LORD MELBOURNE’S LITERARY CONVERSATION. After dinner there was much talk of the Church, and Allen spoke of the early reformers, the Catharists, and how the early Christians persecuted each other; Melbourne quoted Vigilantius’s letter to Jerome, and then asked Allen about the 11th of Henry IV., an Act passed by the Commons against the Church, and referred to the dialogue between the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely at the beginning of Shakespeare’s ‘Henry V.,’ which Lord Holland sent for and read, Melbourne knowing it all by heart and prompting all the time. Lingard says of this statute that the Commons proposed to the King to commit an act of spoliation on the clergy, but that the King sharply rebuked them and desired to hear no more of the matter. About etymologies Melbourne quoted Tooke’s ‘Diversions of Purley,’ which he seemed to have at his fingers’ ends. I forget what other topics were discussed, but after Lady Holland and Melbourne and Allen went to bed, Lord Holland, Bobus, and I sat down, and Lord Holland told us many anecdotes about the great orators of his early days. Fox used to say Grey was the most prudent man he knew, and this perhaps owing to his having got into a scrape early in his Parliamentary life, by attacking Pitt, who gave him a severe castigation; it was about his letter to the Prince being sent by a servant during the Regency discussions. Fox thought his own speech in 1804 on going to war with France the best he ever made. Lord Holland believed that Pitt (the younger) was not so eloquent as Chatham. Grattan said, ‘He takes longer flights, does not soar so high.’ No power was ever equal to Chatham’s over a public assembly, much greater in the Commons than it was afterwards in the Lords. When Sir Thomas Robinson had been boring the House on some commercial question, and introduced the word ‘sugar’ so often that there was at last a laugh as often as he did so, Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, who had put him up, grew very angry, and at last his wrath boiled over. When Robinson sat down Pitt rose, and with a tone and manner of the utmost indignation began, ‘Mr. Speaker, sir—sugar—I say sugar. Who laughs now?’ and nobody did laugh. Once in the House of Lords, on a debate during the American war, he said he hoped the King might be awakened from his slumbers. There was a cry of ‘Order! order!’ ‘Order, my Lords?’ burst out Chatham, ‘Order? I have not been disorderly, but I will be disorderly. I repeat again, I hope that his Majesty may be awakened from his slumbers, but that he may be awakened by such an awful apparition as that which drew King Priam’s curtains in the dead of the night and told him of the conflagration of his empire.’ Holland regretted much that he had never heard Lord North, whom he fancied he should have liked as much as any of his great opponents; his temper, shrewdness, humour, and power of argument were very great. Tommy Townshend, a violent, foolish fellow, who was always talking strong language, said in some debate, ‘Nothing will satisfy me but to have the noble Lord’s head; I will have his head.’ Lord North said, ‘The honourable gentleman says he will have my head. I bear him no malice in return, for though the honourable gentleman says he will have my head, I can assure him that I would on no account have his.’
September 13th, 1834
Dined again at Holland House the day before yesterday; Melbourne, Rice, Lord and Lady Albemarle, and Lord Gosford; rather dull. A discussion about who was the man in a mask who cut Charles I.’s head off; Mackintosh believed he knew. What a literary puerility! The man in a mask was Jack Ketch (whatever his name was); who can doubt it? Where was the man, Roundhead or Puritan, who as an amateur would have mounted the scaffold to perform this office? But the executioner, though only discharging the duties of his office, probably thought in those excited times that he would not be safe from the vengeance of some enthusiastic cavalier, and that it was more prudent to conceal the features of the man by whom the deed was done. Melbourne swore that Henry VIII. was the greatest man who ever lived, and Allen declared if he had not married Ann Boleyn we should have continued Catholics to this day, both of which assertions I ventured to dispute. Allen with all his learning is fond of a paradox, and his prejudices shine forth LORD BROUGHAM’S ABERRATIONS. in every question in which Church and religion are implicated. Melbourne loves dashing opinions.
September 18th, 1834
For some weeks past a fierce war has been waged by the ‘Times’ against the Chancellor. It was declared in some menacing articles which soon swelled into a tone of rebuke, and have since been sharpened into attacks of a constancy, violence, and vigour quite unexampled; all the power of writing which the paper can command—argument, abuse, and ridicule—have been heaped day after day upon him, and when it took a little breathing time it filled up the interval by quotations from other papers, which have been abundantly supplied both by the London and the country press. I do not yet know what are the secret causes which have stirred the wrath of the ‘Times.’ The ‘Examiner’ has once a week thrown into the general contribution of rancour an article perhaps wittier and more pungent than any which have appeared in the ‘Times,’ but between them they have flagellated him till he is raw, and it is very clear that he feels it quite as acutely as they can desire. While they have thus been administering castigation in this unsparing style, he has afforded them the best opportunities by his extraordinary progress in Scotland, and the astonishing speeches which he made at Aberdeen and Dundee, making more mountebank exhibitions than he did in the House of Lords, and exciting the unquenchable laughter of his enemies and the continual terror of his friends. Lord Holland told me that he was trembling for the account of the Edinburgh dinner. That great affair appears, however (by the first half of the proceedings), to have gone off very well. Lord Grey in his speech confined himself to general topics, and he and Brougham steered extremely clear of one another, but Brougham made some allusions which Durham took to himself, and replied to with considerable asperity of tone, avoiding, however, any personalities and anything like a direct collision. Everybody asks, How long will Brougham be permitted to go on playing these ape’s tricks and scattering his flummery and his lies? and then they say, But you can’t get rid of him, and the Government (dangerous as he is to them) could not get on without him. There would probably be no difficulty; experience has demonstrated to me the extreme fallacy of the notion that anybody under any circumstances is indispensable. Althorp appeared the most indispensable man the other day, but that was only because his friends and the fools in the House of Commons kept bawling out that he was so till they persuaded him, themselves, and everybody else that it really was the case. Who would have dared to say that this Government could have gone on without either Stanley in one House or Lord Grey in the other? But anybody would have been scouted as mad who had argued that it would go on just as well when deprived of both of them. The Chancellor’s amazing talents—his eloquence, sarcasm, and varied powers—can never fail to produce considerable effect; but in the House of Lords the field is narrow for the display of these qualities, the audience is cold and unfriendly, and he has excited such a general feeling of personal animosity against himself, and has done such irreparable injury to his character—having convinced all the world that he is desperately ambitious, false, capricious, intriguing, and governed by no principle, and under the influence of no sentiment of honour—that his influence is exceedingly diminished. Those who are charitably disposed express their humane conviction that he is mad, and it probably is not very remote from the truth.[6]
[6] [It is with pain and reluctance that I print these remarks on Lord Brougham, and several passages in the preceding pages of these Memoirs which are equally severe, and in some respects, I think, exaggerated. But I certainly do not feel myself justified in withholding them. They were all revised and corrected by the author himself with great care; and nothing but a true and full account of the sentiments which Lord Brougham’s conduct had excited amongst his colleagues and contemporaries at that time can account for the catastrophe which awaited him, and which excluded him for the rest of his life from official life and employment.]
Henry Taylor brought me a parcel of letters to frank to Southey the other day; they are from Newton, Cowper’s nephew (I think to W. Thornton), and they are to supply Southey with materials for Cowper’s Life, which he is writing. There is one curious fact revealed in these letters, which CANNING AND LORD HOLLAND. accounts for much of Cowper’s morbid state of mind and fits of depression, as well as for the circumstance of his running away from his place in the House of Lords. It relates to some defect in his physical conformation; some body found out his secret, and probably threatened its exposure.
September 19th, 1834
Yesterday at Holland House; nobody there but Melbourne. We were talking of Reform, and Lord Holland said, ‘I don’t know if we were right about Reform, but this I know, that if we were to propose it at all, we were right in going the lengths we did, and this was Canning’s opinion.’ Melbourne said, ‘Yes, I know it was, and that was mine, and that was the reason why I was against Reform.’ Holland then resumed that he had formerly been one of Canning’s most intimate friends at college; that at that time—the beginning of the French Revolution—when a general excitement prevailed, Canning was a great Jacobin, much more so than he was himself; that Canning had always hated the aristocracy (a hatred which they certainly returned with interest); that in after life he had been separated from Canning, and they had seen but little of each other. Just before he was going to India, however, Holland called on him, and Canning dined at Holland House. On one of these occasions they had a conversation upon the subject of Reform, when Canning said that he saw it was inevitable, and he was not sorry to be away while the measure was accomplished, but that if he had been here while it was mooted, he could have let those gentlemen (the Whig aristocracy) know that they should gain nothing by it. After dinner we had much talk about religion, when Allen got into a fury; he thundered out his invectives against the charlatanerie of the Apostles and Fathers and the brutal ignorance of the early Christian converts, when Holland said, laughing, ‘Well, but you need not abuse them so violently.’ They were in high delight at Holland House at the way the Edinburgh dinner went off. It was a very ludicrous incident that the Scotchmen could not be kept from falling to before Lord Grey and the grandees arrived, and when they did come most of the dinner was already eaten up. The Chancellor is said to have made an admirable speech at the meeting of savans, full of dignity, propriety, and eloquence, and the savans spoke one more absurdly than another.