from doing, else it will be evident that, although chary of asking an explanation, and thereby incurring some responsibility, you chose the shelter of official communication to depart safely under it from those forms which I suppose you are aware the usages of society prescribe among gentlemen. Such communications will in future be returned. If, however, you will address me in the manner which I have a right to expect, your communication shall be duly attended to.
Yours, &c., &c.,
A. Panizzi.
Sir F. Madden, &c., &c., &c.”
Many other disagreements—amounting by the animosity evinced, to something worthy of a worse name—we gloss over. Mention must, however, be made of the Rev. Josiah Forshall, Keeper of the MSS., afterwards Secretary, with whom Panizzi more than once came into collision.
Let us now leave this unpleasant topic, and proceed to an account of the Select Committee on the British Museum—more generally known as the Parliamentary Commission of 1835–36—which forms a turning point in the history of our Museum—not so much on account of anything actually effected by it, as from its marking the era when the national character of the Institution, and its mission as an instrument of the national culture, were first clearly recognised and defined. They would, indeed, have been professedly acknowledged at any period of its history; but the circumstances under which the establishment originated, and the manner in which it was managed and supported, had invariably tended to impress upon it a private and exclusive character. By the public it was principally regarded as a show of curiosities, differing from the Zoological Gardens in the same degree as inanimate differ from living things. The literary and scientific world recognised its value for students and amateurs, but had little conception of its function as a great educational agency. It could scarcely have been otherwise. Sir Hans Sloane’s munificent bequest had bestowed upon the public of his day that which it had neither demanded nor required. The measure of its immediate utility may be estimated by the regulation that it should be inspected by parties of not more than fourteen at one time, and always accompanied by an official.
Panizzi’s part in the Committee of 1835–36 was not prominent, though of considerable importance as respected his peculiar Department. The investigation, nevertheless, brought into the clearest relief the three great ideas with which he entered upon his official duties, and which, though acknowledged in principle, he was left almost alone to maintain and enforce, until they eventually became the accepted principles of the Museum, thereby occasioning a total metamorphosis in the spirit of the Institution, while its administrative constitution remained unaltered. These ideas may be thus defined:—
I. The Museum is not a show, but an Institution for the diffusion of culture.
II. It is a Department of the Civil Service, and should be conducted in the spirit of other public Departments.
III. It should be managed with the utmost possible liberality.
It may not be irrelevant if we attempt to show how these points had been understood before Panizzi’s time.
In a Minute dated February 27, 1809, Sir Joseph Banks defined a Museum for exhibition as “a collection framed for the purpose of administering instruction in the form of amusement, and thus endeavouring to awake latent curiosity.” He, therefore, concluded that not only the anatomical paintings in the custody of the Trustees should be transferred to the College of Surgeons, but the Osteological Collection also. He further thought that the specimens preserved in spirits, when not capable of being stuffed, should also be transferred to the same place, more particularly as “the room where they are kept must unavoidably smell strongly of spirits,” and “they are very frequently designated by the opprobrious appellation of hobgoblins.” It was clearly the view of this representative of science upon the Board that the Museum had no business with anything unadapted for public exhibition.
With respect to the second point, it is certainly no reproach to the governing body, or the officers of the Museum, that at the period of its establishment very little work should have been required from the latter. This ensued almost as a matter of necessity from the fact that the Museum was no national foundation, planned with systematic forethought, but a mere lucky windfall. Enough was done if its safe custody was ensured; the extension it was capable of receiving entered into nobody’s mind. The inevitable consequence was that, while the standard of knowledge and accomplishments among officers of the Museum has at all times been high, the standard of official efficiency was in its first days very low. So late as 1837 an honourable and respected officer could, without conscious absurdity, urge as a plea for promotion that he would thereby have less to do.
A conclusive criterion of the primitive conception of an officer’s duty may be found in a Minute of June 21, 1759—the year of the opening of the British Museum:—
“The Committee think proper to add that the requiring the attendance of the officers during the whole six hours that the Museum is kept open is not a wanton or useless piece of severity, as the two vacant hours (if it is not thought too great a burden upon the officers) might very usefully be employed by them in better ranging the several collections, especially in the Department of Manuscripts, and preparing Catalogues for publication, which last the Committee think so necessary a work that till it is performed the several collections can be but imperfectly useful to the public.”
In point of fact, these “Librarians” were “ciceroni.” In 1802, after forty-three years, three attendants were appointed to relieve the “Under and Assistant Librarians from the daily duty of showing the Museum,” and their salaries were advanced. But it does not appear, says the report of 1807, “that the Under or Assistant-Librarians received any particular injunctions to execute the several duties proposed for them, nor does it appear by their subsequent conduct that they understood themselves to be under any specific obligation to do any specific duties of that description.” “So that,” continues the report, “the public has been, and is, at an annual expense of above £2,000 a year for the mere purpose of showing the house to strangers, and providing an attendant upon the Reading Room.” This discovery led to considerable reform; the Trustees, very naturally, “feeling strong apprehensions that the munificence of Parliament should be checked, if it should think fit to inquire into the nature and extent of the duties now executed by the officers of the Museum.”
Matters were much improved by 1835; but the organisation of the Institution still bore evident traces of its origin in private liberality, and of the misconceptions which had so long prevailed as to its functions.
It was the constant endeavour of Panizzi to divest it of everything indicating affinity with private institutions, and to impress it more and more with the unique character of a national emporium of the world’s treasures.
The third point which generally characterised Panizzi’s administration was one to which the attention of the Committee of 1835–36 was vigorously directed, and in reference to which it was of considerable service. The regulations for the admission of the public were illiberal. Visitors were excluded at the very times when they had most leisure to attend; but when, as Sir Henry Ellis remarked, “the most mischievous part of the population was abroad,” and in holiday weeks the Museum should be closed, “because the place otherwise would really become unwholesome.” The Committee, however, came to a different conclusion, and admitting that reforms were necessary, decided that the Museum was to cease to be a private establishment. But the immediate cause of the Commission in question was the unreasonable complaint of a discharged servant, a Mr. John Millard, employed for some time as supernumerary in the Department of MSS., who had lost his situation through inefficiency. He possessed, it was said, some influence with Lord Brougham, and Mr., afterwards Sir Benjamin Hawes, M.P. for Lambeth, was induced to take up his case, and obtain its investigation under cover of a general inquiry into the administration of the Museum. The Committee,
