September 21st.—The old Crimean correspondent of the 'Times' has despatched a very interesting and graphic account of the coronation at Moscow, and Granville writes word that whereas he had estimated the cost of it at a million sterling, he was now led to believe it would be not much less than three. The coronation of George IV. cost 240,000l., which was considered an enormous sum and a monstrous extravagance. Our two last coronations cost from 30,000l. to 50,000l.
The quarrel with the King of Naples appears to be coming to a crisis, and though it will not produce any serious consequences now, the precedent of interference we are establishing may have very important ones at some future time, and though philanthropy may make us rejoice at some coercion being applied to put an end to such a cruel and oppressive government as that of King Bomba (as they call Ferdinand), it may be doubted whether it would not be sounder policy to abstain from interference with what only indirectly and remotely concerns us, and from enforcing a better and more humane system of government in a country where the people do not seem to care much about its tyranny and inhumanity. And then there is the great objection of dictating to and interfering with weak governments while we do not venture to deal in the same way with the equally flagrant abominations of stronger ones, to say nothing of a host of difficulties and objections which suggest themselves as possible, if not probable, results of our interference. It will afford to other Powers an excuse if not a right to interfere in like manner, whenever they require a pretext, and they consider it their interest to do so; and if such cases occur, the peace of the world will be largely endangered. As it is, I strongly suspect (for I know nothing) that the agreement on the Neapolitan question between France and ourselves is by no means cordial and complete. Mrs. Craven writes me word she has been in a house in the country with Walewski, who talked very openly (and no doubt imprudently) to her, telling her that Palmerston was very difficult to go on with. I know not what Palmerston has been doing, nor what his present policy may be, but I thought he had either abandoned or greatly modified that old policy of meddling and bullying to which he used to be so addicted, and at all events that while the foreign policy of England is directed by Clarendon, we should abstain from anything very arbitrary and violent. It is, however, whispered that Walewski is no longer in the good graces of the Emperor, and what I heard long ago about Her Majesty's opinion of him renders it not unlikely.
September 23rd.—All the little I hear tends to confirm the notion that there is an antagonism growing up between French and English policy, and that France and Russia are becoming more and more intimate every day. The points of the Treaty on which there are still some differences, and on which we appear to be making a great fuss, the French seem to care very little about, perhaps being rather disposed to side with Russia. These differences are very inconsiderable in themselves, but if they lead to coolness and estrangement between us and the French, and to an alliance between France and Russia, they may hereafter be very important.
Nothing can be more perplexed and unintelligible (at least to those who are not behind the curtain) than the international relations of the Great Powers and of their dispositions towards the smaller ones, and in such a chaos no little tact, discretion, and firmness are required to shape our foreign policy.
M. GUIZOT ON DEMOCRACY IN ENGLAND.
September 25th.—The void which the march of events fails to fill up cannot be better occupied than by the following extract from Guizot's notice on Sir Robert Peel in the 'Revue des Deux-Mondes' (1856). He is speaking of democracy in England:—'M. de Talleyrand disait dans la Chambre des Pairs, il y a quelqu'un qui a plus d'esprit que Napol�on ou que Voltaire, c'est tout le monde. On peut dire aujourd'hui m�me � propos de L'Angleterre il y a quelqu'un qui a plus de pouvoir que la couronne, plus de pouvoir que l'aristocratie, c'est tout le monde, et tout le monde c'est la d�mocratie. O� commence-t-elle? o� finit-elle? � quels signes visibles se distingue-t-elle des autres �l�ments de la soci�t�? Personne ne pourrait le dire, mais peu importe: pour �tre difficile � d�finir, le fait n'en est ni moins certain, ni moins puissant, les �l�ments les plus divers entrent dans la composition de la d�mocratie moderne, des classes riches et des classes pauvres, des classes savantes et des classes ignorantes, des ma�tres et des ouvriers, des conservateurs et des novateurs, des amis du pouvoir et des enthousiastes de libert�, bien des aristocrates m�mes, d�tach�s de leur origine par leurs mœurs, par leur aversion des g�nes et des devoirs que l'aristocratie impose. Et la position de la d�mocratie anglaise n'est pas moins chang�e que sa composition; elle ne se borne pas comme jadis � d�fendre au besoin ses libert�s, elle regarde les affaires publiques comme les siennes, surveille assid�ment ceux qui les font, et si elle ne gouverne pas l'�tat, elle domine le gouvernement.' All this seems to me perfectly true, and the best definition of the English democracy, its nature, and its position that could possibly be given, and that the nature of things admits of. Guizot evidently saw clearly a truth which might be elaborated into a very interesting essay, and which has often suggested itself to me, namely, that without any violence or ostensible disturbances or any change in external forms, this country has undergone as great a revolution as France itself, or any of the continental nations which have been torn to pieces by civil discords and contests. If we compare the condition of England at any two not very distant periods, and the manner in which power and influence have been distributed at one and at the other, this will be very apparent, and nobody can doubt that this process is still going on. We are, as Guizot says, 'dans une �poque de transition ... sous l'empire des principes et des sentiments encore confus, perplexes et obscurs, mais essentiellement d�mocratiques, qui fermentent en Europe depuis quinze si�cles et y remportent de nos jours des victoires dont personne ne saurait dire encore quel sera le vrai et dernier r�sultat.'
THE QUARREL WITH NAPLES.
October 3rd.—There appears to be a general feeling of uneasiness, almost of alarm, as if something was impending to disturb the peace of the world and interrupt the prosperity of nations, though nobody can very well tell what it is they dread. The apprehension is vague, but it is general. The only political question of any consequence in which we are concerned is that of Naples, and some fancy that the Russian manifesto prognosticates a renewal of the contest with that Empire. I have no such idea, but I am quite unable to comprehend what it is the different Powers are about; there is a general impression, probably not unfounded, that France and Russia are meditating a close alliance, and if this be the truth, it is not likely that Russia should have put forth a State paper offensive to France. It is by no means impossible that Gortschakoff may have ascertained that the declaration of his Emperor's opinion would not be distasteful to the Emperor Napoleon, who probably does not enter con amore into this contest with Naples and merely does it to please us.[1]
[1] [The British and French Governments had on more than one occasion remonstrated with the King of Naples on the cruel and arbitrary policy of his Government, which led eventually to his own destruction; but the King received these remonstrances very ill, and on October 28 the differences between these Courts had become so serious that the British and French Ministers were withdrawn from Naples, and a naval squadron appeared off the city. The Russian Government at this time issued a circular despatch complaining of these proceedings of the Western Powers, and denying their right to interfere for the purpose of extorting concessions from the King of Naples to his own subjects.]