The intention, however, thus twice, at all events, expressed, was never carried into effect, and an essay which would probably have taken its place with the best of Macaulay’s has been lost to the world.
From what has been said it will seem that the book received due appreciation from some, at least, of those well capable of judging of its value.
This short notice of its reception would be incomplete were all account omitted of a curious but somewhat unpleasant episode in the history of the work in question, to touch upon which it is necessary to anticipate a little the course of events. The fons et origo mali is best told in Panizzi’s own words, which are taken from a letter dated 27th March, 1835, and addressed to the proprietors of The Foreign Quarterly Review:—
“In the last number of The Foreign Quarterly Review (called XXIX., but in fact No. 1 by your editor) (Vol. XV., p. 48), there is a lucubration on Italian Romantic Poetry, in the shape of an article on the Orlando Innamorato and Furioso, edited by me, in which occurs the following passage, intended, I suppose, as a sample of the courteous and gentlemanly style of literary criticism which is to grace this journal under the new régime:—
“The present beautiful edition of these poems has been prepared by a gentleman named Panizzi, one of those Italians who have been obliged to fly their country for their political opinions—a circumstance, by the way, as our readers must be aware, no ways conclusive in proof of the moral dignity of the exiled patriots’ souls. Anytus, we know, was one of the men of the Piræus who delivered Athens from her Thirty Tyrants, and yet Anytus was afterwards one of the accusers of Socrates! To this a case somewhat parallel will presently appear. In his own country Mr. Panizzi was, as we are assured, utterly unknown as a man of letters; here, through the patronage of the ex-Chancellor chiefly, he enjoys the barren honour of being professor of Italian in the University of London, and the substantial situation of one of the Under-Librarians of the British Museum. He is also, we understand, engaged for a handsome remuneration to catalogue the library of the Royal Society—two appointments which gave great offence to those narrow-minded persons who think that charity should begin at home, and that deserving Englishmen of letters, who have families to support, and are able to write out the titles of books as well as a foreigner, might have been found without any very anxious search. Be this as it may, Mr. Panizzi, we believe, performs the duties of his office in a most efficient manner, and he is not ungrateful, but seems perfectly content with his lot, for while his “co-mates and brothers in exile” are sighing after the beautiful country they have lost, not a murmur or a sigh ever escapes him. Mr. Panizzi writes and speaks English with facility, as is proved by the present work, though what motive but vanity could have induced him to employ it in preference to his beautiful mother-language, we are unable to conceive; for, surely, any one who is curious about the original text of the Orlando Innamorato, must feel rather offended than otherwise at being presented with English notes. This dexterity in writing our language has also tempted Mr. Panizzi to become a reviewer: and here it is that his character appears in a most unpleasant light, and he becomes, as we have just hinted, a kind of literary Anytus. In conversation and in writing he is the incessant, and we may add virulent, assailant of the literary reputation of his illustrious compatriot, Rossetti, whose Comment on Dante, that extraordinary monument of erudition and sagacity, he would fain make the world believe to be a tissue of ignorance and absurdity. Nay, should any friend of Mr. Panizzi’s even hint that he is disposed to regard Rossetti’s system as well founded, his own works, if he has published any, will be made to feel the wrath of the learned librarian. But we leave the critic, and turn to the essayist and annotator.’ ”
On these strictures, just as fair as they are to the point, with reference to his character as an author, Panizzi pertinently remarks:—
“Did you choose an editor to start a magazine of calumnies, or to continue a review of works? If the latter was your object, can you say what the above slang has to do with the Italian Romantic Poetry, and my edition of Bojardo and Ariosto? … That I was utterly unknown in Italy as a man of letters, when, scarcely twenty-five years of age, I fled the country, is perfectly true; and, had I continued there, I doubt not that I should have died without ever being known as such; but the question propounded is, whether my edition of Bojardo and Ariosto is good or bad? As the Reviewer says that ‘it has everything to recommend it,’ is it discreditable to me that I should have turned a man of letters, when driven into exile with nothing in the world but my head, which I had the wit to keep on my shoulders, although not without trouble?
‘Indignata malis mens est succumbere: seque
Præstitit invictam viribus usa suis.
* * * * * *
En ego cum patria caream gazisque domoque,
Raptaque sint, adimi quæ potuere mihi;
Ingenio tamen ipse meo comitorque fruorque.
Hostis in hoc potuit juris habere nihil.’ ”[D]
D. Paraphrased:—
Uprising in unconquer’d strength, the soul
Scornfully braves the storms of fate.
* * * * * *
So I, bereft of fortune, house, and home—
Of all that could be torn away,
My talents still retain and can employ:
O’er these no foe has aught of power.
What seems especially to have aroused Panizzi’s anger (and herein may be remarked his sincere affection for the land of his refuge and rest), was that he should be called a “foreigner.” If to be domiciled in England and naturalized by an act of her legislature makes a man an Englishman, then was he an Englishman to all the then necessary intents and purposes. “It is true,” says he, “that I am not ungrateful; I love my adoptive country as much as the one wherein I was born, and being able to gain a very honourable and independent subsistence, by making use of those talents which Providence has been pleased to bestow on me, no wonder that I do not allow murmurs and sighs to escape me.” His alleged disposition towards Rossetti, the foundation for which he declares to have been derived from advantage taken of certain private conversation, grossly misrepresented by his reviewer, he thus vindicates from a charge which he declares to be “utterly false.”
“I dissent from Mr. Rossetti’s views concerning Dante; but I have a high opinion of his talents and acquirements; I respect them too much to be virulent when speaking of his works, which I do not incessantly attack. The contrary assertion made by the reviewer is a wilful and deliberate falsehood, charitably invented and propagated to cause mischief and strife between Mr. Rossetti and myself. I once stated freely my reasons for differing from Mr. Rossetti’s system concerning Dante; but I then said, that I knew him to be a very clever man, and I added that his writings on the subject do much honour to his ingenuity, and his very mistakes indicate a lively imagination.imagination. Is this the language of ‘a virulent assailant’?”
In treating another passage in the article our author displays, as well he may, more of contempt than anger. His reviewer, one Mr. Keightley, drew a comparison between Panizzi’s literary merits and his own—by no means in favour of the former, a practice, though decidedly blameable, not so rare as to call for lengthy notice here. A couple of sonnets translated from Bojardo by this same Mr. Keightley are actually inserted in the review. Examples are to be found, both in early and late history, of an author praising his own works anonymously, and if by means of self-laudation he can smite his enemies secretly his acuteness has been thought all the more deserving of admiration.
To what motive can the savage tone and evident personal rancour of this article be imputed? The office of the critic has for a long time past been discharged fairly enough;