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.