'On the same evening I heard a story (probably a well-known one, but certainly good) of the Duke of Wellington and Napoleon's body; how the Government of the day wrote to the Duke to tell him they had agreed to let the French transport the corpse from St. Helena, the Duke being in Opposition at the time; how the answer ran: "F.-M. the Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to H.M.'s Ministers. If they wish to know F.-M. the Duke of Wellington's opinion as on a matter of public policy, he must decline to give one. If, however, they wish only to consult him as a private individual, F.-M. the Duke of Wellington has no hesitation in saying that he does not care one twopenny damn what becomes of the ashes of Napoleon Buonaparte."'
Sir Charles had always many friends among artists, and his weekly visit to the National Gallery was rarely intermitted by him even when in office. To the end of his life he maintained the habit of going there whenever he could make time, and always inspecting each new purchase. He kept in touch, too, regularly with the art of his own day, and records his sight of the first exhibition in the still unfinished Grosvenor Gallery. The exhibition did not please him as a whole, though he admired not only Burne-Jones's "Days of Creation," but a picture called "Passing Days," also allegorical, the work of Burne-Jones's disciple, Mr. Strudwick. His taste in art was always personal; Velasquez, the painters' painter, made no appeal to him. He worshipped Perugino and Bellini, rating "The Doge" among the masterpieces of the world; while Raphael had for him degenerated from his master's (Perugino's) perfection into mere expressionless beauty. His appreciations were made with great force and originality, and an old Academician who had accompanied him round galleries once said to the second Lady Dilke (herself a most authoritative judge of painting): "It is always interesting to see what a man like that will admire."
Mr. Chamberlain, Sir Charles's frequent guest at 76, Sloane Street, was usually his companion in picture-seeing. It is also recorded that in the spring of this year Dilke took his friend, 'at an unearthly hour for one of his lazy habits,' to see the Oxford and Cambridge boat-race.
In the matter of music his preferences were no less emphatic, as witness this entry:
'On May 29th I dined with a sister of Edward Levy Lawson, married to a German who was Rubinstein's great friend; and not only Rubinstein, but Joachim, played to the guests. Mrs. Bourke, a sister-in-law of Lord Mayo, was always asked everywhere in London where Joachim was meant to play, inasmuch as she was his favourite accompanist among amateurs. The modesty of the great man led him after dinner, once when I was dining with the Mitfords, when he knew that his time had come, to turn to Mrs. Bourke, who was famous only as shining in his reflected light, and say: "Mrs. Bourke, won't you play us something, and I will just come in with my fiddle?" Rubinstein's playing I never liked. To me he seemed only the most violent of all the piano-bangers of the world; but he was literally worshipped by his admirers, and was grand to look at—as fine as Beethoven must have been.'
Early in March of this year occurred the death of George Odger. The working class of London decided to show their great respect by giving him such a funeral ceremony as is rare in England, and Sir Charles walked bareheaded through the streets with the great procession that accompanied the body from the house in High Street, St. Giles's, all the long miles to Brompton Cemetery.
A shrewd observer of Parliaments wrote of Sir Charles at this time:
"There is no more popular man in the House of Commons than he who seven years ago" (it was only five) "was hooted and howled at, and was for many succeeding months the mark of contumely and scorn in all well-conducted journals."
On this statement Sir Charles's diary affords a commentary:
'At this time (April, 1877) there occurred some discussion between Chamberlain and me as to what should be our attitude in the event of the formation of a Liberal Government, and he was willing to accept office other than Cabinet office, provided that it was office such as to give him the representation of his department in the House of Commons. Chamberlain and I found that we could exercise much power through the Executive Committee of the Liberal Central Association, which was a new body which at this time managed the whole of the electoral affairs of the party. It comprised the two Whips ex- officio—the Right Hon. W. P. Adam, and Lord Kensington; and among the other seven members, Chamberlain and I represented the Radicals, and communicated with the union of Liberal associations commonly known as the Birmingham Caucus. Of the others Waddy was there to represent the Methodists; C. C. Cotes [Footnote: M.P. for Shrewsbury. He was a Lord of the Treasury and one of the Whips in Mr. Gladstone's second Government.] and Sir Henry James were there chiefly as amateur whips fond of electoral work; Lord Frederick Cavendish, to represent his brother, the leader of the party; and Whitbread, to strengthen the Whig influence.'