“British Museum, Jan. 11, 1848.

“Dear Mrs. Rutherfurd,

... I have had nothing to do more amusing of late than to see and hear all that has been said and spoken about Hampden. I, a good Roman Catholic and Apostolic man, did not care how much damaged all parties were spiritually; and so I did not mind if Hampden was proved an infidel, or all the Bishops for him, as well as those against him, in the wrong. But at one time I feared for the temporal effects of the quarrel, lest it might give Lord John some trouble. It has ended admirably. A Bishop who confesses that he condemned what he had not read; thirteen Bishops and a Deacon opposed by a Deacon and thirteen heads of houses at Oxford; part of the clergy sending addresses against and part in favour of Dr. Hampden; a Dean who swears he will not vote, and all the way allows his vote to be recorded; a Canon who will not have Dr. Hampden because he was condemned by the very Bishop who retracts three days after his condemnation, and confesses his ignorance whilst he exposes his knavery; yesterday half a Church hissing and the other half cheering, when the sermon of some Apostle or other is declared duly elected; the folly, which I hear will be persisted in to-morrow, of apologizing to the Court of the Queen’s Bench, calling on Lord Denman and others to prevent the Archbishop of Canterbury from exercising a merely spiritual rite—is not this charming? Could any one like me wish for more fun?”

Yours, &c., &c.,

A. Panizzi.”

To continue our ramblings through the correspondence in our hands, we insert a letter showing pretty clearly in what esteem Panizzi was held, not only by Lord and Lady Holland, but by others of the society of their house:—

“B. M., no date (? 1850.)

“My dear Haywood,

... I dined at Holland House on Saturday last, and Watts (the painter) came after dinner. There is at Holland House a famous portrait of Baretti by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Lord and Lady Holland and some of the guests having prepared all this without my knowledge beforehand, surrounded me after dinner, made me look at Baretti’s portrait, and then said that there should be a pendant to it, and that my portrait, taken by Watts,[[P]] should be the thing. It was no use saying more than I did—which was not a little to decline the honour. The thing was a foregone conclusion; and so, before Watts goes to Italy, which he is going to do almost immediately, he is going to paint me. What will Gambardella say when he hears it?

Ever yours,