of the Board of Control. Mr. Wilson related at Hawick his reluctance to
accept it, and his reason. Never having given any special attention to
Indian topics, he thought it would be absurd and ridiculous in him to
accept an office which seemed to require much special knowledge. But
Lord John Russell, with ‘that knowledge of public affairs which long
experience ensures,’ at once explained to him that a statesman, under
our Parliamentary system, must be prepared to serve the Queen ‘whenever
he may be called on;’ and accordingly that he must be ready to take any
office which he can fill, without at all considering whether it is that
which he can best fill. After some deliberation, Mr. Wilson acknowledged
the wisdom of this advice, and accepted the office offered him. Long
afterwards, in the speech at Hawick to which we have alluded, he said
that without the preliminary knowledge of India which he acquired at
the Board of Control, he should never have been able to undertake the
regulation of her finances.
When once installed in his office, he devoted himself to it with his
usual unwearied industry. And at least on one occasion he had to deal
with a congenial topic. The introduction of railways into India was
opposed on many grounds, most of which are now forgotten—such as ‘the
effect upon the native mind,’ ‘the impossibility of inducing the Hindoos
to travel in that manner,’ and the like; and more serious difficulties
occurred in considering the exact position which the Government
should assume with regard to such great undertakings in such singular
circumstances—the necessity on the one hand, in an Asiatic country
where the State is the sole motive power, of the Government’s doing
something—and the danger, on the other hand, of interfering with private
enterprise, by its doing, or attempting to do, too much. Mr. Wilson
applied himself vigorously to all these difficulties; he exercised the
whole of his personal influence, and the whole of that which was given
to him by his situation, in dissipating the fanciful obstacles which
were alleged to be latent in the unknown tendencies of the Oriental
mind; while he certainly elaborated—and he believed that he originally
suggested—the peculiar form of State guarantee upon the faith of which so
many millions of English capital have been sent to develop the industry
of India.
Besides discharging the duties of his office, Mr. Wilson represented
the Government of the day on several Committees connected with his
peculiar topics, and especially on one which fully investigated the
Sugar question. Of the latter, indeed, he became so fully master that
some people fancied he must have been in the trade; so complete was the
familiarity which he displayed with ‘brown muscovado,’ ‘white clayed,’
and all other technical terms which are generally inscrutably puzzling
to Parliamentary statesmen. On a Parliamentary Committee Mr. Wilson
appeared to great advantage. Though sufficiently confident of the truth
of his own opinions, he had essentially a fair mind; he always had
the greatest confidence that if the facts were probed the correctness
of what he believed would be established, and, _therefore_, he was
always ready to probe the facts to the bottom. He was likewise a great
master of the Socratic art of inquiry; he was able to frame a series of
consecutive questions which gradually brought an unwilling or a hostile
witness to conclusions at which he by no means wished to arrive. His
examination-in-chief, too, was as good as his cross-examination, and
the animated interest which he evinced in the subject relieved the
dreariness which a rehearsed extraction of premeditated answers commonly
involves. The examination of Lord Overstone before the Committee of 1848
on Commercial Distress, that of Mr. Weguelin before the Committee on the
Bank Acts in 1857, and several of the examinations before the Committee
on Life Insurance, of which he was the Chairman, may be consulted as
models in their respective kinds. And it should be stated that no man
could be less overbearing in examination or cross-examination; much was
often extracted from a witness which he did not wish to state, but it was
always extracted fairly, quietly, and by seemingly inevitable sequence.
Mr. Wilson continued at the Board of Control till the resignation of
Lord John Russell’s Cabinet in the spring of 1852. He took part in the
opposition of the Liberal party to Lord Derby’s Government, and was very
deeply interested in the final settlement of the Free Trade question
which was effected by the accession of the Protectionist party to office.
After a very severe contest he was re-elected for Westbury in July 1852,
and on the formation of the Aberdeen Government he accepted the office
of Financial Secretary to the Treasury, which he continued to hold for
five years, until the dissolution of Lord Palmerston’s administration
in the spring of 1857, and upon his efficiency in which his remarkable
reputation as an official administrator was mainly based.
The Financial Secretaryship of the Treasury is by no means one of the
most conspicuous offices in the Government, and but few persons who
have not observed political life closely are at all aware either of
its difficulty or of its importance. The office is, indeed, a curious
example of the half grotesque way in which the abstract theory of our
historical Constitution contrasts with its practical working. In the
theory of the Constitution—a theory which may still be found in popular
compendiums—there is an officer called the Lord High Treasurer, who is
to advise the Crown and be responsible to the country for all public
moneys. In practice, there is no such functionary: by law his office is
‘in commission.’ Certain Lords Commissioners are supposed to form a Board
at which financial subjects are discussed, and which is responsible for
their due administration. In practice, there is no such discussion and no
such responsibility. The functions of the Junior Lords of the Treasury,
though not entirely nominal, are but slight. The practical administration
of our expenditure is vested in the First Lord of the Treasury, the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, and the Financial Secretary of the
Treasury. And of these three the constitutional rule is, that the First
Lord of the Treasury is only officially responsible for decisions in
detail when he chooses to interfere in those decisions. Accordingly, when
a First Lord, as was the case with Sir R. Peel, takes a great interest in
financial questions, the Chancellor of the Exchequer does the usual work
of the Secretary of the Treasury, and the Secretary of the Treasury has
in comparison nothing to do. But when, as was the case in the Governments
of Lord Aberdeen and Lord Palmerston, the Prime Minister takes no special
interest in finance, the Chancellor of the Exchequer is very fully
employed in the transaction of his own proper business, and an enormous
mass of work, some of it of extreme importance, falls to the Secretary
of the Treasury. Of late years, the growth of the miscellaneous civil
expenditure of the country has greatly augmented that work, great as it
was before. In general, it may be said that the whole of the financial
detail of our national expenditure is more or less controlled by the
Secretary of the Treasury; that much of it is very closely controlled by
him; and that he has vast powers of practical discretion, if only he be a
man of ability, industry, and courage.
For such an office as this Mr. Wilson had very peculiar qualifications.
He was perfectly sure to be right in a plain case; and by far the larger
part of the ordinary business of the Government, as of individuals,
consists of plain cases. A man who is thoroughly sure to decide
effectually and correctly the entire mass of easy, obvious cases, is a
safer master of practical life than one eminently skilled in difficult
cases, but deficient in the more rudimentary qualification. Nor is the
power of certainly deciding plain cases rightly, by any means very
common, especially among very intellectual men. A certain taint of
subtlety, a certain tendency to be wise above the case in hand, mars the
practical efficiency of many men whose conversation and whose powers
would induce us to expect that they would be very efficient. Mr. Wilson
had not a particle of these defects. He struck off each case with a
certain sledge-hammer efficiency, and every plain case at least with
infallible accuracy.
It might seem overstrained eulogy—a eulogy which he would not have
wished—to claim for Mr. Wilson an equally infallible power of deciding
complicated cases. As to such cases there will always be a doubt. Plain
matters speak for themselves: they do not require a dissertation to
elucidate them: every man of business, as soon as he hears the right
decision of them, knows that it is the right decision. But with more
refined matters it is not so; as to points involving an abstract theory,
like that of the currency, there will and must be differences of judgment
to the end of time. We would not, therefore, whatever may be our own
opinion, claim for Mr. Wilson as infallible a power of deciding difficult
questions as he certainly possessed of deciding plain questions. But we
do claim for him even in such matters the greatest secondary excellence,
if, indeed, a secondary excellence it be. Mr. Wilson was perfectly
certain to be _intelligible in the most difficult case_. Whether he did
right or did wrong, must, as we have said, be from the nature of the
subject-matter very arguable. But _what_ he did and _why_ he did it,
was never in doubt for a moment. The archives of the Treasury contain
countless minutes from his pen, many of them written with what most men
would call rapidity, just while the matter was waiting for decision, and
on all sorts of subjects, many of them very complicated ones—yet it may
be doubted whether any one of those minutes contains a single sentence
not thoroughly and conspicuously clear. The same excellence which has
been shown in countless articles in the _Economist_ appears in his
business-like documents. Wherever his leading articles were written and
under whatever circumstances—and some of the most elaborate of them were
written under rather strange circumstances (for he could catch up a pen
and begin to write on the most involved topic, at any time, in any place,
and, as a casual observer would think, without any premeditation)—but
wherever and however these articles might be written, it may be safely
asserted that they do not contain a sentence which a man of business
need read twice over, or which he would not find easily and certainly
intelligible. At the Treasury it was the same. However complicated or
involved the matter to be decided might be—however much it might be
loaded with detail or perplexed by previous controversy—Mr. Wilson never
failed to make immediately clear the exact opinion he formed upon it, the
exact grounds upon which he formed it, and the exact course of action
which he thought should be adopted upon it. Many persons well acquainted
with practical life will be disposed to doubt whether extreme accuracy
of decision is not almost a secondary merit as compared with a perfect
intelligibility. In many cases it may be better to have a decision which
every one can understand, though with some percentage of error, than an
elaborately accurate decision of which the grounds and reasons are not
easily grasped, and a plan of action which, from its refined complexity,
is an inevitable mystery to the greater number of practical persons.
But, putting aside this abstract discussion, we say without fear of
contradiction or of doubt, that Mr. Wilson added to his almost infallible
power of deciding plain cases, an infallible certainty of being entirely
intelligible in complicated cases. Men of business will be able to
imagine the administrative capacity certain to be produced by the union
of extreme excellence in both qualities.
One subsidiary faculty that Mr. Wilson possessed, which was very useful
to him in the multifarious business of the Treasury, was an extraordinary
memory. On his own subjects and upon transactions in which he had taken
a decisive part, he seemed to recollect anything and everything. He
was able to answer questions as to business transacted at the Treasury
after the lapse of months and even of years without referring to the
papers, and with a perfect certainty of substantial accuracy. He would
say, without the slightest effort and without the slightest idea that he
was doing anything extraordinary: ‘Such and such a person came to me at
the Treasury, and said so and so, and this is what I said to him.’ And
it is quite possible that he might remember the precise sums of money
which were the subject of conversation. A more useful memory for the
purposes of life was perhaps never possessed by any one. In the case of
great literary memories, such as that of Lord Macaulay and of others, the
fortunate possessor has a continued source of pleasurable and constantly
recurring recollections; he has a full mind constantly occupied with its
own contents, recurring to its long loved passages from its favourite
authors constantly and habitually. But Mr. Wilson never recurred to
the transactions in which he had been engaged except when he was asked
about them; he lived as little in the past perhaps as is possible for an
intellectual person; but the moment the spring was touched by a question
or by some external necessity, all the details of the past transaction
started into his memory completely, vividly, and perfectly. He had thus
the advantage of always remembering his business, and also the advantage
of never being burdened by it. Very few persons can ever have had in
equal measure the two merits of a fresh judgment and a full mind.
Mr. Wilson’s memory was likewise assisted by a very even judgment. It was
easier to him to remember what he had done, because, if he had to do the
same thing again, he would be sure to do it in precisely the same way. He
was not an intolerant person, but the qualities he tolerated least easily
were flightiness and inconsistency of purpose. He had furnished his mind,
so to say, with fixed principles, and he hated the notion of a mind which
was unfurnished.
All these mental qualities taken together go far to make up the complete
idea of a perfect administrator of miscellaneous financial business, such
as that of the English Treasury now is. And Mr. Wilson had the physical
qualities also. An iron constitution which feared no labour, and was
very rarely incapacitated even for an hour by any illness, enabled him
to accomplish with ease and unconsciously an amount of work which few
men would not have shrunk from. In the country, where his habits were
necessarily more obvious, he habitually spent the whole day from eleven
till eight, with some slight interval for a short ride in the middle of
the day, over his Treasury bag; and as such was his notion of a holiday,
it may be easily conceived that in London, when he had still more to
do in a morning, and had to spend almost every evening in the House of
Commons, his work was greater than an ordinary constitution could have
borne. And it was work of a rather peculiar kind. Some men of routine
habits spend many hours over their work, but do not labour very intensely
at one time; other men of more excitable natures work impulsively, and
clear off everything they do by eager efforts in a short time. But Mr.
Wilson in some sense did both. Although his hours of labour were so very
protracted, yet if a casual observer happened to enter his library at any
moment, he would find him with his blind down to exclude all objects of
external interest, his brow working eagerly, his eye fixed intently on
the figures before him, and, very likely, his rapid pen passing fluently
over the paper. He had all the labour of the chronic worker, and all the
labour of the impulsive worker too. And those admitted to his intimacy
used to wonder that he was never tired. He came out of his library in an
evening more ready for vigorous conversation—more alive to all subjects
of daily interest—more quick to gain new information—more ready to
expound complicated topics, than others who had only passed an easy day
of idleness or ordinary exertion.
By the aid of this varied combination of powers, Mr. Wilson was able to
grapple with the miscellaneous financial business of the country with
very unusual efficiency. Most men would have found the office work of
the Secretary of the Treasury quite enough, but he was always ready
rather to take away labour and responsibilities from other departments
than to throw off any upon them. Nor was his efficiency confined to the
labours of his office. The Financial Secretary of the Treasury has a
large part of the financial business of the House of Commons under his
control, and is responsible for its accurate arrangement. The passing
a measure through the House of Commons is a matter of detail; and in
the case of the financial measures of the Government, a large part of
this—the dullest part, and the most unenvied—falls to the Secretary of
the Treasury. He is expected to be the right hand of the Chancellor of
the Exchequer in all the most wearisome part of the financial business of
the House of Commons; and we have the best authority for stating that,
under two Chancellors of the Exchequer very different from one another in
many respects, Mr. Wilson performed this part of his duties with singular
efficiency, zeal, and judgment.
The Financial Secretary of the Treasury is likewise expected to answer
all questions asked in the House as to the civil estimates—a most
miscellaneous collection of figures, as any one may satisfy himself
by glancing at them. Mr. Wilson’s astonishing memory and great power
of lucid exposition enabled him to fulfil this part of his duty with
very remarkable efficiency. He gave the dates and the figures without
any note, and his exposition was uniformly simple, emphatic, and
intelligible, even on the most complicated subjects. The great rule, he
used to say, was to answer exactly the exact question; if you attempted
an elaborate exposition, collateral issues were necessarily raised, a
debate ensued, and the time of the House was lost.
Mr. Wilson’s mercantile knowledge and mercantile sympathies were found
to be of much use in the consolidation of the Customs in 1853, and he
took great interest in settling a scheme for the payment of the duties in
cheques instead of bank-notes, by which the circulation has been largely
economised and traders greatly benefited. During the autumn of 1857, his
long study of the currency question, and his first-hand conversancy with
the business of the City, were valuable aids to the Administration of the
day in the anxious responsibilities and rapidly shifting scenes of an
extreme commercial crisis. It would be impossible to notice the number of
measures in which he took part as Secretary of the Treasury, and equally
impossible to trace his precise share in them. That office ensures to its
holder substantial power, but can rarely give him legislative fame.
On two occasions during his tenure of office at the Treasury, Mr. Wilson
was offered a different post. In the autumn of 1856 he was offered the
Chairmanship of Inland Revenue, a permanent office of considerable value
then vacant, which he declined because he did not consider the income
necessary, and because (what some people would think odd) it did not
afford sufficient occupation. It was a ‘good pillow,’ he said, ‘but
he did not wish to lie down.’ The second office offered him was the
Vice-Presidency of the Board of Trade in 1855, which would have been
a step to him in official rank, but which would have entailed a new
election, and he did not feel quite secure that the electors of Westbury
would again return him. He did not, however, by any means wish for the
change, as the Vice-Presidency of the Board of Trade, though nominally
superior, is in real power far inferior to the Secretaryship of the
Treasury.
In the general election of 1857, Mr. Wilson was returned for Devonport,
for which place he continued to sit till his departure for India. He went
out of office on the dissolution of Lord Palmerston’s Administration in
the spring of 1858, and took an active part in the Liberal opposition
to Lord Derby’s Government, though it may be remarked that he carefully
abstained from using the opportunities afforded him by his long
experience at the Treasury, of harassing his less experienced successors
in financial office by needless and petty difficulties.
On the return of the Liberal party to power, Mr. Wilson was asked to
resume his post at the Treasury, but he declined, as, after five years
of laborious service, he wished to have an office of which the details
were less absorbing. He accepted, however, the Vice-Presidency of the
Board of Trade—an office which is not in itself attractive, but which
gives its possessor a sort of claim to be President of the Board at the
next vacancy. The office of President is frequently accompanied by a seat
in the Cabinet, and Mr. Wilson’s reputation on all subjects connected
with trade was so firmly established that in his case it would have been
practically impossible to pass him over, even if it had been wished.
He had, however, secured so firm a position in official circles by his
real efficiency, that the dispensers of patronage were, as he believed,
likely to give him whatever he desired as soon as the exigencies of party
enabled them to do so.
He had not been long in office before he had good reason for thinking
that he would be offered by the Government the office of Financial Member
of the Council of India under very peculiar circumstances. There had
never before been such an officer. One member of Council had since 1833
been always sent out from England, but he had always been a lawyer, and
his functions were those of a jurist and a regulative administrator, not
those of a financier. The mutiny of the Sepoys in 1857 had, however, left
behind it a deficit with which the financiers of India did not _seem_ to
be able to cope, and which a cumbrous financial system did not give them
the best means of vanquishing. There was a general impression that some
one with an English training and English habits of business would have a
better chance of overcoming the most pressing difficulty of India than
any one on the spot. And there was an equally general impression that
if any one were to be sent from England to India with such an object,
Mr. Wilson was the right person. He united high financial reputation,
considerable knowledge of India acquired at the Board of Control, tried
habits of business, long experience at the English Treasury, to the
sagacious readiness in dealing with new situations which self-made men
commonly have, but which is commonly wanting in others.
On personal grounds Mr. Wilson was disinclined to accept the office.
He was on the threshold of the Cabinet here; he was entitled by his
long tenure of office at the Treasury to a pension which would merge in
the salary of Indian Councillor; the emoluments of the latter office
were not necessary to him; his life was very heavily insured for the
benefit of his family; though he had never during his tenure of office
at the Treasury been connected directly or indirectly with any kind of
commercial undertaking (the _Economist_ alone excepted), some investments
which he made in land and securities, entirely beyond the range of
politics, had been very fortunate; since the year 1844 everything of a
pecuniary kind in which he had been concerned had not only prospered,
but remarkably prospered; he felt himself sufficiently rich to pursue
the career of prosperous usefulness and satisfied ambition that seemed
to be before him here. There was no consideration of private interest
which could induce him to undertake anxious and dangerous duties in
India; he even ran some pecuniary risk in leaving this country, as it was
possible that in the vicissitudes of newspaper property the _Economist_
might again need the attention of its proprietor and founder. On public
grounds, however, he believed that it was his duty to accept the office;
he took a keen interest in Indian finance; believed that the difficulties
of it might be conquered, and thought that in even _attempting_ to
conquer them he would be doing the greatest and most lasting public
service that it was in _his_ power to accomplish.