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FEW have been in my secret while I was compiling these narratives, nor is it probable that they will ever become public during the life of their author. Even were that event to happen, I am not ambitious of the honoured distinction, digito monstrari.
For though he may turn up his nose at tourists and reading-parties, and long for contemplative solitude, yet there is a certain pleasure to some people, and often strongest in those who pretend most shyness, in the "digito monstrari, et diceri, hic est:" in taking for granted that everybody has read his poems; that everybody is saying in their hearts, "There goes Mr.
Maltravers leaned abstractedly against the wall, and some such reflections, perhaps, passed within, as the plumes waved and the diamonds glittered around him. Ever too proud to be vain, the monstrari digito had not flattered even in the commencement of his career. And now he heeded not the eyes that sought his look, nor the admiring murmur of lips anxious to be overheard.
Even the innocent relaxations with which the austerest minds relieve their accustomed toils, had had no power to draw him from his beloved researches. The delight monstrari digito; the gratification of triumphant wisdom; the whispers of an elevated vanity; existed not for his self-dependent and solitary heart.
A very similar jeu d'esprit of PORCIUS LICINUS is quoted: "Custodes ovium, teneraeque propaginis agnum, Quaeritis ignem? ite huc: Quaeritis? ignis homo est. Si digito attigero, incendam silvam simul omnem, Omne pecus: flamma est omnia quae video." This Porcius wrote also on the history of literature. Some rather ill- natured lines on Terence are preserved in Suetonius.
Videsne ut cinaedus orbem digito temperet? See with his orb the wanton's finger play! applied the passage to him, with great applause.
Even the innocent relaxations with which the austerest minds relieve their accustomed toils, had had no power to draw him from his beloved researches. The delight monstrari digito; the gratification of triumphant wisdom; the whispers of an elevated vanity; existed not for his self-dependent and solitary heart.
Let me try to be perfectly frank about this; I do not at all desire the tangible results of fame, invitations to banquets, requests to deliver lectures, the acquaintance of notable people, laudatory reviews. I like a quiet life; I do not want monstrari digito, as Horace says. I have had a taste of all of these things, and they do not amuse me, though I confess that I thought they would.
He was bold in forming plots, and skilful in conducting them; but in the hour of trial and under the confront of physical danger he was paralysed by constitutional timidity. His great aim in life was to be conspicuous digito monstrarier coupled with a theatric mania which made scenic effects and surprises essential to the eminence he craved.
Shall I confess a weakness? The only set-off I know to these rebuffs and mortifications is sometimes in an accidental notice or involuntary mark of distinction from a stranger. I feel the force of Horace's digito monstrari I like to be pointed out in the street, or to hear people ask in Mr. Powell's court, Which is Mr. Hazlitt? This is to me a pleasing extension of one's personal identity.
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