_Lord Vernon’s Dante; Sir G. Cornewall Lewis on Milton and Dante; Chi
era Francesco da Bologna? John Harris._
During 1848, Europe was greatly disturbed by internal commotions,
calculated to unsettle thinking men, and more especially those who took
an active interest in politics. It is a matter for astonishment,
therefore, that Panizzi, whose share in such agitation was by no means
inconsiderable, should have found time and inclination to devote himself
to literary productions. Nevertheless, indulging in the aspirations for
freedom which were then moving nations he yet was able to dedicate much
of his time to literature.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Dante]
Indeed, it is almost incredible how he could, with so much on his brain,
have given himself up to the editing of Dante. Of the great Italian poet
so much might be written that it would be but irrelevant to this
biography to leave the principal mover in it, even temporarily, to
dilate on so exalted a subject. We must, therefore, merely observe that
Panizzi was deeply impressed with the importance of Dante’s poetry,
which excelled all that had preceded it, and was written in the _lingua
vulgare_, only that it might be understood by the people, who delighted
in its inexhaustible treasures. Five centuries have elapsed since the
great Florentine wrote his _Divina Commedia_, which has now become the
property and admiration of the whole civilized world.
The editions of it are very numerous, but it is with the first four we
have now to deal.
The earliest is the _Editio Princeps_, of Foligno, by Numeister, bearing
date 1472. In the same year were also printed one edition at Jesi, by
Federico Veronese, and another at Mantua, by Germanus, Giorgio e Paolo.
That at Naples was edited by Giovanni Francesco del Tuppo, printed by
Reussinger, and appeared three years later.
An idea of the value and importance of the volume edited by Panizzi, at
the expense of Lord Vernon (published by Messrs. T. and W. Boone, and
printed by Charles Whittingham), may be formed by the mere fact that
these first four editions are here united in one, which, to the student,
must prove an invaluable boon, as he is thus enabled to perceive at a
glance the variations in the text.
These editions can only be found altogether at the British Museum,
though separate copies exist in other libraries also.
In the year 1835, Mr. Grenville gave the sum of _£60_ for the copy
printed at Naples, and in 1842 he purchased for _£42. 16s. 0d._ the
Mantua edition, which two copies are now in the British Museum, forming
part of his munificent bequest to the Nation.
From Panizzi’s preface we learn that he gave £90 to Mr. Asher, of
Berlin, for the Jesi Dante, in which six pages were missing. Fac-similes
were made by John Harris, from a copy in the possession of Earl Spencer.
Later on, Mr. Winter Jones, at that time Keeper of the Printed Books,
purchased another incomplete copy, from which he was enabled to replace
four more pages, thus rendering it all but complete.
Two copies of the Foligno Edition are to be found in the same
Library—the most favoured possessor in the world of early editions of
Dante.
Lord Vernon could have no better opportunity of reprinting them in
London. In securing the assistance of Panizzi, whose knowledge and
precision were of the utmost importance, he was most fortunate.
Moreover, the printing of the book in question is highly creditable to
British typography. It is a folio of 800 pages, with a preface by the
Editor, and contains fac-similes of the originals. Lord Vernon, being a
corresponding member, dedicated it to the _Accademia della Crusca_.
The preliminaries for this work, which was published in 1858, were
entered into just ten years before; and a memorandum from Lord Vernon,
dated October 23, 1848, is extant, in which he makes a proposal to
Panizzi that the sum of £50 should be paid to him every six months,
until the completion of the work—the said payment to terminate in four
years—the whole sum amounting in the aggregate to £400.
In this transaction Mr. Pickering was consulted.
Panizzi lost no time, and was evidently eager to begin a task so
congenial to his taste; for barely a week afterwards (to quote his own
words) he wrote to Lord Vernon, “I have set to work without a moment’s
delay, putting aside every other unofficial occupation.”
The question relating to the latter part of the following letter of Lord
Vernon, seems to have arisen from a misunderstanding as to the use of
the word _his_ for _this_; and will be best explained by giving his
Lordship’s letter, in addition to Panizzi’s very characteristic reply:—
“Florence, 21st Nov., 1848.
“My Dear Sir,
I am very happy to find that Mr. Pickering’s proposal has met
with your approval, as it did with mine. As for myself, I can only
congratulate myself at having had the good fortune to secure your
valuable assistance at any price within my means.
[Illustration: Lord Vernon]
Respecting the correction of the press, you are right in supposing
that it was intended to apply not only to the part which more
immediately concerns yourself, but to the whole work. If, however, you
think that the revision of my part of the work will be a great
fatigue, and take up too much of your time, I am willing to omit this
from the conditions above stated. I must, however, in this case, beg
of you to name your own terms, in case it suited you to undertake it,
or else to find some one else in whose capacity and judgment you have
confidence, and who will have some discretion in his demands upon my
purse.
Yours, &c., &c.,
VERNON.”
“B. M., Nov. 30th, 1848.
“My dear Lord,
In thanking you for your kind expressions towards me, I beg to
add that I cannot allow you to incur any expense whatever for
correcting your own edition of the _Inferno_. I consider it part of my
duty, according to the terms of the _memorandum_ of the 23rd of
October, as explained in my lettter to your Lordship on the 31st of
the same month, to correct the press of that Cantica; I am at your
Lordship’s orders, and ready to perform that duty to the best of my
abilities.
I suppose I shall hear from Mr. Pickering when I am wanted in that
respect. With reference to the text of the first four editions, twelve
cantos of the first (Foligno) are prepared for collation with those of
Mantua, Jesi, and Naples.
By midsummer I hope the greater part, if not the whole of the first
part of the poem, will be thus collated and ready for press. The
printing will proceed slowly, as I am to re-collate the whole in type.
Yours, &c., &c.,
A. PANIZZI.”
As early as September, 1849, there was already sufficient material for
going to press; but though Panizzi continually wrote to his Lordship
urging the necessity of beginning to print, a year elapsed without any
communication on the subject, and without any progress with the work.
From a letter in the month of June, 1851, Lord Vernon appears to have
been somewhat discouraged; the booksellers not having taken up the
matter in so spirited a manner as he anticipated, and Panizzi
complaining, not without reason, that the work seems to have come almost
to a stand still, consoled himself by addressing the following letter to
Mr. E. White, his Lordship’s solicitor:—
“British Museum, May 5th, 1852.
“Dear Sir,
It is not for me to suggest to his Lordship any course of
proceeding; as, however, I am not totally indifferent with respect to
the determination he may come to, I hope to be forgiven for saying a
very few words on the subject.
When I undertook to carry out Lord Vernon’s wishes expressed in the
memorandum handed to me by Mr. Pickering, and confirmed by his
Lordship’s subsequent letters, I was not only moved by the pecuniary
remuneration which Lord Vernon was pleased to propose to me, I looked
forward to the time when the work should be published, from which I
expected some credit. I cannot, therefore, feel indifferent to his
Lordship’s determination as to publishing; nor can I receive without
some slight observation the sum which Lord Vernon proposed to me as a
remuneration for a certain work, without fulfilling on my part the
obligations I have incurred. These I am most anxious to perform, but
it is impossible for me to do so if Lord Vernon does not order a
printer to print the manuscript which I have not failed to prepare as
agreed, and in a manner which his Lordship had fully approved of.
I am not less desirous to perform what I have undertaken, than I am of
receiving the remuneration which I was led to expect for it; and it
would be very painful to me if his Lordship merely performed his part
of the agreement without enabling me to perform mine.
Yours, &c., &c.,
A. PANIZZI.”
Much to the editor’s delight, however, work was resumed; and by the
summer of 1854 Mr. Whittingham had already sent in a bill for printing
the _Inferno_.
Such was the beauty of the work that it deeply impressed Lord Vernon’s
sensitive nature, and in the following year he desired that the
_Purgatorio_ should be forthwith proceeded with, but as the first
portion approached completion, his Lordship became anxious as to the
title of the book and its disposal, as the following letter clearly
testifies:—
“Nov. 4, 1856,
Hôtel Westminster,
Rue de la Paix, Paris.
“Dear Mr. Panizzi,
What shall we call the union of four editions in one? I cannot
think of a word. You cannot call it “Tesseraglott,” because it is one
“glotte,” or language, though not quite in one dialect. If I remember
right, there is in Ugo Foscolo’s edition rather a learned disquisition
about the cause of the difference in the texts of the early editions,
viz., the difference in the dialect of the early copyists, &c., &c.,
&c.
I was thinking of dedicating the book to the _Crusca_(of which I am a
most unworthy corresponding member), if you see no objection to it.
What plan would you recommend me to pursue for the publication of this
book, and of my own edition of the “Inferno?” Had I better sell it to
some bookseller for a certain sum, or had I better let the bookseller
sell it on my account, receiving so much percent? Or had I better sell
it by auction, or had I better give it all away?
What bookseller to employ I know not, nor whether to publish it in
England, France, or Italy.
Then as to price (if a price it is to have). What might it be? There
will be 2 vols, folio—viz., one of the text with my _paraphrastic
interpretation_ (I say this because it is not exactly a paraphrase,
inasmuch as no single word of the original is omitted). 2nd. A volume
also in folio of illustrative matters; and 3rd, 1 vol. folio, the
album Dantesco with explanatory notes.
I say folio, but perhaps it is royal 4to., I do not know how this may
be, but they will all be the same size. I shall be very thankful when
it is off my hands.
If I had health I should do the “Purgatorio.” The “Paradiso” is too
philosophical and metaphysical and theological for my poor simple
head. It is a pity, however, that the other two Cantiche should not be
done, as it would add considerably to the value of the book.
There is another way of publication—viz., subscription, but I do not
much like this.
Yours, &c., &c.,
VERNON.”
This letter was followed not long afterwards by another, in which Lord
Vernon entered into details regarding the sale and profits likely to
accrue from it. He was, evidently, still undecided as to the title of
the book, and urged Panizzi to suggest one.
As to the place of publication, his Lordship, with a certain amount of
reason, desired that it should be in London; he very justly observes
that:—“Being done at the expense of an Englishman, printed in England,
on English paper, and from four editions, which are found together only
in the British Museum, moreover, being the homage of an Englishman to
Italy’s greatest poet, to her literature, and to her most celebrated
Academies, it would appear with better grace, as coming from London,
than any Italian city.”
By March, 1858, the book was completed, when Lord Vernon expressed
himself thus: “I hope to hear in a short time that, like the _Great
Leviathan_, it has overcome all stops and hindrances, and been fairly
launched in the stream of literature.”
Some writers—and amongst them the subject of our memoir—have looked upon
Milton as an occasional imitator of Dante. _A propos_ of this theory
(which may best be studied in Professor Masson’s biography of the great
Puritan poet), we propose to give, at some length, a correspondence on
the subject between Panizzi and Sir G. Cornewall Lewis. The letters of
the former are so full of sound thought and such fair specimens of his
literary knowledge that we append them, together with Sir G. C. Lewis’s
reply, for the reader’s edification.
“British Museum,
January 22, 1856.
My dear Sir George,
[Illustration: Sir G. Cornwall Lewis]
I have been looking whether my memory had served me right as to
Milton having occasionally imitated Dante, which I mentioned on
Sunday, when we were speaking of Dante being or not being known in
England before the last century. I have found several passages which I
think bear me out; for instance:—
‘Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda, e passa.’
‘Therefore eternal silence be their doom.’—P. L. 6, 385.
But I don’t quote more, as in his prose works (vol. IV., p. 11, edit.
of 1753) he actually quotes as his authority against Rome Dante’s
lines, c. 19, v. 115—
‘Ahi Costantin, di quanto, mal fu matre,’ and translates them thus:—
‘Ah, Constantine! of how much ill was cause
Not thy conversion, but those rich demains
That the first wealthy Pope receiv’d of thee.’
and then he, moreover, refers to the twentieth Canto of the
_Paradiso_.
It is curious to see, not long after Milton—or, perhaps, at the same
time—Stillingfleet, in his Origines Sacræ (Book 2nd, ch. 9, sec. 19,
and ch. 10, sec. 5) quote Dante as an authority on the truth of
Christianity, but he gives the verses in a Latin translation by F. S.
(I have not looked to see who F. S. was.)
Spenser, too, has imitated Dante, I think. Tradubio, who is turned
into a tree and speaks, of Pier delle Vigne.
‘Uomini fummo, ed or siam fatti sterpi.’
‘But once a man, Tradubio, now a tree.’
Chaucer has often imitated Dante, whom he calls (Wife of Bath’s Tale,
v. 6708, in Tyrwhitt’s edit.) ‘the wise poet of Florence—that highte
Dante,’ of whom he translated immediately after the lines:—
‘Rade volte discende per li rami,’ &c.
‘Full selde up riseth by his branches small,’ &c.;
and in the Monk’s Tale the whole of Ugolino’s Story is translated, and
he ends by referring to
‘The grete poete of Itaille—
That highte Dante ...’ as its author.
And now I end in haste.
Yours, &c., &c.,
A. PANIZZI.”
“Kent House, Jan. 25, 1856.
“Dear Panizzi,
The imitation of Dante in Milton’s verse—‘Therefore eternal
silence be their doom’—seems to me doubtful. The quotation of the
celebrated passage ‘Ahi Costantin’ does not prove that Milton had read
Dante—he might have found this anti-papal citation in some
controversial work.
I have no doubt that scattered references to particular passages and
particular expressions in a writer so sterling, and once too
well-known, can be found at all periods. But is there any evidence
that Milton’s contemporaries read Dante, and understood and admired
him, and were influenced by his poetry in their compositions?
Yours, &c., &c.,
G. C. LEWIS.”
“B. M., Jan. 26, 1856.
“My dear Sir George,
Dante says:—
‘Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa,
Misericordia e Giustizia gli sdegna.
Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda, e passa.’
And Milton:—
‘Cancelled from Heaven and sacred memory,
Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell;
* * * * * *
Therefore eternal silence be their doom.’
—P. L., 6. 380-5.
Take the whole, and it seems to me that the English is in imitation of
the Italian. But great poets, when they imitate, they do so making the
images their own; they don’t _copy_, but they abridge, add, and alter
so as to appear original, and so does Milton. I find that he once
translated one line Dante, at the beginning of the Paradiso, c. 1, v.
12, says:
‘_Sarà ora materia del mio canto_,’
And Milton, P. L., 3. 413:—
‘_Shall_ be the copious _matter of my song_.’
And compare also what he says of the sun in that book (v. 586), with
the very first lines of the Canto of Dante.
In his sonnet to Henry Lawes, Milton says:—
‘Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Casella, whom he woo’d to sing,
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.’
Now this alludes to Purg. c.2, v.106, and ‘the _milder_ shades of
Purgatory’ when compared to those of Hell, seem to show that Milton
had read both.
Add to this that Milton knew Italian thoroughly, that he had passed
some time at Florence, where Dante was never forgotten, and that
Galileo, and still more Dati, were intimate friends of his. Now,
Galileo and Dati were great admirers of Dante, and placed him in the
highest rank of poets.
I cannot, therefore, doubt that Milton was thoroughly conversant with
Dante’s poetry, and admired him. How far he was influenced by his
poetry in his compositions, would require a long critical essay; the
more difficult to draw up satisfactorily, the more is the originality
of a great poet like Milton in appropriating other poet’s ideas.
Believe me, &c.,
A. PANIZZI.”
Whatever may have been the ultimate settlement of this friendly
discussion, Panizzi’s estimate of Sir George’s talents and abilities may
be accurately gathered from the next letter we quote, which asks him to
become a candidate for a vacant Trusteeship of the British Museum.
“British Museum, August 16, 1856.
“My dear Sir George,
The Dean of Westminster is dead: he was one of our Trustees. We
want as his successor an M.P. who will help us when not in office, who
is pretty safe of his seat, and whose pursuits render him fit for the
place. Now, without any ceremony, you are the man we want, and I mean
to do what little I can to bring your name before the electors. There
can be no difficulty, as the Government necessarily get elected whom
they please. I want no answer from you, except if you decidedly
object: in which case I want you only to write the word _no_. I hope,
however, you will accept ‘_la candidature_,’ as the French say. I
think Cureton ought to be elected Dean. He is one of the most eminent
Oriental scholars in the world, as you know—and certainly the most
eminent in England.
Believe me, &c.,
A. PANIZZI.”
“P.S.—I know Lord Clarendon is staying with you. Please show him this:
I am sure he will see that it is done—I mean for you.”
The hopes thus expressed were realized, as, on the 27th of February of
the following year (1857), Sir George C. Lewis was appointed one of the
Trustees of our famous Institution.
And here may be given an extract from a letter of J. A. Carlyle (Thomas
Carlyle’s brother), also on the topic of Dante’s poems, which deserves
recognition, as a proof of the esteem in which Panizzi was universally
held, in especial by Englishmen.
“20th December, 1848.
“I really wish you could find leisure to write something expressly
concerning the times in which Dante lived. You could do it better than
any other person, and it has now become very necessary.”
[Illustration: Francesco Raibolini]
And now, let us proceed to another publication. In the year 1858 Panizzi
issued, for his friends, a charming little work, beautifully printed,
also by Charles Whittingham.
Written in Italian, and dedicated to H.R.H. the Duke d’Aumale, only 250
copies were printed, under the title of _Chi era Francesco da
Bologna?_—proving, so far as the question could be then proved, that the
said Francesco da Bologna was no other than the celebrated painter.
Francesco Raibolini, born about 1450, and commonly called _il Francia_.
The name of _Francia_ he derived from his master, a goldsmith, die, and
niello engraver. According to Vasari and a document discovered by Calvi,
his death took place on the 6th of January, 1517.[N] Francesco Raibolini
was at once, in common with many of his compeers, goldsmith and
type-cutter, as well as a painter, and to his skilful hands, Aldus,
whose name they bear, was indebted for his characters. From Panizzi, we
learn that, “at the end of the short Preface prefixed by Aldus to his
first edition of Virgil (1501), printed in the cursive or secretarial
characters _manum mentientes_, afterwards generally known by the name of
Aldine, are the following three verses:—
IN GRAMMATOGLYPTÆ
LAUDEM.
“Qui graiis dedit Aldus, en latinis
Dat nunc grammata scalpta dædaleis
Francisci manibus Bononiensis,”
(Translation). In praise of the type-engraver. Aldus now gives to the
Latins, as he gave to the Greeks, letters graven by the _dædal_ hands
of Francesco da Bologna.
Besides cutting types, Francesco used them too, for he set up a press at
his native town, Bologna, in 1516, and printed several works, now rare,
as, for instance, “Il Canzoniere” of Petrarch, “L’Arcadia di Sannazaro”
and “Gli Asolani” of Bembo, “Il Corbaccio” and the “Epistolæ ad
Familiares” of Cicero.
-----
Footnote N:
The date as in the document in question is 1517. The old custom of
beginning the ecclesiastical and legal year on the 20th of March was
never established at Bologna.
-----
About 1503, Francesco quarrelled with Aldus, and we find, in a letter
prefixed to the edition of Petrarch, that he bitterly complains of
deriving no honour or profits from the types he had himself cut. It is
notorious that Aldus freely gave out that he was not only the inventor,
but also the cutter; and, therefore, the work by Panizzi, to say nothing
of its beauty, is of great importance, for it does justice to the real
inventor, and this discovery is due to the author of the pamphlet, who,
besides, enlightens us, in clear language, respecting the distinguished
Bolognese:—
“From the beginning of printing up to a time not far distant from our
own, the engravers of punches for types were goldsmiths, die-sinkers,
medallists, niellists,—masters in their art. It will be found in Zani
that Fust and Schœffer were goldsmiths, and so, it is believed, was
Guttenberg; while, in the opinion of the said Zani, it was Giovanni
Dunne, ‘a most excellent goldsmith, who led the way in the formation of
metal types.’ ... Every one knows how distinguished Francia was as a
goldsmith, his first and chief profession, and how frequently he signed
his paintings with the words, ‘Franciscus Francia aurifaber,’ or
‘aurifex,’ as if he gloried in the designation. Vasari says, in the Life
of Francia, that his fine medals stood on a par with those of Caradosso;
but he says never a word of the Furnius conjured up by Gaurico.”
“I had long suspected that this Francesco da Bologna, was no other than
the Bolognese Francesco Raibolini, generally known as ‘Francia.’ Some
years ago, in running through a work of some note in former times, I
found that after mentioning various ancient artists, exactly as Gaurico
does, it went on to speak of the modern ones thus:—‘I find amongst the
ancients one great omission of which the moderns take notice, and that
is with regard to engravers or artists in silver, a kind of work known
as niello. I am acquainted with a man of the highest excellence, and
very famous in his art, his name is Francesco da Bologna, otherwise
Franza; he forms or engraves on a diminutive orb or plate of silver, so
many men and animals, so many mountains, trees, and castles, and in so
many various shapes and positions that it is wonderful to behold or
describe.’”
“And here I might stop,” continues Panizzi, “were it not that the direct
testimony of Leonardi is corroborated irrefragably by a very remarkable
circumstance.... I think I may conclude by answering the question which
I have put to myself, thus:—_Francesco da Bologna was Francesco
Raibolini, called Francia_, the worthy contemporary and compatriot of
Leonardo, Raphael, and Michel Angelo, great as a painter, great as an
engraver, great as a medallist, great as a niellist, without equal as a
type-cutter, a shining ornament of illustrious and learned Bologna.”
Conclusive as Panizzi’s argument appeared to be, there were, of course,
dissentients, and among them was Count Giacomo Manzoni, who, in a
jocular letter to the late librarian of the Laurenziana (Florence) Cav.
Ferrucci, expressed his doubts. Panizzi, in a tone of equal good humour,
confuted the Count, and issued a second edition in 1873, containing his
answer to Count Manzoni’s suggested objections.
The “bijou” work (or as Monsieur Brunet, the celebrated bibliophile
termed it, _un véritable bijou typographique_), once out of the
publisher’s hands, it was circulated amongst Panizzi’s friends, and
translated by Mr. Charles Cannon. The laudatory letters, replete with
thanks, which followed were numerous, but as an example of these, that
from the already mentioned Mons. Brunet must suffice:—
“Paris, 30 Nov., 1858.
“Monsieur,
J’ai bien tardé à vous remercier du charmant opuscule que M.
Mérimée m’a fait l’honneur de me remettre de votre part. C’est
qu’avant de vous écrire je voulais avoir pris connaissance de cette
curieuse dissertation, et que malheureusement, occupé sans relâche
d’un travail _in extremis_, pour ma nouvelle édition, il me reste bien
peu de temps à donner à mes plaisirs. C’en a été un véritable pour moi
de vous lire et d’admirer l’exactitude de vos fac-simile. Vos
conjectures, Monsieur, sur Francesco de Bologna, me paraissent bien
fondées: elles font connaître tout le mérite d’un artiste, que
jusqu’ici, on avait regardé seulement comme un habile graveur de
poinçons à l’usage des imprimeurs.
A l’égard de ces poinçons, permettez moi, Monsieur, de faire ici une
réserve en faveur de l’Alde l’ancien. Cet imprimeur, à ce qu’il
parait, les a achetés de Francesco, il en a fait frapper les matrices
nécessaires pour la fonte des caractères cursifs dont il a fait un si
fréquent usage à partir de 1501. Or, avant de se livrer aux dépenses
considérables où cela devait l’entraîner, il a dû naturellement se
réserver la propriété exclusive des objects acquis par lui, alors s’il
en agit ainsi, il a eu raison de se plaindre de ce que l’artiste eut
livré des caractères semblables à Géronimo Soncino pour son Pétrarque
de 1503, et il était parfaitement dans son droit lorsqu’il sollicitait
et obtenait du Pape un privilège exclusif pour ses nouveaux
caractères.
Je connaissais déjà plusieurs des petites éditions données par
Francesco, en 1516, mais pas le Cicéron, et j’ignorais que cet artiste
n’eut exercé la Typographie, que moins d’une année. J’aurais, j’en
suis certain bien d’autres choses à apprendre de vous, Monsieur, qui
possédez de si grandes connaissances en ce genre, mais, à mon grand
regret, éloigné de vous pour toujours, et occupé de terminer un
travail que mon grand âge m’avertit de limiter, je ne pourrai guère
profiter des secours que vous m’avez si obligemment offerts lorsque
j’ai eu le plaisir de vous voir.
Agréez, &c., &c.,
BRUNET.”
The fac-similes which are placed at the end of the work were executed by
John Harris, _L’incomparabile_ Harris, as Panizzi was in the habit of
styling him. As a fac-similist he stood alone. So correct and so
wonderful were his productions, that Panizzi himself adopted the safe
plan of writing, in pencil, on the margin of them, “This is by J. H.—A.
P.” He eventually lost his sight, and died very poor. Some of the leaves
supplied by him are so perfectly done that, after a few years, he
himself experienced some difficulty in distinguishing his own work from
the original. On one occasion a question arose as to the completeness of
a certain copy of a rare book in the Museum Library; it was brought to
light and carefully examined by Panizzi, Mr. Jones, and Mr. Watts. After
a fruitless search, page by page, a consultation ended in a summons to
Harris himself to point out the leaves that he had supplied. It was only
after a very close examination that the artist was able to detect his
own handiwork. This circumstance induced Panizzi to to initial all such
fac-similes. The reader is recommended to examine a book in the National
Library,—a copy of Magna Charta, as a specimen of his skill.
Mr. Grenville employed Harris largely. On one occasion he supplied a few
missing leaves to a rare book, and after it was shown to connoisseurs,
the venerable gentleman presented him with the book.
So much for Panizzi’s literary abilities and his discernment and success
in this sphere of his many and arduous labours, in which he exhibited
the same powers of mind and application as in all the varied occupations
of his busy life. Enough has, however, been said to show how, amongst
all his other multifarious and unceasing occupations, he found time to
dedicate his mind to literature, and literature of a class to demand the
greatest application and labour of the brain.
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