The life and correspondence of Sir Anthony Panizzi, K.C.B., Vol. 1 (of 2) / Late principal librarian of the British museum, senator of Italy, etc.

To continue our ramblings through the correspondence in our hands, we insert a letter showing pretty clearly in what esteem Panizzi was held, not only by Lord and Lady Holland, but by others of the society of their house:—

Gambardella was a Neapolitan artist, living at that time in England. He painted a portrait of Panizzi, which, according to Count d’Orsay, was very unsatisfactory. Before quitting the subject of Panizzi’s connection with Holland House, we should hardly be justified in omitting all mention of an affair with which he became accidentally connected, and which, though itself of no great importance, was nevertheless dashed with a slight admixture of unpleasantness. A short time previously to 1850 the late Lord Holland had compiled and edited two books on the life of his father, which were afterwards published with the following titles:—“Foreign Reminiscences, by Henry Richard Lord Holland: Edited by his Son, Henry Edward Lord Holland. (London, 1850).” And “Memoirs of the ‘Whig Party During My Time,’ by Henry Richard Lord Holland: Edited by his Son, Henry Edward Lord Holland. (2 vols., London, 1852.)” The first of these works the author had, we understand, entrusted for revision and correction to the late Nassau Senior. It was afterwards, for further assurance, submitted to Panizzi, who, not altogether content with Senior’s treatment of it, subjected it to a closer revision. He performed the same office for the second book, and finally prepared both for the press.

It seems, however, that Lord John Russell, who had been instrumental in collecting the greater portion of the materials composing these volumes, had felt some alarm as to certain matters being published in them, and notably in the Reminiscences, which might possibly reflect detrimentally on the character of Lord Holland’s father, and he accordingly communicated his apprehensions to the author, accompanied by a gentle warning. This the latter regarded, not altogether unreasonably, as one of those pieces of gratuitous advice which nearly approach insults, and ill brooked the suspicion of inability to guard his own father’s reputation. A correspondence ensued, into which Panizzi, as might be expected, was drawn, and which was marked occasionally by a tinge of acrimony. However, Lord Holland, after a number of letters had passed from one party to the other, does not appear to have easily got over his sense of wounded feeling; and by a letter, not in our possession, but evidently prompted by indignation, greatly provokes Panizzi, of whose character evenness of temper was by no means the strongest point, and who seems to have been roused almost to hostility. Lord Holland, in his final reply, demands, with some asperity, that the subject be not recurred to, if their mutual friendship is to continue.

“A soft answer turneth away wrath,” and it must be owned that his Lordship’s reply, however far we may suppose him to have been wrong on the main question, is eminently that of a true gentleman:—

So ended satisfactorily this notable controversy. Nor was this the only complication of the kind in which the importance thrust on Panizzi served to involve him. To none were his relations closer than to the family of the late Lord Langdale, formerly Master of the Rolls, who, it may be remembered, in 1850, refused the office of Lord Chancellor, offered to him on the retirement of Lord Cottenham.

Panizzi’s acquaintance with Lord and Lady Langdale speedily ripened into a warm intimacy, and of their daughter, the Countess Teleki, he was the especial favourite. On the death of his Lordship, which happened on the 18th of April, 1851, Panizzi wrote as follows to Lord Rutherfurd:—

Panizzi’s intimacy with the Langdale family was, notwithstanding this great loss, kept up as of old, and to her last days Lady Langdale was a frequent guest at his house. After her husband’s death, she, laudably anxious to perpetuate the memory of so worthy a man, committed the materials for his biography to Mr. (afterwards Sir T. D.) Hardy. The book was published in 1852, and it happened that, as in the former case, Lord Holland had aroused the fears of Lord John Russell, so in the present, for like reasons, was the wrath of Lord Brougham evoked by the “Memoirs of the Right Honourable Henry Lord Langdale.”

It is really difficult to discover anything in Sir T. D. Hardy’s book which could have stirred up the sœva indignatio in Lord Brougham, as expressed in the subjoined letters, still less any aspersions on the memory of Lord Langdale himself.

The charge brought by Lord Brougham in this letter against Panizzi of being an accomplice in Sir T. D. Hardy’s crime, was, in a subsequent letter from his Lordship, repudiated by him.

Here we pause to pursue in the following chapter our anecdotical mood, illustrating the reminiscences with letters confirmatory of our various allusions—letters which in themselves possess great value, if the celebrity of their authors be borne in mind.

Panizzi and Austria; Policy of Palmerston; Mr Ellice; Scotch Sabbath; Mr Gladstone on Tasso; Panizzi and Thomas Carlyle.

Panizzi’s correspondence with the sketches drawn from it and from that of the society with which he was connected, will now be continued, for from these is to be derived his private opinion on various subjects, and no doubt can possibly be suggested as to this course furnishing irrefragable proofs of his real sentiments. Miscellaneous as are the matters of which these letters of Panizzi treat, it is not surprising, considering the disturbed and eventful state of this period, that a large proportion of them relate to politics, to which he was so irrepressibly addicted. The following to Mr Haywood and Lord Rutherfurd, contain the comments of an acute observer of the unsettled state of government and of affairs in general in this country and in the East immediately before and after the Crimean War. It is to be wished that, in addition to skill and vigilance, the credit of impartiality could also be ascribed to Panizzi. The fact is, however, that, so deep was his dislike to Austria (scarcely to be wondered at), that it strongly tinctured his political views of affairs both at home and abroad. It will be observed also that he was less of a true prophet than a keen observer.

Herein, too, he gives his opinion of the policy of Lord Palmerston and other statesmen, showing very decided and biassed views of the course they would probably adopt, and venturing on surmises which, as events have proved, were not well grounded. They, however, are valuable, not only as clear expositions of his views on the subject, but as specimens of his open and undisguised style of writing, without fear or favour, when his own political ideas required elucidation:—

To the Right Honourable Edward Ellice (whose name is familiar to all), who was an intimate friend of Panizzi, and to whose son, the lately deceased Mr. Edward Ellice, we are much indebted for the documents placed at our disposal. We find a letter on the same subject, written on the 4th of December, 1854:—

Here follows a terse little note, written in the true Panizzi style. Whether the ass mentioned in his comment on a piece of Scotch Sabbatarianism was, in the common acceptation of the term, “hired,” may be questioned. But we can testify, from our own personal experience, to the peculiar tyranny exercised on the unfortunate inhabitants of Glasgow, and which falls most heavily on innocent sojourners in that cheerful city:—

The next letter we shall quote is from Mr. Gladstone:—

With all due deference to so great an authority, and fully agreeing with his estimate of Tasso, the position assigned by Mr. Gladstone to Virgil is scarcely doing justice to the chief of the Latin poets. Panizzi, in a letter to Mr. Gladstone, says:—“I shall be happy, you may be sure, to read what you say on Tasso, who is, no doubt, greatly below Homer, but not so much below Virgil as people affect to say.”

It is true that Virgil laboured under one unfortunate disadvantage; the language in which he wrote is certainly less fitted, in point of simplicity and sublimity, as a vehicle for epic poetry than the Greek.

It will not detract from the miscellaneous character of the information promised in this chapter to subjoin a few extracts from a correspondence which took place between Panizzi and Mr. Thomas Carlyle, who was not one of those who were entirely satisfied with the defective Reading-Room at the British Museum, which preceded the present splendid building, soon to be described. Full of sad experiences of the manifold inconveniences of the former, he pardonably, but erroneously, imagined that it might be possible to obtain some more private and more comfortable spot wherein to pursue his studies at the Museum. In his endeavours to attain this end, however, he was not altogether successful.

On the 11th of April, 1853, the eminent historian addressed a letter to Panizzi, which he answered, we fear, in terms somewhat too severe, so much so, that we purposely avoid making public anything which was simply the fruit of former quarrels; be that as it may, the correspondence was submitted to the Trustees four days afterwards, together with a report in which Panizzi stated that he knew of no Private Room, nor of any quieter corner in all the Library for the purpose of study, than the Reading-Room; but even if he did, he did not think that in a Public Library, supported at the National expense for public use, any person should enjoy advantages and facilities denied to the generality. Better accommodation was, undoubtedly, desirable for readers—for them all—but not for any especial individual, leaving others to fare as well or as ill as they might. On May 7th the Trustees approved of Panizzi’s conduct.

Not altogether content with this decision, Mr. Carlyle seems to have made an attempt to enlist on his behalf the interest of Lady Ashburton, and, through her, that of Lord Clarendon. The result of this attempt will be gathered from the following letter, addressed to the latter:—

Let us, however, say no more about this unpleasant affair, and look upon it as another example of the unbending, unswerving nature of Panizzi in all matters of duty; for although he was, doubtless, impressed with the great deserts of the applicant for relief and especial accommodation, on this occasion he saw no reason for laying himself open to a charge of favouritism, or, under any pretence, being a party to conceding to one reader, however great his merits, that which would undoubtedly be denied to another.

It has been, and doubtless for some centuries to come will be, a matter of regret that the unrivalled collection called the British Museum has not, after the incalculable labour bestowed, and the vast sums of money spent upon it, found a home more worthy of its invaluable contents than the present building. Of this huge pile—an irregular oblong—but little appeals to the eye, less to the power of discussion. The Eastern and Western Wings still remain partially exposed to view in all their normal hideousness of yellow brick, unadorned by aught save a few meagre mouldings. The front, being, of course, the most conspicuous part of the structure, has been the object of attention, and has been ornamented in a manner suiting it to the public gaze. To effect this desirable, and certainly most legitimate object, choice has strangely been made of a style which, in itself most beautiful, is so hampered and restricted by the straitest and severest rules as to be almost incapable of adaptation to purposes of modern utility, and a magnificent Ionic portico and peristyle have been erected; the building, as a whole, thus presenting a striking contrast to any other structure to be found in the metropolis.

Confront the British Museum for one moment with the Madeleine of Paris, and how great is the difference! In the latter is seen the nearest approach to true Grecian architecture, combined with admirable proportions, and tasteful and correct ornamentation; by admission of light from the roof, the unsightliness of windows inserted in the walls is avoided, and, in its entirety, the building fairly represents that which it purports to be.

Let the visitor, however, enter, and he will find himself somewhat disappointed; for, instead of seeing a tolerably correct Greek temple, he will find a singularly ineffective and mediocre Christian Church. The profuseness of decoration, much of it foreign to the style, the want of power in what should be the central point of attraction, the general horizontal character of the lines, throwing out the building in an unnatural degree—all show the abortiveness of an effort to lend the rigidity of ancient forms to the exigencies of modern tastes.

Still, to compare the Madeleine, with all its faults, to the British Museum, would be an insult to the former; not that the classical façade of our own building is without merit: the nobility and majesty of the portico and colonnade cannot well be denied, and, if built of white marble (supposing the brightness of the marble could be preserved in this variable climate) instead of their present dingy material, they would have constituted, by their own merit, a most striking and dignified object, whatever cavils might have existed as to the reality of the purpose to which they would have been applied.

A certain distance, however, is requisite for the view, and this it is most difficult to obtain; on closer inspection it will be seen that the imposing range of pillars rather draws attention to, than serves to conceal, the frightful sash windows which glare from behind it, and whose light it obscures.

In the tympanum of the portico is a group of sculptured figures by Sir R. Westmacott. To this M. Edgar Vinet, in a notice of the British Museum in the Journal des Débats, written in 1858 (30th of December) alludes in the following words:—“Un fronton récemment terminé, et dans lequel Sir Richard Westmacott, ce qui se conçoit pour un sujet pareil, a représenté, d’une manière un peu confuse, l’homme passant de l’état sauvage, sans l’influence de la religion, à laà la civilisation et au progrès.”

This cluster of sculpture is by no means happy, and the kindly phrase of our critic, “une manière un peu confuse,” might, with a little freedom and more truth, be rendered by the English words, muddle, cram, and confusion.

On either flank of the main building, and in advance of it, is a block of official dwelling-houses, which, as some may remember, called down much denunciation at the time they were erected; they are, however, so void of pretentiousness that they seem hardly to deserve any very lavish outpouring of righteous indignation. It is enough to say of them that they would have been better away.

The British Museum is, however, more admirable inside than out. Here, nevertheless, the Nemesis of the style pursues the observer even more unrelentingly. If some of the vast and dismal rooms be not the very halls of Eblis, at least they are eminently fitted for the depositories of the sarcophagi of those who have descended thither. The beauty of their contents may, it is true, engross the visitor’s attention for a time, but he can hardly hope to remain long free from the depression and melancholy with which the surrounding air seems impregnated. The lighting (and here, again, the blame must be exclusively laid on the style adopted) is in many places most defective; as to the mural decoration, it cannot be better described than in the words of the already quoted M. Vinet:—A l’exception de la salle de lecture, vaste rotonde dont la coupole reluit d’or la, décoration intérieure du Musée Britannique vous étonne par sa simplicité; les murailles sont nues, quelques méandres, peints à l’encaustique, entourent des plafonds percés par un vitrage, par où passe une lumière froide et grise: voilà tout ce que l’orgueilleuse Albion a cru devoir accorder à l’embellissement intérieur de son Musée: décoration conçue avec un tel puritanisme qu’elle est restée au dessous des salles d’attente des chemins de fer, comme ornementation et comme goût. Une large cheminée de fonte, chauffée à blanc huit mois de l’année, occupe le centre de chaque pièce, et, par son prosaïsme forme le plus étrange contraste avec les œuvres élégantes, filles du soleil, qui l’entourent.”

To the objection that those who thus flatly condemn one form of architecture are bound to suggest another more suitable, a ready, and by no means embarrassing answer is forthcoming. The Pointed, the most beautiful and ductile of all styles, may be left out of consideration, as being hardly of sufficient congruity to the relics of art stored in the National collection. Moreover, to have attempted a Gothic structure at the time when the present Museum was built, might have afforded an instructive example of corruptio optimi pessima, but, in all probability, would have failed in point of utility, and would most certainly have been an outrage on good taste.

It is hardly possible, however, to suppose that the illustrious architect of the British Museum was not as conversant with Roman as with Greek architecture, or that he was wholly unacquainted with the Romano-Italian works of Wren or Palladio.

As the Roman, unlike the Grecian, and still more unlike the Pointed, does not mainly depend for its beauty on the lines of its construction, the facility for legitimately decorating a building of the shape of the British Museum would have been far greater in the first-named style. Who shall say that in a gallery of the Roman type the statues of Roman Emperors, or even the monuments of Assyrian Kings, are out of place? or that the disjecta membra of a Greek frieze or pediment would be incongruous with an architecture so nearly akin to their own? At any rate, we should have been able to view them with comfort, which is scarcely the case at present; for the power of lighting would have been increased tenfold. Opportunities, too, of a more effective system of intramural ornamentation would have been offered, and many other minor advantages, conducive to beauty or convenience, secured. Happily, in the latest addition to the great building—an addition that owes alike its origin, position, and form of construction to the enterprise and genius of Panizzi—the ponderous and unsuccessful imitation of the Greek style has been laid aside, and a light and graceful form of the Italian order adopted.

This little gem of architecture—this “Margarita”—is the “New Reading-Room.”

The history and traditions of the Reading-Room at the British Museum have been so faithfully and minutely recorded by others that it would be unpardonable to overcrowd our space in this work with too full a description of them. Since the year 1758, a Reading-Room has always been attached to the Museum, and the original apartment was, by all accounts, especially comfortable and even luxurious. Though small, it seems to have been sufficiently large to meet the requirements of those early days of its existence. We read of this pleasant corner room in “the basement story, with one oak table and twenty chairs,” so small as to be fitted for only twenty readers, yet it was seldom patronized to the extent of its full capabilities. In one respect it must have been truly paradisiacal, for it opened into a delightful garden in which, as tradition has it, the presiding deity was accustomed to walk, although not in the cool of the evening. This gentleman, Dr. Templeman, afterwards Secretary to the Society of Arts, seems, notwithstanding, to have found his duties sufficiently onerous. After eight months’ incumbency,incumbency, “he takes the opportunity of reminding the Committee that he begs to be relieved from the excessive attendance of six hours’ continuance each day, for it is more than he is able to bear,” and on March 13, 1760, he records with a chuckle “Last Tuesday, no company coming to the Reading-Room, Dr. Templeman ventured to go away about 2 o’clock.” Not above twenty readers were admitted monthly during the first few months, and when the novelty of the institution had worn off, even this average declined to ten or twelve. It is true that among these appear the names of Johnson, Gray, Hume and Blackstone. Nor were the regulations patterns of liberality. The statutes directed that notice should be given in writing the day before to the officer in attendance by each person “what book or manuscript he will be desirous of perusing the following day; which book or manuscript in such request will be lodged in some convenient place in the said room, and will from thence be delivered to him by the officer of the said room.”

From the delightful garden with which it communicated, and its almost rural surroundings; from the illustrious names of those ornaments of the silver age of our literature who frequented it, and in the excellence of whose works one almost seems to discover traces of quiet ease of study, such as this resort must have afforded, it is with mingled feelings of regret and envy that we turn to our own time and lament that the world of readers and writers should have arrived at such monstrous dimensions and such unmanageable proportions.

One great improvement has recently been effected, the electric light—the latest application of science to the means of illuminating large buildings, has been, through the energy of Mr. E. A. Bond, the present Principal Librarian, most successfully introduced into this department—gladdening the hearts of students by increasing their hours of research, and enabling them to seek, with its clear effulgence, the information which they desire to possess.

Our contemplation of Panizzi’s majestic work has, however, its dark shade. It reminds us sadly of the bustling and feverish spirit which pervades our present, literature; of the enormous trade of bookmaking openly carried on amongst us, and of the lack both of dignity and polish only too often conspicuous in the best works of our best modern authors.

The quiet ease and learned leisure gradually died away, readers and authors of all classes rapidly increased; insignificant as were their numbers compared with the present multitude, it became incumbent on the authorities to prepare something more than the single and comfortable room with its garden; and in the old House and in its last days, three rooms were set apart for their accommodation.

To the first Reading-Room in the new building but scant praise can be accorded. The appointments of it were in no wise satisfactory, whilst the mode of access was almost mean and decidedly incommodious. Previously crowded, as a rule, it is on record that, although constructed to hold only about 120 readers, no less than 200 persons were frequently crammed into it. A larger apartment was, therefore, urgently called for; and, in 1838, the old room was closed, another being opened in a different quarter of the building. This, divided into two compartments, was about one-third larger than its predecessor, and in its size alone its superiority appears to have consisted. It is true that, in many respects, its fittings were far better, that a more convenient entrance was constructed, and that more attention was paid to the comfort, if not so much of the readers, at any rate of certain of the attendant officials, who had before this been wretchedly housed.

The lighting by means of windows many feet from the ground was, in both rooms, lamentably deficient. In neither had due care been taken to provide sufficient ventilation. The admission of fresh air appears to have been chiefly effected by the simple contrivance of opening the windows, a practice not always possible, and not unlikely, at certain seasons of the year to be attended with as much danger as would have been the retention of foul air. Readers who remained in the stifling atmosphere of either room for any length of time were known to complain of a peculiar languor and headache, and the expressive term Museum Megrims was invented to describe the uneasy sensations of the too persistent student.

The following is an extract from a private letter, written a short time since, in which, although the writer confesses that his memory, at this distance of time, is not as fresh as it might be, a fair description is given of the second or intermediate Reading-Room, as it was in the year 1846:—

The Library of the British Museum continued to increase in proportion to its rapid influx of readers; and in 1849, the collection, excluding the masses of MSS., pamphlets, and other unbound works, amounted to no less than 435,000 volumes.^[Q] What a vast acquisition must this have been to the public, whether to the student, the critic, or the occasional lounger!

The power of exercising rights of ownership was, however, by no means commensurate with the legal title to the property: indeed, owing to lack of room and other conveniences, such rights, in the case of very many who would otherwise have taken advantage of them, scarcely extended to liberty of inspecting the outsides of the volumes; as to the insides, they were literally closed books.

Such a state of affairs made a deep impression on Panizzi, whose incessant anxiety for, and interest in the Department over which he presided, added to his repugnance to suffering so much of its contents to lie idle and unprofitable, caused in him a ceaseless feeling of regret. He saw and knew, only too well, how alone reform was to take place—viz., by provision of ample room, and by due attention too the requirements of readers, at the same time securing the necessary amount of space in the building for the ever increasing additions to the Library.

From a very early period his attention had been directed to the requirements of the Reading-Room, and an important improvement in its service had been introduced by him even before he became Keeper of Printed Books. Before his time, the press-mark denoting the place of a book in the Library was not affixed to the Reading-room copy of the Catalogue, and the reader simply indicated the books he wished to see, which were then looked out in the Library copy of the Catalogue by the attendants. This system, which may have answered very well while the daily average of visitors did not exceed thirty, became entirely inadequate when they amounted to two hundred; and Mr. Baber, at Panizzi’s suggestion, directed that press-marks should be put to the Reading-Room Catalogue, so that the readers might search it for themselves. This innovation occasioned an immense saving of time, but was naturally resented by many to whom time was of less importance than trouble. Sir Harris Nicolas, an excellent type of the really hard-working reader, thought differently, and spontaneously addressed a letter to Panizzi, congratulating him upon his reform. This incident had an amusing sequel. Sir H. Nicolas saw fit to assail Panizzi’s management in a series of anonymous articles in the Spectator newspaper, and among other points censured the very regulation of which he had previously approved. A correspondence ensued, in the course of which Panizzi cited the material parts of Sir Harris’s former letter to himself without marks of quotations, and Sir H. Nicolas mistaking his own arguments for his antagonist’s, fell foul of them in a fashion which gave Panizzi the opportunity he sought of withdrawing from further controversy with “a man endowed with so flexible a judgment, and so treacherous a memory.”

The improvements introduced by Panizzi into the internal arrangements of the Old Reading-Room were nevertheless trivial in comparison with those which he was destined to accomplish by the construction of a new one.

In 1850, he submitted to the Trustees his first plan for a new Reading-Room. As this, however, involved the acquisition of land and the consequent erection of new buildings, it was rejected on account of the delay and expense which would inevitably follow. The next plan of reform relating to the enlargement of the capacities of the Museum in general was brought forward by the Trustees themselves. This or a similar scheme had long since been mooted, but was regularly formulated for the first time in 1848. Their proposal was to buy up the whole of one portion of the street, on the east side of the Museum, to build on the site, and to complete that part of the edifice which faced Russell Square with a grand façade. This scheme, the cost of which was calculated to amount to only about a quarter of a million, did not receive the favourable consideration of Government. There is much reason to be thankful that the infliction of a second grand façade has been spared us. The first sketch for the New Reading-Room was drawn by Panizzi himself on April 18, 1852, and shown to Mr. Winter JonesWinter Jones on the same day.

On May 5 following, Panizzi sent in a report setting forth at large, and in forcible terms, the discomfort and inconvenience existing in his own Department of the Institution, and recommending, as a remedy, the construction of the new building in the inner quadrangle. It will not be amiss to give this report in extenso, as it will present something more than a sketch of the work intended—omitting, of course, all minor and unimportant details.