Taylor's 'Philip van Artevelde'--Goodwood--Earl Bathurst's
Death--Death of Mrs. Arbuthnot--Overtures to O'Connell--Irish
Tithe Bill--Theodore Hook's Improvisation--Lord Westmeath's
Case in the Privy Council--First Council of Lord Melbourne's
Government and Prorogation--Brougham's Vagaries--Lord Durham's
Exclusion--The Edinburgh Dinner--Windsor and Meiningen--Spencer
Perceval--Lord Grey's Retirement--The Westmeath Case again--The
Queen's Return--Melbourne and Tom Young--Holland House--
Reflections--Conversation on the Poets--Miscellaneous Chat--
Lord Melbourne's Literary Attainments--Lord Holland's Anecdotes
of Great Orators--Execution of Charles I.--Lord Melbourne's
Opinion of Henry VIII.--The 'Times' attacks Lord Brougham--His
Tour in Scotland--His Unpopularity--Cowper's Secret--Canning on
Reform--Lord Melbourne on Palmerston and Brougham--Canning and
Brougham in 1827--Senior--Lord Melbourne and the Benthamites--
His Theology--Spanish Eloquence--The Harley Papers--The Turf--
Death of Lord Spencer--The Westmeath Case heard--Law
Appointments--Bickersteth--Louis Philippe's Position.
July 23rd, 1834 {p.114}
Brougham spoke for four hours on the Poor Law Bill on Monday, and
made a luminous speech; Alvanley, to people's amusement, spoke,
and against the Bill; he spoke tolerably well--a grave speech and
got compliments.
July 24th, 1834 {p.114}
Read Reeves' 'History of English Law,' finished Henry Taylor's
'Van Artevelde,' and read 250 lines of Virgil. 'Philip van
Artevelde' is a poem of extraordinary merit, and the offspring of
a vigorous and independent mind. The author, who is my particular
friend, and for whom I have a sincere regard and a great
admiration, took his work to Murray, who gave it to Lockhart to
read. Lockhart advised Murray not to publish it, at least at his
own risk, but he bestowed great encomiums on the work, and urged
Taylor to publish it himself. He did so, without much expectation
that it would be popular, and has been agreeably surprised to
find that in a short space of time a second edition is called
for. With the vivacity of a sanguine disposition, and a
confidence in the sterling merits of his poem, he now believes
that edition will follow edition like wave upon wave, in which I
fear he will be disappointed. [When the first edition was all
sold, and a second called for, he made up his account with his
publisher, and the balance was L37 _against_ him.--November
29th.]
August 5th, 1834 {p.115}
At Goodwood for the races, so read nothing except half of
Jacquemont's Letters and a little book I picked up, the 'History
of the Grand Vizier Coprogli;' called to town on Wednesday last
for a Council, to swear in Mulgrave Privy Seal; went to Petworth
on my way for one night. Stanley was at Goodwood, absorbed in
racing, billiards, and what not; nobody would have guessed that
all this rough and rustic gaiety covered ambition, eloquence, and
powers which must make him one of the most eminent men, though
his reputation is not what it was.
[Page Head: DEATH AND CHARACTER OF LORD BATHURST.]
While I was there news came of Lord Bathurst's death. He was a
very amiable man and with a good understanding, though his
talents were far from brilliant, a High Churchman and a High
Tory, but a cool politician, a bad speaker, a good writer,
greatly averse to changes, but unwillingly acquiescing in many.
He was nervous and reserved, with a good deal of humour, and
habitually a jester. His conversation was generally a series of
jokes, and he rarely discussed any subject but in a ludicrous
vein. His conduct to Napoleon justly incurred odium, for although
he was only one of many, he was the Minister through whom the
orders of Government passed, and he suffered the principal share
of the reproach which was thrown upon the Cabinet for their rude
and barbarous treatment of the Emperor at St. Helena. He had not
a lively imagination, and his feelings were not excited by the
contemplation of such a striking example of fallen greatness. I
was Lord Bathurst's private secretary for several years, but so
far from feeling any obligation to him, I always consider his
mistaken kindness in giving me that post as the source of all my
misfortunes and the cause of my present condition. He never
thought fit to employ me, never associated me with the interests
and the business of his office, and consequently abandoned me at
the age of eighteen to that life of idleness and dissipation from
which I might have been saved had he felt that my future
prospects in life, my character and talents, depended in great
measure upon the direction which was at that moment given to my
mind. He would probably have made me a Tory (which I should
hardly have remained), but I should have become a man of
business, and of the antagonist tastes which divided my mind that
for literature and employment would have got the better of that
for amusement and idleness, instead, as unfortunately happened,
of the latter prevailing over the former. Though I knew Lord
Bathurst so long, and was his private secretary for some years,
and his family and mine have always been so intimate, I had no
real intimacy with him. From what I have learnt from others I am
disposed to rate his abilities more highly than the world has
done. He was the friend and devoted admirer of Pitt, and a
regular Tory of the old school, who felt that evil days had come
upon him in his old age. When he left office with the Duke of
Wellington he resolved upon finally quitting public life, and let
what might happen, never to take office again. On coming to town
yesterday I heard of another death--Mrs. Arbuthnot, after a short
illness. The Duke of Wellington, with whom she had lived in the
most intimate relations for many years, evinced a good deal of
feeling, but he is accused of insensibility because he had the
good taste and sense to smooth his brow and go to the House of
Lords with a cheerful aspect. She was not a clever woman, but she
was neither dull nor deficient, and very prudent and silent.
August 6th, 1834 {p.116}
To my office, then to the House of Lords and heard a discussion
on foreign politics; not very amusing; Melbourne not so good as
Grey would have been. The Duke spoke, but he looked very ill.
Walked from the House with Lord Carnarvon, who is an intelligent
man, but a great alarmist and very desponding; he thinks we are
going on step by step to an utter subversion of all interests and
institutions.
August 7th, 1834 {p.117}
[Page Head: IRISH TITHE BILL.]
Yesterday I met the Duke of Wellington, who talked to me of Mrs.
Arbuthnot; I walked away from my office with Duncannon, who told
me that O'Connell's amendment in the Tithe Bill met with his
concurrence (and in fact, though he did not exactly say as much,
his connivance). He said he was sure this Bill was the only
chance for the Irish Church, which he was very anxious to save
and support; expressed great anxiety to make it up with O'Connell
by giving him a great judicial situation, is convinced he is
sincere (at the moment) in all he says, but that he is so vain
and excitable and ambitious that when he returns to Ireland he
forgets all he has promised or professed; the demon of agitation
regains the ascendant, and he bursts into all those excesses
which have made him so odious and formidable; but there is no
chance of any arrangement with him, for the majority of the
Government would not hear of it. I dined at the 'Travellers;'
walked to a fire in Edward Street, where I amused myself with the
strange figures and groups, the glare, bustle, and noise. There
was Duncannon again, a Secretary of State jostling and jostled in
the mob.
August 12th, 1834 {p.117}
On Saturday to Hillingdon, and back yesterday; passed the night
at the House of Lords, to hear the debate on the Irish Tithe
Bill.[1] At a meeting at Apsley House the Tory Lords came to an
unanimous resolution to throw out the Bill, and at one or two
meetings at Lambeth the bishops agreed to do the same. The debate
was heavy; Melbourne very unlike Lord Grey, whose forte was
leading the House of Lords and making speeches on such occasions.
Ellenborough spoke the best, I think. I hardly ever heard such
unbroken fluency, and a good deal of _stuff_, too, in his speech.
Ellice and Spring Rice both told me that this decision was the
most fatal and most important that had occurred for years; the
latter said that no tithe would be paid, but that there would be
no _active_ resistance. Such tithe property as could be seized
would not be sold, because there would be no purchasers for it.
One thing is clear to me, that those Tories who are always
bellowing 'revolution' and 'spoliation,' and who talk of the
gradual subversion of every institution and the imminent peril in
which all our establishments are placed, do not really believe
one word of what they say, and, instead of being oppressed with
fear, they are buoyed up with delusive confidence and courage;
for if they did indeed believe that the Church--the Church of
Ireland especially--was in danger, and that its preservation was
the one paramount desideratum, they would gladly avert, as far as
they might, that danger by a compromise involving a very small
(if any) sacrifice of principle, and which would secure to the
Irish clergy, as far as human prudence, legislative sanction, and
the authority of law can secure it, a permanent and a competent
provision, free from the danger and the odium which have for a
long time past embittered the existence of every clergyman in the
country. It is a curious speculation to see what the effect will
be of this vote practically in Ireland on the condition of the
clergy, and upon public opinion here.
[1] [The Irish Tithe Bill was thrown out by the House of
Lords by 189 to 122.]
It is difficult to understand why the Lords did not alter the
Bill in Committee and restore it to its original state, that
which Ellenborough said he would not have opposed, and which had
been already sanctioned by a great majority of the House of
Commons upon the report of a Committee. If they had done this,
either the Bill must have passed in this less obnoxious shape or
the odium of its rejection would have been thrown upon the
Commons, and the Lords would undoubtedly have had an excellent
case to present to the country. But if there is a wall they are
sure to run their heads against it, and if there is none they
build one up for the purpose. What puzzles me most is the
opposition of the clergy; they are the parties most immediately
and most deeply interested in this Bill, and yet the great
majority of them appear to be opposed _totis viribus_ to it.
August 13th, 1834 {p.118}
[Page Head: THEODORE HOOK.]
Dined at Roehampton yesterday with Farquhar. Mrs. Norton and Mrs.
Blackwood and Theodore Hook dined there among others. After
dinner he displayed his extraordinary talent of improvisation,
which I had never heard but once before, and then he happened not
to be in the vein. Last night he was very brilliant. Each lady
gave him a subject, such as the 'Goodwood Cup,' the 'Tithe Bill;'
one 'could not think of anything,' when he dashed off and sang
stanzas innumerable, very droll, with ingenious rhymes and
excellent hits, 'his eye begetting occasion for his excellent
wit,' for at every word of interruption or admiration, every look
or motion, he indulged in a digression, always coming back to one
of the themes imposed upon him. It is a _tour de force_, in which
I believe he stands alone, and it is certainly wonderfully well
worth hearing and uncommonly amusing.
August 14th, 1834 {p.119}
Yesterday there was a bother with the Chancellor about Lord
Westmeath's case pending before the Privy Council.[2] He took it
into his head (probably having been got at by Lady Westmeath or
some of her friends) to have it decided forthwith, and sent to
desire a Committee might be convened. Westmeath's counsel was out
of town; Follett, whom he relies on, is on the Northern Circuit,
but his other counsel is to be had, being at Chislehurst.
Accordingly the Chancellor desired that the case might stand over
from Thursday, the day he first appointed it (giving only two
days' notice), to Monday, and that it should be notified to the
parties that if they did not then appear the case should go on
without them. Westmeath came to me in a frenzy of rage, and said
the Chancellor was the greatest of villains, and so he would tell
him in the House of Lords or in the Privy Council. I begged him
to hold his tongue, and I would speak to the Chancellor. So I
went to the House of Lords where he was sitting, and told
Lemarchant what had passed, and that the case ought not to be
thus hurried on. He thanked me very much, and said he would go to
Brougham; but he soon returned, and said that the Chancellor
would hear nothing, and would have the case brought on, and he
therefore advised me not to give myself any further concern in
it, and to leave him and Westmeath to settle it as they might. In
the meantime Westmeath went down to the House of Lords, and after
speaking to Wynford, whom the Chancellor had asked to attend (as
he learnt from me), was going to get up in the House of Lords and
attack him, and was only prevented by Wynford dragging him down
by the tail of his coat. I had already spoken to Wynford, and I
afterwards spoke to Lord Lansdowne, telling them that the case
ought not to be hurried on in this peremptory way, and I
persuaded Lord Lansdowne to set his face against it. However, in
the meantime Wynford had urged the Chancellor to put it off, and
not exasperate that madman, who would say or do something
violent; and, whether from reason or fear, he prevailed on him.
Wynford told me that Brougham is undoubtedly mad, and so I really
believe he is. While I was in the House of Lords Horne came in
from the Commons, and said they had succeeded in stifling there
all discussion on the rejection of the Tithe Bill by the House of
Lords. Grattan was going to introduce the subject, but was
prevailed on to say nothing, and to some questions put by Major
Beauclerck Althorp refused to reply.
[2] [The appellate jurisdiction in causes matrimonial was
vested at this time in the King in Council. The case of
Westmeath _v._ Westmeath, which was a suit for a
separation and a question of alimony, came up on appeal
from the Court of Arches.]
August 16th, 1834 {p.120}
[Page Head: LORD BROUGHAM.]
At a Council for the prorogation; the first time I have seen all
these new Ministers in a bunch--a queer set, all things
considered, to be in possession of the Palace. Great change of
decoration. Duncannon, Ellice, Hobhouse, Abercromby, Mulgrave,
Auckland. The King, who is fond of meddling in the Council
business instead of repeating like a parrot what is put in his
mouth, made a bother and confusion about a fancy matter, and I was
forced to go to Taylor and beg to explain it to him, which I did
after the House of Lords. The King was quite knocked up and easily
satisfied, for he neither desired nor could have understood any
explanations. There were not much more than half a dozen Peers in
the House, but many ladies. The Chancellor went down, and, in
presence of the ladies, attired in his golden robes (and
especially before Mrs. P., to whom he makes love), gave a judgment
in some case in which a picture of Nell Gwynne was concerned, and
he was very proud of the _delicacy_ of his judgment. There never
was anything like his exhilaration of spirits and good-humour. I
don't know what has come to him, except it be that he has
scrambled through the session and got Lord Grey out. He wound up
in the House of Lords by the introduction of his Bill for a
Judicial Committee there, which he prefaced by a speech exhibiting
his own judicial acts, and undoubtedly making a capital case for
himself as to diligence and despatch if it be all true (which I
see no reason to doubt), and passing a great eulogium upon the
House of Lords as an institution, and drawing comparisons between
that House and the House of Commons (much to the disadvantage of
the latter), expressing many things which are very true and just
and of a highly conservative tendency. He is a strange being whom,
with all his inconsistencies, one cannot but admire; so varied and
prodigious are his powers. Much more are these lines applicable to
him than to his predecessor on the Woolsack:--
Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
In a speech the other night, by way of putting his audience on a
wrong scent with regard to his correspondence with Lord
Wellesley, he assured them that that correspondence was on any
subject but politics, and in every language except English; and
Lemarchant told somebody that his most difficult employment was
to correct and copy out the Chancellor's Greek epigrams to Lord
Wellesley, his Greek characters being worse than his English;
while Lord Wellesley sent him very neatly written and prettily
composed epigrams in return. I should think Lemarchant's
occupation very amusing, and that no study could be more curious
than that of the mind and actions of this strange specimen of
humanity.
August 19th, 1834 {p.121}
At Stoke from Saturday, the 16th, till yesterday; had much talk
with old Creevey about the Chancellor. Sefton, his great ally, so
resented his conduct to Lord Grey that he was on the point of
quarrelling with him, and Brougham miscalculated so far as to
chuckle to Sefton himself over the improvement of his own
position in the new order of things, telling him that he could
more easily _manage_ Melbourne than he could Lord Grey. They are
a precious set with their squabbles and _tracasseries_. It
appears that they very well knew what Brougham was from the
beginning, especially Grey's womankind, who warned their father
against him, but they all flattered themselves they had taken the
sting out of him by getting him into the House of Lords. Creevey
says that Brougham is devoured with ambition, and what he wants
is to be Prime Minister, but that it is quite impossible he
should for ever escape detection and not be regularly _blown up_
sooner or later. He now wants to appear on good terms with Lord
Grey, and there is a dinner at Edinburgh in contemplation (at
which Brougham is to preside) to be given to Lord Grey. His
friends want him not to go, but he has a notion that the Scotch
have behaved so well to him that he ought not to refuse the
invitation. The Chancellor had intended to go junketting on the
Rhine with Mrs. P., and this project was only marred by his
discovering that he could not leave the country without putting
the Great Seal in commission at a cost (to himself) of L1,400.
This was a larger price than he was disposed to pay for his trip,
so he went off to Brougham instead.
On Sunday I went all over the private apartments of Windsor
Castle, and walked through what they call the slopes to the
Queen's cottage; all very splendid and luxurious. In the gallery
there is a model of a wretched-looking dog-hole of a building,
with a ruined tower beside it. I asked what this was, and the
housekeeper said, 'The Chateau of Meiningen;' put there, I
suppose, to enhance by comparison the pleasure of all the
grandeur which surrounds the Queen, for it would hardly have been
exhibited as a philosophical or moral memento of her humble
origin and the low fortune from which she has been raised.
[Page Head: SPENCER PERCEVAL.]
As I rode into London yesterday morning I fell in with Spencer
Perceval, and got off my horse to walk into town with him. He
talks rationally enough till he gets on religious topics; he
asked me what I thought of the state of affairs, and, after
telling him my opinion of the condition and prospects of the
Church, I asked him what he thought of them. He said he agreed
with me as to the _status_, but his notion was 'that it all
proceeded from a departure from God,' that ours was a backsliding
Church, and that God had forsaken it, and that we had only to put
our trust in Him, and rely entirely on Him, and He would work out
the salvation of His own. We parted in the midst of the
discussion, and before I had any time to get from him any
explanation of the course he would recommend to those who govern
in furtherance of his own theocratical principles.
There has been what is called 'a great Protestant meeting' at
Dublin, at which Winchilsea was introduced to the Irish Orangemen
and made one of them. It was great in one way, for there were a
great many fools, who talked a great deal of nonsense and evinced
a disposition to do a great deal of mischief if they can.
Winchilsea's description of himself was undoubtedly true, only it
is true always and of all of them, 'that his feelings were so
excited that he was deprived of what little intellect he
possessed.'
August 26th, 1834 {p.123}
On Friday to Hillingdon, Saturday to Stoke; Lord John Russell,
Medem, Dedel, Tommy Duncombe, D'Orsay. Lord John and I walked to
Bulstrode on Sunday; talked about the Chancellor and the
Government. He said that Lord Holland was struck with Brougham's
want of tact at hearing him press Lord Grey to go to a public
dinner at Edinburgh _because_ he was to be in the chair; that
Lord Grey did not think Brougham had been engaged _ab initio_ in
a plot to get him out. Lord John talked of the House of Lords,
and how it and the House of Commons were to be re-united. He
thinks that the obstinacy of the House of Lords and its Tory
spirit are attributable solely to the numerous creations of the
last thirty or forty years.
Tommy Duncombe is the greatest political comedy going, he is
engaged in a mediation between the master builders and the
operatives, who have quarrelled about the unions, and an express
came to him from Cubitt after dinner.
Sefton told me that Lord Grey, when he was at Windsor, had a long
conversation with the King, in which his Majesty expressed no
little dissatisfaction at what had recently occurred and at the
present posture of his affairs. He told me that Lord Grey
certainly would not have continued in office under any circumstances
till Parliament met again, and that, in fact, his continual
propositions to retire and expressions of consciousness of
inability and unfitness had been very embarrassing and annoying
both to his colleagues and the King, and that the latter had
evidently been tired out by them, as was proved by his not making
the slightest effort to induce Lord Grey to remain when he
tendered his resignation. Grey acted very handsomely in giving his
proxy to Melbourne, and the reason he stayed away from the House
of Lords during the latter days of the session was that he was
afraid of being compelled to say something indicative of the real
state of his mind and feelings with regard to past occurrences.
[Page Head: LORD WESTMEATH'S CASE.]
When I got to town yesterday, to my great astonishment I found
that the Vice-Chancellor had been at the office with a peremptory
mandate from the Chancellor to bring on the Westmeath case on
Friday next, sent up from Brougham Hall. In my absence the
summonses had been issued, but I desired them all to be recalled,
and the Vice-Chancellor soon after happening to call on me, I told
him what had occurred before, and that the Lord President was
opposed to the cause being thus hurried on. He acquiesced, and
wrote to the Chancellor to say he had heard from me that it could
not be; and so it ended, but I dare say the Chancellor will be in
a violent rage, which I rather enjoy than not.[3] It is very clear
that he intends to exercise paramount authority over the Judicial
Committee, and to consider everything connected with it at his
disposal. When first he had the Privy Council Bill drawn up by one
of his devils, he intended to create a new tribunal, of which he
should be the head, and though he was obliged to give up his
original design, he still considers himself entitled to deal with
the Judicial Committee as he pleases. If the Lord President had
more of the spirit that is due to the office over which he
presides, he would not suffer him to interfere, and I am resolved
if I can to get Lord Lansdowne to assert his own authority. The
Chancellor has promised Sefton that when Mr. Blackburn, now a
judge at the Mauritius, comes home, he shall be made a Privy
Councillor; that Sir Alexander Johnston, who now attends the
sittings of the Council, shall be dismissed, and Blackburn invited
to attend instead of him, and that he shall have L400 a year
(which by the Act he may). This, if it takes place, will be one of
the grossest and most barefaced jobs that ever were perpetrated;
but I think it can never be. What makes it worse is that Brougham
introduced this clause for the express purpose of meeting
Blackburn's case; so he told Sefton, but I suppose it means that
he made the stipend receivable by an ex-judge in _any colony_,
when the pretext for it was the power of obtaining the assistance
of Indian judges.[4]
[3] [In addition to other reasons, which are obvious,
against this proceeding, it would have been an
unprecedented thing to call on an important appeal for
hearing at the end of August, in the midst of the long
vacation.]
[4] [No colonial judge has ever been appointed to one of
the assessorships of the Judicial Committee, except Sir
Alexander Johnston, who had been Chief Justice of
Ceylon; but Sir Alexander refused to accept the stipend
(L400 a year) attached to the office, and never did
receive it.]
September 4th, 1834 {p.125}
At Court yesterday. The King came to town to receive the address of
the City on the Queen's return--the most ridiculous address I ever
heard. The Queen was too ill to appear. Her visit to Germany knocked
her up, and well it might, considering the life she led--always up
at six and never in bed till twelve, continual receptions and
ceremonies. Errol told me she showed them her old bedroom in the
palace (as they call it) at Meiningen--a hole that an English
housemaid would think it a hardship to sleep in.
Stanley (not the ex-Secretary, but the Under-Secretary) told me
last night an anecdote of Melbourne which I can very easily
believe. When the King sent for him he told Young 'he thought it a
damned bore, and that he was in many minds what he should do--be
Minister or no.' Young said, 'Why, damn it, such a position never
was occupied by any Greek or Roman, and, if it only lasts two
months, it is well worth while to have been Prime Minister of
England.' 'By God that's true,' said Melbourne; 'I'll go.' Young
is his private secretary--a vulgar, familiar, impudent fellow, but
of indefatigable industry and a man who suits Melbourne. His taste
is not delicate enough to be shocked at the coarseness, while his
indolence is accommodated by the industry, of his secretary. Then
Young[5] knows many people, many places, and many things; nobody
knows whence he comes or what is his origin, but he was a purser
in the navy, and made himself useful to the Duke of Devonshire
when he went to Russia, who recommended him to Melbourne. He was a
writer and runner for the newspapers, and has always been an
active citizen, struggling and striving to get on in the world,
and probably with no inconsiderable dexterity. I know nothing of
his honesty, for or against it; he seems good-humoured, but vulgar
and familiar. Ben Stanley and I were talking about public men, and
agreed that by far the ablest, and at the same time the most
unscrupulous, of them are Brougham and O'Connell, and that the
latter is probably on the whole the most devoid of principle.
Their characters and adventures would be worthy of a Plutarch.
[5] [Tom Young was commonly known as 'Ubiquity Young,'
because you saw him in every place you might happen to
go to.]
September 5th, 1834 {p.126}
[Page Head: HOLLAND HOUSE.]
At Holland House yesterday, where I had not been these two years.
Met Lord Holland at Court, who made me go. The last time I was
with my Lady she was so mighty uncivil that I left off my visits,
and then we met again as if there had been no interruption, and
as if we had been living together constantly. Spring Rice and his
son, Melbourne, and Palmerston dined there; Allen was at Dulwich,
but came in the evening, and so did Bobus Smith. There was a
great deal of very good talk, anecdotes, literary criticism, and
what not, some of which would be worth remembering, though hardly
sufficiently striking to be put down, unless as forming a portion
of a whole course of conversations of this description. A vast
depression came over my spirits, though I was amused, and I don't
suppose I uttered a dozen words. It is certainly true that the
atmosphere of Holland House is often oppressive, but that was not
it; it was a painful consciousness of my own deficiencies and of
my incapacity to take a fair share in conversation of this
description. I felt as if a language was spoken before me which I
understood, but not enough to talk in it myself. There was
nothing discussed of which I was altogether ignorant, and when
the merits of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Crabbe were brought into
comparison, and Lord Holland cut jokes upon Allen for his
enthusiastic admiration of the 'De Moribus Germanorum,' it was
not that I had not read the poets or the historian, but that I
felt I had not read them with profit. I have not that familiarity
with either which enables me to discuss their merits, and a
painful sense came over me of the difference between one who has
superficially read and one who has studied, one who has laid a
solid foundation in early youth, gathering knowledge as he
advances in years, all the stores of his mind being so orderly
disposed that they are at all times available, and one who (as I
have done) has huddled together a quantity of loose reading, as
vanity, curiosity, and not seldom shame impelled; reading thus
without system, more to cover the deficiencies of ignorance than
to augment the stores of knowledge, loads the mind with an
undigested mass of matter, which proves when wanted to be of
small practical utility--in short, one must pay for the follies
of one's youth. He who wastes his early years in horse-racing and
all sorts of idleness, figuring away among the dissolute and the
foolish, must be content to play an inferior part among the
learned and the wise. Some instances there are of men who have
united both characters, but it will be found that these have had
frequent laborious intervals, that though they may have been
vicious, they have never been indolent, and that their minds have
never slumbered and lost by disuse the power of exertion.
Reflections of this sort make me very uncomfortable, and I am
ready to cry with vexation when I think on my misspent life. If I
was insensible to a higher order of merit, and indifferent to a
nobler kind of praise, I should be happier far; but to be
tormented with the sentiment of an honourable ambition and with
aspirations after better things, and at the same time so sunk in
sloth and bad habits as to be incapable of those exertions
without which their objects are unattainable, is of all
conditions the worst. I sometimes think that it would be better
for me, as I am not what I might have been (if my education had
been less neglected, and my mind had undergone a better system of
moral discipline), if I was still lower than I am in the scale,
and belonged entirely to a more degraded caste; and then again,
when I look forward to that period which is fast approaching--
When ... a sprightlier age--
Comes tittering on to drive one from the stage--
I am thankful that I have still something in store, that though
far below the wise and the learned, I am still something raised
above the ignorant mob, that though much of my mental substance
has been wasted, I have enough left to appear respectably in the
world, and that I have at least preserved that taste for literary
pursuits which I cling to as the greatest of blessings and the
best security against the tedium and vacuity which are the
indispensable concomitants of an idle youth and an ignorant old
age.
[Page Head: CONVERSATION AT HOLLAND HOUSE.]
As a slight but imperfect sketch of the talk of Holland House I
will put down this:--
They talked of Taylor's new poem, 'Philip van Artevelde.'
Melbourne had read and admired it. The preface, he said, was
affected and foolish, the poem very superior to anything in
Milman. There was one fine idea in the 'Fall of Jerusalem'--that
of Titus, who felt himself propelled by an irresistible impulse
like that of the Greek dramatists, whose fate is the great agent
always pervading their dramas. They held Wordsworth cheap, except
Spring Rice, who was enthusiastic about him. Holland thought
Crabbe the greatest genius of modern poets. Melbourne said he
degraded every subject. None of them had known Coleridge; his
lectures were very tiresome, but he is a poet of great merit.
Then they spoke of Spencer Perceval and Irving preaching in the
streets. Irving had called on Melbourne, and eloquently
remonstrated that 'they only asked the same licence that was
given to puppet-shows and other sights not to be prevented; that
the command was express, "Go into the highways," and that they
must obey God rather than man.' Melbourne said this was all very
true and unanswerable. 'What _did_ you answer?' I asked. 'I said,
"You must not preach there."' Then of Cambridge and Goulburn, who
is a saint and gave lectures in his room, by which he has caught
several young men. Lord Holland spoke of George III.'s letters to
Lord North; the King liked Lord North, hated the Duke of
Richmond. Amongst the few people he liked were Lord Loughborough
and Lord Thurlow. Thurlow was always 'endeavouring to undermine
the Minister with whom he was acting, and intriguing underhand
with his enemies.' Loughborough used to say, 'Do what you think
right, and never think of what you are to say to excuse it
beforehand'--a good maxim. The Duke of Richmond in 1763 or 1764,
after an audience of the King in his closet, told him that 'he
had said that to him which if he was a subject he should not
scruple to call an untruth.' The King never forgave it, and the
Duke had had the imprudence to make a young king his enemy for
life. This Duke of Richmond, when Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex,
during the American war, sailed in a yacht through the fleet,
when the King was there, with American colours at his mast-head.
He never forgave Fox for putting the Duke of Portland instead of
himself at the head of the Government in 1782. During the riots
in 1780 on account of Admiral Keppel, Tom Grenville burst open
the door of the Admiralty, and assisted at the pillage and
destruction of papers. Lord Grey a little while ago attacked him
about it, and he did not deny it. Such things could not be done
now. During the Windsor election they hired a mob to go down and
throw Lord Mornington (Lord Wellesley) over Windsor Bridge, and
Fitzpatrick said it would be so fine to see St. Patrick's blue
riband floating down the stream. They first sent to Piper to know
if Lord Mornington could swim. The plan was defeated by his
having a still stronger mob. After dinner they discussed women's
works: few _chefs-d'oeuvres_; Madame de Sevigne the best; the
only three of a high class are Madame de Sevigne, Madame de
Stael, and (Bobus Smith said) Sappho, but of her not above forty
lines are extant: these, however, are unrivalled; Mrs Somerville
is very great in the exact sciences. Lady Holland would not hear
of Madame de Stael. They agreed as to Miss Austen that her novels
are excellent. Quintus Curtius is confirmed by Burnes' travels in
Bokhara, but was reckoned no authority by the greatest scholars;
Lord Melbourne said Mitford had expressed his confidence in him.
Of the early English kings there is no reason to believe that any
king before Edward III. understood the English language; the
quarrel between Beckett and King Henry II. was attributed (by
some writers) to the hostile feeling between Normans and Saxons,
and this was the principal motive of the quarrel and the murder
of the Archbishop. Klopstock had a _sect_ of admirers in Germany;
some young students made a pilgrimage from Gottingen to Hamburg,
where Klopstock lived in his old age, to ask him the meaning of a
passage in one of his works which they could not understand. He
looked at it, and then said that he could not then recollect what
it was that he meant when he wrote it, but that he knew it was
the finest thing he ever wrote, and they could not do better than
devote their lives to the discovery of its meaning.
September 7th, 1834 {p.130}
[Page Head: LORD MELBOURNE'S LITERARY CONVERSATION.]
At Holland House again; only Bobus Smith and Melbourne; these
two, with Allen, and Lord Holland agreeable enough. Melbourne's
excellent scholarship and universal information remarkably
display themselves in society, and he delivers himself with an
energy which shows how deeply his mind is impressed with literary
subjects.
After dinner there was much talk of the Church, and Allen spoke of
the early reformers, the Catharists, and how the early Christians
persecuted each other; Melbourne quoted Vigilantius's letter to
Jerome, and then asked Allen about the 11th of Henry IV., an Act
passed by the Commons against the Church, and referred to the
dialogue between the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of
Ely at the beginning of Shakespeare's 'Henry V.,' which Lord
Holland sent for and read, Melbourne knowing it all by heart and
prompting all the time. Lingard says of this statute that the
Commons proposed to the King to commit an act of spoliation on the
clergy, but that the King sharply rebuked them and desired to hear
no more of the matter. About etymologies Melbourne quoted Tooke's
'Diversions of Purley,' which he seemed to have at his fingers'
ends. I forget what other topics were discussed, but after Lady
Holland and Melbourne and Allen went to bed, Lord Holland, Bobus,
and I sat down, and Lord Holland told us many anecdotes about the
great orators of his early days. Fox used to say Grey was the most
prudent man he knew, and this perhaps owing to his having got into
a scrape early in his Parliamentary life, by attacking Pitt, who
gave him a severe castigation; it was about his letter to the
Prince being sent by a servant during the Regency discussions. Fox
thought his own speech in 1804 on going to war with France the
best he ever made. Lord Holland believed that Pitt (the younger)
was not so eloquent as Chatham. Grattan said, 'He takes longer
flights, does not soar so high.' No power was ever equal to
Chatham's over a public assembly, much greater in the Commons than
it was afterwards in the Lords. When Sir Thomas Robinson had been
boring the House on some commercial question, and introduced the
word 'sugar' so often that there was at last a laugh as often as
he did so, Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, who had put him up, grew very
angry, and at last his wrath boiled over. When Robinson sat down
Pitt rose, and with a tone and manner of the utmost indignation
began, 'Mr. Speaker, sir--sugar--I say sugar. Who laughs now?' and
nobody did laugh. Once in the House of Lords, on a debate during
the American war, he said he hoped the King might be awakened from
his slumbers. There was a cry of 'Order! order!' 'Order, my
Lords?' burst out Chatham, 'Order? I have not been disorderly, but
I _will_ be disorderly. I repeat again, I hope that his Majesty
may be awakened from his slumbers, but that he may be awakened by
such an awful apparition as that which drew King Priam's curtains
in the dead of the night and told him of the conflagration of his
empire.' Holland regretted much that he had never heard Lord
North, whom he fancied he should have liked as much as any of his
great opponents; his temper, shrewdness, humour, and power of
argument were very great. Tommy Townshend, a violent, foolish
fellow, who was always talking strong language, said in some
debate, 'Nothing will satisfy me but to have the noble Lord's
head; I will have his head.' Lord North said, 'The honourable
gentleman says he will have my head. I bear him no malice in
return, for though the honourable gentleman says he will have my
head, I can assure him that I would on no account have his.'
September 13th, 1834 {p.132}
Dined again at Holland House the day before yesterday; Melbourne,
Rice, Lord and Lady Albemarle, and Lord Gosford; rather dull. A
discussion about _who_ was the man in a mask who cut Charles I.'s
head off; Mackintosh believed he knew. What a literary puerility!
The man in a mask was Jack Ketch (whatever his name was); who can
doubt it? Where was the man, Roundhead or Puritan, who as an
amateur would have mounted the scaffold to perform this office?
But the executioner, though only discharging the duties of his
office, probably thought in those excited times that he would not
be safe from the vengeance of some enthusiastic cavalier, and
that it was more prudent to conceal the features of the man by
whom the deed was done. Melbourne swore that Henry VIII. was the
greatest man who ever lived, and Allen declared if he had not
married Ann Boleyn we should have continued Catholics to this
day, both of which assertions I ventured to dispute. Allen with
all his learning is fond of a paradox, and his prejudices shine
forth in every question in which Church and religion are
implicated. Melbourne loves dashing opinions.
September 18th, 1834 {p.133}
[Page Head: LORD BROUGHAM'S ABERRATIONS.]
For some weeks past a fierce war has been waged by the 'Times'
against the Chancellor. It was declared in some menacing articles
which soon swelled into a tone of rebuke, and have since been
sharpened into attacks of a constancy, violence, and vigour quite
unexampled; all the power of writing which the paper can
command--argument, abuse, and ridicule--have been heaped day
after day upon him, and when it took a little breathing time it
filled up the interval by quotations from other papers, which
have been abundantly supplied both by the London and the country
press. I do not yet know what are the secret causes which have
stirred the wrath of the 'Times.' The 'Examiner' has once a week
thrown into the general contribution of rancour an article
perhaps wittier and more pungent than any which have appeared in
the 'Times,' but between them they have flagellated him till he
is raw, and it is very clear that he feels it quite as acutely as
they can desire. While they have thus been administering
castigation in this unsparing style, he has afforded them the
best opportunities by his extraordinary progress in Scotland, and
the astonishing speeches which he made at Aberdeen and Dundee,
making more mountebank exhibitions than he did in the House of
Lords, and exciting the unquenchable laughter of his enemies and
the continual terror of his friends. Lord Holland told me that he
was trembling for the account of the Edinburgh dinner. That great
affair appears, however (by the first half of the proceedings),
to have gone off very well. Lord Grey in his speech confined
himself to general topics, and he and Brougham steered extremely
clear of one another, but Brougham made some allusions which
Durham took to himself, and replied to with considerable asperity
of tone, avoiding, however, any personalities and anything like a
direct collision. Everybody asks, How long will Brougham be
permitted to go on playing these ape's tricks and scattering his
flummery and his lies? and then they say, But you can't get rid of
him, and the Government (dangerous as he is to them) could not get
on without him. There would probably be no difficulty; experience
has demonstrated to me the extreme fallacy of the notion that
_anybody_ under _any_ circumstances is indispensable. Althorp
appeared the most indispensable man the other day, but that was only
because his friends and the fools in the House of Commons kept
bawling out that he was so till they persuaded him, themselves, and
everybody else that it really was the case. Who would have dared to
say that this Government could have gone on without either Stanley
in one House or Lord Grey in the other? But anybody would have been
scouted as mad who had argued that it would go on just as well when
deprived of both of them. The Chancellor's amazing talents--his
eloquence, sarcasm, and varied powers--can never fail to produce
considerable effect; but in the House of Lords the field is narrow
for the display of these qualities, the audience is cold and
unfriendly, and he has excited such a general feeling of personal
animosity against himself, and has done such irreparable injury to
his character--having convinced all the world that he is desperately
ambitious, false, capricious, intriguing, and governed by no
principle, and under the influence of no sentiment of honour--that
his influence is exceedingly diminished. Those who are charitably
disposed express their humane conviction that he is mad, and it
probably is not very remote from the truth.[6]
[6] [It is with pain and reluctance that I print these
remarks on Lord Brougham, and several passages in the
preceding pages of these Memoirs which are equally
severe, and in some respects, I think, exaggerated. But
I certainly do not feel myself justified in withholding
them. They were all revised and corrected by the author
himself with great care; and nothing but a true and
full account of the sentiments which Lord Brougham's
conduct had excited amongst his colleagues and
contemporaries at that time can account for the
catastrophe which awaited him, and which excluded him
for the rest of his life from official life and
employment.]
Henry Taylor brought me a parcel of letters to frank to Southey
the other day; they are from Newton, Cowper's nephew (I think to
W. Thornton), and they are to supply Southey with materials for
Cowper's Life, which he is writing. There is one curious fact
revealed in these letters, which accounts for much of Cowper's
morbid state of mind and fits of depression, as well as for the
circumstance of his running away from his place in the House of
Lords. It relates to some defect in his physical conformation;
some body found out his secret, and probably threatened its
exposure.
September 19th, 1834 {p.135}
[Page Head: CANNING AND LORD HOLLAND.]
Yesterday at Holland House; nobody there but Melbourne. We were
talking of Reform, and Lord Holland said, 'I don't know if we were
right about Reform, but this I know, that if we were to propose it
at all, we were right in going the lengths we did, and this was
Canning's opinion.' Melbourne said, 'Yes, I know it was, and that
was mine, and that was the reason why I was against Reform.' Holland
then resumed that he had formerly been one of Canning's most
intimate friends at college; that at that time--the beginning of the
French Revolution--when a general excitement prevailed, Canning was
a great Jacobin, much more so than he was himself; that Canning had
always hated the aristocracy (a hatred which they certainly returned
with interest); that in after life he had been separated from
Canning, and they had seen but little of each other. Just before he
was going to India, however, Holland called on him, and Canning
dined at Holland House. On one of these occasions they had a
conversation upon the subject of Reform, when Canning said that he
saw it was inevitable, and he was not sorry to be away while the
measure was accomplished, but that if he had been here while it was
mooted, he could have _let those gentlemen_ (the Whig aristocracy)
_know that they should gain nothing by it_. After dinner we had much
talk about religion, when Allen got into a fury; he thundered out
his invectives against the _charlatanerie_ of the Apostles and
Fathers and the brutal ignorance of the early Christian converts,
when Holland said, laughing, 'Well, but you need not abuse them so
violently.' They were in high delight at Holland House at the way
the Edinburgh dinner went off. It was a very ludicrous incident that
the Scotchmen could not be kept from falling to before Lord Grey and
the grandees arrived, and when they did come most of the dinner was
already eaten up. The Chancellor is said to have made an admirable
speech at the meeting of _savans_, full of dignity, propriety, and
eloquence, and the _savans_ spoke one more absurdly than another.
September 23rd, 1834 {p.136}
[Page Head: PALMERSTON AND BROUGHAM.]
On Saturday at Stoke; came up yesterday with Melbourne. We had a
great deal of talk. As soon as we got into the carriage he asked
me if I thought it was true that Talleyrand had taken such
offence at Palmerston that he would not return here on that
account, and if I knew what it was that had affronted him,
whether any deficiency in diplomatic punctilio or general
offensiveness of manner. I told him I had no doubt it was true,
and that the complaints against Palmerston were so general that
there must be some cause for them, and though Madame de Lieven
might be prejudiced against him, _all_ the foreign Ambassadors
could not be so. He said it was very extraordinary if it was so,
tried to argue that it might not be the case, and put it in all
sorts of different ways; he said that Palmerston exhibited no
signs of temper or arrogance with his colleagues, but quite the
reverse; he owned, however, he was very obstinate. We then talked
over the Stratford Canning business; he admitted that it was
unfortunate and might lead to serious consequences, both as to
our relations with the Emperor and to the question of diplomatic
expenses here. I expressed my astonishment that Palmerston's
obstinacy should have been permitted to have its own way in the
matter, and I should guess, from his own strong opinion on the
subject, that an Ambassador would be sent before long. He told
me--what I did not know before--that the King of Prussia had
desired to have Lord Clanwilliam recalled from Berlin.
He then talked of Brougham, and I found that he knows him
thoroughly, and is more on his guard than I thought he was with
regard to him. I told him of the change in Sefton's feelings
towards him on Lord Grey's account, and also of Brougham's strange
want of discrimination and his imprudence in congratulating
himself to Sefton on the recent changes, and of his expectations
of profiting by Melbourne's advancement to power. I touched
lightly on the latter part, because it is never prudent to dwell
upon topics which are injurious to a person's vanity, and a word
dropped upon so tender a part produces as much effect as the
strongest argument. He seemed not a little struck by it, and when
I said that I thought there was a taint of insanity in the
Chancellor, he said that he thought a great change in him was
manifest in the course of the last year, and admitted that he did
not think him of sound mind certainly. This he rather implied than
expressed, however. He talked of his conduct in Parliament, and
observed upon the strange forbearance of the Tories towards him;
he thought he had never given stronger evidence of talent than in
some of his speeches during the last session. I asked him if the
King and Brougham were well together. He shook his head: 'not at
all, and the King can't bear these exhibitions in Scotland.' He
said the King liked Palmerston, Auckland, Spring Rice, and
Mulgrave; had no fancy for any of the rest. (I suspect he likes
him (Melbourne), because he appears to talk openly to him, and to
express his feelings about the others, and I dare say Melbourne
puts him at his ease.) He can't bear John Russell, respects
Althorp (and particularly Lord Spencer), but hates Althorp's
politics; treats Lord Holland with the familiarity of a
connexion,[7] but doesn't like his politics either; he is
tenacious about having everything laid before him, often gives his
opinion, but is easily satisfied; liked Lord Grey, but was never
quite at his ease with him (this accounts for his taking Lord
Grey's resignation as quietly as he did); has a very John-Bullish
aversion to the French, and the junction of the English and French
fleets two years ago was a bitter pill for him to swallow.
[7] [Colonel Fox, Lord Holland's eldest son, having married
Lady Mary, the King's eldest daughter, both however
born out of wedlock.]
We afterwards talked of Canning and the Duke of Wellington, and
the breaking up of the Tory Government. I told him that I
believed the Duke and the Tories were aware of Canning's
communications with Brougham. Brougham wrote to Canning and made
him an unqualified offer of support. When the King asked Canning
how he was to obtain support enough to carry on the Government,
he pulled this letter out of his pocket, gave it to him, and
said, 'Sir, your father broke the domination of the Whigs; I hope
your Majesty will not endure that of the Tories.' 'No,' said the
King; 'I'll be damned if I do;' and he made him Minister. This
Canning told Melbourne himself.
September 25th, 1834 {p.138}
Dined yesterday at Holland House; only Melbourne and Pahlen, and
in the evening Senior came. He is a very able man--a conveyancer,
great political economist, and author of various works on that
subject. He was employed by Government to draw up the Poor Law
Bill, and might have been one of the Poor Law Commissioners if he
would have accepted the office; his profits in his profession are
too great to be given up for this occupation. By a discussion
which arose about Bickersteth's merits it was clear that there is
a question of his being Solicitor-General. Melbourne said 'he was
a Benthamite, and they were all fools.' (He said a doctrinaire
was a fool, but an honest man.) I said 'the Austins were not
fools.' 'Austin? Oh, a damned fool. Did you ever read his book
on "Jurisprudence"?' I said I had read a great part of it, and
that it did not appear to be the work of a fool. He said he had
read it all, and that it was the dullest book he ever read, and
full of truisms elaborately set forth. Melbourne is very fond of
being slashing and paradoxical. It is astonishing how much he
reads even now that he is Prime Minister. He is greatly addicted
to theology, and loves conversing on the subject of religion.
----, who wanted him to marry her (which he won't do, though he
likes to talk to her), is the depositary of his thoughts and
notions on these subjects, and the other day she told me he sent
her a book (I forget what) on the Revelation stuffed with
marginal notes of his own. It was not long ago that he _studied_
Lardner's book on the 'Credibility of the Christian Religion,'
and compared it with the Bible as he went along. She fancies that
all this reading and reflection have turned him into the right
way. I can see no symptom of it at Holland House.
After dinner we talked of languages, and Lord Holland insisted
that Spanish was the finest of all and the best adapted to
eloquence. They said that George Villiers wrote word that nothing
could be better than the speaking in the Cortes--great readiness
and acuteness in reply--and that a more dexterous and skilful
debater than Martinez de la Rosa could not be found in any
assembly. '_That_ speaking so well is the worst thing about
them,' said Melbourne. 'Ah, that is one of your paradoxes,' Lord
Holland replied.
Allen talked to me about the Harley papers, which were left in a
box not to be opened for sixty years; the box was only opened a
few years ago at my cousin Titchfield's (the first) desire, and
the papers submitted to Mackintosh, with permission to publish
them in his 'History of England.' Mackintosh's death put an end
to this, and Allen wants me to ask my uncle the Duke of Portland
to put them in my hands and let me publish them. I never did so.
Macaulay had all Mackintosh's papers, and amongst them his notes
from these MSS.
London, November 13th, 1834
[Page Head: REFLECTIONS ON THE TURF.]
For two months nearly that I have been in this country I have not
written a line, having had nothing worth recording to put down. It
is not worth my while to write, nor anybody else's to read (should
anybody ever read these memoranda), the details of racing and all
that thereunto appertains, and though several disagreeable
occurrences have ruffled the stream of my life, I have no pleasure
in recording these; for if their consequences pass away, and I can
forget them, it is better not at any future time to awaken 'the
scorpion sting of griefs subdued.' Of public events I have known
nothing but what everybody else knows, and it would have been mere
waste of time to copy from the newspapers accounts of the
conflagration of the Houses of Parliament or the Durham dinner at
Glasgow. My campaign on the turf has been a successful one. Still
all this success has not prevented frequent disgusts, and I derive
anything but unmixed pleasure from this pursuit even when I win by
it. Besides the continual disappointments and difficulties
incident to it, which harass the mind, the life it compels me to
lead, the intimacies arising out of it, the associates and the war
against villany and trickery, being haunted by continual
suspicions, discovering the trust-_un_worthiness of one's most
intimate friends, the necessity of insincerity and concealment
sometimes where one feels that one ought and would desire to be
most open; then the degrading nature of the occupation, mixing
with the lowest of mankind, and absorbed in the business for the
sole purpose of getting money, the consciousness of a sort of
degradation of intellect, the conviction of the deteriorating
effects upon both the feelings and the understanding which are
produced, the sort of dram-drinking excitement of it--all these
things and these thoughts torment me, and often turn my pleasure
to pain. On arriving in town I went to Crockford's, where I found
all the usual set of people, and soon after Sefton came in. Lord
Spencer's death had taken place the day before; he knew nothing of
the probable arrangements, but he told me that he supposed Althorp
would go to the Admiralty and Auckland to India. But what he was
fullest of was that Mrs. Lane Fox's house was become the great
rendezvous of a considerable part of the Cabinet. The Chancellor,
Melbourne, Duncannon, and Mulgrave are there every day and all
day; they all dine with her, or meet her (the only woman) at each
other's houses, as often as they can. It certainly is a droll
connexion. The squabbles between Brougham and Durham seem to have
resolved themselves into a mere personal coldness, and there is no
question now of any hostilities between them. I never thought
there would be, though some people apparently did; but they both
would much rather rail than fight.
November 14th, 1834 {p.140}
Went down to the Council Office yesterday, and found them in the
middle of Lord Westmeath's case--Lord Lansdowne, the Vice-Chancellor,
Parke, Erskine, and Vaughan. Lushington was for Lady Westmeath,
and Follett (with a civilian) for him. After the argument there
was a discussion, and well did Westmeath do, for they reduced the
alimony from L700 to L315 a year, and the arrears in the same
proportion. Thus Westmeath succeeded in great measure in his
appeal, which he would not have done if the Chancellor had
contrived to lug on the case as he wished; for Erskine was all for
giving her more, the others did not seem averse, and but for
Parke, who hit off the right principle, as well as what best
accorded with the justice of the case, she would certainly have
got a much larger award.
[Page Head: RECENT LAW APPOINTMENTS.]
The Vice-Chancellor afterwards told me the history of the recent
legal appointments. There never was any difference of opinion
between Brougham and Melbourne on the subject of either. Campbell
accepted the Attorney-Generalship on the express condition that
he should not expect to succeed as a matter of right to any
vacancy in the Courts, but on Leach's death he did instantly urge
his claims. Brougham wrote to Melbourne, and speedily followed
his letter to London, and they both agreed not to listen to this
claim, and to promote Pepys. I don't know how they disposed of
Horne's claim. Bickersteth[8] refused to be Solicitor-General on
account of his health, and not choosing to face the House of
Commons and its work. Shadwell told me that he wrote to Brougham
and suggested Rolfe when the vacancy occurred, that he had not
been in great practice, but was a good lawyer and excellent
speaker, and that the Chancellor and Melbourne had likewise
concurred in this appointment. Nothing is settled about the new
arrangements rendered necessary by Lord Spencer's death, but
Melbourne went to Brighton yesterday. Rice has worked hard to
master the Colonial business, and probably will not like to be
translated to the Exchequer; besides, it is supposed that his
seat at Cambridge would be in great peril. People talk of their
not going on; how can any others go on better?
[8] [Mr. Bickersteth refused to be Solicitor-General
because the offer was made to him by the Lord
Chancellor, and not by the Prime Minister. At that time
he was personally unacquainted with Lord Melbourne, but
he consented to call on him at Lord Melbourne's
request, and the offer was repeated, but not accepted.
The real reason of his refusal was his profound
distrust of Lord Brougham, which amounted to aversion,
and he thought it unworthy of himself to accept the
office of a law officer of the Crown under a Chancellor
with whom he could not conscientiously act. I have read
a MS. narrative of the whole transaction by Lord
Langdale himself, in which these sentiments are very
strongly expressed.]
Lord Lansdowne has just returned from Paris, where, he told me,
he had frequent conversations with the King. The new Ministry is
a wretched patched-up affair; but the Government of France is
centred in the King, and it is his great power and influence in
the Chambers, and not the ability of his Ministers (be they who
they may), that keeps the thing going. This influence appears to
be immense, and without enjoying any popularity, there is an
universal opinion that Louis Philippe is indispensable to France.
He told Lord Lansdowne that he had always been against the
appointment of Marshal Gerard as President of the Council,
although he had a high opinion of him, but that he was aware he
had not tact and judgment sufficient for that post, and he had
told his Ministers that he would consent to the appointment if
they insisted on it, but that he warned them that it would break
up the Government. Whatever may be the instability of this or any
other Administration, it is said that nothing can be more firm
and secure than the King's tenure of his crown. He appears, in
fact, to be the very man that France requires, and as he is in
the vigour of life and has a reasonable prospect of a long reign,
he will probably consolidate the interest of his family and
extinguish whatever lingering chance there might be of the
restoration of the old effete dynasty.