Yesterday the first meeting under Brougham's new Bill of 'the Judicial Committee,' the Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Baron Parke, Justice Bosanquet, and Erskine (Chief Judge in Bankruptcy). I can't perceive that matters are likely to go on a bit better than when one Judge sat there, though the Chancellor endeavours to confer all the importance he can on his Committee, that he may hereafter figure there himself. There has been a lively controversy between the Whig and Tory papers, of which he has been the object, the former lauding his law reforms, the latter attacking his judicial incompetence. It is actually true that hardly any original causes are brought before him, and he has little business except appeals which must come into his Court. He feels himself every day in a more unpleasant predicament, and of course has a growing impatience to get rid of his judicial duties.

That he will by a series of tricks wriggle out of them there can be no doubt, for just now he can do whatever he pleases. What he wants is to be Prime Minister; his restless and versatile mind will then find sufficient occupation, and there is no department of Government which he does not think himself capable of presiding over, leaving as he would do all troublesome details to be worked out by others.

November 30th, 1833 {p.038}

A long sitting of our Court yesterday. The Chancellor comes regularly. Jenner (the King's Advocate) told me that he believed the Chancellor's object was to transfer all appeals from the House of Lords to the Privy Council. Lyndhurst (whom I met at Mrs. Fox's) said that it was quite true that he had no business in his own Court, for n.o.body would plead there, that he wanted to be Prime Minister, retaining the emoluments and patronage of the Great Seal, and getting rid of its duties. There can be no doubt that he does, and if Lord Grey dies, or is ill (in which case he will resign), he probably will succeed. It is amusing to see Brougham's tricks in small things; his present object is to raise the Judicial Committee as much as he can, and bring all the business there he can collect; in order to increase the appeals he proposed to allow of them from the Indian Courts _in forma pauperis_. This, however, was strenuously resisted by all the Judges and others present, and as he always takes the lead in all discussions relating to rules and regulations, when he found that the unanimous opinion of the Committee was the other way, he turned himself round and argued against his own proposal, stating or antic.i.p.ating the objections of the others, just insinuating incidentally counter-arguments, and ending by letting the question remain in abeyance.

[Page Head: STRATFORD CANNING AND DEDEL.]

Madame de Lieven told me an anecdote of Stratford Canning which highly delighted her, because it justified the resistance which the Court of Russia made to his nomination to that Emba.s.sy. The other day Dedel called on Palmerston. When shown into the waiting-room, he said, 'Tell Lord Palmerston that the Dutch Minister will be glad to see him,' when a man who was there, and whom he did not know, jumped up and said, 'And I desire you will tell Lord Palmerston that I have been waiting here these two hours, and that I expect to see him before anybody else;' and then, turning to Dedel, 'Sir, this is too bad; two persons have been already shown in to Lord Palmerston, both of whom came after me, and I expect that you will not go in to his Lordship till after me.' Dedel, who is the mildest and civillest of men, replied, 'Sir, far be it from me to dispute your right, and I a.s.sure you I have no desire to go in before you, but I only beg that if Lord Palmerston should send for me first you will understand that I cannot help going;' and then the other, 'Sir, I am Sir Stratford Canning.' 'And I am Mr. Dedel.' This extraordinary scene he told Madame de Lieven, not knowing what had pa.s.sed about the mission. Touching that affair, there is an understanding that he shall not go there, and no other Amba.s.sador is to be named till it is quite convenient to Palmerston.

The day before yesterday I met Sydney Smith at dinner at Poodle Byng's, when a conversation occurred which produced a curious coincidence. We were talking of Vaughan, the Minister in America, how dull he appeared, and yet how smart and successful had been 'The Siege of Saragossa,' which he published at the time of the Spanish war. Sydney Smith said that the truth was he had not written a word of it, and on being questioned further said that he was himself the author. Vaughan, who was a friend of his, had given him the materials, and he had composed the narrative. He then went on to say that it was not the only instance of the kind, for that the celebrated pamphlet which had been attributed to Lady Canning had not been written by her, not a word of it, that it had been written by Stapleton. I said that I had it in my power to contradict this, for that I had been privy to the composition of it, had seen the ma.n.u.script, and had at her request undertaken the task of revising and correcting it. Thus were two mistakes accidentally cleared up, by the circ.u.mstance of the only persons who could have explained them being present.

December 2nd, 1833 {p.040}

[Page Head: THE UNKNOWN TONGUES.]

I went yesterday to Edward Irving's chapel to hear him preach, and witness the exhibition of the tongues. The chapel was formerly West's picture gallery, oblong, with a semicircular recess at one end; it has been fitted up with galleries all round, and in the semicircle there are tiers of benches, in front of which is a platform with an elevated chair for Irving himself, and a sort of desk before it; on each side the chair are three arm-chairs, on which three other preachers sat. The steps from the floor to the platform were occupied by men (whether peculiarly favoured or not I don't know), but the seats behind Irving's chair are evidently appropriated to the higher cla.s.s of devotees, for they were the best dressed of the congregation. The business was conducted with decency, and the congregation was attentive. It began with a hymn, the words given out by one of the a.s.sistant preachers, and sung by the whole flock. This, which seems to be common to all dissenting services, is always very fine, the full swell of human voices producing a grand effect. After this Irving delivered a prayer, in a very slow drawling tone, rather long, and not at all striking in point of language or thought. When he had finished, one of the men sitting beside him arose, read a few verses from the Bible, and discoursed thereon. He was a sorry fellow, and was followed by two others, not much better. After these three Spencer Perceval stood up. He recited the duty to our neighbour in the catechism, and descanted on that text in a style in all respects far superior to the others. He appeared about to touch on politics, and (as well as I recollect) was saying, 'Ye trusted that your inst.i.tutions were unalterable, ye believed that your loyalty to your King, your respect for your n.o.bility, your'--when suddenly a low moaning noise was heard, on which he instantly stopped, threw his arm over his breast, and covered his eyes, in an att.i.tude of deep devotion, as if oppressed by the presence of the spirit. The voice after e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. three 'Oh's,' one rising above the other, in tones very musical, burst into a flow of unintelligible jargon, which, whether it was in English or in gibberish I could not discover.

This lasted five or six minutes, and as the voice was silenced, another woman, in more pa.s.sionate and louder tones, took it up; this last spoke in English, and words, though not sentences, were distinguishable. I had a full view of her sitting exactly behind Irving's chair. She was well dressed, spoke sitting, under great apparent excitement, and screamed on till from exhaustion, as it seemed, her voice gradually died away, and all was still. Then Spencer Perceval, in slow and solemn tones, resumed, not where he had left off, but with an exhortation to hear the voice of the Lord which had just been uttered to the congregation, and after a few more sentences he sat down. Two more men followed him, and then Irving preached. His subject was 'G.o.d's love,' upon which he poured forth a mystical incomprehensible rhapsody, with extraordinary vehemence of manner and power of lungs. There was nothing like eloquence in his sermon, no musical periods to captivate the ear, no striking ill.u.s.trations to charm the imagination; but there is undoubtedly something in his commanding figure and strange, wild countenance, his vehemence, and above all the astonishing power of his voice, its compa.s.s, intonation, and variety, which arrests attention, and gives the notion of a great orator. I daresay he can speak well, but to waste real eloquence on such an auditory would be like throwing pearls to swine. 'The bawl of Bellas' is better adapted for their ears than quiet sense in simpler sounds, and the principle 'omne ignotum pro magnifico,'

can scarcely find a happier ill.u.s.tration than amongst a congregation whose admiration is probably in an inverse ratio to their comprehension.

December 6th, 1833 {p.042}

The Vice-Chancellor, Parke, Bosanquet, and Erskine met yesterday to consider a judgment, and took three hours to manage it; business does not go on so quickly with many Judges as with one, whether it be more satisfactory or not. The Chancellor, the last time we met, announced to the Bar (very oddly) that for the future their Lordships would give judgment in turn. (He had himself delivered the only judgment that had been given.) The Vice-Chancellor, who I thought was his friend, laughed at this yesterday with me, and said that he wanted to throw off from himself as much as he could. I asked him (he had said something, I forget what, about the Chancery Bill) what would be left for the Chancellor to do when that Bill was pa.s.sed. He said, 'Nothing, that he meant to be Prime Minister and Chancellor, and that it was what he had been driving at all along, that the Bill for regulating the Privy Council was only a part of his own plan, and that all his schemes tended to that end.' Setting political bias aside, it is curious, considering his station, to hear the lawyers talk of him, the contempt they universally have for him professionally, how striking the contrast with the profound respect which is paid to Lord Eldon. The other day, in the action brought against the Chancellor for false imprisonment, Lord Eldon was subpoenaed, and he appeared to give evidence; when he entered the Court, while he was examined, and when he departed, the whole Bar stood up, and the Solicitor-General _harangued_ him, expressed in the name of his brethren the satisfaction they felt at seeing him once more among them. There is something affecting in these reverential testimonials to a man from whom power has pa.s.sed away, and who is just descending into the grave, and I doubt if, at the close of his career, Brougham will ever obtain the same.

December 9th, 1833 {p.043}

Went yesterday with Frederic Elliot and Luttrell to hear Fox, a celebrated Unitarian preacher, at a chapel in South Place, Finsbury Square. He is very short and thick, dark hair, black eyes, and a countenance intelligent though by no means handsome; his voice is not strong, and his articulation imperfect, he cannot p.r.o.nounce the s. His sermon was, however, admirable, and amply repaid us for the trouble of going so far. He read the whole of it, the language was beautiful, the argument clear and unembarra.s.sed, the reasoning powerful, and there were occasionally pa.s.sages of great eloquence. The conclusion, which was a sort of invocation to the Deity, was very fine. I like the simplicity of the service: hymns, a prayer, and the sermon, still I think a short liturgy preferable--our own, much abbreviated, would be the best.

December 13th, 1833 {p.043}

[Page Head: LORD TAVISTOCK ON THE LIBERAL PARTY.]

Met Tavistock at dinner the other day, and talked about the Government; from his intimacy with Althorp and connection with the others he knows their sentiments pretty accurately. He said that Lord Grey had so high an opinion of Althorp that he made his remaining a _sine qua non_, and accordingly he does remain. He thought Lord Grey would be glad to retire, but that he will go on as long as he can, because the Government would be placed in such great embarra.s.sment by his retreat. He did not think Brougham could succeed him, though he believed his popularity in the country to be great; that all depended on the part Peel took in the next session, for in the event of Lord Grey's resignation he looked to the King's sending for Peel to form a Government (much as Canning did when Lord Liverpool died), princ.i.p.ally composed of course of the _purest_ materials, but not exclusively, and that he did not think the great body of the Liberal party would make any difficulty of accepting office under Peel; that Stanley would not. He (Tavistock) thinks that Peel could not come into office _with_ the Duke of Wellington; the Tories (Irvine, e.g.) think he would not come in _without_ him.

December 18th, 1833 {p.044}

Went with Moore yesterday morning to the State Paper Office, and introduced him to Lemon.[4] It was at the new office, where the doc.u.ments are in course of arrangement, and for the future they will be accessible and useful. John Allen told Moore the other day that he considered that the history of England had never really been written, so much matter was there in public and private collections, ill.u.s.trative of it, that had never been made use of. Lemon said he could in great measure confirm that a.s.sertion, as his researches had afforded him the means of throwing great light upon modern history, from the time of Henry VIII. The fact is, that the whole thing is conventional; people take the best evidence that has been produced, and give their a.s.sent to a certain series of events, until more facts and better evidence supplant the old statements and establish others in their place. They are now printing Irish papers of the time of Henry VIII., but from the folly of Henry Hobhouse, who would not let the volume be indexed, it will be of little service. In the evening dined with Moore at the Poodle's. He told a good story of Sydney Smith and Leslie the Professor. Leslie had written upon the North Pole; something he had said had been attacked in the 'Edinburgh Review' in a way that displeased him. He called on Jeffrey just as he was getting on horseback, and in a great hurry. Leslie began with a grave complaint on the subject, which Jeffrey interrupted with 'O d.a.m.n the North Pole.' Leslie went off in high dudgeon, and soon after met Sydney, who, seeing him disturbed, asked what was the matter. He told him what he had been to Jeffrey about, and that he had in a very unpleasant way said, 'd.a.m.n the North Pole.' 'It was very bad,' said Sydney; 'but, do you know, I am not surprised at it, for I have heard him speak very disrespectfully of _the Equator_.'

[4] [Robert Lemon, Esq., F.S.A., was the Deputy Keeper of the State Papers, who rendered the greatest services in the cla.s.sification of the Records, which at this time were but little known and had not been opened to literary investigation.]

December 21st, 1833

[Page Head: HOSTILITY TO RUSSIA.]

There is great talk of war with Russia, which I don't believe will take place. I had a long talk with Madame de Lieven the day before yesterday, and was surprised to find her with such a lofty tone about war. She said that it was '_chance egale_;' that they neither desired nor feared it; that our tone had latterly been so insulting that they had no option but that of replying with corresponding hauteur; that if we sent ships to the Mediterranean they would send ships: that if those measures were pursued, and such language held, it was impossible to say that circ.u.mstances might not bring about war, though equally against the wishes and interests of all parties. In such a case we might destroy their fleet and burn their harbours, but we could not exclude them from Turkey, nor once established there get them out again. That we must not fancy we should be able, in conjunction with France, to keep the rest of Europe in check; for it was the opinion of the wisest heads, and of Louis Philippe himself, that a war would infallibly bring about his downfall. (This latter opinion is likewise, I find, that of the French ultra-Radicals; but they think the war must be a war of opinion, and that the extreme Liberals, who would thereby gain the ascendency, would make the King the first victim.) She complained bitterly of the language of our newspapers, and of our orators in Parliament, described the indignation of the Russian Court, and the dignified resentment mixed with contempt of the Emperor; in short, talked very big, but still there will be no war.--I met Dedel afterwards, and he told me that at Broadlands, where they all met, some explanations in a tolerably friendly tone did take place. The truth is that we have divested ourselves of the right of objecting to Russia's measures with regard to Turkey, although we do not dare acknowledge what we have done, nor our motives. We were (and we are) in a false position, and she has played her cards with great dexterity; but the Treaty[5] is another thing, and is justly calculated to excite our jealousy and suspicions. We have held this language to Russia with regard to the Treaty: 'We do not remonstrate, because we admit your right to make what treaties you think fit; but we give you notice, that if any attempt is made to enforce the stipulations of it against us, we shall not endure it, and you must be prepared for the consequences.'

[5] The treaty of Unkiar Skelesi.

1834.

Belvoir Castle, January 7th, 1834 {p.046}

[Page Head: BELVOIR CASTLE.]

After many years of delay, I am here since the 3rd, to a.s.sist at the celebration of the Duke of Rutland's birthday. The party is very large, and sufficiently dull: the Duke of Wellington, Esterhazy, Matuscewitz, Rokeby, Miss d'Este (afterwards Lady Truro), and the rest a rabble of fine people, without beauty or wit among them. The place is certainly very magnificent, and the position of the castle unrivalled, though the interior is full of enormous faults, which are wholly irretrievable. This results from the management of the alterations having been entrusted to the d.u.c.h.ess and Sir John Thurston (the former of whom had some taste but no knowledge), and they have consequently made a sad mess of it. There is immense s.p.a.ce wasted, and with great splendour and some comfort the Castle has been tumbled about until they have contrived to render it a very indifferent house; no two rooms communicating, nor even (except the drawing-room and dining-room, the former of which is seldom or never inhabited) contiguous. The gallery, though unfinished, is a delightful apartment, and one of the most comfortable I ever saw. The outside of the Castle is faulty, but very grand; so grand as to sink criticism in admiration; and altogether, with its terraces and towers, its woods and hills, and its boundless prospect over a rich and fertile country, it is a very n.o.ble possession. The Duke lives here for three or four months, from the end of October till the end of February or March, on and off, and the establishment is kept up with extraordinary splendour. In the morning we are roused by the strains of martial music, and the band (of his regiment of militia) marches round the terrace, awakening or quickening the guests with lively airs. All the men hunt or shoot. At dinner there is a different display of plate every day, and in the evening some play at whist or amuse themselves as they please, and some walk about the staircases and corridors to hear the band, which plays the whole evening in the hall. On the Duke's birthday there was a great feast in the Castle; 200 people dined in the servants' hall alone, without counting the other tables. We were about forty at dinner. When the cloth was removed, Esterhazy proposed His Grace's health, who has always a speech prepared in which he returns thanks. This time it was more simple than usual, and not at all bad. To-night there is a ball for the servants, which could not take place on the real birthday, as it fell on a Sat.u.r.day.

I have had s.n.a.t.c.hes of talk with the Duke of Wellington, and yesterday morning he retired with Matuscewitz, and had a long conference with him. The absolute Courts have a great hankering after the Duke, though their Ministers here can hardly look for his return to office; nor do I believe that if he was to come back he would be found indulgent to the projects of Russia, though he might be disinclined to continue so very intimate as we now are with France. He told me this morning he thought the French King's speech to his Chambers exceedingly good. He of course disapproves of all our foreign policy, particularly in the Peninsula. He says he sees no daylight whatever through the Portuguese affair. The Spanish may terminate in the success of the Queen, but only by her opposing Liberalism. He is convinced that if she introduces Liberal principles she will be lost. He says that the Spanish Government will be too happy to interfere in the Portuguese contest (as in fact I know that they have offered to do), but that we never can allow this, which besides the consequences of interference (as a principle) would necessarily make Portugal dependent on Spain. Arbuthnot, who is here, told me (and he hears these things from the Duke) that Matuscewitz had expressed the greatest contempt for Palmerston, and not the less for Lord Grey; and that, with regard to the latter, he had been much struck with his ignorance. I do not know on what points he meant, but it must be in history or diplomacy, which I am surprised at, because I thought he was a man of a cultivated mind and general information, who would be found, as far as knowledge goes, competent to any discussion. He likewise said that he found him slow of comprehension.

Belvoir, January 8th, 1834 {p.048}

There was a ball for all the servants and tenants on Monday, which the Duke of Rutland opened with Lady Georgina Fane, and the Duke of Wellington followed with Lady Brownlow. Yesterday half the people went to Belton; it was nearly impossible to get any talk with the Duke. He told me that the Russians were in no hurry to do any overt act in Turkey, and that their policy was as it had always been--to work very gradually. I asked him if he thought they really intended a permanent occupation of Turkey. He said certainly not; that they could not bear the expense of a war, which in that case would ensue; that the difference of the expense between their own and a foreign country was as between 10d. and 4s. a man.

To-day I have been all over this Castle; the arrangements are admirable, and the order and cleanliness of every part of the offices and the magnitude of the establishment are very remarkable, and such as I have never seen elsewhere. This afternoon Gosh [Mr. Arbuthnot] came and sat with me, and talked over all matters, which I have heard from him before, though he has forgotten it, which he well may, for his intellect, never very bright, seems to be almost entirely obscured. I daresay I have put down these things before, but as they are curious sc.r.a.ps of history they may as well go down again. It all relates to the break-up of Lord Grey's Government in '32, and the abortive attempts of the Duke to form an administration.

The King had given his word that he had never promised to make a single peer. Doubts arose whether he had not told a lie; they pressed him on this point (Wellington and Lyndhurst); he persisted in his denial, upon which they requested Taylor might be sent for, and all the correspondence produced, when they found he was pledged up to the throat, and without reserve. The King then attempted to get out of it by saying he had consented to call up the sons of Scotch peers and give to Irish peers English peerages, which he did not consider a creation of peers!

[Page Head: DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND MR. PEEL.]

When the Duke accepted the commission to form a Government, it was resolved to prorogue Parliament, and Lyndhurst was desired by the King to go to Lord Grey and tell him such was his pleasure.

Lyndhurst forgot it! In after times, those who write the history of these days will probably discuss the conduct of the great actors, and it will not fail to be matter of surprise that such an obvious expedient was not resorted to, in order to suspend violent discussions. Among the various reasons that will be imagined and suggested, I doubt if it will occur to anybody that the real reason was that it was _forgotten_.

Arbuthnot says they know that Lyndhurst was intriguing with the Whigs when the Duke was turned out in '30, and that it had been settled that he was to remain their Chancellor; and so he would have been if Brougham would have consented to be Attorney-General, and had not run restive, and given clear indications of his resolution to destroy the Government if he was left out of it. He says that notwithstanding the duplicity of Peel's conduct in 1832, he and the Duke are always on good terms, and no great question is ever agitated without Peel's coming to the Duke and talking it over with him; that Peel is determined to have nothing to do with the Whigs, and told him (Arbuthnot) so very lately, but the High Tories are just as unmanageable as ever. Chandos came to the Duke the other day, and told him he thought they ought to get up pet.i.tions against the malt tax. The Duke said he would countenance no such thing; that he thought the revenue of the country should be supported; for if it failed, recourse must be had to a property tax, which would fall on the aristocracy; and so he persuaded him to let the malt tax alone.

January 26th, 1834 {p.049}

I left Belvoir on Friday, the 10th, and went to Mrs. Arkwright's,[6]

at Stoke, where I found n.o.body but her own family. I was well enough amused for two days with her original conversation and her singing, and her cousin, Miss Twiss, who, with a face of uncommon plainness and the voice of a man, is sensible and well informed.

Then they both liked to have me, and that is a great charm; a little agreeableness goes a great way in the Peak, and it is not difficult to procure a triumph to one's vanity from people who, with a good deal of power of appreciation, have very little opportunity for comparison, and are therefore easily satisfied.

Arkwright told me that it was reported by those who were better informed than himself of his father's circ.u.mstances, that he is worth from seven to eight millions. His grandfather began life as a barber, invented some machinery, got a patent, and made a fortune. His son gave him offence by a marriage which he disapproved of, and he quarrelled with him, but gave him a mill.

Arkwright, the son, saw nothing of his father for many years, but by industry and ability acc.u.mulated great wealth. When Sir Richard served as Sheriff, his son thought it right to go out with the other gentlemen of the county to meet him, and the old gentleman was struck with his handsome equipage, and asked to whom it belonged. Upon being informed, he sought a reconciliation with him, and was astonished to find that his son was as rich as himself. From that time they continued on good terms, and at his death he bequeathed him the bulk of his property.

[6] [Mrs. Arkwright was a Kemble by birth, and had much of the musical and dramatic genius of that gifted family.

Her singing was most touching, and some of her musical compositions were full of originality and expression.]

Mrs. Arkwright told me the curious story of Sir Thomas Lawrence's engagements with her two cousins, the daughters of Mrs. Siddons.

They were two sisters, one tall and very handsome, the other little, without remarkable beauty, but very clever and agreeable.

He fell in love with the first, and they were engaged to be married. Of course under such circ.u.mstances he lived constantly and freely in the house, and after some time the superior intelligence of the clever sister changed the current of his pa.s.sion, and she supplanted the handsome one in the affection of the artist. They concealed the double treachery, but one day a note which was intended for his new love fell into the hands of the old love, who, never doubting it was for herself, opened it, and discovered the fatal truth. From that time she drooped, sickened, and shortly after died. On her deathbed she exacted a promise from her sister that she would never marry Lawrence, who firmly adhered to it. He continued his relations with her with more or less intimacy up to the period of her death, the date of which I do not recollect.