Petworth, December 20th, 1832 {p.336}

[Page Head: EARL OF EGREMONT.]

Came here yesterday. It is a very grand place; house magnificent and full of fine objects, both ancient and modern; the Sir Joshuas and Vandykes particularly interesting, and a great deal of all sorts that is worth seeing. Lord Egremont was eighty-one the day before yesterday, and is still healthy, with faculties and memory apparently unimpaired. He has reigned here for sixty years with great authority and influence. He is shrewd, eccentric, and benevolent, and has always been munificent and charitable in his own way; he patronises the arts and fosters rising genius. Painters and sculptors find employment and welcome in his house; he has built a gallery which is full of pictures and statues, some of which are very fine, and the pictures scattered through the house are interesting and curious. Lord Egremont hates ceremony, and can't bear to be personally meddled with; he likes people to come and go as it suits them, and say nothing about it, never to take leave of him. The party here consists of the Cowpers, his own family, a Lady E. Romney, two nieces, Mrs. Tredcroft a neighbour, Ridsdale a parson, Wynne, Turner, the great landscape painter, and a young artist of the name of Lucas, whom Lord Egremont is bringing into notice, and who will owe his fortune (if he makes it) to him. Lord Egremont is enormously rich, and lives with an abundant though not very refined hospitality. The house wants modern comforts, and the servants are rustic and uncouth; but everything is good, and it all bears an air of solid and aristocratic grandeur. The stud groom told me there are 300 horses of different sorts here. His course, however, is nearly run, and he has the mortification of feeling that, though surrounded with children and grandchildren, he is almost the last of his race, and that his family is about to be extinct. Two old brothers and one childless nephew are all that are left of the Wyndhams, and the latter has been many years married. All his own children are illegitimate, but he has everything in his power, though nobody has any notion of the manner in which he will dispose of his property. It is impossible not to reflect upon the prodigious wealth of the Earls of Northumberland, and of the proud Duke of Somerset who married the last heiress of that house, the betrothed of three husbands. All that Lord Egremont has, all the Duke of Northumberland's property, and the Duke of Rutland's Cambridgeshire estate belonged to them, which together is probably equivalent to between L200,000 and L300,000 a year. Banks told me that the Northumberland property, when settled on Sir H. Smithson, was not above L12,000 a year.[2]

[2] [The eleventh Earl of Northumberland, Joscelyn Percy, died in 1670, leaving an only daughter, who married Charles Seymour, ninth Duke of Somerset. This lady is described as 'the betrothed of three husbands,' because she was married at fourteen to Henry Cavendish, son of the Duke of Newcastle, who died in the following year. She was then affianced to Thomas Thynne of Longleat, who was assassinated in 1682; and at last married to the Duke of Somerset. The eldest son of this marriage, Algernon Seymour, who succeeded to the Dukedom of Somerset in 1748, was created Earl of Northumberland on the 2nd of October, 1749, and Earl of Egremont on the following day, with remainder (as regards the latter title) to his nephew Sir Charles Wyndham, who succeeded him in February 1750. The Earldom of Northumberland passed at the same time to Sir Hugh Smithson, son-in-law of Duke Algernon, who was created Duke of Northumberland in 1766. The titles and the vast property of the Duke of Somerset, Earl of Northumberland, thus came to be divided. George O'Brien Wyndham, third Earl of Egremont, to whom Mr. Greville paid this visit, was born on the 18th of December, 1751. He was therefore eighty-two years old at this time; but he lived five years longer, and died in 1837, famous and beloved for his splendid hospitality and for his liberal and judicious patronage of the arts, and likewise of the turf.]

Brighton, December 31st, 1832 {p.338}

Lady Howe gave me an account of the offer of the Chamberlainship to her husband again. They added the condition that he should not oppose Government, but was not to be obliged to support them. This he refused, and he regarded the proposal as an insult; so the Queen was not conciliated the more. She likewise told me that the cause of her former wrath when he was dismissed was that neither the King nor Lord Grey told her of it, and that if they had she would have consented to the sacrifice at once with a good grace; but in the way it was done she thought herself grossly ill-used. It is impossible to ascertain the exact nature of this connexion. Howe conducts himself towards her like a young ardent lover; he never is out of the Pavilion, dines there almost every day, or goes every evening, rides with her, never quitting her side, and never takes his eyes off her. She does nothing, but she admits his attentions and acquiesces in his devotion; at the same time there is not the smallest evidence that she treats him as a lover. If she did it would be soon known, for she is surrounded by enemies. All the Fitzclarences dislike her, and treat her more or less disrespectfully. She is aware of it, but takes no notice. She is very civil and good-humoured to them all; and as long as they keep within the bounds of decency, and do not break out into actual impertinence, she probably will continue so.

[Page Head: NAMIK PACHA.]

Two nights ago there was a great assembly after a dinner for the reception of the Turkish Ambassador, Namik Pacha. He was brought down by Palmerston and introduced before dinner to the King and Queen. He is twenty-eight years old, speaks French well, and has good manners; his dress very simple—a red cap, black vest, trousers and boots, a gold chain and medal round his neck. He did not take out any lady to dinner, but was placed next the Queen. After dinner the King made him a ridiculous speech, with abundant flourishes about the Sultan and his friendship for him, which is the more droll from his having been High Admiral at the time of the battle of Navarino, to which the Pacha replied in a sonorous voice. He admired everything, and conversed with great ease. All the stupid, vulgar Englishwomen followed him about as a lion with offensive curiosity.

* * * * *

1833.

January 3rd, 1833 {p.339}

Lady Howe begged her husband to show me the correspondence between him and Sir Herbert Taylor about the Chamberlainship. It is long and confused; Taylor's first letter, in my opinion, very impertinent, for it reads him a pretty severe lecture about his behaviour when he held the office before. Howe is a foolish man, but in this business he acted well enough, better than might have been expected. Taylor, by the King's desire, proposed to him to resume the office; and after some cavilling he agreed to do so with liberty to vote as he pleased, but promising not to be violent. So stood the matter on the 9th of September. He heard nothing more of it till the 5th of November, when young Hudson[3] wrote by the King's orders to know definitely if he meant to take it, but that if he did he must be 'neutral.' Howe wrote back word that on such terms he declined it. I told him my opinion of the whole business, and added my strenuous advice that he should immediately prevail on the Queen to appoint somebody else. I could not tell him all that people said, but I urged it as strongly as I could, hinting that there were very urgent reasons for so doing. He did not relish this advice at all, owned that he clung tenaciously to the office, liked everything about it, and longed to avail himself of some change of circumstances to return; and that though he was no longer her officer, he had ever since done all the business, and in fact was, without the name, as much her Chamberlain as ever. Lady Howe, who is vexed to death at the whole thing, was enchanted at my advice, and vehemently urged him to adopt it. After he went away she told me how glad she was at what I had said, and asked me if people did not say and believe everything of Howe's connexion with the Queen, which I told her they did. I must say that what passed is enough to satisfy me that there is what is called 'nothing in it' but the folly and vanity of being the confidential officer and councillor of this hideous Queen, for whom he has worked himself up into a sort of chivalrous devotion. Yesterday Howe spoke to the Queen about it, and proposed to speak to the King; the Queen (he says) would not hear of it, and forbad his speaking to the King. To-day he is gone away, and I don't know what he settled, probably nothing.

[3] ['Young Hudson' was the page of honour who was sent to Rome in the following year to fetch Sir Robert Peel, when, as Mr. Disraeli expressed it, 'the hurried Hudson rushed into the chambers of his Vatican.' He grew up to be a very able and distinguished diplomatist, Sir James Hudson, G.C.B., who rendered great services to the cause of Italian independence.]

[Page Head: LYNDHURST AND MANNERS SUTTON.]

Lyndhurst dined here the day before yesterday. Finding I knew all that had passed about the negotiations for a Tory Government in the middle of the Reform question, he told me his story, which differs very little from that which Arbuthnot had told me at Downham, and fully corroborates his account of the duplicity of Peel and the extraordinary conduct of Lyndhurst himself. He said that as soon as he had left the King he went to the Duke, who said he must go directly to Peel. Peel refused to join. The Duke desired him to go back to Peel, and propose to him to be Prime Minister and manage everything himself. Peel still declined, on which he went to Baring. Baring begged he might consult Peel, which was granted. He came back, said he would take office, but that they must invite Manners Sutton also. They did so, and Sutton refused. Vesey Fitzgerald, however, suggested to Lyndhurst that if they proposed to Sutton to be Prime Minister perhaps he would accept. Another conversation ensued with Sutton, and a meeting was fixed at Apsley House on the Sunday. In the meantime Lyndhurst went down to the King and told him what had taken place, adding that Sutton would not do, and that the Duke alone could form a Government. At Apsley House Sutton talked for three hours, and such infernal nonsense that Lyndhurst was ready to go mad; nor would he decide. They pressed him to say if he would take office or not. He said he must wait till the next morning. They said, 'It must be very early, then.' In the morning he put off deciding (on some frivolous pretext) till the afternoon. He went to the House of Commons without having given any answer. The famous debate ensued, and the whole game was up.

All this tallies with the other account, only he did not say that Peel had desired Baring to insist on Sutton, and had advised Sutton to take no place but the highest, nor that he had without the Duke's knowledge offered Sutton that post, and concealed from Sutton his subsequent opinion of his incapacity and determination that he should not have it. I asked Lyndhurst how he managed with Sutton, and whether he had not come to Apsley House with the impression on his mind that he was to be Premier. He said that 'he had evaded that question with Sutton'—that is, all parties were deceived, while the Duke, who meant to act nobly, suffered all the blame. He showed great disregard of personal interests and selfish views, but I shall always think his error was enormous. It is remarkable that this story is so little known.

They had a dinner and dancing the night before last at the Pavilion for New Year's Day; and the King danced a country dance with Lord Amelius Beauclerc, an old Admiral.

London, January 11th, 1833 {p.341}

Came to town with Alvanley the day before yesterday. Howe plucked up courage, spoke to the King and Queen, and settled Denbigh's appointment,[4] though not without resistance on the part of their Majesties. Lord Grey came down, and was very well received by both. At the commerce table the King sat by him, and was full of jokes; called him continually 'Lord Howe,' to the great amusement of the bystanders and of Lord Grey himself. Munster came down and was reconciled, condescending moyennant a douceur of L2,500 to accept the Constableship of the Round Tower. The stories of the King are uncommonly ridiculous. He told Madame de Ludolf, who had been Ambassadress at Constantinople, that he desired she would recommend Lady Ponsonby to all her friends there, and she might tell them she was the daughter of one of his late brother's sultanas (Lady Jersey). His Majesty insisted on Lord Stafford's taking the title of Sutherland, and ordered Gower to send him an express to say so. One day at dinner he asked the Duke of Devonshire 'where he meant to be buried!'

[4] [William Basil Percy, seventh Earl of Denbigh, was appointed Chamberlain to Queen Adelaide at this time, and remained in the service of her Majesty—a most excellent and devoted servant—to the close of her life.]

[Page Head: STATE OF THE TORY PARTY.]

I received a few days ago at Brighton the draft of a Bill of Brougham's for transferring the jurisdiction of the Delegates to the Privy Council, or rather for creating a new Court and sinking the Privy Council in it. Lord Lansdowne sent it to me, and desired me to send him my opinion upon it. I showed it to Stephen, and returned it to Lord Lansdowne with some criticisms in which Stephen and I had agreed. It is a very bungling piece of work, and one which Lord Lansdowne ought not to consent to, the object evidently being to make a Court of which Brougham shall be at the head, and to transfer to it much of the authority of the Crown, Parliament, and Privy Council; all from his ambitious and insatiable desire of personal aggrandisement. I have no doubt he is playing a deep game, and paving the way for his own accession to power, striving to obtain popularity and influence with the King; that he will succeed to a great degree, and for a certain time, is probable. Manners Sutton is to be again Speaker. Althorp wrote him a very flummery letter, and he accepted. The Government wants to be out of the scrape they are in between Abercromby and Littleton, and Sutton wants his peerage. Everything seems prosperous here; the Government is strong, the House of Commons is thought respectable on the whole and safe, trade is brisk, funds rising, money plentiful, confidence reviving, Tories sulky.

January 17th, 1833 {p.343}

The Government don't know what to do about the embargo on the Dutch ships. Soon after they had laid it on they made a second order allowing ships with perishable goods to go free; and thinking the whole thing would be soon over, they desired this might be construed indulgently, and accordingly many ships were suffered to pass (with goods more or less perishing) under that order. Now that the King of Holland continues obstinate they want to squeeze him, and to construe the order strictly. There have been many consultations what to do, whether they should make another order rescinding the last or execute the former more strictly. Both are liable to objections. The first will appear like a cruel proceeding and evidence of uncertainty of purpose; the last will show a capricious variation in the practice of the Privy Council, with which the matter rests. Their wise heads were to be put together last night to settle this knotty point.

Wharncliffe showed me a paper he has written, in which, after briefly recapitulating the present state of the Tory party and the condition of the new Parliament (particularly as to the mode in which it was elected, or rather under what influence), he proceeds to point out what ought to be the course for the Tories to adopt. It is moderate and becoming enough, and he has imparted it to the Duke of Wellington, who concurs in his view. I wonder, however, that he is not sick of writing papers and imparting views, after all that passed last year, after his fruitless attempts, his false moves, and the treatment he received at the hands of the Tories; but he seems to have forgotten or forgiven everything, and is disposed to wriggle himself back amongst the party upon any terms. He acknowledges one thing fully, and that is the desperate and woebegone condition of the party itself, and the impossibility of their doing anything now as a party.

Lord Lansdowne received very complacently my criticisms on Brougham's Bill, and has acknowledged since he came to town that it would not do at all as it now stands. The King has been delighting the Whigs, and making himself more ridiculous and contemptible by the most extravagant civilities to the new Peers—that is, to Western and about Lord Stafford. He now appears to be very fond of his Ministers.

January 19th, 1833 {p.344}

I have at last succeeded in stimulating Lord Lansdowne to something like resistance (or rather the promise of it) to Brougham's Bill. I have proved to him that his dignity and his interest will both be compromised by this Bill, which intends to make the Chancellor President of the Court, and ergo of the Council, and to give him all the patronage there will be. Against these proposals he kicks; at least he is restive, and shows symptoms of kicking, though he will very likely be still again. I sent the Bill to Stephen, who instantly and currente calamo drew up a series of objections to it, as comprehensive and acute as all his productions are, and last night I sent it to Leach (who hates the Chancellor), and he has returned it to me with a strong condemnatory reply. Stephen having told me that Howick would be too happy to oppose this Bill, on account of the influence it would have on Colonial matters, particularly about Canada, I took it to him, but he declined interfering, though he concurred in Stephen's remarks.

January 22nd, 1833 {p.344}

[Page Head: VISIT TO HARTWELL.]

Dined with Talleyrand the day before yesterday. Nobody there but his attaches. After dinner he told me about his first residence in England, and his acquaintance with Fox and Pitt. He always talks in a kind of affectionate tone about the former, and is now meditating a visit to Mrs. Fox at St. Anne's Hill, where he may see her surrounded with the busts, pictures, and recollections of her husband. He delights to dwell on the simplicity, gaiety, childishness, and profoundness of Fox. I asked him if he had ever known Pitt. He said that Pitt came to Rheims to learn French, and he was there at the same time on a visit to the Archbishop, his uncle (whom I remember at Hartwell,[5] a very old prelate with the tic-douloureux), and that he and Pitt lived together for nearly six weeks, reciprocally teaching each other French and English. After Chauvelin had superseded him, and that he and Chauvelin had disagreed, he went to live near Epsom (at Juniper Hall) with Madame de Stael; afterwards they came to London, and in the meantime Pitt had got into the hands of the emigres, who persuaded him to send Talleyrand away, and accordingly he received orders to quit England in twenty-four hours. He embarked on board a vessel for America, but was detained in the river off Greenwich. Dundas sent to him, and asked him to come and stay with him while the ship was detained, but he said he would not set his foot on English ground again, and remained three weeks on board the ship in the river. It is strange to hear M. de Talleyrand talk at seventy-eight. He opens the stores of his memory and pours forth a stream on any subject connected with his past life. Nothing seems to have escaped from that great treasury of bygone events.

[5] [Mr. Greville had paid a visit with his father to the little Court of Louis XVIII. at Hartwell about two years before the Restoration, when he was eighteen years of age. His narrative of this visit has been printed in the fifth volume of the 'Miscellany of the Philobiblon Society,' but it may not be inappropriately inserted here.]

A VISIT TO HARTWELL. April 14th, 1814.

I have often determined to commit to paper as much as I can remember of my visit to Hartwell; and, as the King is about to ascend the throne of his ancestors, it is not uninteresting to recall to mind the particulars of a visit paid to him while in exile and in poverty. About two years ago my father and I went to Hartwell by invitation of the King. We dressed at Aylesbury, and proceeded to Hartwell in the afternoon. We had previously taken a walk in the environs of the town, and had met the Duchesse d'Angouleme on horseback, accompanied by a Madame Choisi. At five o'clock we set out to Hartwell. The house is large, but in a dreary, disagreeable situation. The King had completely altered the interior, having subdivided almost all the apartments in order to lodge a greater number of people. There were numerous outhouses, in some of which small shops had been established by the servants, interspersed with gardens, so that the place resembled a little town. Upon entering the house we were conducted by the Duc de Grammont into the King's private apartment. He received us most graciously and shook hands with both of us. This apartment was exceedingly small, hardly larger than a closet, and I remarked pictures of the late King and Queen, Madame Elizabeth, and the Dauphin, Louis XVII., hanging on the walls. The King had a manner of swinging his body backwards and forwards, which caused the most unpleasant sensations in that small room, and made my father feel something like being sea-sick. The room was just like a cabin, and the motions of his Majesty exactly resembled the heaving of a ship. After our audience with the King we were taken to the salon a large room with a billiard table at one end. Here the party assembled before dinner, to all of whom we were presented—the Duchesse d'Angouleme, Monsieur the Duc d'Angouleme, the Duc de Berri, the Prince and Princess de Conde (ci-devant Madame de Monaco), and a vast number of ducs, &c.; Madame la Duchesse de Serron (a little old dame d'honneur to Madame d'Angouleme), the Duc de Lorges, the Duc d'Auray, the Archeveque de Rheims (an infirm old prelate, tortured with the tic-douloureux), and many others whose names I cannot remember. At a little after six dinner was announced, when we went into the next room, the King walking out first. The dinner was extremely plain, consisting of very few dishes, and no wines except port and sherry. His Majesty did the honours himself, and was very civil and agreeable. We were a very short time at table, and the ladies and gentlemen all got up together. Each of the ladies folded up her napkin, tied it round with a bit of ribbon, and carried it away. After dinner we returned to the drawing-room and drank coffee. The whole party remained in conversation about a quarter of an hour, when the King retired to his closet, upon which all repaired to their separate apartments. Whenever the King came in or went out of the room, Madame d'Angouleme made him a low curtsy, which he returned by bowing and kissing his hand. This little ceremony never failed to take place. After the party had separated we were taken to the Duc de Grammont's apartments, where we drank tea. After remaining there about three quarters of an hour we went to the apartment of Madame d'Angouleme, where a great part of the company were assembled, and where we stayed about a quarter of an hour. After this we descended again to the drawing-room, where several card tables were laid out. The King played at whist with the Prince and Princess de Conde and my father. His Majesty settled the points of the game at 'le quart d'un sheling.' The rest of the party played at billiards or ombre. The King was so civil as to invite us to sleep there, instead of returning to the inn at Aylesbury. When he invited us he said, 'Je crains que vous serez tres-mal loges, mais on donne ce qu'on peut.' Soon after eleven the King retired, when we separated for the night. We were certainly 'tres-mal loges.' In the morning when I got out of bed, I was alarmed by the appearance of an old woman on the leads before my window, who was hanging linen to dry. I was forced to retreat hastily to bed, not to shock the old lady's modesty. At ten the next morning we breakfasted, and at eleven we took leave of the King (who always went to Mass at that hour) and returned to London. We saw the whole place before we came away; and they certainly had shown great ingenuity in contriving to lodge such a number of people in and about the house—it was exactly like a small rising colony. We were very much pleased with our expedition; and were invited to return whenever we could make it convenient.

January 24th, 1833 {p.346}

I have at last made Lord Lansdowne fire a shot at the Chancellor about this Bill. He has written him a letter, in which he has embodied Stephen's objections and some of his own (as he says, for I did not see the letter). The Chancellor will be very angry, for he can't endure contradiction, and he has a prodigious contempt for the Lord President, whom he calls 'Mother Elizabeth.' He probably arrives at the sobriquet through Petty, Betty, and so on.

Dined with Talleyrand yesterday; Pozzo, who said little and seemed low; Talleyrand talked after dinner, said that Cardinal Fleury was one of the greatest Ministers who ever governed France, and that justice had never been done him; he had maintained peace for twenty years, and acquired Lorraine for France. He said this a propos of the library he formed or left, or whatever he did in that line, at Paris. He told me he goes very often to the British Museum, and has lately made them a present of a book.

January 26th, 1833 {p.347}

[Page Head: ABOLITION OF SLAVERY.]

[Page Head: HENRY TAYLOR ON ABOLITION OF SLAVERY.]

It seems that the Government project (or perhaps only the fact that they have one) about West Indian emancipation has got wind, and the West Indians are of course in a state of great alarm. They believe that it will be announced, whatever it is to be, in the King's Speech, though I doubt there being anything but a vague intention expressed in it. Of all political feelings and passions—and such this rage for emancipation is, rather than a consideration of interest—it has always struck me as the most extraordinary and remarkable. There can be no doubt that a great many of the Abolitionists are actuated by very pure motives; they have been shocked at the cruelties which have been and still are very often practised towards slaves, their minds are imbued with the horrors they have read and heard of, and they have an invincible conviction that the state of slavery under any form is repugnant to the spirit of the English Constitution and the Christian religion, and that it is a stain upon the national character which ought to be wiped away. These people, generally speaking, are very ignorant concerning all the various difficulties which beset the question; their notions are superficial; they pity the slaves, whom they regard as injured innocents, and they hate their masters, whom they treat as criminal barbarians. Others are animated in this cause purely by ambition, and by finding that it is a capital subject to talk upon, and a cheap and easy species of benevolence; others have satisfied themselves that slavery is a mistaken system, that the cruelty of it is altogether gratuitous, and that free labour will answer the purpose as well or better, and get rid of the odium; and thousands more have mixed feelings and opinions, compounded of some or all of the above in various degrees and proportions, according to the bent of individual character; but there are some persons among the most zealous and able of the Abolitionists who avail themselves of the passions and the ignorance of the people to carry this point, while they carefully conceal their own sentiments as to the result of the experiment. I say some because, though I only know (of my own knowledge) of one, from the sagacity of the man and the conformity of his opinions with those of others on this and other topics, I have no doubt that there are many who view the matter in the same light. I allude to Henry Taylor,[6] who rules half the West Indies in the Colonial Office, though with an invisible sceptre. Talking over the matter the other day, he said that he was well aware of the consequences of emancipation both to the negroes and the planters. The estates of the latter would not be cultivated; it would be impossible, for want of labour; the negroes would not work—no inducement would be sufficient to make them; they wanted to be free merely that they might be idle. They would, on being emancipated, possess themselves of ground, the fertility of which in those regions is so great that very trifling labour will be sufficient to provide them with the means of existence, and they will thus relapse rapidly into a state of barbarism; they will resume the habits of their African brethren, but, he thinks, without the ferocity and savageness which distinguish the latter. Of course the germs of civilisation and religion which have been sown among them in their servile state will be speedily obliterated; if not, as man must either rise or fall in the moral scale, they will acquire strength, with it power, and as certainly the desire of using that power for the amelioration of their condition. The island (for Jamaica may be taken for example, as it was in our conversation) would not long be tenable for whites; indeed, it is difficult to conceive how any planters could remain there when their property was no longer cultivable, even though the emancipated negroes should become as harmless and gentle as the ancient Mexicans. Notwithstanding this view of the matter, in which my friend has the sagacity to perceive some of the probable consequences of the measure, though (he admits) with much uncertainty as to its operation, influenced as it must be by circumstances and accidents, he is for emancipating at once. 'Fiat justitia ruat coelum'—that is, I do not know that he is for immediate, unconditional emancipation; I believe not, but he is for doing the deed; whether he goes before or lags after the Government I do not at this moment know. He is, too, a high-principled man, full of moral sensibility and of a grave, reflecting, philosophical character, and neither a visionary in religion nor in politics, only of a somewhat austere and uncompromising turn of mind, and with some of the positiveness of a theorist who has a lofty opinion of his own capacity, and has never undergone that discipline of the world, that tumbling and tossing and jostling, which beget modesty and diffidence and prudence, from the necessity which they inculcate of constant compromises with antagonist interests and hostile passions. But what is the upshot of all this? Why, that in the midst of the uproar and confusion, the smoke and the dust of the controversy, one may believe that one sees a glimmering of the real futurity in the case—and that is a long series of troubles and a wide scene of ruin.

[6] [Afterwards Sir Henry Taylor, K.M.G., author of 'Philip van Artevelde.' Nearly forty years later Sir H. Taylor continued to fill the same position described by Mr. Greville in 1833. He resigned in 1872.]

January 30th, 1833 {p.349}

The intentions of Government with regard to the West Indies (or rather that they have intentions of a nature very fatal to that interest) having got wind, the consternation of the West India body is great. A deputation, headed by Sir Alexander Grant, waited upon Lords Grey and Goderich the other day, and put certain questions to them, stating that the prevalence of reports, some of which had appeared in the newspapers, had greatly alarmed them, and they wished to ascertain if any of them had been authorised by Government. Lord Grey said 'certainly not; the Government had authorised nothing.' They asked if he would reappoint the Committees. He would give no pledge as to this, but they discussed the propriety of so doing, he seeming indisposed. To all their questions he gave vague answers, refusing to communicate anything except this, that nothing was decided, but a plan was under the consideration of the Cabinet in which the interests of all parties were consulted. He added that he could not pledge himself to give any previous intimation of the intentions of Government to the West India body, nor to disclose the measure at all until it was proposed to Parliament. There are in the meantime no end of reports of the nature and extent of the proposed measure, and no end to the projects and opinions of those who are interested.

I dined at Lord Bathurst's yesterday, and sat next to Lord Ellenborough, who said that he was convinced the best thing the proprietors could do would be to agree instantly to stop their orders, which he believes would compel Government to arrest their course. I am not enough acquainted with the subject to judge how far they might operate, but I doubt it, or that in the temper of the people of this country, or rather of those zealots who represent it, and with the disposition of this Government to yield to every popular cry, the fear of any consequences would prevent their going on. It would, I believe, only give them and the House of Commons a pretext for refusing them pecuniary compensation. I was much amused with a piece of vanity of Ellenborough's. We were talking of the war between the Turks and the Egyptians, and the resources of Egypt, &c., when he said, 'If I had continued at the Board of Control I would have had Egypt, got at it from the Red Sea; I had already ordered the formation of a corps of Arab guides!'

February 1st, 1833 {p.351}

[Page Head: RUSSIA AND TURKEY.]

The Reformed Parliament opened heavily (on Tuesday), as Government think satisfactorily. Cobbett took his seat on the Treasury Bench, and spoke three times, though the last time nobody would stay to hear him. He was very twaddling, and said but one good thing, when he called O'Connell the member for Ireland.

Saw Madame de Lieven the day before yesterday, who fired a tirade against Government; she vowed that nobody ever had been treated with such personal incivility as Lieven, 'des injures, des reproches,' that Cobbett, Hunt, and all the blackguards in England could not use more offensive language; whatever event was coming was imputed to Russia—Belgium, Portugal, Turkey, 'tout etait la Russie et les intrigues de la Russie;' that she foresaw they should be driven away from England. With reference to the war in Asia Minor, she said the Sultan had applied to the Emperor for assistance, 'et qu'il l'aurait, et que le Sultan n'avait pas un meilleur ami que lui,' that the Egyptians would advance no farther, and a great deal more of complaint at the injustice evinced towards them and on their political innocence. In the evening I told all this to Mellish of the Foreign Office, who knows everything about foreign affairs, and he said it was all a lie, that Russia had offered her assistance, which the Sultan had refused, and she was, in fact, intriguing and making mischief in every Court in Europe. George Villiers writes me word that she has been for months past endeavouring to get up a war anywhere, and that this Turkish business is more likely than anything to bring one about.[7]

[7] [The state of the Ottoman Empire was most critical. In the latter months of 1832 the victorious troops of Mehomet Ali had forced their way across the Taunus; the peace of Koniah was concluded early in 1833 with the Egyptians; and the Treaty of Unkiar Skelessi with the Russians in July 1833.]

February 2nd, 1833 {p.351}

Dinner at Lord Lansdowne's for the Sheriffs; soon over and not particularly disagreeable, though I hate dining with the Ministers; had some conversation with Goderich about Jamaica; he says Mulgrave has done very well there, perhaps rather too vigorously, that the dissolution of the Assembly under all circumstances is questionable, but he must be supported; he hopes nothing from another assembly, nor does Mulgrave, who says that they are incorrigible. The fact is their conduct paralyses the exertions of their friends here, if, indeed, they have any friends who would make any exertions.

February 4th, 1833 {p.352}

At Court for the King's Speech and the appointment of Sheriffs. Lord Munster and Lord Denbigh were sworn Privy Councillors. The West Indians have taken such an attitude of desperation that the Government is somewhat alarmed, and seems disposed to pause at the adoption of its abolitionary measures. George Hibbert told me last night that if they were driven to extremities there was nothing they were not ready to do, and that there would be another panic if Government did not take care, and so Rothschild had told them.

I dined with Madame de Lieven yesterday, who is in the agonies of doubt about her remaining here. It turns upon this: Stratford Canning has been appointed Ambassador at St. Petersburg, and the Emperor will not receive him. Palmerston is indignant, and will not send anybody else. If the Emperor persists, we shall only have a Charge d'Affaires at his Court, and in that case he will not leave an Ambassador at ours. There seems to be at present no way out of the quarrel. Stratford Canning's mission to Madrid cannot last for ever, and when it is over the point must be decided.

The people of Jamaica have presented a petition to the King (I don't know exactly in what shape, or how got up), praying to be released from their allegiance. Goderich told me that it was very insolent. Mulgrave's recent coup de theatre is severely condemned. Nothing can save these unhappy colonies, for all parties vie with each other in violence and folly—the people here and the people there, the Government here and the Government there.

February 10th, 1833 {p.353}

[Page Head: DEBATE ON THE ADDRESS.]

After four days' debate in the House of Commons (quite unprecedented, I believe) the Address was carried by a large majority.[8] Opinions are of course very various upon the state of the House and the character of the discussion. The anti-Reformers, with a sort of melancholy triumph, boast that their worst expectations have been fulfilled. The Government were during the first day or two very serious, and though on the whole they think they have reason to be satisfied, they cannot help seeing that they have in fact very little power of managing the House. Everybody agrees that the aspect of the House of Commons was very different—the number of strange faces; the swagger of O'Connell, walking about incessantly, and making signs to, or talking with, his followers in various parts; the Tories few and scattered; Peel no longer surrounded with a stout band of supporters, but pushed from his usual seat, which is occupied by Cobbett, O'Connell, and the Radicals; he is gone up nearer to the Speaker.

[8] [The first Reformed Parliament met and was formally opened on the 29th of January, 1833. After the election of the Speaker (Manners Sutton) the King delivered his Speech from the Throne on the 5th of February.]

The whole debate turned upon Ireland. O'Connell pronounced a violent but powerful philippic, which Stanley answered very well. Macaulay made one of his brilliant speeches the second night, and Peel spoke the third. It was not possible to make a more dexterous and judicious speech than he did; for finding himself in a very uncomfortable position, he at once placed himself in a good one, and acknowledging that his situation was altogether different from what it had been, he contrived to transfer to himself personally much of the weight and authority which he previously held as the organ and head of a great and powerful party. He pronounced an eulogium of Stanley, declared that his confidence in Government was not augmented, but that he would support them if they would support law and order. The Government were extremely pleased at his speech, though I think not without a secret misgiving that they are likely to be more in his power than is pleasant. But the benefit resulting from the whole is that the Radicals all opposed the Government, while Peel supported them; so that we may hope that a complete line of separation is drawn between the two former, and that the Government will really and boldly take the Conservative side. On the whole, perhaps, this bout may be deemed satisfactory.

February 14th, 1833 {p.354}

[Page Head: CHARACTER OF PEEL.]

The night before last Althorp brought forward his plan of Irish Church Reform, with complete success. He did it well, and Stanley made a very brilliant speech. The House received it with almost unanimous applause, nobody opposing but Inglis and Goulburn, and Peel, in a very feeble speech, which scarcely deserves the name of opposition; it will be of great service to the Government. O'Connell lauded the measure up to the skies; but Sheil said he would bite his tongue off with vexation the next morning for having done so, after he had slept upon it. It was clear that Peel, who is courting the House, and exerting all his dexterity to bring men's minds round to him, saw the stream was too strong for him to go against it, so he made a sort of temporising, moderate, unmeaning speech, which will give him time to determine on his best course, and did not commit him. Poulett Thomson said to me yesterday that Peel's prodigious superiority over everybody in the House was so evident, his talent for debate and thorough knowledge of Parliamentary tactics, gained by twenty years of experience, so commanding, that he must draw men's minds to him, and that he was evidently playing that game, throwing over the ultra-Tories and ingratiating himself with the House and the country. He, in fact, means to open a house to all comers, and make himself necessary and indispensable. Under that placid exterior he conceals, I believe, a boundless ambition, and hatred and jealousy lurk under his professions of esteem and political attachment. His is one of those contradictory characters, containing in it so much of mixed good and evil, that it is difficult to strike an accurate balance between the two, and the acts of his political life are of a corresponding description, of questionable utility and merit, though always marked by great ability. It is very sure that he has been the instrument of great good, or of enormous evil, and apparently more of the latter. He came into life the child and champion of a political system which has been for a long time crumbling to pieces; and if the perils which are produced by its fall are great, they are mainly attributable to the manner in which it was upheld by Peel, and to his want of sagacity, in a wrong estimate of his means of defence and of the force of the antagonist power with which he had to contend. The leading principles of his political conduct have been constantly erroneous, and his dexterity and ability in supporting them have only made the consequences of his errors more extensively pernicious. If we look back through the long course of Peel's life, and enquire what have been the great political measures with which his name is particularly connected, we shall find, first, the return to cash payments, which almost everybody now agrees was a fatal mistake, though it would not be fair to visit him with extraordinary censure for a measure which was sanctioned by almost all the great financial authorities; secondly, opposition to Reform in Parliament and to religious emancipation of every kind, the maintenance of the exclusive system, and support, untouched and unconnected, of the Church, both English and Irish. His resistance to alterations on these heads was conducted with great ability, and for a long time with success; but he was endeavouring to uphold a system which was no longer supportable, and having imbibed in his career much of the liberal spirit of the age, he found himself in a state of no small perplexity between his old connections and his more enlarged propensities. Still he was chained down by the former, and consequently being beaten from all his positions, he was continually obliged to give way, but never did so till rather too late for his own credit and much too late for the interest at stake. Notwithstanding, therefore, the reputation he has acquired, the hold he has had of office, and is probably destined to have again, his political life has been a considerable failure, though not such an one as to render it more probable than not that his future life will be a failure too. He has hitherto been encumbered with embarrassing questions and an unmanageable party. Time has disposed of the first, and he is divorced from the last; if his great experience and talents have a fair field to act upon, he may yet, in spite of his selfish and unamiable character, be a distinguished and successful Minister.



CHAPTER XX.

Appointment of Sir Stratford Canning to the Russian Embassy— Cause of the Refusal—Slavery in the West Indies—The Reformed Parliament—Duke of Wellington's View of Affairs—The Coercion Bill—The Privy Council Bill—Lord Durham made an Earl—Mr. Stanley Secretary for the Colonies—The Russians go to the Assistance of the Porte—Lord Goderich has the Privy Seal, an Earldom, and the Garter—Embarrassments of the Government—The Appeal of Drax v. Grosvenor at the Privy Council—Hobhouse defeated in Westminster—Bill for Negro Emancipation—The Russians on the Bosphorus—Mr. Littleton Chief Secretary for Ireland—Respect shown to the Duke of Wellington—Moral of a 'Book on the Derby'—The Oaks—A Betting Incident—Ascot— Government beaten in the Lords on Foreign Policy—Vote of Confidence in the Commons—Drax v. Grosvenor decided—Lord Eldon's Last Judgment—His Character—Duke of Wellington as Leader of Opposition—West India Affairs—Irish Church Bill— Appropriation Clause—A Fancy Bazaar—The King writes to the Bishops—Local Court Bill—Mirabeau.

February 16th, 1833 {p.357}

Madame de Lieven gave me an account (the day before yesterday) of the quarrel between the two Courts about Stratford Canning. When the present Ministry came in, Nesselrode wrote to Madame de Lieven and desired her to beg that Lord Heytesbury might be left there—'Conservez-nous Heytesbury.' She asked Palmerston and Lord Grey, and they both promised her he should stay. Some time after he asked to be recalled. She wrote word to Nesselrode, and told him that either Adair or Canning would succeed him. He replied, 'Don't let it be Canning; he is a most impracticable man, soupconneux, pointilleux, defiant;' that he had been personally uncivil to the Emperor when he was Grand Duke; in short the plain truth was they would not receive him, and it was therefore desirable somebody, anybody, else should be sent. She told this to Palmerston, and he engaged that Stratford Canning should not be named. Nothing more was done till some time ago, when to her astonishment Palmerston told her that he was going to send Canning to St. Petersburg. She remonstrated, urged all the objections of her Court, his own engagement, but in vain; the discussions between them grew bitter; Palmerston would not give way, and Canning was one day to her horror gazetted. As might have been expected, Nesselrode positively refused to receive him. Durham, who in the meantime had been to Russia and bien comble with civilities, promised that Canning should not go there, trusting he had sufficient influence to prevent it; and since he has been at home it is one of the things he has been most violent and bitter about, because Palmerston will not retract this nomination, and he has the mortification of finding in this instance his own want of power. However, as there have been no discussions on it lately, the Princess still hopes it may blow over, and that some other mission may be found for Canning. At all events it appears a most curious piece of diplomacy to insist upon thrusting upon a Court a man personally obnoxious to the Sovereign and his Minister, and not the best way of preserving harmonious relations or obtaining political advantages. She says, however (and with all her anger she is no bad judge), that Palmerston 'est un tres-petit esprit—lourd, obstine,' &c., and she is astonished how Lady C. with her finesse can be so taken with him.

Lady Cowper has since told me that Madame de Lieven has been to blame in all this business, that Palmerston was provoked with her interference, that her temper had got the better of her, and she had thought to carry it with a high hand, having been used to have her own way, and that he had thought both she and her Court wanted to be taken down a peg; that she had told Nesselrode she could prevent this appointment, and, what had done more harm than anything, she had appealed to Grey against Palmerston, and employed Durham to make a great clamour about it. All this made Palmerston angry, and determined him to punish her, who he thought had meddled more than she ought, and had made the matter personally embarrassing and disagreeable to him.

[Page Head: LORD GREY'S COERCION BILL.]

Last night Lord Grey introduced his coercive measures in an excellent speech, though there are some people who doubt his being able to carry them through the House of Commons. If he can't, he goes of course; and what next? The measures are sufficiently strong, it must be owned—a consomme of insurrection-gagging Acts, suspension of Habeas Corpus, martial law, and one or two other little hards and sharps.[1]

[1] [In the debate on the Address O'Connell had denounced the coercive measures announced in the Speech from the Throne as 'brutal, bloody, and unconstitutional.' But the state of Ireland was so dreadful that it demanded and justified the severest remedies. Lord Grey stated in the House of Lords that between January 1st and December 31st 9,000 crimes had been committed—homicides 242, robberies 1,179, burglaries 401, burnings 568, and so on. The Bill gave the Lord-Lieutenant power to proclaim disturbed districts, to substitute courts-martial for the ordinary courts of justice, to prohibit meetings, and to punish the distributors of seditious papers. Such were the powers which Lord Wellesley described as more formidable to himself than to the people of Ireland, for the greater part of them were never exercised. The Act produced the desired effect. In a year Ireland was pacified; and the abandonment of several of the most important clauses in the Act (contrary to Lord Grey's wishes) was the cause which led to the dissolution of the Ministry in the month of June 1834.]

London, February 22nd, 1833 {p.359}

Dined yesterday with Fortunatus Dwarris, who was counsel to the Board of Health; one of those dinners that people in that class of society put themselves in an agony to give, and generally their guests in as great an agony to partake of. There were Goulburn, Serjeant ditto and his wife, Stephen, &c. Goulburn mentioned a curious thing a propos of slavery. A slave ran away from his estate in Jamaica many years ago, and got to England. He (the man) called at his house when he was not at home, and Goulburn never could afterwards find out where he was. He remained in England, however, gaining his livelihood by some means, till after some years he returned to Jamaica and to the estate, and desired to be employed as a slave again.

Stephen, who is one of the great apostles of emancipation, and who resigned a profession worth L3,000 a year at the Bar for a place of L1,500 in the Colonial Office, principally in order to advance that object, owned that he had never known so great a problem nor so difficult a question to settle. His notion is that compulsory labour may be substituted for slavery, and in some colonies (the new ones, as they are called—Demerara, &c.) he thinks it will not be difficult; in Jamaica he is doubtful, and admits that if this does not answer the slaves will relapse into barbarism, nor is he at all clear that any disorders and evils may not be produced by the effect of desperation on one side and disappointment on the other; still he does not hesitate to go on, but fully admitting the right of the proprietors to ample compensation, and the duty incumbent on the country to give it. If the sentiments of justice and benevolence with which he is actuated were common to all who profess the same opinions, or if the same sagacity and resource which he possesses were likely to be applied to the practical operation of the scheme, the evils which are dreaded and foreseen might be mitigated and avoided; but this is very far from the case, and the evils will, in all probability, more than overbalance the good which humanity aims at effecting; nor is it possible to view the settlement (as it is called, for all changes are settlements now-a-days) of this question without a misgiving that it will only produce some other great topic for public agitation, some great interest to be overturned or mighty change to be accomplished. The public appetite for discussion and legislation has been whetted and is insatiable; the millions of orators and legislators who have sprung up like mushrooms all over the kingdom, the bellowers, the chatterers, the knaves, and the dupes, who make such an universal hubbub, must be fed with fresh victims and sacrifices. The Catholic question was speedily followed by Reform in Parliament, and this has opened a door to anything.

[Page Head: ASPECT OF THE NEW HOUSE OF COMMONS.]

In the meantime the Reformed Parliament has been sitting for a fortnight or so, and begins to manifest its character and pretensions. The first thing that strikes one is its inferiority in point of composition to preceding Houses of Commons, and the presumption, impertinence, and self-sufficiency of the new members. Formerly new members appeared with some modesty and diffidence, and with some appearance of respect for the assembly into which they were admitted; these fellows behave themselves as if they had taken it by storm, and might riot in all the insolence of victory. There exists no party but that of the Government; the Irish act in a body under O'Connell to the number of about forty; the Radicals are scattered up and down without a leader, numerous, restless, turbulent, and bold—Hume, Cobbett, and a multitude such as Roebuck, Faithfull, Buckingham, Major Beauclerck, &c. (most of whom have totally failed in point of speaking)—bent upon doing all the mischief they can and incessantly active; the Tories without a head, frightened, angry, and sulky; Peel without a party, prudent, cautious, and dexterous, playing a deep waiting game of scrutiny and observation. The feelings of these various elements of party, rather than parties, may be thus summed up:—The Radicals are confident and sanguine; the Whigs uneasy; the Tories desponding; moderate men, who belong to no party, but support Government, serious, and not without alarm. There is, in fact, enough to justify alarm, for the Government has evidently no power over the House of Commons, and though it is probable that they will scramble through the session without sustaining any serious defeat, or being reduced to the necessity of any great sacrifice or compromise, they are conscious of their own want of authority and of that sort of command without which no Government has been hitherto deemed secure. The evil of this is that we are now reduced to the alternative of Lord Grey's Government or none at all; and should he be defeated on any great measure, he must either abandon the country to its fate, or consent to carry on the Government upon the condition of a virtual transfer of the executive power to the House of Commons. If this comes to pass the game is up, for this House, like animals who have once tasted blood, if it ever exercises such a power as this, and finds a Minister consenting to hold office on such terms, will never rest till it has acquired all the authority of the Long Parliament and reduced that of the Crown to a mere cypher. It is curious, by-the-bye, that the example of the Long Parliament in a trivial matter has just been adopted, in the sittings of the House at twelve o'clock for the hearing of petitions.

February 27th, 1833 {p.362}

Laid up ever since that dinner at Dwarris's with the gout. Frederick Fitzclarence has been compelled to resign the situation at the Tower which the King gave him; they found it very probable that the House of Commons would refuse to vote the pay of it—a trifle in itself, but indicative of the spirit of the times and the total want of consideration for the King. O'Connell made a speech of such violence at the Trades Union the other day—calling the House of Commons six hundred scoundrels—that there was a great deal of talk about taking it up in Parliament and proposing his expulsion, which, however, they have not had the folly to do. The Irish Bill was to come on last night. The sense of insecurity and uneasiness evidently increases; the Government assumes a high tone, but is not at all certain of its ability to pass the Coercive Bills unaltered, and yesterday there appeared an article in the 'Times' in a style of lofty reproof and severe admonition, which was no doubt as appalling as it was meant to be. This article made what is called a great sensation; always struggling, as this paper does, to take the lead of public opinion and watching all its turns and shifts with perpetual anxiety, it is at once regarded as undoubted evidence of its direction and dreaded for the influence which its powerful writing and extensive sale have placed in its hands. It is no small homage to the power of the press to see that an article like this makes as much noise as the declaration of a powerful Minister or a leader of Opposition could do in either House of Parliament.

[Page Head: DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S VIEW OF AFFAIRS.]

Yesterday morning the Duke of Wellington came here upon some private business, after discussing which he entered upon the state of the country. I told him my view of the condition of the Government and of the House of Commons, and he said, 'You have hit the two points that I have myself always felt so strongly about. I told Lord Grey so long ago, and asked him at the time how he expected to be able to carry on the Government of the country, to which he never could give any answer, except that it would all do very well. However, things are not a bit worse than I always thought they would be. As they are, I mean to support the Government—support them in every way. The first thing I have to look to is to keep my house over my head, and the alternative is between this Government and none at all. I am therefore for supporting the Government, but then there is so much passion, and prejudice, and folly, and vindictive feeling, that it is very difficult to get others to do the same. I hear Peel had only fifty people with him the other night on some question, though they say that there are 150 of that party in the House of Commons. He thinks as ill of the whole thing as possible. [While I am writing Poodle Byng is come in, who tells me what happened last night. Althorp made a very bad speech and a wretched statement; other people spoke, pert and disagreeable, and the debate looked ill till Stanley rose and made one of the finest speeches that were ever heard, pounding O'Connell to dust and attacking him for his 'six hundred scoundrels,' from which he endeavoured to escape by a miserable and abortive explanation. Stanley seems to have set the whole thing to rights, like a great man.]

I told the Duke what Macaulay had said to Denison: 'that if he had had to legislate, he would, instead of this Bill, have suspended the laws for five years in Ireland, given the Lord-Lieutenant's proclamation the force of law, and got the Duke of Wellington to go there.' He seemed very well pleased at this, and said, 'Well, that is the way I governed the provinces on the Garonne in the south of France. I desired the mayors to go on administering the law of the land, and when they asked me in whose name criminal suits should be carried on (which were ordinarily in the name of the Emperor), and if they should be in the name of the King, I said no, that we were treating with the Emperor at Chatillon, and if they put forth the King they would be in a scrape; neither should it be in the Emperor's name, because we did not acknowledge him, but in that of the Allied Powers.' In this I think he was wrong (par parenthese), for Napoleon was acknowledged by all the Powers but us, and we were treating with him, and if he permitted the civil authorities to administer the law as usual, he should have allowed them to administer it in the usual legal form. Their civil administration could not affect any political questions in the slightest degree.

March 4th, 1833 {p.364}

Sir Thomas Hardy told my brother he thought the King would certainly go mad; he was so excitable, loathing his Ministers, particularly Graham, and dying to go to war. He has some of the cunning of madmen, who fawn upon their keepers when looked at by them, and grin at them and shake their fists when their backs are turned; so he is extravagantly civil when his Ministers are with him, and exhibits every mark of aversion when they are away. Peel made an admirable speech on Friday night; they expect a great majority.

March 13th, 1833 {p.364}

The second reading of the Coercive Bill has passed by a great majority after a dull debate, and the other night Althorp deeply offended Peel and the Tories by hurrying on the Church Reform Bill. It was to be printed one day, and the second reading taken two days after. They asked a delay of four or five days, and Althorp refused. He did very wrong; he is either bullied or cajoled into almost anything the Radicals want of this sort, but he is stout against the Tories. The delay is required by decency, but it ought to have been enough that Peel and the others asked it for him to concede it. He ought to soften the asperities which must long survive the battles of last year as much as he can, and avoid shocking what he may consider the prejudices of the vanquished party. It was worse than impolitic; it was stupid and uncourteous, and missing an opportunity of being gracious which he ought to have seized.

[Page Head: LORD BROUGHAM'S PRIVY COUNCIL BILL.]

I have been again worried with a new edition of Brougham's Privy Council Bill,[2] and the difficulty of getting Lord Lansdowne to do anything. This is the way Brougham goes to work:—He resolves to alter; he does not condescend to communicate with the Privy Council, or to consult those who are conversant with its practice, or who have been in the habit of administering justice there; he has not time to think of it himself; he tosses to one of his numerous employes (for he has people without end working for him) his rough notion, and tells him to put it into shape; the satellite goes to work, always keeping in view the increase of the dignity, authority, and patronage of the Chancellor, and careless of the Council, the King, and the usages of the Constitution. What is called the Bill is then, for form's sake, handed over to the Lord President (Lord Lansdowne), with injunctions to let nobody see it, as if he was conspiring against the Council, secure that if he meets with no resistance but what is engendered by Lord Lansdowne's opposition he may enact anything he pleases. Lord Lansdowne sends it to me (a long Act of Parliament), with a request that I will return it 'by the bearer,' with any remarks I may have to make on it. The end is that I am left, quantum impar, to fight this with the Chancellor.

[2] [This was the Bill for the establishment of a Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, which eventually became the Act 3 & 4 Will. IV., cap. 41, and definitively created that tribunal. Mr. Greville objected to several of the provisions of the measure, because he regarded them as an unnecessary interference of Parliament with the authority of the Sovereign in his Council. The Sovereign might undoubtedly have created a Committee of the judicial members of the Privy Council: but the Bill went further, and by extending and defining the power of the Judicial Committee as a Court of Appeal it undoubtedly proved a very useful and important measure.]

March 15th, 1833 {p.365}

Ministerial changes are going on; Durham is out, and to be made an earl. Yesterday his elevation was known, and it is amusing enough that the same day an incident should have occurred in the House of Lords exhibiting in a good light the worthiness of the subject, and how much he merits it at the hands of Lord Grey.

* * * * *

March 29th, 1833 {p.365}

Lord Goderich is Privy Seal,[3] and Stanley Secretary for the Colonies, after much trouble. Last year a positive pledge was given to Stanley that he should not meet Parliament again but as Secretary of State. It was not, however, specified who was to make room for him. The Cabinet settled that it should be Goderich, when Durham went out, and Palmerston was charged with the office of breaking it to Goderich with the offer of an earldom by way of gilding the pill, but Goderich would not hear of it, said it would look like running away from the Slave question, and, in short, flatly refused. Stanley threatened to resign if he was not promoted, and in this dilemma the Duke of Richmond (who was going to Windsor) persuaded Lord Grey to let him lay the case before the King, and inform him that if this arrangement was not made the Government must be broken up. He did so, and the King acquiesced, and at the same time a similar representation was made to Goderich, who after a desperate resistance knocked under, and said that if it must be so he would yield, but only to the King's express commands.

[3] [Down to this time Lord Goderich had been Secretary for the Colonial Department in Lord Grey's Government.]

March 30th, 1833 {p.366}

Saw Madame de Lieven yesterday, who told me the story of the late business at St. Petersburg. The Sultan after the battle of Koniah applied to the Emperor of Russia for succour, who ordered twelve sail of the line and 30,000 men to go to the protection of Constantinople. At the same time General Mouravieff was sent to Constantinople, with orders to proceed to Alexandria and inform the Pacha that the Emperor could only look upon him as a rebel, that he would not suffer the Ottoman Empire to be overturned, and that if Ibrahim advanced 'il aurait affaire a l'Empereur de Russie.' Orders were accordingly sent to Ibrahim to suspend his operations, and Mouravieff returned to Constantinople. Upon the demand for succour by the Sultan, and the Emperor's compliance with it, notification was made to all the Courts, and instructions were given to the Russian commanders to retire as soon as the Sultan should have no further occasion for their aid. So satisfactory was this that Lord Grey expressed the greatest anxiety that the Russian armament should arrive in time to arrest the progress of the Egyptians. They did arrive—at least the fleet did—and dropped anchor under the Seraglio. At this juncture arrived Admiral Roussin in a ship of war, and as Ambassador of France. He immediately informed the Sultan that the interposition of Russia was superfluous, that he would undertake to conclude a treaty, and to answer for the acquiescence of the Pacha, and he sent a project one article of which was that the Russian fleet should instantly withdraw. To this proposition the Sultan acceded, and without waiting for the Pacha's confirmation he notified to the Russian Ambassador that he had no longer any wish for the presence of the Russian fleet, and they accordingly weighed anchor and sailed away. This is all that is known of the transaction, but Madame de Lieven was loud and vehement about the insolence of Roussin; she said the Emperor would demand 'une satisfaction eclatante'—'le rappel et le desaveu de l'amiral Roussin,' and that if this should be refused the Russian Ambassador would be ordered to quit Paris. She waits with great anxiety to see the end of the business, for on it appears to depend the question of peace or war with France. She said that the day before Namik went away intelligence of this event arrived, which Palmerston communicated to him. The Turk heard it very quietly, and then only said, 'Et ou etait l'Angleterre dans tout ceci?'

[Page Head: PRECARIOUS STATE OF THE GOVERNMENT.]

I have heard to-night the Goderich version of his late translation. He had agreed to remain in the Cabinet without an office, but Lord Grey insisted on his taking the Privy Seal, and threatened to resign if he did not; he was at last bullied into acquiescence, and when he had his audience of the King his Majesty offered him anything he had to give. He said he had made the sacrifice to please and serve him, and would take nothing. An earldom—he refused; the Bath—ditto; the Garter—that he said he would take. It was then discovered that he was not of rank sufficient, when he said he would take the earldom in order to qualify himself for the Garter, and so it stands. There is no Garter vacant, and one supernumerary already, and Castlereagh and Lord North, viscounts, and Sir Robert Walpole (all Commoners) had blue ribands!

London, April 28th, 1833 {p.368}

Came to town last night from Newmarket, and the intervening week at Buckenham. Nothing but racing and hawking; a wretched life—that is, a life of amusement, but very unprofitable and discreditable to anybody who can do better things. Of politics I know nothing during this interval, but on coming to town find all in confusion, and everybody gaping for 'what next.' Government was beaten on the Malt Tax, and Lord Grey proposed to resign; the Tories are glad that the Government is embarrassed, no matter how, the supporters sorry and repentant, so that it is very clear the matter will be patched up; they won't budge, and will probably get more regular support for the future. Perhaps Althorp will go, but where to find a Chancellor of the Exchequer will be the difficulty. Poulett Thomson wants it, but they will not dare commit the finances of the country to him, so we go scrambling on 'du jour la journee.' Nobody knows what is to happen next—no confidence, no security, great talk of a property tax, to which, I suppose, after wriggling about, we shall at last come.

May 2nd, 1833 {p.368}

The Government affair is patched up, and nobody goes but Hobhouse,[4] who thought fit to resign both his seat in Parliament and his office, thereby creating another great embarrassment, which can only be removed by his re-election and re-appointment, and then, what a farce!

[4] [Sir John Hobhouse, who had consented to take the Irish Secretaryship a month before, resigned now because he felt unable to oppose a resolution for the abolition of the window duties; and resigning office he resigned his seat for Westminster also, and was not re-elected. See in the 'Edinburgh Review,' April 1871 (No. 272), an account of this transaction.]

[Page Head: EMBARRASSMENT OF THE GOVERNMENT.]

There were two great majorities in the House of Commons the night before last. The King was all graciousness and favour to Lord Grey, and so they are set up again, and fancy themselves stronger than before. But although everybody (except the fools) wished them to be re-established, it was evident that this was only because, at this moment, the time is not ripe for a change, for they inspired no interest either individually or collectively. It was easy to see that the Government has no consideration, and that people are getting tired of their blunders and embarrassments, and begin to turn their eyes to those who are more capable, and know something of the business of Government—to Peel and to Stanley, for the former, in spite of his cold, calculating selfishness and duplicity, is the ablest man there is, and we must take what we can get, and accept services without troubling ourselves about the motives of those who supply them. It must come to this conclusion unless the reign of Radicalism and the authority of the Humes 'et hoc genus omne' is to be substituted. That the present Government loses ground every day is perfectly clear, and at the same time that the fruits of the Reform Bill become more lamentably apparent. The scrape Government lately got into was owing partly to the votes that people were obliged to give to curry favour with their constituents, and partly to negligence and carelessness in whipping in. Hobhouse's resignation is on account of his pledges, and because he is forced to pledge himself on the hustings he finds himself placed in a situation which compels him to save his honour and consistency by embarrassing the public service to the greatest degree at a very critical time. Men go on asking one another how is it possible the country can be governed in this manner, and nobody can reply.

Since I have been out of town the appeal against the Chancellor's judgment in the Drax (lunacy) case has been heard at the Privy Council, and will be finally determined on Saturday.[5] Two years have nearly elapsed since that case was lodged, and the Chancellor has always found pretexts for getting the hearing postponed; at length the parties became so clamorous that it was necessary to fix a day. He then endeavoured to pack a committee, and spoke to Lord Lansdowne about summoning Lord Plunket, Lord Lyndhurst, and the Vice-Chancellor, but Leach, who hates Brougham, and is particularly nettled at his having reversed some of his judgments, bestirred himself, and represented to Lord Lansdowne the absolute necessity (in a case of such consequence) of having all the ex-Chancellors to hear it. Plunket was gone to Ireland, so the Committee consisted of the Lord President, the Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Master of the Rolls, Lords Eldon, Lyndhurst, and Manners. They say the argument was very able—Sugden in support of the Chancellor's judgment, and Pemberton against it; they expect it will be reversed. Leach, foolishly enough, by question and observation, exhibited a strong bias against the Chancellor, who never said a word, and appeared very calm and easy, but with rage in his heart, for he was indignant at these Lords having been summoned (as his secretary told Lennard[6]), and said 'he was sure it was all Leach's doing.' What a man! how wonderful! how despicable! carrying into the administration of justice the petty vanity, personal jealousy and pique, and shuffling arts that would reflect ridicule and odium on a silly woman of fashion. He has smuggled his Privy Council Bill through the House of Lords without the slightest notice or remark.

[5] [An appeal lies to the King in Council from orders of the Lord Chancellor in lunacy, but there are very few examples of the prosecution of appeals of this nature. This case of Drax v. Grosvenor, which is reported in 'Knapp's Privy Council Cases,' was therefore one of great peculiarity. The Bill constituting the Judicial Committee had not at this time become law; this appeal was therefore heard by a Committee of the Lords of the Council, to which any member of the Privy Council might be summoned. Care was taken that the highest legal authorities should be present. It was the last time Lord Eldon sat in a court of law. Lord Brougham, the Chancellor, sat on the Committee, although the appeal was brought from an order made by himself: this practice had not been uncommon in the House of Lords, but it had not been the practice of the Privy Council, where indeed the case could seldom arise.]

[6] [John Barrett Lennard, Esq., was Chief Clerk of the Council Office.]

May 16th, 1833 {p.370}

On coming to town found the Westminster election just over, and Evans returned. They would not hear Hobhouse, and pelted him and his friends. No Secretary for Ireland is to be found, for the man must be competent, and sure of re-election. Few are the first and none the last. Hobhouse is generally censured for having put Government in this great difficulty, but the Tories see it all with a sort of grim satisfaction, and point at it as a happy illustration of the benefits of the Reform Bill. I point too, but I don't rejoice.

[Page Head: SLAVE EMANCIPATION.]

At the same time with Hobhouse's defeat came forth Stanley's plan for slave emancipation, which produced rage and fury among both West Indians and Saints, being too much for the former and not enough for the latter, and both announced their opposition to it. Practical men declare that it is impossible to carry it into effect, and that the details are unmanageable. Even the Government adherents do not pretend that it is a good and safe measure, but the best that could be hit off under the circumstances; these circumstances being the old motive, 'the people will have it.' The night before last Stanley developed his plan in the House of Commons in a speech of three hours, which was very eloquent, but rather disappointing. He handled the preliminary topics of horrors of slavery and colonial obstinacy and misconduct with all the vigour and success that might have been expected, but when he came to his measure he failed to show how it was to be put in operation and to work. The peroration and eulogy on Wilberforce were very brilliant. Howick had previously announced his intention of opposing Stanley, and accordingly he did so in a speech of considerable vehemence which lasted two hours. He was not, however, well received; his father and mother had in vain endeavoured to divert him from his resolution; but though they say his speech was clever, he has damaged himself by it. His plan is immediate emancipation.[7]

[7] [The result proved that Lord Howick was right. The apprenticeship system proposed by Lord Stanley was carried, but failed in execution, and was eventually abandoned.]

While such is the state of things here—enormous interests under discussion, great disquietude and alarm, no feeling of security, no confidence in the Government, and a Parliament that inspires fear rather than hope—matters abroad seem to be no better managed than they are at home. It is remarkable that the business in the East has escaped with so little animadversion, for there never was a fairer object of attack. While France has been vapouring, and we have been doing nothing at all, Russia has established her own influence in Turkey, and made herself virtually mistress of the Ottoman Empire. At a time when our interests required that we should be well represented, and powerfully supported, we had neither an Ambassador nor a fleet in the Mediterranean; and because Lord Ponsonby is Lord Grey's brother-in-law he has been able with impunity to dawdle on months after months at Naples for his pleasure, and leave affairs at Constantinople to be managed or mismanaged by a Charge d'Affaires who is altogether incompetent.

May 19th, 1833 {p.372}

[Page Head: RESPECT SHOWN TO WELLINGTON.]

They have found a Secretary for Ireland in the person of Littleton,[8] which shows to what shifts they are put. He is rich, which is his only qualification, being neither very able nor very popular. The West India question is postponed. The Duke of Wellington told me that he thought it would pass away for this time, and that all parties would be convinced of the impracticability of any of the plans now mooted. I said that nothing could do away the mischief that had been done by broaching it. He thought 'the mischief might be avoided;' but then these people do nothing to avoid any mischief. I was marvellously struck (we rode together through St. James's Park) with the profound respect with which the Duke was treated, everybody we met taking off their hats to him, everybody in the park rising as he went by, and every appearance of his inspiring great reverence. I like this symptom, and it is the more remarkable because it is not popularity, but a much higher feeling towards him. He has forfeited his popularity more than once; he has taken a line in politics directly counter to the popular bias; but though in moments of excitement he is attacked and vilified (and his broken windows, which I wish he would mend, still preserve a record of the violence of the mob), when the excitement subsides there is always a returning sentiment of admiration and respect for him, kept alive by the recollection of his splendid actions, such as no one else ever inspired. Much, too, as I have regretted and censured the enormous errors of his political career (at times), I believe that this sentiment is in a great degree produced by the justice which is done to his political character, sometimes mistaken, but always high-minded and patriotic, and never mean, false, or selfish. If he has aimed at power, and overrated his own capacity for wielding it, it has been with the purest intentions and the most conscientious views. I believe firmly that no man had ever at heart to a greater degree the honour and glory of his country; and hereafter, when justice will be done to his memory, and his character and conduct be scanned with impartial eyes, if his capacity for government appears unequal to the exigencies of the times in which he was placed at the head of affairs, the purity of his motives and the noble character of his ambition will be amply acknowledged.

[8] [The Rt. Hon. E. J. Littleton, M.P. for Staffordshire, and afterwards first Lord Hatherton. It was Lord John Russell who advised Lord Grey to make Littleton Irish Secretary. He told me so in May 1871, but added, 'I think I made a mistake.' The appointment was wholly unsolicited and unexpected by Mr. Littleton himself, who happened to be laid up at the time by an accident. On the receipt of the letter from Lord Grey offering him the Secretaryship of Ireland, and requesting him to take it, Mr. Littleton consulted Mr. Fazakerly, who was of opinion that he ought to accept the offer. This therefore he did, though not, as I know from his own journals, without great diffidence and hesitation; and he intimated to Lord Grey that he would only retain his office until some other man could be found to accept it.]

The Duke of Orleans is here, and very well received by the Court and the world. He is good-looking, dull, has good manners and little conversation, goes everywhere, and dances all night. At the ball at Court the Queen waltzed with the two Dukes of Orleans and Brunswick.

Peel compelled old Cobbett to bring on his motion for getting him erased from the Privy Council, which Cobbett wished to shirk from. He gave him a terrible dressing, and it all went off for Peel in the most flattering way. He gains every day more authority and influence in the House of Commons. It must end in Peel and Stanley, unless everything ends.

May 27th, 1833 {p.373}

[Page Head: ANECDOTE OF THE DERBY.]

All last week at Epsom, and now, thank God, these races are over. I have had all the trouble and excitement and worry, and have neither won nor lost; nothing but the hope of gain would induce me to go through this demoralising drudgery, which I am conscious reduces me to the level of all that is most disreputable and despicable, for my thoughts are eternally absorbed by it. Jockeys, trainers, and blacklegs are my companions, and it is like dram-drinking; having once entered upon it I cannot leave it off, though I am disgusted with the occupation all the time. Let no man who has no need, who is not in danger of losing all he has, and is not obliged to grasp at every chance, make a book on the Derby. While the fever it excites is raging, and the odds are varying, I can neither read, nor write, nor occupy myself with anything else. I went to the Oaks on Wednesday, where Lord Stanley kept house for the first, and probably (as the house is for sale) for the last time. It is a very agreeable place, with an odd sort of house built at different times and by different people; but the outside is covered with ivy and creepers, which is pretty, and there are two good living-rooms in it. Besides this, there is an abundance of grass and shade; it has been for thirty or forty years the resort of all our old jockeys, and is now occupied by the sporting portion of the Government. We had Lord Grey and his daughter, Duke and Duchess of Richmond, Lord and Lady Errol, Althorp, Graham, Uxbridge, Charles Grey, Duke of Grafton, Lichfield, and Stanley's brothers. It passed off very well—racing all the morning, an excellent dinner, and whist and blind hookey in the evening. It was curious to see Stanley. Who would believe they beheld the orator and statesman, only second, if second, to Peel in the House of Commons, and on whom the destiny of the country perhaps depends? There he was, as if he had no thoughts but for the turf, full of the horses, interest in the lottery, eager, blunt, noisy, good-humoured, 'has meditans nugas et totus in illis;' at night equally devoted to the play, as if his fortune depended on it. Thus can a man relax whose existence is devoted to great objects and serious thoughts. I had considerable hopes of winning the Derby, but was beaten easily, my horse not being good. An odd circumstance occurred to me before the race. Payne told me in strict confidence that a man who could not appear on account of his debts, and who had been, much connected with turf robberies, came to him, and entreated him to take the odds for him to L1,000 about a horse for the Derby, and deposited a note in his hand for the purpose. He told him half the horses were made safe, and that it was arranged this one was to win. After much delay, and having got his promise to lay out the money, he told him it was my horse. He did back the horse for the man for L700, but the same person told him if my horse could not win Dangerous would, and he backed the latter likewise for L100, by which his friend was saved, and won L800. He did not tell me his name, nor anything more, except that his object was, if he had won, to pay his creditors, and he had authorised Payne to retain the money, if he won it, for that purpose.

We heard, while at the Oaks, that M. Dedel had signed the convention between France, England, and Holland, on which all the funds rose. The King of Holland's ratification was still to be got, and many people will not believe in that till they see it.

June 3rd, 1833 {p.375}

The Government are in high spirits. The Saints have given in their adhesion to Stanley's plan, and they expect to carry the West India question. The Bank measure has satisfied the directors, and most people, except Peel. The Duke of Wellington told me he was very well satisfied, but that they had intended to make better terms with the Bank, and he thought they should have done so. Melbourne says, 'Now that we are as much hated as they were, we shall stay in for ever.'

As I came into town (having come by the steamboat from Margate very luxuriously) on Saturday I found a final meeting at the Council Office to dispose of the lunacy case. It was so late when Horne finished his reply that I thought there was no chance of any discussion, and I did not go in; but I met the Master of the Rolls afterwards, who told me they had delivered their opinions, Lord Eldon cautiously, he himself 'broadly,' which I will be bound he did (for he hates Brougham), and that, though no judgment had been yet given, the Chancellor's decree would be reversed; so that after all Brougham's wincing and wriggling to this he has been forced to submit at last.

London, June 11th, 1833 {p.376}

At a place called Buckhurst all last week for the Ascot races; a party at Lichfield's, racing all the morning, then eating and drinking, and play at night. I may say, with more truth than anybody, 'Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor.' The weather was charming, the course crowded, the King received decently. His household is now so ill managed that his grooms were drunk every day, and one man (who was sober) was killed going home from the races. Goodwin told me nobody exercised any authority, and the consequence was that the household all ran riot.

[Page Head: TORY BLUNDERS.]

The first day of the races arrived the news that the Duke of Wellington, after making a strong muster, had beaten the Government in the House of Lords on the question of Portuguese neutrality and Don Miguel, that Lord Grey had announced that he considered it a vote of censure, and threw out a sort of threat of resigning. He and Brougham (after a Cabinet) went down to the King. The King was very much annoyed at this fresh dilemma into which the Tories had brought him, and consented to whatever Lord Grey required. In the meantime the House of Commons flew to arms, and Colonel Dawes gave notice of a motion of confidence in Ministers upon their foreign policy. This was carried by an immense majority after a weak debate, in which some very cowardly menaces were thrown out against the Bishops, and this settled the question. Ministers did not resign, no Peers were made, and everything goes on as before. It has been, however, a disastrous business. How the Duke of Wellington could take this course after the conversation I had with him in this room, when he told me he would support the Government because he wished it to be strong, I can't conceive. At all events he seems resolved that his Parliamentary victories should be as injurious as his military ones were glorious to his country. Some of his friends say that he was provoked by Lord Grey's supercilious answer to him the other day, when he said he knew nothing of what was going on but from what he read in the newspapers, others that he 'feels so very strongly' about Portugal, others that he cannot manage the Tories, and that they were determined to fight; in short, that he has not the same authority as leader of a party that he had as general of an army, for nobody would have forced him to fight the battle of Salamanca or Vittoria if he had not fancied it himself. The effect, however, has been this: the House of Lords has had a rap on the knuckles from the King, their legislative functions are practically in abeyance, and his Majesty is more tied than ever to his Ministers. The House of Lords is paralysed; it exists upon sufferance, and cannot venture to throw out or materially alter any Bill (such as the India, Bank, Negro, Church Reform, &c.) which may come up to it without the certainty of being instantly swamped, and the measures, however obnoxious, crammed down its throat. This Government has lost ground in public opinion, they were daily falling lower, and these predestinated idiots come and bolster them up just when they most want it. Tavistock acknowledged to me that they were unpopular, and that this freak had been of vast service to them; consequently they are all elated to the greatest degree. The Tories are sulky and crestfallen; moderate men are vexed, disappointed, grieved; and the Radicals stand grinning by, chuckling at the sight of the Conservatives (at least those who so call themselves, and those who must be so really) cutting each others' throats.

[Page Head: LORD ELDON'S GREAT CAREER.]

On Saturday, the day after I came back, I found a final meeting at the Council Office on the lunacy case, the appeal of Grosvenor against Drax. There were Lord Lansdowne, the Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Master of the Rolls, Lord Manners, Lord Eldon, and Lord Lyndhurst. The rule is that the President of the Council collects the opinions and votes, beginning with the junior Privy Councillor. This was the Chancellor,[9] who made a sort of apology for his judgment, stating that he had made the order just after two or three very flagrant cases of a similar description had been brought under his notice, and then he went into this case, and endeavoured to show that there was fraud (and intentional fraud) on the part of the Grosvenors, and he maintained, without insisting on, and very mildly, his own former view of the case. Leach then made a speech strongly against the judgment, and Lord Eldon made a longish speech, very clear, and very decided against it, interlarded with professions of his 'sincere' respect for the person who delivered the judgment. The Chancellor did not reply to Lord Eldon, but put some questions—some hypothetical, and some upon parts of the case itself—which, together with some remarks, brought on a discussion between him and Leach, in which the latter ended by lashing himself into a rage. 'My Lord,' said he to the Chancellor, 'we talk too much, and we don't stick to the point.' Brougham put on one of his scornful smiles, and in reply to something (I forget what) that the Vice-Chancellor said he dropped in his sarcastic tone that he would do so and so 'if his Honour would permit.' For a moment I thought there would be a breeze, but it ended without any vote, in the adoption of a form of reversal suggested by Lord Eldon, which left it to the option of the respondent to institute other proceedings if he should think fit. Afterwards all was harmony. Eldon seemed tolerably fresh, feeble, but clear and collected. He was in spirits about the dinner which had just been given him by the Templars, at which he was received with extraordinary honours. He said he hoped never to be called to the Council Board again, and this was probably the last occasion on which he will have to appear in a judicial capacity. It is remarkable that his last act should be to reverse a judgment of Brougham's, Brougham being Chancellor and himself nothing. I could not help looking with something like emotion at this extraordinary old man, and reflecting upon his long and laborious career, which is terminating gently and by almost insensible gradations, in a manner more congenial to a philosophic mind than to an ambitious spirit. As a statesman and a politician he has survived and witnessed the ruin of his party and the subversion of those particular institutions to which he tenaciously clung, and which his prejudices or his wisdom made him think indispensable to the existence of the Constitution. As an individual his destiny has been happier, for he has preserved the strength of his body and the vigour of his mind far beyond the ordinary period allotted to man, he is adorned with honours and blessed with wealth sufficient for the aspirations of pride and avarice, and while the lapse of time has silenced the voice of envy, and retirement from office has mitigated the rancour of political hostility, his great and acknowledged authority as a luminary of the law shines forth with purer lustre. He enjoys, perhaps, the most perfect reward of his long life of labour and study—a foretaste of posthumous honour and fame. He has lived to see his name venerated and his decisions received with profound respect, and he is departing in peace, with the proud assurance that he has left to his country a mighty legacy of law and secured to himself an imperishable fame.

[9] [This must be a mistake. The Chancellor takes rank in the Privy Council after the Lord President and before everyone else. Lord Brougham was junior Privy Councillor in mere seniority, but his office gave him rank over the others present. His opinion was probably taken first out of compliment to him, as he had made the order under review.]

June 15th, 1833 {p.379}

The day before yesterday I had occasion to see the Duke of Wellington about the business in which we are joint trustees, and when we had done I said, 'Well, that business in the House of Lords turned out ill the other day.' 'No; do you think so?' he said, and then he went into the matter. He said that he was compelled to make the motion by the answer Lord Grey gave to his question a few nights before; that his party in the House of Lords would not be satisfied without dividing—they had been impatient to attack the Government, and were not to be restrained; that on the question itself they were right; that so far from his doing harm to the Government, if they availed themselves wisely of the defeat they might turn it to account in the House of Commons, and so far it was of use to them, as it afforded a convincing proof to their supporters that the House of Lords might be depended upon for good purposes, and they might demand of their supporters in the other House that they should enable them to carry good measures, and they keep the House of Commons in harmony with the House of Lords. He said the Government would make no Peers, and that they could not; that the Tories were by no means frightened or disheartened, and meant to take the first opportunity of showing fight again; in short, he seemed not dissatisfied with what had already occurred, and resolved to pursue the same course. He said the Tories were indignant at the idea of being compelled to keep quiet, and that if they were to be swamped the sooner it was done the better, and that they would not give up their right to deal with any question they thought fit from any motive of expediency whatever.