Home
  By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII ]

Look for this book on Amazon


We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: The life and correspondence of Sir Anthony Panizzi, Volume 2 (of 2)
Author: Fagan, Louis
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.


*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The life and correspondence of Sir Anthony Panizzi, Volume 2 (of 2)" ***


(This file was produced from images generously made


------------------------------------------------------------------------

                          Transcriber’s Note:

This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. A carat ‘^’ is
used to denote a superscripted characters. Where multiple characters are
subscripted, they are delimited by curly braces (e.g. le 1^{er}
Septembre).

All footnotes have been resequenced, from A to L, and moved to directly
follow the paragraphs where they are referenced.

Illustrations have been moved slightly in the text to appear on a
paragraph break. Note that they had no captions, expecting the reader to
identify the subjects from the context. In this text the position of the
illustration is indicated as [Illustration: ]. There are
decorative images at each chapter break, and as footers at the end of
several chapters and appear simply as [Illustration].

Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.

                 THE LIFE OF SIR ANTHONY PANIZZI K.C.B

[Illustration]

                                VOL. II.

                                  THE

                        LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE

                                   OF

                        SIR ANTHONY PANIZZI KCB

             LATE PRINCIPAL LIBRARIAN OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM
                          SENATOR OF ITALY ETC

                             BY LOUIS FAGAN
        OF THE DEPARTMENT OF PRINTS AND DRAWINGS BRITISH MUSEUM

                             IN TWO VOLUMES

[Illustration]

                      AUTHORISED AMERICAN EDITION
             TO WHICH IS APPENDED A THIRD VOLUME CONTAINING
       TWENTY YEARS PERSONAL AND BIBLIOGRAPHICAL REMINISCENCES OF
                     PANIZZI AND THE BRITISH MUSEUM
                               1845-1865

                 BY HENRY STEVENS OF VERMONT FSA MA ETC

[Illustration: Bibliography      The Tree of Knowledge]

                               VOLUME II

                  BOSTON: HOUGHTON MIFFLIN AND COMPANY

RIVERSIDE CAMBRIDGE & ASTOR PLACE NEW-YORK

                               MdcccLxxxi



                    The Reminiscences Copyright 1881
                      by HENRY STEVENS of Vermont

                         _All rights reserved_

[Illustration]

                                  THE
                        LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE
                                   OF
                        SIR ANTHONY PANIZZI KCB

[Illustration]

                               CONTENTS.

                               CHAPTER XIV

 Retirement of Sir Henry Ellis—Selection of Principal           1 to 26.
   Librarian—Securities—Mr. John
   Kenyon—Appointment—Proceedings in the House of Commons


                               CHAPTER XV

 Sir W. Temple--His Collection—Correspondence—Museum           27 to 53.
   Staff—Visit to Brescello—Archduke Maximilian’s Visit to
   the Museum—Reports of Heads of
   Departments—Correspondence—Mr. C. T. Newton’s Expedition
   to Budrum—Blacas Collection

                               CHAPTER XVI

 Desire to visit Naples—Pius IX.—Ferdinand II.—Revolution,     54 to 73.
   1848—Poerio and Settembrini—“Giovine Italia”—Mr.
   Gladstone’s Visit to Naples


                              CHAPTER XVII

 Cardinal Alberoni—Panizzi and Lord                            74 to 98.
   Shrewsbury—Correspondence arising from Mr. Gladstone’s
   Visit to Naples


                              CHAPTER XVIII

 Death of Panizzi’s Sister—At Rome—Naples—Mr. George          99 to 111.
   Fagan—Interview with Ferdinand II.—Spies—The “Vicaria”


                               CHAPTER XIX

 Legion of Honour, &c.—Ecclesiastical Titles Bill—Serjeant   112 to 125.
   Shee’s Bill—Concordat of 1855


                               CHAPTER XX

 Devising Means for Escape of Settembrini—Mode of Carrying   126 to 143.
   on Correspondence—Senesi Collection—Mazza Affair—Loss of
   the “Isle of Thanet“


                               CHAPTER XXI

 Bianchini’s Appointment—Settembrini Fund—Convention with    144 to 163.
   Argentine Republic—Correspondence—Orsini—Napoleon III.


                              CHAPTER XXII

 Departure of Neapolitan Prisoners—At Cadiz—Cork—“Captain    164 to 184.
   James”—Poerio’s Letter—Ferdinand II.


                              CHAPTER XXIII

 Italian Unity—Victor Emmanuel II.—War of                   #185 to 214.
   1859—Farini—Cavour—Correspondence—Poerio on Southern
   Italy—Sir James Lacaita—Visit to Turin—The Biographer


                              CHAPTER XXIV

 England in 1859—Relations with France—First Visit to        215 to 236.
   Biarritz—Napoleon III.—Letters from Mr. Gladstone, M.
   Merimee, M. Fould, and Mr. E. Ellice


                               CHAPTER XXV

 Ill-health—Extra Leave—Deputy Principal                     237 to 247.
   Librarian—Departure to Naples—Storm—Naples—Excursions—La
   Cava, Monte Cassino—Monastic Societies—Return to England


                              CHAPTER XXVI

 Death of Mr. Ellice—Garibaldi in London—Massimo             248 to 272.
   d’Azeglio—Foscolo’s Remains removed to
   Florence—Panizzi’s Desire to Retire—Correspondence—Death
   of Lord Palmerston—Superannuation
   Allowance—Portrait—Museum Staff—Private Residence


                              CHAPTER XXVII

 Prosper Merimee—Empress Eugenie—Prince Imperial             273 to 296.


                             CHAPTER XXVIII

 Senator of Italy—Correspondence—Illness—“Priests” Athenæum  297 to 309.
   Club—Knighthood—Friends—Death—Etching—The End


 Appendix                                                    311 to 336.

[Illustration]



                       ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II.

                                                                   PAGE.
 CAVOUR (COUNT)                                                      192
 FERDINAND II.                                                        55
 FOSCOLO’S TOMB AT CHISWICK                                          251
 GARIBALDI (GENERAL)                                                 249
 GLADSTONE (THE RIGHT HON. W. E.)                                     70
 MACAULAY (LORD)                                                      15
 MERIMEE (PROSPER)                                                   273
 ORSINI (FELICE)                                                     154
 PANIZZI (SIR ANTHONY)                                          THE END.
 PIUS IX.                                                             57
 POERIO (CARLO)                                                       64
 PRINCE IMPERIAL                                                     291
 SETTEMBRINI (LUIGI)                                                  67

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XIV

_Retirement of Sir Henry Ellis; Selection of Principal Librarian;
    Securities; Mr. Kenyon; Appointment; Proceedings in the House of
    Commons._


An important phase in the life of Panizzi has now been entered upon; but
before detailing the facts, we premise that the high position then
within his grasp was not achieved without considerable pain and
heartburning, owing to the ungenerous statements of the Press.

Sir Henry Ellis having attained, in 1856, his seventy-ninth year, it was
not a matter of surprise that his failing energies became inadequate to
the duties entailed upon him as head of the British Museum; indeed, he
must himself have felt the necessity of retiring. He was, however,
forestalled in this intention by a private request, delicately conveyed
to him with liberal terms attached. The understanding was that he should
voluntarily resign, and should receive the full amount of his salary and
emoluments as a superannuation allowance. Complying with this offer, he
accordingly tendered his resignation, and, on the 9th of February, 1856,
the Trustees passed a resolution thanking him for his long services. No
sooner had this decision been made public than a certain newspaper,
having received information of his probable successor, was guilty of
publishing the annexed ungenerous paragraph, eminently calculated to
wound, as it did, the susceptible feelings of Panizzi:—

                                               “February 25th, 1856.

  “We understand that Sir Henry Ellis has resigned the situation of
  Principal Librarian. The majority of persons employed in that
  Institution, and of the public who frequent it, would be delighted at
  an event that ought to have occurred many years ago, if it were not
  that an extraordinary influence is likely to obtain the appointment
  for a foreigner. It is of the highest importance that this affront to
  British genius and character be avoided, and that the right man be put
  in the right place. When the Marquis of Lansdowne, from the best
  motives, made the previous unfortunate selection, there was a
  regulator that no longer exists; the vigilant interference of the
  lamented Joseph Hume often prevented official tyranny and petty
  vexation.”

In accordance with the Act of Parliament 26 Geo. II. cap. 22, the
Principal Librarian of the British Museum is selected by the Sovereign
from two persons recommended by the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord
Chancellor, and the Speaker of the House of Commons, who are (as has
already been remarked) the “Principal Trustees.”

Up to the year 1850, it will be remembered that the offices of Principal
Librarian and of Secretary were distinct appointments. The Secretary,
whose duties and position were at first simply clerical, gradually
assumed such importance that, though still nominally second to the
Principal Librarian, he was practically the Chief Officer of the Museum,
not always acting in unison with his superior in rank; it was found,
therefore, to be more desirable for the welfare of the Museum, as well
as more economical that the two offices should be blended, and they were
united in the person of Sir Henry Ellis.

In reference to this subject we invite the attention of our readers to
the following letter from that gentleman:—

                                             “British Museum,
                                                February 14th, 1856.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          You seem to doubt whether, in the event of my resignation of
  office, you would be likely to succeed me in it. I cannot help
  thinking that you must be mistaken, although I have certainly heard
  that a candidate or two are either in the field, or intending to apply
  when the resignation becomes a reality. At the same time I must tell
  you I have heard no names.

  I think it quite impossible that anybody who has not had experience in
  the Institution should be appointed.

  Yours is, most unquestionably, the portion of the Museum which is not
  only the largest, but the most useful and extensive for public
  instruction; the time of life, the toil, and the power of mind which
  you have brought to bear upon it and upon its improvement convince me
  that no stranger, especially without the knowledge which the
  experience of a quarter of a century has given you in the view of
  general management of the place, ought to be allowed to compete with
  you on this occasion.

  I myself felt all which you now feel in 1827, at the time my
  predecessor was approaching his end. I had aided him with all my power
  for some years; and I can show you various letters which are still
  precious to me, expressing his continuous gratitude.

  A week or two before he died he said to me, ‘Well, Sir, I shall soon
  depart, and you will be my successor.’ I said, ‘O! My dear Sir, I
  doubt.’ He raised his voice and said, ‘Who are they to have but you?’

  A stranger, you know, was put first, when the two names were presented
  to Lord Lansdowne to lay before the King. Mine was put second. Lord
  Lansdowne, from his own knowledge of the experience I had had in the
  Institution, powerfully seconded by the then Earl Spencer’s
  recommendation to the same effect, gave the palm to the second
  candidate; stating in his subsequent letter to me, that without any
  derogation to the _merits_ of Mr. Clinton, His Majesty had been
  pleased to appoint me ‘Principal Librarian.’

  I cannot help thinking your fears groundless. I cannot believe that
  any stranger, did he know the toil of mind to be encountered before
  experience can be obtained, would wish for such an appointment.

                                          Ever truly yours,
                                                       HENRY ELLIS.”

Four days after the receipt of the above, Panizzi addressed the
Archbishop of Canterbury and the other Principal Trustees, _>mutatis
mutandis_, as follows:—

                               “British Museum, February 18th, 1856.

  “My Lord Archbishop,

          Having just been informed by Sir Henry Ellis that he has
  resigned his situation of Principal Librarian, I trust I may be
  permitted to draw the attention of your Grace and of the other
  Principal Trustees to my services, as giving me some ground to hope
  that I may not be deemed unworthy of having my name submitted to the
  Sovereign as being a fit person to succeed Sir Henry. The efficacy and
  importance of those services have doubtless been noticed by the
  Trustees at large, as they were by the Commissioners of Inquiry into
  the British Museum, as expressed in their report. I shall not,
  therefore, presume to do more than refer with respectful confidence to
  the opinion which both the Trustees and the Commissioner entertain of
  them.

  I have the honour to be, my Lord Archbishop, &c.,

                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

From the Lord-Chancellor he received the appended reply, which needs no
comment, nor could Panizzi have expected his Lordship to act otherwise:—

                                            “40, Upper Brook-street,
                                              Feb. 18th, 1856.

  “My dear Sir,

          In answer to your application, I can say no more than that I
  feel it my bounden duty to consult exclusively the interests of the
  Museum.

  You will, I am sure, feel that till I know who are the candidates for
  the office, I should do very wrong to say more.

                                    Believe me, &c.,
                                                         CRANWORTH.”

The Home Secretary, at that time Sir George Grey, received, without
Panizzi’s knowledge, several letters from eminent personages, strongly
recommending him for the vacant post; to quote one of these will be
sufficient evidence of their tendency:—

                                                “Bridgewater House,
                                                February 18th, 1856.

  “My dear Sir George,

          Having served as Chairman of the British Museum Commission, I
  have thought myself justified in writing to the Archbishop of
  Canterbury on the subject of the selection of a successor to Sir Henry
  Ellis. His Grace, who has received this intrusion with indulgence,
  seems to desire that I should repeat to you and Sir G. Lewis what I
  have ventured to state to him. Without troubling you at length, I may
  briefly state that, on the assumption that Mr. Panizzi’s
  qualifications for the vacant post would not fail to receive His
  Grace’s consideration, should that consideration be favourable, my
  voice would be at His Grace’s disposal to defend, if need were, Mr.
  Panizzi’s appointment, as, in my opinion, the best that could be made.
  I also adverted to some knowledge I happen to possess of the
  considerate and benevolent character of Mr. Panizzi’s dealings with a
  very interesting class of men, his subordinates in the library. This
  feature in his merits being necessarily less under public notice than
  others which are too notorious to require my testimony, I considered
  it deserving of mention, co-existing, as I believe it does, with an
  assiduous exaction of duty, and an energetic exercise of authority.

                                      Ever yours,
                                                 EGERTON ELLESMERE.”

This letter was sent, together with others, to Panizzi, on the 26th of
February, 1870, by Sir George Grey himself:—

                                                   “37, Eaton Place.

  “Dear Sir A. Panizzi,

          I have been employing my leisure in looking over many letters
  and papers which accumulated during my tenure of the Home Office.
  Among them are some relating to your appointment as Principal
  Librarian to the Museum in 1856. I send you three letters which I
  think you may like to possess. When your life comes to be written,
  which I hope will not be for a long time it is right that letters such
  as those should be among the papers which will form materials for it.
  Of the appointments with which I had anything to do while in office,
  there is none which I can look back upon with greater satisfaction
  than yours.

                                     Believe me, very truly yours,
                                                           G. GREY.”

Another letter, from Lord Ellesmere to Dr. Cureton, written whilst the
appointment was pending, may be added:—

                            “Bridgewater House, February 19th, 1856.

  “Dear Mr. Cureton,

          If you know anything of Mr. Panizzi’s prospects, pray inform
  me.

  I have written to Sir George Grey as well as to the Archbishop. Is
  there any formidable rival in the field? I have not heard of any, nor
  indeed have I heard anything on the subject; and my only fear is that
  some of the Trustees may dread the influence of knowledge and
  capacity, on Talleyrand’s principle of avoiding zeal.

                                   Ever faithfully yours,
                                                 EGERTON ELLESMERE.”

Dr. Cureton again wrote as follows:—

                                        “Cloisters, Feb. 19th, 1856.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I have just seen the Archbishop, and I think there can be no
  doubt that all is right in that quarter. He asked me to let him have
  Parry’s letter again, which I shall. I told him that, as far as I
  knew, the Lord Chancellor and Speaker were quite in your favour; and
  he told me that, according to the Act, they must send in _two_ names,
  from which I certainly conclude that he means yours for _one_. He was
  very kind. I have also had a letter from Lord Ellesmere enquiring how
  you get on, and wanting to know who else was spoken of. He said that
  he had written to Sir George Grey on your behalf—should you not write
  a word of thanks to him? He seems, as you will see from his letter,
  much interested in your success.

                                         Yours always,
                                                        W. CURETON.”

Other communications followed, amongst which was one from Mr. Richard
Ford:—

                             “February 26th, 1856; 123, Park street.

  “Dear Panizzi,

          I shall be most anxious until I hear that you have succeeded
  to the office in the B. M., for which of all men you are _the best
  suited_. Indeed, if you take the place of Sir Henry Ellis, it will be
  the most fortunate event for the Museum that has ever happened. Pray,
  as soon as anything definitively is known, give us the great pleasure
  of writing me a line. I hear, also, that your bust is to be made by
  Marocchetti; he will model a fine thing from your _massy_ forehead,
  into which so much brain and intelligence are stored away. Is the
  subscription confined to the employés in the Museum? I should indeed
  delight in adding my name to a memorial destined to do honour to so
  old and valued a friend. The new Reading-Room would indeed be
  incomplete if the effigy of him who projected the scheme, and who has
  carried it out, did not occupy the niche of honour.

                                        Ever yours truly,
                                                        RICH. FORD.”

Before the announcement of the appointment reached Panizzi, he received
two epistles, one from Lord Lansdowne, and the other from Sir George
Grey:—

  “Dear Panizzi,

          Though I believe your appointment to succeed Sir H. Ellis at
  the Museum has been mentioned in the newspapers before it was
  made,—for it was only yesterday afternoon that Sir George Grey brought
  it under the notice finally of the Cabinet,—it is now certain, and I
  cannot refrain from wishing you joy.

  I had before felt it difficult to speak to you about it with the
  confidence I felt, lest your expectations and mine might not be
  realized by some untoward chance; but I am sure you will believe that
  there are none of the Trustees to whom it gives greater pleasure than
  myself.

                                      I remain,
                                              Very faithfully yours,
                                                         LANSDOWNE.”

    Sunday morning,
             March 2nd”

                                     “Home Office, March 5th, 1856.”

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          I have much satisfaction in informing you that Her Majesty has
  been pleased to appoint you to the office of Principal Librarian of
  the Museum.

  You will receive an official letter intimating to you your
  appointment, which, at the suggestion of the three Principal Trustees,
  in which Her Majesty’s Government concur, will be made subject to any
  changes in the duties or emoluments of the Office which Parliament may
  think fit to make.

                                 Believe me, yours very faithfully,
                                                           G. GREY.”

Close upon these followed the official letter from the Home Office:—

                                        “Whitehall, March 5th, 1856.

  “Sir,

          I am directed by Secretary Sir George Grey to inform you that
  the three Principal Trustees of the British Museum have recommended to
  Her Majesty two persons (of whom you are one) whom they judge fit to
  execute the office of Principal Librarian, and that Her Majesty has
  been pleased to appoint you to execute the said office of Principal
  Librarian of the British Museum.

  I am to add that, in accordance with the suggestion of the three
  Principal Trustees, made with reference to various changes in the
  duties of this office, recommended by the Royal Commission in 1850,
  Her Majesty has been pleased to direct that your appointment shall be
  made subject to any change in the duties or emoluments of the office
  which Parliament may think fit to make.

                        I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
                                                     H. WADDINGTON.”

The actual appointment, under Her Majesty’s sign manual, bears the date
of the next day, viz., the 6th of March, 1856.

Panizzi had been privately informed of the intended resignation of Sir
Henry Ellis at least a month before, for, on the 2nd of January, he
wrote to Sir George Grey, recommending himself to H.R.H. the Prince
Consort, under whose instructions the Hon. C. Grey wrote the following
letter:—

                                           “Buckingham Palace,
                                                  January 3rd, 1856.

  “My dear Mr. Panizzi,

          Pray let me know what Act of Parliament it is that regulates
  your appointment. The Prince will not lose sight of this matter till a
  decision is come to, but he would wish to be thoroughly acquainted
  with all the circumstances of the case.

                                     Yours very faithfully,
                                                           C. GREY.”

However, notwithstanding the tone of this letter, and whilst many others
kept pouring in, there were not a few persons who tried their utmost to
oppose the promotion which had been so well earned, and which, it may
honestly be said, proved afterwards to have been so wise a step in the
National interest.

The earliest protest is one which, though insignificant at first sight,
is here placed before the reader, because it was sent to Panizzi by Lord
Palmerston, who wrote on the 13th of March (1856):—

  “My dear Panizzi,

          The enclosed, which has been sent to me, will interest you.

                                              Yours very sincerely,
                                                        PALMERSTON.”

                           “THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

  I protest against the advancement of Mr. Antonio Panizzi to the office
  of Principal Librarian of the British Museum, vacant by the retirement
  of Sir Henry Ellis, K.H.

  1. Because the appointment, the said Antonio Panizzi being a
  foreigner, is an act of injustice towards English candidates; a satire
  on the character of the Nation; and a discouragement to the pursuit of
  its antiquities and literature.

  2. Because as the office involves the chief “care and custody” of a
  National repository of objects of inestimable value, the appointment
  is a manifest incongruity, and a most inauspicious precedent.

  3. Because the office confers the power of granting admission to the
  Reading-Room of the Museum, or of refusing it; and it is not fit that
  National favours, or the refusal thereof, should be received at
  foreign hands.

  4. Because the said Antonio Panizzi has had the audacity to propose
  the dismemberment of the Museum, in opposition to the express
  provision of the Act of the twenty-sixth year of George II.—a
  provision which received the approval of more than fifty members of
  various scientific societies in 1847.

  5. Because the said Antonio Panizzi, on account of the failure of his
  engagements with regard to the Catalogue of printed books, and the
  fictions and absurdities of the only fragment thereof hitherto
  published, appears to have deserved reprehension rather than
  promotion.

  6. Because it removes the said Antonio Panizzi from an office in
  which, under the guidance of common sense, his erudition, energy, and
  activity might have been serviceable, to a station for which he
  appears to be unfitted by his arrogance and irritability, as patent in
  certain blue books, and by the notorious verbosity of his composition.

                              &c., &c., &c.,
                                                      BOLTON CORNEY.

  The Terrace, Barnes.”

Can any protest be more short-sighted or ungenerous than this of “Bolton
Corney’s?” The concise note of Lord Palmerston speaks volumes to the
discerning mind as to his opinion of such vulgar and insulting trash.
But for his Lordship’s discriminating kindness in forwarding the
document for Panizzi’s reflection and information, the matter would be
scarcely worth dwelling on for a single instant.

Again reference must be made to Mr. Francis Haywood, who, it will be
remembered, was Panizzi’s earliest friend at Liverpool, and who, it can
well be imagined, was delighted to see his _>quondam_ Italian and
penurious friend of 1824 now at the head of the greatest institution of
its kind in the universe. Appended are Panizzi’s letters previous to
receiving his appointment as Principal librarian:—

                                        “B. M., February 20th, 1856.

  “My dear Haywood,

          All my friends have always laughed at my doubting to succeed;
  I alone have hitherto been mistrusting. If I am now to believe what I
  hear and see in writing, I cannot have any doubts. It seems, even to
  me, that the thing is as safe as it can be. The Archbishop is as sure
  as the Chancellor and the Speaker, and so is Sir G. Grey, from what I
  hear on authority that I cannot possibly doubt. But the thing is not
  done, and there is, therefore, the _possibility_ of a miscarriage.
  What pleases me is that in this house _all_—excepting, of course,
  Madden and Hawkins, who looked to the promotion themselves—are
  strongly for me.

                                               Yours ever,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

                                                   “March 4th, 1856.

  “My dear Haywood,

          I have information on the perfect accuracy of which I may
  rely, that at Saturday’s Cabinet my appointment was decided on. You
  may rest assured—there is no doubt.

  Of course you must be one of my securities for £2,500, I believe; I
  have informed Booth, who is now my other security for £750, of what is
  likely to happen. Ellice wishes to be my other security. The Master of
  the Rolls too offered, and so did Cureton, my old colleague, who
  _cried_ when he learnt how the matter had been decided. You have no
  idea how many friends have spontaneously come to my assistance. But of
  the Government, Ellesmere has taken it up as a personal matter.

                                        Yours ever,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

It is incumbent on the gentlemen holding higher appointments in the
British Museum to name two securities; these, in Panizzi’s case, were
Mr. Francis Haywood and Mr. James Booth, both of whom, of course, were
accepted. In order to commemorate the great event, the new Principal
Librarian invited some of his intimate friends to dinner at Blackwall,
amongst these should be mentioned Mr. John Kenyon, the philanthropist,
philosopher, and poet. This gentleman died on the 3rd of December, 1856,
and as a practical proof of the esteem in which he held Panizzi, left
him a legacy of £500 and all his wines.

[Illustration]

Lord Macaulay, who had been a Trustee of the British Museum since
February, 1847 (an office which he highly esteemed, and to which he
attended with much assiduity and greatly to the public advantage),
showed, as we gather from his life by Trevelyan, no small anxiety as to
the impending appointment. In writing (February, 1856) to Lord
Lansdowne, he said:—“I am glad of this, both on public and private
grounds. Yet I fear that the appointment will be unpopular both within
and without the walls of the Museum. There is a growing jealousy among
men of science, which, between ourselves, appears even at the Board of
Trustees. There is a notion that the Department of Natural History is
neglected, and that the Library and Sculpture Gallery are unduly
favoured. This feeling will certainly not be allayed by the appointment
of Panizzi, whose great object, during many years, has been to make our
Library the best in Europe, and who would at any time give three
Mammoths for an Aldus.“

With all due deference to Lord Macaulay’s statement, we do not hesitate
to say that the appointment was _not_ unpopular, and shall, therefore,
begin first by giving Panizzi’s letters, addressed to the Keepers of the
various Departments, some replies to these letters, and afterwards a
selection of other correspondence from subordinate officers, summing up
with sundry quotations from the numerous letters of congratulation from
persons in various positions.

In relinquishing the Keepership of the Department of Printed Books, the
new Principal Librarian thus wrote to Mr. Winter Jones, his successor:—

                                  “British Museum, March 24th, 1856.

  “My dear Jones,

          I cannot quit the important Department, which for the last
  nineteen years I have had the honour to direct, without expressing to
  you and to those who have so much contributed to augmenting it and
  raising it to its present state, my heartfelt thanks for the zealous,
  intelligent, and unfailing assistance which I have received from all
  in the performance of my various duties.

  It is not for me to say whether this Library can challenge comparison;
  but this I can truly say, that having been so nobly seconded, it is
  not surprising if I have succeeded beyond what I ever ventured to hope
  in July, 1837.

  I leave my old Department in your hands, confident that its future
  head will continue to receive from all my late fellow-labourers the
  support of which I feel so proud—that by your united efforts its
  usefulness will increase with its extent and its renown, and that you
  will all receive that meed of approbation which will be due to your
  untiring and intelligent exertions in the service of the public.

  Please, my dear Jones, to make these sentiments of mine known to the
  whole Department, and believe me, ever yours truly,

                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

The answer ran thus:—

                                              “British Museum,
                                                   March 24th, 1856.

  “My Dear Sir,

          I have communicated to this Department the most kind and
  flattering letter you have addressed to us, and I am desired to convey
  to you the expression of the pleasure all have experienced from its
  perusal. The gratification we feel in your promotion to the important
  post of Principal Librarian is much alloyed by our regret at your
  separation from us. All have been indebted to you for acts of kindness
  and consideration—not a few for substantial benefits. It is our pride
  that we have been enabled to take part in the labours of the
  Department; but the _result_ is due to the firm and able guidance
  those labours have at all times received from yourself. The approval
  and ready acknowledgment with which you have always met the exertions
  of others have proved no slight incentive to continued zeal and
  application.

  The energy and enlarged views which have raised the Library to its
  present state of efficiency will now be employed in promoting the
  advancement of the Institution generally; and supported and seconded
  as you doubtless will be by the Trustees and Officers, we look forward
  with confidence to the time when the British Museum shall take its
  proper rank as one of the most powerful engines for the promotion of
  education and intelligence.

                          Believe me, my dear Sir, most truly yours,
                                                 J. WINTER JONES.”

On the assumption of the office of Principal Librarian, Panizzi wrote a
circular letter to the officers of the Museum, to which are appended a
few of the answers received, in the order of dates.

                                               “British Museum,
                                                   March 24th, 1856.

  “Dear Sir,

          Her Majesty having been graciously pleased to appoint me to
  the office of Principal Librarian, I beg to inform you that the
  Trustees, on Saturday last, put me in possession of that office.

  I rely on receiving from you, and all those under you, that efficient
  assistance which is absolutely necessary for the good of the service,
  and which from your well known zeal and ability in the fulfilment of
  the duties of your office must prove eminently useful to this
  Institution.

  You may reckon on your part on my endeavouring to do the utmost for
  the advantage of your Department, and of those employed in it, for the
  support of your authority, and for facilitating not only the execution
  of the orders of the Trustees, but a hearty compliance with their
  wishes.

  I flatter myself that, by our united and harmonious exertions, by the
  utmost punctuality, and by steady attention in the performance of our
  duties, we shall eventually secure for the British Museum a still
  larger share of that ready support with which Parliament has hitherto
  generously encouraged our efforts.

  I shall be highly gratified to learn that you concur in these views
  and sentiments, and

                         I remain, my dear Sir, yours faithfully,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

                                               “British Museum,
                                                   March 24th, 1856.

  “My dear Sir,

          I hasten to congratulate you on your appointment to the office
  of Principal Librarian, and to wish that you may long enjoy the honour
  so conferred on you.

  Knowing the energy you have always evinced in the Department over
  which you have hitherto presided, the great attention you have paid to
  the interest of those confided to your care, I look forward with
  pleasure to the advantages we may all derive from the enlargement of
  your sphere of action.

  I beg to assure you that it will be my earnest endeavour to assist you
  by every means in my power to carry out the orders of the Trustees,
  and to produce those united and harmonious exertions which cannot fail
  to be so beneficial to the interest, efficiency, and utility of the
  Institution, and so beneficial to the officers.

                       I remain, my dear Sir, yours very faithfully,
                                                  JOHN EDW. GRAY.”

                                               “British Museum,
                                                   March 25th, 1856.

  “Dear Sir,

          I have the greatest satisfaction in your appointment to the
  office of Principal Librarian, and offer you my warmest
  congratulations on the attainment of a post in which your abilities
  will be exercised so advantageously.

  You cannot doubt that I concur most entirely in the sentiments of your
  letter—that I shall always consider it my first duty to devote myself
  to the interests of this Institution, and to satisfy the Trustees by
  punctuality, diligence, and general zeal in their service.

  Without harmony of action and due subordination, all must be confusion
  in such an establishment as ours. I shall therefore be at all times
  eager to support your authority, and to follow your directions as the
  Principal Officer of the Trustees, and the proper interpreter of their
  wishes and instructions.

  While endeavouring to satisfy you and them by my best personal
  exertions, I shall feel full assurance of your concern for the
  interests of the Department, and shall confide in your protection and
  assistance, as well as in your lenient consideration of such
  shortcomings as want of ability may render unavoidable.

                       Believe me, dear Sir, very faithfully yours,
                                                     EDWD. A. BOND.”

                                            “British Museum,
                                                   March 25th, 1856.

  “My dear Sir,

          I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 24th
  inst., by which you acquaint me that the Trustees had, on Saturday
  last, put you in possession of the office of Principal Librarian, to
  which Her Majesty had been pleased to appoint you.

  You do me but justice, and I speak with equal confidence of all those
  engaged with me in the Department of Printed Books, when you say that
  you rely on receiving from us that assistance which is absolutely
  necessary for the good of the service.

  That I may reckon on your endeavouring to do the utmost for the
  advantage of this Department, and of those employed in it, for the
  support of authority and for facilitating the due execution of the
  orders, and a hearty compliance with the wishes of the Trustees, is no
  more than was to be expected from the vigour of your administration
  while at the head of this Department, and the generous earnestness
  with which you have at all times advocated the claims and supported
  the interests of all those placed under your orders.

  I most fully concur in the views and sentiments enunciated in your
  letter, and particularly in the portion where you urge united and
  harmonious exertion and the utmost punctuality and steady attention in
  the performance of our duties; and I beg to assure you that my best
  exertions shall be directed towards carrying out your views on these
  as well as on all other points.

                        Believe me, my dear Sir, most truly yours,
                                                   J. WINTER JONES.”

Other letters, in the same congratulatory strain, were received from Dr.
Birch, Mr. W. H. Carpenter, Mr. E. Hawkins, Mr. Robert Brown, Mr. G. R.
Waterhouse, and Mr. J. J. Bennett.

Sir Frederick Madden, as it will be noticed, did not write at the time;
but, after some correspondence between Panizzi and the Archbishop of
Canterbury, he wrote on the 3rd of April.

Much interest will be attached, also, to the opinions of those not
officially connected with the British Museum:—

                                      “Orleans House, Mercredi soir,
                                      5 Mars.

  Je n’ai pas voulu vous offrir mes félicitations plus tôt, mon cher
  monsieur, parceque je voulais en même temps pouvoir vous dire que
  j’avais parlé à la Reine. Je savais que ma démarche arriverait comme
  la moutarde après dîner; mais enfin je voulais l’avoir faite pour
  l’acquit de ma conscience et surtout pour la satisfaction de mon
  cœur. Or donc j’arrive de Buckingham Palace; j’avais porté mon
  manuscript, et, tandis qu’on l’admirait, j’ai prononcé votre nom. ‘Oh!
  a aussitôt dit Sa Majesté, Monsieur Panizzi, il remplace Sir Henry
  Ellis. Cela m’a paru suffisant, et, bien que vous sachiez déjà à quoi
  vous en tenir, je n’ai pas voulu perdre un moment à vous le répéter,
  en y joignant mes plus vives félicitations et l’assurance, déjà
  vieille, de tous les sentiments avec lesquels je demeure,

                                      Votre bien affectionné,
                                                      H. D’ORLEANS.”

                                  “Stover, Newton Abbot,
                                               Thursday, March 13th.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          I congratulate you sincerely on your appointment, and hope
  that you may have health long to enjoy this honourable position, and
  to devote to it the energy which you have so efficiently devoted to
  the Department over which you presided.

  I shall come to Wimbledon directly after Easter, and shall then, I
  hope, be there during the next five months, so that I shall be able to
  attend at the Museum, whenever I can be of use.

  There are, no doubt, a great many improvements to be made in the
  system and conduct of the British Museum; but they still require much
  judgment for their introduction, that we may carry with us, as far as
  possible, the co-operation of the heads of Departments and the general
  concurrence of the Establishment. The question of first appointments
  was, as I remember, postponed, and requires to be clearly understood
  and settled. I am not aware of any other point requiring immediate
  attention, but shall come to the Museum as soon as I come up to
  London.

                                      Yours very faithfully,
                                                          SOMERSET.”

                        “Hatchford, Cobham, Surrey, March 7th, 1856.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          I am much relieved to find that your position is secured,
  though I had not much ground for apprehension as to the result. I
  shall not be in London, except casually, till after Easter. I had
  intended to be there to-day for Lord Stanhope’s Motion, but am too
  lame. Perhaps before Easter is over you may find a holiday or
  holinight to run down here, in which case I should be glad to
  congratulate you in person, but I am not _sure_ that I could do so
  before the end of next week.

                               Ever yours, faithfully,
                                                 EGERTON ELLESMERE.”

                        “March 10th, 1856; 58, Lincoln’s Inn Fields.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I hope that this which I hear is true; and that you have
  obtained that which you have the best claim to, and are the worthiest
  to hold. If this be so—as I trust heartily it is—I beg to wish you
  long and happy years to enjoy what you have so well earned.

                                            Ever truly yours,
                                                       JOHN FOSTER.”

To the foregoing, other distinguished personages added their
congratulatory expressions. Testimonials signed by attendants—even the
bookbinder might be adduced—poured in, and might be put forward, did
space permit, to prove incontestably that the appointment was thoroughly
stamped with public approval.

Our documentary evidence has been copious, in order to establish, beyond
doubt, the fact that Panizzi’s succession to the high trust to which he
was appointed met with general approval, and once for all to extinguish
the croaking of his few detractors and calumniators.

So far everything was satisfactory. We cannot, however, conclude this
chapter without referring, briefly, to the proceedings in the House of
Commons, on the 21st of April, 1856, when Lord John Russell, in
Committee of Supply, moved the vote for the British Museum; confining
ourselves to those parts of the proceedings which related to the
appointment. Mr. Monckton Milnes (now Lord Houghton) appeared to object
on the old ground of foreign birth; yet, this very objector had signed,
with others, the Report of 1850, wherein it was stated that Panizzi’s
appointment as Keeper of the Printed Books did _credit to the Principal
Trustees of that day_; that he had answered all accusations brought
against him _with a success that they_ (the Commissioners) _could hardly
have anticipated_; that it was owing to his Report of 1845 that the
extensive grants for the purchase of books were procured from
Parliament; and that he had managed the affairs of the Library, for a
long period, with _great ability and with universal approbation_.

Those who defended the appointment were there: first of all, the Speaker
(the Right Hon. C. Shaw Lefevre, afterwards Lord Eversley), who stated:—

  “For my own part, I am quite prepared, and so, I am sure, are all my
  colleagues, to accept the responsibility of selecting Mr. Panizzi,
  because I do not believe a better choice could have been made. The
  hon. gentleman has alluded to the fact of Mr. Panizzi being a
  foreigner, but that has been no unusual case in the British Museum.”

  _Mr._ (now Sir Austen H.) _Layard_, “... he was very much astonished
  to hear his honourable friend object to Mr. Panizzi on the ground of
  his being a foreigner, because that was an objection which ought not
  to come from that, the Liberal, side of the House.”

  _Mr. Disraeli_ (now Lord Beaconsfield), “... had no hesitation in
  saying that, if the Trustees had not appointed Mr. Panizzi to the
  vacancy when it occurred, as the reward for his long and meritorious
  services, and of the intelligent qualities which he had displayed,
  they would have acted with great injustice, they would have inflicted
  a discouragement on the public service, and they would have been no
  longer entitled to the commendation and confidence of that House.”

  _Lord John Russell_, “... he really thought that we had become more
  liberal than that.... He thought that the appointment of Mr. Panizzi
  had been fully vindicated by the Speaker, and he trusted that there
  would be no further opposition to the vote.”

  _Mr. Monckton Milnes_ said, in conclusion, “he should be glad to hear
  that the appointment was confirmed by public opinion, and justified by
  the conduct of Mr. Panizzi himself.”

The documents already quoted, are, we trust, sufficient to fulfil the
conditions required; but we surely ought to be more enlightened than to
coincide with the opinions of the early Romans, who, as Cicero informs
us, regarded the words _peregrinus_ and _inimicus_ as synonymous: (off.
1 xii. 38). _Hostis enim apud maiores nostros is dicebatur quem nunc
‘peregrinum’ dicimus._

Be this as it may, it is pleasing to record that those who knew Panizzi
best did not regard or treat him as _inimicus_.

This chapter may be fitly concluded with the subjoined copy of a
testimonial as satisfactory and as well-merited as any man ever
received. It is in the handwriting and signed by Mr. W. R. Hamilton, a
Trustee of the British Museum.

  “The Standing Committee of the Trustees of the British Museum think it
  their duty to address to the Government of Her Majesty, in the form of
  a minute to be communicated to the First Lord Commissioner of Her
  Majesty’s Treasury, the following representation in favour of Mr.
  Antonio Panizzi, who for many years filled the office of Keeper of the
  Printed Books in this Institution, and was lately selected Principal
  Librarian in the same Establishment:—

  ‘The Trustees are fully aware that the exemplary activity, zeal, and
  ability shewn by Mr. Panizzi, in the execution of his duties as Keeper
  of the Printed Books, are well known to the greater part, if not to
  all, the present members of Her Majesty’s Government; but they wish,
  on the present occasion, to call the particular attention of Lord
  Palmerston to the very remarkable proofs which this gentleman has
  recently given of his devotion to the general service of the Museum,
  by the extension of its means of contributing to the instruction and
  accommodation of the public.

  In the expression of their sentiments the Trustees are especially
  influenced by the deep sense they entertain of the obligation they are
  under to Mr. Panizzi for the suggestion of the building recently
  erected in the Interior Quadrangle of the Museum for supplying
  additional room for the books composing the Museum Library, and for
  the better accommodation for an increased and increasing number of
  visitors to the Reading-Room.

  The success which has attended the erection of this Building, the
  universal admiration which it has excited among the thousands who have
  been admitted to view it since it was completed, the various excellent
  and simple arrangements for the supply of books to the readers, the
  ingenuity and invention displayed for the arrangement of a very large
  library within a very limited space, and the facilities which it may
  eventually afford for extending the available space for other
  departments, the novelty of the design and the comparatively small
  cost of the construction are all in a very great manner to be
  attributed to the energy and inventive powers of Mr. Panizzi whose
  views have been most efficiently carried out by the architect, Mr.
  Sydney Smirke, in the material construction of a building which, the
  Trustees believe, is without a rival on the Continent. All these facts
  are, however, too well known to Lord Palmerston for it to be necessary
  for the Trustees to dwell upon them further; but they confidently hope
  that the circumstances of the case will be found sufficient to induce
  Her Majesty’s Government to testify their appreciation of what Mr.
  Panizzi has thus done for the public benefit in such manner as may
  appear to them most expedient.’

                                    (Signed)        W. R. HAMILTON.”

[Illustration]



                               CHAPTER XV

_Sir Wm. Temple; His Collection; Correspondence; Museum Staff; Visit to
    Brescello; Archduke Maximilian’s Visit to the Museum; Reports of
    Heads of Departments; Correspondence; Mr Newton’s Expedition to
    Budrum; Blacas Collection._


Panizzi was called upon, within a few months after his appointment, to
give practical proof of that energy which characterized him; indeed, it
appears that he lost no time in setting to work to reform the Museum as
regarded the want of space and the improvement of the position of his
subordinates. The Parliamentary papers of the day will show the amount
of correspondence, both private and official, through which he had to
wade. Though desirous of maintaining chronological order, we first take
up here for a moment what, at the time, was considered a valuable
bequest of Sir William Temple, brother of Lord Palmerston, who died in
London on the 24th of August, 1856, having for many years resided at
Naples as Minister Plenipotentiary.

It was understood, previous to Sir William’s death, that his collection
of antiquities would come to the British Museum. Although, perhaps, not
a collection of the first order, it was of considerable intrinsic value,
and looked upon by _connoisseurs_ as a small Museum in itself.

On the 11th of September, 1856, Panizzi received the following private
letter from Lord Palmerston:—

[Illustration]

                                                    “94, Piccadilly.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          My brother stated in his will, ‘I desire that my collection of
  Antiquities be offered to the Trustees of the British Museum, to be
  preserved therein for the use and benefit of the public, and if within
  six calendar months after such offer shall have been made to the said
  Trustees, they shall signify their acceptance thereof, for the purpose
  aforesaid, then I give the said collection to them accordingly.’

  Of course it will be understood by the Trustees that the Collection
  should be placed separately and kept altogether, and be described as
  my brother’s gift, and the Infant Bacchus should be added to the
  collection of which it forms a part. As I cannot doubt that the
  Trustees will accept this bequest, I would beg to suggest that some
  proper person should be sent from the Museum to Naples, to pack up,
  properly and safely, the things of which the Collection consists. This
  would be more satisfactory than that the Collection should be packed
  up by persons on the spot without any responsible superintendence.

  Fagan is returning to Naples in the middle of next week, and will take
  with him the list of articles, and the person sent to pack them up
  might go out with Fagan.[A] There are many reasons why it is desirable
  that no time should be lost in packing the Collection up. The way of
  sending it home may be settled afterwards. It is possible that some
  ship-of-war may be in the Bay of Naples which might bring the cases
  home, if not too bulky, but otherwise the Museum will make proper
  arrangements for their removal to England.

                                              Yours sincerely,
                                                         PALMERSTON.

  P.S.—On second thoughts, I send you the Catalogue, which you will
  return to me before Wednesday. You had better have a copy made of this
  Catalogue, and keep it in case any accident should happen to the
  original.

                                                                 P.”

Panizzi immediately afterwards sent for Mr. Oldfield, then an Assistant
in the Antiquity Department of the British Museum, and directed him to
proceed at once to Naples, in order to report on the Collection, and
superintend its departure. His instructions ran thus:—

                                       “B. M., September 20th, 1856.

  “Dear Sir,

          After the full conversation which we have had on the subject
  of the Sir William Temple’s legacy of his collection of antiquities to
  the Trustees of the British Museum, it is unnecessary for me to say
  more on that part of the subject, but I have accordingly to request
  that you will take means for leaving this country to repair to Naples
  without delay. There the collection, I understand, is still in the
  house which Sir William inhabited at Naples, and the objects will be
  delivered up to you by George Fagan, Esq. (Attaché to H. M’s
  Legation), who is in possession of a full and descriptive catalogue of
  the said collection, and who is to act for Viscount Palmerston, the
  heir and sole executor of the Will of his late brother. You will, of
  course, give an acknowledgment to Mr. Fagan of what you receive.

  The collection being speedily and carefully packed up, you will make
  it your duty, without loss of time, to enquire by what means it may be
  best transmitted to England. Acting for our Trustees, I have applied
  to the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, requesting them to order
  any of Her Majesty’s ships that might be available, touching at Naples
  on its way to England, to receive on board the packages containing the
  said collection, the same being for public use and benefit, and should
  you be successful in obtaining such means of conveyance, you are
  requested to avail yourself of it in preference to any other, even if
  the arrival of the collection were to be thereby delayed. This delay
  would be of comparatively little importance; what is really essential
  is that the collection should be carefully packed up and safely
  removed on board without loss of time.

  If no such conveyance can be obtained, you will then forward the
  collection to England by the readiest and safest means available to
  the best of your judgment, and after having consulted with the
  gentleman in charge of Her Majesty’s Legation, or with Her Majesty’s
  Consul General at Naples.

  As to the expenses you may have to incur for packing, packing-cases,
  transport of the objects from the Minister’s House to the ship, on
  board of which they are to be placed, you are empowered to draw on me,
  either at a month _after date_ or ten days _after sight_, for the
  amount, advising me of having so drawn, and carefully preserving the
  vouchers which justify the expense. Should you be obliged to remain at
  Naples more than is now contemplated, and find the sum of £50, which I
  have placed in your hands to meet your travelling and personal
  expense, insufficient, you are authorized to draw for £50 more on the
  same terms as above. On your return to England you will be so good as
  to transmit to me a statement of your expenses, accompanied by such
  vouchers as may be necessary, in order that they may be laid before
  the Standing Committee.

  Immediately after the Collection is embarked you will be pleased to
  make the best of your way back to England. Having the greatest
  reliance on your judgment, I concur with Mr. Hawkins in authorizing
  you to purchase, on account of the Trustees, any object or objects
  which you might think a very desirable addition for our Museum of
  Antiquities, to an amount not exceeding altogether £100, drawing for
  the same as above. Should any more important and peculiarly desirable
  purchase offer itself, please to make forthwith a special report on
  it, to be submitted to the Trustees, for their orders.

  It may be superfluous to add that it will be desirable that, on your
  return, you should lay before the Trustees a report on any point that
  you may think of importance, respecting the public or private
  Collections which may fall under your notice, and the regulations
  under which the former are preserved, and made accessible to learned
  men and artists, as well as the public at large.

  Be so good as to write to me fully and frequently for the information
  of the Trustees, and give me the earliest notice of the collection
  being on board the vessel which is to bring it to England.

  Mr. Fagan will assist you as far as in his power with his advice and
  knowledge of men and things at Naples. I enclose, moreover, a letter
  for Mr. Petre, now in charge of Her Majesty’s Mission, and another for
  Mr. Craven, one of its members.

                                           Believe me, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

On the 3rd of October, Mr. Oldfield wrote from Naples giving his private
opinion of the collection, which he evidently did not consider of very
great value. “The glass and the bronzes,” he said, “are of considerable
beauty and interest, but the sculpture as a whole unworthy of
acceptance.”

A notable incident should be here inserted. When a certain R. Gargiulo
was preparing the Catalogue of the Collection, it was discovered that
four frescoes, of not much importance, had upon them the stamp of the
Museo Borbonico. They had, in fact, been purloined from that Museum by
an agent, or ally, of the individual from whom Sir William bought them.
Sir William resolved to return them to their lawful owners, but died
before carrying out his intention. Mr. Fagan, with Lord Palmerston’s
sanction, wrote to the Neapolitan authorities immediately afterwards,
informing them of the discovery; stating also, of course, how Sir
William had unwittingly purchased objects which he afterwards discovered
had been abstracted from Pompeii, and returning them in Lord
Palmerston’s name. After a few days, Signor d’Aloe called on Mr. Fagan,
and, stating that the matter had been reported to the King, Ferdinand
II., begged that Lord Palmerston would retain the frescoes. Consequent
upon this, and upon the letter which communicated the royal request, the
frescoes were accepted.

The collection consists altogether of 1,571 pieces; of these the most
interesting portions are the painted vases, the bronzes, and the
specimens of Greek and Roman glasses. Special mention should also be
made of a magnificent _Krater_, with a painting of the death of
Hippolytus; a very fine and rare globular vase, with an ornamental
cover, should be separately mentioned; and a _Lekythos_ representing the
judgment of Paris. Amongst the bronzes, a small but fine bust of a faun,
and specimens of Greek armour from Ruvo, comprising a breast and back
plate, and a very beautiful bronze statue of the youthful Bacchus,
deposited in the Museum by Sir William during his life-time.

In the spring of 1857, Panizzi gave his serious attention to the cause
of the staff of the Museum, and to the increase of their emoluments.
Hitherto the servants of the Trustees, as it has been already observed,
were not treated or paid in a commensurate manner by the Government, and
no superannuation allowance was granted; and it was properly remarked at
the time that, to carry out any effectual measure of reform, it would be
necessary to increase the value of the appointments—thus holding out an
inducement for good men to remain, and giving the service of the Museum
the tone of a _profession_.

It would relieve the Establishment from persons who were worn out or
nearly so, and raise the general standard of activity; and by clearing
off an _arrear_ of superannuation, would make room for the early
introduction of a considerable number of officers and attendants of a
superior class.

This step was ultimately carried out by Panizzi two years afterwards,
much to the satisfaction of the whole Museum staff, as the following
letter which they addressed to him testifies:—

                                           “British Museum,
                                                February 25th, 1861.

  “Dear Sir,

          We beg individually and collectively to offer to you in a more
  explicit manner than we were able to do on Saturday, our most sincere
  and grateful thanks for the highly gratifying intelligence which you
  so kindly conveyed to us on that day. We feel assured that the very
  important improvement in our position which you then announced to us,
  has not been obtained without the most persevering and energetic
  exertions on your part; and we earnestly hope, by our zealous
  attention to the performance of our several duties, to merit the
  continued approbation of the Trustees, and thereby to justify this
  your crowning effort on our behalf.”

It will be remembered that in 1845, Panizzi, after having obtained
permission to visit his native town, was, when on the eve of reaching
it, stopped by the Duke of Modena. Things had somewhat changed, perhaps,
for the better; or at any rate the time was fast approaching when the
foreign yoke was about, once for all, to disappear from Italy, and
tyranny cease to exist in the land which had given birth to so many
eminent men. On the 15th of June, 1857, Panizzi wrote to Lord Clarendon
to obtain for him, through Count Apponyi, an Austrian passport; his
Lordship at once set to work, and on the 17th of June communicated to
Panizzi the welcome tidings that his Excellency, although he could not
grant him the desired passport because _he had never been an Austrian_,
still would not for an instant hesitate to affix his signature to his
English passport. Accordingly he started by the end of August for
Brescello, and actually reached that place without molestation. He thus
wrote to Mr. Haywood from Milan:—

                                                     “September 9th.

  “My reception has been all I could wish on the part of the Government,
  and beyond belief on that of my few remaining friends; for I find the
  majority of them dead. But those who still live, and their families—I
  had left many of them children, and I find them now married with
  children of the same age that they themselves were when I left
  Italy—have received me with a cordiality and warmth of affection that
  has often and often moved me to tears. And then this country—and those
  monuments—and this sky! Oh my dear Haywood, what poor things are all
  those that are admired elsewhere! What nature has done and what the
  old generations did for Italy is unique; but I shall be very glad to
  be once more at the British Museum.”

Whilst at Brescello, the biographer, who had the satisfaction of
visiting that place in November, 1879, was told that Panizzi spent the
entire day going from house to house seeing and embracing his relations
and friends, making researches in the archives, and taking notes of all
he saw; but nothing can be more touching than a letter which he wrote on
the 22nd of October, 1857, to Dr. Minzi, and of which we place a
translation intact before our readers:—

                                  “British Museum,
                                       October 22nd, 1857 (evening).

  “My dear Minzi,

          How many things have happened during the past thirty-five
  years! It was on this very day thirty-five years ago, that you
  accompanied me, with Zatti and Montani, to embark for Viadana.

  It was then that my travels began. What changes! What fortune! How
  many sleepless nights! What follies! What ardent passion! What
  sufferings! What risks! But no more of this.

  You know that I have been at Brescello, but you cannot conceive how
  dear such a visit was to me. Indeed it is impossible to describe my
  feelings. I can only say that no town, temple, or theatre, or palace
  afforded me such joy as I felt when I saw Brescello; the church of
  Brescello! the theatre of Brescello! and the Municipal Hall of
  Brescello! The very house where I was born, yours, Montani’s house,
  and that of Francesco Panizzi. These sights almost brought tears to my
  eyes.

  You complain of my silence.... You must know that weeks have passed
  without my being able to leave the house, and that I was reduced to
  such a state as not even to get sleep; my head felt giddy, and my
  heart beat so as to take away my breath; I had pains in my hands and
  feet, and nervousness, accompanied by continual noise in the ears. I
  went to Italy, and now I tell you what I achieved since we last
  parted.

  From Keeper of the Printed Books, perhaps the most important
  Department in this Institution, I was appointed Director in Chief
  (Principal Librarian) of the Museum, about two years ago. It is a very
  high post, but when I came to take charge of the Museum, I found it so
  badly governed, such was the need of many reforms, that it required an
  iron resolution to replace order. I attempted it. Every one in the
  service great and small (about 230) soon learnt that they had to deal
  with one who was determined to make things go as they ought. I was
  already known in my Department, which was a model to all others, and
  every one knew the stuff I was made of. I found a collection of
  220,000 printed books, and I left 530,000. I fought for years,
  defeated a squadron of ignorant men and enemies, who opposed a plan
  for a new Catalogue, which is now approaching completion, and which
  will be the finest Catalogue ever compiled. I made a plan for a
  Reading-Room to accommodate 300 readers, who are now more comfortably
  seated than at their own homes, and of a Library which will contain
  1,400,000 volumes. The plan was approved by our best architect; the
  room is now finished and made use of. I am honoured by every one, and
  my enemies have disappeared. All this has naturally added strength and
  moral power to my new post. But, through hard work, I felt as if my
  brain would give way, and so I decided to visit Italy. There I slept
  very well, and the symptoms disappeared, but they returned slowly. My
  mode of living is moderate; I take medicine, but the pain on my left
  side has returned. How it will end I do not know, for work I must, and
  work hard too; and now that I have reached the summit of the mountain
  I feel as if I should like to descend, but I fear it is impossible. I
  am treated by every one like a Benjamin, amply paid and much honoured,
  and they will not listen to my retiring.

  I have sent you a selfish letter, such a one as I should not have
  written to any one else, but only to a friend like you.

                                    Your affectionate friend,
                                                         A. PANIZZI.

To continue the thread of our narrative, a trifling but pleasant
incident occurred, two months before Panizzi left London for the
Continent, which we cannot do better than narrate in his own words:—

                                            “B. M., June 30th, 1857.

  “My dear Haywood,

          A week ago the Archduke Maximilian, who is going as Viceroy in
  Lombardy, after his marriage with the Princess Charlotte of Belgium,
  came to visit the Museum, and I received him. In the course of
  conversation it came out that I was an Italian, and that I intended
  going to Renaro at the beginning of August, returning in September.
  The Archduke then began to urge me that I should on my return (for he
  would not be there on my going) pay him a visit, that is, _to go and
  stay with him_. Of course I said _Domine non sum dignus_, but he
  pressed me repeatedly. I thought when he learnt who I was he would not
  press me again, but on Saturday last I unexpectedly received a
  despatch from the Austrian Minister here, Apponyi, sending me, in the
  Archduke’s name, a very fine diamond ring with the Archduke’s
  initials, and a reminder that he expects I will pay him a visit at
  Milan. Now this is very embarrassing. If I go to Milan, and he is
  there, I _must_ present myself, and be his guest if he insists; if I
  do so all the Italians who do not know me, more especially in
  Piedmont, will accuse me of treachery, of playing false to my country,
  and what not; and, on the other hand, if I had the moral courage to
  despise such an outcry I might do some little good—very little, if
  any, I know.

                                    Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

But to return to the Museum. The process of accumulation continued, and
the influx of works of art and other antiquities was filling the
National Institution to such an extent that it was deemed necessary to
decide whether the Natural History Departments should be retained at
Bloomsbury.

The various heads of Departments were invited to send in their reports
and opinions on the subject, and a few of their remarks may not appear
superfluous:—

Mr. Hawkins, the Keeper of Antiquities, reported that he could find no
room for the cases of Assyrian Sculptures which had arrived. Sir Charles
Fellows complained that Ionic Trophy Monuments and other works of art
found at Xanthus had been placed in an unbefitting position. Dr. Gray,
of the Natural History Department, conveyed the pleasing intelligence
that if the Zoological Collection in the basement were not speedily
removed to a dryer place it would be utterly destroyed. Mr. Brown
applied for additional room, as that occupied by the Botanical
Department in the basement was quite inadequate to its demands.
Professor Owen, in a report to the Trustees on the same subject,
January, 1857, approved of all the statements of Dr. Gray, who, eight
months later, came forward again with a demand for his gallery and
series of glass cases, and the enlargement of the Insect-Room; and two
months afterwards he laid before the Trustees a fuller statement. Many
more examples might be adduced, but the reader who desires to push his
investigations further should consult a lengthy Parliamentary paper on
the subject, ordered by the House of Commons to be printed, 1st of July,
1858.

Panizzi also wrote two reports, one dated the 10th of November, 1857,
and the other the 10th of June, 1858. In the first of these he fully
discussed the means suggested for relieving two Departments, namely,
those of Mineralogy and Geology, and then continued:—

  “In the Department of Prints and Drawings the want of room, even to
  lodge the portfolios containing the collection, is sufficiently shown
  by the placing of presses in the narrow passage leading from the
  landing into the Print-Room. The display of some of the best prints
  and drawings has often been entertained by the Trustees, who felt how
  important it was that this should be done, but who never could carry
  their intention into effect for want of room. The Kouyunjik-Room, by
  the side of the North-Western portion of the Egyptian Saloon, had been
  built for the purpose of such an exhibition, when the influx of
  Assyrian antiquities forced the Trustees to devote that room to their
  display.”

It appears that the Natural History Department will soon be removed. As
there will, therefore, be more space for a smaller number of
collections, we may hope that it will now be found possible to make good
certain deficiencies which have long been fully recognised, especially
in regard to the Exhibition of Prints and Drawings. Glass and China too,
will form a most attractive feature in the new arrangements.

The author himself has had ample opportunities during the last dozen
years of visiting some of the most important Cabinets of Prints and
Drawings in Europe, and he has no hesitation in saying that no single
collection—not even a combination of two or three—could compare with
that of which our National Institution can boast. Through the good taste
of the present principal Librarian, Mr. Bond, in placing so many screens
in the King’s Library, a step has been taken in the right direction, and
no Englishman—nay, no Foreigner—visiting London should omit to inspect
this wonderful assemblage of works of art.

It was Panizzi’s own idea that, as well as rarities from the Library,
specimens of the handiwork of Raphael, Michael Angelo, Dürer,
Rembrandt—and, indeed, his own _$1_m>—should be framed and exhibited to
the public gaze.

Instruction, practicable and visible, is one of the leading features of
the age; and it is our duty to meet this increasing want by every means
in our power. It is not the feeling that in our hands are the keys of
knowledge which will impart instruction; it is the practical and sincere
wish to utilize the means within our grasp, to educate the masses, which
will alone work a result so eagerly sought for, and so materially
tending to the benefit of future generations.

The enormous pile of building which has just been erected at South
Kensington may, in a sense, be said to owe its existence to the
persistent efforts of Panizzi, to secure more space for the collections
he loved so well. The two following letters on the subject are, we
consider, of great importance:—

                                 “British Museum, October 8th, 1858.

  “My dear Sir George,

          As neither you nor Lord John will come up from Harpton Court
  to attend the meeting of the Standing Committee at 12 o’clock
  to-morrow, I think it fair to ask you both to give half-an-hour to the
  British Museum where you are; and this might be even more useful than
  if you were to attend the meeting.

  The Government are determined, it seems, to adopt the principle of
  dividing the Museum; and Professor Owen, in his address to the British
  Association at Leeds, having read an article in the last _Quarterly
  Review_, drops his objections to the separation, and is indifferent
  about the _site_ of the Natural History Museum: he only demurs to
  there being Trustees.

  Mr. D’Israeli says that the Government have evidence enough as to what
  is to be done, and that they want no more information. I believe he is
  egregiously mistaken, and that the evidence hitherto collected is
  sufficient to prove that things cannot remain in the present state,
  and that something must be done; but there is no evidence or
  suggestion as to what that _something_ must be (excepting only that
  the Superintendent of the Natural History, in the service of the
  Trustees, thinks that his present masters, or anything like them, are
  not desirable.) Now I have a great dread of these indefinite
  _somethings_. I fear that one or two members of the Government who
  have once walked through the Museum, or may have assisted at a meeting
  of Trustees, may think themselves quite competent to draw up a new
  constitution for this and other Museums, which pompously and plausibly
  proposed to the Houses of Parliament may be sanctioned, putting the
  British Museum and all its collections in a worse position than they
  are now, and rendering them less useful to the public. It seems,
  therefore, to me that you and Lord John should consider well the
  subject, and be prepared to advise the Government; and, if necessary,
  resist any scheme that might be lightly or rashly introduced to
  Parliament.

  I apprehend that, whatever be thought of Trustees, it will not be so
  easy to persuade the family Trustees of the Museum that they ought to
  be extinguished.

  I do not think that the Government have yet considered which are the
  collections that ought not to be removed from the present British
  Museum, and which are those that ought to be removed elsewhere. We may
  agree as to removing the Natural History collections; but is it quite
  clear we ought to keep ethnographical collections and works of
  mediæval or christian art?

  Has anyone thought how long it will be before what it may be decided
  upon to remove, can be removed, what is to be done in the meantime,
  and what alterations may be necessary in the present building to fit
  the space left empty by the removal of some collections for the
  reception of those which are to remain here?

  It seems to be generally considered desirable, if not necessary, that
  whenever the Museum or Museums are re-organised, lectures should be
  delivered by its officers. I humbly consider this a great mistake. No
  one can do more than one thing at a time well. A Keeper of collections
  will neglect them to prepare his lectures, and a lecturer will hurry
  through his lectures to attend to his collections; and if not more
  inclined to one than to the other of his two trades, the same man may
  be both a bad lecturer and bad Keeper of collections. As the ‘Jardin
  des Plantes’ at Paris is so much talked of here, with its numerous
  lectures, I trust some evidence will be taken of its condition and of
  the working of its organisation before we adopt it here.

  I should also think that before the extinction of the Museum Trust is
  decided upon, it would be well to consider whether it is desirable to
  allow Institutions like the Museum to be governed by learned and
  scientific men. I will not go so far as to say that the system of
  Trustees is the best that could be devised, but I am fully convinced,
  and ready to prove from experience, that learned and scientific men
  are unfit to govern places like the Museum. Who then is to govern
  these establishments?

  There is a variety of minor points which are worth considering,
  besides those above mentioned. If you and Lord John were to agree to
  some general principles, I dare say Mr. Gladstone would probably agree
  with you on the whole; and then you three might induce, and, if
  necessary, compel the Government to consent to adopting your views. I
  think it, however, requisite that, in some way or other, evidence
  should be taken from men whose opinion carries weight in these
  matters; that the public and the Houses of Parliament should see that
  whatever be ultimately done is done on good grounds and after mature
  consideration. I think the information collected would be of great use
  in coming to a right determination, and I do not see how it can be
  possible to do so without.

  The ‘Supply’ is coming home with a cargo of antiquities from Newton,
  and will call at Carthage for some fifty cases of antiquities from
  Davis. It was to be at Malta on the 25th of last month, and will
  therefore soon be here. Where is all this enormous mass of things to
  be placed?

                                          Ever yours,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

                                           “Harpton, Radnor,
                                                 October 12th, 1858.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I received your letter before Lord John went on to Liverpool,
  and had some conversation with him on the subject of it.

  There are, as it seems to me, two questions respecting the enlargement
  of the British Museum. The first may be called the legal question,
  which is raised by Sir Philip Egerton and others—viz., whether Sir
  Hans Sloane made it a question of his gift that all his collections
  should be kept in one building, or whether, in dealing with these
  collections, there is a ‘will of the founder,’ which the legislature
  is bound to respect, and which is to be a law for all succeeding
  generations, whatever additions the different branches of the Museum
  may receive or require. If this view is to prevail, it is clear that
  we are prevented from even entertaining any plan for the division of
  the collections, whatever its intrinsic advantages may be. But if this
  restriction upon the operations of the present generation is not
  admitted to exist, then we come to the second question—whether it is
  more expedient to enlarge the Museum by adding to the present
  building, or by detaching some branches of it, and providing them with
  a fit repository elsewhere.

  I do not pretend to have mastered the subject sufficiently to have
  formed a confident opinion upon it; but so far as I am at present
  informed, the inclination of my mind is to believe that the Natural
  History branches would be provided for in a separate building, and to
  a certain extent under a separate management.

  At the same time, if the scientific men are to take up the question as
  one of personal feeling and party struggle, and if the cause of
  stuffed beasts is to be argued against that of antiques, as if it was
  Whig against Tory, or Catholic against Protestant, I am not prepared
  to say what are the advantages, if separation are worth the strife and
  animosity, which its accomplishment would create.

  A private gentleman, in arranging his expenditure, may say—I allot so
  much for my kitchen, so much for my cellar, so much for the education
  of my children, so much for my garden, so much for my shooting,
  hunting, &c., &c., and each of his servants must be satisfied with
  what they get. But what sort of life would he lead, and how long would
  he remain out of the Queen’s Bench, if his gardeners wrote letters in
  the _Times_ to complain that he starved his garden, and that his
  hot-houses were in a disgraceful state; if his governess persuaded
  Roebuck to bring the state of his daughters’ education before the
  House, and if his huntsman inserted articles in the _Sporting
  Magazine_ in the style of Junius, displaying the scandalous defects in
  the management of his stables. Yet, with regard to luxuries, such as
  science and art, the Nation is practically in the same condition as a
  private individual. It must measure its expenditure by its means, and
  not, as in the case of the army and navy, consider its necessities
  first and its means afterwards. Yet the representative of each
  Department of Science and Art insists on having the largest possible
  building, in the best possible site, and each Department finds
  successively supporters and champions in Parliament.

  I have no wish to volunteer advice where it is not asked; if the
  Government think they can settle the question themselves, I have no
  wish to interfere. My only fear is that they may find it more
  difficult, on coming to close quarters, than it appears at a distance.
  If the Government refer it to the Trustees for their opinion, I shall
  be quite ready to take part in any Committee which may be appointed to
  consider and investigate the subject. At present I don’t think the
  facts are well ascertained, nor do we know what are the precise
  objects which we should seek to obtain. I see, for example, a great
  difference between keeping a great exhibition of stuffed animals, &c.,
  for all the nursery-maids and children to look at, and keeping a
  collection of Natural History for the use of men of science—like the
  Anatomical Collection at Surgeons’ Hall in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. I
  think that Lord John concurs generally in the view that I have
  expressed, as to the removal of the Natural History Collections.

  There is much to be said in favour of the constitution of a governing
  body like the Museum Trustees. A body of scientific men might expect
  and demand too much; they would violate Talleyrand’s caution about
  excess of zeal. On the other hand, it is desirable to relieve the
  executive Government from direct responsibility in such a matter.

  Query—what is the oldest bilingual glossary of the Latin language?
  What is the earliest vocabulary in which Latin is explained by some
  other tongue? Is the earliest a Latin and Greek (not Greek and Latin)
  glossary, or a Latin and Gothic glossary, or a vocabulary in which
  Latin is rendered into the Lingua volgare? If so, what is the date of
  the latter? I hope you will not think this an unfair question to
  address to so distinguished a _bibliotecario_ as yourself.

                                     Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                       G. C. LEWIS.”

That Panizzi was equally interested in other Departments of the Museum
Mr. Newton could testify, if need were, for that of the antiquities, and
the writer for his own.

Between Mr. Charles Thomas Newton, C.B., and Panizzi, there subsisted
something more than an intimate friendship; a more proper term would be
a warm attachment. We need no greater proof of Mr. Newton’s devotion to
his friend than the fact that when in 1867 the latter was ill, and his
life despaired of, the former devoted all his time to the care of his
sometime colleague. The great number of letters before us, from the hand
of Mr. Newton, would indeed fill a volume of most interesting matter,
relating to his discoveries and travels in the Levant; for he was in the
habit of communicating to his friend, it appears, all his adventures,
whether at Rhodes, Mytilene, Budrum, or Rome. These letters make us
wonder, by their freshness, how time and inclination could have been
found to write them, and are certainly deserving of publication at some
future time. So much important matter, from such a pen, would prove a
treasure to future antiquarians and travellers.

Now Mr. Newton, who had been in the Museum since May, 1840, was, in
February, 1852, appointed by Lord Granville to the Vice-Consulship of
Mytilene.

Whilst there, he carried on various researches and excavations, sending
home from time to time to the British Museum the fruit of his labours.
In April, 1856, Mr. Newton received directions from the Foreign Office
to proceed to Rome, to value the Campana collection then offered to the
British Government. On his return from Rome to London he took this
opportunity to submit his views as to further operations at Budrum;
these he naturally explained to Panizzi, and, through him, it was
arranged that the two should one day go to Brocket Hall, Lord
Palmerston’s country seat, and there meet Lord Clarendon, to talk over
the matter. Lord Palmerston, who was then Premier, with his usual
_savoir-faire_, at once suggested that the Principal Librarian being
present, and the two Ministers being both _ex-officio_ Trustees of the
British Museum, the meeting of this triad might be considered a quorum,
for the settlement of a matter of so much consequence to the National
Institution. It was then agreed that Mr. Newton should at once proceed
to Budrum on special mission. Those were days when operations of this
kind could be carried out with that secrecy and despatch which are
necessary to insure success. In this particular case, there was the more
reason for prompt action, because Ludwig Ross, a distinguished German
explorer, had already visited Budrum, and noticed in his travels the
Lions from the Mausoleum, then built into the walls of the Castle at
Budrum.

Mr. Newton’s demands were surely not exorbitant; he suggested that a
firman authorizing the removal of the Lions should be obtained from the
Porte, declaring that the sum of £2,000, and the services of a
ship-of-war, for at least six months, would be necessary to insure the
success of the expedition. These suggestions were, without loss of time,
acted upon, and H.M.’s ship “Gorgon,” commanded by Captain Towsey, was
chartered, and she arrived at Budrum in the month of November, 1856.

It is unnecessary now to say that the finding of the ever famous tomb of
Mausolus at Halicarnassus (Budrum) was an event of the first importance
to Classical Archæology, or, what is better, that the recovery of part
of the slabs of the frieze of this monument, along with other
sculptures, was for the history of Greek sculpture in the age of
Praxiteles and Scopas, of the same importance, as the marbles of the
Parthenon for the history of sculpture in the time of Pheidias. Several
of the slabs of the frieze from the Mausoleum had been obtained for the
British Museum, through the late Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, some years
previous to Mr. Newton’s expedition; but a comparison of them with the
newly-recovered fragments at once shows how admirably the skill of the
artist, lost and obliterated in the older slabs, had been preserved in
Mr. Newton’s. It was not from the circumstances, perhaps, possible to
affirm that this or that portion of the Sculptures was the work of
Praxiteles, or of Scopas; but this at any rate could be said, that the
Sculptures must be taken as works executed under the eyes of these
artists, and, doubtless, greatly influenced by them. Here is what Mr.
Newton says of them:—

                                          “Budrum, 26th April, 1857.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Since I last wrote, we have made some brilliant discoveries.
  On the Eastern Side of the Mausoleum I have found a beautiful piece of
  frieze, three figures, an Amazon attacking a prostrate Greek, and a
  mounted figure.

  This piece of frieze ranges with that now in the British Museum. It is
  in much finer condition, and is a most exquisite specimen of high
  relief. Being found in the Eastern Side, I think we may venture to
  consider it the work of Scopas, because a block of that size could not
  have been transported far without greater injury. On the North Side,
  digging on beyond the apparent boundary of the _temenos_, we came to a
  beautiful Hellenic wall about three feet behind the line cut out of
  the rock, which marks the boundaries of the quadrangle.

  This wall, built of isodomous masonry, is evidently the boundary of
  the precinct (Pliny’s _circuitus_) on this side. Digging beyond it to
  the North, I came to a magnificent colossal female head lying in the
  ground. The hair is arranged in regular curls on the forehead, and
  bound with a coif behind, like the head-dress on the contemporary
  silver coins of Syracuse. This head is one of the most interesting
  discoveries we have made. It is in fine condition; the nose and mouth
  have suffered a little. Following the wall Eastward from this point,
  we came to a mass of ruins lying as they had originally fallen. Near
  the surface was a Lion of the same size as those in the Castle, nearly
  entire and in magnificent condition. We have the two forelegs, and
  hope to find the paws. The face quite perfect, the inside of the mouth
  coloured red, the very roughness of the tongue rendered. This Lion,
  though perhaps inferior to the rest in style, and not finished
  throughout, is a most noble beast. I think the British public will
  admire him, because there is so little for the imagination to supply.

  While we were getting him out, we discovered a male (?) head in three
  pieces, but capable of being united without much loss. I think, an
  Apollo, exceedingly fine, on a smaller scale than the other; also part
  of a horse’s head, on an enormous scale, bigger, I think, than the
  equestrian statue I first found. After getting these out, we came upon
  a most beautiful draped female figure in very fine condition, but
  headless; it is in two pieces, the first from the neck to the knees,
  the second from the knees to the feet. The drapery of this figure
  seems to me equal to any in the Elgin-Room. The statue must have been
  about ten feet long. As we were getting it out, we discovered another
  colossal figure lying a little to the North of it. This we had not
  time to get out yesterday, and to-day is Sunday, so it must remain
  till to-morrow. I forgot to mention that on the piece of the horse’s
  head a portion of bronze bridle, with a circular ornament, was still
  fixed, but another piece of horse, with another piece of bronze
  bridle, was found close to it. You see that these discoveries promise
  well. My impression is that we are now, for the first time, exploring
  a part of the site where the ruins have not been disturbed since the
  building fell. Hence the completeness and fine condition of the
  sculpture....

                                         Yours very sincerely,
                                                      C. T. NEWTON.”

On the 8th of June, of the same year, again Mr. Newton wrote to
Panizzi;—

  “You will rejoice to hear that along the Eastern Side of the Mausoleum
  I found two more very fine slabs of frieze, one nearly six feet long,
  with an Amazon on horseback, sitting with her face to the tail,
  shooting at a foe behind her, after the Parthian fashion—a most bold
  and vigorous design; the other, a combat on foot. It is remarkable
  that these four slabs of frieze have been found in a line on the
  Eastern Side. This makes me think they are all from the hand of
  Scopas. Together they make up about 16 feet, which, with the slabs now
  in the British Museum, will make up a total length of about 80 feet. I
  hope you have secured the Genoa slab at any price.

  On the North Side, I have found the other half of the head of the
  great horse. The bronze bit, in perfect preservation, was still in his
  mouth! The nostrils are distended, much in the manner of those in the
  horse’s head from the Car of Night in the Elgin-Room, so that these
  two heads, the works of successive schools, will be an interesting
  subject of comparison. Besides this, I have found a face broken off
  from a colossal male head. I think this belongs to the figure in the
  chariot. It seems to be an ideal portrait, not unlike that of
  Alexander the Great on the coins of Lysimachus. It represents a man,
  perhaps Mausolus himself, in the prime of life, slightly bearded. It
  is in very fine condition, and is, altogether, the finest head I have
  ever seen, particularly interesting, because it seems to form the
  connecting link between the schools of Scopas and that of Lysippus. I
  have still got a good deal of ground to dig on the North Side, but the
  proprietors are very obstinate.

                                            Yours ever sincerely,
                                                      C. T. NEWTON.”

On the 17th of January, 1861, Mr. Newton was appointed Keeper of Greek
and Roman Antiquities, then organized as a separate Department of the
Museum. From that time to now he has been constantly occupied, with a
success so well known that it is unnecessary to refer to it. In the
enlargement and enriching of his Department, partly by the direction of
excavations on classical soil—memorably those at Ephesus, which resulted
in the discovery of the Temple of Diana—and partly by the purchase of
celebrated collections of antiquities. Chief among his transactions of
the latter kind was the purchase of the collection of the Duke de Blacas
in 1866, which, as public opinion testified at the time, was a most
important gain to the National Museum. The acquisition was not effected
without difficulties, as may be seen from the following letter:—

                                   “Hôtel des Deux Mondes, Paris,
                                                November 25th, 1866.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Jones tells me that after the meeting of the Trustees on
  Friday, Mr. D’Israeli had an interview with you about the Blacas
  purchase. I write, therefore, to thank you for having backed my
  recommendation, which I am quite sure you must have done strongly, or
  otherwise the Government would not have come to a decision so rapidly.
  I never was more astonished than when I received authority to treat on
  Sunday morning last. While we were signing the contract poor DeWitte
  was at the Grand’Messe. ‘If I had only known,’ he said to me
  afterwards, ‘two hours sooner what you were about, I would have
  telegraphed to the Emperor at Compiègne.’ The French are greatly
  disgusted. From all I can learn, they meant to offer about £40,000,
  and keep the matter dragging on till they had found out our last
  offer. I am very much pleased at the result, because I know how
  greatly the value of our Museum, as a whole, will be increased by this
  purchase, which supplies exactly what we were most deficient in.

  There will, I have no doubt, be a great outcry in England about the
  largeness of the sum; but I am perfectly ready to bear the brunt of
  all that. The public will find out in time what a prize they have got.
  I hear that Mérimée was very anxious that it should be secured for the
  Louvre. He was on the Commission, but was obliged to go South. Perhaps
  you may be writing to him; I should like very much to hear what he has
  to say about the purchase. There is no one who has done more to defend
  my purchases than he has, up to this date, so I hope he will now. I am
  going to see the collection of M. Thiers to-morrow morning, and shall
  be curious to hear what he says.

                                       Yours ever sincerely,
                                                      C. T. NEWTON.”

We trust that we shall not be held to have failed in our endeavour to do
justice to the services rendered by Mr. Newton to the National Museum.
Apart from the high attainments to which testimony should be offered,
this gentleman was so intimately connected with the subject of the
memoir, that the omission of such a record would have been a serious
fault, considering the constant intercommunion which existed between the
two, and the mutual assistance they rendered each other.

As a conclusion to our present chapter, it must be noted that on the 6th
of July, 1859, Panizzi was admitted to the Honorary Degree of D.C.L. at
the University of Oxford.

[Illustration]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XVI

_Desire to Visit Naples; Pius IX; Ferdinand II; Revolution of 1848;
    Poerio and Settembrini; ‘Giovine Italia;’ Gladstone’s Visit to
    Naples._


It may be readily conceived that Panizzi did not regard as matters of
secondary importance, or affection, the affairs of his native Italy. In
the summer of 1846, being desirous of paying, for the first time, a
visit to Naples, he applied to the Government of that State for the
necessary permission through Lord Palmerston, who addressed the
following letter to Sir William Temple on his friend’s behalf:—

                                              “September 25th, 1846.

  “Sir,

  I have to inform you that Mr. Panizzi, a native of Modena, who has now
  been for many years resident in England, who holds the appointment of
  Keeper of the Printed Books in the British Museum, wishes to go to
  Italy in the course of this autumn, and to visit Naples. Mr. Panizzi
  was, many years ago, connected with some persons who, on account of
  their political opinions, had incurred the displeasure of the late
  Duke of Modena; but Mr. Panizzi has long ceased to have anything to do
  with Italian politics, and confines himself entirely to his official
  duties in England, where he enjoys the friendship and esteem of
  distinguished men of all parties.

  Mr. Panizzi, however, would not like to enter the Neapolitan territory
  unless he were previously assured that he would be permitted to do so
  without hindrance, and that he would be free from molestation during
  the short time he might remain there, and as many members of H. M’s
  Government have a great regard for Mr. Panizzi, and feel an interest
  in what concerns him, I have to desire that you will mention this to
  the Neapolitan Government, and that you will state H.M.’s Government
  would be much gratified if the requested assurance could be given.

                                         I have, &c., &c.,
                                                        PALMERSTON.”

After some delay, in consequence, according to Sir William’s account, of
difficulties raised by the Minister of Police at Naples, the required
permission was granted; but Panizzi did not think fit to avail himself
of it upon this occasion. His visit, however, as will be seen, was only
postponed. It will also be noticed that his influence was in course of
time an important, if not the main instrument whereby the liberation of
the unhappy victims of tyranny, then lying in the horrible dungeons of
Naples, was effected.

[Illustration]

In order to lay clearly before the reader the manner in which such
influence was exercised, it is best to give a brief account of the
condition of Naples at and about the period of turmoil and revolution in
Europe in the years 1847-9, and of the paternal treatment bestowed by
the Government of Ferdinand II., monarch of the Two Sicilies (_justly_
entitled to the appellation of _pater patriæ_) on many of his ungrateful
and recalcitrant subjects.

On the death (June 1st, 1846) of Gregory XVI., a pontiff with a true and
earnest feeling of respect for things as they are, and a righteous
aversion to all unnecessary and gratuitous reforms, great expectations
were anticipated throughout all Italy of good results from the rule of
his successor, Pius IX. The most sanguine hopes were entertained that,
through him, the rights of liberty would be secured; and indeed, as
Gioberti says, he was regarded as no less than the arbiter of peace in
Europe. Without casting the shadow of suspicion on the genuineness of
the new Pope’s good intentions, whereof he gave ample proof on his
accession to the Papal Chair, it is nevertheless pretty evident that,
under the most favourable circumstances, these expectations stood but
little chance of fulfilment. Even had Pius IX. not been deceived in the
first instance, and by subsequent revolution frightened out of the
liberal principles to which he at first gave his adherence, he was
scarcely, himself, in a position to carry them into practice. To preach
reform and constitutionalism from the Vatican was to subvert the Papal
seat. External obstacles, again, would assuredly stand in the way of him
who should attempt to promote even moderate reforms in an Italian State
of the period. Many men who, in other places, and under other
circumstances, would have been regarded as models of enlightenment and
moderation, shamed by the miserable history of their country, and
exasperated by long-continued oppression and misrule, had become
somewhat blind to the wholesome doctrine that the art of construction is
a chief constituent of political order. To another party, formidable in
numbers if not conspicuous for wisdom, it was but labour lost to proffer
anything in the shape of reform; these men would be content with nothing
short of destruction. Of them and their adherents Panizzi has, as will
be observed, expressed his fear and abhorrence in no measured terms.
Hence his alienation from Mazzini, who, in his egregious selfishness,
would have destroyed the elements of power that existed, but had never
displayed the ability to provide a substitute.

[Illustration]

Pius IX., whose intellectual powers were far from equal to the largeness
of his heart, soon became involved in difficulties. His constant dread
of acting prejudicially to the interests of the Church weighed him down;
and the influence of Count Ludolf (Neapolitan Minister at Rome, well
known for his retrogressive opinions) probably thwarted his good
intentions in no small degree. From want of confidence in himself, as
well as from despair at the impediments, subjective and objective, which
perpetually obtruded themselves upon him, Pius had recourse for
protection and direction to the counsel of others. Ill advisers were
those whom he chose—Grasselini, Gizzi, and Antonelli. The results of
vacillation and evil communication were speedily visible. Already, in
November, 1846, a few short months after his accession, in his address
to the Patriarchs and Archbishops, he roundly condemned everything that
bore the name of _Progress_ as _seductive, false, deceitful, seditious,
foolish, and destructive of ties religious, political, and social_.

The first notable act of the reign of Pius IX. had been to grant a
general amnesty to all political offenders. This act of clemency, though
it gained for him a certain amount of well-deserved popularity,
unhappily smothered in the heart of Ferdinand II. all the veneration
with which that monarch had been wont to regard the occupants of St.
Peter’s chair. The King even went so far, in his indignation, as to
stigmatise the Pope as the head of “Young Italy.” With his people it was
different. The sensation created at Naples by this amnesty was intense.
The inhabitants demanded that it should be placarded throughout the
city; the King, however, not only set his face against the proposal, but
peremptorily forbade all demonstrations in favour of His Holiness,
suppressed the sale of his portraits, and interdicted the admission into
the country of Roman newspapers. Indeed, the very mention of the Pope’s
name was regarded as bordering on treason, and as calling for the notice
of the police.

It might possibly have come to pass, had foreign powers possessed more
satisfactory relations with one another at this time, that better order
would, under the pressure of external suasion, have been maintained in
the Government of more than one Italian State. The “Spanish Marriages”
had created a coolness between France and England, and M. Guizot’s
foreign policy had thrown France, so far as regarded Italy, into the
arms of Austria and the reactionary party. The prospect of establishing
civil and religious liberty in the Peninsula looked extremely obscure.
The clamouring for reform, however, continued, intermittently throughout
Italy. In Tuscany there appeared a speck of light in the surrounding
darkness: for, urged by his people the Grand Duke had shown himself
nothing loth to grant reforms demanded of him. In Rome meetings and
demonstrations were frequent. Amidst all this Ferdinand remained
unmoved, notwithstanding the importunate entreaties of the emissaries of
Louis-Philippe, the Duke D’Aumale, and Prince de Joinville. In fact his
Majesty plainly and deliberately gave them to understand that their
presence in his kingdom was undesirable.

Liberty of the Press being excluded from the King’s Dominions, its place
was filled by the usual substitute, the issue of anonymous pamphlets;
amongst many others, was one entitled _Protesto del Popolo delle due
Sicilie_, from the pen of the celebrated Luigi Settembrini. This work,
which was immediately seized, contained a long and detailed account of
the cruelties inflicted during so many years by the Neapolitan
Government on its hapless subjects. A copy of the pamphlet reached the
hands of Ferdinand, who determined that no pains should be spared to
discover its author. Suspicion fell on many of the leading Liberals, who
were consequently imprisoned, amongst them Carlo Poerio, Mariano
d’Ayala, Domenico Mauro, and others. Banishment was the sentence of
those who could not be seized, and amongst them was Settembrini, who
escaping to Malta, no sooner found himself on safe ground, than he
avowed himself as author of the pamphlet.

Meanwhile Calabria and Sicily were in a state of fermentation, and the
King perplexed by the general condition of affairs, was induced to grant
a general amnesty.

The North of Italy was at that time in calmer and happier circumstances.
Charles Albert, King of Sardinia, had consented to measures of Liberal
Reform, and certain influential northern Italians, headed by Counts
Mammiani and Balbo, Massimo d’Azeglio, Cavour and Silvio Pellico, had
petitioned Ferdinand II. to make concessions similar to those they
enjoyed in their kingdom, but without avail. Nor was England wanting in
sympathy with the suffering, for Lord Minto, by direction of Lord
Palmerston, had arrived from the North of Italy, at Naples, on an
intercessory mission to the King in behalf of his people.

This interference of England caused much consternation in Austria.
Prince Metternich warned Lord Palmerston that the Emperor was firmly
resolved to keep his Empire intact. His Lordship’s reply to the warning
was characteristic; that, although he respected the rights of Austria,
still he entertained a strong opinion that the people of Italy had a
perfect right to use all legitimate means for their own amelioration. At
Naples, notwithstanding Lord Minto’s mission, troubles increased. The
King remained as obdurate as ever, and was supported by the members of
his family, with the single exception of the Count of Syracuse, who, for
the expression of his views, was forthwith expelled from the kingdom.

Earnestly as England desired the promotion of liberty in Italy, she was
not unmindful of the safety of Kings; and, consequently, the then
British Ambassador at Rome suggested that the English fleet should
proceed to Naples to protect the King, and that Count Ludolf should be
informed “that the encouragement of popular insurrection formed no part
of the hearty support England was disposed to give to the progress of
liberal reform in Italy, and at the same time strongly impressing on him
the danger to which the King would be exposed, unless he made some
advances to satisfy the just expectations of his subjects.”

In December, 1847, a revolution of vast magnitude was impending at
Palermo, and in the same month a final appeal was made to the King
urging him to recognise the rights of his subjects.

The 12th of January, 1848, was fixed on as the day for the expiration of
this ultimatum. As heretofore, the application was treated with
contempt, and an armed force was dispatched, headed by the Duke Serra
Capriola.

The first shots were fired on the 12th of January, the fête-day of the
King, whereupon fresh troops were sent from Naples with orders to
Désauget, the General commanding, that, in case of resistance, he should
_make a garden of Palermo_. Désauget accordingly bombarded the town, but
happily failed to make a _garden_ or a desert of it, and was forced,
after losing many men, to return to Naples. So matters went on from bad
to worse. No sooner had the King made concessions than he withdrew them,
continually fore-swearing himself.

The subjugation of the Sicilians (in support of whom Lord Minto, much
disappointed by a pseudo-constitution granted by the King, in which
their rights were simply disregarded, had set out for Palermo), still
remained as difficult of completion as ever. On the 25th of March, the
Sicilian Parliament met at the last-named place, and declared the
dethronement of Ferdinand II. Thereupon ensued the bombardment of
Messina, whence arose the King’s universally-known nickname of _King
Bomba_. The independence of Sicily was now recognised by France and
England. In May the cry of “Religion in Danger!” was raised by the
Royalist clique, and the refusal of St. Januarius to work his annual
miracle infused much terror into the superstitious minds of the lower
orders. Unfortunately, the means successfully employed in times past by
a certain French General to induce the Saint to perform his duty were
now impracticable.

By this time, a National Guard having been instituted, the King’s
position was really imperilled, and he was in the act of preparing with
his family to quit Naples by sea, when the troops and the populace came
into collision. This, as usual, resulted in street fighting; also, as a
natural consequence, the regulars gained the mastery, and a sad massacre
ensued; whilst to slaughter, the _Lazzaroni_, the natural adherents of
the King, added the inevitable accompaniment of pillage. Under such
circumstances did Naples remain in a state of siege until the 15th of
June.

Meantime the Sicilians had proclaimed the Duke of Genoa their future
ruler; a division of 16,000 troops, under Filangieri, was dispatched for
active service, and, after an obstinate resistance, landed at Messina.

In November the King proceeded to Gaeta, in order to meet there Pius
IX., who, by this time having lost his popularity, had gained an
equivalent by securing the friendship of Ferdinand. Whilst there, news
of the Austrian victory at Novara reached the ears of the two
confederates, and was the cause of great rejoicing to both;
notwithstanding that, forced by popular pressure, Ferdinand had
despatched 12,000 of his troops (he had promised 40,000) as a contingent
to the Sardinian army. This great triumph of absolutism by no means
disposed the King to alter, or even to moderate, his style of
government. Arrests and acts of violence and brutality became
continuous, and the unhappy Liberals were unduly rewarded for their
attachment to the cause of freedom—Filippo Agresti, Carlo Poerio, and
Luigi Settembrini being arrested and imprisoned in the dungeons of the
“Vicaria,” the most loathsome of the invariably loathsome Neapolitan
prisons.

Thus much have we written to show the state of Naples at the time to
which our biography appertains. Yet this brief sketch of the position
would be incomplete did we altogether ignore the two patriots, Poerio
and Settembrini, who, not merely on account of their notoriety as chiefs
of the Liberal party, but as friends both of Panizzi and Mr. Gladstone,
call for some especial notice in these pages.

Whoever has studied the history of Italy, more especially the history of
the country in these latter times, will have learnt that Italian
unity—the zeal for which had, during all the centuries between King
Arduinus and Victor Emmanuel II., never become extinguished—was not
accomplished by the efforts of any one individual. Amongst the number of
those in the highest rank who devoted their lives to the achievement of
the noble end, stand Poerio and Settembrini.

Their patriotism extended beyond the circumscription of their native
town, province, or State; they felt that each subordinate nationality
must blend with the others, to enable their common Italy to take her due
place in the assembly of nations—to speak with undivided voice on the
affairs of Europe; to be, in fact, the one Italy of their
aspirations—strong because united. For this, while their individual
designations were still Modenese, Neapolitans, Venetians, or what not,
they must be, over and above all, Italians.

[Illustration]

Poerio was born at Naples in 1803. He afterwards became a lawyer, and
for some time during the troubled reign of Ferdinand was, at least when
at liberty, the leader of the “Left” in the Neapolitan Parliament. The
term “a chequered life” might fairly be used as expressive of such a
career; were it not that his undertakings, having all the same end in
view, in which he was almost incessantly engaged, and the perpetual
series of arrests and imprisonments which he suffered, imparted as it
were, a melancholy uniformity to his career. In 1831 the crown of Italy
was offered by the patriots of the Romagno to Ferdinand II. That
monarch, probably feeling an innate disability to govern
constitutionally, or otherwise than according to the dictates of his own
will, a condition doubtless affixed to the tender, declined the
proffered gift. What he might have done had he accepted, must remain in
the realm of conjecture; his refusal to lend his aid to the settlement
of the country’s deplorably unsettled state caused plot upon plot to
spring up on all sides. The name _Liberali_ was now first given to the
opponents of the King. These were unceasing in preaching to the people,
according to their light, the blessings of Constitutional Government. If
their skill in politics, as may reasonably be supposed, was small, their
honesty and love of country were large; and assuredly no form which they
may have conceived, however crude, could have equalled in weakness and
depravity the various petty tyrannies by which their country was
distracted. Amongst these _Liberali_, the most active and beyond doubt
the most able, was Carlo Poerio. It is worthy of remark that when, in
1847, Pius IX. had achieved his reputation as the first reformer of
Italy, the only two men of note who disbelieved in him were Poerio and
King Ferdinand II. After the breaking out of the Sicilian Revolution on
the 12th of January, 1848, at the time he was a prisoner, Poerio’s
fortunes took a more favourable turn. Freed from his bondage, he was
made Prime Minister, and subsequently Minister of Public Instruction.
His aspirations, however, were too modest to assume such dignity—his aim
was to be no more than a simple Member of Parliament, and in two months
he had retired from all official life. But his days of freedom were
destined to be but of short duration. On the 19th of July, 1849, he was
again arrested, and confined in the Castel dell’ Ovo, and from thence
removed to the “Vicaria.” From this he was on the 1st of February, 1850,
taken in chains to the Arsenal, and with Michele Pironti sent as a
common convict to Nisida.

Were we to relate _all_ the adventures of Poerio, interesting and
important as they are, it would be properly considered an interpolation
in our biography. A great and melancholy portion of the story is best
told in his own words. He was asked, on his way to the dungeons, how he
was, and he answered _Fò questa cura di ferro da parecchi anni, e mi
sento più forte (I have now been taking this iron remedy for several
years, and feel much stronger)_. In a future chapter we shall have still
more to say respecting this _martyr of liberty_; but let us pass to
those later years of his life, when tardy success hardly requited such
loving patriotism, and barely compensated for his great misfortunes. In
1859, when he came out of prison, he was elected member for Arezzo, but
steadily refused to accept a place in the Cabinet, although much pressed
by Cavour. He died on the 28th of April, 1867.

[Illustration]

Luigi Settembrini, though standing many rungs of the political ladder
lower than Poerio, was nevertheless a hardy and enthusiastic patriot.
Mr. Gladstone wrote of him in his letters to Lord Aberdeen (hereafter to
be mentioned) as one _in a sphere by some degrees narrower, but with a
character quite as pure and fair_ as Poerio’s. Settembrini was born at
Naples, the 17th of April, 1813. His father was a lawyer, and, like his
son, a patriot, and had fought for his country in the stirring days of
1820-1. Of Luigi’s private life we may say that he was a teacher of
Italian literature and an eminent classical scholar. In 1848 he,
together with Poerio, was tried on the trumped-up charge of being member
of a secret society. This charge was further supported by a letter
concocted by the police, so gross and palpable a forgery that the very
judges in the case considered it more prudent to reject it as evidence.
With Poerio and forty more he was capitally convicted. The sentence was
not executed, yet he was reserved for a fate as hard—perpetual
imprisonment _upon a remote sea-girt rock_.

Although Settembrini was in the above case most unjustifiably, nay,
iniquitously, convicted, and barbarously punished, it is well known that
he was, as a matter of fact, an ardent supporter of the society called
“Giovine Italia,” an association which, had the sagacity of its
directors been more, and the audacity of its purposes less, might have
given some trouble to the then rulers of Italy. When the King of Naples,
as has been said, charged Pius IX. with being at the head of _Young
Italy_, he probably made use of the most scurrilous phrase, by way of
accusation, which occurred to him. The “Giovine Italia,” however, was an
established fact, albeit the association numbered not the Pope amongst
its members, nor was it under the special protection of the Church.
Tyranny has this superiority over luckless poverty that it renders those
on whom it presses dangerous as well as ridiculous. This peculiar form
of danger, the Secret Society, which tyranny calls into existence, is
commonly less formidable to the powers against which it is organised
than to the causes which it is intended to protect. Had the modest
programme of the “Giovine Italia” been carried into execution, a
despotism would have been created more unbearable than the yoke of
Austria, the Vatican, and King Bomba united. The prime object of this
society was to abolish all Princes then reigning in Italy—including, of
course, the Pope—and not only to drive the Austrians out of the country,
but the French from Corsica and the English from Malta. When these
laudable ends had been accomplished, a great Military Republic was to be
established under a supreme Dictator, residing at Rome, with ten consuls
to govern the ten divisions into which the whole of Italy was to be
parcelled out. Each province or division was to be under a colonel, its
Municipal Government being administered by a captain. To each division,
subject to the officers thereof, was to belong a treasurer, himself also
a military man. In addition to these officers an order was to be
instituted entitled “Apostoles,” whose duty it should be to act as
dictatorial or consular agents, and to settle and arrange matters in
general.

The regulations for the internal conduct of the Society show a certain
skill of organization, coupled with a good deal of the childishness of
bugbear solemnity usually appertaining to such associations. The
following will serve as specimens of some of the more important of these
regulations:—“No meetings of members to be allowed, and no conversation
between members more than two in number at any one time. Oaths to be
sworn on a skull and dagger. The Republican flag to be a white skull on
a black field, and the motto _Unità, Libertà, Indipendenza_. The dress
to be black, and the arms a musket and bayonet, with a side dagger.
Drilling to form a principal and constant duty.”

Although a Secret Society of this description is a standing monument of
folly and wickedness, yet it is hardly possible, considering the state
of things in Italy at the time of which we write, not to feel some
compassion and make some allowance for the conspirators of “Giovine
Italia.” Their great idea—the Unity of Italy—had been set forth by Dante
according to a poet’s conception. Macchiavelli had planned its execution
as a statesman. The love of country was extended by the patriotic
subject of the kingdom of the Two Sicilies to every comer of his native
land. The dream—if dream it may be called—has found its accomplishment
in reality within our own time, but happily not by the agency nor after
the ideas and programme of “Young Italy.”

[Illustration]

In the early part of 1851 Mr. Gladstone made his memorable visit to
Naples; _Si natura negat facit indignatio versum_. The great statesman
possessed a nature particularly averse to revolutionary sentiments or
prejudices, and a more impartial judge betwixt King and People never
existed. Shortly after his arrival he had “supped full of horrors,” and
he longed to express his inward feelings on the palpable absence of
justice in the actions of the Neapolitan Government, and the cruelties
practised on the persons of hapless political offenders, many wrongfully
condemned—cruelties of which he was an unwilling and shocked witness.
His observations resulted in the two celebrated letters to Lord
Aberdeen. The general character of the administration is well summed up
in a pithy sentence quoted in the first, _E la negazione di Dio eretta a
sistema di governo_. (This is the negation of God erected into a system
of government.)

Mr. Gladstone, with his usual moderation and desire of accuracy,
declines, in these letters, to decide, and shows himself willing to give
Ferdinand the benefit of all doubt on the subject. He even records an
instance of “a direct and unceremonious appeal to the King’s humanity,
which met with a response on his part evidently sincere.” His account of
the prisons of Naples inclines us to refer our readers to this
correspondence rather than to transfer his description to our own pages.
Suffice it to say, that he calls them “the extreme of filth and horror,”
the Vicaria “that charnel-house,” in which, amongst other iniquities,
even proper medical assistance was withheld from the sick prisoners.

It was not long ere an answer to these statements was attempted by the
Neapolitan Government, under the title _Rassegna degli Errori e delle
Fallacie pubblicate dal Sig. Gladstone_, &c, &c. This brochure evinced
an ingenuity of sophistical argument, to say the least of it, only
worthy of such a cause. Before any authorized reply to it appeared, it
had been skilfully and sufficiently answered by an anonymous author in a
pamphlet entitled:—_A Detailed Exposure of the Apology put forth by the
Neapolitan Government, in reply to the Charges of Mr. Gladstone, under
the title of Rassegna, &c., &c. (1852). London_. Mr. Gladstone’s own
answer, entitled, _An Examination of The Official Reply of the
Neapolitan Government_, was published soon afterwards. In this the
writer grants the utmost limits of concession to his opponents; whatever
rests not on manifestly sufficient evidence, nay, on moral certainty, he
retracts: whatever even seems to require modification, he unhesitatingly
modifies; but, modification and retraction notwithstanding, it must be
acknowledged that the case stands much as it was. To quote the author’s
own words:—“I believe that, for my own vindication, I might without any
new publication have relied in perfect safety upon the verdict already
given by the public opinion and announced by the press of Europe. The
arrow has shot deep into the mark, and cannot be dislodged.”

Judging from a letter of Mr. Gladstone’s to Panizzi, it may be concluded
that the latter had much to do with the publication of these famous
letters:—

                                                 “October 6th, 1849.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          “... You and I have, I think, been looking with much the same
  feeling at what has been passing; in Rome. I am no great revolutionist
  elsewhere; but I am persuaded that the civil Government of three
  millions of people ought not to be carried on only by priests, and a
  real representative system giving the community the power of the
  purse, is the best, and, so far as I can see, ought to be accepted or
  endured.

                                      Always very sincerely yours,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”



[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XVII

_Cardinal Alberoni; Panizzi and Lord Shrewsbury; Correspondence arising
    from Gladstone’s Visit to Naples._


There now arose, mainly out of the great subject treated by the
Gladstone letters, an important correspondence between Panizzi and Lord
Shrewsbury, who died at Naples, Nov. 9th, 1852. In 1850, his Lordship
went to reside in quiet retirement at his villa near Palermo, from
whence he visited Switzerland, and returned in Oct., 1852, but spent the
Autumn at Rome. In politics he was a Whig. In the Catholic Directory we
read ‘that the angelic purity of Lord Shrewsbury was the theme of every
one’s admiration, and never did he allow a light or indelicate word, or
the slightest allusion contrary to modesty to be made before him.’ In
order that the reader may rightly understand the first few lines of this
chapter, it must be stated _en passant_, that Panizzi had written in the
British and Foreign Review for October, 1844, an article on the Republic
of San Marino, in which he attempted a vindication of that brilliant
example of a self-made man and dexterous (we may say unscrupulous)
politician, Cardinal Alberoni. Let it also be said that the dark as well
as the bright side of Alberoni’s character is therein treated with
perfect impartiality. His intention was to write a full biography of the
eminent Cardinal, and had requested Lord Shrewsbury to procure him some
documents at Rome, as material for the work.

The commencement of Lord Shrewsbury’s first letter contains the answer
to this commission:—

                                          “Palermo, April 5th, 1851.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          As a private opportunity offers for England, I take advantage
  of it to say that I have by no means neglected your commission, yet I
  can only say in general terms that I have not succeeded in all your
  desire, for just now I cannot lay my hand on the correspondence, but
  the papers are where no one can get at them without a great deal of
  fuss, and without the intervention of some influential person on the
  spot, and who will undertake to examine them at the same time; and now
  that Cardinal Wiseman has, to our great surprise, left the position he
  was destined for, and taken up another where we did not expect to see
  him, the scheme you had so honourably intended for the vindication of
  an injured Prelate, and calumniated diplomatist and statesman, must
  fall to the ground for the present. Of course you have “Istoria del
  Cardinale Alberoni, Seconda Edizione, &c, &c., Amsterdam, 1720.” This
  appears, by the notice of it, to be an authentic and able defence of
  the Cardinal, containing four letters written by _himself_ from
  Sestri, _in reply to the accusations brought against him_. If you can
  suggest anything I shall be happy to attend to it, but things at Rome
  are so perplexed and troublesome that it is difficult to get anyone to
  take an interest in matters that do not immediately concern their own
  duties. Had our friend Cardinal Wiseman remained, the thing could have
  been done no doubt, but he too has other questions to occupy him just
  at present....”

The following brilliant passage in the same letter commences the
controversy between the correspondents on the affairs of the Neapolitan
Government—_Risum teneatis?_

  “We enjoy the peace and quiet—_both civil and religious_—of this place
  amazingly: and begin to feel that we are safer and happier under the
  absolutism of Ferdinand II., and the Martial Law of our Good Prince
  Satriano, than under the boasted sway of the ‘Glorious Principles!!’
  For, under your good friend Ferdinand, and his worthy representative,
  we are sure of safety and protection, as long as we observe the law,
  as becomes a peaceful member of society. But, under the ‘Glorious
  Principles‘ we violate no law, and fancy ourselves safe, when, lo and
  behold, we are arraigned as criminals, and condemned to be mulct to
  the last farthing by an _ex post facto_ arrangement of the collective
  wisdom (?) of the freest and most enlightened nation under the sun!
  But I shall shock your sensitive nerves, and scandalize your
  constitutional orthodoxy, so I must bid you good-bye, and beg of you
  to believe me, dear Mr. Panizzi, your very obedient and obliged friend
  and servant,

                                                        SHREWSBURY.”

Thus Panizzi replied to the first of these passages:—

                                  “British Museum, April 24th, 1851.

  “My dear Lord,

          I have had the honour to receive, a few days ago, your
  Lordship’s letter of the fifth inst., than which no letter could have
  given me greater pleasure. I should have acknowledged this honour ere
  this, had not the malady and subsequent death of Lord Langdale, one of
  the best friends I have ever had, taken from me the power of
  fulfilling even the most agreeable duty of thanking your Lordship for
  the kindness in remembering my request in reference to Alberoni, and
  still more for that of addressing to me so excellent a letter as you
  have been pleased to do. I cannot give your Lordship better proof of
  the value I set on your communication than by respectfully and frankly
  laying before your Lordship my views on the various topics to which
  your letter draws my attention, even when those views do not
  unfortunately coincide with your Lordship’s. Before coming to that,
  however, I wish to say a few words respecting Alberoni. From Prince
  Castelcicala I had already received a message, for which I begged him
  to thank your Lordship, showing that you had not forgotten the favour
  I had been encouraged by your kindness to ask your Lordship. I now beg
  to enclose a memorandum in Italian, stating in a few words what I want
  from Rome, and why I want it, and if a further attempt could be made I
  should feel obliged; if not, we must have patience. The Emperor of
  Russia has actually graciously condescended to order the copies of
  certain documents in his Imperial Archives to be made out and sent to
  me, and at Rome one cannot, even through the powerful interest of your
  Lordship, find means of knowing whether certain papers contain any
  charge against a Cardinal, who was certainly innocent, who is
  calumniated in history, and whose innocence, it is expected, would be
  fully established were the contents of the papers in question known.
  These are mortifying comparisons, my Lord, for us both as Catholics,
  and for me, moreover, as an Italian. The schismatic Emperor more ready
  to assist in proving the innocence of a Cardinal than Rome!!! Whatever
  has been printed and published respecting Alberoni I have procured,
  and the letters mentioned by your Lordship were the documents which
  led me first to suppose him innocent and calumniated, a supposition
  which further researches have amply confirmed.

  I sincerely wish Cardinal Wiseman had remained at Rome, not so much on
  account of the assistance which, I do not doubt, his Eminence would
  have lent me in the Alberoni affair, as, on account of the irreparable
  mischief that his coming back to England has produced....”

The reader need hardly to be reminded that the last sentence refers to
the celebrated “Papal aggression” of 1851. Panizzi’s answer to Lord
Shrewsbury’s curious laudation of the Government of Naples is direct and
incisive:—

  “I am grieved, my Lord, more than I can express, at the praises your
  Lordship bestows on the Government of his Sicilian Majesty. I am
  grieved, because the countenance of such a Government by so high an
  authority as your Lordship’s encourages tyranny and despotism, to
  which two abominations all the miseries of mankind are to be
  attributed. I say _all_ advisedly; for all the follies, the
  wickedness, the crimes of the extreme Republicans, whom I detest as
  cordially as the Neapolitan Government can do, are _all_ owing to the
  detestable Governments under which people live, and by which they are
  driven to madness. Nations are, to a very great extent (I am almost
  inclined to say altogether) what their spiritual and temporal rulers
  make them; and in the same manner that we attribute much of the
  unfortunate state of Ireland to the English misgovernment of old, we
  must be just and attribute the miseries of Sicily, her
  dissatisfaction, her rebellious spirit, her crimes, and her cruelties
  to misgovernment. It is misgovernment that makes repealers,
  socialists, red republicans, &c. I wish I could say that things have
  improved of late in the Neapolitan Government; but, my Lord, Europe
  has heard with horror of the iniquitous, cruel, and worse than
  heathenish trials and condemnations that have lately taken place
  against men whose innocence is as well known and clear as daylight. I
  should not speak so positively were it not that Mr. Gladstone, the
  member for the Oxford University, whose talents, whose honesty, and
  whose sober political principles need no praise, has just come from
  Naples in such a state of indignation against the Government as I
  should never have expected to see in such a man. He has made it his
  business to enquire into the truth of the charges, into the proofs
  brought forward to support them, into the character of the accusers,
  witnesses, and judges, into the conduct of the Government, into the
  treatment of the accused, both before and after condemnation, and he
  has come to the conclusion, which he has expressed to me and to others
  in these precise words, deliberately weighed and then repeated, _the
  Government of Naples is the Government of Hell upon earth_. These
  expressions from an English gentleman, uttered in English, with the
  accent of deep religious conviction, need no comment. Mr. Gladstone
  has shown me documents in support of his conviction, and they bear him
  out most abundantly. As a strong Conservative, and because he is a
  Conservative, as a Christian and as a gentleman, Mr. Gladstone (I use
  his own words) feels himself bound in conscience to expose iniquities
  which I am horrified in thinking of. He will do so in the House of
  Commons, as far as he can, but the details are so horrible, so
  revolting, so indecent that he will not be able to tell before an
  assembly of gentlemen the whole truth. But what he will and can say
  will produce the proper effect in Europe, not on Republicans only, but
  on statesmen of Conservative principles, who feel these principles
  disgraced and compromised by such abominations. No Government can be
  formed in England, should the present one be forced to make way,
  without Mr. Gladstone, who, in office as out of office, will not spare
  the guilty. Another man of unimpeachable character, of remarkable
  talents, of opposite political principles, Sir William Molesworth,
  fully agrees with Mr. Gladstone, and both say openly that they rejoice
  at the majority of the House of Commons that kept Palmerston in office
  last summer, when they both voted in the minority.

  Your Lordship is at perfect liberty to state all this; neither Mr.
  Gladstone nor Sir William Molesworth shrink from the responsibility of
  their statements; on the contrary, they make them openly and
  unreservedly. I pledge my honour that I do not overstate what they
  say; in fact, it is IMPOSSIBLE to do so. If your Lordship, however,
  has any doubt, just please to write to either or both of them, and ask
  if I exaggerate.

  And now, my Lord, allow me for the sake of humanity, whose cause I
  know no one has more at heart than your Lordship, for the sake of good
  government and religion, allow me to beseech you heartily to refrain
  from praising a government like that of Naples, or rather let me
  entreat your Lordship to use the powerful influence you must possess
  to open the eyes of the authorities, and induce them, for their own
  sake, for the sake of humanity, to behave like Christians.”

The reply to this contained in the following extract is both in form and
substance a wonderful specimen of logical reasoning. We abstain from
further comment on it and at once insert it, lest we detract from the
enjoyment the reader must derive from its perusal:—

                                           “Palermo, May 21st, 1851.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          I am very thankful for your kind, interesting, though
  melancholy letter of the 24th ult., but which only reached me
  yesterday evening, and as our post goes tomorrow, I have but little
  time to say anything. But the main question you have treated is so
  important and big with all sorts of consequences, that I cannot
  refrain from immediately touching on it. I translated that portion
  relating to Naples, and took it to the Lord Lieutenant, who will
  forthwith send it to Naples, and ask for some official document in
  return. He at once, as I was sure he could with a safe conscience,
  denied the truth of the main charges. That the prisons are in a very
  unsatisfactory state, cannot be denied, and is sadly to be lamented.
  But reforms are almost always tedious and difficult. In what condition
  were the prisons in England some fifty years ago? Yet the King is by
  no means unmindful of them, and the female prisons have been
  thoroughly amended. They are now in the hands of the Jesuits and the
  Sisters of Charity.... But the iniquities of the Judicial system, as
  applied to State prisoners, is the great offence. Now, from what I had
  heard from Sir William Temple myself and from others, and what I hear
  now from the good Prince who rules this island, I am thoroughly
  convinced that Mr. Gladstone has been deceived by false testimony. The
  King’s government is the least vindictive it is possible to conceive;
  before 1848 there was not one State prisoner in Naples, and before the
  Revolution here, there had not been one single capital execution for
  six years. So much the worse you will say, and so say I. It was this
  mistaken leniency that wrought out half of the social mischief.
  Remember the trials are all public, the witnesses are examined in
  public, the proceedings are published in the public papers, and out of
  the thousands who have offended, very few are arrested and tried. The
  proceedings are slow for the purpose of giving, not violating justice,
  ... Sir W. Temple told me all that you have now asserted on the
  authority of Mr. Gladstone and Sir W. Molesworth, and he added that of
  all the liberal side of the late Chamber of Deputies there was not one
  who was not either an exile or a prisoner. I was horrified at the
  statement, and went forthwith to a most respectable English
  _Resident_, who knew Naples well: he immediately said, ‘That is false,
  to my own knowledge, for I am acquainted with several who are neither
  one nor the other.’ But the truth is that Sir W. Temple is mystified,
  and thus mystified others. He and Lord Napier, and all the Consuls,
  and all the travelling Ministers (such as Lord Minto) are, and have
  been ever in the hands of the Revolutionary Party, and are duped by
  them, and I am confident that Mr. Gladstone’s evidence will turn out
  of the same quality. After all, who were the liberals’ deputies?—who
  the men who infuriated the people on the 15th of May, and overturned
  the Constitution? They were Red Republicans, sworn to dethrone the
  Sovereign. Would they have been better treated in Ireland than in
  Naples?... The Revolution here was nothing but a history of atrocious
  crime and atrocious tyranny—regular mob-law exercised by a mob of
  armed banditti. There is no more honourable or humane or upright a man
  than Filangieri, nor a more humane and upright and honourable a Prince
  than his Sovereign; but, as M. Fortunato told Baillie Cochrane, ‘the
  characters of the Sovereign and his servants are sacrificed to the
  calumnies spread abroad in Naples,’ by those who ought to know better.
  No man reverences Liberty more than I do, or sees, and hates the evils
  of despotism; but mob-law is the greatest evil of all, and this, so
  far, has been the only blessing which so-called Constitutional liberty
  has hitherto brought to poor ill-fated Italy....

                               Very truly and sincerely yours,
                                                        SHREWSBURY.”

And, at the risk of exceeding our limits of space, Panizzi’s reply must
be given in full:—

                                    “British Museum, June 4th, 1851.

  “My dear Lord,

          The day before yesterday I had the honour to receive your
  Lordship’s letter of the 21st of last month. I need not add that I am
  very much obliged to your Lordship for it. As your Lordship observes,
  the points now the chief subjects of our correspondence are so very
  important that I hope you will forgive me if I take the liberty of
  freely expressing my opinion when I am so unfortunate as to differ
  from your Lordship; for on such subjects flattery, and even
  over-deference, are a crime. It is the more necessary that I should,
  with due respect, but freely, express my dissent, when requisite, from
  your Lordship’s conclusions, as the opinion of your Lordship, and a
  correct knowledge of the facts on your part may lead to very important
  consequences.

  I need not state it especially and prominently, perhaps, but _ad
  abundantiam_ I wish it to be well understood, that in what I am going
  to say I mean nothing disrespectful towards His Sicilian Majesty, whom
  I supposed to be moved only by a sincere desire of performing the
  duties of his high station as a Christian Prince. I give him,
  therefore, credit for the very best intentions, and I trust I am not
  wrong in supposing that, far from feeling offended with those who,
  like myself, strive to open his eyes to the real state of his
  Government (supposing the opinions and statements of so humble a
  person like myself were to be known to his Majesty), he would feel
  thankful. As to the Prince of Satriano, I cannot figure to myself a
  Filangieri otherwise than humane, high-minded, and a lover of truth
  and justice. It is a name of which an Italian must be proud....

  Your Lordship’s letter refers to three very distinct topics. First,
  the conduct of the Liberals; second, that of the King and his
  Government; third, that of the Courts of Law.

  With respect to the first point, I shall not trouble your Lordship
  with many observations. If it be true that the people had no reason to
  be dissatisfied; if it be true that in Sicily, for instance, they were
  guilty of the atrocities laid at their door; if the chambers of
  representatives were formed out of needy lawyers and brawling
  demagogues, how is it, my Lord, that the Government which has always
  been strong and despotic has not produced better results? Whose fault
  is it that people don’t know when they ought to be satisfied, that
  when they can they are cruel, ferocious, and all that, that needy
  lawyers and demagogues carry the day?...

  I hope, my dear Lord, that a passage in your letter is misunderstood
  by me. Your Lordship seems to think that it was owing to the leniency
  of the Government that the Liberals did all the alleged mischief, and
  that, by shedding of blood, better results would have been obtained.
  If so, I beg to differ entirely from your Lordship. I am not one of
  those squeamish sort of persons who faint at the mention of punishment
  of death, even for political crimes; but assuredly the Neapolitan
  Government has never been accused of weakness on that score. I believe
  there have been more people put to death in the two Sicilies for
  political crimes since the French Revolution in 1789 began than in any
  other country in the world, France excepted. In Spain civil war has
  raged for so many years that it is impossible to draw a comparison.
  But in no part of Germany or of the North, of course not in England,
  nor even in other parts of Italy, has blood been shed more recklessly,
  more cruelly, or more remorselessly than in the kingdom of the two
  Sicilies. And what is the result, I ask once more? Oh, my Lord, that
  blood letting is a terrible and dangerous remedy!... It is a game at
  which two may play, and if Kings are too ready to put to death, they
  may teach republicans the same readiness....

  As to the conduct of the King’s Government, I can only say that, if
  there be no aristocracy in either Sicily or Naples, it is only because
  it has been destroyed by the King’s Government—that it is owing to the
  Government that the French law of succession has been introduced in
  the kingdom of Naples, and then in Sicily, that in those kingdoms the
  scandal has been often seen repeated of the Sovereign swearing to
  statutes and fundamental laws, and then breaking his oath without fear
  of God or man.... This may be kingcraft of some sort, but it is not
  either religion or morality.... I hear it often said, ‘Oh, the people
  are deceived and misled by demagogues, on whom they ought not to place
  confidence.’ Why, on whom are they to place confidence? The poor
  people, when what passes before their eyes shows to them that those
  who govern them hold nothing sacred, and that the more solemn the
  oath, the more explicit the promises, the more earnest the appeals to
  loyalty, the more easy the perjury, the more barefaced the quibbling,
  the more gross the deception of those who relied on oaths, on
  promises, and on fair words?

  After the 15th of May, 1848, a proclamation was published at Naples,
  signed by the King only; weigh well his words as an English gentleman,
  and recollect there are not two principles of morals—one for Kings and
  the other for other persons, or one for England, and one for
  Naples.... Well, then, what has been done, and _with what success_—for
  I am a man of facts, and not of theories—to establish that good
  Government that is to be the forerunner of the Guarantees for it? And
  if the Constitutional system is impossible, why did the King give a
  Constitution?...

  I now come to the third point. Your Lordship tells me that Mr.
  Gladstone has been deceived.... You say distinctly not only that Sir
  W. Temple and Sir W. Molesworth are mistaken and have been deceived,
  but you hold as undoubted that Sicilian liberals, as well as foreign
  Diplomatists and Consuls, and Captains, and Admirals, and Ministers,
  &c., &c., all are either knaves or fools, who either wilfully or
  stupidly misrepresent the truth. Well, if I had no other data to judge
  of the validity of this sweeping exception than that the bulk of the
  persons here mentioned are Englishmen, I should not assent to your
  views. And not only many of them are Englishmen, that is belonging to
  a nation, as a whole, the most veracious on earth, but both English
  and Foreigners are persons of standing, &c.... On what ground is your
  Lordship induced to doubt their trustworthiness? Of your own knowledge
  you cannot know much. You collect your information from persons
  belonging to one side only, &c., &c.... It is not said of all the
  Deputies on the liberal side of the late Chamber “there is not one who
  is not either an exile or a prisoner.” What is said is what follows:
  ‘Of the whole number of deputies (160), only 140 attended when the
  Chamber sat, of these 140 there are 24 in prison and 52 in exile, that
  is to say, more than half.’ Let the names of those 140 who attended be
  looked after, and let the Government say where are 76 of them. If the
  Government do not do so, it may be, my Lord, I shall have the painful
  duty of sending a list to your Lordship myself for the Government’s
  information. And in looking after deputies, I wish you would inquire
  after one who was assassinated, and also ask for a certain Peluso, a
  priest, who enjoys a pension from the Government.... With respect to
  the evidence of Mr. Gladstone individually, I beg to submit the
  following facts. Mr. Gladstone is a political opponent of the
  Ministers, and just before leaving London for Naples last summer,
  voted against Lord Palmerston on the Greek question. He went from here
  as strongly impressed as your Lordship can now be that Lord
  Palmerston’s policy was wrong at Naples, and that Sir W. Temple was
  greatly to blame for calumniating the Neapolitan Government. Such were
  Mr. Gladstone’s feelings on arriving at Naples. To say that he is a
  most scrupulously honourable man as well as one of the most acute
  living Statesmen, is to say what everybody knows. What must be stated
  in addition, as it is important to the point now in discussion, is
  that Mr. Gladstone is a thorough Italian Scholar, and reads as well as
  speaks the language as fluently and correctly as a well educated
  Italian....

  “Now, my Lord, I defy those who tell you that Mr. Gladstone has been
  deceived to show that they have taken one-tenth of the trouble he has
  taken.... And I beg also to add that in Europe a statement of facts by
  Mr. Gladstone, even unsupported, which it is far from being, will
  outweigh the statements of all the judges and other officials of the
  Neapolitan Court. My blood boils to have to call such people _judges_,
  and such a den a Court!... I shall not apologise for the length of
  this letter. It was due to Mr. Gladstone to show that he is not likely
  to have been deceived, and it was due to your Lordship to show that
  you must have been deceived. I hope and trust you will not countenance
  by your praises, or by an extenuation of its faults, a Government
  which is a disgrace to humanity and to Christianity....

                   Believe me, with great respect and truth,
                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

Nothing daunted by such strong and keen weapons of argument, Lord
Shrewsbury returns to the charge with a supply of counter-ammunition in
the shape of a worthless pamphlet, written by one Mr. Macfarlane, and
termed, in unconscious irony, the “Cause of Order.”

                                          “Palermo, June 12th, 1851.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          I send you an interesting little _brochure_, which, I trust,
  will serve to show that Mr. Gladstone has been mystified. Rely upon
  it, the Government of Naples, whatever imperfections it may have (and
  what Government is without them?) is by no means deserving of the
  censures which have been so liberally and so unjustly cast upon it by
  a certain class of writers, and still more, and with far greater
  effect, by a certain class of speakers and talkers.

  Macfarlane’s statements, in his ‘Glance at Revolutionized Italy,’ and
  in his appendix, I am convinced, are by no means too favourable. The
  absurd, ridiculous, superficial, and _notoriously false_ facts and
  figures of Mr. Whiteside will never counteract the solid truth of the
  rival, and more experienced, and far more talented tourist....”

The remainder of this letter is hardly worth quoting. Arguments, or
assertions, are repeated, and there is much discussion on “the havoc,
crime, and plunder” of the “Glorious Revolution,” on the previous
fulness of municipal coffers and general prosperity of the country; on
the progress of all works of commerce and agriculture, the making of new
roads and harbours, the lightness of taxation, &c. There was “no
grievance except old Maio’s slack hand over the demagogues. Had there
been a Satriano or a Pronio there had been no Revolution, nor even a
serious thought of it.”

The statements of the English Blue Books are stigmatised as a mass of
error and bad faith.

The extreme prolixity of Lord Shrewsbury’s letters, and the weariness of
the “damnable iteration” in which they abound, render it difficult, and
indeed unnecessary, to present them in their entirety. In fact, so much
of Panizzi’s portion of the correspondence, as is set out in full, gives
all that is wanted of his opponent’s argument and of the answer to it.
Lord Shrewsbury harps much on Sicily (out of which he comparatively
rarely ventures) in his defence of the Government of King Ferdinand.
Slightly oblivious of the fact that it is despotism that has reduced the
Southern Italians to the state in which he finds them, he decides that
such despotism should be perpetuated as the only form of Government
which suits those it has created. To attempt to improve by absurd and
iniquitous revolution, to interfere with the well-settled and
satisfactory state of things here described by Lord Shrewsbury, and with
the benevolent régime which had so ordered matters, would be
reprehensible in the last degree. Meanwhile nothing can exceed the
contempt with which the writer speaks of the almost too happy people of
this too happily governed Kingdom; prefacing his notice by advising
those who have rashly maligned the King and his Government to come over,
and see and judge for themselves:—

  “Let any one come here and read the official documents, and hear and
  see the lamentable history of a period which will ever be a blot upon
  our national honour and honesty, (for we violated every principle of
  international law,) he will imbibe very different notions of both the
  King and the Government which too many of us have been so unjustly and
  inveterately maligning. The people of these countries are no more fit
  for liberty than cats and dogs. They know not what it is, or how to
  use it, nor are there materials to guarantee its due exercise even if
  they understood it better. Large and free municipal privileges, _such
  as they really have_, with a good Governmental administration, and a
  strong hand to repress crime, is all that they are suited for, and all
  that they ought or do desire.... In the meanwhile, read Macfarlane,
  and sip in wisdom and instruction from his sprightly stream.... _You_
  look to his facts and assertions and the authorities upon which they
  rest, and believe that both you and Mr. Gladstone and Sir W.
  Molesworth have all been mystified, even more so than the readers of
  the Blue Books.”

No apology, we feel sure, is needed for the introduction in this
correspondence of such letters from Mr. Gladstone as reached Panizzi
during its continuance, and bear on the subject matter. A passage in the
following epistle will remind the reader of the contrast between
revolutions in more than one foreign country, and the manner in which
such movements have happily been hitherto dealt with in England:—

                                                   “June 21st, 1851.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          You speak of the scanty justice done here to the cause of
  Italy. No doubt it is true, but something must be allowed for the
  imperfection of all organs contrived by men. Parliament fails,
  sometimes egregiously, in its duty to England. I have often thought it
  impenetrably hardened in injustice when the question has been about
  some acts of our own to Foreign Powers or countries. I am then the
  less surprised that it has little time or thought for Italy, not
  having enough for its own immediate duties, and of course preferring,
  not perhaps without a tinge of selfishness, what lies nearest home. I
  do, however, _most deeply_ grieve over the silence of Parliament about
  the expedition to Rome in 1849. That was a great opportunity and
  should not have been missed. It was missed, out of a misplaced regard
  to democracy, the sham democracy of France.

  I am, however, certain as matter of _fact_ that the Italian habit of
  preaching unity and nationality in preference to showing grievance,
  produces a revulsion here; for if there are two things on earth that
  John Bull hates, they are an abstract proposition or idea and the
  Pope....

                                    Most sincerely yours,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

To speak of Lord Shrewsbury as an honourable, high-minded man—a
gentleman in the strictest sense of the term, who honestly espoused the
worse, inasmuch as he conscientiously believed it to be the better
cause—would be almost offering an insult to his memory. An English Roman
Catholic of the older sort, he was religiously (though perhaps
unconsciously) rather than politically biassed in favour of the peculiar
manner of Government obtaining in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Many
members of that great Church to which he belonged will not hold her
disparaged by the assertion that, in her relations to man, there are two
great points which she chiefly regards. First, that men shall always be
kept in due subjection to the powers that be in both Church and State,
and secondly that they shall, while in that state of subjection, be
rendered by their rulers as comfortable and contented as possible under
the circumstances. A third object, which Christians are apt to look on
as of some little importance—that men should be in mind so developed as
to deem themselves of some account, both as individuals and as members
of the State—she regards but distantly, if at all. Considering Lord
Shrewsbury’s mental constitution, his view of the matters around him is
in no wise surprising; but let the first well-authenticated case of
anything approaching to tyranny and oppression reach his ears, and his
humanity and indignation are at once apparent. Of this he shall be his
own witness. Nor is his feeling of generosity lessened by the fact that,
in protesting against the treatment awarded to the unhappy Poerio by the
best of all possible governments, he accuses the sufferer of political
crimes of the deepest dye, and brings accusations against him, the
falsehood of which the most superficial enquiry would have demonstrated.
Lord Shrewsbury confined himself not to expressions of sympathy only; he
forthwith set himself heartily to bring what personal influence he
possessed to bear towards procuring alleviation of the sufferings of the
hapless criminal:—

                                          “Palermo, June 26th, 1851.

  “It was this day’s post that brought me your favour of the 4th. I
  cannot say how distressed I am at what you tell me of the fate of poor
  Poerio, for however guilty the man may be, his punishment is
  barbarous, inhuman, and unchristian. I cannot doubt what Mr. Gladstone
  saw. I really had no idea that, in these times, old habits and ways of
  thinking in these matters had still prevailed in Naples, to the
  exclusion of those more becoming, polite, and enlightened methods of
  dealing with State criminals. Our worthy Chief Governor is not yet
  returned from his tour, but I hope to see him before our next post
  leaves, and shall not fail to press this point upon him; and too happy
  shall I be to be able to report that the rigors of Poerio’s
  confinement have been already mitigated. Though I know full well that
  no man is more capable of discriminating between truth and falsehood
  than Mr. Gladstone, still I have heard so much of Poerio’s criminality
  as to leave no reasonable doubt upon my mind that, whatever defects
  there may have been in the evidence upon which he was convicted, there
  is no question of his guilt. He was, I think, an exile for his conduct
  in ’30, lived at Paris on terms of intimacy with Mazzini, and there
  published several Revolutionary Pamphlets, in fine, the whole
  Ministry, of which he formed a part, Dragonetti’s, perhaps, excepted,
  were noted and proved Republicans, such as Pepe and Saliceti. How,
  then, can any one doubt their determination to dethrone the King by
  means of the _Constituent_ Assembly into which they were determined to
  transform the new Chamber, in May, ’48? No one at Naples doubted
  it....

                                                         “June 29th.

  “... I have just seen our good Prince. I shall copy those portions of
  your letter relating to Poerio, and will send them to old Fortunato.
  But, fearing they might never reach the King, I will also send them to
  our friend the Marquis del Vasto, who has constant opportunities of
  seeing his Majesty.... Rely upon it, I shall do all I can ... what a
  pity Mr. Gladstone had not himself gone to the King; but now I hope he
  will wait to see if any good comes from this before naming the subject
  in Parliament. The Prince of Satriano says you may make what use you
  will of the enclosed MS.; he wishes it to be known, and would not
  object even to its publication; though, as he is preparing an
  elaborate work in detail, it would perhaps be better only to show it
  privately, certainly to Mr. Gladstone. I have left both open for the
  Prince of Castelcicala....”

In a letter from Mr. Gladstone to Panizzi a fair estimate is given of
Lord Shrewsbury’s letters, and the general line of argument pursued by
him.

                                                    “July 7th, 1851.

  “Lord Shrewsbury’s letter really comes to nothing, so far as the
  issues raised by me are concerned. Meanwhile, the time is nearly
  exhausted, and next week I must absolutely print unless I learn that
  something good has been _done_, which may be an effective premise of
  more. It is an ugly and painful controversy, but I cannot help it....”

To Lord Shrewsbury’s advice contained in his letter of the 12th of June,
asking Panizzi to _come and see, and judge_ for himself, he replied, at
once accepting the invitation:—

                                                   “July 14th, 1851.

  “... Now I am ready. I have _scraped_ together £100 for the purpose. I
  am ready to start on the 1st of September, and to go with your
  Lordship, in your presence and with your concurrence, verify all the
  statements made by Mr. Gladstone. If your Lordship and I find that
  they are unfounded, I shall publish the fact to the world; if they are
  well grounded, I shall respectfully beg of your Lordship to endeavour
  to convince the Neapolitan Government of the injustice of their
  proceedings. It is superfluous to say that this is to be kept between
  your Lordship and myself entirely at present, or else the enquiry
  would be nugatory, and our end, that of discovering the truth, in
  justice to the Government as well as to the victims—defeated. I wish
  nothing but the truth to come out. Let us, therefore, do our best to
  find it out. It is worth the trouble. I can dedicate to this the above
  sum and two months—September and October....”

To this Lord Shrewsbury replied, giving his opinion and advice as to the
most effective way of carrying out the proposed plan, and excusing
himself from personal participation:—

                                                     “July 25, 1851.

  “I think your best plan will be to ask an audience of the King at
  once, and speak to him frankly on the matter. He will, I doubt not,
  listen to you, and give you the facilities you desire; but the
  _object_ of your audience must not be known beforehand, or it may be
  thwarted. I have only _one_ acquaintance at Naples—the Marquis del
  Vasto ... through him I think I could ensure you an audience of the
  King, but neither must know the precise object. I never was presented
  to the King in my life, though he has been extremely kind to us. I
  could not meet you at Naples for several reasons—that it always
  disagrees with me, &c., &c. You might open your audience with the King
  as the bearer of Mr. Gladstone’s statement, which, I should think, he
  would never otherwise see. I hear it has been sent to Naples; but if
  only to the Minister, the King will probably never see it. He listened
  most patiently to Baillie Cochrane, and is, I have good reason to
  believe, most anxious to learn the truth, which others may be as
  anxious to conceal from him.”

The letters of Mr. Gladstone on Panizzi’s proposed journey must be given
here:—

                                                  “August 2nd, 1851.

  “The Prince Castelcicala has sent a letter to Lord Aberdeen; it is not
  much to the purpose, but calls me a detractor and a calumniator. I
  could almost wish I were.”

                                                  “August 5th, 1851.

  “It would indeed be greatly for my interest that you should go to
  Naples; your journey would lighten my responsibility, and afford me
  incomparable means of self-defence against the bold assertions with
  which I expect to be met.

  Yet I can hardly in conscience recommend it to you, without
  conditions—your going would attract notice—your antecedents would be
  learned, and your steps watched. I cannot think you would ever be
  allowed to see the interior aspect of things with the sanction of the
  Government, whatever introductions you might have and whatever
  influence might be used in your favour. Certainly the case would be
  different if Lord Shrewsbury were to be the examining party, and you
  his unobserved, and therefore independent companion, and, I think,
  that in your place I should so put it to Lord Shrewsbury himself.... I
  am reading with some spice of dissatisfaction Petruccelli’s
  ‘Rivoluzione di Napoli.’ It certainly appears from this book that
  there were a party determined that the Constitution should not work.
  But the question always comes back, _how_ such a party ought to be
  encountered.

                                                Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

Lord Shrewsbury’s application, which he duly made on Panizzi’s behalf to
the Marquis del Vasto, unhappily failed of success; the Marquis being
represented by his Lordship as a _good, honest courtier, and will not
meddle_.

Respecting the Gladstone Pamphlet, Lord Shrewsbury wrote:

  “I see that Lord Palmerston has noticed Gladstone’s Pamphlet, in very
  fine and honourable terms; still I hope the 20,000 is a misprint for
  2,000. Is it not so? If not, I am glad the letter has been published,
  and sent to all the Courts; for it is the common cause of humanity and
  good Government, and even touches the honour of all crowned heads. I
  have always thought Lord Palmerston an honest, well-meaning,
  straightforward man—though too quick, credulous, and domineering.... I
  wish Mr. Gladstone all the credit and all the success he deserves.”

It would have been of much importance to Panizzi to obtain the
countenance and influence of Lord Shrewsbury, both for his proposed
interview with the King and during the whole of his visit in Naples; but
his Lordship’s arrangements were incompatible with those which the
traveller was under the necessity of making for his journey. He thus
wrote:—

                                          “B. M., August 25th, 1851.

  “I am firmly of opinion that the King does not know of all the
  iniquities now exposed by Mr. Gladstone, nor the cruelties of the
  prisons, and I start from this as a fact in my plans and dreams.... If
  your Lordship can manage to meet me—which I repeat ought not to be a
  very difficult matter for the Earl of Shrewsbury—we might under
  Providence be instrumental in alleviating an amount of human misery
  unparalleled in the world.... I shall be obliged for an early answer,
  as I am kept in London only by this business, and will take no
  holidays till I hear that I cannot employ the time allowed for them in
  a more useful manner than running from house to house in the country
  here.... Gladstone’s letters have gone through _ten_ editions, and are
  the theme of every conversation. _All_ the press, including that part
  opposed to the Minister and to Gladstone, as, for instance, the
  _Morning Herald_, have all taken Gladstone’s side; and in _The Times_
  of last Friday there was a letter from “our correspondent” from Naples
  supporting Gladstone....”

Panizzi now applied, in view of his long proposed visit, for permission
to enter the Kingdom of Naples, and received the following answer:—

                                               “Foreign Office,
                                                  August 26th, 1851.

  “Sir,

          ... Lord Palmerston apprehends that you have been naturalized
  by Act of Parliament, and, if so, you are fully entitled to be
  considered as a British subject in every country but that of your
  birth, which his Lordship believes was the Duchy of Modena, and as a
  British subject you have a right to British protection in the Kingdom
  of Naples.

                                              I am, &c., &c.,
                                                   H. U. ADDINGTON.”

Early in October Panizzi set forth on his journey.

Previous to his departure, Mr. Gladstone, who, it need hardly be said,
took the deepest interest in his self-imposed mission, supplied him with
the names of men of influence at Naples who were likely to be of the
greatest service to him in attaining the object he had in view; these
were Mr. Fagan and Signor Lacaita mentioned in the subjoined letters:—

                                      “Fasque, September 24th, 1851.

  “... I have just seen yesterday’s _Times_, and it seems the Neapolitan
  _reply_ is ready and printed. I shall trust very much to you to aid me
  with matter for correcting it according to your inquiries in Naples.
  The persons on whose _accuracy_ I am most disposed to rely are Mr.
  Fagan, at the Mission, and Signor Lacaita.... By this day’s post I
  have certain news of Poerio, from one who has seen him within a month;
  he was _in hospital_ and allowed to walk for an hour or two detached
  from any other criminal, and carrying chains on him which my informant
  tells me weigh 20 or 25 pounds....”

Another letter, also from Mr. Gladstone, may be given, written four days
before the last:—

                                                    “September 20th.

  “I return Lord Shrewsbury’s letter. It is, I think, all things
  considered, very honourable to his candour, and I would hope you may
  do good through his means.... I earnestly hope the vindication and
  confutation will fall into your hands while you are _on the spot_.
  _Here_ I shall be almost powerless to deal with the falsified details
  which it will probably produce.... I have had a good deal of
  interesting correspondence about my letters. Not the most pleasant of
  it is a letter from Mons. Guizot, very frank and kind, condemning
  outright my publication, and fully accepting the King of Naples, and
  all about him as a choice of evils. I have replied in terms which I
  hope will likewise be intelligible.

  In Naples be sure to see and converse with Mr. Fagan of the Legation.
  Signor Lacaita, No. 3, Vico Tre Campane, a most excellent man, hunted
  by the Government....”

And October 3rd, 1851:—

  “I most earnestly hope you will see the Neapolitan answer to me while
  you are in Italy, and, if possible, on the spot, for you will have
  facilities there, to verify or expose, such as cannot easily be
  attained.

  The Neapolitan Government have written to ask Lord Palmerston whether
  he sanctioned my publication, to which he has replied by referring to
  my statement that I was alone responsible....

                                                Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

We shall, in our next chapter, follow Panizzi on his important mission,
and give an abstract, as faithful and accurate as possible, of his
doings whilst at Naples.

To the many who followed the course and knew the issue of the exertions
then made, even this may appear unnecessary; but unless the name of the
chief actor is to be passed over in the annals of humanity, our
imperfect record will not be useless.

[Illustration]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]



                             CHAPTER XVIII

_Death of Panizzi’s Sister; At Rome; Naples; Mr George Fagan; Interview
    with Ferdinand II; Spies; The Vicaria._


Panizzi being, as Lord Palmerston stated, a British subject, would have
been perfectly safe anywhere on European soil, saving that portion of it
occupied by the diminutive but to him important State of Modena, yet
with such extensive range he found it impossible to suppress a patriotic
yearning for his native town, and determined to visit it on his way
southwards. The reader must now bear in mind that we have, in order to
avoid confusion, gone back to the year 1851; whereas, in a former
chapter, treating of the British Museum and other matters, Panizzi has
been described as being at Brescello in 1857.

The fact that Francis V. in 1848, had granted an amnesty to all
political offenders, encouraged Panizzi in his resolve. But to be
perfectly certain before proceeding he applied to the proper authorities
to know if his name was mentioned in this Act of Amnesty, lest it might
perchance have been excluded. To this application the answer was in the
affirmative, but it was penned, not, as in common courtesy it should
have been, by the Minister himself, but by his secretary.

This example of official disrespect filled the recipient with “righteous
indignation,” and he wrote (18th of August, 1851) to a near relative of
his at Modena in these words:—“His Excellency!!! does not condescend to
write himself; perhaps he has more to do than Lord Russell or Lord
Palmerston, both of whom always find time to write to me on the very
same day.” Thus, notwithstanding all the assurances of the Modenese
Government he continued his journey, not caring even to pass through his
native country, if he were likely to incur the risk of becoming an
object of displeasure and suspicion; conscious, too, that either he
himself or the authorities must have very much changed if he were not
so.

On reaching Genoa he received news of a sad loss that had befallen him
in the death of his sister; and how deeply he was affected by the
intelligence may be gleaned from the annexed letter:—

                                          “Rome, 28th October, 1851.

  “My dear Haywood,

          I have not had the courage even to write to you, owing to the
  great distress of mind that I have been suffering under since I
  arrived at Genoa, where I found letters informing me incidentally, and
  supposing I was aware of it, of the death of my sister, whom I hoped
  to see a few days after the letters themselves reached me. The news of
  her death was addressed to London, and has reached it since I left. I
  felt strongly inclined to give up my journey, and return to England at
  once. I could not, however, do so, for reasons I need not trouble you
  with, and so here I am, very melancholy, and not enjoying this most
  wonderful place as I otherwise should. I arrived here the night before
  last, and have, of course, seen little; but I have seen St. Peter’s,
  and what more could I have seen, or can I hope to see one tenth as
  magnificent? Lord Shrewsbury is here, and had made arrangements to
  present me to the Pope before I arrived....

                                          Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

At Rome, Dr. Minzi, who was engaged in ascertaining the origin, and
devising the remedy for the fever then prevailing there, encountered his
friend Panizzi. The latter, during his stay, was perpetually beset by
spies. On leaving, he took the precaution of engaging the company of
Minzi, and to him he imparted the following directions:—That, were he
carried off at the frontier by police agents, he (Minzi) was to write
three letters—one to Sir William Temple, at Naples; a second to Lord
Holland, also at Naples; and a third to Lord Shrewsbury. As a matter of
fact, he was stopped at the Neapolitan frontier; but, after careful
examination of the passport, and much unnecessary delay, was allowed to
cross. His name, however, appeared in the so-called _Libro Nero_.

On his arrival at Naples he proceeded to Lord Holland’s house, at the
Palazzo Roccella, where he remained during his sojourn in the place; he
now brought all his energies to bear on the acquisition of every
possible scrap of information which might further him in his mission.
Before long he received help, and this was from Mr. Fagan,[B] who,
having been Attaché at Naples since June, 1837, was, indeed, the only
person who was able to assist Panizzi. The help received from him was in
the shape of a letter of introduction to the Signora Parilli, which must
be allowed to tell its own story:—

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          I send you word, through a friend of mine that the Signora
  Parilli expects you to-morrow morning. She does not know who you are,
  but introduce yourself as the “friend of Fagan.” An aunt of Poerio is
  a nun, and knows all about him.

                                       Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                      GEORGE FAGAN.”

Shortly afterwards, Panizzi’s interview with Ferdinand II. took place,
on which occasion he was accompanied by Mr. Fagan. The day fixed was a
Sunday, the hour twelve at noon. At ten minutes to twelve they arrived
at the palace, “We are before our time,” said Panizzi, “Now the first
question the King will ask, will be “Have you been to Church?” So they
at once hastened into the Church opposite (San Francesco di Paolo), and
remaining but a couple of minutes, came forth prepared to stand before
the King and answer, with clear consciences, this expected question,
which in fact was the first the King put to them.

It was quite clear that His Majesty was fully aware, through information
obtained from spies, of all Panizzi’s movements. He received him,
however, with the greatest courtesy, and almost before he himself had
uttered a word, allowed him to talk on the subject of Poerio and
Settembrini, and the prisons of Naples. On this theme Panizzi descanted
uninterruptedly for full twenty minutes, when the King rose closing the
interview with the remarkable words: _Addio, terribile Panizzi._

During his stay at Lord Holland’s, the Neapolitan Government, in order
that he should take his walks abroad with greater safety, kindly
furnished him with constant attendance, in the shape of a pair of trusty
followers or spies. It is painful to relate that Panizzi treated their
delicate and unobtrusive attention with extremely bad taste, not to say
ingratitude. He was never weary of playing tricks on his faithful
attendants, of mischievously imposing on them; ably supported in this
evil practice by his friend, and notably by Mr. Fagan, he made them
deviate from the path in which it was their combined duty and pleasure
to walk. Panizzi and his companions would get in and out of cabs, in the
manner of a late well-known actor, though not with the intention of
bilking the cab-driver. On one occasion, in trying to walk down their
pursuers, they became involved in a cul-de-sac, and turning to come out,
met their suite face to face. Pursuers and pursued burst into a hearty
reciprocal laugh, the latter passed on, and the former fell to their
place in the rear, and continued the chase.

Panizzi himself even allowed others to personate him. For example, in
one instance he gave out, for the information of his retinue, that he
was going on a shooting excursion in the neighbourhood of Naples. The
person really bent on this errand was Lord Holland’s physician, Dr.
Chepmell, who, in the character of Panizzi, was duly followed about the
whole day. Let us hope that these honest members of the Police
witnessed, though they had little chance of enjoying, a good day’s
sport.

Like all truly great men, and in particular Henry the Great, of France
and Navarre, Panizzi, when in the company of his friends, was devoid of
all feeling of unofficial personal dignity, and delighted, when not
seriously engaged, in little diversions as free, if not as innocent and
touching, as those indulged in by that great monarch.

On one occasion—he was by nature so physically sensitive as (to use a
common phrase) to be excessively ticklish—Dr. Chepmell, and another
intimate friend, Signor Carafa, had got him on the floor and were
subjecting him to the titillating operation. They were rolling him in
the fire-place—his face was black with charcoal, his clothes white with
ashes—when suddenly a servant announced the Duca di X.... who had come
to pay his respects to the “Great Pan.” All the astounded Duke could do
was to stand in the middle of the room and gaze, speechless, hat in
hand, on the unexpected and inexplicable spectacle.

Meantime, leave had been obtained for Panizzi to visit the famous
_Vicaria_. Of this he received information from Lord Feilding, who was
to accompany him over the prison:—

                                               “November 18th, 1851.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Will you hold yourself in readiness to accompany me over the
  ‘Vicaria’ to-morrow, in case it can be managed to obtain permission?

                             Yours, &c., &c.,             FEILDING.”

                                                     “November 19th.

  “All is arranged for to-day.

                                                          FEILDING.”

Before visiting the “Vicaria,” he was careful to draw up a most
elaborate précis of all the questions to be asked of officials, all
portions of the prison worthy of note, and all such points of
information as should render his inspection as thorough as possible.

To give, in our own words, an account of this visit would be too long
for these pages, but Panizzi, on the following day that he inspected the
prison, wrote down a few brief observations, in conjunction with Lord
Feilding (November 20th, 1851):—

“The general impression on our minds was most unfavourable. The mixing
together of criminals of every description (homicides excepted) without
distinction, the total want of occupation for the prisoners, with the
exception of about thirty shoemakers who worked in two cells apart, and
the fact that prisoners before trial and prisoners after trial are
huddled indiscriminately together, are facts which speak for themselves,
as to the total unfitness of the Neapolitan prison discipline for the
reformation of the offender. A criminal, when he has undergone his term
of imprisonment here, must come out infinitely more savage and
demoralized than when he went in. Humanity, policy, and religion call
loudly for a reform in these sinks of horror.”

The following is Panizzi’s report:—“Yesterday, Wednesday, the 19th of
November, 1851, I accompanied Lord Feilding to see the prisons of the
“Vicaria.” We got permission through Father Costa, a Jesuit, who came
with us, with another father whose name I never heard; the Chief Gaoler
and the Inspector of the Police went with us through the gaol. We
entered it at a quarter past two o’clock, and left it at three minutes
past four by my watch.

“Near the stairs by which we entered there are prisons looking into the
quadrangle of the “Vicaria.” As two of the judges, as we were told they
were, came downstairs to get into their carriage, the shutters of the
prison nearest the bottom of the stairs were closed, and opened
immediately after the carriage had driven off.

“Having got upstairs, we entered a small room in which a person sat
keeping some register or other, and were immediately ushered into a
smaller room, where an inspector sat. On the table we found three
different sorts of bread—_i.e._, common bread, bread for the sick, and
bread which is given to the prisoners in the evening. The whole of this
bread was good of its kind; the only objection to the evening bread
might be its being heavy.

“We entered the first _Camerone dei Nobili_, which has only one window
at the end of it. It is a long, vaulted, low room, very dull, and the
atmosphere of which I should call very bad, had we not experienced
worse. Off this room, on the left, are six smaller rooms, communicating
with the Camerone by doors, some of them closing with railings, and
others with oak shutters. In these rooms are kept such prisoners as can
afford to pay for better accommodation—that is a small bed, instead of
the common beds of the “Camerone.” The air of these rooms was better,
because, by leaving the windows open, a thorough draft was created
through them. But the air was cold and damp; there was no means of
excluding the air and cold. Except in one or two of these rooms there
was a _paper_ window instead of glass; in the other there was nothing.
So that you must either have the cold from without, or close the
enormous oak shutters, and exclude both air and light, not only from
each of these rooms themselves, but from the Camerone, which, to a
certain extent, receives both, particularly air, from them. The
atmosphere at night, when all those windows are closed, must be
intolerable; and I am firmly persuaded that, were it not that the
shutters are opened to try the soundness of the double row of iron bars
by which each window is secured, the inmates would be smothered. These
bars are tried five times during the night. Of course, every time this
operation takes place, the inmates are roused from their sleep or
slumber, and whilst the shutters are open a chilling draft must be
created.

“In the Camerone sleep 120 persons.

“We saw no _kitchen_ or _infirmary_, both being removed to San
Francesco; but in the room which was the infirmary, and which is better
than the others, we saw a poor fellow lying down asleep, but he seemed
to me very ill, and looked like a dead person.”

Of this celebrated prison the writer of these “memoirs” is enabled, from
personal observation and knowledge, to give some account.

The _Vicaria_, or Castel Capuano, was originally situated outside, but
is now enclosed within the city of Naples. The first building was
erected by William, the Norman, for a Royal Palace, and surrounded by
fortifications. Here the Kings of Naples successively resided, until
Ferdinand of Arragon demolished the fortifications, thereby rendering it
useless as a stronghold.

In the year 1540 the Viceroy, Pedro de Toledo, rebuilt it in its present
form, and gave it the name of “Vicaria.” The magnificent chambers
(stained with many a crime) were converted into Law Courts, the smaller
rooms were utilized as dungeons. For 310 years it remained a so-called
“Palazzo di Giustizia.” Of the peculiar species of Justice and Law
administered it is hardly necessary to speak, except perhaps to call
them by their proper names of cruelty, chicanery, and oppression. Nor is
it surprising that during these centuries, ecclesiastical and civil
tyranny should have had equal sway within the walls of the “Vicaria.”

In 1848 this vast and gloomy edifice, which stands at the end of the
Strada dei Tribunali, bore, carved in stone, in bold relief, over its
one heavily barred entrance, that badge of Italian servitude, the
Austrian double headed eagle. Near the dungeons were stationed Swiss
guards. Inside the gate, and arranged around a circular court-yard, were
the houses inhabited by the guardians of the courts, and, in addition to
these, the residence of the executioner, whose implements, the scaffold
and gallows, and all their appurtenances were displayed outside. Three
broad staircases led respectively to the Civil and Criminal Courts and
to the cells. As regards these, one door afforded access to the prison
reserved for nobility, another to that set apart for the lower orders.
Over the last was a picture of the Virgin and Child.

With the _Vicaria Vecchia_ had disappeared many a secret chamber and
loathsome living tomb, the remains of Spanish barbarity. According to
Celano, 4,000 human beings were at one time immured in these dens, but
in the building as it now stands there would not be room for more than
1,500.

Many famous productions have cheered the solitude of these sombre walls.
In one of these cells Antonio Sella wrote his first essay on political
economy; in another Mattia Prete, the famous Calabrese painter,
1613-1699, was a prisoner and condemned to death. Him, however, the
Viceroy reprieved in these graceful words: _Vita excellens in arte non
debet mori._

Even so late as 1859 the present writer has himself seen the eleven wire
cages, swinging between the windows of the buildings, each containing
human heads.

The horrors of the _Vicaria_ have been fully dwelt upon here and
elsewhere; but we may mention that, on the 22nd of November, Panizzi
paid a second visit to the prison with the view of more fully examining
certain matters which had either been omitted or superficially surveyed
during his first inspection. We forbear, however, from entering further
into the horrible details connected with the place, which deserved no
better appellation than the one given to it by Mr. Gladstone—a very
_hell upon earth_.

In December Panizzi took his departure for England. He was accompanied
to the last by his never failing followers, the spies, who had come to
do him the final kind office of seeing him on board. Signor Lacaita, who
was also present to bid him adieu, took the liberty of asking them what
they wanted and whom they were watching? _Quel pezzo grosso_ (that big
fellow), replied they, “and to see that he is safely off.”

In conclusion, an extract from a letter of Lord Shrewsbury’s, after
Panizzi’s return, may possibly be read with interest:—

                                      “Palermo, December 28th, 1851.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          ... What a blessed thing it is that the _Coup d’Etat_ answered
  so beautifully, and did not place you in the dilemma of either making
  an immense detour, or of journeying in the midst of those robbers and
  assassins, the Socialists and _Rouges_ Republicans. One sees _now_ why
  it was that Kossuth was so anxious to return in the Spring, and what
  sort of connection our friend Palmerston has made in his chivalrous
  efforts _in endeavouring to promote the cause of national freedom in
  those nations that stood in need of it_! Lamartine did not use a more
  revolutionary phraseology in his first address to the French Republic,
  when he announced that the Treaties of 1815 had ceased to exist, and
  that France “proclaimed herself the intellectual and cordial ally of
  every right, of every progress, of every legitimate developement of
  the institutions of nations _which wish to live on the same principle
  as herself_.”

  Verily those two letters of Esterhazy and Battyani came most
  seasonably to blow out the Kossuth Bubble, and scatter it to the
  winds, shewing what an empty notion it was that Kossuth was working
  for the regeneration of Hungary! I never questioned the honesty or
  patriotic intentions of our illustrious Foreign Secretary, or that he
  ever fancied he was not pursuing the best and wisest policy. But it is
  now clear that he and Lamartine are men of the same school, and that
  _their_ principles, when attempted to be carried into action under
  untoward circumstances, and at unseasonable times, will end in
  disappointment to those who profess them, and in infinite mischief to
  those in whose favour they are evoked. To no country will this apply
  more aptly than to that beauteous region from which you are just
  returned. Her hour is not yet come. She is wholly unfit for the change
  from Absolute to Constitutional liberty. She has no materials within
  herself for the new edifice. The Law of 19 in Sicily, and the Code
  Napoléon in her Continental States, have so utterly deranged the
  mechanism of her old feudal construction, and uprooted the foundations
  on which any solid structure could be raised, that it is as clear as
  it is in France that Socialism and Red Republicanism would turn up
  instead of a Limited Monarchy the moment you had set the elements at
  work. Nor had Louis Napoléon a better cause to shew for dissolving the
  National Assembly than had Ferdinand for sending _his_ Chamber to
  their homes, and stopping them in the same wild and unprincipled
  career. One can only, therefore, _now_ legitimately work for her
  social, not for her political regeneration. Municipal privileges are
  the only liberties, a good administration of the Law is the only phase
  of which she is susceptible. Any efforts you may make in these
  directions may tend to good, and if you and Palmerston will steadily
  pursue that object _only, and by means suitable to their end_, you may
  effect much for the happiness of the people, as well as for the
  security of the Throne.

                                             Very truly yours, &c.,
                                                        SHREWSBURY.”

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XIX

_Legion of Honour; Ecclesiastical Titles Bill; Serjeant Shee’s Bill;
    Concordat of 1855._


It was remarked of Panizzi, when in Italy as a proof of his general
unobtrusiveness and lack of desire for distinction, that his visiting
card bore only the simple inscription ‘Mr. Panizzi.’ As in early years
his soul had been vexed by the mild constitutionalism of Parma and
Modena, so in riper age he showed himself perversely antagonistic, not
only to the sway of the King of Naples, but to every Government of
Europe which bore in his eyes the slightest tinge of that especial
object of his hatred—absolutism. Yet there were some, and amongst them
one which would hardly have been accepted by Panizzi as the most
disinterested supporter of liberty, that deemed this would-be liberator
of the oppressed, this ex-Carbonaro, this revolutionary firebrand,
worthy of notice, and even of some outward and visible sign of
distinction and esteem. It was a real shock to his modesty when he was
presented with the cross of the Legion of Honour by the President of the
French Republic.

Letters to Lord Rutherfurd and to Mr. Haywood, which are subjoined,
clearly show how surprised Panizzi was at this unexpected honour:—

                                           “British Museum, Tuesday.

  “My dear Rutherfurd,

          ... I am in good health and happy, but for one thing that
  happened to me at Paris, where I dined at the President’s last
  Saturday, and who suddenly presented me with the Cross of Officer of
  the Legion of Honour! This makes me miserable. Keep this to yourself.
  At Naples things are worse than described by Mr. Gladstone.

                                       Yours, &c., &c., A. PANIZZI.”

                                -------

  “My dear Haywood,

          I arrived here last evening in perfect health, and very happy
  to be back again. I dined on Saturday at the President’s at Paris, who
  (I must tell you how annoyed I am at it—it makes me miserable)
  suddenly presented me with the Cross of Officer of the Legion of
  Honour! Of course I could not say no, but hope to be forbidden
  accepting it. Meanwhile it makes me unhappy.

                                       Yours, &c., &c., A. PANIZZI.”

A second decoration, the Royal order of “Saint Maurice and Lazarus” of
Sardinia, was presented to him a few years later, in December, 1855, in
which year Victor Emmanuel visited London with Cavour. Of this last
honour, considering by whom it was conferred, Panizzi may possibly have
been prouder than of his first, but, with innate modesty, he forbore to
ask the requisite permission to accept either, and preferred to remain
almost to the end of an honourable life undecorated;—despising medals,
orders, and unreal designations which, he well knew, could not add to
his reputation.

In the year 1851, shortly after his return to England, there landed on
these shores the bugbear of Popery in its most appalling form, which
scared the natives of the island into a state of mind bordering on
temporary imbecility. Those who remember the Papal Aggression[C] will
also, with shame, remember the foolish fanaticism that burst forth in
every quarter, the undignified terror of many who should have known
better than to put so little confidence in their own cause, and the
extravagant and senseless rumours with which the air was filled. To this
unseemly panic Lord John Russell’s notorious _Durham Letter_ materially
contributed; but although there was no ground for alarm, there was, it
cannot be denied, abundance of room for indignation. Many men of the
most tried judgment and unquestionable moderation (albeit their voices
were well nigh drowned in the general clamour), who treated the
abrogation of the ancient sees by the Pope, and all other his _bruta
fulmina_ with the contempt they deserved, were, nevertheless, not
disposed to sit down calmly under an insult to the Church and people of
England, aggravated by the studied offensiveness with which it was
offered. Such as these were the last, however, to see the necessity for,
and did their best to oppose, the construction of such a steam-engine to
crack a cockchafer as the notorious “Ecclesiastical Titles Bill.”
Happily, this clumsy machine has been rarely, if ever, set in motion,
and after some years of useless existence has, as all know, been finally
broken up. It was impossible that Panizzi, as a moderate Roman Catholic,
should have joined in the general outburst, or lent himself to swell the
ranks of the crew around him. But he had been brought up in a country
where the power of the priesthood has something of reality, and wherein
the behests of the Pope are of a little more importance than they ever
have been, or ever will be, in this realm. He was thoroughly imbued with
that dislike and horror of clericalism which those of the Latin branch
of the Church, when once they have broken free, yea, but a little, from
the more rigorous bonds of their religion, seldom fail to show. It would
be hard, then, to judge Panizzi severely, if he seems to have shared the
alarm prevalent at the time, and to have betrayed some dread of the
consequences of the Pope’s invasion of England. Let it be remembered,
too, that he was an Italian before he was an Englishman; and that
nothing could more effectually have roused his ire, than the insensate
conduct of Pius IX., “the most foolish man,” as some one has well said
of him, “that ever sat in the Papal chair.”

With this apology for any seeming weakness, or extravagance, in
Panizzi’s judgment of the _Papal Aggression_, the following letter on
the subject is laid before the reader:—

                                      “British Museum,
                                                February 18th, 1851.

  “My dear Haywood,

          I have written Kings and Popes, and I don’t see why what is
  there said does not apply to England. You say it is a Protestant
  country. The United Kingdom was Protestant before 1829, but I don’t
  see now how you can say it is Protestant. As to the Church of England,
  I am not sure that in point of numbers it exceeds much the Catholics,
  and as the latter are eligible to all offices and places, with one or
  two exceptions, as well as Protestants, I cannot understand why the
  events which have happened in other countries are not considered a
  precedent here. Suppose you had a Catholic Minister here—or, indeed,
  suppose a Catholic Peer or Member of Parliament was to be treated as
  Santa Rosa was in Piedmont, would not that be interfering in temporal
  affairs? And why should not, in the time and when the opportunity
  offer, an English Catholic be treated as the Piedmontese was for his
  conduct in political affairs. Of course, neither you nor I mind being
  refused the Sacrament or a burial in a consecrated place; but is it
  nothing that the family of a man who is himself indifferent to it
  should be harassed or distressed in this way? Is not the conduct of
  the Bishops at Thurles a serious interference with the power of the
  State? You seem to me to be of Roebuck’s opinion that nothing should
  be done, which astonishes me in a man of practical sense as you are.
  Show me a country where the interference of the Popes has not had to
  be checked, except the United States of America, and I do not suppose
  you are prepared, like Roebuck, to take all the consequences of such
  an exceptional precedent. Moreover, show me a country where the Pope
  has dared, of his own accord alone, to upset the old diocesan
  partition, and establish a new one, and appoint at once thirteen
  Bishops. The agitation shown at this moment is proof enough that the
  Pope and his supporters have an enormous power in this country.

  Is England to depend on the _bon plaisir_ of the Pope whether he will
  use or abuse that power? Do you think the Pope has acted against the
  wish of Austria and France in this business? Do you not see Austria
  giving up all the old principles of the Emperors to the Pope, in order
  to propitiate the support of the Church of Rome? Do you not see
  Montalembert supporting the French President who reinstated the Pope?
  Do you not see a war preparing against the Protestant cantons in
  Switzerland? Do you think that the conduct of the Pope against the
  King of Sardinia is wholly from religious motives? Did Wiseman come
  back from Rome by Vienna as the most direct way? I told you before the
  Catholic Emancipation that you would regret your trusting the priests,
  and you laughed then; that you should laugh now is astonishing. Depend
  upon it, you will find that the storm will not soon be over, and that
  your philosophers will learn at their own _dear_ cost what the Papal
  Power is.

  It is not such milk and water measures that will stop the torrent as
  those contemplated. England must prepare for a struggle of greater
  moment and importance than any in which she has been hitherto
  embarked. Keep this well in mind; it will not be over either in your
  time or mine.

                                             Yours ever,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

Probably, Panizzi, before the day of his death, learnt to understand why
the events in other countries should not be considered a precedent in
this, and how the case of Santa Rosa would be hardly likely to occur in
the British Parliament. His underestimate in this letter of the
numerical superiority of the Anglican body to the Roman Catholics in
England is manifestly due to his mixing up the three kingdoms together;
a confusion especially misleading in any consideration of the Papal
Aggression, inasmuch as that movement was not extended to Scotland
(where, however, it has a short time since been carried out peaceably
and quietly enough), and in Ireland the titles of the Romish prelates
have been always the same with those borne by their rivals of what may
be called, without offence, the Colonial Church.

More interesting, perhaps, than this letter, is another document put
forth by Panizzi on the same matter; its length, we regret, must prevent
us from offering it to our readers; however, he recommends a curious if
not altogether original prophylactic against ecclesiastical invasion
from abroad. His remarks on the foreign character assumed by an
Englishman who takes Roman orders, and of the allegiance (it can hardly
be called divided) by which he thereby becomes bound are remarkable. The
remedy which he proposes for ecclesiastical defection from patriotism
would be, if carried thoroughly into effect, a little too drastic; and,
if used short of thoroughly, might work a little more to the
disadvantage of those who applied it than of those on whom it should be
inflicted.

It has been thought best, at the risk of interrupting the proper
sequence in order of time of this history, to continue and finish in
this place the account of Panizzi’s connection with and views on the
Ecclesiastical questions which sprang up at home and abroad in his time.
For this purpose a few years must be skipped, and the reader referred to
the year 1854. Perhaps some apology should be offered for the
introduction here of a correspondence in that year on Serjeant
(afterwards Justice) Shee’s Bill on the Temporalities of the Irish
Church, inasmuch as that Bill obtained but little notoriety at the time,
and the Serjeant’s proposed reforms were never carried into effect by
legislation. But the following letters bear witness to the variety of
questions on which Panizzi was habitually consulted, and the frequency
with which his opinions were sought by his friends and acquaintances,
and it may be interesting to some to know what judgment he may have
formed upon a point relating to the much vexed question of Irish Church
property, a question which even yet remains to be thoroughly solved.
Moreover, to those who knew Justice Shee, the tone of the letter first
quoted may serve to recall the unaffected modesty and simplicity which
distinguished the character of him who may truly be called one of the
best of men:—

                                    “Serjeants’ Inn, May 31st, 1854.

  “Dear Mr. Panizzi,

          Our conversation yesterday made me think that I might be, what
  I have always wished to be, useful in mitigating the evils which we
  regretted.

  I have on the Order Book a Notice of a Motion for leave to bring in ‘A
  Bill to alter and amend the laws relating to the Temporalities of the
  Irish Church, and to increase the means of religious instruction and
  Church accommodation for Her Majesty’s subjects in Ireland.’

  If I had not good grounds for knowing that it would give satisfaction
  to those whose just discontent at the existing state of things in
  Ireland is a material element in the weakness and the difficulty of
  all liberal Government, I would not propose it.

  But I believe it would not only be acceptable to the Irish Catholic
  Church and people, but a durable and easily defensible, because a just
  and reasonable, settlement.

  My notion of doing good with it is—by influencing public opinion in
  its favour—and my object would be in a great degree gained if, after a
  temperate explanation of my Bill from me, the Government would allow
  it to be read a first time as a thing not unworthy of consideration.

  Will you oblige me by reading it?

  And if you think it is of a nature to induce any friend of yours to
  change his opinion as to the unreasonableness of parties and persons
  on the question, you are quite at liberty to communicate it to him.

                                Believe me, faithfully yours,
                                                      WILLIAM SHEE.”

To this Panizzi answered thus:—

                                           “British Museum,
                                                     June 1st, 1854.

  “My dear Sir,

          I have read with the utmost attention the draft of Bill which
  accompanied your letter of yesterday. The subject is as important as
  it is difficult, and it is with the utmost diffidence that I venture
  to express an opinion on the practicability of your suggestions. I am
  afraid that any equitable proposal like yours would be resolutely
  resisted by the Church of England, not so much for what you propose
  doing now, but for the sake of the precedent you would establish. On
  the other hand, that section of the Catholics which is the most
  violent and noisy, and, therefore, I fear, the most influential in
  Ireland, would not be satisfied with the arrangement you propose, but
  would look upon it as the thin edge of the wedge, and an instalment
  only of what they think due to them.

  I am afraid that the question of the Temporalities of the Church of
  Ireland is of such a nature that no moderate man can hope to settle it
  to the satisfaction of both parties, so long as either possesses any
  thing. The only way of settling it would be to take every farthing of
  property from them all, and paying them all alike; but this is what
  can never be done without a revolution.

  There is a friend of mine to whom I should like to show your draft of
  Bill, and beg, therefore, to keep it two or three days for the
  purpose.

  In the present state of public affairs, even if the Government were
  disposed to entertain the principle of your Bill (and this is
  supposing a great deal), I am afraid the Ministers will not consent to
  its being introduced during this session. Of this, however, I am even
  a worse judge than of the rest.

                                             Believe me, &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

Lord John Russell’s opinion of the Bill was expressed no less decidedly,
though a little more curtly than Panizzi’s:—

                                                   “June 10th, 1854.

  “I think, as you do, that the Serjeant’s Bill would have no chance in
  Parliament.

                                                  Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        J. RUSSELL.”

On the 18th of August, 1855, a Concordat between the Courts of Austria
and Rome was signed. This compact, by which a great deal of the liberty
of the Austrian Church was given up to the Papacy, caused much
dissatisfaction. In 1868, it was virtually abolished by the Legislatures
of Austria and Hungary. To none was it more distasteful than to Panizzi,
in whom, as will have been already seen, there was a wholesome dread of
the Roman Church (a dread not altogether unreasonable, when certain
countries and Governments had to be taken into account), and this was
strongly expressed in two letters from him to Mr. Gladstone and to Mr.
Haywood respectively. In the last of these, it must be granted that
Panizzi very accurately estimates the opposition likely to be offered by
disunited Sceptics and Freethinkers, void of combativeness and
enthusiasm, to the disciplined forces of the Pope and the Curia.

                                             “B. M., June 1st, 1855.

  “My dear Sir,

          ... First of all, any Government agreeing to a Concordat on
  the ground discussed, the Civil Power is not paramount, but subject to
  the superior power of Rome. When Napoleon became King of Italy, he
  thought it right to ask the approval and confirmation of the sale of
  the Church property, by the Pope. It was at once granted; but when
  afterwards the State was going to dispose of one hundred millions of
  francs more of that property, the Pope protested, and argued that
  Napoleon himself, by asking the Papal sanction for past sales,
  acknowledged that no sale could be lawful without the consent of Rome.

  In the second place, the Court of Rome makes a great distinction
  between a Treaty and a Concordat. The latter she looks upon, properly
  speaking, as a boon granted by the Head of the Church, to any inferior
  Civil Power who humbly sues for the favour.

  I enclose you the first article of one of the most recent acts of this
  kind—the very one, in fact, which the Papal Court complains to have
  been broken by the Sardinian Government, by the Siccardi Law. In the
  third place, the Court of Rome does not consider herself bound to
  observe Concordats on her side.

  First of all the general maxim of the Comitia is alleged, that ‘non
  juramenta sed perjuria potius dicenda sunt quæ contra utilitatem
  Ecclesiasticam attentantur.’

  As the Church is the judge of the _utility_, being the highest power,
  they say, no oath or promise can be binding if against Ecclesiastical
  utility. Next in the matter of Concordats, the doctrine is explicitly
  taught that the Pope has the power to derogate to them.

  I give you extracts from the works of a great Canonist, who states the
  pretensions of Rome to confute them; that, however, is another point:
  the point is what they at Rome affirm.

  Now for the extracts. The first Article of the Convention between
  Gregory XVI. and Charles Albert, dated March 27th, 1841, runs
  thus:—‘Avuto riguardo alle circostanze de’Tempi, alle necessità delle
  private amministrazione della guistizia, ed alla mancanza de’mezzi
  corrispondenti dei Tribunali Vescovili, la Santa Sede non farà,
  difficoltà che i magistrati laici giudichino gli Ecclesiastici per
  tutti i reati che hanno la qualificazione di crimini.’ _Ergo_, the
  Santa Sede ‘può fare difficoltà’ if she chooses, and the Civil power
  by asking to be allowed to try a priest guilty of murder, for
  instance, acknowledges the right of the Holy See: _Ergo, in altre
  circostanze_, that same Santa Sede can make _difficoltà_. You need not
  my saying more. The Canonist who stated the doctrines of Rome on
  Concordat to refute them, is Schmidt (Anton), Professor of Canon Law
  at Heidelberg, in the last century, whose words are as follows:—

  ‘I.—Summum Pontificem Concordatis cum Natione germ, initis, derogare
  posse contendunt præter Authores Pontificios Branden.

  ‘II.—S. Pontifex, ajunt, summus Christi Vicarius, & jure divino habet
  dispensationem, ac plenissimam administrationem omnium bonorum ad
  quascunque Ecclesias pertinentium, consequenter ex plenitudine
  potestatis potest vel in totum, vel pro parte Concordata tollere.

  ‘III.—Concordata ceu Indulta ordinaria in favorem Germanorum admissa
  continent meram gratiam, non tam vim pacti, quàm privilegii, & sicuti
  privilegium revocari potest, ita in libera S. Pontificis remanet
  facultate, an iisdem stare, vel ab eis recedere velit.

  ‘IV.—Licèt coram Puteo dec. 47, dicantur habere vim contractûs,
  intelligendum hoc ex parte Germanorum, quòd vide licet illi non solum
  ex jure divino sint obligati ut Christiani ad parendum Rom. Pontifici,
  sed etiam ex speciali Concordia quasi in vim contractæ pacificationis
  inita, ut in omni judicio Germani sedi Apostolicæ rebelles minus
  forent excusabiles; si obedientiæ suavi jugo excusso, etiam pacta
  firmata violare præsumant, adeoque Concordata dicunt saltem negotium
  ex pacto, & privilegio mixtum.

  ‘V.—Id quod confirmatur etiam ex eo, quod S. Pontifex suam summam, &
  absolutam potestatem, quam a Christo accepit, de rebus Ecclesiæ,
  officiis, & beneficiis Ecclesiasticis disponendi a se abdicare non
  possit, quin semper penes se majorem adhuc retineat.

  ‘VI.—Successores succedunt jure singulari non universali, nempe jure
  Electionis, novo titulo, novo jure, & sic Nicolaus V. non potuit suis
  successoribus taliter legem imponere, quam ipsi de omnimoda
  necessitate tenerentur servare.’

  (Thesaurus Juris Ecclesiastici sive Dissertationes Selectæ, &c., vol.
  1, p. 339). Such doctrines ought to be known. Many Canonists,
  Catholics, have differed from them. I have never heard them condemned
  or disavowed at Rome; on the contrary, taught in the Universities in
  the Papal States.

                                               Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                         A. PANIZZI.

                                -------

                                            “B. M., Nov. 29th, 1855.

  “My dear Haywood,

          And so you are not afraid of the influence of the Church
  because Scepticism and Infidelity prevail? It is because they prevail
  that I fear the Concordat. If the Protestants were animated by
  religious fanaticism, as they were some centuries ago, they would
  resist and prefer martyrdom to submitting to Rome; but Philosophy, and
  Scepticism, and Infidelity, and all that, are all negative qualities.
  They do not give strength and courage.

  Do you think all the Sceptics and Infidels in the world would fight
  like the Waldenses, the Hussites, and the Germans under the King of
  Sweden?

  Moreover, the number of Infidels and Sceptics is limited to the upper
  classes generally. What hold can they have on the ignorant masses, who
  have only in view the gallows in this world and hell in the next?

  There were Infidels and Sceptics enough in Spain and Italy in the
  sixteenth century, and the united tyranny of the temporal and
  spiritual power kept Italy obedient to Rome.

  It was towards the end of the reign of Louis XIV. that the French
  Protestants were obliged to submit.

                                             Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

Having now completed this ecclesiastical episode of Panizzi’s life, it
behoves us to return to our interrupted narrative and to the relation of
the results of his expedition to Italy, as well as his further action in
the liberation of his suffering friends and countrymen.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                               CHAPTER XX

_Devising Means for Escape of Settembrini; Mode of Carrying on
    Correspondence; Senesi Collection; Mazza Affair; Loss of the ‘Isle
    of Thanet.’_


No sooner had Panizzi arrived in London than he began devising means of
escape from the dungeons of the Neapolitan Government for his unhappy
friends. His first efforts were for the deliverance of Settembrini, in
captivity at San Stefano, the relief of Poerio, more closely watched in
an inland prison, being of secondary consideration. That the work was
both arduous and hazardous may be conceived, and that as yet no very
palpable improvement in the state of Naples had resulted,
notwithstanding Panizzi’s exertions during his visit, may be gathered
from a letter by Sir William Temple:

  ‘There is no appearance of any change in the police here, as the trial
  for the affair of the 15th May is conducted in a more illegal way than
  that of Poerio. The judge puts words into the witnesses’ mouths, or,
  at least, reads them their former depositions, and threatens them with
  punishment if they do not adhere to them.’

                                       ‘Naples, January 15th, 1852.’

On the subject of poor Settembrini and his family, Panizzi wrote in
these terms to Mr. Haywood:—

                                           “B. M., March 20th, 1852.

  “You may recollect the name of Settembrini among those of the persons
  condemned to death, and then to an _Ergastolo_ for life, of whom
  Gladstone spoke in his publications, and I myself more at length in my
  article in the _Edinburgh Review_, in which I inserted the letter
  which he (Settembrini) wrote to his wife whilst the judges were
  deliberating on his fate. When at Naples, I became acquainted with
  Settembrini’s wife and his two children—a boy and a girl. The
  persecutions to which that poor woman and those children have been
  subjected are incredible. Among other things, no teacher dared give
  instruction to the boy for fear of losing the permission which every
  teacher must obtain from the Government to be allowed to follow his
  profession.”

On February 21st, 1852, Lord Shrewsbury wrote to Panizzi:—“We were glad
to hear of your safe return, and sincerely trust your visit to Italy
will not pass without its fruit, both at home and abroad, by removing
some English prejudices in favour of the Revolutionary party, and by
aiding in the expected reform of the Prison discipline and Police
Government at Naples.” On both these points, and more especially the
first, his Lordship may be pardoned for having been somewhat sanguine.

There was but little need for Panizzi to seek the aid and support of Mr.
Gladstone in his present plans. On his co-operation he could ever count,
even without asking; nor was the continued maintenance of that tyranny
and injustice, which he had so distinguished himself by denouncing,
likely to diminish the great statesman’s sympathy for its victims.

                                     “Liverpool, November 5th, 1853.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Be assured that if anything like an opportunity shall offer, I
  will not be slack in seizing it on behalf of the poor Neapolitans.
  Were I inclined to halt, the recollection of your journey, undertaken
  for the love of them and of truth, would shame me into activity. I
  will not fail to communicate with Clarendon.

                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

                                       “Hagley, December 14th, 1853.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I have read Poerio’s letter with horror, but also with
  admiration. The last, however does not lessen, it enhances, the first;
  and though I do not well see what can be done hopefully, yet a man
  does not come readily to the conclusion that one can do nothing under
  such circumstances. But first of all can your judgment suggest
  anything? I am coming to town at latest on Friday. Will you either
  come to me on Saturday morning or write (if not before). I am sure
  Lord Clarendon would do anything that he may think gives a chance, and
  I will strain any point. Think the whole matter over before we meet.

                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                    W. E. GLADSTONE.

  Do not be afraid of proposing to me anything that may strike you. I
  return the letter.”

From the year 1852 to 1858, inclusive, many letters, notwithstanding the
numerous difficulties in transmission, had passed between Settembrini
and Panizzi. The former’s letters were consigned through his wife to Sir
W. Temple, and by him forwarded to England. Of the replies,
unfortunately none have reached us. They were directed to Mr. Fagan, who
delivered them to Madame Settembrini. She had them copied in very small
characters, in invisible ink expressly prepared for the purpose. Various
devices were resorted to for introducing these letters into the prison.
At one time they would be hidden in linen or hemp, sent to the
prisoners, that they might occupy their time in weaving; at others they
would be sewn into the soles of the sailors’ shoes, and a multitude of
other modes of concealment was resorted to. It is satisfactory to relate
that the ingenuity bestowed on their safe delivery was amply repaid by
success, and that the officials of this contraband post-office escaped
discovery.

Settembrini’s portion of this correspondence is in itself so
interesting, and contains so much matter of value affecting this
narrative, that it has been thought fit to give somewhat copious
extracts from it. By the following it would appear that the prison of S.
Stefano was no very desirable exchange for the dungeons of the
“Vicaria,” and, moreover, afforded no great encouragement to any hope or
plot for escape:—

                                        “S. S., November 27th, 1852.

  “... I am at present in a _real_ dungeon. Neither I nor any of the
  prisoners are permitted to descend from the floor to which each of
  them is assigned. I remain as much as possible in my own cell, or
  rather den, to avoid coming in contact with desperate characters. I
  never see a human face, and can only at times catch a glimpse of the
  sky that is over the prison yard. Only when the marine courier
  arrives, am I allowed to come down and see him, assist at the
  examination of my effects, and receive my letters, returning
  immediately to my cell. Under these circumstances, you can understand
  how every plan becomes impossible. Time and my own sense of honour may
  guide me, under altered circumstances, but for the present I can do
  naught else but suffer, and suffer in silence. Meanwhile, I trust God
  will have mercy on me, for at times I feel my spirits dying within me,
  and fear, if ever I leave this place alive, I shall come out mentally
  and morally degraded.”

The extract next in order shows that, however close his prison, he was
fortunate enough to be able to avail himself, notwithstanding great
obstacles, of the advantages of that scholarship for which he was so
distinguished. His selection of his author also deserves a word of
praise. After speaking of his son Raffaele, he says:—

                                             “S. S., Feb. 16th 1854.

  “I present you with another production of mine, in the shape of a
  small volume containing some of Lucian’s dialogues, which I have
  translated into Italian. Whenever you have time, I would beg you to
  glance at my work, and give me frankly and honestly your opinion of
  it. Should this attempt not prove wholly unworthy, I shall hope to
  complete the work, leaving out all passages that might now be
  considered objectionable, and when it may please God to restore me to
  mankind, I propose publishing it with an introductory preface, in
  which I should like to mention the benefactors of my family, Lord and
  Lady Holland, Sir William Temple, and you, my dear Sir. Should it not
  please you, I shall simply destroy it. Labouring under immense
  difficulties, without books or assistance of any kind; writing in a
  room of Cyclopean horrors, on the deal boards of my bed, distracted by
  the hammering of a cobbler next to me, I am indeed unable to offer
  anything of genuine worth, such genius as I may have possessed being
  dead within me; but as an Italian, and a man of letters, you will
  judge my work, understand my intentions, and tell me truly whether you
  deem it worthy of presentation to my noble friends and yourself. Do
  not be surprised at my coming forward, in this age of noise and
  turmoil, with a translation from the Greek. In my present state I am
  so far removed from this actual world that, in order to bear my life,
  I take my thoughts back to antiquity, where, with my Lucian, I can
  smile at mankind and at all things past and present. Be indulgent, I
  pray, and believe only in the sincerity of my intentions.”

In the middle of the year 1855 Panizzi had sufficiently matured his plan
of action to be able to enter definitely on the execution of his great
design. He had been hitherto much hampered by the difficulties of
obtaining sufficient money to make a beginning of the enterprise. If
this could be accomplished in time, he arranged to start for Italy
himself in July of the same year. Although the main purpose of his
journey was undoubtedly the deliverance of Settembrini and his
fellow-captives, he thought it best to keep this purpose as far as
possible concealed. An opportunity, however, had occurred, whereby he
might probably combine the business of his office with the pleasure of
succouring his unfortunate friends. On the 25th of July he applied to
the Trustees of the British Museum for an extra month’s leave of
absence, at the same time informing them that a circumstance had lately
come to his knowledge whereof advantage might be taken to render a
portion of his vacation useful to the Library; this referred to the then
impending sale of books belonging to Filippo Senesi of Perugia. An
extract from a letter to Sir James Lacaita, shows something of the
embarrassments under which Panizzi was labouring for want of sufficient
funds for his undertaking:—

                                                  “B. M., 26th July.

  “... The escape seems most feasible in company with an English friend.
  I shall direct it myself in person. No danger for us. What I require
  is money. I have £300 of L—--; to this I shall add £100 of my own,
  which I shall borrow. I want £800 at least. I must see Gladstone
  to-day. I know not what he means to do. Do all you can at Edinbro’ to
  find me money.”

This obstacle, however, was happily overcome, and on the 3rd of August,
he thus wrote to Lacaita:—

  “The affair promises well, and the difficulties are enormous, but as I
  have found money beyond what I had hoped, I am of good courage. There
  is no danger of being defrauded, for I pay no one now; but there is a
  possibility of being betrayed. The sum needed is enormous, and is
  required for the chartering of a steamer, which is to be found. Time
  presses. Mr. Gladstone has behaved wonderfully, or properly speaking
  Mrs. Gladstone, who has given me £100 of her own, and found £200 more
  amongst her friends.”

Panizzi being now well on his way southward, it is necessary to leave
him for the present, in order to give a short account of an incident at
Naples, most conspicuous perhaps for its effect on European politics, or
on the relations between England and the kingdom of the Two Sicilies, in
which it created a passing disturbance. It appears to have been about
this time a deeply-rooted idea in the Neapolitan official mind, that the
real and actual disasters, mostly self-inflicted, which the English had
suffered in the Crimea, joined to the ill-success which the lively
Neapolitan imagination represented as continuously occurring to the
British arms, had reduced England almost to the level of Naples. The
time, it was thought, had come when this once great Power, the abettor
of contumacious subjects against their rightful sovereigns, the upholder
of sedition and rebellion against legitimate authority, might be
insulted with impunity, and a long-standing grudge might be satisfied.
Nor was the opportunity for indulging this patriotic feeling wanting. In
August 1855, Mad^{me.} Parepa, a singer, who had married a Maltese
gentleman, and thereby become a British subject, was very anxious to
obtain a benefit-night at the _San Carlo_, at Naples. She had been
recommended to Sir William Temple, who had a short time before obtained
a promise in her favour from the Duke Satriano, Tito, “Superintendent of
the Theatres.” Of this promise Sir William requested his Attaché, Mr.
Fagan, to remind the Duke; he accordingly called one evening on his
Grace at his box in the theatre, so-termed _Il Fondo_, and delivered the
message. As he was leaving he became aware of the presence of an agent
of police, apparently on duty, with evil intentions, as was indeed the
fact. This man was one Vignati, who had been sent by the Minister of
Police, Mazza, with a message threatening the Duke with imprisonment and
other dire consequences for having received a member of the British
Legation with so much civility. The message delivered by the man was
overheard by some one in the theatre; Mazza himself was also heard
saying, in a loud voice, “I shall not allow myself to be imposed upon by
England, now a fourth-class Power!”

This Caligula, still living and well-known to the biographer, was as
notable in his younger days for the energy with which he exercised his
office as for the suavity of his manner in executing his intentions. It
is recorded of him that, amongst other arbitrary proceedings, he, on one
occasion, sent for Signor Niccolini (now of the National Museum, Naples)
and loaded him with abuse for presuming to wear a beard. Disregarding
the advice to hold his tongue, given him by a bystander, Niccolini
boldly answered the Minister that if the growing of beards was illegal
he ought at least to publish an order prohibiting it. _No, no_, said
Mazza, _no publishing of orders for me, to be held up to ridicule by
Piedmontese newspapers. You go and cut off your beard, and see you keep
clear of conspiracies!_ On another occasion at Catanzaro, in an excess
of temper, he went so far as to break his cook’s arm.

The occurrence at the theatre was communicated that same evening to Sir
William Temple, who lost no time in sending a note of remonstrance to
the Minister for Foreign Affairs. That functionary, however, seemed in
no hurry, either to make apology or give redress for the insult that had
been offered to the British Mission. However insignificant and unworthy
of resentment Naples might be, however small in comparison with England,
the insolence was too great to be passed over. The matter was at once
reported to the Government at home, and communicated by Mr. Fagan to
Panizzi, who answered as follows.—(August 22nd, 1855.)—“I am delighted
to hear directly from you what I have already heard and considered
incredible. Lord Palmerston will not, I presume, overlook this
affair....” Nor was Panizzi mistaken. Lord Palmerston’s action in the
matter was, as might be supposed, prompt and decisive:—

                                     “Piccadilly, August 25th, 1855.

  “My dear William,

          ... King Bomba’s insult to England, through the British
  Mission at Naples, must be properly atoned for. Clarendon being at
  Paris, nothing can be decided till he returns, and the Cabinet can be
  assembled. But I have written to Clarendon to say that my opinion is
  that we ought to insist upon the immediate dismissal of Mazza, and
  upon a promise that he shall never again be employed in any public
  capacity. I would not make this demand till our reserve squadron, now
  in attendance on the Queen, but which will return with her on Tuesday,
  and which consists of three line-of-battle ships, shall have anchored
  in the Bay of Naples, opposite the King’s Palace, and shall have taken
  on board the Mission and the Consul, and then I would have a boat sent
  on shore, with a demand that in two hours an answer should be sent by
  the King, saying that Mazza was dismissed, allowing half an hour for
  the letter to go, half an hour for the answer to come back, and a
  whole hour for writing the answer. If the time passed without a
  satisfactory reply, the palace should share the fate of Sweaborg[D]
  (_e poi dopo_), if that should not be sufficient. However, we shall
  see what resolution may be come to when the Cabinet meets on the
  question.

                                        Yours affectionately,
                                                        PALMERSTON.”

That Ferdinand II. was extremely loth to dismiss Mazza may be gathered
from his delay in making up his mind to do so. The case, however, was
urgent, and, pressed by his son Francis to hesitate no longer, inasmuch
as the Minister was aware of his impending fate, the King removed Mazza
from his office, and issued a decree[E] stating that he had been called
to _another office_.

Amid all this turmoil and confusion in the Government of Naples—this
system of continuous oppression—there was one person who,
notwithstanding all his misdeeds, may fairly claim some little share of
our commiseration—the King himself. On the evidence of Mr. Gladstone and
others, it is clear that Ferdinand was not wholly without his good
traits of character. He was not devoid of a certain amount of
intelligence.

Tyranny and slavery, however, exercise a doubly evil influence, and harm
the despot as much as the victim, the owner as the slave. At the time of
the Mazza case, his Majesty, taught by experience, had arrived at that
wholesome judgment of persons and things which trusts nobody and
nothing. He had long ceased to put confidence even in his own Ministers;
political matters he directed himself, and himself wrote all the more
important political despatches, many of which display considerable
acumen. It would not, indeed, be unfair to impute a portion of his
faults to the peculiar character of his subjects, of whom he was wont to
say that they differed so much from, and were so greatly inferior to,
any other people of the Peninsula, that he alone could govern them.

Meanwhile, Panizzi’s arrangements for the deliverance of the prisoners
of San Stefano had been gradually and surely progressing, and to all
appearance hopefully. He had communicated to Settembrini the manner in
which he proposed to make the attempt, and from him received the
following letter:—

                                        “Santo Stefano,
                                                  August 31st, 1855.

  “As a precaution I write this letter with invisible ink, which will be
  made legible before it is forwarded to you. For the same reason, and
  in the same way, your letters of the 30th and 31st July have been sent
  to me. I cannot tell you what I felt on reading them. You are a man
  who surpasses every expectation. We dared not hope for a steamer; now
  you offer us one, it is all that we could desire. From your letter it
  appears that the steamer will not start from Naples, as I had
  expected. This matters little to us, but it is most important that it
  should be known in Naples not less than twelve days before.
  Communication with this place is neither easy nor frequent, and we
  must know the date fixed upon at least four days in advance, as there
  are certain indispensable preparations to be made. Now the time it
  will necessarily take for this letter to reach you, and for you to
  come to a determination and give Madame Louison (Settembrini), through
  some person, twelve days’ notice, will bring us to the month of
  October, which will be more suitable, as the cold weather and rains
  will then have set in, moreover the nights will be longer.

  In short we are ready, only requiring four days’ notice, but the date
  fixed upon must be known in Naples twelve days before. In deciding
  upon the day, however, care should be taken that there be little or no
  moon during the early hours of the night, and, therefore, it seems to
  me that we ought to choose some time between the 6th and 18th of
  October, and, if it could be the night preceding a holiday, so much
  the better.

  We shall, therefore, wait to be informed on what day the steamer will
  pass, and what will be the signals. We are on the upper floor of the
  building where there are some small windows which look to westward; in
  the remainder of the building there are only small apertures and
  loop-holes which are almost invisible. The third window, commencing
  from the north, is ours; and from this window we have a view of the
  whole space between Ponza and Capo Circello. The steamer should carry
  a conspicuous signal as our telescopes are not very good. She ought to
  find herself at 4.30 or 5 o’clock two miles from the northern
  extremity of Ventotene, and then, if it is thought necessary, unfurl a
  sail to enable us to see and recognize her. Then, if she passes to the
  east, there will be sufficient time and light to see the wall with an
  archway, almost immediately below which, on the shore, is a small
  creek where the boat will have to wait, and where we intend to be at 2
  o’clock a.m. When the steamer has lost sight of the small windows she
  will proceed eastward, bearing to the south, as if making for Messina.
  During the night she can return from S.S.E. as I have written in
  another letter, but must not come too near Santo Stefano, and thence
  she would put out the boat. When we reach the archway, we will make a
  signal with a lantern, which we will repeat on reaching the sea. If a
  password is necessary, we might say, _God help us_, and may God truly
  help us, and lead me with my companions to a place of safety; I trust
  I shall not have to write to you again. Keep well.

  P.S.—If it should be stormy on the day fixed, the steamer could come,
  without any signals, on the following day or the first fine one, for
  we shall commence operations the moment we know the date, and complete
  them on seeing the steamer; and if a storm should rise while the boat
  is waiting in the above-mentioned creek, obliging it to put off from
  the shore, it must make a great effort to return, and throw us a rope
  which we can lay hold of. It is necessary to foresee what is likely to
  take place.”

Not long after the date of this letter, Panizzi sent to Mr. Fagan a
summary of his plan of rescue, containing all the details of the work,
and the mode in which he proposed to carry it out. This ran as follows:—

                                          “Genoa, 31st August, 1855.

  “1.—In the last days of September and beginning of October, a steamer
  will pass to the eastward of the Convent (_i.e._, the prison), where
  are the birds (prisoners), having one white streamer flying from each
  mast, or from one mast, which streamer will be hauled down for some
  moments, and then hoisted again when it is at its nearest point to the
  island.

  “2.—The steamer will proceed on her course and run out of sight.

  “3.—On the night of that day she will return, and approach the Convent
  as nearly as she can with safety, without chance of discovery.

  “4.—At midnight she will send her boats to the island, and they will
  proceed towards the place already fixed upon in the plan.

  “5.—The boats will not touch the shore, but will wait off till a light
  is shown from the beach, when they will approach within hail.

  “6.—The password from the Nuns is the name of the friend of Louison
  (_i.e._, _Panizzi_).

  “7.—The password from the boat will be the name of Louison’s father
  (_i.e._, _Luigi_).

  “8.—If the Nuns be prevented coming to the beach between twelve and
  four o’clock that night, the steamer will put to sea, and return again
  at the same hour, and the same process will be repeated.

  “9.—If the second attempt fails, the matter must be deferred.

  “10.—If the steamer does not appear, it is because difficulties have
  prevented it.

  “Now if Madame Settembrini has a short memory, it will be best to
  commit these points to writing, and enclose them in a wax pill covered
  with gutta-percha (a piece of which is enclosed), and which she will
  put in her mouth and swallow, if examined closely at the Convent. But
  better still if there be nothing in writing.”

The plan set forth met with the fullest approbation from Mr. Fagan; he,
however, wrote to Panizzi “to be most cautious, for although Mazza had
left the Police, _they_, the English, were watched night and day, and
were hated by the King’s partisans.”

The great difficulty in the undertaking turned out to be the obtaining
of a vessel. Owing to the exigencies of the Crimean War, Panizzi, up to
the 31st of August, had been unable either to charter or buy a craft
suitable for his purpose. At length the desired object was attained in
the shape of the screw steamer “Isle of Thanet.” But now comes the
melancholy part of the story; failure of skilfully and anxiously
concerted plans, waste of money collected with so much pain, arduous and
continuous labour miserably thrown away; bitter disappointment to
Panizzi, and prolonged incarceration of the wretched inmates of S.
Stefano. The ill-fated vessel charged with the restoration to freedom of
Settembrini and his companions was but laden, after all, with the
destruction of the hopes of all concerned in the attempted liberation.
Scarcely had she started from Hull, when she met with a disabling
accident which forced her to put back for repairs. These being
completed, she set forth a second time, and had proceeded no further
than Yarmouth when she was caught in a storm on the 25th of October and
totally lost. So ended by no default of skill, but by the merest caprice
of fortune, an enterprise which, if we consider the persons engaged, the
means within their reach, and the purity of its purpose, must ever be
reckoned as a most brilliant attempt; and so did not end, at least with
all true lovers of freedom and humanity, the glory of those that had
embarked upon it.

Amongst others who felt the disappointment of the failure almost as
keenly as Panizzi himself was Mr. Gladstone, who lost no time in writing
a letter of condolence on the ill-success of the expedition:—

                             “Hawarden, Chester, November 6th, 1855.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I cannot help writing you a line, however barren of
  condolence. I had hoped it might please God that your benevolent plan
  should succeed. It seems usually so hopeless to do good in this world,
  on a large scale, that one desires to become intensely concentrated on
  what lies within a small compass. For myself, too, I feel that with
  respect to the Italians I have had a great deal more credit than I
  have fairly earned; and I wished to have a hand in _doing_ something
  by way of a step towards rectifying the account. I am so little
  informed of the reasons and particulars of your mode of proceeding,
  that I will at present go no further; but whenever the opportunity
  offers, I shall be most desirous to converse with you. I hope to hear
  more in the interval if you have more that can be usefully said.

  I have resumed, during this recess, some old studies on Homer, and
  have also gone back for collateral illustration to that field of which
  I am very fond—the Italian romance. So for the first time I have been
  reading you on Ariosto and Bojardo, and on the romance in general; let
  me add, with great interest and pleasure, and with profit too, unless
  it be my own fault. But I am curious to know whether you still hold
  all the opinions that you had when you gave these books to the world.
  Are you still willing to have it thought to be probably your opinion
  that Berni is better than Bojardo? I am inclined to like Domenichi
  better than Berni, because he is so much nearer Bojardo. Mr. Hallam
  speaks of him with contempt. I doubt if he had paid much attention to
  either.

  I have also been reading the ‘Orlandino’ and the ‘Ricciardetto.’ All
  these poems have an interest attaching to them as parts of a great
  chapter of literature. The last of them, at least the first half of
  it, though far from unexceptionable, seems to me better and not worse
  than Ariosto, in the one point for which he is justly censured.

                                  Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                    W. E. GLADSTONE.

A few graceful words to the same effect were also received by Panizzi
from Sir W. Temple:—“Should the aid of friends be necessary, I hope you
will reckon me among the number.”

The following letter, with which the present chapter concludes,
distinctly proves of what stuff Settembrini was composed, and the same
commendation may, without presumption, be extended to his companions:—

                                 “Santo Stefano, December 3rd, 1855.

  “To think that you and your generous friends should have spent so much
  time and money, and should have undertaken a long journey all in vain,
  grieves me beyond measure, for I can imagine all you must have done
  and hoped to achieve, and how disappointed you must have been at the
  unfortunate results. Do not, however, think of me; I am inured to
  suffering, and am not worth so much trouble. I grieve on your account,
  the more as my own ill-luck seems to pursue those who interest
  themselves on my behalf. Should you be forced to give this matter up,
  do not let it vex or trouble you.... Do not distress yourself about me
  and my companions; we have lost but one hope more, and we have lost so
  many already, the greater loss is his who has laboured and spent, and
  done so much in vain. If the matter is still delayed, and if,
  nevertheless, you and your friends are still willing to conduct it to
  an issue, you will be guided by your generous and noble hearts rather
  than by our merits. In such case give me timely advice, in order that
  I may inform you if it is still possible for us to do anything to
  second your efforts, and also whether any unforeseen obstacle may not
  render it necessary to change the original plan....”



[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XXI

_Bianchini’s Appointment; Settembrini Fund; Convention with Argentine
    Republic; Correspondence; Orsini; Napoleon III._


After the suppression of Mazza, a marked change for the better took
place in the general conduct of the Neapolitan Police. Bianchini, the
new Minister, presented in every way a favourable contrast to his
predecessor in office. Under his gentle rule, the normal system of
oppression was relaxed, and the strongest front faced those dangers,
arising from revolutionary incendiarism, which the cause of Liberty was
perpetually incurring. ‘There is a lull,’ wrote Sir Wm. Temple to
Panizzi (Jan. 17th 1856) ‘in the proceedings of the Police; Campagna has
been kept in order, and there are no longer attacks upon _hats_ and
_beards_; and people breathe more freely,’ Though the ardour for the
_chasse aux rouges_ had sensibly diminished, and the King’s subjects
were enjoying their liberty—quite a novelty to them—of being able to
walk abroad in comparative security, it must not be supposed that the
benefits arising from the improved state of things had extended to those
political adversaries who were already in durance. Of carrying out his
schemes for the rescue of Settembrini and his companions at San Stefano,
Panizzi, notwithstanding his former failure, had by no means abandoned
hope or intention. In framing his future projects to this end, he had
met at Genoa, where he now was, with valuable assistance, in the shape
of the counsel and co-operation of Dr. Bertani. After deducting the loss
sustained by the wreck of the “Isle of Thanet,” for it was not fully
insured, there remained still in hand a considerable sum of money, a
portion of the fund lately set on foot for the liberation of the
prisoners. This sum, until some further design for accomplishing the
rescue had been definitely determined upon, Panizzi felt some scruple in
retaining; and accordingly wrote to the respective donors of the money
offering to return the contributions.

They, however, with one or two exceptions, preferred to leave the whole
of their subscriptions in his possession, to be applied by him either to
the main purpose, or to such uses as, in his judgment, might seem best
for the benefit of Settembrini and his family, who were at this time in
a state of the deepest distress. The letters of Lord Overstone and Lord
Zetland seem worthy of reproduction:—

                                               “February 25th, 1856.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          “I regret to learn you have not been able to apply the money
  to the purpose originally contemplated. I am sure, however, it will be
  destined, under your superintendence, to very useful and benevolent
  purposes, and I beg you to consider yourself as vested with full and
  unrestricted authority so far as regards,

                                           Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                         OVERSTONE.”

                                -------

                                                   “October 8, 1856.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          “As one of the contributors to the fund which you raised, I
  will beg you to retain my contribution, to be appropriated in the
  manner you think best for Settembrini and his family. The first object
  would, of course, be his liberation; but if that cannot be effected, I
  am quite satisfied to leave it to your judgment how to appropriate it
  to the best advantage for him and his family.

                                          Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                           ZETLAND.”

Here we may pause for an instant to reflect on the steadiness of
Panizzi’s character. With an aim in view he was never faint-hearted or
desponding, even when the victim of constantly repeated rebuffs; it is
well to note this ever-recurring trait in his character, for the
recollection may serve as an encouragement to others who might be
inclined to despair instead of imitating his example.

The “Settembrini Fund,” amounting to about £1,000, was finally entrusted
to the charge and management of Mr. Gladstone, and by him securely
invested in England.

Meantime, a new influence had been brought to bear at Naples on the
fortunes of Settembrini and the rest. The King had concluded with the
Government of the Argentine Republic a Convention, whereby he was to be
at liberty to deport to that State such political offenders (including,
as it would appear, others of a different and more criminal caste)
detained at this time in the Neapolitan prisons, as should choose to
avail themselves of the commutation for exile proffered them. It is not
clear whether this alternative was actually offered to Settembrini,
Poerio, and their immediate companions; but it is evident, not only that
they would have been at perfect liberty to avail themselves of it, but
that the King would have been delighted to rid himself of them by the
means proposed. The question whether or not they would be adopting a
judicious course of action in agreeing to the terms offered by the
Convention, and accepting the modicum of liberty they could purchase at
the price of expatriation, divided their friends and benefactors into
two factions.

On one side, Panizzi himself was strongly opposed to their taking such
steps, and vehemently supported a different course, viz., that they
should petition the King directly for their pardon and release. He
appears, and, to judge from his own words, not unreasonably, to have
suspected something latent in the Convention which might prove an
insurmountable obstacle to the voluntary return of the exiles from their
new country to the old, or, indeed, to Europe in general. In a letter to
Lacaita (February 17th, 1857) he thus expressed himself strongly on the
subject:—

  “I wish you would try to dissuade any Neapolitan prisoners to accept
  the alternative of going to the Argentine Republic. They have no
  guarantee or protection whatever that the conditions under which they
  consent to go will be observed. _They will be made slaves._ I know
  very well the agent who has set this going: he is a most clever
  Alsatian Jew, who has several times put together enormous fortunes by
  schemes and speculations of an adventurer, and who has been as many
  times reduced to beggary. I know that some of the prisoners, among
  others Poerio and Settembrini, have been offered by the Neapolitan
  Government a free pardon, if they will petition the King, and they
  have refused! This is not firmness, but foolhardiness. There is
  nothing disparaging for a man who is bound hand and foot, and has a
  dagger put to his throat, to ask to be released. Any man, however
  brave, will run away from a mad dog. If they were asked to acknowledge
  themselves guilty, would be right to refuse, and rather die in prison;
  but it is sheer folly to refuse to ask to be let out. This is the
  opinion of _all_ their friends here. It seems that Fagan urges them to
  go to America.

                                            Ever yours,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

The position of matters at this time, as regards carrying out the terms
of the Convention, was reported to Lord Shelburne, who had been
requested to consult Lord Clarendon on the subject. This, however, he
appears not to have considered of any very great importance. Mr.
Gladstone seems equally to have oscillated between the two alternatives
of exile to La Plata and a petition for a not dishonourable pardon:—

                                                “February 5th, 1857.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          The paper on the Argentine Colonization reads well, but
  everything depends on the good faith of the parties. What are the
  guarantees for the fulfilment of the terms? I see them not. On the
  other hand, I agree with you that if a petition could be framed,
  praying in terms of due respect for liberation, without directly or
  indirectly confessing guilt, there could be no dishonour in presenting
  it.

                                   Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

On the other hand, Lord Palmerston, though he expresses no belief one
way or other, yet perceives in the possible want of _bona fides_ in
carrying out the Convention on either side, not in the proposal of
emigration, the chance that the prisoners might have to submit to that
deprivation of future liberty, so much feared by Panizzi:—

                                               “11th February, 1857.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          “... As to Settembrini, I doubt whether he and any of his
  fellow-prisoners would not do well to agree _to go_ to South
  America. They would not be bound to _stay_ there; and it would be
  for them to decide whether their liberty is worth purchasing by
  two voyages across the Atlantic.

                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        PALMERSTON.”

Settembrini, meanwhile, distracted by the diversity of opinion among
his friends, and perplexed by the strenuous opposition displayed by
Panizzi to the emigration scheme, applied to Mr. Fagan for
explanation of this apparently uncalled for opposition, and for
further advice as to his own action. As regards the alternative of
petitioning the King for pardon, we confess that, on the point of
honour, we coincide more strongly in Settembrini’s opinions, stated
in the following letter, than in the views expressed in Panizzi’s
letter to Lacaita. What the former wrote to Mr. Fagan is so well
worth reading, and so characteristic of the writer, that we make no
apology for presenting long extracts.

                                    “Santo Stefano, March 2nd, 1857.

  “My dear Mr. Fagan,—

          The kindness which you have at all times shown me
  emboldens me to write and explain to you a plan of mine which
  appears to me reasonable, and to beg you to let me know through my
  wife (who will be the bearer of this letter) whether there is
  anything on which I might be misinformed. Mr. Panizzi, in the name
  of his friends and himself, advises me to ask for a pardon. He
  evidently sees no other way, and I myself have given up hope. He
  tells me on no account to accept an offer to go to the Argentine
  Republic, but for what reason I am unable to discover, though I
  have mused over it for days. Mr. Panizzi is to me such an
  authority, I respect, love, and owe him so much, in fact, that I
  am really grieved to find myself differing from him. I feel sure
  that he has either been misinformed as to my intentions, or that
  he knows more than I do. As in his letter he seems to have
  expressed his settled conviction, I will not write to him, for it
  would seem discourteous to contradict him. For this reason I beg
  you will tell me whether you know what has induced Mr. Panizzi to
  give me this advice, or, at least, to explain to him my motives,
  if you approve of them. You, my dear Sir, having lived amongst us
  for so many years, and knowing so well both the intentions and
  opinions of the Government and the Liberal party, can understand
  how, under present circumstances, a request for pardon is not
  merely a personal matter, is not only the sacrifice of one’s
  dignity, and of that legitimate pride which every honest man ought
  to feel; it is not merely coming to terms with a robber or
  highwayman, and begging him to spare your life, but it is a matter
  of public interest, and means the recantation of political creed,
  and the recognition as right and legal of all the enormous
  injustice committed during the last nine years. It would be
  telling the nation we have all been in the wrong; it would be
  giving the lie to England and France (who have solemnly condemned
  the conduct of the Neapolitan Government;) it would be saying to
  the public opinion of Europe, you have been deceived. The
  Neapolitan Government well knows the value of such requests, and,
  while using all manner of insinuations and suggestions to extort
  them, will not take them into consideration unless they are of the
  most abject character, wishing not only to humiliate, but to
  degrade the applicants. I would sooner remain here than leave my
  prison through such a door. I know that many others have asked for
  mercy, and I do not blame them, but I trust no one will blame me
  for my irrevocable resolve.... Such pardon as the Government
  offers is contemptible, and death or the galleys would be
  preferable. My honour and conscience are my own, no power in the
  world can rob me of these my last possessions. I am thoroughly
  convinced that in asking for a reprieve I should injure both
  myself and our common cause, therefore I have decided not to make
  an application on any terms. There still remains one honourable
  way of leaving my prison. By going to America my personal dignity
  would not suffer, for it is the Government who offers, not I who
  ask. It will do no harm to the common cause; for though it may
  appear that in leaving I show a want of confidence in the country,
  yet I shall give no grounds for suspicion that in remaining I wish
  to ask or accept pardon. Oh, my dear sir, in this prison I am
  daily losing intelligence, conscience, and all human feeling, and
  the thought that for the last seven years I have lived on other
  people’s charity breaks my heart and aggravates my troubles. This
  state of things is insupportable. To escape from it a year ago I
  ran great risk, and now I would go not only to the Argentine
  Republic or Patagonia, but even to Victoria or the Pole. I never
  had any intention of settling abroad, but would remain there as
  short a time as possible, returning to Europe and Piedmont, there
  to meet my poor wife and beloved son, and live on the fruits of my
  own labour. It would merely be banishment to Piedmont with the
  preliminary conditions of twice crossing the ocean, even for those
  who could not return so soon to Europe, the journey would not be
  altogether an evil, for either our country would remain as it is
  (and the Argentine Republic would be preferable to a prison), or
  matters will change for the better, and then they could at any
  time return home. This opinion seems reasonable to me; but on
  perusing Mr. Panizzi’s letter, I am so impressed by his authority
  that I have hesitated. I have racked my brains to find reasons for
  the contrary, and have found none to satisfy me. The Convention
  has not met with favour in this country for I believe two
  reasons—prejudice against a Government which, being hated, cannot
  please in what it does, and also from sheer ignorance, which
  associates the ideas of a disastrous and interminable journey to a
  country haunted by yellow fever and infested with savages and all
  sorts of horrors. None but the ignorant multitude would attach
  importance to such rumours. Many have tried to persuade me that
  once despatched to those regions we should never be allowed to
  return, and that the Convention has been artfully drawn up to lead
  us into a trap. Abiding, however, by the first and trustworthy
  information which you, Sir, most kindly imparted to my wife, I
  still believe that the man who does not accept the conditions of a
  colonist (and who lets the Government know that he wants nothing
  from it, but will live at his own expense) could not be compelled
  to submit to any restrictions, but might remain or return at his
  own pleasure. It is quite just that a colonist who contracts a
  debt should be watched, and not allowed to depart without
  satisfying all claims; but he who accepts nothing owes nothing. It
  would be an enormity of a novel kind should the Argentine Republic
  consent to act as the police of the Bourbons, and become the
  jailers of their political prisoners. It would be a pretty sort of
  recommendation to Europe, a fine inducement to strangers to settle
  in Argentina, if they were to act thus in total opposition to the
  spirit and letter of their constitution, which, thanks to your
  kindness, I have read. I therefore repeat my belief that there
  would be no difficulty in leaving the place, and that no secret
  conventions exist in that respect; but if you, dear Sir, should
  now think differently, or even suspect anything of the kind, I beg
  you let me know frankly; I earnestly entreat this, as it is to me
  a matter of the greatest importance. In consequence of your
  assurance that it would be possible to return to Europe (and from
  what I have myself read in the Convention) I am firmly persuaded
  that it will be the most reasonable course to go. Mr. Panizzi now
  advises me not to do so, without, however, stating his reasons,
  and I beg you to relieve me of my doubts as soon as possible. My
  future intentions would be (if allowed to return) to embark
  immediately in any merchant vessel at hand, and sail for Genoa or
  Marseilles. Three years ago my son Raffaele went to Monte Video in
  a trading vessel, and made the voyage out and back in less than
  ten months, including the time of his stay there, which was not
  short. The voyage from La Plata to Genoa could be accomplished in
  two months, or even less. Now I cannot discover any injury to
  either the public cause or myself in all this. If others see harm
  I would beg them to indicate clearly in what it is, in order that
  I may alter my opinion and do nothing painful to myself or
  displeasing to those who love me and whom I both love and respect.
  To your courtesy, my dear Sir, I look for the answer which will
  either change my opinion or confirm me in the intention which at
  present seems reasonable to me. In conclusion I must inform you
  that all political prisoners, including those confined at Ponza
  and Ventotene, have been asked whether or not they are willing to
  go to the Argentine Republic (we galley slaves alone excepted). I
  cannot assign any reason for this exception. I do not know whether
  the Government are unwilling to send us out, whether they have
  reserved us for a second expedition, or have abandoned the whole
  matter from irritation at the refusal of almost all the prisoners.
  But I believe that, in spite of the delay, the matter will still
  be carried into effect, even for us “forzati” who are kept here as
  so much refuse from the gallows.

                        Yours, &c., &c.,         LUIGI SETTEMBRINI.”

Whether the Convention had already turned out a “complete failure”
or not, the pace at which the whole business was progressing must
have given ample time to Settembrini to make up his own mind, as
well as to collect and digest all the advice worth following as to
the line of action best for him to adopt. The parties to the
Convention, and notably the King himself, seem certainly to have
been in no hurry to bring the affair to a climax. “Nothing is
known,” wrote Mr. Fagan again to Panizzi (April 25th, 1857,) “with
certainty respecting the affair of the political prisoners. The two
frigates which are now being fitted out will not be ready for sea
before the end of next month. The general impression appears to be
that about 250 persons will be sent, but they are all men belonging
to the lower class, and not all condemned for political offences.”

[Illustration]

In this stage of delay and uncertainty we will take the liberty to
leave the proceedings for the present, in order to bring on the
scene another character, afterwards a somewhat intimate acquaintance
of Panizzi’s—it would be scarcely warrantable to call him a
friend—in notoriety, more than equal to Poerio or Settembrini, but
not as they were, of honourable and untarnished celebrity. Few are
living but have heard or read of Felice Orsini; equally few are they
who do not hold both the man and his criminal intentions in deep
execration. He was born at Meldole, in the States of the Church, in
1819. From his youth upwards, his fixed idea, his sole purpose of
life was Revolution; conspiracy was to him as the breath of his
nostrils. It cannot in strict truth be alleged that he absolutely
and deliberately set his mind on murder, as the surest or most
desirable means to accomplish his object, but neither can it be
denied that if murder became a most necessary ingredient in his
plans, if it showed him the easiest way, he was ready, without
scruple even, to adopt such fell measures. Orsini’s first
imprisonment for political crime was in 1844. In February, 1845, he
was again convicted before the Supreme Tribunal of Rome, and
condemned to the galleys for life, for a plot against the
Government. Fortunately for himself, he was comprised in the general
amnesty of the 16th of July, 1846, published by Pius IX. on his
accession to the Papal chair, and released, or perhaps it ought to
be said let loose, in the same year. In May, 1847, he was expelled
from Tuscany for his political intrigues. Two years afterwards he
was elected a Deputy in the Roman Constituent Assembly; but, in
1853, was forced to quit Roman territory. He first sought refuge in
London, which, however, in a short time, he left, and for a period
was busied in roaming through Piedmont, Switzerland, and Lombardy,
continually, wherever he went, plotting and scheming under the
assumed name of Tito Celci. He was next heard of under the name of
Hernof, at Vienna, in 1855, when he was arrested and sent to the
fortress of Mantua. Thence, by energy and skill, no less by good
fortune, he made his escape in the night of 28th-29th March, of the
same year. He next visited Marseilles and Genoa, whence he returned
to London. At this period he was on most intimate terms with
Mazzini. Their friendship, however, was not of lifelong duration: it
ended in a quarrel.

By Mazzini, it appears, Orsini was first introduced to Panizzi; but
the introduction must have been merely formal, as there is no record
of any intercourse between the two arising therefrom, and Panizzi
seems to have lost sight of him very soon afterwards. However on the
14th of August, 1856, he was recommended by Mr. John Craufurd as a
proper person to become a reader in the Library of the British
Museum. The letter of introduction was delivered by Orsini himself,
on the 18th of the same month, when he met with Panizzi, and a
strong mutual liking for one another sprang up. In fact, as we know
from the best of sources, this sympathetic feeling very nearly
assumed the proportions of friendship; for Panizzi expressed himself
as never having been so much captivated by any one as by Orsini. The
familiarity thus quickly established, showed early signs of
endurance; and the following letter, which throws a good deal of
light as well on the character as on the history of the writer, may
be read with interest:—

                              “14, Cambridge Terrace, Hyde Park,
                                                  27th August, 1856.

  “My dear Sir,

          I have examined the Catalogue of the Library respecting
  the Art and Science of Warfare. It is but poorly furnished with
  the most instructive works published during and after the wars of
  Napoleon. It is the same with the United Service Institution,
  where I was admitted for the purpose of consulting the books which
  I required for the composition of the military work that I have in
  hand, and I have in consequence had to order various books from
  France at my own expense; but, however, I shall soon have to study
  the work of which I send you the title: “La grande Tactique du
  Marquis de Ternay,” Colonel of the Staff. These works, especially
  that of Martray, I could not procure on account of the expense,
  but should you think it desirable for the Library to acquire them,
  it would be of great assistance to me. The Paris edition of
  Ternay’s work ought not to cost more than 25 francs, and that of
  Brussels much less. The work which I am engaged upon will be in
  English, and contain all the information required by officers in
  the field, from the Sub-Lieutenants of the three branches of which
  an army is composed, up to the Chief Staff Officer inclusive. It
  is a serious undertaking as it must be restricted to a portable
  volume, and include, with clearness and conciseness, the _omne
  scibile_ of military affairs. With diligence and assiduity,
  assisted by the studies of my youthful days, I promise myself I
  shall succeed; still it is a work I shall not be able to finish in
  less than six or eight months. While thus engaged, I could devote
  some hours a day to other occupations, and I should like, if
  possible, to give lessons in the Italian language, literature, and
  in military art and science. Having been myself major of the
  staff, I can give good lessons in the latter, and am tolerably
  conversant with the former. Up to the present time my life has
  been unusually eventful, and passed mostly amidst dangers—a
  constant source of anxiety to my family, who have suffered no
  slight losses on my account. As I am a little more quiet just now,
  I wish to derive advantage from my acquirements, while awaiting
  the longed-for moment when I may once again take up arms for our
  independence. I have been advised to advertise in the _Times_ that
  I am willing to give lessons; I should not like to do this, it
  would seem as if I wished to turn my good name to profit,
  although, instead of such an expedient, I think, if you would, you
  might greatly assist me amongst your acquaintances, and in any
  case I am quite ready to follow your advice. With my private life
  you are not, however, acquainted; but on this I give you full
  liberty to apply even to my adversaries, whether in opinion, or
  party, or otherwise, for we all have such. Of languages, I know
  French well, and for private lessons can make myself understood in
  English. I have written this to avoid troubling you, and if you
  will kindly let me know, I can call upon you at any time for
  better advice as to what I have said here. On political affairs I
  know nothing positive, but keep myself (as I told you) independent
  of every one, and should the Sardinian Government deem my slender
  services available for any enterprise, however daring, I am, and
  always shall be, ready, I mean, of course, for the independence of
  my native land; for that, since I could understand the idea, I
  have ever been restless, and have sacrificed all. In saying I am
  ready to lend a hand to the Sardinian Government, I am influenced
  solely by the love of my country and by the conviction that at the
  present time, if it will, it is the only Government that can
  render Italy _independent_, _united_, and _great_; and I shall
  think myself happy if, by devoting all my energies in an important
  act, fraught with _serious consequences_ to the oppressors of
  Italy, I can at the same time put an end to a life which has so
  far been for me but sad, passionate, and melancholy. Pardon this
  expression of my feelings. From what I hear, it appears that my
  little book has met with some success, even in Piedmont and with
  all parties; certainly I have in no way exaggerated, but
  endeavoured to impress the necessity of sacrificing all political
  principle to the National Independence. I have done so myself
  since my first imprisonment in 1844. Nothing remains for me now
  but to beg you to excuse this long letter, and with every respect
  to assure you that I am,

                     Dear Sir, your very humble and devoted servant,
                                                     FELICE ORSINI.”

In another letter, dated “Glastonbury, 7th February, 1857,” he says
in further development of his political dreams:—

“The book, with the documents, &c. ... is now finished.... In an
introduction I insist on this point, that all our efforts should be
directed towards the national independence. “While thus engaged,
every thought of political theories must rest in peace; we are bound
to be on the side of that Italian Government which, excluding the
Pope and any foreign dynasty, will furnish us with the means of
making war on Austria. All this I say with the frankness that has
been natural to me throughout life, with the patriotic ardour that
ever burns within me, and with the firm _conviction_ that by such
conduct alone can the Italians work their redemption.”

To refer to the hideous, and, it may be said with justice, the
vulgar crime of which Orsini and his accomplices were guilty, is not
here necessary, further than will suffice to refresh the memory of
the reader. The attempt took place on the evening of the 14th of
January, 1858, at the moment when the Emperor Napoleon III. and the
Empress arrived at the Opera. The details are too well known to need
repetition. On March 13th following Orsini was guillotined.

That the crime had been long premeditated, and that Orsini had not
been impelled to it by any sudden frenzied impulse, is clear from
a passage in his defence of himself, if defence it could be
called, on his trial:—“From my youth,” said he, “I have only had
one object, and one fixed idea, the deliverance of my country, and
vengeance against the Austrians, and I have constantly conspired
against them up to 1848.... When in England, I was imbued with a
mania of being useful to my country. I witnessed ridiculous
attempts being made by Mazzini, who sent 15 or 20 men to Italy,
where they lost their lives. I tried loyal means; I went over to
England, and in all the meetings which I addressed, advocated the
principle of non-intervention.... After the fall of Rome, I felt
convinced that Napoleon would no longer assist us: and I said to
myself, that man must be killed.... I am very sorry that so many
people were wounded, and if my blood could repair this misfortune,
I am quite ready to give it for the people. Here it is!” These
words were described by the French newspapers at the time as
bombastic—an epithet singularly out of place. Terrible they might
well be called, and full of ghastly meaning: witnesses not only to
the atrocity of the crime itself, but to the length of time—two
whole years—during which the plot to commit it had been in process
of elaboration.

On the eve of his execution, Orsini addressed a letter to the
Emperor, in which he said:—“Near the close of my career, I yet wish
to make a last effort, for the sake of Italy. Her independence has
hitherto prompted me to defy all dangers, to court all sacrifices.
_Italy has been the constant object of my affections, and this is
the last thought that I wish to record in the words which I address
to your Majesty._“

[Illustration]

Let the reader compare the passage with Orsini’s letters to Panizzi.
The death of Napoleon, considered so necessary to the cause of
Italian Union by Orsini, might possibly not have promoted that good
end. But could it have been that the alarm caused to the Emperor by
the assassin’s attempt was one of the chief reasons that led him to
take arms against Austria in 1859?

It has been told the writer of this memoir, on various occasions in
the course of conversation, that, when the news appeared in the
second edition of the _Times_ of Saturday, January 16th, 1858, that
“Orsini or Corsini” had attempted the murder of the Emperor,
Panizzi, who was in the habit of visiting Brooks’s every afternoon,
was at once, and on that very Saturday, questioned by other members
of the Club whether the assassin was his friend. Panizzi replied
that he doubted it very much, seeing that he himself had an
appointment with Orsini for the following day, when they were both
to call on Lord Palmerston together. This was thought at the time to
be a deep but futile scheme for establishing an _alibi_. Of the
truth of the story we have no evidence beyond what we have
mentioned. So far as we have been able to ascertain, there is
nothing to show that Orsini was in London at all in this month of
January. It is a matter of regret that we cannot help the reader
further to judge of the truth or falsehood of the anecdote. As we
would not ourselves be held to have painted the would-be assassin in
too dark a colour, so would we willingly grant all indulgence to any
who, from merely reading the facts of his history, should be
inclined to depict him in the deepest of hues. That, by many
ordinary Englishmen, such a man, who scrupled not to attack and
destroy all, known or unknown, who stood in his way, might aptly be
called the mad dog of society, is perfectly conceivable. But,
granting all that can be brought against him, and in no wise seeking
to justify his actions, we nevertheless submit that the character of
Orsini is rather deserving of careful study, and even of allowance,
if that study be made fully and without prejudice, than of hasty
condemnation. A fanatic of fanatics, he was undoubtedly, both to
friends and foes, the most dangerous of men; but he had also the
good points of a fanatic—he was unselfish, and of necessity
disinterested. If, to use the mildest of terms, he little more than
undervalued his neighbour’s life, he at least threw his own into the
balance. Nor can it be denied, from what has been said and quoted
above, that patriotism (unenlightened it might be, carried to a
crime as it assuredly was, yet earnest and sincere, and having no
taint of self-seeking, though much of self-imposture), was the man’s
one inspiration throughout his life. That personally he was not of a
vulgarly brutal cast of mind is evident if only from his letters to
Panizzi. His learning and ability were more than common place; as a
soldier his skill and courage were unquestioned. We would be content
to speak of him, however, in no higher terms than were employed by
his advocate at his trial. “He was not there,” said M. Jules Favre,
“either to justify or to save his client, but he came there with the
wish to endeavour to cast on his immortal soul some rays of that
truth which he trusted would protect his memory against the
execration of posterity.”

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XXII

_Departure of Neapolitan Prisoners; At Cadiz; Cork; ‘Captain James’;
    Poerio’s Letter; Ferdinand II._


The scheme for getting rid of the political offenders, whose charge
daily increased upon the Neapolitan authorities in the ratio of
captivity to their victims, was coming near its accomplishment. On
the 27th of Dec. 1858, a decree was issued by the King, offering to
the prisoners, in accordance with the Argentine Convention, choice
between emigration and continuance of durance. This decree commenced
as follows, in words possibly not intended to be ironical: ‘By the
Grace of God, &c. Having given proofs of our sovereign clemency to
the greater part of those condemned for offences against the
security of the State during the events of 1848-9,’ &c. It was read
to the prisoners, who, with one exception, accepted the conditions.
The single voice constituting the minority overbalanced the
majority. Poerio refused to accept any of this qualified liberty.

“Better,” said he, “death on the gallows than this futile and costly
journey to a far off land, there to meet a death more obscure and
less honoured.” This refusal of the leading criminal to accept his
freedom under the Convention was of such importance that the idea of
any treaty was abandoned, and the whole plan for the deportation of
the prisoners fell to the ground. Nor was his resolution to bide his
time in captivity fruitless. On the 6th of January, 1859, a second
decree, in substitution of the former, was promulgated, the main
point of which was that certain of the prisoners, in number
sixty-six, including Poerio and Settembrini, should be at liberty to
leave the galleys on condition of going to New York.

This was readily accepted by the select number, and on the 16th of
January, Poerio arrived at Pozzuoli, where, on the same day, he
embarked on board the “Stromboli,” a vessel which had been fitted up
as a prison. Pironti, eminent amongst those oppressed by the
Neapolitan Government, had been attacked by paralysis, and was left
behind in safe custody.

Poerio, on his embarkation, was still in chains, and little
provision had been made for the comforts of the party on starting
for their voyage across the Atlantic. No adequate or suitable
clothing was provided for them, and, as a matter of fact, they were
literally in rags.

Meanwhile, in London Panizzi was alert for the safety and protection
of the exiles in case they reached New York. The United States
Government, about that time, had repeatedly protested against some
of the European Governments deporting their paupers, jail-birds and
prisoners to America, and threatened not only to prevent their
landing, but to compel the captains who brought them to take them
back. Of course no serious apprehensions were entertained for those
Italians, if they fell into the right hands at first. Panizzi
consulted Mr. Henry Stevens, who recommended that correct
information and supplies should be sent direct to the Collector of
Customs in New York, and in such manner arouse his personal interest
in the patriots. Accordingly the following letter was written by Mr.
Stevens to Mr. Schell, who not only took a lively interest in the
affair himself, but encouraged others to the same purpose. A steamer
was kept for many days in readiness to go down the Bay to meet
Poerio and his companions and welcome them to New York. It was,
therefore, no slight disappointment when the news was received that
they had found their way to England.

                                             “Morley’s Hotel,
                                         London, January 28th, 1859.

  “My dear Sir,

          You are doubtless familiar with the story of the Italians
  whom the King of Naples, since his amnesty at the end of December
  last, has sent to New York. There are sixty or seventy of them,
  and it is expected that they will reach America towards the end of
  February. They go from Naples to Cadiz by steamer, and will
  probably be transhipped there to a merchant vessel about the 22nd
  of January.

  Much interest is felt and expressed for them here, and I have no
  doubt, as they are all exiles for political offences, they will
  receive a cordial welcome on our shores.

  I take the liberty not only to call your attention to them, but to
  request that you will be so good as to deliver, as early as
  possible after their arrival, the enclosed letter to one of them,
  Mr. Luigi Settembrini. The letter is from Mr. Panizzi, the Chief
  Officer of the British Museum, who takes a deep interest in them
  all, but more especially in Mr. Luigi Settembrini and Baron Carlo
  Poerio, both gentlemen of distinction, the latter formerly a
  Minister of State.

  The letter to Mr. Settembrini contains matters of importance, and
  will direct him and others to Messrs. Brown Brothers & Co. where
  they will find _something to their advantage_.

  I will only add that some little apprehension has been expressed
  lest the _manner_ in which the King of Naples has sent these
  unfortunates to our shores might bring trouble upon them; but
  their misfortunes are too well known to warrant the belief that
  exiles for political opinions will be opposed on their landing in
  the _Land of Freedom_.

  They will not be destitute, thank God, when they land. Besides the
  sum of fifty dollars given by the King to each one, they will be
  provided for by private hands.

                                    I remain, &c., &c.,
                                              HENRY STEVENS
                                                      (Of Vermont).”

It was on board the “Stromboli” that Poerio and Settembrini met for
the first time since their captivity. Little opportunity was,
however, afforded for the moment of renewing their acquaintance with
each other, for the former, shortly after his arrival on board, was
seized with severe illness, and compelled to keep his bed.

It is pleasing to relate an instance of true kindness and humanity
on the part of at least one officer connected with the Neapolitan
Government, and to record that Ferdinando Cafiero, Commander of the
“Stromboli,” directed that his illustrious prisoner should be placed
in his own (the captain’s) cabin.

They set sail, escorted by the “Ettore Fieramosca,” man-of-war; and
the writer of this “Memoir,” as an eye-witness of their departure,
well recollects the enthusiasm displayed on the occasion. On their
way to Gibraltar they fell in with a Sardinian vessel, flying the
national tricolour. This was a signal for the exiles to run on deck,
and, with deep emotion, salute the flag, the symbol of liberty and
good government in Italy. On the 26th of January, they reached
Cadiz, where another ship was to be chartered to take them to the
United States.

One morning, while at Cadiz, Settembrini was sent for on board the
“Ettore Fieramosca,” a message reaching him that an English officer
wished to speak to him. Here a great and most agreeable surprise
awaited him. His astonishment can scarcely be conceived when he
recognised in the English officer his own son Raffaele.[F] At this
time Raffaele was but a youth in the merchant service. Having been
at school in England, he spoke English fluently, and in language and
general appearance was well fitted for the character he had assumed.
He had taken the name of James, and represented himself as the
captain of a merchantman trading between London and Madeira.

Anything like friendly converse between father and son at this
meeting was, of course, out of the question, but the latter managed
to transmit the whispered words, _You shall not go to America_.
Captain “James,” it should be mentioned, had reached Cadiz by means
of a plan carried out through the agency of the Neapolitan consul at
that port, and concerted in London by Panizzi. All things being thus
happily arranged, the party embarked in the American ship, “David
Stewart,” commanded by Captain Prentiss. The “David Stewart” was
very well found, and comfortable accommodation seems to have been
provided _for her passengers_.

Two days afterwards, she started in tow of the “Stromboli,” and
escorted by the “Ettore Fieramosca,” which had orders to see her
well out to sea. Having established a good offing, the two
Neapolitan men-of-war returned. Captain “James,” meantime, had shown
himself equal to the occasion. He had changed his character of
master of a merchant vessel for that of steward on board the
American vessel. On the night of the Neapolitan’s departure, he
communicated to his father a design which he had formed for
compelling the Captain to return to Lisbon, adding that, in case
resistance was offered, he was provided with arms to enforce
compliance.

Settembrini, as might be expected, listened eagerly to his son’s
proposal; but, in accordance with his general demeanour, strongly
objected to violence of any sort.

The design was forthwith imparted to the exiles, who were
sufficiently numerous to carry the point without resort to force. By
an accident, they were driven to act a little prematurely, but, as
it happened, in no way detrimentally to their ultimate success. A
seaman trod on a percussion cap, and the explosion gave the alarm to
the captain. On this the passengers at once took action, and,
presenting to him a protest against being taken to New York,
demanded that he should make for the first port he could reach in
England. The captain, one-third of whose freight had been retained
as a guarantee for the performance of his contract, remonstrated,
and the demand was for the moment not pressed. On the following
morning, however, it was repeated in a more decided manner. The
exiles drew attention to their numbers, being 66 as against 17 of
the ship’s hands; they represented that, having suffered much from
their confinement, and many of them being of advanced age, they were
not in a state to undergo with safety a long voyage, and added that
one of their number, being well skilled in navigation, would
manœuvre the ship, in case the captain and crew should refuse
their assistance. This skilled seaman was none other than Raffaele,
who had appeared in yet a new _rôle_, and came on deck in a mate’s
uniform of the Galway line of steamers. The passengers, of course,
met with little further opposition. They quietly took possession of
the vessel, setting watches, and taking all precautions to ensure
due execution by the captain of their orders, which were to make for
Cork. The weather proved obstructive, and the voyage tedious, but in
the course of a fortnight, they were safely landed at Queenstown.

Great was the excitement caused here by the arrival of the
distinguished visitors, with whom heartfelt sympathy had for so long
been expressed in every part of the United Kingdom. Lively as was
the pleasure expressed at their safety in these countries, the
disappointment felt by the inhabitants of New York, who had prepared
for Poerio and his companions the warmest reception, was equally
keen. The Italian residents had appointed a Committee to supply
funds for the emigrants to return to Sardinia, which was understood
to be their destination after America. All was in readiness to give
them a cordial welcome. From Mr. Dallas, the American Minister,
Panizzi received the following short note:—

                                            “Legation, U.S., London,
                                               March 9th, 1859.

  “My dear Mr. Panizzi,

          You will see by the enclosed newspaper slips how much my
  countrymen will be disappointed by the revolt of your friends, and
  their safe arrival at Queenstown.

                                           Always, &c., &c.,
                                                      G. M. DALLAS.”

It may be mentioned here that Panizzi, with the concurrence of Mr.
and Mrs. Gladstone, placed £100 at the disposal of Settembrini and
Poerio, to be delivered to them at Gibraltar, which sum, however,
they never received, not having landed there. This loss was soon
compensated by the good fortune which, as we have narrated, had now
befallen them. Not that the enthusiasm shown in their behalf
throughout the country was likely to allow forgetfulness of the
necessity for material assistance. One of the first to propose a
mode of benefitting them was Charles Dickens:—

                                                   “Tavistock House,
                                                   March 14th, 1859.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          If you should feel no delicacy in mentioning, or see no
  objection to mentioning, to Signor Poerio, or any of the wronged
  Neapolitan gentlemen to whom it is your happiness and honour to be
  a friend, on their arrival in this country, an idea that has
  occurred to me, I should regard it as a great kindness in you if
  you would be my exponent. I think you will have no difficulty in
  believing that I would not, on any consideration, obtrude my name
  or projects upon any one of those noble souls, if there were any
  reason of the slightest kind against it. And if you see any such
  reason, I pray you instantly to banish my letter from your
  thoughts.

  It seems to me probable that some narrative of their ten years’
  suffering will, somehow or other, sooner or later, be by some of
  them laid before the English people. The just interest and
  indignation alive here, will, I suppose, elicit it. False
  narratives and garbled stories will, in any case, of a certainty
  get about. If the true history of the matter is to be told, I have
  that sympathy with them and respect for them which would, all
  other considerations apart, render it unspeakably gratifying to me
  to be the means of its diffusion. What I desire to lay before them
  is simply this. If for my successor to _Household Words_ a
  narrative of their ten years’ trial could be written, I would take
  any conceivable pains to have it rendered into English, and
  presented in the sincerest and best way to a very large and
  comprehensive audience. It should be published exactly as you
  might think best for them, and remunerated in any way that you
  might think generous and right. They want no mouth piece and no
  introducer; but perhaps they might have no objection to be
  associated with an English writer, possibly not unknown to them by
  some general reputation, and who certainly would be animated by a
  strong public and private respect for their honour, spirit, and
  unmerited misfortunes. This is the whole matter. Assuming that
  such a thing is to be done, I long for the privilege of helping to
  do it. These gentlemen might consider it an independent means of
  making money, and I should be delighted to pay the money.

  In my absence from town, my friend and sub-editor, Mr. Wills (to
  whom I had expressed my feeling on the subject), has seen, I
  think, three of the gentlemen together. But as I hear, returning
  home to-night, that they are in your good hands, and as nobody can
  be a better judge than you of anything that concerns them, I at
  once decide to write to you and to take no other step whatever.
  Forgive me for the trouble I have occasioned you in the reading of
  this letter, and never think of it again if you think that by
  pursuing it you would cause them an instant’s uneasiness.

                                 Believe me, &c.,
                                                   CHARLES DICKENS.”

In London a Committee for the relief of the exiles was formed, and
large sums were received.

The first letter Panizzi received from Poerio was dated from Cork,
27th of March, 1859. In this there was, however, little beyond an
acknowledgment of a letter received, and expression of gratitude for
the trouble taken on his behalf. Although Poerio, starting from Cork
on the 29th of March, soon joined his friends in London, they had
but little uninterrupted enjoyment of each other’s company for some
time. Invitations poured in for the great exile from every quarter.
Amongst his entertainers may be mentioned Lord Granville, the Duke
of Sutherland, the Marquis of Lansdowne, and the Duke of Argyll.

The following note of invitation from Lord Palmerston must not be
omitted:—

                                                “94, Piccadilly,
                                                    April 1st, 1859.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Come and dine here to-morrow at eight, and bring Baron
  Poerio and Settembrini if he likes to come; and don’t mind the
  date of this note.

                                            Yours sincerely,
                                                        PALMERSTON.”

And Mr. Gladstone wrote on Poerio’s behalf as follows:—

                                                        “April 12th.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Lady Charlotte Egerton asks, through me, Baron Poerio and
  any one of his friends to her party to-night. Pray let them appear
  if possible. They will find me there at 10.15.

                                           Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

This continued dissipation, and the cold of the English climate,
from which he suffered intensely, began to weigh heavily on Poerio.
He was forced by his state of health to refuse many invitations, and
the only other amusement of which we have any record is a visit to
the House of Commons on the 18th of April, under the auspices of
Lord Shaftesbury.

It would be too much to expect that amongst the large number of
sixty-six prisoners, however exalted the political creed which they
might profess, there should not be at least one or two black sheep.
There were certainly some amongst the lower order of these exiles,
with whom Panizzi had a good deal of trouble. Notwithstanding all
his rigid justice in apportioning the money of which he had the
charge, they vexed him much by claiming more than their share, by
accusations of unfairness, and, in some cases, even by the vilest
ingratitude and abuse. Nor did they confine their annoyance to him
alone. Poerio, writing subsequently (3rd of June, 1859,) from Turin,
gives anything but a pleasing account of these gentry who had
accompanied him to Italy:—“I have had a great deal of trouble here
on account of the English subscription in favour of the exiles. One
of them who was destined to receive 250 francs told a great many in
secret that this terrible injustice of classification was all my
work,” with a good deal more to the same effect, on which it is
needless to expend time and space.

But the calls of patriotism were altogether too urgent on Poerio
to allow him to spend very much of his time in London society.
About the middle of May he left for Turin, where he entered on a
long correspondence with Panizzi. Here, for the first time in
these volumes, we are able to present the reader with a
comprehensive letter from Poerio, although short extracts from
others have been given above. His letters are, both in language
and style, the acme of combined nervousness and elegance, and we
can only express our regret that, to meet the exigencies of the
general reader, we are compelled to give this in English, feeling
that by translation the beauty and force of the original must
materially suffer. Most interesting in themselves, but of still
greater value as throwing light on contemporary history, are the
accounts of the sad continuance of disorder and misgovernment in
the administration of Naples; of the various other complications
in the affairs of the Peninsula; the course of action adopted by
the French Emperor in connection with the attitude of the
Sardinian Government, (which last, Poerio seems to consider
occasionally as somewhat hesitating and undecided); and the dawn
of the first possibility of effecting the union of distracted
Italy, in the achievement of which, however, a thousand
difficulties seemed yet to be overcome. Some few necessary
excisions of matter of little importance have been made, but this
has not materially reduced the bulk of the correspondence. Of
Panizzi’s share we unfortunately possess nothing. A good notion,
however, of his opinions on Italian, and (as connected with
Italian) of European politics, as well as of his unwearying
efforts in the cause, and the confidence that his compatriots
rested in his exertions and influence here, may be gathered from
the communications which he received from his friend and others
who had suffered from or witnessed the revolting cruelties
committed for so many years in Naples and elsewhere; but there is
no querulousness, no recalling of the past; every energy, every
aspiration, is devoted to the one glorious object—the unity and
independence of Italy:—

                                       “Turin, 21st of August, 1859.

  “My dearest Panizzi,

          I send you my ideas respecting your project, which would
  be excellent if it were only practicable.

  Your programme, if I mistake not, may be summed up as follows:—The
  formation of a single Assembly of representatives from the four
  States of Central Italy, such assembly to proceed immediately—To
  confirm in common the separate decisions arrived at with regard to
  the deposition of the Princes and the annexation to Piedmont; to
  publish a manifesto to Europe, short, but solemn, energetic, and
  rich in facts which justify this severe but unavoidable
  determination; to nominate a Regent, who shall assume in its
  entirety and in the name of the Sardinian Government the exercise
  of executive power, commencing with the appointment of a
  commander-in-chief to all the forces now under arms, such forces
  to be combined and formed into a single army. After this the
  Assembly would adjourn, leaving the Regent full power to have
  himself represented at the European Congress called for by this
  Assembly, in order to obtain a decision in conformity with the
  solemn vote of the country, and to repel any aggression on the
  part of _anybody_ who might intend forcibly to reinstate the
  deposed Princes.

  First of all I must take exception in _law_ to the _judicial_
  validity of the nomination of a Regent.

  A popular Assembly, legitimately elected, has most certainly the
  right of declaring that the people represented by it intends to
  choose for its Prince the monarch of another State, and intends to
  identify itself with that State. But after this decision has been
  arrived at, the logical and legal order of things would be to
  address that Prince, in order to ascertain whether he is willing
  to accept this free and spontaneous surrender. If he accept, he
  alone can and in fact must nominate an authority to govern the
  annexed provinces provisionally in his name. The Assembly cannot
  do this, because, in proclaiming a new Prince, it invests him with
  the sovereign power. Victor Emmanuel proceeded in this way with
  the Lombards, who submitted to him of their own free will—that is
  to say, he nominated a Governor to rule in his name, neither did
  he act otherwise towards the people from whom he accepted the
  dictatorship. The only exception to this rule is when it is
  _physically_ impossible for the Prince who has been proclaimed to
  speak his mind. It is not so in our case, because the King of
  Piedmont reigns both by right and in deed, and is personally free.
  He is, moreover, at the head of an army, and has made himself a
  champion of the war of independence. It is, therefore, necessary
  to address him. He is not only able, but is bound to declare
  himself openly, and in accepting he will be obliged to provide a
  government for those provinces until an European Congress
  recognizes the fact as accomplished, and includes him in the new
  public statute. Most assuredly no one will ever assert that the
  Congress ought to _compel_ Victor Emmanuel to accept the
  submission of Central Italy, unless he had openly acceded at the
  proper time, and acted frankly in conformity with his utterances.
  Silence in this case might be termed prudent; but it certainly
  would not be very generous, particularly if it be considered that
  these people are determined to fight to the last against anybody
  who would wish to prevent them from _belonging to him_.

  According to your plan, I conclude that King Victor Emmanuel must
  not only accept the surrender and nominate a Vicegerent or
  Lieutenant who will govern under his guidance, but must also
  prepare himself to protect and sustain the annexed provinces to
  the utmost of his power, and at the same time declare himself
  ready manfully to repel any aggression. It would, in truth, not
  only be strange, but indecorous, in a King invoked and proclaimed
  if he were to act negligently and look on with indifference at the
  cruel sacrifice of his new people, who are ready to shed the last
  drop of their blood to preserve their fidelity to him.

  But this sacred duty will not be performed, and it is vain to hope
  for it, because just now a timid rather than a spirited policy
  prevails in the Piedmontese Cabinet.

  I do not wish utterly to condemn it, because I know but too well
  the gravity of affairs generally, and the difficulties of such a
  perilous situation. Possibly the requisite boldness would amount
  to temerity, but it is none the less true that when a man cannot,
  or does not wish to, run any risk or leave anything to chance, he
  has no right to look for brilliant or glorious results, neither
  can he expect to add four millions of people to his own proper
  subjects without incurring any risk, and merely by remaining a
  careless spectator of the dangers to which others are exposed....

  Let us suppose that the Piedmontese Government can do nothing to
  display a large amount of energy and tenacity of purpose; let us
  suppose that, notwithstanding the safe remission, the amalgamation
  of the four States, the single Assembly, and the unanimous
  declaration, are matters of supreme importance to the future of
  Italy, but how can one ever hope for this fusion in the midst of
  such discordant elements? It is true that the four States have
  formed a military confederation for mutual defence, but this fact
  of itself clearly shows that there is no intention of proceeding
  further, and of forming a single State....

  Everybody _apparently_ wishes for the fusion with Piedmont, but a
  great many object to the idea of a single State. Nor do the Romans
  and the Tuscans, who are so different in character, in customs,
  and in aspirations, intend to hold together. The Duchies alone
  really wish for the union with Piedmont. The Romans would in
  reality like a separate government, and the Tuscans who reason
  closely, know that in the actual condition of affairs the fusion
  with Piedmont is impossible, but they pretend to want it (and
  voted _unanimously_ for it only yesterday), because it is for the
  present the only straightforward way of avoiding a relapse into
  the clutches of the Grand Duke and his myrmidons. In fact, when
  they had a chance of accomplishing the fusion, although they were
  advised to take advantage of it, they neither did so nor even
  desired it. Their own Ambassadors in Paris and London (Peruzzi and
  Lajatico) put it on one side, advancing instead a number of
  _schemes_ and solutions, commencing with a Prince of the House of
  Savoy and finishing with Prince Leuchtenberg. The _Times_
  published the document, the _Augsburg Gazzette_ has repeated it
  with evident satisfaction, and they have not denied it.

  Lajatico (as you tell me) now writes in the same way as
  Marliani—that is, for the formation of a single Assembly which is
  to repeat the vote for annexation to Piedmont, forgetting that
  Parma has no Assembly, and on account of the unfortunate
  dissensions and paltry points of honour between the two rival
  cities of that nutshell, poor Manfredi has been obliged to have
  recourse to a _Plebiscite_; that, moreover, to escape from the
  machinations of an Armelonghi, who wanted to supplant him, he has
  been compelled to call upon Farini to act as Dictator, For my own
  part, I think that henceforth neither Marliani, nor Peruzzi, nor
  Lajatico, nor Linati will be able to persuade the people or obtain
  the one single Assembly as proposed by you. But even conceding
  that our respective friends fully approve, and supposing that
  everybody consents, also that there is an unanimous declaration of
  the desire to become Piedmontese, that Europe is called to witness
  it, and that a _sole_ Regent is appointed (a matter of
  considerable difficulty in view of the passions, and ambition, and
  rivalry, and suspicion aroused), and conceding, moreover, that
  everything should go on according to a preconceived idea, let us
  see what would in all probability occur in actual _practice_.

  Your dilemma is this: by such an arrangement you either succeed in
  convening an European Congress, which will deliberate upon the
  present _abnormal_ and disturbed condition of central Italy, or
  the failure will at least be glorious. In the first case,
  therefore, you only rest upon a hope, and a hope that is
  evaporating daily, since France at heart does not _so far_ wish
  for the Congress, and I do not see who is to force it on her.

  I must say that Lord John Russell’s noble declaration to the
  effect that England does not intend to take part in any Congress,
  unless the bases of peace and rearrangement of Italy are different
  from those defined in the preliminaries at Villafranca, so that
  room may be left for discussion, does great honour to his high
  political capacity; but his declaration does not in the smallest
  degree further the possibility of this European Congress,
  particularly if it be borne in mind that those preliminaries are
  now being reduced at Zurich, to a definitive peace upon still more
  onerous conditions, and with the intervention of Sardinia.

  The first part of the dilemma being disposed of, the second
  remains. I fully agree that in fighting manfully the fall will be
  glorious, but this glory will belong solely to the combatants, and
  will redound to the perpetual ignominy of Piedmont, which is
  condemned by some of its antecedents, and is perhaps obliged by
  dire necessity to remain a quiet though armed spectator of the
  struggle. The same Piedmont that has nevertheless assumed the
  magnanimous task of the redemption of Italy: that Piedmont which
  is the only State possessing the backbone of national strength;
  that Piedmont which contains in itself the fortunes of the Italy
  of the future, and to which we must all at least give our moral
  support, so that it may not utterly lose its reputation by too
  openly showing either its present impotence or the paltriness of
  its policy of partial aggrandizement—a policy which is, perhaps, a
  supreme necessity of the novel _situation_ wherein an imprudent
  peace has placed it.

  But let us see whether there is not a third hypothesis besides
  these two, and perhaps something even more probable, because I
  consider it certain that Central Italy cannot _all_ be annexed to
  Piedmont, and likewise certain that France will not consent to the
  forcible restorations.

  I maintain, in fact, that there will be no restorations at all,
  and my opinion is not shaken either by Reiset’s journey or by the
  mission of Poniatowski, nor even by the reception of one of the
  fugitive Princes at the Tuileries. I hold that the Emperor will
  permit the convocation of the Assembly devised by you, exactly as
  he has allowed the gathering of the local Assemblies and the
  record of their votes in favour of Piedmont.

  But will this fact create any necessity for a Congress? Herein
  lies the essential part of it. You dare not make the assertion,
  and I tell you most distinctly that the Congress will never take
  place. But what will occur instead? Precisely that which Napoleon
  is now preparing with so many twists and turns—namely, the
  formation of a Central Italian State, of which his cousin will be
  the monarch—a State that will be located upon the two seas, and
  that will cut Italy in halves, putting an end to all communication
  between the Sardo-Lombardian States and that of the Two Sicilies,
  and excluding for ever any hope of future aggrandizement.

  The means for arriving at this end are simple. He will praise the
  high-minded proposal, but will lament its impracticability. He
  will recall to mind the preliminaries of Villafranca, and the
  consent that was given for the restorations, and he will make it
  appear that those conditions can be modified in the Zurich
  negotiations (which depend solely upon him for their continuance),
  but never in the sense of annexation to Piedmont. He will have it
  whispered in the ears of those in power that in order to elude the
  ravenous claws of eaglets they will have to confide themselves to
  the care of the Imperial Eagle. Montanelli and his set (who did
  not abstain from voting for Piedmont without a reason) will then
  come forward.

  They will have a long train of people prepared for the purpose,
  and the Prince will be trumpeted forth from all corners. They will
  demand universal suffrage, and Napoleon, son of Jérome, will be
  hailed King of Etruria....

  Now, what am I to do in such a deplorable state of affairs? Exiles
  in general are not treated with much consideration, particularly
  when they want to give gratuitous advice. Everyone naturally says,
  here is a man who was not able to preserve his own country
  wanting, forsooth, to teach others how to save theirs; and there
  are certain people going about those provinces (especially some of
  my compatriots with whom I should not like on any account to be
  confused.) Altogether (take note of this) I am suspicious of the
  very persons that I ought to see, and I cannot trust the sincerity
  of their assurances. Besides Farini, Minghetti, and Ricasoli (the
  three men upon whom things entirely depend) have been already
  advised from your place, and have received their instructions from
  Marliani and Lajatico.

  My journey would create a heap of absurd rumours without resulting
  in any advantage, seeing that I shall certainly not succeed in
  persuading them, if they will not be persuaded, and if, after all,
  they are already convinced, the trouble would go for nothing.

  But to what conclusion does all this lead us?

  In Italy itself you will never be able to combat Napoleon’s policy
  as long as Italy remains in its present condition—that is to say,
  while he keeps Piedmont subject to continual pressure, occupies
  Lombardy with eighty thousand men, is the sole arbiter of affairs
  in Zurich, holds the Pope with vain hopes in a state of
  uncertainty, and caresses the Bourbons of Naples, lending them
  courage to resist the representations of England.

  It was perhaps a great error to have invoked his aid at all, and I
  do not intend to disguise the fact; but the error of the Tory
  Cabinet in allowing him to come alone was certainly greater. It is
  not now a question of expelling him, because this could not be
  brought about without war, and everybody has either had enough or
  is averse to it.

  It is merely a question of limiting his influence, in the same way
  that the war was localised. We must give him a fragment in order
  to save the remainder, strengthening this Subalpine Kingdom and
  perhaps the Southern Kingdom too, at the expense of the territory
  of the Pope, whose temporal dominions cannot last any longer. But
  this Southern Kingdom must cease to be the prey of a party that is
  so infamously reactionary, and the civil government must be
  restored upon the basis of true liberty. This particular change,
  which will infuse new spirit into the life of Italy, is not
  difficult of attainment _now_ that the true Mayor of the Palace
  and virtual King is Filangieri, a man of large and tractable
  conscience, if those metallic wires which actuate it are properly
  manipulate.

  But all this cannot be originated in Italy. In order to obtain
  such a result we must work elsewhere, and work with all our might.

  A plan will be submitted to Lord John Russell by a person who is
  exceedingly well versed in Italian affairs, and whose political
  instincts are of the highest. This plan is admirable in its
  simplicity, and not difficult to carry out if there be hearty
  goodwill towards the work, and it be taken in hand at once....

                                    Yours most affectionately,
                                                      CARLO POERIO.”

On the 22nd of May, 1859, Ferdinand II., King of the Two Sicilies,
died. The news of his death was not received with that universal
burst of lamentation which follows when the world at large has
suffered an irreparable loss. Indeed, it is painful to relate that
throughout a considerable portion of the Christian and civilized
world the sad tidings were even welcomed, and with an unseemly
manifestation of rejoicing; not a few seeming even to be of opinion
that a great obstacle of Christianity and civilization had at length
been mercifully removed.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                             CHAPTER XXIII

_Italian Unity; Victor Emmanuel II; War of 1859; Farini; Cavour;
    Correspondence; Poerio on Southern Italy; Sir James Lacaita;
    Visit to Turin; The Biographer._


Perhaps only when Italy shall have given proof of her fitness to
hold her own amongst the Powers of Europe will the chain of events
which has led to the accomplishment of Italian Unity be fully
appreciated. True, these events are recent, and require the
mellowness of time to impart to them due historical importance. As
time progresses, however, the story of United Italy will attain
significance; and there is reasonable hope that the new kingdom,
hitherto not too harshly tried, will also attain that healthy
maturity of which its youth has given promise. To forge the links to
bind these discordant States into one, wars, external or internal,
have succeeded each other; but, whilst assigning due weight to
fortune without, it would be ungracious to stint the praise of the
workers from within, whether we regard the mild wisdom of the school
of patriots, whereof Poerio, Settembrini, and Panizzi were examples,
or the reckless valour of more ardent revolutionists, valour which,
it must be granted, was not without its uses when occasion demanded,
and which in its excess was skilfully controlled by one of whom it
were but faint commendation to say that amongst all the records of
eminent statesmen, his superior could not easily be found.

Our observations have shown that Panizzi did not confine his love of
country to that part of Italy wherewith he himself was most
intimately connected. Having achieved his mission in favour of
liberty in the South, we now (1859) find him turning his attention
to the North of the Peninsula. By way of introduction to our account
of his proceedings in this quarter, it may be well to give a short
epitome of the events of the year in question, when the first
foundations of Italian unity may be said to have been laid.

Victor Emmanuel, on succeeding to the throne in consequence of his
father’s abdication, enjoyed the reputation of an experienced and
intrepid soldier, yet was not in other respects a general favourite
with his people. Nor was unpopularity at home the only difficulty in
his way. When, after the fatal day of Novara, he received the crown
from Charles Albert, who resigned it not until he had vainly sought
honourable death in battle, he swore to avenge the wrongs of Italy,
and to uphold the free institutions of his own realm. For this he
had to reckon both with Austria and Naples, who, with unparalleled
effrontery, called upon him to govern his kingdom in such a manner
as should be in conformity with the mode of government in the other
States of the Peninsula. To such a demand the King did not deign to
listen, and his opponents were forced to be content with denouncing
Sardinia as a hot-bed of sedition and revolutionary agitation. In
the beginning of 1859 Victor Emmanuel, who, in his speech to
Parliament, had remarked on the threatening appearance of the
political horizon, commenced preparations for war against Austria.
The circumstances which precipitated the war are too fresh in the
recollection of our readers to be dwelt on here to any length.
Cavour, on the part of Sardinia, was under promise to England to
make no hostile demonstration against Austria. France had declared
that she would aid Sardinia only in the case of the latter being
attacked. The preliminaries to an European Congress were actually
under discussion, when the Emperor of Austria suddenly broke off all
negotiations, and demanded of Sardinia an immediate disarmament, a
summons which was treated by Cavour with contempt. At this juncture,
Austria, with that peculiar aptitude for blundering which has so
characterised her action, sent, in the night of April 28-29, 1859,
her armies across the Ticino, thus affording an occasion of action
whereof the two allies were not slow to avail themselves. The French
troops hastened to cross the Alps. Battle followed battle with
uniform success to the allied arms, when, like a thunderbolt, news
of the Peace of Villafranca fell on Europe. Unexplained at the time,
the reasons for it soon came within the range of tolerably accurate
conjecture. In the first place the eagerness with which people of
the other States in Italy prepared to unite themselves with Sardinia
(which Cavour had foreseen, but which had failed to strike Louis
Napoleon,) was hardly to the taste of the French Emperor. Whatever
were his objects in the war, the unity of Italy was certainly not
one of them. He had employed his army, and thereby diverted his
people; he had gained a satisfactory amount of glory, though perhaps
not so much as his ambition led him to hope for. In his victories,
(though it were hard to apply to them the epithet _Pyrrhic_,) he had
undoubtedly sustained greater loss than his adversary; and he
possibly thought it as well to refrain from following the Austrians
to the strong position to which they had retired, and from whence
not all the armies of Italy, Sardinia, and France united could in
all probability have succeeded in dislodging them. His fortitude and
forbearance were, however, as all know, not without their
substantial reward.

                                -------

It is ours, not to write history, but simply to supply aid to its
study; and these may, we hope, be afforded, to the reader by the
somewhat varied correspondence of which this chapter will mainly
consist. The several writers quoted are at any rate worth listening
to, and not least among them Luigi Carlo Farini, the Dictator,
well-known as the friend of Mr. Gladstone, a letter from whom (dated
March 18th, 1859) comes first in order on our list:—

  “... Times are so serious that my mind is filled with anxious
  thoughts. Yesterday the Austrians blew up the bridge at Buffalora.
  It is all very well for our friend Hudson to say they will not
  attack us, but surely they strike us in our honour by violating
  our property with their treaties.

  “I should like to see what John Bull would do if they attempted to
  mine his house. Even yesterday they expelled from Milan one of our
  most esteemed staff-officers, Cav. Incisa. Such acts are committed
  daily, but we must console ourselves by seeing how the whole of
  Italy is giving a new and great example of unity and strength. Ten
  thousand volunteers are coming from all parts of Italy; it is a
  crusade; _your_ Modena has sent more than all the other States,
  considering its extent (a thing which cannot be seen without
  emotion). The stupefied Governments have lost strength. National
  rights reign supreme in public opinion. My dear friend, awful
  events are at hand. We count much upon your advocating our cause
  in England.”

  “The noble Neapolitan exiles, for whom the English people so
  justly feel, may prove the means of advancing the common cause.
  Let them only say that Neapolitan tyranny is not of native, but of
  foreign growth, and in order to chastise Bomba, it will be
  necessary to chastise Vienna. Let us hope they may say so, for it
  is the unvarnished truth.”

That Panizzi rated the strength of Austria and the Quadrilateral at
its proper value, and considered that the Italians were about this
time _in trepidis rebus_, is plain from the following letter to Mr.
Haywood. It bears no date, but evidently must have been written
(from the British Museum) just before the conclusion of the war:—

“These Italian affairs have, as you may suppose, made me feverish.
First of all, I think the Austrians are not quite done for yet,
although I think they will be. Even in these times of wonder I don’t
believe they can have lost Vicenza and Mantua, and if the whole
country is not really up, the King of Piedmont will find these two
very hard bits. That they are yet in the Austrians’ hands I argue
from the fact of Radetzky’s troops retiring in two columns towards
them—what is more, taking with him political prisoners, which shows
he is not quite defeated. Even when Mantua and Piacenza are taken,
there is the pass of Caldiero, fortified in an awful manner, as I
have seen myself, and such fortresses as Legnano, Peschiera, and
Verona, in which fifty thousand men can defy three times the
number.”

“If the Tyrolese are up to the whole of the Venetian territory, the
Austrians may find it awkward, as they are out of favour here, and
they may not have either time or the means of victualling their
forces. But between us I do not very much like the peasants to take
up arms in earnest, even if they join in a popular movement at
first. They must enrol themselves, and that I do not think they will
do. I foresee, therefore, great difficulties, and at all events
great fighting. Yes, and depend upon it the French, if they last as
a republic, or even have a Bonaparte, will interfere. As to myself,
what can I do? I am more than fifty, and not a soldier, and what
they want now are young men ready to shoulder a musket or to
command.”

“In the second place, I am almost certain that the Italians will
differ among themselves (not as to the Austrians, or as to being
dismayed, but as to the form of Government.) The King of Sardinia
had no chance to keep his crown but by acting as he has done, as
they would have proclaimed a republic in Lombardy with the help of
the Swiss, and he would have had a revolution in the same sense at
home. But the spirit of the ‘Giovine Italia’ is at work there, and I
think there will be yet a great deal of trouble before the form of
government is settled. My views you know, and I fear I should have
no one listening to me, and the utmost I could expect would be to be
looked upon as a crazy Angloman. In the third place, I have hardly
any friend alive who would care for me, or on whom I could have
influence. I am a greater stranger in Italy than here.”

Towards the middle of the year, Panizzi himself visited the scene of
action, whence he wrote a graphic account of affairs in the North of
Italy to Mr. Gladstone, in a far more cheerful tone than that of the
last letter quoted:—

                                         “San Maurizio, near Reggio,
                                           September 4th, 1859.

  “My dear Sir,—

          ... I went to Bologna to see the opening of the Assembly
  last Thursday, and I hope to give them some good advice as to the
  wording of the resolutions which are to be proposed to-morrow,
  proclaiming the independence of Romagna. On Thursday I shall go to
  Parma again to assist at the opening of their Assembly. I am now
  staying with some distant cousins at a villa which Ariosto, who
  lived here, had celebrated.

  I cannot tell you how gratified I am at what I have seen ever
  since I came to this part of Italy, on Monday last. The order and
  quiet which prevail everywhere are only equalled by the unanimity
  with which every man, woman, and child is determined not to submit
  again to the fallen Government. I am happy to see that the
  determination is supported by large numbers of volunteers who
  flock to enlist: they come not only from the towns but from the
  country; and at night, since I have been here, I have heard a
  variety of songs in dialect in praise of Garibaldi and his
  soldiers, ridiculing the Austrians and the late Duke of Modena, in
  very expressive although in not very polite terms. I have seen
  persons who are well affected to the Duke—the cousins at whose
  house I am staying, and to whose family the Archbishop of Modena
  belongs, amongst them—and one and all say that a restoration of
  the fallen dynasty would be a great calamity. Here, in fact—at
  Parma as well as Bologna—the universal wish is to be united to
  Piedmont. The organization of the recruits proceeds with the
  greatest rapidity, and the instructors (old soldiers) are struck
  by the military qualities displayed by the population. The
  Republican and Mazzinian agents are secreted everywhere; still I
  think that the only danger to be feared is that if things were to
  continue long in this state of suspense, with hardly any
  Government in fact, anarchists might cause mischief, although not
  triumph ultimately.

                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

[Illustration]

  “I have just heard that the Austrians, most of them dressed in the
  uniform of the Duke of Modena, are gathering their forces to cross
  the Po, and come to the right of it.”

Amongst the numerous letters in our possession, written by Count
Cavour to Panizzi, the most important and interesting, and at the
same time the most truly characteristic, both in form and substance,
of the great Statesman, is one dated the 24th of October, 1859. It
was written from Leri, Cavour’s country seat. Thither he had,
immediately after the war, retired for a time from public life, and
with a heavy heart; for the obscurity in terms and apparent
treachery of the Peace of Villafranca, had affected him with a
torturing suspicion that he had been betrayed. It is something of a
tribute to Cavour’s greatness that Rattazzi, who succeeded him, was
fain, in his embarrassment in carrying on the Government, to seek
the counsel of his predecessor, the flame of whose patriotism
(however deeply wounded his own feelings may have been) burnt as
brightly in his retirement as in office, as it needs but the
following letter to show:—

                                          “Leri, October 24th, 1859.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          Your letter of the 17th inst. was only delivered to me
  yesterday, too late for me to answer it then. I hasten to do so
  this morning, though I fear that my reply can hardly reach London
  before the question of the Congress shall have been decided.

  In the present state of affairs, considering the engagements
  entered into at Villafranca and to a certain extent confirmed at
  Zurich by the Emperor, it appears evident to me that an European
  Congress is indispensable. Were there to be no Congress, and were
  France to prevent the egress of Central Italy from the provisional
  condition by opposing the stipulated fusions, those countries
  would be exposed to serious dangers. The eminent men in the
  Romagna—and there are many such there—might incite Garibaldi to
  attempt an enterprise in the Marches and perhaps even in the
  Abruzzi; at Modena the occupation of the trans-Padan Mantuan
  territory by Austria—an inevitable consequence of the treaty—might
  give rise to lamentable collisions; Tuscany perhaps might be more
  patient of an uncertain condition, but even there the intrigues of
  the reactionaries supported by the priests would probably be the
  cause of serious perturbations. Hence the interests of Italy
  absolutely require a Congress, and, if this is plain, England
  should participate therein both for her own honour and for our
  benefit. Austria will not oppose her intervention, but will accept
  her reservations when it is stipulated that nothing is to be said
  about the provinces retained under Austrian dominion. It is hard
  for us to renounce a plea in favour of unhappy Venice; still we
  must repress our deep sympathies for fear of sacrificing the
  possible for the desirable.

  Austria, relieved of apprehension respecting Venice, ought to
  concur in the English maxim that the wishes of the Italians should
  be respected. To put this in more diplomatic form it would be
  sufficient to say that the Powers undertake not to impose by force
  of arms any form of Government on the people of Central Italy.
  This is the principle of non-intervention already proclaimed by
  the Emperor in his writings and in his speeches. Supported by
  France and by England, and perhaps by Russia too, it will soon be
  admitted by Austria and accepted by Prussia.

  Passing on to the constitution of the Congress, I do not hesitate
  to declare for the exclusion of the minor Powers. If only the
  Duchies and Tuscany were concerned their intervention would be
  advantageous; but as the most difficult—I will say too the most
  important question—is that of the Romagna provinces, I fear the
  Pope would find vehement defenders in Spain and in Portugal.

  The Congress once assembled, there can be no doubt as to the
  course of England. She would first of all propose that the wish of
  the people legally expressed should receive the sanction of
  Europe. Supposing this proposition to be rejected, the next would
  be that the people be consulted by means of universal suffrage, to
  be verified by the members of the Congress. This proposal would
  find support in France, and would probably be accepted. If it were
  not, England would have to enter into a negative phase, and to
  withstand the proposals of Austria and that of France too. The
  Duke of Modena being abandoned by every one, even his own
  relations, there will be nothing to oppose but the restoration of
  the House of Lorraine in Tuscany, the installation of the Duchess
  of Parma at Modena, and the re-establishment of the Papal dominion
  in the Romagna provinces.

  Such resolutions as these may be resisted, not only on the ground
  of the popular rights, but also, and still more efficaciously, in
  the interest of the monarchical principle, and with reference to
  ideas of order and stability. Unless we wish to see the now
  stifled revolution revive, menacing and powerful, it must not be
  confronted by feeble Governments without root in the soil,
  destitute of both physical and moral force. If we wish to see
  thrones respected, we ought not to fill them with despised and
  despicable princes, whose very names are in irritating antagonism
  to the sentiment—the national sentiment—now dominating in Italy.
  If the Grand Duke or his son return to Florence, then, in less
  than a month, Tuscany will be the head quarters of Mazzini and of
  the belligerent revolution. Perhaps it will be said that the
  Duchess or Parma is a strong-minded woman, and is not
  unappreciated. However this may be, the so hateful remembrances of
  the father could not be effaced, nor could confidence be inspired
  in the son. Besides, the system of compensations which some would
  wish to apply in favour of this branch of the Bourbon family is in
  direct collision with the sentiments and the ideas which now
  prevail in Europe. The Modenese would be smitten in their dignity
  if they found themselves allotted by way of jointure to the widow
  of that rascal, the petty Duke of Parma. Better for them the
  restoration of their former Sovereign. In that case they would be
  victims of a false principle; but they would not be treated as a
  flock of sheep, disposed of as a counterbalance for conditions
  deemed onerous by one of the contracting parties.

  The Treaty of Vienna is odious enough in many parts; but it is not
  so odious as that of Campoformio.

  With regard to the Romagna provinces, it will be easy for England
  to get the idea of papal reforms scouted. To entertain such an
  idea is worse than hateful—it is ridiculous. There is no need to
  be either a great statesman or a great theologian to feel
  convinced that the Pope not only does not wish but really cannot
  consent to serious reforms. So long as he is Pope and King he must
  in conscience employ the powers of the King to enforce the decrees
  of the Pontiff. The separation of the two authorities is
  impossible. The Pope cannot consent to the freedom of instruction,
  nor to the freedom of public worship, nor to the freedom of the
  press. He cannot tolerate municipal freedom unless this be
  understood as an authority of the Town Councils to regulate at
  will the public roads and the manner of paving them. The Pope as
  Pope will more easily submit to the loss of a province than to the
  promulgation of the Napoleonic Civil Code in his States. The Papal
  restoration ought to be prevented at every cost: it is not only an
  Italian question, but one of European interest. It concerns us,
  but it also concerns England, Prussia, even Russia, and all
  countries where the development of civilization is an object, for
  this requires as an essential condition the absolute separation of
  the two Powers. If the Pope should obtain a victory in Italy, the
  presumption and the pride of the Cullens and the McHales would
  swell beyond bounds, and Europe would be menaced before very long
  with the danger of religious struggles similar to those of past
  ages. Let everything be given up rather than sacrifice the Romagna
  provinces. Their cause is, I say again, the cause of civilization.

  If England should succeed in warding off the Austro-French
  proposals, let her reproduce those which she originally brought
  forward: and if these do not prevail, let her propose the
  immediate union of Parma and Carrara with Piedmont, and the
  establishment of a Government, provisional but strongly
  constituted, to rule over Florence, Modena, and Bologna.

  These are my views: take them for what they are worth. Far away
  from the turmoil of affairs, and having but slight relations with
  the Ministers, I am probably unaware of many things which might
  modify my opinion. Still, judging the question of Central Italy
  from the data which history in some way impresses upon our minds,
  I am strongly of opinion that if England were to follow the part
  which I have traced, she would succeed in the object of assuring
  the destinies of Central Italy to our advantage and her own glory.
  Farewell, my dear friend. Continue the advocacy of our cause
  before the noble English nation, and your efforts will not be
  fruitless. I say again now what I said to the Chamber and to Italy
  in February—the statesmen who have ennobled their career by
  accomplishing the emancipation of the negroes will not bear the
  condemnation of Italy to eternal slavery.[G]

                                         Most truly yours,
                                                         C. CAVOUR.”

The next letter to Mr. Ellice (to whom, as there was no one whom
Panizzi so much loved and respected, he never lost an opportunity of
communicating both the intelligence he received and his own comments
and opinions thereon) is lively and amusing, and contains much
matter within a small compass. The observations on the Rattazzi
Government probably in no wise exaggerate its defects:—

                                         “B. M., October 29th, 1859.

  ... I can tell you for certain there will be a Congress about
  Italy in which England will take part. The Emperor of the French
  feels he is in a scrape, and urges England to help him out of it,
  and our Government are inclined to help him under certain
  conditions, England wanting him in return on some other account.
  He has accepted as explicitly as possible England’s terms, and
  hitherto he has kept his word to her; if he does not break it, the
  Government are quite satisfied that all will go well for Italy.
  Indeed, if England and France act together, there is no doubt
  their policy must prevail.”

                                -------

  “As to the Italians themselves, there is too much softness in
  Piedmont on the part of the Government; the King is the only man
  who dares; his Ministers are miserable little bureaucrats. We must
  have a change there, and Cavour must come back; and this is what
  our Ministers wish. The people of central Italy, who have given
  themselves up so heartily to Piedmont, are tired of the prudence
  of the King’s Government, which does nothing for them, and there
  is great fear that they may break loose, and, taking the matter in
  their hands, rush on the Pope’s soldiers or the Rubicon, whom they
  will rout to a certainty. The whole of the Umbria and the Marches
  will rise at once; they have been quite ready to do so for two
  months past, and it is with difficulty they are kept quiet. If
  they rise, and the soldiers of central Italy (Garibaldi is to lead
  them) rush in, you may be certain that the kingdom of Naples will
  be in a flame. Garibaldi with ten thousand men, Romagnuoli, will
  conquer the whole kingdom down to Reggio. The proclamations of
  Garibaldi, which you will have seen two days ago in the papers,
  are ominous. In Italy I did my best to keep him quiet, and so did
  other friends; but I now see he is taking the _mord aux dents_,
  and no wonder. The King of Sardinia has sent for him, but as he is
  no longer in his service it is thought he may, under some pretext
  or other, respectfully decline the summons. A revolution at
  Naples, or its invasion by Garibaldi, would just now be very
  disagreeable to the English Government, as the question of change
  of government, both in the kingdom of Naples proper and in Sicily,
  might be brought on the tapis, and then you easily foresee a great
  imbroglio—greater than any that has hitherto taken place, as far
  as English interests are concerned.”

  “I understand the ministers are quite united with each other, and
  all pleased with Lord Palmerston, of whom Mr. Gibson has spoken to
  a friend of mine not long ago. Lord Palmerston and Lord John are
  particularly united together; this I know from the latter.
  Gladstone, I am also told, runs quite straight. The Court is quite
  Austrian, and, were it not for fear of this trio, would probably
  try the Tories again. There is a conspiracy of crinolines in
  favour of the Duchess of Parma, the Empress of the French, and the
  Queen of Spain. The latter wanted to send ten thousand men to
  assist the Pope, but France and England have put a veto on that.”

This may be fitly succeeded by two more letters from Panizzi to Mr.
Ellice. To each reader’s judgment and discretion may fairly be left
the decision whether the historical parallel in the second of these
is thoroughly correct, and whether either Elizabeth or Cromwell had
much notion of religious liberalism, or defended Protestantism on
the ground of its being the liberal religion.

                                          “B. M., January 4th, 1860.

  “... All the diplomacy in the world will not bring back either
  those d—d Dukes or the Pope, and the provinces whence they have
  been expelled. If Napoleon sticks to the point of not allowing any
  _armed_ intervention in their favour, the legitimate Sovereigns
  are dished. But, it is said, he has some interested motive if he
  act so. I suppose he has; so much the better if his interests
  coincide with the interests and wishes of Italy. It is a pity no
  one else has the same interest; but, if no one will do the trick,
  even he is welcome. I see that after all he is the only one who
  does something for that country. If the Pope and Austrian
  influence are done for, what is to come after it is of less
  importance. If the European powers will aid and abet Austria in
  keeping Venice, and in preventing a united kingdom of North Italy
  being formed under Victor Emmanuel, I am sorry for it, but they
  cannot complain if Plonplon is preferred by the Italians to the
  Austrian and priestly tyranny. Better Austria than the Pope, but
  better Plonplon than either. That is the scale.”

                                           “B. M., April 21st, 1860.

  “... How could you suppose that I ever could have said that
  Elizabeth and Cromwell interfered to support _Catholicism_? My
  answer was, and is, this:

  “Europe is now in about the same state with respect to politics as
  it was in Elizabeth’s and Cromwell’s times as to religion. These
  two personages did not follow the policy which is now so much
  praised of taking no side with either party, but showing the
  greatest indifference to right or wrong. England, I think, has not
  reached the lofty station it now occupies, by adopting this
  policy; nor will she keep that position by such means.

  “In the same manner that Elizabeth and Cromwell took the side of
  liberalism in religion (Protestantism) England ought now to take
  the side of liberty in politics, and she would thus rise still
  higher.

  “In 1848 England allowed liberty to be crushed everywhere; she
  even allowed Russia to lend an army to Austria to crush an old and
  constitutional kingdom. See how the Protestants are now treated
  all over the Austrian Empire; how the Jesuitical party is rampant
  in Germany and in Ireland; how Europe is crouching to Napoleon. Is
  this to the advantage of free Protestant England?

  “Now, suppose, instead of proclaiming her determination to keep
  aloof (which neither Elizabeth nor Cromwell would have approved)
  the Government of Queen Victoria has told Russia and Austria that
  if Despots were to join to crush liberty, free governments would
  support those who tried to recover their freedom, do you think
  England would now be worse off?

  “If, instead of cheering Austria on to crush little Piedmont,
  whose great crime was to support the principles of civil and
  religious liberty, England had stood by those principles as she
  ought, do you think Napoleon would now stand as high as he does?

  “Austria would never have dared to act as she did, had she not
  been encouraged by the then English Government; and the war which
  has given Savoy and Nice to France would never have taken place if
  England had done something for the cause of freedom. That position
  which now Napoleon occupies would have been occupied by England to
  her manifest advantage, and to that of mankind.

  “When the Protestants were hard pushed at La Rochelle, Elizabeth
  did not stand by looking on, nor did her Parliament talk so much
  as ours does. When the poor Vaudois were persecuted by the Duke of
  Savoy, Cromwell was not so squeamish about non-intervention, but
  sent word to Mazarin to make the Duke understand that the
  persecution _must_ cease—and it did cease.

  “Compare those times with ours, and then laugh, if you can, at my
  political notions. When do you return?”

Two months after the date of the last-quoted letter, Panizzi
received an interesting account of Southern Italy from Poerio, which
is subjoined:—

                                             “Turin, June 1st, 1860.

  “My dearest Friend,

          While I have been waiting for an answer to the letter
  which I wrote to you from Florence, new and unexpected events and
  new complications have arisen, demanding the prompt and energetic
  co-operation of everybody who is devoted to our cause.

  Therefore I am forced to have recourse to you as one of those few
  who, to a fixed determination of aiding their country, add by
  their own personal importance the capacity of doing good upon an
  extensive scale.

  Palermo has fallen, and the National idea is triumphant throughout
  the island.

  Of course there are many obstacles to be overcome. Nevertheless
  before long that noble region will be irrevocably lost to the
  Bourbons, and regained for Italy. But what will become of the
  seven millions of Italians who still groan beneath the detestable
  tyranny of the Bourbons? It is now said that the Government, in
  order to gain time (as it did in 1848) intends putting on the mask
  of liberalism, and retains the Count of Syracuse as the principal
  actor in this impudent farce. He has a few adherents, and is not
  wanting in desire to represent a Louis-Philippe in miniature.

  In the meantime the Mazzini set are agitating because they know
  that of the whole Italian territory the Southern Provinces of the
  peninsula are best adapted to their designs.

  Neither are the partisans of Murat standing idle, but are working
  effectually in the army with the most seductive promises.

  Finally, there is the Subversive (Sanfedista) Party, of the purest
  race, who would like to reserve for Naples the fate of Palermo,
  and who have decided to put the whole country to fire and pillage.
  You see, therefore, that there are four parties, all fairly
  strong, and all hostile to the true National Party, which solely
  desires the unity of Italy under the constitutional sceptre of
  King Victor Emmanuel. Any one who has any experience in political
  matters will easily understand that for this National Party to
  engage in the struggle with any hope of success it must be
  provided with ready means, otherwise the remaining divisions will
  pre-occupy the field, and the country, after going through twelve
  years of the most cruel despotism, will fall into civil war, and
  thence into the most frightful state of anarchy. The danger is
  imminent, and the remedy must be prompt. The numbers who have
  decided to undertake the enterprise amount to several thousands;
  but the pecuniary resources are most limited. Besides, it must be
  borne in mind that if delay is disastrous, to enter upon the task
  with insufficient means would be still more so, since a failure
  would lend strength to a detested Government, which is now
  tottering under the weight of its crimes, and which could never
  stand against a well-supported effort. In this state of affairs
  your political friends, of whom you have so many in that noble
  country, ought not to let slip this favourable occasion for
  assisting us—an opportunity which cannot again present itself, and
  of which others will avail themselves, to the eternal prejudice of
  Italy, unless steps be taken in time to prevent it. Nor do I think
  that they ought to be influenced by certain restricted views which
  several of them wish to put forward.

  The only solution of the question is really the _Italy of the
  Italians_, which, far from compromising the peace of Europe, would
  serve to consolidate it by removing a continued incentive to
  foreign ambition. Once decide upon a policy of non-intervention,
  and the struggle between the two principles in Italy can neither
  be long nor sanguinary.

  The liberal party in Europe will then count one more truly
  independent state, which will make its principles respected, and
  will certainly contribute both to their triumph and to the general
  development of civilization.

  The Bourbons will be crushed, and to the great benefit of every
  one, since their detestable Government is incompatible with
  Italian independence. The most disastrous error of the times would
  be that of wishing to maintain them on the throne at any cost,
  because it would outrage the moral sense of the whole of Italy.
  Neither do I see the necessity of supporting and bolstering up a
  race which is the very incarnation of perjury. If the Bourbons
  were to remain in Naples, even with a fictitious constitution,
  they would sooner or later be supplanted by a Napoleonic régime.

  Enthusiasm evaporates in time; but if we now follow up this
  terrible current which urges the main stream, Italy can be
  rendered free and united. If, however, the opportunity is allowed
  to pass, dualism, with all its terrible consequences, will be the
  result.

  A thousand greetings to our friends! I embrace you heartily, and
  am ever

                                      Your most affectionate friend,
                                                      CARLO POERIO.”

While on the subject of Southern Italy we may remind our readers
that there has been frequent mention made above of a gentleman, who,
as a constant friend and correspondent of Panizzi, and as a
prominent personage in Neapolitan matters, demands some further
notice. Mr., afterwards Sir James Lacaita, was, previously to the
year 1850, legal adviser to the British Legation at Naples. In this
position, by his great official capacity, and by his well-proved
exemplary character, he succeeded in gaining the friendship of Sir
William Temple. He had the further good fortune to make the
acquaintance of Mr. Gladstone, at the house of Lord Leven, who was
spending a winter at Naples. This acquaintance soon ripened into
intimacy, a consequence which was almost a matter of course, for
Lacaita was well fitted to win the confidence and attract the liking
of those who, themselves possessed of merit, could discover and
value merit in others. Endowed with distinguished abilities, and a
master of the English language; in political matters of sound and
matured judgment, and (as will hereafter be seen) of unassailable
honour and integrity; such very exceptional characteristics soon
marked him out for invidious distinction by the partisans of King
Bomba. On the 26th of December, 1850, he was arrested in the street
as a dangerous person and thrown into prison. All his papers were
ordered to be examined in his presence; but, Sir William Temple
having requested the “Attaché” of the Legation, Mr. Fagan, to claim
as many of these as possible in the name of Her Britannic Majesty’s
Government, a large proportion was thereby saved.

A certain note, however, which originated in a mere joke, was
detained, and turned out to be the innocent cause of serious
trouble. Previously to his arrest, Lacaita, in conjunction with Lord
and Lady Leven and their three daughters, had planned a tour for
eight days to La Cava, Salerno and Amalfi. In sportive mood it was
laid down by the “tourists” that no authority of one over the other
was to be recognised amongst the members of this party, and to
distinguish nominally the perfect freedom and equality of the
society, they dubbed themselves the “Republic.” It must have been
with mingled feelings of indignation and gratification that the
police discovered amongst the confiscated papers a note written by
Lady Anne Melville, after the return from the tour, containing the
words, _Will you come to tea, and talk over the grand Republican
days?_ In vain was it explained to the authorities that the note had
no political significance, but the suspicious adjective was merely
playful reference to the little temporary republic of “tourists,”
and to no dangerous revolutionary organisation.

Either lacking a natural sense of humour, or holding jocosity to be
impossible in so grave a matter as anything _Republican_ in the then
state of Italian politics, they altogether rejected this, to them,
fanciful interpretation. The letter was registered (it is still in
the archives of the Criminal Court of Naples), and formed one of the
chief grounds for the charge of sedition and conspiracy brought
against Lacaita.

In the summer of 1860, Cavour, well aware of the negotiations that
were being carried on between England, France and Naples, and
desirous of obtaining some trustworthy person to watch his
interests, and supply him with information—and being, moreover,
unable, for reasons which may be easily understood, to charge his
own Minister, the Marquis d’Azeglio, with the mission—applied to
Lacaita, who, on receiving the message, although laid up with severe
illness, immediately rose from his bed and went straight to Lord
Russell’s house. His Lordship, having an engagement with the
Neapolitan Minister, had given direction that no person whatever
should be admitted. Sir James, however, being intimate with the
family, managed to see his Lordship, and was able there and then to
turn the current of affairs in a totally different direction, and to
prevent the French Ambassador Count Persigny, and his Neapolitan
colleague the Marquis La Greca, from carrying out their plans. Had
it not been for Sir James Lacaita’s prompt and skilful intervention,
England would doubtless have been remitted to the position she had
held in 1848.

Nothing now remained to those whom Lacaita had thus thwarted but to
win him over to the side of Francis II., and this it was thought
might be effected by offering him the post of Minister at the Court
of St. James’s, in the room of Count Ludolf. The chief instrument
employed for the conversion of this dangerous opponent was Signor
Giovanni Manna, the Neapolitan Minister of Finance, who was now at
Paris, whither he had been sent to negotiate a loan. Manna, who was
a personal friend of Lacaita’s, started from Paris in August with
the sole object of persuading him to accept the offer; holding out
as a further inducement to a change of opinion a considerable bonus,
besides a not insignificant salary and the title of Marquis, which
might well be regarded as superseding the inferior rank of
knighthood which had already been conferred upon him.

The unification of Italy was regarded by most politicians of the
time, Lacaita included, as, to say the least of it, a remote
possibility. To the King’s offer, and the numerous advantages
accompanying it, Lacaita simply replied, _This is bribery_. In this
conclusion he was supported by the advice of two distinguished
statesmen, Lord Lansdowne and Mr. Gladstone, and by a letter from
Panizzi (dated Homburg, 23rd of August, 1860), which did not reach
him until a few days after his refusal of the post:—

“... I willingly comply with your request, and frankly give you the
advice which you ask on the point which you truly describe as
delicate and knotty—that is, whether you ought to accept the
appointment as Minister of His Sicilian Majesty at the Court of St.
James’s.

“As Minister of that King you must first of all oppose the
enterprise of Garibaldi, who wishes to unite the whole of Italy
under one sole head, and if that head should be Victor Emmanuel,
you, Sir James Lacaita, would have to support an abominable and
cruel scion of an execrated race against the only Sovereign who has
shown that he is an Italian; in fact, you would have to help in
cutting up Italy. I do not presume to judge those gentlemen who have
undertaken to serve his said Neapolitan Majesty; but they were on
the spot, had served—at least some of them—the dynasty, and perhaps
had not duly considered before they accepted their posts. But are
you, who are free, and in your sober senses, to serve a Bourbon like
him of Naples? Are you to stand by the side of those who proclaimed
martial law?—you to join a Government which now shoots down the
noblest Italians who have liberated Sicily from a detested yoke? No
one _cui sanum sinciput_ can believe that the King of Naples is to
be trusted, when he gives utterance to the sentiments which he now
pretends to profess, and every one who is not bereft of sense knows
and feels that the man is still the faithful and true ally of
Austria, the tool of the harsh stepmother, the blind and abject
slave of the priesthood which has made Rome a sewer. And would you
give your honoured name, your influence, your talents to a man
without affection and without faith like that King? My dear Lacaita,
that name, that influence, those talents belong to Italy and to an
honourable King, not to a schismatic party—not to a perfidious and
treacherous perjurer.

“I use strong expressions: the case justifies them. You may show
this letter of mine to any one you please, and tell what I think
without any reserve whatever!...”

In September, 1860, Panizzi paid another visit to Italy, of which,
and of the condition of affairs in that country, he gave an account
in the two following extracts from letters to Mr. Ellice, written
after his return.

Some remarks on the evil which Garibaldi’s mistaken zeal was likely
to produce on the state of Rome and on the French Emperor are well
worth reading. The “confabulation” with the King at Turin, mentioned
in the first letter, at which Cavour was present, was held in a
stable with great secrecy. Only such passages are given as bear most
directly on the history of the time:—

                                               “B. M., Oct. 5, 1860.

“... I have seen and had long confabulations with the King at Turin,
and with the Emperor at Paris. I can tell you that Garibaldi, who
seemed to have lost his senses, and who was surrounded by a set of
scamps who made a fool and tool of him, honest fellow! will by this
time have made an _amende honorable_, and submitted to the King, or
be put down.

“Be assured that Cavour and the rational party in Italy (that is
ninety-nine per cent. of the population) are not such fools as to
attack Austria. It is owing to the threats of Garibaldi, the French
Emperor having undertaken to preserve from injury or insult the
person of the Pope, that the French garrison at Rome has been
increased. But that garrison will not defend any part of the Papal
territory except what it actually occupies; and should the Pope
leave Rome, as he was on the point of doing ten days ago, the French
will withdraw, and the Sardinian army occupy Rome.

“The note or letter of Lord John to Cavour has _disgusted_ many and
surprised all. I think it was written of his own accord, and perhaps
without the knowledge of his colleagues. He who has been so long a
consistent friend of Italy write such a letter, when the Government
of the King of Sardinia was supposed to be in difficulties, and was
in fact so! Those are the acts which make even the French Emperor
popular, and which, by encouraging the despotic party in Germany,
may kindle a war.... There will be no anarchy in Italy, and the
Emperor Napoleon _may be relied on_.

“Nothing serves more in France than English abuse. Of this I am
certain, and I have most curious proofs. I am also positive that he
is personally a firm friend of England, and that he has more to do
than people suppose to quiet the _Anglophobia_ of the French.... I
had the pleasure of seeing prisoner of war at Turin, that worthy
companion in arms of Monsignor Lamoricière, Monsignor Schmidt, he
who butchered people at Perugia where he was obliged to surrender at
last. It was delightful to see the provoking indifference with which
the Piedmontese looked at him.... Cavour wanted to make a present of
several hundred Irishmen taken prisoners to the English Government,
but the present was respectfully declined....”

                                            “B. M., Oct. 11th, 1860.

“... I am astonished to see the Paris correspondent of _The Times_
allowed to write as he does about the King of Sardinia and his
Minister. His misrepresentations are all directed to disparage them
all and so far favourable to Austria. In to-day’s number that
correspondent, in order to throw discredit on Cavour’s statement,
said that he was not to be believed, as he had asked _Savoy_
although he had promised not to give up any part of the Piedmontese
territory. The King is represented as _swearing_ and _mad_ with rage
whenever the cession of Savoy is mentioned. Now I have spoken to the
King about this transaction, and have most respectfully said things
which were, from their nature, calculated to irritate. The King was
not irritated, he was not in a rage, and did not swear; he spoke
with great moderation, and with great feeling. I was struck with
it....”

Our budget of correspondence, which has been resorted to more
copiously than was at first intended, may be closed, so far as this
chapter is concerned, by a letter from Panizzi to Mr. Gladstone,
which is given in its entirety:—

                                          “British Museum,
                                                November 27th, 1860.

  “My dear Sir,

          Your letter has filled me with apprehension for poor
  Italy, and with gratitude for your warm interest in her cause. I
  felt reason daily to mistrust the conduct of my Paris
  interlocutor, and I am the more afraid, seeing that you, too, feel
  there is reason for mistrust. When the conduct of the fleet at
  Gaeta was first known, I wrote to say that it was suspicious, and
  at variance with recent professions. My letter went through the
  Minister to St. Cloud, and I received from my friend with whom the
  correspondence was carried on the enclosed answer, which please
  return. Lord P. has seen it, but no one else. I was not satisfied,
  and I wrote again to my friend to say so, but he is not in Paris,
  and he had to send my last letter from the country to Paris. He
  has since written that the Minister would be glad to correspond
  chiefly with me; but now he is out, and my communications are
  stopped. Nor do I know how I could reach St. Cloud without it
  being known to many who ought not to know it. The appointment of
  Walewski and that of Flahaut portend no good to Italy and to the
  English alliance. If this interference by sea and by land
  continue, it is evident that it is intended to allow a civil war
  to kindle in Italy, to have a pretext for interfering, not
  certainly for the good of the country. Is it possible that the
  three Emperors and the supporters of the Pope and of despotism in
  Germany have agreed to settle matters to their own advantage,
  leaving Prussia, England, and Italy out? Allowing Russia to act as
  she thinks best in the East, France on the Rhine and in Italy, and
  Austria in the outer provinces of the Turkish Empire, close to
  Hungary! It is an extravagant supposition, but the conduct of
  France is still more so.

                        Believe me always,
                               Yours most sincerely obliged,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

The author is well aware that nothing short of his long-standing
intimacy with the subject of this “Memoir” could justify the
introduction into the work of anything approaching egotism, unless
it were to illustrate an essential point in the character of which
he is treating; but in writing of the year 1860, recollections crowd
upon the memory which he trusts his readers will excuse him for
committing to paper. In that same year he (then a boy of thirteen)
was sent, under the charge of a Queen’s Messenger, from Naples to a
school in England. Arriving in London, he was most kindly received
by Panizzi, and well remembers his first interview with one who was
thenceforth to be his staunchest friend. Not that this was the first
time that the latter had bestowed his good offices upon the family
of the writer, whose eldest brother, now Major Fagan, owes and
acknowledges a debt of gratitude for the kindness received at his
hands in youthful days, and up to the time of receiving his
Commission and starting for India in 1859.

But pleasant and important as it would be, for some reasons, to
dwell upon many happy reminiscences of uninterrupted intercourse
with a pre-eminent man, the task which is here undertaken leads us
to more serious matters relating to that period, and that yet remain
to occupy the space which should be devoted rather to the
information of our readers than to a recital of personal
recollections.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XXIV

_England in 1859; Relations with France; First Visit to Biarritz;
    Napoleon III; Letters from Gladstone, Mérimée, Fould and
    Ellice._


The formation of a new and extensive kingdom, as might have been
expected, was a question of too deep moment not to exercise an
important, though indirect influence on England’s relations with
States nearer and more powerful than Italy. It is purposed in the
present chapter to deal with events more immediately affecting this
country rather than Italian politics. England, in 1859, did not
occupy her former high and stable position amongst the nations of
Europe. Her late struggle with Russia had taught her a lesson which
had not been neglected; she had gained strength it is true, but not
in such a degree as to render altogether unwarrantable the
disparaging taunts in which certain foreign Statesmen indulged at
her expense. ‘Of a truth,’ says the prince of comic writers, ‘wise
folk learn a good many things from their enemies’ (Aristophanes, The
Birds 1, 387), and well do the words apply to England, who then
learnt wisdom from her foes. Bitter experiences in the Crimea taught
us the miserable insufficiency of our military system, and already
action had commenced for future improvement. Regarding, not
unreasonably, with some feeling of alarm the threatening aspect of
Continental affairs, we had at last opened our eyes to the knowledge
that the dispersion of the troops retained in the country over all
parts of the United Kingdom (and of these, many, in the sister isle,
employed on what may be considered as little better than police
duty) was not the policy most adapted to secure home defence, or to
maintain that army in the fittest condition for service abroad. It
was in the year 1859 that the Volunteer force of Great Britain,
which, with the exception of one solitary battalion, had been
extinct since the beginning of the century, was revived, or, to
speak more accurately, sprang up into a fresh existence: indeed, in
the succeeding year the movement acquired strength so rapidly as to
appear before the nation as an army, imperfect naturally and
undeveloped, but giving such promises of efficiency as have since
been so fully and amply ratified.

It is not our intention to enter on the subject of reforms in the
regular army which ensued, nor is there any necessity to detail all
the circumstances which led England to turn her attention to her own
safety, and in the interests of this to set her house in order. The
causes for apprehension may have been exaggerated, but that they
were altogether without foundation is incredible. It is indisputable
that after the cession of Nice and Savoy to the Emperor of the
French, disquieting rumours as to his further intentions were
afloat. His next project, it was said, was the annexation of Geneva,
and among other means of aggrandisement which he contemplated, one
was an advance of the French frontier to the Ebro, in exchange for
which Spain was to receive aid and support in the subjugation of
Portugal. These designs of the Emperor were not only freely
discussed in society, but set forth in pamphlets apparently stamped
with Imperial authority. Lord Palmerston watched with much misgiving
the great additional military and naval preparations on the part of
France, and to him they were a source of grave anxiety; nor must
these rumours, magnified and distorted as they may have been, be
regarded by us with contempt, when it is known that such keen
observers, and acute politicians, as the Prime Minister, Mr.
Gladstone, and Panizzi himself, viewed them with perturbed
reflections.

In this year (1860), Panizzi, for the first time, had been invited
by His Majesty Napoleon III. to spend his holidays at Biarritz, in
company with his old friend Prosper Mérimée. Correspondence of much
importance is here adduced, and is given in full, as bearing upon
the suspicions and presages of evil already referred to. The first
letter in order is from the pen of Panizzi to Mérimée, and from it
may be gathered all that is needful of the dreaded omens which
threatened to disturb the peaceful relations existing between
England and France, whose alliance involved the peace of the whole
civilized world, whilst its rupture would throw broadcast the seeds
of dissension and of war. The letters themselves indicate the close
relations between the two correspondents, and their intimacy, will
be reverted to hereafter:—

                                    “British Museum,
                                            Sept. 30 (Sunday), 1860.

  “My dear Mérimée,

          ... I have been so fortunate as to have an opportunity of
  at once communicating to a very influential personage the chief
  points of the conversation I had the honour of holding with the
  Emperor respecting the want of cordiality, not to say coolness,
  now unhappily prevailing between France and England, my object
  being humbly to contribute, as far as might be in my power, to the
  growth of better feelings. I have dwelt on the earnestness with
  which His Majesty had expressed himself with respect to the
  English alliance, and on the warmth with which he had spoken of
  his affection for this nation. I did not fail to repeat what His
  Majesty had said of his consciousness of never having done a
  single act which could be construed as injurious or even
  unfriendly to England; of his feeling that he had most
  scrupulously fulfilled his duties as an ally; of his having
  nothing so much at heart as to be on the most intimate terms with
  this country, feeling confident that that would be for the
  advantage of both France and England, whilst it gave him,
  personally, heartfelt satisfaction.

  What I said was extremely well received, and the same wish was
  expressed as that which had been expressed by His Majesty, that
  the two countries should always act cordially together; that His
  Majesty would find England most desirous to cultivate an alliance
  so eminently advantageous to both nations, provided that could be
  done without sacrifice to England’s honour and interests, and that
  on this side of the channel they were not aware of ever having
  given France any just cause of complaint. But that many things
  created the impression that France, not satisfied with the eminent
  position in which she was placed, was striving to extend her
  influence and possession beyond what was just and fair towards her
  neighbours. In support of this impression a great many facts were
  alleged. It was stated that Savoy and Nice were annexed not only
  against the most explicit professions to the contrary, but on
  pretence that would justify any other annexation of territories
  that France might covet. I was, moreover, told that France,
  knowing how injurious it might be to English interests to alter
  the territorial arrangements on the coast of Barbary with
  reference to Gibraltar, had nevertheless encouraged an unjust
  attack on the part of Spain or Morocco; that France was favourable
  to the fall and partition of the Turkish Empire, well-knowing that
  England would oppose this consummation with all her might; that
  agents were traced to Belgium and other parts, endeavouring to
  create a party in those populations favourable to the annexation
  of territories now belonging to other States, to France; that
  agents had even been found at work in Ireland, that the number of
  pamphlets published in France directed to prepare the world for
  extensive territorial alterations in favour of an enlargement of
  the French Empire, and the belief that many of such pamphlets were
  published with the approbation, if not at the instigation of the
  French Government, rendered them apparently an indication of the
  intentions of that Government. It is only necessary, in
  conclusion, to advert to the great, constant, and progressive
  armaments of France, both by land and by sea. As to the latter,
  Englishmen are convinced they cannot be directed to any other end
  but eventually to offensive warfare, especially against England.
  France, they say, cannot want for any defensive purpose so large a
  navy as she has, to which she is steadily adding; and it is
  obviously for aggressive purposes that she drills her sailors and
  troops to embark and disembark with rapidity and precision, and
  that she builds vessels intended for the transport and landing of
  large bodies of soldiers. It depends on France, I was told, to be
  on the very best and most intimate terms with this country, that
  is, by not acting in a manner which excites well-grounded
  suspicions of her intentions. There is every disposition on the
  part of England to meet her more than half way, but if the acts of
  the Imperial Government are not calculated to inspire confidence,
  it will be impossible for England not to be on her guard, and
  prepare herself for any contingencies. As to the accusation that
  England encourages other powers to coalesce to attack France, I am
  told it is utterly unfounded. It is positively denied, moreover,
  that there is any intention of forming any coalition, or even of
  coming to an understanding for the purpose of injuring France. It
  is, however, admitted that nations who watch the conduct of France
  are uneasy for their own security, and that they will probably
  come to some understanding should it ever come to pass that France
  becomes aggressive.

  In conclusion, I was told, the peace of the world as well as the
  happiness of mankind, is in the hands of France. If she will not
  attempt to injure others, no one will think of injuring her; and
  so far as England is concerned, if France will be satisfied with
  what is fair and honourable, she may rely on the sincere desire of
  this country of being on the best terms with her, and of her
  acting accordingly.

  You are at liberty to show this letter to the Minister, and even
  to place it in his hands should he wish to show it to his august
  master, who ought to know exactly by what feelings and motives
  political men are moved in this country towards France.

  A good understanding with England must be of some value to France.
  She has raised the storm; she must do her best to allay it if she
  have at heart the English alliance.

  I hope you will be authorised to answer this letter in a manner
  that will prepare the way to a lasting return of cordiality on
  both sides.

                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

M. Mérimée’s reply partakes much of the style of the special
pleader. Whilst he strongly disclaims his belief in the Emperor’s
bad faith, as suggested by Panizzi, his defence of Louis Napoleon
seems hardly inconsistent with the truth of certain of the
allegations. He himself appears to have considered his criticism of
English policy the strongest point in his letter:—

                                     “Paris, Samedi 6 Octobre, 1860.

  “Mon cher Panizzi, ...

          En attendant, vous saurez que je ne suis revenu de voyage
  que hier soir, où j’ai trouvé votre lettre. Je l’ai portée ce
  matin chez Son Excellence. Je vois que les dispositions de Lord
  Palmerston sont telles que je me les représentais, c’est-à-dire le
  contraire de bienveillantes, mais je ne me doutais pas qu’il _dit_
  la moitié des choses extraordinaires qu’il vous a dites. Dans
  l’exposé de ses griefs il y a une bonne partie de faussetés
  complètes auxquelles il n’y a qu’un démenti formel à donner. Puis
  il y a des niaiseries que je ne me serais jamais attendu à
  entendre dans la bouche d’un homme d’Etat ou soit-disant tel. Par
  exemple, cette bonne bêtise que la France médite une invasion en
  Angleterre, parce que dans des ports de mer on exerce les soldats
  à embarquer et débarquer promptement. Il me semble que, lorsque
  dans l’espace de deux ans on a eu cent cinquante mille hommes à
  débarquer en Italie, douze mille à débarquer en Chine, six mille à
  débarquer en Syrie; quand, de plus, la plus importante de nos
  colonies, l’Algérie a une armée de cinquante mille hommes qui ne
  communique avec la France que par mer, il me semble, dis-je, qu’il
  n’est pas inutile d’apprendre aux soldats à entrer dans un
  vaisseau et à en sortir. Quant aux armements, vous pouvez dire
  hardiment qu’il ne s’en fait point. On donne des congés de
  semestre dans tous les régiments, et, à mon avis, _on a tort_,
  attendu l’état des choses en Italie. Les armements maritimes sont
  aussi faux que les préparatifs de l’armée de terre. Si vous voulez
  lire la brochure que je vous ai portée, vous verrez la vérité sur
  tout cela. Le pauvre Louis-Philippe avait laissé dépérir la
  flotte. De plus on est dans une époque de rénovation et il est
  nécessaire de transformer les bâtiments à voiles. Je conçois que
  l’Angleterre veuille avoir le monopole de la mer, et qu’elle y
  tienne, mais elle l’aura toujours, attendu qu’elle dispose d’un
  bien plus grand nombre de marins que toute autre puissance. Nous
  avons eu des escadres d’élite qui, sous les ordres d’un chef
  excellent comme l’Amiral Lalande, auraient peut-être battu une
  escadre Anglaise, mais si, en gagnant une bataille, nous perdions
  mille matelots et les Anglais dix mille, nous ne pourrions réparer
  notre perte, tandis qu’en un mois l’Angleterre trouverait dix
  mille autres matelots aussi bons. Il me paraît par trop bouffon de
  la part de Lord Palmerston de dire que l’Angleterre ne cherche pas
  et ne cherchera pas à former une coalition contre la France, et
  d’ajouter aussitôt que les puissances inquiètes _will probably
  come to some understanding_! Une autre assertion non moins
  extravagante, c’est de nous accuser d’avoir encouragé l’Espagne a
  faire la guerre au Maroc. J’étais en Espagne au moment où cette
  guerre s’est faite, et s’il y a à Madrid un ministre anglais avec
  des yeux et des oreilles, il aurait pu dire que la guerre a été
  faite par l’explosion du sentiment national, et que les lettres de
  Lord John Russell ont eu pour résultat d’exalter ce sentiment et
  d’exciter à la haine contre l’Angleterre. Il n’est pas moins
  étrange de prétendre que la France qui a aidé l’Angleterre à
  retarder la destruction de l’empire Ottoman, pousse maintenant à
  sa ruine. Vos ministres sont comme les malades qui ne veulent pas
  que leur médecin leur dise que leur état est grave. Ressusciter ou
  même faire vivre longtemps la Turquie est impossible, et il serait
  insensé de se quereller sur les remèdes à lui donner, lorsqu’il
  faudrait au contraire s’entendre sur la manière de l’enterrer. Que
  la France ait de l’ambition, je ne le nie pas. C’est une idée ou
  plutôt un préjugé national, qu’elle s’est amoindrie en perdant une
  partie des conquêtes de la révolution. Je crois que l’Empereur ne
  partage pas ce préjugé, mais, en tout cas, dans l’hypothèse qu’il
  l’aurait, vous ne le supposez pas assez dépourvu de bon sens pour
  risquer d’avoir toute l’Europe sur les bras, sur la chance d’ôter
  cent cinquante mille âmes à la Bavière et autant à la Prusse? Ce
  que la France gagnerait en étendue, elle le perdrait en
  homogénéité, et, tout considéré, elle s’affaiblirait au lieu de
  prendre des forces. Ce qui me frappe surtout dans la politique
  anglaise de notre temps, c’est sa petitesse. Elle n’agit ni pour
  des idées grandes, ni même pour des intérêts. Elle n’a que des
  jalousies et se borne à prendre le contrepied des puissances qui
  excitent ses sentiments de jalousie. Le résultat est de diminuer
  son importance en Europe et de la réduire au rôle de puissance de
  second ordre. En ménageant la chèvre et le chou comme elle a fait,
  en observant la neutralité peu impartiale entre l’Autriche et la
  France, elle n’a obtenu l’amitié ni de l’une ni de l’autre. Y
  a-t-il quelque chose de plus misérable que sa politique à Naples
  et en Vénétie? Comment M. de Rechberg peut-il avoir la moindre
  confiance en des gens qui encouragent Garibaldi et Kossuth et qui
  ne veulent pas l’affranchissement de la Vénétie? Tout se fait en
  Angleterre en vue de conserver des portefeuilles. On fait toutes
  les fautes possibles pour conserver une trentaine de voix
  douteuses. On ne s’inquiète que du présent et on ne songe pas à
  l’avenir. Il est certain qu’il y a dans ce moment en Europe un
  malaise général qui amènera une catastrophe et une grande
  modification de la carte. Des hommes vraiment politiques, voyant
  le mal, chercheraient le remède. Vos ministres ne pensent pas à la
  guérison du malade. Ils veulent conserver la maladie. Cela est
  digne de vieillards qui n’ont que quelques années devant eux, mais
  je doute que les grands ministres du commencement de ce siècle
  eussent pensé et agi de la sorte.

  Je viens d’un pays où l’on est très dévot et où la catastrophe de
  Lamoricière a fait une grande sensation. J’ai vu des gens fort
  piteux et fort découragés, mais nullement dangereux. Je vois que
  Garibaldi se soumet et va reprendre sa charrue. Il fait bien. Son
  affaire est de se battre, et il n’entend rien à organiser. Il
  parait que le gâchis est grand en Sicile et à Naples, et qu’il est
  parvenu à faire regretter le gouvernement déchu. Cependant il
  parait que tous les gens sensés sont unanimes pour croire que
  l’annexion est le seul moyen de rétablir un peu d’ordre pour le
  moment. Je trouve qu’il y a de l’habileté dans les ménagements de
  M. de Cavour pour Garibaldi, mais j’aurais voulu le voir un peu
  plus énergique au sujet de Mazzini. Je crains que les reproches de
  Lord Palmerston, qui, entre nous, me semblent dénoter peu de bonne
  foi, ne produisent pas un très bon effet sur l’Empereur. M. Fould,
  que je n’ai pas rencontré ce matin, en sera, je pense, très
  irrité. Je lui ai laissé un mot en le priant de ne faire aucun
  usage de cette lettre avant d’en avoir causé avec moi. Vous
  pouvez, quand vous en trouverez l’occasion, assurer hautement que
  s’il y a eu en Irlande quelques menées contraires au Gouvernement
  Anglais, elles sont l’œuvre de nos Catholiques et que le
  Gouvernement de l’Empereur n’y est pour rien absolument.

  Adieu, mon cher Panizzi, portez-vous bien et ne m’oubliez pas
  auprès de nos amis.... J’espère encore que le pape s’en ira un de
  ces jours.

  Tout à vous.

                                                        P. MERIMEE.”

We next offer Mr. Gladstone’s opinion of England’s relations with
France, and would draw attention to the sense of security pervading
his expressions in a letter to Panizzi. How these sentiments were
modified at a later date will be shown further on:—

                                    “11 Downing Street,
                                              Whitehall,
                                                 October 16th, 1860.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I return all; but I have not, I think, completely
  deciphered M. Mérimée’s important letter. If there is a flavour of
  bitterness in it, I cannot deny that it may be in some degree due
  to us. Instead of saying anything akin to what is complained of, I
  will merely point to topics of consolation, such as follow. In my
  opinion, under the present Ministry, no coalition will be formed
  against France. The English nation is really Italian in feeling;
  and in proportion as France is the same will there be a broader
  and firmer ground for concord and co-operation. The foolish alarms
  which have been unhappily prevalent in this country are abating by
  degrees. They implied a most extravagant compliment to France, and
  a compliment that I for one grudged her not a little. Lastly, the
  Commercial Treaty, if the work be completed by the French
  Government in the spirit of courage, sagacity, and good faith with
  which it has been begun, will, by processes all the more safe
  because they are quiet and gradual, lay the most solid foundations
  of active goodwill between the two countries. How much I desire
  that goodwill I can hardly tell you. France and England are the
  two really great Powers of Europe; and two such forces, if they
  move in severance from one another, cannot but disturb the
  political system. The case of Savoy and Nice was, as I think, an
  unhappy one; but if on the one side it may be said that it was
  exceptional, and if on the other calm reflection must admit that
  it has been made too much of, then every day that passes over our
  heads will have its healing power. On the whole, unless we have
  new faults and follies, we ought to do well in this all important
  matter.

                                   Yours most sincerely,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

  “I shall look anxiously for your next. In answer to a question
  which you reported about me, you might have said with truth that I
  am now denounced as one of the most dangerous and revolutionary
  characters in England.”

Panizzi’s letter of September 30, above-quoted, was forwarded by
Mérimée to M. Achille Fould, and in due course he replied,
commenting on it. As the correspondence would be incomplete without
this, it is inserted, but the contents scarcely call for any special
remarks on our part.

(For “Ferdinand,” _infra_, read “François.”)

                                                  “4 Novembre, 1860.

  “Mon cher collègue,

          En vérité notre ami Panizzi, ou ses honorable
  interlocuteurs ont une singulière idée du caractère de l’Empereur.
  S’il fallait attacher de l’importance aux propos que vous transmet
  M. Panizzi, Machiavel ne serait qu’un enfant naïf auprès de
  Napoleon III. Pendant que nous faisons des efforts pour calmer
  l’irritation de l’Espagne, et arrêter son zèle pour la cause de
  Rome, c’est l’Empereur qu’on accuse d’avoir sous mains provoqué le
  rappel de la Légation Espagnole de Turin, et je le sais de la
  meilleure source, rien n’est plus faux que cette dernière
  supposition. Ce qui est vrai, c’est que nous avons essayé d’agir
  dans un sens tout à fait opposé à celui allégué. Voilà pour
  l’affaire d’Espagne.

  Quant à l’envoi de notre flotte à Gaeta je conviens qu’il y a une
  sorte de contradiction dans notre conduite; mais elle est bien
  plus apparente que réelle. Les explications diplomatiques ont déjà
  été données sur ce point. L’envoi de la flotte a été purement une
  affaire de sentiment et d’humanité. Si cette mesure manque de
  logique elle ne peut pas être taxée de parjure. La meilleure
  preuve de notre sincérité, c’est que nous avons immédiatement
  désillusionné le Roi de Naples, à qui la présence de nos vaisseaux
  avait donné des espérances mal fondées, en lui refusant de faire
  avancer un corps de troupes à Terracina, comme il nous le
  demandait. Je crois savoir que Ferdinand (François) II., s’apprête
  à profiter de notre flotte pour quitter Gaeta. On ne pourrait
  vraiment pas reprocher à l’Empereur de s’être laissé toucher par
  le malheur de ce jeune souverain et la situation de la famille
  dont il est entouré.

  Quant à la question d’alliance entre la France et l’Angleterre
  pour régler le sort de l’Italie je ne sais que vous dire. Cela me
  parait pour le moment prématuré.

                                    Mille bonnes amitiés,
                                                     ACHILLE FOULD.”

Now follows the exposition of Mr. Gladstone’s modified views, set
forth in two letters. From these we gather that, on further
observation, he had come to regard the conduct of the Emperor of the
French, both in Italy and elsewhere, as somewhat more than
equivocal, and as calculated to engender strife, and threaten the
existing peaceful relations of the two countries:—

                                                     “Nov. 26, 1860.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          You know, and therefore I need not describe, the spirit in
  which I received your recent communications respecting certain
  conversations which you held in Paris, and in which I have looked
  upon the acts of your interlocutor. But since I saw you his
  conduct has really become so equivocal that I do not see how it is
  possible for one who pursues it to expect that he should retain
  confidence, much less that he should remove mistrust.

  The seizure of Terracina is defended, if at all, by a plea which
  seems little short of ridiculous—I mean strategic necessity for
  the defence of Rome.

  But there is a construction for the act alike obvious and
  rational—namely this, that disturbance is to be prolonged in
  Southern Italy, under the notion that the establishment there of a
  nation and a kingdom is an evil, and that every chance is to be
  kept open of averting it.

  It seems intended to facilitate the escape of the soldiers of King
  Francis into the mountain districts of the Regno, and to make
  those districts the focus of resistance to Victor Emmanuel.

  This construction is supported by the incomprehensible conduct of
  France with respect to Gaeta.

  If Victor Emmanuel could be conceived anxious to get hold of
  Francis and his family, then we could also conceive the duty or
  the policy of baffling him; but it is impossible that the French
  Government can entertain such an idea.

  To keep open Gaeta on the side of the sea is to prolong suffering
  and bloodshed for the present—fear and insecurity for the future.
  Such a policy, if it be a policy, appears inhuman. I admit that,
  notwithstanding the unhappy affair of Savoy, and especially of
  Nice, the great acts done by France for Italy last year have
  rendered to that country an inestimable service. I do not enter
  into any comparative question as between the path pursued by
  France and that taken by England. I assume no right to be her
  judge. I merely write in the interest of peace, and of a fervent
  desire that there should be constant and cordial goodwill between
  France and England. Whatever susceptibility my countrymen may have
  shown, a consistent course on the part of the French Emperor with
  regard to Italy would have been acknowledged by them. They were
  utterly thrown abroad by the terms of Villafranca; but they,
  perhaps, did not then make sufficient allowance for difficulties,
  and they were pleased to see that Zurich was an amendment upon the
  prior proceeding. But what is it possible to say or think or urge
  when the Sardinian force is only permitted to conduct one-half a
  siege, and when (as I am told) the French have either secured the
  passage, or themselves actually carried provisions into Gaeta?

  Before these unhappy proceedings, the English mind was getting
  rapidly clear of its prepossessions. The publication of the
  Treaty, in which the Emperor has behaved so admirably, will do an
  infinity of good—or will, at any rate, lay the ground for it—and
  this will grow as the terms of it are better understood. Why is an
  opportunity to be made for the light-minded and the evil-minded to
  point to other ambiguities or conduct on questions in which it is
  of such vast importance that France and England should have a
  common feeling?

                                     Believe me,
                                              Sincerely yours,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

                                     “11, Downing Street,
                                                   Whitehall,
                                                      Nov. 27, 1860.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          I return the letter you sent me. It was, I think, quite
  capable of a good construction on Nov. 4, when it was written; and
  the writer tells us he had then learned that Ferdinand, evidently
  meaning Francis, was about to use the French Fleet as a means of
  escape. By this time he must have pretty well unlearned that piece
  of knowledge, and the character of the act, I think, stands out
  such as I described it yesterday. I impute no Machiavelism, or ism
  of any other kind. What I have been saying to every one all this
  year has been, _Give the Emperor’s acts a fair construction_; but
  a fair construction of _these_ acts unhappily lends to them a
  rather foul aspect. I entirely withhold even now my belief from
  any such notions as those which you describe in your last page,
  and I do not take these false strokes of policy as indications of
  a plot extending far beyond them. They may be due to uncertainty,
  and to apprehensions of the future Italy; such as are, however,
  quite unworthy of a country so able and so certain to hold its own
  as France. But they are alike deductions from the glory it has
  won, evils in themselves, menaces to the general peace, and
  sources of mistrust _here_, such that as far as they go make it
  impossible to deny that the feeling is legitimate.

  As to my interest in Italy, I wish it could be one-tenth part as
  useful as it is true. She has been to me for the last eighteen
  months a principal cause, not only of joy and satisfaction, but
  even of the desire for political existence.

                                   Yours sincerely,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

The substance of these two letters was forthwith communicated as
follows by Panizzi to Mérimée:—

                                        “B. M., 29th November, 1860.

  “... Shortly after my return I informed Mr. Gladstone of my having
  had the honour of conversing with His Majesty, and told Mr.
  Gladstone of the great interest with which the Emperor spoke of
  him. This gentleman was much pleased with what I told him, but was
  of opinion that certain actions had been unjustly judged, and felt
  confident of the loyalty of the Emperor; and, notwithstanding the
  conduct of General Goyon at Viterbo, and of Admiral Barbier de
  Tinan at Gaeta, he still adheres to his former opinions.

  “But yesterday Mr. Gladstone sent me a long letter, in which he
  tells me how he deplores the conduct of the Imperial Government at
  Gaeta, at Viterbo, at Terracina, and, in fact, everywhere; and
  which almost confirms what he has constantly tried to make people
  disbelieve. He is much mortified. I answered him, but from a
  second letter received this morning, I feel I cannot conceal the
  sudden change in Mr. Gladstone’s convictions. And if so firm a
  partisan of the Emperor has changed, think what the effect must be
  on those who have always suspected the Emperor.

  “As His Majesty placed so much confidence, and justly so, in the
  sentiments of Mr. Gladstone, I have thought it right to inform him
  (H.M.) of this change and its cause, and this I do entirely at my
  own risk, hoping that something will be done, in order to restore
  to His Majesty the confidence of those who, here, are his real
  friends. As for myself, I am at your disposal.”

The following letter to Count Cavour, the only one in our
possession, will serve to show Panizzi’s opinions of the real intent
of the policy of Louis Napoleon towards Italy—an opinion not, in our
own judgment, destitute of considerable support from facts:—

                                               “British Museum,
                                                    7th of December,
                                                           1860.

  “My dear and distinguished Friend,

          You are already aware that I wrote to let the Emperor know
  of the bad impression which his conduct was producing here, and
  that Mr. Gladstone, who had always defended him, was beginning to
  feel it impossible to trust in him, especially after what he did
  at Gaeta.

  The Emperor has read my letter, and has given me to understand, in
  answer, that his feelings are the same as they were two years ago:
  that he still wishes to promote the independence of the Italian
  nation, and ever so many fine things of that sort, which amount to
  nothing. But there is in the answer a passage of considerable
  importance, which I copy:—'The Emperor replied to me that all that
  has been done was done in concert with the King’s Government, and
  that it would be wrong to hold him alone responsible for what has
  happened. The King is quite aware of the Emperor’s ideas on all
  that has taken place; and he knows, moreover, what the Emperor
  ardently desires above all.’ I know not what to think of this.
  Neither the King nor his Government can have approved either the
  conduct of Guyon or that of Barbier de Tinan, of which I specially
  complained. How is all this going on? I don’t know, and cannot
  stomach it.

  My rejoinder was that if the matter stood as thus reported to me,
  I could not but confess that the King’s Government was involved in
  the responsibility, but that I was unable to comprehend why such a
  King should be patronized as he of Gaeta, sprung of a generation
  of ruthless tyrants; that we should never have expected to see the
  wings of the Imperial eagle extended over the lawless people of
  Naples, red with human blood, and that we were completely at sea.
  I said too, that the most influential persons here believed the
  Emperor was favourable to a certain measure of Italian
  independence, but not to Italian unity; and to this is attributed
  the protection accorded to the King of Gaeta; that it was held for
  certain too that H.M. would go to war next spring, but not for the
  unity of Italy.

  I ought perhaps to have said more, but did not wish to go beyond
  certain limits. There are some here who think that the Emperor has
  an understanding with you over there to go to war next spring, but
  I do not know what good it would do us to have Francis at Gaeta.
  In short we understand nothing at all.

                                        Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

  “P.S.—Please tell Hudson what I am writing. I have let Palmerston
  and Gladstone read the answer which I got from Paris: they have
  both formed the same opinion of it.”

What schemes and intentions the Emperor may have secretly
entertained at this period (if, indeed, such a creature of
circumstances can be supposed to have been capable of possessing
fixed intentions beyond the exigencies of the hour) will probably
remain hidden from human ken until records now in obscure recesses
shall come out into the light of publicity. That ambitious ideas
floated through his brain, and that, if it had been possible to
carry out his projects, he would have hesitated but little about the
means of executing them, there is little doubt; but that, for some
reason, he did not see the way to their fulfilment seems equally
certain. Happily—and probably owing to the firm attitude of
England—the cloud passed over, and no rupture occurred between the
two great powers. In a little more than two years after the date of
the letter last quoted, Panizzi received from the Emperor a second
invitation to Biarritz. What led to this invitation we find him thus
explaining to his friend Ellice:—

                                       “Paris, 52, Rue de Lille,
                                           “Monday, Aug. 11th, 1862.

      .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .
  “... It is perfectly true that Her Majesty, on hearing from
  Mérimée himself that I was to pass through Paris, did me the
  honour of inviting me to dine at St. Cloud last Wednesday, which
  of course I did. I am not, however, so conceited as to suppose
  that Her Majesty, who knows me very little, asked me in
  consequence of that slight knowledge of me; no doubt she asked me
  out of kindness to Mérimée. We had a most agreeable party on that
  day. The Empress was kind, more than I can express, both at dinner
  and after, when the ladies and gentlemen who had dined,
  accompanied by several carriages (she driving her mother) went to
  see a new contrivance to run carriages on a railway (of which I
  understood nothing). We returned to St. Cloud about 11 o’clock by
  bye-lanes without any escort whatever, and in the most private
  manner. The Emperor, who was to arrive on that day, not having
  come, the Empress most gracefully said that Mérimée and I must
  wait for him, and dine again yesterday, which we did. He was
  uncommonly gracious and friendly; owing to a mistake, we arrived
  long before the dinner hour; we walked in the garden, Her Majesty,
  and Mérimée, as well as myself, till dinner time; then, after
  dinner, he called me to a private room and we had a long
  conversation, during which he encouraged me to speak out, and I
  did so. The conclusion was an invitation to Biarritz. I was most
  struck with the Prince Imperial. He is a handsome, intelligent,
  charming boy; he speaks English just as well as you do....”

This chapter may close with part of a letter from Panizzi to Mr.
Gladstone, wherein he appears to give the result of his visit to
Biarritz, and of his conversations with the Emperor Napoleon. Much
of the provocation stated by the writer to have been given to His
Majesty it is difficult to deny; but those who have studied the
subject, or retain any memory of the circumstances of the time, will
agree that the conduct of the Emperor himself was the chief source
of all those accusations, true or false, which were brought against
him.

                                         “British Museum,
                                                 November 3rd, 1862.

  “... As to the conduct of Napoleon respecting Italy, of course
  you know I am completely with you; but I must say that some of
  our friends have acted as if they wished to furnish him with a
  pretext for behaving as he has hitherto done. He has been told
  that no confidence can be placed in his word (if even true he
  cannot like to be told), he has been _bullied_ and threatened,
  those who have treated him with insolence and have grossly
  insulted him, not only as Emperor, but as if he were the vilest
  of mortals, have been made most of by some public men in England
  (I will tell you what I allude to when we meet), all this has
  greatly, and not unnaturally, vexed him, and indisposed him to
  listen to the advice of statesmen whom he no longer considered
  as his friends. One of the very few Frenchmen who looks upon the
  English alliance as the best for France, as well as for the good
  of Europe generally, and who has long been doing his utmost to
  smooth difficulties and soften asperities has often said to
  me:—‘On se croit réciproquement plus mauvais qu’on n’est en
  réalité, il n’y a pas moyen de s’entendre.’ I have found by
  experience the perfect truth of this.”

Here we abandon this subject: leaving at the same time material for
much thought as to the instability of all human events, either
private or public, and as to the uncertainty of individual
character. How inconspicuous may be the turning-point upon which
hangs the good or evil of the future, and with what jealous care the
actions of the powerful and ambitious should be watched; how a
thought or a word may lead to the misery and destruction of
thousands; and how soon all that was fair, prosperous, and peaceful
may be turned into hideous bloodshed, dissension, and misery! Like
the Cæsars of old, the Napoleonic dynasty was ever craving for
increased dominion; and although we, who live in these later days,
have seen the last hopes of Imperial power in France seemingly
extinguished, as we look back to the time when such haughty spirits
had to be kept in check, we cannot but feel a certain amount of
gratitude that such contingencies are unlikely ever again to inspire
us with apprehension from so formidable a quarter.



[Illustration]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XXV

_Ill Health; Extra Leave; Deputy Principal Librarian; Departure for
    Naples; Storm; Naples; Excursions; La Cava; Monte Cassino;
    Monastic Societies; Return to England._


After his return from Biarritz the strain to which the constitution
of Panizzi had been subjected by his laborious life gave him decided
warning of failing powers. Amongst other disagreeable symptoms he
suffered much from _insomnia_. On several occasions he informed the
author of these memoirs that he feared he should be compelled to
relinquish his position at the British Museum; nevertheless he
continued to carry on his work with ardour. He rose every morning at
8 o’clock, and appeared at his post by 10. Struggling against
growing infirmities, and using every means to restore his health and
perform his duties, he applied to the Trustees for leave of absence
from the 15th of Dec., 1862, to the 1st of May following. It need
not be said that his request was granted. As Principal Librarian it
was incumbent on him before leaving to fix upon some competent
officer to discharge his important duties; and this substitute he
very soon found in the person of his longwhile colleague Mr. J.
Winter Jones, at that time Keeper of the Printed Book Department.
This gentleman he nominated as his deputy in accordance with the
rules of the Institution set forth in the 2nd Chap., §§ 2 and 3 of
the statutes. The document, which gave legal force to this temporary
transfer of office, was signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and
the Speaker of the House of Commons, on the 9th of December, 1862.
Soon afterwards Panizzi received a kind and sympathizing letter from
Sir G. Cornewall Lewis, dated December 16, 1862:—

  “Some of your friends are apprehensive that your labours at the
  Museum have been detrimental to your health, and are of opinion
  that you would derive some benefit from a short interval of rest.
  I was not aware, when I had the pleasure of seeing you yesterday,
  that you had been unwell; but pray let me know whether you are
  desirous of leaving London for a time for the sake of your health.
  If you are, the matter might doubtless be represented to the
  Trustees.

  “I have read your report upon the present state of accommodation
  at the Museum.

  “After the recess, I intend to move for a Committee on the
  National Gallery question, to which the papers relating to the
  deficient space at the Museum may be referred.”

On the 18th of December Panizzi, accompanied by the author, who
had been sent from school, started for Naples. So far as
Marseilles the journey was satisfactorily accomplished, the
travellers occupying a special carriage, provided by order of the
Emperor. Panizzi had called on His Majesty on his way through
Paris, and thus this accommodation had been afforded him. Arriving
at Marseilles, the travellers embarked on board one of the
_Messageries_ steamers, trusting to reach Naples by Christmas Day.
A terrific storm, however, which burst upon them shortly after
starting, delayed their progress; so severe was it that at one
moment they were in jeopardy of their lives. At last, after a most
tedious passage, Civita-Vecchia was sighted. Here they landed,
and, leaving it on the following day, reached Naples on the 26th.

As in 1852, Panizzi went to Lady Holland’s residence at the Palazzo
Roccella, whence he sent Mr. Ellice (January 13, 1863) his first
observations on the changes which had taken place at Naples:—

“... This country, after centuries of misgovernment, will take many
years before it derives from the new state of things the advantages
which we all wish; there is, however, an undeniable improvement, in
spite of the priests, the brigands, and the Emperor of the French,
in everything. The dislike of the Bourbons is general, and there is
no Muratist party; but the late Italian Ministry has done everything
in its power to create dissatisfaction by the pedantry of its
regulations, the total disregard of the habits, feelings, and
prejudices of this ignorant population, and the incredible want of
tact in its agents.”

Just at the time of the arrival at Naples, an English gentleman had
been arrested there on the charge of being the bearer of treasonable
letters from Rome. He happened to be a friend of Panizzi’s, and
consequently no little anxiety and apprehension arose in the mind of
the latter regarding his future destiny. On an early day in January
therefore, Panizzi, Lord Henry Lennox, and the writer set out to
visit the prisoner; the necessary permission to do so was not,
however, obtained without considerable difficulty. By an extract
from a letter on this case, written by the first-named to a friend,
it seems that since the disappearance of the old _régime_ some
considerable improvement in the treatment of political offenders had
been introduced:—

                                                         “Jan. 13th.

  “I have just been to see Mr. X—--, and I must say that a better
  prison I never saw. He has a magnificent view, good food, books,
  and is allowed to see friends. The Governor, who is a worthy man,
  retired the moment we entered the room., There was some difficulty
  in allowing young Fagan to enter the prison, so we made use of him
  by telling him to take note of all he saw. The sentence passed on
  our friend is certainly severe, but he fully deserves it. Still, I
  am doing my best to get him off as lightly as is possible.”

Panizzi took a sensible view of the way of enjoying and availing
himself of the advantages of a vacation. To his active mind, perfect
quiescence was not for a moment to be tolerated; and he resolved
upon that wholesome and necessary recreation and diversion, which
have so great a tendency to restore relaxed vigour. Delightful were
the excursions made in and around Naples. One of these was to the
celebrated Benedictine Monastery of La Trinità della Cava, founded
in 1011 by Alferius Pappacarboni, its first Abbot. Here the library,
with its rare and priceless contents, was, as may be imagined, the
chief point of attraction. The visitors were to have been
accompanied by the then abbot, Pappalettere, who, as well as Padre
Tosti, of Monte Cassino, was a much esteemed friend of both Mr.
Gladstone and Panizzi. Unfortunately Pappalettere had lately got
himself into bad odour with the Pope, having rashly expressed
himself respecting the Italian cause in terms too favourable to suit
the taste of his Holiness, and had, in consequence, been summoned to
Rome to give an account of his conduct. Panizzi, consulted as to the
course he would recommend him to adopt, at once advised him to
disregard the invitation, and to remain quietly where he was—sound
advice, and, as the sequel shows, wise, had it been acted on. There
are individuals, however, who, asking for advice, disregard it, and
adopt the contrary course; and in this instance one of this class
was Pappalettere. Obeying the Pope, he went to Rome, and, as a
reward for his obedience, underwent what can be expressed by no
other words than some years of close confinement. On one expedition
to La Cava the travellers had a narrow escape from a sudden
termination to their earthly career. In proceeding along a portion
of the road, bordering on a deep precipice, either from the
overladen state of the carriage or from the bad condition of the
road, a wheel came off. The promptitude and agility of the driver,
saved the party from inevitable destruction. Jumping down, he at
once pulled the horses from the threatening precipice; but for his
presence of mind the writer would not have been here to record the
mishap nor to present the world with this memoir.

Another visit in the neighbourhood was to Monte Cassino, founded by
St. Benedict A.D. 529, on the site of a temple of Apollo. It is
situated on a mountain from which it derives its name, near the
ruins of the ancient Casinum, and approached by a well-paved and
winding road, the ascent of which occupies about two hours. The
Abbey in the eleventh and twelfth centuries was the seat of science,
particularly of medicine, the celebrated School of Salerno having
been founded by the monks of Monte Cassino.

Of this monastery, Dante thus speaks in Canto XXII. of the
“Paradiso,” line 37:—

               Quel monte, a cui Cassino è nella costa,
             Fu frequentato già in sulla cima
             Dalla gente ingannata e mal disposta.
               Ed io son quel che su vi portai prima
             Lo nome di Colui che in terra addusse
             La verità che tanto ci sublima;
               E tanta grazia sovra me rilusse,
             Ch’ io ritrassi le ville circostanti
             Dall’ empio culto che il mondo sedusse.

                                  ---

                                  ... In old days,
            That mountain, at whose side Cassino rests,
            Was, on its height, frequented by a race
            Deceived and ill-disposed; and I it was,
            Who thither carried first the name of Him,
            Who brought the soul-subliming truth to man.
            And such a speeding grace shone over me,
            That from their impious worship I reclaim’d
            The dwellers round about, who with the world
            Were in delusion lost....
                          —(_Cary’s Translation._)

At the time of this visit the founder’s tomb was in course of
restoration, and amongst those who contributed to the good work was
Mr. Gladstone, who requested Panizzi to pay, in his name, to the
restoration fund the sum of 100 ducats, equivalent to about £16 of
English money.

One of the first acts of the newly-established Government of Italy
was the suppression of the religious houses. Although it cannot be
denied by the candid student of history that, in mediæval times,
Monastic Societies were of the utmost benefit, and, indeed, in many
respects, actually necessary to civilization, and to many other
important ends; and although the debt we owe them for the
preservation of literature and art, which, but for their fostering
care, would have eternally perished, can never be duly estimated;
yet it must be admitted by the most determined lover of antiquity
that, in the state of modern society, the monastery is at the
present day somewhat out of place. The ends such Institutions
formerly subserved, and their power to subserve such ends, have
alike become extinct. In our times they appear to exist simply to
perpetuate the vicious and unreasonable principle that a man may
live in the world, yet not be of it, that he may cast aside his
duties as a citizen and every feeling which binds him to his
country, sacrificing such sacred obligations to the devout (and
selfish) care of his own soul.

At the time of which we write, Italy, above all nations, abounded to
superfluity in these establishments; and suspicions, not ill-founded
nor unreasonable, were entertained of the loyalty of some of their
members, from the perpetual drain made by them on the able-bodied
population.

It is, however, to be regretted that the officials to whom was
entrusted the dissolution of the convents of Italy did not set about
their far from pleasant duties in such a manner as to contrast more
favourably with the conduct of Henry VIII. under similar
circumstances, whereas they displayed an amount of harshness and
brutality—nay, cruelty—calculated to throw discredit not only on
themselves, but on the country by which they were employed, and,
what is more serious still, on the character of Italians in general.

                                -------

Panizzi, ever alive to injustice and cruelty, and jealous of the
fair fame of his country, with an equal abhorrence of the wrongs
committed in the name of freedom and of a liberal constitution,
though weighed with the tyrannies of King Bomba, was especially
indignant at the conduct of the Commission. On this painful subject
he gave free vent to his feelings in a letter dated the 13th of
January, 1863, and, as the following lines will show, did not
confine himself to a simple expression of feeling:—

  “... What will you think of my having turned protector of monks
  and nuns? Yet such is the fact. I have been so disgusted with the
  harsh proceedings of the President of the Commission appointed to
  take possession of the property of religious corporations that I
  could not help doing my best to get the fellow removed from his
  office; and I am glad to say he has been recalled to Turin by
  telegraph, and another person appointed, of whom everybody speaks
  well. The illegalities which are committed are innumerable....”

Similar sentiments are expressed in another letter to Mr. Gladstone,
from which the following is an extract:

                                          “Naples, January 18, 1863.

  “... So soon as I arrived here I found that the person who was at
  the head of the Commission for the suppression of convents,
  monasteries, &c., behaved with unjustifiable harshness and
  rudeness: the dissatisfaction and discontent his conduct caused
  cannot be exaggerated. I backed the representations made to the
  Ministers to put an end to this abuse of authority, and the fellow
  was recalled by telegraph.”

These honourable protests against oppression, and possibly others
more openly made in language equally forcible, caused an abundance
of silly surmises and talk of the conversion of Panizzi, and of his
having become an adherent of the Pope and of the Bourbons, &c., &c.

Utterly unworthy as were these of being repeated, we should leave
the subject unmentioned, did it not afford the opportunity of
introducing a letter, dated Turin, the 2nd of April, 1863, too
important to be omitted, from that distinguished diplomatist and
most amiable of men, Sir James Hudson:—

  “This is the first quiet moment I have had since I received yours
  of the 25th.

  “How can you seriously pay attention to the chatterboxes of
  Naples, who had written here that you had gone over to the enemy?
  But, my dear friend, you don’t suppose that in Upper Italy anybody
  would believe such ridiculous gossip!

  “I knew very well that you would have come here at once had I
  asked you to do so. But the necessity, the strait we were in, was
  not sufficiently great to require that sacrifice. I will tell you
  what it is when we meet.

  “And now about meeting. I still say, ‘Don’t put yourself out,’
  don’t come to Genoa merely to see Giacomino. If you come to Genoa,
  you _must_ come here. It’s all very well to say, ‘I don’t want to
  see anybody but you.’ Well, that’s like _you_; but it won’t do.
  _You_ cannot come so near Turin, and not come to Turin. You occupy
  too large a space in the Italian and European eye. Many people
  want to see you especially Minghetti and Amari, and doubtless
  Peruzzi.

  “The journey is nothing now over the Mont Cenis. If you say
  positively you won’t, why I can’t help it; but I repeat, don’t
  come to Genoa if you won’t come to Turin. But if you do come to
  Genoa I will meet you there. We shall meet in July at all events,
  for I am quite serious in declaring my intention of residing with
  you at the British Museum, and am very grateful for the kind
  reception you have given to my proposition.

  “I have read your letter _three times_, which is what I never did
  for a Foreign Office instruction.

  “I have not a word of news to send you.

  “God bless you!

                                                        “GIACOMINO.”

On the 1st of May, 1863, Panizzi returned to his duties at the
Museum; and with melancholy reflections we must here record that his
life of action had practically reached its limits; not, however,
that the patriot’s zeal had in any way decayed, nor had the
politician’s interest in public affairs relaxed one iota.

To this point we have endeavoured briefly to follow up the fortunes
of Italy from the year 1820. How much energy had been expended, how
many lives of her truest sons had been devoted to the achievement of
her liberty and union, and how far England had lent her powerful aid
towards the accomplishment of the dearest wishes of patriotic
Italians, it is beyond our province to discuss, and we leave such
questions to be answered in the sterner pages of history.

Though natural decay crept on Panizzi, and though he felt his powers
decreasing, he still continued his activity of body and mind, not
resigning himself, as many men would have done, to indolence and
absolute rest, but still taking an interest in all that was
occurring around him, proffering aid and counsel where it was
required or willingly received, and turning a stern countenance to
everything approaching injustice.

Returning to his official duties in England, he cheerfully resigned
the beauties of his native Italy, although to him they must have had
an especial charm, and doubtless he coincided with the patriotic
Neapolitan who exclaimed:—

                     “Vedi Napoli e poi muori!”

Yet not in this balmy air, nor within the influences of that sea
whose azure tint delights the eye did he linger; duty called him
thence, and at the post of duty was Panizzi ever to be found.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]



                              CHAPTER XXVI

_Death of Mr Ellice; Garibaldi in London; Massimo d’Azeglio;
    Foscolo’s remains removed to Florence; Panizzi’s desire
    to Retire; Correspondence; Death of Lord Palmerston;
    Superannuation; Portrait; Museum Staff; Private Residence._


During 1863 Panizzi repeated his visit to Biarritz, and his Italian
friends urged him to see the Emperor Napoleon, and to cultivate that
potentate’s friendship. With reference to their arguments, he thus
wrote to Mr Ellice: ‘I am urged by Lacaita and Pasolini to go, who
think I may do some good, _which I do not hope in the least_.’
However, he went; but on the 15th of October, 1863, he wrote to Mrs
Haywood: ‘I have been abroad on a visit to the Emperor and the
Empress of the French, with whom I spent four weeks. I might have
remained a little longer, but on receiving the news of the death of
Mr. Ellice, the greatest friend I had lost since I lost one (Mr.
Haywood) still more dear to me, and to whom I owed more, I hasten
back to England.... My rheumatic pains have become more violent, and
curiously, or rather unfortunately enough, my right wrist is more
affected than my other joints, which renders my writing always
difficult and painful—at times impossible. As you may conceive, as
writing is what I must do, this distresses me greatly. At night,
too, I suffer particularly, and am kept from sleeping, so that in
the daytime I cannot work as energetically as I used to do, and as
is required of one who fills my place. I have often thought of
resigning, but the Trustees won’t hear of it, and flatter me by
saying I am absolutely necessary to the Museum, which I do not
think!’

In fact Panizzi, with all his conscientious care of himself, that he
might still be fit for office, had never succeeded in rooting out
the seeds of that illness from which he suffered so much in 1862.
The same exhausting sleeplessness at night wore him out, and every
symptom of disease seemed aggravated. How acute were his sufferings
the biographer well remembers, and how, notwithstanding all, he
never relaxed the undeviating regularity of his attendance to
official duties.

[Illustration]

His health was in the very worst state when he received from General
Garibaldi a letter—very brief—announcing an intention of visiting
London. This news, which, under other circumstances, might have been
a source of unalloyed gratification, was not altogether welcome, as
it foreboded extra work in Panizzi’s then condition, and he well
knew that on him would devolve much extra care and supervision on
behalf of the great patriot. The entry of this illustrious hero into
the metropolis, the manner of his reception by the people, and the
acclamations with which so popular a stranger was greeted, will not
have faded from the recollection of the majority of our readers. On
the 15th of April, 1864, Garibaldi dined with Panizzi. The guests
entertained at the banquet were the Duke of Sutherland, the Earl of
Shaftesbury, Lord Wodehouse, Lord Frederick Cavendish, Mr.
Gladstone, Lord Granville, Sir John, now Lord Acton, and the present
writer. At the end of dinner the General addressed his host,
expressing a strong and sincere desire to visit the tomb of Ugo
Foscolo, whose friendship for the subject of the memoir has been
mentioned in a former chapter, and who was buried, it will be
remembered, at Chiswick.

In accordance with this wish, at the early hour of five o’clock on
the morning of the 20th of April, Panizzi and the present writer
started from the Museum to call on the General. They found him in
bed, half asleep; but, in compliance with their summons, he arose,
and in somewhat less than ten minutes came downstairs, having thus
promptly prepared himself, as became a soldier.

A brougham was ready to convey the three to their destination at
Chiswick; and it was on this occasion that, for the first time, was
suggested the advisability of Garibaldi’s departure from London.
Arrived at Foscolo’s tomb, the General requested his friend to
address the crowd which their appearance had collected from all
sides; the latter did not, however, hesitate to declare frankly that
such a course would be contrary to the customs of this country. Not
far from these two distinguished personages stood, towering above
those surrounding him, a brewer’s man, of gigantic proportions, who
delivered himself in the following words:—_Gentlemen, the man who is
buried there has done with the pen what Garibaldi has accomplished
with the sword!_ Nothing in the way of a speech could have been more
appropriate, and so thought all present.

[Illustration]

Panizzi had written to Massimo d’Azeglio on the subject of
Garibaldi’s visit to London and his reception there. Azeglio’s most
interesting reply will be found at page 478 of the _Lettere ad
Antonio Panizzi_, &c., _Firenze_, 1880, and will repay perusal. It
is dated the 25th of July, 1864, and occupies six pages, but space
will only allow us to give some extracts in a free translation:—

“I have always admired Garibaldi. When he was beaten at Cesenatico I
treated for peace with Austria, and endeavoured to save him. Then I
got him a pension which he accepted for his mother and refused for
himself. I think with you that he is one of the choicest natures
created by the Almighty—a lover of his country, enterprising,
substantially humane and generous, averse to cupidity, and he has
rendered eminent services ... but, after all, let me add that no
deserts, no extent of service, entitle a citizen to set himself
above the laws of his country and to violate them. No one is allowed
to create _imperium in imperio_, to treat with his sovereign as an
equal, to outrage and ignore the constituted authorities, or to
assume the permanent decision of peace and war.... Garibaldi, by
instinct shy and mild, has been thrust forward by scamps for their
own purposes, and they have intoxicated him with flattery that would
have turned the brain of the hardest head, much more his....

“You say that we are behindhand in respect for the laws, and that we
ought to follow the example of the English. Let us see:—

“After Aspromonte I was a member of the Council of Ministers which
was to decide the fate of Garibaldi. I said: _Bring him to trial
like any other citizen, and after sentence let him he immediately
pardoned by the King_.... But it was thought better to grant him
amnesty, which he refused, saying that he had only done his duty....
Many of the Council were of my opinion, and so were most of the
people in the country.... Before Aspromonte Garibaldi was elected by
acclamation in thirty districts; after Aspromonte by _ballot_ in
two. The Italians said, we don’t want prophets above the laws; one
said even, we don’t want him to come as a second Redeemer.

“Do you think we are so very much behindhand?

“Let us now turn to the English people. Garibaldi went to them with
the harbinger of a fantastic legend such as no one ever had before.
I should have thought it natural for him to be received, applauded,
exalted, _clubbefied_, and _dinnered_ by the whole population,
including the Italians in London. But that a man who boasted of
superiority to the laws, a man still reeking with the blood of
Italian soldiers whom he had slain, should be officially received by
the State, by Parliament, by the Ministers, by the heir of the
English throne, with honours never accorded to any sovereign ... and
this while he who was receiving them was the declared friend of
Mazzini, who, could he have got the chance, would have had all such
personages hanged, that this should have happened amongst a people
that thinks it has a mission to preserve intact the idea of truth,
of justice, and of honour, must be bitterly deplored by every one of
sound common sense, and I cannot persuade myself that you think
differently.”

To this we will append a translation of another letter from the same
writer, which will speak for itself.

                                             “Cannero, May 26, 1865.

  “Dear Panizzi,

          You will understand that I adopt Galileo’s experimental
  method, not the doctrine of one of the Aristotelians.

  I had heard a worthy person speak of Spiritualism, and I said to
  myself, _Let us see_, then I will believe.

  I have made a series of experiments _at home_ with three or four
  safe people, so as to be sure there should be no charlatanism.
  Here is the result, which for me is definitively demonstrated.

  1st.—The experiments have produced phenomena absolutely
  inexplicable by the ordinary laws which govern matter.

  2nd.—We put ourselves in communication with an intelligence, to
  the exclusion of any explanation purely material.

  3rd.—It is impossible to establish either the personality or the
  truthfulness of the said intelligence, hence the final result is
  but of slight importance for any one who is not a Materialist. I
  am not so and never have been; so the only benefit that I derived
  from the experiments was to witness phenomena which before I
  should have thought impossible.

  Those who are Materialists in good earnest ought necessarily to
  accept Spiritualism.[H]

  If you should have the same curiosity as I had, and would like to
  make experiments, you ought to read the _Doctrine Spirite_, a very
  common book. It is not right to judge any doctrine until you are
  acquainted with it, and have tested it.

  It was bound to be acceptable to me, because it harmonises with
  many of my old ideas on the origin of evil, so I found myself at
  home. I do not say that it absolutely explains the mystery, but it
  affords a glimpse of a solution much less illogical than that of
  original sin, much more consistent with divine perfection, and of
  far greater comfort in the uncertainties to which we are
  condemned.

  Now you know as much about it as I do. If at any time you should
  make up your mind to come to my place, we can make experiments to
  your heart’s content.

  Take care of yourself and of your friendship for me, and wish me
  well.

                                     Sincerely yours,
                                                 MASSIMO D’AZEGLIO.”

In April, 1871, Panizzi received a semi-official letter from General
Menabrea, announcing the proposed removal to Florence of Foscolo’s
remains. We are bound to say that the recipient did not much approve
of this step. He was of opinion that in Santa Croce, where are the
tombs of Dante, Michael Angelo, Galileo, Macchiavelli, Alfieri, &c.,
&c., the exiled patriot would be out of place. However, the
following inscription will tell the tale of the interment, removal,
and final deposition:—

On the East end of tomb:—

                            UGO FOSCOLO,
                 DIED SEPTEMBER 10, 1827, AGED 50.

On the South side:—

             FROM THE SACRED GUARDIANSHIP OF CHISWICK,
            TO THE HONOURS OF SANTA CROCE, IN FLORENCE,
                 THE GOVERNMENT AND PEOPLE OF ITALY
                          HAVE TRANSPORTED
              THE REMAINS OF THE WEARIED CITIZEN POET,
                         7TH OF JUNE, 1871.

On the North side:—

                   THIS SPOT WHERE, FOR 44 YEARS,
                           THE RELICS OF
                           _UGO FOSCOLO_
                    REPOSED IN HONOURED CUSTODY,
           WILL BE FOR EVER HELD IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE
                       BY THE ITALIAN NATION.

In speaking of Mazzini, mention has been made how the biographer
undertook the delivery of a message which resulted in the departure
of Garibaldi.

The reader’s forbearance must be solicited for the abruptness with
which one subject succeeds another, but at present we are relating a
succession of occurrences, not deeply important, yet too interesting
and too deeply connected with our narrative to be altogether omitted
before entering upon sterner topics. The following note of
invitation to Mr. Gladstone is of an amusing character:—

                                         “B. M., January 11th, 1865.

  “My dear Sir,

          ‘_Like a good fellow_,’ I will certainly dine with you on
  Tuesday, the 25th instant.

  There is an Italian opera buffa, in which a gentleman who wants to
  become a poet, and takes lessons as to the mechanism of verse from
  a poet, wishing to ask his master to dine with him, tries to
  convey his invitation in an hendecasyllable, and begins, _Volete
  pranzare meco oggi?_ (Will you dine with me to-day?) but it would
  not do, so he changed, _Volete pranzare meco domani?_ (Will you
  dine with me to-morrow?) it would not do either, and the poet
  suggested at once, _Volete pranzare meco oggi e domani?_ (Will you
  dine with me to-day and to-morrow) a very good line, and so it was
  settled. Now I have made a line for our dinner here, of which you
  must approve. _Pranzate meco il ventitre e quattro_ (Dine with me
  the 23rd and 24th.) The poetry is not good; have patience, and,
  ‘_like a good fellow_,’ come both days.

                                              Yours ever,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

Such was the natural humour of the man that, as in this instance, he
seldom forebore from giving a jocose turn to his subject when
opportunity afforded.

The first written intimation of Panizzi’s serious wish to resign his
high office is to be found in a letter to Mr. Gladstone, dated May
25th, 1865.

                                                    “British Museum.

  “My dear Sir,

          On seeing Lacaita yesterday I learnt from him, as I
  expected, he had communicated to you my intention of retiring from
  an office which I cannot any longer fill with advantage to the
  public or satisfaction to myself. I am sorry that you have learnt
  this intention of mine from a third party and not from me, but if
  I have abstained from speaking of it to you myself, it has been
  from motives of delicacy, and not to seem to presume on the
  kindness you have uniformly shown to me.

  My first impulse, indeed, was to speak to you, and to avow how
  deeply I should feel to separate myself from an Institution to
  which I owe so much, and in which I take, and shall ever take,
  more interest than in anything else in the world; but
  circumstances have arisen that, I fear, render it impossible it
  can be otherwise.

  I do not mean to resign till after the discussion (whatever be its
  fate) has taken place in the House of Commons; and I then mean to
  offer to the Trustees my poor services for a limited time and
  gratis, if they will condescend to accept them, and should they
  consider them of any use till my successor has got in harness, or
  any other arrangement is come to which may be considered best for
  the Museum. I told this to Lacaita yesterday, and you may have
  already heard it from him.

                                            Yours ever,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

This letter shows how deeply the thought of separation from his
beloved Institution, on which he had centered all his energies and
aspirations, affected him, and how cogent must have been the reasons
which impelled him to meditate such a step.

Mr. Gladstone’s reply was most complimentary, but showed little
inclination to fall in with the contemplated scheme; it consisted of
original Italian verses, and admirable Italian too, a fine specimen
of the abilities of the great statesman in a language not his own.

On the 24th of June, 1865, however, Panizzi informed the Committee
of the Trustees that, in justice to the Museum, as well as to
himself, the state of his health compelled him, much against his
will, to tender to Her Majesty the resignation of his appointment as
Principal Librarian. The Report in which he made this communication
ran as follows:—

“Mr. Panizzi respectfully represents that he is reluctantly
compelled, humbly to beg of the Queen to accept his resignation of
the place of Principal Librarian, to which Her Majesty was
graciously pleased to appoint him. Mr. Panizzi regrets being
obliged, after long hesitation, to take this step; but he finds that
neither in justice to this great Institution nor to himself, he
ought to continue to hold a place, the duties of which, to be
efficiently performed, require a vigour, not only of mind but of
body, which Mr. Panizzi is conscious that he no longer possesses.

“Mr. Panizzi hopes that the Trustees will add to the many acts of
kindness with which they have been pleased to honour him, that of
submitting to Her Majesty’s Treasury the accompanying statement of
Mr. Panizzi’s services, and of recommending their Lordships to award
him such a superannuation allowance as they may consider just, under
the circumstances, in conformity with the Superannuation Act, 1859,
sections 2 and 9, with the Treasury letter of the 7th of June, 1860,
and with the Treasury Minute of the 24th of August of the same year.

“Should the Trustees do Mr. Panizzi the honour of considering that,
on his resignation being accepted by Her Majesty, his knowledge of
Museum affairs might be of use to the Trustees for a limited period,
to be fixed by themselves, Mr. Panizzi will feel proud if his humble
gratuitous services be accepted, until his successor can enter on
his duties and become familiar with them.

“As a mark of respect to the Trustees, Mr. Panizzi begs to submit to
them his letter of resignation, previously to transmitting it to the
Secretary of State to be laid before Her Majesty.”

In consequence of this the subjoined resolutions were passed:—

                                         “Saturday, June 24th, 1865.

        “Resolved:—

  “1.—The Trustees having heard that Mr. Panizzi proposes to resign
  his office of Principal Librarian, desire to record their deep
  sense of the ability, zeal, and unwearied assiduity with which he
  has discharged the many arduous and responsible duties which from
  time to time have been committed to him.”

  “2.—That, in the opinion of the Trustees, the resignation of Mr.
  Panizzi, at a period when great changes are contemplated in the
  administration of the British Museum, is to be peculiarly
  regretted.”[I]

  “3.—The Trustees desire to state that the special services of Mr.
  Panizzi, over and above his ordinary duties, have been of such a
  nature as to entitle him to a special reward under the provisions
  of the 9th Section of the Superannuation Act, 1859. They would
  therefore urge that Mr. Panizzi possesses a just claim to a
  retiring allowance equal to the full amount of his salary and
  emoluments.”

  “4.—That the Chairman of this meeting is requested to transmit the
  foregoing resolutions, together with Mr. Panizzi’s report and its
  accompanying enclosure, to the Lords Commissioners of Her
  Majesty’s Treasury.”

The Trustees present on the occasion were:—The Speaker, in the
Chair, the Duke of Somerset, Lord Eversley, Lord Taunton, The Right
Hon. S. H. Walpole, The Right Hon. B. Disraeli, The Right Hon. R
Lowe, Sir P. de M. Grey Egerton, Bart., Sir R. I. Murchison, Dr.
Milman, Major-General Sabine, C. Towneley, Esq., and G. Grote, Esq.

On the 7th of July following, Sir George Grey wrote in answer:—

“... It is with sincere regret that I have learnt that you no longer
feel yourself fully equal to the duties of an office which you have
so long filled in a manner entirely satisfactory to the Trustees,
and eminently conducive to the interests of the Museum.”

He then refers to the resolutions of the Trustees, and continues:—

“Under these circumstances it would afford H.M.’s Government much
satisfaction if, without risk of injury to your health, you could
continue your valuable services to the Museum, at least until early
in the next year. I shall be obliged by your informing me whether
you can concur in this arrangement, before I lay the tender of your
resignation before Her Majesty.”

The amount of the retiring allowance was £1,400 per annum, a goodly
solace for old age and infirmities, yet none too much for the
unremitting zeal Panizzi had evinced in the exercise of his
important duties.

On the 8th of July he reported to the Trustees his willingness to
place himself entirely in their hands, and to continue, should they
desire it, his services for a while, an offer of which the Standing
Committee gladly availed themselves, expressing a hope that he would
continue his valuable exertions until the following year.

Let us, however, leave the Museum, for a few minutes whilst we draw
attention to that which, at the time, assumed the proportions of a
national calamity.

On the 18th of October, 1865, Lord Palmerston departed this life.
How severe a blow this was to Panizzi may be judged from our
frequent allusions to the veneration in which he held the
distinguished statesman; and that Mr. Gladstone thoroughly
understood, and entered into his feelings, the letter now quoted
will show:—

                                              “Clumber,
                                                   October 18, 1865.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          _Ei fu!_[J] Death has indeed laid low the most towering
  antlers in all the forest. No man in England will more sincerely
  mourn Lord Palmerston than you. Your warm heart, your long and
  close friendship with him, and your sense of all he had said and
  done for Italy, all so bound you to him that you will deeply feel
  this loss. As for myself, I am stunned. It was plain that this
  would come: but sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, and
  there is no surplus stock of energy in the mind to face, far less
  to anticipate, fresh contingencies. But I need not speak of this
  great event. To-morrow all England will be ringing of it, and the
  world will echo England. I cannot forecast the changes which will
  follow; but it is easy to see what the first step should be.

  I cannot write on any other subject.

                                 Yours ever, and most warmly,
                                                   W. E. GLADSTONE.”

Another year was entered upon, and the Principal Librarian yearned
for rest. On the 5th of June, 1866, he addressed a letter to Sir
George Grey, earnestly requesting that he might be released from his
official duties, and on the 18th of the same month received an
answer from the Treasury informing him that immediate steps would be
taken to appoint a successor. Eight days afterwards, on the 26th of
June, Mr. John Winter Jones was selected as the new Principal
Librarian. On finally relinquishing his post, Panizzi addressed the
following circular letter to the heads of Departments:—

                                   “British Museum, July 16th, 1866.

  “I cannot leave the Museum, and close my official connexion with
  those with whom I have had the honour and pleasure of serving the
  Trustees for so many years, without returning to all and each of
  them individually my warmest thanks for the efficient help which I
  have received from them in the discharge of my duties. Although
  conscious of having at all times acted to the best of my ability,
  and only for the advantage of the Museum and of those connected
  with it, I wish to add that, if I have ever given unnecessary pain
  to any one, I regret it most sincerely, and trust that credit will
  be given to me for having been uniformly influenced solely by a
  sense of duty.

  “Allow me to request that you will bring this communication to the
  individual knowledge of every person in your Department. I shall
  always take the warmest interest in their future happiness, and
  shall never cease to feel the sincerest regard for them.”

Numerous and hearty were the responses, and it must have been highly
gratifying to their recipient to know that his endeavours had gained
the approval of all, and that, now that the battle was over, so far
as he was concerned, he could rest satisfied with his own share in
the struggle which had ended so triumphantly for himself. It will be
unnecessary to quote more than one of the replies, that from his
successor:—

                                   “British Museum, July 18th, 1866.

  “I have communicated to all persons in this Department the kind
  and generous letter you have been so good as to address to me on
  the subject of your retirement from the post of Principal
  Librarian. On this event there is but one feeling throughout the
  Department—that of deep regret that we are about to lose one who
  has the strongest claims upon us all, not only for acts of
  personal kindness, but for substantial benefits.

  “It is no secret throughout the House that whatever improvement
  has taken place in the condition of those employed in it has
  originated with yourself and been won by your exertions. They are
  indebted to you for increased pay and extended vacations. They are
  indebted to you for the abolition of the system of payment by the
  day, which was injurious to the service and painful to the
  feelings of the gentlemen employed. Your exertions procured for
  the Library those increased grants which have rendered possible
  its vast growth and the high position it at present occupies. In
  short, we feel, and are proud to feel, that all the important
  improvements in the Institution had their origin in this
  Department while you were its Chief Officer, and that the very
  great development of the Museum generally commenced at the period
  when you became Principal Librarian.

  “For myself, I shall always feel most grateful for the unvarying
  kindness with which you have treated me during the long period of
  nearly thirty years that I have acted more or less immediately
  under your superintendence. Your advice, support, and
  encouragement have never been wanting to me in all cases of
  difficulty; and if the present state of the Library deserves
  commendation, it is to you that the praise is mainly due.

  “While speaking thus in my own name, I am in fact speaking in the
  name of all, and only expressing the sentiments which have been
  conveyed to me by those in the Department. Although officially
  separated from us, your name must always be inseparably connected
  with this great Institution; and be assured, my dear sir, that you
  carry with you into your retirement not only the best wishes, but
  the warm and affectionate feelings of us all.”

Shortly after he left his post a subscription was set on foot
throughout the Museum to present him with a fitting testimonial;
this ultimately took the form of a portrait painted by Mr. George
Frederick Watts, R.A. It is now hung in, and forms one of the chief
ornaments of the Trustees’ Committee-Room. As a likeness it is
perfect, by far the most successful example of the kind; as a
picture it is one of the finest works of the painter, the modern
Tintoretto. Produced in a low and yet powerful key of colour, the
whole work exhibits a potent combination of ruddy-brown carnations,
with black broken into deep greys—tints which are admirably
harmonized with each other, and so happily toned as to produce just
and broad chiaro-oscuro. The figure is life-size, three-quarters
length, seated in three-quarters view to our right, and easily, as
well as sedately, posed in a large chair; the head is slightly bent
forward, and the eyes, although directed _towards_ the spectator,
are not directed _at_ him; they have an expression of habitual
thoughtfulness which is very striking when its influence is felt by
the observer, and this is not the less effective because it is
undemonstrative. Owing to the position of the eyes themselves, no
reflections of the light appear on their surfaces, which by no means
common circumstance adds to the gravity, and even to the dignity of
the picture, and is perfectly faithful to nature. It increases the
repose of the work, and excludes that which is often a disturbing
element in designs of equal simplicity and breadth of motive. The
steadfast expression of the features, and the restful attitudes of
the body and hands, are valuable elements of this very important and
impressive master-piece of painting.

We have given an exact and faithful account of the causes which led
to Panizzi’s resignation of the office which he had held with honour
for so many years, of the manner in which it was carried out, and of
the testimonials which it evoked. We have now merely to mention that
in the House of Lords a scene was enacted similar to that which took
place in the House of Commons on the 21st of April, 1856. Whoever is
anxious and willing to enter more fully into that controversy,
unpleasant as it was, need only examine Hansard’s Parliamentary
Debates, House of Lords, Monday, February the 12th, 1866.

Let us give Panizzi’s own words to prove whether or not he was
pleased and satisfied with the treatment he received at the hands of
the Trustees. He thus wrote to Mrs. Haywood, on the 15th of July,
1866:—

“The Trustees have behaved most handsomely, and so has the
Government, both in words and deeds. First of all ample justice, and
perhaps some may say more than justice, was rendered to my long and
many services. I shall certainly remain in London, the pension I am
to get being ample for my wants; and now, my dear Mrs. Haywood, let
me add a few words from my heart. The first feeling, when my future
was settled, was one of deep grief, that the friend who would have
so heartily rejoiced at the close of my honourable career, who
cheered me when lonely and unknown, who thought of my welfare as
much as he did of his own, that he was no longer here. This feeling
overwhelmed me for a moment, and even now I can hardly master it.”

It was a common remark of Panizzi’s that during his long official
career he had never, with very few exceptions, (and even then he
felt he had acted for the best) shown favour to any one employed in
the British Museum who had not afterwards become an honour to the
Institution, and of this we have ample documentary evidence, dating
so far back as the year 1837.

In the month of June, 1855, requiring the services of a Hebrew
scholar, he applied to the firm of Asher, of Berlin, to recommend
such a gentleman. Accordingly _a certain young man of 23, and a Jew,
endowed with natural ability, who understood Latin, Greek, and
French, of strict moral integrity, and of faultless character, and
thoroughly respectable_ was introduced to the Keeper of the Printed
Books; this was Emanuel Deutsch, afterwards well-known as the writer
of several letters to _The Times_ respecting the discovery and
reading of the Moabite Stone, and the article in the _Quarterly
Review_ on the Talmud. This _Assistant_ was one whose talents his
superior officer did not fail to recognise. Unfortunately death
claimed him at an early age on the 14th of May, 1873.

It is a somewhat delicate subject to touch upon, but, as we are
discussing these matters, we feel bound to mention by name others
who were, in a manner of speaking, Panizzi’s children; and let us
hope we are not exaggerating or exceeding our proper limits by
remarking that they looked up to him as their protector and adviser.
For example, Mr. E. Maunde Thompson, the present Keeper of MSS., was
ever held by him in high estimation, and also, in an equal degree,
were Mr. John T. Taylor, Mr. John Cleave, and Mr. Richard Garnett.

The first of these became his intimate friend, and it was also
through his intervention that Mr. Taylor gave such valuable literary
aid to the late Princess Mary Liechtenstein, in the compilation of
the interesting volumes entitled “Holland House.” Mr. Cleave, then,
as now, the Accountant of the Museum, had, as we know, many lengthy
discussions with Panizzi on financial matters, and, indeed, the
opinions of the latter on these points were always regarded as
decisive. Greatly esteemed also was Mr. Garnett, whose appointment
as Superintendent of the Reading-Room rejoiced the ex-Librarian
extremely. Nor, although he has left the Museum, should the name of
Mr. W. R. S. Ralston remain unmentioned.

Many more names might be enumerated; one, however, we will not
omit—that of the clever mechanician and metal-worker, Mr. Sparrow,
who, by his ingenuity, contrived or carried out many appliances for
the comfort of the aged Librarian. All were labouring in unison as
Panizzi’s barque was nearing the harbour, after its eventful voyage;
and truly reciprocal were the feelings of friendship and respect
which had grown up between Panizzi and his fellow-workers—friendship
in full stream, flowing from the purest sources.

In this manner, applauded on all sides, beloved and respected, did
the Principal Librarian retire from the position he had gained step
by step by hard and uninterrupted labour. Still the memory of the
past clung to him—still he would have devoted, had it been possible,
his waning physical and mental strength to the internal and external
workings of that Institution upon which he had so persistently set
his heart. His own words bear witness to the affection he retained
for the vicinity of his past efforts:—“I have got,” wrote he, “a
house. It is in a very unfashionable quarter, though very
respectable, near here, being 31, Bloomsbury Square.” So it was that
he still desired to linger with his memories and experiences within
sight of the building which had cost him so much in brain and body,
and those who read these pages may easily conceive how far his
thoughts were interwoven with his expressions.

We have endeavoured faithfully to detail the circumstances of this
eventful life, until the time arrived when, succumbing to the stern
dictates of nature, Panizzi was compelled to retire behind those
scenes which his presence had so long graced.

When the actor or the author departs from the boards where his
production or his acting has delighted audiences, how acute is the
grief of parting with his admirers! Who does not remember the almost
ominous words of the late Charles Dickens, when, at the last of his
readings, he made use of the remarkable expression, _From these
garish lights I vanish now for evermore, with a heartfelt, grateful,
respectful, and affectionate farewell_? These words—though, of
course, not exactly applicable to the present case—may be strained
so far as to indicate the deep feeling with which a different, but
not less successful, contributor to public requirements was severing
himself from labours which had been to him pre-eminently a “labour
of love,” and may justly be cited as implying the same affectionate
remembrance of his fellow-workers and those who appreciated his
undoubtedly great abilities. In addition to a faithful recital of
facts and an unprejudiced view of the career of the chosen subject
of any memoir, a biographer owes somewhat more to his readers. No
life is worth recounting unless it affords an example worth
following, or unless it is acknowledged at the first to have been
set forth for some other specific purpose, either as mere matter for
history, or as the life of one whose errors were so great that it is
thought advisable to reproduce them as a warning to future would-be
evil-doers.

Nothing appertains to the present biography but an intent to put
before the world a man who, under the most adverse circumstances and
with the most beneficial intentions, by sheer perseverance and by
unflinching energy, attained the object of his heart’s desire—a
desire that has redounded to his lasting praise.

No words of our own shall be used. Let those of Dean Milman be
quoted as our justification for what has been already said of the
subject of our memoir. On the 5th of February, 1866, writing from
the “Deanery of St. Paul’s,” he used these words:—“As to his
(Panizzi’s) public services, his long and most careful connection
with the British Museum cannot be more fully or justly appreciated
than by yourself” (this letter was addressed to Sir R. I.
Murchison), “and I am sure that we should entirely agree on this
subject. Above all, the great national gift of the Reading-Room, the
envy and admiration of Europe, is, as you well know, almost his
entire creation, from the original design to the most minute
detail—from the dome to the inkstands and bookshelves.”

Those who knew Dean Milman will acknowledge the worth of a
testimonial thus given by such a man to the value of Panizzi’s
labours.

Yet it is not here that we must stop short; an unbiassed account has
been rendered of his difficulties at the outset of his career, never
resting he persevered in his onward journey where ordinary men would
have resigned the effort. His own national misfortunes were enough
to occupy his time and thoughts; yet he found opportunities to
attend to all business that pressed upon his attention.

These are the facts and uncontrovertible facts; and the details upon
which we have fully entered must excite admiration for the man who
could thus concentrate his mind upon duties of the most onerous
description, and yet, when occasion required, be found able and
willing to befriend a cause which was unquestionably as dear to his
heart as any other—viz., the liberty, freedom, and happiness of his
own beloved Italy.

No undue exaltation of Panizzi is intended on the part of the
biographer; wherever such may seem to be attributed, it is from no
personal panegyric of his own.

Numerous letters might be adduced corroborative of the estimation in
which the deceased was held—letters whose signature place their
contents beyond suspicion; but they are withheld lest a charge of
adulation should be laid at the author’s door, that charge he has
studiously endeavoured to avoid.

At this important point in the narrative it has been thought nothing
but reasonable to pause, before entering upon topics connected with
the last years of this eminent man.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                             CHAPTER XXVII

        _Prosper Mérimée; Empress Eugenie; Prince Imperial._


[Illustration]

It would appear to be taking a liberty with the reader—or, indeed,
what is far worse, to savour somewhat of bookmaking—to engraft a
biography on a biography. We have already promised to give some
account of the relations between Panizzi and Prosper Mérimée, the
well-known writer and French statesman, which account would be
incomplete were we to omit some special mention of Mérimée himself.
It may be asserted, moreover, that Mérimée deserves, on his own
intrinsic merit, a place in the memoir of Panizzi. Happily it has
been our pleasing task of late to edit the whole of the letters
which passed between them during their long friendship, and as
nothing affords a better insight into the true character of a man
than his familiar epistles to his friends, we shall make so bold as
to use these letters as freely as may appear desirable in this short
notice of the writer of them. It is much to be regretted that
Panizzi’s letters to Mérimée have all been destroyed, with the
exception of the very few already quoted, copies of which have been
found amongst his papers. In the time of the unhappy Commune, on the
23rd of May, 1871, amongst other and more important buildings,
Mérimée’s house was burnt down, and with it much which would have
been most valuable for our present purpose. _What has distressed me
most_, wrote a friend to Panizzi on this calamity, _was to see the
place where poor Mérimée’s house had been! It is a total wreck! All
his furniture, his fine library, his manuscripts, his letters, and
the thousand souvenirs of a long and intellectual lifetime all
reduced to ashes._ In conversation one day, Mons. Du Sommerard, of
the Hotel Cluny, whose name is frequently mentioned in Mérimée’s
letters, informed the present writer how he went to the spot shortly
after the fire, in the hope of saving a few little things as
souvenirs. But, alas! nothing was left as a relic of Prosper Mérimée
except an old pipe.

Happy indeed had he only succeeded in rescuing a picture of Mérimée
at five years old, painted by his mother, and another by Alexander
Colin, painted about 1865.

The biographer knew the house well, Number 52, Rue de Lille (Paris),
and remembers the room hung round with pictures of the Spanish
School and English line-engravings. In September, 1869, he stayed
with Mérimée. May his vanity in inserting the following record of
that visit be pardoned by the reader!

                                       “Paris, 15th September, 1869.

  “Mon cher Sir Anthony, _alias_ Pan,

          “J’ai eu la visite de Fagan, qui a diné avec moi Dimanche.
  Il m’a paru grandi et développé de toutes les manières, toujours
  très bon garçon, conservant malgré toutes les nationalités par où
  il a passé l’air de _l’English boy_.”

At what time and in what manner the acquaintance between Panizzi and
Mérimée began, we are unable to determine. It would be passing
strange, considering the position of the two men and their frequent
opportunities of meeting, the similarity of their tastes and
opinions, and the numerous attractions which the character of each
must have had for the other, if such acquaintance had never been
formed, and stranger still if it had failed to ripen into that
intimate and lasting friendship which afterwards subsisted between
them. Panizzi’s affection for his friend was intense, and he used
often to say (though we do not allege this as any proof of the
intensity of his friendship) that he was the best Frenchman for whom
he had ever formed a liking. Mérimée, who was a master of the
English language, an accomplishment which in his country ought to be
less remarkable than it is, was in the habit of spending a month or
so yearly in London. On these visits he always stayed at Panizzi’s
house. As regards his external characteristics, he was tall of
stature, upright in figure, and his eyes shone with remarkable
brilliancy; in manner the most pleasing of men. One of his minor
peculiarities was an extreme nicety in the matter of dress, which,
though not an unfailing sign of genius and culture, may be put down
to the credit of his good taste. And, indeed, what more can be said
in laudation of a finished gentleman’s taste than that he had all
his clothes made in London, and not only in London, but at Poole’s,
of which great artist Mérimée was the constant patron. This
fastidiousness of his was the cause of much facetiousness on the
part of Panizzi, to which, however, the other seems to have been not
altogether without means and opportunity of retort, that is to say,
if we rightly construe the following passage in one of his letters
containing a reflection on an article of Panizzi’s ordinary costume,
Mérimée in asking some information as to a picture of Lord
Spencer’s, says:—

                                          “Cannes, 5, Décembre 1857.

  “1^o. Dans le tableau que possède Lord Spencer, Julie d’Angennes,
  Duchesse de Montausier, est-elle en buste ou jusqu’à la ceinture?

  “2^o. Est-elle maigre, ou a-t-elle de l’embonpoint?

  “3^o. A-t-elle les cheveux noirs ou blonds, les yeux noirs ou
  bleus?

  “4^o. Peut-on discerner si elle a une belle taille et si elle est
  grande?

  “Si vous pouvez obtenir ce signalement avec l’exactitude d’un
  gendarme Autrichien (dont vous avez la robe de chambre), vous
  m’obligerez infiniment de me l’envoyer ici où je pense que M.
  Cousin ne tardera pas à venir.”

But in this friendly contest, if contest it may be called, Mérimée
had to deal with a less exquisitely polished wit than his own, a wit
which occasionally when Panizzi was, or pretended to be, more than
ordinarily annoyed by his friend’s extreme attention to his attire,
was developed in practical joking. One of Panizzi’s especial
dislikes, and for this he had sound patriotic grounds of
justification, was a peculiar cap, much of the kind worn by officers
of the Austrian army, which Mérimée persisted in wearing both in the
house and in the garden, known as the _Principal Librarian’s._ This
was so peculiarly an object of annoyance to the _Principal
Librarian_ that he once went so far as to purloin the cap and lock
it up, adding to the peculation the sin of denying to its owner that
he knew anything whatever about it. Nor, though the treachery was
discovered, is it on record that the rightful owner ever recovered
possession of his property. He had his revenge, however. That the
ghost of the victim should haunt the criminal, Mérimée made a
drawing of the cap, which he placed every morning at breakfast, and
every evening at dinner, in Panizzi’s napkin. The kind of footing on
which Mérimée was at the British Museum may be gathered from the
following self-invitation to Panizzi’s:—

                                             “Paris, 14 Avril, 1858.

  “Vous recevrez de toute façon un mot de moi, qui vous marquera
  précisément le jour de mon entrée dans la ville de Londres.
  D’autre part, il se trouve que ma cousine est un peu malade, en
  sorte que son mari reste à Paris.

  J’irai donc, si vous voulez le permettre, droit au British Museum
  à mon arrivée.—Cependant il faut que nous fassions nos
  conditions.—La première, c’est que vous ne vous dérangerez
  absolument en rien pour moi; que vous irez dîner en ville et
  passer vos soirées comme vous en avez l’habitude, sans vous
  inquiéter en rien de ce que deviendra votre serviteur, qui est
  assez pratique de Londres pour n’y pas mourir de faim ni même
  d’ennui.”

At the Museum Mérimée was well known and a great favourite with the
whole staff. In this he took just pride:—

                                      “Londres, Mardi, 7 Août, 1860.

  “Je reviens du British Museum qui m’a paru tout sombre depuis
  votre absence. M. Bond m’a montré un tres beau manuscript qu’on
  vient d’acheter pour soixante livres sterling. Les _messengers_ et
  les _attendants_ m’ont reconnu et ont été aussi aimables pour moi
  qu’à l’ordinaire.”

Prosper Mérimée was born at Paris on the 28th of September, 1803.
His father, Jean François Léonore, was a painter of some eminence.
Prosper was educated at the Collège Charlemagne, whence he passed
the course of _Ecole de Droit_, and in after years as is well-known
took an honourable position in political life. It is not, however,
our office here to enter on a history of Mérimée’s career, which, as
well as his published works, has been too long before the world to
demand particular notice at our hands. Seeing that we have been
simply the mechanical means of introducing to the public his letters
to Panizzi, we hold it to be no transgression of the limits of
modesty most heartily to commend these as among the best specimens
of the art of letter writing that can well be found in any language.
Upon them we shall principally rely for our information about
Mérimée; nor, indeed, seeing that we have treated of him mainly in
his character of Panizzi’s friend, should we think ourselves
justified in travelling very far beyond their contents. Unstudied
and unartificial, unrevised after being written, as is plain from
the careless repetition that abounds in them, and written with no
purpose of meeting any eye but their recipient’s, they present a
clearer reflection of the writer’s mind than could be obtained from
more elaborate compositions.

Moreover, the multitude of interesting subjects treated in them
gives them a value for general history as well as an insight into
the disposition and actions of their author.

In politics, Mérimée was of the school commonly known as
Liberal-Conservative. He seems to have been singularly free from the
gregarious instinct of his race and countrymen, who, to genuine
liberty, are apt to prefer enforced equality, which, from the
insupportable tyranny of the mob, leads, in nine cases out of ten,
to the Despotism of the Dictator. Of the great political principle
of vesting the Sovereign power in that quarter where the greatest
number of noses are to be counted, he had the most genuine horror,
as also of the instrument towards that end, universal suffrage, to
which he expressed fears lest the reforms at that time projected in
England should cause the nation to drift. It is natural that he
should couple the expression of his fears with the praise of one,
the moderation of whose opinions on this point he must heartily have
approved:—

                                             “Cannes, 10 Mars, 1867.

  “En ce qui concerne la réforme, il me semble toujours que le beau
  rôle est à notre ami M. Lowe. Lui seul est dans le vrai et a le
  courage de son opinion. Ménager la chèvre et le chou est chose
  bien difficile, et je ne crois pas possible de faire une réforme
  définitive. Autant vaut prétendre s’arrêter au milieu d’une
  glissade que de fixer les conditions du droit électoral pour
  toujours ou même pour longtemps. Si on détruit ce qui existe, on
  ne retardera guère le suffrage universel.”

Happily we have not arrived as yet quite so far as that, although
could Mérimée now see us, he might possibly be disturbed at finding
that his forebodings of evil were not wholly without foundation, and
that he was justified in predicting that tendency on our part
towards the American system of politics which he so much disliked.
Altogether he views England and its institutions from a strong
Conservative standpoint, which position, however, enables him to be
a good deal more complimentary to us than to his own countrymen:—

                                             “Cannes, 2 Avril, 1866.

  “Tout le monde devient-il fou? C’est ce que je me demande souvent
  en lisant les journaux. Je ne parle pas seulement des Allemands
  dont c’est l’état habituel, mais des gens que je suis habitué à
  considérer comme possesseurs de la plus haute dose de raison qui
  ait été accordée à la nature humaine. Cette affaire du ‘Reform
  Bill’ chez vous me semble de plus en plus incompréhensible et je
  suis désolé que Mr. Gladstone y ait mis les mains. Que cela
  réussisse cette fois ou non, je ne crois pas que le vieux prestige
  de l’Angleterre survive à cette épreuve. Elle est comme un vieux
  bâtiment encore très solide, mais qui menace de s’écrouler dès
  qu’on y fait des réparations maladroites. Ce qui me frappe
  surtout, c’est l’imprévoyance ou plutôt l’insouciance de l’avenir
  de la part de vos hommes d’Etat. C’est tout à fait le 'furia
  francese’ qui cherche en tout la satisfaction du moment. Vous
  paraissez croire que le ministère se trouvera en minorité, mais on
  dit qu’il fera une dissolution dans l’espoir que les élections
  faites sous la pression démocratique lui seront favorables. A en
  juger par le ton du _Times_ qui semble désespérer, je serais tenté
  de croire que, dans ce Parlement même, la majorité est fort
  incertaine et que les Ministres actuels ont d’assez grandes
  chances de succès. Vous me parlez de Lord Stanley comme “Premier”
  probable, et en même temps de M. Lowe comme devant occuper une
  place importante dans un nouveau Cabinet.”

The most old-fashioned politicians amongst us, however they might
regret the decadence of old systems and deplore those changes which
time and necessity have forced upon us, would probably hardly have
the courage to utter such words as these:—

                                            “Dimanche, 13 Mai, 1866.

  “Je ne comprends pas grand’chose au second ‘Bill’ de réforme. Il
  me semble seulement que c’est un grand coup de marteau dans le
  vieil édifice. Le résultat sera de diminuer la ‘qualité’ des
  membres du Parlement, laquelle n’est pas déjà si brillante. Je
  vois dans les journaux qu’on se félicite de voir ôter aux fils de
  grandes maisons, des bourgs qui étaient à leur dévotion. A mon
  sens, c’était un des beaux côtés de l’Angleterre que cette
  initiation de jeunes aristocrates à la vie politique dès leur
  sortie de l’Université. C’est ainsi que Fox, Pitt et Lord
  Palmerston sont devenus de bonne heure des hommes d’Etat. Vous
  aurez en place des industriels et des négociants, c’est-à-dire des
  niais et des esprits étroits, excluant systématiquement toute
  grandeur de la politique. On fera ainsi une Angleterre
  semi-démocratique inférieure à beaucoup d’égards à la vraie et
  terrible démocratie des Etats-Unis.”

Some of his compatriots, while admitting the _good sense_ and
_experience_ shown in the general proposition contained in the
following passage may not be quite so ready to admit its application
to their own particular notions:—

                                          “Cannes, 22 Février, 1866.

  “Nous avons nos Fenians cent fois plus dangereux et plus nombreux
  qu’ils ne le sont en Irlande. Donnez à ces gens là les libertés
  qu’ils réclament et que M. Thiers dit être nécessaires à tous les
  peuples, vous aurez en trois mois une révolution. Le plus grand
  malheur qui puisse arriver à un peuple est, je crois, d’avoir des
  institutions plus avancées que son intelligence. Lorsqu’on demande
  pour la France les institutions des Anglais, il faudrait pouvoir
  leur donner d’abord le bon sens et l’expérience qui les rendent
  praticables.”

It remains a question yet to be decided how far this people, which
imitates English institutions before it understands them, will be
competent to manage a Republic of their own. His praise of the
decision and energy of our colonial authorities in the celebrated
Eyre and Gordon case is not unalloyed with a dash of sarcasm, but
here also there is no reason to doubt that what he says of his own
country is meant in earnest:—

                                         “Cannes, 18 Décembre, 1865.

  “J’admire beaucoup l’affaire de la Jamaïque. L’Angleterre trouve
  toujours des hommes énergiques à la hauteur des plus graves
  circonstances, et non seulement énergiques, mais assez dévoués
  pour risquer les plus grandes énormités, si elles sont
  nécessaires. Il me semble qu’on a pendu beaucoup plus qu’il ne
  fallait, peut-être même les gens qu’il ne fallait pas; mais
  l’insurrection a été arrêtée net, et l’exemple durera, même si
  l’on désavoue le gouverneur. Voilà la véritable politique,
  malheureusement impratiquée et peut-être impraticable dans ce
  pays-ci.”

He is not, however, it pains us to record, so lenient a judge of
English foreign policy, under Lord Russell and Lord Palmerston, as
he is a fervent admirer of the energy of our Colonial Governors, and
of the beauties of our constitution in general. Indeed he seems
occasionally a little unnecessarily severe, as, for instance, when
he says:—

                                              “Paris, 14 Mars, 1865.

  “Est-ce la vieillesse qui règne dans le Cabinet Britannique, ou
  bien est-ce calcul de gens qui ont fait un bon coup à la Bourse et
  qui ne veulent plus se risquer? Quoi qu’il en soit, vos Ministres
  affichent la poltronnerie avec trop d’éclat. Rien n’est plus bête
  que d’être fanfaron, mais il est dangereux, outre ridicule, de se
  poser en poltron. C’est le moyen d’avoir tous les faux braves à
  ses trousses.”

And in the following extracts, in reference to Lord Palmerston, he
shows himself scarcely so far-sighted as might be expected of him:—

                                                  “24 Octobre, 1865.

  “Reste à savoir ce que dira la postérité. Pour moi, je crois
  qu’elle aura un terrible blâme pour sa conduite dans les affaires
  d’Amérique; s’il eût fait avec la France le traité qu’on lui
  proposait, il aurait sauvé la vie à quelques centaines de mille
  yankees (ce qui n’est pas très à regretter); mais il aurait encore
  détourné de l’Europe une abominable influence qui pourra bien un
  jour devenir une intervention active.”

                                           “Paris, 25 Juillet, 1870.

  “L’Angleterre a perdu son prestige en Europe. II y a quelques
  années elle aurait pu empêcher la guerre. En s’unissant à la
  France, elle aurait pu diviser à jamais l’Amérique en deux états
  rivaux; elle aurait pu prévenir la scandaleuse invasion du
  Danemark, et aujourd’hui nous serions probablement tranquilles.”

On the case of Denmark we refrain from remarking, but the policy
recommended towards America might have been hard for that country,
and assuredly would have been worse for England, however much some
amongst us may have admired the chivalry of the South, and
mistrusted the declared motives of those who (there never could have
been much doubt at the time) would in the long run have come
victorious out of the struggle. Few could seriously suppose that the
power of England, even had there been a means of exercising it,
would have been of much avail to prevent the ill-feeling which
Mérimée admits to have been long smouldering between France and
Germany from breaking out into war. After this criticism of our own,
it is but fair to record a tribute to Lord Palmerston’s worth in
another letter:—

                                           “Paris, 24 Octobre, 1865.

  “La mort de Lord Palmerston est une belle mort, telle que je la
  voudrais pour moi et pour mes amis. Il a été l’homme le plus
  heureux de ce siècle. Il a fait presque toujours tout ce qu’il a
  voulu, et il a voulu de bonnes et belles choses. Il a eu beaucoup
  d’amis. Il laisse un grand nom et un souvenir ineffaçable chez
  ceux qui l’ont connu. Si vous trouvez moyen de me nommer à Lady
  Palmerston quand vous la verrez, vous m’obligerez. Vous pouvez lui
  dire qu’ici la presse a été unanime dans ses éloges. On a fait,
  bien entendu, force _blunders_ historiques et autres, à cette
  occasion, entre autres de dire que Lady Palmerston était morte,
  etc., etc., mais il n’y a pas eu de méchancetés d’aucune part, et
  dans tous les partis on a été respectueux; c’est un hommage bien
  rare en France, comme vous savez. L’Empereur et l’Impératrice ont
  montré beaucoup de regret en petit comité; je crois qu’ils ont
  écrit à Milady.”

_De omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis_ might be the collective title,
and may be truly called the proper text of Mérimée’s letters to
Panizzi. But it would be as hopeless to attempt to follow the critic
_omnium rerum, et quarundam aliarum_, through all the variations of
English politics that happened in his time, as to review the
numerous works with which he has amused and instructed mankind, or
to recount the offices he filled, from his place in the Senate of
France and his membership of the “Académie Française” to his office
of Commissioner at the London Exhibition of 1862, or the several
ways in which he did good service to art and to the State. One
subject, then, only shall be added on what may be called public
politics, viz., an opinion on the Eastern question, which, even if
Mérimée’s prophecy has not been actually fulfilled according to the
very letter, shows, at least, a pretty sound notion of the stability
of the Turkish Empire:—

                                          “Paris, 3 Septembre, 1861.

  “J’ai eu des nouvelles de Constantinople, où l’on se moque
  beaucoup des histoires qu’on a faites de la chasteté du Sultan, et
  de son goût pour l’eau pure. L’un est aussi vrai que l’autre; mais
  son grand goût pour le moment, c’est pour les poules. Il vient de
  commander un poulailler de cinq cent mille francs pour élever ses
  volailles. Voilà comme il entend l’économie! Croyez que nous
  aurons, d’ici à peu de temps, des choses sérieuses en Orient, qui
  donneront un cruel démenti à Lord Palmerston, lequel veut
  absolument que l’Empire Turc se tienne debout tant qu’il vivra. Je
  crois la Porte beaucoup plus près de sa fin que Mylord.”

Mérimée was an author before he attained his twenty-second year. He
wrote a collection of plays, published under the pseudonym of Clara
Gazul, a Spanish authoress, and alleged to be translated by Joseph
L’Estrange, an equally fictitious personage. Concerning this book
and its originator, we quote the words of a writer of the time:—

  “Ceux qui n’étaient pas dans le secret auraient difficilement
  reconnu un jeune homme à ces caractères dessinés avec tant de
  précision et de relief, à cette absence de déclamation, à ce style
  correct, ferme et nerveux, qui ne trahissait nulle part
  l’hésitation d’un débutant.”

One of the best imaginary plays was entitled “Les Espagnols en
Danemark,” and was a satire directed by Mérimée against the
extravagant laudation bestowed by certain people from hatred to the
restoration on the régime of the first Napoleon. Whatever Mérimée
may have thought of the First, he was on the best of terms with the
ruler of the Second Empire. It would perhaps be a little rash as yet
to assert positively that the last of the dynasty who had the
slightest chance of attaining to future eminence has passed away,
but it is a truism that requires no apology that it will be long ere
the past fortunes of the house lose their interest for the reader of
history, and some of the many anecdotes and other matters related in
his letters to Panizzi by Mérimée, who was a constant guest of the
Emperor and Empress, wherein he describes the inner life of the
family, may be profitably reproduced. Here is an account of an
innocent practical joke played on an enthusiastic German lady, which
must have afforded some amusement to the perpetrators of it:—

                                           “Paris, 13 Octobre, 1805.

  “Madame de L—— en sa qualité d’Allemande admirait fort M. de
  Bismark, et nous la tourmentions en la menaçant des hardiesses de
  ce grand homme qu’elle semblait encourager. Il y a quelques jours
  j’ai peint et découpé la tête de M. de Bismark très ressemblante,
  et le soir Leurs Majestés et moi nous sommes entrés dans la
  chambre de Madame de L—— Nous avons mis la tête sur le lit, un
  traversin sous les draps pour représenter la bosse formée par un
  corps humain, puis l’Impératrice a mis sur le front un mouchoir
  arrangé comme bonnet de nuit. Dans le demi-jour de la chambre,
  l’illusion était complète. Quand Leurs Majestés se sont retirées,
  nous avons retenu quelque temps Madame de L—— pour que l’Empereur
  et l’Impératrice allassent se poster au bout du corridor, puis
  chacun a fait mine d’entrer dans sa chambre. Madame de L—— est
  entrée dans la sienne, y est restée, puis en est sortie
  précipitamment et est venue frapper à la porte de Madame de X——,
  en lui disant d’une voix lamentable: “Il y a un homme dans mon
  lit!” Malheureusement Madame de X—— n’a pas gardé son sérieux, et
  à l’autre bout du corridor, les rires de l’Impératrice ont tout
  gâté. Le bon est ce que nous avons appris plus tard. Un des valets
  de pied de l’Empereur était entré dans la chambre de Madame de L——
  et apercevant la tête s’était retiré avec de grandes excuses. Puis
  il était allé dire qu’il y avait un homme dans le lit. Quelques
  uns avaient émis l’opinion que c’était M. de L—— qui venait pour
  coucher avec sa femme, mais cette hypothèse avait été rejetée
  comme improbable. Eugène qui m’avait vu fabriquer le portrait a
  empêché qu’on n’allat vérifier l’affaire.”

Another great source of amusement must have been the Turkish
Ambassador of the period,—of whom we read:—

                                            “Château de Compiégne,
                                                 “16 Novembre, 1865.

  “Nous avons ici l’Ambassadeur de Turquie, Safvet-Pacha, qui parle
  bien Français pour un Turc. Il est assis à la droite de
  l’Impératrice, et hier, pendant le dîner, il lui dit: _Il y a une
  bien ridicule lettre sur l’Algérie dans le journal_.—Vous savez
  que tous les journaux ont répété la lettre de l’Empereur au
  Maréchal Mac-Mahon.—Voilà l’Impératrice qui rougit et, inquiète
  pour le pauvre Turc, elle lui dit: _Vous connaissez l’auteur de la
  lettre?_—Non; _mais je sais bien que c’est un embécile!_ Tous ceux
  qui écoutaient étaient prêts à crever de rire. _Maise c’est de
  l’Empereur!_ s’é cria l’Impératrice. _Pas du tout_, répond
  l’Ambassadeur; _c’est d’un abbé qui veut convertir les
  Mussulmans_. Effectivement, je ne sais quel prêtre avait mis ce
  jour là une tartine que personne n’avait remarquée. Vous qui
  connaissez l’Impératrice et la mobilité de son expression, vous
  pouvez vous représenter la scène au naturel.”

                                          “Paris, 22 Novembre, 1865.

  “J’ai trouvé à Compiègne Leurs Majestés en très bonne santé, ainsi
  que le Prince Impérial. On a passé le temps assez gravement sans
  charades ni facéties semblables. II n’y a eu qu’une lanterne
  chinoise dont M. Leverrier, l’astronome, était le montreur. Il
  nous a fait voir des photographies de la lune et des planètes
  comme on montre à la foire les sept merveilles du monde.
  L’Ambassadeur Turc, qui, probablement, s’attendait à voir
  Caragneux ou quelque autre spectacle aussi anacréontique, a
  presque protesté, et a déclaré qu’il ne croyait pas un mot de tout
  ce qu’on venait de lui dire du soleil.”

Nor must a notice of the visit of the Emperor to Algeria in this
year be omitted:—

                                                     “23 Juin, 1865.

  “L’Empereur nous a conté son voyage dont il paraît enchanté. Ne
  trouvez vous pas extraordinaire qu’après avoir eu quatre ou cinq
  cents mille hommes tués par les chrétiens, après avoir eu beaucoup
  de leurs femmes violées, après avoir perdu leur autonomie et je ne
  sais combiens d’_items_, les arabes aient reçu si admirablement le
  chef des gens qui ont fait tout cela. Sa Majesté est allée dans le
  grand désert avec une vingtaine de Français, tout au plus et est
  restée quarante-huit heures au milieu de quinze à vingt mille
  Sahariens qui lui ont tiré des coups de fusil aux oreilles (c’est
  la manière de saluer du pays) et ont nettoyé ses bottes avec leurs
  barbes. Pas un seul n’a montré la moindre revanche. On lui a donné
  des bœufs entiers rôtis, on lui a fait manger des autruches et
  je ne sais quelles autres bêtes impossibles, mais partout il a été
  reçu comme un souverain aimé. Il en est très fier et très content.
  Il m’a demandé de vos nouvelles. Je n’ai pas dit un mot de vos
  projets.”

To enter now on more serious matters. The Nemesis of France governed
for so many years on the _panem_ and _circenses_ system, and
corrupted to the core, must have been hard to face, when the day of
trial came for Napoleon III.

                                              “Paris, 11 Août, 1870.

  “J’ai vu avant-hier l’Impératrice. Elle est ferme comme un roc,
  bien qu’elle ne se dissimule pas toute l’horreur de sa situation.
  Je ne doute pas que l’Empereur ne se fasse tuer, car il ne peut
  rentrer ici que vainqueur et une victoire est impossible. Rien de
  prêt chez nous. Tout manque à la fois. Partout, du désordre. Si
  nous avions des généraux et des ministres rien ne serait perdu,
  car il y a certainement beaucoup d’enthousiasme et de patriotisme
  dans le pays. Mais avec l’anarchie, les meilleurs éléments ne
  servent de rien. Paris est tranquille, mais si on distribue des
  armes aux faubourgs comme le demande Jules Favre, c’est une
  nouvelle armée prussienne que nous avons sur les bras.”

Concerning the unfortunate Prince Imperial, Mérimée’s letters
contain a good deal of matter which in these days assumes a very
melancholy complexion, more especially in adverting to that fair
promise of success, both in arts and arms, which his early life
indicated:—

[Illustration]

                                              “Paris, 23 Juin, 1865.

  “Votre favori le Prince, que vous ne reconnaîtriez plus, taut il
  est grandi et formé, a les dispositions les plus extraordinaires
  pour la sculpture. Un artiste nommé Carpeaux,[K] qui a beaucoup de
  talent, a fait son portrait; lorsqu’il l’a vu pétrir de la terre
  glaise, il a naturellement eu envie de mettre la main à la pâte et
  a fait un portrait de son père, qui est atrocement ressemblant;
  mais bien que ce soit gâché comme un bon homme de mie de pain,
  l’observation des proportions est extraordinaire. Il a fait encore
  un combat d’un cavalier contre un fantassin plein de mouvement. On
  voit qu’il sait manier un cheval et qu’il a appris l’escrime à la
  bayonnette. Mais le plus extraordinaire c’est le portrait de son
  précepteur, M. Mounier, que vous aimez tant. Je vous jure que vous
  le reconnaîtriez d’un bout de la court du British Museum à
  l’autre. Ce ne sont pas seulement ses traits, mais son expression.
  Tout le génie de l’homme se révèle dans ses yeux, son nez, et ses
  moustaches. Je suis sûr qu’il y a peu de sculpteurs de profession
  qui pourraient en faire autant.”

                                           “Biarritz, Villa Eugénie,
                                               21 Septembre, 1865.

  “L’Empereur et le Prince Impérial sont parfaitement bien. Le
  Prince est grandi; sa figure est un peu allongée. Il est toujours
  aussi actif et aussi gentil que vous l’avez connu. Il m’a demandé
  de vos nouvelles ainsi que leurs Majestés, et cent cinquante
  pourquoi? à l’occasion de votre retraite. J’ai dit que vous étiez
  devenu philosophe et paresseux, mais que cela ne vous empêcherait
  pas de venir faire votre cour quand vous passeriez par la France.”

The lad seems to have had his full allowance of courage, and to have
been thoroughly imbued with a knowledge of his own position and
dignity:—

                                           “Paris, 15 Octobre, 1867.

  “Vous ai-je dit le mot du Prince à Saint-Jean de Luz? Leur canot
  par une nuit très obscure (N.B. un prêtre était à bord) a donné
  contre un rocher. La nuit était si noire que personne n’a vu le
  pilote qui était à l’avant tomber et se fracasser la tête et se
  noyer. Les matelots se sont jetés à la mer ayant de l’eau
  jusqu’aux aiselles et par dessus la tête quand la vague déferlait.
  Ils ont porté ainsi le Prince sur le rocher trempé jusqu’aux os.
  L’Impératrice lui criait: ‘N’aie pas peur Louis.’ Il à répondu:
  ‘Je m’appelle Napoléon.’ Cela m’a été conté par deux témoins,
  Brissac et M. de Lavallette.”

At a very early age he appears to have entered with ardour into his
future profession:—

                                                     “26 Août, 1869.

  “Le Prince Impérial a eu beaucoup de succès au camp de Châlons. Il
  avait tant d’aplomb, et tenait son rang si bien, qu’on croyait
  voir le père rajeuni. Bachon son écuyer, que vous connaissez, me
  dit qu’il n’y a pas un Prince pour passer une revue comme lui, sur
  un grand cheval, qui piaffe de côté, du pas le plus égal tout le
  long d’une ligne d’infanterie, sans que la musique ou les éclairs
  des reflets du soleil sur les fusils lui fassent perdre la piste.”

To one of Mérimée’s letters the Empress herself adds the conclusion
and signature. Her words in the following extracts are in italics.

                                      “Biarritz, 27 Septembre, 1863.

  “Nous avons eu un très agréable voyage de Tarbes à Pau et à
  Biarritz. Vos commissions ont été fidèlement remplies et aussitôt
  que possible. Je suis chargé pour vous de tous les compliments et
  tendresses des dames et des messieurs à commencer par deux
  augustes personnages. Adieu et portez-vous bien.

  _Je veux vous dire, mon cher M. Panizzi, tout le regret que j’ai
  de ne plus vous avoir parmi nous. Je vous demande de vouloir bien
  me conserver un de vos bons et meilleurs souvenirs._

                                    _Votre alliée politique_,
                                                           EUGÉNIE.”

These letters to Panizzi must not, however, cause us to lose
ourselves in a labyrinth of quotations and remarks.

It is to be feared that enough has already been placed before the
reader to spoil his enjoyment of the collection itself, and more
than enough to fulfil our own purpose of throwing light on Mérimée’s
life and opinions from the letters themselves. By no means always,
but certainly sometimes, it has happened that absolute dependence on
some more solid reward than popular applause has tended to fetter
the pen of a brilliant writer. It is equally true that what is done
by men for their diversion is frequently of superior merit to that
which is the product of sheer necessity, and we have often thought,
though this, we admit, may be but fancy, that the peculiar facility
conspicuous throughout Mérimée’s works might be traced to the fact
that, being placed by fortune above necessity, he wrote as one in no
way enforced, and as much for his own pleasure as for the amusement
of his readers. The style of some of his lighter works, it may be
remarked _en passant_, reminds one strongly of some of Voltaire’s
_Romans_, than which there can assuredly be no higher praise.

Of artist blood on the side both of his father and mother, he
inherited much of his parents’ ability, and has left behind a goodly
stock of productions, of which (_Exceptis Excipiendis_ for one, at
least, might be objected to on the ground of propriety) it is much
to be wished that a collection could be made.

Readers of these letters to Panizzi, and, indeed, of other of
Mérimée’s works, can hardly fail to notice how greatly he, in common
with his friend and correspondent, was affected by a malady, and
that no imaginary one, common enough amongst the Roman Catholic
nations, but little known in this country—the hatred of priests.

Nor is it much to be wondered at that, in countries where the Church
seems to exist for itself alone, and not for that purpose for which
it is supposed to have been founded—the benefit of mankind—where it
dwells as a foreign authority, ever busied in jealously watching the
temporal power, and opposing all that may be done for the cause of
civilization and political advancement, simply because done by the
State—the well-drilled officials of such a system should be viewed
by the patriot and statesman, by a Panizzi, a Mérimée, or a Cavour,
with mistrust and dislike. The letter to Panizzi, however,
announcing the death and burial of Mérimée, with which this chapter
concludes, shows a result not always brought about by this feeling
of hatred of priests; yet we cannot but think that Mérimée had
ceased to be a Roman Catholic in the strict sense of the term,
rather than become a Protestant of any kind, and that his express
desire for the place and manner of his burial is to be taken more as
a protest against the creed of his birth than as a sign of his
acceptance of any other. However this may be, it is hard to acquit
the priests of the charge of alienating yet another eminent man from
that communion.

Mérimée suffered greatly during the last years of his life, and for
a long time before his death was, according to his letters to
Panizzi, in something like a moribund state, enduring, in fact, a
living death:—

                                       “Cannes,
                                            24th of September, 1870.

  “My dear Sir,

          You loved my dear Prosper well—he loved you. I know you
  will be grieved to hear he is gone. He died last night without a
  struggle. All that devoted affection and care could do was done
  for him. This is a consolation for me to reflect on. The horrid
  political events have certainly shortened his days. I need not say
  how miserable I am. We are at Cannes without a friend, for Dr.
  Maure is at Grasse, and none of our acquaintances have come yet.
  Dear Prosper often wondered and regretted that you did not write
  to him since he left Paris.

                                             Yours, &c., &c.,
                                                         J. LAGDEN.”

And from another friend Panizzi received the following:—

  “Our poor friend is no more. He passed away in his sleep so
  tranquilly they thought he was sleeping. He was buried, by his
  express desire, in our Protestant Cemetery, as a Protestant. I
  always thought that he would direct this to be done, if he died at
  Cannes.”

[Illustration]

[Illustration]



                             CHAPTER XXVIII

_Senator of Italy; Correspondence; Illness; Priests; Athenæum Club,
    Knighthood; Friends; Death; Etching; The End._


Our book approaches the end. Such materials as we have deemed it
expedient to use in recording the events of a laborious life are
almost exhausted, and it is necessary to look around and see that
nothing has been omitted which may tend to illustrate Panizzi’s
unaspiring yet truly estimable character. Had he sought worldly
distinctions he might have had more than his share of such
unenduring and too often unmerited tokens of flattery. Those that he
did accept were for the most part received with extreme shyness, if
not with genuine reluctance. They were forced upon him, nor did he
assume them until he was out of office.

In the autumn of 1865, Panizzi received a letter from Signor
Nicomede Bianchi, announcing that the King of Italy desired to
create him a Senator of the Kingdom. Conscious of his official
position, he felt great difficulty and delicacy in accepting the
high honour intended to be conferred upon him, and applied to Mr.
Gladstone, as was his almost invariable custom, for guidance and
advice. He received the following answer:—

                                                      “September 30,
                                                          1865.

  “Upon reading your very interesting letter, I, like you, feel
  myself in a strait. I am loth to say anything that may tend to
  even your partial removal from among us; yet I cannot doubt that
  if a fair regard to your health and personal comfort will permit,
  you should accept the offer of the King of Italy. I know not what
  will be the precise effect on the convenience of the existing
  Administration, or even on the Museum. But without stopping—for I
  must not stop—to ask, I think that, considering the difficulty and
  importance of constituting a Second Chamber or Senate and of doing
  it in the best manner, and the advantage to it of your character,
  prowess, long English experience, and thorough knowledge of our
  constitution, I feel that you have before you a door opened for
  rendering great services to your _other_ country in the hour of
  her need, and that such an opportunity cannot be generously
  refused, though I hope acceptance will not practically remove you
  from us. I rather blush while writing thus. Perhaps you will
  consult some other friend. On my own responsibility I mentioned
  the matter recently to my host. He agrees with me.

  “The great Italian question needs all the strength that can be
  applied to it ... I must not omit to say that while I have written
  the first part of this letter with very mixed feelings, I dwell
  with unmingled pleasure on the high and honourable and most just
  tribute which this offer pays to your character, abilities, and
  distinctions.

                         “Believe me ever
                                     “Your attached friend,
                                                  “W. E. GLADSTONE.”

Three years afterwards—on the 12th of March, 1868—Victor Emmanuel
confirmed the proposed appointment, and on the 22nd of April
following made Panizzi a Commander of the Order of the Crown of
Italy. A letter, dated April 15th, to Mrs. Haywood, refers to this
subject:—

“It is more than three years that I am offered to be made a Senator
in Italy, it is a great honour. I begged to be excused, and I only
accepted it when it was offered by the present Minister Menabrea, a
man of honour and character. The offer came after the Mentana
affair, that is at the time that poor Italy was most unfairly run
down by everybody. I did not think I ought to shrink from doing what
I could for my native country at such a moment, and had I not been
taken ill as I was, I should have gone at once to take my seat.”

The last words refer to an attack which, in January, 1868, reached a
climax so severe that his life was despaired of by his medical
advisers. His friends were unremitting in their attentions; amongst
them may be specially named Mr. Winter Jones, Mr. Newton, Sir James
Lacaita, and Mr. C. Cannon. The sufferer rallied, and when he had
attained sufficient strength went for a short time to Hastings, the
air of which watering-place greatly benefited him.

This illness must not be dismissed from notice without placing
before our readers a most characteristic extract from a “Memorandum”
which speaks for itself:—

                                    “31, Bloomsbury Square,
                                                     April 14, 1868.

  “It having come to my knowledge that during my last illness a
  _priest_, who had never been called in by me or by my orders,
  pushed himself into my house, when he was with great difficulty
  hindered from forcing himself into my bedroom, where I was lying
  very ill, he alleging that he had been sent by some nameless or
  unknown person; in order to prevent so vile and so impudent an
  attempt from being successful if repeated, I warmly beseech my
  medical attendants, as well as my true friends, and I order my
  servants to forbid by all means in their power any person not sent
  for by me, or not known as one whose visit I should like to
  receive, from having access to my presence, were he unfortunately
  admitted into the house.”

It may seem strange to some that Panizzi thus strongly and decidedly
expressed himself in regard to a priest of his own Church: it can
scarcely appear, however, in this light to any one who has
attentively studied his character, as pourtrayed in these pages.
However disinterested might be the zeal of the Roman clergy—and even
of this the sick man seems to have had some little doubt—the
officious importunity of this particular ecclesiastic was hardly
fitted to commend him to the patient, whom an assumption of
spiritual authority would have disgusted at all times; it was,
therefore, but natural that he should resent the attempted intrusion
of a stranger on his presumed helplessness.

He knew all the insidious arts of the Church to which he nominally
belonged, and of the religion which he always professed; at the same
time he was perfectly aware of the character of the doctrines which,
even with the best intentions, the most worthy of the Romish
priesthood are bound to inculcate. Knowing all this, he avoided
controversy on the subject: if it were introduced in conversation,
he would say, _I am a Roman Catholic_, and there was an end. Such
being his ordinary frame of mind, his indignation was aroused at any
attempt to pester him on analogous themes in his state of
prostration.

No more need be said here to account for the peremptoriness of the
“Memorandum.”

About this period Panizzi wrote from Montpellier to the biographer,
then travelling in South America:—“As you know, I have been very
ill, and I really thought I should not see you again. I hear you are
likely to come back. My expenses are frightful, or I should offer to
pay your voyage. This climate, or rather Italy, would suit me very
well; I could not live in France. The French, and especially the
Emperor, have behaved very ill, perhaps cruelly to Italy. On the
other hand, the Italians have acted like idiots. I should pass my
time arguing and getting angry: so, if I can succeed, I shall return
to England; but probably I shall die on the road.“

The present writer returned in June, 1869, and with great regret
clearly perceived the ravages in his friend’s appearance caused by
the late severe illness.

Many attempts had been made by friends to induce Panizzi to allow
his name to be proposed to the committee of the Athenæum Club for
election as a member. Sir Roderick Murchison wrote to him “that he
would really be much gratified in seeing those services recognised
in the manner he proposed by his (Panizzi’s) contemporaries in
science, art, and letters.” To this proposal, honourable as it was,
he did not accede. Sir Roderick did not allow the matter to drop,
but, in the beginning of 1866, wrote again pressing the subject on
his consideration thus: “The moment has arrived when the men of
letters, science, and art, who constitute the committee of the
Athenæum Club, _ought_ to recognise your merit by electing you as a
member on our list of _eminently distinguished_ candidates.”

Hereupon Panizzi overcame his scruples, and acquiesced in the
proposal. Sir Roderick was very much gratified, a feeling shared by
the Dean of St. Paul’s, as the words of the former show. He said he
“was so fortunate as to meet the Dean of St. Paul’s, who joyfully
became the seconder, saying that he never signed any document
whatever with greater satisfaction.”

An unforeseen difficulty, however, arose, which Sir Roderick thus
communicated:—

                                                “February 6th, 1866.

  “My dear Panizzi,

          “My efforts have been frustrated, to my deep regret, and
  that of all those men of eminence in science, letters, and art,
  whose opinion you value. After I saw you, accident placed me in
  the position to ascertain that _no arguments_ of mine would or
  could change the resolve of one of the Committee to _veto_ your
  election, in case you obtained a majority of votes; and therefore,
  after giving the strongest reasons I could for thinking that you
  were singularly and highly qualified to be selected as one of our
  eminent nine, I withdrew your name.

  The reason assigned for this opposition was, that as you were
  unpopular with a certain number of men in the Club _at large_, the
  Committee ought not to go against their feelings.

  I protested against this doctrine on my own part; the more so as
  the gentleman, who acted in a frank and honourable manner in
  letting me know his resolve, had assured me that he had a high
  opinion of your capacity, acquirements, and character.

  The result has given me great pain; for though your selection as a
  member of the Athenæum could be of no real value to you, and could
  not have added an iota to your well-earned and high reputation, it
  would have been a true gratification to myself to have had the
  opportunity of meeting you more frequently, now that you have
  retired from the office in which you have so distinguished
  yourself.

  I may add that Sir Stafford Northcote and Lord Stanhope both
  expressed their regret that the step I took was rendered
  imperative, and many others have since spoken to me in the same
  sense.

  I enclose the letters of the Dean of St. Paul’s and Mr. Grote,
  whose sentiments I expressed to the meeting; assuring my auditors
  that the Trustees of the British Museum would endorse those
  sentiments. Not a word was said by anyone against you, or against
  the terms in which I proposed you.

                                  Ever yours sincerely,
                                                 ROD. I. MURCHISON.”

Already Dean Milman had written the following letter, a short
sentence from which has been quoted in a former chapter, and is now
reproduced for the sake of the context:—

                                       “Deanery, St. Paul’s,
                                                 February 5th, 1866.

  “My dear Sir Roderick,

          I greatly rejoice that you are about to propose our friend
  Panizzi for election at the Athenæum.

  I know few persons for whom, if on the Committee, I should have
  voted with a more clear conscience, or with more earnest desire
  for success.

  As a man of letters I know few persons with a more extensive
  knowledge of literature; as an author, his introduction to the
  edition of Bojardo and Ariosto, containing a most masterly view of
  Italian poetry, is, I believe, his chief claim. But I have read
  other scattered works, perhaps less generally known, which I hold
  in high estimation. As to his public services, his long and most
  useful connection with the British Museum, cannot be more justly
  or fully appreciated than by yourself, and I am sure that we
  should entirely agree on this subject; above all, the great
  national gift of the Reading-Room, the envy and admiration of
  Europe, is, as you well know, almost his entire creation, from the
  original design to the most minute detail, from the dome to the
  inkstands and book-shelves.

  I most heartily, my dear Murchison, wish you success, and remain
  ever most truly yours,

                                                      H. H. MILMAN.”

The answer to Sir Roderick’s letter was this:—

                                   “31, Bloomsbury Square,
                                                   February 6, 1866.

  “My dear Murchison,

          Many thanks for the trouble you have taken in my behalf.
  The result is what I expected, and I am not in the least affected
  by it. I am only sorry for the pain that I know it must have given
  you.

  I am proud of having received on this occasion additional proofs
  of regard and friendship from you, from the Dean of St. Paul’s,
  and from Mr. Grote. This outweighs the unpopularity to which your
  colleague in the Committee says I am obnoxious on the part of some
  unknown members of the Athenæum, who certainly do not know me as
  well as you and the other Trustees of the British Museum do.

                                             Believe me, &c.,
                                                        A. PANIZZI.”

In the summer of 1861, Sir G. Cornewall Lewis, then Home Secretary,
sought to confer another honour on Panizzi in offering him
knighthood, which, however, he declined in these terms (July 23rd,
1861):—

“I can hardly find words to acknowledge as I ought your unexpected
communication of to-day. Her Majesty’s approbation of my humble
services at the Museum is the highest reward I ever desired to
receive for them. I can only regret my inability adequately to
express my dutiful gratitude for Her Majesty’s condescension.

“Permit me, however, to represent most respectfully that, occupying
as I do, through Her Majesty’s goodness, the honourable position I
now fill, I feel great unwillingness to be the object of a further
mark of Royal favour which may attract too much public attention to
one like myself, a foreigner by birth, who will be considered by
many to have already received too high a reward for his exertions.

“If, therefore, I may be allowed to give utterance to my feelings on
the subject, I humbly but earnestly beg to be excused from having an
honour bestowed on me, the value of which I fully appreciate and
unfeignedly regard as far beyond my deserts. Apart from all other
considerations, I feel an instinctive shrinking from all
distinctions of this nature.

“With the utmost thankfulness to you for having advised Her Majesty
to acknowledge in so gracious a manner the public services which you
are pleased to state I have rendered at the Museum, I remain, &c.”

Still the Government cherished the idea of conferring on him some
title of honour; for, on the 27th of June, 1866, Lord Russell
informed him that Her Majesty had offered a _C.B., as a recognition,
though slight, of his services to one of our great public
Institutions_. With many thanks Panizzi reminded his Lordship of
what had taken place several years before, and again declined the
proferred distinction. However, in 1869, the Queen conferred on him
the distinction of K.C.B. In addition to this he was, in the month
of August of the same year, unanimously elected member of Parliament
for the place of his birth. This onerous position he, however, found
it out of his power to accept.

Here we will pause for a few minutes, as we have now arrived at the
beginning, as it were, of the end of this remarkable career. As
strength failed, and Panizzi no longer possessed his pristine powers
of body, his life became more retired; indeed, from the year 1870 up
to the time of his death it may be said that he remained in strict
privacy. It is true that his friends, his intimates, continued as of
old to visit him, nor did they omit to do so to the last; but his
facility for correspondence had failed. The old pain in his hand had
increased, until it was only with extreme difficulty that he could
use his pen; and, for the last few years, he could do no more than
append an almost illegible signature to what was written for him.

During this time his only occupation in the daytime was reading;
Dante, Virgil, and Scott’s novels were his chief favourites. In the
evening he was glad to see around his table those who still clung to
him. Such as had been most in his confidence at the Museum were
always welcome, and other old friends occasionally joined them. Then
there was the whist party, with a very moderate stake to encourage
attention to the game, and the company dispersed with pleasant
recollections.

Amongst those who did not forget Panizzi in his latter days was the
late Emperor of the French; he paid him several visits, as did other
foreign Princes when in London.

Not the least distinguished of the number was King Humbert, then
Prince of Savoy, and lastly, his old and constant friend, Mr.
Gladstone, who, when in town, never failed to pay his afternoon
visit, frequently stopping to dinner, and cheering him with his
intellectual conversation.

Nor were his declining days uncheered by sympathisers and comforters
of the gentler sex, whose consciences still bear the impress of
their good deeds. One only will we mention here—Lady Holland, whose
innate gentleness and kindness of heart prompted her to anticipate
and administer in many ways to wants and wishes that only a long and
intimate acquaintance could have enabled her to understand. Having
watched him throughout his arduous journey in life, who could have
been better fitted to solace him, and how could she fail to be
greatly attached to one whose character she had studied and knew so
well?

On the Friday previous to Panizzi’s death, Mr. Gladstone called for
the last time. A sudden change for the worse was too marked to
escape observation, and from that evening it was certain that the
weary traveller was nearing his rest. He lay in a state of perfect
composure, and in the afternoon of the next Tuesday, the 8th of
April, 1879, his spirit passed from the scene of his long unceasing
labours. His body remains for the present under a marble tomb in St.
Mary’s Catholic Cemetery at Kensal Green, where it was deposited on
Saturday, the 12th of April, 1879, in the presence of many friends
and admirers besides the recognized mourners.

So died Sir Anthony Panizzi, mourned for by all who knew him, and by
men of genius especially; no one, in discussing his merits or
demerits, can ascribe to him a spark of selfishness. The best part
of his life had been devoted to one great object; that object he had
attained and enjoyed. He had been rewarded by the appreciation of
thinking men, and by the comforts that should accompany old age,
_love, honour, and troops of friends_.

His death was the loss of a staunch friend to the biographer, who
etched the portrait prefixed to this life, and on presenting Mr.
Gladstone with the identical proof which he had before given to
Panizzi, received from the eminent Statesman this gratifying note:—

                                 “73, Harley-street, May 10th, 1879.

  “I thank you very sincerely for favouring me with a copy of your
  etching of Sir A. Panizzi. It carries us back considerably, I
  think, in our recollections of his general appearance from the sad
  wreck we lately saw, but it is a most interesting record of one
  whose image none of his friends who truly appreciated his fine
  manful character would be content to part with.”

In conclusion the author cannot more faithfully indicate the scene
which terminated the labours, the hopes, the fears, and the
aspirations of his revered friend than by quoting these memorable
lines in the language he loved so well and so keenly appreciated:—

          “Non come fiamma che per forza è spenta,
          Ma che per se medesma si consume,
          Se n’andò in pace l’anima contenta:
          A guisa d’un soave e chiaro lume,
          Cui nutrimento a poco a poco manca,
          Tenendo al fin il suo usato costume.—_Petrarch._

[Illustration]



                               APPENDIX.

[Illustration]

It is thought that the following document, written in Count Cavour’s
own hand, may interest the reader. It is well known that the Italian
Statesman was in the habit of supplying Panizzi from time to time
with information, for the purpose of publication in the English
newspapers.

                                                             (1852?)

  “Peu de pays se sont trouvés placés dans une situation financière
  plus difficile que ne l’a été la Sardaigne après la désastreuse
  campagne du printemps 1849. Avec un trésor vide, le Gouvernement
  avait à songer à faire face aux frais de l’occupation étrangère
  qui dura plusieurs mois, à liquider les frais de deux guerres
  malheureuses, à fournir des secours aux nombreux infortunés qui
  venaient chercher en Piémont un refuge contre les atteintes de la
  réaction, partout ailleurs triomphante en Italie.

  Plus tard il eut à pourvoir au payement de l’énorme indemnité de
  guerre stipulée en faveur de l’Autriche par la paix de Milan, et
  il dut songer à poursuivre les grands travaux publics entrepris
  par Charles-Albert qu’on n’eût pu interrompre sans éprouver
  d’immenses dommages.

  Quand ou songe que toutes ces difficultés étaient aggravées encore
  par l’existence d’un papier ayant cours forcé, on sera forcé de
  convenir que M. d’Azeglio et ses collègues, en acceptant le
  pouvoir le lendemain de la bataille de Novara, firent preuve d’un
  grand courage et d’un dévouement sans bornes à leur Roi et à leur
  pays.

  Le nouveau Ministre des Finances, M. Nigra, pourvit aux premiers
  besoins par un emprunt volontaire; par la vente de quelques
  rentes, anciennes propriétés des finances, et l’émission de bons
  du trésor, qui, sans avoir cours forcé, furent acceptés sans
  murmures par les employés du Gouvernement et les fournisseurs de
  l’armée.

  Quelques mois plus tard, le calme et la confiance étant rétablis,
  toute crainte de réaction ayant disparu, grâce à la loyauté du
  jeune Roi, le Ministre jugea le moment venu pour contracter un
  emprunt à l’étranger.

  Il parvint à le faire, à des conditions, qui eu égard aux
  circonstances financières et économiques de l’Europe, peuvent être
  considérées comme avantageuses.

  Ce premier emprunt, négocié en Octobre, 1849, avec Mess. de
  Rothschild, fut suivi de deux emprunts contractés également avec
  cette maison l’année suivante. Avec les ressources qu’ils
  procurèrent au trésor, il fut possible de solder avec exactitude
  l’indemnité de guerre due à l’Autriche; de liquider les dépenses
  arriérées des deux campagnes de 1848 et 1849, et enfin de pousser
  avec vigueur les travaux des deux grandes lignes de chemin de fer
  qui coupent le pays en forme de croix; celle de Turin à Gênes, et
  de Gênes au Lac Majeur.

  Mais ce n’était pas tout que de pourvoir aux besoins
  extraordinaires par des ressources extraordinaires, comme les
  emprunts et les bons du trésor; le Gouvernement devait songer à
  augmenter d’une manière permanente les recettes du trésor, afin de
  faire face aux charges que les nouveaux emprunts imposeraient
  dorénavant a l’Etat. Pour cela il fallait se résoudre à établir de
  nouveaux impôts.

  Le Ministère ne recula pas devant cette tâche ingrate; rendue
  extrêmement difficile par la nécessité d’obtenir le concours franc
  et décidé d’une Chambre des Députés jeune et sans expérience; qui
  devait nécessairement éprouver la plus vive répugnance à débuter
  dans ses travaux parlementaires, en imposant de nouvelles charges
  à ses commettants.

  Dans la session de 1850, le Ministre des Finances obtint une
  augmentation sur les droits d’enrégistrement, et une extension des
  droits de timbre. La session suivante, le Parlement vota une
  nouvelle taxe sur les maisons; une taxe sur le commerce et
  l’industrie; un impôt sur les revenus possédés par des corps
  moraux; enfin une augmentation considérable dans les droits de
  succession tant en ligne directe que collatérale. Enfin dans la
  session actuelle, le successeur de M. Nigra, le Comte de Cavour, a
  proposé un nouvel impôt personnel et mobilier; l’augmentation d’un
  quart de l’impôt foncier; l’extension à toutes les provinces de
  l’Etat des droits de consommation sur le vin, et enfin plusieurs
  modifications aux lois sur l’enrégistrement et le timbre,
  destinées à rendre plus productives ces deux branches importantes
  du revenu de l’Etat.

  Les lois d’impôt votées en 1850 et 1851 ont déjà augmenté de 10
  millions les ressources de l’Etat: celles que le Parlement discute
  dans ce moment doivent produire une somme de 10 autres millions
  encore.

  Le budget des recettes de 1847 s’élevait à la somme de 87,000,000.
  Celui de l’année courante, calculé à 102,000,000 à raison de
  l’augmentation de la consommation du tabac sur 1847, et du nouveau
  produit pour le chemin de fer de Turin à Arquata, atteindra en
  définitive le chiffre de 104,000,000 à cause du majeur produit des
  impôts indirectes. Celui de l’année prochaine s’élèvera
  probablement à 114,000. Et celui de 1854, époque à laquelle le
  grand réseau de chemins de fer entrepris par le Gouvernement sera
  achevé, il atteindra certainement le chiffre de 117,000,000.

  Malgré ces augmentations successives de recettes, on ne peut pas
  dire que le budget de 1854 présentera un parfait équilibre; car,
  sans se faire illusion, on ne saurait calculer les dépenses de
  cette année à moins de 120,000,000. Bien entendu que dans cette
  somme les dépenses des grands travaux publics ne sont pas
  comprises. Mais par contre dans le 120,000,000 se trouvent
  comprises les dépenses pour une armée de terre de 40 et plus mille
  hommes, et pour une augmentation de celle de mer, ainsi que pour
  autres dépenses improductives, qui ne pesaient pas en 1847.
  Toutefois lorsque le déficit apparent sera réduit à 3 ou 4
  millions, on pourra dire qu’en réalité il n’existe pas. En effet
  la somme portée au budget de l’année courante pour fond
  d’amortissement s’élève à 7 millions; en 1854 elle sera plus
  considérable encore, et il s’en suit que si en 1854 le déficit ne
  dépasse pas 6 millions, il sera inférieur à la somme consacrée à
  l’extinction de nos anciennes dettes.

  Dans cet état de choses, il suffirait pour présenter un budget en
  parfait équilibre, d’adopter le système que l’Angleterre pratique
  depuis plus de trente ans, en ne consacrant à l’amortissement que
  le surplus constaté des recettes sur les dépenses.

  Pour arriver à ce résultat de grands sacrifices étaient et seront
  encore nécessaires. Il a fallu se résigner à augmenter les charges
  qui pesaient sur les contribuables avant les derniers événements
  de plus du 30%. Les impôts en 1847 étaient de entre 78 et 80
  millions; ils seraient portés entre 108 et 110 millions. Les
  nouveaux impôts ont été votés et sont discutés par le Parlement
  avec un admirable patriotisme. Le pays les supporte avec une rare
  résignation; cela est dû à ce que le Piémont payait fort peu
  d’impôts en égard aux autres nations d’Europe, et que même avec
  tous les impôts susénoncés il payera toujours moins qu’en France,
  ayant égard à la population et à la richesse territoriale.

  Cependant devant faire cette augmentation d’impôts aussi
  rapidement en peu d’années, il était à craindre qu’ils ne
  tarissent les sources de la richesse publique et qu’ils
  apportassent une crise, si l’on laissait subsister l’ancien
  système économique, fondé sur les principes de l’école
  protectioniste. C’est ce que le Ministère Sarde a senti. Aussi
  s’est-il décidé à mener de front et les lois de finance et les
  lois de réforme économique. Dès l’année 1840 il proclame
  résolument son intention d’appliquer le système du libre échange,
  en modifiant successivement toutes les lois qui avaient été faites
  dans le seul but de protéger quelques industries privilégiées.

  Le Ministère débuta par l’abolition des droits différentiels de
  navigation. L’honneur de cette première mais décisive mesure
  appartient à un homme qui par le sublime courage déployé à son lit
  de mort a prouvé comment on pouvait allier, au sein du
  Catholicisme, les sentiments religieux les plus vrai et les plus
  purs, avec une indépendance complète de la Cour de Rome; au noble
  et généreux Sainte Rose,[L] dont le Piémont, après deux ans,
  pleure encore la perte.

  Dans la même session le Ministre Azeglio faisait sanctionner la
  réforme du tarif postal, au moyen de laquelle le système de la
  taxe unique a été substitué en Piémont, comme il l’avait été en
  Angleterre, aux droits progressifs en raison de la distance....

  Aucune des industries qu’on disait devoir être frappées de mort
  par la concurrence étrangère n’a succombé. Quelques unes ont
  éprouvé un peu de gêne, des difficultés plus ou moins grandes dans
  leurs opérations. D’autres au contraire n’ont jamais été dans un
  état plus prospère que depuis qu’elles ont cessé d’être énormément
  protégées.

  Nous citerons surtout les filatures et les manufactures de coton.
  Les fileurs, qui un moment s’étaient crûs ruinés, ayant repris
  courage améliorèrent leurs modes de fabrication, perfectionnèrent
  leurs machines, et par là ils réussirent non seulement à soutenir
  sur nos propres marchés la concurrence anglaise, mais encore à la
  faire aux produits étrangers sur les marchés des pays voisins et
  notamment ceux des Duchés de Parme et de Modène.

  L’état des importations des cotons en laine prouve que cette
  assertion est loin d’être exagérée:—

 En effet dans le dernier semestre de l’année 1851   nous avons    66,000
   importé, quintaux métriques de coton
 Nous en avions importés dans les six mois   correspondants de     17,000
   1850
                                                                     —-—-
                      Augmentation                        Q. m     49,000
                                                                   ======
 Dans le premier trimestre de cette année l’importation  Q. m.     26,000
     a été de
 Elle avait été en 1851                                             9,000
                                                                     —-—-
                      Augmentation                       Q. m.     17,000

  Ces chiffres nous paraissent d’une éloquence irrésistible. Ces
  résultats d’ailleurs n’ont rien d’étonnant, si l’on réfléchit que
  nos industriels tirant la matière première directement de
  l’Amérique, elle ne leur revient pas plus chère qu’aux Anglais,
  grâce aux bas prix auxquels naviguent les marins Sardes; que la
  main d’œuvre est meilleur marché qu’à Manchester, et enfin que
  la force motrice qu’ils employent leur est fournie gratuitement
  par la nature. Avec ces éléments de prospérité, il n’est pas
  douteux que l’industrie du coton est appelée à prendre en
  Sardaigne un immense développement, et à être une des sources
  principales de la richesse du pays.

  L’industrie des laines a été plus ébranlée que celle du coton.
  Peut-être parce qu’ayant été plus protégée, elle était
  relativement à celle-ci dans un état plus arriéré. Cependant elle
  ne présente aucun signe de décadence: au contraire, à en juger par
  le nombre et la perfection des machines que depuis quelques mois
  les principaux fabricants tirent de l’étranger, il est à croire
  que bientôt elle sera en mesure de lutter à l’intérieur et à
  l’extérieur avec les tissus de la France et de la Belgique.

  L’industrie des fers n’a pas ralenti sa production; ayant amélioré
  ses produits, elle n’a pas dû consentir à une grande baisse de
  prix. Nous ne pouvons pas nous dissimuler toutefois qu’étant
  forcée à employer pour la production du fer le charbon de bois,
  cette industrie n’est pas susceptible de grands développements;
  mais qu’au contraire elle est condamnée à se restreindre à la
  production des fers de qualités supérieures à laquelle les
  minerais des Alpes sont singulièrement aptes.

  Quant aux industries secondaires plus ou moins atteintes par la
  réforme, elles n’ont pas souffert notablement, et aucune d’elle
  n’a succombé jusqu’ici dans la lutte.

  Les résultats financiers du nouveau système sont également
  satisfaisants. II suffit pour s’en convaincre de comparer le
  produit des douanes avant et après l’application du nouveau
  tarrif:—

 Les douanes avaient donné dans les derniers six      Fr.     9,965,000
   mois de 1850 un produit de
 Dans les six mois correspondants de 1851                     9,485,000
                                                                 —-—-—-
                     Diminution                       Fr.       480,000
 Pendant les quatre premiers mois de cette année      Fr.     6,355,000
   les douanes ont produit
 Pendant les quatre mois correspondants de l’année            5,450,000
    dernière
                                                                 —-—-—-
                    Augmentation                      Fr.       905,000

  Si on objectait que les produits de l’année dernière avaient été
  affectés par la perturbation causée par la discussion des traités
  et de la réforme douanière; la comparaison de 1852 avec les années
  1850 et celles antécédentes, confirmerait nos assertions: en effet
  le produit des quatre premiers mois de 1852 dans les provinces
  continentales a donné Fr. 6,355,280

 Des quatre premiers de 1850 a donné                           6,274,687
           ”        1849    ”                                  5,733,361
           ”        1848    ”                                  4,603,929
           ”        1847    ”                                  5,932,835
 Augmentation de 1852 comparé à 1850                       Fr.    80,593
           ”        ”        1849                                621,919
           ”        ”        1848                              1,751,351
           ”        ”        1847                                422,445

  Ces chiffres prouvent à l’évidence que la réforme radicale opérée
  dans le tarif, loin de causer un préjudice au trésor, lui a été
  singulièrement avantageuse; qu’en définitive elle a augmenté les
  recettes de l’Etat, tout en procurant un énorme soulagement aux
  contribuables.

  Ce que les contribuables ont gagné ne peut pas être évalué à moins
  de 7 ou 8 millions par an. En effet si les anciens tarifs étaient
  encore en vigueur, les importations effectuées dans les derniers
  12 mois, auraient dû supporter une surtaxe équivalente à la somme
  susindiquée.

  Si le trésor malgré ce bénéfice réalisé par les contribuables n’a
  pas perdu, c’est que la quantité des objets soumis aux droits a
  énormément augmenté.

  Il ne faut pas croire toutefois que la consommation se soit accrue
  dans la proportion des chiffres que nous venons de citer.
  L’augmentation des recettes de la douane est due en grande partie
  à la diminution de la contrebande qui a presque entièrement cessé,
  tandis que par le passé elle s’opérait sur une immense échelle.

  L’étendue des frontières des Etats Sardes par rapport à la surface
  de son territoire; la facilité qu’offre au commerce illicite la
  plupart des lignes qui les séparent des pays étrangers, faisaient
  que sous l’appâts de droits très élevés, la contrebande avait pris
  un énorme développement. Le Ministre des Finances dans la
  discussion des traités avait évalué l’importance des marchandises
  importées en fraude au tiers des importations totales;
  l’expérience est venue confirmer cette assertion qui ne reposait
  que sur des données approximatives.

  La cessation presque complète de la contrebande ne sera
  certainement pas estimée par tous les hommes qui pensent que les
  intérêts moraux des populations ne sent pas moins sacrés que leurs
  intérêts matériels, comme un des moindres bienfaits de la grande
  réforme que le Piémont a accomplie à l’instar de la Grande
  Bretagne.

  Encouragé par le succès qui avait couronné ses premières mesures,
  le Gouvernement Sarde s’est décidé à étendre aux produits du sol
  les principes qu’il avait appliqués aux produits de l’industrie,
  et à réduire les droits sur les denrées alimentaires étrangères.

  Le pays produisant beaucoup de vins, les producteurs parvinrent
  sous le dernier régime à faire frapper les liquides étrangers de
  droits énormes. Avant 1847 les vins étaient soumis:

  S’ils étaient d’une valeur de 20 fr. et au dessous, au droit de 16
  par hect.;

  S’ils étaient de valeur supérieure, au droit de 10 par hect., plus
  le 30% sur la valeur;

  et les eaux-de-vie de 22 degrés et au dessous, au droit de 22 par
  hect.;

  de degré supérieur, au droit de 40 par hect.

  En 1850 un traité stipulé avec la France réduisit les droits

 à 14 pour les vins           au dessus de 20 fr. par hect.;
 à 10         ”               au dessous de cette valeur.

  et pour les eaux-de-vie

 à 18 par hect.,              celles de 22 degrés et au dessous;
 à 30        ”                celles de degré supérieur.

  Malgré ces réductions, les droits étaient encore hautement
  protecteurs, surtout par rapport aux vins communs. En effet les
  vins du Languedoc ne pouvant être évalués à plus de 10 francs
  l’hectolitre, il s’en suit qu’ils avaient à payer, pour pénétrer
  en Piémont, un droit du cent pour cent sur la valeur.

  La réduction du droit sur les vins présentait toutefois de
  sérieuses difficultés. La plupart des provinces du Continent et de
  la Sardaigne étant couvertes de vignobles, il était à craindre
  qu’une réforme un peu hardie ne soulevat parmi les producteurs et
  par contre-coup dans le Parlement, une opposition difficile à
  vaincre.

  Pour arriver plus facilement à son but, le Ministère se décida à
  faire de la réduction des droits sur les vins et les eaux-de-vie
  l’objet de négociations avec la France, afin d’en obtenir en
  retour une diminution des droits qui pèsent sur deux de nos
  principaux articles d’exportation—les huiles et les bestiaux. Dans
  ce but un nouveau traité fut signé avec la France, qui parmi les
  concessions réciproques qu’il stipulait, réduisait les divers
  droits sur les vins au droit uniforme de 3,30 par hectolitre; et
  ceux sur les eaux-de-vie

                 à 5, 50 de 22 degrés et au dessous,
                 à 10 — de degré supérieur.

  Lorsque le traité fut connu, une vive émotion se manifesta parmi
  les propriétaires de vignobles. Toutefois cette émotion n’eut pas
  de suite dans les provinces du Piémont; elle ne prit pas de
  couleur politique et elle ne tarda pas à se calmer. Le parti
  libéral avait trop ouvertement prôné les théories du libre
  échange, pour pouvoir embrasser la cause des producteurs de vins:
  et quant au parti rétrograde, il est trop faible pour exercer une
  influence sérieuse sur le public ou sur les masses.

  Il n’en fut pas de même en Savoie. Quoique prise dans son
  ensemble, cette partie des Etats Sardes ne produise pas le vin qui
  est nécessaire à sa consommation, la province de Chambéry possède
  une grande quantité de vignobles, et les propriétaires de vignes y
  exercent une influence considérable. Il était naturel par
  conséquent qu’il ne fissent créer dans la capitale de la Savoie
  une agitation très-vive. Le parti rétrograde, qui est beaucoup
  plus nombreux et puissant dans cette ville que partout ailleurs,
  sut en profiter avec une extrême habilité il parvint à donner, à
  une question purement locale, le caractère d’une question
  nationale pour la Savoie.

  La Savoie compte bien plusieurs députés libéraux; mais
  malheureusement ils étaient en congé lorsque le traité fut
  présenté à la Chambre; de sorte qu’au premier abord la Députation
  Savoisienne parut unanime pour repousser le traité.

  Plus tard, il est vrai, cet état fâcheux se modifia. Plusieurs
  Députés s’empressèrent de quitter leurs montagnes pour venir
  protester contre les doctrines illibérales de leurs collègues.
  Néanmoins ils ne parvinrent pas à détruire l’impression produite
  par ceux-ci, et il était facile à reconnaître que le principal
  obstacle que rencontrerait le traité dans les Chambres, viendrait
  de l’opinion que la Savoie lui était en grande majorité hostile.

  C’est pourquoi, le Ministre des Finances, dans le discours
  prononcé a cette occasion, s’est attaché à traiter la question
  spécialement du point de vue savoyard.

  Malgré cette tendance spéciale, ce discours contient une
  exposition exacte et consciencieuse des principes économiques et
  politiques qui guident depuis trois ans le Cabinet dont M.
  d’Azeglio est le chef. C’est pourquoi nous avons pensé qu’il
  pouvait présenter quelque intérêt pour le public anglais, que nous
  savons animé d’une si vive sympathie pour une nation généreuse
  qui, au milieu des plus graves difficultés et des obstacles de
  tous genres, a su demeurer fidèle à la cause de l’ordre et de la
  liberté; tout en accomplissant une réforme économique non moins
  étendue, non moins considérable, toute proportion d’ailleurs
  gardée, que celle qu’une suite d’hommes d’Etat célèbres a opéré en
  Angleterre avec un si éclatant succès.

The following are the originals of which translations have been
given at pages 156 and 193 of Volume II.

                                          “27 Agosto, 1856,
                                   14, Cambridge Terrace, Hyde Park.

  “Pregiatissimo Signor Mio,

          Ho esaminato il Catalogo della Biblioteca per ciò che
  risguarda l’arte e la scienza militare: è assai sprovvista delle
  opere più istruttive, e che sono uscite a luce durante e dopo le
  guerre di Napoleone. Così è pure dell’ _United Service
  Institution_, a cui sono stato ammesso per consultare le opere che
  mi abbisognano pel componimento del lavoro militare che ho tra
  mano. In seguito di ciò ne ho fatte venire parecchie dalla Francia
  a mie spese; ma in appresso avrei d’uopo di consultare l’opera, di
  cui le accludo il titolo, e _La grande Tactique du Marquis de
  Ternay, Colonel d’Etat Major_. Quelle opere, in ispecie quella di
  Martray, non mi è dato procurarle perchè troppo dispendiose. Se
  ella credesse di proporre alla Biblioteca di farle venire, sarebbe
  per me una grande utilità. L’opera di Ternay, edizione di Parigi,
  non deve costare più di franchi 25; quella di Bruxelles assai
  meno.

  L’opera che sto compiendo sarà in Inglese, e conterrà tutto che
  deve sapersi in campagna dal sottotenente delle tre armi onde si
  compone un esercito, fino allo Stato Maggior Generale
  inclusivamente. E un peso assai grave, molto più che deve essere
  ristretto in un volume tascabile, e riunire _concisione_,
  _chiarezza_, e utto lo _scibile militare_. Io mi riprometto
  tuttavia di, riuscire sia pei buoni studi che feci fino da giovane
  come per l’assiduità, e diligenza che vi metterò. E tuttavia un
  lavoro che non posso recare a termine prima di sei o otto mesi.

  Mentre sto scrivendo, posso però disporre di alcune ore al giorno
  per altre occupazioni; ed amerei, se fosse possibile, di dare
  alcune lezioni di lingua e letteratura italiana, e di arte e
  scienza militare. Per questa seconda parte io già fui Maggiore di
  Stato Maggiore, e posso dare lezioni assai estese: per la prima
  pure sono alquanto innanzi.

  Sino ad ora io condussi una vita oltremodo agitata e di mezzo
  sempre ai pericoli: fui per conseguenza a carico della famiglia,
  che soffrì non lievi perdite a mia cagione. Ed ora mettendomi un
  po’ più tranquillo ho in animo di trar profitto delle mie
  cognizioni, mentre sto aspettando il desiderato momento in cui
  possa di nuovo battermi per la nostra indipendenza. Per far
  conoscere che sarei pronto a dar lezioni mi si consiglia di
  mettere un avviso nel _Times_. Io non vorrei far ciò. Sembrerebbe
  che volessi profittare del buon nome che ho, benchè immeritamente.
  Credo invece che, ove la S. V. volesse, potrebbe assai giovarmi
  col mezzo delle sue relazioni. Comunque sia, io me ne starò piena
  mente ai consigli di lei.

  Ella però non conosce la mia privata vita: su ciò le do ampie
  facoltà, e può indirizzarsi agli stessi miei nemici o di opinioni,
  o di partiti, o di altra specie, chè tutti ne abbiamo. Quanto alle
  lingue conosco benissimo la francese, e mi disimpegno quanto
  all’inglese per lezioni private.

  Le ho scritto la presente, perchè temeva di recarle disturbo; se
  avrà la cortesia la S. V. di darmi un cenno, potrò recarmi da lei
  quando le piacerà, onde prender su quanto le ho scritto miglior
  consiglio.

  Venendo ora alle cose politiche, io non so nulla di positivo: mi
  tengo, siccome le dissi, indipendente da ognuno: e se il Governo
  sardo stimasse di potersi valere di quel poco ch’io valgo in
  qualunque impresa per quanto audace potesse essere, io sono sempre
  pronto. Beninteso per la indipendenza della mia patria: per la
  quale fin da che conobbi non ebbi mai quiete, e sagrificai
  _tutto_. Nel dire di essere pronto a dar mano al Governo sardo non
  sono influenzato che dall’amore del mio paese, e dalla convinzione
  che oggi, se egli vuole, è il solo Governo che possa fare l’Italia
  indipendente, una e grande: ed io mi reputerò felice se in un
  fatto d’_importanza_ e di _gravi conseguenze_ per gli oppressori
  dell’Italia potrò adoperarmi con tutte le forze, e finire anche
  una vita che non fu per me fino ad ora che triste, passionata e
  melanconica. Mi perdoni questa espansione d’animo.

  Da quanto sento, pare che il mio libretto abbia avuto qualche
  incontro anche in Piemonte presso qualunque partito: certo che io
  nulla esagerai; mi studiai per anco di far conoscere che debbesi
  sagrificare qualunque principio politico alla indipendenza
  nazionale; ed io così feci fino dalla mia prima prigionía del
  1844.

  Non mi occorrendo altro significarle, la supplico di avermi per
  iscusato, e rispettosamente me le offro

  Di Vostra Signoria

                               Umilissimo e devotissimo servitore
                                                    “FELICE ORSINI.”

                                -------

                                           “Leri, 24 Ottobre (1859).

  “Carissimo Panizzi,

          La vostra lettera del 17 andante mi fu consegnata solo
  ieri, troppo tardi per potere rispondervi lo stesso giorno. Mi
  affretto a farlo questa mattina, benchè io stimi che questa
  risposta debba giungere a Londra quando la questione del Congresso
  sarà stata decisa.

  Che allo stato delle cose, a fronte degl’impegni assunti a
  Villafranca e sino ad un certo punto confermati a Zurigo
  dall’Imperatore, un Congresso europeo sia una necessità, parmi
  cosa evidente. Ove il Congresso non si riunisse, e la Francia
  impedisse l’Italia centrale dall’uscire del provvisorio col
  contrastare le decretate fusioni, quei paesi sarebbero esposti a
  gravi pericoli. Nelle Romagne gli uomini superlativi, e colà ve ne
  son molti, potrebbero spingere Garibaldi a tentare un’impresa
  nelle Marche e fors’anche negli Abruzzi; a Modena l’occupazione
  per parte dell’Austria dell’Oltrepò Mantovano, conseguenza
  inevitabile del trattato, potrebbe far nascere collisioni dannose;
  la Toscana forse potrebbe sopportare più a lungo una condizione
  incerta, ma anche colà le mène dei retrivi secondate dai preti
  produrrebbero forse gravi perturbazioni. Il Congresso adunque è
  richiesto dagli stessi interessi dell’Italia. Ciò ammesso,
  l’Inghilterra deve parteciparvi e per decoro suo e pel bene
  nostro. L’Austria non contrasterà il suo intervento, e ammetterà
  le sue riserve, quando si stabilisca che nel medesimo non abbia a
  farsi parola delle provincie sulle quali conserva il suo impero. E
  duro l’avere a rinunziare ad alzare la voce a favore dell’infelice
  Venezia; eppure è forza il far tacere le più vive simpatie per non
  sacrificare il possibile al desiderabile.

  L’Austria, rassicurata sul Veneto, dovrà acconsentire alia massima
  inglese, che si abbia a rispettare i voti degl’Italiani. Per dare
  a questa forma più diplomatica, basterebbe il dire che le Potenze
  s’impegnano a non imporre colle armi una forma qualunque di
  governo ai popoli dell’Italia centrale. Questo è il principio di
  non intervento già, proclamato dall’Imperatore nei suoi scritti e
  nei suoi discorsi. Propugnato dalla Francia e dall’Inghilterra e
  fors’anche dalla Russia, sarà subíto dall’Austria ed accettato
  dalla Prussia.

  Passando quindi alla costituzione del Congresso, non esito a
  pronunziarmi per l’esclusione delle Potenze minori. Se si
  trattasse solo dei Ducati e della Toscana, il loro intervento
  sarebbe giovevole; ma siccome la questione la più ardua e dirò
  pure la più importante è quella delle Romagne, temerei che il Papa
  avesse a trovare nella Spagna e nel Portogallo ardenti difensori.

  Il Congresso riunito, la condotta dell’Inghilterra non può essere
  dubbia. Proporrebbe dapprima che i voti dei popoli legalmente
  espressi ricevessero la sanzione dell’Europa. Questa proposta
  essendo rigettata, proporrebbe che i popoli venissero interrogati
  pel mezzo del suffragio universale, da constatarsi dai
  rappresentanti del Congresso. Questa proposta troverebbe appoggio
  nella Francia, e sarebbe probabilmente accettata.

  Quando nol fosse, l’Inghilterra dovrebbe entrare in una fase
  negativa e contrastare le proposte dell’Austria ed anche quelle
  della Francia. Il Duca di Modena essendo da tutti, non esclusi i
  suoi congiunti, abbandonato, non si avrà a combattere che la
  ristaurazione della Casa di Lorena in Toscana, l’installazione
  della Duchessa di Parma a Modena, ed il ristabilimento del dominio
  papale nelle Romagne.

  Queste determinazioni si possono combattere non solo in virtù dei
  diritti dei popoli, ma altresì e più efficacemente ancora
  nell’interesse del principio monarchico, e delle idee d’ordine e
  di conservazione. Se si vuole che la rivoluzione ora schiacciata
  non ritorni minacciosa e potente, non bisogna porla a fronte di
  Governi deboli, senza radici, senza forze nè fisiche nè morali; se
  si vuole che i troni sieno rispettati, conviene non farvi sedere
  Principi disprezzati e disprezzabili, il di cui solo nome è in
  contrasto irritante col sentimento ora dominante in Italia, il
  sentimento nazionale. Ritorni il Granduca o suo figlio a Firenze;
  ed in men di un mese la Toscana sarà il quartier generale di
  Mazzini e della rivoluzione militante. Forse si dirà che la
  Duchessa di Parma è donna forte e non disprezzata. Quando ciò
  fosse vero, non si potrebbero cancellare le memorie del padre
  cotanto odiose, ed ispirare fiducia nel figlio. D’altronde quel
  sistema dei compensi che se vorrebbe applicare a favore di questo
  ramo borbonico, è in urto diretto coi sentimenti e le idee che
  dominano ora in Europa. I Modanesi sarebbero feriti nella loro
  dignità, quando si vedessero assegnare in guisa di _douaire_ alla
  vedova dello scellerato Duchino di Parma. Meglio per loro la
  ristaurazione dell’antico sovrano. In quel caso sarebbero vittima
  di un falso principio; ma non sarebbero trattati come un branco di
  pecore, di cui si dispone per fare accetare da una delle parti
  contraenti condizioni da lei riputate onerose.

  Il Trattato di Vienna ha molte parti odiose; pure è men odiabile
  di quel di Campoformio.

  Rispetto alle Romagne sarà facile all’Inghilterra il far
  respingere l’idea delle riforme papali. Accettandola, si fa peggio
  che una cosa odiosa, si fa una cosa ridicola. Non e necessario di
  essere un gran statista nè gran teologo per rimanere convinti che
  il Papa non solo non vuole, ma non può acconsentire a
  serieriforme. Finchè sarà Papa e Re, dovrà in coscienza impiegare
  le forze del Re per fare rispettare i decreti del Pontefice. La
  separazione dei due poteri non è possibile. Il Papa non può
  acconsentire nè alla libertà dell’insegnamento, nè alla libertà
  dei culti, nè alla libertà della stampa. Non può tollerare le
  libertà municipali, salvochè per queste s’intenda la facoltà di
  regolare a beneplacito dei Municipi le strade consortili ed i
  lastricati delle strade. Il Papa, come Papa, subirà, più
  facilmente la perdita di una provincia, che non la promulgazione
  nei suoi Stati del Codice civile napoleonico. La ristaurazione
  papale deve impedirsi ad ogni costo; è questione non solo
  italiana, ma d’interesse europeo. Importa a noi, ma importa pure
  all’Inghilterra, alla Prussia, alla Russia stessa, a tutti i paesi
  ove si vuole lo sviluppo della civiltà, il quale richiede come
  condizione essenziale la separazione assoluta dei due poteri. Se
  il Papa conseguisse una vittoria in Italia, la tracotanza e
  l’orgoglio dei Cullen e dei McHale crescerebbe a dismisura, e
  l’Europa sarebbe minacciata in non lontano avvenire dal pericolo
  di lotte religiose analoghe a quelle dei secoli scorsi. Si ceda su
  tutto anzichè sacrificare le Romagne. La lor causa, lo ripeto, è
  la causa della civiltà.

  Quando l’Inghilterra riesca ad allontanare le proposte
  austro-franche, torni a mettere in campo le primitive sue, ed ove
  non prevalgano, proponga l’unione immediata di Parma e Carrara al
  Piemonte e lo stabilimento di un Governo provvisorio, ma
  fortemente costituito, che riunisca sotto di sè Firenze, Modena e
  Bologna.

  Ecco il mio parere, ve lo do per quel che vale. Lontano dagli
  affari, con poche relazioni coi Ministri, ignoro forse molte cose
  che modificare potrebbero la mia opinione. Tuttavia giudicando la
  questione dell’Italia centrale dai dati che sono in certo modo
  acquistati alla storia, porto ferma opinione che, ove
  l’Inghilterra seguisse la via de me tracciata, riuscirebbe
  nell’intento di assicurare le sorti dell’Italia centrale con utile
  nostro e gloria sua.

  Addio, carissimo amico; proseguite a perorare la nostra causa
  presso la nobile nazione inglese, ed i vostri sforzi non
  rimarranno sterili. Ripeto ora quel che dicevo in febbraio alla
  Camera ed all’Italia: Gli uomini di Stato, che hanno onorata la
  loro camera col compiere l’emancipazione dei neri, non vorranno
  condannare l’Italia ad eterno servaggio.

                                       Vostro affezionatissimo amico
                                                        “C. CAVOUR.”



                              THE END



                                 INDEX

 A’Court, Sir W. I. 56.
 Acton, Lord. II. 250.
 Aberdeen, Earl of. I. 181, 205, 211, 221,
    248, 365. II. 71.
 Addington, H. U. I. 180. II. 96.
 Agresti, F. II. 63.
 Alberici, G. I. 33, 47.
 Alberoni, Cardinal. II. 74.
 Aldus. I. 82.
 Alessandria. I. 23.
 Allen. I. 314.
 Andreoli. G. I. 35.
 Angoulême, Duke d’. I. 56.
 Antonelli, Cardinal. II. 57.
 Antonioli. I. 42.
 Anytus. I. 87.
 Apponyi, Count. I. 387. II. 34.
 Arduinus. II. 64.
 Argentine Republic. II. 146.
 Argyll, Duke of. II. 173.
 Ariosto. I. 79.
 Aristophanes. II. 215.
 Armelonghi. II. 179.
 Arnold, Dr. I. 314.
 Ars, Curé of. I. 3.
 Ascoli, Duke d’. I. 21.
 Ashburton, Lady. I. 336.
 Ashburton, Lord. I. 132, 248.
 Asher. I. 263.
 Aumale, Duke of. II. 21.
 Autharis. I. 8.
 Ayala, M. d’. II. 59.
 Azeglio, Massimo d’. II. 251, 254.
 Azeglio, Marquis d’. II. 207.

 Baber, H. H. I. 131.
 Bachon, M. II. 293.
 Balbo, Count. II. 60.
 Banks, Sir J. I. 111.
 Banks, H. I. 156.
 Banks, S. S. Mrs. I. 111.
 Barbier, de Tinan Admiral. II. 231.
 Bardetti, Father. I. 6.
 Baretti, G. I. 324.
 Baring, B. I. 151.
 Barnard, Sir F. I. 115.
 Baron, Major. I. 281.
 Barrot, O. I. 229.
 Barry, Sir C. I. 357.
 Beaconsfield, Lord. II. 24.
 Beauharnais, E. de. I. 18.
 Beauvale, Lord. I. 247.
 Bello, F. I. 79.
 Bembo, Cardinal. I. 307.
 Bennett, J. J. II. 21.
 Bentham, J. I. 143.
 Bentley, Dr. I. 113.
 Bertani, Dr. II. 145.
 Besini, G. I. 31.
 Bezzi, G. I. 43.
 Bianchi, N. II. 297.
 Bianchini, Signor. II. 144.
 Billaut, M. I. 229.
 Birch, Dr. S. II. 21.
 Birch, Dr. T. I. 111.
 Blacas, Duke de. II. 51.
 Blackstone, Sir W. I. 344.
 Blomfield, Dr. I. 131.
 Boccaccio. I. 79.
 Bodkin, Mr. I. 290.
 Bohn, Mr. I. 289.
 Bojardo. I. 79, 95.
 Bonaparte, J. I. 17.
 Bond, E. A. I. 345, 366. II. 20, 39, 278.
 Boone, T. & W. I. 295.
 Booth, J. II. 15.
 Bossi, G. I. 70.
 Botta, C. I. 74.
 Bridport Election. I. 177.
 Brissac, M. II. 293
 British Museum opened. I. 106.
 Brooks’s Club. I. 250.
 Brougham, Lord. I. 68, 72, 100, 314, 327,
    329.
 Brown, R. II. 21.
 Bruce, J. I. 261.
 Brunet, M. I. 310
 Buckingham, Duke of. I. 270
 Bullen, G. I. 161
 Buonarroti, M. A. I. 309 II. 40
 Burney, Dr. C. I. 111
 Byron, Lord. I. 57

 Cadiz. II. 168
 Cadogan, Lord. I. 365
 Calvi, J. A. I. 307
 Campagna, Signor. II. 144
 Canning, Lord. I. 179, 257
 Cannon, C. I. 310, 354 II. 299
 Capuano Castel. II. 107
 Caradosso. I. 308
 Carafa, G. II. 104
 Carbonaro. I. 13
 Cardwell, Viscount. I. 173
 Carignano, Prince of. I. 23
 Carlyle, J. A. I. 306
 Carlyle, T. I. 335
 Carmagnuolo. I. 23
 Caronzi, F. I. 33
 Carpeaux, J. B. II. 291
 Carpenter, W. H. II. 21
 Cary, H. F. I. 77, 134
 Casaubon, I. I. 110
 Castelcicala, Prince. II. 94
 Cavandoli, G. B. I. 47
 Cavendish, Lord Frederick. II. 250
 Cavour, Count. II. 192, 231
 Cawdor, Earl. I. 365
 Celano. II. 109
 Celci, Tito. _See_ _Orsini_.
 Champagne, Marquis de. I. 16
 Charlemagne. I. 80
 Charles X. I. 100
 Charles, Albert. II. 60
 Charles, Felix. I. 99
 Chartists (1848). I. 280
 Chaucer. I. 303
 Chepmell, Dr. II. 104
 Cicero. I. 307
 Cisterna, Prince della. I. 15
 Clarendon, Lord. I. 200, 205, 247
 Clarendon, Countess. I. 365
 Cleave, J. II. 268
 Clinton, Mr. II. 6
 Cocchi. I. 12
 Cochrane, J. G. I. 262
 Coke, Mr. I. 66
 Colborne, R. I. 151
 Colin, A. II. 274
 Collier, John Payne. I. 257, 260
 Colt-Hoare, Sir R. I. 111
 Concordat of 1855. II. 121
 Conti, S. I. 33, 45
 Copyright Act. I. 284
 Corney, Bolton. II. 13
 Corn Laws. I. 249
 Costa, Father. II. 105
 Costa, S. da. I. 110
 Cottenham, Lord. I. 327
 Cottonian Library. I. 103
 Cousin, V. I. 45
 Cracherode, C. M. I. 112
 Cracow. I. 232
 Craik, G. L. I. 261
 Cranmer, Archbishop. I. 110
 Cranworth, Lord. II. 7
 Cranworth, Lady. I. 366
 Craufurd, J. II. 156
 Craven, Mr. II. 31
 Cremona, I. 26
 Croker, J. W. I. 262
 Croker, Wilson, Right Hon. I. 356
 Cowtan, Robert. I. 281
 Cugini, P. I. 191
 Cureton, Dr. W. II. 9

 Dacre, Lady. I. 76
 Dallas, G. M. II. 171
 Dante. I. 77, 294 II. 242
 Dati. I. 305
 “David Stewart.” II. 169.
 Davis (of Shelton). I. 288
 Death, Sentence of. I. 46
 De Morgan, Professor. I. 262
 Denman, Lord. I. 323
 Désauget, General. II. 61
 Deutsch, E. II. 267
 Dickens, Charles. II. 173, 269
 Disraeli, B. _See_ _Beaconsfield, Lord_.
 D’Orsay, Count. I. 320
 Doubleday, J. I. 188
 Dufaure. I. 229
 Duncombe, T. S. I. 184
 Dundas, Sir D. I. 275
 Dunne, G. I. 308
 Dürer, A. II. 40
 Durham Letter. II. 114
 Du Sommerard. II. 274

 Eastlake, Lady. I. 366
 Eastlake, Sir C. I. 366
 Ebrington, Lord. I. 197
 Ecclesiastical Commission Act. I. 315
 “Ecclesiastical Titles Bill.” II. 115
 Edwards, Major A. I. 103, 112
 Edwards, E. I. 161, 168
 Egerton, Lady Charlotte. II. 174
 Egerton, Sir P. I. 151
 Elgin Marbles. I. 355
 Ellesmere, Lord. I. 257, 268 II. 8, 9, 22
 Ellice, Edward. I. 248, 250, 332 II. 197, 233
 Ellis, Sir H. I. 109, 142, 152, 366, 367
    II. 3
 Ercole I. I. 9
 Ercole II. I. 9
 Estcourt, S. I. 151
 “Ettore Fieramosca.” II. 167
 Eusebius. I. 7
 Eugénie, Empress. II. 233, 288, 290, 294
 Eversley, Lord. II. 24
 Ewart, John. I. 54, 100
 Ezzellino IV. I. 8.

 Fagan, George. II. 28, 97, 101, 133, 149
 Fagan, Louis. II. 213, 275, 301
 Fagan, Major. II. 214
 Farini, L. C. II. 188
 Farioli, G. B. I. 33
 Farnborough, Lord. I. 132, 270
 Favre, J. II. 163
 Feilding, Lord. II. 104
 Fellows, Sir C. I. 256 II. 38
 Ferdinand I. I. 21
 Ferdinand II. (death of). II. 55, 135, 183
 Ferdinand VII. I. 20
 Fergusson, J. I. 356
 Ferrucci, Cav. I. 309
 Fielder, Mr. I. 365
 Fieri, F. I. 33
 Filangieri, General. II. 82
 Finistrello Citadel. I. 22
 Fitzgerald, Mr. I. 258
 Fitzwilliam, Lord. I. 114
 Ford, K. II. 9
 Forshall, J. I. 146, 152, 160, 258
 Forster, J. I. 167 II. 23
 Fortescue, Lord. I. 275
 Fortunato. II. 82
 Foscolo, U. I. 63, 70 II. 250, 255
 Fosse, C. de la. I. 105
 Fould, A. II. 225
 “Francia il.” I. 306 II. 40
 Francis II. II. 207
 Francis IV. I. 12
 Francis V. II. 99
 Fratuzzi Abbate. I. 10, 144
 Frederick II. I. 8
 Fust. I. 308

 Galeazzo Maria, Duke. I. 9
 Galileo. I. 305
 Gallispani. I. 9
 Gambardella. I. 324
 Gargiulo, R. II. 31
 Garibaldi, General. I. 186 II. 249
 Garnett, Rev. R. I. 161
 Garnett, R. I. 162 II. 268
 Garrick, D. I. 111
 Gaskell. I. 279
 Gaurico. I. 308
 Genoa, Duke of. II. 63
 George III. I. 111, 116
 George IV. I. 100, 114, 116
 Gex. I. 43
 “Giacomino.” _See_ _Hudson, Sir J._
 Giberto of Correggio. I. 9
 Giglioli, D. I. 47
 “Giovine Italia.” II. 68
 Gizzi. II. 57
 Gladstone, Mrs. II. 171
 Gladstone, The Right Hon. W. E. I. 181, 268, 334 II.
    70, 89, 97, 141, 148, 174, 191, 224, 227, 229, 242, 250, 261,
    298, 307, 308
 Glastonbury, Lord. I. 271
 Gloucester, Duchess of. I. 365
 Gordon, Sir R. I. 189, 191
 Goulburn. I. 173, 355
 Graham, Sir J. I. 185
 Granville, Lord. II. 173, 250.
 Grasselini. II. 57
 Grassi, T. I. 74
 Gray, Dr. J. E. I. 256. II. 19
 Gray, T. I. 344
 Gregory XIV. II. 56
 Grenville, Thomas. I. 79, 95, 118, 132,
    266
 Greville, C. I. 221, 226, 231
 Grey, Lord. I. 252, 314
 Grey, C. II. 12
 Grey, Lady. I. 366
 Grey, Sir G. I. 366 II. 8, 11, 262
 Gruppi, C. I. 10.
 Guizot, M. I. 196
 Guttenberg. I. 308

 Halifax, Lord. I. 104
 Hallam, H. I. 139, 268, 355
 Hamilton, W. R. I. 264, 273, 363 II. 25
 Hampden Case. I. 322
 Hardwicke, Major-General. I. 112
 Hardy, Sir T. D. I. 327
 Hargrave, F. I. 112
 Harleian, MSS. I. 106
 Harriette, Lady. I. 248
 Harris, John. I. 296, 311
 Hawes, Sir B. I. 151
 Hawkins, Ed. I. 371 II. 38
 Hawkins, Sir J. I. 111
 Hawkins, T. I. 154
 Haywood, Mrs. II. 248, 299
 Haywood, F. I. 54, 100, 331 II. 14, 34, 100, 116,
    189
 Heber, R. I. 116
 Hernof. _See_ _Orsini_.
 Holland House. I. 314
 Holland, Lady. II. 239, 307
 Holland, Lord. I. 324, 326 II. 101
 Homer. I. 334
 Hooke, R. I. 105
 Home, T. H. I. 156
 Hosking, W. I. 368, 371
 Houghton, Lord. II. 23, 25
 Howley, Dr. I. 100
 Hudson, Sir J. II. 188, 232, 245
 Humbert, King. II. 307
 Hume, D. I. 344

 Incisa Cav. II. 189
 Inglis, Sir R. H. I. 132, 151
 Isturiz, F. X. de. I. 213

 “James, Captain.” II. 168
 Jardine, Mr. I. 188, 290
 Jarnac, M. de. I. 214
 Jeffrey, Lord. I. 314
 Jesuits. I. 215
 Jewett, Prof., C. C. I. 170.
 Johnson, S. I. 115, 344
 Jones, J. Winter. I. 161, 168, 261 II. 16, 18, 21,
    262, 238, 299
 Joubert, General. I. 75
 Joursanvault, Baron de. I. 153

 Kauffungen, C. de. I. 16
 Keightley, T. I. 90
 Kenyon, J. II. 15.
 Knight, Dr. Gowin. I. 108
 König, C. I. 256
 Kossuth. II. 223

 La Cava (Visit). II. 240
 La Greca, Marquis. II. 207
 Lacaita, Sir J. II. 97, 110, 131, 147, 205, 257, 299
 Lagden, Miss. II. 296
 Lajatico. II. 179
 Lamoricière, Monseigneur. II. 211.
 Landeburiana (Society). I. 25
 Langdale, Lady. I. 327
 Langdale, Lord. I. 327
 Lansdowne, Marquis of. I. 132, 248, 314 II. 4, 6,
    10, 173
 Lavallette, M. de. II. 293
 Lawes, H. I. 304
 Lawrence, Sir T. I. 114
 Layard, Sir A. H. II. 24.
 Lefevre, Hon. C. Shaw. _See_ _Eversley, Lord_.
 Leo I. I. 7.
 Leven, Lord. II. 205
 Lewis, Sir G. C. I. 302
 Lewis, Sir G. C. II. 40, 43, 305
 Libri, G. I. 195
 Liechtenstein, Princess Mary. II. 268
 Lieven, Madame de. I. 221
 Linati, C. I. 54
 Lisio, Captain. I. 23.
 Lloyd, W. I. 187
 London, Bishop of. I. 366
 Ludolf, Count. II. 57, 207

 Madden, Sir F. I. 145, 153, 366 II. 21
 Macaulay, Lord. I. 71, 85, 248, 355 II. 15
 Macchiavelli, N. I. 70 II. 69
 Magenis, A. C. I. 194
 Maghella. I. 16
 Maio. II. 87
 Major, R. I. 144
 Mammiani, Count. II. 60
 Manfredi. II. 179
 Manna, G. II. 207
 Manzini, C. I. 278
 Manzoni, G. Count. I. 309
 Maranesi, F. I. 33
 Marliani. II. 182
 Marochetti, Baron. I. 366, 385
 Martin, Miss. I. 60, 95
 Masson, Professor. I. 302
 Maure, Dr. II. 296
 Mauro, Domenico. II. 60
 Mausolus. II. 47
 Maximilian, Archduke. II. 37
 Mazza, O. II. 133
 Mazzini, G. I. 63, 67, 99, 182
 Mazzini, G. II. 156, 256
 Melbourne, Lord. I. 245, 320
 Melville, Lady Anne. II. 206
 Menabrea, General. II. 255, 299
 Mérimée, J. F. L. II. 278
 Mérimée, Prosper. I. 196 II. 218, 273
 Metternich, Prince. I. 190 II. 60
 Millard, J. I. 151
 Milman, Dean. I. 366 II. 270, 304
 Milton. I. 85, 302
 Minto, Lord. II. 60
 Minzi, Dr. I. 13, 40, 42, 47 II. 35, 101
 Molé, M. I. 224
 Molesworth, Sir W. II. 79, 85
 Moll, Baron. I. 113
 Monckton Milnes. _See_ _Houghton, Lord_.
 Monnoyer, J. B. I. 105
 Montague House. I. 104
 Montague, Duke of. I. 105
 Montani. I. 42
 Monte Cassino. II. 241
 Moore, T. I. 94, 314
 Morgan, Lady. I. 24
 Morgan de, Professor. I. 262
 Morton, C. I. 109
 Mounier, M. II. 292
 Munarini, Count. I. 41.
 Murat. I. 17
 Murchison, Sir R. I. I. 257 II. 270, 302
 Murillo, B. I. 244
 “Museum Megrims.” I. 346
 Museum. _See_ _British Museum_.

 Napier, Lord. II. 81
 Napier, M. I. 85
 Napoleon I. I. 28
 Napoleon III. I. 15 II. 159, 235
 Newton, C. T. II. 45, 48, 51, 299
 Niccolini, Signor. II. 133
 Nicolas, Sir H. I. 349
 Nizzoli, A. I. 33
 Normanby, Lord. I. 214
 Northcote, Sir Stafford. II. 303
 Norton, Mrs. I. 321
 Numeister. I. 295

 Obizzo III. I. 9
 Oldfield, Mr. II. 29
 Orsay, Count d’. I. 320
 Orsini, F. II. 154, 156, 159
 Otho, Emperor. I. 7
 Overstone, Lord. II. 145
 Ovid. I. 320
 Owen, Professor. I. 366 II. 38
 Oxford, Earl of. I. 104

 Pageot, M. I. 204
 Palladio. I. 342
 Pallavacino, U. I. 8
 Palmerston, Lord. I. 248, 332 II. 12, 28, 46, 54, 135,
    149, 161, 173, 261
 PANIZZI, A. Birth. I. 10
   University. I. 11
   Carbonaro. I. 19
   Letter to Tax-gatherer. I. 51
   Moore’s verses. I. 94
   First Appointment. I. 100
   Naturalized British Subject. I. 117
   Keeper of Printed Books. I. 133
   Official Residence. I. 140
   At Ischl. I. 189
   At Parma. I. 193
   Portrait by Watts at Holland House. I. 324
   Portrait by Marochetti. I. 385
   Appointed Principal Librarian. II. 11
   Mr. Newton’s Expedition to Budrum. II. 46
   D.C.L. of Oxford. II. 53
   Panizzi and Lord Shrewsbury. II. 75
   Naples, 1851. II. 96
   Death of his Sister. II. 100
   At Rome. II. 100
   Interview with Ferdinand II. II. 102
   Spies. II. 103
   “Vicaria.” II. 105
   Leaves Naples. II. 109
   Honours. II. 112
   Sir J. Lacaita. II. 208
   Visits Napoleon III. II. 217
   Ill-health. II. 237
   Departure for Naples. II. 238
   Convents, &c. II. 243
   Resignation. II. 257
   Pension. II. 261
   Testimonial. II. 265
   Senator. II. 299
   Athenæum Club. II. 302
   Knighthood refused. II. 305
   K.C.B. II. 306
   Death. II. 308
 Panizzi, L. I. 10
 Panmure, Lord. I. 366
 Papal Aggression. II. 114
 Pappacarboni, A. II. 240
 Pappalettere, Abbot. II. 241
 Parenti. I. 32
 Parepa, Madame. II. 133
 Parilli, Signora. II. 102
 Parkes, J. I. 319
 Parliamentary Commission, (1835-36). I. 146
 Parliamentary Grant. I. 173
 Parry, Serjeant. I. 165, 168
 Pecchio, G. I. 58
 Peel, Sir R. I. 212, 245, 248
 Pellico, S. I. 15, 59 II. 60
 Peretti, L. I. 33
 Persigny, Count. II. 207
 Peruzzi, U. II. 179
 Petrarch. I. 307
 Petre, Mr. II. 31.
 Pheidias. II. 48
 Pickering, W. I. 68, 82, 297
 Pironti. II. 165
 Pironti, M. II. 66
 Pius IX. II. 57
 Planta, J. I. 108, 109
 Poerio, C. II. 63, 165, 176, 202
 Ponsonby, Lord. I. 198
 Ponzoni, G. I. 31
 Portland Vase. I. 187
 “Post-office Espionage.” I. 183
 Praxiteles. II. 47
 Prentiss, Captain. II. 169
 Prete, M. II. 109
 Prince Consort. I. 365 II. 12
 Prince Imperial. II. 291
 Principal Librarian. I. 107
 “Psalter of 1457.” I. 189
 Puget, P. I. 105
 Pulci, L. I. 79


 Raibolini, F. _See_ “_Il Francia_”.
 Ralston, W. R. S. II. 268
 Raphael (Sanzio). I. 309
 Reading-Room. I. 338
 Rechberg, M. de. II. 223
 Redcliffe, Lord Stratford de. II. 48
 Rembrandt. II. 40
 Reynolds, Sir J. I. 324
 Riansares, Duke de. I. 226
 Ribbonism. I. 13
 Ridout, J. I. 161
 Rochester, Bishop of. I. 316
 Rogers, S. I. 73, 193, 268, 278
 Roget, Dr. I. 121
 Roland. I. 80
 Roscoe, W. I. 49, 73, 84
 Rose, W. S. I. 80, 82, 93
 Ross, L. II. 47
 Rossetti. I. 89
 Rousseau, J. I. 105
 Roy, E. I. 262
 Royal Commission, (1847-49). I. 255
 Royal Society—Correspondence, &c. I. 119
 “Rubiera Processi di’.” I. 25
 Russell, Lady. I. 366
 Russell, Lord. I. 248, 322 II. 24, 114, 121
 Rutherfurd, Lord. I. 181, 257, 331
 Rye, W. B. I. 161, 274, 384

 Safvet-Pacha. II. 289
 Saint Ambrose. I. 7
 Sainte-Aulaire de. I. 212, 314
 Saint Benedict. II. 242
 Santa-Rosa, S. I. 23, 44
 Satriano, Prince. II. 76
 Satriano, Tito, Duke. II. 133
 Saxe-Cobourg, Prince de. I. 212
 Schell, Mr. II. 166
 Schœffer. I. 308
 Schmidt, Monseigneur. II. 211
 Scopas. II. 48
 Sébastiani Maréchal. I. 211
 Sedlnitzky, Count. I. 190
 Sella, A. II. 109
 Senesi, F. II. 131
 Senior Nassau. I. 325
 Serra Capriola, Duke. II. 61
 Settembrini, Luigi. II. 63, 67, 127, 137, 146, 150
 Settembrini, Raffaele. II. 130, 168
 Settembrini, Madame. II. 128
 Shaftesbury, Earl of. II. 174, 250
 Shee, Serjeant. II. 118
 Shelburne, Lord. II. 148
 Shepherd, Dr. I. 54, 193
 Shrewsbury, Lord. II. 74, 101, 110
 Sidmouth, Lord. I. 116
 Sloane, Sir H. I. 102
 Smirke, Sir R. I. 115
 Smirke, Sydney. I. 360, 373, 378, 386
 Smith, Joseph. I. 114
 Smith, Sydney. I. 268, 314
 Solmi. I. 32
 Somerset, Duke of. I. 257, 366. II. 22
 Sotheby, W. I. 80
 Sotomayor Duke de. I. 219, 224
 “Spanish Marriages.” I. 202
 Sparrow, R. J. II. 268
 Spencer, Earl. I. 79, 366 II. 276
 Spenser. I. 303
 Stanhope, Lord. II. 303
 Stanley, Lord. I. 151
 Stevens, H. I. 263, 288 II. 166
 “Stromboli.” II. 165
 Sumner, Archbishop of Canterbury. I. 365
 Sussex, Duke of. I. 122
 Sutherland, Duke of. II. 173, 250

 Taillefer. I. 80
 Tait, Mrs. I. 366
 Tasso. I. 334
 Taverna, Countess. I. 248
 Taylor, J. T. II. 268
 Teleki, Countess. I. 327
 Temple, Sir W. II. 27, 126
 Templeman, Dr. I. 343
 Thackeray, W. M. I. 321
 Thiers, A. I. 199, 253
 Thompson, E. M. II. 267
 Ticino. I. 42
 Tizioni. I. 12
 Toledo, Pedro de. II. 108
 Tosti Padre. II. 241
 Townley, C. I. 114
 Towsey, Captain. II. 47
 Trivulzio, E. I. 9
 Trustees of the British Museum. I. 106
 Tuppo, G. and P. I. 295
 Turner, Miss E. I. 7

 Vasto, Marquis del. II. 93
 Vercelli. I. 23
 Vedriani. I. 33
 “Vehmgerichte.” I. 14
 Vérard, A. I. 110
 Vernon, Lord. I. 295, 298
 Veronese, F. I. 295
 Verrio, A. I. 105
 “Vicaria.” II. 107
 Victor Emmanuel II. II. 64, 186
 Victoria (Queen). I. 211
 Vignati. II. 133
 Vinci, L^{o.} da. I. 309.
 Vinet, E. I. 340
 Virgil, I. 334

 Waddington, H. II. 11
 Warburton. I. 177
 Waterhouse, G. R. II. 21
 Watts, G. F. (R.A.) I. 324 II. 265
 Watts, T. I. 163, 168, 373
 Wellington, Duke of. I. 100
 Westmacott, Sir E. I. 256, 340
 White, E. I. 299
 Whittingham, C. I. 295
 William the Norman. II. 108
 Wilson, J. I. 361
 Wiseman, Cardinal. II. 75
 Wodehouse, Lord. II. 250
 Wren, Sir C. I. 342
 Wurtemberg, Duke of. I. 16

 Ymes, Mr. I. 54

 Zani, Abb. I. 308
 Zatti. I. 42
 Zetland, Lord. II. 145
 Zwilchenbart, Mr. I. 54

                             Footnotes:

-----

Footnote A:

  The Biographer’s Father of whom more particular mention will be made
  hereafter.

Footnote B:

  He knew the people and country well. In 1849 he was named Commissioner
  for the settlement of British claims at Naples, and at Messina in
  1851. In 1856 he was appointed Secretary of Legation to the Argentine
  Confederation, and after arriving at a satisfactory conclusion with
  respect to the settlement of British claims in Buenos Ayres in 1858,
  was appointed Chargé d’Affaires to the Republic of Ecuador, and
  afterwards Minister to Venezuela in 1865, where he died at Caracas, of
  yellow fever, in 1869.

Footnote C:

  In a Consistory holden in Rome, 30th September, 1850, Pius IX. named
  fourteen new cardinals, of whom four only were Italians. Amongst the
  ten foreigners was Dr. Wiseman, at the time Vicar-Apostolic of the
  London district, who was at the same time nominated Lord Archbishop of
  Westminster. On the 27th of October following, Dr. Ullathorne was
  enthroned as Roman Catholic Bishop of Birmingham, in St. Chad’s
  Cathedral in that town. The same day a pastoral letter from Dr.
  Wiseman was read in all the Roman Catholic chapels of his See, and on
  its becoming generally known that all England had been parcelled out
  into Romish dioceses, the strongest indignation was expressed
  throughout the empire.

Footnote D:

  Bombarded 9th of August, 1855.

Footnote E:

  September 14th, 1855.

Footnote F:

  Now a distinguished officer in the Italian Navy.

Footnote G:

  These memorable words were uttered in the sitting of the 9th of
  February, 1859, during the discussion on the loan contracted to
  prepare for war against Austria.

Footnote H:

  It has often been said that D’Azeglio was a believer in
  Spiritualism; this letter is, therefore, of importance as a
  confession of faith on the subject.

Footnote I:

  This resolution was added on the special suggestion of Mr.
  Disraeli.

Footnote J:

  Manzoni thus begins his famous “Cinque Maggio,” or his Ode on the
  Death of Napoleon, which has been translated by Mr. Gladstone.

Footnote K:

  Jean Baptiste Carpeaux, born at Valenciennes (1827-1875). Studied
  under Rude, Duret, and Abel de Pujol. In 1854 he took the _prix de
  Rome_. In 1865 he was commissioned to decorate the Pavilion of
  Flora in the Louvre; he there executed one of his larger works,
  called “Imperial France bringing Light to the World, and
  protecting Agriculture and Science.” In 1869 his group of
  “Dancers” was placed on the façade of the New Opera at Paris. It
  will be remembered that in the night of August 27, 1869, the work
  was disfigured by having a corrosive ink thrown over it. The spots
  were removed.

Footnote L:

    Count Pietro di Santa Rosa, Statesman.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

                         Transcriber’s Note

The list of illustrations does not have a reference to an image
appearing on p. 161. The subject of that illustration is unclear.
There is scant resemblance between this image and that on p. 154,
whihc is clearly (from the text), Felice Orsini.

The French passages in the Appendix liberally employ three asterisks
to indicate an elided name, e.g., 'Madame L——’. These have been
replaced by a long dash.

A footnote on p. 255 had no anchor in the text. An anchor has been
added at what seems an appropriate place.

On p. 252, the passage beginning ‘“You say that we are behindhand’
uses the continuating quotation in mid-line, following an ellipsis.
This would seem to be a printer’s error. A new paragraph is assumed.

A spelling discrepancy between the text and the Index for Count
`Mammiani´ (index) and `Mammiana´ (text) was resolved as a reference
to Count Mammiani of Persano.

There were a number of instances of inconsistent or apparently
incorrect diacritical marks in the French passages. Most were
corrected to adhere to other instances of the preferred spelling,
except where accents were entirely absent, in which as the text
remains as printed.

Other minor irregularities of punctuation in the Index were
corrected with no further remark. The Index also includes one
obvious error, the final reference to Lord Brougham, in Vol I, p.
399. The first volume ends with p. 389. The page number was changed
to p. 329, where a final letter from Lord Brougham appears.

The following errors were deemed most likely to be the printer’s and
have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the
page and line in the original. The ‘c’ refers to the Contents, which
were not paginated.

  c.16     Poerio and Sett[i/e]mbrini                     Replaced.

  52.5     telegraphed to the Emperor at Compi[é/è]gne    Replaced.

  60.2     those who could not be s[ie/ei]zed             Transposed.

  60.14    by Counts Mammian[a/i] and Balbo               Replaced.

  95.33    [“]I am firmly of opinion                      Added.

  109.31   who had com[e] to                              Added.

  115.n3   the strongest indig[n]ation                    Inserted.

  128.3    Be assur[r]ed that                             Removed.

  152.1    conduct of the Neapolitan Government;[)]       Added.

  165.30   some of the European Gover[n]ments             Inserted.

  183.25   and wor[d/k] with all our might.               Replaced.

  183.28   by a person who is excee[idn/din]gly well      Transposed.
           versed

  197.24   his own comments and opinions ther[e]on        Inserted.

  212.16   which is given in its [integrity/entirety]     Replaced.

  222.29   [l]orsqu’il faudrait au contraire s’entendre   Added.

  223.27   qui n’ont que quelques anné[e]s devant eux     Inserted.

  226.19   Les explications diplomatiques ont déj[â/à]    Replaced.
           été données

  289.19   Leurs Majestés en tr[é/è]s bonne santé         Replaced.

  315.23   d’une Chambre des Deput[é/é]s                  Replaced.

  316.28   Celui de l’année prochaine s’él[é/è]vera       Replaced.
           probablement

  318.24   il proclame résolument son inten[ten]tion      Removed.
           d’appliquer

  321.26   après l’application du nouveau t[ra/ar]rif     Transposed.





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The life and correspondence of Sir Anthony Panizzi, Volume 2 (of 2)" ***

Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. All rights reserved.



Home