Wishing you a death such as mine, I conclude without further ceremony, both for the sake of following your example and because such observances are not much affected in this republic.
The soul of A. Panizzi
It must be acknowledged that this was rather a substantial letter to emanate from the world of spirits, and the imaginary separation of the soul from the “sound and sprightly” body should certainly have satisfied his extraordinary creditors and absolved him from the debt.
Panizzi had now settled for the time in Liverpool, where he kept up a constant correspondence with absent friends. The two letters from Santa-Rosa, dated 1823, too clearly prove that he was at this time in a state of great poverty, and that he thought of returning to London, a step, however, strongly opposed by his friend.
The capricious nature of the English climate—it was in the winter that he had arrived at Liverpool—seemed to discourage and depress him, perhaps, more than anything else; whilst the want of the most ordinary comforts of life, even of proper food, told severely upon his health. His income was chiefly derived from giving lessons in the Italian language and literature; some of his pupils lived far away from the town, and he used to start on foot early in the morning, give his lessons and return to Liverpool by eleven o’clock. This was necessary, as other duties required his attendance in the town at that hour; and, when we consider that the journey had frequently to be made through snow and rain, its depressing influence on the spirits of the young Italian, accustomed to the more genial climes of the south, may be readily understood.
His address at this date, December 1823, is not known, but in the January following he lodged at No. 6, King-street, Soho. He continued to extend his acquaintance and was upon friendly terms with the bankers, Mr. Ymes and Mr. Zwilchenbart. At this period, too, he knew Mr. John Ewart, at whose house he met Mr. Francis Haywood, the translator of Kant’s “Critick of Pure Reason.”
From these gentlemen, who, as well as the Rev. William Shepherd, author of the “Life of Poggio Bracciolini,” were among his earliest acquaintances in Liverpool, he received the greatest kindness. With Mr. Haywood he soon became most intimate, and frequent communications passed between them. Indeed, if a day elapsed without a letter from Mr. Haywood, Panizzi wrote, asking “why had he not written.”
Such were the friends, whom even in his early career, when chances of success appeared at a hazy distance, this young man was able to draw towards him, and many more he secured in after life.
The necessity of close attention to his duties, and the attractions of the hospitable society of English friends, never led him to neglect his fellow exiles.
Amongst the latter was a certain Count Linati, whose character and antecedents deserve some short notice at our hands. Claudio Linati was born in the Duchy of Parma, on the 1st of February, 1790. He appears to have been at one time a man of wealth and standing, but had become deeply involved in the political complications of his country. On the 9th of April, 1824, he was tried in his absence for conspiracy against his Government, and sentenced to death in contumaciam by the Supreme Tribunal of Parma. Having succeeded in making his escape, he settled for a time in Spain, and subsequently in France. He was a writer and artist of no mean ability. In a letter to a mutual friend, Panizzi describes Linati, as a man of turbulent spirit, on whom nature had bestowed a robust constitution, proof against all changes of climate; full of energy, though without any decided aim, an adept at all employments, and well versed in literature; a painter and a poet, a writer of plays, too, both comic and tragic, many of which he delighted to read to his friend. The manners and customs of the countries in which he lived were his constant study, though his views of mankind in general partook of his own untutored spirit. Speaking of Spain he says that priestly anarchy predominates in that country, and calls France “quel servilissimo versatile compassionevole popoletto,” stigmatising the nation as “servile pecus” for its submission to tyranny. Linati’s troubles were many, and these it was his constant pleasure to relate to his friend at Liverpool, in long letters which Panizzi often answered by sharp criticisms, perhaps provoked in part by the heavy postage which he had to pay, and to which he did not scruple to call attention. In one especial respect there was great dissimilarity between the Count and Panizzi, for whereas the former for some unknown reason hated England and the English people, the latter early evinced the strongest liking for both.
In December, 1823, he wrote to Linati, minutely describing his position, and concluding his long letter thus:—“In spite of all my sufferings and many troubles occasioned by poverty, I had rather live in England than in Italy.”
Upon this Linati wrote:—“Though your dear and beloved England may in some measure have slackened your chain, I will nevertheless tell you that I still prefer the Duke d’Angoulême, open enemy as he is, to that vile and infamous Sir William A’Court, who has betrayed the rights of hospitality by supporting a Government which, if unable to save itself, ought at least to have saved others. I can make a distinction between the generous people of England, whose hearts beat with noble enthusiasm at the war-cry of the liberal Spaniards, as well as the aspiration for Greek independence and self-government. I am delighted to learn that you are in the way of getting an honest livelihood. A hazardous occupation is that of teaching languages, particularly if you happen to meet with a pretty ‘Brittanna,’ who, whilst she is anxious to learn how to sing in Italian, may seem still more anxious to master the language of Petrarch, and suggest to her teacher that he might assist her in conjugating the verb amare (to love).”
The biographer has at this point to deplore the absence of some of Panizzi’s letters; not only because of the interesting matter which they are sure to have contained, but because curiosity must now remain unsatisfied in regard to the particular impression made on Panizzi’s mind by the suggestion in the last paragraph of Linati’s letter.
As the Count was no longer allowed to reside in France, the police ordered him to quit the country at once; whereupon he emigrated to Brussels, and here he found a letter from his Liverpool friend, enclosing an order for 300 francs. This present, however, he declined with thanks. The wretched state of the Italians, cast into the streets of Paris penniless, after several months of imprisonment, gave Panizzi and Linati work enough to do. The former used his influence with the Philhellenic Society in London, and the latter secured the interest of Lord Byron, of whom he happened to be an intimate friend.
In the summer of the following year it appears that both intended to settle at New York. Panizzi, however, in discussing this project, remarked that his acquaintance, though showing him every mark of kindness, never seemed to lose sight of the fact that he was an Italian; from the Americans, who were “a proud people,” there was a fortiori but scant courtesy to be expected, and but little advancement to be hoped for in their country. Linati’s answer was:—“I do not agree with you in what you say respecting the North Americans, for half the population consists of adventurers, and the system of colonization being so active, there will be no difficulties in becoming a citizen, whereas in England you will remain a ‘foreigner’ for ever.”
However, Linati went to Mexico, and from there again indulged in his abuse of England in these words:—“I cannot understand your