
Scotland and of Germany. Forgive, sir, the liberty I am taking, and
believe me to be your humble and obliged servant,
J. Bunsen.
When this letter was
despatched, John Blackie set out with Professor Gerhard to visit the
Etruscan tombs in the neighbourhood of Corneto. Here they went carefully
over the sepulchres of the ancient people of Tarquinii and Vulci, which the
proprietors, Prince Lucien Buonaparte and two Italian princes, had swept
clean of every movable. He wrote a learned and interesting letter on the
subject, touching on the controversy, which at that time raged amongst
antiquaries, as to the Greek origin of Etruscan or the Etruscan origin of
Greek ornament. This letter was published in the 'Edinburgh Literary
Journal,' whose editorship had changed hands, the first editor, Mr Henry
Glassford Bell, having resigned his charge. Mr Jonathan Bell was in Rome, to
his old friend's great satisfaction. He recorded their frequent meetings,
and as frequent theological frays, both following the perfervid inborn
impulse to battle over doctrines.
During the summer months of
June and July, John Blackie was still in Rome revising and correcting, and
at length satisfactorily completing, his paper. It passed muster by the end
of July, and on August 2 he went out to Frascati to stay with Chevalier and
Madame Bunsen at their villa there. One incident of this visit was related
in after-years by his host.
One morning when breakfast
was on the table and his young guest missing, Mr Bunsen sought him far and
near in the grounds of the villa. Guided by tones which rose and swelled and
sank with stimulating emphasis, he made his way to a field where grew in
serried ranks cabbages, pumpkins, and warlike granturci, and here,
addressing the regiments of vegetables in sounding Greek and after the
manner of Demosthenes, he found his friend. Perhaps the neighbourhood of
Tusculum had filled him with emulation, for just in this manner, we are
told, did Cicero perfect his Greek. Though new to Bunsen, the trait was one
with which we are already familiar.
About this time he announced
his intention so to devote himself to Greek as to become qualified for the
Chair of Greek in some University. In the letter which contains this
expression of purpose he abjures all thought of the Presbyterian ministry.
Mr Jonathan Bell had given it as his opinion that he was neither an
archaologist nor a theologian, but emphatically a linguist, and he endorsed
his friend's estimate, though he hinted roguishly that there might be the
makings of a tragic dramatist amongst his volcanic powers, as there was a
constant stream of versification from within overflowing his control. Indeed
his letters were written half in rhyme, and roused wrath at home.
He described his visit to
Bunsen as delightful. He stayed till the middle of August, and learned many
things from his host, amongst others to listen as well as to talk, an
exercise which he felt at first to be penitential. Mr Bunsen had
conversations with him about personal religion, and told him that he had too
readily accepted the conclusions of German scepticism, and that a thorough
study of the human mind
might bring home to him the shallowness of all systems which excluded the
spiritual and the supernatural. Such lessons were humbling, but he realised
that from the lips and example of such a man as his host they were a
powerful corrective of the crude mental audacity which these years of
freedom had engendered.
He read his essay to Mr
Bunsen, who agreed with Professor Gerhard that it was a learned, accurate,
and finished production, expressed too in admirable Italian. It was given to
the printers at once, and was included in the papers of the 'Annali deli'
Instituto di Corrispondenza Archeologica per 1'Anno 1831.' it won from all
experts the utmost praise both for its learning and for its Italian.
This result being secured, he
despatched a box of books, prints, coins, and minerals to Aberdeen, sent on
his own luggage to Munich, and prepared to leave Rome on September 2. He did
so with a heavy heart, regretting most of all to bid farewell to Mr Bunsen,
but grieved also to part from many friends, who had made the Eternal City
like a second home. |
