“Sun, moon, and thou, vain world, adieu,
That kings and priests are plotting in:
Here doomed to starve on water-gru—
el, never shall I see the U—
—niversity of Gottingen—
—niversity of Gottingen.”
Unfortunately for his influence, Canning could not limit his wit
or his pasquinades to the Germans and French. The _Anti-Jacobin_
contained many ludicrous satires on the personal peculiarities of
men like Erskine, Mackintosh, and Coleridge. Some of these made
bitter complaints that the Government should lend its influence to
and should reward the authors of these atrocious calumnies. There is
evidence that the publication was discontinued at the suggestion of
the Prime-Minister in consequence of these complaints, and it is very
probable that Canning’s advancement was retarded by his utter lack of
self-restraint.
On the accession of the Duke of Portland, in 1807, Canning became
Secretary of Foreign Affairs, an office which he held for two years,
till he had a quarrel with Lord Castlereagh, which resulted in a duel,
and not only drove them both out of office, but overthrew the Portland
Ministry. During the next seven years he was out of power, though he
was regular in his parliamentary duties, and it was to him especially
that Lord Wellington was indebted for the firm and even enthusiastic
support of England during his military career.
Canning always regarded himself as the political disciple of Pitt.
To his constituents at Liverpool he said: “In the grave of Mr. Pitt
my political allegiance lies buried.” He owned no other master,
and all his energies were devoted to carrying out Pitt’s policy
of foreign affairs. The part of England in the protection of the
smaller nationalities against the larger ones,—that policy which has
preserved Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, Portugal, and Turkey,—was
but a continuance of the policy of Pitt, though it took definite form
under the influence of Canning, and is quite as often associated with
his name. The doctrine was strongly put forward on three important
occasions. The first was in his speech urging England to join her
fortunes with those of Spain in driving Bonaparte from the Peninsula.
This, as Mr. Seeley, in his “Life of Stein” has shown, was the
turning point in Napoleon’s career, and it is the peculiar glory of
Canning that England was brought into the alliance by his influence.
With pardonable exultation he once said: “If there is any part of
my political conduct in which I _glory_, it is that in the face of
every difficulty, discouragement, and prophecy of failure, _mine_
was the hand that committed England to an alliance with Spain.” The
second occasion was when, in 1822, he was a second time Minister of
Foreign Affairs, and when France was collecting troops to overthrow
constitutional government in Spain, and urging the other foreign
powers, assembled at Verona, to unite in the same purpose, he
despatched Wellington to Verona with so energetic a protest that even
France was dissuaded from the course she had intended to pursue. Again,
in 1826, Canning took a similar course in giving aid to Portugal when
invaded by Spain. His continental policy might be said to consist of
two parts: England should insist that the small governments should not
be disturbed by the larger, and that each nation should be allowed to
regulate its own internal affairs.
On the death of Lord Liverpool, in 1827, Canning became Prime-Minister.
The great question then before the country was the political
emancipation of the Roman Catholics. The Test Act, adopted in the reign
of Charles II., had excluded Catholics from political rights—from seats
in Parliament and from the privilege of voting—and the act was still
in force. With the agitation that was now endeavoring to secure the
emancipation of the Catholics from political disabilities, Canning was
in hearty sympathy. When he was called into supreme power, therefore,
the inference was natural that Catholic emancipation was to be carried
through. Wellington, Peel, and nearly all the Tories in the ministry
threw up their places. Their purpose was to compel Canning to resign;
for knowing his views on the question of emancipation, they were
unwilling to hold office under him. Unfortunately, while the struggle
involved in their resignation was going on, Canning’s health suddenly
gave way, and sinking rapidly, he expired on the 8th of August,
1827, in the fifty-eighth year of his age. It is a singular and an
interesting fact that the very men who, in 1827, refused to follow
Canning in the work of emancipation, were driven two years later by
public opinion to put themselves at the head of the movement.
By many excellent judges Canning is regarded as one of the foremost of
English orators. Brougham speaks of him in terms of almost the highest
praise, and so judicious a critic as Sir James Mackintosh says that
“Mr. Canning seems to have been the best model among our orators of the
adorned style. In some qualities,” he continues, “Mr. Canning surpassed
Mr. Pitt. His diction was more various—sometimes more simple—more
idiomatical, even in its more elevated parts. It sparkled with imagery,
and was brightened by illustration, in both of which Mr. Pitt, for so
great an orator, was defective. Had he been a dry and meagre speaker,
Mr. Canning would have been universally allowed to have been one of the
greatest masters of argument; but his hearers were so dazzled by the
splendor of his diction that they did not perceive the acuteness and
the occasional excessive refinement of his reasoning; a consequence
which, as it shows the injurious effects of a seductive fault, can with
the less justness be overlooked in the estimate of his understanding.”