The dinner, and the dessert when the servants were removed, were delightful. How I wish my dear Susanna and Fredy could meet this wonderful man when he is easy, happy, and with people he cordially likes! But politics, even on his own side, must always be excluded; his irritability Is so terrible on that theme that it gives immediately to his face the expression of a man who is going to defend himself from murderers. I can give you only a few little detached traits of what passed, as detail would be endless.
Charles Fox being mentioned, Mrs. Crewe told us that he had lately said, upon being shown some passage in Mr. Burke’s book which he had warmly opposed, but which had, in the event, made its own justification, very candidly, “Well! Burke is right—but Burke is often right, only he is right too soon.”
“Had Fox seen some things in that book,” answered Mr. Burke, “as soon, he would at this moment, in all probability, be first minister of this country.”
“What!” cried Mrs. Crewe, “with Pitt?—No!—no!—Pitt won’t go out, and Charles Fox will never make a coalition with Pitt.”
“And why not?” said Mr. Burke, dryly; “why not this coalition as well as other coalitions?”
Nobody tried to answer this.
“Charles Fox, however,” said Mr. Burke afterwards, “can never internally like the French Revolution. He is entangled; but, in himself, if he should find no other objection to it, he has at least too much taste for such a revolution.”
Mr. Elliot related that he had lately been in a company of some of the first and most distinguished men of the French nation, now fugitives here, and had asked them some questions about the new French ministry; they had answered that they knew them not even by name till now! “Think,” cried he, “what a ministry that must be! Suppose a new administration formed here of Englishmen of whom we had never before heard the names! what statesmen they must be! how prepared and fitted for government! To begin by being at the helm!”
Mr. Richard Burke related, very comically, various censures cast upon his brother, accusing him of being the friend of despots, and the abettor of slavery, because he had been shocked at the imprisonment of the king of France, and was anxious to preserve our own limited monarchy in the same state in which it so long had flourished.
Mr. Burke looked half alarmed at his brother’s opening, but, when he had finished, he very good-humouredly poured out a glass of wine, and, turning to me, said, “Come then—here’s slavery for ever!”