“Authors’ names were not better treated than the subjects. Bonaventura, the Christian name of Cavalieri, was taken for a family name, and a cross reference put from it to Cavalieri; of the three mathematical decades of Giovan Camillo Gloriosi, one was put under Camillo, his second Christian name, and the remainder under his family name Gloriosi. On entering a collection, the word Collezione was taken for a surname, and Nuova for a christian name, and thus the entry is to be found “Collezione (N.)” I will not notice mere errors of the press, of which the number is prodigious; but there are entries which prove abundantly that the printer was not to be accused of them. Cossali’s History of Algebra in Italy was printed Nella Real Tipografia Parmense, and Parmense was gravely inserted as the name of the place where the book was printed.

Da Cunha’s mathematical principles were translated into French by D’Abreu after the author’s death, and have this title: “Principes Mathématiques de feu J. A. Da Cunha.” Anyone who has even merely heard of the feu Lord Maire de Londres” may easily guess, without much knowledge of French, that feu here means late, i.e., deceased. The compiler of this Catalogue, however, did not attach such a gloomy meaning to this word; but philosophically conceived it to signify fire, as is evident by his precaution in writing it with a capital F, Feu; and by substituting the word Opuscules for the correct one, Principes, the following entry was made:—

“Da Cunha (J. A.), Opuscules Mathématiques de Feu, traduits littéralement du Portugais, par J. M. D’ Abreu. 8vo Bordeaux, 1811.

The idea conveyed to a Frenchman by this title would not be very clear, but it might possibly be understood that this is an infamous book, deserving to be burnt. It is a fortunate thing for feu Mr. Da Cunha, that this libel on his fair name was not published in his own country (he was a Portuguese) when he was living, and when the fashion was, not only to burn books, but authors; else, so dangerous an insinuation by the Royal Society of London might have exposed him to the chance of paying dearly for their blunders and bad French.

If errors of so ludicrous a nature occur in the first sheet which was so often revised, one may easily conceive in what state that part of the catalogue was which was set up, but not corrected. As a specimen I transcribe three entries in the last slip, containing a list of names put down pêle-mêle, of works said to be mathematical.

Litheosphorus, sive de lapide Bononiensi lucem in se conceptam ab ambiente claro mox in tenebris mire conseruante liber Fortunii Liceti Genuensis pridem in Pisano, nuper in Patauino, nunc in Bononiensi Archigymnasio Philosophi eminentis. 4to. Utini, 1646.

I suspected at one time, that the error arose from Litheosphorus being mistaken for a star, and no attention being paid to that explanation “sive de Lapide Bononiensi.” I am now satisfied that my suspicion was unfounded, and that the blunder is gravely, deliberately, and learnedly perpetrated; it is not to be attributed to the mere ignorance, that lapis means ameans a stone, not a star, but to a very ingenious process of reasoning, by which phosphorus was metamorphosed into a heavenly body.

To demonstrate in “as correct and complete” a manner “as the circumstances of the case will allow,” I beg to call Your Royal Highness’s attention to another work by Liceti, which does exist in the library of the Royal Society, and which was catalogued in the following manner, in the specimen now under consideration.

Licetus (Fort). De Lunæ sub obscurâ luce prope Conjunctiones Libri III. 4to. Utini, 1641.

In my proofs it stands thus:

Licetus (Fortunius). De Lunæ subobscurâ luce prope conjunctiones, et in eclipsibus observata. 4to. Utini, 1642.

Your Royal Highness may have heard of the Board of Agriculture having sent for twelve copies of Miss Edgeworth’s essay on Irish Bulls, for the use of that Institution, and this ludicrous mistake was thought so exquisite, that no one would have fancied it could possibly be equalled. But the attempt at cataloguing drawn up by some learned astronomers, the ornament and pride of the Royal Society, proves that among the members of this famous Institution, there are some who could leave the whole Board of Agriculture in the shade. The work on star-fish, mistaken for a work on constellations, not only is adorned with plates, showing that it treated of aquatic not heavenly bodies, but on the very title-page there is an oval engraving representing on the upper half the heavens covered with stars, and the lower half, the sea with star-fish; with the motto, sicut superius ita est inferius, which was taken literally by the acute individual who made this entry, and who very mathematically argued that the stars below, must belong to the domain of astronomical science, if they be, as the author declares, like those above. On the recto of the following page a dedication of the work occurs to Sir Hans Sloane, as President, and to the Fellows of the Royal Society, which probably was either passed over unread by the modest fellow who catalogued the book; or served to dazzle his understanding with such passages as this: “fulgent sidera in cœlis, in orbe litterario illustris vestra Societas. Sideribus inscribere stellas convenit.” But how could any one doubt that the work was astronomical, when the writer provokingly begins his preface: “Cœlorum spectare sidera decet juvatque Astronomos.” It is true he continues: “Physicorum interest stellis marinis visum intendere.” But this was probably taken for a figurative speech; and with that bold decision by which great men are distinguished, this work on so inferior a subject as star-fish, dedicated to the Royal Society, was by the élite of that same body declared to be a treatise on much higher bodies, on constellations, and consequently classed among astronomical books, whilst I, thinking marine stars to be animals, did not dare to follow an example so splendidé mendax, and classed the work among others on zoological subjects. What a difference, both with respect to the length of the title and the classes in which it was entered! Linckius would rise from his grave, were he to see mis-classed a work, which, as he said, he had dedicated to the resplendent constellations forming the Royal Society of his days, just because it treated of stars! How fortunate that the learned persons who are to render my Catalogue correct and complete have it still in their power to appease his indignant shade by re-classing the work among astronomical treatises!

These few specimens will satisfy any one of the justice of my assertion that it was impossible to correct such a work. I am fully aware of the difficulties, nay, of the impossibility, of compiling any catalogue which shall be free from errors of a very grave description. No work requires more indulgence than one of this sort; but the specimens which I have given are such as cannot admit of excuse or palliation: they must at once convince the most indulgent observer that those who committed them were incapable, utterly incapable of performing the task they had undertaken. After what we have seen, shall we wonder that Newton’s Principia should be misplaced? We cannot wonder; but by Your Royal Highness, who has the honour to fill the chair once occupied by that immortal man, and by those Fellows of the Royal Society who are not unworthy of the distinction, something like sorrow must be felt, when they see in the catalogue of their Library that work classed among pure Mathematics, as if Mechanics had nothing to do with it.”

How amusing are some of Panizzi’s remarks, and how fully do they evince the supreme contempt he must have felt for the ignorance displayed in the sheets, which were submitted for his correction. It is impossible not to help dwelling on and re-quoting such a sentence as this: “It is a fortunate thing for feu Mr. Da Cunha that this libel (the utter non-appreciation of the word feu) on his fair name was not published in his own country (he was a Portuguese) when he was living, and when the fashion was not only to burn books, but authors.” This must have been a cutting but amusing hint for His Royal Highness, and then we perceive the manly tone of Panizzi when he added: “So dangerous an insinuation by the Royal Society of London might have exposed him to the chance of paying dearly for their blunders and bad French.”

In October, 1833, the New Catalogue, entrusted to Panizzi was commenced; not, however, left to his own discretion, for cabined, cribbed, confined, he was called on to follow a plan, concocted by the Library Committee, of which he incidentally remarks: “Heaven forbid that I should ever be supposed guilty of having approved of it, or be suspected capable of selecting such a plan, had I been at liberty to execute the work as I pleased. I agreed to carry their plan into execution on my own responsibility.

The agreement entered into with the Council of the Society was only a verbal one, and, by its terms, the compiler of the Catalogue was to be paid according to the number of titles written, and at certain stages of his labour, the first instalment when the whole of the titles were written, the second when they were ready for the printer, and the third when the book was completed. This agreement or contract was never reduced to writing. Panizzi, it may be, was inexperienced in a business point of view, but it is more probable that he placed implicit confidence in the understanding with the Council, through the Chairman Mr. Lubbock.

As the work progressed, however, the members of the Library Committee appear to have conceived that they had a right to interfere with the execution of the work. The compiler firmly resisted this, and it was ultimately conceded that any proposals of the Committee were to be regarded merely as suggestions.

In the course of a year Panizzi, having nearly completed the writing of the titles on slips of paper, applied for the first instalment of the remuneration in proportion to the number he had written.

What must have been his mortification to find that the Council would not accept his computation, but referred his account to an underling, in consequence of whose report they reduced the demand by one-third.

The consequent offer was rejected, and Panizzi’s claim afterwards admitted by payment of the full amount.

A similar difficulty or objection arose about the second instalment, due in July, 1835; when, after the Council had voted but one half the amount, they ultimately granted the other, and the whole was paid.

When matters had progressed to the final stage, the revision of the printer’s work for press, Panizzi had again occasion to complain of the interference of the Catalogue Committee, and of insufficient access to the books.

The Council hereupon took the opinion of certain then well-known bibliographers, which was unanimously in favour of the compiler, nevertheless it was resolved “that Panizzi he no longer employed in the formation of the Catalogue.”

The Council had only paid a portion of the value of the work in its possession, had refused arbitration, and by their summary resolution thought to escape further liability.

Not so thought Panizzi. He maintained his claim, and the matter, after narrowly escaping the intervention of the law, was settled satisfactorily through the good offices of friends.

The summing up of his case, as expressed by himself, in concluding his letter to the Duke of Sussex, is worthy of reproduction here.

“It would be an empty boast were I to say that the pecuniary loss which I must needs submit to is indifferent to me. It is no such thing; yet I can conscientiously say, that I should never have taken the trouble of writing on this subject, had the pecuniary loss been the only consequence of the conduct of the Council towards me. But, after the observations made by Your Royal Highness, were I to submit without stating the whole truth, I might be suspected guilty either of unwillingness or incapability of fulfilling my contract, and that I could not brook. I have offered over and over again to the Council, through the secretaries, to refer our disputes to any two competent judges; the consciousness of their being in the wrong has made the Council shrink from this fair proposal. I can and will do no more. If, however, Your Royal Highness considers it no more than due to the character of the Royal Society, that the transactions between the Council and myself should be thoroughly and openly investigated, I will readily and cheerfully submit them to the consideration of a tribunal so constituted. If, on the contrary, Your Royal Highness be advised that no further steps need be taken in the matter, I shall have my own opinion of the conduct of the Council, and of the Society at large, as well as the Public, will be at liberty to form their own. They will perceive that a contract was entered into between the Council of the Royal Society and myself for the performance of a literary work: That the Council broke the terms of that contract: That they refused to state by what right they did so: That they would never answer my proposals of referring to arbitration any point in which they thought I did not act in accordance with our agreement: That, after the rudest and most uncourteous proceeding, they stooped to having clandestine access to private drawers containing the proofs of what they owe to me, and have now the meanness not to pay their debt, which, by their dishonest proceedings they are aware it is out of my power legally to claim.”

Thus thwarted and impeded at every step, Panizzi at last succeeded in once again proving that right can contend successfully with might; and though years have elapsed since this unseemly treatment at the hands of a great and learned Society took place, it is well that the occurrence should not pass into oblivion, as it forms a conclusive proof of the determined astuteness of the man, of his endurance of character, and of his ability to judge of the weak points of his adversaries, a foretaste of his prowess in many a subsequent struggle in his oft-times arduous career.

Panizzi’s dealings with the Royal Society having been thus satisfactorily disposed of, it will now be necessary to return to the more matter-of-fact conduct of this remarkably persevering man in his every-day efforts to attain that position which he held steadily in view—efforts which were finally crowned with success.

At this time it was not an unusual thing, and especially during the absence of the Keeper, for him to spend some of his holidays, and evenings after official hours, in the Library; and it is a well-known fact that in the winter, when the Museum closed early, he remained at his post working by candle-light, which, however, was put a stop to on account of the alleged possible danger of the practice.

About three years after his appointment, Panizzi was, in a report written April 26th, 1834, proposed by Mr. Baber to direct the General Catalogue then contemplated, Mr. Baber’s scheme of Cataloguing the books in the Library not having been adopted. Panizzi and other of his colleagues were desired to prepare titles for a new Catalogue. It appeared, by the end of the year (1834), that he had written a larger quantity of titles than any two of the other gentlemen, which assiduity gained for him the approbation of the Trustees. Panizzi’s own words before a Royal Commission on the 20th of May, 1848, were in these terms:—

“In 1835, without my knowing anything about it, the Trustees found, from a return laid before them in the month of January, that I had been so fortunate as to do my duty well, and in a manner that satisfied them. Mr. Baber was called in (I know this from himself), and he was asked, I believe, if I recollect right, by the Bishop of London (Dr. Blomfield) how it was that I had done so remarkably well; and as there was an election going on, I remember the expression used (as Mr. Baber reported to me) was, that I was ‘at the head of the poll,’ Mr. Baber told me, that he had the goodness to answer that I was there, and that I would keep there. That led the Trustees to consider how I was remunerated, and they found that my remuneration was much lower than that of other people.”

In consequence of this the adequacy of the remuneration in question was, on the 10th of January, 1835, referred to the Sub-Committee of Finance for their consideration; but at this meeting nothing material was resolved on, except that the claim was admitted, and the matter considered worthy of further deliberation. Sir R. H. Inglis was added to the Finance Committee for this purpose; but in June of the same year a meeting took place, with Lord Farnborough in the chair, when the following resolution was passed:—

“That it is the unanimous opinion of the Sub-Committee that it would be desirable for the Trustees to mark, by an increased remuneration to Mr. Panizzi to the amount of £75 a year, that making up the sum that he would receive if he were an Assistant Librarian, their sense of Mr. Panizzi’s value to the Museum, and also of the particular service which, by his zeal and knowledge, he has rendered in an eminent degree to the advancement of the new Catalogue of the Printed Books.”

The members present, beside the Chairman, were the Marquis of Lansdowne, Lord Ashburton, and the Right Hon. Thomas Grenville.

Here, therefore, was strong admission of the inadequacy of Panizzi’s remuneration at the time, and strong special reasons were advanced to support that admission, as well as the proposal for a more adequate salary.

It was necessary for this resolution to be submitted to the General Meeting on July 11th, 1835. Another minute was then passed openly against the principle affirmed six months previously; it ran:—

“The Trustees, having taken into their consideration the Report of the Sub-Committee of June 20th, although entirely concurring in the opinion expressed by the Sub-Committee as to the zeal and ability with which Mr. Panizzi has discharged the duties of his office, and desirous of evincing the sence which they entertain of his services to the Museum, yet feel themselves to be precluded, by the general principles upon which the scale of remuneration to officers in similar stations and with the same degrees of responsibility must of necessity be framed, from adopting a rate of payment to Mr. Panizzi differing from that which is fixed for the office which he at present holds in the Museum.”

It might be interesting to inquire into the motives of the Committee, in taking the adequacy of the remuneration in question into their consideration. Was the concession made to the office or to the man who held it? But we need not pursue this.

The minute of the General Meeting produced an unprecedented event. Mr. Grenville, one of the Committee present, when he saw what was taking place, rose, left the room, and never attended a meeting of the Trustees again. The increase was not granted. To preserve the correctness of our chronology, it is necessary to reserve an account of Mr. Grenville till much later on. It is fair to state that Lord Lansdowne and Lord Ashburton were not present on this occasion; but the Board considered it necessary to instruct the Secretary (then Mr. J. Forshall) to forward to Mr. Grenville a copy of the minute which he sent to Panizzi, with the following note:—

“I do not lose a moment in transmitting to you, for your own custody, the minute made by the Trustees: it is at least an honourable testimony of the sense which they entertain of the value of your services in the British Museum, and as such I send you the original minute as I received it, and I beg you to keep it.—Yours, &c., &c., T. Grenville.”

In March, 1837, the Keeper, Mr. Baber, gave notice that he intended to resign his post at midsummer. Mr. Cary, the celebrated translator of Dante, who was then an Assistant-Librarian, would have been the natural successor; but on account of his infirmities the Principal Trustees raised an objection to such an appointment.

Now it is of great importance to us that these statements should be made known, for much controversy, angry discussion, amounting to personal vituperation, and many letters ensued on the appointment of Panizzi as Keeper of the Printed Books, which, notwithstanding, took place on the 15th of July of the same year.

Meetings were held against the “Foreigner;” and one of the speakers made an open statement that Panizzi had been seen in the streets of London selling white mice: had it been a few years later, possibly the distinctive title of organ-grinder would have been added. The infirmities of Mr. Cary were well known, and Panizzi, out of regard and in fairness to him, never asked for the place, nor took any decided step for the purpose of obtaining it. On the 13th of March, 1837, he addressed a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the other Principal Trustees, soliciting in general terms that if any appointment was to take place they would bear his past services in mind.

The letter was to the following effect:—

“British Museum, March 13, 1837.

“My Lord Archbishop,

It is reported, that, in consequence of the new arrangements which are going to be introduced into this establishment, some vacancies are likely to occur in the offices of the several departments. Having been so fortunate as to be honoured with the approbation of the Trustees for (as they were pleased to say in July, 1835), ‘the zeal and ability’ with which I have (during a period of nearly six years), discharged the duties of the office which I now hold in the British Museum, I venture to beg of your Grace, and the other Principal Trustees, to keep my humble services in view should any place become vacant for which I should be deemed qualified. I take the liberty of appealing to my past as an earnest of my future conduct, should the Principal Trustees deem it expedient to promote me to any higher situation than that which I now hold, and in which I might humbly but warmly second the views and wishes of the Trustees in extending the public utility of this Institution.

In the hope that this application may receive the favourable consideration of your Grace and the other Principal Trustees,

I have the honour to be, &c.,
A. Panizzi.”

The letters to the Lord Chancellor and Speaker were in the same terms.

It was a common opinion that Mr. Cary had been ill-treated and passed over in favour of Panizzi. However, Samuel Rogers, the poet, a friend of Cary’s, after having strongly recommended the latter, thought that, considering his ill-health it would scarcely be acting fairly to the Principal Trustees, or to the public to press his claims. Mr. Cary saw the Speaker, who, in the course of conversation, said: “I heard of a Mr. Panizzi, who is next: What do you know of him?” What Cary’s answer was is not known; but it is certain that, when the post was declared vacant, the gentleman went to the Archbishop of Canterbury on the 24th of June, 1837, and again solicited the appointment, which, as might have been expected, was withheld. Panizzi, having heard of it directly from Gary, asked, in the presence of Mr. Baber, whether he would object to his applying for it, when he answered, “Not at all.” There and then Panizzi sat down and wrote this letter to the Archbishop:—

“My Lord Archbishop,

Since I had the honour of addressing your Grace, Mr. Baber has resigned the Keepership of the Printed Books in this establishment. I hope your Grace will not deem it presumptuous in me, to beg respectfully of your Grace and the other Principal Trustees to take my case into consideration, should they think it requisite to depart from the usual system of regular promotion, on appointing his successor. I venture to say this much, having been informed by Mr. Cary of the conversation he has had the honour to have the morning before last with your Grace, and beg to subscribe myself with the greatest respect, &c., &c.

A. Panizzi.”

No sooner was the promotion made known than the controversy began. It was a piece of favouritism, to a Foreigner, and an injustice to Mr. Cary.

As to the first point, Panizzi was at the time personally unknown to the Principal Trustees. Of this there was sufficient evidence.

There was ample precedent for the appointment of a Foreigner, and, if so, objections could not be made, especially to a naturalized Foreigner, and there was plenty of time for a better qualified person to come forward, as quite four months elapsed between Mr. Baber’s announced resignation and the appointment of a successor. If there was a semblance of injustice, it was because the claims of an individual had been postponed to the necessities of the Institution.

Mr. Cary then thought fit to write the following letter to the Lord Chancellor Cottenham, which was published in the “Times” of July 18th, 1837.

“The following letter has been sent to the Lord Chancellor by the Rev. H. F. Cary, the Translator of Dante, who seems to have been treated with extraordinary injustice:—

‘British Museum, July 17,

‘My Lord,

I cannot suffer the communication yesterday made to me by our Secretary, of your having passed me by in the nomination to the vacant office of Librarian, and appointed a subordinate Officer over my head, to reach me without an immediate remonstrance against this disposal of your patronage. I have for the course of eleven years been constant in the discharge of irksome duties in this establishment; and at a moment when I was told to expect the reward never yet denied in this place to such claims, I find it snatched from me by yourself and the Speaker of the House of Commons, in the face of a recommendationrecommendation from the other Principal Trustee, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the only one of the three who has been in the habit of attending here, and making himself acquainted with our proceedings. My repeated requests for a personal interview with your Lordship were met by refusal, and a desire to communicate whatever I had to say by letter. Three letters which I addressed to you were met by silence. In the last of these letters I endeavoured to answer the objections which the Archbishop with his usual humanity and consideration for the humblest of those who have any claim on his attention, had apprised me of, as existing on the part of the other Trustees. The objections were my age and the general state of my health. My age, between 64 and 65 years, it was plain, might rather ask for me that alleviation of labour which, in this as in many other public offices is gained by promotion to a superior place, than call for a continuance of the same laborious employment. My health for the last four years has been such as to allow me, with the interval of one fortnight only, to attend closely through every day to the business of my department. Before that time (and it was the only other instance of ill-health since I have been here) I had a severe illness, occasioned by domestic affliction, on account of which I was permitted to pass six months on the Continent, and even that time was not wholly lost to the Museum, as I availed myself of the opportunity to inquire into the state and management of the public Libraries in most of the principal cities in Italy, where chiefly my time was spent. Lest however, I should deceive myself as to the present state of my health, I thought it right to consult three medical men who best know the ailments I have been subject to. Their opinions I immediately laid before the Archbishop, and copies of them before yourself and the Speaker. They were unanimous as to my fitness in point of health for the place I solicited. On their testimonies and on his own previous knowledge of my character and services, the Archbishop was pleased to declare his determination to appoint me, with the understanding that if at any future time infirmity should render me unfit for my trust, I should resign.

You, my Lord, and the Speaker, have refused to concur in the appointment, and have placed my subordinate officer, Mr. Panizzi, a Foreigner, who has been here some years less than myself, over me, and at the head of our national library.

Being convinced that when the nomination to offices in the British Museum was intrusted by the country to men themselves holding high offices in the State, it was on the implied condition that they would either acquit themselves of their duty by an attention to its internal management, or abstain from active interference if they were conscious of having given no such attention. I feel that I owe it not merely to myself, but to my fellow-countrymen, to protest against your present decision, to call publicly for an inquiry into the mode in which my duty in the Museum has been performed, and into the particulars of what I have done, which may be ascertained by means of our monthly reports, and to demand for what reason a person in an inferior station has been preferred to me, in opposition to the only one of the three nominators who regularly inspects the minutes of the establishment, and is at all likely to have an intimate and accurate knowledge of its concerns, and to be capable of forming a just judgment concerning them.

I am, &c.,
H. F. Cary.’”

In justification of Panizzi, Hallam’s opinion of his fitness for the post is given:—

“Wimpole Street, July 6, 1837

My dear Sir,

Henry Hallam

You first mentioned to me, about two months since, the prospect of attaining a higher station in the Museum, in consequence of Mr. Baber’s resignation, and seemed rather desirous of testimonies to your literary and general character. The closer connection I have since had with the Museum does not, I think, make it improper for me to say what I would then readily have said had it appeared to me as requisite at that time; but you are, of course, perfectly aware that I am only to be considered as a private person, who has had frequent opportunities of seeing you in the Library. In the many conversations on literary subjects we have had together, both there and on other occasions, I have been struck with your extensive and very ready knowledge of books, which has several times been of much service to myself. Your zeal and activity in the Department are so generally acknowledged that no testimony of mine can be of much additional value, and the many private friends you possess, among whom I reckon not a few of my own, bear sufficient witness to the sincerity and integrity of your character.

I am, &c.,
Henry Hallam.”

Panizzi then wrote to the Archbishop:—

“British Museum, July 19, 1837.

“I have just been informed by Mr. Forshall that your Grace has been pleased to concur in my appointment of Under-Librarian, and I must beg your Grace to accept my most sincere and respectful thanks for so much kindness.

Your Grace will allow me to add that it will be the height of my ambition to show myself not unworthy of the honourable trust reposed on me, by a zealous discharge of the arduous duties of my office to the utmost of my humble powers.

I have, &c.,
A. Panizzi.”

A fortnight had scarcely elapsed when a question arose on the subject of an official residence, and this involved a lengthy correspondence between Panizzi, the Secretary (the Rev. J. Forshall), and Sir F. Madden. The latter—who, from the outset, appears to have regarded his colleague in an inimical spirit (and no doubt the feeling was reciprocal)—evinced the greatest eagerness to take possession of a certain one of the lodgings which accompanied the appointments.

Further details would weary the reader; it will, therefore, be only necessary to state that Panizzi was unsuccessful on this occasion in obtaining the house to which, according to his own account, he was entitled.

The following letter, however, is worthy of perusal as a specimen of his persuasive and straightforward argument in the matter:—

“British Museum, July 25th, 1837.

I should not trouble you again with respect to the question now pending before the Trustees, as to the apartments to be assigned to Sir Frederick Madden and myself, did it not seem to me that the point of seniority is the one which will probably influence their determination. I am well aware that the Trustees are not bound to assign the best apartments to the Senior Under-Librarian; but should they be pleased to make seniority the ground of their decision, it is important that they should have clearly before them facts and dates.

Mr. Baber resigned on the 24th of last June, and had his successor been immediately appointed he might have been installed in his office, and have had apartments assigned to him before you had vacated the office to which Sir Frederick has been promoted. The appointment of the successor to Mr. Baber, although made after your place had become vacant, preceded, nevertheless, that of your successor; and it seems to me that, however short the interval between the two nominations, he who was last elected cannot be senior with respect to the other. The circumstance of Sir Frederick having been an officer of this house for a longer period, appears not to affect the case, since the point is as to the seniority of the two Under-Librarians as such. I believe in the army or navy the point would not bear discussion. Mr. Baber had been in this house before Mr. König,and to give Mr. Baber seniority over Mr. König on their both being promoted at the same time, the appointment of the former gentleman was purposely dated earlier than that of the latter, and then no one doubted Mr. Baber’s seniority. It was not thought seniority would be given by the former services of Mr. Baber, or else both appointments might have been dated the same day, when they were actually agreed upon by the Principal Trustees.

Yours, &c., &c., A. Panizzi.

The Rev. Josh. Forshall.


CHAPTER V

Sir Henry Ellis; Parliamentary Committee, 1835-6; Keepership; Removal of the Library from Montague House; Temporary Assistants; Catalogue; Garnett; Winter Jones; Watts; Parry; Additions and Deficiencies 1838; Annual Grant.

Henry Ellis

Allusion has already been made to Sir Henry Ellis, who was, at the time of which we write, Principal Librarian, having held this appointment since the 20th of December, 1827. In the year 1800, Mr. Ellis had entered the service of the British Museum as a Temporary Assistant; and Mr. Edwards, in his work entitled “Lives of the Founders of the British Museum,” observes that “had it never fallen to the lot of Henry Ellis to render to the public any service at all, in the way of administering and improving the National Museum,” he would still have earned an honourable niche in our literary history. His contributions to literature are, indeed, very unequal in their character. Some of them are fragmentary; some might be thought trivial. But very many of them have sterling value.value.

He died at the age of 92, on the 15th of January, 1869, having retired in 1856.

Between Panizzi and Sir Henry Ellis there was no reciprocal feeling of friendship; indeed, at times, the former expressed himself so strongly that we prefer not to reproduce his remarks. The first apparently inimical act was Panizzi’s decided objection to Sir Henry’s Printed Catalogue of the Museum Library; and we learn from a report, drawn up by Ellis, on the 30th April, 1834, and which Panizzi delighted in cutting up, that as soon as he (Ellis) was placed at the head of the Printed Books Department, in 1806, and Mr. Baber advanced to the post of Assistant-Keeper, the preparation of a new Alphabetical Catalogue of the Library was ordered by the Trustees, and the work undertaken by the two Librarians jointly. The former was answerable for the letters A to F, with P, Q, and R, and the latter for the remaining letters. It may be considered a bold statement, yet, this report, instead of containing a correct account of the whole undertaking, was full, from beginning to end, of the most inexact assertions: and these are clearly pointed out by Panizzi, in the shape of marginal notes; he, indeed, seemed most constant in his great delight of finding faults in the Printed Catalogue itself. On one occasion, whilst in search of a book, he came suddenly on an entry of a French translation of one of Jeremy Bentham’s works, in which the author’s name, having been translated in the title-page of the book into French, was transferred in the same form “Bentham (Jérôme)” into the Catalogue. Panizzi’s comment on the entry was: In propria venit, et sui eum non receperunt,” a verse in the first chapter of St. John, from the Vulgate, which he may, probably, have learnt when a boy, acting as a server at mass, under his master the Abbate Fratuzzi; it is equally probable that he knew it in no other form. The sentence is an exact translation from the Greek εἰς τὰ ἴδια ἦλθε καὶ οἱ ἴδιοι αὐτὸν οὐ παρέλαβον

But the English version is not so; “He came unto his own, and his own received him not.” Mr. Major, the present Keeper of Maps, in the British Museum, was at the time sitting in the same room with Panizzi, and seeing him point out the mistake committed by Sir Henry Ellis, in order to court enquiry exclaimed: “How do you account, Sir, for the words “in propria” being used instead of “ad suos” which might have been the version, had the English translation, the only one with which he was then acquainted been correct. Panizzi was amazed at the question, and turning round to his friend, exclaimed, “Goodness, he knows all about it, I had never noticed the difference.” It is, however, a pleasure to reflect that no very serious results accrued from these disputes between the antagonists, and this is to be attributed to the circumstance that both were true gentlemen, in the strict sense of the word, and both men of education.

Whatever differences they may have had, they controlled their feelings, and reined in their animosities, guided by the polished hand of education, which, as was instilled into our minds, in our schoolboy days,

“Emollit mores nee sinit esse feros.”

The whole case affords a fair example of the influence of gentle blood and good breeding, as opposed to that grossness of ignorance, the sure tendency of which is to cause forgetfulness of our better nature, delivering us bound into the power of unbridled passion, and forcing the most trivial disagreements to issue in petty spite and ill-feeling. Conduct unworthy of a gentleman was the last thing that would be found on either side in the case of Panizzi v. Ellis.

It is devoutly to be wished that this would happen on every occasion where two men opposed in views meet; but it has been our lot to see a very different state of affairs, where the disputants were unequally matched on the intrinsic points of education and breeding.

But before dismissing the subject of quarrels (if such a term is applicable to the jealousies and misunderstandings of educated men), we must refer to the strong antagonistic feeling evinced towards him, whom, in very bad taste, his colleague, Sir F. Madden, was wont to dub the “Foreigner;” whilst necessity only compels the production of some evidence of this, and makes us acknowledge our reluctance at laying-such matters before our readers:—

“Sir,—I received yesterday a communication signed “F. Madden,” aping all the forms of a diplomatic note, without any of its courtesy. I forebore noticing the omission, too pointed to be misunderstood, in a former note of yours. I am now driven to notice it, lest my forbearance be mistaken for weakness. If you think you have reason to be displeased with my conduct, I shall be ready to account for it whenever you make up your mind to ask me in a direct and proper manner to do so. This I hope you will not shrink from doing, else it will be evident that, although chary of asking an explanation, and thereby incurring some responsibility, you chose the shelter of official communication to depart safely under it from those forms which I suppose you are aware the usages of society prescribe among gentlemen. Such communications will in future be returned. If, however, you will address me in the manner which I have a right to expect, your communication shall be duly attended to.

Yours, &c., &c.,
A. Panizzi.

Sir F. Madden, &c., &c., &c.”

Many other disagreements—amounting by the animosity evinced, to something worthy of a worse name—we gloss over. Mention must, however, be made of the Rev. Josiah Forshall, Keeper of the MSS., afterwards Secretary, with whom Panizzi more than once came into collision.

Let us now leave this unpleasant topic, and proceed to an account of the Select Committee on the British Museum—more generally known as the Parliamentary Commission of 1835-36—which forms a turning point in the history of our Museum—not so much on account of anything actually effected by it, as from its marking the era when the national character of the Institution, and its mission as an instrument of the national culture, were first clearly recognised and defined. They would, indeed, have been professedly acknowledged at any period of its history; but the circumstances under which the establishment originated, and the manner in which it was managed and supported, had invariably tended to impress upon it a private and exclusive character. By the public it was principally regarded as a show of curiosities, differing from the Zoological Gardens in the same degree as inanimate differ from living things. The literary and scientific world recognised its value for students and amateurs, but had little conception of its function as a great educational agency. It could scarcely have been otherwise. Sir Hans Sloane’s munificent bequest had bestowed upon the public of his day that which it had neither demanded nor required. The measure of its immediate utility may be estimated by the regulation that it should be inspected by parties of not more than fourteen at one time, and always accompanied by an official.

Panizzi’s part in the Committee of 1835-36 was not prominent, though of considerable importance as respected his peculiar Department. The investigation, nevertheless, brought into the clearest relief the three great ideas with which he entered upon his official duties, and which, though acknowledged in principle, he was left almost alone to maintain and enforce, until they eventually became the accepted principles of the Museum, thereby occasioning a total metamorphosis in the spirit of the Institution, while its administrative constitution remained unaltered. These ideas may be thus defined:—

I. The Museum is not a show, but an Institution for the diffusion of culture.

II. It is a Department of the Civil Service, and should be conducted in the spirit of other public Departments.

III. It should be managed with the utmost possible liberality.

It may not be irrelevant if we attempt to show how these points had been understood before Panizzi’s time.

In a Minute dated February 27, 1809, Sir Joseph Banks defined a Museum for exhibition as “a collection framed for the purpose of administering instruction in the form of amusement, and thus endeavouring to awake latent curiosity.” He, therefore, concluded that not only the anatomical paintings in the custody of the Trustees should be transferred to the College of Surgeons, but the Osteological Collection also. He further thought that the specimens preserved in spirits, when not capable of being stuffed, should also be transferred to the same place, more particularly as “the room where they are kept must unavoidably smell strongly of spirits,” and “they are very frequently designated by the opprobrious appellation of hobgoblins.” It was clearly the view of this representative of science upon the Board that the Museum had no business with anything unadapted for public exhibition.

With respect to the second point, it is certainly no reproach to the governing body, or the officers of the Museum, that at the period of its establishment very little work should have been required from the latter. This ensued almost as a matter of necessity from the fact that the Museum was no national foundation, planned with systematic forethought, but a mere lucky windfall. Enough was done if its safe custody was ensured; the extension it was capable of receiving entered into nobody’s mind. The inevitable consequence was that, while the standard of knowledge and accomplishments among officers of the Museum has at all times been high, the standard of official efficiency was in its first days very low. So late as 1837 an honourable and respected officer could, without conscious absurdity, urge as a plea for promotion that he would thereby have less to do.

A conclusive criterion of the primitive conception of an officer’s duty may be found in a Minute of June 21, 1759—the year of the opening of the British Museum:—

“The Committee think proper to add that the requiring the attendance of the officers during the whole six hours that the Museum is kept open is not a wanton or useless piece of severity, as the two vacant hours (if it is not thought too great a burden upon the officers) might very usefully be employed by them in better ranging the several collections, especially in the Department of Manuscripts, and preparing Catalogues for publication, which last the Committee think so necessary a work that till it is performed the several collections can be but imperfectly useful to the public.”

In point of fact, these “Librarians” were ciceroni.” In 1802, after forty-three years, three attendants were appointed to relieve the “Under and Assistant Librarians from the daily duty of showing the Museum,” and their salaries were advanced. But it does not appear, says the report of 1807, “that the Under or Assistant-Librarians received any particular injunctions to execute the several duties proposed for them, nor does it appear by their subsequent conduct that they understood themselves to be under any specific obligation to do any specific duties of that description.” “So that,” continues the report, “the public has been, and is, at an annual expense of above £2,000 a year for the mere purpose of showing the house to strangers, and providing an attendant upon the Reading Room.” This discovery led to considerable reform; the Trustees, very naturally, “feeling strong apprehensions that the munificence of Parliament should be checked, if it should think fit to inquire into the nature and extent of the duties now executed by the officers of the Museum.”

Matters were much improved by 1835; but the organisation of the Institution still bore evident traces of its origin in private liberality, and of the misconceptions which had so long prevailed as to its functions.

It was the constant endeavour of Panizzi to divest it of everything indicating affinity with private institutions, and to impress it more and more with the unique character of a national emporium of the world’s treasures.

The third point which generally characterised Panizzi’s administration was one to which the attention of the Committee of 1835-36 was vigorously directed, and in reference to which it was of considerable service. The regulations for the admission of the public were illiberal. Visitors were excluded at the very times when they had most leisure to attend; but when, as Sir Henry Ellis remarked, “the most mischievous part of the population was abroad,” and in holiday weeks the Museum should be closed, “because the place otherwise would really become unwholesome.” The Committee, however, came to a different conclusion, and admitting that reforms were necessary, decided that the Museum was to cease to be a private establishment. But the immediate cause of the Commission in question was the unreasonable complaint of a discharged servant, a Mr. John Millard, employed for some time as supernumerary in the Department of MSS., who had lost his situation through inefficiency. He possessed, it was said, some influence with Lord Brougham, and Mr., afterwards Sir Benjamin Hawes, M.P. for Lambeth, was induced to take up his case, and obtain its investigation under cover of a general inquiry into the administration of the Museum. The Committee, as at first appointed, March 27, 1835, was inconveniently numerous, and when re-appointed in the following session its numbers were considerably curtailed. Mr. Hawes, a man of no great refinement, but of thorough business capacity, and an excellent specimen of the not unfrequent type of popular M.P., who begins as a patriot and ends as a placeman, represented the reforming element, together with Dr. Bowring and some other members of a similar stamp, who mostly disappeared after the first session. Lord Stanley (the late Lord Derby) and Sir Robert Inglis represented the interests of the Trustees. Sir Philip Egerton, Mr. Ridley Colbome, and Mr. Bingham Baring were also amongst the most prominent members, Mr. Sotheron Estcourt being chairman.

The administrative organisation of the Museum at the time was certainly better calculated to invite inquiry than to sustain it. The offices of the Principal Librarian and Secretary, instead of being united, as at present—and of which more hereafter—were divided, with very mischievous consequences as regarded the authority of the former officer, and attended by all the evils of divided responsibility. Sir H. Ellis was an excellent antiquary and a most kind-hearted man, but could never, under any circumstances, have been more than the nominal head of the Museum.

The Secretary was, as has already been remarked, the Rev. Josiah Forshall, and the government of the Museum was in his hands. By a most preposterous regulation, while the inferior officer, the Secretary, always attended the meetings of the Trustees, the Principal Librarian was never present unless summoned. Mr. Forshall enjoyed the fullest confidence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, in whose hands, by a tacit understanding which had become traditional, almost all administrative arrangements were left by the Principal Trustees. He was entirely opposed to all innovation tending to impart a more popular character to the Institution; and was, in fine, as thoroughly the representative of the principles on which the Museum had hitherto been administered as Panizzi was of those destined to supersede them.

Mr. Millard, the trivial cause of the Committee’s great effect, did not occupy much of its attention. It appeared that he had been removed for two causes, either of which was in itself sufficient to justify the act: he was incompetent, and his services had been dispensed with. The inferior work on which he had been engaged was discontinued; he was fit for nothing else. He had been treated with great and, indeed, with immoderate indulgence, having been allowed to remain two years after his virtual dismissal, in order “to give him an opportunity of finding another situation.” His case, it appeared, had kept the amiable Principal Librarian awake all night; the Keeper of MSS. himself, strangely enough, had given him a testimonial to the Windham Club. His patron endeavoured to prove his efficiency; but on July 2nd Sir Frederick Madden, then Assistant-Keeper of the MSS. came down “with some instances of Mr. Millard’s mistakes, and some questions which I should like to put him.” For some sufficient reason the instances were not adduced, the questions were not put, and no more was heard of Mr. Millard. He had, however, made an outlet for the long accumulating dissatisfaction with the Museum management, and the Committee found themselves arbiters in contentions affecting every Department in the Institution. They had to digest Mr. Forshall’s opinion that “men professionally engaged in literary and scientific pursuits” were unfit for the office of Trustee; and to reconcile Sir Henry Ellis’s statement that literary and scientific men looked up to a Trusteeship as the blue ribbon of their calling, with his admission that not one of them had ever obtained it. They had to enquire whether Sir Henry had made an adequate examination of the Baron de Joursanvault’s manuscripts, magnanimously offered by that nobleman to the English nation for 100,000 francs and permission to import 500 pipes of Beaune wine duty free. If he had not done so, was it because the collection was shelved so high that Sir Henry could not get at it without a ladder, and was it really a fact that no ladder could be found in the whole town of Pomard? Was it true, as asserted by the Edinburgh Review, that cases of birds had been transferred to the College of Surgeons and subsequently repurchased by the Museum? Or was Sir Henry Ellis’s conjecture admissible that certain green glass bottles, of which the transfer was acknowledged, might have been large enough and dirty enough to have been mistaken by the person who wrote that review “for packing cases?” How much of the Saurian collection bought from Mr. T. Hawkins was plaster? Was the Keeper of Geology justified in affirming that “the principal ichthyosaurus could not be exhibited without derogation from the character of the British Museum,” and that if it were treated as it deserved “the whole tail would disappear?”

Had the College of Surgeons been obliged to spend £1,000 on Zoological Literature, in consequence of the deficiencies of the British Museum Library?

It was admitted that the Museum possessed a fine collection of “Megatherium, Chalicotherium, Anthrocotherium, Anoplotherium, and Sus diluvianus” in plaster; but did it possess genuine fragments of any of these extinct quadrupeds? To be straightforward, were the “saurian and chelonian reptiles” in a confused and nameless state? Would the “intelligent visitor” have naturally expected to find “the limited space available for exhibition filled with twenty-eight cats placed together? Had the larger mammalia been mostly devoured by insects, with the exception of the llama’s mouth, which had happily withstood their ravages from consisting of plaster of Paris? The brunt of the assault, it will be seen, was borne by the Zoological Department, whose comparatively starved and neglected condition rendered it a convenient basis for attacks upon the general condition of the Museum, the assailing party being well versed in the axiom of fortification—that a fortress is no stronger than its weakest point.

The Printed Book Department, the battle-ground of subsequent years, attracted comparatively little attention at the time. The public had not yet discovered the value, either actual or potential, of such a collection. The ideal of what a National Library should be as yet only existed in Panizzi’s head. The general standard was exceedingly low, nor could this be a matter of surprise, when, as he himself pointed out, the Museum Library, after all, contained 40,000 more volumes than any library in the modern world, previous to the French Revolution.

With all the drawbacks of the Institution, its management was liberality itself, compared to that of even so splendid a library as the one at Vienna, with its accommodation for 45 readers, bringing their own pens and paper.

The acknowledged defects of the Museum Library, in some degree, served to screen its unacknowledged failings, for the Catalogue was so much behind hand that it was difficult to be certain whether any specified volume was to be found there or not. One important accession had been obtained, the English newspapers were now regularly deposited in the Library, and it was to this that the recent increase of readers was principally attributable. A late Trustee, Mr. Henry Banks, had been an incubus on the establishment, “It was extremely difficult to get any assent in his part to any purchase that was of any amount.” Mr. Baber had now more of his own way, yet when asked, “Is there that general consultation and cordial intercourse which is satisfactory to you as head of your Department?” he answered, “Certainly not.” His evidence related, in great measure, to the project for a new Catalogue, which had hitherto attracted but little attention outside the Museum. Mr. Hawes did his utmost to extort an admission that a Classed Catalogue would be desirable; but Mr. Baber, an experienced bibliographer, maintained firmly that such a Catalogue by itself was a delusion. The alphabetical arrangement was the only safe one: an index of subjects, however, might be a valuable appendage to such a Catalogue. It was the one fault of Mr. Baber’s evidence and of Panizzi’s that neither of them said how invaluable. They were probably afraid of countenancing the mischievous agitation for a Classed Catalogue pure and simple, knowing that years had already been wasted over an impracticable plan of their colleague, the Rev. T. H. Horne. Panizzi evidently felt much embarrassed between loyalty to his chief, allegiance to the Trustees, and his own strong sense of the deficiencies of the Library. His evidence, under such circumstances, was a model of tact and discretion. He implied rather than asserted, and his testimony gains greatly in cogency when read in the light of the reforms subsequently effected by himself.

In the question of classed and alphabetical Catalogues, Panizzi supported his chief, and took care to acquaint the Committee, how much the latter, and the Library, had been damaged by the compulsory withdrawal of Mr. Baber’s first plan for a Catalogue in favour of an alternative and inferior scheme. It was not difficult to discover that Panizzi was by no means satisfied with the administration of the Museum as it stood; at the same time he came to the assistance of the Trustees on a subject which had led to much criticism, by pointing out the importance of having men of rank and influence upon the Board, as well as men merely distinguished by literary and scientific eminence. Not his least important contribution to the proceedings of the Committee was the mass of information with respect to foreign Libraries and Educational Institutions, published in the appendices to its report, and mainly collected, directly or indirectly, by himself, either personally or from trustworthy witnesses, during his travels on the continent. These papers embody a vast amount of curious and interesting information from Vienna and Gottingen down to San-Luis Potosi, where se trata de poner una biblioteca, y un museo, pero aun no se verifica.”

The report of the Committee was issued on July 14th, 1836.

It was not an elaborate document, and contained no reasons for its recommendations, most of which were of a sensible and obvious kind. The deficiencies and disarrangements of the Collections were attributed with perfect justice to the inadequacy of the funds and insufficiency of space. It was suggested that those Trustees whose attendance was infrequent and uncertain should receive a hint to retire, and that “for the future” literary and scientific distinction should constitute a ground of election for the Trust.

Many were the reforms adopted, to the great advantage of the Institution. The principal benefit of the Commission, nevertheless, consisted in the distinct recognition for the first time of the national and educational character of the Museum.

These observations must, however, be relinquished, interesting as they are, or we might be wandering on far beyond reasonable limits.

More might be said, and perhaps advantageously, on these seemingly unimportant subjects—yet, oh! how important to prove the steady progress of the Museum, and that in no small degree owing to Panizzi’s energy—but, as already said, we must restrain ourselves; and having subjects of intrinsic interest for the earnest peruser of this book to discuss, our inclination must be foregone.

When Panizzi entered upon his new office as Keeper, he was fully alive to the important duties which devolved upon him, and was well aware of the arduous and extraordinary task which he was called on to perform simultaneously with the ordinary business of the Department; he, therefore, resolved to keep the whole under his own immediate superintendence so far as was compatible with the regulations and wishes of the authorities.

The Trustees having, in 1837, provided means for removing the Library of Printed Books from Montague House to the new building on the north side of the Quadrangle, it was necessary to appoint a separate staff of assistants, and these were known as “temporary assistants.”

The operation of moving this mass of books, begun on the 1st of January, 1838, was successfully performed by efficient subordinates; but the labour and forethought required for the proper re-arrangement of the volumes and the alteration of the press-marks and references in the catalogues were such as can only be fully appreciated by those who have had some experience in similar undertakings.

At this time the collection consisted of about 160,000 volumes, exclusive of the Royal Library. On Panizzi was thrown, in addition to his other duties, the responsibility of suggesting, examining, and criticising every single article of furniture, fittings, &c., which the Library itself and the Reading Room required. The style of these, as well as the contrivances then adopted in the Department of Printed Books, were subsequently, so far as possible, copied in other Departments of the Museum, having been found equally economical and useful. The Trustees, under these circumstances, offered to find a person who should undertake the superintendence of the Catalogue—an outlay which, however, they were not called on to incur, Panizzi having twice declined the proffered assistance. The opinion of the Trustees and that of Panizzi, however, in regard to the amount of the work necessarily to be carried out without delay will be best gathered from the two following letters:—