w f 1 !Tu IVT *L?V \V« yf,C\ V\A 1 ir< F"HISjjjfim ^ jwv^Onwi f4 J'^|^f ; i W\ £< THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY B » Latest D^t b ° 0k ° n 0r before cha ®* Date famped below. A charge „ made on all overdue T.Ul— H41 WE LIBRARY OF TR£ UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS " f •- Engravedby W. Eoffe, froin a PhotograpE by Jabez Hughes, tahsnby command, of H.M.the Queen. *VM MACKENZIE, LONDON, EDINBURGH Sc GLASGOW. * •» ■ - THE & RIGHT HON. BENJAMIN DISRAELI, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD, K.G., AND HIS TIMES. BY ALEXANDER CHARLES EWALD, F.S.A., AUTHOR OF “SIR ROBERT WALPOLE, A POLITICAL BIOGRAPHY;” “THE LIFE AND TIMES OF PRINCE CHARLES STUART;” “REPRESENTATIVE STATESMEN," 1 ETC., ETC. VOL. 1. LONDON: WILLIAM MACKENZIE, 69 LUDGATE HILL, E.C.; EDINBURGH AND DUBLIN. 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CHAPTER I. “DISRAELI THE YOUNGER.” On the bead-roll of English statesmen the name of Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beacons- field, will only cease to occupy the foremost position when English politics have no further existence. Born to none of those advantages which his predecessors in office enjoyed, he owed the brilliant name he made for himself, and the lofty post he gained with its splendid tenure of power, alone to those rich intellectual gifts which render their possessor independent of the glamour of birth or the favours of fortune. At the outset of his career every obstacle that impediment could devise barred the path of his advancement to the position he subsequently attained, of leader of the Eng¬ lish landed interest, and as a potent author¬ ity in the councils of Europe. He bore a foreign name; in his veins flowed the blood of a then despised and outcast race; though not poor, his means were too slender to offer any compensation for the disadvan¬ tages under which he laboured; he had passed through none of that social prepara¬ tory training—boyhood at a public school, manhood at a university—which generally qualifies the English gentleman ambitious of VOL. i. parliamentary honours; yet ignored, friend¬ less, and the constant butt of all the ridicule and sarcasm that the most venomous malice could inspire, he rose to heights such as Burke had never dreamed of, and swayed a power such as neither Walpole nor the second Pitt had ever exercised. Conscious of the immense talents working within him, quick-sighted as well as far-sighted, a keen judge of character and of the weakness of an enemy’s position, with the mordant wit of a Parisian, with all the resources of a complete master of language, and with that exquisite tact which instinctively knows how to make the most of a victory and the least of a defeat, he waited with the patience which is in itself one of the most charac¬ teristic signs of great genius, for the moment when his opportunity should come, and the tide, taken at the flood, should bear him on to fortune. In the feverish, harassing struggle of party politics he was always so cool and collected that those who knew not the man said he was indifferent to the conflict around him ; whilst the real truth was that his well-balanced judg¬ ment was superior to those passions of 1 2 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD the hour which always affect and irritate the shallow and superficial, but leave calm and unruffled the depths of the really great mind. He ran a waiting race; never exhausting himself by futile efforts which might distress and retard him, but keeping his powers well within their grasp, steadily, almost imperceptibly, he drew away from his competitors, until at the supreme moment when called upon by genius, he put forth all his strength and reached the goal a winner, so decided and complete as to leave his victory an event without parallel in the annals of parliamen¬ tary triumphs. Criticising Lord Beacons- field’s career from its beginning to its close, we may say that never did ambition seem more hopeless, never was its realization more complete. In any other profession save that of politics, the success attained by the late Lord Beaconsfield would not have been so singularly remarkable. Men from the most humble surroundings have risen to the serene heights of the bench, have worn the lawn sleeves of the episcopate, have wielded the baton of the field-marshal, have been created peers for famous achieve¬ ments. The great prizes of the bar, the church, the queen’s services are open to all; and though certain social advantages have, in the different professions, their full value, yet such advantages at the best but give the candidate a good start, and by no means promise him a success positive and assured. Talent, industry, and sound knowledge seldom fail to meet with their deserts in a professional career, whilst factitious combinations only occa¬ sionally prosper. With parliamentary life it is very different. To become the head of a great party, to command an obedient and united following, to dominate over the jeal¬ ousies and spontaneous antipathies of the House of Commons, to be supreme in the council chamber, and to enjoy the confidence both of your sovereign and your country, something more than great abilities have generally been necessary. A lofty name, a splendid rent-roll, the gifts which captivate what is termed society, have usually been the privileges which surrounded him who held the seals as prime minister. If we look down the list of our English premiers—from Sir Robert Walpole, who was the first to found the office, to its present holder—we shall find that the position and power en¬ joyed by Lord Beaconsfield are unique. There have been men whom party jealousies have placed at the head of cabinets, and who—mere puppets—were content to act as rival candidates chose to pull the strings; there have been men who have undertaken to form a ministry, simply and solely on ac¬ count of their illustrious lineage and vast possessions; there have been men raised to supreme power, not because they pos¬ sessed the confidence of either house of parliament, or because they were beloved by the country, but only because they were the cherished favourites of the sovereign; and again, there have been men who, from com¬ paratively lowly origin, have attained to the position of chief of the cabinet. Yet in none of these instances is there a parallel to the case of Lord Beaconsfield. Walpole main¬ tained his power by judicious distribution of the guineas of the treasury; Newcastle was a simpleton whose dukedom, wealth, and votes in the lower house compensated for his incapacity, and kept him in office; Bute was the pet of the court, and the hated of the people; Addington, Portland, and Per¬ ceval were political mediocrities who owed their elevation to the jealousies of the hour. Canning, sneered at as an adventurer, found when he had been appointed to form an administration, that a proud aristocracy de¬ clined to obey him. In the political history of Lord Beaconsfield we find, it is true, some of the elements which assisted or hampered his predecessors, but nothing in them suffi¬ ciently marked and cohesive as to form a parallel to his exceptional career. In the tactics of parliamentary strategy he was as consummate a master as either Sir Robert Walpole or Sir Robert Peel. Though not unpopular with the people, he cannot be AND HIS TIMES. 3 said to have been, in the fullest acceptation of the word, popular; yet Bute never enjoyed a more cordial and decided support from the court. At no time, however necessary his name might have become to his party, would he have consented—as Portland and Perceval had consented—to have been the chief of a cabinet in which he was not per¬ mitted to be dominant and absolute. “When Lord Beaconsfield speaks,” said Prince Bis¬ marck, referring to the distinguished envoy to the Berlin congress, “he does not speak as one of the members of an English cabinet, but as the cabinet: he is England.” Like Addington and Canning, the birth of Lord Beaconsfield was not in the minds of the vulgar beyond reproach; yet unlike in their case, the haughtiest aristocracy and the pink of the most prejudiced gentry in Europe gladly enrolled themselves under his banner, and carried out his be¬ hests. What, then, we may ask, were the gifts and fascinations with which this ex¬ traordinary man was endowed, that he should have succeeded where so brilliant a man as Canning had failed; that he should have en¬ joyed a reputation on the continent such as Lord Palmerston in his most spirited mo¬ ments never held; that, sprung from a stock the be-fouled and persecuted of centuries, he should have been the chief favourite in the most exclusive coteries of society, and that he exercised a command over his fol¬ lowing which was never disputed except to be instantly repented of ? In the following biography we hope to answer these queries. Benjamin Disraeli was born, it is said, * The precise year of his birth is uncertain, some giving it as 1805, and others as 1806; but the general impression appears to be that he was born in 1804. In the inscription upon his coffin the date of his birth was omitted, owing to the inability of the executors to discover any authentic record on the point. On the page of the register in the Registry December 24, 1804,* and, as is well known from the publicity he gave to the fact, and the pride he took in his descent, was sprung from Jewish parents. In the interesting introduction to the works of his father he gives us a sketch of his family history, which will well repay perusal. “My grand¬ father,” he writes, “ who became an English denizen in 1748, was an Italian descendant from one of those Hebrew families whom the Inquisition forced to emigrate from the Spanish peninsula at the end of the fif¬ teenth century, and who found a refuge in the more tolerant territories of the Venetian republic. His ancestors had dropped their Gothic surname on their settlement in the Terra Eirma; and grateful to the God of Jacob who had sustained them through unprecedented trials, and guarded them through unheard-of perils, they assumed the name of * Disraeli/ a name never borne before or since by any other family, in order that their race might be for ever recognized. Undisturbed and unmolested, they flourished as merchants for more than two centuries under the protection of the lion of St. Mark, which was but just, as the patron saint of the republic was himself a child of Israel. But towards the middle of the eighteenth century the altered circum¬ stances of England, favourable, as it was then supposed, to commerce and religious liberty, attracted the attention of my great¬ grandfather to this island, and he resolved that the youngest of his two sons, Benjamin, the ‘ son of his right hand,’ should settle in a country where the dynasty seemed at length established, through the recent Office in East Chapel Street, Mayfair, the name of Lord Beaconsfield is entered as ‘aged 76,’ which makes the year of his birth 1805; but, on the other hand, the following entry from the register of the synagogue in Bevis Marks is too important to be ignored:— Child's Name. Father’s Name. Mother’s Name. Surname. Day in Week of Child's Birth. Jewish Date. Christian Era. Circum¬ cised by Attested by Benjamin. Isaac. Maria. D’Israeli. Friday. 19 Tehet, 5565. 21 December, 1804. D. A. Lindo, 26 Tehet, 5565. D. J. De Castro. 4 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD failure of Prince Charles Edward, and where public opinion appeared definitively adverse to persecution on matters of creed and conscience. “ The Jewish families who were then settled in England were few, though, from their wealth and other circumstances, they were far from unimportant. They were all of them Sephardim, that is to say, children of Israel, who had never quitted the shores of the Midland Ocean until Torquemada had driven them from their pleasant resi¬ dences and rich estates in Arragon, and Andalusia, and Portugal, to seek greater blessings, even than a clear atmosphere and a glowing sun, amid the marshes of Holland and the fogs of Britain. Most of these families, who held themselves aloof from the Hebrews of northern Europe, then only occasionally stealing into England, as from an inferior caste, and whose synagogue was reserved only for Sephardim,* are now ex¬ tinct; while the branch of the great family, which, notwithstanding their own sufferings from prejudice, they had the hardihood to look down upon, have achieved an amount of wealth and consideration which the Seph¬ ardim, even with the patronage of Mr. Pelham, never could have contemplated. Nevertheless, at the time when my grand¬ father settled in England, and when Mr. Pelham, who was very favourable to the Jews, was Prime Minister, there might be found, among other Jewish families flour¬ ishing in this country, the Villa Reals, who brought wealth to these shores almost as great as their name, though that is the second in Portugal, and who have twice allied themselves with the English aris¬ tocracy, the Medinas—the Laras, who were our kinsmen—and the Mendez da Costas, who, I believe, still exist. * The Jews are divided into two religious communities— the Ashkenasim or orthodox Jews, and the Sephardim , or Spanish or Portuguese Jews. Both these communities are distinct over the whole world. In the essentials of Judaism they both agree, but in their ritual they slightly differ. In England, since 1841, a third community has been estab¬ lished, called the Reformed Jews, who deny the authority of the Talmud, and acknowledge only one law—the sacred volume of the Scriptures. “Whether it were that my grandfather, on his arrival, was not encouraged by those to whom he had a right to look up,—which is often our hard case in the outset of life,— or whether he was alarmed at the unex¬ pected consequences of Mr. Pelham’s favour¬ able disposition to his countrymen in the disgraceful repeal of the Jew Bill, which occurred a very few years after his arrival in this country, I know not; but certainly he appears never to have cordially or inti¬ mately mixed with his community. This tendency to alienation was, no doubt, sub¬ sequently encouraged by his marriage, which took place in 1765. My grandmother, the beautiful daughter of a family who had suffered much from persecution, had im¬ bibed that dislike for her race which the vain are too apt to adopt when they find that they are born to public contempt. The indignant feeling that should be reserved for the persecutor, in the mortification of their disturbed sensibility, is too often visited on the victim; and the cause of annoyance is recognized not in the ignorant malevolence of the powerful, but in the conscientious conviction of the innocent sufferer. Seventeen years, however, elapsed before my grandfather entered into this union, and during that interval he had not been idle. He was only eighteen when he commenced his career, and when a great responsibility devolved upon him. He was not unequal to it. He was a man of ardent character; sanguine, courageous, specula¬ tive, and fortunate; with a temper which no disappointment could disturb, and a brain, amid reverses, full of resource. He made his fortune in the midway of life, and settled near Enfield, where he formed an Italian garden, entertained his friends, played whist with Sir Horace Mann, who was his great acquaintance, and who had known his brother at Venice as a banker, eat macaroni which was dressed by the Venetian consul, sang canzonettas, and not¬ withstanding a wife who never pardoned him for his name, and a son who disap¬ pointed all his plans, and who to the last AND HIS TIMES. 5 hour of his life was an enigma to him, lived till lie was nearly ninety, and then died in 1817, in the full enjoyment of prolonged existence.” This son “ who disappointed all his plans” was Isaac Disraeli, the author of “ Curiosities of Literature ” and other works enjoying a considerable reputation in their day, but which they have since been unable to sustain. He appears, from the account furnished us by his son, to have been a somewhat moody recluse, with all the ab¬ sent and unpractical habits of the typical man of letters. “ He was,” writes Mr. Disraeli,. “ a complete literary character, a man who really passed his life in his library. Even marriage produced no change in these habits; he rose to enter the chamber where he lived alone with his books, and at night his lamp was ever lit within the same walls. Nothing, indeed, was more remarkable than the isolation of this prolonged existence; and it could only be accounted for by the united influence of three causes: his birth, which brought him no relations or family acquaintance, the bent of his disposition, and the circumstance of his inheriting an independent fortune, which rendered un¬ necessary those exertions that would have broken up his self-reliance. He disliked business, and he never required relaxation; he was absorbed in his pursuits. In Lon¬ don his only amusement was to ramble among bookseller's; if he entered a club, it was only to go into the library. In the country, he scarcely ever left his room but to saunter in abstraction upon a terrace, muse over a chapter, or coin a sentence. He had not a single passion or prejudice: all his convictions were the result of his own studies, and were often opposed to the impressions which he had early imbibed. He not only never entered into the politics of the day, but he could never understand them. He never was connected with any particular body or set of men, comrades of school or college, or confederates in that public life which, in England, is, perhaps, the only foundation of real friendship. In the consideration of a question, his mind was quite undisturbed by traditionary pre¬ conceptions ; and it was this exemption from passion and prejudice which, although his intelligence was naturally somewhat too ingenious and fanciful for the conduct of close argument, enabled him, in investiga¬ tion, often to show many of the highest attributes of the judicial mind, and par¬ ticularly to sum up evidence with singular happiness and ability.” Early in the year 1802 Isaac Disraeli married a Miss Basevi, the sister of George Basevi, the celebrated Jewish architect who designed, amongst other erections, the Eitz- william Museum at Cambridge, and the Conservative Club in St. James’ Street. Many distinguished men have been in¬ debted in no small measure for the fame they obtained in after life to the judicious and sympathetic supervision of a mother of a superior mental calibre; but Mrs. Disraeli, it would appear, was an ordinary, com¬ mon-place woman, whose character does not call for any particular comment. Her son, who talks much of the “philosophic sweetness ” of the disposition of his father, of his “ singular volubility,” his amiability, his personal appearance, and the charms of his conversation, scarcely alludes to the name of his mother, which, we think, would not have been the case (since it was characteris¬ tic of the man not to be reticent concerning his affection to those to whom he was attached) had she exercised any great in¬ fluence upon his career. Of this marriage four children were the result. Sarah, the only daughter, was born December 6, 1802; Benjamin, the late earl of Beaconsfield, as we have said, December 21, 1804; Balph, in 1809; and James, in 1813. Modern Judaism, lacking its sacred Temple, and consequently deprived of the very vitality of its religion—the sacrificial system—is fast losing its distinctive characteristics; it is gradually developing into a deism, differing only from pure deism inasmuch as it is warped and coloured by the prejudices of race. The modern Jew, cultivated and un- 6 THE EAKL OF BEACONSFIELD restricted, chooses the profession he thinks most suited to his abilities, rises rapidly in it, and mixes freely, if it will permit him, with the society of the country of his adoption. The precepts of the Talmud and the lore of the rabbis sit lightly upon him, and save when, owing to the result of hereditary influences, he ob¬ serves in all its strictness the solemn day of atonement, he seldom enters his synagogue. He lives very much as those who are of a different faith around him; the particular precepts, which enjoin him to eschew certain articles of food, and the dishes prepared by those not of his own race, are far more honoured in the breach than in the observ¬ ance ; if his affections are engaged, and such union is calculated to advance his social interests, he marries a dame who worships the hated Christ of his ancestors; he changes his name if the patronymic be gratingly Hebraic; and if nature had not stamped them indelibly upon the physiog¬ nomy of his race, he would have no objec¬ tion to change his features. Were it not for the peculiar cast of countenance which proclaims his nationality, one would not, from the circumstances of his life, the ten¬ dencies of his opinions, or the maintenance of his establishment, look upon him as being in any way different from his neighbours. Modern Judaism is now but a mechanical creed, and, since its animating spirit is extinct, it cannot be expected to possess much influence upon its followers. It has lost much, and is daily losing more, of its hold upon its people. To its ethnological character, and not to its religious, Judaism owes its continued existence. Isaac Disraeli, a man of culture and re¬ search, was a Jew only in name. The legends of the Talmud, the absurd cere¬ monies commanded by the synagogue on certain special occasions, and the restric¬ tions as to diet, ablutions, and service imposed upon a nation no longer secluded and excluded, were eminently distasteful to his intelligence and to the philosophical liberality of his sentiments. He gradually alienated himself from those of his own faith. “ It is evident,” he wrote, as an ex¬ cuse for severing himself from the religious services of his people, “to all men but Hebrews, who still cling to the ignorant pride of a semi-civilized race, that a con¬ siderable portion of the Mosaic code could not be designed for perpetuity, but was ac¬ commodated to immediate purposes. Many laws, therefore, have fallen extinct with their objects. The motives which induced Moses to forbid the eating of pork, of shell¬ fish, and other aliments, no longer prevail in another climate, and among a race who are not idolaters. Ordinances relating to the seven Canaanitish nations could only be absolute while those hordes existed. Customs of the East, prescribed as religious rites—frequent ablutions, and living in bowery tabernacles in the chill of autumn —would not have been commanded in the cold or even in the temperate zones. The laws are not perpetual which relate to certain contagious maladies which have disappeared, while other prevalent diseases have arisen, for which Moses could provide no laws. Would the Hebrew at this day inflict punishments peculiar to the East be¬ cause they are decreed by the Mosaic code ? The whole constitution of Israel has passed away; the sacrifice and the sacrificer have vanished; the altar sunk with the throne. A conquered people ridiculously exist, as if they were in a state independent, amidst the miseries and degradations of twenty cen¬ turies.” Maintaining these views, it was in¬ evitable that disputes should arise between Isaac Disraeli and the leading members of his faith. As a man of distinction among his set, he was elected to fill the post of warden of the Bevis Marks synagogue; he declined the honour in, it must be admitted, a singu¬ larly offensive and irritating letter; he was fined, and he refused to pay the fine; then to complete the separation he wrote that he was “under the painful necessity” of taking his name off the list of contributing members to the synagogue. Meanwhile, he had so far conformed to the discipline of his church as AND HIS TIMES. 7 to allow his children to undergo that pecu¬ liar operation, which is, not to jar upon ears polite, called the “ initiatory Abra- hamic rite.”* From recent investigations made by the curious, we learn that Benjamin Disraeli was circumcised by one Daniel Abar- banel Lindo, a connection of the family, and a Portuguese merchant of high standing. Shortly after resigning his member¬ ship as one of the congregation of Bevis Marks synagogue, Isaac Disraeli, at the in¬ stigation, it is alleged, of Samuel Bogers, the poet, gave his consent to his son Benjamin being admitted into the Christian church. The following entry can be seen on the bap¬ tismal register of St. Andrew’s, Holborn:— “ Entry of Baptism, S? Andrew’s, Holborn. July 31, 1817 —Benjamin, s d to be about twelve years old, son of Isaac and Maria D’lsraeli (former described as gentleman), residing at King’s R d — Officiating clergyman, Rev. J. Thimbleby.” The author of the “Curiosities of Litera¬ ture” was at that time living in King’s Road, Bedford Row, in order to be near the library of the British Museum, which he then con¬ stantly frequented for the better prosecution of the literary pursuits in which he was en¬ gaged. On the death of his father, Isaac Disraeli succeeded to a comfortable fortune, and, being now in good circumstances, re¬ moved to a house in the then not unfashion¬ able quarter of Bloomsbury Square. Here he remained during the years 1817-25, when he became the proprietor of a small country seat in Buckinghamshire, “the county of statesmen ”*(• — the Bradenham House so familiar to all who have read the early pam- * The second of the 613 Precepts which all Jewish children, between six and seven years of age, have to commit to memory, as a thorough knowledge of these is considered to be a key to the Oral Law, commands all Hebrews “ To cir¬ cumcise male children on the eighth day after their birth; for it is written, ‘ This is my covenant which ye shall keep be¬ tween me and you, and thy seed after thee; every man child among you shall be circumcised .”’—Genesis xvii. 10. f “ The county of Buckinghamshire has supplied this house with a series of statesmen than whom no body of men have more contributed to create the empire, sustain the renown, and cherish the high spirit of the English people. You may smile, remembering only the uninfluential person who now addresses you; but I was thinking of those days when the county of Buckingham gave to the House of Commons Mr. Hampden and the Grenvilles, the elder Pitt and Mr. Burke.” —Speech of Mr. Disraeli on National Representation , June 20, 1848. phlets and election addressesot “Disraeli the younger.” He died January 19,1848, after attaining to the ripe old age of eighty-two. On a little hill near Hughenden Manor a column has been erected to his memory, which bears this inscription:— “ In memory of Isaac Disraeli, of Bradenham House, in this county, Esquire, and Honorary D.C.L. of the University of Oxford, who, by his happy genius, diffused amongst the multitude that elevating taste for literature which, before his time, was the privilege only of the learned. This monument was erected by Mary Anne, the wife of his eldest son, the Right Honourable B. Dis¬ raeli, Chancellor of the Exchequer, 1852, 1858-9, Lord of this Manor, and now for the sixth time Knight of this Shire.” We have entered into some detail with regard to the parentage of the illustrious statesman who is the subject of this political biography, because we have always consid¬ ered that to the peculiar circumstances of his birth much of the strength and a little of those weaknesses conspicuous in his character and career can be traced. The mental constitution of Benjamin Disraeli was in all its characteristics essentially Hebraic, and only on those few occasions when his acts and aspirations had been tempered and repressed by the influences of a polished Western civilization, did it partake of the English nature. He had that intense individuality peculiar to the Hebrews, which made every question he took up especially his own, and of setting it—witness his teaching as to the Venetian constitution and parliamentary reform— in an entirely new light. He held that the progress of human affairs was almost exclusively influenced by the characters of individual men, and little by the operation of those general laws in which the author of the “History of Civilization” was so firm a believer. “ Everywhere,” he writes in “ Coningsby,” “ you see the influence of the individual. God made man in His own image; but the public is made by newspapers, members of parliament, excise officers, poor law guardians. Would Philip have succeeded if Epaminondas had not 8 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD been slain? And if Philip had not suc¬ ceeded? Would Prussia have existed had Frederick not been born? And if Frederick had not been born? What would have been the fate of the Stuarts if Prince Henry had not died, and Charles I., as was intended, had been Archbishop of Canterbury? 5 ’ In this teaching we plainly see the influence of his Hebrew origin. At no time had the various forms of unbelief, now so fashionable in intellectual quarters, any attractions for him: he was always, as he frankly admitted, “ on the side of the angels.” He never doubted the reality of the Jewish theocracy; he was a firm be¬ liever in the divinity of the dispensation which succeeded it. The most bigoted Jew could not have been more impressed with the conviction that “ the world had from time to time been under the immediate and direct government of the Supreme Being, holding personal communication with His earthly representatives, and investing them with power to control the march of events and to mould the destinies of mankind.” Like the prophets of old he believed he was under the especial protection of the Most High, and that it was his mission to regene¬ rate the condition of his country. With the intense egotism and self-reliance of the Hebrew, he believed in himself and in the superiority of the race from which he was sprung. Unlike many men of his own nationality, who, when they have attained to fame, carefully shun all allusions to their origin, Benjamin Disraeli gave every pro¬ minence to the fact. It was his belief in his race that made him believe in himself; it was because he could lay claims to a descent which made the pedigree of the proudest Norman baron but a creation of yesterday, that rendered him superior to all feelings of social inferiority, and caused him to regard his position as the political leader of the English gentry as one which he was fully entitled to hold. He who led an exclusive order must himself belong to an exclusive order. A man who was of the same family to which it had pleased the Son of God, in His infinite condescension, to attach Him¬ self, had no reason to be ashamed of his birth, or to yield precedence to the haugh¬ tiest English peer.* The Jews only,- according to Benjamin Disraeli, can mark out a lineage which, in its original history, is without a parallel. Speaking through the fictitious Sidonia (supposed to be a portrait of himself, and the expounder of his own views) in his novel of “ Coningsby,” he thus eloquently discourses upon his fa¬ vourite topic:—“Sidonia was well aware that in the five great varieties into which physi¬ ology has divided the human species—to wit, the Caucasian, the Mongolian, the Malayan, the American, the Ethiopian—the Arabian tribes rank in the first and superior class, together, among others, with the Saxon and the Greek. This fact alone is a source of great pride and satisfaction to the animal Man. But Sidonia and his brethren could claim a distinction which the Saxon and the Greek, and the rest of the Caucasian nations, have forfeited. The Hebrew is an unmixed race. Doubtless, among the tribes who inhabit the bosom of the Desert, pro¬ genitors alike of the Mosaic and the Mohammedan Arabs, blood may be. found as pure as that of the descendants of the Scheik Abraham. But the Mosaic Arabs are the most ancient, if not the only, un¬ mixed blood that dwells in cities. “An * It was surely from no feeling of false shame as to his name and origin that prompted him to insert the following clause in his will. He had no desire, like many a modern Jew, who hopes by calling himself Howard, or Cholmondeley, or Buckingham de Bohun, to hide his nationality, that the name of Disraeli should be lost in that of Beaconsfield:— “Provided always, and I hereby expressly declare it as my wish, although I abstain from attaching any penalty to the non-performance of this direction, that every person who under this my will shall become entitled as tenant for life or as tenant in tail male to the actual possession, or to the receipt of the rents and profits of the said premises (the manor of Hughenden) hereinbefore devised in strict settle¬ ment, and who shall not then use and bear the surname ol Disraeli, shall within one year after he or she shall become so entitled; and also that every person whom any woman so becoming entitled shall marry, shall within one year aftei such woman shall so become entitled or shall marry, which¬ ever of such events shall last happen (unless in the said respective cases any such person shall be prevented by death), take upon himself or herself, and use in all deeds and writings which he or she shall sign, and upon occa¬ sions the surname of Disraeli only , and not together with his or her own family surname .” AND HIS TIMES. 9 unmixed race of a first-rate organization are the aristocracy of Nature. Such excellence is a positive fact; not an imagination, a cere¬ mony, coined by poets, blazoned by cozen¬ ing heralds, but perceptible in its physical advantages, and in the vigour of its unsullied idiosyncrasy. In his comprehensive travels, Sidoniahad visited and examined the Hebrew communities of the world. He had found, in general, the lower orders debased, the superior immersed in sordid pursuits; but he perceived that the intellectual develop¬ ment was not impaired. This gave him hope. He was persuaded that organization would outlive persecution. When he re¬ flected on what they had endured, it was only marvellous that the race had not disappeared. They had defied exile, mas¬ sacre, spoliation, the degrading influence of the constant pursuit of gain; they had defied Time. For nearly 3000 years, ac¬ cording to Archbishop Usher, they have been dispersed over the globe. To the unpolluted current of their Caucasian structure, and to the segregating genius of their great Lawgiver, Sidonia ascribed the fact that they had not been long ago ab¬ sorbed among those mixed races, who pre¬ sume to persecute them, but who periodically wear away and disappear, while their victims still flourish in all the primeval vigour of the pure Asian breed.” We can remember the wit and humour with which this theory of the “ Asian mys¬ tery” was received. Yet the laugh has not been exactly on our side. The apostle has proved the truth of his own teaching in his own person by a success which has never before fallen to the lot of a statesman in this country, whilst his theory is on all sides being most fully exemplified. Everywhere the Jew faces his fellow man, and he not only works his way to the front, but often stands a full head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. Admitted, as it were, but yesterday to the bar, he is in the first rank as counsel: second to none in eloquence, in the lore of jurisprudence, and in the skill of the consummate advocate. The realms of VOL. i. finance have always been his especial do¬ minion ; but never has he occupied so power¬ ful a position as at the present day. He holds empires in pawn, and, by a wish to realize his possessions, could reduce half a continent to bankruptcy. His civil disabilities re¬ moved, he becomes a legislator distinguished by his ready gift of debate, or a magistrate conspicuous for his tact and common sense. Music and song and the drama have been so eminently the monopoly of the Hebrew race, that no one is surprised at a great composer or a great actress or a prima donna of European celebrity being of Jewish descent. In art, in science, in literature, the despised Hebrew is again among the most gifted in his profession. Whatever department is open to him, his success in it is so remark¬ able as to make him one of the conspicuous. When the field of his intellect was limited to medicine and finance, he rose till he could rise no higher; and now that the world closes none of its avenues at his approach, the talents which made him attain distinction, when under persecution, render the career he selects in this age of his toleration seldom a failure. Nor is the Hebrew race deficient in other qualities which are prominently brought out in the career of the late Earl of Beaconsfield. From the earliest times the diplomacy of statesmanship has been the favourite exer¬ cise of the cultivated Jew. Facts fully sup¬ port this assertion. The counsellor to the Saracen king of Granada was Samuel Levi, a Jewish rabbi. The prime minister of Alphonso VIII. was one named Joseph, a Jew. The ambassador from Charlemagne to Haroun Alraschid was Isaac, a Jew. The chief minister of Louis le D^bonnaire was Zedekiah, a Jew. Don Isaac Abarbanel and Manasseh Ben Israel, world-wide politicians in their day, were also Jews. Again, glanc¬ ing at the statesmen of modern times—at Mendizabel and Castelar in Spain; at Cre- mieux, Simon, Fould, and Gambetta in France; at Assur in Holland; at Daniel Manin and Artom in Italy; at Jacoby and others in Germany—we find them all men 2 10 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD of Hebrew lineage. It is not, therefore, sur¬ prising that, with these examples confront¬ ing him, the study of politics should have exercised a powerful fascination over the mind of Benjamin Disraeli. He had all the gifts—many of them in a marked degree, the characteristic of the Hebrew mind— calculated to lead a man on to success in parliamentary life. He was original, and stamped his originality upon all that he did, and in the end his views, no matter the opposition they had at first encountered, were generally accepted. When he entered parliament, he attached himself to neither party; he never had any sympathy with Whiggism; he did not represent Tory traditions as they were then understood; he was never a Radical nor a Peelite. He was throughout his career essentially him¬ self ; he made his own party, he made his own position, and he restored and reani¬ mated an extinct creed. He saw instinc¬ tively the course the Tory party should adopt if it ever wished to regain its old ascendancy in the country; and he watched and waited; then taught and brought into unity a scattered following, until the end he set before him had been attained, and the doctrines he advanced had been fully re¬ ceived. Like his favourite hero, Boling- broke, he settled the confused and discordant materials of English faction, and reduced them into a clear and systematic order. “ There are few positions less inspiriting than that of the leader of a discomfited party/’ writes Mr. Disraeli, after praising the dignified conduct of Lord John Russell at a time when the Whigs were in a forlorn minority. “ The labours and anxieties of a minister or of his rival on the contested threshold of office may be alleviated by the exercise or sustained by the anticipation of power; both are surrounded by eager, anxious, excited, perhaps enthusiastic ad¬ herents. There is sympathy, appreciation, prompt counsel, profuse assistance. But he who in the parliamentary field watches over the fortunes of routed troops, must be prepared to sit often alone. Few care to share the labour which is doomed to be fruitless, and none are eager to diminish the responsibility of him whose course, however adroit, must necessarily be in¬ effectual. Nor can a man of sensibility in such a post easily obviate these discourage¬ ments. It is ungracious to appeal to the grey-headed to toil for a harvest which they may probably never reap, and scarcely less painful to call upon glittering youth to sac¬ rifice its rosy hours for a result as remote as the experience in which it does not believe. Adversity is necessarily not a sanguine season, and in this respect a poli¬ tical party is no exception to all other human combinations. In doors and out of doors a disheartened opposition will be querulous and captious. A discouraged multitude have no future; too depressed to indulge in a large and often hopeful horizon of contemplation, they busy themselves in peevish detail, and by a natural train of sentiment associate their own conviction of ill-luck, incapacity, and failure, with the most responsible member of their con¬ federation : while all this time inexorable duty demands, or rather that honour which is the soul of public life, that he should be as vigilant, as laborious, should exercise as complete a control over his intelligence and temper, should be as prompt to represent their principles in debate, and as patient and as easy of access in private conference, should be as active and as thoughtful, as if he were sustained by all that encourages exertion—the approbation of the good and the applause of the wise.” When the writer penned these lines, can we doubt but that he was drawing upon his own reminiscences when he was himself the head of a discomfited and disorganized party, and essaying all his arts to cheer it on to union and to victory ? And throughout that terrible uphill struggle, how Hebraic were his tenacity of perseverance, his single¬ ness of purpose, his apparent insensibility to the most malignant opposition, his splendid patience, his Heine-like wit which seldom shot its barbed arrows with- AND HIS TIMES. 11 out effect, his discipline, his dexterity, his strategy, and the power which dominates over all prejudices, and not only makes itself felt but makes itself indispensable! Against the apparently insurmountable obstacles which Mr. Disraeli during the earlier years of his parliamentary career had to encounter, the English genius—cold yet impatient, brave yet sensitive, fearing ridicule, with no eye for the unravelling of complications, lacking the instincts of generalship, easily wounded, easily de¬ pressed—would have retired a hundred times in despair, and have abandoned the conflict. It wanted the man full of self- reliance, blunted to external reproaches by the consciousness of intellectual superiority, accustomed to difficulties and opposition as the scion of a persecuted house, with the here¬ ditary tact and disciplined self-control born of oppression long patiently endured; it wanted the diplomatic instincts, the clear, hard judgment never intoxicated by victory, never confused by defeat; it wanted, in fine, the man of infinite resources, and these were found in ample measure in Ben¬ jamin Disraeli, the Hebrew. It is but a poor set off against these brilliant Oriental gifts, to twit their possessor for those little weak¬ nesses which were as much the consequence of his Jewish descent as were the vitality of his intellect and the tenacity of his purpose—his avowed love for pomp and splendour, his thirsting after the marvel¬ lous, his Chatham-like taste for theatrical effect, his somewhat ignoble appreciation of the refinements of civilization, his “Hounds- ditch dreams ” of lofty rank, costly finery, blazing jewels, and the gorgeous generally. Whatever were his faults, he stands out against the canvas of history as one of the most brilliant individualities that has ever impassioned political warfare, and led and controlled the government of a country. Of the earlier years of Benjamin Disraeli little is known, and since even the slight information we possess does not bear upon his political conduct, we shall content our¬ selves with but briefly alluding to the events that occurred during the interval between his birth and his first appearance in the House of Commons. It may gratify the malevolence of the divine disappointed in not obtaining the preferment he expected, of the suppliant gentleman of the press whose “claims on the party” have been ignored, of the mercenaries of the “vaga¬ bond population ” of the Lower House et hoc genus omne , to vent their spite upon the eminent statesman who has lately passed from us, by distorting facts and manipulat¬ ing statements so as to render the object of their hate—a hate the keener since it failed to wound—ridiculous and contemptible; but good taste, if no warmer feeling, bids us remember the kindly remark of Archbishop Tillotson, “ If we can say no good of a man let us be silent, unless it becomes absolutely necessary for us to speak the evil.” In deal¬ ing with the political conduct of a public man we have no concern here with private matters. We know that Mr. Disraeli was not sent to a public school, and that he was not entered at either of our universities ; he is, however, not the only English states¬ man who has been bereft of these early advantages. In the hot days of youth he no doubt led the ordinary life of the gallant, whose passions are stronger than his prin¬ ciples ; let malice make the most of it; also let him who is without sin cast the first stone. He contracted a few debts, and the fact has been diligently raked up, and spitefully commented upon. Is he the only youthful politician w r ho has been dunned ? Were Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, Mirabeau, always solvent ? Still, about this early period of his history much exaggeration has been in¬ dulged in. When Lord Eldon, who was the son of a coal agent, was first promoted to the serene heights of the woolsack, his enemies loved to allude to him as the off¬ spring of a coal heaver; he being no more the son of a coal heaver than is the son of a brewer the son of a publican. In the same malignant fashion the enemies of Benjamin Disraeli have loved to draw 12 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD attention to the various disadvantages under which he, at the commencement of his political career, is alleged to have so painfully laboured. As a plain matter of fact he was far from having been severely handicapped in an ordinary race for honour and promotion. He was not the first man of Jewish origin who had obtained a seat in the House of Commons, and therefore the fact of his being of alien birth, and of having once been attached to an alien creed, was not in itself an obstacle that others before him had not surmounted. Had he not, to his honour be it said, brought his birth so prominently forward on every occasion ; had he attached himself to the Radical party; had he prided himself upon being sprung from the people; had he become the chief even of a Radical cabinet—if he had done these things, it is probable that his Hebrew descent would scarcely have drawn forth a sneer, though his career, eminently distinguished of course as it would have been, would yet have been deprived of those features which ren¬ dered it so unique and so brilliant. Thiers the son of the locksmith, Gambetta the son of the clothier, Abraham Lincoln the labouring man, have all sprung from a lower social level than Mr. Disraeli, yet malice has been fairly silent as to their humble origin; for it is a graceful compli¬ ment to the order of things that under a republican form of government a son of the people should aspire after, and should attain to, its highest post. It' is not a matter for supreme surprise that Mr. Disraeli should have become a prominent member of parliament, or should have developed into a prime minister; but it is a marvellous tribute to his genius that he, of foreign blood and once an acreless man, should have been the accepted and the absolute leader of the English gentry and the English aristocracy. The Napoleons, charmed they never so wisely, were power¬ less to gain over the Faubourg St. Germain. Much, too, has been said bv the enemies of Mr. Disraeli of the social slights and pecuniary distresses which were his lot at the outset of his career. Here, again, malice has usurped the place of truth. Mr. Isaac Disraeli was a well-known man of letters, in the enjoyment of excellent private means, moving in the best society, and acquainted with most of the celebrities of his day. His son, at a time when many young men were busy working for their degrees at the uni¬ versities, was one of the most conspicuous dandies of the day, and the pet of several dames of the highest fashion. His name was constantly to be met with in the as¬ semblies of the great; and the “ intelligent foreigner ” who visited our shores regarded him as so much of a personage as to describe with no little elaboration both his appear¬ ance and conversation. Had Mr. Disraeli come upon the London world some thirty years before he did, he was just the man for the second Pitt to have taken by the hand and to have ushered him, through the con¬ venient system of a nomination borough, into the House of Commons. So much for his having been a “pariah,” a “pauper,” a “ needy adventurer,” a miserable snob, who “drew pictures, from his imagination and not from his experience,” of a society into which he had never entered! Nor was he ever “ a copying clerk ” in a lawyer’s office. At an early age he had been articled—as many a young man of good birth is at the present day articled—to a respectable firm of solicitors; but finding the law not to his taste, he soon quitted legal practices for the calling for which he felt himself more especially suited. * We are told that men in whom the * A correspondent writes to the Tunes, April 29, 1881 : —“ I have just ferreted out the only official record of the entry of Mr. Disraeli into public life, and it may be a fitting pendant to the account of his quitting it. It is his ‘appren¬ ticeship indenture’ (recorded No. 2,953 of the old King’s Bench of 1821) in the usual manner, with an affidavit of the execution. The date is the 10th of November, 1821, between Isaac D’lsraeli, Esquire, of Bloomsbury Square, Benjamin D’lsraeli, his son, and William Stevens, solicitor, of Frederick Place (Swain, Stevens, & Co.) whereby the son was placed for five years as clerk to learn, &c., in the usual form, to become an attorney of the Court of King’s Bench and a soli¬ citor of the Court of Chancery.’ The deed was executed by all three parties, verified by the usual affidavit, filed on the 13th of November, and enrolled ” AND HIS TIMES. 13 workings of genius are strong, predict the future they are one day to command. The child we know is father of the man, and the subjects which gravely interest his youth often compel him on to that after study which secures fame for his ripening years. Tt is said that Petrarch, when a boy, was ever beating a retreat to silent haunts in order to scribble sonnets to certain of his gentler playmates. The early days of Sir Joshua Reynolds were spent, much to his father’s disapproval, in sketching the faces of the different visitors who called at the house. Bacon, when scarcely out of the nursery, was so noted for thoughtful obser¬ vation, that Queen Elizabeth nicknamed him “the young Lord Keeper.” Some of the finest passages of Racine were composed when the future poet was but a pupil at Port Royal. Milton has sung to us in memorable verse what were his aspirations as a lad:— When I was yet a child, no childish play To me was pleasing: all my mind was set Serious to learn and know, and thence to do What might be public good; myself I thought Born to that end, born to promote all truth, All righteous things. Similar indications of decided predilec¬ tion young Disraeli was now to exhibit. Literature, e-specially the literature which dealt with political combinations and party intrigues, was his favourite study. “Trained from early childhood by learned men, who did not share the passions and prejudices of our political and social life,” he writes, “I imbibed on some subjects conclusions dif¬ ferent from those which generally prevail, and especially with reference to our own country. How an oligarchy had been sub¬ stituted for a kingdom, and a narrow¬ minded and bigoted fanaticism flourished in the name of religious liberty, were problems long to me insoluble, hut which early interested me. But what most at¬ tracted my musing, even as a hoy, were the elements of our political parties, and the strange mystification by which that which was national in its constitution had become odious, and that which was exclusive was presented as popular.” With brilliant wit, but with the flippancy of audacious youth, he embodied certain of these views in his well-known novel, “Vivian Grey,” which appeared in 1826, and which took the literary, political, and fashionable world by storm. Its humorous gallery of portraits of famous contemporaries, sketched with all the epigram of Parisian wit, its daring individuality, its cynical sentiments, its thinly-veiled details of a scandal-loving age, made it not only the rage of the season, but of several seasons. It ran through numerous editions, and is even now, though its pages refer to a forgotten past, one of the best read of the author’s productions. “ Vivian Grey,” wrote Mr. Disraeli in 1870, “is essentially a puerile work, but it has baffled even the efforts of its creator to suppress it. Its fate has been strange, and not the least remarkable thing is, that forty-four years after its first publication, I must ask the indulgence of the reader for its con¬ tinued and inevitable re-appearance.” It has amused the peculiar malice of Mr. Disraeli’s enemies to carefully collate the most cynical and audacious passages in “ Vivian Grey ” with certain passages in the author’s private and political life, and to prove that the witty, flippant romance is not so much a novel as an autobiography. Those who like to manufacture their premises, and then to jump to their conclusions, may perhaps consider such warped and strained comparisons a profitable study; to us they only appear as another instance of the hatred, malice, and all-uncharitableness which the career of Mr. Disraeli seems to have excited in certain splenetic and dis¬ appointed minds. One quotation we take from the book, which may perhaps illus¬ trate the ambition and promptings of its author; at all events, if it has no bearing upon his future career, the illustration is not impertinent. “ It was one of the first principles of Mr. Vivian Grey,” we read, “ that everything was possible. Men did fail in life, to be sure, and, after all, 14 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD very little was done by the generality; but still all these failures, and all this inefficiency, might be traced to a want of physical and mental courage. Now Vivian Grey was conscious that there was at least one person in the world who was no craven either in body or mind, and so had long come to the comfortable con¬ clusion that it was impossible that his career could be anything but the most brilliant.” The popularity of the novel naturally led its author to other literary enterprises. In quick succession there proceeded from his pen “The Voyage of Captain Popanilla,” a satire on society and politics, written in imitation of Swift, and full of humour and biting sarcasm; “The Young Duke,” the feeblest of his romances, and which provoked his father to cry out when told of the book, “Dukes, sir! what does my son know about dukes ? he never saw one in his life! ” “Alroy,” a tale of the twelfth century; and “Contarini Fleming,” a physiological romance purporting to be a study of the development and formation of the poetic character. Benjamin Disraeli was now, though six-and-twenty, a well known man of letters, and one of the “ curled darlings ” in the circles presided over by Lady Bles- sington and the handsome dandy, Count D’Orsay. An American traveller, who ill repaid the hospitalities he received, by his offensive comments upon English society, thus describes the young fashion¬ able author:—“Disraeli,” he writes, “has one of the most remarkable faces I ever saw. His eye is black as Erebus, and has the most mocking, lying-in-wait sort of expression conceivable. His mouth is alive with a kind of working and impatient nerv¬ ousness, and when he has burst forth, as he does constantly, with a perfectly successful cataract of expression, it assumes a curl of triumphant scorn that would be worthy a Mephistopheles. A thick mass of jet-black ringlets falls over his left cheek almost to the collarless stock, while on the right temple it is parted and put away with the smooth carefulness of a girl’s. Patent leather pumps, a white stick with black cord and tassel, and a quantity of chains about his neck and pockets, served to make him a conspicuous object.” The biographer of Lady Blessington writes of him in a more complimentary strain. “Many years ago, upwards of twenty,” he says, “ I frequently met Mr. Disraeli in Seamore Place. It needed no ghost from the grave to predi¬ cate even then his success in public life. Though in general society he was usually silent and reserved, he was closely observ¬ ant. It required generally a subject of more than common interest to produce the fitting degree of enthusiasm to stimulate him into the exercise of his marvellous powers of conversation. When duly ex¬ cited, however, his command of language was truly wonderful, his power of sarcasm unsurpassed; the readiness of his wit, the quickness of his perception, the grasp of his mind, that enabled him to seize all the points of any subject under discussion, persons would only call in question who had never been in his company at the period I refer to.” Indeed all who crossed his path at this time predicted for “DTs- raeli the younger,” as he preferred to call himself and to spell his name, a brilliant future. In the earlier part of the year 1829, Ben¬ jamin Disraeli started on an extensive tour of eastern travel, halting for some time in Constantinople, then wandering through Egypt and Syria, and finally making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The reminis¬ cences of this tour are visible, as all readers of his romances are aware, in his tale of “Alroy,” which he published shortly after his return home, and in his later and far more finished novel, “Tancred.” In common with most authors, Mr. Disraeli broke out at one time of his life into verse, and like most authors whose poetry has failed to be appreciated, he considered his poetical effusions as among his highest lite¬ rary efforts. The first portion of the much- derided “Revolutionary Epic” was given to AND HIS TIMES. 15 the world in 1834; though the sequel was not published till 1864, it was, however, begun in 1830. “It was on the plains of Troy,” writes Mr. Disraeli in his preface to his epic, which was henceforth, in his own estimation, to take rank with the “Iliad,” the “iEneid,” the “Divine Comedy,” and “Para¬ dise Lost”—“It was on the plains of Troy that I first conceived the idea of the work. Wan¬ dering over that illustrious scene, surrounded by the tombs of heroes and by the conflu¬ ence of poetic streams, my musing thoughts clustered round the memory of that immor¬ tal song to which all creeds and countries alike respond, which has vanquished chance and defied time. Deeming myself, perhaps too rashly in that excited hour, a poet, I cursed the destiny that had placed me in an age that boasted of being anti-poetical. And while my fancy thus struggled with my reason, it flashed across my mind, like the lightning that was then playing over Ida, that in those great poems which rise, the pyramids of poetic art, amid the falling and fading splendour of less creations, the poet hath ever embodied the spirit of his time. Thus, the most heroic incident of an heroic age produced in the ‘Iliad’ an heroic epick; thus, the consolidation of the most superb of empires produced in the ‘iEneid’ a poeti¬ cal epick; the revival of learning and the birth of vernacular genius presented us in the ‘Divine Comedy’ with a national epick; and the Reformation and its consequences called from the rapt lyre of Milton a religious epick. And the spirit of my time, shall it be uncelebrated? Standing upon Asia and gazing upon Europe, with the broad Helles¬ pont between us, and the shadow of night descending on the mountains, these mighty continents appeared to me, as it were, the rival principles of government that at pre¬ sent contested for the mastery of the world. ‘What!’ I exclaimed, ‘is the revolution of France a less important event than the siege of Troy? Is Napoleon a less interesting character than Achilles? For me remains the Revolutionary Epick.’ ” Our admiration of Mr. Disraeli’s literary merits need not necessarily cloud our judg¬ ment, or render us blind to common sense. It must, therefore, candidly be admitted that the “Revolutionary Epic” is a complete failure: it is turgid, bombastic, and has scarcely a line or thought deserving of the name of poetry. A grievous disappointment was now to turn Benjamin Disraeli’s thoughts towards the arena in which he was for nearly half a century to exercise an influence which will not cease with his death. He had published “ Contarini Fleming ” anonymously, in order to test the appreciative faculty of the public, and it had fallen comparatively dead from the press. “ Having written it with deep thought and feeling,” he said, “ I was naturally discouraged from further effort.” Soured, and in something like a pet, he resolved to abandon literature and betake himself to the profession of politics. How accidental are often the circumstances which decide the whole future of a life, and lead men on to a greatness they might not other¬ wise have achieved! Had Handel followed the study of civil law, as had been his first intention, would music ever have possessed his wondrous oratorios ? Had Smeaton agreed to be articled to an attorney, would he have been handed down to posterity as one of the greatest of engineers? Had the mill, in which Rembrandt was reared, been lighted from the side instead of from the top, would he have become known as the master of that peculiar light and shade which has made his name immortal? Had Rousseau ever taken his seat at his father’s cobbler’s stall, would literature have been enriched by the “Confessions” and “ Emile?” Had Hume been engaged in commerce, as his father desired, would he have become famous as a historian ? Had Turner ac¬ cepted the terms of a barber’s apprentice, would critics now worship him as the Shakspeare of English landscape painters ? And had Benjamin Disraeli not been dis¬ appointed by the temporary failure of his physiological romance, who knows whether he might not have sworn absolute fealty to 16 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD literature, instead of dividing his homage, and thus have passed to his rest unknown to political fame? “ There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.” The hour he had chosen to carry out his new resolve was a momentous one in the fortunes of English politics. The adminis¬ tration of the Duke of Wellington had proved itself incapable of rightly interpret¬ ing the feeling of the country. At its head was the most splendid general of his day, yet who in his civil capacity was singularly short-sighted and opinionative. The Duke of Wellington was not a statesman. The very qualities which had made him a brilliant soldier, the rapidity with which he arrived at his conclusions, the abject obedience he had been in the habit of enforcing, his belief alone in the aristocratic influence— all interfered with the principles of true statecraft, and caused him to maintain views which were almost always adverse to the spirit of progress. Then when pressure was put upon him, he became “open to conviction,” wished “ the thing to be settled one way or another,” and ended by dis¬ covering it to be his duty to abandon what he had upheld, or to pass what he had denounced. “The Duke of Wellington,” writes the author of “ Coningsby ” in one of his frequent acute political reflections scattered throughout the pages of the novel, “ has ever been the votary of circum¬ stances. He cares little for causes. He watches events rather than seeks to produce them. It is a characteristic of the military mind. Rapid combinations, the result of a quick, vigilant, and comprehensive glance, are generally triumphant in the field: but in civil affairs, where results are not im¬ mediate ; in diplomacy and in the manage¬ ment of deliberative assemblies, where there is much intervening time and many counteracting causes, this velocity of de¬ cision, this fitful and precipitate action, are often productive of considerable embarrass¬ ment, and sometimes of terrible discomfiture. It is remarkable that men celebrated for military prudence are often found to be headstrong statesmen. In civil life a great general is frequently and strangely the creature of impulse; influenced in his political movements by the last snatch of information, and often the creature of the last aide-de-camp who has his ear.” The emancipation of the Catholics had not tended, as his Grace had imagined, to strengthen the position of his government. The Papists had been relieved from their disabilities by the cordial co-operation of the Whigs with the duke; but as soon as the measure which had instituted the union passed into law, the alliance between the two parties gradually dissevered itself. The Wellington Cabinet thus stood alone. The emancipation of the Catholics had alienated the Tories; the quarrel between the duke and Mr. Huskisson had alienated the Canningites; whilst the policy of tin« government, in opposing itself to such meas¬ ures as would lead to the mitigation of the commercial and agricultural distress then prevalent, rendered it unpopular with the middle classes. In short, the conduct of the ministry met the usual fate of inconsis¬ tency. “It is a Tory government with a Whig policy,” said the clergy and gentry, mindful of the Emancipation Act, “and no dependence can be placed on it.” “ In spite of its one liberal measure, it is still a high Tory administration,” said the Whig and the manufacturing interest, anxious about parliamentary reform, the repeal of the corn laws, and the extension of the currency, “and it is idle to expect its assistance in our efforts.” And now, whilst affairs were in this condition—the Cabinet weak, but obstinate; the people irritated, yet not aggressive—our fourth George died, and his brother, the sailor king, ascended the throne. As a matter of course, par¬ liament was dissolved, and the Houses summoned to meet in the beginning of November. The elections took place under the influence of an excitement hostile to AND HIS TIMES. 17 the Eldonite Toryism then in vogue. Across the channel, Frenchmen, wearied by the tyranny and incapacity of priestly Bourbonism, had dethroned their tenth Charles, and Louis Philippe reigned in his stead. The sympathy of insurrection spread to other lands. Belgium rose up against the authority of Holland, and created her¬ self into an independent kingdom. In War¬ saw the Poles had broken out into open revolt against the government of the Grand Duke Constantine, and were fighting, with all the patriotism of their race, for freedom from Tartar rule. Brunswick had expelled her duke, and Saxony was agitating for a new constitution. The independence of Greece had been acknowledged by Turkey. Nothing is more infectious than a revolt against despotism, and the efforts of Europe to free herself from the fetters of arbitrary government soon found a ready response in the hearts of the English people. Parlia¬ mentary reform was the cry throughout the country, and its advocates discovered them¬ selves almost everywhere at the head of the poll. To such reform the duke was obstinately opposed. He had publicly de¬ clared that he was “ not only not prepared to bring forward any measure of this nature, but that he would at once assert that so far as he was concerned, so long as he held any station in the government of the country, he should always feel it his duty to resist such measures when proposed by others.” This statement sounded the knell of his overthrow. He, at one time the most popular man in England, was now the hated of the country, of the city, and of the press. He had to face an angry major¬ ity in parliament, and the result was easily foreseen. When the question of the Civil List for the new reign came before the House of Commons, it was moved that the subject be referred to a select committee. The motion was opposed by the govern¬ ment, but carried by a majority of twenty- nine. On the same day a proposition for parliamentary reform was to be brought to a division, and as the ministers expected a VOL. i. defeat, they at once resigned, and Earl Grey, a Whig peer of powerful connections, and who had long been interested in the amend¬ ment of our representative system, was authorized to form a new administration. We know what followed. A reform bill was introduced, which passed the Com¬ mons, but which was rejected by the Lords. Earl Grey went to the palace, and placed two alternatives before the king—the resig¬ nation of the cabinet, or the creation of peers sufficient to form a majority in the upper house. His majesty preferred the resignation of the ministers. The Duke of Wellington was summoned to form a cabi¬ net, and to propose a new reform bill. The country, however, declined to place any confidence in the duke; she was in one of her most feminine moods: she not only wanted her own will, but she would not rest content until she had her own will in her own way. With no uncertain voice she declared that Earl Grey should be re¬ stored to power, and that no reform bill which was not the measure of his cabinet should meet with her approval. The Duke of Wellington, who had failed to obtain the assistance of Sir Robert Peel, retired. Earl Grey again succeeded him; the opposition of the peers was conquered, and the reform bill became law by an immense majority, June 4, 1832. A few weeks before the passing of this measure, Benjamin Disraelt made his first attempt to gain the suffrages of a constitu¬ ency. A vacancy had occurred in the borough of High Wycombe, owing to the withdrawal of one of its Liberal members, Sir Thomas Baring, and the young author put himself forward to contest the seat. Maintaining the views, which he after¬ wards developed—that from the democratic character of the English constitution a politi¬ cal policy, based upon a union between the Tory party, such as it had been established by Wyndham and Bolingbroke, and not as it had degenerated into by the teaching of Eldon and Wellington, and the working classes, was the one most beneficial for the 3 18 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD interests of the country—he issued his ad¬ dress as an independent member. He was supported both by Tories and Reformers, though in the balance the favour of the former preponderated. His political creed on this occasion has been called unintelli¬ gible, yet it was both lucid and simple. He was strongly opposed to the Whigs, because he held that their object was to curtail the power of the crown, and extend the influence of the “governing families;” whilst their supporters, the middle classes, as he never ceased to assert, were both mischievous and incompetent whenever they attempted to direct matters of government. “ This is a middle-class movement,” said Mr. Disraeli in 1848, when opposing Mr. Hume’s motion to amend the national repre¬ sentation, on account of its tinkering with the constitution, in order to gratify the pre¬ judices of a section of the country—“This is a middle-class movement: it is nothing more nor less than an attempt to aggrandize the power of that body of persons who have frankly told us that this is a middle-class government, and, therefore, that they will take care of their own interests and their own objects. The House will not forget what that class has done in its legislative enterprises. I do not use the term ‘middle- class’ with any disrespect; no one more than myself estimates what the urban population has done for the liberty and civilization of mankind; but I speak of the middle- class as of one which avowedly aims at predominance; and therefore it is expedient to ascertain how far the fact justifies a con¬ fidence in their political capacity. It was only at the end of the last century that the middle-class rose into any considerable influence, chiefly through Mr. Pitt—that minister whom they are always abusing. The first great movement in which they suc¬ ceeded, showing their power over the people out of doors, independent of parliament, was the abolition of the slave trade—a noble and sublime act—but carried with an entire ignorance of the subject, as the event has proved. How far it has aggravated the horrors of slavery, I stop not now to inquire. I make only one observation upon it with reference to the present subject of debate. The middle class emancipated the negroes; but they never proposed a Ten Hours Bill. So much for that move. The interests of the working classes of England were not much considered in that arrangement. Hav¬ ing tried their hand at colonial reform, by which, without diminishing the horrors of slavery, they succeeded in ruining our colo¬ nies—they next turned their hands to par¬ liamentary reform, and carried the Reform Bill. But observe, in that operation, they destroyed, under the pretence of its corrupt exercise, the old industrial franchise, and they never constructed a new one. So much for the interests of the people in their second great legislative enterprise. So that, whether we look to their colonial reform or their parliamentary reform, they entirely neg¬ lected the industrial classes. Having failed in colonial as well as in parliamentary re¬ form—and I need not show how completely they have failed in parliamentary reform, for the debate of this night is the perfect proof of that fact—they next tried commer¬ cial reform, and introduced free imports under the specious name of free trade. How were the interests of the working classes considered in this third movement? More than they were in their colonial or their parliamentary reform? On the contrary, while the interests of capital were unblush- ingly advocated, the displaced labour of the country was offered neither consolation nor compensation; but was told that it must submit to be absorbed in the mass. In their colonial, parliamentary, and commer¬ cial reforms, there is no evidence of any sympathy with the working classes; and every one of the measures so forced upon the country has, at the same time, proved disas¬ trous. Their colonial reform ruined the colonies and increased slavery. Their par¬ liamentary reform, according to their own account, was a delusion which has filled the people with disappointment and disgust. If their commercial reform have not proved AND HIS TIMES. 19 ruinous, then the picture that has been pre¬ sented to us of the condition of England every day for the last four or five months must be a gross misrepresentation. In this state of affairs, as a remedy for half a cen¬ tury of failure, we are, under their auspices, to take refuge in financial reform, which I predict will prove their fourth failure, and one in which the interests of the working classes will be as little considered and ac¬ complished.” Nor was Benjamin Disraeli, as it has been stated, when he addressed the con¬ stituency in front of the “ Bed Lion ” hostel at High Wycombe, a reformer in the sense that Joseph Hume and Buhver Lytton were reformers, though he frankly avowed that he was in favour not only of increasing the number of members of parliament, but also of increasing their privileges and en¬ larging their political capacity. “ I am not one of those,” he declares, in his “ Vindica¬ tion of the English Constitution,” a treatise which was partly written at this time, though published at a later period, “ who believe that the safety of the constitution is consulted by encouraging an exclusive principle in the formation of the consti¬ tution of our Third Estate. It is not the supposed democratic character which it has assumed under the new arrangement—I wish I could call it settlement—that fills me with any apprehensions. On the contrary, I wish it were even more Catholic, though certainly not more Papist.” Nor was Benjamin Disraeli a Tory in the sense that Canning and Eldon and Wellington had caused the name to be understood. His Toryism was that of Sir William Wyndham, of Lord Bolingbroke, of the second Pitt— the Toryism that had banished placemen from the House of Commons, and had denounced Walpole, that had crushed the Papacy, opposed a standing army, cherished free elections, upheld short parliaments, and which, before the Brights and Cobdens had ever raised their voices, had applied philosophy to commerce and science to finance; it had nothing in common with the Toryism then prevalent, which regarded every admission to the demands of progress as a sign that the “ star of England’s glory had set for ever,” and that the future was to be the chaos of revolution. Yet the principles of the candidate for the suffrages of High Wycombe were imbued with the soundest Toryism. “ This respect for pre¬ cedent,” he writes in his “Vindication,” “this clinging to prescription, this reverence for antiquity, which are so often ridiculed by conceited and superficial minds, and move the especial contempt of the gentlemen who admire abstract principles, appear to me to have their origin in a profound knowledge of human nature and in a fine observation of public affairs, and satisfactorily to ac¬ count for the permanent character of our liberties. Those great men who have periodically risen to guide the helm of our government in times of tumultuous and stormy exigency knew that a State is a complicated creation of refined art, and they handled it with all the delicacy a piece of exquisite machinery requires. They knew that, if once they admitted the abstract rights of subjects, they must inevitably advance to the abstract rights of men, and then that the very foundations of their civil polity would sink beneath them. ... It is to this deference to what Lord Coke finely styles ‘ reverend antiquity ’ that I ascribe the duration of our commonwealth; and it is this spirit which has prevented even our revolutions from being destruc¬ tive.” But his affection for the past did not blind him to the evils that would arise if all its associations were maintained. Where it was necessary to advocate reform he ranked himself as a reformer, though his reforms were to be framed upon the old lines; the constitution was to be restored and renovated, not razed to the ground and then rebuilt. He was a Tory, because he had the reverence of the cultivated mind for antiquity; he was a Beformer, because he believed in the democratic influence. The union of Toryism with enlightened and restrained reform expressed, both in his 20 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD youth and in liis old age, his political faith. “ The Tory party in this country,” he writes to Lord Lyndhurst, “ is the national party; it is the really democratic party of England. It supports the institutions of the country, because they have been established for the common good, and because they secure the equality of civil rights, without which, what¬ ever may be its name, no government can be free, and based upon which principle every government, however it may be styled, is in fact a democracy.” On this occasion when he contested High Wycombe he was opposed by Colonel Grey, the third son of the prime minister, who headed the poll by a majority of eleven votes. Benjamin Disraeli was soon called upon to make a second appeal to the electors of the borough. Parliament was dissolved August 16, 1832, and in the autumn a general election—the first under the new Reform Bill—ensued. The late candidate for High Wycombe, though he had been defeated, was not disheartened, and he lost no time in issuing his address. In its paragraphs he speaks with no uncertain voice: his opinions are clear and decided. In his advocacy of triennial parliaments, and in his attack upon places and pensions, we see him standing upon his favourite platform—the Toryism of Wyndham and Bolingbroke, and of the party which warred against the power and corruption of Wal¬ pole. The nomination system, which the Whigs were utilising in the most barefaced manner to push the fortunes of their friends and followers, also encountered the wrath of his indignation. Yet, as became a Tory adhering to the old principles of the creed, he was true to his teaching of the fusion of aristocracy with democracy, and his voice was raised in favour of such reforms in the condition of the people as he deemed necessary for their happiness and stability. As he candidly admitted in a speech at a public meeting held by his supporters, he was “ a Conservative to pre¬ serve all that is good in our constitution, a Radical to remove all that is bad.” The address was issued October 1, 1832, and was dated from Bradenham House; it ran thus:— “to the independent electors of the BOROUGH OF CHIPPING WYCOMBE. “ Friends and Neighbours, “ A Dissolution of Parliament, notwithstanding the machinations of those who have clogged the new charter of your rights which you have won with so much difficulty, with all the vexatious provisoes of a fiscal enactment, being an event which cannot be much longer delayed, I think fit to announce my readiness to redeem the pledge which I made to you at the close of the late con¬ test on the hustings of our borough, and to assure you of my resolution to go to the poll to make another, and, I doubt not, triumphant struggle for your independence. “I warned our late masters of the dangerous precedent of electing a stranger merely because he was the relative of a minister; I foretold, as a con¬ sequence of their compliance, a system of nomina¬ tion as fatal as those close corporations of whicl you are relieved. The event has justified my prediction. Wycombe has now the honour of being represented by the Private Secretary of the First Lord of the Treasury.* “ A few years back Aylesbury was threatened with the Private Secretary of the Lord Chan¬ cellor, t The men of Aylesbury rejected with loathing that which it appears suited the more docile digestion of the late electors of Wycombe. The Private Secretary of the Lord Chancellor was withdrawn, and in his place was substituted an unknown youth, whose only recommendation is, that he is the very young brother of a very inex¬ perienced minister, and one who has obtained power merely by the renunciation of every pledge which procured him an entrance into public life. “ Gentlemen, I come forward to oppose this dis¬ gusting system of factious and intrusive nomination which, if successful, must be fatal to your local independence, and which, if extensively acted upon throughout the country, may even be destructive of your general liberties. I come forward wearing the badge of no party and the livery of no faction. I seek your suffrages as an independent neighbour, who, sympathizing with your wants and interests, will exercise his utmost influence in the great national council to relieve the one and support the other. “ But, while I am desirous of entering Parlia¬ ment as an independent man, I have never availed myself of that much-abused epithet to escape an explicit avowal of my opinions. I am desirous of * Col Grey, the son of Earl Grey. f Mr. Le Marchant, the private secretary of Lord Brougham. AND HIS TIMES. 21 assisting in the completion of the machinery of our new constitution, without which perfection I am doubtful whether it will work. I am prepared to support that ballot which will preserve us from that unprincipled system of terrorism with which it would seem we are threatened even in this town. I am desirous of recurring to those old English and triennial Parliaments of which the Whigs originally deprived us, and, by repealing the taxes upon knowledge, I would throw the education of the people into the hands of the philosophic stu¬ dent, instead of the ignorant adventurer. “ While I shall feel it my duty to enforce on all opportunities the most rigid economy and the most severe retrenchment, to destroy every useless place and every undeserved pension, and to effect the greatest reduction of taxation, consistent with the maintenance of the public faith and the real effi¬ ciency of the Government, I shall withhold my support from every Ministry which will not originate some great measure to ameliorate the condition of the lower orders, to rouse the dor¬ mant energies of the country, to liberate our shackled industry, and re-animate our expiring credit. “I have already expressed my willingness to assist in the modification of our criminal code. I have already explained how I think the abolition of slavery may be safely and speedily effected. With regard to the corn laws, I will support any change the basis of which is to relieve the con¬ sumer without injuring the farmer; and for the church, I am desirous of seeing effected some ex¬ tensive commutation which, while it prevents tithe from acting as a tax upon industry and enterprise, will, I trust, again render the clergy what I am always desirous of seeing them, fairly remunerated, because they are valuable and effi¬ cient labourers, and influential because they are beloved. “And now I call upon every man who values the independence of our borough, upon every man who desires the good government of this once great and happy country, upon every man who feels he has a better chance of being faithfully served by a member who is his neighbour, than by a remote representative who, like the idle wind no man regardeth, comes one day we know not whence, and goes the next we know not whither, to support me in this struggle against that rapa¬ cious, tyrannical, and incapable faction, who, having knavishly obtained power by false pre¬ tences, sillily suppose that they will be permitted to retain it by half measures, and who in the course of their brief but disastrous career have contrived to shake * every great interest of the empire to its centre. “ Ireland in rebellion, the colonies in convulsion, our foreign relations in a state of such inextricable confusion, that we are told that war can alone sever the Gordian knot of complicated blunders ; the farmer in doubt, the ship-owner in despair, our merchants without trade, and our manufac¬ turers without markets, the revenue declining, and the army increased, the wealthy hoarding their useless capital, and pauperism prostrate in our once-contented cottages—Englishmen, behold the unparalleled empire, raised by the heroic energies of your fathers ! Bouse yourselves in this hour of doubt and danger, rid yourselves of all that political jargon and factious slang of Whig and Tory—two names with one meaning, used only to delude you—and unite in forming a great national party which can alone save the country from impending destruction! “ I have the honour to remain, “ Your obliged and devoted servant, “B. Disraeli. “ Bradenham House, Oct., 1832 .” High Wycombe sent two members to parliament, and three candidates bad now entered themselves for the two seats. The return of Mr. Smith, afterwards the second Lord Carington, the lord of the manor, who had represented the borough for many years, was considered assured; hence the real struggle lay between Benjamin Disraeli and his former opponent, Colonel Grey. The nomination took place on the 10th of December, and the following figures showed the result of the poll—Mr. Smith, 179; Colonel Grey, 140; B. Disraeli, 119. For the second time the ambition of the young author had to encounter defeat. It was only natural that a man—and especially a very confident and somewhat audacious young man—who sought to re¬ duce the debased Toryism then accepted as the faith of the party to its first principles, should lay himself open to misrepresenta¬ tion. The Whigs were unable to under¬ stand how a man could believe in the virtue and efficacy of an aristocracy, and yet attack an oligarchy. The Beformers could not understand how a man believed in the democratic principle, and yet had faith in Toryism. The Tories again, at least several of them, could not understand how a man, 22 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD who eaid he professed their tenets, yet put his trust in the power of the people. To Benjamin Disraeli this apparent con¬ fusion of ideas, and this alleged amalgama¬ tion of totally opposite forces, were but the logical deductions from premises which he declared could not he disputed. Since, as he clearly proved in his now forgotten pamphlet “ What is He ? ” the Reform Act had destroyed the aristocratic principle in the country, it was necessary, unless the mischievous policy of the Whigs was to be supreme, for all who were anxious to obtain a strong government to advance the demo¬ cratic principle. “ A Tory and a Radical,” he cries, “ I can understand. A Whig—a democratic aristocrat—I cannot compre¬ hend. If the Tories, indeed, despair of restoring the aristocratic principle, and are sincere in their avowal that the State can¬ not be governed with the present machinery, it is their duty to coalesce with the Radicals and permit both political nicknames to merge in the common, the intelligible, and the dignified title of a National Party.” And what were the objects this national party should set before them ? He answers the question some years later when the politician had developed into the practical statesman. This is the reply:—“ To change back the oligarchy into a generous aristocracy round a real throne; to infuse life and vigour into the church, as the trainer of the nation, by the revival of convocation, then dumb, on a wide basis, and not as has been done in the shape of a priestly section; to establish a commercial code on the principles successfully nego¬ tiated by Lord Bolingbroke at Utrecht, and which, though baffled at the time by a Whig parliament, were subsequently and triumphantly vindicated by his political pupil and heir, Mr. Pitt; to govern Ireland according to the policy of Charles the First, and not of Oliver Cromwell; to emancipate the political constituency of 1832 from its sectarian bondage and contracted sym¬ pathies ; to elevate the physical as well as the moral condition of the people, by establishing that labour required regulation as much as property—and all this rather by the use of ancient forms and the restora¬ tion of the past, than by political revolutions founded on abstract ideas—appeared to be the course which the circumstances of this country required, and which, practically speaking, could only, with all their faults and backslidings, be undertaken and accom¬ plished by a re-constructed Tory party.” It was a saying of the Duke of Welling¬ ton, who, certainly, in his career exemplified the truth of his remark, that “in politics it was impossible always to be consistent.” Political history, it would be in vain to deny, exhibits, more than any other form of history, constant changes in the opinion of the individual. We see men ending the exact opposites of how they began; banning what they once blessed, and advocating what they once hotly thwarted: the Tory crossing over to the ranks of advanced Liberalism, the vehement Radical becoming a staunch supporter of all privileges; the advocate of protection contending for free trade; the denouncer of emancipation bring¬ ing in a bill for the relief of Catholic dis¬ abilities; the opponent of reform trimming his sails to catch the breeze of universal suffrage; the stout upholder of the union between Church and State, paving the way for disestablishment; and the like. We see men who once held opposite opinions, and whose political hate towards each other en¬ livened the dullness of many a debate, at last sitting on the Treasury bench, and taking sweet counsel together in the same cabinet. Strange coalitions, conversions, and friendships meet us at every turn, as we scan the records of political life, until, like the hero of Waterloo, w T e arrive at the conclusion that to expect consistency in political life is to look for the impossible. The simple fact is that in the pursuit of politics consistency is not only an impossi¬ bility but an absurdity. If the spirit of the age were fixed, there is no reason why a man should not be as consistent in main¬ taining the opinions he holds in political AND HIS TIMES. 23 life as lie is in private life. But in the study of politics—a subject ever developing with the progress of the nation in culture and civilization—to be consistent is only another word for either a culpable obstinacy or a culpable narrow-mindedness. For the man of to-day to pique himself upon pro¬ fessing the same opinions he entertained a generation since is simply to assert that, whilst the world is marching on, he prefers to stand still. All that we have a right to expect from our legislators is, that they will not express their views upon any grave question without having first devoted sound study to the subject, and that they will arrive at their conclusions only after weighty consideration. The vice of parlia¬ mentary life is not that men frequently change their opinions, but that they are in the habit of adopting them without previous thought or reflection; then, enlightened by subsequent study, they feel compelled—like another Fox, or Wellington, or Peel, or Pal¬ merston—to abandon the teaching they once inculcated. We must bear this fact in mind when we have to deal with those occasions when Mr. Disraeli did not so much change his opinions as he felt bound to change his policy in order to be in that harmony with the spirit of the age, which the private individual can ignore, but the statesman must consult and respect. Yet few ministers throughout a long career have been so true to the political creed they professed as Lord Beaconsfield; he was true, not because he shut his eyes to advancement, but because he anticipated its strides, and only arrived at his conclu¬ sions after mature study and reflection. In his speeches and early pamphlets he fore¬ shadowed the policy he adopted when he became minister of England. Throughout his life he was the steady and persistent foe of the Whigs. In his reform bill of 1867 he put into practice the tenets he promul¬ gated on the hustings at High Wycombe, and advocated in his pamphlets, “ What is He ?” and the “Vindication of the English Constitu¬ tion.” The interest he took in the working classes, visible in the pages of his “ Con- ingsby” and “Sybil,” practically revealed itself when he possessed the power and op¬ portunity of office. And his much-derided imperial policy, which raised his country to a position she had not occupied since the days of Palmerston, can be foretold from a perusal of his novel “ Tancred,” of his speeches during the Crimean war, and from every word that fell from his lips during a debate upon the foreign policy of England. Never have his enemies more stultified themselves, never have they laid themselves more easily open to a crushing refutation, never have they more clearly revealed the unscrupulous character of their hate, than when they made the charge against Ben¬ jamin Disraeli that his life was a tissue of inconsistencies. He was consistent, not because he was beneath the influence of the obstinacy and the prejudices of an Eldon, but because he was far-seeing, and had drawn up the articles of his political creed only after deep reading and reflection. The spiteful hacks on the press who had failed to write themselves into consular appointments, and the pamphleteering par¬ sons who displayed the sweetness of the Christian character by rabid attacks which were always so irritatingly ignored, would have done wiser according to their miserable lights, instead of branding Lord Beacons¬ field as “ a political apostate,” to have con¬ fined themselves to their favourite taunt, that “ he had not a drop of English blood in his veins.” The sneer essentially ap¬ pealed to the audience they addressed, since it always impressed the vulgar and gratified the malevolent. CHAPTER II. FORTI NIHIL DIFFICILE. Benjamin Disraeli was now for the third time to court political fortune at High Wycombe. Early in the December of 1834 he issued his address, and prepared to do battle against his old opponents. The turn of events was beginning to favour his ambi¬ tion. The Grey ministry was not a happy family. When men of different political opinions agree to unite for the purpose of remedying abuses, there will always be those amongst the number who, on every occasion, advocate reform, as well as those who are nervously sensitive about meddling with established institutions, unless when abso¬ lutely compelled. There will be the men who wish to uproot the tree, the men who are content with lopping off a branch here and there and shoring up its trunk, and the men who fear to disturb vitality by any interference. These disintegrating elements soon appeared in the Grey cabinet. At first, animated by the impulse of a powerful majority, it entered upon a course of active legislation; it abolished slavery in the West Indies, it destroyed commercial monopoly in the East, it instituted reforms in the Irish Church Establishment it re-arranged our Poor Law system. Then divisions began to ensue; for some of his followers Earl Grey held opinions that were too advanced, for others he was too timid and retrogressive. Early in the March of 1833 the passionate and indiscreet Lord Durham, who was pledged to household suffrage and vote by ballot, resigned. The following year, on the disputed question of the reduction of the Irish Church Establishment, Mr. Stanley (afterwards Lord Derby), Sir James Graham, the Earl of Ripon, and the Duke of Rich¬ mond severed themselves from the ministry; they maintained that to appropriate the revenues of the Irish Church to the purposes of the State was nothing less than sacri¬ legious confiscation. The renewal of the Coercion Act completed the dissolution of the original elements of the Reform cabinet. Ireland was in one of her customary fits of turbulence and sedition, and, under the in¬ fluence of the treasonable oratory of Daniel O’Connell, was agitating for a repeal of the Union. Throughout the country murder and outrage were prevalent, and, unless the reign of law was to give way to a blind and vindictive anarchy, it was necessary to Resort to extreme measures. Earl Grey proposed the renewal of the Coercion Act; his cob leagues approved of the step, but wished to mitigate the severity of several of its clauses. The dull, conscientious, fox-hunting Lord Althorp, whose influence in the House of Commons was enormous, desired that the clauses against public meetings should be dropped. The prime minister did not see his way to accept the amendment, and Lord Althorp resigned. In the face of the oppo¬ sition of his quondam colleague, Earl Grey felt himself powerless to carry the Coercion Bill, and he also gave up the seals of office. Through the suggestions of Lord Brougham the Reform ministry was still kept in power; vacancies were filled up, and those who had not resigned were implored to retain their posts. It was the same house with new tenants. The “ exhausted sensualist,” Lord Melbourne, succeeded Earl Grey. Lord Althorp, who loved sport and hated office, was, after much persuasion, induced to ac¬ cept the chancellorship of the exchequer and the lead of the House of Commons, on the condition that the Coercion Bill would be amended. Mr. Stanley was replaced at the Colonial Office by Mr. Spring Rice; the THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. 25 Duke of Richmond at the Post Office by the Marquis of Conyngham; whilst Mr. Lyttleton succeeded Sir John Hobhouse as chief-secretary for Ireland. The other posts were filled up by their original occupants. Lord Brougham still held the Great Seal; Lord Palmerston was at the Foreign Office; Mr. Grant at the Indian Board; and Sir James Graham at the Admiralty. For a few months the doctored-up ministry continued in power, busying itself with the Irish Coercion Bill, the Irish Tithe Bill, and offending many of its supporters by its subserviency to O’Connell. Then an accidental circum¬ stance hastened its downfall. Lord Althorp, owing to the death of his father, was re¬ moved to the upper house, as Earl Spencer, and consequently had to resign the seals as chancellor of the exchequer. Lord Melbourne now proposed the vacant post to Lord John Russell;.but to his surprise, and to the total dismay of his followers, the king, who hated Lord Brougham, and disapproved of the clauses of the Irish Church Bill, availed himself of this oppor¬ tunity to dismiss the Melbourne cabinet, and to send for the Duke of Wellington. His grace, with his usual ready obedience to the commands of the sovereign, at once complied with the royal wishes, but re¬ commended that the task of forming an administration should be intrusted to Sir Robert Peel, as, since the passing of the Reform Bill, the prime minister ought to belong to the lower house.* His Majesty assented. Sir Robert was then about to winter in Rome, but a messenger was de¬ spatched in hot haste to inform him of the change of events, and to request his instant * “ So his grace declared after the Reform Bill was passed as its inevitable result, that henceforth the prime minister must be a member of the House of Commons; and this aphorism, cited as usual by the duke’s parasites as demon¬ stration of his supreme sagacity, was a graceful mode of resigning the pre-eminence which had been productive of such great party disasters. It is remarkable that the party who devised and passed the Reform Bill, and who, in conse¬ quence, governed the nation for ten years, never once had their prime minister in the House of Commons : but that does not signify ; the duke’s maxim is still quoted as an uracle almost equal in prescience to his famous query, ‘ How is the king’s government to be carried on ?’ ”— Coning shy. VOL. L return. In the meantime the duke con¬ sented to act as first lord of the treasury and secretary of state. Such was the position of affairs when Mr. Disraeli, for the third time, addressed the constituency of High Wycombe, and offered himself as one of their candidates. Disgusted with the shifting policy of the Grey-Melbourne cabinets, and the frequent alterations in its men and measures, he turned their whole administration into ridi¬ cule, and spoke warmly in support of Sir Robert Peel. The speech he delivered on this occasion—which he afterwards published as a pamphlet, entitled “The Crisis Ex¬ amined ”—is among his happiest specimens of oratory. It is replete with eloquence, and bristles throughout with those witty personalities and satirical illustrations which afterwards were among the most formidable weapons his opponents had to contend against. He was in favour of the repeal of the malt tax, he began, since it was an invidious exaction pressing heavily upon an already sufficiently burdened interest. He disapproved of the Irish tithes; “twelve months,” he said, “ must not pass over without the very name of tithes in Ireland being abolished for ever; nor do I deem it less urgent that the Protestant establish¬ ment in that country should be at once proportioned to the population which it serves.” Still he supported the existence of the Irish Church, because experience had taught him that churches, when de¬ spoiled, only benefited the aristocracy. “ I remember Woburn,” he laughed, “ and I tremble.” He was no bigot, and he would grant the dissenters what they claimed in the matter of marriage and registration; also, he was no upholder of church rates. “ As for the question of the church rate,” he said, “ it is impossible that we can endure that, every time one is levied, a town should present the scene of a contested election. The rights of the establishment must be respected, but for the sake of the establishment itself, that flagrant scandal must be removed.” Further 4 26 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD reformation he would not sanction ; he was pledged to maintain the integrity of the church, and nothing would induce him to depart from his word. He would enter parliament if not as an adherent of Sir Robert Peel, who had displayed how worthy he was of the confidence of the country during the years he had led the Opposition, at least he would attach himself to no other statesman. It was true that the incoming prime minister might be called upon to pass measures that he had before deemed inex¬ pedient, but he generously argued, holding the theory of the Duke of Wellington, that it was impossible always to be consistent with oneself in the profession of politics. “The truth is, gentlemen,” he said, “a statesman is the creature of his age, the child of circumstance, the creation of his times. A statesman is essentially a practical character; and when he is called upon to take office, he is not to inquire what his opinions might or might not have been upon this or that subject—he is only to ascertain the needful and the beneficial, and the most feasible manner in which affairs are to be carried on. The fact is, the conduct and opinions of public men at different periods of their career must not be too curiously contrasted in a free and aspir¬ ing country. The people have their passions, and it is even the duty of public men occa¬ sionally to adopt sentiments with which they do not sympathize, because the people must have leaders. ... I laugh, therefore, at the objections against a man that at a former period of his career he advocated a policy different to his present one : all I ask to ascertain is, whether his present policy be just, necessary, expedient; whether, at the present moment, he is prepared to serve the country according to its present neces¬ sities.” The chief feature of the address, however, was the speaker’s humorous criticism of the proceedings of the Reform ministry, and of the manner in which it had been patched and re-patched until of its original materials scarcely anything was left. Save the mordant philippics against Peel, it is the best piece of finished invective that Mr. Disraeli ever indulged in. “ The Reform ministry! ” he cried. “ Where is it? Let us calmly trace the history of this ‘united cabinet.’ Yery soon after its formation, Lord Durham withdrew from the royal councils; the only man, it would appear, of any decision of character among its members. Still it was a most ‘united’ cabinet. Lord Durham only withdrew on account of his ill-health. The friends of this nobleman represent him as now ready to seize the helm of the state: a few months back, it would appear, his frame was too feeble to bear even the weight of the Privy Seal. Lord Durham retired on account of ill-health; he generously conceded this plea in charity to the colleagues he despised. Lord Durham quitted the ‘ united cabinet,’ and very shortly afterwards its two most able members in the House of Commons, and two of their most influential colleagues in the House of Lords, suddenly secede. What a rent! But then it was about a trifle. In all other respects the cabinet was most ‘ united.’ Five leading members of the Reform ministry have departed; yet the venerable reputation of Lord Grey, and the fair fame of Lord Althorp, still keep them together, and still command the re¬ spect, if not the confidence, of the nation. But marvel of marvels! Lord Grey and Lord Althorp both retire in a morning, and in—disgust. Lord Grey is suddenly dis¬ covered to be behind his time, and his secession is even intimated to be a subject of national congratulation; Lord Althorp joins the crew again, and the cabinet is again ‘united.’ Delightful union! Then commenced a series of scenes unparalleled in the history of the administrations of any country; scenes which would have dis¬ graced individuals in private life, and vio¬ lated the decorum of domestic order. The lord chancellor dangling about the great seal in post-chaises, and vowing that he would write to the sovereign by the post; while cabinet ministers exchanged menac- AND HIS TIMES. 27 ing looks at public dinners, and querulously contradicted each other before the eyes of an admiring nation. Good God, gentlemen, could this go on? Why, even Mr. Ellice, the Eight Hon. W. Ellice—who was so good as to send us down a member of parliament —he could no longer submit to nestle in this falling house, and he too quitted the ‘united’ cabinet because he had—what, for a ducat?—a sore throat! Why they ridicule themselves, and yet the tale is not all told. There is really too much humour in the entertainment. They make us laugh too much—the fun is overdone. It is like going to those minor theatres where we see Liston in four successive farces. Lord Melbourne, whose claim to being prime minister of England, according to the Whigs, is that he is a gentleman, Lord Melbourne flies to the king, and informs him that a plan of ‘ church reform ’ has been proposed in the ‘ united cabinet,’ and that Lord Lansdowne and Mr. Spring Eice, the only remaining ministers in the slightest degree entitled, I will not say to the confidence, but to the consideration of the country, have, in consequence, menaced him with their resignations. I doubt not, gentlemen, that this plan of ‘church re¬ form’ was only some violent measure to revive the agitation of the country and resuscitate the popularity of the Whigs, a measure which they never meant and never desired to pass. Perhaps feeling that it was all over with them, it was a wretched ruse , apparently, to go out upon a popular measure. However, Lord Melbourne, with as serious a face as he could command, informed His Majesty that the remains of the ‘united cabinet,’ Sir John Hobhouse and Lord John Eussell, were still as united as ever, and he ended by proposing that the House of Com¬ mons should be led by his lordship, who, on the same principle that bad wine produces good vinegar, has somehow turned from a tenth-rate author into a first-rate poli¬ tician. And then Lord Melbourne says that the king turned them out! Turned them out, gentlemen! why His Majesty laughed them out! The truth is that this famous Eeform ministry had degenerated into a grotesque and Hudibrastic faction, the very lees of ministerial existence, the offal of official life. They were a ragged regiment, compared with which Ealstaff’s crew was a band of regulars. The king would not march through Coventry with them—that was flat. The Eeform ministry, indeed! Why, scarcely an original member of that celebrated cabinet remained. You remember, gentlemen, the story of Sir John Cutler’s silk hose. Those famous stockings remind me of this famous ministry; for really, between Hobhouse darns and Ellice botching, I hardly can decide whether the hose are silk or worsted. The Eeform ministry! I daresay now some of you have heard of Mr. Ducrow, that celebrated gen¬ tleman who rides upon six horses. What a prodigious achievement! It seems impos¬ sible, but you have confidence in Ducrow. You fly to witness it. Unfortunately, one of the horses is ill, and a donkey is sub¬ stituted in his place. But Ducrow is still admirable; there he is bounding along in a spangled jacket and cork slippers. The whole town is mad to see Ducrow riding at the same time upon six horses; but now two more of the steeds are seized with the stag¬ gers, and lo! three jackasses in their stead. Still Ducrow persists and still announces to the public that he will ride round his circus every night on his six steeds. At last all the horses are knocked up, and now there are half a dozen donkeys. What a change! Behold the hero in the amphitheatre, the spangled jacket thrown on one side, the cork slippers on the other. Puffing, panting, and perspiring, he pokes one sullen brute, thwacks another, cuffs a third, and curses a fourth, while one brays to the audience, and another rolls in the sawdust. Behold the late prime minister and the Eeform minis¬ try! The spirited and snow-white steeds have gradually changed into an equal number of sullen and obstinate donkeys; while Mr. Merryman, who, like the lord chancellor (Brougham), was once 28 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD the very life of the ring, now lies his despairing length in the middle of the stage, with his jokes exhausted and his bottle empty.” In spite, however, of his wit and talk, it was not to be; High Wycombe declined to be won. The election took place, and Benjamin Disraeli for the third time saw himself at the bottom of the poll. The numbers were—Smith, 288 ; Grey, 147; Disraeli, 128. His irrepressible buoyancy, however, did not forsake him. “ He was not at all disheartened,” he said at a Con¬ servative dinner held in his honour, “ he did not feel in any way like a beaten man. Perhaps it was because he was used to it. He would say of himself, with the famous Italian general, who being asked in his old age why he was always victorious, replied that it was because he had always been beaten in youth.” For the first time in his political career Sir Robert Peel, on taking his seat as the chief of a cabinet, relied entirely upon himself, and cut the leading strings which had bound him to those on whom he de¬ pended. In his earlier years he had leant upon the counsels of Lord Eldon, and when he had emancipated himself from Eldon he fell under the magic wand of the hero of Waterloo. But during the period when he had led the opposition against the Reform ministry his character had developed itself. He was not only the chief of the Opposi¬ tion, but he was the Opposition itself. His powers of debate, his business-like capacity for dealing with details, the confidence with which his character inspired his followers, his patience, the dexterity with which he seized upon the ideas of other people, pass¬ ing them through the mill of his receptive intellect and turning them out as his own, his exquisite plausibility—all caused him to tower above those who surrounded him. What he advised, his followers carried out; his approval or disapproval gave the cue to those who sat behind him, and seldom had he occasion to complain of disobedience in the ranks. Upon being summoned to succeed Lord Melbourne, the in-coming premier saw that the narrow and prejudiced Toryism of the Duke of Wellington was out of harmony with the spirit of the times, and he struck out a course for himself Like all men lacking in originality and self-reliance, he instituted a policy of com¬ promise. He took up a middle position between the short-sighted Toryism that had succeeded the policy of Pitt, and the advanced Radicalism then being taught by Joseph Hume and the reformers. He was not prepared to build up afresh or to lay before his party the designs of the architect; but he would add when necessary to the fabric, and restore where it was crumbling. If with loyalty to his sovereign, he could have avoided the task of forming an ad¬ ministration, he would no doubt have been glad of an excuse. He saw that, though the country was irritated with the Whigs, it was not yet ripe for Tory government. He knew that his power must depend upon the result of a general election, and that he would, almost inevitably, enter parliament with a minority. Had he been in England at the time of the dismissal of the Mel¬ bourne cabinet he would have advised delay; but he had now no choice ex¬ cept to act as desired by the duke. “ I feel it my duty,” he said in the House of Commons, “in spite of the prospects before me, to maintain the post which has been offered me, and to stand by the trust which I did not seek, but which I could not decline.” Meanwhile his return from Rome was anxiously expected, and created an excite¬ ment in the winter of 1834 seldom visible at that dull season of the year. The clubs were full, country-houses were deserted, men were indifferent to hunting and hurried up to town, whilst the Tadpoles and Tapers, and the other “ twelve hundred a yearers,” went nervously to and fro, wondering whether, under the new regime , their claims would be recognized, and they would again find themselves drawing salary from the treasury. But the great ques- AND HIS TIMES. 29 tion of the hour, about which bets were freely laid, and which excited replies of the most varied character, was who were to form the government, and what was the govern¬ ment to be ? “Was it to be,” wrote Mr. Disraeli in his clever political romance, *a Tory government or an enlightened-spirit- of-the-age liberal-moderate-reform govern¬ ment ? was it to be a government of high philosophy or of low practice; of principle or of expediency; of great measures or of little men ? A government of statesmen or of clerks ? Of humbug or of humdrum ? Great questions these, but unfortunately there was nobody to answer them. They tried the duke; but nothing could be pumped out of him. All that he knew, which he told in his curt, husky manner, was, that he had to carry on the king’s government. As for his solitary colleague, he listened and smiled, and then in his musical voice asked them questions in re¬ turn, which is the best possible mode of avoiding awkward inquiries. It was very unfair this; for no one knew what tone to take; whether they should go down to their public dinners and denounce the Reform Act or praise it; whether the church was to be re-modelled or only admonished; whether Ireland was to be conquered or conciliated.” All doubts were, however, soon set at rest by the arrival of Sir Robert Peel. At once he began to carry out his colourless creed of compromise. He invited two of the most prominent reformers, Mr. (afterwards Lord) Stanley and Sir James Graham, to enter his cabinet, an offer which, however, they declined. In his manifesto to the electors at Tamworth, he denied that he was an opponent of rational reform or a defender of abuses. He declared that he considered the Reform Bill “ a final and irrevocable settlement of a great constitutional ques¬ tion—a settlement which no friend to the peace and welfare of the country would attempt to disturb, either by direct or insidious means.” On taking his seat upon the treasury bench, he bade for support by a hollow but plausible programme. He offered the prospect of continued peace— the restored confidence of powerful states who were willing to seize the opportunity of reducing great armies, and thus to diminish the chances of hostile collision. He offered reduced estimates, improvements in civil jurisprudence, reform of ecclesi¬ astical law, the settlement of the Irish tithe question, the removal of any real abuse in the church, the redress of such grievances as the dissenters had just reasons to murmur against, with various other taking proposals to catch the public. Yet this pro¬ gramme, excellent on paper and in specious speeches, was found to mean nothing when brought under the fierce light of com¬ mittees. “ The Tamworth manifesto of 1834,” com¬ ments Mr. Disraeli, “was an attempt to construct a party without principles; its basis therefore was necessarily latitudin- arianism, and its inevitable consequence has been political infidelity. At an epoch of political perplexity and social alarm, the confederation was convenient, and was calculated by aggregation to encourage the timid and confused. But when the pertur¬ bation was a little subsided, and men began to inquire why they were banded together, the difficulty of defining their purpose proved that the league, however respect¬ able, was not a party. The leaders indeed might profit by their eminent position to obtain power for their individual gratifica¬ tion, but it was impossible to secure their followers that which, after all, must be the great recompense of a political party, the putting in practice of their opinions; for they had none. There was indeed a con¬ siderable shouting about what they called Conservative principles; but the awkward question naturally arose, what will you conserve ? The prerogatives of the Crown, provided they are not exercised; the inde¬ pendence of the House of Lords, provided it is not asserted; the ecclesiastical estate, provided it is regulated by a commission of laymen. Everything, in short, that is 30 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD established, as long as it is a phrase and not a fact.” * The history of this short-lived adminis¬ tration is well known. Aware that he was holding power in face of a majority, Sir Robert Peel exerted all the parliamentary wiles, in which he was so consummate a master, to avoid an open battle. The ex¬ treme Tories—looking upon the policy he now for the first time called Conservatism , as only Whiggery under a new name—had deserted him. Many of the milder Liberals, mindful of the Peel who had opposed the Reform Bill, doubted his sincerity, and stood aloof. The voice was that of Jacob, they said, but the hands were those of Esau. From February to April the prime minister succeeded in avoiding a pitched battle; then the Irish tithe question forced him to come out of cover. Lord John Russell had moved that the house resolve itself “ into a com¬ mittee of the whole house in order to consider the present state of the church establishment in Ireland, with the view of applying any surplus of the revenues not required for the spiritual care of its members, to the general education of all classes of the people without distinction of religious per- * We know how wittily the Conservative programme was summed up in “ Coningsby”: — “ By Jove!” said the panting Buckhurst, throwing himself on the sofa, “ it was well done; never was any thing better done. An immense triumph! The greatest triumph the Conservative Cause has had. And yet,” he added, laughing, “ if any fellow were to ask me what the Conservative Cause is, I am sure I should not know what to say.” “ Why, it is the cause of our glorious institutions,” said Coningsby. “ A Crown robbed of its prerogatives; a Church controlled by a commission; and an Aristocracy that does not lead.” “ Under whose genial influence the order of the Peasantry, ‘ a country’s pride,’ has vanished from the face of the land,” said Henry Sydney, “ and is succeeded by a race of serfs, who are called labourers, and who burn ricks.” “Under which,” continued Coningsby, “the Crown has become a cipher; the Church a sect; the Nobility drones; and the People drudges.” “ It is the great constitutional cause,” said Lord Vere, “ that refuses everything to opposition; yields everything to agitation; conservative in Parliament, destructive out-of- doors ; that has no objection to any change provided only it be effected by unauthorized means.” “ The first public association of men,” said Coningsby, “ who have worked for an avowed end without enunciating a single principle.” “ And who have established political infidelity throughout the land,” said Lord Henry. “ By Jove! ” said Buckhurst, “ what infernal fools we have made ourselves this last week ! ” suasion.” Sir Robert felt bound to oppose the motion. He denied the right of the legislature to alienate ecclesiastical property for secular purposes. He described the move of Lord John Russell as a proposal to affirm an abstract right to deal with an imaginary surplus at some indefinite period, which might never arrive. What was to be gained, he asked, by the affirmation of so vague a proposition ? It might serve as another firebrand to kindle the inflamma¬ tory wars of Irish religious sentiment, but it could not lead to any practical good. The house, however, supported the motion of Lord John by a majority of thirty-three, and the prime minister, accepting his defeat, sent in his resignation. “ Two political results,” writes Mr. Double¬ day in his memoir of Sir Robert Peel, “unquestionably sprung out of this short and singular episode. One was that Sir Robert Peel, by the nerve and readiness which he displayed, added to his reputation as a first-rate debater and man of business. The second was the confidence in his future strength, which he now acquired from the contemplation of the altered posi¬ tion of his political rivals. This renewal of confidence was quite apparent in those addresses which his presence at certain civic festivals, got up probably for that purpose, enabled him to utter; and the emphatic advice of ‘Register! register! register! ’ * with which he greeted his friends on one of these occasions, demon¬ strated that he trusted to open for himself the avenue to future power, and distinctly foresaw a time when he should again hold in his hand the destinies of his country.” Mr. Disraeli indulges in similar reflections. “We believe we may venture to assume,” he writes, “that at no period during the movements of 1834-35 did Sir Robert Peel ever believe in the success of his adminis¬ tration. Its mere failure could occasion him little dissatisfaction; he was compen- * “ ‘ There is nothing like a good small majority,’ said Mr. Taper, ‘ and a good registration.’ “‘Ay! register, register, register!’ said the duke. ‘Those were immortal words.’ ”— Coningsby. AND HIS TIMES. 31 sated for it by the noble opportunity afforded to him for the display of those great qualities, both moral and intellectual, which the swaddling-clothes of a routine prosperity had long repressed, but of which his opposition to the Reform Bill had given to the nation a significant intimation. The brief administration elevated him in public opinion, and even in the eye of Europe; and it is probable that a much longer term of power would not have contributed more to his fame.” On the resignation of the Peel cabinet che king had no alternative but to re-instate Lord Melbourne—“ the minister, not of his wish, but of his necessity”—in power. This change of government brought again Ben¬ jamin Disraeli to the front. Mr. Henry Labouchere, the member for Taunton, had been appointed master of the mint and vice-president of the board of trade, and, as a natural consequence, vacated his seat. On appearing before his con¬ stituency for re-election, he found himself opposed by the thrice-rejected of High Wycombe. The contest was unequal, yet Mr. Disraeli had no reason to complain of his reception; the Tories gave him their support, and he found in the borough a good following to encourage him to proceed actively with his canvass. In his address and in his speeches, he frankly avowed the principles he professed. He had been ac¬ cused, he said, of inconsistency, because, on the one hand, though a Tory, he appreciated the influence of the working classes, and, on the other, though he admitted the claim s«of a democracy, he supported an aristocracy; but, as a matter of fact, if there were one thing he piqued himself upon more than another, it was his consistency. He had always resisted, with his utmost energy, the party of which his opponent was a member, for he had never ceased to avow that the Whigs were an anti-national party, careful only to identify their own interests with those of the country. He had considered it his duty to thwart the Whigs, to insure their discomfiture, and, if possible, to effect their destruction as a party. For these ends he had strenuously laboured; and since, on his entering political life, he had found the Tory party “a shattered, a feeble, a dis¬ heartened fragment, self-confessing its own inability to carry on the king’s government, and announcing an impending revolution,” he sought—openly sought—by new combi¬ nations to oppose the policy of the Whigs. But how was that policy to be opposed? Where were the elements of a party to keep the Whigs in check, and to bring back the old constitutional balance? “ Gentlemen,” he cried, addressing the Taunton electors, “ I thought they existed in the liberal Tories and in those inde¬ pendent Beformers who had been returned to parliament independently of the Whigs. I laboured for their union, and I am proud of it. Gentlemen, remember the Whig policy! they had a packed parliament; they had altered the duration of parliaments once before; I wished to break their strength by frequent elections and frequent appeals to a misgoverned people, and, therefore, I advocated a recurrence to those triennial parliaments which it was once the proudest boast of the Tories to advocate. I wished to give the country, gentlemen, a chance of representing the neighbouring towns, where they are esteemed, instead of the nominees of a sectarian oligarchy. Therefore, I pro¬ posed the adoption of the ballot in the only constituencies willing to assume it. And now, where is my inconsistency ?” The Whig party had fallen to pieces; the object for which he, Benjamin Disraeli, had laboured was attained; the balance of parties was restored; hence, measures which at one time it had been necessary for him to advocate, could now be abandoned. In other words, he acted upon the opinions he had advanced some months before at High Wycombe, when defending Sir Robert Peel for the course he might in the future pursue. What had been “just, necessary, and expedient” when the Tories were dis¬ heartened and disunited, and the Wdiigs powerful and unanimous, was now no 32 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD longer just, necessary, and expedient when the Whigs were divided and over¬ thrown, and the Tories organized and sanguine. In the course of the various speeches he delivered on that occasion, Benjamin Disraeli made frequent reference to the condition of Ireland, and his remarks led to a quarrel which malice will not willingly let die. As the witty nicknames attached by Lord Beaconsfield to the more con¬ spicuous of his opponents will endure as long as our parliamentary debates continue to excite interest, so will the fierce verbal onslaught of Daniel O’Connell upon the then Mr. Disraeli continue to be raked up and remembered. Nor can it be said that in the contest, if the object of abuse be to sting and stick, the defeat was with the so-called Liberator. Ireland was at this time a thorn festering more sorely than usual in the political flesh of England. The evils under which she laboured had, beneath the selfish and mischievous policy of O’Connell, been the means of creating such mutinous discontent that nothing short of dismemberment of the empire would satisfy the rebels. It was neither absenteeism, nor Protestantism, nor land¬ lordism, nor exclusion from the suffrage, that was now complained of: the one and only grievance was the existence of the English in Ireland. At first O’Connell had been just and moderate in his demands; but as his power increased, with it the nature of his requests developed. Erom Catholic emancipation he passed to reform, and when these had been granted he raised the cry of “Ireland for the Irish!” which, being interpreted, signified an Irish parlia¬ ment with a Catholic majority, and repeal of the Union. He held the balance be¬ tween parties at Westminster, and forced the Whigs to recognize the authority he swayed. If England is to govern Ireland she must rule her with the strong arm, which refuses to relax its firm hold until disaffection is stamped out. The arm of Lord Melbourne was not strong; he truckled to O’Connell; and between the Whigs and the agitator a secret treaty had been entered into, by which O’Connell pledged himself to support the government in return for the aid of the ministry in pushing forward his own pet Irish schemes. These schemes had, however, for their object more the advancement of the agitator than the pros¬ perity of Ireland. “ The Catholic church,” writes Mr. Froude, “ owed much to O’Con¬ nell; the people less than nothing. No practical good thing, not even the smallest, ever came to the Irish peasant from his glorious liberator. Emancipation and agita¬ tion might make the fortunes of patriotic orators, and make the castle tremble before the Catholic archbishops; but they drained no bogs, filled no hungry stomachs, or patched the rags in which the squalid millions were shivering: and still as the potato multiplied, the people multiplied, and beggary multiplied along with them. O’Connell cared no more for the poor than the harshest of Protestant absentees. The more millions that he could claim as behind him, the mightier he seemed. Llis own estates at Derrynane and Cahirciveen were as naked, as neglected, as sub¬ divided, as littered with ragged crowds depending on a single, root for their sub¬ sistence, as any other in the county to which he belonged.” It had so happened that when Benjamin Disraeli was contesting Wycombe for the first time, his friend Lytton Bulwer had endeavoured to obtain a letter of recom¬ mendation to the constituency for him from O’Connell, who, though a representative reformer,was not then the violent, unscrupu¬ lous demagogue he afterwards so pitifully developed into. O’Connell had courteously replied that he regretted having no acquaint¬ ance at Wycombe to whom he could recommend Mr. Disraeli. “It grieves me, therefore,” he wrote, “ to be unable to serve him on his canvass. I am as con¬ vinced as you are of the great advantage the cause of genuine reform would obtain from his return. His readiness to carry the AND HIS TIMES. 33 Reform Bill into practical effect towards the production of cheap government and free institutions is enhanced by the talent and information which he brings to the good cause. I should certainly express full reliance on his political and personal integ- \ity, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to assist in any way in procuring his return, but that, as I have told you, I have no claim on Wycombe.” These words were kind, encouraging, and in every way honourable to the writer; but the O’Connell of 1832 was a totally different man to the arrogant, vituperative bully of 1835. He had not yet been totally demoralized by the homage of the rabble, who insulted humanity by calling themselves men. When Benja¬ min Disraeli perceived the traitorous course the agitator, shortly after the Reform Bill, had entered upon, and that the O’Connell policy was hostile to the welfare of the country, he felt it incumbent upon himself, then expounding his views to a new con¬ stituency, to speak in no measured terms upon the subject. On the occasion, which has now become historical, he alluded to the strange alliance that had been effected between Lord Melbourne and the Irish tribune, and in the course of his remarks, said:—“I look upon the Whigs as a weak, but ambitious party, who can only obtain power by linking themselves with a traitor. I ought to apologise to the admirers of Mr. O’Connell, perhaps, for this hard language. I am myself his admirer, so far as his talents and abilities are concerned, but I maintain him to be a traitor.” When this speech was brought to the ears of the agitator, his anger was extreme. He was then at Dublin, carrying on his dirty business as a professional sedition- monger, and, happening at the time to address a Grades’ union meeting, he thus delivered himself of his wrath:—“Never,” he exclaimed, “in the annals of political turpitude, was there anything deserving the name of blackguardism to equal the attack of Benjamin Disraeli upon me. What is VOL. i. my acquaintance with this man ? ” he yelled. “ Just this. In 1831, or the beginning of 1832, the borough of Wycombe became vacant. I then knew him, but not person¬ ally—I knew him merely as the author of one or two novels. He got an introduction to me, and wrote me a letter stating that I was a Radical reformer, and as he was also a Radical, and was going to stand upon the Radical interest for the borough of Wy¬ combe, where he said there were many persons of that way of thinking who would be influenced by my opinion, he would feel obliged by receiving a letter from me, recommendatory of him as a Radical. His letter to me was so distinct upon the sub¬ ject, that I immediately complied with the request, and composed as good an epistle as I could in his behalf. I am in the habit of letter-writing, and Mr. Disraeli thought this letter so valuable that he not only took the autograph, but had it printed and placarded. It was, in fact, the ground upon which he canvassed the borough. He was, however, defeated, but that was not my fault. I did not demand gratitude from him; but I think if he had any feeling of his own he would conceive I had done him a civility at least, if not a service, which ought not to be repaid by atrocity of the foulest description.” Oblivious of the fact, that whereas in 1831 he was the foe of the Whigs, and was now their ally—oblivious, also, of the culpable development of his views, that whereas in 1831 he preached moderate reform, he now advocated decided revolution —O’Connell proceeded in the following strain:— “ At Taunton this miscreant had the audacity to style me an incendiary! Why, I was a greater incendiary in 1831 than I am at present, if I ever were one; and if I am, he is doubly so for having employed me. Then he calls me a traitor. My answer to this is—he is a liar. He is a liar in action and in words. His life is a living lie. He is a disgrace to his species. What state of society must that be that 5 34 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD could tolerate such a creature—having the audacity to come forward with one set of principles at one time, and obtain political assistance by reason of those principles, and at another to profess diametrically the reverse ? His life, I say again, is a living lie. He is the most degraded of his species and kind; and England is degraded in tolerat¬ ing or having upon the face of her society a miscreant of his abominable, foul, and atrocious nature. His name shows he is by descent a Jew. . . . I have the happiness of being acquainted with some Jewish fami¬ lies in London; and more accomplished ladies, or more humane, cordial, high-minded, or better-educated gentlemen, I have never met. It will not be supposed, therefore, that when I speak of Disraeli as the descen¬ dant of a Jew, that I mean to tarnish him on that account. They were once the chosen people of God. There were miscreants amongst them, however, also, and it must have certainly been from one of those that Disraeli descended. He possesses just the qualities of the impenitent thief who died upon the cross, whose name, I verily be¬ lieve, must have been Disraeli. For aught I know, the present Disraeli is descended from him, and with the impression that he is, I now forgive the heir-at-law of the blasphemous thief who died upon the cross.” This speech found its way into several newspapers, and was especially viciously approved of, and commented upon, by the Globe , then an organ attached to the interests of the Whig party. It was in the days when a man, smarting under severe insult, appealed to his sword instead of to his solicitor, and Mr. Disraeli was not slow in sending a challenge to the Irish tribune. It had so happened that in a former duel O’Connell had the misfortune to kill his man, and, like the distinguished Frenchman, Emile deGirardin, who has lately passed from us, he registered a solemn vow that under no provocation would he ever accept another challenge to mortal combat. A high-minded man under such conditions, and aware that he could not be called to account for his words, would have been more than usually careful and measured in his language when dealing with an opponent, or with matters that he strongly disapproved of; but O’Connell was, in his moral capacity, in no way supe¬ rior to the usual run of his noisy, coarse, blustering class; in his political acts there was a good deal of the knave, and in his private acts there was something of the poltroon. He refused to go out with Mr. Disraeli. His son, who had once before fought for his father, and had fired before his time, was then challenged to “resume your vicarious duties of yielding satisfac¬ tion for the insult which your father has so long lavished with impunity upon his politi¬ cal opponents.” Morgan O’Connell, however, was no fire-eater, and in a somewhat craven letter he begged to be excused. Thus de¬ barred from obtaining the satisfaction then customary in cases of this kind, Mr. Disraeli had recourse to his pen, a weapon which he no doubt wielded with greater dexterity than he would have the sword. He wrote to O’Connell, and sent a copy of the letter to the Times, a journal which at this time always inserted his correspondence. It is dated May 5, 1835, and thus it runs:— “Mr. O’Connell, “ Although you have placed yourself out of the pale of civilization, still I am one who will not be insulted, even by a Yahoo, without chastising it. When I read this morning in the same journals your virulent attack upon myself, and that your son was at the same moment paying the penalty of similar virulence to another indi¬ vidual on whom you had dropped your filth,* I thought that the consciousness that your opponents had at length discovered a source of satisfaction might have animated your insolence to unwonted energy, and I called upon your son to reassume his vicarious office of yielding satisfaction for his shrinking sire. But it seems that that gentleman declines the further exercise of the pleasing duty of enduring the consequences of your libertine * Lord Alvanley, on being freely abused by O'Connell, called the agitator a “ bloated buffoon.” Morgan O’Connell felt bound to defend his father, when the duel ensued in which the son fired too soon. 4ND HIS TIMES. 35 harangues. I have no other means, therefore, of noticing your effusion but this public mode. Listen then to me. “ If it had been possible for you to act like a gentleman, you would have hesitated before you made your foul and insolent comments upon a hasty and garbled report of a speech which scarcely contains a sentence or an expression as they eman¬ ated from my mouth ; but the truth is, you were glad to seize the first opportunity of pouring forth your venom against a man whom it serves the interest of your party to represent as a political apostate.” After severely alluding to the apostacy of O’Connell in abusing the Whigs, and then cementing an alliance with the party he had so freely denounced, the letter thus concludes :— u I admire your scurrilous allusion to my origin. It is quite clear that the ‘hereditary bondsman’ has already forgotten the clank of his fetters. I know the tactics of your church ; it clamours for toleration, and it labours for supremacy. I see that you are quite prepared to persecute. With regard to your taunts as to my want of success in my election contests, permit me to remind you that I had nothing to appeal to but the good sense of the people. No threatening skeletons canvassed for me; a death’s-head and cross-bones were not blazoned on my banners. My pecuniary resources, too, were limited; I am not one of those public beggars that we see swarming with their obtrusive boxes in the chapels of your creed, nor am I in possession of a princely revenue wrung from a starving race of fanatical slaves. Nevertheless, I have a deep conviction that the hour is at hand when I shall be more successful, and take my place in that proud assembly of which Mr. O’Connell avows his wish no longer to be a member. I expect to be a Representative of the people before the Repeal of the Union. We shall meet at Philippi; and rest assured that, confident in a cause, and in some energies which have been not altogether unproved, I will seize the first oppor¬ tunity of inflicting upon you a castigation which will make you at the same time remember and repent the insults that you have lavished upon “ Benjamin DTsraeli.” The next step of the writer was to con¬ tradict the mis-statements that had got abroad, and, notably, to refute the garbled and mischievous construction put upon the affair by the Globe newspaper. Again, he took into his confidence the columns of the leading journal. It is necessary, he wrote, owing to the false reports that had been circulated, to enter into some detail with regard to the controversy between himself and Mr. O’Connell, and especially with re¬ gard to the misconstructions adopted by the Globe. He emphatically denied the truth of any of the statements made by the Irish tribune. He held the same political opinions now as he had advanced when first he contested High Wycombe. He did not require Mr. O’Connell’s recommendation, or that of any one else for the borough, the suffrages of whose electors he had the honour to solicit. His family resided in the neighbourhood; he stood alike on local influ¬ ence and distinctly avowed principles, and he opposed the son of the prime minister. He was absent from England during the discussion on the Reform Bill, and, on his return, the bill was virtually, though not formally, passed. “I found the nation,” he writes, “in terror of a rampant democracy; I saw only an impending oligarchy. I found the House of Commons packed, and the in¬ dependence of the House of Lords announced as terminated. I recognized a repetition of the same oligarchical coups d’etat from which we had escaped by a miracle little more than a century before; therefore I determined, to the utmost of my power, to oppose the Whigs. Why, then, it may be asked, did I not join the Tories? Because I found the Tories in a state of ignorant stupefaction. The Whigs had assured them that they were annihilated, and they believed them. They had not a single definite or intelligible idea as to their position and their duties, or the character of their party. They were haunted with a nervous apprehension of that great bugbear, ‘ the people ’—that bewildering title under which a miserable minority contrives to coerce and plunder the nation. They were ignorant that the millions of the nation required to be guided and encouraged, and that they were that nation’s natural leaders, bound to marshal and to enlighten them. The Tories trembled at a coming 36 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD anarchy: what they had to apprehend was a rigid tyranny. They fancied themselves on the eve of a reign of terror, when they were about to sink under the sovereignty of a Council of Ten. The Tories in 1832 were avowedly no longer a practical party; they had no system and no object; they were passive and forlorn. They took their seats in the House of Commons after the Reform Act as the senate in the forum, when the city was entered by the Gauls, only to die.” He was desirous of obtaining a seat in parliament to combat the machin¬ ations of the Whigs; his principles were those having for their end the fusion of aristocracy with democracy; on his com¬ mittee were Tories as well as Radicals, and he candidly admitted that he asked the aid of both to bear him on to victory. “And now, sir,” he proceeds, “for Mr. O’Connell. Mr. O’Connell in 1832 was in a very different situation to Mr. O’Connell in 1833. The Globe , which historically informs us that in 1832 I was to become a member of Mr. O’Connell’s tail, forgets that at that period Mr. O’Connell had no tail, for this was pre¬ vious to the first general election after the Reform Act. Mr. O’Connell was not then an advocate for the dismemberment of the empire, the destruction of the church, and the abolition of the House of Lords. His lips overflowed with patriotism, with almost Protestant devotion to the establishment, with almost English admiration for the con¬ stitution. Our contest at Wycombe was a very warm one—every vote was an object. A friend of mine, interested in my success, knowing that I was supported by that portion of the constituency styled Radical, applied to Mr. O’Connell and Mr. Hume, with whom he was intimately acquainted, to know whether they had any influence in Wycombe, and requested them to exer¬ cise it in my favour. They had none, and they expressed their regret in letters to this gentleman, who forwarded them to me at Wycombe, and my committee, con¬ sisting of as many Tories as Radicals, printed them.” Their support was accorded to him, not because they as Tories or Radicals had en¬ tirely agreed w 7 ith him in all his opinions, but because they were united on the one vital question—hostility to the Whig in¬ terest. It had been asserted that he stood on Radical principles at High Wycombe; if so, why, he asks, did the Whigs oppose him as a Tory ? He frankly avowed that he had advocated triennial parliaments and vote by ballot, because he then was of opinion that the only way to shatter the power of the Whigs was by frequent appeals to the country, and by preventing them from “ exercising a usurious influence, over the petty tradesmen who are their slaves and their victims” in the number of little towns the late Reform Bill had enfranchised. But the Whigs had now fallen to pieces; the balance of parties had been restored; and since it was no longer necessary to advocate the measures he had formerly advanced, he had allowed himself to abandon them. Still, it was false to assert that he had changed his principles. He held the same views at Taunton as he had at Wycombe. “I came forward on that occasion,” he writes, “on precisely the same principles on which I had offered myself at Wycombe, but my situation was different. I was no longer an independent and isolated member of the political world. I had felt it my duty to become an earnest partizan. The Tory party had in this interval roused itself from its lethargy; it had profited by adversity; it had regained not a little of its original character and primary spirit; it had come to remember or to discover that it was the national party of the country; it recognized its duty to place itself at the head of the nation; it possessed the patriotic principles of Sir William Wyndham and Lord Bolingbroke, in whose writings I have ever recognized the most pure and the profoundest sources of political and constitutional wisdom; under the guidance of an eloquent and able leader the principles of primitive Toryism had again developed themselves, AND HIS TIMES. 37 and the obsolete associations which form no portion of that great patriotic scheme had been effectually discarded.” Mr. Disraeli failed, however, to be more successful at Taunton than he had been on the three previous occasions at Wycombe; he was defeated by Mr. Labouchere by a large majority. Such is the history of the memorable O’Connell episode, to which allusion has so frequently been made in the course of Lord Beaconsfield’s career. In the dispute, to our mind, no blame can be attached to the proceedings pursued by Mr. Disraeli. He held the views both of a Tory and a reformer, and he sought the support of Mr. Hume, Mr. Bulwer, and the agitator, to help him with the democratic party, as he sought the aid of the Duke of Chandos to assist him with the aristocratic party. The one broad ground he stood upon was hostility to the Whigs; if it can be shown that, whilst essaying to effect a fusion with the Tories and the Beformers, he was pan¬ dering to the policy of the Whigs—as O’Connell afterwards pandered—then most certainly he can be charged with inconsis¬ tency and apostacy. But throughout his whole political career, both in the House of Commons and in the House of Lords, the late leader of the Conservative party was the steadfast opponent of Whig principles and practices. Throughout his whole poli¬ tical career he was a Tory, and yet one who believed in the power and development of the working classes. His creed was ever the union of Toryism and Democracy to repel Whiggism, and the selfish and short¬ sighted policy of the middle classes. But even if it had been as his enemies allege, which is not the case, that Mr. Disraeli had advanced opinions in his youth which his maturer experience had called upon him to change or modify, is that so heinous and unusual an offence in political life? When we reflect upon Mr. Disraeli’s whole parlia¬ mentary career—his undoubted patriotism, his generosity, when leader of the Opposi¬ tion, to the government of the day, his far-seeing policy, the beneficial measures he introduced; and then to have arrayed against these deeds of a brilliant past, the alleged inconsistencies of hot youth, which malice has raked up from the dust of forgetfulness—such charges really become too ludicrous for grave consideration! It is as if, when sailing on the bosom of some majestic river, a man were to look for flecks of mud, and disparage the stream because it was said to have its rise in some hidden, turbid rivulet. Happily the fierce light of hate can beat upon the public life of Lord Beacons- field, and fail to find there the faults, the compromises, the tergiversations of many of his predecessors. He never sup¬ ported a measure when in power, and thwarted it when in opposition, as did Sir Bobert Walpole when he entered upon his course of factious antagonism to Stanhope. He never appealed to a prime minister for preferment, and then, when refused, veered round and bitterly attacked the man he had petitioned, as did the first Pitt, when the great minister of peace declined to give him office. No sarcastic speaker could point to him as sitting on the same bench with men whom he had previ¬ ously denounced, and whose policy he had disapproved of, as Pitt had pointed to Henry Pox, when he united with Newcastle, or as Cobden had pointed to Bernal Osborne, when he took his seat by the side of his “boa-constrictor” friend, Sir James Graham. He never agreed to serve under a man upon whose political actions he had at one time poured out all the vials of his wrathful indignation, as had Charles James Pox when he served under North, unlike— “ The rugged Thurlow, who with sullen scowl, In surly mood at friend and foe will growl; Of proud prerogative the stern support,” he never intrigued with the enemy to keep him in office. He never behaved to any man as the Duke of Wellington behaved to Canning. He never acted towards any measure he had once supported as Peel 38 THE EAEL OF BEACONSFIELD acted towards the cause of protection. He was never accused, as Lord Palmerston was accused, of ignoring the control of the crown as to the supervision of official cor¬ respondence. Nor was he ever charged, as had been Lord Melbourne and the late Lord Derby, with a culpable indifference to the business of public affairs. Still if it were true—which it is not—that Mr. Disraeli began life as a Radical, and then went over to the enemy, is he the only man who has changed his political faith? Did not Charles James Fox begin as a Tory and end as the leader of the great Whig party ? How often did the Duke of Wellington alter his opinions ? How often did Sir Robert Peel alter his opinions ? Was not Canning brought up under Whig protection, and did he not commence his parliamentary life as the adherent of Pitt ? We know what the wits said of him at Brookes’—- “ The turning of coats so common is grown, That no one would think to attack it; But no case until now was so flagrantly known Of a schoolboy turning his jacket” Was not Mr. Stanley a reformer, yet was not the late Earl of Derby the leader of theTory party ? Did not Lord Palmerston begin life as a Tory and then cross over to the Liberal benches ? Did not the late Lord Lytton begin life as a Radical, and then end as a Conservative ? Was not Sir Francis Burdett a Radical who afterwards became a Tory? And pray, we ask the question without implying anything offen¬ sive, what has been the career of him whom Macaulay described as “ the rising hope ” of stern, unbending Toryism ? The fact is, the study of political bio¬ graphy makes large calls upon the charity of our human nature, and, unless we feel ourselves capable of generously meeting these demands, we shall do wisely to aban¬ don the subject altogether. We should not pay heed to the hot indignation of opposi¬ tion, for it has as often happened as not that when the opposition has comfortably settled itself upon the Treasury benches, what once excited its ire excites it no longer, and we see opponents content to pursue a not very dissimilar policy to that which, under less favourable circumstances, has met with their sternest disapproval. We should judge of a party, not by its views when out of office, for the simple fact that it is out of office, but by its conduct when in power. We should look kindly upon the inconsistencies of youthful political ambition, and upon its struggles, which may not, perhaps, always bear a close ex¬ amination, to push itself through the crowd —reserving our judgment and the severity of our morality for a later date, when the aspirant has developed into the statesman. Remembering human nature, we should be more prone to forget, than to eternally re¬ call, the unsavoury dealings of men desirous of entering parliament, or the intrigues practised by eager partizans to obtain office, and content ourselves with limiting our criticism to the conduct of such men, when they have once become enrolled as legis¬ lators, or have taken the oaths as advisers of the crown. We must be satisfied with viewing the race, and not watch too narrowly the details of the training. Again, thwarted in his political ambition, Benjamin Disraeli once more turned his steps to the forsaken shrine of literature. Late in the year 1835, he published the pamphlet upon which he had been long engaged, and from which we have already, quoted, entitled, “ A Vindication of the English Constitution, in a Letter to a Noble and Learned Lord.” The peer thus ad¬ dressed was Lord Lyndhurst, who was quick to discern the great abilities of the young man, and between whom and the future statesman a warm friendship now subsisted. The objects of the pamphlet w T ere to ex¬ pound political philosophy, as opposed to the utilitarian views of Jeremy Bentham and his school, and to defend Tory opinions from many of the misconceptions with which they were surrounded. Readers of “ Coningsby ” and “ Sybil ” will find in the pages of this brilliant constitutional treatise AND HIS TIMES. 39 many of the theories and tenets with which they are familiar; that the monarchy should rest upon a democracy, the crown upon the people, each strengthening the other with¬ out the control of parliament ; and that the personal power of the monarch should be the centre of our political system, restoring the authority and prerogative of the crown, weakened and restrained by parliamentary encroachments. We have the well-known attacks upon the Whigs, who sought to reduce the English monarch to the charac¬ ter of a Venetian doge, and to exchange the divine right of kings for the divine right of nobles. We listen to the oft-recurring arguments as to the exact position of the House of Commons in the framework of the constitution. It is not the house of the people, nor are its members the repre¬ sentatives of the people: it is “ an estate of the realm, and the members of the House of Commons represent that estate.” “ We know,” writes the author, “what happened to the country in the turbulent days before the Kestoration, when the lower house, ceasing to be an estate, degenerated into an assem¬ bly of delegates of the people, and arrogantly declared that ‘ the people are the origin of all just power,’ and that * whatever is declared to be law by the House of Com¬ mons hath the force of law without the consent of the king or the House of Peers.’ Never was tyranny more severe and exact¬ ing than when England was ruled by the people. It was ‘ the people ’ who estab¬ lished courts more infamous than the Star Chamber, who, to gratify their own petty revenge, seized upon such property as they desired, who cruelly tortured all whom they considered malignant, who opposed that great bulwark of our liberties—trial by jury —who introduced the excise, who raised the taxation of the country from £800,000 a-year to £7,000,000 a-year; and who, indeed, so harshly, so mischievously, and so incompetently ruled the country, that in order to free herself from f the people she took refuge in the arms of a military despot.” Such was the condition of the nation when governed by a “ vulgar and ignoble oligarchy.” Having shown that to be ruled by the divine right of the House of Commons is the most per¬ nicious of all the various forms of control, the writer proceeds to argue in favour of the hereditary principle of the House of Lords, and arrives at the conclusion that such a chamber is “suited to the genius of the country, in harmony with all its poli¬ tical establishments, and founded not only on an intimate acquaintance with the national character, but a profound know¬ ledge of human nature in general.” Then dealing with the question of the two great parties into which English political warfare is divided, Mr. Disraeli contends for his favourite theory that the Tory party is essentially the national and democratic party, whilst the Whigs must always be the exclusive and aristocratic party; and here he boldly avows that since 1831 the political power of the Tories has only been maintained “ by a series of democratic measures of the greatest importance and most comprehensive character.” This state¬ ment affords him an opportunity to pass a high eulogium upon the character of his great political hero, Lord Bolingbroke. In the early part of the eighteenth century, the Tory party required re-organization; “and as it is in the nature of human affairs,” writes Mr. Disraeli, “that the individual that is required shall not long be wanting, so in the season of which I am treating, arose a man remarkable in an illustrious age, who, with the splendour of an organiz¬ ing genius, settled the confused and dis- cordant materials of English faction, and reduced them into a clear and systematic order. This was Lord Bolingbroke. Giited with that fiery imagination, the teeming fertility of whose inventive resources is as necessary to a great statesman or a great general, as to a great poet, the ablest writer and the most accomplished orator of his age, that rare union that in a country of free parliaments and a free press, insures to its possessor the privilege of exercising a 40 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELL constant influence over the mind of his country, that rare union that has rendered Burke so memorable; blending with that intuitive knowledge of his race which crea¬ tive minds alone enjoy, all the wisdom which can be derived from literature, and a comprehensive experience of human affairs; no one was better qualified to be the min¬ ister of a free and powerful nation than Henry St. John; and destiny at first appeared to combine with nature in the elevation of his fortunes. “ Opposed to the Whigs from principle, for an oligarchy is hostile to genius, and recoiling from the Tory tenets, which his unprejudiced and vigorous mind taught him at the same time to dread and to contemn, Lord Bolingbroke at the outset of his career incurred the common-place imputation of insincerity and inconsistency, because in an age of unsettled parties, with princi¬ ples contradictory of their conduct, he maintained that vigilant and meditative independence which is the privilege of an original and determined spirit. In the earlier years of his career he meditated over the formation of a new party—that dream of youthful ambition in a perplexed and discordant age, but destined in English politics to be never more substantial than a vision. More experienced in political life* he became aware that he had only to choose between the Whigs and the Tories; and his sagacious intellect, not satisfied with the superficial character of these celebrated divisions, penetrated their interior and essential qualities, and discovered, in spite of all the affectation of popular sympathy on one side, and of admiration of arbitrary power on the other, that this choice was in fact a choice between oligarchy and demo¬ cracy. From the moment that Lord Boling¬ broke, in becoming a Tory, embraced the national cause, he devoted himself absolutely to his party : all the energies of his Protean mind were lavished in their service; and although the ignoble prudence of the Whig minister restrained him from advocating the cause of the nation in the senate, it was his inspiring pen that made Walpole tremble in the recesses of the treasury, and in a series of writings unequalled in our lit¬ erature for their spirited patriotism, their just and profound views, and the golden eloquence in which they are expressed, eradicated from Toryism all those absurd and odious doctrines which Toryism had ad¬ ventitiously adopted, clearly developed its essential and permanent character, discarded jure divino, demolished passive obedience, threw to the winds the doctrine of non- resistance, placed the abolition of James and the accession of George on their right basis, and in the complete re-organization of the public mind, laid the foundation for the future accession of the Tory party to power, and to that popular and triumphant career which must ever await the policy of an administration inspired by the spirit of our free and ancient institutions.” This eloquent passage naturally suggests a comparison between the two men. Like Bolingbroke, Mr. Disraeli was the consistent foe of the Whigs. Like Bolingbroke, “he meditated over the formation of a new party,” he made his choice “between oli¬ garchy and democracy,” and, devoting “ all the energies of his Protean mind,” he laid the foundation for the future accession of the Tory party to power. Like Boling¬ broke, he was gifted with “the splendour of an organizing genius,” a “ fiery imagina¬ tion,” and a brain teeming with “ inventive resources.” What Bolingbroke did for the Tory party in his own day, so did Mr. Dis¬ raeli after the repeal of the Corn Laws; he “ settled the confused and discordant mater¬ ials of English faction, and reduced them into a clear and systematic order.” Boling¬ broke was brought up as a Dissenter, Mr. Disraeli as a Jew; yet both men were staunch supporters of the Anglican Church, and firmly upheld the necessity of the union between Church and State. Both men were animated by the keenest desire for the welfare of England; and their sense of patriotism ever caused them to keep a vigilant eye upon the machinations of the AND HIS TIMES. 41 enemv. As Bolingbroke watched the move- ments of Spain, so did Lord Beaconsfield watch the movements of Russia. The parallel is, however, happily not complete —there is nothing in the career of Mr. Disraeli to suggest a comparison with the intrigues set on foot by Bolingbroke when out of office; and the ending of the two men is very different, the one going down to .his grave soured, disheartened, and discredited: the other honoured, trusted, and in the full glory of his power and popularity. In these days when men are seeking to dismember the empire, and to praise repub¬ lican institutions at the expense of our own constitution, we shall do wisely to remember the grand words with which Mr. Disraeli concludes his letter to Lord Lyndhurst.* "If neither ancient ages,” he writes, “ nor the more recent experience of our newer time, can supply us with a parallel instance of a free government, founded on the broad¬ est basis of popular rights, yet combining with democratic liberty aristocratic secu¬ rity and monarchical convenience; if the refined spirit of Greece—if the great Roman soul—if the brilliant genius of feudal Italy —alike failed in realizing this great result, let us cling with increased devotion to the matchless creation of our ancestors, and honour, with still deeper feelings of grati¬ tude and veneration, the English constitu¬ tion. That constitution, my lord, established civil equality in a rude age, and anticipated by centuries in its beneficent practice the sublime theories of modem philosophy; having made us equal, it has kept us free. If it has united equality with freedom, so also it has connected freedom with glory. It has established an empire, which com¬ bines the durability of Rome with the * It is a matter of some surprise that this pamphlet has not been republished. It is now very scarce, indeed, so scarce, that the only copy I could find was in the British Museum. Our National Library does not, however, appear to think very highly of the work, since it does not honour it with a separate existence, but binds it up with a volume of inferior and uninteresting essays. There are passages in the “ Vindication of the English Constitution ” as novel and brilliant as anything that Mr. Disraeli ever wrote. I adventure of Carthage. It has, at the same time, secured us the most skilful agriculture, the most extended commerce, the most ingenious manufactures, victorious armies, and invincible fleets. Nor has the intel¬ lectual might of England, under its fostering auspices, been less distinguished than its imperial spirit, its manly heart, or its national energy. The authors of England have formed the mind of Europe, and stamped the breathing impression of their genius on the vigorous character of a new world. Under that constitution the administration of jus¬ tice has become so pure, that its exercise has realized the dreams of some Utopian romance. That constitution has struggled successfully with the Papacy, and finally, and for the first time, proved the compati¬ bility of sectarian toleration and national orthodoxy. It has made private ambition conducive to public welfare, it has baffled the machinations of factions and of parties; and when those more violent convulsions have arisen, from whose periodic visitations no human institutions can be exempt, the English constitution has survived the moral earthquake and outlived the mental hurri¬ cane, and been sedulous that the natural course of our prosperity should only be disturbed and not destroyed. Finally, it has secured for every man the career to which he is adapted, and the reward to which he is entitled ; it has summoned your lordship to preside over courts and parliaments, to maintain law by learning, and to recommend wisdom by eloquence; and it has secured to me, in common with every subject of this realm, a right—the enjoyment of which I would not exchange for— ‘ The ermined stole, The starry breast and coroneted brow,’— the right of expressing my free thoughts to a free people.” The Melbourne government, under its sauntering, easy-going premier, was pur¬ suing the tenour of its way, by blundering in its various attempts at legislation, and irritating all classes which wanted their 6 VOL. I. 42 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD special interests to be effectively dealt with. Another Junius was now to appear on the scene and pass in review the characters in, and the measures of, the cabinet. During the first months of the year 1836 there ap¬ peared in the Times newspaper a series of letters signed “Runnymede.” These stinging epistles have never been publicly acknow¬ ledged by the late Lord Beaconsfield; but there can be little doubt as to whom their authorship is due. Their literary finish, the keenness of their sarcasm, their cutting invective, their wit, their smartness, all reveal the author of “ Coningsby ” and “ Sybil,” and the politician who illumined many a dreary debate by those trenchant personalities which hit off a character in a phrase, or summed up a measure in an epigram. From the full quiver of these “ Runnymede Letters ” let us select a few barbed shafts. As head of the cabinet, Lord Melbourne is the chief target, and certainly the broad surface he presents for hostile criticism is not spared. He has “ sauntered away the destinies of a nation, and lounged away the glory of an empire;” he is incapable of rousing himself from “the embraces of that siren Desidia,” to whose fatal influences he is no less a slave than was our second Charles; as a minister he is useless, let him therefore be dis¬ missed, and find an asylum in the gardens of Hampton Court, “where he might saunter away the remaining years of his now ludi¬ crous existence, sipping the last novel of Paul de Kock whilst lounging over a sun¬ dial.” As was the prime minister, so were his colleagues. Lord John Russell, the author of the “ feeblest tragedy in our lan¬ guage,” the “ feeblest romance in our literature,” and the “ feeblest political essay on record,” has had the misfortune to be born “ with a strong ambition and a weak intellect.” If a foreigner were told that such a man was the leader of the House of Commons, he might then under¬ stand “ how the Egyptians worshipped an insect.” Lord Brougham had directed many a bitter attack against Mr. Disraeli, his speeches, and his works; he was now in his turn to feel the lash. “ I am informed that your lordship,” writes Runnymede, “ is occupied in a translation of your treatise of c Natural Theology ’ into German on the Hamiltonian system. The translation of a work on a subject of which you know little into a tongue of which you know nothing, seems the climax of those fantastic freaks of ambitious superficiality which our lively neighbours describe by a finer term than ‘ quackery/ ” Lord Palmerston, the dandy of the cabinet, is called “the Sporus of politics, cajoling France with an airy compliment, and menacing Russia with a perfumed cane; ” he is “ the Lord Fanny of diplomacy ” and the “ great Apollo of aspiring understrappers; ” he has “ the smartness of an attorney’s clerk and the intrigues of a Greek of the Lower Empire he reminds one “ of a favourite footman on easy terms with his mistress,” and his sense of political honour is thus summed up, “You owe the Whigs great gratitude, my lord, and therefore I think you will betray them.” The measures of the cabinet natu¬ rally come in for their share of abuse. Whiggery is the mighty dragon “depopulat¬ ing our fields, wasting our pleasant places, poisoning our fountains, and menacing our civilization.” But its end is nigh at hand, “ the reign of delusion is about to close.” “The man who obtains property by false pretences is transported. Is the party that obtains power by the same means to be saved harmless ? Lord Melbourne has established a new colony in Australia; it wants settlers. Let the cabinet emigrate; in the antipodes they will find a home suited to their tastes and characters. The land where the rivers are salt; where the quadrupeds have fins and the fish feet; where everything is confused, discordant, and irregular, is indicated by Providence as the fitting scene of Whig government.” In marked contrast to this bitter badin¬ age is the tribute paid by the writer to the position and character of Sir Robert Peel. The Melbourne government, by its incom- AND HIS TIMES. 43 potency, and the tenacity with which it clung to office, had disgusted all classes. “ Never,” cried Lord Lyndhurst, addressing his brother peers, “was the state of busi¬ ness in the other house of parliament in the situation in which it was at present— never did a government so neglect so im¬ portant a part of its duty, that which it had to discharge in parliament, as the govern¬ ment had done during the last five months. The noble viscount [Melbourne] and his colleagues were utterly powerless. They were powerless alike in that and the other house; they were utterly inefficient and incompetent as servants of the crown; and he must add, also, they were equally power¬ less, incapable, and inefficient as regarded the people.” But in proportion as Lord Melbourne had lost the favour of the court, the support of the House of Commons, and the confidence of the country, Sir Bobert Peel had risen in the opinion of all classes. He was regarded as “ the coming man.” “ In your chivalry alone,” writes the author of the “Runnymede” epistles, “is our hope. Clad in the panoply of your splendid talents and your spotless character, we feel assured that you will subdue this unnatural and unnational monster, and that we may yet see sedition, and treason, and rapine, rampant as they may have of late figured, quail before your power and prowess.” A comparison is then instituted between Peel, who at once resigned when he saw he was O putting in jeopardy the royal prerogative, and Melbourne, who remained in power in spite of all his past blunders and misman¬ agement. “What a contrast,” exclaims “Run- nymede,” “ does the administration of Sir Robert Peel afford to that of Lord Mel¬ bourne ! No selfish views, no family aggrandizement, no family jobs, no nepo¬ tism ! Contrast the serene retirement of Drayton and the repentant solitude of Howick! Contrast the statesman cheered after his factious defeat by the sympathy of a nation with the coroneted Necker, the worn-out Machiavelli, wringing his helpless hands over his heart in remorseful despair, and looking up with a sigh at his scowling- ancestors ! Never did Pitt, in the plenitude of his power, enjoy more cordial confidence than that now extended to Sir Robert Peel by every section of the Conservative party. Then, at the head of his united following, let him go forward and rout the Whig camp, already harassed by its divided interests and intestine jealousies.” “ We look to you,” appeals “ Runnymede,” “ with hope and confidence; you have a noble duty to fulfil: let it be nobly done. You have a great task to execute: achieve it with a great spirit. Rescue your sovereign from an unconstitutional thraldom—rescue an august senate, which has already fought the battle of the people—rescue our national church, which your opponents hate—our venerable constitution, at which they scoff; but above all, rescue that mighty body of which all these great classes and institu¬ tions are but some of the constituent and essential parts—rescue the Nation.” Shortly after the appearance of these severe strictures in the leading journal of the day, Mr. Disraeli published the novel which is, perhaps, the favourite among the fair sex of all his works. The border line between the sublime and the ridiculous is, v T e know, very fine; but in the love story of “ Henrietta Temple,” the sentiment, though sometimes carried to a dangerous extreme, never sinks into the foolish or the contemptible. It enjoys the reputation of being the most perfect love tale in our language; the passion is fervid without coarseness, the hero is tender without effeminacy, whilst the heroine responds to the ardour of her suitor without ever de¬ generating into mawkishness or sickly gush It is almost the only love story of pure affec¬ tion which men read or care to read. The object of its author is “to trace the develop¬ ment of that passion that is at once the principle and the end of our existence r that passion compared to whose delights all the other gratifications of our nature— wealth, and pow r er, and fame—sink into insignificance; and which, nevertheless, by 44 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD the ineffable beneficence of our Creator, are open to His creatures of all conditions, qualities, and climes.” In this romance we perceive the influences of his foreign origin upon the author. An Englishman would not have dared to write such a book; the fear of ridicule would have ever been before his eyes, paralyzing his passion, and causing his rhapsodies to sink into bathos. He would no more have written “ Henri¬ etta Temple” than he would, Teuton-like, indulge in the promptings of affection in public. A Frenchman would have turned the love passages into impropriety, or have marred them by a repellent artificiality. A German would have composed the tale after the teaching of his sentimental school, and when he did not excite laughter by his imbecility, would have wearied by his dull¬ ness. But the Semitic instincts—for the Hebrew is sprung from a race as full of passion and poetry as the Celt, yet with all the respect of the Teuton for domestic purity, whilst his egotism and self-reliance render him often somewhat impervious to the fear of ridicule—came to the aid of Mr. Disraeli in the composition of this work, and made him passionate without sensuality, imaginative without improba¬ bility, and affectionate without extrava¬ gance. “Venetia” soon followed “Henrietta Temple.” It has for its central thought the intense love of a daughter for her unknown father, and reproduces many of the incidents that occurred in the lives of Byron and Shelley. There is little plot in the story; but as a study of character it is one of the most thoughtful and best worked-out of all the novels of the author. And now, once more, was Mr. Disraeli to essay to enter the parliamentary arena: this time to have his efforts crowned with success. William the Fourth, after a brief illness, had passed into the “eternal silence,” and according to the constitutional custom when a new sovereign ascends the throne, a general election ensued. An opportunity offered itself to Mr. Disraeli to contest Maidstone. The borough possessed two seats ; Mr. Wyndham Lewis, the senior member, and a stout Tory, was exceedingly popular, and his. return was assured; his colleague, however, was a Whig, and much disliked in the town. Mr. Disraeli was asked to stand as the second Tory candi¬ date, and he at once hurried into Kent to meet the constituency. His address was issued on the same lines as his previous ones delivered at High Wycombe and Taunton. He announced himself as “ an uncompromising adherent to the ancient constitution, which was once the boast of our fathers, and is still the blessing of their children;” he was convinced that “the reformed religion, as by law established in this country, is at the same time the best guarantee for religious toleration and ortho¬ dox purity;” he would “watch with vigi¬ lant solicitude over the fortunes of the British farmer,” since he sincerely believed that “ his welfare is the surest and most permanent basis of general prosperity;” he was in favour of the abolition of church rates, provided he could see his way to some substitute; he opposed the harsh adminis¬ tration of the poor-law, since relief was not a matter of charity, but of right, to the poor deprived by the great families of the mon¬ astic lands; and as at Wycombe, so at Taunton, and so now at Maidstone, he maintained the same views he had always advocated. “ Here I am, gentlemen,” he said, “ filling the same place, preaching the same doctrine, and supporting the same institutions as I did at High Wycombe.” His opponent was Colonel Perronet Thomp¬ son, the author of the “ Corn-law Cate¬ chism,” and a former proprietor of the Radical Westminster Beview. The con¬ test was actively carried on by both sides; but the influence of the popular Mr. Wyndham Lewis made itself felt in favour of his new colleague, and the ultimate victory of Mr. Disraeli was never in doubt. Mr. Robarts, the disliked member, who had represented Maidstone in the Whig interest in seven successive parliaments, anticipated the ver¬ dict of the constituency, and retired before AND IIIS TIMES. 45 the nomination day. At a late hour on the polling day a fourth candidate, a Mr. Perry, was started, with no other result, however, than to render himself supremely ridiculous. When the votes were counted up, it was seen that Maidstone had declared itself with no uncertain voice against the Whig government. At the close of the poll, the numbers were :—Lewis, 782 ; Disraeli, 6G8 ; Thompson, 529; and the redoubtable Perry, 25. The career of Mr. Disraeli is that of a man j who was never suppressed by defeat, who was never disheartened by failure. Many a man anxious to embrace parliamentary honours would, after the frequent rejections Mr. Disraeli had received, have retired from the struggle in disgust, and have abandoned all ideas of a life in the House of Commons. Hot so the future Earl of Beaconsfield. He worked, he watched, he waited, and at last his patience was rewarded by being returned as one of the Conservative members for Maidstone. CHAPTER III. IN THE HOUSE. During the present generation the House of Commons, owing to the development of the reforms that have been effected in its constitution, has lost many of the charac¬ teristics which it formerly possessed. It is now a practical, business-like, but, it must be confessed, a somewhat dull assembly. The elements of youth and wit are con¬ spicuous by their absence, whilst municipal eloquence and vestry-like personalities reign in their stead. Before the abolition of nomination boroughs, a young man of great ability—like the second Pitt, Canning, Macaulay, and others—was taken by the hand by some powerful minister, and launched upon a parliamentary career in the easiest and most inexpensive fashion. The leaders of the great parties, who swayed the opinions of parliament, were always on the watch for talent that might serve their political ends. Many a young man by his clever speeches at the debating-club of his university, by a happy pamphlet, or by a bitter and opportune squib, found himself safelv seated on the green benches of the House of Commons as the representative of a borough in the hands of a powerful lord or of a large-acred squire, without his elec¬ tion having cost him more than the issue of his address or the delivery of a few speeches before a sympathetic audience. Commerce had not then assumed the high position it now occupies, nor had the banker’s book usurped the influence of the pedigree chart. The lower house was, in a large measure, filled by the representatives of the landed gentry, who knew little of science or the laws of political economy, but who shuddered if they heard a false quantity, and piqued themselves that they were as familiar with the classics as a priest is with his breviary. A few merchants of the highest class, a few successful lawyers, a few Irish, then as now not held in much esteem, and several clever young men who were the little deities of their university, completed the list. The constitution of such an assembly, though it might not offer the same scope as now exists for the exercise of those talents which espe¬ cially appeal to what Mr. Disraeli called the “ parochial mind,” yet afforded every opportunity for the display of culture. A classical and a literary flavour penetrated the parliamentary eloquence of those days. A speech delivered in the House was a solemn undertaking, and not to be lightly entered upon; its periods were carefully rehearsed; its matter was introduced and dismissed in stately terms worthy of the occasion; the gestures and attitudes of the speaker were studied with a Chatliam-like view to effect; whilst his words were listened to by an assembly which never forgot, even in the most feverish times of party heat, that it represented the gentry of England. Then on the following day the details brought forward were fully reported and discussed in the leading journals. Elo¬ quence was thus the most powerful weapon that could be wielded in parliamentary war¬ fare, and it consequently became the favourite and most cultivated of all studies. To be a showy speaker or a ready debater, no matter how incorrect or superficial the sentiments expressed, was to be on the high road to the cabinet; whilst the erudite and the thinker, who could never address a few words to the Speaker without confusion, were completely ignored. The Reform Bills and the development of the newspaper press have, however, ushered in a new state of things. The abolition of THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. 47 pocket-boroughs has rendered it impossible for clever but impecunious youth to obtain a seat in parliament. The competition that arises upon every vacancy in the House of Commons, and the rigid measure now most properly dealt out to those guilty of bribery and corruption, make it a matter of neces¬ sity at the present day for the candidate for parliamentary honours to be not only a rich man, but one who has also long been courting the favours of a constituency. Those who derive their wealth from indus¬ try seldom have attained to fortune till past middle age, and consequently the House of Commons will become more and more the assembly of elderly men; in other words, more grave, more practical, more dull. From its wealth, from its social ambition, and from its business habits, the mercantile element must always be a prominent fea¬ ture in the lower house; and when men, often deprived in their youth of the advan¬ tages of education, betake themselves late in life to a new calling, tliev have little sympathy with the charms and graces of a cultivated eloquence: with them it is only so much verbiage interfering with “ busi- ness.” Again, owing to the extension of the franchise, members have been returned to parliament who, under less happy cir¬ cumstances, could never have hoped to have had a seat in that assembly—men who, regarding themselves as the representatives of the masses, do all in their power, by their bigoted ignorance, their spiteful class-hate, and their offensive maintenance of the pre¬ judices they call ideas, to prove themselves worthy of their constituencies. The squire, the successful lawyer, and the naval or military officer, will always have his place in the House of Commons; but in¬ stead of being, as he once was, the House itself, he is now only an element in it, and an element which every session will more and more have to retire to the background. By such a body of men—shrewd, hard, econo¬ mical, practical, and with the education of the academy rather than of the university— oratory is an influence little felt. A speech now in the House of Commons—save by one of its leading members—is no great event- Before it has been delivered, its matter has been discounted by the newspapers; it is listened to with impatience; and the next morning is but curtly alluded to in the principal journals. To be active on com¬ mittees; to know your subject thoroughly, however badly, even ungrammatically, such knowledge may be expressed; to be the possessor of a sound common sense—are now of far more use in advancing a politi¬ cian to office, than all the eloquence of a Bolingbroke, or the brilliancy of a Canning. Oratory, like poetry, requires an audience for its creation and cultivation; where it has no audience, it perishes. During the last forty years parliament has seen only two great orators arise who were not within its walls at the date of the Maidstone election. These remarks fail to apply to the House of Commons in which Mr. Disraeli first took his seat. Seldom has such an array of talent been presented as was to be found in the popular chamber at St. Stephen’s in the session of 1837- On the treasury bench sat the able and versatile Lord John Russell, the leader of the Whig party in the House of Commons, and who then held the seals as secretary of state for the home depart¬ ment. Hear him was the foreign secretary. Lord Palmerston, the popular man of fashion, ready in debate, witty in retort, but who had not as yet given promise of the statesmanship he was afterwards to display. The polished Lord Morpeth, who held office as chief secretary for Ireland, and Spring Rice, the chancellor of the exchequer, w T ere also occupants of the ministerial bench. Among the supporters of the government were Lytton Bulwer, the poet and novelist, then a Radical of the most pronounced type; the courteous and fluent Lord Leveson; the dandy Sir William Molesworth, the forerunner of the philosophical Radical; “honest Tom Dun- combe,” the member for Finsbury; Hume, the economist; Grote, the historian; Lord Ashley, the philanthropist; Charles Villiers, 48 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD of corn law fame; the witty Charles Buller; and O’Connell, with his eloquent hut now almost forgotten lieutenant, Richard Lalor Shiel. On the Tory side of the House were Sir Robert Peel, the leader of the Opposi¬ tion ; the present Mr. Gladstone, then member for Newark; Lord Stanley, “whose knowledge of parliamentary debate re¬ sembled an instinct;” Sir Francis Burdett, who had deserted the Whigs; and other members of lesser note. It was before such an audience that the member for Maidstone was to rise to make his maiden speech. As malice has exaggerated the disadvan¬ tages under which Mr. Disraeli laboured in early life, so it has been pleased to exaggerate the collapse of Mr. Disraeli’s first parliamentary effort. As a matter of fact the much talked of maiden speech was not a failure in the generally accepted sense of the word. The member for Maid¬ stone, when he rose first to address the House, did not fail as Sir Robert Walpole failed, as Canning failed, as Grattan, Sheri¬ dan, and Erskine failed, and the rest, who became nervous and confused when passing through a similar ordeal. The speech that Mr. Disraeli delivered on that memorable occasion is both clever and eloquent; even his most malignant biographer admits that it was far above the parliamentary average. The speech failed, not from the matter con¬ tained in it, but partly from an organized opposition and partly from the prejudices excited in the honest English mind by the attitudes and appearance of the speaker. When a suitor addresses a packed jury, and at the same time creates a feeling against him in the mind of the court, he is not likely to obtain a favourable verdict. This was Mr. Disraeli’s position. The Irish who supported O’Connell—and who loved, and still love, whenever the occasion prompts, to introduce into the House of Commons the elements of a fair in their turbulent country—jeered and howled the moment Mr. Disraeli rose to his legs, and did their utmost to shriek him down. Nor did the appearance of the young member create a favourable impression among the civilized portion of the assembly. In addressing an eminently English audience—an audience hating instinctively anything theatrical and foreign—Mr. Disraeli by his garments and his gestures at once repelled the sympathies of his hearers. He stood on the floor of the House showily dressed in a bottle-green frock coat, an extensive white waistcoat, trousers of a vulgar fancy pattern, and round his neck a black tie, which effectually concealed any collar he might have worn. A network of glittering chains covered the front of his chest. His face was deadly pale, and his hair, combed away from the right temple, fell in bunches of well-oiled ringlets over his left cheek. As he ad¬ dressed his audience he spoke with great rapidity, moving his body from one side to another, and throwing his hands out, and then quickly drawing them in again. He looked like a sporting Israelite who had studied elocution on the boards of a third- rate French theatre. The occasion of the speech was not a very important one. It appears that Mr. Spottiswoode, the queen’s printer, had, during the recess, started a subscription to provide Protestant candidates with money to contest Irish constituencies, and also to supply funds for the prosecution of petitions against such Roman Catholic members as should be returned. The subscription was supported by several members of parliament, and among them by Sir Francis Burdett, who had taken every opportunity of inform¬ ing the world that he had contributed twenty pounds. Such proceedings were warmly resented by the Irish, who looked upon the subscription as a conspiracy to suppress the political and religious liberties of Ireland. When parliament met, the matter came before the House. On De¬ cember 7, 1837, Smith O’Brien, who had been returned for the county of Limerick, but whose seat had been petitioned against, moved that “ a select committee be appointed to inquire into the allegations AND HIS TIMES. 49 contained in the petition presented by William Smith O’Brien, complaining of the subscriptions which had been raised to en¬ courage the presentation of petitions against Irish members, and of the conduct of a member of the House in having contributed to such subscription.” Lytton Bulwer sup¬ ported the petition. Sir William Follett, the member for Exeter, defended the sub¬ scription on the ground that Smith O’Brien was as much a representative of the people of England as of the electors of Limerick. Sir Francis Burdett denounced O’Connell as encouraging assassination, and declared that there were many people living in Ireland under a system of terrorism “ more powerful and dreadful than that which existed under Robespierre in France; ” then he concluded with the charge that always struck home to the guilty conscience of the agitator, that he was making patriotism “ a source of gain.” O’Connell replied in a long speech, which fills several columns of “Hansard,” attacking the Tories with his usual coarse vehemence, and accusing them of insulting the people of Ireland by this subscription. As soon as the tribune had sat down, Mr. Disraeli rose to his feet. He had vowed that they should “ meet at Philippi,” and the meeting had taken place. Extracts from the speech he delivered on that occasion have fre¬ quently been given, but it has seldom appeared in its entirety. Let the reader judge for himself whether it was the failure malice has represented it. “ I trust the House,” he began, “ will ex¬ tend to me that gracious indulgence which is usually allowed to one who solicits its attention for the first time. I have, however, had sufficient experience of the critical spirit which pervades the House, to know and to feel how much I stand in need of that in¬ dulgence—an indulgence of which I will prove myself to be not unworthy, by pro¬ mising not to abuse it. “ The hon. and learned member for Dublin (Mr. O’Connell) has taunted the hon. baronet, the member for North Wiltshire (Sir Francis Burdett) with having uttered a long, ram- VOL. i. bling, wandering, jumbling speech. Now, I must say—and I can assure the hon. and learned gentleman that I paid the utmost attention to the remarks which flowed from him—that it seems to me that the hon. and learned gentleman took a hint from the hon. baronet in the oration which the hon. and learned gentleman has just addressed to the House. There is scarcely a single sub¬ ject connected with Ireland which the hon. and learned member did not introduce into his rhetorical medley. The hon. and learned member for Dublin also taunted the hon. and learned member for Exeter (Sir W. Fol¬ lett) with travelling out of the record of the present debate, while he himself travelled back seven hundred years, though the House is engaged in the discussion of events which have taken place within the last few months. “ The hon. and learned member has fa¬ voured the House with an allusion to poor laws for Ireland. [Wo, no.] Perhaps I may be wrong; but, at all events, there was an allusion to the Irish Corporation Bill. I do not pretend accurately to remember all the topics which the hon. and learned mem¬ ber introduced into his speech; but, if no reference was made by the hon. and learned gentleman to the subject of Irish poor laws, at least there was a dissertation upon the measure relating to the municipal corpora¬ tions of Ireland. Is that subject relative to the debate before the House ? “ I will not allude—I will spare the feel¬ ings of the hon. and learned member in that respect—to the subscriptions which the hon. and learned member told the House have not been successful on his side; but that circumstance may account for the bitterness with which he spoke of the successful efforts of the much-vilified Mr. Spottiswoode. I was, indeed, much inclined to ask the hon. member for Limerick (Mr. Smith O’Brien), if he attended the meeting at which it was expected that every Liberal member would subscribe £50 to the protection fund. I thought that perhaps the hon. member could have given some curious information upon that subject; that though there may have 7 50 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD been nearly £3000 to begin with, there is now nothing in the exchequer, and that this pro¬ ject of majestic mendicancy has now wholly vanished. The hon. and learned member for Dublin has announced that the Spottis- woode subscription is a Protestant sub¬ scription. That it is supported by many Protestants nobody can attempt to deny; but if the hon. and learned member means to say that it is a subscription established for the particular object of supporting a Protestant faction against the Catholic people, I beg to remark that I see nothing at all to justify that supposition. It may be a Protestant, but it is essentially a defen¬ sive fund. The hon. and learned member for Dublin talked of the clergymen of the Church of England subscribing to this fund, and contrasted their conduct with that of the priests of his church; but I defy the hon. and learned member to produce a single instance of tyrannical interference on the part of the Protestant clergy at all similar, or in the least degree analogous, to those acts which are imputed to the clergy of the Catholic church. If the hon. and learned member doubts what I am saying, let him refer to the volume of evidence taken before the intimidation committee, and the hon. member will see that from Cornwall to Yorkshire no case has occurred that bears a comparison to the occurrences in Ireland, and that I am fully justified in the statements I make. The object of the subscription entered into was to procure justice for the Protestant constituencies and the Protestant proprietors of Ireland, those constituencies and those proprietors being unable to obtain justice single-handed. “ Hon. members know very well that a landlord in Ireland has been told by his tenants that they could not vote for him because their priest had denounced him from their altar. They know very well that when it was attempted to reinforce the strength of the Protestant constituency in the registration courts, some revising or assistant barrister from the Castle of Dublin was easily found to baffle it, and thus they were forced on to their last resource and refuge—to a committee of this House. “ Now, is this a petition which has the downfall of the Catholics for its object ? For my part, I think that the facts which have been brought before the notice of the intimidation committee perfectly justify the use of the epithets which have been em¬ ployed in the original circular or manifesto of Mr. Spottiswoode. [Murmurs.] “ I shall not trouble the House at any length. I do not affect to be insensible to the difficulty of my position, and I shall be very glad to receive indulgence even from the hon. members opposite. If, however, hon. gentlemen do not wish to hear me, I will sit down without a murmur. “ I shall confine myself to an attempt to bring back the subject to the point which is really at issue. I cannot comprehend why a considerable body of Her Majesty’s subjects, respectable not only for their numbers, but for their independence and integrity, should be held up to scorn and odium by the hon. and learned member for Dublin, for the commission of an. act, the legality of which he did not presume to question, of the propriety of which they are as competent judges as that hon. and learned member, and of which, after what he has himself confessed, the hon. and learned member ought to be the last to question the deli¬ cacy. I have examined the list of contri¬ butors as well as the hon. and learned member for Dublin, and with a more than ordinary degree of interest, arising from the fact that the town which I represent has con¬ tributed a larger proportion of the fund than any other part of England, and I do not find that the subscribers principally consist of members of the aristocracy. With very few exceptions, they are to be found among the middle classes—men of moderate opinions and of a temperate tone of mind—men, in fact, who seldom step out of the sphere of their private virtues—men, as hon. gentle¬ men who have examined these lists must know, who seldom partake of the excite¬ ment created by the conflict of parties, and AND HIS TIMES. 51 are rarely inflamed by tlie passions which agitate the political world. I must say that I think it a very strange thing that so large a body of individuals, many of whom are constitutional reformers, many of whom, until very lately, supported Her Majesty’s government—I must repeat that I consider it would be very hard, very unjust, very im¬ politic, to appoint a committee of inquiry, which would be equivalent to a verdict against these individuals, without first inquiring what were the feelings which induced them to pursue the line of conduct they have adopted. I would remind the House that these individuals, many of whom supported the Reform Bill, may have enter¬ tained hopes in reference to the working of that measure, which, like the hopes cherished by some hon. gentlemen opposite, may have been disappointed. They may have enter¬ tained an expectation that nomination would be at an end, that the stain of borough- mongering would be wiped out, and that not a remnant of the system would remain in a reformed parliament. But when they found that the stain of borough-mongering assumed a deeper and darker hue, that seats were openly bought and sold, and that a system of intimidation was organized, to which the riots that even under the old system exhibited the more flagrant features of electoral operations, were peaceable— when they found that this was the case, they perhaps thought that it was time to bring matters to a head. “ I have but one more observation to make, and I confess I am rather anxious to make that observation, as it will give me the first opportunity which has been afforded me of saying something with respect to Her Majesty’s government. [Renewed murmurs.] “ I wish I could induce the House to give me five minutes. It is not much. I stand here to-night, not formally, but in some degree virtually, as the representative of a considerable number of members of Parlia¬ ment. [Loud laughter.] “ How, why smile ? Why envy me ? Why not let me enjoy that reflection, if only for one night ? Do you forget that band of 158 new members, that ingenuous and inexperienced band, to whose unsophis¬ ticated minds the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer (Mr. Spring Rice) ad¬ dressed himself early in the session, in those dulcet tones of winning pathos which have proved so effective ? “ I know that considerable misconcep¬ tion exists in the minds of many of that class of members on the opposition side of the House in reference to the conduct of Her Majesty’s government with respect to elections. I will not taunt the noble lord opposite with the opinions which are avowed by his immediate followers; but certain views were entertained and certain calculations were made with respect to those elections about the time when the bell of our cathedral announced the death of our monarch. We had ail then heard of the projects said to be entertained by the government, and a little accurate informa¬ tion on the subject would be very acceptable, particularly to the new members on the opposition side of the House. We had been told that reaction was a discovery that only awoke derision, that the grave of Toryism was dug, and that the funeral obsequies of Toryism might be celebrated without any fear of its resuscitation, that the much- vilified Peel parliament was blown to the winds, when Mr. Hudson rushed into the chambers of the Vatican. “ I do not impute these sanguine views to the noble lord himself, for he has subse¬ quently favoured the public with a mani¬ festo, from which it would appear that Toryism cannot be so easily defeated. It was, however, vaunted that there would be a majority of one hundred, which might, upon great occasions, be expanded to 125 or 130. [Uproar and cries of ‘Question’] That was the question. We wish to know the simple fact whether, with that majority in the distance, they then thought of an alteration in the Grenville Act,* and whether * The principle of the Grenville Act was to select commit¬ tees for the trial of election petitions by lot. 52 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD it was then supposed that impartial tribunals might be obtained for the trial of election petitions. [. Renewed murmurs.'] “ If hon. gentlemen think this fair, I will submit. I would not do so to others, that is all. [Laughter.] Nothing is so easy as to laugh. I wish before I sit down to show the House clearly their position. “When the House remembers that, in spite of the support of the hon. and learned member for Dublin and his well-disciplined band of patriots, there was a little shyness exhibited by former supporters of Her Ma¬ jesty’s government—when they recollect the ‘ new loves ’ and the ‘ old loves/ in which so much of passion and recrimination was mixed up, between the noble Tityrus of the treasury bench and the learned Daphne of Liskeard (Mr. Charles Buller), notwith¬ standing the amantium ircc has resulted, as I had always expected, in the amoris integ- ratio , notwithstanding that political duel has been fought, in which more than one shot was interchanged, but in which recourse was had to the secure arbitrament of blank cartridges — notwithstanding emancipated Ireland and enslaved England, the noble lord might wave in one hand the keys of St. Peter, and in the other— [i the shouts that followed drowned the conclusion of the sentence.] “Now, Mr. Speaker, see the philosophical prejudice of man. I would certainly gladly hear a cheer, even though it came from the lips of a political opponent. I am not at all surprised at the reception which I have ex¬ perienced. I have begun several times many things , and I have often succeeded at last. I will sit down now , but the time will come when you will heom me.” With regard to this memorable prophecy, so brilliantly realized, it has been well re¬ marked that—“To think this and say it next day would have been nothing. To say so, not so much in the petulance of temper as with the calm earnestness of conviction, at a moment when most men would have been crushed helplessly under the load of ridicule, and stung beyond power of reflec¬ tion by the disappointment of cherished hopes, gave evidence of unexampled strength of will and presence of mind, and of the overweening self-confidence it went so far to justify.” On Canning resuming his seat, after having failed to impress the House in his maiden speech, he was advised by his friend, Mr. Pitt, to remain silent for some sessions until he had made himself perfectly familiar with the intellectual atmosphere of the House of Commons, so as to know, the next time he took part in debate, how to speak and what to avoid. Mr. Disraeli did not act upon this principle. During the next few years his name is to be met with in the pages of Hansard, not frequently but sufficiently often to show that he main¬ tained consistently the political views he always held, and that he had now obtained the ear of his audience. Whilst speaking he was often encouraged by the approval of Sir Robert Peel, and on one occasion he succeeded in obtaining a loud “Hear, hear!” not uttered in irony, from his virulent enemy, O’Connell. Let us rake up from the past the opinions he expressed before the name of Disraeli was among the most prominent of the orators of his day. When Mr. Villiers made his annual motion on the corn laws (March 15, 1838), we find him contradicting the statement that the existence of the corn laws exposed English manufactures to unfair competition. As became a man of letters, he supported (April 25, 1838) Sergeant Talfourd’s bill to amend the law of copyright, and urging the claims of authors upon the state to have their works protected. Upon the House resolving itself into committee on the Irish Municipal Corporations Bill (June 1, 1838), he protested against the tendency to centralization by which it was characterized, and on the bill collapsing, the government, later on in the session, brought in a new measure, which Mr. Disraeli denounced as “a most profligate one.” He spoke, with much humour and liberality of sentiment, in favour of the AND HIS TIMES. 53 motion of Mr. Dnncombe (Feb. 28, 1839) respecting theatrical entertainments in the city of Westminster during the season of Lent. It appears that it was the in¬ consistent and intolerant custom, whilst theatrical representations might take place in the other parts of the metropolis, to forbid them in Westminster during the Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent. Mr. Duncombe very properly argued that if it were wrong to go to theatres on the Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent, in the city of Westminster, it was equally wrong to watch theatrical performances on the same days during the same season in the other parts of London which were not under the jurisdiction of the city of West¬ minster. He complained of the pecuniary loss sustained by actors and actresses, and mildly inquired, if the Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent were so very sacred, why the bishops gave dinners, and went out to dinner, on those holy days ? Mr. Disraeli followed suit. He hoped, he said, that he entertained as profound a respect for the established religion of the country as any one on the episcopal bench; but when the House was met upon a question of this nature, it was necessary to indulge in a little research. He wished to know at what time during the Protestant sway in this country Lent had been rigidly and properly respected. He was not pre¬ pared to say that he approved of any relax¬ ation of a rigid observance of Lent so far as Wednesdays and Fridays were concerned. He was not prepared to say that it might not be just, and expedient, and prudent, and religious, and proper to observe it even for forty days. But then they must give him forty days of Lent as they had ever been observed when they were perfectly observed —they must give him the forty days of Lent, with the “mysteries” and with the “ moralities: ” with those mysteries and with those moralities which were acted by the monks. This was the only mode in which humanity had tolerated the religious observ¬ ance of Lent, and these were the amusements to which the people then had recourse. Nor should we forget that the birth of Protes¬ tantism and of the drama in England were almost simultaneous. The moment Protes¬ tantism had sway in England there was a great relaxation in the observance of Lent —in fact, it had never been observed rigidly and completely in Protestant times. And besides, he must say, that the question of the observance of Lent on two days in the week, without an equal observance of good morals and manners in other respects, was but the shadow of a custom, and the shade of a faith. Holding these views, he would certainly vote for the motion. A few days afterwards (March 8, 1839), the Irish Municipal Corporations Bill came again before the House. Mr. Disraeli opposed it, objecting, as he had before, to its centralization, and declaring that if its clauses became law the rights and liberties of Ireland could never be assured. It was on this occasion that O’Connell loudly cried approvingly “ Hear, hear!” The young mem¬ ber for Maidstone spoke at greater length when he expressed his intention to vote against Mr. Hume’s motion for household suffrage (March 21, 1839). He now, for the first time, treated the House to the views he had laid down in his “Vindication of the English Constitution.” Mr. Hume, in the advocacy of his cause, had spoken much of “the people” who, of course, were strongly in favour of the measure, and he had also declared that taxation and representation ought to go hand in hand. Mr. Disraeli differed from the great economist. The constitution of England, he said, consisted of three estates of the realm, and the commons of England formed one of those estates. If the elective body in the country were to be an estate of the realm, it would be absurd to have a House of Commons to represent the volition of the nation. And pray, he asked, what was to be understood by “the people?” They knew what “ a nation” was, but what was meant by “ a people ? ” The phrase “people’’wasnot apolitical phrase,but a term of natural history, a physiological term. The 54 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD House of Commons was the representative not of “ the people/’ hut of the commons of England. It had been said in the course of this debate that the theory of their consti¬ tution was that taxation and representation should go hand in hand. Where was that principle to be found ? In what part of the constitution ? In Magna Charta, in the Bill of Rights, or in the famous Reform Bill which was welcomed with so much en¬ thusiasm, and was now attacked with so much causticity ? The principle of representation did not necessarily include election, as there might be both representation without election and election without representa¬ tion. The Church of England was repre¬ sented in the House of Lords—there was representation without election, for the bishops were not elected by the clergy. The House of Lords was as much a representative body as the House of Commons, but that House was not elected. If taxation and representation went hand in hand, then indi¬ rect taxation gave as good a claim to representation as direct taxation. If direct taxation was a qualification for the exercise of the elective franchise, then why should not indirect taxation, and why should they stop at household suffrage ? It had been said that the progress of education and general enlightenment would qualify the whole male population for the exercise of the elective franchise. But how did they not know, he asked the House, that the progress of this very enlightenment would inspire the population with a desire to reject the representative system altogether, and resort to the Prussian policy of government, by which there was no suffrage given at all, but every man was preferred in the state accord¬ ing to his merits ? He could not support the motion. He took the same course when the edu¬ cation question (June 20,1839) came before the House. He made a distinction between “ national education” and “state education:” the one he approved of, the other he was opposed to. He was not in favour of pater¬ nal government, which stamped out the sense of independence in man, and caused him to rely upon others. Individual effort should be encouraged, but aid from the state discouraged. It was the longest speech he had as yet made in the House of Com¬ mons, and will bear being taken out of the oblivion of Hansard. He objected, he said, that education should be carried on under the superin¬ tendence, the interference, and the control of the state. When he came to examine facts, he found that education did not owe much to the interference of the state. It appeared to him that the state had done little or nothing, and that nearly all that had been done had been effected by public aid and individual enterprise. The state in this country had not formed a single road, built a single bridge, or dug a single canal. Society should be strong, but the state weak. To diminish the duties of the citizen was to peril the rights of the sub¬ ject. He ascribed to these principles the realization in this country of the two great¬ est blessings of social life—liberty and order. A despotic government might insure order; a republic might afford liberty; but the combination of liberty and of order— order not disturbed by national injustice, and liberty not disturbed by popular out¬ rage—had been realized in England alone. The chief characteristics of the English people had long been known as indepen¬ dence, self-reliance, caution, and enterprise; and these they owed to their system of self- government. But it was now wished to return to that system of society which was an indi¬ cation of a barbarous age, but which had gained for itself the epithet of “paternal.” Wherever they found a paternal government they found a state education. Take China, take Persia, take Austria—the China of Europe —take Prussia—the equivalent of Persia— and there it would be seen that the most perfect systems of national education were to be found. Yet where everything was left to the government, the subject became a machine. He therefore opposed the sys¬ tem on account of its tendency to injure AND HIS TIMES. 55 their national character. He was an advo¬ cate for national education, but it did not follow that he should also be an advocate for state education—there was a great distinc¬ tion between the two. Was it true that education had been so neglected as had been alleged? Had the cellar schools in their great manufacturing towns done nothing? Had the church done nothing? He re¬ gretted that so important a measure had been brought forward at the close of the session, and that the experience and patriot¬ ism of the House of Lords had not been consulted in the matter. He would vote against the bill. “ I believe,” he concluded, “the great object which every English statesman ought to have in view is—to encourage the habits of self-government amongst the people; and it is because I consider the proposition which has been submitted to our consideration as hostile to the acquisition of those habits that I oppose the scheme. I believe that it is an axiom in civil policy, that in exact proportion as we curtail the duties of citizens, we peril the rights of subjects; and I believe we have done that already to some extent. We have already had recourse to a system of central organization; and what has that system not produced? and what may it not yet produce? Let us remember that the same system which tyrannized in the nur¬ sery under the pretence of education, may again make its appearance, and immure old age within hated walls, under the specious plea of affording relief. It is always the state and never society—always ma¬ chinery and never sympathy. By our system of state education all would be thrown into the same mint, and all would come out with the same impress and super¬ scription. We may have a bloated mechani¬ cal prosperity; we may make money; we may make railroads; but when the age of passion comes, when those interests are in motion, and those feelings stirring, which will shake society to its centre—then we shall see what will become of the votaries of state education! We shall then see whether the people have received the same sort of education which was advocated and supported so nobly by William of Wyke- ham: by him who built schools, and founded and endowed colleges. Who, I would ask, built our universities? Did they spring from a * system of central organization ? ’ Who built our colleges, churches, and cathedrals? Do we owe them to a scheme of ‘centralization’ pro¬ pounded and supported by the state ? Ho; other principles actuated the men of former days; and let us look abroad on Ireland, and witness the result. Where shall we find a country more elevated in the social scale ? Where a people more distinguished for all that is excellent in the human char¬ acter? The time will come, if you persist in your present course, when you will find that you have revolutionized the English character; and when that is effected, you can no longer expect English achievements.” These remarks are more original than sound, and we are glad to think that within recent years they have not been acted upon. We have adopted the system of state education without it having altered the English charac¬ ter, except for the better, and without it being calculated to endanger English achievements in the future. In spite of Mr. Disraeli’s objections to centralization, the system was no novelty. Our universities established a central system of education. It was found expedient to centralize justice, why, then, should it have been pernicious to centralize education ? Hor was the example of China a happy one in favour of Mr. Disraeli’s arguments. Whatever evils the Chinese empire labours under, it certainly owes a deep debt of gratitude to its system of education; through it the democracy in the country has found a vent; and hence has preserved the empire from many of those convulsions which have distracted Europe. The speech of the member of Maidstone on this occasion is valuable, since it shows how keenly he appreciated the English character, and how stoutly he opposed any measure which, in his eyes, was calcu- 56 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD lated to destroy the manliness of the people he so much admired, and to lower the pres¬ tige of the country of his adoption. A modern bishop has said that he would sooner see his countrymen drunk than enslaved. Air. Disraeli preferred to see Englishmen ignorant rather than lose the majesty of their self-reliance. Happily, we have arranged matters so that knowledge can be circulated without loss to the sense of independence in the individual or danger to the future of the community. Events were now stirring which caused Mr. Disraeli to divert his attention for the moment from parliamentary to the wider field of national criticism. The years that succeeded the passing of the Reform Bill were years of increasing agricultural dis¬ tress and commercial depression. The Eng¬ lishman who, at the present day, studies the condition of the working classes—the hours of labour controlled by the state, the re¬ strictions placed upon the employment of women and children, an ameliorated poor- law system, the development of education, the advantages derived from cheap travel¬ ling and cheap correspondence, the abolition of odious imposts and slave-driving bar¬ barities, and the rest—cannot but at once perceive how superior is the position of the labouring man in every respect to that which was the lot of his predecessors. Be¬ neath the sway of the Melbourne govern¬ ment nothing could be more piteous or revolting than the situation in which the lower orders found themselves. In the mines, young women half clad in coarse sacking, unsexed and diseased, worked like beasts chained to the cars they had to drag along from subterranean passage to passage until death relieved them from the miser¬ able burden of their existence. Boys as soon as they could walk were employed in all kinds of labour, which stunted their growth and poisoned their manhood. The peasant received wages which, even with the aid of out-door relief, scarcely kept body and soul together; whilst the home in which he was lodged, damp and dilapidated, was scarcely ever put in repair by his landlord. The hard, selfish Lord Marney in Mr. Dis¬ raeli’s touching novel of “ Sybil ”—a work which contains the best description we have of the condition of the working classes at this time—was no exaggerated type of many a country landowner, and of the light in which the tenantry were regarded. “‘We have nothing to complain of,’ said Lord Marney. ‘ We continue reducing the rates, and as long as we do that the country must improve. The workhouse test tells. We had the other day a case of incendiarism, which frightened some people ; but I inquired into it, and am quite satisfied it originated in purely accidental circum¬ stances ; at least nothing to do with wages. 1 ought to be a judge, for it was on my own property.’ ‘ And what is the rate of wages in your part of the world, Lord Marney ? ’ inquired Mr. St. Lys, who was standing by. ‘ Oh ! good enough: not like your manufacturing districts; but people who work in the open air instead of a furnace can’t expect, and don’t require such. They get their eight shillings a week ; at least generally.’ ‘ Eight shillings a week! ’ said Mr. St. Lys. ‘ Can a labouring man with a family, perhaps of eight children, live on eight shillings a week ? ’ ‘ Oh ! as for that,’ said Lord Marney, ‘ they get more than that, because there is beer-money allowed, at least to a great extent among us, though I for one do not approve of the practice, and that makes nearly a shilling per week addi¬ tional ; and then some of them have potato grounds, though I am entirely opposed to that system.’ ‘ And yet,’ said Mr. St. Lys, ‘ how they contrive to live is to me marvellous.’ ‘ Oh! as for that,’ said Lord Marney, ‘ I have generally found the higher the wages the worse the workman. They only spend their money in the beer-shops. They are the curse of this country.’ ‘ But what is a poor man to do,’ said Mr. St. Lys, ‘ after his day’s work, if he returns to his own roof and finds no home ; his fire extinguished, his food unprepared; the partner of his life, wearied with labour in the field or the factory, still absent, or perhaps in bed from exhaustion, or because she has returned wet to the skin, and has no change of raiment for her relief ? We have removed woman from her sphere ; we may have reduced wages by her introduction into the market of labour; but under these circumstances what we call domestic life is a condition impossible to be realized for the people of this country ; and we must not therefore AND HIS TIMES. 57 be surprised that they seek solace or rather refuge in the beer-shop.’ Lord Marney looked up at Mr. St. Lys with a stare of high-bred impertinence, and then care¬ lessly observed, without directing his words to him, ‘ They may say what they like, but it is all an affair of population.’ ‘ I would rather believe that it is an affair of resources,’ said Mr. St. Lys; ‘ not what is the amount of our population, but what is the amount of our resources for their maintenance.’ ‘ It comes to the same thing,’ said Lord Marney. ‘Nothingcan put this country right but emigration on a great scale ; and as the government do not choose to undertake it, I have commenced it for my own defence on a small scale. I will take care that the population of my parishes is not increased. I build no cottages, and I destroy all I can ; and I am not ashamed or afraid to say so.’ ” Landlords of the Marney class, acting upon this principle, forced the people they expelled from their cottages to flock to the neighbouring towns for shelter. Here, in the miserable tenements they were obliged to occupy, their condition was even worse than in the ricketty hovels in the fields from which they had been driven. We quote again from the author of “ Sybil— “These wretched tenements seldom consisted of more than two rooms, in one of which the whole family, however numerous, were obliged to sleep, without distinction of age, or sex, or suffering. With the water streaming down the walls, the light distinguished through the roof, with no hearth even in winter, the virtuous mother in the sacred pangs of childbirth gives forth another victim to our thoughtless civilization; surrounded by three generations whose inevitable presence is more pain¬ ful than her sufferings in that hour of travail; while the father of her coming child, in another corner of the sordid chamber, lies stricken by that typhus which his contaminating dwelling has breathed into his veins, and for whose next prey is perhaps destined his new-born child. These swarming walls had neither windows nor doors sufficient to keep out the weather, or admit the sun, or supply the means of ventilation; the humid and putrid roof of thatch exhaling malaria like all other decaying vegetable matter. The dwelling-rooms were neither boarded nor paved; and whether it were that some were situate in low and damp places, occasionally flooded by the river, and usually much below the level of the road; or that the springs, as was often the case, would burst through the mud floor; the ground was at no time better than so much clay, while sometimes VOL. I. you might see little channels cut from the centre under the doorways to carry off the water, the door itself removed from its hinges ; a resting-place for infancy in its deluged home. These hovels were in many instances not provided with the com¬ monest conveniences of the rudest police ; contigu¬ ous to every door might be observed the dung-heap on which every kind of filth was accumulated, for the purpose of being disposed of for manure, so that, when the poor man opened his narrow habita¬ tion in the hope of refreshing it with the breeze of summer, he was met with a mixture of gases from reeking dunghills.” Nor was the operative a whit better off or better cared for than the peasant. He was seldom paid more than a penny an hour, and of this wretched sum he had at the end of the work to accept a portion of it in kind. The truck system was in full force, and the employer, who was often the owner of the stores at which the working man had to deal, not only paid his victim in victuals and groceries, but made him purchase those necessaries of life at an exorbitant rate. “ This here age,” says Master Nixon in “ Sybil,” “ wants a great deal, but what it principally wants is to have its wages paid in the current coin of the realm; ” and he expressed the senti¬ ments of his class. Slowly but gradually this state of things rose from murmuring and discontent into open sedition. The poor man saw the capitalist rolling in wealth, whilst he, the labourer, was doomed to a life of the heaviest toil and bitterest misery. He made war upon his employer. If he was a peasant, he burnt his landlord’s ricks; if he was a mechanic, he smashed the machinery. He paid heed to the evil counsels of the agitator who went stumping the country, setting class against class, and sowing broadcast the seeds of sedition, privy con¬ spiracy, and rebellion. The English people were then, as Mr. Disraeli said, divided into two nations. “ Two nations between whom there is no intercourse and no sympathy; who are as ignorant of each other’s habits, thoughts, and feelings, as if they were dwellers in different zones, or inhabitants of different planets; who are 8 58 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD formed by a different breeding, are fed by a different food, are ordered by different manners, and are not governed by the same laws—the rich and the poor.” But it was against the operation of the new poor laws that the hostility of the lower classes was especially directed. By the suppression of the monasteries the chief support of vagrant mendicity was withdrawn; and ever since that date statute after statute had been passed with the object of dealing with the vexed question of pauper relief, and settling it upon some merciful yet repressive basis. The various acts—the acts of Elizabeth, of Charles the Second, of George the First, Davies Gil¬ bert’s Act, the Select Vestry Act, and others;—had, however, failed in effectually checking imposture, or in relieving real dis¬ tress. “ The industrial population of the whole country,” writes Sir Erskine May,“was being rapidly reduced to pauperism, while property was threatened with no distant ruin. The system which was working this mischief assumed to be founded upon bene¬ volence; but no evil genius could have designed a scheme of greater malignity for the corruption of the human race. The fund intended for the relief of want and * sickness—of age and impotence—was reck¬ lessly distributed to all who begged a share. Everyone was taught to look to the parish, and not to his own honest industry, for support. The idle clown, without work, fared as well as the industrious labourer who toiled from morn till night. The shameless slut, with half a dozen children, the progeny of many fathers, was provided for as liberally as the destitute widow and her orphans. But worse than this, inde¬ pendent labourers were tempted and seduced into the degraded ranks of pauperism, by payments freely made in aid of wages. Cot¬ tage rents were paid, and allowances given according to the number of a family. Hence thrift, self-denial, and honest independence were discouraged. The manly farm labourer, who scorned to ask for alms, found his own wages artificially lowered, while improvi¬ dence was cherished and rewarded by the parish. He could barely live, without incumbrance; but boys and girls were hastening to church, without a thought of the morrow; and rearing new broods of paupers, to be maintained by the overseer. Who can wonder that labourers were rapidly sinking into pauperism, without pride or self-respect ? But the evil did not even rest here. Paupers were actually driving other labourers out of employment—the labour being preferred which was partly paid out of rates, to which employers were forced to contribute. As the cost of pauperism, thus encouraged, was increasing, the poorer rate¬ payers were themselves reduced to poverty. The soil was ill-cultivated by pauper labour, and its rental consumed by parish rates. In a period of fifty years the poor-rates were quadrupled, and had reached, in 1833, the enormous amount of £8,600,000. In many parishes they were approaching the annual value of the land itself.” Government at last resolved to inquire into the matter, and accordingly in the year 1834, on the recommendation of a royal commission, appointed at the request of parliament to examine into the administra¬ tion of the laws relating to the poor, the important Poor Law Amendment Act was passed. The essence of this measure was contained in two leading provisions. The first of these placed the superintendence of the whole machinery for dispensing relief to the poor in the hands of a central body of three commissioners, whilst the second contemplated the combination of a number of parishes into a so-called union, which henceforward became the unit of area of poor-law management. The great objects of the measure were those upon which the act of Elizabeth, to limit relief to destitution, and to distinguish between want and imposture, had been based. To arrive at these conclusions, the test was to be found in the workhouse. Under the old system pauperism had been generally relieved at home—the parish workhouse being only looked upon as the asylum for AND HIS TIMES. 59 the aged, for orphans, and for those whom it suited better than out-door relief. How¬ ever, now out-door relief was withdrawn altogether from the able-bodied paupers, whose wants were to be tested by their willingness to enter the parish workhouse. As soon as the harshness of these proceed¬ ings began to be practically felt, a fierce outcry against the act was raised by the lower orders. The poor man, reduced by sickness or misfortune to demand help from the parish to tide him over temporary dis¬ tress, pleaded in vain for the out-door relief which kept his home together and mitigated his sufferings. If he were to become the recipient of parochial assistance, a crushing future stood before him. He had to break up his humble establishment, to part with his household goods, to enter a prison-like asylum called the workhouse, to be cruelly separated from his wife and children, to wear a hideous dress, to be subject to severe restrictions upon his personal liberty, to do hard work, to be half fed, and, sad and wearied, to lie down to rest and breathe a tainted atmosphere in a crowded cell. We cannot be surprised that the labouring man, reduced to poverty from no fault of his own, with the instincts of affection in his nature, and not wholly lost to the sense of self-respect, should have declined to seek the shelter offered him on such terrible terms. Rather than be separated from those he loved, and be treated as a convict in order to obtain bare sustenance, he pre¬ ferred to perish from want. He refused to “enter the House;” and death from starvation was often the consequence of his refusal. When misery has marked the lower orders for its own, the professional agitator gene¬ rally appears upon the scene to attack the existing government and show how grievances can be redressed. A few weeks after the coronation of the young queen a great Radical meeting was held in Birming¬ ham, and Chartism sprang into life and made its mischievous influence felt. The country was in a sore plight; trade was bad, the farming interest was crushed by a succession of bad harvests, the poor were under-paid and over-worked. All these evils, it was now suggested, were owing to the working classes not being properly represented in the legislature. The recent Reform Bill had abolished various nomina¬ tion-boroughs ; had conferred the right of returning members on several large and prosperous towns ; had introduced a ten- pound household qualification for boroughs, and had extended the county franchise to leaseholders and copy - holders; but had done nothing for the working classes. It admitted the middle class to the repre¬ sentation, but it declined to go any lower in the social scale. Since the working men had been mainly instrumental in creating the agitation which caused the Reform Bill to be carried, their exclusion from the benefit of its clauses excited considerable indignation and discontent. The people banded them¬ selves together and gave public expression to their feelings. They drew up a programme of their wants, and showed it to O’Connell. He approved of it. “ There’s your charter,” he said; “ agitate for it, and never be con¬ tent with anything less.” The title given was a good one, and henceforth the pro¬ gramme of the lower classes was called the “ People’s Charter,” and those who advocated its contents went by the name of Chartists. It cannot be said that the demands were very exorbitant. The masses asked for universal suffrage, for annual parliaments, for vote by ballot, for the abolition of the property qualification then required for election of a member to Parliament, for the payment of members, and for the division of the country into equal electoral districts. These were the famous “ six points ” so familiar to all who have studied the agita¬ tion of this time. The Chartists used all their efforts to carry out their programme. They started newspapers of their own to advance their cause; they petitioned par¬ liament ; they broke out into open revolt; they held seditious meetings; they en¬ couraged strikes; and on one memorable 60 THE EARL OF BEAOONSFIELD * occasion their leaders were tried for high treason. For ten years the agitation con¬ tinued, and then it died a natural death. Mr. Disraeli had always, from the very beginning of his parliamentary career to the day when he breathed his last in Curzon Street, taken a keen interest in the welfare of the working classes. He held that be¬ tween the aristocracy and the lower orders there was far more of sympathy than between either the aristocracy and the middle classes, or the middle classes and the working men; and it was one of the great objects of the political creed he pro¬ fessed, to heighten and strengthen this sym¬ pathy. Whenever an opportunity occurred, no matter how his conduct affected party interests, his vote was ever registered in favour of the comfort and prosperity of the people. Like Lord Palmerston in his later years, he wanted the working classes to enjoy themselves; and every measure which tended in a judicious and legitimate manner to further such enjoyment he strenuously advocated, both when he was an unknown member of parliament as when he was a responsible minister of state. He went into the lobby against Sir Robert Peel on the question of the Hotting Hill Footway Bill, asserting that wherever private privilege, however ancient, stood between the toiling multitudes and the boon of fresh air and harmless recreation, private privilege ought to yield gracefully its exclusive rights. He was not in favour of making the observance of the Sabbath so strict and Puritan-like as to militate against the innocent pleasures and amusements of the people, who work arduously six days out of every seven. He was always an advocate of a sound sanitary system to be adopted in the dwellings of the poor. Whilst the professed champions of the working classes—Mr. Cobden and Mr. Bright—held aloof from the philan¬ thropic efforts of Lord Ashley, now Lord Shaftesbury, to limit the hours of labour in factories, and to protect women and chil¬ dren from over-work in mines, it was Mr. Disraeli who was one of the steadiest of that kind-hearted peer’s supporters. Influ¬ enced by these generous sympathies, when Mr. Attwood, the member for Birmingham, came forward in the House of Commons to present the national petition of the Char¬ tists, Mr. Disraeli was not ashamed to express himself in kindly terms of the objects those misguided men had in view. Lord John Russell, in his most acidulated manner, had sneered at the charter and its advocates, whereupon Mr. Disraeli rose up to reply. He, too, disap¬ proved, he said, of the charter as a remedy for the grievances complained of, but he candidly admitted that his sympathies were not wholly withheld from the petitioners. The complaints they brought forward were not groundless; recent legislation had been against them and their order; and sooner or later the working classes would have to be admitted to a larger share in the man¬ agement of the affairs of the country than they then possessed. Those who, criticis¬ ing the Reform Bill of 1867, accuse Mr. Disraeli of inconsistency, will do well to ponder upon this extract from the speech he delivered on the occasion of the Chartist petition in the summer of 1839:— “ If the noble lord,” (Lord John Russell), he said, “supposed that, in this country, he could establish a permanent government in what was styled now-a-days a monarchy of the middle classes, he would be indulging a great delusion, which, if persisted in, must shake our institutions and endanger the throne. He believed such a system was actually foreign to the character of the people of England. He believed that in this country the exercise of political power must be associated with great public duties. That was the true principle to adhere to. In proportion as they departed from it they were wrong; as they kept by it they would approximate to that lofty state of things which had been described as so desirable by the honourable member for Birmingham. The noble lord had answered the honour¬ able member for Birmingham, but he had not answered the Chartists. The honour- AND HIS TIMES. 61 # able member for Birmingham had made a very dexterous speech, a skilful evolution, in favour of the middle classes; but although he had attempted to dovetail the charter on the Birmingham union, all that had recently taken place on the appearance of the Chartists before the leaders of the union—newly - created magistrates — and the speeches by members of the convention within the last few days—led to a different conclusion—they manifested the greatest hostility to the middle classes. They (the working men) made no attack on the aris¬ tocracy, none on the corn laws—but upon the newly enfranchised constituency, not on the old—upon that peculiar constituency which was the basis of the noble lord’s government.” However, the reign of the Melbourne gov¬ ernment was rapidly drawing to a close. The blunders it hud committed and the grievances that clamoured for redress were fast under¬ mining whatever of stability it had possessed. The Jamaica question gave it the finishing blow. Owing to quarrels in the island, Lord Melbourne had resolved on proposing to parliament a suspension of the constitu¬ tion of Jamaica for five years, during which period the affairs of the colony were to be administered by a provisional government. The proposal was opposed not only by Sir Robert Peel and his followers, but by numerous Radicals, as a violation of Liberal principles. The ministry carried the second reading of their bill by five votes. Such a victory was virtually a defeat, and Lord Mel¬ bourne resigned. We know what followed. Sir Robert was sent for, but declined to form an administration on the refusal of the queen to part with certain Whig ladies, ‘the friends of her youth,” who held posts in the household. The “ Bedchamber Plot,” as it was called, restored Lord Melbourne to power, and once more he was “ To make believe to guide the realm Without a hand upon the helm. 3 ’ In the opinion of Mr. Disraeli, Sir Robert Peel was wrong in not taking office in 1839. “ His withdrawal,” he writes, “ seems to have been a mistake. In the great heat of par¬ liamentary faction which had prevailed since 1831, the royal prerogative which, unfortu¬ nately for the rights and liberties and social welfare of the people, had since 1688 been more or less oppressed, had waned fainter and fainter. A youthful princess on the throne, whose appearance touched the imagi¬ nation, and to whom her people were gene¬ rally inclined to ascribe something of that decision of character which becomes those born to command, offered a favourable op¬ portunity to restore the exercise of that regal authority, the usurpation of whose functions has entailed on the people of England so much suffering and so much degradation. It was unfortunate that one who, if any, should have occupied the proud and national position of the leader of the Tory party, the chief of the people, and the champion of the throne, should have com¬ menced his career as minister under Victoria by an unseemly contrariety to the personal wishes of the queen. The reaction of public opinion, disgusted with years of parlia¬ mentary tumult and the incoherence of party legislation; the balanced state in the kingdom of political parties themselves; the personal character of the sovereign—these were all causes which intimated that a move¬ ment in favour of prerogative was at hand. The leader of the Tory party should have vindicated his natural position, and availed himself of the gracious occasion; he missed it; and, as the occasion was inevitable, the Whigs enjoyed its occurrence. And thus England witnessed for the first time the portentous anomaly of the oligarchical or Venetian party, which had in the old days destroyed the free monarchy of Eng¬ land, retaining power merely by favour of the court.” During the ensuing few months that Lord Melbourne’s government was in office, the member for Maidstone was not silent. The pages of Hansard show us that he was often on his legs putting questions, supporting or opposing measures, and criticising in no toothless fashion the deeds of the Whigs 62 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD and the tenacity with which they clung to power. He sneered at the administration for claiming to be considered the govern¬ ment of the middle party, since it declared that it avoided all extremes. He disliked middle parties, for they reminded him, he said, of the lawyers who eat the oysters and gave the shells to their clients. He opposed Lord John Russell’s motion for the establishment of district and county constabulary, object¬ ing to the inquisitorial powers with which the new police would be furnished. He took the part of two men who were impri¬ soned for political offences, but whose confinement was carried out under excep¬ tional circumstances of indignity and bar¬ barity. He spoke against the agitation for the repeal of the corn laws, and he directed attention to the miserable state of the country generally. But his chief speech, during this period of ministerial incapacity, was in support of the motion of Sir Robert Peel. The ex-premier gave notice that, on May 31, he should move “That Her Majesty’s ministers do not sufficiently pos¬ sess the confidence of the House of Commons to enable them to carry through the House measures which they deem of essential importance to the public welfare, and that their continuance in office under such cir¬ cumstances is at variance with the spirit of the constitution.” With this sentiment Mr. Disraeli cordially agreed. He began by passing a high eulogium upon the character of Sir Robert Peel “Placed,” he said, “in an age of rapid civilization and rapid transition, he has adapted the practical character of his measures to the condition of the times. When in power, he has never proposed a change which he did not carry; and when in opposition, he never forgot that he was at the head of the Conservative party. He has never employed his influence for factious purposes, and has never been stimulated in his exertions by a disordered desire of obtaining office; above all, he has never carried himself to the opposite benches by making propositions by which he was not ready to abide. Whether in or out of office, the right hon. baronet has done his best to make the settlement of the new constitution of England work for the benefit of the present time and of posterity.” He then showed how necessary it was that there should be a clear understanding be¬ tween the representative and executive bodies. What, he asked, was the duty of a government placed in the situation of the present servants of the crown, unsupported as they were by a House of Commons elected under their own auspices ? They had frequently been defeated in the House of Lords, and of late they had been fre¬ quently defeated in the House of Commons. Clearly it was their duty to bow before the feeling of the country, and resign. Their conduct was as mean as it was unconstitu¬ tional. “ The reformed House of Commons,” he said, “proud of its new-fangled existence, and believing that all power would centre in itself, permitted a minister of state to stigmatize a vote of the House of Lords as ‘ the whisper of a faction.’ But now the poisoned chalice is returned to their own lips. Those who have treated the House of Lords with insult are now treating the House of Commons with contempt. The fact is, that the government is too full of that specious Liberalism which they find it convenient periodically to assume; but in attacking aristocratic institutions, it has become the victim of a haughty and rapa¬ cious oligarchy. The present is not the first time the Whigs have been placed in this situation, and in the present day they have been obliged to reconstruct the House of Commons, and to conciliate the House of Lords. In one thing they have been con¬ sistent—in a systematic slight of our parlia¬ mentary institutions. They now govern the country, not only in spite of the House of Lords, but in spite of the House of Com¬ mons. What will be the consequence ? Is it possible that these ‘apostles of liberty,’ as they have been termed, should be found cringing in the antechambers of the palace, and that they now intend to support them- AND HIS TIMES. 63 selves in office by clandestine and back¬ stairs* influence ? . . . . The career of Her Majesty’s present servants has been a singular one; they began by remodelling the House of Commons and insulting the House of Lords; then they assaulted the church; next the colonial constitutions; afterwards they assailed the municipalities of the kingdom, attacked the rich and the poor, and now, in their last moments, at one fell swoop, make war upon the colonial, commercial, and agricultural interests. Under these circumstances, I see no reason why the party to which I belong should despair, and the right hon. baronet (Sir Robert Peel), who, according to the pre¬ sident of the Board of Control,* is not a great man, and cannot be a great minister, may have the opportunity of establishing a government which will have the confidence of the education, the property, and, I sin¬ cerely believe, the enlightened feeling of the great body of the nation. In that case the prophecy of the right hon. gentleman will be falsified.” The motion of Sir Robert Peel was carried by a majority of one , the ayes being 312 and the noes 311. Instead of resigning, the government preferred to appeal to the country. Parliament was dissolved, and soon every shire was busy with the confusion and party hate of a general election. We must now allude to an event which, strictly speaking, has no place in a political biography, yet, since it influenced in no slight manner the career of Mr. Disraeli, should not be omitted. Mr. Wyndham Lewis, the senior member for Maidstone, had died early in 1839, and in the autumn of the following year Mr. Disraeli married the widow of his late colleague. The lady was possessed of an ample fortune, and the union was so singularly happy as to make it remarkable even in this country, which has given a word to our language incapable of translation into a foreign tongue—the word Home. Nothing, we are told—and it * Sir John Cam Hobhouse, then president of the Board of Control. is no intrusion into the privacy of domes¬ ticity, for the fact was never a secret—was more charming or more complete than the devotion to each other, and the sympathy with each other, which existed between Mr. and Mrs. Disraeli. To his wife—to her advice as well as to her wealth—the late Lord Beaconsfield owed much, and he never scrupled openly to admit his acknowledg¬ ments. There are men, distinguished in the various worlds of politics, literature, art, science, and commerce, who, when they have attained to fame, quietly keep their wives in the background, and enjoy the hospitalities of the great and listen to the flatteries of society, unencumbered by the presence of their partners, who have patiently borne the toil and burden of obscurity, yet are not permitted to bathe in the sunshine of prosperity. Mr. Disraeli did not belong to this class. Where he went his wife went, and no purely social invitation was ever accepted which did not include her who was, in the most exhaustive sense of the word, his helpmeet. That the late leader of the Conservative party, both as Mr. Disraeli and as the Earl of Beacons¬ field, was eminently a popular personage in society, is well known; his geniality, his wit, his tact, his homage to the presence and influence of woman, and above all the charms of his conversation, could not fail to render him an acquisition even to the most exclusive coteries; yet he owed not a little of his social popularity to the sweetness and purity of his home-life. Nor was he in this respect acting foreign to the instincts of the race whose blood coursed in his veins. Whatever faults the Jews possess, conjugal infidelity and a distaste for the repose and enjoyments of home are not amongst them; their religious ceremonies are so mixed up with the seclusion of family life—the home being, as it were, the completion of the synagogue—that they are of all people the most noted for the strength and purity of the domestic virtues. That these were apparent in Mr. Disraeli is plain to all who have studied 64 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD his career, or know anything of his life. On the publication of his pathetic novel, “ Sybil,” he dedicated the book to his wife in these terms:—“ I would inscribe this work,” he wrote, “to one whose noble spirit and gentle nature ever prompt her to sympathize with the suffering; to one whose sweet voice has often encouraged, and whose taste and judgment have ever guided, its pages; the most severe of critics, but—a perfect wife ! ” On the resignation of his cabinet, in L868, he sought no honours for himself; but he paid a graceful tribute to the woman he loved, by having her raised to the peerage as Viscountess Beaconsfield. Tn the debate on the address to Her Majesty, that a monument should be erected in Westminster Abbey to the memory of Lord Beaconsfield, allusion was made, in both houses of parliament, to the grace and devotion of the deceased states¬ man’s married life. “ He had,” said Lord Malmesbury, who knew the ex-premier intimately—“ He had every domestic virtue which a man need have. It was fortunate for him, as he always said, that he was supported by a most amiable and devoted wife, to whom he was himself equally de¬ voted. I remember when at last he was deprived of the support of his wife, he said to me, with tears in his eyes, ‘ I hope some of my friends will take notice of me now in my great misfortune, for I have no home; and when I tell my coachman to drive home, I feel it is a mockery.’ I recollect a remarkable story, of which perhaps your lordships have heard, and which was told me by himself. One day he arrived at the House of Commons, having an important speech to make, when the servant, in closing the carriage-door, shut in Lady Beaconsfield’s fingers. She had the courage not to cry out, not to say a word, and not to move till he was out of sight, lest she should disturb his mind and influence the speech he was going to make.” Mr. Gladstone, in the generous yet guarded speech he made on the occasion of the proposed monument, thus expressed himself upon the somewhat unusual subject of the domestic virtues of a political oppo¬ nent :—“ There was a feeling, sir,” he said, addressing the chairman of the committee, “ lying nearer yet to the very centre of his existence, which, though a domestic feeling, may yet without indelicacy be now referred to—his profound, devoted, tender, grateful affection for his wife—which if, as may be the case, has deprived him—I know not whether it be so or not—of the honours of public obsequies, has nevertheless left for him a more permanent title as one who knew, even amidst the storms and tempta¬ tions of political life, what was due to the sanctity and the strength of domestic affection, and who made himself an ex¬ ample in that respect to the country in which he lived.” On the dissolution of parliament, Mr. Disraeli did not again seek the suffrages of the constituency of Maidstone. Whatever were his reasons—whether he was offended at the accusation, no sooner made than withdrawn, that he owed certain debts in the place; or that his wife, who warmly supported his canvass, did not care to exert herself in the town for which her first hus¬ band had been the senior representative; or that he did not wish to oppose the local resident that was brought forward, or whatever was the cause—Mr. Disraeli did not pay his expected visit to Kent. He was asked to stand for Wycombe, but de¬ clined. An invitation from Shrewsbury, numerously signed, was, however, accepted, and the future protectionist leader hurried into Shropshire. He was hotly opposed, and his enemies strained every nerve to defeat him; they declared that he was a turncoat, and, when he had satisfactorily vindicated himself from the charge, they vowed that he was over head and ears in debt; when that accusation was also clearly disproved, they resorted to other misstatements; and, when these had been fairly met and contradicted, they could always fall back upon the fact that he AND HIS TIMES. 65 was t- a Jew,” which, of course, could not he refuted, and which was an arrow always serviceable when the quiver of the spiteful was empty. Falsehood and malice, however, failed to win the day. Mr. Dis¬ raeli attacked the new poor law, sneered at the ten-pound householder of the vaunted Keform Bill, exposed the scandalous ex¬ penditure of the Whig government, and opposed the abolition of the corn law r s by VOL. i. the telling announcement that cheap bread was the thin edge of the wedge for the establishment of cheap labour. His views were supported by the majority of his hearers. In conjunction with Colonel Tom¬ line, he was returned member for Shrews¬ bury. The numbers were—for the Tories, Tomline, 793; Disraeli, 787; for the Liberals. Parry, 604; Temple, 579. The Tory party had gained an easy victory. 9 CHAPTEE IV. THE AGRICULTURAL INTEREST. Sir Eobert Peel is tlie solitary instance on our roll of premiers of a man entirely destitute of the higher qualities of states¬ manship—the creative faculty and the pre¬ science which anticipates the course of events —who yet takes rank as a wise and great minister. Only those who confound memory with imagination can accuse him of origin¬ ality of design where his political creed was concerned. Every one of the great measures with which his name is connected was the result of the labours of his pre¬ decessors ; of every one of those measures he was at one time the chief opponent; yet every one of those measures was indebted to him, and not to its original author, for its enrolment upon the statute-book. Mr. Horner advocated the resumption of cash payments by the Bank; Mr. Peel opposed the motion; then he became converted to the idea; and it was through him, and not through Mr. Horner, that the currency hill became law. Mr. Canning passed his life in struggling with the legislature for the removal of Catholic disabilities. Mr. Peel was one of the most prominent oppo¬ nents of the measure; yet it was through him, and not through Mr. Canning, that the Emancipation Act was carried. Mr. Cobden was the consistent advocate of the repeal of the corn laws; Sir Eobert Peel was the chief of the great party which was most hostile to the efforts of the Manchester school; yet it was not Mr. Cobden, but Sir Eobert Peel, who removed restrictions upon the importation of grain. He was the tenacious recipient of other men’s ideas, which he elaborated, which he polished, which he methodized; but which, in spite of the finish with which they were pre¬ sented for the approval of the House of Commons, were no less the adapted schemes of others—and, curiously enough, of the very men whom at one time he had opposed. The bitter taunts of Mr. Disraeli were, therefore, not without justification, when we consider the measures which Sir Eobert Peel first denounced and afterwards advo¬ cated. It might be one-sided, but it cer¬ tainly was not wholly untrue, to accuse him, as Mr. Disraeli acccused him, of “ trading on the ideas and intelligence of others; ” of being “ a burglar of other men’s intellect; ” and of permitting his life to develop into “ one great appropriation clause.” Yet, in spite of his lack of origin¬ ality, Sir Eobert Peel was a great minister. Never since the days of Sir Eobert Walpole had there appeared a man who knew better how to excite parliamentary sympathies, how to appeal to parliamentary support, how to humour parliamentary antagonism, how to marshal parliamentary combinations and lead them on to victory. “ He played upon the House of Commons,” said Mr. Disraeli, “as if it were an old fiddle.” Like the famous Lord Shaftesbury, one of the secrets of his strength lay in his thorough knowledge of the aims and wishes of the English people. He saw what the country wanted and obeyed its instructions. He did not stem the tide, but was carried along by the stream. He never led the nation, for it was the nation which led him; but he followed so cleverly, that to many he appeared to guide its destinies. Another element of his power was the confidence which the middle classes re¬ posed in him. We have had aristocratic premiers, and we now have a Eadical premier, but Sir Eobert Peel was essentially THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. G7 a middle-class minister. He liad none of that brilliancy of talent—the characteristic of a Canning or a Disraeli—which in the eyes of the middle classes is deemed so dangerous. Except in the House of Com¬ mons, he was dull, tedious, and shy, which to his admirers were only so many more proofs of his soundness and solidity of character. He had in an eminent degree those practical habits in business and that love for detail, without which no politician, in the opinion of the middle classes, can become a statesman. He had no vices; his life was pure and unsullied; and though a high tone of morality is appreciated by all whose good word is worth obtaining, by none is it more highly valued than by the middle classes. The aristocracy might laugh at him and say he had “ no manners; ” the Protectionists might brand him as an impostor and an apostate; but the middle classes trusted him and felt that their interests were in safe keeping. The Duke of Wellington failed to inspire them with confidence, but “ they believed in Peel.” Their belief was soon to be put to the test. On the assembling of parliament, the elections had gone strongly in favour of the Tory party, and it was evident to all that the fate of the Melbourne govern¬ ment was sealed. Defeated on an amend¬ ment to the address, the Whig premier placed his resignation in the hands of the queen, and he was succeeded in office by Sir Robert Peel. A Tory cabinet was soon formed. Lord Lyndhurst was the chancellor; Lord Wharncliffe, president of the council; Lord Haddington, first lord of the admiralty; the Duke of Buckingham, lord privy seal; Sir James Graham, home secretary; the Earl of Aberdeen, foreign secretary; Lord Stanley, colonial secretary; Lord Ellenborougli, president of the board of control; Sir Henry Hardinge, secretary at war; the Earl of Ripon, president of the board of trade; Mr. Goulburn, chancellor of the exchequer; Sir G. Knatchbull, pay¬ master-general; and Lord Eliot, chief secre- taryfor Ireland. The Dukeof Wellington was a member of the cabinet, but without office. Among those not in the cabinet were Lord Lowther, postmaster-general; Lord Gran¬ ville Somerset, chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster; and Mr. W. E. Gladstone, vice- president of the board of trade. Mr. Disraeli was not offered office. He had served his party loyally for five years; he was rising in the estimation of the House of Commons; apart from his marriage he was not a rich man, and there is little doubt but that, had he been asked to fill some subordinate post in the government —that of an under-secretary or of a vice- president — the compliment would have been gladly accepted. Ho such proposal was, however, made, and because he was ignored it afterwards pleased the peculiar malice of his enemies to assert that his opposition to Sir Robert Peel w r as due to his having been excluded from the ministry on this occasion. It was said that he had intrigued for office, and had received a rebuff; hence his hostility to the measures of the government, hence his personal animosity to the prime minister. Mr. Disraeli met these charges with his usual courage, and with a complete denial as to their truth. In the debate on the Corn Importation Bill (May 15, 1846), he stated before his false accusers that had he been an applicant for office, on the forma-- tion of the government of Sir Robert Peel, there would have been nothing dishonour¬ able in the fact. He was a Conservative, he had supported his party, he was then a young man and he had never pretended to be without ambition. “But I can assure the House,” he solemnly said, “ nothing of the kind ever occurred. I never shall—it is totally foreign to my nature—make an application for any place. Anything more unfounded than the rumour circulated to-night, that my opposition to the right honourable gentleman has ever been in¬ fluenced by my being disappointed of office, there cannot be.” Lord Palmerston, shortly after Sir Robert Peel had come into power, once twitted Mr. Disraeli with this false charge. It was on the debate to unite the G8 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD diplomatic and consular services, an amal¬ gamation which the member for Shrewsbury had advocated. “ The hon. gentleman,” said Lord Palmerston, “ had indeed affirmed the general principle, that political adherents ought to be rewarded by appointments, and he regretted to observe an exception to that rule in the person of the hon. member himself. After the proof, however, of talent and ability which the hon. gentleman had afforded, although, perhaps, not of great industry in getting up the details of his case, he trusted, that before the end of the session, the government would overlook the slight want of industry for the sake of the talent, and that the House would see the maxim of the hon. member practi¬ cally applied to his own case.” It was never a very safe proceeding to make an attack upon Mr. Disraeli, for he had the faculty of turning upon his assailant and giving as a rule far more bitter measure than he received. Lord Palmerston, who had served as secretary at war under Per¬ ceval, under Liverpool, under Canning, under Goderich, under Wellington, and as foreign minister under Grey and Melbourne, certainly laid himself open to retort so far as adherence to office was concerned, and Mr. Disraeli did not spare him. He must offer, he said, his acknowledgments to the noble viscount for his courteous aspirations for his political promotion. Such aspira¬ tions from such a quarter must be looked upon as suspicious. The noble viscount was a consummate master of the subject; and if the noble viscount would only im¬ part to him the secret by which he had himself contrived to retain office during seven successive administrations, the present debate would certainly not be without a result. Nor is it true that Mr. Disraeli, after having been returned for Shrewsbury, and during the period preceding the repeal of the corn laws, acted in a hostile manner towards the measures advocated by the government. We have only to refer to the pages of what Mr. Disraeli called the “ Dunciad of Politics,” Hansard, to maintain this assertion. There we find the future protectionist leader playing the part of an independent, but by no means of a malevolent critic, upon the policy of the cabinet. He was a party man; but he was no blind, submissive partisan who votes as he is ordered, even wffien he disapproves of the schemes introduced. Still less did he permit any personal feelings he might entertain against the chief of the govern¬ ment to colour with their bias the views he held respecting public affairs. Early in the year 1842, when Sir Robert Peel introduced his scheme for modifying the corn laws, the member for Shrewsbury voted with the majority. His name is also to be found among the opponents of the annual motion of Mr. Yilliers for the total repeal of the corn laws. Often when he felt himself unable to support the government, rather than do damage by an opposition which might be considered factious, Mr. Disraeli stood aloof altogether from the division. He neither voted for nor against the imposition of the income tax, which, as we shall subsequently see, he strongly dis¬ approved of. He acted in the same manner towards those measures which resulted in the disruption of the Church of Scutland. His sympathy with the working-classes caused him not to look with disfavour upon the promoters of the second National Peti¬ tion, yet he declined to harass the govern¬ ment, and purposely absented himself from the House. This course he pursued through¬ out the early years of the Peel administra¬ tion so far as he consistently could; but when it came to a question of what he considered principle, he allowed no party restrictions to stand in the v T ay of his vote. He spoke in favour, as we have said, of a combination of the consular and diplomatic services, and was opposed by Peel. He proposed, and was thwarted by the premier, that a committee should inquire into the late invasion of Afghanistan, since it ap¬ peared to him, he said, “that no better reason existed for that invasion than could AND HIS TIMES. GO be offered by France, if she should choose to cross the Kliine, because she entertained some vague idea that all Europe was coalescing against her.” He resisted the proposal to disfranchise Sudbury, and went into the lobby with the minority. He was an advocate for commercial treaties, as opposed to the unconditional repeal of import duties, and boldly delivered his opinions without any fencing or scheming reservations. On the Irish question he spoke with equal force and lucidity, but at greater length; the speech he made on that occasion is too masterly to be briefly dismissed. The condition of Ireland was becoming more and more alarming. The agitation ex¬ cited by O’Connell for the repeal of the union had now spread almost throughout the entire country. Monster meetings were held, at which an infuriated mob assembled, ready to wreak their vengeance upon all who should oppose their resolve to sever them¬ selves from hated England. The usual concomitants of Irish revolt attended upon these proceedings. Landlords were unable to obtain their rents; the cattle of sub¬ missive tenants were houghed; ail who refused to sympathize with the agitation were marked out for punishment, were un¬ able to obtain the necessaries of life, were often “carded,” and occasionally shot. If the miserable people of a miserable island were to be kept in subjection, and if their country was not to pass into the hands of the enemy, it was evident that the English government must now actively bestir itself. It was no longer the revolt of a section, but the rebellion of a nation. Such was the situation of affairs when Lord John Eussell moved to inquire into the state of Ireland. An important debate ensued, and on the fourth night (February 16, 1844) Mr. Disraeli rose up to address the House of Commons. He was listened to with great attention, for he spoke words which put the case clearly before his audience, and merited all the consideration they deserved. It had been stated, he be¬ gan, that the grievances of Ireland had existed ever since the introduction of the reformed religion into that country. He denied that there was any necessary and irresistible connection between the intro¬ duction of Protestant principles into the island and the misgovernment they now deplored. Take, he said, the period pre¬ ceding the breaking out of the civil war. “ At that period there was a parliament in Dublin called by a Protestant king, pre¬ sided over by a Protestant viceroy, and at that moment there was a Protestant estab¬ lished church in Ireland; yet the majority of the members of that parliament were Eoman Catholics. The government was at that time carried on by a council of state, presided over by a Protestant deputy, yet many of the members of that council were Eoman Catholics. The municipalities were then full of Eoman Catholics. Several of the sheriffs also were Eoman Catholics, and a very considerable number of magistrates were Eoman Catholics. It is, therefore, very evident that it is not the necessary consequence of English connection—of a Protestant monarchy, or even of a Protes¬ tant church—that this embittered feeling at present exists; nor that that system of exclusion, which either in form or spirit has so long existed, is the consequence of Protestantism.” Then what was this much talked-of Irish question ? asked Mr. Disraeli. “ I want to see,” he cried, “a public man come forward and say what the Irish question is. One says it is a physical ques¬ tion, another a spiritual. How, it is the absence of the aristocracy; now the absence of railroads. It is the pope one day, pota¬ toes the next. Let us consider Ireland, as we should any other country similarly situated, in our closets. Then we shall see a teeming population which, with reference to the cultivated soil, is denser to the square mile than that of China, created solely by agriculture, with none of those sources of wealth which are developed with civiliza¬ tion, and sustained consequently upon the 70 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD lowest conceivable diet; so that in case of failure they have no other means of sub¬ sistence upon which they can fall back. That dense population in extreme distress inhabit an island where there is an estab¬ lished church which is not their church; and a territorial aristocracy, the richest of whom live in distant capitals. Thus you have a starving population, an absentee aristocracy, and an alien church; and, in addition, the weakest executive in the world. That is the Irish question.” How, then, were these evils to be remedied ? By a strong executive, a just administration, and ecclesiastical equality, he answered. Grant these, and you would have order in Ireland; the improvement of the physical condition of the people would follow—not very rapidly, perhaps; but what were fifty years even in the history of a nation ? If these recommendations were adopted, in fifty years hence the men who should succeed the present generation in par¬ liament would find the people of Ireland a contented and thriving peasantry. But we should not be deterred by difficulties— everything great was difficult. The Tory party was now in power, and the Tories had ever been the friends of Ireland. Was it denied ? Was it the Tory party that introduced the penal code ? It was not the Tory party that made a factitious aris¬ tocracy out of the plunder of the church. The penal code had been introduced, and at the same time a new spirit had been in¬ fused into what was called the Protestant church of Ireland—a Puritan spirit; and from that moment the Church of Ireland lost all its influence, and then those unfor¬ tunate consequences which have ensued had their origin. “Yet,” said the speaker, “at every period when Tory politics and Tory statesmen have succeeded in breaking through the powerful trammels of Whig policy, you will invariably observe that there has been a hope for Ireland—a streak of light observable in its gloomy horizon. Did not Mr. Pitt, the last of Tory states¬ men, propose measures for the settlement of Ireland, which, had they been agreed to by parliament, would have saved Ireland from her present condition ? You would have had the Roman Catholics of Ireland emancipated at a very early period, and you would have had the church question, too, settled at a very early period. . . . If we want permanently to settle Irish affairs with credit to ourselves, and to the satisfaction of the Irish people, we must reconstruct the social system of that country, and we must commence by organizing a very comprehensive and pervading executive. When we have done this, and got the ad¬ ministration of justice into our hands, we should, perhaps, find a less necessity for legislation for Ireland than has been con¬ sidered requisite. ... I look to no foreign, no illegitimate influences for bring¬ ing about that result—not to the passions of the Irish people, not to the machinations of their demagogues, not to the intrigues of distant nations, but to a power far more influential, far more benignant—a power more recently risen in the world, not yet sufficiently recognized .”—[A Voice: “What, ‘ Young England ?’”]—“ No, not Young Eng¬ land,” retorted Air. Disraeli, “but a power which Young England respects—that irre¬ sistible law of our modern civilization which has decreed that the system which cannot bear discussion is doomed.” Let us here say a few w’ords respecting the new association which, during the earlier years of the Peel administration, was sneered at as “Young England.” The late Lord Beaconsfield was always a great believer in the power and efficacy of youth. The sun¬ shine of life in his eyes was youth, all the rest was but the after glow. Aliddle age, with its caution gained by experience; old age, with its selfishness caused by neglect, were no doubt useful elements in their way in the government of mankind; but youth when able, when energetic, when generous, carried all before it—it was divine. Mr. Disraeli thus eulogises its power and the activity of its ambition in “ Coningsby,” a novel representing the views of “ Young AND HIS TIMES. 71 England,” and which for its literary finish, its brilliant dialogue, its exquisite analysis of character, and the fidelity of its historical narrative, is the finest political novel in our language:— “For life in general,” remarks Sidonia, one of the chief characters of the hook, after eulogising the power and oppor¬ tunities of gifted vouth. “ Youth is a blunder; Manhood a struggle; Old Age a regret. Do not suppose,” he added, smiling, “ that I hold that youth is genius; all that I say is, that genius, when young, is divine. Why, the greatest captains of ancient and modern times both conquered Italy at five- and-twenty! Youth, extreme youth, over¬ threw the Persian empire. Don John of Austria won Lepanto at twenty-five, the greatest battle of modern times; had it not been for the jealousy of Philip, the next year he would have been Emperor of Mauritania. Gaston de Foix was only twenty-two when he stood a victor on the plain of Eavenna. Every one remembers Conde and Eocroy at the same age. Gus- tavus Adolphus died at thirty-eight. Look at his captains: that wonderful Duke of Weimar, only thirty-six when he died. Banier himself, after all his miracles, died at forty-five. Cortes was little more than thirty when he gazed upon the golden cupolas of Mexico. When Maurice of Saxony died at thirty-two, all Europe acknowledged the loss of the greatest cap¬ tain and the profoundest statesman of the age. Then there is Nelson, Clive; but these are warriors, and perhaps you may think there are greater things than war. I do not: I worship the Lord of Hosts. But take the most illustrious achievements of civil prudence. Innocent III., the greatest of the popes, was the despot of Christendom at thirty-seven. John de Medici was a cardinal at fifteen, and according to Guicci¬ ardini, baffled with his statecraft Ferdinand of Arragon himself. He was pope as Leo X. at thirty-seven. Luther robbed even him of his richest province at thirty-five. Take Ignatius Loyola and John Wesley, they worked with young brains. Ignatius was only thirty when he made his pil¬ grimage and wrote the ‘Spiritual Exercises.’ Pascal wrote a great work at sixteen, and died at thirty-seven, the greatest of French¬ men. “ Ah ! that fatal thirty-seven, which reminds me of Byron, greater even as a man than a writer. Was it experience that guided the pencil of Eaphael when he painted the palaces of Eome ? He, too died at thirty-seven. Eichelieu was secre¬ tary of state at thirty-one. Well then, there were Bolingbroke and Pitt, both ministers before other men left off cricket. Grotius was in great practice at seventeen, and attorney-general at twenty-four. And Acquaviva was general of the Jesuits, ruled every cabinet in Europe, and colonized America before he was thirty-seven. What a career! . . . . But it is needless to multiply instances! The history of heroes is the history of youth.” Of the club of young men who banded themselves together to carry out the enthusiastic policy of “ Young England,” Mr. Disraeli was the chief—its presiding and inspiring genius. With him were associated Lord John Manners, his staunch friend and supporter throughout the whole of his political career; the brilliant George Sydney-Smythe; Henry Hope, the son of the author of “ Anastasius; ” Monckton Milnes, the poet; Faber, who afterwards completed his Tractarianism by embracing the faith of Eome, and others of lesser note. The animating spirit of the new creed was that the salvation of the country was to proceed from its youth, the “new generation:”— “ I have immense faith in the new generation,” says Millbank, one of the heroes in the novel “ Coningsby.” “ It is a holy thing to see a state saved by its youth,” said Coningsby; and then he added in a tone of humility, if not of depression, “ But what a task! What a variety of qualities, what a combination of circumstances, is requisite! What bright abilities and what noble patience ! What 72 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD confidence from tlie people, what favour from the Most High ! ” The faith of the “new generation” might be sentimental, but it was to be at the same time eminently practical. The higher classes were to visit the cottages of the poor, and by sympathy, kindly charity, and gentle counsel, bridge over the gulf which separated “the two nations.” Henceforth the peer and the pauper were not to be the strangers they had been to each other; the peer was to lose his pride, the pauper his prejudices. The Church was to be no longer the mechanism of a creed, but a real, animating influence; once more her doors were to be thrown open to all classes, her walls thronged with worshippers, her priests alive to the mission for which they had been consecrated, and the piety which had built our monasteries -and founded our chapels once more to be restored in all its purity and vigour. Thus sang the poet of the Fraternity— Yes ! through the Church must come the healing power, To bind our wounds in this tumultuous hour; From her old courts and altar-steps must flow The streams of grace that shall assuage our woe.” Alms-giving was to be practised as described by Mr. Lyle in “ Coningsby,” and as sung by Lord John Manners:— “ The daily beadsman waiting for his bread, Where good and bad were all, unquestioned, fed; For then it was not to our rulers known That God was mindful of the first alone; The monks still practised their dear Lord’s command, And rained their charity throughout the land.” In short, through the mission of “Young England ” religion was to be restored, poverty repressed, caste-exclusiveness to be exchanged for liberality of feeling, and mankind taught that there was something higher than the cold philosophy of Bentham, something nobler than the culpable self- denial inculcated by Malthus. The apostles of the new faith met with much ridicule in their day, yet the creed they taught was a holy and unselfish one. It did its work well, and to its example we owe, in no small measure, our churches free and filled, our charity organization societies, our work¬ men’s clubs, our homes, asylums, and refuges, and the other numerous institutions at the present day which have for their object the spread of religion, the advancement of education, and the mitigation of the miseries of humanity. Toward the close of the year 1844 Mr. Disraeli, as the leader of the school of “ Young England,” was asked to deliver a lecture at the Manchester Athenaeum—an institution which, after struggling against various pecuniary difficulties, was at last successfully established. The member for Shrewsbury chose as his subject the “Ac¬ quirement of Knowledge,” and the lecture he delivered on that occasion, though not to be met with in the published speeches of Mr. Disraeli, nor alluded to in any of his works, is fully worthy of preservation. A young man—and in politics, as at the bar, a man under forty is still young—busy as a politician and as an author, does not always care to come forward, and on a local platform trouble himself to present the truths and sound moral advice which are conspicuous in this lecture. Mr. Dis¬ raeli was, however, to address the youth of a great town, and such an audience always commanded his best efforts. He began by congratulating the Athenaeum upon having successfully surmounted the obstacles it had at first to encounter, and being now definitely established as a useful and pros¬ perous institution with a valuable library, a news room, a lecture hall, and a gym¬ nasium. The object of its founders was excellent. “ It is difficult to conceive,” he said, “how a nobler purpose, if for a moment we dilate upon it, could have animated your intentions. When we remember the class of your community for which this institu¬ tion w T as particularly adapted—when we conceive, difficult as it is, surrounded as we now are with luxury and pleasure—when we attempt to picture to our imaginations what is the position of a youth, perhaps of AND HIS TIMES. 73 very tender years, sent, as I am informed is very frequently the case, from a remote district, to form his fortunes in this great metropolis of labour and of science—when we think of that youth, tender in age, with no domestic hearth to soothe and stimulate, to counsel or control—when we picture him to ourselves after a day of indefatigable toil, left to his lonely evenings and his meagre lodgings without a friend and without a counsellor, flying to dissipation from sheer want of distraction, and perhaps involved in vice before he is conscious of the fatal net that is surrounding him—what a con¬ trast to his position does it offer when we picture him to ourselves with a feeling of self-confidence, which supports and sustains him after his day of toil, entering a great establishment where everything that can satisfy curiosity, that can form taste, that can elevate the soul of man, and lead to noble thoughts and honourable intentions, surrounds him! When we think of the convenience and the comfort, the kind¬ ness and the sympathy which, with a due decorum of manners, he is sure to command —this youth, who but a few hours before was a stranger—viewing an institution like the present only in this limited aspect, one must regard it as a great harbour of in¬ tellectual refuge and social propriety.” He hoped that so useful an institution would not be permitted to collapse. He looked upon it as part of that great educa¬ tional movement which was the noble and ennobling characteristic of the age in which they lived. To diffuse knowledge was the great duty of mankind. It was knowledge that equalized the social condition of man —that gave to all, however different their political position, passions which were in common, and enjoyments which were universal. Knowledge was like the mvstic ladder in the patriarch’s dream. Its base rested on the primeval earth—its crest was lost in the shadowy splendour of the em¬ pyrean ; while the great authors who for traditionary ages had held the chain of science and philosophy, of poesy and VOL. i. erudition, were the angels ascending and descending the sacred scale, and maintain¬ ing, as it were, the communication between man and heaven. “Heretofore,” he said, “society was established necessarily on a very different principle to that which is now its basis. As civilization has gradually progressed, it has equalized the physical qualities of man. Instead of the strong arm it is the strong head that is now the moving principle of society. You have disenthroned Force, and placed on her high seat Intelligence; and the necessary con¬ sequence of this great revolution is, that it has become the duty and the delight equally of every citizen to cultivate his faculties. The prince of all philosophy has told you, in an immortal apophthegm so familiar to you all that it is written now in your halls and chambers, ‘Knowledge is power.’ If that memorable passage had been pursued by the student who first announced this discovery of that great man to society, he would have found an oracle not less striking, and in my mind certainly not less true ; for Lord Bacon has not only said that ‘ know¬ ledge is power,’ but living one century after the discovery of the printing-press, he has also announced to the world that ‘ knowledge is pleasure.’ Why, when the great body of mankind had become familiar with this great discovery—when they learned that a new source was opened to them of influence and enjoyment, is it wonderful that from that hour the heart of nations has palpitated with the desire of becoming acquainted with all that has happened, and with speculating on what may occur ? It has indeed produced upon the popular intellect an influence almost as great as—I might say analogous to—the great change which was produced upon the old commercial world by the discovery of the Americas. A new standard of value was introduced, and, after this, to be dis¬ tinguished, man must be intellectual.” Knowledge was no longer a lonely her¬ mit, that offered an occasional and captivat¬ ing hospitality to some wandering pilgrim ; 10 74 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD knowledge was now found in the market¬ place a citizen, and a leader of citizens. Then, mindful of the audience he was especially addressing, and that he was the apostle to the new generation which was to save the state from atheism in religion, from rejDublicanism in politics, and from immorality in philosophy, he thus spoke to the youth of Manchester. The conclusion of his speech is as practical and high-souled as anything he ever uttered, and the youth of other towns besides Manchester might do worse than take to heart the teaching contained in this gospel of Young Eng- landism:— “ I would say one word now to tliose for whom this institution is not entirely, but principally, formed. I would address my¬ self to the youth on whom the hopes of all societies repose and depend. I doubt not that they feel conscious of the position which they occupy—a position which, under all circumstances, at all periods, and in every clime and country, is one replete with duty. The youth of a nation are the trustees of posterity; but the youth I address have duties peculiar to the position which they occupy. They are the rising generation of a society unprecedented in the history of the world, that is at once powerful and new. In other parts of the kingdom the remains of an ancient civilization are pre¬ pared to guide, to cultivate, to influence the rising mind; but they are born in a miraculous creation of novel powers, and it is rather a providential instinct that has developed the necessary means of main¬ taining the order of your new civilization, than the matured foresight of man. This is their inheritance. They will be called on to perform duties—great duties. I, for one, wish for their sakes, and for the sake of our country, that they may be performed greatly. I give to them that counsel which I have ever given to youth, and which I believe to be the wisest and the best— I tell them to aspire. I believe that the man who does not loolc up will hole down; and that the spirit that does not dare to soar is destined perhaps to grovel. Every individual is en¬ titled to aspire to that position which he believes his faculties qualify him to occupy. I know there are some who look with what I believe to be a short-sighted timidity and false prudence upon such views. They are apt to tell us—‘ Beware of filling the youthful mind with an impetuous tumult of turbulent fancies; teach him rather to be content with his position; do not induce him to fancy that he is that which he is not, or to aspire to that which he cannot achieve.’ In my mind, these are superficial delusions. ITe who enters the ivorld finds his level. It is the solitary being, the isolated individual alone in his solitude, who may be apt to miscal¬ culate his powers, and misunderstand his character. But action teaches him the truth, even if it be a stern one. Associa¬ tion offers him the best criticism in the world, and I will venture to say that if he belong to this Athenseum, though when he enters it he may think himself a genius, if nature has not given him a creative and passionate soul, before a week has elapsed he will become a very sober-minded indivi¬ dual. I wish to damp no youthful ardour. I can conceive what opportunities such an institution as this would have afforded to the suggestive mind of a youthful Arkwright. I can conceive what a nursing-mother such an institution must have been to the brood¬ ing genius of your illustrious and venerated Dalton. It is the asylum of the self-formed; it is the counsellor of those who want counsel; but it is not a guide that will mislead, and it is the last place that will fill the mind of man with false ideas and false conceptions. He reads a newspaper, and his conceit oozes out after reading a leading article. He refers to the library, and the calm wisdom of centuries and sages moder¬ ates the rash impulse of juvenescence. He finds new truths in the lecture-room, and he goes home with a conviction that he is not so learned as he imagined. In the dis¬ cussion of a great question with his equals in station, perhaps he finds he has his AND HIS TIMES. 75 superiors in intellect. These are the means by which the mind of man is brought to a healthy state, by which that self-knowledge that always has been lauded by sages may be most securely attained. It is a rule of uni¬ versal virtue, and from the senate to the counting-house will be found of universal application. Then, to the youth of Man¬ chester, representing the civic youth of this great county and this great district, I now appeal. Let it never he said again that the fortunes of this institution were in danger. Let them take advantage of this hour of prosperity calmly to examine and deeply to comprehend the character of that institution in which their best interests are involved, and which for them may afford a relaxation which brings no pang, and yields information which may bear them to for¬ tune. It is to them I appeal with con¬ fidence, because I feel I am pleading their cause—with confidence, because in them I repose my hopes. When nations fall, it is because a degenerate race intervenes between the class that created and the class that is doomed. Let them, then, remember what has been done for them. The leaders of their community have not been remiss in regard to their interests. Let them re¬ member that, when the inheritance devolves upon them, they are not only to enjoy, but to improve. They will some day succeed to the high places of this great community; let them recollect those who lighted the way for them; and when they have wealth, when they have authority, when they have power, let it not be said that they were deficient in public virtue and public spirit. When the torch is delivered to them, let them also light the path of human progress to educated man.” We are now approaching the period when the genius of the subject of this biography was first to exhibit itself in so marked a manner as to be recognized both by friend and foe, and to raise him at one bound to a position of supreme authority. He had closely watched the tactics of the prime minister, and the conclusion was gradually forcing itself upon his mind that Sir Bobert Peel was not the organizing and controlling spirit he had imagined him to be. He saw him almost entirely dependent upon others, paying servile heed to the wishes of the Opposition, listening helplessly to the suggestions of leagues for this measure and of associations for that measure, to the great danger of the cause he professed, and to the following he was supposed to lead. As the agitation with regard to free trade developed, Mr. Disraeli was the first to observe that the prime minister did not seem sure of him¬ self. There was an indecision in his move¬ ments and a silent yielding to external influences which, to the member for Shrews¬ bury, augured ill for the cause which had borne Sir Bobert Peel upon its tide to office. Mr. Disraeli and those who thought with him had no objection to the principles of free trade in the abstract—it was an old Tory measure, since Pitt was its first advo¬ cate—provided they rested upon a sound basis. He would give and take, but he would not consent to give without also being permitted to take. He knew, as we all know, that in the abstract the teaching of the free traders could not be disputed. It was as plain as that two and two made four. Let each nation freely interchange its respective produce—let the country enriched by coal and iron change its manu¬ factures for the grain and wine and silk of countries whose soil and climate are specially adapted for the production of such articles—and in the long run both the consuming and producing classes will reap the benefit. But the free trade must not be all on one side. If protection was to be abolished, reciprocity should be substi¬ tuted; if French wines and French silks were to enter British ports free of duty, British cotton and British cutlery should be allowed, on the same terms, to be stored up in the warehouses on French quays. Gladly would we receive the grain, and hemp, and hides, and tallow from the northern powers exempt from taxation. 76 THE EARL OF EEACONSFIELD provided we saw tlie ports of Russia and Sweden, Denmark and Germany, acting with the same liberality towards our hard¬ ware, our cutlery, and the produce of our factories. But to glut our markets with foreign goods imported duty free, whilst British goods exported to foreign ports would only be admitted on the payment of heavy imposts, was a most suicidal pol¬ icy—a policy which could only be carried out at the expense of several of our most important interests. Such were the views then held by Mr. Disraeli and the Pro¬ tectionists ; and it was because the member for Shrewsbury observed the prime minister gradually forsaking the cause he had vowed to support, and insidiously abandoning the party that had led him to power, that those bitter strictures were passed upon his conduct in the debates of 1845-46—that “ he was a parliamentary middle-man who bamboozled one party and plundered anotherthat he “ caught the Whigs bathing, and walked away with their clothes. He has left them in the full enjoyment of their liberal posi¬ tion, and he is himself a strict conservative of their garmentsthat he was “ a watcher of the atmosphere—a man who takes his observations, and when he finds the wind in a particular quarter, trims his sails to suit it.” “ Such a man,” cried the chagrined Protectionist, “ may be a powerful minister, but he is no more a great statesman than the man who gets up behind a carriage is a great whip.” Mr. Disraeli was not taken by surprise at the silent conversion of the prime minis¬ ter. Months before the repeal of the corn laws he had bade all Tories be on their guard, and had boldly stated that Protection in 1845 was in the same plight as Pro¬ testantism had been in 1828—about to be betrayed by the very man who had pro¬ mised to defend it. Then, as Sir Robert Peel played more and more into the hands of the leaguers, Mr. Disraeli openly severed himself from his former leader, and by all the arts of the most brilliant generalship, gradually became the mouthpiece of the dissatisfied section of the Tory party. “ The right honourable gentleman, ” he cried, “ came into power on the strength of our votes, but he would rely for the permanency of his ministry on his political opponents. He may be right — he may even, to a certain extent, be successful—in pursuing this line of conduct which he has adopted—in menacing his friends and cringing to his opponents; but I for one am disposed to look upon it as a success tending neither to the honour of the House nor to his own credit.” He spoke still more bitterly of the conduct of Peel on another occasion, when the agricultural interest was before the House, and summed up the character of the government in a phrase which will long be remembered. “Why, what has the right honourable gentleman not done for agriculture?” he sneered, when the country party expressed themselves dissatisfied. “ Before the meet¬ ing of parliament, the right honourable gentleman reconstructed his cabinet, and left out the minister of trade. There was a great compliment to agriculture ! It was the most marked thing I know. The agri¬ culturists, then, ought to be satisfied. And yet they complain! . . . What do they want ? Hot this tax to be taken off, or this act to be done. Ho. They complain of the ‘conduct’ of the right honourable gentleman. There is no doubt a difference in the right honourable gentleman’s demeanour as leader of the Opposition and minister of the Crown. But that is the old story; you must not contrast too strongly the hours of courtship with the years of possession. It is very true that the right honourable gentleman’s conduct is different. I remember him making his Protection speeches. They were the best speeches I ever heard. It was a great thing to hear the right honourable gentleman say, ‘ I would sooner be the leader of the gentlemen of England than possess the confidence of sovereigns.’ That was a grand thing. We do not hear much of the ‘ gentlemen of England ’ now. But what of that ? They have the pleasure AND HIS TIMES. 77 of memory—the charm of reminiscences. They were his first love; and though he may not kneel to them now as in the hour of passion, still they can recall the past; and nothing is more useless and unwise than these scenes of crimination and re¬ proach, for we know that, in all these cases, when the beloved object has ceased to charm, it is in vain to appeal to the feelings. You know that this is true. Every man almost has gone through it. My honour¬ able friends reproach the right honourable gentleman. The right honourable gentle¬ man does what he can to keep them quiet; he sometimes takes refuge in arro¬ gant silence, and sometimes he treats them with haughty frigidity; and if they know anything of human nature they would take the hint and shut their mouths. But they won’t. And what then happens ? What happens under all such circumstances ? The right honourable gentleman being compelled to interfere, sends down his valet, who says, in the genteelest manner, ‘We can have no whining here.’* And that, sir, is exactly the case of the great agricultural interest—that beauty which everybody wooed, and one deluded. There is a fatality in such charms, and we now seem to approach the catastrophe of her career. Protection appears to be in about the same condition that Protestantism was in in 1828. The country will draw its moral. For my part, if we are to have free trade, I, who honour genius, prefer that such measures should be proposed by the honourable member for Stockport (Mr. Cobden), than by one who, through skilful parliamentary manoeuvres, has tampered with the generous confidence of a great people and a great party. For myself, * Mr. Cobden had moved for a select committee to inquire into the causes and extent of the alleged existing agricultural distress, and into the effect of legislative protection upon the interests of landowners, tenant-farmers, and farm labourers. The motion was opposed on behalf of the government by Mr. Sidney Herbert, the secretary at war, in a rather indiscreet speech, in the course of ffhich he said that “ it was distasteful to him, as a member of the agricul¬ tural body, to be always coming to parliament whining for protection.” Mr. Disraeli’s allusion to this expression whining was received with tremendous cheering and rears of laughter from the Opposition. I care not what may be the result. Dis¬ solve, if you please, the parliament you have betrayed, and appeal to the people who, I believe, mistrust you. For me there remains this at least—the oppor¬ tunity of expressing thus publicly my belief that a Conservative, government is an organized hypocrisy .” Let us briefly sketch the history of the proceedings of this “ organized hypocrisy.’ 1 From the general principles of free trade Sir Bobert Peel never at any time withheld his approval. “I believe,” he said, when laying his new tariff before the House of Commons, “that on the general principles of free trade there is now no great differ¬ ence of opinion; and that all agree in the general rule that we ‘should purchase in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest.’” From the application of these principles he, however, excepted the sugar duties and the corn laws. He held that the abolition of the duties on corn would deal a most severe blow to the agricultural interest at home, whilst to remit the taxation on sugar would visit hardly upon our West India colonies, already terribly crippled by the emancipa¬ tion of their slaves. At this time there were four great parties in the state, each maintaining different views upon this im¬ portant question. There were the Whigs, who were now in favour of a fixed duty upon corn; there were the Tories, who favoured a varying duty; there were the ultra-Protectionists, who objected to any modification of the corn laws; and there were the Free Traders, who contested for the abolition of all duties upon corn. Sir Robert Peel, on taking office, was in favour of a varying duty; in the present agitation of the country he felt himself bound to re-consider the state of the laws affecting the importation of corn, and he believed that by the adoption of a sliding scale the compromise he so dearly loved would be effected between severe protection on the one hand and total abolition on the other. Accordingly he proposed that when home¬ grown wheat was at 50s. and under 51s, O 78 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD per quarter, the duty on foreign corn should stand at 20s.; when home-grown wheat rose to 54s., the duty should decline to 18s., and so on, until when home-grown wheat rose to 75s. and upwards, the duty should sink to Is. By the adoption of this plan he considered that the price of wheat •would be kept at a moderate level. But as the efforts of the corn law league increased in their intensity, as their teach¬ ing daily made fresh converts, and as the lower orders w T ere now as determined to have the corn laws repealed as they had been a few years ago to pass the Reform Bill, it began gradually to dawn both upon Sir Robert Reel as leader of the Conserva¬ tives, and upon Lord John Russell as leader of the Whigs, that the existing state of things could not be maintained. This opinion was all the more confirmed by an alarming evil that now appeared upon the scene. The poorer Irish, owing to their improvident habits, their lack of energy, and their natural love for the uncertainties of a half savage mode of existence, were entirely dependent for their means of sub¬ sistence upon the potato, and there was every prospect of this form of nourishment failing them owing to a terrible blight which had now attacked the roots of this vegetable. The Peel cabinet, in the midst of the agitation upon corn-law repeal, were called upon to face an Irish potato famine, fraught with all the miseries and seditions attendant upon such a visitation. The prime minister saw that in the event of so awful a catastrophe, the maintenance of an artificial restriction for the benefit of a particular class would excite the most dangerous criticism. He felt that the only solution of the difficulty, in spite of his past objections, was that advocated by the Manchester school—the absolute repeal of the corn laws. As in the days of the Catholic agitation, so now in the days of agrarian agitation, it was Ireland that forced the hand of the government. The position of Sir Robert Peel was em¬ barrassing. He had taken office pledged to resist repeal; his followers were composed of men greatly dependent upon the land for their rents and resources; to the squire and the farmer the abolition of the duties on corn would result in a grave loss of income. The agricultural interest had already murmured against the removal of various protective duties in the new tariff of the premier, and it was indisposed to yield further concessions. Already, as we have seen, “one solitary voice” on the Tory side of the House, with all the wit of mordant epigram, had declared that protection was on the eve of betrayal, and that it behoved its followers to keep strict vigil over their interests. Lord John Russell, however, was fettered by no such obstacles. To the mass who made up the larger portion of his supporters—the bankers, merchants, manufacturers, and smaller tradespeople, who derived their income from capital and not from land— the repeal of the corn laws would be a measure warmly welcomed, whilst its only opponents would be a few Whigs of the severer type. Thus, as matters then stood, both the head of the government and the leader of the Opposition had arrived at the same conclusion that the laws protective of agriculture must be expunged from the statute-book. The question now arose by whom were they to be repealed—by the Whigs under Lord John, or by the Conser¬ vatives “ educated ” up to the new opinions by their chief ? For some weeks Sir Robert hesitated as to the course to be adopted; then he was startled into sudden action by the famous Edinburgh letter. Whilst on a visit, in the November of 1845, to the “Modern Athens,” Lord John Russell had addressed a letter to his London constituents, commenting upon the state of affairs. In this now historical epistle he declared that the present condi¬ tion of the country, in regard to its supply of food, could not be viewed without appre¬ hension. “Forethought and bold precaution,” he said, “may avert any serious evils— indecision and procrastination may produce AND HIS TIMES. 79 a state of suffering which it is frightful to contemplate.” Parliament, he hinted in this cunning bid for office, had met and separated without affording any promise of seasonable relief; it became, therefore, the duty of the queen’s subjects to consider how the impending calamities could he averted, or at least mitigated. To effect this there was but one plan, the repeal of the corn laws. He candidly confessed that his views on this subject had under¬ gone a great alteration. “ I used to be of opinion,” wrote Lord John, “that corn was an exception to the general rules of politi¬ cal economy; hut observation and experi¬ ence have convinced me that we ought to abstain from all interference with the supply of food. Neither a government nor a legislature can ever regulate the corn market with the beneficial effects which the entire freedom of sale and purchase are sure of themselves to produce.” Let us then, he concluded, unite to put an end to a system which has been proved to he the blight of commerce, the bane of agriculture, the source of hitter divisions among classes, the cause of penury, fever, mortality, and crime among the people. After so frank an expression of opinion on the part of his rival, Sir Eohert Peel saw that further hesitation or delay would be most dangerous to his position. He summoned a cabinet council, and endea¬ voured to convince his colleagues that the entire repeal of the corn laws had now become not a matter of choice, but of political necessity. Like most short-sighted men, his inspection of all that came within his immediate ken was most minute, and he saw what few of the opponents of free trade at that time were able to perceive. As a rule, the protection of most industries only directly affects the minority; conse¬ quently the opposition such protection encounters is limited to the clique whose welfare is being especially affected. The protection of pig iron might agitate a class, but it Avould not excite a nation, for the simple reason that a large portion of the country can live independent of the rise and fall in the value of pig iron. The protection of corn, the most important article of food in the country, was, how¬ ever, a very different matter. With the exception of the agricultural interest, all the consuming classes were on this occasion united in their efforts to remove the restric¬ tion upon the manufacture of cheap bread. Consequently the Protectionists were a coterie against the nation, and in a free country like ours, when a minority en¬ deavours to suppress the views of an active and powerful majority, the issue of the struggle can have but one end. Sir Eobert Peel saw that the repeal of the corn laws had developed from a party question into a national question, and that resistance to the cry was daily becoming more and more impracticable. Lord Stanley and the advocates of protection, however, thought differently, and declined to adopt the opinions which the premier now held. They refused to be “ educated.” Unable to convert his cabinet to his views, there was only one honourable course for Sir Eobert Peel to pursue. Convinced that, if the corn laws were retained, Ireland would be laid low by famine, and throughout Great Britain there would be scarcity of food, he tendered his resignation, and it was accepted. Lord John Eussell was. intrusted with the task of forming an administration, but, owing to the refusal of Earl Grey to unite with him, he was unable to comply with his sovereign’s commands. Lord Stanley felt that he was not strong enough to succeed where Lord John had failed, and the consequence was that Sir Eobert Peel, pledged to carry repeal, resumed his post as prime min¬ ister. With the exception of Lord Stanley, who was succeeded by Mr. Gladstone, the ministry was the same as before the resig¬ nation of Sir Eobert. Never in the whole annals of parliamentary history was change of opinion more bitterly and more fiercely criticised than the conver¬ sion of Sir Eobert Peel from the principles 80 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD of protection to those of free trade. It was Mr. Disraeli’s opportunity, and he availed himself to the full of all the advantages the situation offered. A large section of the Tory party considered themselves betrayed by the leader they had trusted, and they were burning to express their indignation at the premier’s conduct, and to exhibit their opposition to a measure which they deemed would usher in the ruin of the agricultural cause. They were, however, simple country gentlemen not given to eloquence, and somewhat in awe, like boys of their schoolmaster, of the power and position of the cold, repellent Sir Robert Peel. They longed to denounce the arch¬ hypocrite and crush him with their invec¬ tive; but when they rose to address the House, their ideas passed away, and their abuse flowed tame and powerless from their passionate lips. And now Mr. Disraeli stepped in. Even in the opinion of his enemies his conduct on this occasion showed consummate tact and generalship. All the wealth of his eloquence, all his wit, his polished satire, his instinctive knowledge of the arts by which men are united and controlled, he now devoted to the cause of the forsaken Protectionists. The oratory they did not possess, the invectives they could not launch, the indignation they were powerless to express, were all centred in him, and through him the hate of the country party was focussed against the object of their wrath. Pierce as have been the denunciations which the House of Com¬ mons, in the course of its history, has had to listen to, it has never witnessed anything finer in the form of polished invective, and of humorous yet biting similes, than the philippics which the member for Shrewsbury now directed against the prime minister, until the cold, self-contained man writhed in torture, and at one time vowed to chal¬ lenge in mortal combat his pitiless critic. The time had indeed come when the House was pleased to hear Mr. Disraeli. Night after night, as he rose to the attack, he was listened to in the stillest silence, save when cheer after cheer broke from the lips of his followers, showing that the barbed arrow had winged its flight and had struck home. He was now no mere member of the House of Commons, but the representative of the cause of protection, and the nominal lieu¬ tenant but actual leader of that section of the Conservative party which had sepa¬ rated itself from the control of the prime minister. Nor in this opposition was there anything scheming or insincere. Mr. Dis¬ raeli looked upon the policy of protection as sound and logical. He held that if the corn laws were repealed, the farmers would be ruined, and the ruin of the farmers would destrov the landlord interest, and the over- throw of the landlord interest would be the triumph of democracy over constitutional¬ ism. Free trade in corn would lead to free trade in other commodities; and unless the principle was adopted by other nations, of which there was then no sign, it would act to the detriment of the commercial interests of the country. Has he been so completely wrong in his surmises ? Are the advocates of free trade as sanguine now of their policy as they were in the past ? With the ex¬ ception of England, the commercial tendency of every country is setting more and more towards protection. And can we look with unmixed satisfaction upon the present con¬ dition of England ? Our farmers, unable to compete with the importation of foreign grain and American meat, are throwing up their farms and seeking pastures new in the colonies and the United States, much to the crippling of the resources of the landlord.* Our cotton and woollen manu- * “ Meanwhile it may safely be urged that no more im¬ portant question ever demanded the serious attention of our government than how it may be possible to restore vitality and hope to the discouraged and declining agricultural interest in these islands. In England alone there are at this moment many thousands of acres—especially where the land is strong and fitted for the growth of wheat—lying idle from lach of tenants. Tenants with capital—and their name is legion—are to be found by the score who despair of being able to make two ends meet, and have withdrawn from the pursuit of agriculture, in which they were reared, and for which alone they are fitted. What is to be done? The question concerns Mr. Bright and the representatives of manu¬ facturing industries not less than noblemen and gentlemen who are ‘ acred up to the chin.’”— Morning Paper , June 9, 1881. AND HIS TIMES. 81 facturers openly assert that they are un¬ able to compete with the goods of foreign countries admitted untaxed into our ports. In spite of our coal and iron, our machinists complain that, owing to the cheapness of foreign labour, French and Belgian machin¬ ery can be imported at a less cost than it takes to produce in this country. What have become of the looms of the silk-weavers of Coventry and Spitalfields, of our ship¬ building trade on the Thames, of our sugar refineries ? On all sides we hear of the dullness of trade, of the decline in the carrying trade of our great railway com¬ panies, of the ruinous conflicts between labour and capital, and that trade is fast leaving the country. In spite of the pro¬ phets who assured us that a reaction in England was impossible against free trade, have we not heard, not silent and hole- in-the-corner murmurs, but opinions openly expressed as to the advisability of returning to limited protection, or for reciprocity in free trade ? * Though the ruling spirit of the Pro¬ tectionists at this time was undoubtedly Mr. Disraeli, the nominal leader of the disaffected party was Lord George Bentinck, a son of the Duke of Portland. Lord George had “ sat in eight parliaments without having taken part in any great * A leading journal thus comments upon the Preston elec¬ tion, which was gained by the Tory candidate openly advocat¬ ing a return to limited protection:—“ Mr. Ecroyd avowed himself a qualified Protectionist, and the operatives said ditto with enthusiasm, in spite of skilful appeals borrowed from the old anti-corn law days—though they have long since lost their charm—to pronounce for the big loaf against the little one. Is it, then, to be inferred that the Preston working men are Protectionists ? Opinion lately has ripened so fast in a particular direction that, improbable as it may seem, there may be ground before long to discuss a much wider question—that is, whether the English operatives as a whole are, if not Protectionists, at least in favour of reciprocity to the extent of imposing duties on manufactured goods. . . . . It is not a little remarkable that the demand for reciprocity, or for something in the nature of revived pro¬ tection for native industry of all kinds, emanates at this moment chiefly from the manufacturing classes. The truth is that dull trade and hostile tariffs are working a silent revolution in the sentiments of large classes who have never thought out economical questions at all, but who are simply influenced by considerations of self-interest; and, unless trade speedily revive, the politicians who appeal to these considerations are sure to gain suffrages. Even Mr. Gladstone’s reply to the deputation that waited on him about the sugar bounties betrays a certain deference to this feeling. Its further developments will be waited with curiosity.” VOL. I. debate.” In his youth he had seen service as a soldier, and at one time had been private secretary to George Canning, who had married a sister of the Duchess of Portland; he had long been on the turf, and had occupied himself with pursuits not generally associated with the drudgery and application of statesmanship; disgusted, in the first instance, with the conduct of the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel towards Canning, he withdrew his support from the Tories and upheld the policy of the Whigs; on the secession of Lord Stanley he became a member of the great Conservative Opposition until, again disgusted with the “ treachery ” of Sir Robert Peel, he enrolled himself amongst the Protectionists, and, from his name and talents, was raised to the position of leader of the deserted cause. “ During three years,” writes Mr. Disraeli, “ under cir¬ cumstances of great difficulty, he displayed some of the highest qualities of political life; courage and a lofty spirit; a mastery of details which experience usually alone confers; a quick apprehension and a clear intelligence; indomitable firmness; prompt¬ ness, punctuality, and perseverance which never failed; an energy seldom surpassed; and a capacity for labour which was perhaps never equalled.” Still, in spite of these gifts, it is very doubtful whether, if it had not been for the advocacy of Mr. Disraeli, the Protectionists would have been able to make common cause against the prime minister, and finally drive him from power. It was the eloquence, the wit, the sarcasms of the member for Shrewsbury, and of him alone, that made the Protectionists formi¬ dable, and under his splendid generalship transformed them from a section into a party, and led them on to a victory they had never dreamed of. Like a second Coriolanus, he could say, “ Alone I did it.” After Peel’s restoration to power, Mr. Disraeli at once showed the course he intended to pursue. At the meeting of the Houses, there was an angry debate on the address, and the speech of the member 11 82 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD for Shrewsbury was certainly not inclined to throw oil upon the troubled waters. He opened fire by congratulating the eminent statesman at the head of the government, who having served under four sovereigns, yet only during the last three years had found it necessary to change his convictions on that important topic—the corn laws— which must have presented itself for more than a quarter of a century to his con¬ sideration. Then in one of his happiest similes, he compared the policy of Peel to that of a renegade servant of the sultan. “ Sir,” he cried, addressing the Speaker amid the cheers and laughter of the House, “ there is a difficulty in finding a parallel to the position of the right hon. gentleman in any part of history. The only parallel which I can find is an incident in the late war in the Levant, which was terminated by the policy of the noble lord opposite. I remember when that great struggle was taking place, when the exist¬ ence of the Turkish empire was at stake, the late sultan, a man of great energy and fertile in resources, was determined to fit out an immense fleet to maintain his empire. Accordingly a vast armament was collected. It consisted of many of the finest ships that were ever built. The crews were picked men, the officers were the ablest that could be found, and both officers and men were rewarded before they fought. There never was an armament which left the Dardanelles similarly appointed since the day of Solyman the Great. The sultan personally witnessed the departure of the fleet; all the muftis prayed for the success of the expedition, as all the muftis here prayed for the success of the last general election. Away went the fleet; but what was the sultan’s con¬ sternation when the lord high admiral steered at once into the enemy’s port! Now, sir, the lord high admiral on that occa¬ sion was very much misrepresented. He, too, was called a traitor and he,too, vindicated himself. ‘ True it is,’ said he, ‘ I did place myself at the head of this valiant armada —true it is that my sovereign embraced me—true it is that all the muftis in the empire offered up prayers for my success; but I have an objection to war. I see no use in prolonging the struggle, and the only reason I had for accepting the command was that I might terminate the contest by betraying my master.’ And, sir, these reasons offered by a man of great plausibility, of vast adroitness, have had their effect; for you may be surprised at it, but I assure you it is a fact—which, by the way, the gallant officer opposite (Commander Napier) can testify—that he is at this moment the first lord of the admiralty at Constantinople, under the new reign.” Then proceeding with his caustic criti¬ cisms, he sneered at Peel’s famous advice about registration, which simply meant, he said, “ that we were to register to make him a minister; ” he described the premier as a man who never originated an idea, a watcher of the atmosphere, and no more entitled to be called a great statesman than the man who got up behind a carriage was entitled to be called a great whip. “ Do not then,” he cried, “ because you see a great personage giving up his opinions, do not cheer him on, do not yield so ready a reward to political tergiversation. Above all, maintain the line of demarcation between parties; for it is only by maintaining the independence of party that you can maintain the integrity of public men and the power and influence of parliament itself.” But the attack in which all these minor onslaughts culminated was reserved for the third night of the debate on the repeal of the corn laws. An English audience, though from certain intellectual imperfections it fails to appreciate the incisive invective of French satire, likes hard hitting; and it must be confessed that on that memorable night, the night of May 15, 1846, Mr. Dis¬ raeli hit very hard—still it was legitimate fighting, there were no blows below the belt, all were delivered straight from the shoulder, and every stroke told. Mr. Dis¬ raeli was not a combative man, but when he fought he fought in earnest; he did not AND HIS TIMES. play with his weapons, nor did he fence with the buttons on his foils. His speech, even at this distance of time, and upon a subject which is never likely to be revived, is full of interest on account of its severity and its smartness. He was not, he said, one of those who had ever spoken with disrespect of that commercial confedera¬ tion which now exercised so great an influence in this country. Though he dis¬ approved of their doctrines, though he believed from the bottom of his heart that their practice would eventually be as per¬ nicious to the manufacturing interest as to the agricultural interest of this country, still he admired men of abilities who, con¬ vinced of a great truth and proud of their energies, banded themselves together for the purpose of supporting it, and came for¬ ward devoting their lives to what they considered to be a great cause. This country could only exist by free discus¬ sion. If it were once supposed that opinions were to be put down by any other means, then, whatever might be our politi¬ cal opinions, liberty vanished. If they thought the opinions of the Anti-Corn Law League dangerous, if they thought their sys¬ tem was founded on error and must lead to confusion, it was open in a free country like England, for men who held opposite ideas, to resist the League with the same earnestness by all legitimate means—by the same active organization, and by all the intellectual power they could command. But what had happened on this occasion ? A body of gentlemen, able and adroit men, came forward and professed contrary doc¬ trines to those of these new economists. They placed themselves at the head of that great popular party who were adverse to their ideas, and professing their opinions, they climbed and clambered into power by having accepted, or rather by having eagerly sought the trust. Hence it followed that the body whom they repre¬ sented, trusting in their leaders, not un¬ naturally slumbered at their posts. They concluded that their opinions were repre¬ 83 sented in the state. It was not for them or the millions outside the House to come forward and organize a power, in order to meet the hostile movements of Mr. Cobden. Ho, they trusted to others—to one who, by accepting or rather by seizing that post, obtained the greatest place in the country, and at that moment governed England. And now what had happened ? The right honourable gentleman, the first minister, had betrayed his friends, and had sold his party. Let him congratulate himself upon his complete success in having deceived those who so implicitly trusted in him. This was severe, but the sting was to follow. The conclusion of the speech is too exquisite to admit of extract or compression. “And now, sir,” he said, with folded arms and with that modest downcast look which generally preceded something very pungent and humorous, “And now, sir, I must say, in vindication of the right hon. gentleman, that I think great injustice has been done to him throughout these debates. A perhaps justifiable misconception has universally prevailed. Sir, the right hon. gentleman has been accused of foregone treachery—of long-meditated deception— of a desire unworthy of a great statesman, even if an unprincipled one, of always having intended to abandon the opinions by professing which he rose to power. Sir, I entirely acquit the right hon. gentleman of any such intention. I do it for this reason, that when I examine the career of this minister, which has now filled a great space in the parliamentary history of this country, I find that for between thirty and forty years, from the days of Mr. Horner to the days of the hon. member for Stock- port, that right hon. gentleman has traded on the ideas and intelligence of others. His life has been one great appropriation clause. He is a burglar of others’ intellect. Search the index of Beatson, from the days of the Conqueror to the termination of the last reign, there is no statesman who has committed political petty larceny on so great a scale. I believe, therefore, when 84 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD the right hon. gentleman undertook our cause on either side of the House, that he was perfectly sincere in his advocacy; but as, in the course of discussion, the con¬ ventionalisms which he received from us crumbled away in his grasp, feeling no creative power to sustain him with new arguments, feeling no spontaneous senti¬ ments to force upon him conviction, reduced at last to defending the noblest cause, one based on the most high and solemn prin¬ ciples, upon the ‘ burdens peculiar to agri¬ culture ’—the right hon. gentleman, faithful to the law of his nature, imbibed the new doctrines, the more vigorous, bustling, popular, and progressive doctrines, as he had imbibed the doctrines of Mr. Horner —as he had imbibed the doctrines of every leading man in this country for thirty or forty years, with the exception of the doctrine of parliamentary reform, which the Whigs very wisely led the country upon, and did not allow to grow sufficiently mature to fall into the mouth of the right hon. gentleman. Sir, the right hon. gentle¬ man tells us that he does not feel humiliated. Sir, it is impossible for any one to know what are the feelings of another. Feeling depends upon temperament; it depends upon the organization of the animal that feels. But this I will tell the right hon. gentleman, that though he may not feel humiliated, his country ought to feel humili¬ ated. Is it so pleasing to the self-com¬ placency of a great nation, is it so grateful to the pride of England, that one who, from the position he has contrived to occupy, must rank as her foremost citizen, is one of whom it may be said, as Dean Swift said of another minister, that ‘ he is a gen¬ tleman who has the perpetual misfortune to be mistaken! ’ And, sir, even now, in this last scene of the drama, when the party whom he unintentionally betrayed is to be unintentionallv annihilated—even now, in this the last scene, the right hon. gentleman, faithful to the law of his being, is going to pass a project which, I believe it is matter of notoriety, is not of his own invention. It is one which may have been modified, but which I believe has been offered to another government, and by that govern¬ ment has been wisely rejected. Why, sir, these are matters of general notoriety. After the day that the right hon. gentleman made his first exposition of his scheme, a gentleman well known in this House, and learned in all the political secrets behind the scenes, met me, and said, ‘Well, what do you think of your chief’s plan ? ’ Not knowing exactly what to say, but taking up a phrase which has been much used in the House, I observed, ‘Well, I suppose it’s a “ great and comprehensive ” plan.’ ‘ Oh! ’ he replied, ‘ we know all about it! It was offered to us! It is not his plan; it’s Popkins’ plan! ’ And is England to be governed by ‘ Popkins’ plan V Will he go to the country with it ? Will he go with it to that ancient and famous England that once was governed by statesmen—by Burleighs and by Walsinghams, by Boling- brokes and by Walpoles, by a Chatham and a Canning—will he go to it with this fantastic scheming of some presumptuous pedant ? I will not believe it. I have that confidence in the common sense, I will say the common spirit of our countrymen, that I believe they will not long endure this huckstering tyranny of the treasury bench—these political pedlars that bought their party in the cheapest market, and sold us in the dearest. “I know, sir, that there are many who believe that the time is gone by when one can appeal to those high and honest im¬ pulses that were once the mainstay and the main element of the English character. I know, sir, that we appeal to a people debauched by public gambling—stimulated and encouraged by an inefficient and short¬ sighted minister. I know that the public mind is polluted with economic fancies; a depraved desire that the rich may become richer without the interference of industry and toil. I know, sir, that all confidence in public men is lost. But, sir, I have faith in the primitive and enduring elements AND HIS TIMES. 85 of the English character. It may he vain now, in the midnight of their intoxication, to tell them that there will be an awakening of bitterness; it may be idle now, in the spring-tide of their economic frenzy, to warn them that there may be an ebb of trouble. But the dark and inevitable hour will arrive. Then, wlfen their spirit is softened by misfortune, they will recur to those principles that made England great, and which, in our belief, can alone keep England great. Then, too, perchance they may remember, not with unkindness, those who, betrayed and deserted, were neither ashamed nor afraid to struggle for the ‘good old cause’—the cause with which are associated principles the most popular, sentiments the most entirely national—the cause of labour—the cause of the people— the cause of England.” We know the result. The debate, after having occupied the 11th and 12th of May, was adjourned to the 15th of that month, “ when, after a discussion of perhaps unex¬ ampled excitement in the House of Com¬ mons, the division was called at four o’clock in the morning of Saturday, and, in a House of 560 members, the third reading of the Bill for the Repeal of the Corn Laws was carried by a majority of 98.” The conduct of Sir Robert Peel on this memorable occasion has, as we all know, given rise to much comment and adverse criticism; yet, after a careful review of the state of affairs at that date, and making every allowance for the soured hopes of the Protectionists, it seems to us that harsher measure has been dealt out to him than he deserved. The career of Peel is certainly one open to criticism. As we read his life we are dazzled by no great brilliancy of intellectual power; our pulse does not beat with a quicker throb as we listen to gener¬ ous thoughts and watch the deeds which elevate men above the dead level of human nature. There is little that is great or noble or chivalrous in his career. Yet, on the other hand, though narrow, commonplace, and perhaps selfish, we can find nothing which reflects upon his political character. He changed his opinions, but he frankly owned the reasons why he changed them ; and though those reasons prove him to be short¬ sighted and hasty in arriving at his con¬ clusions, yet his honour passes through the trial unscathed. It is unfortunate for a statesman to be perpetually mistaken; but it is certainly better for him to candidly avow that his judgment has been in error than to pursue a policy which he knows to be mischievous, in order to save appear¬ ances, and to preserve a culpable consistency. Sir Robert Peel has been accused of treachery for the part he played in repealing the corn laws; but was it possible for him to play any other part, considering the position in which he was placed, and bearing in mind that human nature is not devoid of ambition ? He had changed his views with regard to agrarian protection, for on examination he had found that the corn laws were imprac¬ ticable. He had compared the results of periods of abundance and low prices with periods of scarcity and high prices, and he had come to the conclusion that protection was not tenable. He did not believe that the rate of wages varied with the price of food, or that with high prices wages would necessarily vary in the same ratio. He saw that protection, according to his view of the question, was pernicious. It had been said that because England laboured under a heavy debt and high rate of taxa¬ tion, she must be protected from competi¬ tion with foreign industry. He argued differently, for the experience of the last three years had taught him that “a large debt and heavy taxation were best encoun¬ tered by abundance and cheapness of pro¬ visions, which rather alleviated than added to the burden.” Converted to this view—for conversion was not with him a rare occurrence— he endeavoured to impress his own opin¬ ions upon his colleagues, but without success. Then feeling that it was im¬ possible for him to oppose any longer the repeal of the corn laws, he tendered his 86 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD resignation. Lord John Russell, as we have seen, was unable to constitute a cabinet. The Protectionists under Lord Stanley were not strong enough to take office. Consequently Sir Robert Peel was again sent for, and it fell to him to repeal the bated impost. Where was the treachery? He had avowed his change of opinion; and for the matter of that, if he had changed his opinions upon free trade, so had Lord John Russell; he had endeavoured to bring his cabinet to his way of thinking ; he had failed in the attempt, and had given his opponents the opportunity both of abolishing the restric¬ tions upon corn and of confirming the principles of protection ; his rivals were unable to avail themselves of his offer, and thus it became his duty to be the instru¬ ment in passing this great measure. Where was the treachery ? “ It appears to me,” writes Lord Dalling and Bulwer, “ that the fact that he had resigned office on changing his policy, and that he did not return to it until every other ministerial combination had failed, rendered his course on this occasion more clear than on the Catholic question. To accuse him under such cir¬ cumstances of changing his views, in order to retain his office, is as absurd as unjust. He is not even subject to the charge of retaining power after changing the opinions that he entertained on receiving it. His conduct appears to me to have been dic¬ tated by the purest patriotism, and the most complete sacrifice of personal ambition to public motive.” Nor did he take credit where it was not due. The repeal of the corn laws was not owing to the efforts of Lord John Russell, nor to the support of the Whigs, nor to the advocacy of Peel and the party he led. “ The name,” cried Sir Robert, “ which ought to be, and will be, associated with the success of these measures, is the name of one who, acting I believe from pure and from disinterested motives, has with untiring energy made appeals to our reason, and has enforced those appeals with an eloquence the more to be admired because it was unaffected and unadorned. The name which ought to be chiefly associated with the success of these measures is the name of Richard Cobden.” The Protectionists, however, declined to take this view of the prime minister. He had divided the party in twain, and had deserted the cause which had placed him in power. He was a traitor, an apos¬ tate, a scheming adventurer. One hope now animated their breasts—the hope of revenge. “Proud in their numbers,” writes Mr. Disraeli, in his biography of Lord George Bentinck, “ confident in their dis¬ cipline, and elate with their memorable resistance, the protectionist party as a body had always assumed that when the occasion was ripe the career of the minister might be terminated.” But how was it to be terminated ? How was Sir Robert Peel to be turned out ? This was the great question which occupied the musing hours of a Whitsun recess. After much deliberation, it was resolved to oppose the Irish Coer¬ cion Bill, which Peel had introduced as a measure of urgent necessity, and had then shelved until the passing of the Corn Bill, in order not to irritate the Irish faction. The Protectionists had never approved of the Coercion Bill; but beneath the magic wand of Peel they had agreed to its first reading. They now resolved to unite with the Whigs and defeat the measure on the second reading. “It is time,” cried Lord George Bentinck, “ that atonement should be made to the betrayed honour of parlia¬ ment and the betrayed constituencies of the empire. . . . The time has now come when they who love the treason that has recently been committed, though they hate the traitor, should join with those who sit on the protectionist benches, in showing that they do not approve the recent conduct of ministers.” This vindictive cry was no idle threat. The bill came before the Housl for the second reading. Member after member rose up to advocate it or to oppose it. Then at a late hour of the night the galleries were cleared, the division called, and the question put. We have an account AND HIS TIMES. 87 of tlie memorable scene that ensued from the pen of Mr. Disraeli, who was a witness of the event he so graphically describes :— “In almost all previous divisions,” he writes, “ where the fate of a government had been depending, the vote of every member with scarcely an exception had been anticipated: that was not the case in the present instance, and the direction which members took as they left their seats was anxiously watched. More than a hundred protectionist members followed the minister; more than eighty avoided the division, a few of these, however, had paired; nearly the same number followed Lord George Bentinck. But it was not merely their numbers that attracted the anxious observation of the treasury bench as the Protectionists passed in defile before the minister to the hostile lobby. It was impossible that he could have marked them without emotion: the flower of that great party which had been so proud to follow one who had been so proud to lead them. They were men, to gain whose hearts and the hearts of their fathers had been the aim and exultation of his life. They had extended to him an unlimited confidence and an admiration without stint. They had stood by him in the darkest hour, and had borne him from the depths of political despair to the proudest of living positions. Bight or wrong, they were men of honour, breeding, and refinement, high and generous charac¬ ter, great weight and station in the country, which they had ever placed at his disposal. They had been not only his followers, but his friends; had joined in the same pastimes, drank from the same cup, and in the plea¬ santness of private life had often forgotten together the cares and strife of politics. “He must have felt something of this, while the Manners, the Somersets, the Ben- tincks, the Lowthers, and the Lennoxes, passed before him. And those country gentlemen, ‘those gentlemen of England/ of whom, but five years ago, the very same building was ringing with his pride of being the leader—if his heart were hardened to Sir Charles Burrell, Sir William Jolliffe, Sir Charles Knightly, Sir John Trollope, Sir Edward Kerrison, Sir John Tyrell, he surely must have had a pang, when his eye rested on Sir John Yarde Buller, his choice and pattern country gentleman, whom he had himself selected and invited but six years back to move a vote of want of con¬ fidence in the Whig government, in order, against the feeling of the court, to install Sir Bobert Peel in their stead. “ They trooped on, all the men of metal and large-acred squires, whose spirit he had so often quickened, and whose counsel he had so often solicited in his fine Conserva¬ tive speeches in Whitehall Gardens—Mr. Bankes, with a parliamentary name of two centuries, and Mr. Christopher, from that broad Lincolnshire which protection had created; and the Mileses and the Henleys were there; and the Duncombes, the Lid¬ dells, and the Yorkes; and Devon had sent there the stout heart of Mr. Buck; and Wiltshire, the pleasant presence of Walter Long. Mr. Newdegate was there, whom Sir Bobert had himself recommended to the confidence of the electors of Warwick¬ shire, as one of whom he had the highest hopes; and Mr. Alderman Thompson was there, who, also through Sir Bobert’s selec¬ tion, had seconded the assault upon the Whigs, led on by Sir John Buller. But the list is too long; or good names remain behind. “ When Prince Metternich was informed at Dresden, with great ostentation, that the emperor had arrived—‘Yes, but without his army/ was the reply. Sir Bobert Peel was still first minister of England, as Napo¬ leon remained emperor for a while after Moscow. Each perhaps for a moment had indulged in hope. I is so difficult for those who are on the pinnacle of life to realize disaster. They sometimes contemplate it in their deep and far-seeing calculations, but it is only to imagine a contingency which their resources must surely baffle; they sometimes talk of it to their friends, and oftener of it to their enemies, but it is 88 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. only as an insurance of their prosperity and as an offering to propitiate their Nemesis. They never believe in it. “ The news that the government were not only beaten, but by a majority so large as 73, began to circulate. An incredulous murmur passed it along the treasury bench. “‘They say we are beaten by 73]’ whis¬ pered the most important member of the cabiliet in a tone of surprise to Sir Robert Peel. “Sir Robert did not reply or even turn his head. He looked very grave, and ex¬ tended his chin, as was his habit when he was annoyed and cared not to speak. He began to comprehend his position, and that the emperor was without his army.” He had lost his army, and he went to Windsor to deliver up the seals of office. On June 29 he informed the House that the queen had accepted the resignation of the cabinet. In withdrawing from his position he briefly reviewed the proceedings of the last five years. He regretted the loss of those who had seceded from him; yet, in carrying the measure which had led to his fall from power, he had been actuated alone by a desire to promote the best interests of the country. He spoke of his defeat as an event not to be regretted, but to be accepted as a just chastisement of his error in having supported principles which he had been compelled, to abandon. His closing words were among the most impressive that had ever fallen from his lips:— “In relinquishing power,” he said in his most solemn tones, and amid the stillest silence, v “ I shall leave a name severely censured, I fear, by many who, on public grounds, deeply regret the severance of party ties—deeply regret that severance, not from interested or party motives, but from the firm conviction that fidelity to party engagements—the existence and maintenance of a great party — consti¬ tutes a powerful instrument of government I shall surrender power severely censured also by others who, from no interested motives, adhere to the principle of protec¬ tion, considering the maintenance of it to be essential to the welfare and interests of the country; I shall leave a name exe¬ crated by every monopolist who, from less honourable motives, clamours for protection because it conduces to his own individual benefit; but it may be that I shall leave a name sometimes remembered with expres¬ sions of good-will in the abodes of those whose lot it is to labour, and to earn their daily bread by the sweat of their brow, when they shall recruit their exhausted strength with abundant and untaxed food, the sweeter because it is no longer leavened with a sense of injustice.” CHAPTER V. WHIG ASCENDANCY. On the resignation of Sir Robert Peel, an administration was formed under Lord John Russell, who, of course, took office as first lord of the treasury. Lord Palmerston, who had already made a reputation for himself as a minister, who would not truckle to a foreign power, though the tendency of his policy was then too much towards unneces¬ sary interference, held the seals again as foreign secretary; that dreariest of debaters, but most painstaking of administrators, Sir Charles Wood, controlled our finances as chancellor of the exchequer; Sir George Grey presided over the home office; and Lord Grey was colonial secretary. With the exception of the prime minister and Lord Palmerston, the cabinet was certainly not a brilliant one, and it required all its eloquence and administrative capacity to deal with the grave questions which were spring¬ ing up on every side, and overclouding with their ominous shade the political horizon. The stability of the government was depen¬ dent entirely upon the continuance of the feud between the ex-premier and the pro¬ tectionists. Three great parties represented the feeling of the House: the Whigs, who were in power; the Conservatives, who still adhered to the fallen fortunes of Sir Robert Peel; and the Protectionists, under the nominal leadership of Lord George Ben- tinck. Thus on any measure brought up for discussion, a fusion between the Peelites and the Protectionists would place the government in a minority. Sir Robert Peel, however, had no intention of bridging over the existing breach ; for he knew that if the Conservatives came into power, he could not hope to be reinstated as head of the cabinet. He resolved, therefore, to support the policy of Lord John Russell. “Peel,” VOL. I. writes Lord Palmerston, “ seems to have made up his mind that, for a year or two, he cannot hope to form a party, and that he must give people a certain time to forget the events of last year ; in the meanwhile, it is evident that he does not wish that any other government should be formed out of the people on his side of the House, because of that government he would not be a mem¬ ber. For these reasons, and also because he sincerely thinks it best that we should for the present remain in, he gives us very cordial support, as far as he can without losing his independent position.” On taking his seat in the House of Com¬ mons, at the meeting of parliament, Nov. 18, 1847, Mr. Disraeli had ceased to repre¬ sent Shrewsbury. His brilliant defence of the agricultural interest, the co-leadership he enjoyed with Lord George Bentinck, and the influence he possessed over the Protec¬ tionists, all marked him out for the position of a knight of the shire. It was felt that the spokesman of the party which watched over the welfare of the agri¬ cultural interest should represent no con¬ stituency less than that of a county. By the purchase of his small but charming estate of Hughenden Manor, Mr. Disraeli was now enrolled among the landed gentry of his beloved Buckinghamshire. He was asked to stand for the county, and he gladly accepted the invitation. In his address he alluded to the repeal of the corn laws; he disapproved of that measure. “ Notwith¬ standing this, however, I am not one of those who would abet or attempt factiously or forcibly to repeal the measure of 1846.” He appeared before them not as the organ of any section or the nominee of any indi¬ vidual. “All that I can offer yon,” lie 12 00 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD said, “ is the devotion of such energies as I possess; all that I aspire to is to serve you as becomes the representative of a great, undivided, and historic county, that has achieved vast results for our popular liberty, our parliamentary reputation, and our na¬ tional greatness.” Then he flattered local vanity, and made the hearts of his Buck¬ inghamshire hearers swell with honest pride. “ The parliamentary constitution of Eng¬ land,” he cried, “was born in the bosom of the Chiltern Hills, as to this day our parliamentary career is terminated amongst its Hundreds. The parliamentary consti¬ tution of England was established when Mr. Hampden rode up to Westminster, sur¬ rounded by his neighbours. Buckingham¬ shire did that for England. It has done more. It gave us the British constitution in the seventeenth century, and it created the British empire in the eighteenth. All the great statesmen of that century were born, or bred, or lived in the county. Throw your eye over the list—it is a glori¬ ous one—from Shelburne to Granville. Travel from Wycombe to Buckingham, from the first Lord Lansdowne, the most accomplished minister this country ever produced, to the last of our classic states¬ men. Even the sovereign genius of Chat¬ ham was nursed in the groves of Stowe and the temjpla quam dilecta, of Cobham, and it was beneath his oaks at Beaconsfield that Mr. Burke poured forth those divine effusions that vindicated the social system and reconciled the authority of law with the liberty of men. And in our time, faith¬ ful to its character and its mission, amid a great parliamentary revolution, Bucking¬ ham called a new political class into exist¬ ence, and enfranchised you and the farmers of England by the Chanclos clause.” Mr. Disraeli was returned without op¬ position, and as long as he sat in the House of Commons the county of Bucks was ever loyal to him. He never had occasion to represent any other constituency. He was no silent member. Upon all the leading measures advocated by the govern¬ ment, the voice of Mr. Disraeli was heard. He sympathized with the half-ruined owners of sugar plantations in our West India islands, and opposed the proposal that sugars, which were the produce of slave labour, and sugars the produce of free labour, should be admitted into the home market on a footing of perfect equality. “ Having deprived our colonies,” he said, “ of those successful means of general com¬ petition, it would seem that the metropolis was at least bound to secure them a home market. If the consequence of such a monopoly were a dear article, the increased price must be considered as an amercement for the luxury of a philanthropy not suffi¬ ciently informed of the complicated circum¬ stances with which it had to deal. . . . The movement of the middle classes for the abolition of slavery was virtuous, but it was not wise. It was an ignorant movement. It showed a want of knowledge both of the laws of commerce and the stipulations of treaties ; and it has alike ruined the colonies and aggravated the slave trade. . . . The plea of the free-traders for the admission of slave-grown sugar, on the ground of incon¬ sistency in excluding it since we admitted other products of slave-grown labour, can be characterized only by an epithet too harsh for polite composition when we recol¬ lect that, when the whole community shrunk from the abomination of consuming the slave-grown sugar of our own colonies, they had then for years, nay, in some instances almost for centuries, been in the habit of drinking slave-grown coffee, smoking slave- grown tobacco, and spinning slave-grown cotton. They therefore took their resolution with a full knowledge of these inconsistent accessories. The history of the abolition of slavery by the English and its consequences would be a narrative of ignorance, injustice, blundering, waste, and havoc, not easily paralleled in the history of mankind.” He also warmly supported the measure of Lord George Bentinck for intersecting Ireland with railways, the expense of con¬ structing which was to be shared between AND HIS TIMES. 91 private companies and the government. By this means a handsome dividend would be returned to shareholders, whilst ample work would he found for the idle and destitute Irish. The proposal was, however, opposed by the government, though they so far expressed their approval of its principle by borrowing some of the details of the scheme a few months afterwards. When a period of severe commercial distress had set in, and the government were at their wit’s end, hesitating whether to suspend the Bank Charter Act or not, Mr. Disraeli explained that the state of the country was nothing less than the logical result of free trade, which, as then conducted, had caused a perpetual outflow of gold in order to purchase corn and other goods which foreign nations declined to sell or barter. In a careful speech he reviewed the foreign policy of Lord Palmerston, and argued that the power of England, if exercised in a proper and judicious manner, was an in¬ fluence that no foreign nation could ignore. “ England,” he said, alluding to the alleged influence of France in Spain, and Russia in Germany, “England held the balance, and if she was conscious of her position, and exerted her influence with firmness and dis¬ cretion, she might obtain and enjoy the blessings of peace, and hand them down to posterity.” These remarks he made especially to apply to the Spanish marriages and the extinction of the free state of Cracow by Russia, in direct violation of the treaty of Vienna. A question now came before the House which, since it appealed very closely to the toleration which was one of the chief features of Mr. Disraeli’s political creed and to those sympathies with his race which he had never hesitated to express, is deserving of fuller treatment. At the recent general election the citizens of London had thought fit to return as one of their representatives Baron Rothschild, a Hebrew merchant of great wealth and high standing in the city; and Lord John Russell, also one of the members of the metropolis, had pledged himself to procure admission for his new colleague into the House of Commons. As the law then stood, the doors of parliament were closed to all who refused to declare their accept¬ ance of the clauses contained in the oath necessary for admission “ on the true faith of a Christian.” This reservation naturally excluded all Jews from entertaining the hope of parliamentary honours, and though the matter had often been discussed by the House, the feeling of the majority was against the expelling clause being rescinded. The question now arose whether Baron Rothschild should be admitted without being compelled to subscribe to this form of oath. An important debate was ex¬ pected which would call forth all the passions and prejudices of men, and the result of the controversy was looked for with no little interest, and on the part of the more conservative of the population, with some trepidation. Of late years re¬ ligious toleration had made advances; the Roman Catholic had been emancipated, and the Test and Corporation Acts had been repealed. But the Papist, however super¬ stitious, and the Dissenter, however narrow¬ minded, were both Christians; thus there was nothing inconsistent in permitting them to have a part in the legislation of a Christian country. To admit the Jew was, however, to assert the principle that there was no necessary connection between politics and Christianity, and that the English constitution was based on religious equality. Yet the existence of a church by law established plainly contra¬ dicts this principle of equality. By the Act of Settlement it has been laid down that the sovereign of these realms must be one in communion with the Church of England. Archbishops and bishops of the Church of England, and the ministers of no other religious organization, constitute an essential element in the composition of the House of Lords. Clergymen of the Church of England, and they alone, are ineligible for the House of Commons, whilst ministers 92 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD of other bodies can be freely elected. Again, every citizen who does not profess a creed is legally supposed to be a member of the Established Church, while no such presumption is ever raised in favour of any other religious community. We must also remember that we are dealing with a time when the Divorce Court was not established, when church rates were levied, when the Irish Church was still in existence, when the Universities Tests Acts had not been repealed, when in fact the Established Church of England was the sacred ark on which no man should lay hands profanely. The admission of the Jew into the legislature touched therefore the very quick of our religious belief. At one time it had been necessary for a member of parliament to be a follower of the teaching of the Church of England; then the principle of toleration had been ex¬ tended to admit the Roman Catholic and the Dissenter; and now it was argued that toleration should dissolve itself into a re¬ ligious equality contrary to the principles of the English constitution, and that men who denied the very foundation stone upon which the Christian church was erected were to be suffered to make the laws of a Christian people. It is therefore not surprising that the measure of Lord John Russell gave rise to considerable op¬ position. It was asked where would the legislature draw the line as to toleration ? The Church of England had been dethroned from her proud pre-eminence; Roman Catholics had entered the House of Com¬ mons ; Dissenters had followed them; Jews were now to be admitted ; what was to prevent the doors being opened—a question by the way now being freely discussed—to atheists and free thinkers ? Mr. Gladstone had written a book to prove the necessity of the union between church and state; the church was to be the Church of England, and the state was to be guided and pro¬ tected by her teaching. His book had a wide circulation amongst Conservatives, and its principles were cordially approved of. Upon the question of the admission of the Jews, Mr. Disraeli differed from the majority of the party that his genius and statesmanship had organized. He held that it was unjust to exclude from the honours of British legislation men who were bom British subjects, who were few in number, whose loyalty had never been impeached, and who believed in the faith upon which Christianity had been founded. He main¬ tained that mankind was under deep obli¬ gations to the Jews, and therefore ought, in common gratitude, to render them every privilege. “The Saxon, the Slav, and the Celt,” he writes, in the memorable chapter upon his race in his biography of Lord George Bentinck, “have adopted most of the laws and many of the customs of these Arabian tribes, all their literature and all their religion. They are therefore indebted to them for much that regulates, much that charms, and much that solaces existence. The toiling multitude rest every seventh day by virtue of a Jewish law; they are perpetually reading, ‘ for their example/ the records of Jewish history, and singing the odes and elegies of Jewish poets; and they daily acknowledge on their knees, with reverent gratitude, that the only me¬ dium of communication between the Creator and themselves is the Jewish race. Yet they treat that race as the vilest of genera¬ tions; and instead of logically looking upon them as the human family that has contri¬ buted most to human happiness, they extend to them every term of obloquy and every form of persecution.” He denied, too, the truth of the common accusation that the dispersion of the Hebrew race was a penalty incurred for the crucifixion of our Redeemer by the Romans at Jerusalem, and at the instigation of some Jews in the reign of Tiberius Caesar. Such a charge, he argued, was neither historically true nor dogmati¬ cally sound. It was not historically true, because the Jewish race at the time of the advent of our Lord was as much dispersed throughout the world as at the present time, and had been so for many centuries. AND HIS TIMES. 93 Consequently, the bulk of the Hebrew nation had no share in the act of the cruci¬ fixion. Nor was it historically true that the small section of the Jewish race which dwelt in Palestine rejected the Christ. The reverse was the truth. “ Had it,” writes Mr. Disraeli, “ not been for the Jews of Pales¬ tine the good tidings of our Lord would have been unknown for ever to the northern and western races. The first preachers of the gospel were Jews, and none else. No one has ever been permitted to write under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit except a Jew. For nearly a century no one believed in the good tidings except Jews. They nursed the sacred flame of which they were the consecrated and hereditary depositories. And when the time was ripe to diffuse the truth among the ethnicks, it was not a senator of Pome or a philosopher of Athens who was personally appointed by our Lord for that office, but a Jew of Tarsus, who founded the seven churches of Asia. And Inat greater church, great even amid its terrible corruptions, that has avenged the victory of Titus by subjugating the capital of the Caesars, and has changed every one of the Olympian temples into altars of the God of Sinai and of Calvary, was founded by another Jew, a Jew of Galilee.” Thus the dispersion of the Jews, pre¬ ceding as it did for ages the coming of our Saviour, could not, argues our author, be on account of behaviour which occurred after the advent. Nor were the Jews, he says, guilty of that subsequent conduct which has been imputed to them as a crime, since for Him and His blessed name they preached and wrote and shed their blood as “ witnesses.” And precisely as the charges against Israel were not his¬ torically correct, so were they neither dog¬ matically sound. There is no passage in Holy Writ, contends Mr. Disraeli, which in the slightest degree warrants the penal assumption. The imprecation of the mob at the crucifixion has been sometimes strangely quoted as a divine decree. But is it a principle of jurisprudence, human 01 inspired, to permit criminals to ordain their own punishment ? Why, too, should they transfer any portion of the infliction to their posterity ? What evidence have we that the wild suggestion was sanctioned by Omnipotence ? On the contrary, amid the expiating agony, a divine voice at the same time solicited a secured forgiveness. And if unforgiven, could the cry of a rabble, inquires Mr. Disraeli, at such a scene bind a nation ? Then he proceeds to put the question which Christian phi¬ losophy can only answer by referring it to the faith which will one day solve the inexplicable, and render sound the apparently illogical. “ If the Jew r s,” writes Mr. Disraeli, “had not prevailed upon the Bomans to crucify our Lord, what would have become of the Atonement ? But the human mind cannot contemplate the idea that the most important deed of time could depend upon human will. The immolators were pre-ordained like the victim, and the holy race supplied both. Could that be a crime which secured for all mankind eter¬ nal joy—which vanquished Satan, and opened the gates of Paradise ? Such a tenet would sully and impugn the doctrine that is the corner-stone of our faith and hope. Men must not presume to sit in judgment on such an act. They must bow their heads in awe and astonishment and trem¬ bling gratitude.” Having argued that our Christianity is only the completion of Judaism, that it is to Jews that we owe the preservation of the sacred writings, and, above all, that it is to a Jew we are indebted for the hope of eternal salvation, Mr. Disraeli further dis¬ cusses our indebtedness to the Hebrew race. Were it not, he says, for music, it might be thou "lit that the Beautiful was dead. O And who, pray, he asks, are the great composers whose works rank with the trans¬ cendent creations of human genius ? “ They are the descendants of those Arabian tribes who conquered Canaan, and who by favour of the Most High have done more with less means even than the Athenians,” In art, 94 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD in science, in philosophy, the Jews have equally excelled. They are the trustees of tradition and the conservators of the re¬ ligious element. They are a living and the most striking evidence of the falsity of that pernicious doctrine of modern times, the natural equality of man. All the tendencies of the Hebrew race, says Mr. Disraeli, are conservative. Their bias is to religion, pro¬ perty, and natural aristocracy. It should, therefore, be the interest of statesmen that this bias of a great race should be en¬ couraged, and their energies and creative powers enlisted in the cause of existing society. In conclusion, the writer warns us, that nations have prospered or fallen according to their treatment of the Hebrew race. “ It may be observed/’ he writes, “ that the decline and disasters of modern communities have generally been relative to their degree of sedition against the Semitic principle. Since the great revolt of the Celts against the first and second testament, at the close of the last century, France has been alternately in a state of collapse or convulsion. Throughout the awful trials of the last sixty years, England, notwithstanding her deficient and meagre theology, has always remembered Sion. The great transatlantic republic is intensely Semitic, and has prospered accordingly. This sacred principle alone has consolidated the mighty empire of all the Russias. How omnipotent it is cannot be more clearly shown than by the instance of Rome, where it appears in its most corrupt form. An old man on a Semitic throne baffles the modern Attilas and the recent invasion of the barbarians, under the form of red republicans, socialists, communists—all dif¬ ferent phases which describe the relapse of the once converted races into their primi¬ tive condition of savagery. Austria would long ago have dissolved but for the Semitic principle, and if the north of Germany has never succeeded in attaining that imperial position which seemed its natural destiny, it is that the north of Germany has never at any time been thoroughly converted. Some perhaps may point to Spain as a remarkable instance of decline in a country where the Semitic principle has exercised great influence. But the fall of Spain was occasioned by the expulsion of her Semitic population: a million families of Jews and Saracens, the most distinguished of her citizens for their industry and their intelli¬ gence, their learning and their wealth.” In whatever light we regard these opinions—whether we look upon them as proceeding from the distorted enthusiasm of one who was deeply attached to a race which has a splendid past, which has a persecuted present, and which is to have a glorious future ; whether we consider the comparison between Judaism and Chris¬ tianity as strained and false, and deny that Christianity is the completion of Judaism; whether we respect or sneer at “ the Semitic principle,” or whatever be the judgment we form upon the sub¬ ject—certain it is that to Mr. Disraeli these views constituted the creed of his life. Sprung from a people whom he con¬ sidered the “ aristocracy of nature,” he was essentially an aristocrat in the social and political opinions he held. He denied the theory as to the equality of man; he was a firm believer in “ race; ” he upheld the existence of a privileged class ; in all his instincts he was, what he claims as the characteristic of his nation, conservative— the conservatism of one proud of his lineage, the conservatism of a cultured, tolerant man of the world. The jealous and the spiteful who saw Mr. Disraeli living in the society of the great, and for years repre¬ senting the landed gentry of England, sneered at the son of the Hebrew man of letters for occupying a position he had no right to hold, and branded him with oppro brious epithets for his arrogance. Yet, in the light Mr. Disraeli regarded himself, there was no presumption. In this country, which holds in such high estimation ancient race, the lineage of the member for Buckinghamshire could trace back further in the past than could the birth of any by whom AND HIS TIMES. 95 he was surrounded; therefore, in his eyes the social atmosphere of the high-born was the element it was quite his due to breathe. He came of a superior race. The very manner, he declared, in which the Hebrew had baffled the persecutions of the past proved his superiority, since he is the only one of pure race in existence who has outlived persecution; and it was but right, according to the laws of ethnology, for him to take his place amongst those who lead. Throughout his whole political career, we never find Mr. Disraeli apologizing for the lofty position he held, or saying, as meaner natures would, servile things to tickle the vanity of those who, though they followed him, yet in all probability considered them¬ selves his social superiors. Addington, “ the doctor,” was very urbane and defer¬ ential to the great, as if aware of his social shortcomings; Canning had a strong leaven of toadyism in his nature; but the worst enemy of Mr. Disraeli never accused him of base flatteries, or the want of a noble self-respect. All the honours conferred on him appeared only as the ordinary result of cause and effect, as the tribute due to the really superior man. He led the Protectionists, he led the Tories, he led the nation, at one time he almost led Europe; he was a commoner, he became a peer; his coat of arms was a blank, yet on his breast glittered the star of a knight of the garter. Still through¬ out he was never fussily elated as to his position : his was an instance of the man who feels himself great because he knows he is worthy to be great. And apart from his genius, apart from his industry, he was conscious that he deserved this greatness, because he came from a line that had given to both sacred and secular his¬ tory its most distinguished men—because in his veins there was the same blood as flowed in Him “ who is the eternal glory of the Jewish race.” There was no future too splendid he considered for one of the chosen people. When Canning made a brilliant marriage, Pitt, highly pleased, said it would give his friend position. What the con¬ nection with the house of Portland was to George Canning, the connection with the house of David was to Benjamin Dis¬ raeli—it gave him, in his own estimation, I “ position.” When, therefore, in the December of 1847, Lord John Eussell brought before the House of Commons his resolution to remove the disabilities of the Jews, Mr. Disraeli came boldly forward to support the measure. He expressed on this occasion very much the same opinions as he had maintained in his memoir of Lord George Bentinck, and in his novel of “ Tancred.” He declared that it was the duty of Christians to accord full civil rights to the Jews, since there was such an affinity between Judaism and Christianity. “For where,” he asked, “is your Christianity if you do not believe in their Judaism?” There was no hostility, he said, on the part of the Jew to the Christian church, for he alone of all religi- ous people did not proselytize. Why, then, should the Christian church be hostile to the Jew ? By her teaching she had made the history of the Jews the most celebrated history in the world. On every sacred day she read to the people the exploits of Jewish heroes, the proofs of Jewish devotion, and she obeved as the rule of her life the com- mandments given to the Jews. When she wished to express feelings of praise and thanksgiving, or to find expressions of solace in grief, she met with both in the works of the Jewish poets. “If you had not forgotten,” he said, “ what you owe to this people—if you were grateful for that literature which for thousands of years has brought so much instruction and so much consolation to the sons of men—you as Christians would be only too ready to seize the first opportunity of meeting the claims of those who profess this religion.” It w T as entirely, he avowed, on religious grounds and on religious prin¬ ciples that he ventured to recommend this subject to the notice of the House. It was a question on which men, whatever might be the consequences, must speak what they 96 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD felt. It was not, he concluded, because he was of Hebrew origin, but because he was a Christian, that he would not take upon himself the responsibility “ of excluding from the legislature those who were of the religion in the bosom of which his Lord and Saviour was born. ,, Lord George Bentinck also spoke in favour of the resolution; but in spite of the advocacy of the two leaders of the Protectionists, the measure was not, as we know, then satisfactorily settled. Lord John Russell carried the second reading by a large majority; but when the Lords came to consider the clauses, the bill was thrown out. Subsequently Lord John made an attempt to bring Baron Rothschild into parliament by a mere vote of the House of Commons; but Mr. Disraeli, though his sympathies were strongly in favour of the movement, and though he was a friend of the baron, declined to support so uncon¬ stitutional a proceeding. One important result, favourable to the rising fortunes of Mr. Disraeli, however, followed the debate on this subject. The country was not then ripe for the question of Jewish emancipation; and the Pro¬ tectionists being principally composed of English country gentlemen, with the usual prejudices of their order against foreign intrusion, did not see why the constitution should be upset in order that a wealthy Plebrew merchant might have the honour of representing London. It was bad enough to admit a Roman Catholic, who divided his allegiance between the queen and the pope, and a Dissenter who made war upon the church to vent his radi¬ cal jealousy; but to have the House swarming with Jew usurers and money¬ lenders, though within their veins they might have the blood of all the prophets and apostles to boot, was an extension of the principles of toleration not to be sanctioned for one moment. It was known that Lord George Bentinck, who was ever in favour of religious freedom, was about to vote for the resolution of Lord John Russell; and en¬ deavours were made to turn him from his purpose, but in vain. Consequently mur¬ murs and divisions arose amongst the Protectionists at the course their leader had pursued; and Lord George being a man of imperious nature, and then somewhat irritable from ill health, resigned the chief¬ tainship of the Protectionists, leaving the conduct of affairs entirelv in the hands of */ his able lieutenant. He was implored to reconsider his determination, “as one very detrimental to the cause to which he was devoted, and which would probably tend to the triumph of those whose policy he had attempted to defeat, and whose personal conduct he had at least succeeded in pun¬ ishing.” He replied that he would feel greatly relieved by a restoration to privacy and freedom, as he seriously doubted whether he was able to work on much longer. This answer was sufficient to prevent his fol¬ lowers from repeating their request. On being presented with an address signed by the Protectionists, he thus expressed himself:— “ The considerations which obliged me to surrender a post of honour which every independent and high-minded English gen¬ tleman has at all times prized above the highest rewards in the gift of the crown, ‘ the leadership of the country gentlemen of England,’ will never influence me to swerve from any endeavours of which my poor abilities and bodily energies are capable in the promotion of the prosperity of all classes in the British empire at home and in the colonies, any more than they can ever make me forget the attachment, the friendship, and the enthusiastic support, of those who stood by me to the end of the death strug¬ gle for British interests and for English good faith and political honour, and to whose continued friendship and constancy I know I am indebted for this graceful and grateful compliment.” He was not, however, permitted long to devote his services to the state. A few months after his resignation he was found dead on the road, near Thoresby, the AND HIS TIMES. 97 seat of Lord Manvers, to which place he had walked over from Welbeck. He died of sheer exhaustion, a martyr to his love of doing thoroughly whatever he put his hand to. It is said that he often worked eighteen out of the four-and-twenty hours, mastering the details of blue-books, and taking no sustenance beyond a little tea and dry toast. “ The labours of Lord George Bentinck,” writes Mr. Disraeli, “had been supernatural, and one ought, perhaps, to have felt that it was impossible they could be continued on such a scale of exhaustion; but no friend could' control his eager life in this respect; he obeyed the law of his vehement and fiery nature, being one of those men who, in whatever they undertake, know no me¬ dium, but will ‘ succeed or die.’ ” It had been the wish of Mr. Disraeli, since he, too, had been guilty of the crime of vot¬ ing for the removal of Jewish disabilities, to have followed the example of Lord George Bentinck, and to have abdicated the post he held with relation to the Protectionists. However, at the earnest request of Lord George, who said that such a proceeding would be indicative of schism, which it was most necessary to discourage, he abandoned the idea, and faced the treasury bench as the actual, though at that time not the recognized leader of the secessionists. As a critical member of the Opposition, and now the chief, however unwilling might be his followers, of a great party, he was soon to prove to the mixed band of Whigs and Peelites that he fully understood the re¬ sponsibilities of his office, and that he was no blind or tame opponent of injudicious measures.* Parliament had reassembled, * I am quite aware that in the interval between the resignation of Lord George Bentinck and the year 1849, Mr. Disraeli was not the recognized leader in the House of Commons. There were several Richards in the field. Mr. Disraeli’s own words, in the memoir of Lord George Bentinck, are, “ The session, however, was to commence without a leader, without any recognized organ of communication between parties, or any responsible representative of opinion in de¬ bate. All again was chaos. There is, however, something so vital in the conservative party that it seems always to rally under every disadvantage.” Still the various rivals for the post of leader of the Protectionists were, in comparison with Mr. Disraeli, only dummies. The govern¬ ment treated Mr. Disraeli as if he were the virtual leader, and between Lord Derby and the member for VOL. I. February 23, 1848, and shortly after the meeting of the Houses, Lord John Russell rose up to propose an increase in that convenient but hated impost the income- tax, offering as his excuse for the aug¬ mentation, that owing to the ambitious designs of the princes of the house of Orleans, it had become necessary to enlarge our armaments. The leader of the Protec¬ tionists keenly criticised the proposal. He reminded the House that when, in 1842, the country had submitted to the imposi¬ tion of the income tax, the Whigs had warmly denounced it as unprecedented, nay, even as unconstitutional; that when Sir Robert Peel had introduced the measure, he represented himself as being in com¬ munication with foreign powers for the establishment between them and Great Britain of treaties of reciprocity; and that the income tax was levied with the express purpose of carrying on the affairs of the country until those treaties should have been ratified. “ Sir,” he cried, “ in all this the right honourable gentleman acted as great ministers had acted before him. He acted exactly as Mr. Pitt did in 1787; he followed entirely the example of Mr. Pitt, who pursued the principle of other great men who had preceded him—Lord Shel- Buckinghamshire there existed the most complete con¬ fidence. For a time there was a kind of triumvirate leadership—Lord Granby, Mr. Herries, and Mr. Disraeli— of the Protectionists in the lower house, but it was through¬ out apparent that Mr. Disraeli was the actual leader. A writer in Blackwood's Magazine thus describes the situation of affairs:—“ Mr. Disraeli’s position towards the party itself, unanimous as it professed to be in its fealty to Lord Derby, was such as only a man of imperturbable temper and great forethought could have endured. He was their spokesman and chief adviser on almost all occasions; he made no open pretence to guide their policy. He never sought, far less intrigued for, the leadership of the party. The party learned ere long that it could not do without him, and events took their natural course. The leadership, after a few abortive gyrations, fell, so to speak, of its own accord, into his hands, and in spite of more than one ill-arranged and worse- executed attempt to transfer it to another, it has continued with him up to the present hour.” From Hansard it does not appear that Mr. Disraeli was regarded by the Whigs as the real leader of the Protectionists until the July of 1849. In the debates that then ensued he is called for the first time the leader. Mr. Roebuck congratulates him “ upon this his first appearance as the acknowledged chief of the party.” The chancellor of the exchequer speaks of the hon. gentleman as “ the avowed leader of a powerful party;” whilst Lord John Russell refers to the Protectionists as “ the supporters ” of Mr. Disraeli 13 98 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD burne and Lord Bolingbroke. And thus the right honourable gentleman, when he proposed his commercial change in 1842, announced at the same time that he was bringing all the influence of his justly powerful name, and of his singularly powerful government, to bear on foreign courts, in order to obtain a reciprocal com¬ mercial intercourse between this and other countries. Sir, I gave to the right honour¬ able gentleman, at that time, a humble but a sincere and hearty support. I never shall regret it. But it is very necessary that we should recollect, that a great deal had happened in the interval between 1842 and 1845. During that period a great commercial confederation had arisen, very completely organized, and conducted by very able men. They made great way in the country, and they promulgated opinions on commerce very different from those pro¬ pounded by the late minister in 1842. They were not the opinions of Mr. Pitt, of Lord Shelburne, or of Lord Bolingbroke; they were not the opinions of free-trade, which I am prepared to support. Yes; I am a free-trader, but not a freebooter: honourable gentlemen opposite are free¬ booters.” His opposition was so far effectual that Lord John wisely contented himself with renewing the tax on the same scale at which he had received it from Sir Robert Peel. The next occasion during this session when the member for Bucks took part in an important debate, was on the motion of Mr. Hume, June 20, 1848. The motion ran thus :—“ That this House, as at present constituted, does not fairly represent the population, the property, or the industry of the country, whence has arisen a great and increasing discontent in the minds of a large portion of the people ; and it is there¬ fore expedient, with a view to amend the national representation, that the elective franchise shall be so extended as to include all householders ; that votes shall be taken by ballot; that the duration of parliament shall not exceed three years; and that the apportionment of members to population shall be made equal.” Mr. Henry Drum¬ mond and Lord John Russell had spoken against the motion—Mr. Pox, the mem¬ ber for Oldham, in its favour—when Mr. Disraeli rose. His speech is the first of a series on the question of national repre¬ sentation, and foreshadows the principles he advocated when he introduced his celebrated measure in 1867. Throughout on the question of parliamentary reform, Mr. Disraeli was consistent — the con¬ sistency of a far-seeing man who has deeply studied the subject, and knows the line that should be taken. He never regarded the Reform Bill of 1832 as a final measure ; and in the various speeches we shall hear him make on the subject between the years 1848 and 1867, we find him ever asserting that the clauses in the bill of 1832 are incomplete, and that it is inevitable that they must be brought again before the House for further and more extended revision. Not once does he ever let fall an expression which can be construed into hostility to electoral change. Give heed to him, for instance, on this occasion, and mark how unreservedly he expresses himself in the matter. “ It is not for us, sir,” he said, rising to oppose the motion of Mr. Hume, and to re¬ fute its false arguments, “either to defend or attack the Reform Act. We obey it. When it was first brought forward, it encountered the criticism of those who were opposed to His Majesty’s ministers in 1832. Perhaps it benefited in some degree by that opposition. But when it had passed—when it became the law of the country—it received from us that allegiance which the law in this country always commands; and no doubt the remedial and practical sense of this country has prevented some of those evils which were then anticipated. . . . I do not say that it is not necessary to have reform. I will enter fairly into that question, but do not let us enter upon this great question under false pretences. . . . I am not now denying that a change may he necessary: AND HIS TIMES. 99 that point I am perfectly prepared to enter into. ... I ventured to say before, that gentlemen around me are not respon¬ sible for the Deform Bill. But the Beform Bill was a reconstruction of the order of the Commons—of our estate of the realm. It was a settlement most unsatisfactory to us—we offered our objections to it, and got pelted for our pains. But no one can pretend that settlement was not carried with the full support and sanction of the people of England ; and if the question of its passing had been submitted to universal suffrage, there is not the slightest doubt that at the moment all would have regis¬ tered their votes for the bill. No other plan was desired or tolerated. It was to be something neither more nor less. What you wanted was not only the bill, but the whole bill, and nothing but the bill—and you got it. You were told at the time that the first critics of the Beform Bill would be the reformers themselves ; and no prophecy ever was more strikingly fulfilled. But when there has been a settlement of the great question—concluded, too, under such circumstances—the country agitated for tw T o years—yourselves choosing the hour of action—when you had every possible advantage — when opposition, legitimate, constitutional, and I believe national oppo¬ sition, was entirely overcome by the energy and artifices of your triumphant faction— when you yourselves laid it down as a great apophthegm that became a household word, that you would have it and nothing else— it is not unreasonable that we, who agreed to it with reluctance, or that the Whig party, the government of the day, who brought it forward after mature consid¬ eration, should say before we disturb the settlement then made—‘ Let us be sure that we are arriving at a new reconstruction that offers a fair prospect of giving satisfac¬ tion to the people and security to the state.’ “ I speak, not from egotism, for myself on this subject; for one naturally wishes, on such subjects, not to draw any one into responsibility for one’s expression. /, for one , am no advocate for finality. I conceive there may be circumstances—there may be a period when we shall do that which we have done for five hundred years in this country — reconstruct the estate of the Commons. But I contend that the last reconstruction—and it is rather a recent one, however unsatis¬ factory to the hon. gentleman and his friends —is likely to be more satisfactory to the nation than the plan brought forward by the hon. gentleman: and I am not prepared to support any new plan, any new change, on a subject so important, unless I believe it to be one that will conduce very greatly to the public interest. Certainly I cannot, in the character of the present plan, dis¬ cover anything that has a tendency to satisfy the public heart; because you must divest this question of all that rhetorical varnish and that powerful sentiment with which it has been suffused by the hon. member for Oldham. This is not at all a project to enfranchise the serfs of England —this is not at all a project that tells the labouring classes they shall take their place in the political constitution of the country. It is characterized by features totally op¬ posed to the principles laid down by the hon. member for Oldham. If there be any mistake more striking than another in the settlement of 1832— and , in this respect , I differ from the hon. member for Surrey (Mr. Locke King)— it is , in my opinion , that the bill of 1832 took the qualification of property in too hard and rigid a sense , as the only qualification which should exist in "this country for the exercise of political rights. How does the hon. member for Montrose (Mr. Hume), the great champion of the new movement, meet this difficulty ? He has brought forward a project of which property, and property alone, is the basis: he has not come forward with any scheme for an educational suffrage or an industrial suffrage—he has not attempted in any way to increase or vary the elements of suffrage. It is impossible that any plan can be more hard, more commonplace, more literal, more unsatisfactory, or more offensive, as the 100 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD speech of the hon. member for Oldham shows it must be, to the great body of the working classes, than one which recognizes property, and property alone, as its basis. “Now, sir, for one, I think property is sufficiently represented in this House. I am prepared to support the system of 1832 until I see that the circumstances and neces¬ sities of the country require a change; but I am convinced that when that change comes, it will be one thai will have mone regard for other sentiments, qualities, and conditions, than the mere possession of property as a qualification for the exercise of the political franchise. And, therefore, in opposing the measure of the hon. member for Montrose, I protest against being placed in the category of finality, or as one who believes that no change is ever to take place in that wherein there has been, throughout the history of this ancient country, frequent and continu¬ ous change—the construction of this estate of the realm. I oppose this new scheme, because it does not appear to be adapted in any way to satisfy the wants of the age, or to be conceived in the spirit of the times.” The speaker then laid bare the sophistries which ran through the arguments of Mr. Fox, and proved how inadequate were the means proposed by Mr. Hume to amend the national representation. He stated that the principal plea for parliamentary recon¬ struction and political revolution had always been the increase in the expenditure and in the taxation of the country; but now he showed that a little prior to the passing of the Reform Bill, in the year 1828, the revenue raised in the country from ordinary sources was £49,500,000, whilst the revenue raised in 1848 was £47,500,000. Again it was calculated that in 1828 the people of England were taxed something like two guineas a head, whilst in 1848 they were taxed a little over 30s. How, then, could the Radical party maintain their argument that taxation in this country had oppres¬ sively increased, and therefore that such a state of things necessitated a change in our parliamentary constitution ? He denied the premise of Mr. Hume that every Eng¬ lishman had a right to vote. If every Englishman had a right to vote, why was it necessary that he should have a qualifica¬ tion for that vote—why that qualification should be the circumstance of living in a house ? The suffrage was neither a trust nor a right, but, as he had always con¬ tended, a privilege. And that brought him to his favourite subject, the real character of the House of Commons, and the political order of which its members were the representatives. “We represent the Com¬ mons,” he said; “the Commons are an estate of the realm. The materials of that estate constitute, of course, a ques¬ tion of policy—of expediency—and it is perfectly open to anybody, at any time, to discuss the question of what that order should consist. It is an order, whether you make it consist of thousands, of hundreds of thousands, or even of two or three millions —it becomes an order and a privileged order; and for the hon. gentleman to pre¬ tend that he is settling a great question for ever, by proposing that every man who lives in a house should have a vote is an absurdity, because the very supporter of the motion, on his own side, who has made an eloquent speech in favour of it, has argued throughout that there should be no limita¬ tion whatever assigned to the exercise of the suffrage.” With regard to the ballot, he was neither opposed to it nor in favour of it. He simply now saw no necessity for it. It was all folly and nonsense to say that the present age and the present parliament were distinguished by their corrupt prac¬ tices. The very reverse was the case. All parliaments for the last fifty years had been less and less corrupt. The fact was that parliament was becoming purer and more pure every day—a state of things inevitable in a land of progress like England, where, with a free press and healthy action of public opinion, the undue influence of gold and property must every year, and in each successive parliament, be diminished. The AND HIS TIMES. 101 question of triennial parliaments, lie con¬ tinued, was one upon which he was the less inclined to say anything, since it formed part of those old Tory principles which he had always taken every opportunity of pro¬ mulgating. Triennial parliaments were a portion of that old Tory creed around which, he was happy to observe more than one indication, the people of this country were well inclined to rally. The only objection to the change was that it was a change, and in the present position of affairs all unnecessary changes of this kind were to he deprecated. In conclusion, he op¬ posed all the articles in the motion. They were the result of a mischievous as;ita- tion, and of mischievous agitators. They were advocated for the unblushing pur¬ pose of securing a middle-class govern¬ ment, instead of an English and a national government. If political changes were necessary, let them be introduced by the proper leaders of the people—the gentle¬ men of England. The Manchester school were always attacking traditionary influ¬ ences, and intimating that it was their wish to subdivide large properties. Foreseeing, as he did, what the results would be, and convinced that, without traditional influ¬ ences and large properties, they would find it impossible to govern England, he pre¬ ferred the liberty they now enjoyed to the liberalism promised by Mr. Hume, and found in the rights of Englishmen some¬ thing better than the rights of men. Foreign affairs were now to attract his attention. The year 1848 was a terrible one to all foreign secretaries. Scarcely a state in Europe escaped the dire contagion of revolution. In France Louis Philippe had been forced to fly the country, and a republic had taken the place of a monarchy; Austria was in revolt, and Prince Metter- nich had been compelled to take shelter in voluntary exile; Berlin was in the hands of the revolutionists; the Italians were up in arms against the hated Austrians; Schles¬ wig and Holstein were at daggers drawn; riots had broken out in Naples owing to the despotic rule of the weak yet cruel Bomba; Pome was in similar difficulties, and his Holiness had to quit the city in disguise; the Magyars were doing their best to rend the Austrian empire in twain; in the Iber¬ ian peninsula Portugal was a prey to internal dissension, whilst Narvaez had dethroned constitutional government in Spain, and in its stead had established a “ monstrous despotism;” even quiet humdrum Bavaria did not escape, and the Lola Montes affair caused its amorous king to bow to the verdict of an indignant people, and abdicate his throne. Lord Palmerston was a vigilant and patriotic foreign minister; but his indis¬ creet admiration of English institutions caused us then no little trouble and humiliation. “ He looks upon the English constitution,” said Mr. Disraeli, “as a model farm, and forces it upon every country.” When the movement of Narvaez became known to the government, Lord Palmer¬ ston thought it his duty, since England had endeavoured to maintain a consti¬ tutional monarchy within the Spanish do¬ minions, to act the part of counsellor and friend to the administration at Madrid. He accordingly instructed Sir Henry Bulwer, our minister, to recommend to the Spanish government a line of conduct more in ac¬ cordance with constitutional usages. “ The recent fall of the king of the French,” wrote Lord Palmerston, “ and of his whole family, and the expulsion of his ministers, ought to teach the Spanish court and government how great is the danger of an attempt to govern a country in a manner at variance with the feelings and opinions of the nation; and the catastrophe which has happened in France must serve to show that even a large and well-disciplined army becomes an ineffectual defence of the crown, when the course pursued by the crown is at variance with the general sentiments of the country.” Sir Henry was therefore instructed to suggest to the Spanish govern¬ ment that its basis should be enlarged, by calling to its councils “some of those men 102 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD who possess the confidence of the liberal party; ” and then came the threat that unless Spain followed our counsels, our countenance would be withdrawn from her. Narvaez was not the meekest and most amiable of men, and against this inter¬ ference with the internal affairs of his country he vigorously protested. He had abolished constitutionalism, and it was a matter of utter indifference to him whether he possessed “ the confidence of the Liberal party” or the contrary. Accordingly the English ambassador was insulted. He was accused of having furthered the insurrection, of having employed English ships to run round the Spanish coast in order to excite revolt, and of having corrupted the Spanish troops by presents of English gold. He was dismissed the capital under the frivolous pretext that his life was in danger. Such behaviour was of course a direct insult to England; and in justice to Lord Palmer¬ ston, let us remember that he at once pro¬ posed prompt and decided measures to the cabinet: the fleet, he said, should be sent immediately to Cadiz to demand satisfaction. “We had but to send a fleet to Cadiz,” writes Sir Henry Bulwer, “and hold up our little finger, and Narvaez and his second would have fallen down like a pack of cards. The queen-mother, who trembled for a large portion of her property engaged in speculations in Cuba, would have been the first to desert him; the army, not a regiment of which he could rely upon, would have shouted vivas to his successor. There is no satisfaction we could have demanded that would not have been gratefully given and prodigally offered.” Unfortunately the counsels of our foreign secretary did not prevail. His colleagues declined to support him, and refused to have recourse to extreme measures. Some were delighted at the policy of Lord Pal¬ merston receiving a snub; others belonged to that school which looks upon national honour as a shadow always to be sacrificed to the substance of immediate interest; whilst a few, frightened at the wild doctrines then beginning to threaten society in France, thought that a military despotism was a form of government to be encouraged, and that Narvaez was the right man in the right place. The insult was therefore thought to be sufficiently avenged by the dismissal of the Spanish minister at the court of St. James’s, and the rupture of diplomatic relations between the two countries. “Never,” writes Sir Henry Bul¬ wer, “was extreme caution the parent of more desperate consequences. But for these consequences Lord Palmerston was not responsible. Had his advice been followed, it is more than probable that Queen Isa¬ bella would still have been on the throne in Madrid; that a constitutional government would have been long since established firmly in France; and that the campaign of the Crimea would have been avoided.” It was not to be expected that such a humiliation would be ignored by the House of Commons. A resolution was accordingly moved by Mr. Bankes (June 5,1848), “ That this House learns with deep regret, from a correspondence between the British govern¬ ment and the government of Spain, that a proposed interference with the internal concerns of the Spanish government, as conducted under the authority and with the entire approval of Her Majesty’s ministers, has placed the British government and our representative at the court of Madrid in a position humiliating in its character, and calculated to affect the friendly relations heretofore existing between the courts of Great Britain and Spain.” A warm debate ensued, in which Mr. Disraeli took a pro¬ minent part. It has been the wise rule of our foreign office never to meddle in continental complications by any active measures, unless English interests are likely to be endangered by the absence of such interference. The vigilance and patriotism of Lord Palmerston were above suspicion; but during the earlier part of his career, when he held the seals as foreign secretary, he was too apt to use the influence of his office in settling questions which might be AND HIS TIMES. 103 of vital importance to other countries, but which had no direct bearing upon the power or position of England. Mr. Disraeli took a different view of our foreign policy. He held, and as Lord Beaconsfield he practised what he taught, that England was a country not only to be respected, but to be feared; that when she had pledged her word, either by treaty or convention, to carry out what she had promised, no selfish interests should stay her proceedings, and that with the advantages of her position, the strength of her fleet, and the bravery of her men, she was a power, if rightly directed, that none dare despise. He also maintained that though by our geographical position we were happily severed from many of the dangers that menace conti¬ nental nations, yet our welfare as a great colonial power was so intimately connected with European politics, that in seasons of crisis we could only retire from interference at the expense not only of our prestige but of our safety. Still such views were utterly opposed to bluster, and a feverish national egotism which obtruded itself at every occasion upon our neighbour’s affairs, giving him gratuitous advice, seeking to guide and control his actions, and, in short, behaving more like the meddlesome spy than the trusty ally. Mr. Disraeli, therefore, con¬ demned the policy of Lord Palmerston, since it not only needlessly interfered with the internal affairs of other countries, but en¬ deavoured to graft English Liberalism upon foreign constitutions. He objected to the course our foreign secretary had pursued in taking the part of the Magyars against Austria, of the Italians against Austria, and of the Sicilians against the king of Naples. These were matters very impor¬ tant to Austria, to Hungary, to Lombardy, to Naples, but they did not concern us; the intrigues of these struggling national¬ ities failed in any way to touch our interests, and it was an excellent rule both in public and private life to mind one’s own business. Nay, he contended if any result arose from this interference it would be rather to our detriment, for it was to our advan¬ tage that the north of Italy should belong to Austria, and that Sicily should belong to Naples. Then he alluded to the Madrid affair. He spoke highly of the character of Sir Henry Bulwer; he believed that no man had of late years been employed to serve Her Majesty abroad who had done better service to the crown; and he regretted that after such an insult passed upon so eminent a public servant, the government at home should have offered him no substantial reward for his services. With regard to the unhappy state paper, the cause of all this imbroglio, that Lord Palmerston had ad¬ dressed to the Spanish government, Mr. Disraeli, in his most sarcastic manner, con¬ gratulated his lordship upon the tact with which he reminded Spain of her obligations to England, upon the pure Castilian style of his literary composition, upon his sesqui¬ pedalian sentences and his grandiose phrase¬ ology. He also complimented the Whigs upon their proselytizing spirit in attempting to convert all nations to English Liberalism. They could not find a country governed by an absolute power without telling her that the only way to be happy and prosperous was to have “a House of Lords and a House of Commons, and an English treaty of com¬ merce.” By lending the aid of a great country like England to some miserable faction, they had created parties in domestic policy in every country—from Athens to Madrid—they had deteriorated the pros¬ perity and condition of the people, and had laid the seeds of infinite confusion. He then concluded by impressing upon the House that it was their duty to accept the expulsion of Sir Henry Bulwer as a condemnation of the principles of Liberalism in foreign politics, and that they should not allow so distinguished a man to become the scape¬ goat of a mischievous policy. This speech was, however, a mere affair of outposts. Mr. Disraeli reserved himself to the end of the session to give battle in downright earnest. On the motion for going into Committee of Supply (August 30, 104 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD 1848), lie reviewed the policy of the government in a speech which w r as the wittiest and most brilliant that he had delivered since his famous attacks upon Sir Robert Peel. Not a single blunder escaped his critical inspection. He began by denying that there were any grounds for the complaint raised by the cabinet, that the work of the government had been hindered by the flow of unnecessary talk in the House of Commons. It had been alleged that the reason for postponing the annual fish dinner at Greenwich for a week had been occasioned by the “vexatious discussions in the House of Commons”— by that “ mania for talk,” which had now reached such a pitch “ that something must really be done to arrest the evil.” He denied these assertions; the only reason why, after sitting ten months, the House had so little to show for its labours, was due, not to the chatter of members—not to the abuse of parliamentary forms—but to the neglect and incapacity of those who sat on the treasury bench. Let them, he said, recall the circumstances under which the present parliament met. At that time thrones had fallen, dynasties had been uprooted, great ministers, whose reputa¬ tion had become almost part of history, had toppled down, and they at home were suffering from a commercial crisis of almost unprecedented severity. There were up- rootings of commercial dynasties in Eng¬ land not less striking than the fall of those political houses of which they had heard so much. When parliament met there was commercial distress of unprecedented severity; private credit was paralyzed; trade was more than dull, it was almost dead; and there scarcely was a private individual in the kingdom who was not smarting under the circumstances of that commercial distress. The Houses had been assembled specially to take into consider¬ ation the commercial difficulties of the nation. Yet what had been done in the matter ? Absolutely nothing. Certainly they could not be accused of being influ¬ enced by “this mania of talk,” for there had been no discussion whatever upon the subject of trade depression. It was true that there had been a desultory debate on the motion of the Address with respect to commercial distress. It was also true that the cabinet had counselled the Bank of England to infringe the law, and that the directors of that body had not availed themselves of this illegal permission. The conduct of the cabinet in this matter was so weak and whimsical that it was difficult to account for it, except by sup¬ posing that they were in a state of very great perplexity. Why they should have been so long before they advised the bank to infringe the law—why, when they had done so, they should have been delighted that the bank did not avail itself of the privilege — and why, having done all this, which amounted to nothing, they should have written the following paragraph in the queen’s speech, most certainly puzzled him:—“ The embar¬ rassments of trade were at one period aggra¬ vated by so general a feeling of distrust and alarm, that Her Majesty, for the purpose of restoring confidence, authorized her minis¬ ters to recommend to the directors of the Bank of England a course of proceeding suited to such an emergency. This course might have led to an infringement of the law.” Why was that paragraph given to the world ? If the recommendation of the ministers had been acted upon, he could have understood its insertion in the speech; but the recommendation had not been acted upon, and therefore matters were precisely as they were before: there had been much fuss, and nothing had come of it. “ I scarcely know,” said Mr. Disraeli, amid the laughter of the House, “ to what to compare the conduct of Her Majesty’s ministers, except something that occurs in a delightful city in the south, with which some of the gentlemen of this House are familiar—and which is now, I believe, blockaded or bullied by the AND HIS TIMES. 105 English fleet. There an annual cere¬ mony takes place, when the whole popu¬ lation are found in a state of the greatest alarm and sorrow. A procession moves through the streets, in which the blood of a saint is carried in a consecrated vase. The people throng round the vase, and there is great pressure—as there was in London at the time to which T am alluding. This pressure in time becomes a panic—just as it did in London. It is curious that in both cases the cause is the same: it is a cause of congealed circulation. Just at the moment when unutterable gloom overspreads the population—when nothing but despair and consternation pre¬ vail—the chancellor of the exchequer—I beg pardon—the archbishop of Tarento an¬ nounces the liquefaction of St. Januarius’s blood—as the chancellor of the exchequer announced the issue of a government letter: in both instances a wholesome state of currency returned : the people resume their gaiety and cheerfulness, the panic and the pressure disappear, everybody returns to music and macaroni, as in London every¬ body returned to business; and in both cases the remedy is equally efficient and equally a hoax.” Nor had the conduct of the govern¬ ment, continued Mr. Disraeli, been a whit more satisfactory in their treatment of financial questions. Yet it had certainly not been for the lack of introducing financial measures. They had some time ago the government of “all the talents,” but this was the government of “ all the budgets.” Between February and August, no less than four budgets had been submitted to the consideration of the House ! The first bud¬ get was brought forward in the grandest manner; it was intrusted, not to the chan¬ cellor of the exchequer, but to the prime minister himself (for such a measure de¬ manded the expansive views and the high spirit of a statesman), and it proposed to double the income tax. Now, that was a scheme that was not taken up in an hour, or drawn with a pen upon the back of a VOL. i. letter; that was clearly a financial measure which must have been most completely matured. We know how it was received. A menagerie before feeding time could alone give an idea of the unearthly yell with which the middle classes met this demand. Protests were sent up, indigna¬ tion meetings were held, and there was a general impression that the income tax was about to be doubled because we were going to war ! However, it was thought prudent not to double the income tax; and a second budget was introduced, and again a third, and, indeed, a fourth, all equally inefficient, and all needlessly taking up the time of the House, to the exclusion of useful legislation —of the useful legislation, which, it was stated, had not been practicable owing to the “ mania for talk ” of certain members. Yet fond hopes had been entertained of that last budget. “ Alas for this fourth budget!” sighed Mr. Disraeli. “ It came late, and at a moment when we wanted glad tidings; but, un¬ fortunately, it was not characterized by the sunny aspect which was desirable. I shall never forget the scene. It was a dreary moment. There was a thin House—the thinnest, I suppose, that ever attended a ceremony so interesting to every country, and especially to a commercial and financial country like England. I never saw a budget brought forward before an audience so gloomy and so small. No ; I shall never forget the scene. It irresistibly reminded me of a celebrated character who, like the chancellor of the exchequer, had four trials in his time, and whose last was the most unsuccessful— I mean the great hero of Cervantes when he returned from his fourth and final expe¬ dition. The great spirit of Quixote had subsided; all that sally of financial chivalry which cut us down at the beginning of the session, and which trampled and cantered over us in the middle, was gone. Hon. gentlemen will remember the chapter to which I refer, which describes the period when the knight’s illusions on the subject of chivalry were fast dispelling, and, losing 14 106 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD his faith in chivalry or finance, he returned home crestfallen and weary. The villagers, like the Opposition, were drawn out to receive him; and Cervantes tells us that, though they were aware of his weakness, they treated him with respect. His imme¬ diate friends—the barber, the curate, the bachelor Sampson Carasco, whose places might be filled in this house by the first lord of the treasury, the secretary of state for foreign affairs, and perhaps the president of the board of trade—were assembled, and with demure reverence and feigned sym¬ pathy they greeted him, broken in spirit and about for ever to renounce those de¬ lightful illusions under which he had sallied forth so triumphantly; but just at that moment when everything, though melan¬ choly, was becoming—though sad, was in the best taste—Sancho’s wife rushes for¬ ward and exclaims, ‘ Never mind your kicks and cuffs so you’ve brought home some money.’ But this is just the thing that the chancellor of the exchequer has not brought. Such was the end of the fourth and final expedition, and such is the result of the fourth and final budget. The chancellor of the exchequer, during the whole session, has been bringing home barbers’ basins instead of knightly helms; and at the last moment, true to his nature, to his vocation, and to his career, he finds instead of a sur¬ plus a deficiency, and instead of reducing taxation he commemorates his second year of finance by a second loan.” But if the government had been active with their budgets, they had been very remiss with other measures. He had in his hand, continued Mr. Disraeli, a list of forty-seven bills, two-thirds of them government measures, all of them im¬ portant, and many of them referring to subjects of great interest, yet owing to the incapacity of the cabinet to deal with public business, and to turn to prac¬ tical account the hours at their disposal, they had been entirely withdrawn, or else postponed to a time which might never arrive. He attributed the unsatisfactory condition of public business to two causes. The first was that the cabinet when pre¬ paring their plans had no conviction, owing to their weak parliamentary position, that their measures would be carried. The second was that ministers did not mature or finish their measures, but threw them upon the House, for it to complete and prepare the means of governing the country. Hence the House of Commons, instead of being a purely legislative body, was every day becoming a more administrative as¬ sembly. It was in fact a great committee sitting on public affairs, in which every man spoke with the same right, and almost with the same weight. No more the disciplined array of traditionary influences and hereditary opinions—the realized ex¬ perience of an ancient society and of a race that for generations had lived and flourished in the high practice of a noble system of self-government. Those were all past. Instead, the future was to provide them with a compensatory alternative in the conceits of the illiterate, the crotchets of the whimsical, the violent courses of a vulgar ambition that acknowledged no gratitude to antiquity, to posterity no duty until at last that free and famous parlia¬ ment of England was to subside to the low water-mark of those national assemblies and provisional conventions which were at the same time the terror and the derision of the world. “ Sir,” he concluded, “ I trace all this evil to the disorganization of party. I know that there are gentlemen in this House who affect to depreciate party gov¬ ernment. I am not now going to enter into a discussion respecting party govern¬ ment ; but this I will tell you—as I have told you before, in a manner which has not yet been met by any of the gentlemen who oppose my views on this subject—that you cannot choose between party government and parliamentary government. I say, you can have no parliamentary government if you have no party government; and therefore when gentlemen denounce party AND HIS TIMES. 107 government they strike at that scheme of government which, in my opinion, has made this country great, and which I hope will keep it great. I can foresee, though I dare not contemplate, the consequences of the system that now prevails. ... I really believe that if you persist in this system it will effect results which no revolution has yet succeeded in accomplishing—which none of those conspirators that you have lately disturbed in their midnight conclaves have had the audacity to devise. I know no institution in the country that can long withstand its sapping and deleterious in¬ fluence. As for the class of public men that have hitherto so gloriously adminis¬ tered the affairs of this country, I believe they will be swept off the face of our political world. For my part I protest against the system; I denounce it. Even at the eleventh hour I call upon the country to brand it with its indignant reprobation. But whatever may be the consequences— whatever may be the fortunes of individuals or the fate of institutions—I at least have had the satisfaction of calling public atten¬ tion to this political plague spot—I at least have had the satisfaction of attempting to place in a clear light the cause of this great national evil. I have had more—I have had the consolation of justifying this great assembly, in which it is my highest honour to hold a seat, and of vindicating, in the face of England, the character and conduct of the House of Commons.” By both sides of the House this speech was much admired. Mr. Disraeli during this period fre¬ quently returned to the subject of our foreign policy, and seldom discussed the question save in a condemnatory spirit. He did not consider that, by attempting to dic¬ tate to other nations, we advanced the cause of constitution li government. The cabinet, in his opinion, were departing from the established policy of England, and in several of the complications favoured by the foreign secretary he considered their successful issue impossible, and even if possible, of a positive disadvantage to the interests of the country. It must, however, be candidly admitted that though in several of his criticisms Mr. Disraeli had right on his side, he failed to see with the clearness of Lord Palmerston the result of many of the diplomatic intrigues then agitating every embassy in Europe. He called the idea of German nationality dreamy and dangerous nonsense, yet at the present day such “nonsense” is a most decided fact. Lord Palmerston, on the other hand, predicted the future with won¬ derful foresight. “Nature,” he writes to his brother about this date, “has not been bountiful to Prussia, at least to the district round Berlin, as regards soil and perhaps climate; but she has been more liberal as to mental endowments, and one cannot visit the country without being struck with the great intellectual activity which shows itself in all classes. There is scarcely a man in the country who cannot read and write. In short , Prussia is taking the lead in Ger¬ man civilization; and as Austria has gone to sleep and will be long before she wakes, Prussia has a fine career open to her for many years to cornel Therefore holding these opinions he favoured the development of German unity, whilst Mr. Disraeli opposed it, considering such an idea impracticable. Again as regards Italy the foreign secretary was right and Mr. Disraeli wrong. Lord Palmerston wished to see the whole of northern Italy united into one kingdom, and declared that the Austrians ought to have no place in Lombardy. “ Austria,” he wrote to Lord Ponsonby, “has never possessed Italy as part of her empire, but has always held it as a conquered territory. There has been no mixture of races. The only Austrians have been the troops and the civil officers. She has governed it as you govern a garrison town, and her rule has always been hateful.” Any Englishman who remembers the condition of North Italy before the Villafranca treaty—the intensity of the social and political hate of the Italians, and especially of the Italian ladies against the despotism of the alien 103 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD race—will confirm in even stronger terms the opinion of Lord Palmerston. Mr. Dis¬ raeli was hostile to the idea of Italian unity, and supported the occupation of Lombardy by the Austrians. Indeed, with regard to most of the questions relating to our foreign policy during this time upon which he was at variance with Lord Pal¬ merston, the usual prescience of the member for Bucks seems to have deserted him. One debate upon this subject has a melan¬ choly interest for us. A vote of censure on the foreign policy of the government had been carried in the House of Lords. The prime minister, however, expressed his in¬ tention not to resign, and argued that as the leader of the Conservatives had brought forward a vote of censure in the upper house it behoved the Conservative leader in the lower house to follow suit. Mr. Disraeli, aware that he was in a minority, was much too prudent a general to court a pitched battle. Thereupon Mr. Roebuck, who was always glad to cross swords with the Protectionist leader, brought for¬ ward a motion approving of the foreign policy of the government, and more par¬ ticularly as to its latest development in the form of a quarrel with Greece respecting the miserable Don Pacifico affair. The motion conveyed an “ oblique censure ” on the course which Lord Aberdeen, the foreign minister of Sir Robert Peel, had pursued, and therefore called forth a defence from the late premier. It was not known whether Sir Robert would vote for or against the government, and his words were listened to anxiously by both sides of the House. It was universally admitted that he had never spoken with more effect. He referred in tones of unmistakable regret to old friendships interrupted, but not, as he hoped, beyond the possibility of renewal. It is gratifying to learn that this sentiment was cheered by the Protectionists with such cordiality as to cause Sir Robert consider¬ able emotion. He hid his face in his hat, and remained silent for some moments. Then, proceeding with his speech, he vindi¬ cated the action of his own government in the past, and laid down the general lines on which our foreign policy should always be constructed. It was the last time he was to address the House. The next day, whilst riding up Constitution Hill, he was thrown from his horse, and died a few days afterwards from the internal injuries he had sustained. “Peace to his ashes!” writes Mr. Disraeli. “ His name will be often appealed to in that scene which he loved so well, and never without homage even by his opponents.” There were, however, few subjects, during this period of Whig ascendancy, which more frequently attracted the attention of Mr. Disraeli than the condition of the agricul¬ tural interest. All the evils he had foretold had come to pass; bread was not cheaper, wages had fallen; farmers, unable to compete with foreign imports, declined tcrenew their leases; and the country gentlemen, with the prospect of their farms being thrown upon their hands, and nothing but a gloomy future before them, began to retrench their expenditure, much to the loss of local trade. “We are to suffer,” they said, ‘‘the same fate as the West India planters; the eman¬ cipation of the slaves has destroyed the sugar interest; the repeal of the corn laws is to usher in the ruin of the landed in¬ terest.” Mr. Disraeli, as the leader of the country party, warmly supported its cause, and never lost an opportunity of bringing its condition before the House of Com¬ mons. What had been done should not be undone, he said; the corn laws had been repealed, and to struggle for their re¬ imposition would be unsound statesman¬ ship. Still it was possible to mitigate the evils that had ensued from the measure by a just method of relief. “ My conscience,” said he, addressing the agricultural associa¬ tion of Buckinghamshire, “ does not accuse me that when the protective system was attacked, I did not do my best to uphold it. But to uphold a system that exists, and to bring back a system that has been abro¬ gated, are two different things; and I am AND HIS TIMES. 109 convinced myself that the system generally known as the ‘protective system/ can never be brought back unless it is the interest of all classes—at least of all classes of importance—that that should be the principle which should regulate the national industry, and unless the nation speaks out upon the question in an unmistakable manner. (Let us remember this statement when we have to consider his conduct towards free-trade as chancellor of the exchequer.) But knowing as I do the diffi¬ culties in which the question is involved, am I, as the representative of an agricul¬ tural constituency, to sit still, and to say that those whose interests I represent are to be allowed to fall into a state of dilapi¬ dation because nothing but that one remedy can be acknowledged as the one that is satisfactory, when we all know that that is one that can be obtained only under most difficult circumstances ? No ; I look to the general question. What is the reason that the British agriculturist cannot compete with the foreign producer ? The reason is, that he is subjected to a load of taxation which overwhelms his energies, and which curtails his enterprise.” This load of taxation Mr. Disraeli used all his eloquence in his place in parliament to have, if not entirely, at least partly removed. The new commercial system, he was never wearied of informing his hearers, had had a trial, a fair trial, and had failed; the only result he saw of free trade was to bring about commercial collapse. It had been of service to other countries, who had benefited by our folly, to the ruin of some of the best of our markets, whilst England, in her turn, had gained no corresponding advantage. “ Reciprocity,” he said, “ is, indeed, a great principle—it is at once cosmopolitan and national. But the sys¬ tem you are pursuing is one quite con¬ trary; you go on fighting hostile tariffs with free imports, and the consequence is, that you are following a course most injuri¬ ous to the commerce of the country.” He then exposed the injustice of the heavy taxation that the land had to suffer. The whole of the local taxation of the country for national purposes fell mainly, if not exclusively, on real property, and visited with undue severity the occupiers of land. In fact, more than one-third of the revenue then derived from the excise was levied upon those agricultural products which, by the recent change in the law, had been exposed to direct competition with the untaxed commodities of foreign countries —the home producer thus being subjected to a burden of taxation which, by greatly enhancing the price, limited the demand for British produce, and to restrictions which injuriously interfered with the con¬ duct of his trade and industry. These grievances, Mr. Disraeli earnestly contended, should be redressed, and a more equitable apportionment of the public burdens estab¬ lished. The agricultural classes had been promised relief, first by Sir Robert Peel, and then by Lord John Russell, from the heavy imposts to which they were sub¬ jected ; but as yet nothing had been done. Was it wise to create this feeling of discon¬ tent and then to ignore it ? “ You think,” he warned, “ you may trust the proverbial loyalty of the agricultural classes. Trust their loyalty, but do not abuse it. I daresay it may be said of them as it was said 3000 years ago in the most precious legacy of political science that has descended to us—I daresay it may be said of them that the agricultural class is the least given to sedition. I doubt not that is as true of the Englishman of the plain and of the dale as it was of the Greek of the isle and of the continent; but it would be just as well if you also recollected that the fathers of these men were the founders of your liber¬ ties, and that before this time their ances¬ tors have bled for justice. Rely upon it that the blood of those men who refused to pay ship-money is not to be trifled with. Their conduct to you has exhibited no hostile feeling, notwithstanding the polit¬ ical changes that have abounded of late years, and all apparently to a diminution 110 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD of tlieir power. They have inscribed a homely sentence on their rural banners, but it is one which, if I mistake not, is already again touching the heart and con¬ vincing the reason of England—‘ Live and let live.’ You have adopted a different motto — you, the leading spirits on the benches which I see before me, have openly declared your opinion that if there were not an acre of land cultivated in England it would not be the worse for the country. You have all of you in open chorus an¬ nounced your object to be the monopoly of the commerce of the universe, and to make this country the workshop of the world. Your system and theirs are exactly contrary. They invite union. They believe that national prosperity can only be pro¬ duced by the prosperity of all classes. You prefer to remain in isolated splendour and solitary magnificence. But, believe me, I speak not as your enemy when I say, that it will be an exception to the principles which seem hitherto to have ruled society, if you can succeed in maintaining the success at which you aim without the possession of that permanence and stability which the territorial principle alone can afford. Although you may for a moment fiourish after their destruction—although your ports may be filled with shipping, your factories smoke on every plain, and your forges flame in every city—I see no reason why you should form an exception to that which the page of history has mournfully recorded; that you, too, should not fade like the Tyrian dye, and moulder like the Venetian palaces. But, united with the land, you will obtain the best and surest foundation upon which to build your enduring welfare; you will find in that interest a counsellor in all your troubles— in danger your undaunted champion, and in adversity your steady customer.” His counsel was, however, not heeded; yet Mr. Disraeli, though ridiculed by the free-traders and defeated on the several motions he proposed to the House of Commons for the relief of the agricultural interest, was not to be deterred from his object. To the dismay of the Whigs, and to the special annoyance of Mr. Cobden, he kept up a running fire of pertinent questions which were more easy to ask than to answer. He wanted to know, if the repeal of the corn laws had been so universally beneficial, why the poor rates had been raised seventeen per cent., why the manufacturing population who were said to be in the receipt of such high w T ages were flocking to the workhouses, why wages for piece work in the cotton trade had fallen, why the revenue which had formerly yielded a surplus was now marked by heavy deficiency, why there was such an increase—an increase in three years of seventy-four per cent.—in the number of able-bodied paupers in England, why in the three years 1845-48 statistics showed a diminution in our exports of £7,000,000, and other similar awkward inquiries. Then he again advocated the principle of reciprocity, and proposed to meet hostile tariffs of foreign countries with countervailing duties. He was op¬ posed by Sir Robert Peel in his most unpleasant manner, for it is an error to suppose that after the repeal of the corn laws all sparring between the ex-premier and the member for Bucks was at an end. Erequent venomous passages of arms ensued between the two, as the reader of Hansard can see for himself. On this occasion Mr. Disraeli thus re¬ torted :—“ I must say,” he replied, referring to Sir Robert Peel’s condemnation of the theory of reciprocity, “with all respect to the right hon. baronet, that there is something in his manner when he addresses on these subjects his former companions, which I will not say is annoying, but rather I would style somewhat astonishing. One would almost imagine from the tone of the right hon. gentleman that he had never for a moment held other opinions on this subject —that he had never entertained a doubt about it—that he had been born an infant Hercules, cradled in political economy, and AND HIS TIMES. Ill only created to strangle the twin serpents of protection and monopoly. . . . The right hon. gentleman should view one’s errors at least with charity. He is not exactly the individual who, ex cathedra , should lecture us on the principles of political economy. He might, at least, when he denounces our opinions, suppose that in their profession we may perhaps be supported by that strength of conviction which, for nearly forty years, sustained him in those economical errors of which he was the learned and powerful professor. . . . He preaches a crusade against the system of commercial reciprocity. . . . Men of great scientific research have investigated and illustrated it; and I believe that it will require more time and discussion than it has yet received in this house, before it can be thrown into that limbo of stale opinions in which the right hon. gentleman has found it convenient to deposit so many of his former convictions.” In spite of the Free-traders having a majority in the House, the Protectionists possessed a large following in the country. Meetings were held in almost every shire, advocating reciprocity and protesting against the English producer being handicapped for the benefit of his foreign competitor. All that was wanted, cried impoverished trades¬ men, was justice ; but this the government refused to grant them. Ho notice was taken of their complaints ; local taxation was not re-adjusted, and the imposts which specially pressed upon the agricultural interest still continued to paralyze industry. In a powerful speech, Mr. Disraeli warned the government of the dangers it incurred by exchanging the aristocratic principle, which was the sound foundation of England’s fortunes, for that of middle-class tinkering and a false system of economy. “ You set to work,” he said, “to change the basis upon which English society was established —you disdain to attempt the accomplish¬ ment of the best, and what you want to achieve is the cheapest. But I have shown you that, considered only as an economical principle, the principle is fallacious—that its infallible consequence is to cause the impoverishment and embarrassment of the people, as proved by the dark records to which I have had occasion so much to refer. But the impoverishment of the people is not the only ill consequence which the new system may produce. The wealth of England is not merely material wealth— it does not merely consist in the number of acres we have tilled and cultivated, nor in our havens filled with shipping, nor in our unrivalled factories, nor in the intrepid industry of our miners. Hot these merely form the principal wealth of our country— we have a more precious treasure, and that is the character of the people. That is what you have injured. In destroying what you call class legislation, you have destroyed that noble and indefatigable am¬ bition which has been the best source of all our greatness, of all our prosperity, and of all our power. I know of nothing more remarkable in the present day than the general discontent which prevails, accom¬ panied as it is on all sides by an avowed inability to suggest any remedy. The feature of the present day is depression and perplexity. As far as I can judge, men in every place—in the golden saloon and in the busy mart of industry, in the port and in the exchange, by the loom or by the plough, every man says, * 1 suffer, and I see no hope.’ ” He ended with a declaration of war against the ministry. It was on this occasion that Mr. Bernal Osborne described the motion of Mr. Disraeli as “a flash in the pan motion.” Mr. Disraeli stood up at once and cried, “ I say it is an earnest and serious motion; its object is to turn out the government. We may not succeed, but we shall succeed some day.” They had not long to wait. CHAPTER VI. WHIG D While the country was a prey to this state of gloom and discontent, an affair occurred which created no little excitement at the time. Our national pulse has occa¬ sionally been made to beat quicker at the rumours, circulated by the credulous and the suspicious, as to the prospect of foreign conquest. Now it has been Spain that threatened us, then Holland, then France, and there are some among us at the present day who deplore the unprotected condition of our east coast, and talk mys¬ teriously of a German invasion. But it was reserved for the government of Lord John Russell to terrify us with the prospect and possibility of a spiritual conquest. Ever since the revival of ceremonialism or ritualism, which was one of the conse¬ quences of the Tractarian agitation, Rome has been busy in our midst with all her proselytizing machinery, and has had no reason to regret the success that has at¬ tended upon her efforts. Ritualism has been to her an active and ever useful decoy. The idle, the fashionable, and the frivolous, who wish a new excitement, find in the routine of ceremonialism a constant occupation. The lounger, who is fond of music, flowers, processions, and a theatrical ritual, forsakes his, perhaps, dull parish church for the bright little temple of the ceremonialist, and thinks, as he sings, and kneels, and gesticulates, that he is engaged in public worship. The fashionable woman of the world, w T ho, wearied or disappointed with society, moaned over the time that hung so heavily upon her hands, now finds in the resources of ceremonialism a constant occupation — early celebrations, frequent church services, the embroidery of altar cloths, the arrangement of church E c L I N E. decorations, the quiet festivities, the sub¬ dued flirtations, all make the once leaden day pass swiftly and pleasantly. That large floating population, who dislike religious worship, but who do not feel comfortable unless its forms are occasionally gone through, gladly avail themselves of the fascinations placed within their reach by the ceremonialist, and render thanks that at last the pill of public devotion has so charmingly gilded. It is impossible to deny that ceremonial¬ ism is daily gaining converts among the higher, or to speak more correctly, among the wealthier classes. We are living under a plutocracy, and ritualism is essentially the religion for the rich. In ritualism plutocracy sees itself reflected: it is the caricature of an ancient faith, as the plutocrat is himself the caricature of the aristocrat of former days; it is gay, and gaudy, and fond of pomp and show, like the plutocrat; it is arrogant and self-asserting, its priests con¬ cealing their w T ant of birth and scholarship by the robes of sacerdotal pretensions, as the plutocrat himself attempts to hide his deficiencies by the display of his wealth and money power : it is shallow, unscrupu¬ lous, and miserably effeminate. Yet no one can deny that it is a force in the country, and one daily extending in power. It is, however, at the present day, an accepted fact; the novelty is worn off; we are high church or low church as it suits our intellectual calibre, or aesthetic fancies, and the circumstance of being either is so much a matter of course as to excite little or no remark. In the year 1850 cere¬ monialism occupied a very different posi¬ tion, and created very different feelings. It was new, and there was an attractive hue THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. 113 of medievalism about it. Its apostles were, not as now, often literates glad to conceal the absence of the university hood by the richly woven cope, but distinguished men; and every one who attached himself to the new creed professed it with the fervour and in¬ tolerance of the typical apostate. Then after reflection, those who adopted these forms and ceremonies soon arrived at the truth, that the logical conclusion of ritualism was Romanism, and their next step was to enrol themselves as adherents of the Papacy. Few will contradict the assertion, that the teaching of the ritualist has caused, and is causing, numbers of Englishmen and Englishwomen to embrace the Roman Catholic faith. Such persons, however, now accept quietly and unostentatiously their new creed, and their desertion from Protest¬ antism, therefore, creates little comment. In 1850, and the years immediately pre¬ ceding and succeeding that date, conversions to the Roman Church were not only very numerous, but the men who then swore fealty to the Pope were among the most eminent of England’s sons; and hence their abandonment of the faith of their fathers caused considerable commotion. Thus san¬ guine Rome believed that the England which had repelled her advances since the days of Cardinal Pole, was ripe to receive those views she had rejected at the Reformation. Special missions were, therefore, organized with the one object of the conversion of the inhabitants of our stubborn island. Churches were built, monasteries were founded, nun¬ neries sprang up in secluded spots; and so brilliant were the successes which this Catholic activity obtained, that, to foreign eyes, it appeared as if England was fast losing hold of her Protestantism. The pope, and continental archbishops and bishops, saw the Catholic churches in England crowded, the priests well received, the Irish dignitaries treated with every respect by the government of the day, and ritualism, the precursor of Romanism, the fashionable faith of the country. Yet it was, then as now, only an agitation on the surface—the VOL. i. great bulk of the nation was untouched by the revival. The educated higher classes, the middle classes, and the lower classes, have always been opposed to the pretensions of the papist or the ceremonialist; the tendency of their religious feeling sets more towards deism or puritanism than to super¬ stition. It is from the minority—from an emotional, a fashionable, a frivolous minority —that ritualism draws her votaries and Rome makes her converts. The supreme Pontiff was not aware of this fact. A foreigner, holding his court in the distant city of Rome, and arriving at his conclusions only by rumour and hearsay, it was pardonable for him to mistake a broad but shallow tributary for the main stream. He dreamed that all England was in favour of a return to Catholicism when it was but a section of her people; and he issued his famous state paper which was only to show him how far the nation in its entirety was removed from any wish of again being subject to his jurisdiction. He was to find that his yoke was as hateful to England generally as it had ever been. The disappointment of the Vatican at the reception in England of this memorable document was, however, very keen. A totally different feeling had been expected. Eor the last few years the English Catholics had been appealing to Rome to be placed on the same footing as their brethren across St. George’s channel. Instead of the vicars-apostolic who then superintended their spiritual condition, the English Catholics wished as in Ireland to have the country parcelled out into sees, and bishops openly acknowledged once more to rule over the land of k Becket and Pole. A few of the more latitudinarian English Catholics—who were Englishmen first and Papists afterwards—objected to the expres¬ sion of this desire, since, they said, such an introduction might interfere with their allegiance to the sovereign, but these were in the minority. The mass were in favour of the establishment of a Catholic hier¬ archy, and for the free exercise of their 15 114 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD religion with all its accustomed pomp and splendour. Nor was this feeling surprising; it was but the natural development of the liberty accorded by the Catholic Emancipation Act. In every earnest and enlightened mind religion is the predominating influence, and consequently the Papist, relieved of his political disabilities, was not content until his religious disabilities were also removed. He wanted the rank of his clergy to be frankly admitted, a hierarchy to be instituted, and his church to be treated as at least the equal of the estab¬ lished creed of the land. It was this development that Sir Robert Peel had feared, and which had caused him in the earlier days of Catholic agitation to oppose the Emancipation Act. “ If you give the Catholics,” said he, “ that fair proportion of national power to which their numbers, wealth, talents, and education will entitle them, can you believe that they will or can remain contented with the limits which you assign to them ? Do you think that they will view with satisfaction the state of your church or their own ? Do you think that if they are constituted like other men; if they have organs, senses, affections, passions like ourselves; if they are, as no doubt they are, sincere and zealous professors of that religious faith to which they belong; if they believe your intrusive church to have usurped the temporalities which it possesses—do you think that they will not aspire to the re-establishment of their own church in all its ancient splendour ? Is it not natural that they should ? If I argue from my own feelings, if I place myself in their situation, I answer that it is. May I not then, without throwing any calumnious imputations upon any Roman Catholics . . . may I not, arguing from the motives by which men are actuated, from the feelings which nature inspires—may I not question the policy of admitting those who must have views hostile to the religious estab¬ lishments of the state, to the capacity of legislating for the interests of those establishments and the power of directing the government of which those establish¬ ments form so essential a part ? ” Therefore believing, as nearly 300 years ago Cardinal Pole had believed when he set out from the monastery by the blue waters of the Lago di Guarda for the shores of England, that our country was no longer prejudiced against the Holy See, but softened, almost repentant, and well-nigh ready to return to its long-forsaken loyalty, Pius IX. issued the bull ordaining “the re-establishment in the kingdom of England and according to the common laws of the church, of a hierarchy of bishops deriving their titles from their own sees.” The whole country was mapped out into dioceses and placed under the spiritual jurisdiction of Cardinal Wiseman as archbishop of Westminster, and twelve suffragans instead of the eight apostolic vicariates that had formerly existed. In addition to this invasion of the territory of a Protestant country, his Holiness reserved to himself a power which the Vatican has never dared to exercise in any Catholic kingdom. All bishops appointed to these new sees were to be nominated alone by the Pope, and the government of the day was not even permitted to have a voice in the elections or to exercise the right of veto. This piece of absolutism was at variance with the etiquette usually followed by the court of Rome on similar occasions. In all countries holding the Catholic faith the government either selects the candidate for the episcopate or exercises the right of veto on his appointment. The case had arisen before. In 1813, on the motion of Mr. Grattan for the immediate consideration in a committee of the whole House of the laws affecting the Roman Catho¬ lics, the Papists had refused to grant the Crown a veto on the appointment of Roman Catholic bishops in Ireland. Sir Robert Peel thus expressed himself:—“ Let the Catholics recollect,” he said, “ that they are not only unwilling to pay the same price for political AND HIS TIMES. 115 privileges that is exacted from the other subjects of His Majesty, but that they have hitherto refused to submit to the same restrictions that with their own consent are imposed upon the Catholics of other countries wherein the government is not Catholic; and this with the Pope’s consent. When gentlemen refer us to the state of the Catholics of Canada, and to their admission to offices there and in Russia, let them recollect that the cases are not parallel—that in Canada the Protestant sovereign of this country has the appoint¬ ment of the Catholic bishop of Quebec; and that when the Empress Catherine founded the Catholic church of Mohilau, the Pope, as a matter of course, granted his sanction to the appointment of a bishop nominated by the empress. Let gentlemen recollect when they charge us with bigotry and with intolerance, that the claims now advanced by the Catholics are claims which unquestionably would have been rejected without hesitation at a time when Catholic princes were on the throne of these realms, and when Catholics composed its legisla¬ ture.” It was therefore more the manner in which this papal bull was issued than the nature of the clauses contained in it which excited the ire of the English people. “ The thing itself in truth,” writes Lord Palmerston, “is little or nothing, and does not justify the irritation. What has goaded the nation is the manner, insolent and ostentatious, in which it has been done. . . . Nobody w r ould have remarked or objected to the change if it had been made quietly, and only in the bosom of the church. What the Pope and his priests have lately done has materially injured the Catholic cause.” Certainly the excitement created by the measure was extreme, and when calmly considered was not a little ridiculous. Meetings were held all over the country denouncing in the strongest language the papal bull and the new cardinal. All the old Protestant stories as to the relationship existing between priests and nuns were freely circulated, and pamphlets, especially illustrated pamphlets, which dealt in unsa¬ voury monastic and conventual revelations, had an immense sale. It was at the time when the effigy of Guy Fawkes was generally carried about the streets; but now, instead of the old conspirator, with his well-known Spanish hat, and lantern, and transpontine boots, there appeared the stuffed figure of Cardinal Wiseman clad in his scarlet robes, which was consigned to the flames amid the cheers of an enthusiastic mob. Addresses poured in upon the queen from all parties and from all institutions, breathing the most fervid loyalty. At the lord mayor’s dinner the lord chancellor awoke the wildest ap¬ plause by introducing in his speech the quotation from Shakspeare—“Under my feet I’ll stamp thy cardinal’s hat, in spite of pope or dignities of the church.” At the theatre Charles Kean was playing King John. When he came to the words in his reply to Pandulph— “ That no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; But as we under Heaven are supreme head, So, under him, that great supremacy, Where we do reign, we will alone uphold, Without the assistance of a mortal hand; So tell the pope; all reverence set apart, To him, and his usurp’d authority 55 — the performance was stopped for several minutes, so frantic were the cheers of the audience. Protestant associations, Father Gavazzi, and “ Dr. Cumming of Scotland,” made excellent capital out of the national excitement, and caused the “'no Popery” cry to swell in volume and fury. Unfortunately Cardinal Wiseman had done all in his power to irritate the preju¬ dices of the English people by the issue of a very arrogant and offensive pastoral letter. It was dated “ out of the Flaminian Gate at Rome,” thus reminding Englishmen that from out of Rome itself came the declara¬ tion of supremacy over them, and it was addressed to the faithful about to become his spiritual subjects. It calmly ignored the legal rights of the English episcopate, 116 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD and took not the slightest notice of the existence of any other church or faith in the kingdom save that of the Catholics. It affected to look upon England as a nation restored by an act of spiritual sovereignty to the body of the Roman church, and regarded the new hierarchy as the only legitimate source of ecclesiastical jurisdic¬ tion. “The great work,” it declared, “is complete; what you have long desired and prayed for is granted. Your beloved country has received a place among the fair churches which normally constituted form the splen¬ did aggregate of Catholic communion; Catholic England has been restored to its orbit in the ecclesiastical firmament, from which its light had long vanished, and begins now anew its course of regularly adjusted action around the centre of unity, the source of jurisdiction, of light, and of vigour.” The prime minister was far too feverish and impulsive a man to allow an occasion like the present to escape his trenchant criticisms. The Whigs were no longer in the ascendant, they were daily becoming more and more unpopular in the country; and Lord John Russell now thought he saw his way to appeal to the passions of the nation, and improve his political position. As in his famous Edinburgh letter he had made a bid for office by appealing to the free traders, so now, in his equally memor¬ able Durham letter, he bade for a further tenure of power by appealing to the Protest¬ antism of the country. The bishop of Durham had written to the prime minister upon the recent papal aggression, and Lord John, without any consultation with his colleagues, at once penned the following answer, which forthwith found its way into the newspapers:— “Downing Street, November 4 , 1850 . “My Dear Lord,—I agree with you in con¬ sidering the late aggression of the pope upon our Protestantism as insolent and insidious, and I therefore feel as indignant as you can do upon the subject. I not only promoted to the utmost of my power the claims of Roman Catholics to all civil rights • but I thought it right, and even desirable, that the ecclesiastical system of the Roman Catholics should be the means of giving instruction to the numerous Irish emigrants in London and elsewhere, who, without such help, would have been left in heathen ignorance. This might have been done, however, without any such innovation as we have now seen. “It is impossible to confound the recent measures of the pope with the division of Scotland into dioceses by the Episcopal Church, or the arrange¬ ment of districts in England by the V/esleyan Conference. There is an assumption of power in all the documents which have come from Rome— a pretension to supremacy over the realm of England, and a claim to sole and undivided sway which is inconsistent with the queen’s supremacy, with the rights of our bishops and clergy, and with the spiritual independence of the nation, as asserted even in Roman Catholic times. “ I confess, however, that my alarm is not equal to my indignation. Even if it shall appear that the ministers and servants of the pope in this country have not transgressed the law, I feel persuaded that we are strong enough to repel any outward attacks. The liberty of Protestantism has been enjoyed too long in England to allow of any successful attempt to impose a foreign yoke upon our minds and consciences. No foreign prince or potentate will be permitted to fasten his fetters upon a nation which has so long and so nobly vindicated its right to freedom of opinion, civil, political, and religious. “ Upon this subject, then, I will only say that the present state of the law shall be carefully examined, and the propriety of adopting any pro¬ ceedings with reference to the recent assumption of power deliberately considered. “ There is a danger, however, which alarms me much more than any aggression of a foreign sovereign. Clergymen of our own church, who have subscribed the Thirty-nine Articles and acknowledged in explicit terms the queen’s supremacy, have been the most forward in leading their flock, step by step, to the very verge of the precipice. The honour paid to saints, the claim of infallibility for the Church, the superstitious use of the sign of the cross, the muttering of the Liturgy so as to disguise the language in which it is written, the recommendation of auricular con¬ fession, and the administration of penance and absolution—all these things are pointed out by clergymen of the Church of England as worthy of adoption, and are now openly reprehended by the bishop of London in his charge to the clergy of his diocese. What then is the danger to be appre¬ hended from a foreign prince of no great power, compared to the danger within the gates from the unworthy sons of the- Church of England herself? AND HIS TIMES. 117 “] have little hope that the propoimders and framers of these innovations will desist from their insidious course ; but I rely with confidence on the people of England, and I will not bate a jot of heart or life so long as the glorious principles and the immortal martyrs of the Reformation shall be held in reverence by the great mass of a nation which looks with contempt on the mum¬ meries of superstition, and with scorn at the laborious endeavours which are now making to confine the intellect and enslave the soul.—I re¬ main, with great respect, &c., J. Russell.” This letter was received by the country with various feelings. By some it was looked upon as an exaggeration of matters, and as an unworthy attempt to fan the passions of the hour. The majority of the premier’s colleagues, who had not been consulted as to the composition of this famous private state-paper, regarded its issue with disfavour, and as calculated to act detrimentally to the position of the cabinet. But by a large portion of the nation its thoroughly Protestant tone, and especially the strictures passed upon the ritualists, were hailed with delight. The country party have always been the warm adherents of royalty’s great ally, the Church of England. They regard her not only as a grand old historical corporation, but as a communion in which will be found a purer doctrine, a deeper faith, and a more enlightened discipline than in any other religious body. Their social instincts make them dislike dissent, their religious princi¬ ples make them dislike Popery. To the old-fashioned country gentleman, whose hall or manor-house is within easy reach of the village church where moulder the bones of his ancestors, the Church of England is precisely the communion suited to his tastes, his habits, and his prejudices : her creed is Protestant, her clergy are gentlemen, and her discipline is orderly, without mummery. Holding these views, the country party had in bygone days been among the most earn¬ est of the opponents to the emancipation of the Roman Catholics, whilst the sickly sacerdotal pretensions of the Puseyites were even more repugnant to their manly English nature. They agreed with Lord Eldon, that the union between the church and the state was not supported to make the church political, but the state religious; and that the English constitution was not based upon the principles of equal rights to all men indiscriminately, but of equal rights to all men conforming to, and complying with, the tests which that constitution required for its ascendancy. As the leader of the country party, Mr. Disraeli was desired to express his opinion upon the recent agitation. In his “ Vindica¬ tion of the English Constitution,” he writes, “ It is one of the leading principles of the policy of England that the religious dis¬ cipline and future welfare of our citizens are even of greater importance than their political or present well-being;” and as we proceed in this history we shall see how on subsequent occasions he rallied the Tory party for the defence of the union of church and state. He therefore gladly complied with the request, though he con¬ sidered that, on the present occasion, the Government was more to be blamed than the Vatican for the scare that had been created. Like the prime minister, he ex¬ pressed his views through the medium of the post. He addressed a letter to the lord- lieutenant of his county. He considered the Pope was not so much to blame as the present cabinet; if Lord John Russell and his colleagues had not foolishly gone out of their way to show such marked atten¬ tion to the Roman Catholic prelates of Ireland, by openly giving them the rank they silently claimed, the supreme pontiff would never have been encouraged to put forth his recent pretensions. There had always been Roman Catholic bishops in England who had exercised authority over their respective congregations, and from them had received every homage; yet the state had never taken any more notice of them than it had of the chief rabbi or the president of the body of the Wesleyans. On the other hand, the present govern- 118 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD ment had granted to the Irish prelates their titles of honour, had placed them in the table of precedence, and had treated them as if they were on a footing with our own hierarchy. “ After the recognition given by the government to the Irish hier¬ archy,” writes Mr. Disraeli to the lord- lieutenant, and commenting upon the con¬ tents of the Durham letter, “ His Holiness might well deem himself at liberty to apportion England into dioceses, to he ruled over by bishops. Instead of supposing that he was taking a step ‘ insolent and insidi¬ ous/ he might conceive he was acting in strict accordance with Her Majesty’s govern¬ ment. The fact is, the whole question has been surrendered and decided in favour of the Pope by the present government. The ministers who recognized the pseudo¬ archbishop of Tuam as a peer and a pre¬ late, cannot object to the appointment of a pseudo-archbishop of Westminster, even though he be a cardinal. On the contrary, the loftier dignity should., according to their table of precedence, rather invest his Emi¬ nence with a still higher patent of nobility, and permit him to take the wall of his Grace of Canterbury, and the highest nobles of the land. The policy of the present gov¬ ernment is, that there shall be no distinc¬ tion between England and Ireland. I am therefore rather surprised that the cabinet are so * indignant/ as a certain letter with which we have just been favoured informs us they are.” The Houses assembled February 4,1851, and at once the papal bull became the prominent subject of discussion. “ The recent assumption of certain ecclesiastical titles,” said Her Majesty in the speech from the throne, “ conferred by a foreign power, lias excited strong feelings in this country, and large bodies of my subjects have pre¬ sented addresses to me, expressing attach¬ ment to the throne, and praying that such assumptions should be resisted. I have assured them of my resolution to maintain the rights of my crown and the independ¬ ence of the nation against all encroachment, from whatever quarter it may proceed. I have at the same time expressed my earnest desire and firm determination, under God’s blessing, to maintain unimpaired the reli¬ gious liberty which is so justly prized by the people of this country. It will be for you to consider the measure which will be laid before you on this subject.” A lively debate then ensued. Lord John Russell made a long explanation as to the publication of the Durham letter; Mr. Roebuck bitterly attacked it for having been the means of creating an unworthy panic in the country, and condemned the cabinet for the course they had pursued with regard to the treatment of the Irish hierarchy. Mr. Disraeli also took part in the discussion. He did not think, he said, that the famous Durham letter was solely provoked by the appointment of Cardinal Wiseman as arch¬ bishop of Westminster. He believed the noble lord at the head of the govern¬ ment thought that the time had now arrived, when he felt that a great change would take place in the relations which must hereafter subsist between the Crown of England and the Pope of Rome, and the prime minister had availed himself of this last drop in the cup to adopt the policy which he had long meditated. He could not suppose that the noble lord only con¬ templated the bringing in of a bill to prevent Roman Catholics from styling them¬ selves bishop or archbishop of any of the towns or cities in the queen’s dominions; he could not be about to bring in any such measure as that, because then he would not have been justified in stirring up the passions of a mighty people, in exciting their highest and holiest feelings, and in raising in this country a spirit of controversy and polemical dispute which recalled the days of the Stuarts. “But if the noble lord,” con¬ cluded Mr. Disraeli, “ be prepared to do a great deal—if he be prepared to solve the great political problem that may not be incapable of solution, but that no minister has ever solved—then, indeed, he may be justified in the course he has taken; then, AND HIS TIMES. 119 indeed, he may lay claim to the reputation and the character of a great minister. Such is the measure he must bring in to authorize the course he has taken; such is the measure I for one would humbly sup¬ port ; such is the measure I believe the country expects; and if it does not receive it, I believe the opinions of Protestants and Roman Catholics on one point will be unanimous—that the conduct of the noble lord cannot be justified.” We know what was the measure which Lord John introduced. A bill was brought in to prevent the assumption by Roman Catholics of titles taken from any territory or place within the United Kingdom under penalty of a severe fine, and to render void ail acts done by or bequests made to persons under such titles. The reception given to the measure could hardly have gratified the author. Mr. Roebuck declared that it was “one of the meanest, pettiest, and most futile measures that ever disgraced even bigotry itself.” Mr. Bright said it was “ a mere sham to bolster up Church ascendancy.” Mr. Disraeli was, however, the most trench¬ ant critic of the bill. He would not oppose, he said, the introduction of the measure because he thought it important “ that the people, the community in general, should see what is the result of that remarkable agitation which has been fostered by the government, and which has led, I admit, to a national demonstration seldom perhaps equalled.” After all these heavings the mountain had been delivered, and this most ridiculous of mice was the result! “What!” he cried, “ was it for this that the lord high chancellor of England trampled on a cardinal’s hat, amid the patriotic acclama¬ tions of the metropolitan municipality ? Was it for this that the first minister, with more reserve, delicately hinted to the assembled guests that there had been occa¬ sions when perhaps even greater danger was at hand, as, for instance, when the shadow of the Armada darkened the seas of England ? Was it for this that all the counties and corporations of England met ? Was it for this that all our learned and religious societies assembled at a period the most inconvenient, in order, as they thought, to respond to the appeal of their sovereign, and to lose no time in assuring Her Majesty of their determination to guard her authority and her supremacy? Was it for this that the universities of Oxford and Cambridge—that the great city of London itself—went in solemn procession to offer at the foot of the throne the assurance of their devotion ? Was it for this that the electric telegraph conveyed Her Majesty’s response to those addresses, that not an instant might be lost in re-assuring the courage of the inhabitants of the metropolis? And what are these remedies ? Some Roman Catholic priests are to be prevented from taking titles which they had already been prevented to a very considerable extent from taking by the existing law; the only difference being that they are now to be prevented from taking a territorial title which has not been assumed by a prelate of the National Church; while it seems that to that provision there is to be attached a penalty. But a penalty of what amount? One of 40s. perhaps. That is not yet stated, but a penalty of that amount would, in my opinion, be worthy of the occasion.” Throughout the progress of the Ecclesias¬ tical Titles Bill through the House of Com¬ mons Mr. Disraeli pursued the same course of banter and opposition. He called it “ a blunder of the sudden,” in allusion to the manner in which the prime minister had described the papal bull; he protested against the Whigs being allowed to govern the country by “ a continual popish plot; ” he objected to the penalty clause. “What a mockery,” he cried, “when Her Majesty’s ministers themselves be-Grace and be-Lord these individuals, that they should now propose penal enactments because they are treated by the rest of Her Majesty’s subjects with respect and with honour!” After much discussion, to finish the story of this miserable piece of legislation, the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, with all the vigour 120 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD of its clauses eliminated in committee, became a law which was never obeyed and which was, after having been treated for some years with silent contempt, quietly erased from the statute-book. “The ministers,” writes a recent historian, “were in fact in the difficulty of all statesmen who bring in a measure, not because they themselves are clear as to its necessity or its efficacy, but because they find that something must be done to satisfy public feeling, and they do not know of anything better to do at the moment. The history of the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill was there¬ fore a history of blunder, unlucky accident, and failure from the moment it was brought in until its ignominious and ridiculous repeal many years after, and when its absolute impotence had been not merely demonstrated, but forgotten.” For a brief moment ministerial incapacity was to be interrupted. Mr. Disraeli had introduced a motion calling upon the cabinet to bring forward some measure for the relief of the agricultural interest, which was then terribly depressed; a division ensued, and the government won by a small majority. In the next struggle they were to sustain defeat. During the last few years the Reform Bill of 1832, in spite of the chorus of approval with which it had at first been received, had become the subject of much criticism among certain members of the Liberal party. It was said that it was not sufficiently comprehensive, that it was somewhat invidious in the nature of its clauses, and that there was scope for amendment with regard to various of its provisions. The most prominent amongst the discontented was Mr. Locke King, the member for East Surrey, a man of much energy, with a keen eye to all absurd or unjust entries in the statute-book, of no little eloquence, and of considerable popu¬ larity with his party. In the summer of 1850 he had asked leave to bring in a bill to make the franchise in counties in England and Wales the same as that in boroughs, by giving the right of voting to all occupiers of tenements of the annual value of ten pounds. This motion was supported by Mr. Hume, of economical notoriety, by Mr. Bright, by Sir De Lacy Evans, who then represented Westminster, and by others of the more advanced section of the Liberals. It was opposed by Lord John Russell, though on a subsequent occasion when the bill came up for the second reading his lordship intimated that he was prepared to recede from his previous principle of “finality” and to disturb the parliamentary settlement of 1832. Mr. Disraeli delivered a short speech on this occasion, expressing disapproval of Mr. Locke King’s motion. He had been par¬ ticularly struck, he said, at the erroneous apprehension on the part of several members of what the English constitution really was. Then, according to a custom not infrequent with him, he blended with his speech a little of the elements of a constitutional lecture. He had always believed that every gentleman, whatever his opinions might be as to the proper franchise for England or Ireland, had considered that the constitution of England was a monarchy, modified by estates of the realm—that was, by privileged classes, who were invested with those privileges for the advantage of the community. They had a Throne—they had a body of Peers, and a body of Com¬ mons, who were in possession of certain privileges, which privileges they might increase or diminish; but still those privi¬ leges had always been, and must remain, the privileges of particular orders, and enjoyed by only a limited portion of the community. They knew what was the re¬ sult, whatever might have been the original intention of such a constitution. It had established the aristocratic principle in the widest and most noble sense of the term. But it had permitted all classes to aspire; and however society might be divided in olden days, there was no class which could say it did not possess the privilege of electing representatives to the House of Commons, from the proudest manorial lord AND HIS TIMES. 121 to the humblest artisan. Less than a quarter of a century ago that was the acknowledged state of things. However, they thought proper to terminate that scheme. It was terminated by Lord John Russell in his official capacity; enthusiasti¬ cally supported by many members of the House. There was no member opposite who had not acquired his seat in the House by adopting the views of govern¬ ment, and the principles of the Reform party. They were responsible for, and they ought to be grateful to, the Reform Act. But now a great many gentlemen opposite seemed discontented with the settlement of 1832, who at that time were ready to vote black was white in its behalf —who went to the country for the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill— who had so profoundly and so maturely investigated the question, that they resolved that the perfect scheme which they adopted should not be altered or modified, and who gave their deliberate consent to a change which they determined should be per¬ manent. But ever since the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill, had been gained, the result appeared to give only partial satisfaction. Querulous complaints of the law were constantly heard from hon. gentlemen opposite, who were sent to that House by the operation of that law, and who represented what were called liberal opinions in that House. Those hon. gentle¬ men, they found, were constantly quarrelling with the political arrangements which sent them into the House. He spoke not only his own feelings, con¬ tinued Mr. Disraeli, but the feelings of many of his friends, when he said they had no superstitious reverence for the Reform Act. He admitted he would have opposed it had he been in the House at the time, brought forward as it was by a party, in opposition to whom, from historical conviction, he ever acted. But it was carried by a large majority; it was received as the settlement of a great public question—not a great party question. Still, though the Tories had no superstitious VOL. I. reverence for the bill, they could not be blind to the great public inconvenience and injury likely to arise from the proceedings of certain gentlemen opposite, who, in a retail manner, were sapping that settlement which they accepted at the time with such wholesale enthusiasm. He did not think, he said, and let us remember his words when we have to deal with his bill of 1867, that it was a settlement that might not have been improved. He regretted that when the privileges of the working classes were abrogated , no equivalent was devised. He regretted that in the Reform Act the rights of the working classes were not more respected. But who voted against them ? Who voted against the freemen ? The liberal members, the clam- ourers for the whole bill, and nothing but the bill. He wished to know what hon. gentlemen opposite meant. Did they mean to say they would no longer endure the ancient constitution of the country—a monarchy modified by the political estates of the realm ? If they were of opinion that every acre ought to be represented— every pound sterling of capital, and every individual of the population, ought to be represented in the House—if they said that, then he replied, they proposed a revolution in the constitution. If the House was to represent all material and personal interests, it was absurd to suppose any influence could be exercised by any other estate of the realm, or by the Crown itself. But were they prepared to do that ? If so, why did they come forward with a £10 franchise, which, when met by an amendment, they withdrew ? Were they prepared to say that every man “full grown” should be entitled to the suffrage, and ought to be allowed to exercise it ? Why not make the proposition ? On the contrary, the most eminent members of their party had made speeches against it. They did not propose that; they disclaimed it; they shrank from it; they admitted that it was dangerous. Now, would these reformers meet the question fairly, and tell the 16 122 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD House that they were prepared to change the constitution of the country ? They would not. Hot one of them would do that, because they knew that their answer would be that they would have then to entiust privileges to persons they would not confer them on. “ Is the possession of the franchise to be a privilege,” asked Mr. Disraeli, “ the privi¬ lege of industry and public virtue, or is it to be a right—the right of every one, how¬ ever degraded, however indolent, however unworthy ? I am for the system,” he con¬ tinued, “ which maintains in this country a large and free government, having confi¬ dence in the energies and the faculties of man. Therefore, I say, make the franchise a privilege, but let it be the privilege of the civic virtues. Hon. gentlemen opposite would degrade the franchise to the man, instead of raising the man to the franchise. If you want to have a free aristocratic country—free because aristocratic—I use the word aristocratic in its noblest sense— I mean that aristocratic freedom which enables every man to achieve the best posi¬ tion in the state to which his qualities entitle him; I know not that we can do better than adhere to the mitigated monarchy of England, with power in the Crown, order in one estate of the realm, and liberty in the other. It is from that happy combination that we have produced a state of society that all other nations look upon with admiration and envy.” Shortly after the bare victory of the Whigs upon Mr. Disraeli’s motion to relieve the agricultural interest, the member for East Surrey a second time brought forward his pet scheme for the consideration of the House. The motion was again opposed by Lord John Russell, but on this occasion the ministers sustained a severe defeat; and the premier, aware of the unpopularity of the cabinet, felt he had no alternative but to tender his resignation to the queen. And now the usual anxiety prevailed as to who was to be the successor. There was no lack of material out of which a cabinet might be formed, if the different elements would put aside their prejudices and coalesce. There were the Whigs, the Protectionists, and the followers of Sir Robert Peel; a coalition between either of these parties would form a strong government; without such coalition any government taking office would be weak. Ho combination could, however, be effected; each party had its own favourite measures which it declined to throw over. The Conservatives would not abandon the policy of protection; the Peelites would have nothing to do with the wretched Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, then in all the throes of amendments, whilst nothing would induce the Whigs to forsake the bill. Lord John Russell essayed to effect a coalition with the followers of Sir Robert Peel, and failed. Lord Aberdeen, the leader of the Peelites, declined in the present condition of the country as to the hatred expressed against papal aggression, to form an administration. Lord Stanley then tried his hand, but was not successful. Thus, after some little delay, and much feverish expectancy on the part of the Tadpoles and the Tapers, there was no other course to be adopted than for the late cabinet again to take office. After an interregnum of eleven days Her Majesty, having had a consultation with the Duke of Wellington, commanded Lord John Russell and his colleagues to resume their respective posts. This order was publicly announced March 3, 1851. It was evident to all that the re-instated cabinet was a makeshift, which would soon go the way of all governments holding their power on sufferance. The opening of the Great Exhibition—that “ unwieldy, ill- devised, unwholesome castle of glass,” as Colonel Sibthorp called it—“ up-springing from the verdant sod ” in Hyde Park, for a time diverted the attention of the critical public from the blunders of the Ministry; but soon Lord John Russell and his col¬ leagues, by their promises unfulfilled, their inconsistencies, and their incapacity to interpret the wishes of the nation, brought AND HIS TIMES. 123 themselves into stin iurther discredit. The budget of Sir Charles Wood caused uni¬ versal dissatisfaction; and as Mr. Disraeli pointed out, the boasted surplus had been cut down to half of its original estimate, owing to certain claims made upon the government by the East India Company. In addition to this disappointment, the measures introduced for the relief of the agricultural interest had been withdrawn. The continuation of the income tax was also unpopular. When it had first been introduced the free traders were most hostile to the measure; it had been stigmatized as “ a fungus growing from the tree of mono¬ poly,” and as “the most unequal, most unjust, and most vexatious ” of imposts. Yet the party which condemned it when in opposi¬ tion now retained it when in power. Indeed, as Mr. Disraeli said, they could not do without it, for that tax was “ the foundation of the new commercial system,” the “ only security for the continuance of free trade.” But what dealt the final blow to the tottering cabinet was what the French called Vaffaire, Palmerston. The foreign secretary was undoubtedly the ablest man in the government; his memorable speech on the Don Pacifico debate proved that he had a command of language, and a ready mastery of details, with which until then he had not been credited. A man of great quickness in the despatch of business, somewhat impulsive and hasty in his expressions, both in his official correspondence and conversation, and of much independence of character, it was his custom as foreign secretary to take more upon himself than properly appertained to his post. According to the strict rules of official etiquette it was the duty of the minister who presided over the Foreign Office to transmit all important despatches to the chief of the cabinet for perusal, which were afterwards laid before the sovereign for the royal approval. Lord Palmerston, however, preferred to ignore this custom; he not only forwarded import¬ ant state papers to the different embassies without first showing them to the prime minister, but he went so far as to transmit them without deigning to consult the opinion of his sovereign. This culpable independence of conduct had on more than one occasion compromised the Crown, with¬ out the Crown having been in the least aware of what the course was that had been pursued. The prince consort, who was deeply interested in foreign affairs, and upon whose sound judgment, accurate prescience, and carefully considered conclusions, the queen naturally much relied, was offended at the easy manner in which the foreign secretary replied to despatches without due consideration, and without consulting either Her Majesty or his colleagues in the cabinet. He brought the matter before the Duke of Wellington, who occupied very much the same position to the court as the family solicitor does to an ordinary household, and asked him whether, when he was premier, he had not been in the habit of interfering in the Foreign Office. The duke answered most emphatically, “There never went a paper which I had not brought to me first; but Palmerston could at no time be trusted, as he was always anxious to do things by himself.” It was now considered necessary to read our hasty and independent foreign secretary a lesson which would bring him to his bearings, and restrain his freedom of action in the future. Lord John Bussell, who it appears had more than once complained of the license of his subordinate in this matter—Lord John, who took newspapers into his confi¬ dence before extending it to his colleagues— was summoned to the Isle of Wight, and a grave consultation held. The deliberation resulted in the following severe memor¬ andum being drawn up and forwarded to Lord Palmerston:— “ With reference to the conversation about Lord Palmerston which the queen had with Lord J ohn Bussell the other day, and Lord Palmerston’s dis¬ avowal that he ever intended any disrespect to her by the various neglects of which she has had so long and so often to complain, she thinks it right, 124 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD in order to prevent any mistake for the future, to explain what it is she expects from the foreign secretary. “ She requires: “First, That he distinctly state what he proposes to do in a given case, in order that the queen may know as distinctly to what she has given her royal sanction. “ Second, Having once given her sanction to a measure, that it be not arbitrarily altered or modi¬ fied by the minister; such an act she must consider as failure in sincerity towards the Crown,, and justly to be visited by the exercise of her consti¬ tutional right of dismissing that minister. She expects to be kept informed of what passes between him and the foreign ministers, before important decisions are taken based upon that intercourse; to receive the foreign despatches in good time, and to have the drafts for her approval sent to her in sufficient time to make herself acquainted with their contents before they must be sent off. The queen thinks it best that Lord John Russell should show this letter to Lord Palmerston. “ Osborne, August 12, 1850.” The foreign secretary received this rebuke with perfect temper, and behaved in the matter like the high-minded gentleman he really was. He replied in his usual pleasant manner to his chief. He had taken, he said, a copy of the memorandum and would not fail to attend to the directions which it contained; he explained why he had not in the past sent despatches to the queen, and promised to give no further cause for complaint in the future; then he good-humouredly added that if it were necessary for him to have an additional clerk or two to do any extra work, the Treasury, perhaps, would not grudge the ex¬ pense. We shall learn afterwards the reason why he acted on this occasion with this well-bred restraint. For a time the foreign secretary con¬ formed to the instructions he had received, and behaved with the caution and dis¬ cretion which generally follow a severe reproof. But independence of action was too strongly woven in the texture of his mind for him to remain long controlled and repressed. The English people had sympathized strongly with Hungary in her revolt against Austria; and when Louis I Kossuth, who had been dictator of Hungary during the greater part of the insurrection, reached our shores he was the lion of the hour, and received quite an ovation wher¬ ever he showed himself. Lord Palmerston keenly sympathized with the Hungarians, and had used his influence to prevent the surrender of Kossuth to Austria. Under the prevailing excitement it struck certain inhabitants of the Tower Hamlets, Finsbury, and Islington that the present moment would be an excellent opportunity to show their appreciation of the conduct of Lord Palmerston in the matter. Accordingly addresses were drawn up, in which the foreign secretary was thanked for what he had done towards securing the safety and liberation of the “ illustrious patriot and exile; ” whilst the Emperors of Austria and Russia were stigmatized as “odious and detestable assassins ” and “ merciless tyrants and despots ’’—terms, whether true or not, scarcely to be used without reproof before an English foreign secretary con¬ cerning sovereigns with whom England was at peace. Lord Palmerston, however, took no notice of these offensive epithets in the addresses handed to him, beyond saying that “he could not be expected to concur in some of the expressions,” and declared himself “ extremely flattered and highly gratified ” at the compliment paid him by the enlightened population of the Tower Hamlets, Finsbury, and Islington. The whole proceeding was, however, viewed with extreme displeasure by the queen and the prince consort. “ It is no question with the queen,” wrote Her Majesty to the prime minister, “whether she pleases the Emperor of Austria or not, but whether she gives him a just ground of complaint. And if she does so, she can never believe that this will add to her popularity with her own people.” At the express wish of the queen the conduct of Lord Palmerston was brought before a cabinet council. Uo formal resolution as to the want of caution displayed by the foreign secretary on this occasion was adopted; but Lord John Russell AND HIS TIMES. 125 wrote to the queen expressing a hope that the deliberation of the council would have its effect upon Lord Palmerston, and that he himself had specially urged upon his colleague the necessity of guarded conduct in the present very critical condition of Europe. And now this enfant terrible of the cabinet was to show how he interpreted the words “ guarded conduct.” The very day he had received this piece of advice, the news of the coup d’etat in Paris reached London. The queen, most anxious that nothing should be said by Lord Normanby, our representative at Paris, to commit England to any expression of approval of what had been done, sent full instructions to Lord John Russell to that effect. Thus directed, Lord Palmerston wrote officially to Lord Normanby, informing him that he was to make no change in his diplomatic relations with the French government. To this de¬ spatch our ambassador returned a reply, which created an immense sensation through¬ out the kingdom. He wrote that having called on M. Turgot, the French minister for foreign affairs, to communicate the instruc¬ tions he had received from Her Majesty’s government, he was informed by that gentleman that Count Walewski, the French ambassador in London, had written to Paris that Lord Palmerston had expressed in conversation his entire approval of the course Louis Napoleon had pursued! Was such indiscretion possible ? The queen at once wrote to Lord John Russell:— “ The queen sends the enclosed despatch from Lord Normanby to Lord John Russell, from which it appears that the French government pretend to have received the entire approval of the late coup d'etat by the British government, as con¬ veyed by Lord Palmerston to Count Walewski. The queen cannot believe in the truth of the assertion, as such an approval given by Lord Palmerston would have been in complete contra¬ diction to the line of strict neutrality and passive¬ ness which the queen had expressed her desire to see followed with regard to the late convulsions at Paris, and which was approved by the cabinet, as stated in Lord John Russell’s letter of the 6th inst. Docs Lord John know anything about the alleged approval, which, if true, would again expose the honesty and dignity of the queen’s government in the eyes of the world ? “ Osborne, December 13, 1851.” Lord Palmerston was called upon for an explanation. He delayed furnishing any statement as to his conduct for some days; but when the document had been drawn up, it fully showed that, in direct defiance of the queen’s commands, and without any consultation with his colleagues, he had taken upon himself to thoroughly approve of the steps the prince-president had taken. Such gross insubordination and compromis¬ ing activity could not be passed over. Lord Palmerston was requested by his chief to resign the seals of the Foreign Office, and Lord Granville was sworn in as his successor. Parliament met February 3, 1852. The Palmerston case was, of course, uppermost in men’s minds, and the House of Commons was eager to listen to ministerial explana¬ tions. In the debate on the address the prime minister took the first opportunity of stating the facts of the case. He nar¬ rated fully the history of the differences which had long existed between Lord Palmerston and his colleagues; he stated the rebuffs the foreign secretary had brought upon himself from the court; and much to the astonishment of the House, he for the first time informed it of the severe memorandum drawn up by the queen. Lord Palmerston strongly objected to this document having been made public; and in his recent biography he gives his reasons why he received the memorandum so submissively, at the same time com¬ plaining of the conduct of Lord John Russell. “I said to the Duke [of Bedford],” he writes to Lord Lansdowne, “ that it was very unhandsome by me, and very wrong by the queen, for him, John Russell, to have read in the House of Commons the queen’s angry memorandum of August, 1850, hinting at dismissal. In regard to the queen, he was thus dragging her into the discussion, and making her a party to a 12G THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD question which constitutionally ought to be, and before parliament could only be, a question between me and the responsible adviser of the Crown; and I said that this mention of the queen as a party to the transaction had given rise to newspaper remarks much to be regretted, and which the prime minister ought not to have given an occasion for. I said that, as regards myself, the impression created by his read¬ ing that memorandum was, that I had submitted to an affront which I ought not to have borne; and several of my friends told me, after the discussion, that they wondered I had not sent in my resignation on receiving that paper from the queen through John Russell. My answer to those friends, I said, had been that the paper was written in anger by a lady as well as by a sovereign, and that the difference between a lady and a man could not be forgotten even in the case of the occupant of a throne; but I said that, in the first place, I had no reason to suppose that this memorandum would ever be seen by, or be known to anybody but the queen, John Russell, and myself; that, secondly, my position at that moment, namely, in August, 1850, was peculiar. I had lately been the object of violent political attack, and had gained a great and signal victory in the House of Commons and in public opinion: to have resigned then would have been to have given the fruits of victory to adversaries whom I had defeated, and to have abandoned my political supporters at the very moment when by their means I had triumphed. But, beyond all that, I had represented to my friends, by pursuing the course which they thought I ought to have followed, I should have been bringing for decision at the bar of public opinion a personal quarrel between myself and my sovereign—a step which no subject ought to take, if he can possibly avoid it; for the result of such a course must be either fatal to him or injurious to the country. If he should prove to be in the wrong, he would be irretrievably condemned; if the sovereign should be proved to be in the wrong, the monarchy would suffer/’ In the debate that ensued, Mr. Disraeli was not silent. The queen’s speech had been read, and it was on the occasion of moving an address in answer to the communication from the throne that the leader of the Opposition subjected the cabinet to his criticism. He dealt first with the dismissal of Lord Pal¬ merston, and then examined the other matters contained in the speech. He com¬ plained that the explanation of the prime minister as to the dismissal of his colleague was not satisfactory; it appeared to him “ a Downing Street eclogue,” and the reasons given were insufficient to account “ for cir- cumstances so remarkable, and a catastrophe so sudden.” The political system repre¬ sented by Lord Palmerston Mr. Disraeli had always felt it his duty to oppose, though he had ever regarded the late foreign secre¬ tary as a faithful British minister, believing that the great object of his policy was to maintain and vindicate the honour and the interests of England. But he had never severed the noble lord from the policy of the cabinet; and if that policy were to be continued, as he understood from the queen’s speech, he would rather have it administered by the late foreign secretary, whom they all recognized to be able, than by any other person he saw upon the Treasury Bench. The past errors were not personal to Lord Palmerston; they must be attributed to the entire cabinet, and the noble lord should not be treated as the scapegoat. Mr. Disraeli also complained of the manner in which the prime minister had introduced the name of the sovereign into his speech. “ I am bound to say,” said he, and here for the first time in the House of Commons we listen to him expressing his views as to the majesty of the Crown, that it should be a real power in the state, and not, as the Whigs wished to make it, merely an ornament. “ I am bound to say, that I cannot at this moment recall any analogous occasion in which the name AND HIS TIMES. 127 cf the sovereign was so frequently and peculiarly used. Whatever was done at the command of the sovereign was at least done on the responsibility of the noble lord; and though it may be expedient that minutes should be read to this House, which we are informed were drawn up by a personage whose name is rarely intro¬ duced in our debates, I must express my astonishment at the narrative of midnight despatches which were the cause, as I understand—though I may have misap¬ prehended the noble lord—of conduct on his part of a very urgent, not to say a precipitate nature. Now, I suppose, that for everything which has been done the noble lord, the first minister, is responsible, and the noble lord,. the first minister, is not a man to shrink from his responsibility: I am at a loss, therefore, to comprehend how the noble lord will account for that introduction of Her Majesty’s name—that frequent and unnecessary introduction— which has taken place in the debate to¬ night. As I am one of those who never could have voted for that famous motion in this House, that ‘ the power of the Crown had increased, was increasing, and ought to be diminished; ’ as, in fact, I should be willing to hail as a fact, the con¬ verse of that proposition; and as I think it one of the great misfortunes of our time, and one most injurious to public liberty, that the power of the Crown has diminished, I am not one likely to look with an unnecessary jealousy on the assertion of the preroga¬ tive of the Crown. But the noble lord is the eminent representative of a political party that has adopted opinions of a very different character. The noble lord is a member of the party which introduced, as I think, to our disgrace, that resolution upon the journal of the House ;* and cer- * It was during the administration of Lord North that the personal influence of the sovereign attained its highest pitch. According to Fox, the king was “ his own unadvised minister.” At length, in 1780, Mr. Dunning proposed and carried, in the House of Commons, his notorious resolution, affirming “that the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished.” Two years afterwards, Lord North, who had been in office from 1770 to 1782, was compelled to resign. tainly, therefore, I am astonished that the noble lord, on an occasion like the present, should have come forward, and, as it seems to me, have shifted from himself a respon¬ sibility which, under the circumstances, he should have been the first to adopt.” Mr. Disraeli then proceeded to criticise the various clauses in the speech from the throne. He did not consider the moment favourable, as the prime minister had stated, for the re-opening of the question of parliamentary reform; but he would consider the proposition of the noble lord when it came before them entirely without prejudice. He complained of the manner in which our colonies had been adminis¬ tered, and which had resulted in another disgracefully-conducted Kaffir war. Then he alluded to the time that had been wasted in the passing of the wretched Ecclesiastical Titles Bill. Had it vindicated the outrage which was offered to their sovereign and her kingdom ? Had it punished the “ insolent aggression ? ” Had it baffled that great European conspiracy against the realm of England and the Protestant faith ? Why, they all knew that it had been treated with a contumely which could not be expressed, and with a derision which it certainly merited ! The great cardinal, who had been ordered to quit England, was still within the realm; “and I find him advertised in the newspapers in the exercise of his official duties as the lord cardinal arch¬ bishop of Westminster.” Why was there no mention of this flagrant violation of the law in the queen’s' speech ? Another grave omission he could not pass over. Why was there no expression of sympathy with the difficulties of the cultivators of the soil ? All their difficulties had been occasioned by legislation, and therefore they were bound to consider whether those difficulties could not also be remedied by legislation. “ Have,” he said, “ as free an exchange of commodities as you please, but take care first that you place the British producer upon terms of equality with those with whom he has to compete; take care that 128 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELI) your legislation does not oppress him with burdens which he alone hears, and beneath the weight of which he must inevitably sink.” He then quoted the opinions of Mr. M'Culloch that the cultivator of the soil was subjected to unjust taxation which no other class of the community shared, and to injurious restrictions on his industry; and since it was impossible to adjust that taxation with absolute equality or to terminate those restrictions with a due consideration to the revenue, the just and scientific means by which a fair adjustment could he arrived at were by countervailing duties; hut, added the political economist, just as these duties would he, the oppor¬ tunity for applying them had been lost, and the cultivators of the soil, in the present temper of the country, must submit to the injustice which was oppressing them.* “That,” cried Mr. Disraeli, “is the political morality of a political economist. If the data of Mr. M‘Culloch he correct, I say the consequence that he draws from them is an immoral consequence; and I say that the legislation that is founded upon them is an immoral legislation. If it be the conviction of parliament that any class of producers is subject to unjust taxation, and is subject to it that another class of the community may be benefited by that taxa¬ tion, they act immorally in upholding that system. It is confiscation in another guise; it is robbery under the formulae of political economy. Remember what this class is which for the last three or four years has been so severely suffering, and is now so severely suffering. Who are these farmers whom gentlemen opposite seem to hold so light? Why, they are the largest employers Of labour in the United Kingdom The farmers of the United Kingdom are the most numerous and the most important portion of the middle class. I know there may be some of my friends who, remem¬ bering the insolence with which they have been treated by a section of the middle * A Treatise on Taxation and the Funding System, by J. R. M'Culloch, pp. 195-202, Longman’s, 1852. class flushed with unexpected success, may naturally not be indisposed to triumph at the present altered position of the middle class throughout Europe, . . . that after all was only a limited section of the middle-class. The power and prosperity of the middle class are inseparable from the greatness of England [Mr. Disraeli ob¬ jected to the middle classes only when they inspired and controlled a government, not when they formed a part of it]; and the most numerous portion of it is peculiarly represented on this side of the House. For my part I owe my seat to the middle class; the farmers of England sent me here, and therefore I protest against unequal laws which impair their fortunes.” It was the duty of the government to remedy such evils. If the agricultural interest could not be relieved from those injurious restrictions and those unjust taxes, at least they should have that countervailing compensation which was their due on a fair considera¬ tion of the subject. He saw around him no very felicitous results of the new system. He saw the cultivators of the soil growing poorer and poorer. He saw a list of bankrupt merchants, and secret societies of amalgamated mechanics. He saw classes arrayed against each other. No political system, he concluded, could be sound which had resulted in circumstances so menacing and so ruinous. The dismissal of Lord Palmerston was looked upon not only as a great blow to the Liberal cause throughout Europe, but as the collapse of a career from w T hich great things had been expected. The defence of the foreign secretary, very different from his brilliant speech on the Don Pacifico debate, was weak, and consequently made but a poor impression upon the House; it was now fully known that the late minister was disliked by the court; he had played his part badly in the theatre of diplomacy, the curtain had descended amid disapproval, and he was not likely to have another engagement. “There was a Palmerston,” said Mr. Disraeli in his peculiar tone to AND HIS TIMES. 129 a friend whom he met at the Eussian embassy. The ex-minister, however, was not depressed at the prospect of his future. He took his punishment very quietly; he would bide his time until an oppor¬ tunity would offer itself, and then, he said, he would give “ Johnny Eussell tit-for-tat.” “ I must say,” writes Lord Dalling in his chatty biography of Lord Palmerston, “ that 1 never admired him so much as at this crisis. He evidently thought he had been ill-treated ; but I never heard him make an unfair and irritable remark, nor did he seem in any wise stunned by the blow he had received, or dismayed by the isolated position in which he stood. I should say that he seemed to consider that he had a quarrel put upon him, which it was his wisest course to close by receiving the fire of his adversary and not returning it. He could not, in fact, have gained a victory against the premier on the ground which Lord John Eussell had chosen for the combat, which would not have been more permanently disadvantageous to him than a defeat. The faults of which he had been accused did not touch his own honour, nor that of his country. Let them be admitted, and there was an end of the matter. By and by an occasion would probably arise in which he might choose an advantageous occasion for giving battle, and he was willing to wait calmly for that occasion.” His patience was not put to a severe test. Before, however, he was to taste the sweets of revenge the often agitated question of parliamentary reform was again to come before the House. In the speech from the throne Her Majesty had said, “ It appears to me that this is a fitting time for calmly considering whether it may not be advisable to make such amendments in the Act of the last reign relating to the representation of the Commons in parliament, as may be deemed calculated to carry into more com¬ plete effect the principles upon which that law is founded.” Accordingly, early in the session, February 9, 1852, Lord John Bussell rose to move for leave to bring in von i. “ a bill to extend the right of voting for members of parliament, and to amend the laws relating to the representation of the people.” Briefly, the result of his measure was to reduce the franchise in counties to twenty pounds rated value, and. in boroughs to five pounds rated value; to extend the franchise to all persons, whether in counties or boroughs, who paid direct taxes to the amount of forty shillings a year; and to group with neighbouring towns all boroughs with less than 500 electors. He estimated such boroughs to be sixty-seven in number. Various mem¬ bers on both sides of the House took part in the debate, and it was somewhat late before Mr. Disraeli rose to express his opinion upon the provisions of the new measure. After a few remarks as to the incon¬ venience of the bill not being ready to be placed in the hands of members, and as to the advisability of the House to have full time to consider the scheme before the second reading came on, he briefly commented upon the novelties proposed by Lord John Eussell. He would reserve further criticism, he said, for another occasion, when the subject was fairly before the House. He, however, con¬ gratulated parliamentary reformers on the content with which they had accepted the repast provided for them; the voracity of their appetites seemed to him satisfied with short commons. His impression, in listening to the statement of the noble lord, had been, that there was nothing in it which had any tendency to disturb, he would not say the balance between the two great interests of the country, but he would rather say the adjustment made by the Eeform Bill in 1832. He did not use the word balance, because he did not think any such balance existed. He thought the adjustment of 1832 gave a preponderance to the towns and the commercial classes. To that adjustment they bowed. So far as he could discover from the oral statement of the minister, he did not think there was 17 130 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELL anything in that new plan which had a serious tendency to disturb it; and there¬ fore, on that ground, as no change would probably be in their favour, he felt con¬ siderably relieved. At the same time, he must tell the hon. member for Manchester (Mr. Bright) that he could not at all accept his dogma, that the present adjustment was unfair because a borough like Thetford returned two members, and a city like Manchester returned no greater number.* Throughout the whole of the arguments he had heard on that subject from gentlemen opposite, both here and as reported in other places, a great fallacy was observable, and pervaded all that they brought forward on the subject, as he should be prepared to show at the right time and on the fitting occasion. The hon. gentleman had referred to the cases of Thetford and Manchester, and it was only because he had done so that he entered upon the subject at all now. The inference, founded on the two tests of population and property, that because a borough like Thetford returned two mem¬ bers, therefore Manchester should return the number of members proportionate to its population and property, was altogether erroneous. The inference, indeed, was the other way. It was that such places as Thetford should not return two members, not that Manchester should return more. A paper had just been put into his hands, which had some reference to that part of the subject. It related to North Cheshire. The total population of the county was * In the course of his speech Mr. Bright made the follow¬ ing remarks:—“The noble lord did not explain, when he said he should not disfranchise these boroughs, whether they were to retain one member or two. He hoped it was deter¬ mined that they should only have one. Take the cases of Thetford and Harwich. These were two boroughs in which the noble lord might possibly somewhere or other, by taking in neighbouring villages, raise a constituency of 300 or 400 to 1000 ; but he asked the noble lord, was it consistent even with the opinions he had expressed to-night, much less with the opinions he expressed when introducing his first Reform Bill, to maintain that Harwich—notorious Harwich—and Thetford—notorious Thetford—should each have two mem¬ bers, whilst each of the boroughs of the metropolis, one of them having 35,000 electors, should have only two? . . . In the very next session of parliament the question of the transference of some of the members of some of the small boroughs to larger constituencies, or to new constituencies, would be mooted in that House.” 217,000 There were two considerable manufacturing towns, and only two, in that great division—Macclesfield, with a popula¬ tion of 33,000, and the too-celebrated Stock- port, with a population of upwards of 50,000; together 83,000, which, deducted from the whole population of the northern division of Cheshire, left 134,000. Now, those two towns returned four members, though the county population, which amounted to 130,000, returned only two! Even admitting the tests laid down by the hon. member to be just, which he did not, it could never be inferred from it that Manchester should have eight, ten, or four¬ teen members, the burden always of the hon. gentleman’s argument on that point— but only that Thetford should not have two members. With regard to the second condition, that there should be no attempt to establish the undue preponderance of any particular party, he must reserve his opinion till they had the details before them. When he saw how the government proposed to deal with sixty or seventy boroughs; when he saw what those boroughs were, and how they were to be managed under the new arrangement—then he should better know how to form an opinion. But he should assume now that in 1852, after the experi¬ ence on these subjects which the House had acquired, any of those not very credit¬ able manoeuvres as to the settlement of boundaries which distinguished the first Reform Bill, would not very easily occur. He could not believe that any party in the House, or out of it, would support a minister in any arrangement of the new boroughs, the object of which was to support his own party in parliament: he had that con¬ fidence in the increased knowledge both of the House of Commons and the country on those subjects, as to feel that such manoeuvres could not be repeated. He confessed, so far as he could form an opinion, that his impression was that the bill was one of very questionable propriety. The noble lord had on several occasions AND HIS TIMES. 131 dilated on the wisdom of settling great questions in moments of comparative calm and tranquillity. He agreed with him. He thought it was wise in a statesman if he had a subject of great importance to grapple with, a subject calculated to arouse the passions and affect the interests of great masses of the people, that he should attempt it in moments of tranquillity; but he was bound to deal with it so that the settlement might be—he would not say final, for that was not an epithet suitable to human legis¬ lation—but permanent. So far as he could now form an opinion, he could not say that he thought the measure brought forward by the noble lord in that sense a very statesmanlike measure. What was the great object of the £5 franchise ? That they should admit the working classes to the exercise of the suffrage. He had always been the advocate of an industrial suffrage; but he was not satisfied that that £5 franchise would act in that way. He was not by any means clear that there was no measure better fitted for that purpose, no arrange¬ ment more apposite and more calculated to effect that end, than merely lowering the amount on which the suffrage depended. Still he was not prepared to interpose any obstruction to the bill of the noble lord. He had much hesitation as to the propriety of introducing any measure at all on the present occasion. He had his doubts, too, whether the measure intro¬ duced was of that deep and comprehensive character required. He thought the noble lord ought to bear in mind that it was of the utmost importance that a question of that kind should be maturely considered before it was decided on; that all measures for the adjustment of the franchise should be of a permanent character. He thought it would be just as well for hon. gentlemen on both sides of the House that the measure, then introduced by the minister of the crown and supported by them, should be one that would be likely to last. The hon. gentlemen opposite had now had some experience in that matter. They received with enthusiasm the bill of 1832 ; they denounced everybody who opposed it, and insisted that it would in every respect answer their purpose; they said nothing less would satisfy them, and nothing more would they accept; yet they had been mistaken. He thought they ought to con¬ sider—he would not say with suspicion, but without passion—the proposition of the minister on that occasion. It should be remembered, too, that they had many other important subjects to discuss during the present session; and he warned them not to be diverted in their attention from other great reforms by parliamentary re¬ form. The great body of the nation would not be satisfied if the entire time of the session was occupied with discussions on parliamentary reform. The people out of doors wished the whole question of colonial government to be considered—the people out of doors wished to have the principles of taxation properly established—the people out of doors were anxious to know whether there would be any law reform ’or not- These were reasons why they should not approach the subject thrown before them with any degree of passion; that they should try to ascertain whether the time really needed such a change as that then pro¬ posed; whether that change was required by the nation; and whether the proposition of the government was calculated to satisfy it. An event not unexpected, but which, when it came, took the political world by surprise, was, however, to interfere wfith the progress of this the latest development in reform. The opportunity was about to present itself for Lord Palmerston to take his revenge. For some time past a feeling of uneasiness had prevailed as to the condition of Eng¬ land in case, owing to the then turbulent condition of Europe, a war should break out. “I am perfectly willing to believe,” said Mr. Disraeli in the debate on the ad¬ dress, “ that no danger is at hand, and that the world will continue to be governed by the principles of peace, though we are going to increase our armaments and call out our 132 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD militia; but no one can deny that, not only in the country, but throughout Europe, there is a feeling of apprehension.” France was a disturbing element. We did not know what would be the next move of the prince- president whose policy was now, in order to render his position more sure, to flatter the vanity and pander to the ambition of his new subjects. It was both said and sung that the devil only knew what he meant. He was our ally, but it was the general impression that he would throw the entente corclicile to the winds if it would in any way benefit his purpose. We were advised to believe in the maxim Fidarsi e bene, ma non fidctrsi e meglio. There was the usual scare of a foreign invasion, and the timorous, and indeed those who were not timorous, bade us look to our national defences, fortify our dockyards, keep our fleet ready to guard the coast, and our regiments at full strength, and have a strong mass of reserves in existence to be drawn upon when necessary. The volunteer system was pro¬ posed, and was eagerly embraced by the nation; before the year had closed, every town had its corps of trained civilians ready to bear arms, and, what was more to the point, possessing the knowledge of how to use them. So military and patriotic were the youth of the country that there was almost a feeling of disappointment when all prospect of an invasion seemed abandoned. As one of the consequences of this warlike spirit, and of the dangers with which it was thought we were menaced, the govern¬ ment considered it prudent to inquire into the state of the militia. When we look upon our militia at the present day—the regiments well officered, the men smart and well drilled, the discipline as severe and exact as in the regular service—and com¬ pare it with the militia of “the good old days,” when the officers, mostly civilians who had received no military instruction whatever, regarded the whole thing as the farce it really was, and only as an excuse for a month of amusement and pleasant festi¬ vities, whilst the men, drawn from the very scum of the country, were a nuisance and the disgrace of every town in which they took up their quarters, the contrast is indeed striking. A Kaffir war, with its usual complement of military blunders and commissariat shortcomings, was then on our hands; and it became therefore very advisable to report upon the condition of our reserves in case of emergencies. Accordingly Lord John Russell introduced a Militia Bill (February 20, 1852), which, among other changes, recommended the substitution of a local militia for the regular force. Mr. Disraeli took part in the debate that followed, but his remarks were very brief. The honours of the evening fell to Lord Palmerston, who, amid the cheers of the House, mercilessly criticised the bill. He wished to know whether the measure was to be founded on “ the militia ” or upon “ a local militia.” If it were to be founded on a local militia it would be of no use, as a local militia was not liable to be called out except in cases of actual invasion or of an enemy being in force off our coasts. Therefore if they were to have a militia it must be a regular militia, liable to be called out and to serve in any part of the United King¬ dom when necessary. He proposed to substitute the word “ regular ” for the word “local,” thus of course altering the whole character of the bill. The House was in favour of the substitution, and after a division the government found itself in a minority of eleven votes. Thereupon Lord John Russell resigned. “I have had my tit for tat with John Russell,” writes Lord Palmerston to his brother, “and I turned him out on Friday last.” It has been said that .the real reason for the resignation of the cabinet was a fear of being defeated on a vote of censure as to the conduct of the Kaffir war, which was on the eve of being moved. “ As it is,” writes Lord Palmerston, “ the late govern¬ ment have gone out on a question, which they have treated as a motion, merely asserting that they had lost the confidence AND HIS TIMES. 133 of tlie House; whereas, if they had gone out on a defeat upon the motion about the Cape, they would have carried with them the direct censure of the House of Commons.” Our then only comic paper took the matter up, and wrote a ballad upon it. Lord John is made thus to lament:— “It was upon a Friday night My motion I brought on ; When ’twixt leave for the bill and me, Up started Palmerston! “ Straight the whole house broke out in cheers, In spite of his disgrace ; He snubbed our bill, and with a sneer Proposed his in its place. “ And when my turn to answer came, The House was cold as ice; ‘ The game is done—I’ve won ! I’ve won ! ’ Quoth he—and in a trice “ Out go the whips ; M.P.’s rush out, With Hay ter and Lord Mark ; And from their whispers soon I see . That things are looking dark. “ And while the votes are adding up, We wait; for ’twixt the lip and cup Full often comes a slip ; Taper look’d blank and sick with fright, And Tadpole’s face in the gas gleam’d white ; From his brow the dew did drip. In a minority we are, In spite of Hayter’s and Lord Mar¬ cus’ energetic whip ! “ One after one, their places gone, With stifled groan and sigh ; Each turn’d his face with a ghastly pang, And reproach’d me with his eye. “ From treasury bench condemned to fly, Their salaries forego; Each seem’d to say as he pass’d me by, ‘ It’s all your fault, you know.’ ” On the resignation of Lord John Paissell, the Earl of Derby was commanded to form an administration. “ Tt was on Saturday,” laid the incoming prime minister to his brother peers in the upper House, “ that I received the, to me, surprising intelligence of the result of the division in the House of Commons, and of the consequent resig¬ nation of Her Majesty’s ministers. On the evening of that day I had the honour of receiving from Her Majesty a command to wait on her at the palace at half-past two o’clock on the following day. My lords, I had then to consider not what course it was my interest, but what course it was my public duty, to pursue. I had to weigh deliberately and candidly on the one side all the overwhelming difficulties of the situation in which I was placed—all the awful responsibility of the task which X felt I might be called upon to perform ; I had to weigh, on the other side, what appeared to me the still more awful respon¬ sibility, if it could be imputed to me that from personal feelings and an unwillingness to take on myself either labour or responsi¬ bility, I had left by my act the queen and the country in the present times without an administration, however unworthy it might be. The noble lord opposite [Lord Aberdeen] will excuse me for saying that I saw little prospect of any other administration being speedily formed; and further, that I saw little prospect of advantage from the resig¬ nation of the late ministry being speedily followed by their resumption of the reins of government; and I therefore felt that however unequal to the task, however great the difficulties that might stand in the way —difficulties arising from my own position, and from those who agreeing with me in opinion, are still unable to command a majority in the other House of Parliament— still great as all these difficulties were, deliberately weighing and not overlooking them, I felt it my first duty to my sovereign and my country to determine that at this time the country should not be without an administration; and it was not, my lords, without a deep consciousness of the respon¬ sibility I was incurring, nor without a thorough conviction of my own inability to perform adequately the duties I was about to undertake, that I at once intimated to Her most Gracious Majesty, on receiving her commands to that effect, my readiness to attempt the task of the formation of a Ministry.” Thus passed into the cold shade of oppo¬ sition the government of Lord John Pussell. CHAPTEB VII. OFFICE. With tlie exception of its chief and his lieutenant, the cabinet formed by Lord Derby was far from a strong one. It was composed of peers almost unknown twenty miles outside their park gates, and country gentlemen, excellent chairmen of quarter- sessions, but who had never prominently come before the public or had made them¬ selves a name in the House of Commons. It was essentially an administration of untried men. Shortly after the new premier had prepared his list of those to serve under him, the Duke of Wellington, anxious to learn who were to constitute the Tory administration, took the first opportunity, when Lord Derby entered the House of Lords, to ask the names of those who had agreed to hold office. As the prime minister went through the catalogue, the duke, who had of late years become rather deaf and who had never heard before of several of the newly-created ministers, kept up throughout the whole conversation a running query of “ who ? who ? ” in the loud tones of a deaf person. The peers opposite, much amused at this incessant interrogation and also at the perplexed air of his Grace as name after name of men he had never met, and of whose political existence he had until then been in total ignorance, was bawled into his ears, at once christened the new cabinet the “ who ? who ? ministry.” The nickname was quickly taken up by club idlers and the editors of newspapers, and the Derby administration during the first weeks of its career was never designated by any other title than that conferred on it by Whig wit. Lord Derby had for many years been one of the brilliant stars in the firmament of the political world. His powers as a par¬ liamentary debater were unrivalled, and as Mr. Stanley, there had been few men in the House of Commons who more instinctively detected the flaws in an argument, and were more effective when put up to crush an opponent or lay bare the faults of a measure. The fire of his eloquence, and the dashing onslaughts he was in the habit of making upon the enemy, had gained him the title of the “Bupert of debate.” He was a brilliant classic, well read without any affectation of erudition; and when he chose to conquer his carelessness and indo¬ lence of temperament, he possessed a grasp over the details of business such as few of the Manchester school could surpass. Conscious of his rank, proud of himself, and naturally of a somewhat haughty disposition, he was not given to pay much attention to the opinions of those with whom he acted, and who were inferior to him in station. They might follow him or they might desert him (he did not care very much which alternative they accepted), but they should not lead him. He held his own views, and he would carry them out; he often arrived at his conclusions after but a hasty and superficial inspection, and not infrequently found them untenable. Mr. Disraeli had said that his lordship had been rightly named the Prince Bupert of debate, since, however brilliant his attack, he generally found on his return that his camp had fallen into the hands of the enemy. Before being placed at the head of a cabinet. Lord Derby had seen some ser¬ vice in the state. During the early part of his career he had been an advocate of the principles of reform, and under the administration of Lord Grey had held office first as chief secretary for Ireland, TflE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. 135 and afterwards as secretary of state for the colonies. When the Reform Bill was brought forward he defended its provisions with great warmth and eloquence, and also carried the bill for national education in Ireland. He gave his vote in favour of the emancipation of the West India slaves, and indeed was one of the principal agents to whom the success of the measure was due. But now it was that he severed him¬ self from the Liberal party. The proposal to reduce still further the Irish Church establishment met with his strongest dis¬ approval, and he resigned his seat in the cabinet. In the administration of Sir Robert Peel he held the seals again as colonial minister; but on the “ apostacy ” of that minister he threw in his fortunes with the Protectionists, and became the leader of the Conservative party. Impatient of control, and irritable under instruction, he yet permitted his able lieutenant to assume an authority over him which no one before had ever exercised. In the ministry of which Lord Derby was the chief, there were a few names which subsequently attained if not to fame at least to respectable distinction. Lord Malmesbury was foreign secretary; Sir John Pakington was the colonial secretary; Mr. Walpole was at the Home Office; Major Beresford was at the War Office; Mr. Herries, who had been chancellor of the exchequer under Lord Goderich, and who had afterwards been secretary-at-war, presided over the Board of Control; Mr. Henley, then almost unknown, but who afterwards developed into the best repre¬ sentative of the landed interest the country has possessed since the days of Sir William Wyndham, was president of the Board of Trade; Lord John Manners was first commis¬ sioner of works; Lord St. Leonards, a sound lawyer but no politician, was lord chancellor; the attorney-general was Sir Frederick Thesiger, afterwards the first Lord Chelms¬ ford; the solicitor-general was Sir Fitzroy Kelly. Last but far from least, since he was the ruling spirit of the cabinet, Mr. Disraeli was appointed to the post of chancellor of the exchequer; and 'the charming humour of the pencil and the brush represented him, with three hats upon his head, toiling along Downing Street with an old clothes bag over his shoulder, upon which was labelled “ budget.” In this elevation to high office we have another instance of how exceptional was the political career of the late Lord Beacons- field. Since the development of parlia¬ mentary government during the last fifty years the pursuit of politics has become a profession, in which the prizes at its dis¬ posal are given, more as the rewards of ability, industry, and experience than as the consequences of lofty station and social combinations. The days are past when a foolish peer had a seat in the cabinet on account of the boroughs in his gift, or when the young man of fashion, favoured by a powerful minister, drew his salary as a vice-president or an under-secretary of state. If we examine the administrations before the Reform Bill of 1832 we shall find that men, at an age when they would now seldom be asked to serve on important committees, then held the seals of high and responsible office. St. John (after¬ wards Lord Bolingbroke) and Sir Robert Walpole at thirty-two were secretaries-at- war ; at twenty-three the second Pitt was chancellor of the exchequer; at thirty-five the Marquis of Rockingham became first lord of the Treasury; Lord Shelburne was president of the Board of Trade at twenty- six; Canning was foreign secretary at six and thirty; at thirty-two Addington was speaker of the House of Commons; and coming down to more modern times we find the first Lord Durham privy seal at six and thirty; Lord Palmerston secretary- at-war at twenty-five ; Sir James Graham first lord of the Admiralty at thirty-seven; Sir Robert Peel chief secretary for Ireland at thirty-four; Wellesley governor-general of India at thirty-seven; Lord Normanby lord-lieutenant of Ireland at the same age ; Macaulay secretary-at-war before he was 13G THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD forty, and numerous other instances of men before they had reached their prime holding some of the most important posts under the crown. This rapid advancement is now no longer regarded with approval by the country. We require those raised to high and responsible office to he men not only of ability, but of long parliamentary ex¬ perience; and unless these conditions are fulfilled, we decline to place much confidence in the appointments. The mere talent of youth inspires us with no faith, nor do we rate at a high value the mere experience which age seldom fails to afford. We have no objection to the humbler posts in an administration being occupied by youthful genius or untried ability; but we demand that those higher offices which entitle a member to a seat in tile cabinet should only be conferred upon those who have proved themselves worthy of being intrusted with the interests of the nation. As men on the turf judge of the horses entered for an im¬ portant race by their past performances at inferior meetings, so on examining the list of a cabinet does the country estimate the value of the ministers constituting it by their past conduct when in an inferior capacity. Every member of a cabinet has invariably served the Crown previously to his appoint¬ ment within the inner circle of the adminis¬ tration in some more modest post—as a junior lord, or an under-secretary of state, or as the vice-president of some board or another, and the like; and thus both the Crown and the nation have had an oppor¬ tunity of judging how far the individual is calculated to do justice to the higher appointment. When Mr. Disraeli was called to preside over the finances of the country, he had never held any office—not even the most subordinate—in the state; his appointment is almost the only instance in our history of a politician entering the exclusive arena of the cabinet without having first won his spurs as an official hack. Genius requires no preparatory training; at one hound Mr. Disraeli had become the leader of a great party; at one bound he had become a cabinet minister It would he absurd to say that the appointment of the new chancellor of the exchequer gave universal satisfaction. Mr. Disraeli was, so far as office was concerned, an untried man; he had never made finance his special study; he was brilliant and held original theories on many subjects, and therefore in the eyes of sober business men he was considered dangerous. Most people thought the appointment unwise, whilst many looked upon it as the wildest and most reckless act that Lord Derby could have committed. “ He is a good orator,” they cried, alluding to Mr. Disraeli, “ a splendid debater, a perfect strategist, and a consummate master, when he chooses, of the art of saying something which means nothing. He created the Protectionists a party, and he therefore should he rewarded by office; but if there he one post in the administration which he should not occupy, it is that of chancellor of the exchequer.” “ It seems,” wrote the Morning Chronicle —then a liberal organ of some note— (February 24, 1852), “that Lord Derby has had the incredible rashness to make Mr. Disraeli chancellor of the exchequer. Surely it might have been possible to find some less delicate system of machinery than the finances of the country as a subject for such an experiment.” “ It is a mauvaise plaisanterie,” said the Examiner (February 28), “a plagiarism from Punch, a copy of a squib on an abortive attempt last year. The names, with an exception here and there, cannot he read in any society with¬ out a laugh; and yet, in reality, it is no laughing matter. For a serious affair there certainly was never anything so comical.” Even the Morning Post , the journal of the party, was obliged to own that the appoint¬ ment of Mr. Disraeli came upon the country with surprise. “ It cannot he doubted,” it wrote, “ that such an arrangement was among the least expected of any which it has been our duty to announce.” The leading newspaper was more complimentary, AND HIS TIMES. 137 but equally guarded in its comments upon the appointment.* “No one can doubt,” said the Times (February 24), “that Mr. Disraeli is the man to lead the House of Commons; but he certainly has con¬ sulted rather his ambition than his genius in his selection of office. It is very true that he has dived into the depths and flown to the heights of financial theory; but the chancellor of the exchequer has not merely to make profits or elucidate maxims of finance. He has also to learn and comprehend the numerous relations between the commerce and the revenue of the coun¬ try, to make elaborate financial expositions, and to be prepared with replies on any complicated question of details which con¬ venience or even malice may suggest. In preparing for such tasks Mr. Disraeli will at least work against the grain, and he will possibly find it difficult to be both a wit and a chancellor of the exchequer.” As soon as his appointment had been made out, Mr. Disraeli proceeded to issue his address. He saw that, in the present feeling of the country, to return to the prin¬ ciples of Protection where the necessaries of life were concerned was impossible, and therefore, unlike several of his colleagues, he expressed his views as to the future with great caution. As an individual he still maintained his opinions as to free trade, but as a minister it might be neces¬ sary for him to change or modify his policy. Trade was brisk; but he believed it was more due to the recent discoveries in the gold fields than to free trade. He saw, as he had predicted, that the farmer was suffering terribly, the sugar interest was crushed, and the shipping trade, from the repeal of the navigation laws, was sorely depressed. He, therefore, resolved * It has been said that Mr. Disraeli was first appointed to the home office; but that as home secretary it would be his duty to wait in his turn upon the queen, and as Her Majesty at that time had no wish to admit him to this familiarity, the original intention of Lord Derby was not carried out. Upon what authority this statement has been made we know not. The advice given by Sir Robert Walpole as to the study of history may be equally applied to the mass of hostile criticism upon the earlier part of Mr. Disraeli’s career— “ Do not read it, it is full of lies.” VOL. I. since Protection could not be restored, to do all in his power to give compensa¬ tion to the three interests which were specially affected by the recent efforts of the legislature. Still, in the address he now issued to his constituents, he expressed himself with much reserve, and indulged only in generalities as to the future policy he should advise. He stated that the queen had been pleased to call him to her privy council and had appointed him chancellor of the exchequer. Therefore, “ according to the salutary principle of the constitu¬ tion,” •(* he resigned into the hands of his constituents his seat, feeling sure that he would be re-elected. Then he proceeded to the subject-matter of the address. “The late administration,” he said, “fell to pieces from internal dissension, and not from the assault of their opponents; and notwithstanding the obvious difficulties of our position, we have felt that to shrink from encountering them would be to leave the country without a government and Her Majesty without servants. Our first duty will be to provide for the ordinary and current exigencies of the public service; but at no distant period we hope, with the concurrence of the country, to establish a policy in conformity with the principles which in opposition we have felt it our duty to maintain. “We shall endeavour to terminate that strife of classes which of late years has exercised so pernicious an influence over the welfare of this kingdom; to accomplish those remedial measures which great pro¬ ductive interests, suffering from unequal taxation, have a right to demand from a just government; to cultivate friendly f By the Act for the Security of the Crown and Succession (6 Anne c. 7), it was enacted (1) that every person holding “ any office or place of profit whatsoever under the crown,” created since October 25, 1705, or in receipt of a pension during the pleasure of the crown, should be incapacitated from sitting in the House of Commons; and (2) that every member of the House of Commons who accepted any of the previously existing offices under the crown (except a higher commission in the army) should be obliged to vacate his seat, though still eligible for re-election. The Reform Act of 1867 (30 and 31, Viet c. 102) dispenses with this neces¬ sity to seek re-election in the case of a minister who is removed from one office under the crown to another. 18 138 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD relations with all foreign powers and secure honourable peace; to uphold in their spirit, as well as in their form, our political insti¬ tutions ; and to increase the efficiency, as well as maintain the rights of our national and Protestant church. “An administration formed with these objects, and favourable to progressive im¬ provement in every department of the state, is one which we hope may obtain the support and command the confidence of the community, whose sympathies are the best foundation for a strong administration, while they are the best security for a mild government/’ A few days afterwards (March 13), he went down into Buckinghamshire and pre¬ sented himself for re-election. A Dr. Lee, who, during the earlier years of Mr. Dis¬ raeli’s representation of the county, went through the farce of posing as a rival candidate without the slightest chance of success, put in his usual appearance, and was as usual speedily disposed of. The chancellor of the exchequer then stood up to address the vast audience that had assembled from all parts of the country to hear him. As soon as the cheers that greeted his presence had subsided, he began his speech. He opened by alluding to the old stories of his enemies—that he had started in life as a Radical, that he had voted for this and then for that, and that ‘ he could amuse an audience for hours and send them away only wondering what they had been hearing about.’ He, how¬ ever, should not stop to vindicate his career; if nothing could be said against him but what he had done and said twenty years ago, he thought it was some presumption that they had a right to suppose that in the interval he had said and done nothing that could be very easily impugned. Whatever were his indiscretions, they commenced in Buckinghamshire, and Buckinghamshire had permitted him to atone for them. In politics, as in everything else, a man was not the worse for having ‘sown his wild oats.’ He, however, now promised his audi¬ ence, that if they would only listen to him on this occasion, they would not go away “wondering what they had been hearing about,” for it would be from no fault of his if they took their departure without a definite idea of what the intentions of the government w T ere. Then he proceeded to lay before his hearers the programme of the cabinet, which, briefly summed up, signified that since the country generally was in favour of free trade, the ministry would endea¬ vour to substitute compensation for pro¬ tection. The corn laws had been repealed, without considering the burdens to which the agricultural interest was subject. The national debt had been increased to terminate slavery, and markets had been opened to slave-grown produce, in a manner which even free traders of great celebrity regarded as entirely unjustifiable towards the colonial interest. The navigation laws had been repealed, and British shipping had thus been forced into competition with the shipping of all the world, and the British seaman and the British shipowner had sus¬ tained losses of a very onerous and injurious character. “ Gentlemen,” said Mr. Disraeli, “it is our opinion that as much injustice in the years 1846 to 1849 was done to these three great interests, in which such an immense amount of capital is invested and on which the employment of so much labour depends, justice should be done them. We are not ashamed to say that this is our political creed—that justice should be done to all classes; and if that be true, you will agree with me that justice should be done to the British producer as well as to the British consumer. If we can show—which it is not difficult to do, because all acknowledge it—that there are great classes of producers in this country who are suffering because they are placed in an unequal competition, it is not only our policy as a *party, it is our duty as English statesmen, to see that interest placed in its legitimate position.” lie then entered into statistics, and AND HIS TIMES. 139 showed that land was improperly burdened to the extent of about £2,000,000 or £3,000,000 a }^ear, or in other words to the extent of a shilling in the pound; whilst at the same time the cultivator of the soil was called upon to enter into un¬ restricted competition with the cultivators of the soil of all other countries. How could, he asked, the landed interest pay these he^vy burdens—burdens which no other class in the community bore ? He was in favour, like that great political economist Mr. M‘Culloch, of a counter¬ vailing duty; and he pledged himself to secure for the agricultural interest ample and complete redress. As it now was, the people of England were eating a farmer every night for their supper. It was absurd to suppose that all the commercial prosperity of the present day had merely originated in their permitting free imports to this country to compete with their taxed exports at home. Unquestionably the moment they opened the ports of this country, a great expansion of their foreign trade had taken place. Every Protectionist predicted it, but at the same time they had also said that such expansion would be accompanied with considerable suffering, which would overweigh the interests at nome. The stress upon the farmer was foretold, and unquestionably it had occurred. He admitted with pleasure that the labour¬ ing population had not suffered, nay that their condition had even improved ; still much of such improvement was due not to free trade, but to the absence of Irish competition caused by “that fatal emigra¬ tion which has reduced the population of the sister isle by millions.” He also owned that the country had not suffered, what they all had predicted it would suffer, from the drain of gold in consequence of free imports. And why ? Because the gold mining operations had been so successful that “last year the gold that came from America went through the bank like a sieve.” He then concluded by saying that the cabinet had no objection to dissolve parliament if the country earnestly wished it, but that they would not have the question pressed upon them by their op¬ ponents. “ Confident myself,” he said, “that in taking office we have at least resolved to do our utmost for the advan¬ tage of the country, I shall feel that the consciousness of that duty will sustain us under trying exigencies. And, gentlemen, I may say that as the noble lord who is at the head of the administration took Provi¬ dence to witness in the senate of his country that he was influenced by no personal feeling in occupying the post of danger which he now fills, I will also express my hope that, whatever may be the fate of the government, when we leave office there will at least be among all temperate and impartial men a sense that, however humble may have been our efforts, we have en¬ deavoured to do our duty to our country, our sovereign, and our God.” The House of Commons met, after its brief adjournment, March 12, 1852. The chancellor of the exchequer had scarcely taken his seat upon the Treasury bench before Mr. Yilliers, of corn-law fame, rose up to catechise the government as to their future policy. On the accession of a Con¬ servative cabinet to power much alarm was felt by a certain section of the country. It was feared that legislation would retrace its steps, and that Protection would oust free trade from the markets. Lord Derby, on the first resignation of the Kussell ministry, had openly avowed his intention, should he ever undertake the task of forming an administration, of returning to the principles of Protection. Several of his colleagues in their election addresses had expressed themselves as hostile to the repeal of the corn laws, and had spoken with no uncertain voice as to the course they should recommend for the relief of the landed interest. The Opposition was alarmed. Anti-corn law meetings were held all over the country to combat the supposed retrogressive policy of the Tory party; a coalition had been effected between 140 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD the Whigs and the Feelites on the basis of supporting free trade; and since the new government were in favour of Protection, and the present parliament had been returned ostensibly to pass free-trade measures, every effort was to be made to force the Derby cabinet to dissolve the Houses and appeal to the country. It was the confident opinion of the Whigs and the Peelites that a general election would place the Tories in a most palpable minority. Mr. Yilliers embodied the current gossip of the clubs and the journals in the ques¬ tions he put to the leader of the House of Commons. He wished, he said, to come to a clear understanding with respect to the intentions of Her Majesty’s ministers. What was the principle or the policy on which the government proposed to regulate the foreign commerce of the country, and more especially that branch of it which was engaged in the supply of food for the people ? A Protectionist party was in possession of the government; what was that Protectionist government going to do for the cause of Protection ? In what manner was the chancellor of the exche¬ quer about to establish that policy with which he had been identified in opposition? Was the tenant farmer to have the 5s. fixed duty which had been promised him at the hustings—a duty by which the farmer would get only 2s. on a quarter of wheat, whilst it would enable the landlord to come down upon him and say, “ I have got you back Protection; you must now return me the ten per cent. I abated off your rent.” AYas this to be ? He begged the chancellor of the exchequer to come forward and make an open avowal of the intentions of the government on the subject of their policy with respect to the foreign commerce of the country. The nation wanted no change of policy; it wanted no dissolution, no disturbance or struggle of any kind. All it wanted was to be allowed to remain in its present peaceful and prosperous con¬ dition, and for that nothing was required but a declaration on the part of the cabinet that it had no intention to disturb the policy of free trade. Thus solemnly adjured, Mr. Disraeli rose up to reply. He begged to assure the House, in spite of the superior information of Mr. Yilliers, who not only knew that corn was to be taxed, but the exact amount of the tax, and the exact benefit that would arise from the impost, that the government had no intention of introducing any scheme of commercial or fiscal legislation before the dissolution of parliament, in order that the principle of Protection might be submitted to the deliberate judgment of the electors. Ministers intended to do nothing of the kind. They considered that a very great injustice had been done to the agricultural and other interests by the change which had taken place in 1846, and subsequently in 1847, 1848, and 1849, and consequently they were extremely desirous, for the bene¬ fit of all classes of the community, that that injustice should be redressed. It would, therefore, be their duty to consider the condition of the agricultural interest, and to propose such measures as were best calculated to remove the grievances under which it laboured. Ministers were, however, not pledged to any specific measure; they reserved to themselves the right of adopting what expedient they considered the most efficacious for the object they had in view. Other matters beside the agricultural in¬ terest would also engage their attention. They intended to bring before the House the question of chancery reform, the dis¬ franchisement of St. Albans, and the dis¬ tribution of the forfeited seats, and measures for the internal defence of the country. He was not bound, said Mr. Disraeli, to have answered the queries of Mr. Yilliers with such frankness, and he hoped that gentle¬ man would be satisfied with the course the government intended to pursue. Then he proceeded to turn the tables upon his assailants. As the Opposition had very candidly inquired what were the principles on which the present adminis¬ tration was formed, he, on behalf of the AND HIS TIMES. 141 ministry, would likewise ask what were the principles on which the Opposition was formed. The Opposition had recently been reconstructed ; it was now composed not only of its original Whig element, but the Peelites, led by Sir James Graham, had joined it; and acting with it were also the Free-traders led by Mr. Cobden. On what principle was the new Opposition founded? Was it the principle of Papal supremacy, or of Protestant ascendancy ? Was it the principle of household suffrage, or of elec¬ toral groups ? Was it the principle of Mr. Cobden, that free trade was the panacea for all the evils of states, or was it a prin¬ ciple framed in deference to the sentiments of Lord John Russell, that free trade was a great exaggeration ? He thought these questions should be as frankly answered as the questions which had been pressed upon the government. He knew the difficulties before him, but he did not despair of baffling the manoeuvres of faction. Then he took his seat. A keen debate ensued. Lord John Rus¬ sell complained that the ministers, being in a minority, did not express their intention of dissolving parliament and appealing to the country. Mr. Herries proved, from statistics in his hand, that the repeal of the navigation laws had been injurious to British shipping. Sir James Graham refuted the figures of Mr. Herries, and declared that, according to the constitu¬ tional precedents of Mr. Pitt in 1784, of Earl Grey in 1831, and of Lord John Russell in 1841, the government being in a minority, should speedily dissolve, and not attempt to carry through the present parliament the measures they proposed* * “ Since the establishment of parliamentary government,” writes Earl Grey, “ the ordinary description of the British constitution, as one in which the executive power belongs exclusively to the crown, while the power of legislation is vested jointly in the sovereign and the two Houses of Par¬ liament, has ceased to be correct, unless it be understood in a legal and technical sense. It is the distinguishing feature of parliamentary government that it requires the powers be¬ longing to the crown to be exercised through ministers, who are held responsible for the manner in which they are used, who are expected to be members of the two Houses of. Par¬ liament, the proceedings of which they must be able generally to guide, and who are considered entitled to hold their offices Most of the more prominent members on both sides of the House took part in the debate. The result of the discussion was, from the Conservative point of view, that the government did not intend to reverse a free-trade policy, but that they thought that that policy should be so altered and modi¬ fied as not to press urgently upon one class while benefiting another. The Opposition was, however, dissatisfied with the various statements, which, it said, had elucidated nothing. Sir Alexander Cockburn summed up the sentiments of his party in a few words. “ What was the meaning of the government?” he asked. “Did the modi¬ fication of the right hon. gentleman the chancellor of the exchequer mean the im¬ position of duties and taxes upon the food of the people ? It was essential that the people should understand that there was a policy by which the government meant to stand or fall, or whether they merely pro¬ posed to stand the chance of the next election on the principle of “ Heads I win: tails you lose.” A few evenings (March 19) after the debate, the question was put point-blank by Lord John Russell to Mr. Disraeli, only while they possess the confidence of parliament , and more especially of the House of Commons." Constitutional etiquette, however, demands that, on ministers coming into office, no factious opposition should be directed against them until after proof of gross incapacity. On the resignation of the Russell cabinet, Lord John had openly declared that a dissolution of parliament was not expedient; and yet, within a fortnight of having made that statement, he was badgering Mr. Disraeli because he did not dissolve ! The cases alluded to by Sir James Graham are these:—In 1784 Mr. Pitt, being in a parliamentary minority, said, “ Only give me permission to pass the Mutiny Bill, and the House shall be dissolved forthwith.” In 1831 Lord Grey was beaten upon the Reform Bill by George Gascoigne, and he at once tendered his resignation, unless the king were pleased to dissolve the parliament. In 1841 the Russell government was defeated on the vote of want of confidence carried by Sir Robert Peel. Sir Robert, therefore, recommended Lord John to dissolve parliament with the least possible delay, and call a new parliament together immediately. These cases were, however, not parallel to the present situation. In 1831 and 1841 the ministers were beaten in parliament by a House of Commons of their own convening. The Derby government was called to power in a House of Commons assembled by the late government, and only brought into power because the late government acknowledged themselves unable to carry on the affairs of the country. The Conser¬ vatives, therefore, thought they should be neglecting their duty if they did not try to carry on the business of the government until the sense of the country could be taken upon certain grave questions. 142 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD whether the ministry, being in an acknow¬ ledged minority, “are prepared to advise the crown to dissolve the present parlia¬ ment and to summon a new one with the least possible delay consistent with a due regard to the public interest in reference to those measures which are of urgent and immediate importance ? ” The chancellor of the exchequer at once rose and stated that Lord John had addressed an unpre¬ cedented question to Her Majesty’s govern¬ ment. “ I shall, however,” said Mr. Disraeli, “ reply to the noble lord. I think it is highly unconstitutional and most impolitic that Her Majesty’s government should pledge themselves to advise Her Majesty to dis¬ solve parliament at a stated and specific period. The noble lord must feel that circumstances might suddenly arise which would render the fulfilment of such a pledge not only injurious, but perhaps even im¬ practicable. At the same time I have no hesitation in saying that it is the intention of Her Majesty’s government to advise Her Majesty to dissolve this parliament so soon as those necessary measures have been passed—I should rather say, so soon as those measures have been passed which are necessary for the service of Her Majesty and the security and good government of her realm. I need only say further, that it is our wish and our intention to meet the new parliament that will be elected, so that the decision of the now parliament may be taken upon the question of confidence in the present administration, and upon the measures which they will find it their duty, under those circumstances, to propose in the course of the present year.” Shortly after this announcement the question of reform again came before the House, and the chancellor of the exchequer, as was his custom whenever the elective franchise was discussed, made a long speech. The irrepressible Mr. Hume had requested leave to bring in a bill to amend the national representation by extending the elective franchise so that every man of full age who had been the resident occupier of a house or part of a house, as a lodger, for a year, and had been duly rated, should be registered as an elector, and be entitled to vote for a representative in parliament. At the same time he proposed the ballot, triennial parliaments, and that the propor¬ tion of representatives should be made more consistent with the amount of popu¬ lation and property. Mr. Disraeli began by criticising the last proposition of Mr. Hume, since it was, he said, the most interesting. He denied the truth of that very common but very inaccurate statement, that the proportion of representatives was unfairly arranged in favour of territorial influence. It was said that the proportion of repre¬ sentatives was so arranged by the present system that the town populations were not fairly represented in the English constitu¬ tion and in the House of Commons. Such an assertion was untrue. He would deal with facts. Take North Cheshire for ex¬ ample. In North Cheshire they had only two towns, and both of great manufacturing importance—Macclesfield and Stockport. The total population of the county was 249,000; the total population of the two towns he had just named was 93,000. There remained, therefore, as the difference between the two, 156,000 for the numbers of the country population. But while the two towns, with a population of 93,000, returned four members to parliament, the rural constituency, wfith a population of 156,000,returned no more than twomembers. Take again the case of South Cheshire, in which there was only one town of note, that of Chester. The population of the county was 206,000, and the population of the town of Chester 28,000, leaving 178,000 of the population of that county who w T ere not represented, except by the county members. The town of Chester, with its population of 28,000, returned two members, while the county constituency of 178,000 returned only the same number. He would instance other great manufacturing counties. He would take the case of South Derby¬ shire, where there was only one considerable AND HIS TIMES. 143 town. The population of South Derbyshire was 166,000, and that of the town of Derby a little exceeded 40,000, leaving 125,000 of rural population. That population of 40,000 returned two members, and the rural population of 125,000 returned only the same number. Take North Durham. That district of the county contained the important towns of Durham, Gateshead, South Shields, and Sunderland. The entire population of North Durham was 272,000, including both the town population and the county population; and it presented this interesting fact, that while the population of the towns was in amount exactly the same as the county population, yet the 136,000 of the great commercial and manufacturing towns he had named were represented by six members, while the county population of 136,000—the other moiety of North Durham—were only re¬ presented by two members. He might still pursue the subject. Take the important county of Kent. West Kent had a popu¬ lation of 400,000. It contained four great towns—Chatham, Greenwich, Maidstone, and Rochester, one of those towns having a population of 100,000. The population of the towns was 169,000, and the remaining rural population w T as 228,000; yet the urban population of 169,000 returned seven members to parliament, while the 228,000 only returned the two members for West Kent. And examination into the cases of North and South Lancashire, East Norfolk, and the East and West Riding, presented similar results. “Year after year,” said Mr. Disraeli, “we have been told of the monstrous injustice of the distribution of the present electoral system—that our representative system is favourably to territorial influences, and that artificial means have been devised of giving preponderance to the landed interest. But we never heard a single word of the re¬ markable circumstances which I have just adduced. We have been furnished with many striking contrasts between the number of representatives returned by the great manufacturing towns in South Lancashire, and by the smaller boroughs in the south of England ; but no parliamentary reformer has yet condescended to favour the House with the results of a more extended research, which would at least have allowed us to bring to the discussion of this subject more extensive views, and perhaps a more temperate spirit.” Having examined the subject so far, continued Mr. Disraeli, he must confess he had arrived at a different conclusion from that of Mr. Hume. He thought that his statistics, and the statistics of his school, were founded upon partial instances, and supported by fantastic com¬ binations, which were calculated to convey to the country erroneous impressions—im¬ pressions not at all justified even by that gentleman’s own data. All the data upon which Mr. Hume had relied appeared to him illusory; and as the facts to which he, the chancellor of the exchequer, had appealed were open to all, and might be found in the books in the library of that House, and in other equally accessible and authentic documents, he should be surprised indeed to find Mr. Hume maintaining his position, that in the distribution of the representation the town population, as contradistinguished from and compared with that of the country, had not been fairly and justly treated in the present electoral system. It appeared to him that that was a position that could no longer be supported. With regard to the proposals of triennial parliaments and vote by ballot, pro¬ ceeded Mr. Disraeli, he would state what he had always said—he did not object to them, but he saw no necessity to adopt them. It would be a change, and a change, unless for the better, was seldom a wise proceeding. Nor did he see how the ballot could be established. If they had the ballot with a limited constituency, they committed a greater injustice upon the unenfranchised classes; and if they had universal suffrage, they came to a new constitution—“ a constitution,” cried Mr. 144 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD Disraeli, “ commonly called the Sovereignty of the People; you came to that constitu¬ tion, in short, so much spoken of, so often panegyrized by the reforming and liberal members of this House—the constitution of America. But the sovereignty of the people is not the constitution of England; for wisely modified as that monarchy may be, the constitution of England is the sove¬ reignty of Queen Victoria.” But it had been alleged that vote by bal¬ lot would put an end to all bribery and corruption. Was that so ? He had papers in his hand touching elections in the United States, where the ballot was in all its glory. Yet those papers stated that so alarming was the increase of bribery that had taken place in the elections for the state of New York, that it demanded the serious atten¬ tion of _the legislature. This was the way he read how persons were treated at the last election in that pattern America, and under the beneficial influence of the ballot: —“ Individuals were not merely beaten from the polls, but they were knocked down, beaten, and stabbed when proceeding about their ordinary occupations in open day, in distant parts of the city. The police appeared to have been utterly ineffi¬ cient, and the 100,000 citizen soldiers, of whom the New York papers boasted so much, were content to remain at home while a few gangs of ruffians commanded all the approaches to the polling-booths, and in one instance destroyed the ballot-box.” It was idle to suppose that open voting or vote by ballot could check corruption; it was a question of morality, not of politi¬ cal discipline. “ I believe,” said Mr. Dis¬ raeli, “it is a growing conviction among Englishmen that corruption is the conse¬ quence, not of one form of voting or of another, but of men being properly or im¬ properly brought up. You may pass laws ostensibly to prevent corruption in countries where voting is secret, as well as in coun¬ tries where voting is open; but corruption cannot be stopped by acts of parliament; it can only be stopped by elevating the tone of the community, and making men ashamed of the thing itself. You must seek for an antidote to corruption in that direction, and not in the newfangled systems of election. I say, further, that the tone of the com¬ munity in which we live has become more elevated in this respect. Every successive quarter of a century shows an improvement. No man who knows anything of the tone of public life a hundred years ago, can hesitate to admit that corruption then ascended much higher in society than it does at present. You have driven corruption from the higher classes. In proportion as edu¬ cation and opinion extended among the gentry, men became purer; and when the same influences come into equal operation among the humbler classes, it will be recog¬ nized that it is for the interest of all classes that bribery should disappear.” In conclusion, he dealt with an assertion which Mr. Bright and the rest of the Man¬ chester school were constantly in the habit of making—an assertion out of which they derived considerable capital when address¬ ing the ignorant portion of their constitu ents “ Is the system to be endured,” cried the Manchester politicians, “ in which only one in seven of the adult population of this country enjoys the franchise ? ” Mr. Disraeli then entered into statistics compiled from the census of 1841 and the electoral return of 1842-43, clearly proving that instead of one in seven of the adult population enjoy¬ ing the franchise, it was, as a matter of fact, nearly one in three! “ What a difference,” he laughed, “ from the statements made at Manchester and at Leeds ! From those of reform associations at Liverpool or any¬ where else! What a difference from the statements made in pamphlets! What a difference from the statements of those erratic orators who, during the recess, have astonished the world ! Why, instead of one in seven, it is absolutely little more than half what you say, even including 1,500,000 of labourers, whom not one of you have unequivocally proposed to enfranchise.” Mr. Disraeli therefore considered the AND IIIS TIMES. 145 propositions now before the House crude, false, and based on grave statistical errors. Neither he nor his party was opposed to reform. The Conservatives did not consider an extension of the franchise as synonymous with the extension of democratic power. It did not follow, because they refused to listen to proposi¬ tions of the kind now before them, that they as a party were opposed to all reform. No; the contrary was the fact. “But I will tell the hon. gentleman,” said Mr. Disraeli, looking at Mr. Hume, “what we are opposed to—we are adverse to all crude and unnecessary proposals founded on such erroneous calculations as the present. I tell him that if any project on this or any other subject is brought forward, I hope it will be founded on more accurate data than the one before us. What we are opposed to is tampering with the depositary of political power—to constant shifting and changing of the depositary of political power—as the most injurious thing to a country that can be conceived. You may talk of tampering with the currency, and there are few things worse; but that which is worse is, tampering with the constituency of England. If there is to be a change, let it be a change called for by pure neces¬ sity, and one which is calculated to give general—I will not say final—but general and permanent satisfaction. I ask, is the proposition of the hon. member for Mon¬ trose—the whole foundation of which I have shown to be utterly fallacious—is that a proposition calculated to give general and permanent satisfaction? . . . We can¬ not sanction the proposition of the hon. gentleman or his friends. And may we not flatter ourselves -that after the debate of this night, he will reconsider these things—that he will investigate them—that he will calmly consider the important infor¬ mation from the other side of the Atlantic which I have given him—and that next year, with a health, spirit, and energy which I hope he will long enjoy, we may find him coming forward more temperate VOL. i. in his views, and more careful in his state¬ ments ? Till we have propositions of a different character brought forward, I shall stand by the settlement made in 1832 ; not because it was a settlement made for our party interests—for, on the contrary, it was levelled against those supposed interests; but the good sense of the country has exer¬ cised a remedial influence over the devices of rival factions, and under that settlement of 1832 the country has on the whole, in my opinion, been well governed. At any rate, it is not what is styled the Liberal party which should dispute that position. There is not a great question, which during the last twenty years has enlisted a pre¬ ponderating amount of popular sympathy out of doors, which this House has not adopted and carried; and though I may think that in more than one instance great subjects have thus been dealt with in an unwise and precipitate spirit, that should be no cause of censure with hon. gentlemen opposite. Until, therefore, they can suc¬ ceed in showing that this country has of late years been generally misgoverned— and that would be a condemnation of their whole course—and until they are prepared to substitute for the existing House of Commons a far more clear and coherent scheme than any they have yet offered, I must uphold an arrangement, which, though conceived in no friendly spirit to the Tory party, is one which has not proved hostile to the national institutions—institutions which, I believe, to be necessary not only to the greatness of the country, but to the freedom of the people.” These arguments, which Lord John Russell admitted had been gone through with “very great ability,” carried the day. On the House dividing, the motion of Mr. Hume was rejected by a majority of 155. The government were to score a still greater victory. The change of a Russell cabinet into a Derby cabinet had made no difference in the feeling of the nation as to the imperfect state of the internal defences of the country. With France it was true 19 146 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD we were then at peace; but every day events proved that Louis Napoleon was not only a bold man, but an unscrupulous man, who would not hesitate to resort to the wildest proceedings if by them he pandered to the vanity of his new subjects, or could render his tenure of power more secure. In the clubs, in drawing rooms, on provincial exchanges, the one subject upon which all men agreed was the possibility of England being invaded by a foreign enemy, and that enemy our old foe, who was burning to revenge Waterloo. It was said that within twenty miles of our coast were 500,000 soldiers, who, thanks to the appli¬ cation of steam to the purposes of marine, could effect a speedy landing upon our shores. Even the first Napoleon, it was nervously argued, wanted but the command of the channel for a brief twenty-four hours, to see his 60,000 men, then under canvas at Boulogne, marching through Sussex and Kent straight upon London; and now, through the agencies of the screw and the paddle, but a fifth of that time would be sufficient to see the blue coats and red trousers of the French soldiery in our midst. “ Only conceive,” cried Mr. Roebuck, then preparing for his part as the dog “ Tear ’em,” “only conceive what would be the con¬ sequence, not merely to England, but to mankind at large, of the occupation of Lon¬ don but for twelve hours by an invading force. Don’t tell me this is not likely to happen. Let me call to your recollection that London is the only capital in Europe in which French armies have not planted themselves. Those armies have roamed through Europe, checked only first by frost, and secondly by England; and let the House be well assured that France has not forgotten this latter check, but is, on the contrary, now more than ever eager to have her revenge. Yes! there is danger, and great danger, ay, and immediate danger; and speaking not as an individual, but as a man interested in the destinies of humanity, as a friend of the people, I call upon the parliament to strengthen England, not for the purpose of aggressive warfare, but of national defence.” In this appeal Mr. Roebuck rightly felt the pulse of the country. Every one— save the cheese-parers and the abject traders who had studied pusillanimity as a virtue behind the counters of Manchester —was in favour of the maxim, “If you wish for peace, prepare for war.” It was all very well to talk of the spirit of England; but of what avail would such spirit be against a disciplined and aggressive foe ? “ Unor¬ ganized, undisciplined, without systematic subordination established and well under¬ stood,” said the Duke of Wellington, “ this spirit opposed to the fire of musketry and cannon, and to sabres and bayonets of disciplined troops, would only expose those animated by such spirit to confusion and destruction.” What was wanted was a practised and capable force to be held in reserve in case of emergency. The Whigs had brought in a bill to amend the laws relating to the local militia, which political reverses had now caused them to abandon; the Tories would therefore be greatly to blame if, on an occasion like the present, they were to ignore the defenceless condi¬ tion of the country. Accordingly towards the end of March Mr. Walpole was intrusted with the task of carrying through the House of Commons a bill to “ amend and consolidate the laws respecting the militia.” The speech in which he introduced his measure was temperate and practical. He did not think, he said, that the country was menaced with any actual and im¬ mediate danger; but, looking to the elements of anarchy and confusion in Europe, it was certainly necessary that England ought in her means of defence at least, whatever might be her means of attack, to be placed on an equal footing with other nations. Were they, or were they not, in such a state of defence as the inhabitants of a great country like theirs ought to be ? The answer was not a difficult one. They had, it was true, a large army; but that army was not a quarter of AND HIS TIMES. 147 tlie army of Russia, not half the army of Prussia, not a third of the army of France, and very little more than the army of Belgium; and yet they had to defend an empire comprising one-sixth of the popula¬ tion and one-eighth of the surface of the habitable globe. Their troops were conse¬ quently scattered over the whole world. In case of sudden invasion or incursion, what was the force which they could bring to bear upon the south coast of England ? He replied that, even by leaving the rest of the country deprived of military force, they could not bring to bear upon any one point 25,000 men. He did not forget the navy. It was said that they had ships enough to cover the whole of the south coast; but if that were true, had they men enough to man them? and if they had ships enough, would the House vote the money to enable the government to put them in commission? Besides, in a case of invasion a fleet was rarely serviceable unless aided by a covering force by land. He proposed, therefore, to have recourse to their national militia; it was a force familiar to the country, it had done good service in the past, and from it they could recruit the regular army. The objects of the measure he now brought before the House were to create an addi¬ tional force of 80,000 men, to be per¬ manently established for the defence of the kingdom. This force was to be raised by means of bounties—say £3 or £4— and the period of training and drilling was to be twenty-one days, with a power to the Crown to extend such period, in cases of necessity, to fifty-six days. So little was this militia bill a party act, that its provisions were more or less cordially approved of by the leading members on both sides of the House. There was, however, one conspicuous ex¬ ception. In all matters not connected with the development of commerce Mr. Cobden held the short-sighted views of the culpably thrifty and mean-spirited tradesman. Every proceeding that tended to keep the shop open and fill it with wares, he warmly approved of; but no sooner was it a question of ex¬ pending anything upon the purchase of iron shutters, or upon the increase of the patrol for the better protection of the warehouse, than he became acrid and miserly, noisily asserting that there were no thieves about, nor any probability of a riot. On this occasion of the militia bill he was very true to the teaching of his contemptible philosophy. He did not believe in the possibility of England being invaded; and if she were, of what use, he asked, would such a force be as the militia? “ I can’t treat the thing as serious,” he cried; “it just seems to me to be this, that somebody wants to create soldiers; that lords-lieutenant want patronage and fuss; that somebody else seeks amusement with red coats; and I do not believe that any¬ body in this country seriously entertains the fear of an invasion by France.” The French, he continued, were a commercial people, second only to ourselves as a manufacturing nation, and they had something far better to do than to make a raid upon England. Instead of increasing our army, we ought to reduce it. He was satisfied with the defences of the nation; why, therefore, was he to be taxed in order that the militia should be increased? It was absurd to say that the country was in danger; he did not care for the opinions of naval and military officers and such people; the Marylebone vestry had declared that the country was not in danger, and that was sufficient for him. [What would Mr. Cobden have thought if the English farmer had argued in some such fashion: He, Bill Hodges, was quite satisfied with the duty on corn, why should he be harshly taxed in order that the corn laws should be repealed ? He did not care for the opinions of economists, leaguers, and such folk; the farmers’ ordinary at the “ Magpie and Stump ” had declared that the corn laws were necessary for the landed interest, and that was sufficient for him!] It was the custom of the Treasury bench, said Mr. 143 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD Cobden, allowing his miserable economy to get the better of his common sense, to chat¬ ter about the paucity of the services, yet the truth was they had more men in them than were required. Bring the troops home from the colonies, he suggested, and disband them; order the ships home from their sta¬ tions and burn them to the water’s edge, provided France would do the same; then taxation could be reduced, then the country could be happy, prosperous, and contented. He saw no reason for this increase of their armaments; and as he considered the bill a wanton act, he should oppose the measure at every stage. Mr. Bright, of course, fol¬ lowed suit. Comic satire has represented Mr. Bright as a “ roaring bull,” making the welkin of vested interests ring with his deep-mouthed threatening tones. At this time of his political career, however, his roar was little more than the echo of the eloquence of the great apostle of free-trade; indeed, Mr. Bright so admired Mr. Cobden as scarcely to be capable of expressing an independent opinion; * satire would there¬ fore have been more true to its art if it had described the then representative of Manchester as a spaniel instead of as a member of the bovine herd. Mr. Disraeli made a short speech upon the first reading of the bill, and then more in refutation of Mr. Cobden’s unpatriotic arguments than in support of the measure itself. He would not attempt, he said sarcastically, to answer Mr. Cobden, who had made one of those agreeable speeches which he always listened to with pleasure. Mr. Cobden was not merely against the militia, but against all defence—against the line, the household troops, the artillery, and the cavalry; and his arguments pro¬ ceeded on the assumption that in the present state of the world no country need defend itself. The chancellor of the ex¬ chequer could not give his adhesion to * It is true that Mr. Bright called the Derby cabinet a “ confederated imposture,” but, as Mr. Disraeli had some years before stigmatized the government of Sir Robert Peel as an “ organized hypocrisy,” the originality of the remark is perhaps open to dispute. those opinions. There were features in the present political arrangements of the world which forbade him to believe that the reign of peace was to be ushered in. So long as he found the strongest places in the pos¬ session of the weakest powers, so long as he observed that throughout Europe and Asia the richest countries were under the dominion of the poorest sovereigns, he felt that that was a state of things which would lead no doubt hereafter, he hoped not in his own time, to very great changes which could not, he believed, be effected by any other agency than war. It was the duty, therefore, of a country like England to be prepared for any emergency that might arise. The craven counsels of Mr. Cobden and his school did not bear much fruit. On the second reading of the bill the House divided—ayes, 315; noes, 165; majority, 150. The royal assent was given to the bill June 30, 1852. During the first weeks of his tenure of office Mr. Disraeli was deeply immersed in business. In addition to the heavy work involved in the preparation of his first financial statement before a keenly critical audience, scarcely a night passed without him being called upon to make some reply, which partook more or less of the nature of a speech. How it was upon a question of supply, then upon some railway extension, then upon the hop duty, or the import duties upon wine, or the paper duty, or the Frome Vicarage case, or the corrupt prac¬ tices at elections, or he had to explain the clauses contained in a private bill which the government either opposed or supported. Silence and repose were denied him. He had hoped that the defeat of Mr. Hume would have restrained the activity of the Reformers, and that they would have been content to leave the bill of 1832 alone until they were more united as to the amendments they proposed to effect. He was soon undeceived. Only a few days after the rejection of Mr. Hume’s motion, Mr. Locke-King came forward to do battle, AND HIS TIMES. 149 ever-faithful to liis old love, tlie county franchise. He begged leave, April 27, 1852, to bring in a bill to make the franchise, and procedure at elections in England and Wales, the same as in the boroughs, by giving the right of voting to all occupiers of tenements of the annual value of ten pounds; the time of taking the poll to be limited to one day, and the time of proceeding to election to be limited to eight days. It was the same bill as he had introduced the year before, with the addition as to polling places and the dura¬ tion of elections, and among the chief supporters of the innovation were Mr. Hume and Mr. Bright. The chancellor of the exchequer gave the motion his unqualified opposition. He objected to it because it was partial, and he also considered that the lax system, session after session, of tampering with the constitution, now of attempting to alter the constituencies of the towns and then of seeking to add to or adjust the constituencies of counties, was mischievous, and could only lead to conclusions which would be unsatisfactory. He had also another objec¬ tion to the bill. He had often said, and it was the expression of a deep and sincere conviction on his part, that he thought in the construction of that memorable law, the Reform Act of 1832, there was a very great deficiency—which consisted in a want of due consideration of the rights of the working classes to the franchise. And if there were that great deficiency in their system of representation, he assuredly could not understand how that measure, or the other measures on the same subject which had been so frequently proposed, were at all to meet the deficiency. Under their old system, by the suffrages of the freemen, the political rights of the labourers were acknowledged by the constitution. They virtually destroyed those rights. He was aware, of course, that the rights of the then possessors were reserved. But the fountains which supplied that constituency were destroyed; and, in fact, they virtually ter¬ minated the political rights of labour with the class of freemen they destroyed. lie traced much of the discontent in the country , which at times had been painfully felt, with regard to the Reform Act of 1832, to the omission to which he had adverted. Yet, what had been the remedy w T hich had been offered by those who arrogated to them¬ selves the sole privilege of representing and championing the rights of the working classes ? They came forward and proposed a large extension of the suffrage, virtually universal suffrage; their remedy was to throw the whole power of the country into the hands of a mere class. Instead of securing a constituency which gave to property all the rights of property, which gave to labour all the rights of labour, which cherished, in short, the existence of those various classes, the recognition, the legal and political recognition, of whose interests had, he believed, been one of the main causes of the flourishing condition of the country, and of the duration of its order—both social and political—they pro¬ posed, as a remedy, a measure which essentially was a measure of class legisla¬ tion, because they proposed to give political authority to a class so numerous that it would overwhelm all other classes, and entirely change the constitution of the country. To such a change he was opposed, as hurtful to the condition and character of the nation. Still, continued Mr. Disraeli, that was no reason why they might not consider whether an industrial franchise might not be invented which would give satis¬ faction to those who claimed to be repre¬ sented in the legislation of the country. That was a question which deserved the grave consideration of any man responsible for the good government of the country. On the part of himself, and on the part of his colleagues—he had said it before, and he repeated it now, in order that their opinions might not be misunderstood—he stated that they did not necessarily associate an extension of the franchise with the 150 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD extension of democratic power. If he could see any measure brought forward—well matured, conceived, not in political passion, but with a sincere desire of giving to deserv¬ ing artisans the exercise of the suffrage in a manner consistent with the maintenance of those institutions the preservation of which he believed were as much for the interest of those artisans as they were for the interests of any other class of the country —he would give, and so would those with whom he acted, to such a proposition a dispassionate and kind consideration. But the motion of Mr. Locke-King was not of that class; and until some measure was brought forward which, as he thought, met the difficulties of the case, he must take his stand upon the settlement which existed— not from any superstitious reverence for that settlement, hut because he was opposed to year after year tampering with the con¬ stitution of the country — a tampering which he was convinced was the source of political weakness and of national debility. Let no one suppose, said Mr. Disraeli, that there was, on the part of the present government, any bigoted adherence to the forms then existing. The present govern¬ ment had only one object, an object which he sincerely believed was that of all the members of the House, the good government of the country. But they desired to see the greatness of the realm maintained, and the prosperity of the people secured. And if a change in the franchise was only proposed as a mode of obtaining political power, and of exciting political agitation, to such proposal they must give their unconditional and uncom¬ promising opposition. He had too much respect for Mr. Locke-King to describe his motion as a measure of that kind. But he must nevertheless describe it as essentially unsatisfactory, not calculated in any degree to meet the exigency of the state of affairs; one which he could easily understand, if successful, might lead to much disturb¬ ance and readjustment, but which at the same time could conduce to no permanent or enduringly acceptable settlement; and, therefore he must give to it—not because that was the last session of the existing parliament, but because he would take the same view under any circumstances—an unqualified opposition. On a division the motion was lost by a majority of fifty-three. The chief attraction of the session was, however, Mr. Disraeli’s financial statement, As the night approached for the details of the budget to be laid before the House, the excitement and curiosity became very marked. Every seat in the speaker’s gal¬ lery had been engaged days before-hand; and on the afternoon of the debate the lobbies were crowded with persons appealing to members and corrupting door-keepers for admission into the strangers’ gallery. The House was fuller than it had ever been since the famous Don Pacifico affair; for though it was known that the statement to be made was only a provisional statement, and the budget only a provisional budget, yet curiosity was very keen as to how the new chancellor of the exchequer would deal with his first financial exposition. During the last three years he had been almost the only member of his party who had openly abandoned the principle of pro¬ tection; what course, then, it was asked, would he adopt which would satisfy the views of those who sat on his side of the House, and at the same time would recommend itself to the nation generally ? How could he compensate the agricultural interest for their past sufferings ? It was known that he disapproved of direct taxation; what would he substitute for it ? As one opposed to the principles of free trade, what duties would he add, what remissions would he effect ? Then, as is always the case when expectation is at its height, imagination and mendacity went hand in hand and filled the newspapers and the clubs with every fiction that rumour or gossip could devise. One journal had it, “on the very best authority,” that Lord Derby had pledged himself to uphold the policy of Protection, and that the moment Mr. AND HIS TIMES. 151 Disraeli rose to address the House, some most startling disclosures would he made. Another declared, also “on the very best authority,” that Mr. Herries was about to move for the restoration of the navigation laws. Liverpool and Manchester held mass meetings, vowing cnat they would move heaven and earth to turn out the govern¬ ment if the duty of a single farthing were placed on the importation of foreign corn. Tadpole, who was an income-tax commis¬ sioner, hovered nervous and worried between White’s and the Carlton, wondering whether there was any truth in the report that the income tax was not to be renewed ? Taper, who was drawing his £1200 a year in the inland revenue, had heard that the excise duties on soap and paper were about to be removed, and that his appointment was in danger. Then the men with their special interests, and the men with their special hobbies, wanted to know how they would be affected by the forthcoming budget. The farmers wanted to know whether the malt tax would be taken off; the econo¬ mists wanted to know what exemptions were to be made to the principle of direct taxation; the manufacturers wanted to know what excise duties, which pressed so heavily upon their wares, were to be removed or reduced; Liverpool and Minc¬ ing Lane were anxious as to the duty on tea; the distillers hoped there would be a clause in the budget placing the dealers of home-made spirits in bond on a footing of equality with the dealers of foreign and colonial spirits, with regard to the loss by leakage and evaporation; whilst the military element made bets as to the cost of the Kaffir war. In short, there was not an individual or a calling which did not look forward to the day when curiosity would be satisfied, and timiditv be set at rest from suspense. At last the long anticipated moment arrived. The order of the day had been read for a committee of ways and means; Mr. Bernal had taken his seat in the chair; and then, amid encouraging applause from both sides of the House, immediately followed by the stillest silence, Mr. Disraeli rose up (April 30, 1852) to lay before the country his financial statement. It was his habit in most of his carefully prepared speeches, not merely to adhere to dry facts, but whilst imparting a literary flavour to his matter, at the same time to give it an educational tone. On this occasion he began by sketching the history of the revenue, and the source from which it was raised. There were three modes, he said, of raising the revenue of this country—by duties upon articles of foreign import, by duties upon articles of domestic manufac¬ ture, and by a system of direct taxation. The income for the preceding year had ex¬ ceeded the expenditure by some £2,000,000, but for the year to come the expiration of the income tax would leave a deficiency estimated at the same amount. The ques¬ tion, therefore, was, how was that deficiency of £2,000,000 to be supplied ? He did not, in the present parliament, certainly think the prospect of making up that deficiency by an increase of the customs duties was very encouraging. For, during the last ten years—from 1842 to 1851 —he found one very remarkable feature in the financial management of the coun¬ try, and that was, that in every one of those years there had been a reduction of duties upon foreign articles imported into the country. They had reduced or repealed duties upon coffee, upon timber, upon wool, silk, spirits, and numerous other articles, until in the ten years mentioned they had struck off nearly £9,000,000 of calculated revenue from customs duties. That being the case, said Mr. Disraeli, it would be somewhat presumptuous on his part to suppose that he could induce the House to supply the deficiency by the imposition of fresh duties upon imports. Was his prospect, then, more encou¬ raging when he sought to meet the diffi¬ culty by having recourse to duties on articles of domestic manufacture ? In 152 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD the great controversies upon commercial legislation which had been agitated of late, two opinions had been strenuously advocated in that House as to the prefer¬ able means by which the industry of the country might be relieved—the one advo¬ cating the repeal of customs duties, the other the remission or the repeal of excise duties. Between these two schools, what was he to do ? As the calculated sources of revenue from the customs had been reduced, as he had just stated, by an amount of £9,000,000; so, during the last ten years, by various remissions of the excise duties, a sum of £1,500,000 had been lost on the excise. “ If one side of this House, 1 ” laughed Mr. Disraeli, “are of opinion that you must not supply a deficient revenue by customs duties, and the other side of the House are equally convinced that an excise duty is more injurious to the industry of a country than a duty on the import of foreign articles, what is the prospect of success for a chancellor of the exchequer, if his means of supplying a deficiency are limited to those two still important sources of our public revenue ? ” There was, then, the alternative of apply¬ ing to the third mode in which revenue could be raised—direct taxation. Yet, when he came to consider how hateful both to the House and the nation was the property and income tax, he felt that he had as little to expect from direct taxation as from indirect. What course was he to adopt; for, in questions 1 of finance, the feelings of the people were to be considered as much as the principles of science ? In theory, direct taxation was an easy, a simple, and a captivating process; but, when they came to apply it generally, it was astonishing the obstacles they en¬ countered and the prejudices they created. In his opinion, if the principle of direct taxation was to be permanently established in the country, it should be as universal in its application as indirect taxation. “No doubt,” said Mr. Disraeli, ever true to his dislike of partial and class legislation, “ by establishing a temporary measure of direct taxation based upon a large system of exemptions, you may give a great impulse to industry; you may lighten the springs of industry very effectually for a time; but—not to dwell upon the gross and glaring injustice of a system of finance that would tax directly a very limited portion of the population—but looking only to the economical and financial con¬ sequences of such a system, who cannot but feel that in the long run industry itself must suffer from such a process ? For, after all, what is direct taxation founded on a system of exemptions ? It is confiscation. It is making war upon the capital which ultimately must employ that very industry which you wish to relieve.” He then entered upon statistics most gratifying for his opponents to listen to. In spite of a vast remission of taxation the actual income of the year 1851-52 had exceeded the income estimated by Sir Charles Wood, the late chancellor of the exchequer, by more than £300,000. In spite of the reduction of the duties on sugar, coffee, and timber the customs had exceeded by some £200,000 the estimates formed by Sir Charles, whilst the consump¬ tion and importation of coffee, sugar, and timber had greatly increased. Throughout the whole of the estimates of the late chancellor of the exchequer there was the same pleasant difference between the actual receipts and the calculated receipts—the excise, the post office, stamps, and taxes, &c., all brought more money to the ex¬ chequer than had been anticipated. These statements certainly did not prove that free trade had been ruinous to the country, and they were vociferously cheered by the Opposition. It was not, however, every rival who would have had the courage or the generosity of Mr. Disraeli to bring such facts forward. At the same time we must remember that this financial prosperity was not entirely due to free trade; it was due AND HIS TIMES. 153 in no small measure to the levying of the income tax, to the gold discoveries in America and Australia, and to the impetus given to business by the Great Exhibition. The chancellor of the exchequer then came to his own financial statement. For the estimated expenditure of the year 1852-53 he was scarcely responsible, since its estimate had been prepared by his predecessor in office, Sir Charles Wood. That expenditure he put at over £51,000,000, and he proposed to raise it from the usual sources of indirect taxation* From the calculations he had made there would be, without the income tax, a deficit of over £2,000,000; he would, therefore, ask for a continuance of the duties on property and income for a limited period, which would leave him a surplus of some £500,000. Then, in conclusion, he expressed the views of the cabinet as to the principles upon which the public revenue should be raised. He looked with great apprehension upon the opinions prevalent in the House of Commons, which seemed opposed to all the great sources of raising the income of the country. He considered that nothing would be more injurious than rashly and rapidly to reduce the sources of indirect taxation, whilst they had come to no general conclu¬ sion as to the principles upon which direct taxation should be levied. He was of * The estimated expenditure for the current year, ending in April, 1853, was £51,163,979, viz.:— Debts and charges on Consolidated Fund,.£30,550,000 Army,. 6,491,893 Navy (including Packet Service), . 6,493,000 Ordnance,. 2,437,000 Civil Estimates,. 4,182,086 Caffre War,. 660,000 Militia,. 350,000 Total,.£51,163,979 The sources of supply were estimated as follows:— Customs,. Excise,. Stamps, ......... Taxes,. Property tax (half a year), . . . Post Office,. Woods,. Miscellaneous,. Old Stores,.- £20,572,000 14,604,895 6,339,000 3,090,000 2,600,000 938,000 235,000 260,000 400,000 Total income, .... £49,038,895 opinion that, if the House continued in that mood of mind, it would be impossible to maintain the revenue of the country in the manner which the public credit and the wants of their national establishments required. It was absolutely necessary that the House of Commons should arrive at some definite understanding on what prin¬ ciple the revenue of the country should be raised. Nothing was more pernicious than the systematic reduction of indirect taxation that had been going on, whilst at the same time direct taxes were being levied from a very limited class. “ Sir,” said the chan¬ cellor of the exchequer, addressing the chairman, “ we would not have shrunk from undertaking the laborious effort of exam¬ ining the whole of our financial system, animated by these views and actuated by this purpose. But I put it with confidence to the committee whether it has been possible for us to undertake a duty which demands labour so patient, research so considerable, and an amount of time which no member of the government, I am sure, has yet been able to devote to it. The committee will, I am sure, recollect that it is only two months since Her Majesty’s present govern¬ ment acceded unexpectedly to office, . . and although the indulgence of the House, of which no person can be more sensible than myself, has assisted me in attempting to conduct the business of this House, still the claims of the House and of my depart¬ ment have, I can assure the committee, rendered it physically impossible for me to embark in such an undertaking.” Thus, practically, Mr. Disraeli’s budget was framed upon the lines of the Liberal policy. He had no alternative. He dis¬ approved of the income tax, yet he felt bound to impose it; he disapproved of the systematic reduction of indirect taxes, yet he had to submit to it; he found in the pigeon holes of the treasury a budget ready to his hand, and time had been wanting to manipulate it into a more Conservative measure. He had said nothing as to Pro¬ tection, and throughout his speech, with a 20 VOL. I. 154 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD manly candour which refuted many of his former protestations, he admitted that free trade had not caused the revenue of the country to decrease. Still, as we shall see from the budget he, towards the end of the year, laid before the country, and which was his own measure, and not, as it were, a compulsory adaptation of the scheme of a Liberal cabinet, he was loyal to the interests whose claims he had always advocated. “Disraeli has this evening,” writes Lord Palmerston, “made a good financial state¬ ment. His speech of two hours was excel¬ lent, well arranged, clear, and well delivered, but it made out the complete success of the financial and commercial measures of the last ten years of the Peel and of the Whig administration. . . . He was vociferously cheered by Liberals and Peelites, but listened to in sullen silence by supporters of the government. . . . He has entirely thrown over the idea of import duty on corn—or in other words the principle of Protection.” There is some exaggeration in this statement. In the first place, as we shall prove, he was not listened to in sullen silence by his own party, for his words were cordially approved of by those sitting on the Tory side of the House. Nor was his throwing over the principle of Protection an act of recent conversion, as Lord Palmerston’s remarks would imply. During the last three years Mr. Disraeli had, as we have shown by his frequent utterances, maintained the im¬ practicability of resorting to a duty on corn in a crowded island like our own, where the home-grown wheat was not in proportion to the demands of the population. He had abandoned the principle of Protection so far as the necessaries of life were con¬ cerned, and instead of Protection he had substituted compensation: the interests that had specially suffered, he asserted, should be specially compensated. He was in favour, as he more than once declared in the House of Commons, of free trade, but not of “ one-sided free trade.” The speech he delivered on this occa¬ sion was undoubtedly a great success. Sir Charles Wood—and there was little love lost between the late chancellor of the exchequer and his successor in office—declared that he concurred not only in the course which Mr. Disraeli proposed, but in most of the obser¬ vations addressed by that gentleman to the House. He considered that the financial statement of Mr. Disraeli had afforded the most ample testimony to the success of the Liberal commercial policy during the last ten years. “A more triumphant case,” said Sir Charles, “I do not wish to see made out, than that which the right hon. gen¬ tleman has made for us to-night; and I trust that from his evidence—unsuspicious as it is—honourably and candidly as it has been given—the country will come to the conclusion that this is the proper policy that has been and ought to be pursued by past and future finance ministers in this country. ... I feel that there is no necessity for me to make any statement on this occasion. I thank the right hon. gentleman for the bold manner in which he has spoken out on our financial condition. I am grateful to him for the kind manner in which he has expressed himself towards me personally. I thank him for the cordial estimate which he has formed of the success of our late policy; I take it as an augury that no change will be attempted to be made. I approve of the course which he intends to take for the ensuing year; and so far as depends upon me—and I trust I may add the House—every facility will be given him to pass his resolution with the least possible delay.” Mr. Hume was less generous and more critical. He agreed with Mr. Disraeli in denouncing all the exemptions allowed under the income-tax; yet he was much surprised that the measure, which had been branded by the chancellor of the exchequer as unjust, was to be continued. Still, as a free trader, he thanked Mr. Disraeli; for, if ever there was a speech which proved the truth of the principles of free trade, it was the speech of the hon. member for Bucks. It was highly AND HIS TIMES. 155 creditable to the right lion, gentleman, that he should have stated the truth in the way he had done. He hoped that Mr. Disraeli looked back with regret and remorse on his past career, and the manner in which Sir Robert Peel had been persecuted. Yet, he was not one of those who would now cast back those taunts upon the right hon. gentleman; on the contrary, he would give credit to any man who, finding that he had been in error, had the manliness to come forward and state his conviction. As to the future, he wished to see the income tax made equal, and all exemptions removed, and the people relieved from the burden of indirect taxation. But Mr. Disraeli had proposed to do nothing. The present budget was a stand-still budget; it did nothing but continue the present burdens upon the country. He was sorry to disturb the general unanimity of feeling by being the only person to express dissatisfaction; but he was dissatisfied, because he thought that the people had a right now to expect some relief from taxation. Mr. Baring, who was a great authority in the House upon commercial matters, praised the prudence of the chancellor of the exchequer in framing a “stand-still budget,” when he was not sure what might be the future expenditure of the country. The free traders had been very jubilant; but he considered that Mr. Disraeli had taken too bright a view of the result of the late commercial legislation. He considered that the financial prosperity of the country was due more to the imposi¬ tion of the property and income tax than to the principles of free trade. Without that tax which, though imposed to meet a pressing emergency, was continued for other purposes, they would never have been without a deficiency at airy one period, or have attained their present position. Nor did he see that, after all their reductions in the excise and customs duties, they could yet dispense with it. The Liberals declared that they had taken off £10,000,000 of taxes; but that was not the case, for the income tax had extracted, during the last ten years, £4,500,000 yearly from the pockets of the nation; of course, with that impost always ready to hand, the Liberals could afford every now and then to give a little in the way of remission of taxes. “ If you pick my pocket,” said Mr. Baring, “of £5 a year, at the end of ten years you may make me a present of £10, and may give me £1 or £2 occasionally in the meanwhile, but let the debtor and creditor account be taken, and what would be the result ? Let the House take into consideration what the country had paid in taxation by the property tax, and he should be very much surprised if it was not found that the increase of remission was not so great as had been supposed. He did not mean to say that they would not show an increase; but the remission of £10,000,000 had only taken place for a year, while the imposi¬ tion of £5,000,000 dated ten years ago.” He did not think the general prosperity of the country so great as had been sup¬ posed, whilst certain interests—the colonial, the shipping, and the agricultural—were in anything but a state of prosperity. He concluded by praising the chancellor of the exchequer, “ who had a mind which could grapple with anything, nor did he fail to ornament, elucidate, and enforce whatever he grappled with. The House had that night had the exhibition of the greatest talent and genius applied to the practical concerns of the administration of the country.” From both sides of the House there was but one opinion as to the lucid and well-marshalled speech of the new chan¬ cellor of the exchequer. Mr. Gladstone congratulated Mr. Disraeli on his “very able statements,” which he had laid before the country “in a manner highly honourable to him, and in a manner peculiarly his own.” Mr. Bright “would say honestly that he participated most largely in the satisfaction generally expressed, not with the manner only, but with the matter of the right hon. gentleman’s speech.” Mr. Labouchere had 156 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD listened to it “ with deep satisfaction,” and rejoiced to see a man of such unquestioned talent filling so high a position. Mr. Muntz declared that “during the twelve years’ that he had sat in parliament he had never heard anything more able or lucid.” Equally complimentary, as was to be ex¬ pected, were the remarks of those who sat on the Conservative side of the House. Sir John Tyrell, who represented Essex, denied that the Conservatives, as Mr. Hume had alleged, had listened with long, gloomy countenances to the speech of the chancellor of the exchequer. The statement of Mr. Disraeli was altogether a provisional state¬ ment, and the budget a provisional budget. The free traders were unnecessarily elated. It did not follow, because the finances of the country were in a satisfactory state, that the commerce and trade of the country were equally so. It could not be denied that trade was bad; still, a satisfactory statement from the chancellor of the ex¬ chequer was perfectly compatible with the existence of great distress in various parts of the country. After the next election controverted points would be settled. The Conservatives did not make war upon commerce, but on the unjust taxation of the country; and when they spoke of Protection, they referred to the redress of grievances. Mr. Alderman Thompson, who had sat in the House thirty-two years, declared that he had never heard a more clear financial statement. In spite of the taunting references from the Liberals to the free-trade tendencies of the chan¬ cellor of the exchequer, he understood that Mr. Disraeli preferred that the revenue should be raised by indirect taxation; and therefore he supposed the whole system of taxation would be reconsidered, and relief be given where relief was needed. Mr. Hudson, who represented the shipping interest of Sunderland, rose up to state that the chancellor of the exchequer, in speaking of the prosperity of the country, had not contended that it was owing to free trade. He had not put it upon that principle at all: he merely stated a fact. Mr. Hudson, therefore, reminded the House that, before free trade existed, the country had enjoyed as much pros¬ perity as it now had, and that money was quite as cheap in the market; whilst the shipping, the colonial, and agricultural interests were then not, as now, depressed and half ruined. Other speakers took the same tone. The House was evidently in a generous mood. Considering that Mr. Disraeli, whenever the opportunity offered, seldom spared his opponents, it was somewhat remarkable that more was not made out of what party spirit might have construed into a recantation of opinion. Mr. Hume, it is true, had said that “ the chancellor of the exchequer stood now in the same situation in which Sir Robert Peel stood after he first introduced those important changes in our financial and commercial system ;” but that he would not pursue the matter farther, and unnecessarily wound the right hon. gentleman’s feelings. Mr. Reynolds, in the course of his speech, said that if Sir Robert Peel, when he repealed the corn laws, had “ found the Whigs bathing and ran away with their clothes,” Mr. Disraeli in his turn, by his financial statement, had found Sir Charles Wood napping, and had run away with his budget. Mr. Wakley, the member for Finsbury, after declaring that the state¬ ments made by Mr. Disraeli only proved how sound were the principles of the free traders, and how completely they vindicated the course Sir Robert Peel had pursued, cried out, “ Would to God Sir Robert Peel had been alive to listen to the elaborate and profound homage paid to him by the chancellor of the exchequer in the expo¬ sition of the facts that he had submitted to the House to-night! Homage of a more exalted character, or more calculated to increase the admiration of the country for the memory of that great statesman, was never made either in a senate or any other assembly.” With the exception of these AND HIS TIMES. 157 allusions to the past conduct of Mr. Dis¬ raeli, the debate was singularly free from personalities—indeed, it was characterized by a geniality, a forbearance, and a chivalrous tone not always apparent in the proceed¬ ings of the House of Commons. The reso¬ lutions introduced by the chancellor of the exchequer were unanimously agreed to. A few nights after this financial state¬ ment had been made, the ministers were invited to a banquet in the city, presided over by the lord mayor. Their reception was most cordial; and as the host rose to give the toast of the evening—“ the health of Her Majesty’s ministers”—his good wishes for the prosperity of the cabinet were warmly re-echoed. Lord Derby re¬ plied. His speech was listened to with deep attention, for a rumour had got abroad that he had not been well pleased with the statements of his lieutenant, and that he intended to take the first public opportunity that offered to show the country that the principle of Protection had not been aban¬ doned. There was nothing in his matter to create excitement until he came to his closing remarks. “Not many days have elapsed,” said Lord Derby, “ since a right hon. friend of mine, in a speech which fully and amply refuted the unworthy notion that a man of wit and genius cannot grapple with the ordinary details of statistics—that a man possessing high ability, a vivid • imagination, and great eloquence cannot master the driest commercial and financial topics — most ably and most eloquently demonstrated to an admiring House of Commons the great progress which our trade and commerce have made in recent years. . . . There was one point, how¬ ever, which my right hon. friend in that able speech did not touch upon, and properly did not touch upon, because it did not belong to the fiscal and financial branch of the subject to which his attention was then properly and exclusively devoted. But although he did not touch upon that topic, it is one which I conceive no government. ought t^ lose sight of in estimating the social and political condition of the country —namely, not only the prosperity and the advancement of commerce, but the effect which may be produced on the condition in which we may find those large classes which, unconnected with commerce, are yet an element of our strength as being mainly producers, though they are also consumers. My lord, a government charged with the administration of the affairs of this country would ill deserve the confidence of any portion of the people, if it confined to the interests of a single class the attention which is due to all, or if it deprived a single class of that share of its attention which it is bound impartially to afford to all; and the problem which every government has to solve is—how to reconcile apparently conflicting interests, so that while giving no undue advantage to one class of our fellow-citizens over another, it may pro¬ mote the interests of all, and by mutual concessions, and by mutual compromises, may blend the interests of all in one harmonious whole.” When the press circulated these words throughout the country considerable agita¬ tion arose. What was meant by “ mutual concessions and mutual compromises ? ” How were the interests of all to be blended in one harmonious whole ? The chancellor of the exchequer was in favour of indirect taxation and opposed to direct taxation; were the government then about to return to Protection ? These questions were freely asked on all sides. The Peelites and the free traders took alarm, and once more the League held its meetings and stimulated its spokesmen. Humour drew a cartoon, in which it summed up the situation. The scene was Epsom. Lord Derby was hold¬ ing a confidential conversation with his trainer, whilst two horses, labelled respec¬ tively “ Protection ” and “ Free Trade,” with their jockeys up, were seen curvetting about on the course. “ Which do you declare to win with, my lord ? ” asks Mr. Punch. CHAPTER Y III. ON SUFFERANCE. On meeting parliament in his new capacity as chancellor of the exchequer, Mr. Dis¬ raeli had laid before the House of Commons the business necessary to be gone through before the cabinet recommended a dis¬ solution. He had said, apart from the proceedings indispensable for the supply of Her Majesty’s service, that there were three measures of paramount importance —the militia bill, chancery reform, and the distribution of the four forfeited seats consequent upon the disfranchise¬ ment of Sudbury and St. Albans—which he desired to see speedily enrolled upon the statute-book. The militia bill had already been brought before the House; chancery reform was in the hands of the lord chancellor; thus the assignment of the forfeited seats was the only one of the three measures which had as yet not been presented for discussion. To Mr. Disraeli this question of redistribution was now intrusted. Sudbury had been disfranchised in 1844, St. Albans but recently. Each borough had returned two members to par¬ liament; thus there were four seats now vacant and ready to be offered to boroughs and competing divisions of shires. In a full house Mr. Disraeli moved (May 10, 1852) “That leave be given to bring in a bill to assign the seats forfeited by the disfranchisement of the boroughs of St. Albans and Sudbury.” He was of opinion, he said, that those seats should be filled up before the dissolution of parliament took place. He was as unable to define the magic in that particular number 658 as he was to prove why twelve should be the number fixed for that tribunal which was the most popular in the country.* The foundation of all these arrangements was prescription; prescription which consisted of rules created by experi¬ ence and sanctioned by custom. Prescrip¬ tion was, after all, the most important element of order, of liberty, and of progress; and although he was not inclined to yield to that principle any superstitious ad¬ herence, he was still of opinion that the time was not arrived when prescription could be lightly treated by a House of Commons. The inconvenience of outraging such a principle was more easy to compre¬ hend than it was to establish the peculiar arrangement in question. A violation of prescription was an element of disturbance; it led to discontent; it offered a premium to extravagant projects; it invited men to immature schemes and hazardous sugges¬ tions ; and were it for no other reason than that he felt it would be their duty to warn the House against that which had become a continuous and systematic deficiency in the aggregate numbers of the House of * The number of the members for the House of Commons stands thus: — For England and Wales,. . .... 493 Scotland,.60 (Before 1832, 45 ; after 1832, 53). Ireland,.105 (Before 1832, 100). - Total,.658 From Edward I. to Henry VIII., the House of Commons consisted of 74 knights and about 200 burgesses. Henry VIII. extended the right of election to Wales and to certain counties and towns in England, and increased the number of members by thirty-three. Between the reigns of Henry VIII. and Charles II., no less than 180 members were added to the House by royal charter alone. At the date of the union with Scotland the number of members was 513. The Act of union with Scotland added forty-five representa¬ tives of that kingdom, afterwards increased to sixty. The Act of union with Ireland made a further addition to the House of 100 Irish members, afterwards increased to 105. As we shall see, from the nature of Mr. Gladstone’s remarks in reply to Mr. Disraeli, there is no constitutional limit to the number of members of the House of Commons. THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD AND HIS TIMES. 159 Commons. Deeply convinced of the incon¬ venience and of the peril of indulging in » that continuous and systematic deficiency in their numbers, Her Majesty’s ministers had felt it their duty to express that opinion to the House. If the government, continued Mr. Disraeli, followed their own inclinations, he hardly knew any subject which they would more freely avoid than the settlement of questions like the present. They were essentially in¬ vidious. In old days, whenever questions concerning the appropriation of vacant seats were introduced, party passions were neces¬ sarily excited. In a country where the government was carried on by the machinery of political party, it was scarcely possible to offer a suggestion for the settlement of a question of the kind, without, of course, the imputation of political motives, and perhaps without the possibility of political bias. But at the present day, a ministry that attempted to recommend to the House measures for the settlement of such ques¬ tions, had not merely to encounter the ancient and traditionary sentiments of opposite parties. Of late years another element had entered into the discussion of these subjects, which tended peculiarly to embitter feelings, to create jealousies, and to increase difficulties; and that was the unhappy misunderstanding between town and country, which he, for one, notwith¬ standing all that had passed, hoped yet might be of shorter duration than some persons were disposed to believe. That unfortunate jealousy which existed between town and country had given rise to an anxiety in a very considerable portion of the country, to see whether other elements wherewith to form a constituency might not be devised than those which had hitherto supplied elements of the electoral body. He had seen many plans which, if they were carried into effect, would send members to parliament by means entitled in every way to their respect, but other than those which were generally had re¬ course to. It had been proposed that two of the members for the vacant seats should be apportioned to the University of London. He could truly say that that proposition had not been viewed by Her Majesty’s ministers with any sort of prejudice: it had, on the contrary, been observed with interest and with sympathy. He could admire the idea that would permit science and learning, by the immediate exercise of the popular suffrage, to take their place in that House, without the embarrassment of political connection, and without the in¬ conveniences of party passions. But when that question was examined the difficulties were not inconsiderable. In all suggestions which would lay down as a principle that the elements of their constituent body should be of a less absolutely material character than heretofore—that the intellectual and the moral qualities should be permitted to exercise their influence on that House without a necessary connection with poli¬ tical party—in all those suggestions there was something so plausible to the reason, and so captivating to the imagination, that he could easily understand that they had excited a great public interest, and engaged the approbation of many individuals who were entitled to the highest respect. Sug¬ gestions had been made, for example, that it would be desirable that the learned societies, for which that metropolis was celebrated, should furnish a member or members to that House; and, at the first glance, remembering who would probably be among the members thus deputed to that House, it must be admitted to be a proposition highly deserving of their examination. Take the Royal Society, for example. It was a very ancient society. It was founded by a monarch. It had been adorned from the days of Sir Isaac Newton by some of the greatest men whom England had produced. And at that moment it counted among its members some of their fellow-subjects of whom they were most proud. But the House must remember that, when they talk of the 160 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD learned societies, in the nineteenth century learned societies no longer necessarily con¬ sisted of learned men. The necessity of haying a large revenue, and of raising that revenue by public subscriptions, permitted a great number of individuals to be enrolled among learned societies who had no other claim to that distinction than that which was conferred by their wealth and the general respectability of their character. They would not necessarily, therefore, be¬ cause they delegated to the learned societies the privilege of sending a member or members to parliament, have a constituency formed of learned men. Another difficulty in the case was to draw the line, if once they admitted a principle so fluctuating in its elements. If the Royal Society—he took that as the oldest and the most distinguished—was entitled to have a representative in that House on the ground that that society itself was a representative of science, there were many other societies who might also assume to represent science. Why, if they admitted the Royal Society, on what principle could they shut out the Geographical Society, or the Zoological Society, or the Astronomical Society ? And if they were to take all those societies, and say that by aggregating them together they should form a consid¬ erable constituency to whom collectively should be given a representative in parlia¬ ment, what would prevent new geographical societies, new zoological societies, and new astronomical societies being formed to¬ morrow, which might urge their claim to the possession of the franchise on the same plea ? In fact it was evident that, dealing with the materials before them, it would be in the power of any body of men— any club, for example—to give themselves a scientific designation, to affect scientific pursuits, and to make that a claim for the exercise of the franchise. Therefore, on examining the claims of the learned societies to that privilege, he felt that the difficulties were too great for the government to overcome, and they had consequently reluctantly dismissed them from consideration. There was then, proceeded Mr. Disraeli, the claim of the universities which were not represented to consider. That appeared at the first blush to be an extremely plausible plea. The ancient universities of England were represented—the University of Dublin was represented—why then, for example, should not the Scotch universities be repre¬ sented ? But any one who had investigated the question, who had looked into the condi¬ tion of the Scotch universities, with every wish to recommend such a measure to the House, would find that the elements of a popular constituency were totally wanting; that in the Scotch universities, for instance, there was no body like the Convocation of their English universities; that they had students who never, or rarely ever, became graduates; that there was no privilege an¬ nexed in Scotland to the taking out of an academic degree, and that therefore it was seldom that any individual took a degree. If, then, they invested the united universities of Scotland with the privilege of being repre¬ sented in that House, the privilege would, in fact, be in possession of a few rectors, and about a hundred professors. The ele¬ ments of a popular constituency were altogether wanting.* Nor could he notice the claim of the London University, as at present that university was too immature, its development too imperfect, for urging any well-founded claim of the nature then in question. There had also been, he said, another proposition made, which possessed many causes why it should be entertained with the deepest consideration. The government had been urged to recommend to the House to concede, at least, one member to the Inns of Court. The four Inns of Court would, no doubt, afford a considerable and most respectable constituency—a constituency of some thousands arising from corporations * In 1858 a measure was introduced which conferred on Scottish graduates no little share in the administration of their respective universities. AND HIS TIMES. 1G1 that had existed from immemorial ages, that had taken a distinguished part in the history of that country, and which had sent to that House some of its most eminent members. The government considered it as no objection to that plan, that an eminent lawyer, by the confidence of the Inns of Court, might find his way into that House without the taint of political or party connection. The government thought that, in an age favourable to legal reform, for example, it was very possible that the appreciation of his fellow- lawyers might select some student who would otherwise shrink from the coarser collisions of public life on the hustings, and yet might take his place in the House of Commons as the representative of a constituency of some thousands of honour¬ able and learned men, and afford by his erudition and his counsel a very great assistance to the deliberations of that House. But, after giving to the question the most deliberate and the most anxious consideration, the government found it impossible to avoid the conclusion that it would be a hopeless task to propose to the House of Commons the allocation of one or two members to the Inns of Court, unless prepared to concede the same privi¬ lege to other similar constituencies. He knew, he said, there was a prejudice— which he did not share—against the too considerable appearance of lawyers in that House. He begged to say that he did not share it, because he remembered how much of their liberty "was owing to their law, and was founded upon their law, and that in the most critical periods of their history, lawyers had been the most eminent and fearless champions of the rights of the people of England. He confessed he was surprised, therefore, at the existence of a prejudice such as that, to which, however, he must most reluctantly yield. It was one he had always deplored, one which he could never cease to lament, when he recollected that lawyers had been not only the great upholders of English liberties, but also the greatest VOL. i. ornaments of the House of Commons; when he remembered that Sir Edward Coke and Lord Bacon both sat in that House; when he remembered that the revered names of Selden and of Somers both belonged to the House of Commons; that in an after age that House resounded with the golden elo¬ quence of Mansfield, and was once adorned by the majestic virtues of Romilly; and that it was their happiness to remember that amongst their members the esteemed descendants of some of those great men were still to be found. But though he could not agree in a prejudice which he thought unwarranted by facts, he felt it would not do for the government to pro¬ pose, unless the proposition were attended by some identical or analogous projects, to allot one or more of the four vacant seats to the Inns of Court; therefore, on the part of the government, after careful considera¬ tion, and with the most ample desire to introduce constituencies founded upon those elements, and believing that they might contribute to the increased reputation of that assembly, he must renounce at present any attempt to form a constituency out of those interesting but, he feared, impracti¬ cable elements. Having, therefore, considered the various suggestions that had been laid before him, Mr. Disraeli said he would now proceed to state how the government proposed to deal with the four forfeited seats. The constituency of the West Biding of York¬ shire was about 37,000 ; and they proposed to apportion two of the vacant seats to that constituency, dividing the West Biding into two districts, each of which should be represented by two members. Leeds was to be the town of election for the northern division of the riding; and Wakefield the election town for the southern division. The two remaining seats were to be given to the southern division of the county of Lancashire. There was no discussion on the motion. The only opponent was Mr. Gladstone, who, in a long speech, criticised less the 21 162 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD details of Mr. Disraeli’s measure than the expediency of introducing it at the present moment. He disputed the statement that the House of Commons was limited to any “ constitutional number.” There was no “magic” nor “cabalistic” virtue in the total “658.” There was nothing beyond mere accident, and the duration of about forty years, that should recommend the number 658 to their notice. There was a popular error on that subject—there was, he believed, an idea in the popular mind that the number 658 represented the great balance of interests in that country. Yet, he would challenge Mr. Disraeli to find that number distinctly stated in any one single act of parliament relating to the representation of the people in that House. The number 658 was never intended to be the legal and constitutional number which composed the House of Commons. It was a pure question of convenience and policy, and nothing else, as to what the number of members of that House should be. Still, that was merely a secondary matter. The question was, was it wise to bring forward such a measure in a moribund parliament ? The eve of a dissolution was the worst possible moment to introduce a proposal of that kind. The forfeited seats ought not to be held up to the country as prizes for every man to snatch at. The matter ought to be discussed and settled, not in an unsettled and provisional state of things like the present, but when they had an administration in possession of definite and decided political power. He would not meet the proposal by a direct negative, but would move that the House pass to the “orders of the day.” On a division, the amendment of Mr. Gladstone was accepted by a majority of eighty-six. It was not until some years later that these forfeited seats were dealt with. In 1861 the govern¬ ment of Lord Palmerston accepted, to a certain degree, the proposals of Mr. Disraeli. Two seats were then given to the West Riding of Yorkshire; but, instead of South Lancashire being divided, a third member was placed at the disposal of the county, and the town of Birkenhead was enfran¬ chised. This rejection of Mr. Disraeli’s scheme was not so much directed against the measure itself, as it was against the gov¬ ernment declining at once to appeal to the country. The burning question of the hour was, whether Protection or free trade was to be the commercial policy of the future. Lord Derby had himself said, on taking office, that he would abide by the verdict of the nation as to the maintenance or rejection of free-trade principles. Why, then, did he not dissolve parliament ? It was an unheard of thing, cried the Liberals, for men who had made Protection a battle- cry for years, to take office, and then to refuse to state openly whether they intended to propose an alteration in the corn laws or not! The game of thimble-rig was about to be played, and the country gulled and plundered under a thimble-rig administra¬ tion ! The Conservatives were keeping matters dark, in order at the election to canvass the counties as Protectionists and the boroughs as free traders ! “ It was in vindication of the constitu¬ tional principle,” said Mr. Gladstone, “ that a government which found itself at issue with the existing parliament upon a cardinal point of its policy, was bound either to resign (which of course no one recommends under the circumstances) or else to make its appeal to the people. But there was another object which parliament, I think, had in view; and that was, to discharge its solemn duty to those great principles of commercial policy which we are bound, I think, to see well brought home into haven, and that at the earliest moment. It is a folly against which every man ought to guard, to sup¬ pose that because the government are in power, and the principles of our law in regard to commerce have not been altered by past measures, therefore we are to rest satisfied. It would be, I think, no fulfil¬ ment, but an abandonment of our duty, to AND HIS TIMES. 163 be contented that the matter should so remain. It has been admitted on the other side, that it is the solemn duty of us all to bring this question to a formal and final issue; and that can only be done, as the head of the government stated, and all its members, I believe, have allowed, by an appeal to the people at a dissolution; and therefore, in seeking a dissolution, it is not for any partial or party object, but it is because, if there be one duty more clearly incumbent than another at the present time upon that large majority of the House of Commons who have on repeated occasions testified their own cordial adhesion to the principles of free trade, it is this—that they should not be content to leave those princi¬ ples to exist upon sufferance—to leave them at the mercy of the chapter of accidents; that they should not be content (I frankly own it) to leave these principles, as matters now stand, in the guardianship of gentlemen whose own inclinations, without doubt or disguise, are opposed to them, but that we should expedite that process which the prime minister himself has justly and fairly proposed—namely, that of obtaining the deliberate judgment of the constituency in regard to,the principles of our commer¬ cial legislation; and then we should find the government in a position to lay down the course of policy by which they intend to be guided, and, if they find the opinion of the public adverse to the policy they had pursued, they might frankly and finally own and submit to that state of facts; so that, at length, this great controversy may be ended, and the machinery of the consti¬ tution fall into its usual course and order.” A wit in the House of Commons was asked, What was meant by “ factious oppo¬ sition?” “Wait till you see the Liberals out of office,” he quietly replied. Lord Derby declined to be dictated to. He had said, on taking office, that for his own part he thought that the appeal to the constituencies ought to be made as speedily as was consistent with the interests of the country; but at the same time he declared that neither taunts nor calumnies would induce him to recommend a dissolution sooner than he thought expedient. He had assumed, he would not say office, but its responsibilities, from no party motive of his own; the late government fell by their internal weakness, by their notorious inca¬ pacity, by the lukewarmness of their friends, and by their own quarrels. They had de¬ clared a dissolution inexpedient for them¬ selves, and he wished to know with what face they now came forward in factious opposition, and sought to drive him to appeal to the country, after his declaration that the system of free trade should not be altered during the present session, but that the attention of the government would be solely directed to those great measures of legal and social reform on which the heart of the nation was set. If the business of the country were factiously interrupted, the evil that might result would be visited on the heads of those agitators who created the interruption. Though he desired to repair the injustice which certain classes of the community had sustained by the repeal of the corn laws, such a step could only be taken after careful deliberation, and then not by a bare majority, but after an expres¬ sion of very general concurrence on the part of the country. The question he would then put before the country would be, “Will you give your confidence to the men who deserted the helm of the state in the hour of danger, and then joined in factious oppo¬ sition to render all government impossible ? Or will you rely on the government which did not shrink from the post of danger, which is determined to uphold the Protes¬ tant religion, to strengthen religious and moral education, to resist the aggression of those demagogues who employ their power over the masses only to mislead them, and to maintain the prerogatives of the crown and the privileges of parliament? These were the principles on which he should appeal to the country; he would then use the words put into the mouth of the mean¬ est criminal, but not unworthy of the first 1G4 THE EARL OF BEACONSFIELD minister of the Crown, ‘ I elect to be tried by God and my country/ ” In the present conflict of opinions, and owing to the expeditious manner in which the government had conducted the public business intrusted to them, the time for dissolving parliament was rapidly approach¬ ing. Mr. Disraeli, therefore, thought the hour opportune to inform his constituents of what had occurred in the past, and what was about to take place in the future. He utilised the leisure of the Whitsuntide recess in drawing up an important document addressed to his supporters. We give it in full, as since the date of its first issue it has never been republished:— “Gentlemen, — I take the opportunity of re¬ turning into the county to inform you that on the dissolution of parliament, which may be shortly expected, I shall again solicit the distinguished office of being your member—an honour which you have twice unanimously conferred on me. “The occasion is critical, and it is as well to disentangle from the misrepresentations of igno¬ rant or interested persons what is really at stake. “ In 1842 Sir Robert Peel, at the head of the Conservative party, converted a considerable and continuous deficiency in the public revenue into a surplus by the imposition of an income tax, which also permitted him greatly to mitigate our tariff. ' 3 tn ta £'-3 a o •H •4^ *02