tried to bring forward, and made much of in the beginning of his
career. He has the stamp of 1848 upon him as deep as Duffy,[150] and I
found him rather literary than politic, more full of good and gracious
aspiration than practical and solid. The Court has done two things
which must, I imagine, raise doubts at Hawarden. They undertake to fix
a rent such as will fairly enable a man to live--that is a rule which
would reduce rent per acre in proportion to the smallness of the
holding, and would extinguish it altogether in the smallest. And they
judge not by the land and buildings, but by the capacity of the
tenant--that will lead them to do more for the worse farmer and less
for the better. On the other hand, it is terrible to read that farmers
cultivating 20 or 30 acres never eat butcher's meat. In France I find
that the families of day labourers have meat for dinner every day. I
am told that there is scarcely an exception.
Hawarden after Knowsley must have been a relief, especially with
Lightfoot, Goldwin Smith, and may I say Harcourt? There is no
room--there never is--for what I have to say.
[Sidenote: _Cannes Nov. 25, 1881_]
I have been away from Cannes for a few days, and am ashamed to be again
behindhand.
If I had not known it before, I should discover now what a good fellow
Alfred Lyttelton is. F. C.'s view does not convince me. The impeding
facts will be there, but the strong will[151] and the untimely gift of
self-disparagement may be too much for the facts.
I am struck by what you say of the omission in Morley's book, which I
am to receive in a few days. A person who has had a large and
legitimate share in {113} its preparation spoke to me some time ago in
a manner which led me to expect that the Treaty narrative would be
hostile to Mr. Gladstone, and would reveal soreness against him on the
part of Cobden. I discussed the thing with him a good deal, but
without materials which would justify me in hoping that I had made an
impression. Since then, Mr. Gladstone has become P.M. and Morley is
editor of one of the principal organs of a part of the ministry. That
explains some degree of reticence, if my former impression was correct.
I do not think such reticence quite worthy of the occasion and the men;
and it would be well that the true story should be told, unless it
should be likely in any way to embarrass the new negotiation. That is
a question that can only be settled at Hawarden.
Knowles proposed that I should review the book, having a Tory review
already undertaken. He offered to bring the volumes to Cannes before
the end of this month. That would not give me the needful time. It
would be necessary, in the dearth of books here, and of all sources of
information besides T. B. Potter, to have some things looked up in
England, by slow process of post. And it would be quite essential to
ascertain how much of what is omitted may be supplied. Not feeling
sure of that, and of the time, I was obliged to decline. If Knowles
comes here, as he portended, I shall have an opportunity of talking it
over with him.
Many, many thanks for the glimpse into that precious Diary.[152] You
will have observed how he {114} demolishes his own argument. He
compares what I say now with what people said of Palmerston. Those
people were wrong because Palmerston left a better man than himself
behind him. But Mr. Gladstone goes on to say that there is nobody
behind him fit to lead, except ----. Just work out the sum in
Proportion: as G. to P., so is X. to G.
And it is not only a question of men, but of elements. There are many
things in the glimpse that are {115} very notable. I fancy that
Goschen's late speech has done him good; but it still seems clear that
he will not shut the door on the Tories. I am in communication with
them[153] again, and should perhaps see them on my way back, if I could
come to Hawarden.
I write this off in haste, before I have an opportunity of showing Mrs.
Gladstone's most kind letter to Lady Acton. I don't like to answer her
until I have done so.
Of course I should like to come beyond anything. If Parliament does
not meet before the proper time, it might be possible to come early in
January. The middle of December would not be quite so easy, for
reasons here. But please tell me if it would be very much better for
reasons paramount. Two thousand miles would be nothing for a good
hour's talk with him, and several hours with his Secretary. I hope the
Temple of Peace would not lose that character by my invasion of its
pacific precincts.
Seeley would be hard on Lecky if he applied those words to his
"Eighteenth Century," which is a weighty, thoughtful book. But the two
former works, by which he became famous, do not really rise much above
the vulgar level. There is nothing in his writings nearly equal to the
new Bampton Lectures.[154]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Cannes Nov. 29, 1881_]
Hartington's speech has not arrived yet; but the French papers describe
him as differing about Ireland from the P.M. and not repelling the idea
of Compensation. As this was not urged at the time, it would now be a
reproach to the Act, which might never have {116} passed with such
conditions. And one neither sees how compensation is to be regulated,
nor by whom; whether by a commission stultifying the present one, or by
the same contradicting itself. And it is very unlike the economic
policy of the P.M. But I can conceive a very powerful argument on the
other side, which the Tories are not likely to use.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Cannes Dec. 2, 1881_]
I have not fired all my shot, and I don't rely on Hartington's
translation. His last speech does not strike me favourably.
He puts away the compensation argument in a fashion more parliamentary
than statesmanlike. In debate, where effects are immediate and
momentary, one is glad of anything that tells against opponents, and
gets used to phrases instead of reasons.
Macaulay was indiscreet enough to write to his constituents on Windsor
Castle paper. It was good material for a laugh, and no more; but Peel
and Graham never let him hear the end of it. "From the proud Keep of
Windsor you bade the lieges have no fear," and such like seemed
equivalent to argument. When one addresses the Nation, with a sort of
Manifesto on a difficult, new, and dangerous question, one must go
straight to the point. We expect of a real statesman that he will take
the case of his adversary not by its weak end, but at its strongest;
that he will see whether he cannot even strengthen it before he
replies. If he deals with the weak points, like a lawyer, somebody
will follow, and will beat him. That is part of the integrity of
public men. And I must say that H.'s idea that he meets the case for
compensation by asking whether rack-renting landlords are to be paid
for their iniquity, {117} exposes him to a rejoinder so crushing as to
damage his position and to strengthen my plea.
There is no constructive power among the Whigs. There is some among
the Democrats, because their principles have been thought out, and
provide legislation for generations. But the two men capable of
working out thoughts into system on other than purely democratic lines
are Derby and Goschen. And they are outside, and do not really
contribute to the force of the party.
* * * * *
There was that omission in my former letter--not quite by accident.
Many things are better for silence than for speech: others are better
for speech than for stationery. I have a large store of these.
[Sidenote: _Cannes Dec. 14, 1881_]
---- is so much stronger that I really believe that I shall be able to
run over for a short visit, and the temptation is strong upon me to
take your kind words literally. May I come--by the morning train from
town--on Monday, the second day of 1882? It would be the pleasantest
beginning of a New Year that I could possibly imagine, after a
melancholy autumn.
To-morrow I am off to Nice with M., after the Blue Rose, and Christmas
presents for the others. They tell me that Mr. Cross[155] is here. If
so, I hope to have a talk with him about the difficult life he is
writing.
I have been looking forward to the books of the Year, which I have not
had courage to send for, especially the life of the most fascinating
writer[156] of the day, and the letters of Bishop Thirlwall. I am glad
to {118} think that I need not stop in London to read them, and am
extremely interested by what you say of Thirlwall. I never found him
very attractive or accessible, personally.
The success of Newnham is a thing to congratulate your sister on. As
to Herbert, the papers enable me to follow his wanderings and
conversations with old Irishwomen. He must be making himself very
useful to Mr. Gladstone; and I rejoice at symptoms in this day's papers
which tend to weaken my inclination to compensation.
Of course you will tell me if the proposed date had better be exchanged
for another, if there is any incompatible visit just then or for any
other reason. I should not start until Thursday, the 29th.
[Sidenote: _Cannes Dec. 27, 1881_]
The telegram summoning me for Saturday arrived late last night. If the
trains keep time, I shall catch the Boulogne tidal from Paris on
Friday, and so obey the summons. I presume there is a 9 or 10 A.M.
train which will land us at Chester early enough in the afternoon to
reach Hawarden about sunset. It looks like an early departure for
Downing Street, which will be an affliction. Or perhaps some visitor
with whom I ought to clash. But I am quite prepared to find the secret
agent of the Vatican at Hawarden, and to look as if I took him for an
African lion....
[Sidenote: _Athenaeum Jan. 7, 1882_]
... I met three Ministers last night at dinner, and the impression is
that Mr. Gladstone is remarkably well. But the Conservatism of London
is something too excessive.
I met at the Russells', Maine, Monck, F. Leveson, and Reay. At the
Athenaeum, Hayward, {119} H. Spencer, May; and there are much worse
croakers than these.
It will be quite refreshing to spend Monday at Seacox, with a man[157]
who is understood to be travelling towards the Ministry, and no longer
away from them. It has been impossible to call in Downing Street; and
I dare say your mother was rushing about. But I am to meet them,
thanks to you as usual, at Lansdowne House this evening.
At the Museum, Poole gave me the papers to read that Mr. Gladstone
spoke of.
* * * * *
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Cannes Jan. 17, 1882_]
In London I saw everybody I had designed to look for, except John
Morley.... Sir Henry Maine got me to criticise the proof of a lecture
on the King and his Successor, which you will see in the February
_Nineteenth Century_. I hope he accepted some of my amendments; but he
was obdurate about the most important. He says that Primogeniture has
been of very great political service. I admitted this, but objected
that there is another side to the question, that Primogeniture embodies
the confusion between authority and property which constitutes modern
Legitimacy, that Legitimacy has, in this century, acted as an obstacle
to free institutions, and that a one-sided judgment thrown off as that
sentence is, gives a Tory tinge to the entire paper. He answered: "You
seem to use Tory as a term of reproach."
I was much struck by this answer--much struck to find a philosopher,
entirely outside party politics, who {120} does not think Toryism a
reproach, and still more, to find a friend of mine ignorant of my
sentiments about it. And I am much tempted to have it out with him,
and discover what he really means. Besides which, I spent some hours
in Mark Pattison's company; found Reay desponding, but eager to speak;
May,[158] very much depressed; H----, pottering feebly, as I thought,
over Montlosier,[159] whom he does not understand, in the _Quarterly_,
and Junius, whom he does not discover, in the "Encyclopaedia";
Monck[160] remarkable as the one happy Irishman.
* * * * *
I should like to impress one thought on your mind: Much will depend on
your success in making the work of the Session sit lightly on the P.M.
in getting him to yield to distractions, even to amusements, and no
longer to consider change of work an equivalent to rest. A house near
town, the play, I had almost said the opera, might be a help. If he
would be unprincipled enough to refuse tiresome dinners, however far
off, and then to accept pleasant ones, at short notice, it would be
worth a great deal. In short, a little demoralisation is the best
security I can see for the supreme perfecting of his career.
By-the-bye, you condemn me for my indefinite answers to some very
searching questions; and I find you are right. At least I have read a
paper on the Revised Version which satisfies me that I ought to have
joined more heartily in Mr. Gladstone's censure of it. But I have been
reading it to my children, and it had got associated with very sweet
moments. Once {121} more, I perceive that my letter is full of
everything except yourself....
[Sidenote: _Cannes Jan. 25, 1882_]
I return the letter of my heroine[161] with many thanks. It reminds me
of what she wrote to me. If I could find it I would send it to you....
I think there is a piece of truth in Mr. Ottley's remark. Her
strongest conviction, the keystone of her philosophy, was the idea that
all our actions breed their due reward in this world, and that life is
no reign of reason if we put off the compensation to another world.
That is a moral far more easily worked in cases of outward, transitive
sin than in those which disturb only the direct relations of man with
God. These indeed are cases which may partly depend on our belief in
God, not only in humanity and human character. Deny God, and whole
branches of deeper morality lose their sanction. Here I am preaching
against Bradlaugh, after all!
Her genius would no doubt reveal to her consequences which others
cannot imagine. But still the inclination of a godless philosophy will
be towards palpable effects and those about which there is no mistake.
Especially in a doctrine with so little room for grace and forgiveness,
where no God ever speaks except by the voice of other men. Defined and
brought to book, that is a detestable system. But it is not on the
surface--and many men can no more be kept straight by spiritual motives
than we can live without policemen.
Still there is a piece of truth in this paganism. Looking at history,
not at biography, taking societies, and not individuals, we cannot deal
with things seen by God alone; things take other proportions; the scale
of {122} vice and virtue is not that of private life; we judge of it by
its outward action, and hesitate to penetrate the secrets of
conscience. The law of visible retribution is false even there. But
it is true that the test and measure of good and evil is not that of
the spiritual biographer.
I shall punish Sir H. Maine with your very striking remark about
Toryism.
* * * * *
That is a perilous point, about suspiciousness. By all means we should
think well until forced to think ill of people. But we must be
prepared for that compulsion; and the experience of history teaches
that the uncounted majority of those who get a place in its pages are
bad. We have to deal chiefly, in life, with people who have no place
in history, and escape the temptations that are on the road to it. But
most assuredly, now as heretofore, the Men of the Time are, in most
cases, unprincipled, and act from motives of interest, of passion, of
prejudice cherished and unchecked, of selfish hope or unworthy fear.
[Sidenote: _Cannes Feb. 20, 1882_]
I spent at Rome a most interesting fortnight, explaining the history of
the Church and of the world to M., listening to a great debate on the
representation of minorities, and hearing a good deal of the M.P.[162]
who neither has nor has not a mission. We wound up with two days at
Florence, and I accompanied M. to Genoa, along the finest part of the
Riviera, and then went to Bologna, to a dying relation. All which has
stood in the way of coming home, of writing, and of knowing what is
going on. I am reading up the debates, and your letters light up the
task.
{123}
* * * * *
Bonghi, who has a volume of Roman History ready, spent an afternoon
with me in the Forum; but proved unsound about Ireland. Minghetti took
us over the palace of the Caesars, as they call the Palatine. I took M.
the round of imperial statues and monuments of the Popes, hanging a
tale to each, and I am afraid her impressions of history are gloomy.
We made up for it a little at Santa Croce, with Dante and Fossombroni;
and in Savonarola's cell at S. Marco, I sat in his chair, and told her
of the friar who died for his belief that the way to make men better
was to make them free.
I was not happy about Errington. Everybody spoke well of him. But
there was too manifest a desire to amplify the significance of his
position, and to entangle him in Roman schemes and views.
Schloezer's first visit was to me, as we lived in the same house, and
are old friends. They, at least, have something to offer; but the
mission seems to me very ambiguous.
I have long wished for that declaration about self-government; but I am
persuaded that there has been as much statesmanship in the choice of
the time as of the terms. There is so much danger of being deserted on
that line, and of one's friends combining to effect a reaction. It
will not do to make too much of the speech of 1871. The occasion, last
week, gave extraordinary weight to Mr. Gladstone's words; and he would
not now say that the movement is superfluous, or that Ireland always
got what she wanted. The risk is that he may seem to underrate the
gravity of a great constitutional change, in the introduction of a
federal element.
{124}
Liberty depends on the division of power. Democracy tends to unity of
power. To keep asunder the agents, one must divide the sources; that
is, one must maintain, or create, separate administrative bodies. In
the view of increasing democracy, a restricted federalism is the one
possible check upon concentration and centralism.
But I am very anxious about one thing. If Mr. Gladstone thinks that he
cannot carry his colleagues, his party, Parliament, or the nation with
him, and declines to take the lead in this movement, the throwing out
of the idea may become a source of weakness. They will say that he
waits for the initiative of others, that he is expecting a wind, that
he is ready to be squeezed, if others will do it for him, that he looks
on opinion as a thing to be obeyed, not to be guided--and so will
proceed to put pressure on him and to make demonstrations not at all in
conformity with his spirit and purpose.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Cannes Feb. 25, 1882_]
Goschen agreed to go with me to Paris, and changed his mind at the last
moment. The consequence was that I did not stop at Paris, and some
letters which were sent there from Seacox have only just reached me.
And so I have left unanswered your birthday letter, and seemed to
disregard the reproach as well as the kindness it expresses.
I will not say that, in the former, there is not much that I have had
to consider. Still, in giving up one's home, and country, and friends
and occupations, there is at least a mixture of good motives with
selfish ones, and something sacrificed, if there is also a good deal of
calculated pleasure-seeking and ease. If I held an appointment abroad,
keeping me permanently away {125} from my--very modest--estate, you
would say that the Government was insane to offer it, but you would
hardly think it wrong of me to accept it. And the duty I have allowed
to precede all other duties is one that possesses a strong, and
unmistakable, claim on me. Between my children and my Shropshire
neighbours my choice is indeed decided. Do not, when I have the
happiness of seeing you again, allow these shortcomings and these
backslidings of mine to interfere with that better topic--which is
yourself, but which gets no chance.
I am seeing a good deal of the Mallets. He is getting over a very bad
illness, and seems to like Cannes, in spite of Sir E. Colebrooke and
the _Pall Mall_. I have succeeded in making Sir Louis shake his head
over the secret Jacobinism of his friend Morley. Yesterday I had the
pleasure of dining with your favourite correspondent.
Your view of the speech introducing the new Procedure is far more just
than R.'s. It displayed that serene mastery and lightness of touch
which are the latest growth or ripest form of his talent, rather than
the controlling and compelling power which we know so well. As to the
censure,[163] I hold the necessity of keeping the working of the Act
from interference; but I cannot admit that the case of the
Commissioners is good, at the weakest point. The defence of their
general action seems to me triumphant; but I don't think the attack has
been met in the particulars; and the common maxim of all constitutional
governments, to stand by one's subordinates in their need, is, I think,
a very dangerous one.
{126}
"John Inglesant" has been begun but not finished, for want of time in
London. Here is a letter which it can be no indiscretion to show you,
on that interesting subject. I did not, in reply, quite confirm the
critic's doubts, though I probably could not remove them. I would
rather regard it as a philosophical than as a historical work.
And I missed the _Athenaeum_ Summary. When one comes to classify all
that appears, the gaps strike one as much as the bulk. Still, in the
narrow domain of my own book--"The Madonna of the Future"[164]--every
week brings several new publications that are sure to contribute some
light or some difficulty.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Cannes March 4, 1882_]
We have no particulars yet, and I still hope it was not an
Irishman.[165] The villa at Mentone stands in the midst of dark olive
woods, scarcely a mile from the frontier, and less than a furlong from
the sea. It will require to be well guarded.
I have followed the conflict with the keen attention you may imagine,
and rejoice quite as much as anybody in Downing Street at the personal
triumph, and at the accession of strength which is due so entirely to
his own efforts and belongs exclusively to himself. It is a gain for a
better cause than the Ministry. We are just in that intermediate state
in which the issue at Northampton[166] is unknown, but seems certain,
which will be a relief.
The correspondence with Gardiner has gone on at {127} some length, and
the problem is very interesting. He persists in rejecting the story.
I now understand that John Inglesant is willing to be received, but is
told by the Jesuit that he is safe if, with that belief and
disposition, he remains an Anglican.
I imagine that he might have argued in this way: Roman Catholic divines
hold that the 39 Articles may be understood in a favourable sense.
Anglicans hold that they are not literally binding on the clergy.
Still less on the laity. Therefore his position in the English Church
does not involve this layman in any error. It may involve him in
certain dangers and difficulties. But these are not greater than the
dangers and difficulties which would follow his conversion. For there
are many opinions, not only sanctioned but enforced by the authorities
of the Church of Rome, which none can adhere to without peril to the
soul. The moral risk on one side is greater than the dogmatic risk on
the other. He can escape heresy in Anglicanism more easily than he can
escape the ungodly ethics of the papacy, the Inquisition, the Casuists,
in the Roman Communion. The solicitation, the compulsion, will be more
irresistible in the latter. A man who thought it wrong to murder a
Protestant King would be left for hell by half the Confessors on the
Continent. Montagu, Bramhall will not sap this man's Catholic faith so
surely as the Spanish and Italian moralists will corrupt his soul.
There were men, in the XVIIth century, who would have argued in this
way. I can even conceive a Jesuit doing it, for they were much
divided, and there were men amongst them far more deeply and broadly
divided from the prevailing teaching of their own Church, than from the
Catholic party in Anglicanism. But I cannot name any Jesuit living
{128} in Charles I.'s time of whom it could be said with any
probability. So that I am sure not to shake Gardiner's conviction. He
is not well informed in religious history; but as a friend of Brewer he
must have read the life of Goodman, which, I think, Brewer edited.
Gardiner is Irving's son-in-law. His position in that Church inclines
him to Conservative views, and it would be hard for him to admit that
illustrious Catholic divines who did so much for Christian revelation
and for spiritual doctrine were in reality so infamous in their moral
teaching as my hypothesis implies. But I am letting the cat of the
Piazzetta[167] out of the bag.
I do hope that the social duties are not too irksome.
[Sidenote: _Cannes March 9, 1882_]