The Greville Memoirs, Part 2 (of 3), Volume 2 (of 3) / A Journal of the Reign of Queen Victoria from 1837 to 1852

by Charles Greville

CHAPTER XIII.

Anecdotes about the Exchequer Bill Forgery—M. de St. Aulaire Ambassador in London—Morbid Irritability of the Duke—Macaulay on Street Ballads—Sir Edmund Head, Poor Law Commissioner—The Duke's Delusion—The Lord Chief Justice closes the Term—Armorial Bearings of the Prince of Wales—Relations of Ministers with the Queen—Lord William Russell recalled from Berlin—Arbitrary Appointment of Magistrates—Anecdote of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough—Lord Spencer on the Corn Laws—Lord Lieutenancy of Northamptonshire—Visit to Bowood—Mrs. Fanny Kemble—Macaulay's Conversation—Macaulay's Departure—Lord Ashburton's Mission—The Chinese War—Unpopularity of Lord Palmerston—A Diplomatic Squabble—Prussian Treatment of Newspapers—Fire at Woburn Abbey—Duke of Wellington himself again—King of Prussia arrives—Proceedings of the Government—The Duke of Buckingham resigns—Relations with France—Opening of the New Parliament—King of Prussia's Visit—The Speech from the Throne—Lord Palmerston's Hostility to France—The Queen and Her Ministers—Dispute about a Scotch Judge—Corn Laws—A Letter from Jellalabad—The Corn Law Debate—The Battersea Schools—A Calm—Sir Robert Peel's Budget—The Disaster at Cabul—Death and Funeral of the Marquis of Hertford—Sir Robert Peel's Financial Measures—The Whig View of Peel—Archdeacon Singleton—Lord Munster's Death—Colonel Armstrong—Theatricals at Bridgwater House—Summary of the Session—The Occupation of Afghanistan—Lord Wellesley's Opinion—Afghan Policy of the Government—Lord Ashburton's Treaty—The Missing Map.

November 24th, 1841.—If I do not vary the nature and enlarge the scope of this Journal, I shall very soon be completely aground and have nothing whatever to put down, for I am placed in very different circumstances with the present and the late Government. I have no intimacy or social habits with any of these people, and the consequence is that I know little or nothing of what is going on. I have, for a long time past, accustomed myself to what is, I believe, a very foolish, unprofitable way of writing. I have almost entirely given up entering anything except such scraps of political information as I have picked up by one means or another, and consequently have grown very idle, and my entries have often had long intervals between them. Somebody remarked the other day what innumerable things were lost for want of some curious observer and chronicler, who would be at the trouble of recording and hoarding them in something less voluminous, and therefore more accessible than the columns of a newspaper. I was struck with the truth of this, and thought how many anecdotes, verses, jeux d'esprit, and miscellanies of various kinds I might have rescued from oblivion, but had never thought of doing so, because they had appeared in newspapers. Partly, therefore, because it may be more or less interesting and amusing, and partly because I think I shall have no political facts or circumstances to record, I have resolved to fill my pages with more general matter, although, such is the inveterate force of habit, I am anything but sure that I shall adhere to my resolution.

The other night I heard how the Exchequer Bill affair was first discovered. Some merchant in the City wrote to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and told him that there was some great negligence in the Exchequer Bill Office, for he was in possession of two bills, both of the same number. Goulburn sent for Maule, and told him to go to the Exchequer and enquire into this. He went and told his errand, on which Smith asked him to go with him into the next room. He went, when Smith said, 'The fact is, one of these bills is forged. There has been a system of forgery going on for many years, and I am guilty of being concerned in it.' Maule asked him if he had any objection to repeat this confession in the presence of his clerk, who was below, and he said, none whatever. He might easily have got away, but now they think his confession was a stroke of policy, and that he made it, believing that no law will reach him.

THE FORGERY OF EXCHEQUER BILLS.

Another curious thing has happened. Lord Sudeley went with his brother to some sparring exhibition, where their pockets were picked. The brother had had the precaution to clear his of everything valuable, but Lord Sudeley lost three Exchequer bills of 1,000l. each. He gave notice of his loss, and the usual means were adopted for recovering the bills, the numbers stopped, and so forth. Not long ago a man came into a banker's at Liverpool, and said he was going abroad, and wanted money, and would be much obliged if they would give him some in exchange for an Exchequer bill. He handed the bill in, when the banker, on looking at it, thought it was the same number as one of the advertised bills, and he told the gentleman that such was the case. The man expressed ignorance and surprise, but said that of course he could not expect the money under such circumstances, and begged he would give him back the bill. The other said he was sorry he could not do that, as he was bound to detain it. 'Well, then,' said the man, 'if that is the case, I will call again to-morrow, and you will be able, in the meanwhile, to enquire further into the business.' But the banker replied he could not allow him to go either, and was under the necessity of detaining him as well as the bill. A police-officer was sent for, and the gentleman was led into another room. Having secured his person, they concluded that the other Exchequer bills were probably not far off, and that somebody would call in the course of the day to make enquiry about the person in custody, and for this expected visit they set a watch. In a short time a man did come and enquire, when they told him the gentleman had been obliged to go off to London. The officer followed the enquirer to his lodging and into his room, where he explained the object of his visit. The man said he might make any search he pleased, which he immediately did, but without success. He was therefore preparing to leave the room, but as he passed the bed his eye fell upon a waistcoat, which the man had just taken off and thrown upon it. He had already searched the pockets before the man had taken it off, but nevertheless was tempted to take the waistcoat up again, when suddenly the man flew upon him, and seized him by the throat. A violent struggle ensued, but eventually the officer was able to examine the waistcoat closely, and concealed therein were the other two Exchequer bills. Thus all three were recovered, but they turned out to be all three forged.

I have had a letter from M. Guizot, desiring I would make M. de St. Aulaire's acquaintance, and be civil to him, and St. Aulaire told Reeve that he had been desired by Guizot to cultivate him and me as the two most valuable acquaintances he could make.[16] I have been presented to him, and we had a long palaver the other night, in which he was extremely civil and cordial; but I am so out of the habit of speaking French, that I find myself floundering terribly when I get into great talk, which is very stupid and mortifying. I have written to Guizot, and told him I should be very happy to do anything I could for St. Aulaire, and especially to render any assistance in my power to him, but that I must candidly tell him I do not know half so much of what was going on now as I had done when the late Government were in office.

They tell me that Aberdeen is doing very well, working very hard, taking up every question, writing well on them all, and displaying much greater firmness than he did before.

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S CHATTELS.

The Duke of Wellington is remarkably well. I saw him yesterday for the first time since the Council at Windsor, and he said he never was better. But he is altered in character strangely. He has now a morbid aversion to seeing people, which nearly amounts to madness. Nobody can get access to him, not even his nearest relations. When anybody applies for an interview, he flies into a passion, and the answers which he dictates to letters asking for audiences, or asking for anything, are so brutally uncivil and harsh that my brother Algy constantly modifies or alters them. The Duke fancies he is so engaged that he cannot spare time to see anybody. This peculiarity is the more remarkable, because formerly his weakness was a love of being consulted by everybody, and mixed up with everything. Nobody was ever in a difficulty without applying to him; innumerable were the quarrels, tracasseries, scandals, intrigues, and scrapes which he had to arrange and compose. He has for a long time past kept up a correspondence with Raikes, encouraging him to write at great length, and punctually answering his letters. Raikes came over here to see what he could get, and the Duke interested himself in his favour, and spoke to Aberdeen; but although they have so long been correspondents, Raikes has never been able to obtain an audience at Apsley House, for though he solicited that favour as soon as he came, the Duke has never once admitted him. I was yesterday with Messrs. Sidebottom, in Lincoln's Inn, for the purpose of settling the disputes between Lord de Mauley and Lord Kinnaird, when they told me what had passed about the Duke's personal property, when a bill was brought in, upon Douro's marriage, to settle a jointure on Lady Douro. They urged him to take that opportunity to entail on the title all the curious and valuable things which had been given him by emperors and kings, and to have a clause inserted in the Bill for that purpose. He consented, but when he saw it, he said he did not like it; he thought the enumeration flashy, and he would have it expunged. At last they hit on an expedient, and they introduced a clause to the effect that anything which he should appoint by deed within two years should be entailed on the title for ever, and they prevailed on him to sign the deed on the very last day of the two years. The value of the property is said to amount to half a million, and a great number of things were brought to light which he did not know that he possessed. If his two sons die without issue, which is very probable, the disposal of all these valuables reverts to him.[17]

November 27th.—On Thursday I dined with Milman,[18] to meet Macaulay, Sydney Smith, and Babbage. Pretty equal partition of talk between Sydney and Macaulay. The latter has been employing his busy mind in gathering all the ballads he can pick up, buying strings of them in the streets, and he gave us an amusing account of the character of this species of literature, repeating lines and stanzas without end. The ballad writers, who may be supposed to represent the opinions and feelings of the masses for whose delectation they compose, do not, according to Macaulay, exhibit very high moral sentiments, as they evince a great partiality for criminals, and are the strenuous opposers of humanity to animals. We dined at the Prebendal House, once Ashburnham House, very handsome, and with one of the most elegant staircases I ever saw anywhere, the work of Inigo Jones. Yesterday I dined with Bingham Baring, Henry Taylor, John Mill (son of the historian and a very clever man), and Emerson Tennent, agreeable enough. The day's newspapers announced the sudden death of Chantrey, the most eminent of contemporary sculptors, but not, I suspect, for I am no judge, of a high order of genius. His busts were very happy, but I am not aware of any great work of imaginative art which he has produced, and his two children in Lichfield Cathedral have always been quoted as the greatest proof of his power.[19]

THE DUKE'S DELUSION.

November 30th.—Graham has made Sir Edmund Head Poor Law Commissioner, an appointment very creditable to him. The Government are certainly going on well, and Tufnell, as strong a Whig as any, told me last night he thought their appointments excellent, and that they were doing very well. This appointment of Head is what Normanby was urged, but was afraid, to make. He shrank from it, however, for very poor reasons, not honourable to himself or to others concerned. First of all, John Russell's trying to thrust Rich upon him, a man not for one moment to be compared with Head, and then because Chadwick was against him. Accordingly he left it to the Tories, fully expecting they would appoint Colonel A'Court; but Graham has thrown over all party considerations, and having, after strict enquiry, satisfied himself that Head is the ablest and the fittest man, he has given him the situation.

A correspondence has just appeared in the papers between the Duke of Wellington and the Paisley deputation, which is exceedingly painful to read, calculated to be very injurious to the Government, whom their enemies are always accusing of indifference to the public distress, and which, in my opinion, exhibits a state of mind in the Duke closely bordering on insanity. This deputation is come up to represent the distress prevailing at Paisley, and they ask for an interview to lay the case before the Duke. He refuses to see them, and writes a letter much in the style of his printed circulars, alleging that he has no time, and that he holds no office, and has no influence. They remonstrate temperately and respectfully, still press for the interview, and then he makes no reply whatever. All this is lamentable; it is a complete delusion he is under; he has nothing to do, and he has boundless influence. When we reflect upon his habits at the time he was Prime Minister, still more when he was in Spain, with such weight on his Atlantean shoulders, when he would find time for everything and for everybody's affairs, and when we compare the language of his despatches, and the conduct they exhibit, with his present querulous tone and pertinacious seclusion, we are painfully struck with the great change that has come over his noble spirit, and it becomes impossible not to regret that in his seventy-third year, and after three epileptic fits, he was not permitted to hold himself free from the trammels, cares, and duties of Executive Government. He might and would have been a great amicus curiæ, aiding with his moral influence the Government, adjusting differences and disputes, ready to be appealed to, to advise and assist in any case of necessity, but not wearing himself out by real or imaginary business, and neither committing the Government by his strange fancies, nor injuring his own popularity by his mortifying and almost savage behaviour to the various people who approach him.

ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.

December 3rd.—I dined again with Bingham Baring yesterday and met Lord FitzGerald, with whom I had a long talk, the first time I have seen him since he came into office. We discussed the Duke of Wellington's Paisley correspondence, and he fully confirmed my impression of the vexation it would cause the Government. It is clear enough that they would be very glad to be without him; and after talking of the unhappy and increasing infirmity of his temper, he expressed his apprehension of the probable consequences in the House of Lords,[20] and that the Government may be seriously compromised by some imprudent or intemperate expressions of the Duke; that, last year, nothing but the extreme forbearance of Brougham, and his good-nature, had prevented some disagreeable results of this kind; and it was now the more serious, when the Duke was to be the organ of the Government, and from his habits and his deafness it would be impossible for anybody to check or restrain him, Lyndhurst placed afar off on the woolsack, and the Duke sitting with his head buried in his chest, and neither consulting with, nor attending to, anyone. In 1835, he said, it had been the Duke's wish to do what he is now doing—to lead the House of Lords without a place; but Peel had then thought this was open to constitutional objections. Why he did not raise the same objections now, I don't know, unless it was that he found the Duke bent on forming part of the Government, and that he would have insisted on the Foreign Office again, if he was not permitted to lead without one. This, however, is mere conjecture. FitzGerald owned that it would have been better if he had retired, and kept aloof from Government. It has been his great misfortune never to have people about him who ventured to oppose his opinions, and he has always liked the society of those who applauded to the skies everything he said and did. As long as his faculties were unimpaired, it is difficult not to believe that if he had had candid and intelligent friends he would have listened to and considered their opinions, for his obstinacy is not the result of pride or vanity, from both of which he is singularly free, but arises from the habit, become inveterate, of trusting entirely to himself and to his own judgement. FitzGerald told me that he had never been more struck by anything than by the despatches and State-papers of Lord Auckland, and that he had no sort of idea he was so able a man; that he was, with the sole exception of John Russell, by far the ablest man of his party. His views most statesmanlike, and his government of India particularly just. I never heard a warmer panegyric than he passed upon Auckland.[21]

There has been a great sensation in the courts of law, in consequence of Lord Denman's suddenly closing the term, on the last day of it, in consequence of the absence of the counsel. He did it in a passion, and though there is much difference of opinion, on the whole he is blamed for it. The evil required a remedy, and the Judges would have done right to lay down some rules for the future; but they have punished the innocent suitors by what they did, and most people think it was wrong in the Chief Justice to vindicate the dignity of his court at their expense.

December 5th.—The difficulties and trouble that may be caused by trifles may be well illustrated by a matter which is now pending. Peel sent for me the day before yesterday, to talk to me about the armorial bearings of the Prince of Wales, a matter apparently very simple and insignificant, but not at all so in fact. The Queen and Prince are very anxious to allot to this baby his armorial bearings, and they wish that he should quarter the arms of Saxony with the Royal arms of England, because Prince Albert is alleged to be Duke of Saxony. The Queen gave the Princess Royal armorial bearings last year by warrant, but it is conceived that more formal proceedings are necessary in the case of the Heir Apparent. The last precedent is that of 1714, when George the First referred to the Privy Council the question of the Prince of Wales's arms, who reported to His Majesty thereupon. On that occasion the initiative was taken by the Deputy Earl Marshal, who transmitted to the Council a draft, which was afterwards approved. Then, however, the case admitted of no doubt; but now the Heralds, and others who have considered the matter, think that the Saxon arms ought not to be foisted upon the Royal arms of England. It is Her Majesty's predilection for everything German which makes her insist on this being done, and she wants it to be done offhand at the next Council without going through the usual forms of a reference and report. Peel, however, is not disposed to let the thing be thus hurried over; he thinks that it is a matter in which the dignity of the Crown is concerned, and that whatever is done should be done with deliberation, and that if the Privy Council are to advise, they ought to advise what is right and becoming, and not merely what she and the Prince wish. The difficulty, therefore, is, how to set the matter going. The Earl Marshal will not stir without an order to do so. If the Home Office order him to submit a draft of the armorial bearings of the Prince of Wales, they can only order him to make out what is right according to the rules and laws of heraldry, and the Earl Marshal is of opinion that what the Queen and Prince wish to be done is inconsistent with those rules. The matter therefore remains in suspense. I have sent to Lord Wharncliffe, by Peel's desire, to come up from Wortley to meet Graham, in order that they may put their heads together and settle this delicate and knotty affair. Melbourne would have made very light of it; he would have thought it did not signify a straw, which, in fact, it does not, and that any fancy the Queen had should be gratified in the most summary way.

THE QUEEN AND THE NEW MINISTRY.

December 8th.—This foolish business of the coat of arms has cost more trouble than many matters a thousand times more important. Peel has had to write at least a dozen long letters about that and the alteration in the Liturgy, and whether His Royal Highness should be inserted before Prince of Wales. Yesterday Wharncliffe, Graham, and I had a conference at the Home Office, when Graham produced a letter from Peel, with one from the Queen to him, pressing for the speedy arrangement of the affair, and treating it as a thing settled. Graham said it was not worth while to squabble about it, and better to gratify her, and he proposed to take it on himself, and let the Council have nothing to do with it, but, on his own responsibility, order the Earl Marshal to draw out a coat of arms, with the achievement according to her wishes, no matter whether right or wrong. We agreed this was the best way. Peel had written to me about the Liturgy, and I wrote him word that when Prince Albert's name was inserted, the Archbishop particularly desired there might be no 'Royal Highness,' and so it was left out.

December 9th.—I saw Graham again yesterday about this business. They have gazetted the child 'Duke of Saxony,' which is very absurd, and at Lady Holland's, last night, the precedence given to that title over the English titles was much criticised. It was amusing to hear Lady Palmerston finding fault, and when I told her it was a particular fancy of the Queen's, to which she clung very tenaciously, she said 'that it was the duty of the Ministers to tell her it was wrong, but they had not the courage to do so.' I asked Graham how they were going on with the Queen. He said, 'Very well. They sought for no favour, and were better without it. She was very civil, very gracious, and even, on two or three little occasions, she had granted favours in a way that was indicative of good will.' He said that they treated her with profound respect and the greatest attention. He made it a rule to address her as he would a sensible man, laying all matters before her, with the reasons for the advice he tendered, and he thought this was the most legitimate as well as judicious flattery that could be offered to her, and such as must gratify her, and the more because there was no appearance of flattery in it, and nothing but what was fit and proper. He said Ellenborough had immediately ingratiated himself with her, by giving her very good summaries of Indian intelligence, and explaining everything to her in his own very good style, so that the moment Peel proposed him to go to India, she said he was the fittest man he could select. I told him that Ellenborough might thank me for this, for I had advised him, the day we went to Windsor, to do so, and told him that she liked to have this done.

Woburn Abbey: December 15th.—Came here last Thursday. A foolish party of idle people; no serious man but Lord Spencer, who came the day before yesterday. I had some talk with the Duke about Lord John's speech at Plymouth, which he does not approve of any more than I do, but he can't venture to say so; also about his other brother William, who is very angry at being recalled from Berlin, though so far from being angry, he ought to be ashamed of himself for not having resigned, for with his violent politics and his bitterness against, and abuse of, the present Government, he ought not to have thought of staying there. Aberdeen has treated him with great civility, and has accompanied his recall with many expressions of regret and personal kindness, for which he ought to be grateful. Palmerston had ordered all his diplomatic tribe to stick to their places, but William Russell should have felt in his case that it was impossible. The Duke of Bedford, however, disapproves of his conduct, and thinks he should have resigned when the Government was changed.

THE DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH'S LETTERS.

I have seen here a correspondence between the Chancellor and Lord Carrington about the appointment of Buckinghamshire magistrates, which is very discreditable to the former, and exhibits an example of authority exercised directly in the teeth of all the principles laid down by the Tories in a case very analogous three years ago. On this occasion the Chancellor, almost immediately after he got the Great Seal, peremptorily appointed fifteen magistrates, which Carrington of course knew very well was a list of the Duke of Buckingham's. He was very angry, and expressed his resentment, but the Chancellor would not give way, and could not satisfy him. Three years ago Lord Howard complained, in the House of Lords, of Lord Cottenham for appointing eight magistrates at Leeds. On that occasion the Duke of Wellington made a speech, in which he laid down what the Lord Chancellor ought to do, and what he ought not to do, and if he had made it in reference to this case, it could not contain a stronger and more applicable censure of the conduct of Lord Lyndhurst. The circumstances, too, make this a much stronger and more odious case than the other.

I have been employed in reading the Duchess of Marlborough's correspondence with her two granddaughters, successively Duchesses of Bedford, and most amusing it is. I have urged the Duke to publish it, and, if Lord John, who is going to publish a volume or more of Bedford papers, does not choose to take the Duchess of Marlborough's letters in hand, to let me arrange them for the press, which he has promised to do. I hardly ever read any letters more expressive of character, and more natural than these, and they abound in shrewd observation and knowledge of human nature, besides a very good sprinkling of anecdotes, some very entertaining. I took Lord Spencer down with me to the librarian's room to look at them, when he told me two anecdotes of John Spencer, her grandson, to whom, after quarrelling with him violently, as she did with everybody else, she left all the property at her disposal.[22] The first was about the cause of their quarrel. She gave a great dinner on her birthday to all her family, and she said that 'there she was, like a great tree, herself the root, and all her branches flourishing round her;' when John Spencer said to his neighbour that 'the branches would flourish more when the root was under ground.' This produced great hilarity, which attracted the notice of old Sarah, who insisted on knowing the cause, when John Spencer himself told her his own bon mot, at which—and no wonder—she took great offence. She afterwards forgave him, and desired him to marry. He expressed his readiness to marry anybody she pleased, and at last she sent him a list, alphabetically arranged, of suitable matches. He said he might as well take the first on the list, which happened to be letter C, a Carteret, daughter of Lord Granville's, and her he accordingly married. Lord Spencer told me that his father and mother had destroyed a good many papers of old Lady Spencer's, some of which he much regretted, particularly a series of gossiping letters of old Lord Jersey's, who was a great friend of hers, and wrote to her all that was passing in the world every day. He has kept all his own correspondence while in office, and, since he went out, that with Brougham on various subjects, which he says is very voluminous, and will be very curious. It is, however, all in confusion at present.

We talked a little about Corn Laws and politics. He said that he had always been persuaded, and was still, that the present Corn Laws could not be maintained, but that he thought the prevailing distress would pass away. He had been surprised that no stronger Anti-Corn Law spirit had been got up during the elections, but people had been indifferent about it, and still were so. They did not think the distress was owing to these laws, or that their repeal would bring relief; and though he thinks Peel must be conscious that in the end they must go, the fact of there being no pressure on him for change, and very considerable pressure for standing still, will prevent his doing anything considerable.

A PARTY AT BOWOOD.

Bowood:[23] December 20th.—Came to town on Saturday, and here to-day. Saw Graham yesterday and told him what a scrape the Chancellor has got into about the Buckinghamshire magistrates, and discussed the whole matter with him, not mincing my opinion. He owned it was bad, but had no better excuse to suggest than that Lord Cottenham had established a bad principle, and they must therefore carry it out. He said he should tell Peel. I found they are not going to give the Northamptonshire Lieutenancy to Lord Spencer, but to Lord Exeter, who lives in a corner of the county, takes no part in its affairs, and is already Lieutenant of Rutlandshire. The party would without doubt have been offended if Lord Spencer had had it, but the question, was whether so good an opportunity might not and ought not to be taken to relax the rigorous practice of conferring these appointments always on political adherents. I found a very different party here from what I left at Woburn. There nothing but idle, ignorant, ordinary people, among whom there was not an attempt at anything like society or talk; here though not many, almost all distinguished more or less—Moore, Rogers, Macaulay, R. Westmacott, Butler and Mrs. Butler, Dr. Fowler and his wife, Lady H. Baring, Miss Fox. Mrs. Butler read the three last acts of 'Much Ado about Nothing,' having read the first two the night before. Her reading is admirable, voice beautiful, great variety, and equally happy in the humorous and the pathetic parts.

December 23rd.—Three days passed very agreeably. Charles Austin came yesterday, Dundas and John Russell to-day. Last night Mrs. Butler read the first three acts of the 'Hunchback,' which she was to have finished to-night, but she ran restive, pretended that some of the party did not like it, and no persuasion could induce her to go on. Another night, Moore sang some of his own Melodies, and Macaulay has been always talking. Never certainly was anything heard like him. It is inexhaustible, always amusing and instructive, about everybody and everything. I had at one time a notion of trying to remember and record some of the conversation that has been going on, and some of the anecdotes that have been told, but I find it is in vain to attempt it. The drollest thing is to see the effect upon Rogers, who is nearly extinguished, and can neither make himself heard, nor find an interval to get in a word. He is exceedingly provoked, though he can't help admiring, and he will revive to-morrow when Macaulay goes. It certainly must be rather oppressive after a certain time, and would be intolerable, if it was not altogether free from conceit, vanity, and arrogance, unassuming, and the real genuine gushing out of overflowing stores of knowledge treasured up in his mind. We walked together for a long time the day before yesterday, when he talked of the History he is writing. I asked him if he was still collecting materials, or had begun to write. He said he was writing while collecting, going on upon the fund of his already acquired knowledge, and he added, that it was very mortifying to find how much there was of which he was wholly ignorant. I said if he felt that, with his superhuman memory and wonderful scope of knowledge, what must ordinary men feel? He said that it was a mistake to impute to him either such a memory or so much knowledge; that Whewell and Brougham had more universal knowledge than he had, but that what he did possess was the ready, perhaps too ready, use of all he knew. I said what surprised me most was, his having had time to read certain books over and over again; e.g. he said he had read Don Quixote in Spanish, five or six times; and I am afraid to say how often he told me he had read 'Clarissa.' He said that he read no modern books, none of the novels or travels that come out day after day. He had read 'Tom Jones' repeatedly, but 'Cecil a Peer,' not at all; and as to 'Clarissa,' he had read it so often that, if the work were lost, he could give a very tolerable idea of it, could narrate the story completely, and many of the most remarkable passages and expressions. However, it would be vain, nor is it worth while, to attempt to recollect and record all his various talk. It is not true, as some say, that there is nothing original in it, but certainly by far the greater part is the mere outpouring of memory. Subjects are tapped, and the current flows without stopping. Wonderful as it is, it is certainly oppressive after a time, and his departure is rather a relief than otherwise. Dundas, who is very agreeable, and very well informed, said to-day that he was a bore; but that he is not, because what comes from him is always good, and it comes naturally, and without any assumption of superiority. Perhaps the most extraordinary thing is the quantity of trifling matter which he recollects. He gave us verses of James Parke's,[24] and others of Laurence Peel's,[25] ludicrous lines, written on different occasions. His memory treasures up all sorts of trash and nonsense, as well as the most serious and most important matter; but there is never any confusion.

SOCIETY AT BOWOOD.

December 26th.—Macaulay went away the day before Christmas Day, and it was wonderful how quiet the house seemed after he was gone, and it was not less agreeable. Rogers was all alive again, Austin and Dundas talked much more than they would have done, and Lord Lansdowne too, and on the whole we were as well without him. It does not do for more than two or three days; but I never passed a week with so much good talk, almost all literary and miscellaneous, very little political, no scandal and gossip. And this is the sort of society which I might have kept instead of that which I have. I have had all the facilities I could desire for adopting either description of society, for spending my time among the cultivated and the wise, or among the dissipated, the foolish, and the ignorant; and with shame and sorrow I must admit that by far the largest proportion of my time has been wasted on and with the latter.[26]

January 2nd, 1842.—On Monday last I left Bowood, Rogers and I together, and went to Badminton, where I found a party and habits as diametrically opposite as possible from that which we left behind. The stable and the kennel formed the principal topic of interest. On Saturday came to town.

January 8th.—Lord Ashburton's appointment to America[27] to settle all our disputes was much praised at first, but now the public mind is changed, and there is a general disposition to find fault with it. People reflect on his vacillation and irresolution, and think age and absence from affairs are not likely to have cured the defects of his character; however, it is creditable to him to make the sacrifice.

Accounts from China of fresh successes, but the capture of Amoy is like an operation in a pantomime rather than in real war. Nobody is killed or wounded, nothing found in the place, which was directly after evacuated. Sir George Grey,[28] who called on me yesterday (and though a ridiculous-looking, not at all a stupid man), said that we had now gone so far, and made such an exposure of the weakness of the Chinese Government, that we had no alternative, and must proceed to the conquest of China, and the foundation or establishment of another Indian Empire; for if we did not, some other Power (probably the French) infallibly would. I hope this prediction will not prove true, but it is worth recording. The only chance, he said, was the timely submission of the Emperor, and the sagacity of the Chinese Government being sufficient to enlighten them as to the magnitude and imminence of their danger.

January 11th.—I dined with Lady Holland on Sunday, and had a talk with Dedel, who said that Palmerston had contrived to alienate all nations from us by his insolence and violence, so that we had not now a friend in the world, while from the vast complication of our interests and affairs we were exposed to perpetual danger—of which much is true, but it is not true that we are without friends absolutely. We are very well with Spain and with Austria. Yesterday I saw Bidwell,[29] who agreed with Dedel about Palmerston, for all the Foreign Office abhor him. He said that Palmerston's tone on every occasion, and to every Power, not only had disgusted them all, but made it very difficult for his successor to adopt another tone without some appearance of weakness. However, Aberdeen is doing well, avoiding Palmerston's impertinence of manner, and preserving his energy as to matter. He has taken a very fair and impartial part in the squabble between Salvandy and Espartero, and is urging the latter not to insist upon what is untenable, and contrary to precedent. He is also trying to get Austria to send a Minister to Madrid, and would probably have succeeded but for this French quarrel.

QUARRELS IN SPAIN.

January 13th.—While waiting for the greater interest to be excited by the meeting of our Parliament on the 3rd of next month, all Europe is thrown into a state of agitation, and the gravest statesmen are occupied with the quarrel between Espartero and Salvandy, or rather Louis Philippe, for there seems no doubt that it originates with him, animated by spite and hatred of the Spanish Regent. This mighty and important question is neither more nor less than whether the French Minister shall deliver his credentials to the Regent at once, or whether he shall deliver them to the Infant Queen, by her to be placed in the hands of the Regent. On this momentous difference the political and diplomatic world is divided, a vast deal of irritation is produced, and, in consequence of it, very important negotiations are suspended and delayed. Aberdeen is vainly attempting to negotiate a compromise, and has opposed the pretensions of Espartero (after disapproving of the original demands of France) in a manner to draw down a very bitter and able attack upon him, evidently from the pen of Palmerston, in the 'Morning Chronicle' yesterday. To this the 'Times' has responded this morning very well, and the contest will be carried on between these not very unequal antagonists. Besides the question of Salvandy, it embraces several minor and collateral points. It is impossible for an attack to be more virulent, bitter, and contemptuous than that of Palmerston upon Aberdeen, and it becomes rather amusing when we recollect Aberdeen's approbation and support of Palmerston's anti-Gallican policy in the Syrian campaign. All Aberdeen's predilections are anti-French, and he never forgets his old connexion with the Allies, but this does not save him from the lash of Palmerston, and from the most sarcastic gibes upon his supposed subserviency to France. It certainly surprises me that Aberdeen should have adopted the French rather than the Spanish view of the question, for I cannot but think Espartero in the right, and the argument in his favour appears to me unanswerable. I agree in this with Palmerston: the appointment of a Regent presupposes the incapacity of the Sovereign to discharge the functions of Royalty, and the Regent is consequently invested with all the authority of the Crown. All its rights, privileges, and duties appertain to the Regent, who can and must do everything which the Sovereign would do if of full age. The age of the Sovereign can make no difference; the incapacity must be absolute, and the rule, whatever it be, equally applicable to a baby in arms and to a person within a month of her majority. It is impossible to determine that the infant Sovereign becomes at some indefinite period capable of discharging one or more specific acts, but no others; for who is to decide what acts the infant can do, and what not, and at what particular age the incapacity shall partially cease? Supposing the Queen of England now to die, and Prince Albert become Regent, no Foreign Minister could commit the absurdity of insisting upon delivering his credentials into the hands of the Prince of Wales, who is barely two months old; yet the same principle must be applied in both, and in all cases of minority. It is true that matters of etiquette admit of great variety, and different precedents more or less analogous may be brought to bear on the question; but in this, the last precedent ought to be conclusive, and that is the practice during the Regency of Christina, when no difficulty was ever made, and the Ministers presented their credentials at once to her. It is clear that this could not be in virtue of her own Royal dignity, for that can have nothing to do with it. Espartero, or whoever may happen to be Regent, be his rank whatever it may, is entitled to the same privileges, and to be treated exactly in the same manner as the Queen Dowager of Spain. Whatever she did, and whatever was done to her, was done in and to her character of the representative of the Crown, and had no reference to her own status. But whatever may be the result, there is no danger of our quarrelling with Spain on the question, for the Spanish Government know that we are trying to assist them in a much more important affair, their recognition by the three Great Powers, which we should probably have brought about already, but for this untoward dispute. It is not very clear that Palmerston (though partly well-informed) is aware of this; but his hatred of Guizot is so great, aggravated by his refusal to sign the Slave Treaty with him, and signing it immediately after with Aberdeen,[30] that he could not resist any opportunity of flinging out his venom against France. However, the war that is waged by him, and against him, is very entertaining; he is an adversary well worth battling with, a magnus Apollo of newspaper writers.

A BLUNDER AT BERLIN.

A ridiculous thing happened the other day. B—, who corresponds with the editor of the 'State Gazette' at Berlin, sent him a very bitter philippic against Palmerston, and a severe critical examination of his modus operandi in the Foreign Office. The article hinted at a project of his, under certain contingencies, to stay in office with a Tory Government and a Whig Household, and talked of doing this with the aid of 'a woman not less able and ambitious than himself,' evidently alluding to Lady Palmerston. When the article was translated into German and appeared, it produced a great sensation, but Burghersh, who does not understand German, and to whom it was translated, very stupidly fancied that the woman meant the Queen, and he hurried off to make his complaints of the audacity and insolence of the article. A great hubbub ensued, and, to satisfy the English Minister, the order for the dismissal of the editor was signed; but in the meantime the matter was brought before the King, who had the good sense to see at once what the real meaning was, put a stop to the proceedings, and exonerated the editor. Burghersh had, however, written home on the subject, and told the story to the Foreign Office. The next day (at Berlin) a softener appeared in the 'State Gazette,' with some civilities to Palmerston, and the article has fortunately never found its way into our newspapers.

January 19th.—Went on Friday to Woburn. Charles Austin, Charles Buller, Le Marchant, Standish, and myself in the train. The house had been very nearly burnt down the night before, and was saved by a miracle. It happened in a maid-servant's room. A gown was ignited (as they supposed); the chair on which it hung was burnt, but the fire did not reach bed or window-curtains, only attacked the floor. The smoke was so dense they could not penetrate into the room, but the servants threw buckets of water in, which went to the right place, and extinguished the fire. Curiously enough, just before we came away on Monday morning, there was another alarm from a chimney being on fire. This was in the librarian's room, where, by accident, I had gone with some of the men to show them the manuscripts, and while we were there we discovered it, otherwise there is no saying what damage might not have been done, for the chimney communicated with others. However, in half an hour all danger was over. Lord John was there in great force. He is arranging the Bedford papers for publication, but he has persuaded the Duke not to let the Duchess of Marlborough's correspondence be published, because it is so personal and abusive, which is a very superfluous piece of squeamishness, for it is just what people enjoy, and as all the objects of her venom, and their immediate descendants, have long been dead, it can't signify. It was very agreeable, for Austin, Buller, Clarendon, and Lord John made excellent society.

THE KING OF PRUSSIA ARRIVED.

Came to town on Monday, and yesterday saw the Duke of Wellington. He came into my brother's room while I was there, and took me into his own. He was in excellent health, spirits, and humour; talked about the Spanish quarrel, but did not say much to the purpose, only that both parties had gone too far, and that with patience and good sense it might finally be settled. I told him about Lyndhurst and Carrington, and he spoke like himself. He blamed the Chancellor without reserve, repeated what he had said before in his speeches, said nothing should induce him to contradict himself and hold language different from what he had held before, therefore he should hold his tongue, and the Chancellor must get out of his scrape as he could. He told me he never himself made a clergyman a magistrate if he could help it.

January 24th.—The King of Prussia landed on Saturday at Greenwich,[31] and was met by the Duke of Wellington in Prussian field-marshal uniform, with the Black Eagle. The King instantly seized both his hands and said, 'My dear Duke, I am rejoiced to see you. This is indeed a great day.'

Met Graham yesterday and walked with him; talked about different things. He said he thought they were going on well, but trade was very bad and distress very great, the people very enduring and well-behaved. He talked of Ireland, and said the Government were resolved to act upon liberal and impartial principles; that the idea of restoring the old Orange or any other domination was impossible, and he only regretted that they had not got some offices of profit that they might now bestow upon Catholics. They are reproached for diminishing the number of stipendiary magistrates, but they are strong enough on that point. As to the Lieutenancy of Northamptonshire, he said he thought Exeter was the best man on the whole; that Cardigan was very angry that he had not got it. I told him I thought Exeter was not a good man, took no part in the business of the county, and merely lived at a corner of it. 'To whom would you have given it?' I said, 'To Lord Spencer; by far the fittest man omnium consensû.' He said it was impossible; the party would not have stood it; the Whigs had never done any such thing when they were in office. A low view of the matter; but if they are not strong enough to act more wisely and liberally than their opponents, if they cannot, under any circumstances, appoint men with reference to their fitness, instead of to their political connexion, and if the former consideration must invariably prevail over the latter, why, all one can say is, that they are to be pitied, and we must hope the time may come when better maxims and practices can be established.

Met Sutton Sharpe the other night, who told me some amusing stories of Lord Ellenborough and his treatment of counsel. A man was opening his speech, and said, 'My Lord, my unfortunate client,' and then repeated the words again. 'Go on, sir,' said Lord Ellenborough, 'the Court is with you so far.' Another man said, 'And now, if your Lordship pleases, I will proceed so and so.' 'Sir, we sit here not to court, but to endure arguments.'

February 1st.—For the last week the King of Prussia and his activity have occupied the world. He has made a very favourable impression here. In person he is common-looking, not remarkable in any way; his manners are particularly frank, cordial, and good-humoured; he is very curious, and takes a lively interest in all he sees, and has, by all accounts, been struck with great admiration at the conduct and bearing of the people, as well as the grandeur and magnificence he has found both at Court and elsewhere. Whether the order, and more especially the loyalty, he has witnessed, will induce him to entertain with more complacency the idea of a free constitution for his own kingdom, remains to be seen, not that what he finds here ought necessarily to imply that results equally happy would follow the concession of liberal constitutions in Prussia. He has been in London almost every day from Windsor, one day breakfasting with Peel, who collected the men of letters and science and the most distinguished artists to meet him. On Sunday he went to church at St. Paul's, and then lunched with the Lord Mayor. Another day he went to Westminster Abbey, when he evinced great curiosity to learn all the local details of the Queen's coronation. Yesterday he went in the morning and paid a visit to Mrs. Fry, with whom he went to Coldbath Fields prison; in the evening to Drury Lane. He wanted to see one of Shakespeare's plays, and had no other opportunity, so he got the play acted at six instead of seven, and made the Duke of Sutherland, with whom he was to dine, have his dinner at nine. He asked for 'Macbeth,' but they told him it would take a month to get it up. They gave him the choice of the 'Merchant of Venice' or the 'Two Gentlemen of Verona,' and he took the latter. Nothing could exceed the magnificence of the fête the Duke of Sutherland gave him, dinner and party after it.

THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM RESIGNS.

But an interest greater than any which the King of Prussia could make was produced by the intelligence of the Duke of Buckingham's resignation. I had been dining at Wharncliffe's Sheriffs' dinner, where all the Ministers were, except the Duke of Wellington and Aberdeen (who both dined at Stafford House), Goulburn, who was ill in bed, and the Duke of Buckingham. I was rather surprised at his absence, for which no excuse was made, but nobody said anything about it. They had been concocting the speech all the morning, and as soon as we had done with the sheriffs, they made me and my colleague withdraw, and resolved themselves into a Cabinet. Still I suspected nothing; but the moment I got to Stafford House I heard the news, and immediately understood the cause of his absence from the dinner, and saw that it must be true; and directly after it was confirmed. The time, however, is so near for the Ministerial announcement of their intentions, that it is not worth while to torment one's self with speculation. A few hours will show what it is the Duke can't swallow. All that is now known is that he has not resigned angrily, and that he promises his general support and continued goodwill. For a long time speculation has been rife as to the intentions of Peel, and the Government secret has been so well kept that not a single person seems to have been apprised of them; indeed, the matter was not, in all probability, definitively settled before yesterday. The Opposition papers have been labouring to persuade the world that Peel, though not unwilling, had proved himself unable to do anything, and that what they called the Buckingham or landed interest had prevailed. I never thought this, and a few words that casually fell from Wharncliffe one day, convinced me it was not true. So thought most of the sensible men on both sides, when they were staggered by the intelligence that Lord March was to move the address, which, after the Duke of Richmond's hot speech last year, was taken as a proof that nothing serious in the Anti-Corn-Law line could be contemplated. This fact, now followed by the Duke of Buckingham's resignation, sadly perplexes men's minds, and everybody asks what it can be at which the Duke of Buckingham strains, but which the Duke of Richmond swallows. The Duke of Bedford, however, thinks that the Duke of Richmond does not know what is meant, for it is certain Lord Abercorn, who moves the Address in the House of Lords, does not. He asked Aberdeen to give him some hints from which he might frame his speech, and he told him he was unable to do so.

The Dublin election has gone off with remarkable quiet. Dan was not very violent, and some say he did not wish Morpeth to succeed where he had failed. The worst thing that has happened lately is the exhibition of bad feeling towards us in the French Chamber. Guizot has spoken admirably well, and magnificently defended himself, but he was obliged to allude coldly to us, and to disavow any intimacy between the two countries. The close alliance with France is therefore at an end, and we must count upon her readiness to seize any occasion that may present itself of injuring our interests and crippling our power. This we owe to Palmerston's famous diplomacy, who, thinking it a fine thing to gain a diplomatic advantage over a rival and hostile Government, overlooked the consequence of exasperating a powerful, susceptible, jealous, but not then unfriendly nation. He did what neither man, woman, or nation can forgive: he deeply wounded their vanity and their pride.

THE KING OF PRUSSIA IN ENGLAND.

February 5th.—Parliament met on Thursday: a great crowd, and the Queen well enough received. The King of Prussia went down in state, and sat in the House of Lords on a chair near the woolsack. On Friday he went away, having made a short but uncommonly active visit, mightily pleased with his reception by Queen and all classes of people, from highest to lowest; splendid entertainments from the rich, and hearty acclamations from the poor. All the world has been struck with his intelligence, activity, affability, and appetite, for since Louis XIV. I have never heard of a monarch who eats so copiously and frequently. The oddest thing he did was to go and lunch with Mrs. Fry, and the way of going not less odd, but that was the vagary of his rude, unmannered attendant, Lord Hardwicke. After visiting some prison, Mrs. Fry asked him to lunch at her house some four or five miles off, through the City, and he agreed. The coachman represented that the horses could not accomplish this jaunt, when it was proposed to send for post-horses; but Hardwicke would not have four, and insisted on a pair being attached as outriggers to the Queen's coach-horses, to the unspeakable disgust of the coachman, who, if the spirit of Vatel had been in him, would have cast himself from his box rather than submit to such an indignity. They say that nothing has struck the King so much as the behaviour of the people, their loyalty, orderly, peaceable demeanour, and he is naturally gratified at the heartiness and cordiality of his own reception. Some think that what he has witnessed will incline him to grant a free constitution to his own subjects; but as he can't create the foundations on which our constitutional system rests, and the various and complicated safeguards which are intertwined with it, he will hardly be induced to jump to any such conclusion. He made magnificent presents at parting to all the officers of the Royal Household: snuff-boxes of 500 guineas apiece to the Lord Chamberlain, Master of Horse, and Lord Steward; boxes and watches to others, and he left 1,500l. with Charles Murray to be distributed among the three classes of servants at the Palace.

The Queen's speech was much like all others, but derived an interest from the notice about Corn.[32] The secret of the measure has been so well kept, that up to this time nobody knows what they are going to propose. The Opposition, people affect to consider it a great triumph for them, and that the Government are disgraced by the adoption of measures so similar to those by which their predecessors fell; but they treat the question as if nothing else had ever been laid to the charge of the late Government, and pass over (as they are quite right, in a party sense, to do) the fact that they were at their last gasp when they flung down their Budget, and that there were plenty of other causes for turning them out. It must be owned, however, that what is now going to happen is another exemplification of what I have long seen to be an established fact in politics—viz. that the Tories only can carry Liberal measures. The Whigs work, prepare, but cannot accomplish them; the Tories directly or indirectly thwart, discourage, and oppose them till public opinion compels them to submit, and then they are obliged to take them up, and to do that which they can do, but the Whigs cannot do. Francis Baring, who is come over from Paris to see Lord Ashburton before he goes, tells me that if Palmerston had continued for a year or two more at the Foreign Office, nothing, he is persuaded, could have prevented a war between us and France, for that he intrigued against France in every part of the world, and with a tenacity of purpose that was like insanity; he was constantly engaged in thwarting, counteracting, and insulting her, so that the exasperation against him and against this country was so great and universal that a collision would have been inevitable.

SIR R. PEEL'S CORN BILL.

February 11th.—On Wednesday night Peel produced his modification of the Corn Law in an elaborate speech (which bored everybody very much) of nearly three hours long.[33] The expectation, raised by the Duke of Buckingham's resignation, had been already brought down by a few words which Peel said on Tuesday, when he was taunted with adopting all the late Government's measures. His plan was received with coldness and indifference by his own people, and derision by the Opposition, and they all cried out that it was altogether useless, and would in reality effect no change at all. There are, however, a great many very different opinions on the subject, the result of the whole being that the measure is preferable to the present scheme; that it will be quite harmless to the producer, and may be of some service (but not much) to the consumer; that the settlement of the question is as remote as ever, this being no approximation to one. That inasmuch as it satisfies the landed interest it will keep Peel in office, but that eventually repeal either total or with a fixed duty must come, but in how many years must depend on the chapter of accidents, the course of events, and the temper of the people. Wharncliffe owned to me that it was a mountain producing a mouse, and that he thought it must end in a fixed duty, but that it would have been absolutely impossible for Peel to do anything more now, and that time must be given to bring round the minds of the landed interest to acquiesce in further measures. Macgregor, who is a man of violent opinions, told me he considered this plan worse than the present one. Charles Villiers said it was worthless and not so good as Canning's in 1827. Brougham said it was worth something as an instalment, an improvement on the old Corn Law, and might and must be taken as an instalment. Peel's did not seem to me a good speech; it was too long, and wearied his hearers; too highly coloured, and the speech of an advocate rather than of a statesman. But if he could speak his mind, he would no doubt admit that he was arguing against his own opinion and convictions.

Last night I met Melbourne at dinner, whom I had never seen since our conversations at Stafford House and at his own home. I asked him what he knew of the state of matters between the Queen and her Ministers. He said he believed they were going on very well, that he knew nothing to the contrary. They seemed to pay great court to the Prince, whom the Queen delights to honour and to elevate, and that he would probably acquire greater influence every day. Of all the Ministers she likes Aberdeen the best. She likes the Duchess of Buccleuch extremely, and Charles Wellesley is a great favourite. By his account she prefers her present great officers to their predecessors. Melbourne then talked to me about Palmerston, of the aversion he had inspired not only in France, but in all Germany, and said that his notion had been that everything was to be done by violence; that by never giving way or making any concession, and an obstinate insistence, every point was sure to be gained. This was à propos of the French refusal to ratify the Slave Treaty, and Guizot having delayed to sign it, because he would have nothing to do with Palmerston.

Last night, in the House of Commons, John Russell exposed himself miserably and unaccountably in an attack he made on Bushe and Lord Corehouse on their retirement from the Bench. He got a severe retort from Peel, and cut a disreputable figure.

THE RETREAT FROM CABUL.

February 12th.—The Opposition were silly enough to renew the question of the Scotch judge last night. It was Fox Maule's doing, I fancy, for John Russell was not there.[34] There is but one opinion among his own friends of the folly of his conduct. Ben Stanley told me so, and said he did it ex mero motu, and he could not imagine what induced him. Nothing weakens the authority of a leader so much as any exhibition of want of tact and judgement. Castlereagh would never have made such a blunder as this, but he was reckoned the best leader any party ever had. I have a great liking for Lord John, but have for some time discovered that with high qualities and great abilities he is not a great man or anything like it. But where are we to look for great men? The generation of them has passed away.

The Corn Law question seems already beginning to settle down into an admission that this is only the advance of a stage, and that we are and must be progressing to final repeal. Such is Lowther's opinion: a Tory, an interested party, but a shrewd and cool observer.

February 16th.—John Russell made a very good speech on Monday night, and so did Gladstone. The Government declare that their plan is well received in the country, and the Opposition assert that it has excited great indignation. The landed interest are certainly satisfied.

I read yesterday a letter from Mrs. Sale, at Cabul,[35] to her husband, the General, with an account of the events there, and the heroic conduct of Captain Sturt: a most remarkable letter, exhibiting an interesting mixture of masculine courage and understanding of military details, with touches of feminine nature. The agony of apprehension, apparent in the despatches, and the pressing entreaties to Sale to march back to their relief, show the magnitude of the danger they were in. The feelings of the General must have been bitter when he could not obey the summons, and was obliged to refuse to make any attempt to relieve his comrades and his wife.

February 19th.—The Corn Law debate closed very successfully for the Government; a greater majority than anybody expected, and an excellent speech from Peel, putting the whole question in the best possible form, taking the right tone, and giving the right reasons for doing what he has done, and as he has done it. Palmerston made a good slashing speech, and Roebuck a very clever one. The question is now considered by everybody to be settled for a few years; but how many, and when another change will take place, depends on a thousand contingencies, idle to argue upon. Everybody admits that it is in a state of transition, and though the landed interest will fondly hope that the next steps never will be taken, the prudent among them (a great minority, I fear) will open their eyes to the reality of their position, and act accordingly.

I went on Wednesday with Lord and Lady John, Charles Howard and Macaulay, to the Battersea Schools, Robert Eden's and Dr. Kay's. We put forward Macaulay to examine the boys in history and geography, and Lord John asked them a few questions, and I still fewer. They answered in a way that would have put to shame most of the fine people's children. These schools are admirable, and the wonderful thing is, that when people see what can be done by good management at small expense, and by setting about the work of education in earnest, they do not turn their thoughts to the adoption of a similar scheme for the upper classes, who go through a certain process miscalled education, which leaves boys at the end of it nearly as ignorant as at the beginning, with the exception of the rudiments of Greek and Latin. At Eden's school they learn reading, writing, arithmetic, drawing, history, geography, and certain matters connected with statistics. At Dr. Kay's the same things, with the higher branches of mechanics, and especially music, in which they are great proficients. There is one striking contrast between the boys at Eden's school, and the aristocratic schoolboys: while the latter consider learning as an irksome employment, going to school an event full of misery and woe, and never think of anything but how to shirk their lessons, and find time for play and idleness, the poor boys rejoice in their school, love the instruction they receive, and no punishment is so great to them as exclusion from the schoolroom. Much of this may be accounted for by the difference of their circumstances and condition of life, but the necessary result is a far greater aptitude to learn on the part of the poor than the rich.

SIR R. PEEL'S BUDGET.

March 5th.—Nothing written for many days, principally because I had nothing particular to say. If I wrote a Journal, and chose to insert all the trash of diurnal occurrences, the squabbles of the Jockey Club, and things which had better be forgotten, because they ought not to happen, I might fill books full in no time, but I can't and won't do this. There have been no political events. The Government goes on quietly and safely enough, with no storm in the horizon at all threatening their political existence. The most alarming circumstance in our position is the state of affairs in India, where we are expecting every hour to hear of some catastrophe; but as the Government are not responsible for this, it will do them no damage, however disastrous it may be to the country.

March 13th.—On Friday night in the midst of the most intense and general interest and curiosity, heightened by the closeness and fidelity with which the Government measures had been kept secret, Peel brought forward his financial plans in a speech of three hours and forty minutes, acknowledged by everybody to have been a masterpiece of financial statement. The success was complete; he took the House by storm; and his opponents, though of course differing and objecting on particular points, did him ample justice. A few people expected an income tax, but the majority did not. Hitherto the Opposition have been talking very big about opposing all taxes, but they have quite altered their tone. It is really remarkable to see the attitude Peel has taken in this Parliament, his complete mastery over both his friends and his foes. His own party, nolentes aut volentes, have surrendered at discretion, and he has got them as well disciplined and as obedient as the crew of a man-of-war. This just measure, so lofty in conception, right in direction, and able in execution, places him at once on a pinnacle of power, and establishes his Government on such a foundation as accident alone can shake. Political predictions are always rash, but certainly there is every probability of Peel's being Minister for as many years as his health and vigour may endure. Only a few weeks ago I heard from my Whig friends of nothing but his weakness and embarrassments, and of all the difficulties his own supporters would cause him, what a poor figure he cut, &c.; but now they have not a word to say, and one of them who had been loudest in that strain brought to the Travellers', where I was dining, an account of Peel's speech, and said, 'One felt, all the time he was speaking, "Thank God, Peel is Minister!"' There can be no doubt that he is now a very great man, and it depends on himself to establish a lasting reputation. Wharncliffe told me that the principle of their measure, the imposition of an income-tax, was settled six weeks after they came into office, which makes the wonder greater that nothing of it got out.

March 14th.—The manner in which Peel's measure was received was creditable to the Opposition; but they are beginning to recover from their quiescent state, to ask one another what they think of it, to suggest objections, and to speculate on its unpopularity. There is, however, a general disposition to accept the measure, and to acknowledge that Peel is entitled to a fair trial of what must be considered a great political and financial experiment. Labouchere owned this to me last night, though he thinks that he might have taken another and a better course; he might have raised a revenue, according to their plan, out of sugar, timber, and corn, not have made so great a sacrifice for Canadian timber, and have found means to get all the rest that they wanted by some tax less odious than his income-tax. Great differences of opinion of course there will be, and it remains to be seen how the country will take it. The press has been hitherto almost universally acquiescent. All men now admit Peel's power, and his superior fitness as a Minister. He has taken a very high line, and acted his part with great dignity as well as dexterity; he is also singularly favoured by fortune, for the misfortunes which are now befalling us, the disastrous events in India, are useful to his political power. In times, too, of difficulty, men feel the mighty advantage of having a strong Government with a real efficient head to direct its energies, and predominate in its councils; and the perpetual contrast which presents itself between the present and the late, both as to the leaders, composition of the Cabinets and condition of the parties by which each was supported, extends and strengthens the impression in favour of Peel. It will be necessary for him to make some changes. Gladstone has already displayed a capacity which makes his admission into the Cabinet indispensable, and he must find some means of getting rid of Knatchbull. The very look of the man, which is that of a twaddler approaching to the ridiculous, is enough to make his exclusion an object, and as he is entirely useless and has fallen into universal contempt in the House of Commons, the sooner some decent retreat is found for him, the better for himself as well as for the Government.

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON ON CABUL.

The great interest excited by the Budget has in some degree absorbed that which the melancholy Indian news would otherwise produce, and we are still so imperfectly informed of the history of these transactions that we know not what to think of them. The Duke of Wellington told me at Court on Friday that there must have been either the grossest treachery, or the most inconceivable imbecility, and very likely a mixture of both, as they often go together. Auckland, who writes, as is natural, in great despondency, says that the whole thing is unintelligible to him, for, as far as they know, the 5,000 British troops at Cabul were never assailed by above 10,000 or 12,000 Afghans, irregularly armed with matchlocks and spears, while our force was provided with artillery, and all the appurtenances of war. According to all our notions and all former experience, a British force could always put to flight or destroy native tribes ten times more numerous. The Duke said that the captivity of the women would produce an effect from one end of Asia to the other, such as Europeans would form no idea of. But what reflexions this event gives rise to as to the uninterrupted current of our past successes, which has been so great that we had got to fancy no reverse of any sort, or in any quarter, could possibly befall us! It is a grievous thing to lose 5,000 men, cut off by a sudden insurrection and perishing, because circumstances beyond the control of man prevented their obtaining succour; but when we hear that such a disaster as this has not befallen us for above fifty years, and we think of all the tremendous defeats, wholesale destructions of men, and miseries inflicted on other lands and other nations, we may well, instead of repining, feel grateful for the impunity we have enjoyed from the evils and afflictions which have been so abundantly poured upon almost every other nation in the world.

DEATH OF LORD HERTFORD.

March 19th.—This day Lord Hertford[36] is buried at Ragley, a man whose death excited much greater interest than anything he ever did in his life, because the world was curious to learn the amount of his wealth, and how he had disposed of it. A pompous funeral left Dorchester House three days ago, followed by innumerable carriages of private individuals,[37] pretending to show a respect which not one of them felt for the deceased; on the contrary, no man ever lived more despised or died less regretted. His life and his death were equally disgusting and revolting to every good and moral feeling. As Lord Yarmouth he was known as a sharp, cunning, luxurious, avaricious man of the world, with some talent, the favourite of George IV. (the worst of kings) when Lady Hertford, his mother, was that Prince's mistress. He was celebrated for his success at play, by which he supplied himself with the large sums of money required for his pleasures, and which his father had no inclination to give him, and the son had none to ask of him. He won largely, not by any cheating or unfairness, but by coolness, calculation, always backing the best players, and getting the odds on his side. He was a bon vivant, and when young and gay his parties were agreeable, and he contributed his share to their hilarity. But after he became Lord Hertford and the possessor of an enormous property he was puffed up with vulgar pride, very unlike the real scion of a noble race; he loved nothing but dull pomp and ceremony, and could only endure people who paid him court and homage. After a great deal of coarse and vulgar gallantry, generally purchased at a high rate, he formed a connexion with Lady Strachan, which thenceforward determined all the habits of his life. She was a very infamous and shameless woman, and his love after some years was changed to hatred; and she, after getting very large sums out of him, married a Sicilian. But her children, three daughters, he in a manner adopted; though eventually all his partiality centred upon one, Charlotte by name, who married Count Zichy-Ferraris, a Hungarian nobleman. She continued to live with Hertford on and off, here and abroad, until his habits became in his last years so ostentatiously crapulous that her residence in his house, in England at least, ceased to be compatible with common decency. She was, however, here till within a week or ten days of his death, and her departure appears curiously enough to have led to the circumstances which immediately occasioned it. There has been, as far as I know, no example of undisguised debauchery exhibited to the world like that of Lord Hertford, and his age and infirmities rendered it at once the more remarkable and the more shocking. Between sixty and seventy years old, broken with various infirmities, and almost unintelligible from a paralysis of the tongue, he has been in the habit of travelling about with a company of prostitutes, who formed his principal society, and by whom he was surrounded up to the moment of his death, generally picking them up from the dregs of that class, and changing them according to his fancy and caprice. Here he was to be seen driving about the town, and lifted by two footmen from his carriage into the brothel, and he never seems to have thought it necessary to throw the slightest veil over the habits he pursued. For some months or weeks past he lived at Dorchester House, and the Zichys with him; but every day at a certain hour his women, who were quartered elsewhere, arrived, passed the greater part of the day, and one or other of them all the night in his room. He found the presence of the Countess Zichy troublesome and embarrassing to his pleasures, and he made her comprehend that her absence would not be disagreeable to him, and accordingly she went away. He had then been ill in bed for many days, but as soon as she was gone, as if to celebrate his liberation by a jubilee, he got up and posted with his seraglio down to Richmond. No room was ready, no fire lit, nevertheless he chose to dine there amidst damp and cold, drank a quantity of champagne, came back chilled and exhausted, took to his bed, grew gradually worse, and in ten days he died. And what a life, terminating in what a death! without a serious thought or a kindly feeling, lavishing sums incalculable on the worthless objects of his pleasures or caprices, never doing a generous or a charitable action, caring and cared for by no human being, the very objects of his bounty only regarding him for what they could get out of him; faculties, far beyond mediocrity, wasted and degraded, immersed in pride without dignity, in avarice and sensuality; all his relations estranged from him, and surrounded to the last by a venal harem, who pandered to the disgusting exigencies lassatæ sed nondum satiatæ libidinis. He left vast sums to the Strachan family, a considerable legacy to Croker, to whom he had been formerly under obligations, largely provided for his servants, and, with the exception of a few bequests to his executors and one or two other people, and a very large property to an old mistress (formerly Lady Strachan's maid), he left everything to his son Lord Yarmouth, with whom he had always been on very moderate terms.

THE WHIGS ON PEEL'S MEASURES.

March 20th.—Peel's financial measures are, of course, discussed in every quarter, but the general feeling in the country about them is not yet known. The Opposition, who, at first, had not made up their minds what to do, have now resolved to oppose the whole scheme, and they took the field in force on Friday night, and flatter themselves, so John Russell told me, that they had the best of the debate. The 'Times' opposes the income-tax and supports the tariff. Various objections are raised in different quarters with more or less reason, the principal one with regard to the income-tax being the unfairness of taxing incomes derived from temporary to the same extent as those which are derived from permanent sources, and there is a great disposition to criticise his measure with regard to timber, and the sacrifice he has made for the sake of Canadian timber. As to sugar, it is pretty clear that he is preparing for a great measure, and if it succeeds, it will be a very fine stroke of policy. He will make a treaty with the Brazils, imposing conditions (which they will not keep) for the abolition of slavery, and then let in their sugar. This will give him all the advantage of the plan of the late Government, without compromising his own consistency or the character of the country.

March 23rd.—Dined on Sunday at Lady Holland's, with Melbourne and a number of Whigs. Much talk about Peel and his measures, and what would be the conclusion. Melbourne, to do him justice, is destitute of humbug, does not see things through the medium of his wishes or prejudices, but thinks impartially, and says what he thinks. He said Peel would carry all his points, and that there would be no serious opposition in the country, for if any public meetings were called, the Chartists would be sure to outvote any resolution against the income-tax. Then he thought the regular war which the Opposition had declared was very useful to him, as it was the very thing which would keep his own party together, silence their objections, and make them come down and vote steadily with him. The rest would not gainsay this, though they don't like such a view of the state of the case. They all said Peel lost his temper the other night, and so he seems to have done. He has certainly taken a very imposing attitude, but he ought carefully to avoid any appearance of domineering, and to keep his temper under constant restraint. They will do all they can to provoke him. On Monday night the Opposition were very troublesome and factious, but that, however inconvenient to public business, will do him no harm, and he was so well aware of it that he never lost his self-command.

Death has been busy here of late, sweeping away men of very different estimation, and leaving behind them very unequal regrets. A few days ago died Archdeacon Singleton, a man who will be more remembered as the correspondent of Sydney Smith in his inimitable letters on Church Reform than for any acts of his own; but he was nevertheless a very excellent and valuable man. He was the intimate friend and counsellor of the Duke of Northumberland; and if that dullest of all bores was enabled to get through the Irish Lieutenancy with credit, it was because Singleton's sense informed him, and directed every act of his official career.

On Sunday Lord Munster[38] shot himself. He had been in low spirits for some time, and was tainted with the hereditary malady. He was a man not without talent, but wrongheaded, and having had the folly to quarrel with his father, and estrange himself from Court during the greater part of his reign, he fell into comparative obscurity and real poverty, and there can be no doubt that the disappointment of the expectations he once formed, together with the domestic unhappiness of a dawdling, ill-conditioned, vexatious wife, preyed upon his mind, and led to this act. The horror of the deed excited a momentary interest, but he will be soon forgotten.

Last night died very suddenly Colonel Armstrong, a man who will leave many social regrets behind him. He was formerly A.D.C. to the Duke of York, and equally a favourite of his and of the Duchess. He had very little general knowledge, and had never received much education, but he was very quick and intelligent, with a strong turn for humour and drollery, and perfectly good-humoured, inoffensive, and well-bred. Nobody ever heard him say a spiteful or ill-natured thing, and he was always lively and agreeable without ever being obtrusive in society. He was an excellent specimen of a man of the world, who lived upon its passing events without mixing himself up in its malignities and its quarrels, and who was universally respected and esteemed. The regrets of the world are of a very light and transitory nature, but Armstrong leaves a void in the society which he frequented, and this is all the sensation which anybody without public importance can expect to produce.

DEATH OF COLONEL ARMSTRONG.

June 5th.—I have not written one line since March 23—a longer interval, I think, than has ever passed since I first began to journalise. The principal reason for this cessation has been that my mind has been disquieted and unsettled. The racing and racehorses, and all things appertaining thereto, the betting, buying, selling, the quarrels and squabbles, the personal differences and estrangements, the excitement and agitation produced by these things, have had the effect on my mind of withdrawing my attention from public affairs, from literature, from society, from all that is worth attending to and caring for, from everything that is a legitimate object of interest, and wasting my thoughts, faculties, and feelings on all that is most vile, most worthless, and most morally and mentally injurious. This is the confession that I am obliged to make, for this is the true cause why I have left unnoticed and unrecorded every event or circumstance that has occurred for many weeks past. It is also, in some degree, owing to the circumstance of my knowing very little of what is going on. While the late Ministry were in office, my intimacy with so many of them or their near connexions put me in the way of information; but I have no intimacy with any of these people, and consequently I know nothing but what everybody else knows. The history of the last two months may be very briefly told, and a short sketch will suffice for all that is essential of it.

Peel's government has been acquiring fresh power and solidity every day till now; there is hardly any opposition to it in Parliament or out. The whole country is prepared, if not content, to take his measures, and let him have his own way without let or hindrance. For the last few weeks bribery and fancy balls have excited much greater interest than income-tax and tariff. The distress in the country does not diminish, but its miseries are neither seen nor felt amidst the 'fumum et opes, strepitumque Romæ;' and as nobody thinks that the 'sanguine cloud' has 'quenched the orb of day,' that it arises from any other than temporary and accidental causes, the world waits patiently for some beneficial change.

Last week the Queen was shot at, very much in the same manner and on the same spot as two years ago. She was aware that the attempt had been meditated the day before, and that the perpetrator was at large, still she would go out, and without any additional precautions. This was very brave, but imprudent. It would have been better to stay at home, or go to Claremont, and let the police look for the man, or to have taken some precautionary measures. It is certainly very extraordinary, for there is no semblance of insanity in the assassin, and no apparent motive or reason for the crime. This young Queen, who is an object of interest, and has made no enemies, has twice had attempts made on her life within two years. George III., a very popular king, was exposed to similar attempts, but in his case the perpetrators were really insane; while George IV., a man neither beloved nor respected, and at different times very odious and unpopular, was never attacked by anyone.

The night before last, the play of 'The Hunchback' was acted at Bridgewater House by Mrs. Butler, Adelaide Kemble, Vandenhoff (instead of Sheridan Knowles, who was to have done it), my brother Henry, and some other amateurs. The dining-room made but a middling theatre, the actors and audience being too near each other. This materially injured the effect, still it went off well, and Mrs. Butler acted as well as Fanny Kemble did ten or twelve years ago, but, with all her power, genius, and voice, she is not a first-rate actress.

REVIEW OF THE SESSION.

Last night I went to Hullah's choral meeting, at Exeter Hall, where the Queen Dowager appeared. It was fine to see, and fine and curious to hear; but the finest thing was when the Duke of Wellington came in, almost at the end. The piece they were singing stopped at once; the whole audience rose, and a burst of acclamation and waving of handkerchiefs saluted the great old man, who is now the idol of the people. It was grand and affecting, and seemed to move everybody but himself.

September 1st.—During the whole of the past Session, besides having been occupied with other things than politics, I have had no communication with politicians, and have seen nothing of public affairs. My knowledge, therefore, is no greater than that of any casual observer, and all I could have done was to note and record the various floating opinions which have come across me in my intercourse with society.

Peel began the Session with his great financial measures, which were received, on their first appearance, with considerable applause by the Opposition, and with a sulky acquiescence on the part of the Tories. The former, however, soon began to change their note and to pick holes, but probably this rather was of service to him than otherwise, for the semblance of an Opposition—and it was no more—kept together the masses of the Government party, and the tone of superiority and even supremacy which he assumed from the beginning has imposed upon both friend and foe, and enabled him to get through a very laborious and troublesome session without any serious difficulty. John Russell not only showed no disposition to lead his party in regular attacks on the Government, but he very soon became impatient to go and seek rural recreation, and some time before the close of the session he abandoned them to their fate. Before his departure, however, a sort of guerilla warfare had begun, which afterwards became more desultory, but more brisk and incessant. Charles Buller, Tom Duncombe, Hawes, and Vernon Smith took different departments, and, Palmerston taking the post of leader, they all kept up an incessant fire upon the Treasury Bench. The Whigs were exceedingly provoked with Lord John for quitting his post, and equally delighted with Palmerston for retaining his with such constancy and for taking so active a part. Nothing, however, occurred very remarkable in the way of debate till the last night of the session, when Palmerston made a grand attack upon the Government, à la Lyndhurst, in a speech of great ability, as his opponents themselves allow. Peel, however, replied to him in a still abler speech, and, with this brilliant single combat, which took place in a very empty House, the session ended.

Parliament was no sooner up, than the riots broke out,[39] sufficiently alarming but for the railroads, which enabled the Government to pour troops into the disturbed districts, and extinguish the conflagration at once. The immediate danger is over, but those who are best informed look with great anxiety and apprehension to the future, and only consider what has recently happened as the beginning of a series of disorders. It is remarkable that whilst England and Scotland have been thus disturbed, Ireland has been in the profoundest tranquillity, and when everybody, themselves included, feared that Ireland would be hardly governable under Tory rule, they have not had the slightest difficulty in that quarter. O'Connell has been much quieter since Peel came into office than he was before, and is evidently doing all he can to keep the country quiet. The Queen, too, is to all appearance on just as good terms with the present Government as she was with the last. There is no such intimacy with anybody as there was with Melbourne, but she is very civil to all her Ministers, invites them constantly to her house, and, what is curious, hardly ever takes any notice of those members of the late Government and Household whom she appeared not to be able to live without; even Melbourne is very rarely a guest either at Windsor or Buckingham House.

WITHDRAWAL FROM AFGHANISTAN.

September 3rd.—One of the topics on which Palmerston attacked the Government with the greatest bitterness was the supposed abandonment of Auckland's policy with respect to Afghanistan, and the withdrawal of the troops from that country. He asserted that such was Lord Ellenborough's intention, but that he had been compelled to change or suspend it, by instructions from home, and then he thundered away on the disgrace of a retreat, the advantages of a permanent occupation, and asked, but without eliciting any reply, what Government really meant to do. Just after this speech and the close of the session, Lord Auckland arrived in England. He had an interview with Peel, with which both seemed satisfied. Auckland said that Peel received him with great civility and cordiality; and Graham told me that Peel had found Auckland by no means disposed to adopt and countenance all Palmerston's views and opinions; that he had been very guarded, and said nothing indicative of any difference of opinion between himself and his political friends, but that he had spoken like an honest man, looking to the true interests of the country under actual circumstances, and not to any mere party purpose. It was the impression of Peel, clearly, that Auckland does not contemplate the reoccupation of that country, unless it be merely for the purpose of recovering our honour and restoring our supremacy. A few days ago I met Sir Charles Metcalfe, the greatest of Indian authorities. He was decidedly opposed to the expedition originally, and he told me he never could understand how Auckland could have been induced to undertake it. But, he thinks that we have now no alternative, and must reoccupy Cabul, and re-establish our authority. When we have done so, he says, we ought to leave to the Afghans the choice of their ruler, and then make a treaty with him, whoever he may be, and such a one as it is his interest to keep, for he will not keep any other. The Opposition continually taunt the present Government with having approved of Auckland's policy, when it appeared likely to be successful, and now finding fault with it, when unexpected failure and disaster have occurred. Graham, however, told me that his party had all along disapproved of it, that the four greatest authorities on Indian affairs had been opposed to it; viz. the Duke of Wellington, Lord Wellesley, Sir Charles Metcalfe, and Mountstuart Elphinstone, and that he had got up the whole question with the intention of bringing it before the House of Commons, and had only been prevented by the Duke of Wellington, who would not suffer it to be done. The Duke, who, from the moment when any question has assumed a national character, sets aside every party object, said that we had now gone so far, and the country was so completely committed in this measure, that nothing must be done calculated to mar its execution, and that it would produce a very serious and prejudicial effect if a large minority of the House of Commons should pronounce a condemnation of it. Accordingly Graham was obliged to be silent, and the consequence of that silence is, to afford the Opposition a fair pretext for saying that their policy met with no opposition and no objections, while success appeared likely to crown it. When Graham was getting up this case, he saw Lord Wellesley two or three times, who on one occasion had dressed himself with great care, and delivered a very eloquent oration on the subject, which lasted upwards of two hours, and was very good indeed. This is what he delights in doing. He continually talks of taking his seat in the House of Lords, and of the speeches he will make there, but it is only talk. In his own room he will hold forth, and though he requires a great deal of preparation and getting up, all those who hear him say that he exhibits wonderful ability and remarkable powers of memory in these tête-à-tête displays, for he never makes his speeches to more than one auditor at a time.

THE TREATY OF WASHINGTON.

September 11th.—A day or two after I wrote the above, I dined with Auckland to meet General Ventura, the General of Runjeet Singh, where there was a great deal of Indian talk. Ventura thought that if Pollock had pushed on at once to Cabul after he had joined Sale, he would have occupied the place without resistance, and met with no obstacles in his march; but Willoughby Cotton, who was there, said they could not move for want of camels, and that it was quite impossible for any force to proceed without the means of transport, which were totally wanting. Auckland differs with Metcalfe, and thinks we ought to reoccupy Cabul with the intention of establishing our authority permanently in these countries. The Whig papers are attacking Ellenborough with the greatest asperity, and doing all they can to divert public attention from the original expedition and its subsequent disasters, and to fix the general indignation upon him for the policy he is disposed to adopt. It is still, however, very little known to the world what has occurred, and what is meditated, but I cannot doubt from the tenor of the few observations I have heard from both Graham and FitzGerald, that Government have made up their minds to renounce all idea of permanent conquests and establishment in Afghanistan. The English public will be satisfied if we get back the prisoners, which is what they think most about, and though they will be dissatisfied and disappointed if some sort of vengeance is not executed upon Akbar Khan, they will on the whole be happy to be extricated from such an embarrassing and expensive scrape.

There is a very general feeling of satisfaction at the termination of the boundary dispute with the Americans,[40] and it will be impossible for Palmerston, who is ready to find fault with everything the Foreign Office does, to carry public opinion with him in attacking this settlement. He showed his disposition in a conversation he had lately with M. de Bacourt (just come over from America), to whom he said that we had made very important concessions. But Charles Buller, who was with me when M. de Bacourt told me this, said he for one would defend Lord Ashburton's Treaty, let Palmerston say what he would. He never would quarrel with any tolerable arrangement of such a question as that. I heard yesterday a curious thing relating to this matter. Lemon, of the State Paper Office, called on me, and told me that about three months ago they were employed by the Foreign Office in searching for documents relating to the original discussions on the Boundary question. There was a great deal of correspondence, much of which was copied for the use of Government. While thus occupied, he recollected that there was an old map of North America, which had been lying neglected and tossed about the office for the last twenty-five years, and he determined to examine this map. He did so, and discovered a faint red line drawn all across certain parts of it, together with several pencil lines drawn in parallels to the red line above and below it. It immediately occurred to him that this was the original map supposed to be lost (for it never could be found), which was used for marking and settling the Boundary question, and he gave notice to the Foreign Office of what he had discovered. The map was immediately sent for and examined by the Cabinet, who deemed it of such importance that they ordered it to be instantly locked up and that nobody should have access to it. First, however, they sent for the three most eminent and experienced men in this line of business, Arrowsmith and two others, and desired them to examine closely this map and report their opinions, separately and without concert, upon certain questions which were submitted to them. These related principally to the antiquity of the red and pencil lines, and whether the latter had been made before or after the former. They reported as they were desired to do. They all agreed as to the age of the line, and they proved that the pencil marks had been made subsequently to the red line. I forget the other particulars, but so much importance was attached to the discovery of this map, which was without doubt the original, that an exact account of its lines and marks was made out for Lord Ashburton, and a messenger despatched to Portsmouth with orders to lay his hands on the first Government steamer he could find, no matter what her destination or purpose, and to go off to America forthwith. As soon afterwards as possible the Boundary question was settled, and it is certainly reasonable to suppose that this discovery had an important effect upon the decision.

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THE MISSING MAP.