The body animated by me before I was smitten by the pointless stiletto of Terni, Cavedoni, and crew, and now living at Liverpool, by the grace of God sound and so sprightly that those who see it think that—spite of Modena’s Dukeling—I have not yet forsaken it, has sent me in my abode here a letter of yours, No. 14 of the 26th of March last past, requesting information or reply. Now I, in compliance with the latter solicitation, have to tell you that, mindful of the maxim “mors omnia solvit,” I do not consider that since my departure I have any longer either assets or liabilities in that miserable world of yours; unless you mean to say that, notwithstanding the Holy Alliance, I am still united to that body of mine at Liverpool; which would be a deadly sin ipso facto et jure incurring the penalty of higher excommunication, from which none but a fashionable Jesuit could absolve me, for having had the audacity to suggest a doubt of your most benign petty masterling’s lawful authority to expel me from the world.
Nevertheless, as I and that aforesaid body of mine are always upon such good terms with each other that we might still pass for body and soul conjoined, and as the corporal party through honourable industry can by my direction dispose of a few pounds sterling without inconvenience, I beg you to send to my body at Liverpool—for the post from your diabolical State never comes to disturb my rest here—a detailed account of the expenses and of the food which you tell me ought to be paid for to the extra-crammed treasury of a microscopical Duke who has been so over-weeningly fatuous as to send me to dwell in this beatific place; and if your statement be found correct, I will remit you in discharge thereof a bill of exchange on some Capuchin bank payable at sight when the Greek calends come. Only I warn you to give full particulars of the food, for I have an idea that it was gobbled up by the aforesaid fleshmongers Terni, Cavedoni, and crew; knowing well that my body, seasonably advised by me, spared the Treasury the trouble not only of providing the food to be paid for afterwards, and for which you make a demand now, but also of preparing a lodging generously offered gratis, only rather too late. If I perceive by the item—Bottles—that Terni bravely distinguished himself as a consummate hypocrite in Austrian service ought to do, I will write to him, begging him to pardon me for a letter which I addressed to him, as if I had been on earth, telling him that he acted against me like a hired assassin, and I will excuse him as a “drunken murderer.”
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.”