Foscolo; At Holkham; First Article; Departure from Liverpool; Brougham; Miss Turner; London University; Botta; Lady Dacre; ‘Orlando Innamorato’; W. S. Rose; Keightley; Moore’s Verses; Correspondence with Mr. Grenville; First Appointment.

Panizzi being established in Liverpool in 1826, it may be concluded (and, indeed, in a letter to be presently quoted he admits as much) that he was now earning sufficient to satisfy his immediate wants, and to enable him to enjoy a certain degree of luxury. He resided at 93 Mount Pleasant, an eminence overlooking the town, and celebrated in Roscoe’s poem of the same name. From the invitations he received, constantly dining out, it may be inferred he moved in the best society and was leading a comfortable life. Far otherwise was it with Ugo Foscolo, his fellow-exile. For Foscolo, of whose celebrity in England, as of the reverence paid to his name by the youth of his native Italy, Giuseppe Mazzini writes so warmly, was now living in London in a state bordering on destitution.

“Stern and somewhat aggressive in temperament,” says Mazzini, speaking of Foscolo, “his mind nourished 64and fortified by severe study, little calculated for laying new foundations, but endowed with mighty faculties for destruction, he effectually overthrew (except for those who bow down kindly before precedents) a whole edifice of errors which barred the way to the study of Dante. In his different writings, especially in his “Discorso sul Testo,” etc., etc., etc., he cleared the ground for a better understanding of the ‘Commedia’ and the poet.”
Ugo Foscolo

This estimate of Foscolo’s character was founded entirely on reading and reports, and seeing that the two famous refugees had no personal knowledge of each other—indeed had never met—must be taken as an eulogium rather of the genius than the moral worth of the great writer.

Though doubtless much might be said on this topic, our space and the purpose of this memoir forbid our dwelling at any length on the subject. For Foscolo’s genius as writer and poet, Panizzi—as who would not, even without his shrewd discernment?—ever entertained the profoundest respect; but in a somewhat important qualification, strict adherence to truth, he detected a slight deficiency. However, he made 65every allowance for this failing in a man of superior endowments, and felt the deepest sympathy with one of so great attainments reduced to such ignoble shifts. It is but too true that Foscolo wrote his famous book, “Discorso sul Testo, etc.,” and other of his last works under the pressure of extreme poverty and in continual dread of his creditors, which rendered his bodily sufferings the more intolerable, and caused him alarm lest want of bread should put a stop to his literary labours.

It is unnecessary to give further details of Foscolo’s life. They were better known to Panizzi than to any one else, and he alone could have narrated the true story of the experiences of his illustrious friend. The biographers of the former have unaccountably and unpardonably neglected to take due cognizance of the intimacy which subsisted between the two.

The first letter, written by Panizzi to Foscolo from Liverpool, and dated 25th February, 1826, is long and most interesting. Herein he recalls to his friend’s memory that it was just thirty months since he laid the foundation of all that the writer possessed, and proceeds in the following grateful strain: “Were it possible for me to forget my own country, I could not certainly forget Liverpool. If the misery of selling articles and verbs were not such as to freeze one’s blood, I might say that I live, yet I only vegetate; even this is due to you.”

Of Foscolo’s “Discorso sul Testo” of Dante, Panizzi always expressed the highest admiration. “It would be impossible,” he writes of his friend’s magnum opus, “to describe how much superior your work seems to me, 66compared with those hitherto made known, not only in Italy, but by any critic elsewhere. Being a great admirer of Dante, in whom I find the greatest comfort of my exile, I paid last month a visit to the Bodleian, where I saw thirteen manuscripts of the ‘Divina Commedia.’ I have ready a minute description of each, which I have written in the shape of a letter, with the intention of sending it to the ‘Antologia,’ a paper more Italian in feeling, and less slavish than the others; but if you would like to see it, I shall most willingly send it to you. I may add that not far from here there is another manuscript of Dante, which, according to Mr. Roscoe, is well worth consulting; I propose seeing it next Easter. Mr. Coke, of Holkham, also possesses other MSS. and has kindly offered to send them to my house, that I may have an opportunity of studying them at leisure.”

The splendid library at Holkham had been, in 1812, carefully examined and catalogued by Mr. Roscoe, who was immensely impressed with its value and importance.

“Such MSS. of Dante,” he writes to a friend, “drawings of the old masters, treasures of European history—you have no idea ... besides beautifully illuminated MSS. on vellum of many of the Latin classics, a most exquisite Boccaccio, a very fine old Dante.”

In the catalogue the following note is written by Roscoe: “For a transcript of this very difficult MS. of Boccaccio, by Signor Antonio Panizzi, see the illustrations in Vol. VIII. of this catalogue.”

67Next, if not equal in value to the “Discorso sul Testo,” in Panizzi’s estimation, was another work of Foscolo’s. This was “La Commedia di Dante Alighieri illustrata da Ugo Foscolo.” (London: 8vo., 1825). It may be mentioned that the preface to the first vol. of a later edition (1842) of this book, signed “un Italiano,” was written by Mazzini. Panizzi reviewed “La Commedia” (it was his first attempt at criticism in the English language) in the Westminster Review (vol. 7, p. 153).

This will amply repay perusal. The sincerity of the writer’s patriotism, and the manner in which it serves to enhance his interest in the great poet of his native country, will probably attract the reader’s attention at the outset. The philological contest in which Dante was engaged—his conclusions (set forth in his “De Vulgari Eloquio”), on the true origin of the Italian language, by which he so much disgusted his Florentine compatriots,—his own life and greater works,—the relations of the different powers by whose influence Italy was chiefly affected,—the spiritual in jeopardy of its existence in its own home, and externally the temporal, on which it mainly relied for support,—are all brought under notice, and skilfully treated.

Reference has been made to the “Westminster Review,” and as that periodical is easily accessible it is unnecessary to destroy the reader’s interest by extracting from the article in question.

Meanwhile Foscolo still continued his correspondence with Panizzi, furnishing him with details of his troubles. Serious differences seem to have arisen 68between him and Mr. Pickering, the publisher of his projected works, whose treatment of him he describes as shameful. Neither is Mr. Brougham spared; Foscolo had employed him to heal the breach between Mr. Pickering and himself; and these are the terms in which he mentions the services rendered:—“Brougham, at first, offered to take the matter to heart, but allowed it to drop, because I have no money to carry on the suit. He has acted as a lawyer, and wisely too; I shall also act wisely by having nothing more to do with him.”

It is somewhat difficult to discover from these words the exact part Brougham took in the matter. To substantiate the charges brought by Foscolo against men of acknowledged worth is against our inclination, nor have we the opportunity of clearly knowing their nature. In writing a memoir of Panizzi it is but just to remark that, so far as the worthy publisher is concerned, he entertained the highest opinion of Pickering up to the last, as a man of taste, of great knowledge, and of indisputable private worth. These accusations, in all probability without foundation, possibly created in their recipient’s mind his before-mentioned suspicion of his friend’s entire trustworthiness, a suspicion he almost publicly divulged in 1871, when Foscolo’s remains were about to be removed from Chiswick to a more honourable grave in Santa Croce, Florence.

In the summer of the year 1826, Foscolo reached the lowest depth of his poverty. Persecuted on all sides by his creditors, he hid, or rather, as he wrote, buried himself alive. “I send you my new address, 69you are the only person who will be acquainted with it, 19, Henrietta-street, Brunswick-square, let nobody know it, now or ever, and if in town, I can offer you a bed, and thus prevent your portmanteau from being ransacked by some London hotel-keeper.” At this period (painful to relate), he evidently meditated suicide. “The virile act of voluntary death becomes dreadful, when committed through poverty. I must, in order to proceed with my work, take care of myself; and have imitated you, in finding a few humble families, to whom I give lessons at three shillings each.” Of these lessons he could give no more than six a week, having in hand another important work, also on Dante, in which he requested the assistance of Panizzi who possessed some valuable notes on the subject. This aid was readily afforded. Panizzi, however, who wished to serve his friend to the utmost urged Foscolo to visit Liverpool; and, as a compensation for his expenses, proposed that he should deliver six lectures at the Royal Institution, on Tasso and Ariosto, during the space of three weeks, and receive for this ￡50. In the letter suggesting this he says:—“I do not care for these lectures myself; having so many friends I am obliged to give away tickets to, in return for their dinners and tea-parties. Come, and write, never mind the postage, for I had sooner deprive myself of a good dinner than one of your letters. Moreover I am not in want.”

As to the subject of giving lessons the writer remarked: “How much better it is to sell articles, nouns, and verbs than to stretch forth your hand and ask for assistance from those generous, miserable, 70proud rich people whose rude manners make one unwillingly ungrateful. When I think that Macchiavelli acted the pedagogo to live I may well be proud of my present position. There will be no more of this soon. Courage, my dear friend, the storm will clear up before long, and the serene sky will also return for you.”

It would appear by this letter that the political atmosphere of Liverpool had affected Panizzi in a manner that may seem strange to some of our readers. That the little “nuances” of character, which he notes as distinguishing the members of our different political parties, may be discerned by a keen observer, and the causes of their existence perceived, is not impossible; they seem to have struck him very forcibly, as a foreigner, in his short experience. Of the three sections as they existed at that time (it would be interesting to know his opinion of parties more recently) he remarks not less strongly than naively: “D—n the English Liberals! my experience (Roscoe and Shepherd excepted) shows me that the Tories are more polite than the Whigs, and much more so than the Radicals.”

Poor Ugo Foscolo, who, for some reason, had been unable to accept the invitation to Liverpool, and whom misfortune seemed to have marked for her own, died in London in penury on the 10th September, 1827. His death was at once announced to Panizzi by Giulio Bossi. The few books he left behind were purchased by some of his remaining friends; Panizzi bought as many as his means allowed him, and these he distributed among the most distinguished admirers 71of the deceased, one of whom was Mr. Macaulay, who acknowledged the presentation in the following letter:—
October 4, 1827.

Your letter was acceptable to me as a mark of kind remembrance, but it is quite unnecessary as an apology. I assure you that I considered myself, and not you, as the offending person on the occasion to which you refer. I hope, however, that either here or in Liverpool we shall hereafter enjoy many meetings without any such cross accident.

I have not yet found time to read your kind present, poor Foscolo’s book. I hope soon to be able to study it, which I shall do with additional interest on his account and on yours.
Yours, &c., &c.,
T. B. Macaulay.

No doubt the untimely death of Foscolo under such lamentable circumstances grieved his friend deeply; but it must have been to him a consolation that he had endeavoured to assuage the exile’s sufferings, although, as has been stated, the generous offer was not accepted. It is such sympathy for our fellow-man which stamps the character, and imparts to it the true ring of charity and worth.

The year 1828 may be said to have been the turning-point in Panizzi’s career, for it was then his departure from Liverpool took place. In that populous town, by his own personal merits and ability, he had won for himself, if not quite the traditional golden opinions of all sorts of men, at least that well-deserved meed of praise and respect to which all aspire. To this a contemporary bears witness and writes of him, “that he never abused a friend’s kindness, but always availed himself of it in a becoming 72manner, turning it to good account for himself, and at the same time reflecting honour upon him who bestowed it.”
Lord Brougham

Conspicuous amongst his friends was Mr. Brougham, then one of the most active members of the Council for the new University of London, now known as University College. At this college Panizzi was asked to occupy the chair of Italian Literature, an offer made to him solely through the influence of Brougham, with whom he became intimate in the spring of 1827, when they proceeded in company to Lancaster, to attend the famous trial of the Wakefield family, for conspiracy and the abduction of Miss Ellen Turner, who had been a pupil of Panizzi. That, among all the vicissitudes of his life, he had not forgotten his former cunning, appears from the statement that he rendered important assistance in this case, by his knowledge of law in general, and particularly, as might be supposed, of Roman law.

After serious and anxious consideration the offer of this professorship was accepted, mainly at the instigation of his learned friend, who strongly urged it upon him. This determination was not arrived at without much reluctance and regret; for, indeed, he was loth to abandon his friends at Liverpool, which he now regarded as his second home. His appointment bears 73date, May, 1828, but it was not till the 1st of October following that the college was formally opened.

Four days afterwards Brougham wrote to Lord Grey “that the delight of all who have been admitted to the university was perfect.... The professors and all concerned are therefore in the highest spirits.”

Amongst those who felt Panizzi’s departure from Liverpool most keenly was Roscoe, who, now in his sixty-fifth year, had become thoroughly accustomed to his frequent visits, and took the greatest delight in his conversation. The old savant, however, spared no trouble in giving him letters of introduction to friends, amongst them one to Samuel Rogers.
Samuel Rogers

“This is intended to be delivered to you by my highly-valued friend, Signor Antonio Panizzi, professor of the Italian language in the London University, who lived some years in Liverpool, whence he is now returning, after visiting the numerous friends whom he has made during his residence here. He is probably already known to you by his literary works, particularly his edition of Bojardo and Ariosto, now publishing; in addition to which I beg leave to add my testimony, not only to his abilities as an elegant scholar, but to his experienced worth as a sincere friend, and to his character as a man. It is, therefore, with great satisfaction, that I introduce him to your better acquaintance, 74being convinced that it cannot fail of being productive of pleasure and advantage to both.”

Panizzi, on his appointment as Professor, took up his abode at No. 2, Gower Street, North, close to the college, and delivered his first lecture in November, 1828. As was the case with his Liverpool lectures, so with these. They do not seem to have been reported, consequently no record remains. In 1837 he resigned the Professor’s chair.

The first of his London publications (“Extract from Italian Prose Writers, for the use of Students in the London University”) appeared in 1828, and was followed, soon afterwards, by “An Elementary Italian Grammar.” In addition to the compilation of these works, he now began to contribute frequently to the Reviews. The first of these contributions appeared in the Foreign Review and Continental Miscellany; it was a criticism of a work entitled “I Lombardi alia prima Crociata. T. Grassi. Milo., 1826. 8vo.” This was followed by another, a very interesting review of the “Storia d’Italia dal 1789 al 1814, da Carlo Botta. 8 vols. 1824. 12mo.” To this last the critic extends at least as much justice as mercy, and spares no pains to refute (which he does by the clearest evidence) many of the statements put forward in the work as historical facts. Of the author he gives the following notice:—

“A Piedmontese physician, who, in 1794, after two years’ imprisonment in Piedmont, for his warm support of the principles of the French Revolution, made his escape (Heaven knows how!) to France, and was employed in his professional capacity in the 75French army. When this army entered Piedmont, Botta fought with it against the King and his country. He went to Corfu in the capacity of army physician. The King of Piedmont having been obliged to abdicate, the French General, Joubert, appointed a provisional government, which the historian, of course, mentions with high eulogium, inasmuch as of this very government Signor Botta was a worthy member.”

As to his diction, the reviewer says:—“We wish not to criticize minutely Signor Botta’s style.... The Italian edition, however, we have read, and, save only school-boy themes and college exercises, more coldness, stiffness, and affectation is scarcely to be found.”

Apart, however, from the historical blunders and style of the work, another cause existed to call forth the hostile criticism of Panizzi. This will appear from the opening passage of the review, which runs thus:—“The name of Carlo Botta has long been known as that of an historian. While yet a member of the legislative body, during the reign of Napoleon, he published at Paris a ‘History of American Independence.’ Whether it so happened that his notions on liberty have been since wonderfully revolutionized, or his bitter vituperations of England and laudatory tropes in favour of America, propitiated the then rancorous hatred of the French towards this nation we know not, but his work was eminently successful.”

Undoubtedly it was Botta’s ill-feeling towards England, more than the demerits of the work itself, which called for such severe and scathing comments. 76The review was translated into Italian, and circulated amongst Botta’s compatriots.

Other articles on various subjects appeared in the same journal up to the year 1830.

The new college, though happily inaugurated, did not attract so many students to the lessons in the Italian language and literature as might have been anticipated, and the expected emoluments of the Professor fell proportionately short; nevertheless his reputation as a sound scholar and acute critic increased daily, and his circle of friends widely extended. Mr. Brougham, who assiduously cultivated his society, lost no opportunity of introducing him to the leading literary personages of the period, and to the most prominent members of the Liberal party. Among the former was Lady Dacre, whose translations from Petrarch were highly valued, yet not beyond their merit, by some of the ablest critics of the time. To her Panizzi was introduced in the following note from Brougham:—
‘March 3, 1829.

“My dear Lady Dacre,—This will be presented to you by Professor Panizzi, of whom my brother has already spoken to you, and of whom it is quite impossible to say too much, either as regards his accomplishments or his excellent amiable qualities.
Yours, etc., etc., H. Brougham.”

The acquaintance thus formed ripened into a lasting friendship. Of the frequent correspondence which this led to the chief and most interesting examples are the views exchanged on the interpretation of various passages from Dante and Petrarch. Lady 77Dacre, in fact, began very shortly to regard Panizzi as her literary adviser; and some years later, on the publication of her work, “Translations from the Italian” (1836), makes the following grateful mention of him:—“I have of late years been so fortunate as to make the acquaintance of Mr. Panizzi, of the British Museum, and to obtain also his approbation of these English versions of his great national poet. It is by his advice and that of other high authorities that I now make this collection of my attempts.”

Lady Dacre’s letters are beyond measure charming. The elegance of mind and purity of taste pervading them, with the rare beauty of their tone and style, must cause any one who may happen to have read them, though knowing nothing before, nor having even heard of Lady Dacre, to regret that the amiable and accomplished translator of Petrarch is not more extensively appreciated.

A passage from one of her earlier letters seems worth extracting, as showing her estimate of the best known English translator of Dante, although the comments it calls for may lead to a slight digression from the line of the narrative:—“As to Cary’s translation of ‘La Divina Commedia,’ I still hold translating Dante as an impossibility.... Cary does not satisfy me, for, as he gave himself all the latitude of blank verse, I cannot help thinking he might have done more justice to the gems.”

With the opinion expressed in the first clause of this extract few will disagree. Lady Dacre, indeed, might have extended her sentence to other poets besides Dante, and, it may be said, to poets in general of any marked eminence.

78Of these poets, or of any save those of the second or third class, to which may be added certain of the satirical and didactic category, it is not too much to assert that nothing that could be called a sufficient translation has yet been accomplished. By translation is here meant not a mere rendering, however faithful and intelligent, of the words, phrases, and plain meaning, but a transfusion, by the translator’s own genius, of the spirit of the original into the ordinary diction, idioms and peculiarities of another language. Pope and Dryden have, perhaps, arrived nearest this result; but, too great themselves, they have so imbued their greater originals with their own spirit—a spirit in many respects differing widely from the classical, that their versions may with more justice be called paraphrases than translations. Still, if there are degrees of impossibility, Dante is fully entitled to a place in the first class of such impossibilities.

To Lady Dacre’s assertion, however, of the facility which Cary ought to have derived from his use of blank verse, exception may well be taken. Although in some cases, as in translating Petrarch, it may be difficult, and in others, as in rendering certain classic metres, impossible, to reproduce in the alien language the exact form of verse employed in the original (and with the form of his verse, it must be observed, the spirit of the poet is always indissolubly connected), yet it is necessary to a good and true translation that this course should be adopted wherever practicable. Dante is a rhymed poet, and the system both of his rhymes and of his verse is by no means uncommon in English poetry; to none, it might be supposed, more 79familiar than to Lady Dacre. For this reason alone it would appear that if Dante, of all poets, is to be clothed anew in English garb, the most fitting attire for him would not be blank verse.

These remarks are merely by the way, our work is not particularly concerned with poetry, but with the life of Panizzi, who was then (1829) engaged upon his “Orlando Innamorato di Bojardo: Orlando Furioso di Ariosto: with an Essay on the Romantic Narrative Poetry of the Italians; Memoirs, and Notes by Antonio Panizzi.” 9 vols. 8vo. London, 1830-34.
Ariosto

The first volume of this edition, dedicated to his benefactor Roscoe, contains a dissertation on Italian Romantic Poetry, with analyses of the “Teseide” of Boccaccio, the “Morgante” of Luigi Pulci, and the “Mambriano” of Francesco Bello, besides other Italian romantic epics. The second volume is prefaced by a memoir of Bojardo, with an essay making him full amends for the long usurpation of his fame by his adaptor Berni. It also contains a life of Ariosto.

The corrupt text of the “Orlando Innamorato” is restored, with great acumen (from a collation of rare editions, principally contributed by the Right Hon. Thomas Grenville and Earl Spencer), and, as well as that of the “Furioso” (published later on, 1834), is accompanied by long and learned notes in English, “from an idea that they would prove more acceptable 80to the English reader, who will gladly excuse any errors, when he reflects that, had I not preferred his language, he would not have enjoyed the beautiful translations by Lady Dacre; W. S. Rose, Esq., and W. Sotheby, Esq., which adorn this introductory essay.”

The first part is well worthy the consideration of such as are curious in tracing the windings of the stream of civilization from its fountain head. In this, with great ingenuity, the author describes the passions and incidents of the most remarkable period in the history of medi?val times—the age of chivalry—which institution he attributes to Celtic sources. Chivalry raised Europe from its barbarous condition. Every institution, indeed, is of lowly origin. Love, naturally a brutal appetite, only becomes refined by emulation among men, advancing knowledge, and civilization. Panizzi (p. 29) tells us that the Italians were indebted to the popular songs sung in the north for their long prose romances, giving, as an example of the most popular and inspiriting of these songs, the Lays of Roland and Charlemagne, sung by Taillefer, the Norman standard-bearer who led the charge at the battle of Hastings. “If,” Panizzi continues, at p. 34, “the original destination of poetry were in every nation of the world to celebrate the glorious actions of heroes, one of the provinces of England, possessing one of the most ancient languages extant, would seem to have surpassed all other countries in the application of the art. All the chivalrous fictions, since spread throughout Europe, appear to have had their birth in Wales.... So famous were their lays in France, 81that the French trouvères were accustomed to cite the British originals as vouchers for the truth of their stories, while some of them were translated by Marie de France. A glance at these translations will show the lays to be of British origin.”

To this ingenious theory it is difficult, without considerable further inquiry, to give so unqualified an assent as the Editor of Bojardo appears to have done. The subject, however, opens up a field of discussion far too wide to be entered into in this biography.

Besides Panizzi’s valuable notes, his work is further embellished with a selection from Lady Dacre’s translations from Petrarch. The peculiar skill with which this most elegant authoress could transfer to her own language the graces of her Italian original will be best presented to the reader by an example of her art:—
And Forisene was in her heart aware,
That love of her was Oliver’s sole care.
And because Love not willingly excuses
One who is loved, and loveth not again;
(For tyrannous were deem’d the rule he uses,
Should they who sue for pity sue in vain;
What gracious lord his faithful liege refuses?)
So when the gentle dame perceived the pain,
That well-nigh wrought to death her valiant knight,
Her melting heart began his love requite.
And from her eyes soft beamed the answering ray,
That Oliver’s soul-thrilling glance returns;
Love in these gleamy lightnings loves to play,
Till but one flame two youthful bosoms burns.
Or Forisena intanto come astuta
Dell’ amor d’ Ulivier s’era avveduta.
82E perchè amor malvolentier perdona
Ch’ e’ non sia alfin sempre amato chi ama,
E non saria sua legge giusta e buona,
Di non trovar merzè chi pur la chiama;
Nè giusto sire il suo servo abbandona:
Poi che s’accorse questa gentil dama,
Come per lei si moriva il Marchese,
Subito tutta del suo amor s’accese.
E cominciò con gli occhi a rimandare
Indietro a Ulivier gli ardenti dardi
Che amor sovente gli facea gettare
Acciò che solo un foco due cor ardi.

When the work was published, copies were presented by the author to his most intimate friends, and he received, amongst others, the following letters of acknowledgment:—

From Mr. W. S. Rose[B] (whose ire at Pickering’s device is not altogether unjustifiable):—
“Brighton, 29 April, 1830.

“Dear Panizzi,

I have seen nothing to quarrel with in your book, but will read it again, and with a more exceptious disposition.

If Pickering be not squeezed to death in his own press, his nose at least ought to be rubbed in his own frontispieces (I mean title-pages) while the ink is still wet, ... as an appropriate punishment. I do not blame him for his imitation, but for his bad imitation, of Aldus. His symbol and disposition of words are not offensive.
83

Compare this with Mr. Pickering’s.

Anglus is not an adjective.

Why have we Arabic instead of Roman numerals? which would have harmonized with the rest of the letterpress.
Ever yours,
W. S. Rose.”

B. Wm. Stewart Rose was born in 1775. He resided in Italy for two years, during which time he acquired the most accurate knowledge of the language and literature of the country. In 1823 he began a condensed translation in prose and verse of Bojardo’s Orlando Innamorato and Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso. He died in 1843.

84From Roscoe:—
“Lodge Lane, May 1st, 1830.

“My dear Friend,

I have just received a copy of the first volume of your edition of the great works of Bojardo and of Ariosto, and feel myself greatly obliged by the honour you have done me by dedicating them to me; an honour to which I have no pretensions but in the partiality of your friendship, which renders such a memorial of it truly valuable.

I flatter myself that through the blessing of Providence I may yet be favoured with such a state of health as may enable me to enjoy the perusal of this introductory volume, from which I anticipate great pleasure.
I am, with the sincerest esteem and attachment,
Ever faithfully yours,
W. Roscoe.”

And from Macaulay, dated “Calcutta, 1st January, 1835.” (This letter has reference not only to Panizzi’s “Orlando Innamorato,” but to another work of his, shortly to be mentioned, that is, the edition of Bojardo.)

“Dear Panizzi,

Many thanks for your kind and welcome present. It was acceptable to me on account of its intrinsic interest, and still more acceptable as a proof that I am kindly remembered by one by whom I should be sorry to be forgotten.

In two years or little more I shall be on my return to England. There, or, as I would rather hope, in your own beautiful country, we shall meet, and talk over that fine literature which you have done so much to illustrate. I have never given up my intention of writing a review of your edition of Bojardo. I never found time to read the poem through in England. But here I have had that pleasure, and have been exceedingly gratified both by the text and the 85notes. I read Berni’s Rifacimento long ago. But I like Bojardo better.

At present my official duties take up a great and increasing portion of my time.

The hours before breakfast are still my own. But I give them to ancient literature.

It is but little that I have lately been able to spare to Italian, yet I feel all that Milton has so beautifully expressed,
Quamquam etiam vestri nunquam meminisse pigebit,
Pastores Tusci, Musis operata juventus;
Hic Charis, atque Lepos; et Tuscus, tu quoque, Damon,
Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab urbe.
O, ego quantus eram, gelidi cum stratus ad Arni
Murmura, populeumque nemus, qua mollior herba,
Carpere nunc violas, nunc summas carpere myrtos,
Et potui Lycid? certantem audire Menalcam![C]

But of these things we shall have opportunities of talking hereafter.
Believe me ever, yours, &c., &c.,
T. B. Macaulay.”

Macaulay, no doubt, intended to bestow on Panizzi’s book something more than a mere acknowledgment of its presentation. In a letter addressed to Macvey Napier, dated 29 April, 1830, he says:—“There are two subjects on which I think of writing for the next number (of the ‘Edinburgh Review’). ‘The Romantic Poetry of the Italians’ is one of them. A book on the subject has just been published by my friend Panizzi, Professor in the London University, which will afford a good opportunity. I have long had this project in my head.”

C. Epitaphium Damonis, line 125, sqq.

86On the 16th October, 1830, he, however, writes again, saying, “My article on the Italian Poets must be postponed till the spring.” And again on the 8th October, 1838, writing from London, to Napier, “I think of writing an article on Panizzi’s edition of Bojardo, with some remarks on the romantic poetry of the Italians generally. This I can do as well, indeed better, on my journey than in London. I will try to send it off by the middle of December, or earlier.”

The intention, however, thus twice, at all events, expressed, was never carried into effect, and an essay which would probably have taken its place with the best of Macaulay’s has been lost to the world.

From what has been said it will seem that the book received due appreciation from some, at least, of those well capable of judging of its value.

This short notice of its reception would be incomplete were all account omitted of a curious but somewhat unpleasant episode in the history of the work in question, to touch upon which it is necessary to anticipate a little the course of events. The fons et origo mali is best told in Panizzi’s own words, which are taken from a letter dated 27th March, 1835, and addressed to the proprietors of The Foreign Quarterly Review:—

“In the last number of The Foreign Quarterly Review (called XXIX., but in fact No. 1 by your editor) (Vol. XV., p. 48), there is a lucubration on Italian Romantic Poetry, in the shape of an article on the Orlando Innamorato and Furioso, edited by me, in which occurs the following passage, intended, I suppose, as a sample of the courteous and gentlemanly 87style of literary criticism which is to grace this journal under the new régime:—

“The present beautiful edition of these poems has been prepared by a gentleman named Panizzi, one of those Italians who have been obliged to fly their country for their political opinions—a circumstance, by the way, as our readers must be aware, no ways conclusive in proof of the moral dignity of the exiled patriots’ souls. Anytus, we know, was one of the men of the Pir?us who delivered Athens from her Thirty Tyrants, and yet Anytus was afterwards one of the accusers of Socrates! To this a case somewhat parallel will presently appear. In his own country Mr. Panizzi was, as we are assured, utterly unknown as a man of letters; here, through the patronage of the ex-Chancellor chiefly, he enjoys the barren honour of being professor of Italian in the University of London, and the substantial situation of one of the Under-Librarians of the British Museum. He is also, we understand, engaged for a handsome remuneration to catalogue the library of the Royal Society,—two appointments which gave great offence to those narrow-minded persons who think that charity should begin at home, and that deserving Englishmen of letters, who have families to support, and are able to write out the titles of books as well as a foreigner, might have been found without any very anxious search. Be this as it may, Mr. Panizzi, we believe, performs the duties of his office in a most efficient manner, and he is not ungrateful, but seems perfectly content with his lot, for while his “co-mates and brothers in exile” are sighing after the beautiful country they have lost, not a murmur or a sigh ever escapes him. Mr. Panizzi writes and speaks English with facility, as is proved by the present work, though what motive but vanity could have induced him to employ it in preference to his beautiful mother-language, we are unable to conceive; for, surely, any one who is curious about the original text of the Orlando Innamorato, must feel rather offended than otherwise at being presented with English notes. This dexterity in 88writing our language has also tempted Mr. Panizzi to become a reviewer: and here it is that his character appears in a most unpleasant light, and he becomes, as we have just hinted, a kind of literary Anytus. In conversation and in writing he is the incessant, and we may add virulent, assailant of the literary reputation of his illustrious compatriot, Rossetti, whose Comment on Dante, that extraordinary monument of erudition and sagacity, he would fain make the world believe to be a tissue of ignorance and absurdity. Nay, should any friend of Mr. Panizzi’s even hint that he is disposed to regard Rossetti’s system as well founded, his own works, if he has published any, will be made to feel the wrath of the learned librarian. But we leave the critic, and turn to the essayist and annotator.’”

On these strictures, just as fair as they are to the point, with reference to his character as an author, Panizzi pertinently remarks:—

“Did you choose an editor to start a magazine of calumnies, or to continue a review of works? If the latter was your object, can you say what the above slang has to do with the Italian Romantic Poetry, and my edition of Bojardo and Ariosto?... That I was utterly unknown in Italy as a man of letters, when, scarcely twenty-five years of age, I fled the country, is perfectly true; and, had I continued there, I doubt not that I should have died without ever being known as such; but the question propounded is, whether my edition of Bojardo and Ariosto is good or bad? As the Reviewer says that ‘it has everything to recommend it,’ is it discreditable to me that I should have turned a man of letters, when driven into exile with nothing in the world but my head, which I had the wit to keep on my shoulders, although not without trouble?
‘Indignata malis mens est succumbere: seque
Pr?stitit invictam viribus usa suis.
*    *    *    *    *    *
89En ego cum patria caream gazisque domoque,
Raptaque sint, adimi qu? potuere mihi;
Ingenio tamen ipse meo comitorque fruorque.
Hostis in hoc potuit juris habere nihil.’”[D]

D. Paraphrased:—
Uprising in unconquer’d strength, the soul
Scornfully braves the storms of fate.
*    *    *    *    *    *
So I, bereft of fortune, house, and home—
Of all that could be torn away,
My talents still retain and can employ:
O’er these no foe has aught of power.

What seems especially to have aroused Panizzi’s anger (and herein may be remarked his sincere affection for the land of his refuge and rest), was that he should be called a “foreigner.” If to be domiciled in England and naturalized by an act of her legislature makes a man an Englishman, then was he an Englishman to all the then necessary intents and purposes. “It is true,” says he, “that I am not ungrateful; I love my adoptive country as much as the one wherein I was born, and being able to gain a very honourable and independent subsistence, by making use of those talents which Providence has been pleased to bestow on me, no wonder that I do not allow murmurs and sighs to escape me.” His alleged disposition towards Rossetti, the foundation for which he declares to have been derived from advantage taken of certain private conversation, grossly misrepresented by his reviewer, he thus vindicates from a charge which he declares to be “utterly false.”

“I dissent from Mr. Rossetti’s views concerning Dante; but I have a high opinion of his talents and acquirements; I respect them too much to be virulent 90when speaking of his works, which I do not incessantly attack. The contrary assertion made by the reviewer is a wilful and deliberate falsehood, charitably invented and propagated to cause mischief and strife between Mr. Rossetti and myself. I once stated freely my reasons for differing from Mr. Rossetti’s system concerning Dante; but I then said, that I knew him to be a very clever man, and I added that his writings on the subject do much honour to his ingenuity, and his very mistakes indicate a lively imagination. Is this the language of ‘a virulent assailant’?”

In treating another passage in the article our author displays, as well he may, more of contempt than anger. His reviewer, one Mr. Keightley, drew a comparison between Panizzi’s literary merits and his own—by no means in favour of the former, a practice, though decidedly blameable, not so rare as to call for lengthy notice here. A couple of sonnets translated from Bojardo by this same Mr. Keightley are actually inserted in the review. Examples are to be found, both in early and late history, of an author praising his own works anonymously, and if by means of self-laudation he can smite his enemies secretly his acuteness has been thought all the more deserving of admiration.

To what motive can the savage tone and evident personal rancour of this article be imputed? The office of the critic has for a long time past been discharged fairly enough; if not with an undue excess of leniency and generosity, at least (from the critic’s own point of view) with justice and honour. Politics, and such other matters as may be taken to be the 91common property of the public, have, it is true, been known to infuse something of what might at first sight be called acerbity into his style; but as he who in fair and open fight, complaining of blows, would meet with scant pity, so the “benighted Tory” or the “reckless and destructive Radical,” or possibly the propounder of some latest theory in literature, science, or art, must put up smilingly with the rubs which it may please his adverse judge to give him, remembering always that the office of that judge is to suppress the ignorant, to repress the arrogant, and occasionally, though of course but very rarely, to oppress those who are neither the one nor the other. Still, that the gall of personal animosity should mix itself with the ink and infect the pen of the reviewer is plainly a thing so utterly monstrous as to astonish us on hearing of its occurrence more than once in an ordinary lifetime. There is, unfortunately, too clear evidence that, not uninfluenced by some such dark motive, the critic now under notice perpetrated the article in question.

It seems that about two years before the review appeared either Panizzi made Mr. Keightley’s acquaintance or Mr. Keightley Panizzi’s.

The relations between the two—so long as they lasted—seem to have been of an amicable kind. Panizzi assisted his new acquaintance in the Italian works on which he was engaged, and, although he never appears to have been inclined to admit him to any very intimate friendship, yet a good deal of intercourse seems to have taken place between them, especially in matters relating to the peculiar study 92with which each was occupied. Panizzi, indeed, acknowledges that the last time he met Mr. Keightley the latter insisted upon his accepting a copy of his works, and that he (Panizzi) “peremptorily objected” to doing so. It maybe admitted that this was somewhat discourteous, and perhaps hinc ill? lachrym?. Be that as it may, what must have been his astonishment to receive, three months afterwards, the following letter from his quondam friend, of whom during that period he had quite lost sight:—

“Sir,

When next you stab a friend in the dark, if you wish to be unknown, hide your hand a little better than you have done in my case. But I have reason to suppose that you did not desire concealment, as I find it was commonly known that you were the author of the article in question. Indeed no one who knew your style, &c., could doubt for a moment. I never saw that article till last Saturday, and before I had read the first column I named the writer of it. It is not safe to attack one with whom you have been in the habit of conversing. He has too many keys.

When I recollect that it was written at the very time I was endeavouring to serve you, I must regard the action as a piece of the basest treachery and darkest malignity that can be conceived. I should not condescend to notice it, but that I required to inform you that I know you, and that our acquaintance is at an end. ‘I bide my time,’ and may yet repay you, but not by a stab in the dark.
I am, yours, &c., &c.,
Thomas Keightley.”

Following closely upon this letter came Mr. Keightley’s article in the Foreign Quarterly. It may be safe to conclude here—hoc ergo post propter hoc.

93Panizzi, his temper already not unreasonably ruffled by the letter, appears to have been terribly put out by the Review. He winds up his own appeal to the proprietors of the “Foreign Quarterly” with a burst of indignation and menace, which, had it been carried into execution might have brought him into collision with the laws of his “adoptive country.”

Dreading and deprecating any such forcible expression of his ire by the outraged author, Mr. W. S. Rose sent him the poetical epistle which we subjoin.
“Brighton, April 15, 1835.
“My Wife and I are certain you are better
Than you’re reported, reasoning from your letter;
In which you’ve blown your enemy to bits (I
Think) and deservedly, my dear Panizzi:
But do not in your honest rage outrun
The rule the ghostly king enjoined his son;
Tho’ you “speak daggers—use none”—this I know
You’d scarcely do—I mean don’t use your toe,
Or break his head, or pull him by the nose.
Always yours truly,
W. S. Rose.”

Panizzi himself seems to have possessed somewhat of a poetic faculty, if we may judge by the sole specimen extant of his skill in the art—a translation of one of Moore’s songs, “Her last words at parting.” In confirmation of this, it may be observed that the canon before assumed in speaking of Lady Dacre on Cary, namely, that the translator should conform to the style of the verse in the original, has here been overlooked. For this neglect there may be cogent reasons. It would be difficult to adapt Moore’s 94anap?stic lines to Italian verse in the same measure, and, when adapted they would in all probability, prove inelegant, and perhaps unnatural; even were this not the case, liberties which would not be admissible with an important poem, might very pardonably be taken with the trifling composition of Moore.

The stanzas set out below are neatly turned, and convey the idea of the original in elegant and musical versification:—
L’ultime sue parole
Quando mi disse addio
Scordar giammai poss ’io?
Meco saranno ognor;
Qual melodioso accento
Che l’ alma ne consola
Benchè quel suon s’invola
Nè piu risuoni allor.
Venga l’avversa sorte,
M’ oltraggierà, ma invano;
Sempre il mio talismano
Sarà quel suon d’amor.
“Rammenta nell’ assenza,
Fra le ritorte e pene,
Un cor che ti vuol bene
Sol per te batte ancor.”
Da dolce fonte in oltra
Il pellegrino errante,
Per un sol breve istante
Gusta del suo sapor.
Ma si provede intanto
Dell’ acque ricche e care
Di quelle goccie rare
Che danno a lui valor.
95Così al rigor del fato
Nell’ eremo della vita,
La fonte mia gradita
Sarà quel suon d’ amor.
“Rammenta nell’ assenza,
Fra le ritorte e pene,
Un cor che ti vuol bene
Per te sol batte ancor.”

This, however, is merely given as an instance of versatility in a genius that was more fully developed and more usefully employed, in illustrating and setting forth, so far as such work is concerned, to the world the poetry of others. The “Orlando Innamorato,” &c., &c., was soon followed by the “Sonetti e Canzone del Poeta Clarissimo, Matteo Maria Bojardo, Conte di Scandiano. 4o, Milano, 1835.” This remarkably handsome volume, in beautiful type, and extremely scarce, only 50 copies of it having been printed, is inscribed “All onorevolissimo Signor Tommaso Grenville, &c., &c.”

As in the case of the former work so in the execution of this one, Mr. Grenville had kindly given his aid by the loan of his two editions of Bojardo’s Sonnets to the editor. The correspondence between the two gives ample proof of the genuine love of his subject for its own sake felt by Panizzi, and affords satisfactory corroboration of the disinterestedness in money matters, to which his old pupil, Miss Martin, of Liverpool, has borne witness. Mr. Grenville was desirous that the editor should receive some remuneration for his labours. The manner in which this desire is declared, and the offering with which the writer supports 96it, cannot fail to receive its due meed of praise for consummate delicacy and good feeling. We subjoin a few extracts in evidence:—
“B. M., Sept. 12, 1834.

“Dear Sir,

As this publication, or rather edition, is intended for you I was anxious to obtain your approbation, well knowing besides that if I were so fortunate as to obtain it I might hope not to be reasonably found fault with by men of taste. To tell you the truth I fancy the volume (as I almost see it printed, pressed, and bound) as a very fine one. Do not laugh at my conceit. I never did anything so much con amore. With notes and all it will come to about 300 pages.
Yours, &c.,
A. Panizzi.”
“Vale Royal, 15 Sept., 1834.

“Dear Sir,

I have always been truly sensible to the kindness with which you have satisfied the occasional literary enquiries with which you have allowed me to trouble you, and with which you have taken so friendly an interest in the details of my small collection of books, and in its gradual improvement, but to permit, if I may use such a word, or to encourage you to incur the expense of printing a work of 300 pages for me without any intention of remunerating yourself by the sale of the work, is what upon no consideration I ought or could be brought, as far as I am concerned, to consent to. At the same time, I cannot but be disposed most gratefully to accept your present, and most anxiously to assist in promoting your literary labours, so useful to all readers of taste and so creditable to the distinguished editor. As an humble associate in so laudable an undertaking, I trust you will have the goodness to accept me as such, and have therefore taken the liberty of enclosing a small advance, as you will see in the note to Coutts which accompanies this. By your kind concurrence in this indispensable 97course you will increase your claim upon my grateful acknowledgments for your welcome present, and will thus relieve me from difficulties otherwise insuperable. I cannot but add likewise my earnest wish that you would be induced, after you have indulged your liberality in your presents to your friends, to give the work to the public, and to derive from it the profit to which you are so justly entitled. Once more, dear Sir, accept my grateful thanks for your intended present, which will be a most valuable addition to my library.
Yours, &c.,
Thomas Grenville.”
“B. M., Sept. 17, 1834.

“Dear Sir,

I have just received the kind note with which you have honoured me, and I cannot conceal how greatly mortified I am at the indispensable condition, as you call it, on which you will do me the honour of allowing me to dedicate to you the edition of Bojardo’s Lyrical Poems. I assure you that if you insist upon it, it will be a very great disappointment to me. I have taken a liking to Bojardo’s poems because they are, in my opinion, remarkably fine, because I owe him a good deal (since it is through him that I have had the honor of becoming acquainted with you more than would have been likely to be the case had he not written the Innamorato) and because he was born in my native province; and I, having been in the habit of spending many of my younger days at Scandiano, feel great pleasure in being occupied with the works of a poet whose name is connected in my mind with so many dear recollections. I intend printing a limited number of copies of the lyrical poems, because few persons can appreciate them, and still fewer will buy them; whilst the present will be more acceptable if only a few copies of a book not published for sale, be offered to an amateur.

It was this last circumstance which induced me to beg of you to condescend to have the book inscribed to you: for as it would be seen only by those who knew us both, or even 98either of us, a dedication could not be considered but what it really is intended to be, an expression of gratitude and respect really felt and due. Were I to say that the thought of editing a volume which was to be so inscribed did not render the occupation still more agreeable than it would have been, I should not state the fact; but I can truly say that the edition will be proceeded with at all events even should you not allow me to offer it to you—a determination which I hope you will not take. You will see from this that you neither cause, permit, nor encourage expense, and that consequently I cannot consent to your bearing any.

With many and many thanks for your kindness, and in hope that you will not deprive me of the anticipated pleasure of inscribing my little volume to you. I have, &c.,
A. Panizzi.”
“Vale Royal, 19th Sept., 1834.

“Dear Sir,

I had hoped to overcome the delicacy of your scruples in a matter which appeared to me likely to press very unreasonably upon you; but your letter expresses so strong a sense of mortification and disappointment at the earnestness of my proposal, that I can only say that I will leave the decision upon it entirely to your own consideration and judgment.

     *      *      *      *      *      *      *

I have only once more to repeat that my former letter had no other object than that of doing what might be gratifying to you, and that I wish you to do about it whatever is most agreeable to yourself, and that you may be assured that in all events I shall be highly honoured and gratified by your inscribing the book to me.—I am, &c.,
Thomas Grenville.”
“Brit. Mus., Sept. 22nd, 1834.

“Dear Sir,

Your letter of the 19th inst., which I have just had the honour of receiving, by granting the request I made on my 99own terms, and granting it in such a manner renders me still more deeply indebted to you. **** I can fully enter into the motives which dictated both your letters, and I see in both of them a fresh proof of that delicate kindness to me which I have so often experienced, which I appreciate to its extent, and which I shall never forget.—Believe me, yours, &c., &c.
A. Panizzi.”

In returning from our dissertation on Panizzi’s works to his life, we bring the narrative back to the date 1830-1831, it may be observed, when Europe was in a state of revolution. In Italy fresh disturbances indicated that the spirit of discontent was unallayed—especially in Modena—where Francis IV. continued his oppressive government; while in Piedmont, a more earnest and conscientious people founded an association under the name of Giovine Italia; amongst them was the Genoese Giuseppe Mazzini, who forwarded an address (1831) to the King of Sardinia, praying for a Constitutional Statute.

For this act Mazzini was forced into exile, and from that time may be said to date the end of Carbonarism, which, overpowered by the new scheme of not only uniting Italy, but of establishing a Republican form of government, seemed to have alienated those that were left of the older patriots who had sacrificed life and property ten years previously.

The King, Charles Felix, died, leaving behind him the reputation of having ruled his kingdom after the fashion most worthy of the “rois fainéants”, and as an unworthy nephew of Emanuel Philibert 100and Charles Emanuel. His death, by a strange coincidence, happened on the very day, in the same year that one of His Majesty’s most bitter enemies, Antonio Panizzi, entered the Institution which afterwards he so much honoured.

In England the death of George IV. (1830), and the unpopularity of the Duke of Wellington, largely contributed to the overthrow of the Tory party. In France, too, the expulsion of Charles X. (in consequence of his attempts on the constitution and the press), had its influence on the masses in this country; the elections greatly favoured the Whig party, and Mr. Brougham, raised to the Peerage on the 22nd of November, 1830, took the earliest opportunity, as an ex-officio Trustee of the British Museum, to place his Italian friend in that noble establishment, under the title of Extra-Assistant Librarian.

On the 27th of April, 1831, his appointment was signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Howley, and by the Lord Chancellor, Brougham; the House of Commons having been dissolved, there was no Speaker at the time. Panizzi had to give, according to usage, two securities of ￡500 each, which were promptly forthcoming in the persons of his two earliest friends of Liverpool, Mr. Ewart and Mr. Haywood.

Thus far have we drawn from the materials at hand, a sketch of that early career which was to lead to the achievement of a lasting literary reputation, and the exercise of an energetic administrative faculty. We have glanced at the struggles of the incipient jurisconsult, the patriotic agitator, the outlaw, the homeless fugitive, the indigent teacher, the literary aspirant, 101and, in every vicissitude, the man of many warmly-attached friends. We have traced his progress until he attained the position wherein his abilities had extended scope, wherein his influence was to be beneficially felt, and his success consummated. The record of his life to this period is of itself the most valuable testimonial to his character and conduct; but while we lay sufficient stress on his own exertions, let us not forget to award the share of honour due to Lord Brougham, who, discarding national prejudice, recognised the capacity, and gave ample sphere to the energy and genius of Antonio Panizzi.