Still the Government cherished the idea of conferring on him some title of honour; for, on the 27th of June, 1866, Lord Russell informed him that Her Majesty had offered a C.B., as a recognition, though slight, of his services to one of our great public Institutions. With many thanks Panizzi reminded his Lordship of what had taken place several years before, and again declined the proferred distinction. However, in 1869, the Queen conferred on him the distinction of K.C.B. In addition to this he was, in the month of August of the same year, unanimously elected member of Parliament for the place of his birth. This onerous position he, however, found it out of his power to accept.
Here we will pause for a few minutes, as we have now arrived at the beginning, as it were, of the end of this remarkable career. As strength failed, and Panizzi no longer possessed his pristine powers of body, his life became more retired; indeed, from the year 1870 up to the time of his death it may be said that he remained in strict privacy. It is true that his friends, his intimates, continued as of old to visit him, nor did they omit to do so to the last; but his facility for correspondence had failed. The old pain in his hand had increased, until it was only with extreme difficulty that he could use his pen; and, for the last few years, he could do no more than append an almost illegible signature to what was written for him.
During this time his only occupation in the daytime was reading; Dante, Virgil, and Scott’s novels were his chief favourites. In the evening he was glad to see around his table those who still clung to him. Such as had been most in his confidence at the Museum were always welcome, and other old friends occasionally joined them. Then there was the whist party, with a very moderate stake to encourage attention to the game, and the company dispersed with pleasant recollections.
Amongst those who did not forget Panizzi in his latter days was the late Emperor of the French; he paid him several visits, as did other foreign Princes when in London.
Not the least distinguished of the number was King Humbert, then Prince of Savoy, and lastly, his old and constant friend, Mr. Gladstone, who, when in town, never failed to pay his afternoon visit, frequently stopping to dinner, and cheering him with his intellectual conversation.
Nor were his declining days uncheered by sympathisers and comforters of the gentler sex, whose consciences still bear the impress of their good deeds. One only will we mention here—Lady Holland, whose innate gentleness and kindness of heart prompted her to anticipate and administer in many ways to wants and wishes that only a long and intimate acquaintance could have enabled her to understand. Having watched him throughout his arduous journey in life, who could have been better fitted to solace him, and how could she fail to be greatly attached to one whose character she had studied and knew so well?
On the Friday previous to Panizzi’s death, Mr. Gladstone called for the last time. A sudden change for the worse was too marked to escape observation, and from that evening it was certain that the weary traveller was nearing his rest. He lay in a state of perfect composure, and in the afternoon of the next Tuesday, the 8th of April, 1879, his spirit passed from the scene of his long unceasing labours. His body remains for the present under a marble tomb in St. Mary’s Catholic Cemetery at Kensal Green, where it was deposited on Saturday, the 12th of April, 1879, in the presence of many friends and admirers besides the recognized mourners.
So died Sir Anthony Panizzi, mourned for by all who knew him, and by men of genius especially; no one, in discussing his merits or demerits, can ascribe to him a spark of selfishness. The best part of his life had been devoted to one great object; that object he had attained and enjoyed. He had been rewarded by the appreciation of thinking men, and by the comforts that should accompany old age, love, honour, and troops of friends.
His death was the loss of a staunch friend to the biographer, who etched the portrait prefixed to this life, and on presenting Mr. Gladstone with the identical proof which he had before given to Panizzi, received from the eminent Statesman this gratifying note:—
“73, Harley-street, May 10th, 1879.