In the beginning of 1825 the Irish Government, having without

consulting Peel undertaken a foolish prosecution of O'Connell for a

not very dangerous speech, received a heavy rebuff, for the Grand

Jury threw out the Bill, and the prosecution of an Orange leader was

equally unsuccessful. A Bill was about the same time brought in and

carried, suppressing the new association; but it could not suppress

the spirit which it had aroused. O'Connell, however, was thoroughly

alarmed at the state of the country, and as far as possible from

desiring a rebellion, and he was at this time in a very conciliatory

mood. He was perfectly ready to accept an endowment for the

priesthood, which would attach them to the Government, and also a

considerable raising of the Irish franchise. This was the last

occasion on which his party and the Catholic gentry very cordially

concurred, and it was the last occasion on which the Catholic question

could have been settled on a basis that would have given real strength

to the Empire. A Relief Bill passed through all its stages in the

Commons by considerable majorities, and it was followed by a Bill for

raising the qualifications of Irish electors, and by a resolution for

endowing the priesthood. O'Connell fully believed that Catholic

emancipation would definitely pass in this session,[38] and he

appeared to have excellent reasons for his belief. In Ireland it

generally prevailed, and it exercised an immediate pacifying

influence. Lord Fingall and other Catholic noblemen, in presenting an

address at this time to the King, were able to say 'the whole of

Ireland reposes in profound tranquillity, and the law, without the aid

of any extraordinary power, everywhere receives voluntary obedience.'

It was afterwards stated by Lord George Bentinck that Peel had changed

his opinions about Catholic emancipation in 1825, and had communicated

this change to Lord Liverpool. The letters before us, however,

conclusively prove that if Peel was shaken, it was not about the

merits of emancipation, but about the practicability of resisting it.

Having been four times defeated in the Commons on the Catholic

question, he tendered his resignation, and Lord Liverpool at once

declared that without his assistance he could not continue the

struggle. Peel was the only Minister in the House of Commons opposed

to the Catholic cause, differing on the question from all his

colleagues in the House. If he had resigned, and if Lord Liverpool had

followed his example, there is good reason to believe that a

Government might have been formed which would have carried the measure

safely and speedily with the securities that had been accepted. Most

unfortunately for the Empire, the 'Protestant' party persuaded Peel to

withdraw his resignation in order to avert this surrender. In the

House of Lords the Duke of York, who was the heir-presumptive to the

throne, stood up and declared his unalterable opposition to the

Catholic claims, 'whatever might be his situation in life, so help him

God,' and the Lords rejected the Bill by a majority of 48.

The conscientious views of George III. obtained some measure of

respect even from those who believed them to be most unfounded; but no

halo of sanctity dignified the scruples of George IV. or of the Duke

of York. The Irish Catholics, exasperated at the present

disappointment of their hopes, and at the prospect of another hostile

King, flung themselves into a furious agitation, and in a few months

all the progress which had been made towards pacifying the country was

undone, while in England Peel had to meet a terrible commercial

crisis. Seventy county banks stopped in less than a week. In dealing

with questions of commerce and currency Peel was always in his

element, and his measures appear to have been wise and skilful. A

general election took place, and he was again returned by the

University of Oxford as the uncompromising opponent of Catholic

emancipation. In England the anti-Catholic party gained some seats,

and the increasing violence in Ireland had produced some reaction. In

Ireland it was soon apparent that what Grattan had feared had come to

pass, and that the tie which had hitherto attached the people to their

landlords was completely broken. The priests everywhere appeared at

the head of their people, and it was at once seen that a new and

terrible power was dominating Irish politics. In Waterford, where the

Beresfords had long been omnipotent, they were totally defeated, and

Leslie Foster sent Peel a vivid description of his own defeat in the

Louth election. At the outset of the contest, upwards of five-sixths

of the votes were promised to him; but the whole priesthood turned

themselves into electioneering agents against him. In every chapel

there were political sermons; the priests menaced all who voted for

him with eternal damnation; they were present at every polling-booth

to overawe their parishioners; and their efforts were seconded by

savage mobs who waylaid and beat all opponents, and forced multitudes

of Protestants, by threats of assassination or of the burning of their

houses, to vote against their promises and their convictions. 'In the

county town the studied violence and intimidation were such that it

was only by locking up my voters in enclosed yards that their lives

were preserved.' By these means the election was won. What, asked

Foster, will be the end of this? 'The landlords are exasperated to the

utmost, the priests swaggering in their triumph, the tenantry sullen

and insolent. Men who, a month ago, were all civility and submission

now hardly suppress their curses when a gentleman passes by. The text

of every village orator is, "Boys, you have put down three lords;

stick to your priests, and you will carry all before you."'

The letters of Goulburn, the Chief Secretary, show that the picture

was not overcharged.

'Never,' he wrote, 'were Roman Catholic and Protestant so decidedly

opposed. Never did the former act with so general a concert, or place

themselves so completely under the command of the priesthood.' 'The

priests exercise on all matters a dominion perfectly uncontrolled and

uncontrollable. In many parts of the country their sermons are purely

political, and the altars in the several chapels are the rostra from

which they declaim on the subject of Roman Catholic grievances, exhort

to the collection of rent, or denounce their Protestant neighbours in

a mode perfectly intelligible and effective, but not within the grasp

of the law. In several towns no Roman Catholic will now deal with a

Protestant shop-keeper, in consequence of the priest's interdiction,

and this species of interference, stirring up enmity on one hand and

feelings of resentment on the other, is mainly conducive to outrage

and disorder.... The first vacancy on the Roman Catholic bench is to

be supplied by Dr. England from America, a man of all others most

decidedly hostile to British interests and the most active in

fomenting the discord of this country.... With such leaders it is

reasonable to anticipate the worst. It is impossible to detail in a

letter the various modes in which the Roman Catholic priesthood now

interfere in every transaction of every description, how they rule the

mob, the gentry, and the magistracy, and how they impede the

administration of justice.' Their power is greater than any other in

the State, 'and they love to display it, and omit no opportunity of

taunting their adversaries.' 'The state of society here is so

disorganised, and the Government has so inferior an authority to other

powers acting on the people, that the opinion formed to-day may be

quite changed to-morrow.'[39]

The election of 1826 virtually carried Catholic emancipation, for it

reduced Ireland to a state in which it was impossible long to resist

it. Clear-sighted men had no difficulty in perceiving that the policy

of Peel had failed to avert it, though it had succeeded in making

impossible the securities which Grattan and the wisest men of his

generation had pronounced indispensable for its safe working, in

kindling religious hatreds as intense as in the darkest period of the

eighteenth century, in breaking down that healthy relation and

subordination of classes on which beyond all other things the future

well-being of Ireland depended. Peel was not wholly blind to what was

happening. 'A darker cloud than ever,' he wrote, 'seems to me to

impend over Ireland, that is if one of the remaining bonds of society,

the friendly connection between landlord and tenant, is

dissolved.'[40] He still persuaded himself, however, that the

political power of the priests was transient, and that a reaction

would set in that might destroy it. The defeat of the Catholic

question in the new Parliament by a majority of four encouraged him in

his resistance. In January 1827 the death of the Duke of York removed

one serious obstacle to the Catholic cause, and six weeks later Lord

Liverpool, who had so long held together the divided Ministry, was

struck down by apoplexy. Peel would gladly have continued in his

present position if a peer of real weight who held his opinions on the

Catholic question was appointed to the vacant place. But there was no

such peer, except Wellington, to be found, and under Wellington

Canning refused to serve. Canning had, indeed, now fully resolved to

be at the head of the Administration, and Peel refused to serve under

him.

With his opinions on the Catholic question it is impossible to blame

him, and the letters which passed between the two statesmen are very

honourable to both, and show clearly that in spite of great divergence

of opinion, character, and interests, each could recognise the good

faith of the other. In a letter written to one of his brothers Peel

describes his position with complete frankness:

'I am content with my position in the Government, and willing to

retain it--willing to see Mr. Canning leader of the House of Commons,

as he has been. But giving him credit for honesty and sincerity, if he

is at the head of the Government, and has all the patronage of the

Government, he must exert himself as an honest man to carry the

Catholic question; and to the carrying of that question, to the

preparation for its being carried, I never can be a party. Still less

can I be a party to it for the sake of office.'

These words were written little more than a year before Peel

undertook, as Minister of the Crown, to introduce a measure of

Catholic emancipation. But if they do little credit to his prescience,

no one can mistake the accent of sincerity in what follows:

'I do not choose to see new lights on the Catholic question precisely

at that conjuncture when the Duke of York has been laid in his grave

and Lord Liverpool struck dumb by the palsy. Would any man, woman, or

child believe that after nineteen years' stubborn unbelief I was

converted, at the very moment Mr. Canning was Prime Minister, out of

pure conscience and the force of truth?'[41]

With the resignation of Peel and the other anti-Catholic members of

Lord Liverpool's Government, and the formation of the short Canning

Ministry, this instalment of Peel's letters comes to an end.[42] We

rejoice that the publication of this very interesting correspondence

has been entrusted to an editor who is at once so competent and so

judicious.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] _Life of Lord George Bentinck_, p. 304.

[11] Lewis's _Letters_, p. 226.

[12] _Private Correspondence of Sir R. Peel, 1788-1827_. Ed. by C.S.

Parker, M.P., 1891, p. 24.

[13] _Ibid._ p. 27.

[14] _Hansard_, First Ser. xxi. 663.

[15] Butler's _Hist. Memoirs_, ii. 177.

[16] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 80.

[17] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 83.

[18] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 76.

[19] _Peel Correspondence_, pp. 217, 218.

[20] _Peel Correspondence_, pp. 222-224.

[21] _Ibid._ p. 212.

[22] _Ibid._ p. 284.

[23] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 282.

[24] _Ibid._ pp. 114-116, 211, 218.

[25] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 60.

[26] _Ibid._ p. 275.

[27] _Ibid._ p. 96.

[28] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 211.

[29] _Ibid._ pp. 215, 219, 220.

[30] _Peel Correspondence_, pp. 207, 231, 235, 236.

[31] _Peel Correspondence_, pp. 87-92.

[32] _Ibid._ pp. 244, 265.

[33] _Ibid._ pp. 167, 233.

[34] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 348.

[35] _Peel Correspondence_, pp. 349, 358, 359, 370-371.

[36] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 358.

[37] _Ibid._ pp. 315-317.

[38] Fitzpatrick's _Correspondence of O'Connell_, i. p. 108.

[39] _Peel Correspondence_, pp. 416, 418, 419, 422.

[40] _Ibid._ pp. 413, 420.

[41] _Peel Correspondence_, p. 485.

[42] Two more volumes have been published since this Essay was

written.--ED.

EDWARD HENRY, FIFTEENTH EARL OF DERBY

The time has not yet arrived for the publication of a full life of the

late Lord Derby, but in submitting to the public a collection of his

more important speeches outside Parliament, a short sketch of the

chief features of his life and character may not be out of place.

Edward Henry, fifteenth Earl of Derby, was born July 21, 1826, and was

educated at Rugby, and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he obtained a

First Class in classics. In March 1848 he unsuccessfully contested

Lancaster, and soon after started for a long and instructive journey

in America and the West Indies. During his absence from England he was

elected Member for Lynn Regis upon the death of Lord George Bentinck

in September 1848, and he held this seat without interruption till his

accession to the earldom in October 1869. His first speech in the

House of Commons was delivered on May 31, 1850, on the sugar duties.

The effect on the West Indies of the abolition of the preferential

duty on sugar was a subject which he had specially studied during his

journey, and he had published a pamphlet upon it. Sir Robert Peel

greatly praised his maiden speech, and Greville describes the great

impression which it made--an impression which a further knowledge of

the speaker speedily confirmed.

The appearance in Parliament of the eldest son of one of the most

brilliant party leaders of the age could scarcely fail to be a

considerable political event, and it was soon found that the new

member was not only a man of rare ability, but was also in nearly all

respects very unlike his illustrious father. Never was there a more

striking instance of that strange freak of heredity by which an able

son is sometimes much less the continuation than the complement of an

able father, exhibiting in strongly contrasted lights both opposite

qualities and opposite defects. The fourteenth Earl was a great

orator. He was one of the greatest debaters who have ever lived. He

was a party leader of extraordinary power, delighting in political

conflict; throwing into it much of the fire and passion which he

displayed in his sporting contests; little fitted to conciliate

opponents, but eminently fitted to win the enthusiastic loyalty of his

followers, to rally a dispirited minority, to lead a party attack. His

keen and rapid judgment; his perfect command of pure and lucid

English; his unfailing readiness in argument, invective, sarcasm, and

repartee; his indomitable courage, and the somewhat imperious dignity

of his manner, all marked him out for the position which he held. If

there was some truth in the common taunt that he was more a party

leader than a statesman, it must at least be remembered that he has

identified his name with several important measures, and that during

most of his career he was in a hopeless minority. His enemies accused

him of rashness, arrogance, and some superficiality, both of thought

and knowledge. They alleged that he carried too much of the sporting

spirit into politics; that his naturally excellent judgment was often

deflected by the passions of the fray; that he was accustomed to

judge measures more by their party advantages than by their intrinsic

merits, and to care more for an immediate triumph than for ultimate

results.

His son was made in a very different mould. Though like most able and

clear-headed men he acquired by much practice a respectable facility

in purely extemporaneous argument, he was never a great debater. His

speeches were very carefully prepared, and they possessed conspicuous

merits of form as well as of matter, but they were not the speeches of

a brilliant orator. No one could reason more clearly, more powerfully,

or more persuasively. He was a supreme master of terse, luminous,

weighty, and accurate English. He had much skill in bringing into

vivid relief the salient points of an obscure and complicated subject,

condensing an argument into a phrase, and illustrating it by graphic

felicities of language that clung to the memory. But he hated

rhetoric. His enunciation was faulty and unimpressive. He appealed

solely to the reason, and never to passion or to prejudice, and he had

nothing of the fire and temperament of a party orator. Very few

politicians mastered so thoroughly the subjects with which they dealt.

No politician of his time retained so remarkably, amid party

conflicts, the power of judging questions from all their sides; of

balancing judicially opposing considerations; of looking beyond the

passions and interests of the hour; of realising the points of view of

those to whom he was opposed. Declamation, clap-trap, evasion,

ambiguities of thought and expression, empty plausibilities, unfair,

partial, and exaggerated statements, were all essentially repugnant to

that clear and sceptical intellect, to that sound, cautious, practical

judgment. His business talents were very great, and they were

assiduously cultivated. His appetite for work was insatiable. No one

knew better how to administer a great department or preside over a

Parliamentary Committee, or arbitrate in a difficult controversy, or

give wise and timely advice to an inexperienced organisation. It was

in these fields that his influence was, perhaps, most deeply felt. His

success in them did not depend merely on his unflagging industry and

his excellent judgment, it was also largely due to his eminently

conciliatory character. The uniform courtesy which he displayed to men

of all ranks and opinions is happily no rare thing among his class,

but everyone who was brought in contact with Lord Derby soon felt that

he was in the presence of one who tried to understand his position, to

estimate his arguments at their full worth, to find some common ground

of agreement. If it were possible in a bitter controversy to arrive at

reasonable compromise, Lord Derby was most likely to effect it. He had

a curious talent of making speeches with which everyone must agree,

and which at the same time were never commonplace. Their secret lay in

the habit of mind that led him always to seek out the common grounds

of principle or fact that underlie every controversy, and which in the

heat of the conflict the disputants had often failed to recognise.

It was not difficult to forecast the place which a statesman of this

kind was likely to fill in English politics. He was plainly wanting in

many of the qualities of a party leader, and in most of the qualities

of a parliamentary gladiator, and he was not likely to succeed in all

forms of statesmanship. He would certainly not prove

A daring pilot in extremity,

Pleased with the danger when the waves went high.

His clear perception of the objections to any course, combined with a

very deep sense of responsibility, not unfrequently enfeebled his will

in moments when bold and decisive action was required, and there were

times when the love of compromise which was so useful an element in

his character seemed to his best friends too closely allied to

weakness. But he probably saved every party with which he acted from

many mistakes. He brought to every Government which he joined a very

eminent administrative capacity. He defended every policy that he

espoused with a persuasive reasoning that few men could equal. He was

a supremely skilful detector of false weights and of false measures.

Every fad, every new-born enthusiasm, every crude ill-digested theory,

found in him the calmest and most penetrating of critics, and he

inspired the great body of moderate men of all parties with a deep

confidence in his patriotism and in his judgment.

His political position was marked out by the fact that his father had

recently broken away from the Whig connection which had hitherto been

that of his family, and was now the leader of the Conservative party.

The son naturally took his place under his father's banner, but I much

question whether he would have done so if no family influence had

interfered. It was not that he at any time changed considerably his

views. As Macaulay has truly said--while the extremes of the two

English parties are separated by a wide chasm, there is a frontier

line where they almost blend; and Lord Derby when a Conservative

always represented the Liberal, and when a Liberal the Conservative

wing of his party. But his mind had much of the Whig character; his

judgment was very independent; and on Church questions especially he

was never fully in harmony with his party. He was appointed

Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in his father's first

short Ministry in March 1852, at a time when he was travelling in

India, and he left office with his father in December of the same

year. In 1853 he made a remarkable speech on Indian affairs, in some

degree foreshadowing the Indian policy which he was afterwards

destined to take such a large part in carrying into effect. During the

next few years he spoke frequently on Indian and Colonial questions,

on questions connected with education, factories, and other

working-class interests, and he supported--often in opposition to the

majority of his party--a large number of reforms which have since been

accomplished. He advocated the introduction of competitive

examinations, first of all into the Diplomatic, and then into most

branches of the Civil Service. He spoke against the system of purchase

in the army, and served on a Royal Commission on the subject. He

supported a motion for securing to married women their property and

earnings. He took a decided part in opposition to Church rates. He

voted for the emancipation of the Jews. He voted and spoke in favour

of the Maynooth grant. He was an early advocate of the opening of

museums on Sundays, and of a conscience clause to be enforced in all

schools receiving State assistance. He supported the establishment of

the Divorce Court, and clearly showed that preference for social as

distinguished from political questions which he retained through his

whole life. He delighted in placing himself in touch with working men.

Mechanics' institutes, free libraries, almost every movement for the

education and improvement of the working class, found in him a steady

friend. He once wrote to Lord Shaftesbury: 'We are both public men

deeply interested in the condition of the working class, and for my

own part I would rather look back on services such as you have

performed for that class than receive the highest honours in the

employment of the State.' On working-class questions he was often

accused of Radicalism, but it was Radicalism of the old school, which

relied mainly for reform on spontaneous effort, on moral improvement,

and extended education, and was very jealous of State interference,

compulsion, and control. He had a great admiration for Mill's

writings, and especially for his treatise on Liberty, which he

described as 'one of the wisest books of our time.' Mill fully

reciprocated the feeling. He once spoke of Lord Stanley as 'one of the

very few English public men who hold that a politician's opinions

ought to be founded on principles.'

'Our party,' wrote Lord Malmesbury in 1853, 'are angry with Disraeli,

which is constantly the case, and they are also displeased with Lord

Stanley, suspecting him to be coquetting with the Manchester party.'

Greville, nearly at the same time, expressed his belief that Lord

Stanley was taking 'a wise and liberal line,' and that he was 'pretty

sure to act a conspicuous part.' In November 1855 there was a critical

moment in his career, when Lord Palmerston, on the death of Sir

William Molesworth, offered Lord Stanley the post of Secretary of

State for the Colonies. He at once went down to Knowsley to consult

his father, who put a strong veto on the proposal, and the offer was

refused, but in terms which showed that it had been far from

unacceptable. It is probable that the refusal was a wise one, for

although on many home questions Lord Stanley would have found himself

more in harmony with moderate Liberals than with his own party, he

would certainly have dissented from Lord Palmerston's foreign policy.

During the Crimean war he seems to have sympathised with the views of

Bright and Cobden. He took an active part in an able but now nearly

forgotten Tory paper called 'The Press,' which was opposed to the war,

and his extreme horror of war and of every policy which could possibly

lead to war was one of his strongest characteristics. Responsibility

in office never weighed lightly upon him, but responsibility for

measures which led or might lead to bloodshed was more than he could

bear.

At the time when this offer of Lord Palmerston was made, Lord Stanley

was little more than twenty-nine. Greville considered that he had

acted wisely in refusing, and he has given us an interesting account

of the light in which the young statesman then appeared to experienced

political judges. 'His position and abilities,' he said, 'are certain

before long to make him conspicuous, and to enable him to play a very

considerable part. He is exceedingly ambitious, of an independent turn

of mind, very industrious, and has acquired a vast amount of

information. Not long ago Disraeli gave me an account of him and of

his curious opinions--exceedingly curious in a man in his condition of

life and with his prospects. Last night Lord Strangford (George

Smythe) talked to me about him, expressed the highest opinion of his

capacity and acquirements, and confirmed what Disraeli had told me of

his notions and views even more, for he says that he is a real and

sincere democrat, and that he would like if he could to prove his

sincerity by divesting himself of his aristocratic character, and even

of the wealth he is heir to. How far this may be true I know not....

Nothing appears to me certain but that he will play a considerable

part for good or for evil, but I cannot pretend to guess what it will

be. At present he seems to be more allied with Bright than with any

other public man, and as his disposition about the war and its

continuance is very much that of Bright it would have been difficult

for him to take office with Palmerston.'

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