[Page Head: DEFEAT OF GOVERNMENT IN COMMITTEE.]

On arriving in town I found a note from him, desiring I would see him and hear his defence of himself before I expressed elsewhere the opinion I had given to him. Accordingly I went to Boodle's, where I found him, and he immediately began his case. He said that on his return to town he saw Lord Grey, who said that he wished to know what were the intentions of his party, and how far they were disposed to go, and what concessions they looked for. He replied that Lord Grey must understand that he now stood in a very different position, and that, reunited as he was with the Tories, he must act with them—much, in short, what he had before said to Palmerston. They then discussed the question, and he said that there was one point for which Lord Grey ought to be prepared, and that he knew the Tories were much bent upon proposing the postponement of Schedules A and B. Lord Grey said this would be productive of the greatest embarrassment, that it would be a thing they could not agree to, and he hoped he would do all in his power to prevent it. Wharncliffe said that he would endeavour, but he believed they were very eager about it, and he added that Lord Grey might be sure he would support nothing calculated to interfere with the essential provisions of the Bill. After this his and Harrowby's communications with Ellenborough and his friends continued, and on the Saturday (I think) Lyndhurst told him that the Tories were so irrevocably bent upon this, and that they were so difficult to manage and so disposed to fly off, that it was absolutely necessary to give way to them, and it must be proposed, though he would gladly have waived it, but that was impossible; upon which Harrowby and Wharncliffe gave in and agreed to support it. One of them (Haddington, I think) suggested that Wharncliffe ought to communicate this intention to Lord Grey, to which, however, Lyndhurst objected, said that the Tories were suspicious, had already taken umbrage at the communications between Wharncliffe and Grey, and that it must not be. To this prohibition Wharncliffe fatally submitted, and accordingly not a word was said by anybody till the afternoon of the debate, when just before it began Wharncliffe told the Duke of Richmond, who of course told Lord Grey. Wharncliffe at the same time had some conversation with John Russell and Stanley, who strongly deprecated this intention, but it was too late to arrange or compromise anything then. The debate came on; the proposition was made in a very aggravating speech by Lyndhurst, and on its being carried Lord Grey threw up the Bill and the Government in a passion. It is the more remarkable that they should have taken this course at once, because they certainly had very strong reason to doubt whether the King would consent to a creation of Peers, though they probably thought he might be bullied upon an occasion which they fancied they could turn to great account; but he was stout and would not hear of it.

[Page Head: POSITION OF PARTIES.]

The day after the debate Grey and Brougham went down to Windsor and proposed to the King to make fifty Peers. They took with them a minute of Cabinet signed by all the members except the Duke of Richmond. Palmerston proposed it in Cabinet, and Melbourne made no objection. His Majesty took till the next day to consider, when he accepted their resignations, which was the alternative they gave him. At the levee the same day nothing occurred; the King hardly spoke to the Duke, but he afterwards saw Lyndhurst (having sent for him). I do not know what passed between them, but the Duke of Wellington was soon sent for. The Duke and Lyndhurst endeavoured to prevail on Peel to take the Government upon himself, and the former offered to act in any capacity in which he could be useful, but Peel would not. Some communication also took place between Lyndhurst and Harrowby, but the latter declared at once he would support the new Government, but not take office. When Peel finally declined, the Duke accepted, and yesterday at three o'clock he went to St. James's. The King saw Peel and the Speaker. Nothing is known of the formation of the Cabinet, but the reports were first that Alexander Baring was to be Chancellor of the Exchequer, and since that he has refused on account of his health, and that Lyndhurst is to go to the King's Bench, Tenterden to retire, and the Great Seal to be put in commission.

The first act of the Duke was to advise the King to reject the address of the Birmingham Union, which he did, and said he knew of no such body. All very proper. In the morning I called upon Wood at the Treasury, to explain to him that I had never been cognisant of the late proceedings in the House of Lords, and that I was far from approving the conduct of my old associates. He said he had never believed that I was any party to it, and regretted that I had not been in town, when it was just possible I might have persuaded them of the unworthiness of the course they were taking. He said that I did not know how bad it was, for that Wharncliffe had distinctly said that if such a thing was proposed he should oppose it, and that Palmerston was present when he said so. This Wharncliffe positively denies, and yesterday he went to Palmerston to endeavour to explain, taking with him a minute which he said he had drawn up at the time of all that passed, but which he had never before shown or submitted for correction, and which Palmerston told him was incorrect, inasmuch, as it omitted that engagement. They are at issue as to the fact. The position of the respective parties is curious. The Waverers undertook a task of great difficulty with slender means, and they accomplished it with complete success. All turned out as they expected and desired, but, after having been in confidential communication with both parties, they have contrived mortally to offend both, and to expose themselves to odium from every quarter, and to an universal imputation of insincerity and double-dealing, and this without any other fault than mismanagement and the false position in which they found themselves, without influence or power, between two mighty parties. The Tories, who have exhibited nothing but obstinacy and unreasonableness, and who thwarted the Waverers by every means they could devise, have reaped all the benefit of their efforts, and that without admitting that they were right or thanking them for bringing matters to this pass. They are triumphant, in spite of all they did to prevent their own triumph, and have had all the spiteful pleasure of abuse and obloquy, all the glory of consistency, and the satisfaction of pertinacity, with all the advantages that an opposite line of conduct promised to give them. [Their triumph was of short duration, and nothing so complete as their final discomfiture.]

The King took leave of his Ministers with a great effusion of tenderness, particularly to Richmond, whom he entreated to remain in office; but I take it that he easily consoles himself, and does not care much more for one Minister than another.

The debate in the House of Commons was not so violent as might have been expected, and the Tories were greatly elated with the divisions on Ebrington's motion, because there was a majority less by fifty-six than on a similar motion when the Bill was rejected in October. The circumstances were, however, different, and some would not vote because they disapprove of creating Peers, which this vote would have committed them to approve of. There is so much of wonder, and curiosity, and expectation abroad that there is less of abuse and exasperation than might have been expected, but it will all burst forth. The town is fearfully quiet. What is odd enough is that the King was hissed as he left London the other day, and the Duke cheered as he came out of the Palace. There have been some meetings, with resolutions to support the Bill, to express approbation of the Ministers, and to protest against the payment of taxes, and there will probably be a good deal of bustle and bluster here and elsewhere; but I do not believe in real tumults, particularly when the rabble and the unions know that there is a Government which will not stand such things, and that they will not be able to bandy compliments with the Duke as they did with Althorp and John Russell, not but what much dissatisfaction and much disquietude must prevail. The funds have not fallen, which is a sign that there is no alarm in the City. At this early period of the business it is difficult to form any opinion of what will happen; the present Government in opposition will again be formidable, but I am disposed to think things will go on and right themselves; we shall avoid a creation of Peers, but we must have a Reform Bill of some sort, and perhaps a harmless one after all, and if the elements of disorder can be resolved into tranquillity and order again, we must not quarrel with the means that have been employed, nor the quantum of moral injustice that has been perpetrated.

[Page Head: PEEL REFUSES TO TAKE OFFICE.]

The Tories are very indignant with Peel for not taking office, and if, as it is supposed, he is to support Government and the Bill out of office, and when all is over come in, it is hardly worth while for such a farce to deprive the King and the country of his services in the way that they could be most useful, but he is still smarting under Catholic question reminiscences, while the Duke is more thick-skinned. After he had carried the Catholic question the world was prepared for a good deal of versatility on his part, but it was in mere derision that (after his speech on Reform in 1830) it used to be said that he would very likely be found proposing a Bill of Reform, and here he is coming into office for the express purpose of carrying on this very Bill against which the other day he entered a protest which must stare him in the face through the whole progress of it, or, if not, to bring in another of the same character, and probably nearly of the same dimensions. Pretexts are, however, not wanting, and the necessity of supporting the King is made paramount to every other consideration. The Duke's worshippers (a numerous class) call this the finest action of his life, though it is difficult to perceive in what the grandeur of it consists, or the magnitude of the sacrifice. However, it is fair to wait a little, and hear from his own lips his exposition of the mode in which he intends to deal with this measure, and how he will reconcile what he has hitherto said with what he is now about to do. Talleyrand is of course in a state of great consternation, which will be communicated like an electrical shock to the Powers specially favoured and protected by the late Government—Leopold and Don Pedro, for instance. It will be a difficult thing for the Duke to deal with some of the questions on which he has committed himself pretty considerably while in opposition, both with respect to foreign politics and especially Irish Education.

Monday, May 14th, 1832 {p.297}

Nothing more was known yesterday, but everybody was congregated at the clubs, asking, discussing, and wondering. There was a great meeting at Apsley House, when it was supposed everything was settled. The Household went yesterday to St. James's to resign their sticks and badges; amongst the rest Lord Foley. The King was very civil to him; made him sit down and said, 'Lord Foley, you are a young man.' 'Sir, I am afraid I cannot flatter myself that I have any right to that appellation.' 'Oh, yes; you are a young man—at all events in comparison with me—and you will probably come into office again; but I am an old man, and I am afraid I shall not have the pleasure of seeing you there.' It is supposed that this coup has been preparing for some time. All the Royal Family, bastards and all, have been incessantly at the King, and he has probably had more difficulty in the long run in resisting the constant importunity of his entourage, and of his womankind particularly, than the dictates of his Ministers; and between this gradual but powerful impression, and his real opinion and fears, he was not sorry to seize the first good opportunity of shaking off the Whigs. When Lord Anglesey went to take leave of him at Windsor he was struck with the change in his sentiments, and told Lady Anglesey so, who repeated it to my brother.

It is gratifying to find that those with whom I used to dispute, and who would hear of nothing but rejecting the second reading, now admit that my view was the correct one, and Vesey Fitzgerald, with whom I had more than one discussion, complimented me very handsomely upon the justification of my view of the question which the event had afforded. The High Tories, of course, will never admit that they could have been wrong, and have no other resource but to insist boldly that the King never would have made Peers at all.[5]

[5] [Everyone knows how short-lived were the expectations caused by the temporary resignation of Lord Grey's Government. It will be seen in the following pages how soon the vision passed away; but the foregoing passages are retained precisely because they contain a vivid and faithful picture of the state of opinion at the moment.]

London, May 17th, 1832 {p.298}

[Page Head: WELLINGTON'S EFFORTS TO FORM A MINISTRY.]

The events of the last few days have passed with a rapidity which hardly left time to think upon them—such sudden changes and transitions from rage to triumph on one side, and from foolish exultation to mortification and despair on the other. The first impression was that the Duke of Wellington would succeed in forming a Government, with or without Peel. The first thing he did was to try and prevail upon Peel to be Prime Minister, but he was inexorable. He then turned to Baring,[6] who, after much hesitation, agreed to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. The work went on, but with difficulty, for neither Peel, Goulburn, nor Croker would take office. They then tried the Speaker, who was mightily tempted to become Secretary of State, but still doubting and fearing, and requiring time to make up his mind. At an interview with the Duke and Lyndhurst at Apsley House he declared his sentiments on the existing state of affairs in a speech of three hours, to the unutterable disgust of Lyndhurst, who returned home, flung himself into a chair, and said that 'he could not endure to have anything to do with such a damned tiresome old bitch.' After these three hours of oratory Manners Sutton desired to have till the next morning (Monday) to make up his mind, which he again begged might be extended till the evening. On that evening (Monday) ensued the memorable night in the House of Commons, which everybody agrees was such a scene of violence and excitement as never had been exhibited within those walls. Tavistock told me he had never heard anything at all like it, and to his dying day should not forget it. The House was crammed to suffocation; every violent sentiment and vituperative expression was received with shouts of approbation, yet the violent speakers were listened to with the greatest attention.[7] Tom Duncombe made one of his blustering Radical harangues, full of every sort of impertinence, which was received with immense applause, but which contrasted with an admirable speech, full of dignity, but also of sarcasm and severity, from John Russell—the best he ever made. The conduct of the Duke of Wellington in taking office to carry the Bill, which was not denied, but which his friends feebly attempted to justify, was assailed with the most merciless severity, and (what made the greatest impression) was condemned (though in more measured terms) by moderate men and Tories, such as Inglis and Davies Gilbert. Baring, who spoke four times, at last proposed that there should be a compromise, and that the ex-Ministers should resume their seats and carry the Bill. This extraordinary proposition was drawn from him by the state of the House, and the impossibility he at once saw of forming a new Government, and without any previous concert with the Duke, who, however, entirely approved of what he said. After the debate Baring and Sutton went to Apsley House, and related to the Duke what had taken place, the former saying he would face a thousand devils rather than such a House of Commons. From that moment the whole thing was at an end, and the next morning (Tuesday) the Duke repaired to the King, and told him that he could not form an Administration. This communication, for which the debate of the previous night had prepared everybody, was speedily known, and the joy and triumph of the Whigs were complete.

[6] [Alexander Baring, afterwards Lord Ashburton.]

[7] [The debate arose on a petition of the City of London, praying that the House would refuse supplies until the Reform Bill had become law.]

The King desired the Duke and Lyndhurst (for they went together) to advise him what he should do. They advised him to write to Lord Grey (which he did), informing him that the Duke had given up the commission to form a Government, that he had heard of what had fallen from Mr. Baring in the House of Commons the night before on the subject of a compromise, and that he wished Lord Grey to return and resume the Government upon that principle. Lord Grey sent an answer full of the usual expressions of zeal and respect, but saying that he could give no answer until he had consulted his colleagues. He assembled his Cabinet, and at five o'clock the answer was sent.[8]

[8] [These communications have been published in the 'Correspondence of Earl Grey with William IV.,' vol. ii. pp. 406-411.]

[Page Head: TRIUMPH OF THE WHIGS.]

Yesterday morning Lord Grey saw the King; but up to last night nothing was finally settled, everything turning upon the terms to be exacted, some of the violent of the party desiring they should avail themselves of this opportunity to make Peers, both to show their power and increase their strength; the more moderate, including Lord Grey himself and many of the old Peer-makers, were for sparing the King's feelings and using their victory with moderation, all, however, agreeing that the only condition on which they could return was the certainty of carrying the Reform Bill unaltered, either by a creation of Peers or by the secession of its opponents. Up to the present moment the matter stands thus: the King at the mercy of the Whigs, just as averse as ever to make Peers, the violent wishing to press him, the moderate wishing to spare him, all parties railing at each other, the Tories broken and discomfited, and meditating no further resistance to the Reform Bill. The Duke is to make his expose to-night.

Peel, who has kept himself out of the scrape, is strongly suspected of being anything but sorry for the dilemma into which the Duke has got himself, and they think that he secretly encouraged him to persevere, with promises of present support and future co-operation, with a shrewd anticipation of the fate that awaited him. I am by no means indisposed to give credit to this, for I well remember the wrath of Peel when the Duke's Government was broken up in 1830, and the various instances of secret dislike and want of real cordiality which have peeped from under a decent appearance of union and friendship. Nothing can be more certain than that he is in high spirits in the midst of it all, and talks with great complacency of its being very well as it is, and that the salvation of character is everything; and this from him, who fancies he has saved his own, and addressed to those who have forfeited theirs, is amusing.

The joy of the King at what he thought was to be his deliverance from the Whigs was unbounded. He lost no time in putting the Duke of Wellington in possession of everything that had taken place between him and them upon the subject of Reform, and with regard to the creation of Peers, admitting that he had consented, but saying he had been subjected to every species of persecution. His ignorance, weakness, and levity put him in a miserable light, and prove him to be one of the silliest old gentlemen in his dominions; but I believe he is mad, for yesterday he gave a great dinner to the Jockey Club, at which (notwithstanding his cares) he seemed in excellent spirits; and after dinner he made a number of speeches, so ridiculous and nonsensical, beyond all belief but to those who heard them, rambling from one subject to another, repeating the same thing over and over again, and altogether such a mass of confusion, trash, and imbecility as made one laugh and blush at the same time.

As soon as the Duke had agreed to try and form a Government he applied to the Tories, who nearly all agreed to support him, and were prepared to go to all lengths, even to that of swallowing the whole Bill if necessary; the Duke of Newcastle particularly would do anything. These were the men who were so squeamish that they could not be brought to support amendments even, unless they were permitted to turn the schedules upside-down, straining at gnats out of office and swallowing camels in. It is remarkable that after the sacrifice Wharncliffe made to re-ingratiate himself with the Tories, incurring the detestation and abuse of the Whigs, and their reproach of bad faith, the former have utterly neglected him, taking no notice of him whatever during the whole of their proceedings from the moment of the division, leaving him in ignorance of their plans and intentions, never inviting him to any of their meetings, and although a communication was made by Lyndhurst to Harrowby (they wanted Harrowby to be Prime Minister), the latter was not at liberty to impart it to Wharncliffe. It is not possible to be more deeply mortified than he is at the treatment he has experienced from these allies after having so committed himself. From the account of the King's levity throughout these proceedings, I strongly suspect that (if he lives) he will go mad. While the Duke and Lyndhurst were with him, at one of the most critical moments (I forget now at which) he said, 'I have been thinking that something is wanting with regard to Hanover. Duke, you are now my Minister, and I beg you will think of this; I should like to have a slice of Belgium, which would be a convenient addition to Hanover. Pray remember this,' and then resumed the subject they were upon.

May 19th, 1832 {p.302}

The night before last the Duke made his statement. It was extremely clear, but very bald, and left his case just where it was, as he did not say anything that everybody did not know before. His friends, however, extolled it as a masterpiece of eloquence and a complete vindication of himself. The Tory Lords who spoke after him bedaubed him with praise, and vied with each other in expressions of admiration. These were Carnarvon, Winchelsea, and Haddington. There was not one word from the Duke (nor from the others) indicative of an intention to secede, which was what the Government expected. His speech contained a sort of covert attack upon Peel; in fact, he could not defend himself without attacking Peel, for if the one was in the right in taking office the other must have been in the wrong in refusing to join him. There was nothing, however, which was meant as a reproach, though out of the House the Duke's friends do not conceal their anger that Peel would not embark with him in his desperate enterprise.

Lyndhurst was exceedingly able, highly excited, very eloquent, and contrived to make his case a good one. It was a fine display and very short. Carnarvon and Mansfield were outrageously violent, but both in their way clever, and parts of the speech of the latter were eloquent. Lord Grey was excellent, short, very temperate and judicious, exactly what was requisite and nothing more. Nobody else spoke on his side, except Mulgrave at the end.

[Page Head: THE KING'S LETTER TO THE PEERS.]

The debate, however interesting, left the whole matter in uncertainty; and the next day the old question began again. What was to be done—Peers or no Peers? A Cabinet sat nearly all day, and Lord Grey went once or twice to the King. He, poor man, was at his wits' end, and tried an experiment (not a very constitutional one) of his own by writing to a number of Peers, entreating them to withdraw their opposition to the Bill. These letters were written (I think) before the debate. On Thursday nothing was settled, and at another meeting of the Cabinet a minute was drawn up agreeing to offer again the same advice to the King. Before this was acted upon Richmond, who had been absent, arrived, and he prevailed upon his colleagues to cancel it. In the meantime the Duke of Wellington, Lyndhurst, and other Peers had given the desired assurances to the King, which he communicated to Lord Grey. These were accepted as sufficient securities, and declarations made accordingly in both Houses of Parliament. If the Ministers had again gone to the King with this advice, it is impossible to say how it would have ended, for he had already been obstinate, and might have continued so on this point, and he told Lord Verulam that he thought it would be contrary to his coronation oath to make Peers. Our princes have strange notions of the obligations imposed by their coronation oath.

On Thursday in the House of Commons Peel made his statement, in which, with great civility and many expressions of esteem and admiration of the Duke, he pronounced as bitter a censure of his conduct, while apparently confining himself to the defence of his own, as it was possible to do, and as such it was taken. I have not the least doubt that he did it con amore, and that he is doubly rejoiced to be out of the scrape himself and to leave others in it.

May 31st, 1832 {p.304}

Since I came back from Newmarket there has not been much to write about. A calm has succeeded the storm. Last night Schedules A and B were galloped through the Committee, and they finished the business. On Thursday next the Bill will probably be read a third time. In the House of Lords some dozen Tories and Waverers have continued to keep up a little skirmish, and a good deal of violent language has been bandied about, in which the Whigs, being the winners, have shown the best temper. In society the excitement has ceased, but the bitterness remains. The Tories are, however, so utterly defeated, and the victory of their opponents is so complete, that the latter can afford to be moderate and decorous in their tone and manner; and the former are exceedingly sulky, cockering up each other with much self-gratulation and praise, but aware that in the opinion of the mass of mankind they are covered with odium, ridicule, and disgrace. Peel and the Duke are ostensibly great friends, and the ridiculous farce is still kept up of each admiring what he would not do himself, but what the other did.

June 1st, 1832 {p.305}

[Page Head: FAVOURITES OF LOUIS XVIII.]

Met the Duke of Wellington at dinner yesterday, and afterwards had a long talk with him, not on politics. I never see and converse with him without reproaching myself for the sort of hostility I feel and express towards his political conduct, for there are a simplicity, a gaiety, and natural urbanity and good-humour in him, which are remarkably captivating in so great a man. We talked of Dumont's book and Louis XVIII.'s 'Memoirs.' I said I thought the 'Memoirs' were not genuine. He said he was sure they were, that they bore the strongest internal evidence of being so, particularly in their accuracy as to dates, that he was the best chronologist in the world, and that he knew the day of the week of every event of importance. He once asked the Duke when he was born, and when he told him the day of the month and year, he at once said it was on a Tuesday; that he (the Duke) had remembered that throughout the book the day of the week was always mentioned, and many of the anecdotes he had himself heard the King tell. He then talked of him, and I was surprised to hear him say that Charles X. was a cleverer man, as far as knowledge of the world went, though Louis XVIII. was much better informed—a most curious remark, considering the history and end of each. [Nothing could be more mistaken and untrue than this opinion.] That Louis XVIII. was always governed, and a favourite indispensable to him. At the Congress of Vienna the Duke was deputed to speak to M. de Blacas, his then favourite, and tell him that his unpopularity was so great in France that it was desirable he should not return there. Blacas replied, 'You don't know the King; he must have a favourite, and he had better have me than another. I shall go; he will have another, and you should take pains to put a gentleman in that situation, for he is capable of taking the first person that finds access to him and the opportunity of pleasing him.' He added that he should not wonder if he took Fouche. He did not take Fouche, who was not aware of the part he might have played, but he took De Cazes, who governed him entirely. This continued till the Royal Family determined to get rid of him, and by threatening to make an esclandre and leave the chateau they at last succeeded, and De Cazes was sent as Ambassador to London. Then the King wrote to him constantly, sending him verses and literary scraps. The place remained vacant till accident threw Madame du Cayla in his way.[9] She was the daughter of Talon, who had been concerned in the affair of the Marquis de Favras, and she sent to the King to say she had some papers of her father's relating to that affair, which she should like to give into his own hands. He saw her and was pleased with her. The Royal Family encouraged this new taste, in order to get rid entirely of De Cazes, and even the Duchesse d'Angouleme promoted her success. It was the same thing to him to have a woman as a man, and there was no sexual question in the matter, as what he wanted was merely some one to whom he could tell everything, consult with on all occasions, and with whom he could bandy literary trifles. Madame du Cayla, who was clever, was speedily installed, and he directly gave up De Cazes. He told the Duke that he was brouille with De Cazes, who had behaved very ill to him, but he had nothing specific to allege against him, except that his manner to him was not what it ought to have been. The Ministers paid assiduous court to Madame du Cayla, imparted everything to her, and got her to say what they wanted said to the King; she acted all the part of a mistress, except the essential, of which there never was any question. She got great sums of money from him and very valuable presents.

[9] [This lady has already been noticed in a previous portion of these Memoirs, when she visited England. See vol. i. p. 215 [July 10th, 1829].]

June 18th, 1832 {p.306}

[Page Head: CHARACTER OF WILLIAM IV.]

Breakfasted on Thursday with Rogers, and yesterday at the Athenaeum with Henry Taylor, and met Mr. Charles Austin, a lawyer, clever man, and Radical. The Bills are jogging on and there is a comparative calm. The Whigs swear that the Reformed Parliament will be the most aristocratic we have ever seen, and Ellice told me that they cannot hear of a single improper person likely to be elected for any of the new places. [Their choice did not correspond with this statement of their disposition.] The metropolitan districts want rank and talent. The Government and their people have now found out what a fool the King is, and it is very amusing to hear them on the subject. Formerly, when they thought they had him fast, he was very honest and rather wise; now they find him rather shuffling and exceedingly silly. When Normanby went to take leave of him on going to Jamaica, he pronounced a harangue in favour of the slave trade, of which he has always been a great admirer, and expressed sentiments for which his subjects would tear him to pieces if they heard them. It is one of the great evils of the recent convulsion that the King's imbecility has been exposed to the world, and in his person the regal authority has fallen into contempt; his own personal unpopularity is not of much consequence as long as it does not degrade his office; that of George IV. never did, so little so that he could always as King cancel the bad impressions which he made in his individual capacity, and he frequently did so. Walter Scott is arrived here, dying. A great mortality among great men; Goethe, Perier, Champollion, Cuvier, Scott, Grant, Mackintosh, all died within a few weeks of each other.

June 25th, 1832 {p.307}

At Fern Hill all last week; a great party, nothing but racing and gambling; then to Shepperton, and to town on Saturday. The event of the races was the King's having his head knocked with a stone. It made very little sensation on the spot, for he was not hurt, and the fellow was a miserable-looking ragamuffin. It, however, produced a great burst of loyalty in both Houses, and their Majesties were loudly cheered at Ascot. The Duke of Wellington, who had been the day before mobbed in London, also reaped a little harvest of returning popularity from the assault, and so far the outrages have done rather good than harm.

July 12th, 1832 {p.307}

The suttee case was decided at the Privy Council on Saturday last, and was not uninteresting. The Chancellor, Lord President, Graham, John Russell and Grant, Sir Edward East, the Master of Rolls, Vice-Chancellor, Lord Amherst, and Lord Wellesley were present (the latter not the last day). Lushington was for the appeal, and Home and Starkie against. The former made two very able and ingenious speeches; when the counsel withdrew the Lords gave their opinions seriatim. Leach made a very short and very neat speech, condemning the order[10] of the Governor-General, but admitting the danger of rescinding it, and recommending, therefore, that the execution of it should be suspended. Sir Edward East, in a long, diffusive harangue, likewise condemned the order, but was against suspension; Sir James Graham was against the order, but against suspension; Lord Amherst the same. The rest approved of the order altogether. John Russell gave his opinion very well. The Chancellor was prolix and confused; he hit upon a bit of metaphysics in one of the cases on which he took pleasure in dilating. The result was that the petition was dismissed.

[10] The order was a decree of the Governor-General of India abolishing the practice of suttee, against which certain Hindoos appealed to the King in Council. Another party, however, were in favour of the order, and the Rajah Rammohun Roy is acting in this country as their agent.

I know nothing of politics for some time past. The Reform fever having subsided, people are principally occupied with speculations on the next elections. At present there is every appearance of the return of a House of Commons very favourable to the present Government, but the Tory party keeps together in the House of Lords, and they are animated with vague hopes of being able to turn out the Ministry, more from a spirit of hatred and revenge than from any clear view of the practicability of their carrying on the Government. I conceive, however, that as soon as Parliament is up there will be a creation of Peers. In the House of Commons the Irish Tithe question has been the great subject of interest and discussion. O'Connell and the Irish members debate and adjourn just as they please, and Althorp is obliged to give way to them. When Stanley moved for leave to bring in his Bill, he detailed his plan in a speech of two hours. They thought fit to oppose this, which is quite unusual, and O'Connell did not arrive till after Stanley had sat down. Not having heard his speech he could not answer him, and he therefore moved the adjournment. Upon a former occasion, during the Reform Bill, when the Tories moved an adjournment after many hours' debate, the Government opposed it, and voted on through the night till seven o'clock in the morning; now the Tories were ready to support Government against the Irish members, but they would not treat the Radicals as they did the Tories, and then on a subsequent occasion they submitted to have the debate adjourned.

[Page Head: O'CONNELL'S DREAD OF CHOLERA.]

O'Connell is supposed to be horridly afraid of the cholera. He has dodged about between London and Dublin, as the disease appeared first at one and then the other place, and now that it is everywhere he shirks the House of Commons from fear of the heat and the atmosphere. The cholera is here, and diffuses a certain degree of alarm. Some servants of people well known have died, and that frightens all other servants out of their wits, and they frighten their masters; the death of any one person they are acquainted with terrifies people much more than that of twenty of whom they knew nothing. As long as they read daily returns of a parcel of deaths here and there of A, B, and C they do not mind, but when they hear that Lady such a one's nurse or Sir somebody's footman is dead, they fancy they see the disease actually at their own door.

July 15th, 1832 {p.309}

[Page Head: IRISH TITHES.]

I had a good deal of conversation yesterday with Lord Duncannon and Lord John Russell about Ireland. The debate the night before lasted till four o'clock. O'Connell made a furious speech, and Dawson the other evening another, talking of resistance and of his readiness to join in it. This drew up Peel, who had spoken before, and who, when attacked with cries of 'Spoke!' said, 'Yes, I have spoken, but I will say that no party considerations shall prevent my supporting Government in this measure, and giving them my cordial support.' He was furious with Dawson, and got up in order to throw him over, though he did not address himself to him, or to anything he had said expressly. John Russell spoke out what ought to have been said long ago, that the Church could not stand, but that the present clergyman must be paid. Both he and Duncannon are aware of the false position in which the Government is placed, pretending to legislate with a knowledge that their laws cannot be enforced, and the latter said that, whatever might be done, the Irish would take nothing at the hands of Stanley. It is unfortunate that his attachment to the Church makes him the unfittest man in the country to manage Irish affairs, and he has contrived to make himself so personally unpopular that with the best intentions he could not give satisfaction. Under these circumstances his remaining there is impossible, but what is to be done with him? He is of such importance in the House of Commons that they cannot part with him. I asked John Russell why they did not send Hobhouse to Ireland and make Stanley Secretary of War. He said would he consent to exchange? that he was tired of office, and would be glad to be out. I said I could not suppose in such an emergency that he would allow any personal considerations to influence him, and that he would consent to whatever arrangement would be most beneficial to the Government and conducive to the settlement of Irish affairs. The truth is (as I told him) that they are, with respect to Ireland, in the situation of a man who has got an old house in which he can no longer live, not tenable; various architects propose this and that alteration, to build a room here and pull down one there, but at last they find that all these alterations will only serve to make the house habitable a little while longer, that the dry rot is in it, and that they had better begin, as they will be obliged to end, by pulling it down and building up a new one. He owned this was true, but said that here another difficulty presented itself with regard to Stanley—whether he would, as a leading member of the Cabinet, consent to any measures which might go so much further than he would be disposed to do. I said that I could not imagine (whatever might be his predilections) that his mind was not awakened to the necessity of giving way to the state of things, and that he might consent to measures which he felt he was not a fit person to introduce and recommend. He assented to this. He then talked of the views of the Protestants, of the Lefroys, &c., that they began to admit the necessity of a change, but by no means would consent to the alienation of Church property from Protestant uses, that they were willing where there was a large parish consisting entirely of Catholics that the tithes should be taken from the rector of such parish and given to one who had a large Protestant flock—an arrangement which would disgust the Catholics as much as or more than any other, and be considered a perfect mockery. The fact is we may shift and change and wriggle about as much as we will, we may examine and report and make laws, but tithe, the tithe system is at an end. The people will not pay them, and there are no means of compelling them. The march of events is just as certain as that of the seasons. The question which is said to be beset with difficulties is in fact very easy—that is, its difficulties arise from conflicting interests and passions, and not from the uncertainty of its operation and end. Those conflicting passions are certainly very great and very embarrassing, and it is no easy matter to deal with them, but it seems to me that the wisest policy is to keep our eyes steadfastly fixed on the end, and, admitting the inevitable conclusion, labour to bring it about with the smallest amount of individual loss, the greatest general benefit, and the best chance of permanence and stability. By casting lingering looks at the old system, and endeavouring to save something here and there, by allowing the Church to remain in the rags and tatters of its old supremacy, we shall foster those hostile feelings which it is essential to put down for ever, and leave the seeds of grievance and hatred to spring up in a future harvest of agitation and confusion.

July 25th, 1832 {p.311}

Nothing of moment has occurred lately; the dread of cholera absorbs everybody. Mrs. Smith, young and beautiful, was dressed to go to church on Sunday morning, when she was seized with the disorder, never had a chance of rallying, and died at eleven at night. This event, shocking enough in itself from its suddenness and the youth and beauty of the person, has created a terrible alarm; many people have taken flight, and others are suspended between their hopes of safety in country air and their dread of being removed from metropolitan aid. The disease spreads gradually in all directions in town and country, but without appearing like an epidemic; it is scattered and uncertain; it brings to light horrible distress. We, who live on the smooth and plausible surface, know little of the frightful appearance of the bowels of society.

Don Pedro has never been heard of since he landed, and nobody seems much to care whether he or Miguel succeed. The Tories are for the latter and the Whigs for the former. In a fourth debate on the Russian Dutch Loan Ministers got a good finale, a large division, and a brilliant speech from Stanley, totally unprepared and prodigiously successful. Nothing could be worse in point of tactics than renewing this contest, neither party having, in fact, a good case. Parliament is going to separate soon, and the cholera will accelerate the prorogation; not a step has been made towards an approximation between the rival parties, who appear to be animated against each other with unabated virulence. The moderate Tories talk of their desire to see the Government discard their Radical friends, but the great body give them no encouragement to do so by evincing any diminished hostility to them as a party. Opinions are so different as to the probable composition of the next Parliament, that it is difficult to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion about it. The Tories evidently expect that they shall reappear in very formidable strength, though in particular places the Tory party is entirely crushed; the sooner it is so altogether the better, for no good can be expected from it, and it would be far better to erect a Conservative party upon a new and broader basis than to try and bolster up this worn-out, prejudiced, obstinate faction. But the times are difficult and men are wanting; the middle classes are pressing on, and there are men enough there of fortune, energy, activity, zeal, and ambition—no Cannings perhaps or Broughams, but a host of fellows of the calibre of the actors in the old French Constituent Assembly.

July 29th, 1832 {p.312}

[Page Head: QUARREL BETWEEN BROUGHAM AND SUGDEN.]

There has been a great breeze between the Chancellor and Sugden, abusing and retorting upon each other from their respective Houses of Parliament. As all personal matters excite greater interest than any others, so has this. Scott, Lord Eldon's son, died, and his places became vacant. Brougham had recommended their abolition long ago in his evidence before the House of Commons, and both publicly and privately. Some days ago Sugden gave notice to Horne (Solicitor-General) that he meant to put a question to him in the House of Commons as to whether these appointments were to be filled up or not, but before he did so (at four o'clock in the morning) the writ was moved for James Brougham, who had been put by the Chancellor in Scott's place. Accordingly the next day Sugden attacked the appointment in the House of Commons, and though he was by way of only asking a question, he in fact made a long vituperative speech. Nobody was there to reply. Althorp said he knew nothing of the matter, and various speeches were made, all expressive of a desire that the appointment should only be temporary. Horne (it seems) had never told the Chancellor what Sugden said, and Denman, who had no authority from him, did not dare get up and say that it was not to be permanent. Later in the day, having received instructions from the Chancellor, he did get up and say so. The next day Brougham introduced the subject in the House of Lords, and attacked Sugden with all the sarcasm and contumely which he could heap upon him, comparing him to 'a crawling reptile,' &c. Not one of his Tory friends said a word, and, what is curious, the Duke of Wellington praised Brougham for his disinterestedness, and old Eldon defended the place. The following day (Friday) Sugden again brought the matter before the House of Commons, complained bitterly of the Chancellor's speech, was called to order by Stanley, when the Speaker interfered, and, dexterously turning Sugden's attack upon the newspaper report, enabled him to go on. A violent discussion followed, rather awkward for the Chancellor, whose friends endeavoured to soften the thing down by denying the accuracy of the report. After much acrimonious debate the matter ended. Yesterday the 'Times,' throwing over Brougham and Sugden, asserted the accuracy of its own reporter, and declared that whether the Chancellor was right or wrong to have uttered them, the words were spoken by him exactly as they had been reported. Both parties are furious, but on the whole the Chancellor seems at present to have the worst of it, for it is worse for a man in his station to be in the wrong, and more indecent to be scurrilous, than for an individual who is nothing. Sugden now declares he will bring on a motion he has long meditated on the subject of the Court of Chancery, in which he will exhibit to the world the whole conduct of Brougham since he has held the Great Seal, his early haste and precipitation, his recent carelessness and delay, his ignorance, inattention, and incompetence for the office he holds. In this he expects to be supported by Wetherell, Knight, and Pemberton, three of the most eminent Chancery lawyers, while Brougham has nobody but Horne (of the profession) to defend him. If this should occur he may thank himself, for he would put Horne there.

Sir Charles Bagot called on me yesterday; told me that he thought the Belgian question was at last on the point of being settled, that the King of Holland had made 'the great concession,' and that the rest must soon follow, that he had never passed two such years amidst such difficulties, the King so obstinate. His view was that by holding out and maintaining a large army events would produce war, and that he would be able to sell himself to some one of the contending parties, getting back Belgium as the price of his aid, that he now only gave in because not a hope was left, that the difficulties were so great that it was not the fault of this Government that matters were not settled before. I asked him how the Dutch had contrived to make such an exertion. He said it was very creditable to them, but that they were very rich and very frugal, and had lugged out their hoards. They had saddled themselves with a debt the interest of which amounts to about L700,000 a year—a good deal for two millions of people.

August 1st, 1832 {p.314}

[Page Head: BROUGHAM'S RESENTMENT.]

Here is an anecdote exhibiting the character of Brougham, hot, passionate, and precipitate. He is preparing his Bill for the amendment of the Court of Chancery, by which the patronage is to be done away with. Compensation was to be given to the present interests, but upon this recent affair between Sugden and him, to revenge himself upon men who are all or mostly of Sugden's party, he ordered the compensation clauses to be struck out. Sefton (who is a sort of Sancho to him) came up to dinner quite elated at having heard the order given. 'I wish,' said he, 'you had heard a man treated as I did in the Chancellor's room. He came in to ask him about the Bill he was drawing up. "I suppose the compensation clauses are to be put in?" "Compensation?" said Brougham. "No, by God; no compensation. Leave them out, if you please. They chose to attack me, and they shall have enough of it."' And what will be the end of all this—that the Chancellor shows his spite and commits himself, shows that he is influenced in legislation by personal feelings, and incurs the suspicion that because he cannot get a compensation for his brother he is resolved nobody else shall have any? Althorp's speech about the pensions on Monday set at rest the question of compensation, and if these offices are abolished the Chancellor cannot prevent their getting it. In the House of Lords the eternal Russian Dutch Loan came on again. The Duke made a speech and Wynford made a speech, and they were opposed to each other; the Duke hit the right nail on the head, and took that course which he frequently does, and which is such a redeeming quality in his political character—addressed himself to the question itself, to the real merits of it, without making it a mere vehicle for annoying the Government. Aberdeen sneered, but when the Duke throws over his people they can do nothing.

August 8th, 1832 {p.315}

Pedro's expedition, which always has hobbled along, and never exhibited any of that dash which is essential to the success of such efforts, may be considered hopeless; Palmella arrived here a day or two ago, very low, and the Regency scrip has fallen four per cent. Nobody joins them, and it seems pretty clear that, one coquin for another, the Portuguese think they may as well have Miguel. The Dutch affair is not yet settled, but on the point of it; for the fiftieth time a 'little hitch' has again arisen. Last night, in the House of Lords, the Chancellor, in one of his most bungling ways, made what he meant to be a sort of amende to Sugden, making the matter rather worse than it was before, at least for his own credit, for he said that 'he had never intended to give pain, which he of all things abhorred,' and that he had not been at all in a passion—both false, and the latter being in fact his only excuse. I sat next to Melbourne at dinner, who concurred in the judgment of the world on the whole transaction, and said, 'The real truth is, he was in a great rage, for he had forgotten all his own evidence and his own speeches, and he meant to have kept the place.' This evidence from his own colleague and friend is conclusive, and will be a nice morsel for the future biographer of Brougham.

I dined at Holland House yesterday; a good many people, and the Chancellor came in after dinner, looking like an old clothes man and dirty as the ground. We had a true Holland House dinner, two more people arriving (Melbourne and Tom Duncombe) than there was room for, so that Lady Holland had the pleasure of a couple of general squeezes, and of seeing our arms prettily pinioned. Lord Holland sits at table, but does not dine. He proposed to retire (not from the room), but was not allowed, for that would have given us all space and ease. Lord Holland told some stories of Johnson and Garrick which he had heard from Kemble. Johnson loved to bully Garrick, from a recollection of Garrick's former impertinence. When Garrick was in the zenith of his popularity, and grown rich, and lived with the great, and while Johnson was yet obscure, the Doctor used to drink tea with him, and he would say, 'Davy, I do not envy you your money nor your fine acquaintance, but I envy you your power of drinking such tea as this.' 'Yes,' said Garrick, 'it is very good tea, but it is not my best, nor that which I give to my Lord this and Sir somebody t'other.'

Johnson liked Fox because he defended his pension, and said it was only to blame in not being large enough. 'Fox,' he said, 'is a liberal man; he would always be "aut Caesar aut nullus;" whenever I have seen him he has been nullus.' Lord Holland said Fox made it a rule never to talk in Johnson's presence, because he knew all his conversations were recorded for publication, and he did not choose to figure in them.

August 12th, 1832 {p.317}

The House of Commons has finished (or nearly) its business. Althorp ended with a blunder. He brought in a Bill to extend the time for payment of rates and for voters under the new Bill, and because it was opposed he abandoned it suddenly; his friends are disgusted. Robarts told me that the Bank Committee had executed their laborious duties in a spirit of great cordiality, and with a general disposition to lay aside all political differences and concur in accomplishing the best results; a good thing, for it is in such transactions as these, which afford an opportunity for laying aside the bitterness of party and the rancorous feelings which animate men against each other, that the only chance can be found of a future amalgamation of public men. He told me that the evidence all went to prove that little improvement could be made in the management of the Bank.

[Page Head: CHARACTER OF MACAULAY.]

Dined yesterday at Holland House; the Chancellor, Lord Grey, Luttrell, Palmerston, and Macaulay. The Chancellor was sleepy and would not talk; he uttered nothing but yawns and grunts. Macaulay and Allen disputed history, particularly the character of the Emperor Frederick II., and Allen declared himself a Guelph and Macaulay a Ghibelline. Macaulay is a most extraordinary man, and his astonishing knowledge is every moment exhibited, but (as far as I have yet seen of him, which is not sufficient to judge) he is not agreeable. His propositions and his allusions are rather too abrupt; he starts topics not altogether naturally; then he has none of the graces of conversation, none of that exquisite tact and refinement which are the result of a felicitous intuition or a long acquaintance with good society, or more probably a mixture of both. The mighty mass of his knowledge is not animated by that subtle spirit of taste and discretion which alone can give it the qualities of lightness and elasticity, and without which, though he may have the power of instructing and astonishing, he never will attain that of delighting and captivating his hearers. The dinner was agreeable, and enlivened by a squabble between Lady Holland and Allen, at which we were all ready to die of laughing. He jeered at something she said as brutal, and chuckled at his own wit.

Shepperton, August 31st, 1832 {p.318}

I came here last Sunday to see my father, who (my mother wrote me word) had been unwell for a day or two. I got here at four o'clock (having called on Madame de Lieven at Richmond on the way), and when I arrived I found my father at the point of death. He was attacked as he had often been before; medicines afforded him no relief, and nothing would stay on his stomach. On Saturday violent spasms came on, which occasioned him dreadful pain; they continued intermittingly till Sunday afternoon, when as they took him out of bed to put him in a warm bath, he fainted. From this state of insensibility he never recovered, and at half-past twelve o'clock he expired. My brothers were both here. I sent an express for my sister, who was at Malvern, and she arrived on Tuesday morning. Dr. Dowdeswell was in the house, and he stayed on with us and did all that was required. This morning he was buried in the church of this village, close to the house, in the simplest manner, and was followed to the grave by my brothers and brother-in-law, Dowdeswell, Ives, the doctor who attended him, and the servants. He had long been ailing, and at his age (nearly 70 years) this event was not extraordinary, but it was shocking, because so sudden and unexpected, and no idea of danger was entertained by himself or those about him. My father had some faults and many foibles, but he was exposed to great disadvantages in early youth; his education was neglected and his disposition was spoilt. His father was useless, and worse than useless, as a parent, and his mother (a woman of extraordinary capacity and merit) died while he was a young man, having been previously separated from her husband, and having retired from the world.[11] The circumstances of his marriage, and the incidents of his life, would be interesting to none but his own family, and need not be recorded by me. He was a man of a kind, amiable, and liberal disposition, and what is remarkable, as he advanced in years his temper grew less irritable and more indulgent; he was cheerful, hospitable, and unselfish. He had at all times been a lively companion, and without much instruction, extensive information, or a vigorous understanding, his knowledge of the world in the midst of which he had passed his life, his taste and turn for humour, and his good-nature made him a very agreeable man. He had a few intimate friends to whom he was warmly attached, a host of acquaintance, and I do not know that he had a single enemy. He was an affectionate father, and ready to make any sacrifices for the happiness and welfare of his children—in short, he was amiable and blameless in the various relations of life, and he deserved that his memory should be cherished as it is by us with sincere and affectionate regret.

[11] [Mr. Charles Greville, senior, was the fifth son of Fulk Greville of Wilbury, by Frances Macartney, a lady of some literary reputation as the authoress of an 'Ode to Indifference.' She was the daughter of General Macartney. Horace Walpole speaks of her as one of the beauties of his time. She died in 1789. Mr. Greville may have inherited from her his strong literary tastes.]

September 18th, 1832 {p.319}

[Page Head: ANECDOTES OF PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.]

I have been in London, at Shepperton, and twice at Brighton to see Henry de Ros; came back yesterday. The world is half asleep. Lord Howe returns to the Queen as her Chamberlain, and that makes a sensation. I met at Brighton Lady Keith [Madame de Flahaut], who told us a great deal about French politics, which, as she is a partisan, was not worth much, but she also gave us rather an amusing account of the early days of the Princess Charlotte, at the time of her escape from Warwick House in a hackney coach and taking refuge with her mother, and of the earlier affair of Captain Hess. The former escapade arose from her determination to break off her marriage with the Prince of Orange, and that from her falling suddenly in love with Prince Augustus of Prussia, and her resolving to marry him and nobody else, not knowing that he was already married de la main gauche in Prussia. It seems that she speedily made known her sentiments to the Prince, and he (notwithstanding his marriage) followed the thing up, and had two interviews with her at her own house, which were contrived by Miss Knight, her governess. During one of these Miss Mercer arrived, and Miss Knight told her that Prince Augustus was with the Princess in her room, and what a fright she (Miss Knight) was in. Miss Mercer, who evidently had no mind anybody should conduct such an affair for the Princess but herself, pressed Miss Knight to go and interrupt them, which on her declining she did herself. The King (Regent as he was then) somehow heard of these meetings, and measures of coercion were threatened, and it was just when an approaching visit from him had been announced to the Princess that she went off. Miss Mercer was in the house at the time, and the Regent, when he came, found her there. He accused her of being a party to the Princess's flight, but afterwards either did or pretended to believe her denial, and sent her to fetch the Princess back, which after many pourparlers and the intervention of the Dukes of York and Sussex, Brougham, and the Bishop of Salisbury, her preceptor, was accomplished at two in the morning.

Hess's affair was an atrocity of the Princess of Wales. She employed him to convey letters to her daughter while she used to ride in Windsor Park, which he contrived to deliver, and occasionally to converse with her; and on one occasion, at Kensington, the Princess of Wales brought them together in her own room. The Princess afterwards wrote him some letters, not containing much harm, but idle and improper. When the Duke of York's affair with Mrs. Clark came out, and all the correspondence, she became very much alarmed, told Miss Mercer the whole story, and employed her to get back her letters to Hess. She accordingly wrote to Hess (who was then in Spain), but he evinced a disinclination to give them up. On his return to England she saw him, and on his still demurring she threatened to put the affair into the Duke of York's hands, which frightened him, and then he surrendered them, and signed a paper declaring he had given up everything. The King afterwards heard of this affair, and questioning the Princess, she told him everything. He sent for Miss Mercer, and desired to see the letters, and then to keep them. This she refused. This Captain Hess was a short, plump, vulgar-looking man, afterwards lover to the Queen of Naples, mother of the present King, an amour that was carried on under the auspices of the Margravine at her villa in the Strada Nova at Naples. It was, however, detected, and Hess was sent away from Naples, and never allowed to return. I remember finding him at Turin (married), when he was lamenting his hard fate in being excluded from that Paradiso Naples.

September 28th, 1832 {p.321}

[Page Head: BELGIUM, SPAIN, FRANCE.]

At Stoke from the 22nd to the 26th, then to the Grove, and returned yesterday; at the former place Madame de Lieven, Alvanley, Melbourne; tolerably pleasant; question of war again. The Dutch King makes a stir, and threatens to bombard the town of Antwerp; the French offered to march, and put their troops in motion, but Leopold begged they would not, and chose rather to await the effect of more conferences, which began with great vigour a few days ago. What they find to say to each other for eight or ten hours a day for several consecutive days it is hard to guess, as the question is of the simplest kind. The King of Holland will not give up the citadel of Antwerp, nor consent to the free navigation of the Scheldt; the Belgians insist on these concessions; the Conference says they shall be granted, but Russia, Prussia, and Austria will not coerce the Dutchman; England and France will, if the others don't object. A French army is in motion, and a French fleet is off Spithead; so probably something will come of it. Nothing has damaged this Government more than these protracted and abortive conferences.

Four days ago there was a report that the King of Spain was dead, accompanied with a good many particulars, and all the world began speculating as to the succession, but yesterday came news that he was not dead, but better. Pedro and Miguel are fighting at Oporto with some appearance of spirit; Miguel is the favourite. The French Government is represented to be in a wretched state, squabbling and feeble, and nobody is inclined to be Minister. Dupin was very near it, but refused because Louis Philippe would not make him President of the Council. The King is determined to be his own Minister, and can get nobody to take office on these terms. They think it will end in Dupin. The present Government declares it cannot meet the Chambers until Antwerp is evacuated by the Dutch and the Duchesse de Berri departed out of France or taken. This heroine, much to the annoyance of her family, is dodging about in La Vendee and doing rather harm than good to her cause. The Dauphiness passed through London, when our Queen very politely went to visit her. She has not a shadow of doubt of the restoration of her nephew, and thinks nothing questionable but the time. She told Madame de Lieven this. I talked to Madame de Lieven about war, and added that if any did break out it would be the war of opinion which Canning had predicted. She said yes, and that the monarchical principle (as she calls the absolute principle) would then crush the other.

[Page Head: CONVERSATION WITH LORD MELBOURNE.]

I came up with Melbourne to London. He is uneasy about the state of the country—about the desire for change and the general restlessness that prevails. We discussed the different members of the Government, and he agreed that John Russell had acted unwarrantably in making the speech he did the other day at Torquay about the Ballot, which, though hypothetical, was nothing but an invitation to the advocates of Ballot to agitate for it; this, too, from a Cabinet Minister! Then comes an awkward sort of explanation, that what he said was in his individual capacity, as if he had any right so to speak. Melbourne spoke of Brougham, who he said was tossed about in perpetual caprices, that he was fanciful and sensitive, and actuated by all sorts of littlenesses, even with regard to people so insignificant that it is difficult to conceive how he can ever think about them; that he is conservative, but under the influence of his old connexions, particularly of the Saints. His friends are so often changed that it is not easy to follow him in this respect. Durham used to be one; now he hates him; he has a high opinion of Sefton! of his judgment!! What is talent, what are great abilities, when one sees the gigantic intellect of Brougham so at fault? Not only does the world manage to go on when little wisdom guides it, but how ill it may go on with a great deal of talent, which, however, is different from wisdom. He asked me what I thought of Richmond, and I told him that he was ignorant and narrow-minded, but a good sort of fellow, only appearing to me, who had known him all my life, in an odd place as a Cabinet Minister. He said he was sharp, quick, the King liked him, and he stood up to Durham more than any other man in the Cabinet, and that altogether he was not unimportant; so that the ingredients of this Cabinet seem to be put there to neutralise one another, and to be good for nothing else; because Durham has an overbearing temper, and his father-in-law is weak, there must be a man without any other merit than spirit to curb that temper. He talked of Ireland, and the difficulty of settling the question there, that the Archbishop of Canterbury was willing to reform the Church, but not to alienate any of its revenues. 'Not,' I asked, 'for the payment of a Catholic clergy?' 'No, not from Protestant uses.' I told him there was nothing to be done but to pull down the edifice and rebuild it. He said you would have all the Protestants against you, but he did not appear to differ. To this things must come at last. Melbourne is exceedingly anxious to keep Lord Hill and Fitzroy Somerset at the head of the army, from which the violent of his party would gladly oust them, but he evidently contemplates the possibility of having occasion for the army, and does not wish to tamper with the service or play any tricks with it. It is curious to see the working and counterworking of his real opinions and principles with his false position, and the mixture of bluntness, facility and shrewdness, discretion, levity and seriousness, which, colouring his mind and character by turns, make up the strange compound of his thoughts and his actions.



CHAPTER XIX.

Foreign Difficulties—Conduct of Peel on the Resignation of Lord Grey—Manners Sutton proposed as Tory Premier—Coolness between Peel and the Duke—Embargo on Dutch Ships—Death of Lord Tenterden—Denman made Lord Chief Justice—Tableau of Holland House—The Speakership—Horne and Campbell Attorney- and Solicitor-General—The Court at Brighton—Lord Howe and the Queen—Elections under the Reform Act—Mr. Gully—Petworth— Lord Egremont—Attempt to reinstate Lord Howe—Namik Pacha— Lord Lyndhurst's Version of what occurred on the Resignation of Lord Grey—Lord Denbigh appointed Chamberlain to the Queen— Brougham's Privy Council Bill—Talleyrand's Relations with Fox and Pitt—Negro Emancipation Bill—State of the West Indies— The Reformed Parliament meets—Russian Intrigues—Four Days' Debate on the Address—Peel's Political Career.

London, October 7th, 1832 {p.324}

I went to Newmarket on the 30th of September, to Panshanger on the 5th, and came to town on the 6th. Great fears entertained of war; the obstinacy of the Dutch King, the appointment of Soult to be Prime Minister of France, and the ambiguous conduct of the Allied Courts look like war. Miguel has attacked Oporto without success; but, as he nearly destroyed the English and French battalions, he will probably soon get possession of the city. It is clear that all Portugal is for him, which we may be sorry for, but so it is. The iniquity of his cause does not appear to affect it.

October 12th, 1832 {p.324}

Lady Cowper told me at Panshanger that Palmerston said all the difficulties of the Belgian question came from Matuscewitz, who was insolent and obstinate, and astute in making objections; that it was the more provoking as he had been recalled some time ago (the Greek business being settled, for which he came), and Palmerston and some of the others had asked the Emperor to allow him to stay here, on account of his usefulness in drawing up the minutes of the proceedings of the Conference; that Lieven had by no means wished him to stay, but could not object when the others desired it. Accordingly he remained, and now he annoys Palmerston to death. All this she wrote to Madame de Lieven, who replied that it was not the fault of Matuscewitz, and that he and Lieven agreed perfectly. She talked, however, rather more pacific language. This clever, intriguing, agreeable diplomatess has renewed her friendship with the Duke of Wellington, to which he does not object, though she will hardly ever efface the impression her former conduct made upon him. My journal is getting intolerably stupid, and entirely barren of events. I would take to miscellaneous and private matters if any fell in my way, but what can I make out of such animals as I herd with and such occupations as I am engaged in?

Euston, October 26th, 1832 {p.325}

[Page Head: TORY ATTEMPTS TO FORM A MINISTRY.]

Went to Downham on Sunday last; the Duke of Rutland, the Walewskis, Lord Burghersh, and Hope. Came here on Wednesday morning; the usual party. At Downham I picked up a good deal from Arbuthnot (who was very garrulous) of a miscellaneous description, of which the most curious and important was the entire confirmation of (what I before suspected) the ill blood that exists between the Duke of Wellington and Peel; though the interests of party keep them on decent terms, they dislike one another, and the Duke's friends detest Peel still more than the Duke does himself. He told me all that had passed at the time of the blow-up of the present Government, which I have partly recorded from a former conversation with him, and his story certainly proves that the Duke (though I think he committed an enormous error in judgment) was not influenced by any motives of personal ambition.

[Page Head: MANNERS SUTTON PROPOSED AS PREMIER.]

As soon as the King sent for Lyndhurst the latter went to the Duke, who (as is known) agreed to form a Government, never doubting that he was to be himself Prime Minister. Lyndhurst went to Peel, who declined to take office, and he then went to Baring. Lyndhurst and Arbuthnot sent for Baring out of the House of Commons, and took him to old Bankes' house in Palace Yard, where they had their conversation with him. He begged for time to consider of it, and to be allowed to consult Peel, to which they assented. He afterwards agreed, but on condition that Manners Sutton should also be in the Cabinet. Lyndhurst had about the same time made overtures to Manners Sutton, and though nothing was finally settled it was understood he would accept them. So matters stood, when one day (it must have been the Wednesday or Thursday) Vesey Fitzgerald called on the Arbuthnots, and in a conversation about the different arrangements he intimated that Manners Sutton expected to be Prime Minister, and on asking him more particularly they found that this was also his own impression. The next morning Arbuthnot went off to Lyndhurst's house, where he arrived before Lyndhurst was dressed, and told him what had fallen from Fitzgerald, and asked what it could mean. Lyndhurst answered very evasively, but promised to have the matter cleared up. Arbuthnot, not satisfied, went to the Duke and told him what had passed, and added his conviction that there was some such project on foot (to make Sutton Premier) of which he was not aware. The Duke said he did not care a farthing who was Premier, and that if it was thought desirable that Sutton should be he had not the smallest objection, and was by no means anxious to fill the post himself. I asked whether the Duke would have taken office if Sutton had been Minister, and was told that nothing was settled, but probably not.

The same day there was a meeting at Apsley House, at which the Duke, Lyndhurst, Baring, Ellenborough, and (I think) Rosslyn or Aberdeen, or both, were present, and to which Sutton came, and held forth for nearly four hours upon the position of their affairs and his coming into office. He talked such incredible nonsense (as I have before related) that when he was gone they all lifted up their hands and with one voice pronounced the impossibility of forming any Government under such a head. Baring was then asked why he had made Sutton's coming into office the condition of his own acceptance, and why he had wished him to be Prime Minister. He said that he had never desired any such thing himself, and had hardly any acquaintance with Sutton, except that as speaker he was civil to him, and he dined with him once a year, but that when he had gone to consult Peel, Peel had advised him to insist upon having Sutton, and to put him at the head of the Government. This avowal led to further examination into what had passed, and it came out that when Lyndhurst went to Peel, Peel pressed Manners Sutton upon him, refusing to take office himself, but promising to support the new Government, and urging Lyndhurst to offer the Premiership to Sutton. At the same time he put Sutton up to this, and desired him to refuse every office except that of Premier. Accordingly, when Lyndhurst went to Sutton, the latter said he would be Prime Minister or nothing, and Lyndhurst had the folly to promise it to him. Thus matters stood when Lady Cowley, who was living at Apsley House, and got hold of what was passing, went and told it to her brother, Lord Salisbury, who lost no time in imparting it to some of the other High Tory Lords, who all agreed that it would not do to have Sutton at the head of the Government, and that the Duke was the only man for them. On Saturday the great dinner at the Conservative Club took place, at which a number of Tories, principally Peers, with the Duke and Peel, were present. A great many speeches were made, all full of enthusiasm for the Duke, and expressing a determination to support his Government. Peel was in very ill humour and said little; the Duke spoke much in honour of Peel, applauding his conduct and saying that the difference of their positions justified each in his different line. The next day some of the Duke's friends met, and agreed that the unanimous desire for the Duke's being at the head of the Government which had been expressed at that dinner, together with the unfitness of Sutton, proved the absolute necessity of the Duke's being Premier, and it was resolved that a communication to this effect should be made to Peel. Aberdeen charged himself with it and went to Peel's house, where Sutton was at the time. Peel came to Aberdeen in a very bad humour, said he saw from what had passed at the dinner that nobody was thought of but the Duke, and he should wash his hands of the whole business; that he had already declined having anything to do with the Government, and to that determination he should adhere. The following Monday the whole thing was at an end.

I am not sure that I have stated these occurrences exactly as they were told me. There may be errors in the order of the interviews and pourparlers, and in the verbal details, but the substance is correct, and may be summed up to this effect: that Peel, full of ambition, but of caution, animated by deep dislike and jealousy of the Duke (which policy induced him to conceal, but which temper betrayed), thought to make Manners Sutton play the part of Addington, while he was to be another Pitt; he fancied that he could gain in political character, by an opposite line of conduct, all that the Duke would lose; and he resolved that a Government should be formed the existence of which should depend upon himself. Manners Sutton was to be his creature; he would have dictated every measure of Government; he would have been their protector in the House of Commons; and, as soon as the fitting moment arrived, he would have dissolved this miserable Ministry and placed himself at the head of affairs. All these deep-laid schemes, and constant regard of self, form a strong contrast to the simplicity and heartiness of the Duke's conduct, and make the two men appear in a very different light from that in which they did at first. Peel acted right from bad motives, the Duke wrong from good ones. The Duke put himself forward, and encountered all the obloquy and reproach to which he knew he exposed himself, and having done so, cheerfully offered to resign the power to another. Peel endeavoured to seize the power, but to shield himself from responsibility and danger. It is a melancholy proof of the dearth of talent and the great capacity of the man that, notwithstanding the detection of his practices and his motives, the Tories are compelled still to keep well with him and to accept him for their leader. No cordiality, however, can exist again between him and the Duke and his friends, and, should the Whig Government be expelled, the animosity and disunion engendered by these circumstances will make it extremely difficult to form a Tory Administration. [In a short time it was all made up—forgiven, if not forgotten.]

November 7th, 1832 {p.329}

[Page Head: EMBARGO ON DUTCH SHIPS.]

Came to town on Sunday. The answer of the Dutch King to the demand of England and France that he should give up Antwerp was anxiously expected. It arrived on Monday afternoon, and was a refusal. Accordingly a Council met yesterday, at which an order was made for laying an embargo on Dutch merchant ships, which are to be sequestrated, but not confiscated. The French army marches forthwith, and Palmerston told me they expected two or three days of bombardment would suffice for the capture of the citadel, after which the French would retire within their own frontier. The combined fleets will remain at the Downs, for they can do nothing on the coast of Holland at this season of the year. There is a good deal of jealousy and no friendly spirit between the English and French sailors; and the Duke of Richmond told me yesterday that the Deal pilots desired nothing so much as to get the French ships into a scrape. Great excitement prevails about this Dutch question, which is so complicated that at this moment I do not understand its merits. Matuscewitz, however, who is opposed totis viribus to the policy of England and France, told me that nobody could have behaved worse than the King of Holland has done, shuffling and tricking throughout; but they say he is so situated at home that he could not give way if he would. A few days must now decide the question of war or peace. All the Ministers, except Brougham, Lord Holland, Grant, and Carlisle, were at the Council yesterday—the Archbishop of Canterbury for a prayer (for we omit no opportunity of offering supplications or returning thanks to Heaven), and the new Lord Chief Justice to be sworn a Privy Councillor.

[Page Head: DENMAN LORD CHIEF JUSTICE.]

Lord Tenterden died on Sunday night, and no time was lost in appointing Denman as his successor. Coming as he does after four of the greatest lawyers who ever sat upon the Bench, this choice will not escape severe censure; for the reputation of Denman as a lawyer is not high, and he has been one of the most inefficient Attorneys-General who ever filled the office. It has been a constant matter of complaint on the part of the Government and their friends that the law officers of the Crown gave them no assistance, but, on the contrary, got them into scrapes. Denman is an honourable man, and has been a consistent politician; latterly, of course, a Radical of considerable vehemence, if not of violence. The other men who were mentioned as successors to Tenterden were Lyndhurst, Scarlett, and James Parke. The latter is the best of the puisne judges, and might have been selected if all political considerations and political connexions had been disregarded. Lyndhurst will be overwhelmed with anguish and disappointment at finding himself for ever excluded from the great object of his ambition, and in which his professional claims are so immeasurably superior to those of his successful competitor; nor has he lost it by any sacrifice of interest to honour, but merely from the unfortunate issue of his political speculations. When he was made Chief Baron a regular compact was made, a secret article, that he should succeed on Tenterden's death to the Chief Justiceship; which bargain was of course cancelled by his declaration of war on the Reform question and his consequent breach with Lord Grey; though by far the fittest man, he was now out of the question. It will be the more grating as he has just evinced his high capabilities by pronouncing in the Court of Exchequer one of the ablest judgments (in Small v. Attwood) that were ever delivered. [It was afterwards reversed by the House of Lords.] Scarlett, who had been a Whig for forty years, and who has long occupied the first place in the Court of King's Bench, would have been the man if his political dissociation from his old connexions, and his recent hostility to them, had not also cancelled his claims; so that every rival being set aside from one cause or another, Denman, by one of the most extraordinary pieces of good fortune that ever happened to man, finds himself elevated to this great office, the highest object of a lawyer's ambition, and, in my opinion, one of the most enviable stations an Englishman can attain. It is said that as a Common Serjeant he displayed the qualities of a good judge, and his friends confidently assert that he will make a very good Chief Justice; but his legal qualifications are admitted to be very inferior to those of his predecessors. [He made a very bad one, but was personally popular and generally respected for his high, and honourable moral character.]

Tenterden was a remarkable man, and his elevation did great credit to the judgment which selected him, and which probably was Eldon's. He had never led a cause, but he was a profound lawyer, and appears to have had a mind fraught with the spirit and genius of the law, and not narrowed and trammelled by its subtleties and technicalities. In spite of his low birth, want of oratorical power, and of personal dignity, he was greatly revered and dreaded on the Bench. He was an austere, but not an ill-humoured judge; his manners were remarkably plain and unpolished, though not vulgar. He was an elegant scholar, and cultivated classical literature to the last. Brougham, whose congenial tastes delighted in his classical attainments, used to bandy Latin and Greek with him from the Bar to the Bench; and he has more than once told me of his sending Tenterden Greek verses of John Williams', of which the next day Tenterden gave him a translation in Latin verse. He is supposed to have died very rich. Denman was taken into the King's closet before the Council, when he was sworn in; the King took no particular notice of him, and the appointment is not, probably, very palatable to his Majesty.

November 15th, 1832 {p.331}

Sheriff business at the Exchequer Court on Monday; saw Lyndhurst and Denman meet and shake hands with much politeness and grimace.

November 20th, 1832 {p.331}

Dined at Holland House the day before yesterday; Lady Holland is unwell, fancies she must dine at five o'clock, and exerts her power over society by making everybody go out there at that hour, though nothing can be more inconvenient than thus shortening the day, and nothing more tiresome than such lengthening of the evening. Rogers and Luttrell were staying there. The tableau of the house is this:—Before dinner, Lady Holland affecting illness and almost dissolution, but with a very respectable appetite, and after dinner in high force and vigour; Lord Holland, with his chalkstones and unable to walk, lying on his couch in very good spirits and talking away; Luttrell and Rogers walking about, ever and anon looking despairingly at the clock and making short excursions from the drawing-room; Allen surly and disputatious, poring over the newspapers, and replying in monosyllables (generally negative) to whatever is said to him. The grand topic of interest, far exceeding the Belgian or Portuguese questions, was the illness of Lady Holland's page, who has got a tumour in his thigh. This 'little creature,' as Lady Holland calls a great hulking fellow of about twenty, is called 'Edgar,' his real name being Tom or Jack, which he changed on being elevated to his present dignity, as the Popes do when they are elected to the tiara. More rout is made about him than other people are permitted to make about their children, and the inmates of Holland House are invited and compelled to go and sit with and amuse him. Such is the social despotism of this strange house, which presents an odd mixture of luxury and constraint, of enjoyment physical and intellectual, with an alloy of small desagrements. Talleyrand generally comes at ten or eleven o'clock, and stays as long as they will let him. Though everybody who goes there finds something to abuse or to ridicule in the mistress of the house, or its ways, all continue to go; all like it more or less; and whenever, by the death of either, it shall come to an end, a vacuum will be made in society which nothing will supply. It is the house of all Europe; the world will suffer by the loss; and it may with truth be said that it will 'eclipse the gaiety of nations.'

November 27th, 1832 {p.332}

At Roehampton from Saturday till Monday. The Chancellor had been there a few days before, from whom Lord Dover had picked up the gossip of the Government. There had been a fresh breeze with Durham, who it seems has returned from Russia more odious than ever. His violence and insolence, as usual, were vented on Lord Grey, and the rest of the Cabinet, as heretofore, are obliged to submit. I have since heard from the Duke of Richmond that the cause of this last storm was something relating to Church Reform, and that he had been forced to knock under. I fancy he wanted to go much further than the others, probably to unfrock the Bishop of Durham and Bishop Phillpotts, the former because he is a greater man in the county than himself, and the latter from old and inextinguishable hatred and animosity.

[Page Head: THE SPEAKERSHIP.]

There has been another dispute about the Speakership. All the Cabinet except Althorp want to put Abercromby in the chair, and Althorp insists on having Littleton. The former is in all respects the best choice, and the man whom they ought, from his long connexion with the Whigs and his consistency and respectability, to propose, but Althorp thought fit to commit himself in some way to Littleton, who has no claims to be compared with those of Abercromby (having been half his life in opposition to the present Government), and he obstinately insists upon the expectations held out to him being realised. Lord Grey, though very anxious for Abercromby, thinks it necessary to defer to the leader of the House of Commons, and the consequence is a very disagreeable dispute on the subject. Abercromby is greatly mortified at being postponed to Littleton, and not the less as Althorp has always been his friend. The language of Dover, who is a sort of jackal to Brougham, clearly indicates the desire of that worthy to get rid of Lord Grey and put himself in his place. All these little squabbles elicit some disparaging remarks on Lord Grey's weakness, folly, or cupidity. Haeret lateri—the offer of the Attorney-Generalship, and the day of vengeance is intended to come.[1]

[1] [This refers to Lord Grey's having offered the Attorney-Generalship to Brougham when Government was formed.]

After considerable delay Horne and Campbell were appointed Attorney- and Solicitor-General; the delay was occasioned by ineffectual attempts to dispose of Horne elsewhere. They wanted to get some puisne judge to resign, and to put Horne on the Bench, but they could not make any such arrangement, so Horne is Attorney. Pepys was to have been Solicitor if the thing could have been managed. I don't think I picked up anything else, except that the King was very averse to the French attack upon Antwerp, and consented to the hand-in-hand arrangement between France and England with considerable reluctance. The fact is he hates this Government so much that he dislikes all they do.

Lord Lansdowne is just come from Paris, and gives a flourishing account of the prospects of King Louis Philippe and his Government, but as he is the Duc de Broglie's intimate friend his opinion may be prejudiced. The King appears certainly to have rather gained than not by the attack which was made on him, from the coolness and courage he evinced, and it is a great point to have proved that he is not a coward.

Brighton, December 14th, 1832 {p.334}

Came here last Wednesday week; Council on the Monday for the dissolution; place very full, bustling, gay, and amusing. I am staying in De Ros's house with Alvanley; Chesterfields, Howes, Lievens, Cowpers, all at Brighton, and plenty of occupation in visiting, gossiping, dawdling, riding, and driving; a very idle life, and impossible to do anything. The Court very active, vulgar, and hospitable; King, Queen, Princes, Princesses, bastards, and attendants constantly trotting about in every direction: the election noisy and dull—the Court candidate beaten and two Radicals elected. Everybody talking of the siege of Antwerp and the elections. So, with plenty of animation, and discussion, and curiosity, I like it very well. Lord Howe is devoted to the Queen, and never away from her. She receives his attentions, but demonstrates nothing in return; he is like a boy in love with this frightful spotted Majesty, while his delightful wife is laid up (with a sprained ancle and dislocated joint) on her couch.

Brighton, December 17th, 1832 {p.334}

On Sunday I heard Anderson preach. He does not write his sermons, but preaches from notes; very eloquent, voice and manner perfect, one of the best I ever heard, both preacher and reader.

[Page Head: MR. GULLY.]

The borough elections are nearly over, and have satisfied the Government. They do not seem to be bad on the whole; the metropolitans have sent good men enough, and there was no tumult in the town. At Hertford Duncombe was routed by Salisbury's long purse. He hired such a numerous mob besides that he carried all before him. Some very bad characters have been returned; among the worst, Faithful here; Gronow at Stafford; Gully, Pontefract; Cobbett, Oldham; though I am glad that Cobbett is in Parliament. Gully's history is extraordinary. He was taken out of prison twenty-five or thirty years ago by Mellish to fight Pierce, surnamed the 'Game Chicken,' being then a butcher's apprentice; he fought him and was beaten. He afterwards fought Belcher (I believe), and Gresson twice, and left the prize-ring with the reputation of being the best man in it. He then took to the turf, was successful, established himself at Newmarket, where he kept a hell, and began a system of corruption of trainers, jockeys, and boys, which put the secrets of all Newmarket at his disposal, and in a few years made him rich. At the same time he connected himself with Mr. Watt in the north, by betting for him, and this being at the time when Watt's stable was very successful, he won large sums of money by his horses. Having become rich he embarked in a great coal speculation, which answered beyond his hopes, and his shares soon yielded immense profits. His wife, who was a coarse, vulgar woman, in the meantime died, and he afterwards married the daughter of an innkeeper, who proved as gentlewomanlike as the other had been the reverse, and who is very pretty besides. He now gradually withdrew from the betting ring as a regular blackleg, still keeping horses, and betting occasionally in large sums, and about a year or two ago, having previously sold the Hare Park to Sir Mark Wood, where he lived for two or three years, he bought a property near Pontefract, and settled down (at Ackworth Park) as John Gully, Esq., a gentleman of fortune. At the Reform dissolution he was pressed to come forward as candidate for Pontefract, but after some hesitation he declined. Latterly he has taken great interest in politics, and has been an ardent Reformer and a liberal subscriber for the advancement of the cause. When Parliament was about to be dissolved, he was again invited to stand for Pontefract by a numerous deputation; he again hesitated, but finally accepted; Lord Mexborough withdrew, and he was elected without opposition. In person he is tall and finely formed, full of strength and grace, with delicate hands and feet, his face coarse and with a bad expression, his head set well on his shoulders, and remarkably graceful and even dignified in his actions and manners; totally without education, he has strong sense, discretion, reserve, and a species of good taste which has prevented, in the height of his fortunes, his behaviour from ever transgressing the bounds of modesty and respect, and he has gradually separated himself from the rabble of bettors and blackguards of whom he was once the most conspicuous, and tacitly asserted his own independence and acquired gentility without ever presuming towards those whom he has been accustomed to regard with deference. His position is now more anomalous than ever, for a member of Parliament is a great man, though there appear no reasons why the suffrages of the blackguards of Pontefract should place him in different social relations towards us than those in which we mutually stood before.