Taylor’s ‘Philip van Artevelde’ — Goodwood — Earl Bathurst’s Death — Death of Mrs. Arbuthnot — Overtures to O’Connell — Irish Tithe Bill — Theodore Hook’s Improvisation — Lord Westmeath’s Case in the Privy Council — First Council of Lord Melbourne’s Government and Prorogation — Brougham’s Vagaries — Lord Durham’s Exclusion — The Edinburgh Dinner — Windsor and Meiningen — Spencer Perceval — Lord Grey’s Retirement — The Westmeath Case again — The Queen’s Return — Melbourne and Tom Young — Holland House — Reflections — Conversation on the Poets — Miscellaneous Chat — Lord Melbourne’s Literary Attainments — Lord Holland’s Anecdotes of Great Orators — Execution of Charles I. — Lord Melbourne’s Opinion of Henry VIII. — The ‘Times’ attacks Lord Brougham — His Tour in Scotland — His Unpopularity — Cowper’s Secret — Canning on Reform — Lord Melbourne on Palmerston and Brougham — Canning and Brougham in 1827 — Senior — Lord Melbourne and the Benthamites — His Theology — Spanish Eloquence — The Harley Papers — The Turf — Death of Lord Spencer — The Westmeath Case heard — Law Appointments — Bickersteth — Louis Philippe’s Position.
July 23rd, 1834
Brougham spoke for four hours on the Poor Law Bill on Monday, and made a luminous speech; Alvanley, to people’s amusement, spoke, and against the Bill; he spoke tolerably well—a grave speech and got compliments.
July 24th, 1834
Read Reeves’ ‘History of English Law,’ finished Henry Taylor’s ‘Van Artevelde,’ and read 250 lines of Virgil. ‘Philip van Artevelde’ is a poem of extraordinary merit, and the offspring of a vigorous and independent mind. The author, who is my particular friend, and for whom I have a sincere regard and a great admiration, took his work to Murray, who gave it to Lockhart to read. Lockhart advised Murray not to publish it, at least at his own risk, but he bestowed great encomiums on the work, and urged Taylor to publish it himself. He did so, without much DEATH AND CHARACTER OF LORD BATHURST. expectation that it would be popular, and has been agreeably surprised to find that in a short space of time a second edition is called for. With the vivacity of a sanguine disposition, and a confidence in the sterling merits of his poem, he now believes that edition will follow edition like wave upon wave, in which I fear he will be disappointed. [When the first edition was all sold, and a second called for, he made up his account with his publisher, and the balance was 37ℓ. against him.—November 29th.]
August 5th, 1834
At Goodwood for the races, so read nothing except half of Jacquemont’s Letters and a little book I picked up, the ‘History of the Grand Vizier Coprogli;’ called to town on Wednesday last for a Council, to swear in Mulgrave Privy Seal; went to Petworth on my way for one night. Stanley was at Goodwood, absorbed in racing, billiards, and what not; nobody would have guessed that all this rough and rustic gaiety covered ambition, eloquence, and powers which must make him one of the most eminent men, though his reputation is not what it was.
While I was there news came of Lord Bathurst’s death. He was a very amiable man and with a good understanding, though his talents were far from brilliant, a High Churchman and a High Tory, but a cool politician, a bad speaker, a good writer, greatly averse to changes, but unwillingly acquiescing in many. He was nervous and reserved, with a good deal of humour, and habitually a jester. His conversation was generally a series of jokes, and he rarely discussed any subject but in a ludicrous vein. His conduct to Napoleon justly incurred odium, for although he was only one of many, he was the Minister through whom the orders of Government passed, and he suffered the principal share of the reproach which was thrown upon the Cabinet for their rude and barbarous treatment of the Emperor at St. Helena. He had not a lively imagination, and his feelings were not excited by the contemplation of such a striking example of fallen greatness. I was Lord Bathurst’s private secretary for several years, but so far from feeling any obligation to him, I always consider his mistaken kindness in giving me that post as the source of all my misfortunes and the cause of my present condition. He never thought fit to employ me, never associated me with the interests and the business of his office, and consequently abandoned me at the age of eighteen to that life of idleness and dissipation from which I might have been saved had he felt that my future prospects in life, my character and talents, depended in great measure upon the direction which was at that moment given to my mind. He would probably have made me a Tory (which I should hardly have remained), but I should have become a man of business, and of the antagonist tastes which divided my mind that for literature and employment would have got the better of that for amusement and idleness, instead, as unfortunately happened, of the latter prevailing over the former. Though I knew Lord Bathurst so long, and was his private secretary for some years, and his family and mine have always been so intimate, I had no real intimacy with him. From what I have learnt from others I am disposed to rate his abilities more highly than the world has done. He was the friend and devoted admirer of Pitt, and a regular Tory of the old school, who felt that evil days had come upon him in his old age. When he left office with the Duke of Wellington he resolved upon finally quitting public life, and let what might happen, never to take office again. On coming to town yesterday I heard of another death—Mrs. Arbuthnot, after a short illness. The Duke of Wellington, with whom she had lived in the most intimate relations for many years, evinced a good deal of feeling, but he is accused of insensibility because he had the good taste and sense to smooth his brow and go to the House of Lords with a cheerful aspect. She was not a clever woman, but she was neither dull nor deficient, and very prudent and silent.