When the actor or the author departs from the boards where his production or his acting has delighted audiences, how acute is the grief of parting with his admirers! Who does not remember the almost ominous words of the late Charles Dickens, when, at the last of his readings, he made use of the remarkable expression, _From these garish lights I vanish now for evermore, with a heartfelt, grateful, respectful, and affectionate farewell_? These words—though, of course, not exactly applicable to the present case—may be strained so far as to indicate the deep feeling with which a different, but not less successful, contributor to public requirements was severing himself from labours which had been to him pre-eminently a “labour of love,” and may justly be cited as implying the same affectionate remembrance of his fellow-workers and those who appreciated his undoubtedly great abilities. In addition to a faithful recital of facts and an unprejudiced view of the career of the chosen subject of any memoir, a biographer owes somewhat more to his readers. No life is worth recounting unless it affords an example worth following, or unless it is acknowledged at the first to have been set forth for some other specific purpose, either as mere matter for history, or as the life of one whose errors were so great that it is thought advisable to reproduce them as a warning to future would-be evil-doers. Nothing appertains to the present biography but an intent to put before the world a man who, under the most adverse circumstances and with the most beneficial intentions, by sheer perseverance and by unflinching energy, attained the object of his heart’s desire—a desire that has redounded to his lasting praise. No words of our own shall be used. Let those of Dean Milman be quoted as our justification for what has been already said of the subject of our memoir. On the 5th of February, 1866, writing from the “Deanery of St. Paul’s,” he used these words:—“As to his (Panizzi’s) public services, his long and most careful connection with the British Museum cannot be more fully or justly appreciated than by yourself” (this letter was addressed to Sir R. I. Murchison), “and I am sure that we should entirely agree on this subject. Above all, the great national gift of the Reading-Room, the envy and admiration of Europe, is, as you well know, almost his entire creation, from the original design to the most minute detail—from the dome to the inkstands and bookshelves.” Those who knew Dean Milman will acknowledge the worth of a testimonial thus given by such a man to the value of Panizzi’s labours.