Count Giuseppe Pecchio was another of those distinguished exiles in whose company Panizzi delighted. Their long correspondence reveals a close intimacy. Pecchio, better known in England as the author of the “Semi-serious Observations of an Italian Exile during his Residence in England,” was also one of the victims of the ill-fated Piedmontese Revolution. England was his first refuge, and, after being engaged in various occupations, amongst others that of Italian teacher at Nottingham, he married an English lady, and, “post tot naufragia tutus,” took up his residence at Brighton.
The book, published at Lugano in 1827, contains amusing sketches of English life from a foreigner’s point of view; and after perusing it one can safely conclude that the Count was indebted for his inferences rather to imagination than to memory—perhaps to the two combined more than to actual facts.
While residing in London Pecchio contemplated the production of a periodical, to which Panizzi was to be the chief contributor, with Messrs. Haywood and Roscoe as his supporters in addition to Silvia Pellico, who was about to be set free on occasion of the marriage of the Archduke Leopold, and whose presence was expected in the metropolis. This formed a strong company for the undertaking, to which the promoters were justified in looking forward with no little hope of success. The attempt to start this periodical, however, proved futile, and not even a number of it ever appeared.
On the 13th November, 1825, Pecchio wrote a letter to Panizzi, for the purpose of introducing a certain Miss E ****, telling him that he ought to appear as a Narcissus to captivate the young lady. Panizzi’s health, however, seemed at this time to fail him, and this he attributed to the severity of the winter season, which, as before stated, invariably affected him in a remarkable decree.
Possibly this may have been one cause of his indisposition. The Count, however, with some acuteness in deciding on symptoms, remarks: “The loss of one’s country is a wound which never heals; it is one of those pains which slowly destroy our own existence without our perceiving it.”
Sufficient space has, however, been allotted to Panizzi’s friends, and it is now time to return to Panizzi himself. His celebrity as a teacher of Italian and lecturer on that language was established at Liverpool. Before dilating upon his peculiar aptitude in this direction we must mention one feature in his character which will pre-eminently raise him in the estimation of all discerning readers. Miss Martin, one of his former pupils, knew him as a political exile in the time of his penury; nevertheless, she well recollects and bears witness to his most high-spirited disinterestedness in pecuniary matters—in fact, his singular disregard of money.
The lectures on the Italian language, at which this lady was present, were delivered by him in the years 1824 and 1825 in English; they had been inaugurated by Mr. Roscoe, and were given at the Royal Institution, Liverpool, where, strange to say, no record of them has been kept.
The following anecdote related by Miss Martin may serve to illustrate the earnestness of his addresses. In reciting some of the lines of the “Gerusalemme Liberata,” where the anxious Crusaders first catch sight of the sacred city of Jerusalem:—
“Ecco apparir Gerusalem si vede,
Ecco additar Gerusalem si scorge;
Ecco da mille voci unitamente
Gerusalemme salutar si sente.—”
his eager eye glanced at the wall at the side of the lecture-room with such realistic animation, and with such power over his hearers, that some of the audience turned to gaze on the vacant space as though the veritable towers and walls of Jerusalem had been thereon depicted.
These lectures were never published. The following extracts, expressive of his personal feelings towards his auditors may, even at this distance of time, be not altogether devoid of interest.
The first quotation is from the first of the lectures, written in the summer of 1824, and the second is from the concluding lecture of the series, delivered three years afterwards.
I.
If I dare to address you in your own language, it is neither because I have a vast confidence in my limited knowledge of it, nor because I am unaware how awkwardly a foreigner is situated on such an occasion. But since you do not honour me with your presence to ascertain how I am acquainted with your language, but to hear what my opinion is with respect to some poems written in my own, it is after all of very little consequence whether my diction be so correct and my pronunciation be pure, if I am but intelligible. Having to speak of a foreign literature, I had still more reason to expect that the audience would liberally overlook my blunders; for the Italian quotations would remind those whose keen sense of the beauties of their own tongue might perchance dispose to pass a vigorous sentence on my English, how difficult it is to speak a foreign language tolerably.
These reasons alone might perhaps have induced me to trust to the liberality of an English public; but even without them, and with far more confidence would I have presented myself before you. Your kindness to me on former occasions, to which I shall only allude as no language at any length could do justice to it, would have been a sufficient encouragement to me. It was in this same place that without any claim to your favour, I met the most flattering reception. The repeated proofs of benevolence which I have received from you warrant me in expecting that you would continue to me the same support. I know you so well that I am as certain that you cannot be unkind, as I am conscious that I cannot be ungrateful.
The Lectures which I purpose delivering will form an appendix to those which you have already heard on Ariosto, on whose poem I shall not lecture this time. I am sensible of the disadvantage of such an omission.
II.
I feel it would be indiscretion were I to trespass any longer upon your time, as I was inclined so to do on this last occasion. I shall therefore conclude, offering you my sincerest thanks for the kindness with which, sometimes even in spite of the enraged elements, you have honoured this course of lectures. I know full well that the subject must have been so agreeable to a choice audience like that by which I have been favoured, so as to be a powerful attraction for them to attend. But I cannot and will not think that I am indebted for your presence to the merits of the poems I lectured upon rather than to your benevolence to me. I have known Liverpool so long and so well, and have had so many occasions of experiencing the hospitality of its inhabitants, that my heart cannot allow me to think that you came to hear me as you would have done a stranger. I am not a stranger in this town to which the noblest of sentiments—gratitude—ties me. I beg you will continue to entertain for me the kind feelings which you have hitherto done, being certain that I am fully sensible of their value, and proud in thinking that you have not found—and I hope you never will find me either unworthy of them, or not appreciating them as fully as they deserve.
It is pleasing to trace in these words the grateful heart of Panizzi, reflecting as they do the warmth of his feelings, and acknowledging the kindness shown him by Liverpool friends at a time when he sadly needed sympathy and support; we now leave him, through such aid, in better worldly circumstances than he had but recently encountered.
CHAPTER III
Foscolo; At Holkham; First Article; Departure from Liverpool; Brougham; Miss Turner; London University; Botta; Lady Dacre; ‘Orlando Innamorato’; W. S. Rose; Keightley; Moore’s Verses; Correspondence with Mr. Grenville; First Appointment.
Panizzi being established in Liverpool in 1826, it may be concluded (and, indeed, in a letter to be presently quoted he admits as much) that he was now earning sufficient to satisfy his immediate wants, and to enable him to enjoy a certain degree of luxury. He resided at 93 Mount Pleasant, an eminence overlooking the town, and celebrated in Roscoe’s