LORD GEORGE BENTINCK'S RAILWAY SCHEME.
Jarnac says if Guizot had been informed by Normanby or by any common friend that what he had said was offensive to Normanby, he is sure he would have given a sufficient explanation, but unluckily none of the Embassy are on such terms with him as admit of an amicable remonstrance. I told him what had passed between John Russell and myself, and that he wished me to see St. Aulaire. We agreed, however, that it was no use saying anything more till we saw how this matter proceeded at Paris. Matters are now as bad as possible there, and the French Embassy here think that the King alone can make them up. He is, however, exasperated, it seems, for Howden attempted to talk to him the other night, when he got excited and flew out, especially about the attempts to assail Guizot. Of course this squabble renders his position only the more secure, for his removal now on any pretext would be a dastardly concession to England which nobody in France would endure.
February 19th.—George Bentinck's railway scheme was signally defeated on Tuesday night: he had 118 with him, many less than he expected. He made a great exposure of himself in a reply full of bad taste, bad judgement, and impertinence. Peel made a very able speech, his attempts to reply to which were pitiable; the minority consisted of sad rubbish. Yesterday morning I was with Lord Lansdowne, and took the opportunity of pouring a broadside into him about the management of foreign affairs, and the necessity of his taking some decisive steps to prevent thateverlastingpetite guerrethat Palmerston will wage. I spoke very strongly indeed, and told him what the real state of affairs was at Paris. He made great grimaces and seemed vastly struck with what I said, and I hope something may come of it. This morning I have a letter from Normanby bitterly complaining of the article in the 'Times,' in which he is accused of holding communication with the enemies of the Government, and says it came at a very critical moment and prevented Guizot making theamendehe otherwise would have done.
February 20th.—Matters get blacker and blacker at Paris, and Normanby has got himself into a deplorable fix from which at present there seems to be no exit. I have letter upon letter on the subject, all full of grief and confusion. Normanby himself writes to complain of the harm the 'Times' has done him (a second letter), but seems still unconscious that it is his own precipitancy and Palmerston's violence that have got him into the scrape. The agitation at Paris is extreme, and the whole Embassy now seem frightened and to be recovering (now that it is too late) from their hallucinations about getting rid of Guizot, and their being able to carry everything with a high hand. William Hervey even now writes something like sense; and Howden tells Clarendon the truth, and just what I have been saying all along. Craven writes to me and anticipates nothing but Normanby's return and eventually war.
February 22nd.—On Friday Lord Lansdowne called me into his room, and told me I should be glad to hear that there was a probability of the quarrel at Paris being settled, as the King had undertaken to mediate between the parties. I went up to St. Aulaire directly after, but he had heard nothing of it. He expressed joy, and said it had all along been the only solution he had looked to. He then showed me a letter from Guizot to him, written two days after the debate, in which he said that he had spoken of Normanby with the greatest reserve, and avoided saying anything which could impugn his veracity or the intentional incorrectness of his report. I asked him whether Guizot would have saidthis to Normanby if he had applied to him, and he said certainly he would, he had no doubt of it. He then told me that a fresh ingredient had been cast into the cauldron from the foolish incident of the invitation to Guizot, and he read me a letter from M. de Cazes with an account of it. Normanby gave a great assembly on the 19th, and amongst the invitations, one was sentby mistaketo Guizot. Nothing ought to have been done but to let it alone; but very foolishly they made a great noise about it, and in a manner which was considered personally insulting to Guizot; they proclaimed all over Paris that they never intended to invite him. It had been settled in the first instance that the Ministers and others belonging to the Government should go to this party, and Guizot wished them to go; but after this incident M. de Cazes said it was thought impossible to go, and he believed none would. So much forgaucherieandmaladresse.
DEFEAT OF THE PROTECTIONISTS.
On Friday there was a fight and a division, in which the Government beat Stanley by eight. He probably did not make great exertions, but, on the other hand, not one of the Peelite peers, members of the late Government, voted with this. The whole affair was characteristic of Stanley, and, as such, is worth recording. He had resolved to attack the Sugar measure of the Government by proposing to refer it to a committee, and he sent for his peers to come up and support him. Clarendon asked him if he really intended to do this, and suggested he had better inform himself of the merits of the question before he decided. He agreed, and they sent Wood, the Chairman of the Excise, to him, who was with him for two hours, explained everything, and satisfied him the measure was unobjectionable. After this Clarendon asked him again if he still meant to bring on his motion. 'Oh yes,' he said, 'I mean to give you a gallop. It is a long time since you have had one, and it will do you good. Besides, I have brought my people up, and I must give them something to do now they are come.' If he had got a majority he would have been more perplexed than the Government, and this is the man the peers are ready to follow and to make Prime Minister. The Railway debate and the speech of GeorgeBentinck have thrown the Protectionists into consternation and dismay. Any remaining illusion about him has been entirely dissipated by the display of his intemperance and incapacity, but they have got him mounted on their backs, and they don't know how to shake him off. It is pretty clear too that there is no cordiality between him and Stanley, and that the Carlton dinner scene is still rankling in the mind of George Bentinck, as was sure to be the case, for he never forgets or forgives anything or anybody. He held forth the other night to Charles Villiers against Stanley's folly for bringing forward this sugar affair; said he had no case, and that he was 'a pretty fellow to find fault with him for proposing the advance of public money he had done: he who had proposed first a loan of twelve, and then a gift of twenty millions to the West Indians.'
February 23rd.—The Normanby quarrel is not made up: very far from it. The King had an interview with Normanby, but does not seem to have attempted a reconciliation. Lord Lansdowne, it seems, fancied he was going to do so from something which Howden had written. I had a long letter yesterday from Normanby full of futilities and excitement, and still fancying that Guizot is weak. Normanby's assembly on Friday was attended by none of the Government or Court people, and Guizot's (for it was one of his nights) was crammed full. Thecorps diplomatiquewent to both. Nothing can be more deplorable than the state of the affair, and Normanby seems quite unconscious of the poor figure he is cutting. Jonathan Peel came to me yesterday fresh from Paris, and says the spirit rising there and the excitement are very great, and matters have got into such a state, that the least collision anywhere, or any difference however slight, would produce an explosion and most likely a war. He says the people most against Guizot are now still more against England. One man (he would not tell me his name) said to him, 'M. Guizot has rode his race in a manner that gives us great satisfaction, but there seems to have been a little crossing and jostling in it.' The Kinginsinuatedto Normanby the other day that he did not approve of Guizot's conduct, and thatthough he must support himnow, he might get rid of him by and by—at least it appears Normanby put this construction on what he said, and continues in the miserable delusion that Guizot will fall. This cauldron is now boiling furiously: the bitterest resentment, immense excitement, continual mischief-making, passion, incapacity, falsehood, treachery, all mingling in the mass, and making a toil and trouble which everybody looks at with dismay and disgust, except probably Palmerston himself. The Chancellor of the Exchequer introduced his Budget last night with the loan, and was very well received. I was sure it would take.
ATTEMPT AT RECONCILIATION.
February 24th.—Went to John Russell yesterday morning to talk to him about French affairs; found him just going to Cambridge House, so walked there with him. I told him all I thought and all I heard from Paris. He said it was all very bad, but that Guizot's conduct had been atrocious. He let it be said all over Paris that he had given the lie to Normanby and never made any explanation. I said I was not inclined to defend Guizot, but that he was not just in this respect. We had not much time to talk it over, and he ended at the gate by saying, 'Well, I think they have both behaved as ill as possible.' 'There,' I answered, 'I entirely agree with you: but what is to be done?' He said he would do what he could, but he knew not what could be done. I suggested that Normanby had better come away for a time to get a break or a pause. He said Normanby wished this, but they were against it, and so we parted. I see that it will be very difficult to whip him up to any sustained exertion, and everything will probably go onau jour la journée.
February 25th.—I did not think anything could surprise me about Palmerston or his colleagues—the audacity of the one or the endurance of the other; but I was surprised yesterday. In the morning I went to the Euston Station to meet the Duke of Bedford and bring him to Belgrave Square. I then told him the state of affairs at Paris, what I had said to Lord John and Lord Lansdowne, and entreated him to try and do something and get something done. On Saturdaylast there was as usual a dinner at Palmerston's, where John Russell dined. At night, Clarendon had some talk with Beauvale who asked him how long this state of things was to go on, and if he was not aware of the danger of it; that it was no use to speak to Palmerston, but he thoughthe(Clarendon) might do something, and that he had been just talking to St. Aulaire on the subject. There they parted; but on Sunday morning he received a note from Beauvale saying that he found matters were much more serious than he had been aware of, and by a communication he had had from St. Aulaire that morning he learnt that Palmerston had formally announced to him thatunless Normanby received an immediate and satisfactory reparation the intercourse between the two countries should cease. This was done by Palmerston without any concert with, and without the knowledge of, his colleagues; and though John Russell,the Prime Minister, dined with him the same day, he did not think proper to impart to him what he had done. Clarendon then resolved to act without loss of time, but he first went to call on Charles Wood, where he found John Russell. He opened on the subject of the state of the French quarrel and its possible consequences, and said, 'What should you say if Palmerston was to make a communication to St. Aulaire that unless reparation was offered to Normanby, all intercourse between France and England should cease?' 'Oh no,' said John, 'he won't do that. I don't think there is any danger of such a thing.' 'But he has done it,' said Clarendon; 'the communication has been made, and the only question is whether St. Aulaire has or has not forwarded it to the French Government.' This at once roused Lord John, and he instantly wrote to St. Aulaire requesting him, if he had not sent this communication to his Government, to suspend doing so. Fortunately it was not gone. What passed between Lord John and Palmerston I do not know, but the result has been a more moderate instruction to Normanby from both of them.
LORD PALMERSTON THREATENS A RUPTURE.
Lady Palmerston had a letter from Madame de Lieven last night, expressing her hopes that it would be arranged,which looks as if Guizot would not reject the overture. She told me in the morning that St. Aulaire had asked Palmerston to get Normanby away, and whether they could notsend him out to India!!! All this supplies very serious matter for reflexion. It exhibits in the first place in the most striking manner the character and the determination of Palmerston, and I have not the least idea that the check he has received will either discourage or deter him for the future. He will soon begin again on this or some other matter. It exhibits likewise the tameness of his colleagues, who will submit to this and anything else he may choose to do. Most of his colleagues, indeed, will never be aware of what has occurred. Lord John, Charles Wood, Clarendon, and probably Lord Lansdowne know it; but most likely the others will remain in ignorance. Lansdowne may tell Auckland. It strikes me that there is something base and false in the transaction. Palmerston, in a manner which ought not to be forgiven, takes this important and violent step by his own authority, and without the knowledge of any of his colleagues. He is found out, baffled, and he ought to be mortified, and to think himself to a certain degree dishonoured. To have a communication of his9countermanded, without his knowledge, by the Prime Minister, is a sort of affront which any high-spirited man would naturally resent; but he is too much in the wrong to resent it; so he submits. An honourable, straightforward man would not have acted as he did; a high-spirited one would not have endured such a rebuff and mortification. But a Prime Minister who was sensible of the right and the duty of his position would not endure such conduct as Palmerston's, would not be satisfied with interfering in this particular case, but would at once assert his authority, loftily, firmly, and with a determination that it should be permanently respected. This I am pretty sure Lord John has not done.10How he has settled the affairwith Palmerston I know not, but it is certain that he has done no more than stop this attempt, and has left everything to go on as it may. The consequence is a state of things at once dangerous and disgraceful: he dissatisfied with Palmerston and entirely distrusting him; Palmerston dissatisfied and angry with him; the rest of the Cabinet either ignorant of what is going on, or disinclined and afraid to interfere. I have not the least idea of Palmerston's changing his conduct or his policy. His fixed idea is to humble France, and to wage a diplomatic war with her on the Spanish marriages, and to this object to sacrifice every other. He is moving heaven and earth to conciliate the Northern Courts. Ponsonby is doing everything he can at Vienna, and holding the mostdespoticlanguage. While there is the finest field open for us in Italy, and a noble part to be played, Palmerston is ready to truckle to Austria, and to abandon or counteract the Pope.11
I met Sir Robert Peel yesterday and walked with him some time. I have not had so much conversation with him for years. He praised the Budget, lamented the state of foreign affairs, and talked of Palmerston as everybody else does. I said we were always in danger from him, and he must know how difficult it was to control him. He said, 'I am only afraid that Lord John does not exert all the authority and determination which, as Prime Minister, he ought to do'. I said, he did itby flashes, but not constantly and efficiently.
Yesterday young Mr. Walter was brought to the office and introduced to me. Old Walter is dying, and his son is about to succeed (in fact has succeeded) to the throne of the 'Times,' and to all the authority, influence, and power which the man who wields that sceptre can exercise. He seems mild, sensible, and gentlemanlike. Though it was the first time we ever met, he talked to me with great openness about the affairs of the paper and the people connected with it. Iwas surprised to hear from him that my original friend Barnes, who left behind him a great reputation, was (though a good scholar) an idle boy, who never wrote a line in the paper, and never had anything to do with any one of the articles which all the world attributed to him.
LORD JOHN RUSSELL THREATENED.
February 28th.—At Court yesterday to make Lord Grey Lord-Lieutenant of Northumberland. They were in high spirits at the Prince's election at Cambridge.12Lord John Russell told me that the work of reconciliation at Paris was going on favourably. He asked St. Aulaire to give him a copy of what Guizot had written to him about his speech as to Normanby, which he did, and then asked him to write it officially to Palmerston. St. Aulaire said he could not do this without Guizot's consent, but he would ask him, and had no doubt he would give it. St. Aulaire read me a letter from Guizot, in which he said that he had no desire to get rid of Normanby, and begged me to write to Normanby and tell him so, which I did. Palmerston was at the Council yesterday with his usual gay anddégagéair. The day beforefor the first timethe matter was mentioned in the Cabinet, but in Palmerston's most offhand and dashing style. I found, however, that Grey was acquainted with what had passed, for he spoke to me about it. I did what I could to inspire him with a security I do not myself feel. There have been reports abroad of a dissension in the Cabinet about the Irish Poor Law, but it is not true. They have been all agreed, and in fact there has been no disagreement on any subject hitherto.
I always forget to notice a thing I heard many months ago, but which has never been known or talked of. A man (whose name and history I have now forgotten), who thought he had some claims on the Government for remuneration or employment, made several applications to John Russell, who would not attend to them. The fellow turned savage, and was heard to utter threats of personal violence, which from his determined character gave great alarm to the friends andadherents who heard of them. Great uneasiness prevailed for a time, and many consultations were held, and the matter was deemed so serious, that at last they resolved to get the man out of the country, and to purchase his forbearance, though not with public money. In this emergency the Duke of Bedford came forward and agreed to pay him a pension of 300l.a year, with which he was satisfied, and went abroad. The Duke, intimate as I am with him, never mentioned the matter to me in any way, and he does not know I am aware of it. I think it was Le Marchant who settled this affair, and I do not believe Lord John himself has ever been informed of it.
March 2nd.—Accounts came yesterday that this miserable quarrel of Normanby's was made up, but the end answered to the beginning, and nothing could be more pitiful than the reconciliation. Howden wrote Clarendon an account of it, in which he said very truly that Normanby was like the month of March—coming in like a lion, and going out like a lamb. He got the worst terms he possibly could, very different from his first pretensions. Apponyi managed it, and they met at his house. Guizot gave Apponyi a verbal assurance that he never intended to impugn Normanby's veracity, and he received one that Normanby had not intended any incivility in the matter of the card, nothing more, and this after Normanby had proclaimed that he would accept nothing but an apology in the Tribune of the Chamber of Deputies, and Palmerston had informed St. Aulaire that if such an apology was not made, the diplomatic relations should cease, and that it was for Guizot to consider whether he should establish between England and France the same state of things as existed between France and Russia—the business of the two Governments being transacted by Chargés d'Affaires. A most lame and impotent conclusion indeed. Normanby feels this acutely, for he writes to me a querulous letter, in which he says that, 'if he had obtained less than he had a right to expect, and if his positionthereshould not be quite as good as if he had insisted on more, it would be owing to the cavils and criticismsof those over-candid friends who allowed their opinions of the probability that there must have been someindiscretionon his part to be known through Jarnac or some one of that description exactly in the quarter where it was calculated to do the most mischief.' It is really a comical instance of self-delusion, to see Normanby going on even to me, protesting his innocence of the charge of indiscretion and of communication with the French Opposition,notammentThiers. It really is incredible that he can so deceive himself, and fancy he can deceive others.
THE DUCHY OF CORNWALL.
March 8th.—At the Stud House on Thursday and Friday. There I read one evening a part of one of my journal books, and I am glad I made the experiment, because I discovered how trivial, poor, and uninteresting the greater part of it is. I had read it over myself the night before, and did not find this out; but when I came to read it aloud, I saw at once that such was the case, with a few things worth hearing scattered about it, but on the whole dull. This has satisfied me that a very careful revision of the whole is necessary, and a selection of such parts as may hereafter be deemed readable.
George Anson told me yesterday that the Queen's affairs are in such good order and so well managed, that she will be able to provide for the whole expense of Osborne out of her income without difficulty, and that by the time it is furnished it will have cost 200,000l.He said, also, that the Prince of Wales when he came of age would not have less than 70,000l.a year from the Duchy of Cornwall. They have already saved 100,000l.The Queen takes for his maintenance whatever she pleases, and the rest, after paying charges, is invested in the funds or in land, and accumulates for him.
March 13th.—On Thursday night 'Cracow'13came on again, when George Bentinck made a long, violent, foolish speech, running counter to everybody's sentiments, andextravagantly praising the three Great Powers who had perpetrated the deed. Peel followed in a speech full of sense and judgement, and very good for the Government, the whole of whose conduct in this matter he warmly supported. Nothing can exceed the disgust and despair of the Protectionists at the extravagance and folly of their leader, but they have got him, and cannot get rid of him; they are in a regular fix, and every day becoming more disorganised and discontented. Meanwhile he, by all accounts, improves in manner and facility, which only makes him the more dangerous because he is full of increased confidence in himself, and pours forth with the utmost volubility the nonsense with which his head is full. I met Lyndhurst at dinner the other day, whom I have not seen for a long time, and he began talking in his usual offhand style: said that George Bentinck had ruined the party, and, if it was not for him and for Peel, that the Conservatives would all come together again. If this Government would now avoid all extremes, he thought they were in for a long time. He had told Stanley that, unless they could make some great exertion before the next election, the party was at an end. Stanley said 'they should do very well.' I asked Lyndhurst what could be expected of any party of which Stanley was the head, to say nothing of George Bentinck, and he owned he was utterly unfit; still, Lyndhurst has a hankering after patching up the party. He insists that Brougham has persuaded himself that this Government cannot go on, and that in any fresh combination a Chancellor will be wanted, and that somehow the Great Seal will fall into his hands. Brougham made a display of more than usual violence and indecency in the House of Lords last night, and proved (if there was any doubt) how necessary it is to have a Speaker to keep order there. He has really made the House of Lords a bear-garden.
MORE BLUNDERS AT PARIS.
Normanby writes from Paris out of humour: he has lost his senses and his temper; he harps querulously upon the details of his miserable quarrel, and thinks the Government have used him ill by not supporting him. He is writhingunder the consciousness of cutting a poor figure, and of the triumph Guizot has gained over him, but there is no end of hisgaucheries. When the quarrel was made up, and he invited Guizot to dinner, he selected the day on which Guizot himself always receives his friends. Guizot accepted, and announced that he should not receive that day, but of course the invitation was attributed either to stupidity or to impertinence. St. Aulaire asked me, 'Est-ce que c'était une étourderie, ou l'a-t-il fait exprès?' I assured him it must have been anétourderie, but an unpardonable one. What was graver, however, was that the first night of Guizot's reception after the reconciliation, when he ought to have taken care to go there, he went to Molé instead, and never went to Guizot at all. However, John Russell is now alive to foreign affairs, and his brother is keeping him up to it. The Duke told me he wrote him six sheets on the subject of our foreign relations, especially with France, 'very confidential.' The Government here are going on very well. Lord John speaks excellently; the Speaker says he never saw any Government do their business so well. Charles Wood's success is an immense thing for them; a good Chancellor of the Exchequer is a tower of strength to a Government. Goulburn was only Peel's chief clerk; Wood is taking a flight of his own. Every day strengthens the Government by exhibiting the utter incapacity of the Opposition, and the impossibility of any other Government being formed; and people who have no party heat or prejudices will have the best workmen; but there is a disposition tofronderin some quarters. I observed to Lincoln, whom I met, that the Government were going on very well, but he would not admit it.
March 14th.—Saw Graham yesterday, and had a long talk with him. He said John Russell's speech on the Irish Poor Law was the best thing he had done since he was Minister, and proved his competence for his high office; that he viewed with the deepest alarm the measure itself, but that, in the temper of the House of Commons and the country, it was inevitable; the Government could have donenothing but what they have, and, having come to that resolution, nothing could exceed the skill and judgement with which John Russell has dealt with it, and his speech had carried the question. He thinks the consequence will be a complete revolution of property, the ruin of the landed proprietors, and the downfall of Protestant ascendency and of the Church. He expects that the first to abandon the Church will be the Protestant proprietors themselves; that a tremendous ordeal is to be gone through, involving vast changes and social vicissitudes, but that on the whole, and at a remote period, it will produce the regeneration of Ireland. This, much elaborated, was the substance of his opinion. I do not pretend to enunciate any opinion as to the solution of this tremendous problem which gives rise to so many thoughts—social, political, and religious—perplexing the mind upon all. How those devout persons who are accustomed to find in everything that happens manifestations of divine goodness and wisdom, and are always overflowing with thanksgiving and praise, accommodate this awful and appalling reality with their ideas and convictions, I do not divine. To me no difficulty is presented, because I never have allowed my mind to be exposed to the hazard of any such perplexity. I do not pretend to define the attributes, nor to pass judgement on the counsels of God; 'meâ ignorantiâ et debilitate me involvo,' and I submit and resign myself, with an implicit and unrepining humility, to all things that are decreed, public or private, without venturing to pronounce an opinion, and without wishing to give vent to a feeling on things which are far beyond the reach of any human comprehension.
March 23rd.—Last week the political and commercial world were struck with astonishment at the sudden and unexpected announcement of a financial arrangement between the Emperor of Russia and the Bank of France, of which nobody, either politicians or financiers, could make head or tail, nor up to this moment has any light been thrown upon it.14Excursive and eager political minds, however, instantlyjumped to very vast conclusions, and beheld deep political designs, a monstrous union between France and Russia, French divisions crossing the Pyrenees, and Russian the Balkan.
STATE OF IRELAND.
For the last week the accounts from Ireland have been rather better, but the people are, without any doubt, perishing by hundreds. The people of this country are animated by very mixed and very varying feelings, according to the several representations which are put before them, and are tossed about between indignation, resentment, rage, and economical fear on the one hand, and pity and generosity on the other; and the circumstances of the case, which will appear fabulous to after ages, will account for this. There is no doubt whatever that, while English charity and commiseration have been so loudly invoked, and we have been harrowed with stories of Irish starvation, in many parts of Ireland the people have been suffered to die for want of food, when there was all the time plenty of food to give them, but which was hoarded on speculation. But what is still more extraordinary, people have died of starvation with money enough to buy food in their pockets. I was told the night before last that Lord de Vesci had written to his son that, since the Government had positively declared they would not furnish seed, abundance of seed had come forth, and, what was more extraordinary, plenty of potatoes; and Labouchere told me there had been three coroner's inquests, with verdicts 'starvation,' and in each case the sufferers had been found to have considerable sums of money in their possession, and in one (if not more) still more considerable sums in the savings bank: yet they died rather than spend their money in the purchase of food.
March 31st.—George Bentinck made another exhibition in the House of Commons the night before last in the shape of an attack on Labouchere more violent and disgusting than any of his previous ones. He seems to have lost all command over his temper, and his indiscretion and arrogancehave excited a bitterness against him not to be described. The Protectionists are overwhelmed with shame and chagrin, and they know not what to do: he has ruined them as a party; he was hooted even by those who sat behind him, and all the signs of disapprobation with which he was assailed only excited and enraged him the more. The Government are now anxious to dissolve as soon as they possibly can, justly thinking that the time is very ripe for them. There is at this moment certainly no party spirit, no zeal and animation in any quarter, and there are neither great principles nor measures in dispute to serve as war cries or rallying points. The only party, therefore, that has any interest in exerting itself is that of the Government, who naturally wish to keep the power of which they have got possession. The Irish Poor Law Bill is going through the House of Commons with hardly any opposition, and everybody, willingly or unwillingly, has made up his mind that the great experiment must be tried.
BIRTHDAY REFLEXIONS.
The Government meanwhile are in a state of great uneasiness at the condition of foreign affairs15in almost every quarter of the world—in Spain, Portugal, and Greece particularly; in Switzerland, in Italy, and Germany to a less degree; and they are not only in a state of uneasiness, but in one of extreme perplexity, because they by no means clearly see their way or have any accurate knowledge of the designs and objects of the different European Powers; they think, however, that France is now willing to let theententewith England drop, and is disposed to form connexions withRussia and Austria in a sort of semi-hostility to England, and by a mutual connivance at each other's objects. They suspect, without being sure of it, that the recent financial operation has a deeper political significance, and that the object of France is to secure the neutrality of Russia and Austria in the affairs of Spain, and to repay it by suffering the Austrians to coerce the Pope and put down the rising spirit of Italian improvement. Then the condition of Spain and Portugal excites the greatest apprehension, and the more because it is evident we do not know what we can or what we ought to do. I never saw people so perplexed and with so little of fixed ideas or settled intentions on the subject.
I met the Archbishop of Dublin, Whately, at dinner yesterday at Raikes Currie's. I don't think him at all agreeable; he has a skimble-skamble way of talking as if he was half tipsy, and the stories he tells are abominably long and greatly deficient in point.
April 2nd.—My birthday: a day of no joy to me, and which I always gladly hasten over. There is no pleasure in reaching one's fifty-third year and in a retrospect full of shame and a prospect without hope; for shameful it is to have wasted one's faculties, and to have consumed in idleness and frivolous, if not mischievous pleasures that time which, if well employed, might have produced good fruit full of honour and of real, solid, permanent satisfaction. And what is there to look forward to at my time of life? Nothing but increasing infirmities, and the privations and distresses which they will occasion. I trust I shall have fortitude and resignation enough to meet them, and I pray that I may be cut off and be at rest before I am exposed to any great trials. When we have no longer the faculty and the means of enjoyment in this life, it is better to quit it. With regard to that great future, the object of all men's hopes, fears, and speculations, I reject nothing and admit nothing.
Divines can say but what themselves believe;Strong proof they have, but not demonstrative.
Divines can say but what themselves believe;Strong proof they have, but not demonstrative.
I believe in God, who has given us in the wonders ofcreation irresistible—to my mind at least irresistible—evidence of His existence. All other evidences offered by men claiming to have divine legations and authority, are, to me, imperfect and inconclusive. To the will of God I submit myself with implicit resignation. I try to find out the truth, and the best conclusions at which my mind can arrive are reallytruthto me. However, I will not write an essay now and here. Sometimes I think of writing on religious subjects amongst the many others which it occurs to me to handle. Ever since I wrote my book on Ireland, I have been longing to write again, and for more than one reason: first, the hope of again writing something that the world may think worth reading; secondly, because the occupation is very interesting and agreeable, inasmuch as it furnishes a constant object and something specific to do; and thirdly, because I find that nothing but having a subject in hand which renders enquiry and investigation in some particular line necessary is sufficient to conquer idleness. Mere desultory reading does not conquer it, and there is a want of satisfaction in reading without an object. Why then do I not write, when I am conscious that I have a very tolerable power of expressing myself? It is because I am also conscious that I want knowledge, familiarity with books, recollection sufficiently accurate of the little I have read, and that facility of composition which extensive information and the habit of using it alone can give. It is when this struggle is going on in my mind between the desire to write and the sense of incapacity, that I feel so bitterly the consequences of my imperfect education, and my lazy, unprofitable habits. But no more of this now. To-morrow I am going to Newmarket to begin another year of the old pursuits.
THE POWER OF THE PRESS.
I dined with David Dundas the Solicitor-General the day before yesterday at the Clarendon Hotel: splendid banquet; twenty miscellaneous friends. Labouchere there told me that Lord Hatherton had not long ago shown him Dudley's diary, which is very curious.16It was very regularly kept,and told of everything he did, giving minute details of his adventures both in high and low life. Certainly nothing could be more injudicious than to commit to paper and to leave behind him such memorials as these, and accordingly Labouchere advised Hatherton to commit the MS. to the flames. Dudley speaks of his friends, and even of his acquaintances generally, in a very good-natured spirit, and of himself with modesty and diffidence. He was in a dreadful state of nervousness whenever he had to make a speech in Parliament. He felt very bitterly against his father, who, he thought, had ruined his prospects and character by the way he had brought him up. I hope Hatherton will not burn this MS., and that I shall some day manage to see it.
Yesterday Le Marchant told me an anecdote illustrative of the power of the press. He called late one night many years ago on Barnes at his house, and while there another visitor arrived whom he did not see, but who was shown into another room. Barnes went to him and after a quarter of an hour returned, when Le Marchant said, 'Shall I tell you who your visitor is?' Barnes said yes, if he knew. 'Well, then, I know his step and his voice; it is Lord Durham.' Barnes owned it was, when Le Marchant said, 'What does he come for?' Barnes said he came on behalf of King Leopold, who had been much annoyed by some article in the 'Times,' to entreat they would put one in of a contrary and healing description. As Le Marchant said, here was the proudest man in England come to solicit the editor of a newspaper for a crowned head!
Moxon told me on Wednesday that some years ago Disraeli had asked him to take him into partnership, but he refused, not thinking he was sufficiently prudent to be trusted. He added he did not know how Dizzy would like to be reminded of that now.
April 10th.—Just before I left town last week I saw Arbuthnot, who entreated me, if I had any influence with the Government, to get them to take up the subject of the defence of the country. He said it haunted the Duke of Wellington,and deprived him of rest, and night and day he was occupied with the unhappy state of our foreign relations, the danger of war, and the defenceless state of our coasts. He afterwards wrote to the Duke of Bedford on that, as well as about the Enlistment Bill, the provisions of which he does not approve of. The Duke of Bedford spoke to me about these things, and we agreed that it was desirable Lord John should see the Duke of Wellington very soon, and come to some understanding with him. On the defences, Lord John agrees in the propriety of doing what the Duke wants, but he thinks the danger of war is not imminent, and that it is better to do what is necessary gradually and without noise.
April 18th.—In consequence of the communications between the Duke of Bedford, Arbuthnot and me, Lord John saw the Duke of Wellington and has come to an agreement with him. The Duke will support their Enlistment Bill, and they give way to him in what he wished about the pensioners. Arbuthnot told me that the Duke was rather surprised that Lord John did not mention the subject of the defence of the country, nor tell him if he had seen the letters he has lately written to Lord Anglesey on that subject. It is impossible to describe his anxiety or his indignation at the supineness of the Government and the country in reference to this matter. What he wants is that the militia shall be called out, and 20,000 men added to the regular army, but this latter he knows he cannot hope for. His letters to Lord Anglesey are very strong. The Duke knows that some of the Cabinet entirely take his views; the subject has been brought before them, and Clarendon and Palmerston are as strong in this sense as the Duke himself. The Chancellor of the Exchequer is against anything expensive. Lord John seems to have been rather neutral. The Duke attributes all the obstacles his plans encounter to Grey; however, it seems probable that something will be done. Lord John will act, though not so rapidly or decisively as the Duke wishes.
ILLNESS OF LORD BESSBOROUGH.
Amongst other troubles the state of affairs in Portugal has exceedingly perplexed the Government, and a great diplomatic blunder seems to have been committed in regardto them. Some time ago Clarendon wanted to propose to France a joint interference and mediation with Spain, to settle the miserable quarrel which is ruining the country. The Cabinet would not agree to it, Palmerston being always against France, and the others disinclined to make any proposals to the French Government; but now they find out that they are wrong and that they had better have done this at first, for France has offered the Portuguese Government its assistance or interference, and the knowledge of this has induced us to make the proposal now which we had better have done long ago. It was an excellent opportunity for renewing amicable relations with France, properly, prudently, and without affectation.17
April 30th.—Troubles and difficulties of various kinds have not diminished since I wrote last. The state of Ireland continues not only as bad, but as unpromising as ever, and, in addition, there is the great misfortune, public and private, of the approaching death of Lord Bessborough, the Lord Lieutenant. His illness was very sudden, at least the dangerous symptoms were, and he is dying amidst universal sympathy and regret. Lord John has made up his mind as to his successor, but without telling his colleagues his intentions; he may have told some, but certainly not all, for he has not told Clarendon, with whom he is on very confidential terms.18The Duke of Bedford told Clarendon Lord John had talked it all over with him, and had settled what to do, but that he was not at liberty to reveal his intentions. This is acting independently anden maître.
The other night the Enlistment Bill was debated in the House of Lords, and the Government got a small majority by the aid of the Peelite peers. The Opposition were fullof eagerness and heat on this Bill and quite persuaded that the Duke of Wellington was with them. He had certainly given them to understand that he was so. Last week Stanley and Richmond were at Newmarket, and one day after dinner at the Duke of Rutland's we talked it over. I said they would find the Duke was not opposed to the Bill. 'Then,' said Stanley, 'he must be very much changed since I talked to him about it. There can be no secret as to what passed, because three or four people were present. I said to him, "Pray, sir, what is the necessity for this Bill?" and he said, "I'll tell you: they have got a d——d good army, and they want to make it a d——d bad one."' This, which was very characteristic, might very well convince Stanley and the rest that he was against Grey's measure, as, in fact, and in spite of this support, he really is, but he came to an agreement with the Government and promised to speak in favour of the Bill. So he did, but he spoke in such a way that though the Opposition were surprised and vexed at his supporting it at all, they saw pretty clearly that he did not like it, and they accordingly were not deterred from voting against it. Ellesmere told me yesterday that the Government must not attempt to try any fresh experiments with the army, for if they did the Duke would certainly resign.
THE QUEENS OF SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.
Affairs in Spain and Portugal are in a very strange state. The young Queen of Spain exhibits some character and some talent, but she is unsteady and uneducated. The turn matters have taken at Madrid is, however, enough to provoke and annoy the French, while every day exhibits more and more the infamy and disgrace of the marriage which the French Government forced upon the Queen. Her husband is a wretched imbecile sulky fanatic, who passes his life in trying to make embarrassments for the Queen, and in praying to the shade of his mother to forgive him for having married the usurper of his cousin's throne. They have been endeavouring to effect the semblance of a reconciliation between them, but he is incurably sulky, and will not make it up. Not long ago he sent for Pacheco, andtold him it was his desire that a Council should be convened forthwith. Pacheco said very well, but begged His Majesty would be so good as to tell him for what purpose he wished for it. The King replied that his object was to lay before the Council proofs of the Queen's infidelity to him. Pacheco said if that was his object he must beg to decline to summon the Council. On this he announced that he had prepared a manifesto to the nation setting forth his wrongs, and that it should be immediately published. They persuaded him to desist from this scandalous intention, and as a sort of compromise they got Serrano to quit Madrid. It appears that the Queen-mother, seeing how matters were going on, intended to return; but her daughter had no mind she should, and told her Ministers they had better look to it. It was their affair, but that if Mama came back matters would go ill. On this they sent Concha to Paris to stop her. Christina wrote Isabella a lecture on her proceedings, and told her that she was too little educated to know how to conduct herself properly, to which she replied, 'Mama knows that I did not educate myself.' However, everything is in a state of the greatest doubt and uncertainty there, and the French are sure to begin their intrigues again and to create as much confusion as they can.
In Portugal, the other Queen continues as obstinate as ever, yielding inch by inch as the danger approaches her more nearly, and is supported in her obstinacy by the security she is still able to find in foreign intervention. We have anchored our ships close to the town, and are prepared to land our Marines to protect her person, and, thus knowing she is personally safe, she is emboldened to refuse or demur to the terms of accommodation which Palmerston has suggested, and to try on the chances of war totally regardless, of course, of the misery of prolonging the contest. The natural course for us to take would be to offer our mediation, and if she refused it to withdraw our ships and leave her to her fate. But we cannot do this, because if we were to desert her the Spaniards and French would instantly step in and reconquer her kingdom for her. Such is thenodo sviluppatoin whichthese wretched affairs are involved. Lisbon is ready to rise in insurrection the moment the army of the Junta makes its appearance. Southern writes very curious accounts to Clarendon of the state of the town. The jealousy and aversion of the Queen of Portugal to him have compelled him to withdraw altogether from the affairs of the mission, though he is still Secretary of Legation. Our Court continues to take the same interest in the Lisbon Coburgs, and would willingly interfere in their favour with more vigour if the Ministers would consent to do so. Palmerston's defects prove rather useful in his intercourse with the Court. To their wishes or remonstrances he expresses the greatest deference, and then goes on in his own course without paying the least attention to what they have been saying to him.
May 2nd.—Yesterday morning the Duke of Bedford called on me, and told me Lord John's secret intentions about Ireland, which he said he had not yet imparted to any of the Cabinet, and only discussed with him. I believe, however, that Lord John has told Labouchere, and nobody else. He thinks of taking this opportunity of abolishing the office of Lord-Lieutenant and making a Secretary of State for Ireland, who is not to reside permanently but go there occasionally, and he destines this office for Clarendon. This is his plan, which, however, he has by no means determined on, and they both think it doubtful if it would do. The moment, however, seems propitious for effecting this alteration; there is no O'Connell either to inveigh against it or to seize any power that may be, or appear to be, relinquished, and the difficulty of selecting a successor to Lord Bessborough is so great as to be almost insuperable. Meanwhile the town is full of reports about a new Lord-Lieutenant, nobody dreaming of what Lord John is resolving in his mind. Everybody has got some story (from the best authority) of the post having been offered to this person, and pressed upon that. Bessborough still lingers on, and a more striking and touching deathbed has seldom been seen. He is surrounded by the whole of his numerous family, overwhelmed withaffliction, a general manifestation of sympathy and regret, and the deep sense which is entertained of the loss which the country will sustain by his death, afford the best and most feeling testimony to his capacity and his merit. He is perfectly aware of his condition, and in full possession of his faculties. Duncannon wrote to John Russell yesterday, as I am told, an admirable letter, which was sent to the Queen. Bessborough was bent upon writing himself to John Russell before he died, and was preparing to do so. Certainly a greater loss both public and private has seldom occurred.