CHAPTER XXXI.

Accident to Sir Robert Peel—Triumphant Success of Lord Palmerston—Death of Sir Robert Peel—Sir James Graham's Position—Lord Palmerston's Policy—Lord Palmerston's Ovation—Death of Mr. Arbuthnot—Death of King Louis Philippe—The Papal Hierarchy in England—German Affairs—Papal Aggression—General Radowitz invited to Windsor—Papal Aggression—Conversation with Lord John Russell—And with Lord Palmerston—Mr. Green's Lecture—Visit to Brocket—Bear Ellice—Lord Melbourne's Papers.

London, July 1st, 1850.—The day before yesterday Sir Robert Peel had a fall from his horse and hurt himself seriously. Last night he was in imminent danger. His accident has excited the greatest interest, and his doors are beset with enquirers of all parties without distinction. He was in high spirits that day, for he was pleased with the division which saved the Government, and with his own speech, which for his purpose was very dexterous and successful.

I rode with Lord Grey yesterday in the Park, when we talked over the debate and present state of affairs. He said that it was remarkable that this discussion, which was intended to damage Palmerston, had left him the most popular man in the country; that of this there could be no doubt. Bright had said that his vote had given great offence at Manchester, and that Cobden's vote and speech would probably cost him the West Riding at the next election; that amongst all the middle classes Palmerston was immensely popular. He spoke of Palmerston's speech as having been not only one of consummate ability, but quite successful as a reply, and he insisted that their side had much the best of the argument. I denied this, but acknowledged the ability of Palmerston, and his success, though his speech was very answerable, if either Peel or Disraeli had chosen to reply to it, which neither of them would. It is beyond all contestation that this great battle, fought on two fields, has left the Government much stronger than before, and demonstrated the impossibility of any change, and it has as incontestably immensely strengthened and improved Palmerston's position; in short, he is triumphant, and nothing can overthrow him but some fresh acts of violence and folly, of insolent interference, of arrogant dictation or underhand intrigue, which may be so flagrant that his colleagues or some of them will not stand it, and so a quarrel may ensue. But he has achieved such a success, and has made himself so great in the Cabinet, and so popular in the country, and made the Government itself so strong, that if he turns over a new leaf, takes a lesson from all that has happened, and renounces his offensive manners and changes his mode of proceeding abroad, he may consider his tenure of office perfectly secure. Even the 'Times' is prepared to abandon its opposition to him, and is seeking for a decent pretext to do so. I expect they have found out that they have gone too far, and that their violent and sustained vituperation of Palmerston who is liked, and of his policy which is not understood, is not favourably received, and instead of carrying public opinion with them, they have produced a good deal of resentment and disgust.

DEATH OF SIR ROBERT PEEL.

CHARACTER OF SIR ROBERT PEEL.

July 6th.—The death of Sir Robert Peel, which took place on Tuesday night, has absorbed every other subject of interest. The suddenness of such an accident took the world by surprise, and in consequence of the mystery in which great people's illnesses are always shrouded, the majority of the public were not aware of his danger till they heard of his death. The sympathy, the feeling, and the regret which have been displayed on every side and in all quarters, are to the last degree striking. Every imaginable honour has been lavished on his memory. The Sovereign, both Houses of Parliament, the press and the people, from the highest to the lowest, have all joined in acts of homage to his character, and in magnifying the loss which the nation has sustained. When we remember that Peel was an object of bitter hatred to one great party, that he was never liked by the other party, and that he had no popular and ingratiating qualities, and very few intimate friends, it is surprising to see the warm and universal feeling which his death has elicited. It is a prodigious testimony to the greatness of his capacity, to the profound conviction of his public usefulness and importance, and of the purity of the motives by which his public conduct has been guided. I need not record details with which every newspaper teems. Those who were opposed to him do not venture or are not inclined to try and stem the current of grief and praise which is bursting forth in all directions, and most assuredly no man who in life was so hated and reviled was ever so lamented and honoured at his death. I am not capable of describing him with any certainty of doing justice to his character and delineating it correctly; but as there are several notices of him not very favourable in preceding pages, at such a moment it becomes a duty to qualify what may have been misrepresented or exaggerated on the information of others, by expressing my own doubts as to the perfect accuracy of the statements that were formerly made to me. The Duke of Wellington pronounced in the House of Lords a few nights ago a panegyric on his love of truth, and declared that during his long connexion with him he had never known him to deviate from the strictest veracity. This praise would be undeserved if he had ever been guilty of any underhand, clandestine, and insincere conduct in political matters, and it leads me to suspect that resentment and disappointment may have caused an unfair and unwarrantable interpretation to be put upon his motives and his behaviour on some important occasions. My acquaintance with Peel was slight and superficial. I never associated with him, and never was in his house except on two or three occasions at rare intervals. He scarcely lived at all in society; he was reserved but cordial in his manner, had few intimate friends, and it may be doubted whether there was any one person, except his wife, to whom he was in the habit of disclosing his thoughts, feelings, and intentions with entire frankness and freedom. In his private relations he was not merely irreproachable, but good, kind, and amiable. The remarkable decorum of his life, the domestic harmony and happiness he enjoyed, and the simplicity of his habits and demeanour, contributed largely without doubt to the estimation in which he was held. He was easy of access, courteous and patient, and those who approached him generally left him gratified by his affability and edified and astonished at the extensive and accurate knowledge, as well as the sound practical sense and judgement, which he displayed on all subjects. It was by the continual exhibition of these qualities that he gained such a mastery over the public mind, and such prodigious influence in the House of Commons; but it is only now manifested to the world how great his influence was by the effect which his death has produced, and by the universal sentiment that the country has to deplore an irreparable loss. Nothing but a careful and accurate survey of his career, an intimate knowledge of the secret transactions of his political life, and a minute analysis of his character, can enable any one to form a correct judgement concerning him. He might easily be made the subject of a studied panegyric, or as easily of a studied invective; but either the one or the other would of necessity be exaggerated and untrue. The sacrifices which he made upon two memorable occasions, upon both of which he unquestionably acted solely with reference to the public good, forbid us to believe that he was ever influenced by any considerations but such as were honest and conscientious. Notwithstanding his great sagacity, it may, however, be doubted whether his judgement was not often faulty, and whether in the perplexity of conflicting objects and incompatible purposes, he was not led to erroneous conclusions as to the obligations imposed upon him, and the course which it was his duty to pursue. It is very difficult to account satisfactorily for his conduct on the Catholic question. We must indeed make great allowance for the position in which he was placed by his birth, education, and connexions. His father was a Tory, imbued with all the old Tory prejudices, one of those followers of Mr. Pitt who could not comprehend and never embraced his liberal sentiments, and who clung to the bigoted and narrow-minded opinions of Addington and George III. It is no wonder then that Peel was originally an anti-Catholic, and probably at first, and for a long time, he was an undoubting believer in that creed. The death of Perceval left the Protestant party without a head, and not long after his entrance into public life, and while the convictions of his youth were still unshaken, he became their elected chief. For about fourteen years he continued to fight their battle in opposition to a host of able men, and in spite of a course of events which might have satisfied a far less sagacious man that this contest must end in defeat, and that the obstinate prolongation of it would inevitably render that defeat more dangerous and disastrous. Nevertheless, the man who eventually proved himself to be one of the wisest and most liberal of statesmen maintained for years a struggle against religious liberty, a struggle by which he was involved in inconsistencies injurious to his own character, and which brought the kingdom to the brink of a civil war. It is now impossible to fathom the depths of Peel's mind, and to ascertain whether during that long period he had any doubts and misgivings as to the cause in which he was embarked, or whether he really and sincerely believed that Catholic Emancipation could be resisted and prevented. It is strange that he did not perceive the contest to be hopeless, and that such a contest was more perilous than any concession could possibly be. But he declared that up to the period of Lord Liverpool's death his opinions were unchanged and that he thought the prolongation of this contest was not unreasonable. I do not see how he can be acquitted of insincerity save at the expense of his sagacity and foresight. His mind was not enthralled by the old-fashioned and obsolete maxims which were so deeply rooted in the minds of Eldon and Perceval; his spirit was more congenial to that of Pitt; and if he had let his excellent understanding act with perfect freedom, and his opinions take their natural course, it is impossible to doubt that he would have concurred and cooperated with the able men of different parties who were advocates of Emancipation, instead of continuing to encourage and lead on those masses of bigotry and prejudice whose resistance produced so much direct and indirect mischief. The truth is that he was hampered and perverted by his antecedents, and by the seductive circumstances of his position; and having become pledged and committed in the cause, it was a matter of infinite difficulty for him to back out of it, to recant his opinions, and change his course; although any one who watched the signs of the times (and no man watched or studied them more carefully than Peel), might have seen that Catholic Emancipation was steadily but surely progressing towards its consummation. For a long time no events occurred so striking and important as to produce a new state of things, and to scare by their disturbing force those theories and principles, with which the anti-Catholics blindly imagined they could plod on for ever. To change the whole mind of Peel, and bring about an abandonment of his long-continued policy, something more was required than the accustomed signs of agitation, parliamentary debates chequered by alternate victory and defeat, and the accumulated power of eloquent speeches and able writings. At length the crash came by which the moral revolution was effected. The Clare election did what reason, and eloquence, and authority had failed to do. The Duke of Wellington and Peel simultaneously determined to strike their colours, to abandon a cause which they had sustained at great risks and by enormous sacrifices, and to carry out the measure which their whole lives had been spent in opposing, and which they had denounced as incompatible with the safety of the country. Historical justice demands that a large deduction should be made from Peel's reputation as a statesman and a patriot on account of his conduct through the last twelve years of the Catholic contest. It may be doubtful in what respect he erred the most; but whatever his motives may have been, it is indisputable that he was the principal instrument in maintaining this contest, which terminated in a manner so discreditable to the character, and so injurious to the interests, of the country. For his share in this great controversy from first to last, he must be held responsible to future generations. But whatever his errors may have been, he made a noble atonement for them, and having once changed his mind, he flung himself into his new career with a gallantry and devotion deserving of the highest praise. It would be easy to show that if Peel had been actuated by selfish motives, by regard for his own political interests and views of personal ambition, other courses were open to him far better calculated to promote such objects, and which he might have adopted without any inconsistency; but he cast aside all personal considerations and thought of nothing but how he could most effectually serve the State. He encountered without flinching the storm which he knew would burst upon him, and bravely exposed his character and reputation to suspicions, resentments, and reproaches, which might for aught he knew be fatal to his future prospects. Upon this occasion indeed, he shared the obloquy with the Duke of Wellington, upon whom as Prime Minister the responsibility principally rested. But the indignation and resentment of the Tories fell, though unjustly, much more upon Peel than upon the Duke. Peel was more emphatically the chief of the anti-Catholic party, and in him it appeared a far greater dereliction of principle. The authority of the Duke was so great, and his followers were accustomed to look up to him with such profound deference and submission, that they could not bring themselves to attack him as the prime mover in this obnoxious measure, and they therefore made Peel the scapegoat, and vented upon him all the exuberance of their wrath.

PEEL'S OPPOSITION TO THE CATHOLIC CLAIMS.

Their ill-humour and resentment led to the destruction of the Duke's Government, and the change of Ministry brought about the Reform Bill and the overthrow of the Tory party. It is difficult to discern any proofs of sound judgement and foresight in Peel's conduct in regard to Parliamentary Reform. If he had adopted the same course as Huskisson on the East Retford question, and manifested a disposition to concede some moderate and reasonable reforms as fit occasions presented themselves, it is by no means improbable that the country might have been satisfied; but his opposition to the transfer of the East Retford franchise to Birmingham, together with the Duke's celebrated declaration that the representative system could not be improved, and that as long as he was in office he would oppose any measure of Parliamentary Reform, convinced the Reformers that they were resolved to make no concessions, however slight, and not to suffer any change to be made in the existing representative system. Peel evidently made an incorrect estimate of the state of the public mind upon the question of Parliamentary Reform. He could not indeed foresee the French Revolution or its contagious effects here; but unless the country had been already combustible, it would not have been so inflamed as it was; and if he had been aware of its temper and disposition, he never would have opposed the general sentiment so pertinaciously as he did. I think, therefore, that his course in respect to Reform exhibits a deficiency in sagacity and foresight, and must be accounted one of the blemishes of his political career. He fought the Reform battle with extraordinary energy, and the skill and perseverance with which he afterwards rallied the broken forces and restored the fallen spirits of his party were admirable. In 1835 the rash and abortive attempt of William IV. to get rid of the Whigs made Peel the Minister of a hundred days. This was the most brilliant period of his life, and it was during that magnificent campaign that he established the vast reputation which, while clouds of suspicion and distrust, of enmity and dislike, were all the while gathering about him, made him for nearly twenty years by far the most conspicuous, important, and powerful of English statesmen. He not only reorganised his party, but he revived its political influence, and laid the foundation for regaining its former power. His policy was as successful as it was wise. He flung himself cheerfully and confidently into the new order of things, associated himself with the sentiments and the wants of the nation, and day by day saw his reputation increasing both in Parliament and throughout the country. The Tories abandoned themselves to his guidance with a mixture of passive reliance and admiration and of lurking resentment for the past with distrust and suspicion for the future. They rejoiced in the chief who made them once more powerful, and led them on to victory; but they felt that there were no real sympathies between themselves and him. While he was boldly advancing with the spirit of the age, they were lagging behind, gloomily regarding his manifestation of Liberal principles, in which they did not participate, and lingering on those traditions of the past which they saw that he had entirely forsaken.

PEEL'S CONVERSION TO FREE TRADE.

At length, ten years after the Reform Bill, the Whig Government was overthrown, and Peel became Minister. At this time the great bulk of his supporters coveted power principally for the sake of Protection. They believed that it was the duty, the inclination, and the intention of Peel to maintain the Corn Laws, and they had a right to think so. He had been the vigorous and ingenious advocate of the protective system, not, however, without some qualifications and reservations, which, though they were enough to excite the jealousy and mistrust of the most suspicious, were still insufficient to neutralise the effect of his general professions. It is almost impossible to discover what the process was by which he was gradually led to embrace the whole doctrine of Free Trade. We cannot distinguish what effect was made upon his mind by the reasoning, and what by the organisation and agitation, of the Anti-Corn Law League. It would be interesting, if it were possible, to sum up periodically the exact state of Peel's opinions upon commercial and fiscal questions, and to know how he combined them with other political as well as party considerations, which he was obliged constantly to keep in view. No man but himself could explain and vindicate the whole course of his conduct. It may safely be assumed that when he began to reorganise the Conservative party, he did not contemplate a repeal of the Corn Laws, and that it was by a severely inductive process of study and meditation that he was gradually led to the conception and elaboration of the commercial system which the last years of his life were spent in carrying out. The modification, and possibly the ultimate repeal, of the Corn Laws must have formed a part of that system, but what he hoped and intended probably was to bring round the minds of his party by degrees to the doctrines of Free Trade, and to conquer their repugnance to a great alteration of the Corn Laws, both by showing the imprudence of endeavouring to maintain them, and by the gradual development of those countervailing advantages with which Free Trade was fraught. That, I believe, was his secret desire, hope, and expectation; and if the Irish famine had not deranged his plans and precipitated his measures, if more time had been afforded him, it is not impossible that his projects might have been realised. He has been bitterly accused of deceiving and betraying his party, of 'close designs, and crooked counsels,' and there is no term of reproach and invective which rage and fear, mortification and resentment, have not heaped upon him. He has been unjustly reviled; but, on the other hand, it must be acknowledged that, wise as his views, and pure as his motives may have been, his manner of dealing with his party in reference to the changes he contemplated, could not fail to excite their indignation. If they were convinced that the Corn Laws were essential, not merely to the prosperity, but to the existence, of the landed interest, he had been mainly instrumental in confirming this conviction. It was indeed a matter of extraordinary difficulty and nicety to determine at what precise period he should begin to disclose to his supporters the extent of the plans which he meditated. His reserve may have been prudent, possibly indispensable; but although they were not unsuspicious of his intentions, and distrusted and disliked him accordingly, they were wholly unprepared for the great revolution which he suddenly proclaimed; and at such a moment of terror and dismay it was not unnatural that despair and rage should supersede every other sentiment, and that they should loudly complain of having been deceived, betrayed, and abandoned.

PEEL'S DIFFERENCES WITH HIS PARTY.

The misfortune of Peel all along was, that there was no real community of sentiment between him and his party, except in respect to certain great principles, which had ceased to be in jeopardy, and which therefore required no united efforts to defend them. There was no longer any danger of organic reforms; the House of Lords and the Church were not threatened; the great purposes for which Peel had rallied the Conservative interest had been accomplished; almost from the first moment of his advent to power in 1841 he and his party stood in a false position towards each other. He was the liberal chief of a party in which the old anti-liberal spirit was still rife; they regarded with jealousy and fear the middle classes, those formidable masses, occupying the vast space between aristocracy and democracy, with whom Peel was evidently anxious to ingratiate himself, and whose support he considered his best reliance. His treatment of both the Catholics and Dissenters was reluctantly submitted to by his followers, and above all his fiscal and commercial measures kept them in a state of constant uncertainty and alarm. There was an unexpressed but complete difference in their understanding and his of the obligations by which the Government and the party were mutually connected. They considered Peel to be not only the Minister, but the creature, of the Conservative party, bound above all things to support and protect their especial interests according to their own views and opinions. He considered himself the Minister of the Nation, whose mission it was to redress the balance which mistaken maxims or partial legislation had deranged, and to combine the interest of all classes in one homogeneous system, by which the prosperity and happiness of the whole commonwealth would be promoted. They thought of nothing but the present sacrifices which this system would entail on the proprietors of land, while he thought only of the great benefits which it would ultimately confer upon the people at large. Whether in 1847 he was prepared for the unappeasable wrath and the general insurrection of the Protectionists, I know not; but even if he viewed it as a possible alternative, involving the loss of political power and a second dissolution of the Conservative party, I believe he would have nevertheless encountered the danger and accepted the sacrifice. If his party were disgusted with him, he was no less disgusted with them, and it is easy to conceive that he must have been sickened by their ignorance and presumption, their obstinacy and ingratitude. He turned to the nation for that justice which his old associates denied him, and from the day of his resignation till the day of his death he seemed to live only for the purpose of watching over the progress of his own measures, in undiminished confidence that time and the hour would prove their wisdom, and vindicate his character to the world. Though he was little beholden to the Whigs in his last struggle in office, he gave John Russell's Government a constant, and at the same time unostentatious support. That Government alone could preserve the integrity of his commercial system, and to that object every other was subordinate in his mind. He occupied a great and dignified position, and every hour added something to his fame and to the consideration he enjoyed; while the spite and rancour of the Protectionists seemed to be embittered by the respect and reverence by which they saw that he was universally regarded. His abstinence from political conflicts, his rare appearance in debate, and the remarkable moderation of his speeches made some fancy that the vigour of his faculties was impaired; but if this was at all the case, it was only by negative symptoms that it appeared, and was by no means suspected by the community. Nevertheless, though his death was so sudden and premature, and he was cut off in the vigour of life, he could not have died at a moment and in circumstances more opportune for his own fame; for time and political events might perhaps have diminished, but could not have increased, his great reputation.

EFFECTS OF PEEL'S DEATH.

It is impossible to foresee the political effects of Peel's death. To John Russell and to his Government it is a great loss, and the time may come when his absence will be severely felt. Standing aloof from parties, known to have no views of personal ambition, and giving them the benefit of his influence and countenance, he would have been able to afford them efficacious aid in the event of any Radical pressure, and as long as he had lived he would have proved a powerful coadjutor in resisting any attempts to assail or undermine the Monarchy or the Constitution, It is against the Radical supporters of the Government, and not against the Protectionist Opposition, that he would have been mainly serviceable. So far as these are concerned his death is more likely to remove than to create difficulties in the way of Lord John, inasmuch as he becomes more indispensable than ever; and the certainty that there is no alternative between him and Stanley—no Peel who in a great emergency might have been called in—will certainly prolong his term of office. Peel is a great loss to the Queen, who felt a security in knowing that he was at hand in any case of danger or difficulty, and that she could always rely upon his devotion to her person and upon the good counsel he would give her. But his relations with the Court at different periods are amongst the most curious passages of his political history. In 1838, when the Bedchamber quarrel prevented his forming a Government, there was probably no man in her dominions whom the Queen so cordially detested as Sir Robert Peel. Two years afterwards he became her Prime Minister, and in a very short time he found means to remove all her former prejudice against him, and to establish himself high in her favour. His influence continued to increase during the whole period of his administration, and when he resigned in 1846 the Queen evinced a personal regard for him scarcely inferior to that which she had manifested to Lord Melbourne, while her political reliance on him was infinitely greater. To have produced such a total change of sentiment is no small proof of the tact and adroitness of Peel; but it was an immense object to him to ingratiate himself with his Royal Mistress; he spared no pains for that end, and his success was complete.

He appears to have suffered dreadful pain during the three days which elapsed between his accident and his death. He was sensible, but scarcely ever spoke. He had arranged all his affairs so carefully that he had no dispositions to make or orders to give. Sir Benjamin Brodie says that he never saw any human frame so susceptible of pain, for his moral and physical organisation was one of exquisite sensibility. He was naturally a man of violent passions, over which he had learnt to exercise an habitual restraint by vigorous efforts of reason and self-control. He was certainly a good, and in some respects a great man; he had a true English spirit, and was an ardent lover of his country; and he served the public with fidelity, zeal, and great ability. But when future historians shall describe his career and sum up his character, they will pass a more sober and qualified judgement than that of his admiring and sorrowing contemporaries. It is impossible to forget that there never was a statesman who so often embraced erroneous opinions himself, and contributed so much to mislead the opinions of others. The energy and skill with which he endeavoured to make the worse appear the better cause were productive of enormous mischief; and if on several occasions his patriotism and his ability were equally conspicuous, and he rendered important public service, his efforts were in great measure directed to repair the evils and dangers which he had been himself principally instrumental in creating.

LORD CLARENDON ON THE LATE DIVISION.

July 16th.—I have seen Graham once or twice lately, when we have talked over his own position and the state of affairs. He told me he had had very friendly communication with John Russell, who had intimated to him that Peel's death would necessarily place him in a position more important and responsible. Graham, however, repudiated the notion of his accepting any such position, and declared that he was quite unfit to influence the opinions and regulate the conduct of other men. He thought Peel was not unconscious of the power he possessed in the country, and he had not long ago announced with great energy that if any attempt was made in any shape to reimpose a duty on Corn, there was nothing he would not do to oppose it; and he thinks that he would not have shrunk from any means he might have deemed conducive to that object; that he would have taken office if necessary, or have allied himself with any person or party; in short, shrunk from nothing in the most extensive sense of the term. Graham is much alarmed at the reckless course Stanley is taking in the House of Lords, especially with reference to the Irish Franchise Bill, and augurs some very serious consequences from it.

July 19th.—Clarendon arrived from Ireland a few days ago. He told me he had only seen John Russell for a few minutes, in a great hurry as he was going to the Cabinet, when these few words passed about foreign affairs. Clarendon said 'they had got well out of their difficulties on that score.'

Lord John.—Yes, I think it did—very well.

Lord Clarendon.—Yes; but don't misunderstand me. If what has passed serves as a lesson to Palmerston, and induces him to begin another course of conduct, I shall think you got very well indeed out of it; but if he only regards what has happened as a triumph, and as sanctioning and approving all his previous proceedings, then I shall think you got very ill out of it, and that your success was a misfortune; but I hope the former alternative is the truth.

Lord John.—I hope so, too; but it is very difficult to get any man who has long pursued any particular course to change that course, more especially when that man is Palmerston.

From this Clarendon inferred that Palmerston means to go on just as before and will not take a lesson from what has occurred, and he is confirmed in this idea by something Charles Wood said to him in the same strain.

Yesterday Normanby came to take leave of me before returning to Paris. He has been very much dissatisfied and annoyed at Palmerston's goings on, and at the rôle which was imposed on him, and he told me he did not like Palmerston's tone, which was much too triumphant, and he was very much afraid he would not change his ways of proceeding. His best hope was that no case would occur to elicit any fresh conduct or language of his of a questionable nature.

July 28th.—This day week the Radicals gave Palmerston a dinner at the Reform Club. It was a sorry affair—a rabble of men, not ten out of two hundred whom I know by sight. They asked John Russell who would not go, and then they thought it better to ask no more of Palmerston's colleagues. Neither Lord John nor any of them liked it, but of course they said nothing. Palmerston would have done better to repose on his House of Commons laurels, and find some pretext for declining this compliment. The Court are just as much disgusted with him as ever, and provoked at his success in the House of Commons.[123]

Brighton, August 26th.—I have been here for a week past. On Sunday last the death of Arbuthnot took place at Apsley House, where he had been gradually sinking for some time. He is a great and irreparable loss to the Duke of Wellington, who is now left alone in the world. Arbuthnot was almost always with him, he had his entire confidence. The Duke told him, and talked to him, about everything, and on the other hand, all who wanted to approach the Duke for whatever purpose, communicated through Arbuthnot. The Duke, who has for a long time been growing gradually more solitary and unsocial, more irritable and unapproachable, is now left without any friend and companion with whom he can talk over past events, and to whom he can confide present grievances and complaints. He will feel it as acutely as at his age and with his character he can feel anything.

DEATH OF MR. ARBUTHNOT.

Arbuthnot's career has been remarkable. He had no shining parts, and never could have been conspicuous in public life; but in a subordinate and unostentatious character he was more largely mixed up with the principal people and events of his time than any other man. He might have written very curious and interesting memoirs if he had only noted down all that passed under his observation, and the results of his political information and connexions, for few men ever enjoyed so entirely the intimacy and unreserved confidence of so many statesmen and ministers, and therefore few have been so well acquainted with the details of secret history. He was successively the trusted adherent and intimate friend of Lord Liverpool, Lord Castlereagh, and the Duke of Wellington, and more or less of almost all their colleagues, besides being on very good terms with many others with whom he had no political opinions in common. He had in fact a somewhat singular and exceptional position; much liked, much trusted, continually consulted and employed, with no enemies and innumerable friends. This was owing to his character, which was exactly calculated to win this position for him. Without brilliant talents, he had a good sound understanding and dispassionate judgement, liberality in his ideas, and no violent prejudices. He was mild, modest, and sincere; he was single-minded, zealous, serviceable, and sympathetic (simpatico), and he was moreover both honourable and discreet. The consequence was that everybody relied upon him and trusted him, and he passed his whole life in an atmosphere of political transactions and secrets. After the death of his wife he lived at Apsley House when in London, and during a great part of the rest of the year with the Duke at Walmer and Strathfieldsaye, and he went hardly at all into the world; but he rather extended than contracted the list of his personal and political friends, for as the Whig Ministers had often business to transact with the Duke, they generally found it convenient to communicate with Arbuthnot too; and, as he was always ready to render any service, public or private, in his power, he made many acquaintances and acquired friends in that party, specially the Duke of Bedford, with whom he had long been intimate, and who was in the habit of communicating with him very unreservedly on political matters. The preceding pages exhibit many proofs of Arbuthnot's familiarity with the political history of his time, as well as of his good sense and liberality. He was buried at Kensal Green, and the Duke is said to have been very much affected at the funeral.

Brighton, August 27th.[124]—Yesterday morning Louis Philippe expired at Claremont quite unexpectedly, for though he had been ill for a long time, it was supposed he might still live many months. Not long ago his life was the most important in the world, and his death would have produced a profound sensation and general consternation. Now hardly more importance attaches to the event than there would to the death of one of the old bathing-women opposite my window. It will not produce the slightest political effect, nor even give rise to any speculation. He had long been politically defunct. The effect that presents itself as most likely is its paving the way to a reconciliation between the two branches of the Bourbons, and a fusion of their interests; but as the late King had consented to this fusion and desired it, while the Duchess of Orleans was opposed to it, this consummation is more likely to be prevented than brought about by his death. His character has been often described with more or less of truth and justice, and of course there will be many fresh descriptions of it now. I cannot attempt it, for I never knew anything of him except at second-hand. He had certainly many good qualities and an amiable disposition, and probably no vices but selfishness and insincerity. These were, however, universally ascribed to him, and consequently out of the limited circle of his own family and a few friends and old servants, who were warmly attached to him, he inspired neither affection nor respect. The worst kings have seldom been destitute of many devoted adherents; but in his day of tribulation, although he may rather be accounted amongst the best than the worst, he was abandoned by all France, and his fall was not only unresisted, but suffered to take place with scarcely a manifestation of sympathy and regret.

November 10th.—After a lapse of nearly three months I resume my notices of past and present events, these three months having furnished very little matter worth recording nearly up to the present time. For the last month, however, the world has been sufficiently agitated, on different accounts and in different places, to afford ample opportunity for either description or comment even to the most superficial observer. I might, however, I have very little doubt, write that which would be acceptable to one person or another by recording my own personal experiences and the communications that I have with different people on different matters, which certainly are ludicrously miscellaneous. Some people like politics, some gossip, and almost all like political gossip. I have had within these few weeks consultations and communications on the most opposite subjects: men coming to be helped out of scrapes with other men's wives, adjustments of domestic squabbles, a grand bother about the Duke of Cambridge's status in the House of Lords, a fresh correspondence with Lady Palmerston about the 'Times' attacking her husband, communication from Cardinal Wiseman about the troubled state of ecclesiastical affairs, and so forth; odds and ends not altogether uninteresting, and making a strange miscellany in my mind. It is needless to attempt to say anything about the solution of the German question, touching which I have no private information whatever.[125] It is a drama, at which all the world is audience, and I have not been behind the scenes. I think we have played a very paltry part in it, and Palmerston's policy and conduct are so unintelligible to me that I shall say nothing about them. I agree in all that the 'Times' has written thereon, and its strictures have hit hard, as is evident by the resentment expressed by Lady Palmerston.

The Duke of Cambridge and his family have been, and still are, excited about the place he is entitled to occupy in the House of Lords,[126] and they are very angry with me because I said, in my pamphlet on Prince Albert's precedence ten years ago, that he was only entitled to sit as Duke of Cambridge according to the date of his peerage, and this I adhere to now. It is incredible what importance they attach to this nonsense. The Duchess of Gloucester sent to me to beg a copy of that old pamphlet, and afterwards the Chancellor did the same. I have had a correspondence with Lord Redesdale about it, who has taken up the Duke's cause, and sustained it by some very bad arguments and very inapplicable precedents. I have stuck to my original opinion, but nevertheless am now endeavouring to help the Duke to attain his purpose, and have furnished him with a better precedent than he and his advisers have been able to find for themselves.

THE PAPAL AGGRESSION.

But such trifles as these, and such serious matters as an impending German war, are uninteresting in comparison with the 'No Popery' hubbub which has been raised, and which is now running its course furiously over the length and breadth of the land. I view the whole of this from beginning to end, and the conduct of all parties with unmixed dissatisfaction and regret. The Pope has been ill-advised and very impolitic, the whole proceeding on the part of the Papal Government has been mischievous and impertinent, and deserves the severest censure. Wiseman, who ought to have known better, aggravated the case by his imprudent manifesto. On the other hand, the Protestant demonstration is to the last degree exaggerated and absurd. The danger is ludicrously exaggerated, the intention misunderstood, and the offence unduly magnified. A 'No Popery' cry has been raised, and the depths of theological hatred stirred up very foolishly and for a most inadequate cause. John Russell, who acted prudently in declaring his Protestant sympathies, joining the public voice in condemnation of the Pope's proceedings, and clearing himself and his Government from any suspicion of being indifferent to them, nevertheless writes a very imprudent, undignified, and, in his station, unbecoming letter. He might have said all that it was necessary to say without giving any offence; he might have taken the movement into his own hands, and satisfied the Protestants, and at the same time not dissatisfied the Catholics, pouring oil on the waters, and moderating the prevailing effervescence. But his letter has had a contrary effect. On one hand it has filled with stupid and fanatical enthusiasm all the Protestant bigots, and stimulated their rage; and on the other it has irritated to madness all the zealous Catholics, and grieved, shocked, and offended even the most moderate and reasonable. All wise and prudent men perceive this, and strongly disapprove of his letter; all his colleagues with whom I have spoken, and I have no doubt all the rest, do so; and Clarendon writes me word that the effect it has produced in Ireland is not to be told. I have already had a practical proof of the mischief it has done. Two days ago Bowyer came to me from Cardinal Wiseman, who was just arrived, to ask my opinion whether anything could be done, and what. I said if he had sent to me some time ago, and told me what was contemplated, I might have done him some service by telling him what the consequences would be; but that now it was too late to do anything, John Bull had got the bit in his mouth, and the Devil could not stop him. He told me the Cardinal was drawing up a loyal address to be signed by ecclesiastics and laymen, and asked me to look at it. I agreed, and he brought it the next day. I said it was very well as far as it went, and only suggested that the new Bishops should take care to sign their names only, and omit all allusion to their sees. This he engaged for. I then talked over the case, and what might be done. I said of course we could not expect the Pope to retract; but that if he was really desirous of doing what could be done to allay the prevailing irritation, he had better do that which he still could consistently; that he had not yet pronounced any decision as to the Irish Colleges, and he might either give one in their favour, or at least abstain from giving any at all, and the Cardinal would do well to urge this at Rome. Bowyer replied that this might have been possible before, but Lord John's letter had made it impossible now, and that this letter would be regarded as so insulting at Rome, and such a proof of the hostility of the British Government to the Roman Catholic religion, that they would put no trust in the writer of it, and it would be impossible to ask the Pope, nor would he be induced, to do anything in deference to the objects or wishes of this Government.

This odious agitation will continue till it is superseded by something else, or expires from want of aliment more solid than fanatical denunciations. Already sensible people, even those who are indignant at the 'Papal aggressions' as they are termed, begin to think the clamour exaggerated, that we are going too far, and raising a spirit of theological and sectarian hatred and enmity, which is dangerous and will be very troublesome. They begin to reflect that a great movement without a definite and attainable object is a very foolish thing, and as it is quite certain that the Pope will not retract what he has done, and that we can neither punish him nor frighten him, that his ecclesiastical arrangements will be carried into execution here whether we like it or not, and that as we shall take nothing by all our agitation and clamour, we shall probably end by looking very foolish. At present everybody, Protestants, Puseyites, and Catholics, are all angry, excited, and hostile. Some affect to be very angry and make a great noise because they think it answers an end. John Russell is somewhat in this way, for I don't believe he really cares much; the 'Times' newspaper does the same, and blows up the coals for the sake of popularity; but Delane, who begged me not to write, as I was inclined to do, something in mitigation of the movement, told me he thought the whole thing gross humbug and a pack of nonsense.

ANTI-PAPAL AGITATION.

November 21st.—The Protestant agitation has been going on at a prodigious pace, and the whole country is up: meetings everywhere, addresses to Bishops and their replies, addresses to the Queen; speeches, letters, articles, all pouring forth from the press day after day with a vehemence and a universality such as I never saw before. The Dissenters have I think generally kept aloof and shown no disposition to take an active part. A more disgusting and humiliating manifestation has never been exhibited; it is founded on prejudice and gross ignorance. As usual the most empty make the greatest noise, and the declaimers vie with each other in coarseness, violence, and stupidity. Nevertheless, the hubbub is not the less mischievous for being so senseless and ridiculous. The religious passions and animosities that have been excited will not speedily die away, nor will the Roman Catholics forget the insults that have been heaped on their religion, nor the Vatican all the vulgar abuse that has been lavished on the Pope. In the midst of all this Wiseman has put forth a very able manifesto, in which he proves unanswerably that what has been done is perfectly legal, and a matter of ecclesiastical discipline, with which we have no concern whatever. He lashes John Russell with great severity, and endeavours to enlist the sympathies of the Dissenters by contrasting the splendour and wealth of the Anglican clergy with the contented poverty of the Romanists, and thus appeals to all the advocates of the voluntary system. His paper is uncommonly well done, and must produce a considerable effect, though of course none capable of quieting the storm that is now raging. Wiseman does not evince any intention of receding in the slightest degree, but on the contrary there appears to lurk throughout his paper a consciousness of an impregnable position, round which the tempest of public rage and fury may blow ever so violently without producing the slightest effect.

Meanwhile the Government are, I suspect, in a great fix. They are all disconcerted and perplexed by Lord John's letter. When the Cabinet met and this letter was shown to them, Lord Lansdowne asked whether the letter had been already sent, and when informed that it had, he declined saying anything. As it was sent and published they thought it necessary to do something, and the law officers were accordingly desired to look into the law on the subject. There can be little doubt that the law will not touch the case, and they will hardly have the egregious folly to propose fresh laws which would be quite inoperative. Violence, menaces, and abuse never made any people flinch from their religious opinions or abandon any line of conduct they might have adopted in relation to them. The Catholics know very well that in these days any serious persecution is not to be apprehended, and, even if it were, the Roman Catholic clergy, to do them justice, have never shrunk from enduring any sufferings or privations to which they were exposed. They would probably rather like than not to see some attempt made here to revive penal laws, and to be exhibited to the civilised world in the character of martyrs. From the beginning I foresaw that we should cut a poor figure in this affair, and this is sure to be the result, whether we do anything or nothing. There is great difference of opinion whether this agitation will prove favourable or the reverse to the Roman Catholic religion in England, that is, to its extension. The Roman Catholics themselves evidently think we have by our violence been playing their game and that it will promote their proselytising views. Time alone can show how this will be. The Queen takes a great interest in the matter, but she is much more against the Puseyites than the Catholics. She disapproves of Lord John's letter.

THE SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN QUESTION.

November 26th.—At Brocket from Saturday till Monday. Nobody there; I found Lord Beauvale[127] in good humour with Palmerston, who, he assured me, had acted a very proper and a very spirited part in reference to German affairs, having had to fight against the violent and inveterate prejudices of the Court, to which some of his colleagues were not disinclined to defer. He said that although the Court were quite powerless in such matters as the Greek or the Sicilian questions, they could do a great deal of mischief in Germany, for being in constant communication with their relations and connexions there, they could exercise a good deal of indirect influence, and he thinks they have not scrupled to encourage the King of Prussia in his absurd conduct. A letter was sent to Palmerston, doubtless written by Prince Albert, in which they talked of Denmark wresting Schleswig from Germany, and that the triumph of Austria would be fatal to the constitutional cause. Palmerston replied that he had never heard that Schleswig belonged to Germany, and as to the constitutional cause it was more in danger from the King of Prussia, whose conduct was putting all thrones in jeopardy. Beauvale also showed me a letter from Berlin in which the writer said that nothing was more important there than the English press; and he begged me, as Palmerston was now really doing all he could in the right direction, to get him any support I could. Nobody knows whether this will end in war or peace. Palmerston, always sanguine, says peace; and Beauvale thinks, when Russia, France and England are all trying to avert war, that it cannot ensue.

The Protestant movement goes on with unabated fury, and the quantity of nonsense that has been talked and written, and the amount of ignorance and intolerance displayed, exceed all belief, and only show of what sort of metal the mass of society is composed. Of all that has been written and spoken there has been nothing tolerable but the Bishop of Oxford's speech, which was very clever; the letter of Page Wood in the 'Times' in answer to Wiseman; and everything without exception which has emanated from the Archbishop of Canterbury. He has displayed a very proper and becoming spirit with great dignity, moderation, and good sense. All the rest is a mass of impotent fury and revolting vulgarity and impertinence, without genius or argument or end and object—mere abuse in the coarsest and stupidest shape. It is not a little remarkable what a strong anti-Papist Clarendon is. He writes to me in that sense, but not so vehemently as he does to others; and I see how his mind is inflamed, which is odd in so practical a man. But this is obviously the result of the bitter hostility he has had to encounter in Ireland from the Roman Catholic clergy, notwithstanding the efforts he made to conciliate them.

December 1st.—I went to Brocket again on Wednesday, and returned on Thursday. Palmerston and Lady Palmerston were there, but I had no talk with her. Beauvale told me that Palmerston was acting with good faith, and doing what he could to avert war. Cowley had written from Frankfort that it was reported there that in the event of war we should support Prussia. Palmerston wrote back that we certainly should not, and desired him to contradict any such report. He sent his letter to the Queen by way of an intimation of his course. Meanwhile Radowitz arrived, and had hardly set foot in England before he was invited to Windsor, the pretext being that he brought over a letter from the King. Palmerston was not there, and John Russell left the Castle the day he arrived.

THE LETTER OF CAROLUS.

December 11th.—I could no longer stand the torrent of nonsense, violence and folly which the newspapers day after day poured forth, and resolved to write a letter, which was published in the 'Times' the day before yesterday, and signed 'Carolus,' for I did not venture to put my own name to it.[128] Delane could not bear publishing it, because it was in opposition to the strong line the paper has taken; and he told me beforehand he must attack me. Accordingly they replied to the article they published, but in very complimentary terms and with very feeble arguments. Labouchere told me last night this letter must do good, and make people think calmly. However, the agitation continues with unabated violence, and it is no wonder the masses are so intemperate and absurd, when we see how ignorant and senseless men are who ought to know better, and who pass for being clever and well-informed; and hear the unreflecting nonsense they talk, and the extravagant views they entertain. Bear Ellice, who is by way of being wiser than anybody, and thinks it is his vocation to advise everybody, told me on Monday that he had advised Charles Wood what to do, and this notable scheme was to place matters by legislation on the same footing here that they had been placed on in Prussia by Concordat. I told him it was impossible; and when he insisted, I asked him if he knew what the state of things was in Prussia: to which he was obliged to admit that he knew nothing about it! Then we see the Head-Master of Rugby School petitioning the Postmaster-General to remove a letter-carrier because he is a Roman Catholic! Clanricarde writes a very good answer, which is in the 'Times' of yesterday. Graham came to town yesterday on his way to Windsor, where he is asked to stay three nights, and he came and passed two hours with me yesterday morning. His opinions are precisely like my own, and he has written a letter to Howard of Greystock, exactly in the same spirit as 'Carolus;' he is not only very sensible but very bold on the subject, and quite prepared to confront public opinion in defence of the principles of religious liberty. We discussed the whole subject at great length. He acknowledged that the difficulty of the Government was very great. I enlightened his mind as to the part Palmerston has recently been playing in German affairs, which he was by no means aware of, and I hinted to him that his joining the Government would not be disagreeable. He owned that Palmerston would no longer be an insuperable objection, but that he could not be a party to any measures savouring of religious persecution, or even restriction. The Queen's answers to the addresses will have satisfied him, and all reasonable and moderate people; but I expect the zealots will cry out. Nothing certainly ever was more guarded.

December 13th.—At Windsor yesterday for a Council. My letter 'Carolus' has made a decided hit. Delane told me yesterday that it had certainly produced a considerable effect, as he could tell from the innumerable letters he received about it, some for and some against. The Ministers were for the most part shy of talking to me about it; but John Russell came up to me and said, 'Well, I have derived a great deal of information from your letter. I think it is very good.' I laughed, and said, 'I'm glad you like it; you ought to be pleased, because I have praised you up to the skies, and described your speech as a model of wisdom.' He laughed too, and said, 'Yes, but that was not the part of it I liked the best.'

CONVERSATION WITH LORD PALMERSTON.

I brought Palmerston from the station in my brougham; all very amicable. We talked about Popery and Germany, and agreed very well; he mighty reasonable. I asked him if he had had any conversation with Radowitz. He said none, except of the most general kind. He thought Radowitz had been advised to absent himself from Prussia, and that the King, for the present at least, was entirely with Manteufel. I then asked him what Prince Albert said to the turn affairs had taken. He said Prince Albert was reasonable enough; that he condemned the King of Prussia as much as anybody could; that he had been in favour of strengthening Prussia, and against the old Federation, because he thought the influence of Austria in it was too great, and that it was mischievously exercised; that the condition that no organic change in the Diet could take place there, without a unanimous vote, could not be endured; and that he thought, while the influence of Austria remained paramount, the liberal cause, and all advances in civilisation and general improvement, must be paralysed; and this was to a certain degree true. I said no doubt it was desirable to see changes and improvements, and for various reasons that Prussia should be powerful, if her power was only acquired by fair means, and without trampling on the rights of others, and on all obligations human and divine. He said, 'Exactly, that is the real case; but her conduct has been so wanting in prudence, in consistency, and in good faith, that she has arrayed against her those who wish best to her.' He told me the Pope had expressed great surprise at the effect of his measures, and disclaimed any intention of affronting the Queen or this country. The Pope said he had been induced to take the steps he had done by advice from this country, and Palmerston thinks that Wiseman was probably at the bottom of it all.

I went last night to the Royal Academy to hear an anatomical lecture by a Mr. Green.[129] It was on expression, and very well done. I never heard a man more fluent; he was very lucid in his expositions and illustrations, and really very eloquent.

Bowood, December 26th.—Went on Tuesday in last week to Panshanger, on Saturday to Brocket, Monday to London, and Tuesday here; we were very merry at Panshanger. The house and its Lord and Lady furiously Protestant and anti-Papal; so we had a great deal of wrangling and chaffing; all in good humour and amusing enough. At Brocket nobody but the Bear (Ellice), who talked without ceasing, and told me innumerable anecdotes about Lord Grey's Government, and different transactions in all of which he had himself played a very important part, and set everything and everybody to rights with his consummate wisdom. He is a very good-natured fellow, entertaining and tiresome, with a prodigious opinion of his own savoir faire, vain and conceited, though not offensively so; clever, friendly, liberal, and very serviceable. They put me at Brocket in Melbourne's room, and there I found a MS. book, containing copies of letters written by him to Lord Anglesey, while Lord Anglesey was Lord-Lieutenant and he was Chief Secretary—very familiar and confidential. They were very frank, and giving Lord Anglesey a good deal of advice, which on some occasions he seemed to require. Their good sense struck me extremely. There was a detailed account of the Huskisson quarrel, and the resignations thereupon, but it contained nothing that was new to me. William Lamb (as he was then) thought both the Duke and Huskisson were in the wrong; but he resigned with the others, because, he said, 'he had always thought that it was more necessary to stand by his friends when they were in the wrong, than when they were in the right.' Poking about to see what else I could find, I lit on two very different MS. One was a book which I suspect had belonged to Pen Lamb, containing entries and pedigrees of hounds and horses; and the other was a commonplace book of Melbourne's, which I had not time to examine much, full of quotations, criticisms, comments and translations, exhibiting various and extensive reading, especially of Greek literature. The next time I go there, I will look at it again.

DIFFICULTIES AHEAD.