[94:B] Particularly his eloquent and manly "Appeal to the Parliament of Great Britain, on the case of the Emperor Napoleon."

The inhuman conduct pursued towards the captive emperor at length became the subject of parliamentary inquiry. A motion to this effect was introduced to the House of Peers by Lord Holland, in the month of March, 1817. Of the motives by which this n.o.ble lord was actuated, it is difficult to award sufficient praise. He declared, "My chief motive in bringing forward this motion is to rescue parliament and the country from the stain that will attach to them, if any harsh or ungenerous treatment has been used towards Napoleon." Such an anxiety for the character of his country was, doubtless, a patriotic and proper motive; but it never ought to claim precedence of the great, permanent, and universal feelings of pity for the unfortunate, which are among the n.o.blest characteristics of our nature. His lordship, therefore, might have insisted more upon the merit of a motive to which, on all occasions, he has shewn himself to be eminently ent.i.tled. That the praiseworthy object of Lord Holland's motion was not attained must be matter of deep regret to every man who wishes to maintain the reputation of his country. But the ministers shuffled over the charge by reading partial extracts from those doc.u.ments which his lordship wished to have produced, while they refused an examination of the entire papers. This, to say the least of it, had a very suspicious appearance. Such a mode of proceeding was contrary to the long-established usages of the House, to the laws of evidence, and to the common course of practice in all investigation; and, however it might answer Lord Castlereagh's purpose, was little calculated to dispel the doubts of impartial inquirers, or to make a satisfactory case to the world and to posterity. What judgment would a foreigner form of this matter, who might have heard the blessings of our happy administration of justice extolled to the skies?

A captive, the most ill.u.s.trious ever cla.s.sed under that head, complained of the unnecessary rigour of his treatment. A British peer made a motion in parliament to inquire into the truth of these allegations, and for the production of papers connected with and tending to elucidate the subject. The secretary of state contended, that the a.s.sertions of the complainant were groundless, read partial extracts from the papers in question, but refused their entire production, and negatived the motion for them, without a.s.signing any sufficient reason. If Lord Castlereagh thought the inference to be drawn from such a garbled statement would be favourable to his cause, he must have built his logic, not upon the REASON of the matter, but upon the VOTES OF HIS PENSIONED ADHERENTS,--a mode of conclusion not at all uncommon or unnatural to this minister.

His lordship, indeed, considered his conduct to Napoleon as meritorious, on account of that great man having been the enemy of England! But does it follow that, because the uncertain events of war had placed the French emperor in a situation to claim the protection of our laws as a private individual, that his lordship was justified in betraying his misplaced confidence, or in treating him with the same spirit of hostility when he was a helpless captive, as when he was a powerful general arrayed in arms against the whole of Europe? A doctrine, more repugnant to humanity, more dangerous in its consequences to society, cannot be conceived. From what code of morality, or from what system of religion, did his lordship borrow such a principle? Much has been said of Lord Castlereagh's kindness of heart; but what a dark scroll of evidence does the treatment of Napoleon at St. Helena exhibit against such an a.s.sertion! To commiserate a fallen foe, to be moved by the sad spectacle of his fortunes, is the natural propensity and inseparable concomitant of every man possessing "PERSONAL COURAGE," or "KINDNESS OF HEART:"

"The truly brave Will valorous actions prize, Respect a great and n.o.ble mind, Albeit in enemies;"

while to oppress an adversary in your power, whether among nations or individuals, is not only considered _cowardly_, but abject, ungenerous, and savage. There is no circ.u.mstance which reflects so much disgrace on the national character of the Romans as their behaviour to Hannibal. The treatment which he received has been stigmatized as an act of complicated meanness, cruelty, and injustice. In modern times, the case of Napoleon seems most closely to resemble that of Hannibal, both in the splendour of his achievements while he was victorious, and in the sad similitude of fortune after his being defeated and betrayed into the hands of his enemies. It is true that Napoleon did not "play the Roman"

and kill himself, as Hannibal did[97:A]; but a portion of the words which the Carthaginian general used on that occasion might have been aptly repeated by Napoleon, with merely an alteration of names: "The victory which Flamininus gains over a man, disarmed and betrayed, will not do him much honour. This single day will be a lasting testimony of the great degeneracy of the Romans. They have deputed a person of consular dignity to spirit up Prusias impiously to murder one who is his guest!" It is curious to reflect that, in the annals of the world, the same action, according to circ.u.mstances, at one time is a crime,--at another, an act of heroism! The same man is at one time a Claudius,--at another, a Marcus Aurelius. Cataline is but a vile conspirator. If, however, he had been able to found an empire, like Caesar, he would have been esteemed a benefactor. Our Oliver Cromwell was acknowledged till his last hour, and his protection sought by all sovereigns; but after his death, his body was suspended on a gibbet: he only wanted a son like himself to enable him to form a new dynasty. So long as NAPOLEON was fortunate, Europe bowed at his footstool, while the first princes thought it an honour to ally themselves with his family, and to obtain his smile was esteemed a favour. As soon, however, as he fell a prey to treachery, it was pretended that he was nothing more than a miserable adventurer, an usurper, without talent and without courage!

[97:A] Plutarch a.s.signs him three different deaths; but Livy tells us, that Hannibal drank poison, which he always carried about with him, in case he should be taken by surprise.

But, even allowing that any sufficient argument could have been urged for the detention of Napoleon, surely all restraint beyond what was strictly necessary for the security of his person was unjustifiable, and every species of mortification, not only ungenerous, but absolutely criminal. Lord Castlereagh ought, at least, in giving directions for his custody, to have been particularly circ.u.mspect that no real or seeming unkindnesses were exercised against the captive emperor. If the coercive measures adopted were thought necessary, they should have been introduced in a more conciliatory manner, and with every allowance for the irritation and impatience which exile and imprisonment will be sure to produce upon the most apathetic being in creation. But, when we take into consideration the ungentlemanly and ign.o.ble proceedings pursued against Napoleon at St. Helena, can we feel surprised at the bursts of indignation which now and then escaped him at the cowardly conduct of his jailer? That he should have viewed Sir Hudson Lowe as the meanest creature in existence, is not at all to be wondered at; for it appeared as if

"Some demon said, 'Sir Hudson Lowe, Although we've got the dreaded foe, Yet here the question pinches: How shall we crush this mighty man?'

Sir Hudson cried, 'I know the plan; We'll make him DIE BY INCHES!'"

Neither could Napoleon help considering Lord Castlereagh as the "demon"

here alluded to. His lordship had induced him on board a British ship, under the most sacred promises of bringing him over to this country, that he might pa.s.s the remainder of his days under the blessings of our so-much-boasted const.i.tution, as being "the envy and admiration of the whole world!" What milder appellation than "demon," therefore, did his lordship deserve, when, violating every principle of hospitality, he took advantage of Napoleon's faith in such promises, and seized upon the opportunity it afforded him of arresting the emperor as a prisoner of war, and of sending him to a barren rock, far from his wife, child, and friends, to be a prey to an unwholesome climate, and the rude insults of a mean and pitiful man like Sir Hudson Lowe!

"Great G.o.d of war, and was it so That Britons crush'd a fallen foe!

Had Wellington been taken, (And there were chances on that day) Would Bonaparte have used his sway, And left him thus forsaken?"

Indeed, there was once a time when this same Lord Castlereagh might have been taken prisoner by Napoleon, which would most probably have been done, if the French emperor had possessed no loftier ideas of justice and honour than his lordship exhibited. This circ.u.mstance is related by Mr. O'Meara, in Bonaparte's own words, as follows:

"When Castlereagh was at Chatillon with the amba.s.sadors of the allied powers, after some successes of mine, and when I had, in a manner, invested the town, _he was greatly alarmed lest I might seize him_ and make him _prisoner_. Not being accredited as an amba.s.sador, nor invested with any diplomatic character to France, I might have taken him as an enemy. He went to Caulincourt, to whom he mentioned that _he laboured under considerable apprehensions that I should cause violent hands to be laid upon him_, as he acknowledged I had a right to do.

It was impossible for him to get away without falling in with my troops. Caulincourt replied, that as far as his opinion went, he would say that I should not meddle with him; but that he could not answer for what I might do. Immediately after, he (Caulincourt) wrote to me what Castlereagh had said, and his answer. I signified to him in reply, that he was to tell Castlereagh to make his mind easy, and stay where he was: that I would consider him as an amba.s.sador. At Chatillon, (continued Bonaparte) when speaking about the liberty enjoyed in England, Castlereagh observed, in a contemptuous manner, that it was not the thing most to be esteemed in England; that it was an USAGE they were obliged to put up with; but that it had become an abuse, and would not answer for other countries."

It will thus be seen that GRAt.i.tUDE, at least, ought to have prompted different conduct in Lord Castlereagh towards Napoleon; instead of which, the charges brought against Sir Hudson Lowe by Mr. O'Meara were not only deemed unworthy of inquiry, but his lordship actually dismissed the accuser from the British service. Thus a deserving and generous-minded officer was ruined, without even a hearing, for merely attempting to do an act of justice to the exiled Emperor of France! The charges against Sir Hudson Lowe, however, remained the same, and this summary mode of revenge inflicted on Mr. O'Meara was not at all calculated to acquit Lord Castlereagh from sharing in the accusation of wantonly oppressing Napoleon. Could any thing tend more to criminate his lordship than the sudden punishment of the accuser, while in the act of preferring his complaint? Grant that Mr. O'Meara had misconducted himself, and that he had thus given his employer a right to dismiss him, surely he ought not, in common honesty, to have done so till he had first given him every opportunity of making good his charges. His lordship's readiness to stigmatize, and even silence him, in this manner, wore any appearance but that of an honourable anxiety to meet and to defy his adversary. We cannot devote s.p.a.ce sufficient to bring forward the charges of Mr. O'Meara; but the inquirer will find himself amply repaid for his trouble by their perusal. As Sir Hudson Lowe can only be looked upon as a cowardly ruffian, who scrupled not to _execute_ the orders of his superiors in office, however unjust they might be, the real odium of Napoleon's treatment and death must rest upon the government, of which Lord Castlereagh was the most active member. Mr.

O'Meara was appointed medical attendant upon the emperor by this government, and his professional ability and private worth have never been questioned. If Lord Castlereagh, therefore, willed not the death of Napoleon, it was his duty to have removed those causes of complaint which Mr. O'Meara emphatically pointed out "would render Bonaparte's PREMATURE DEATH as inevitable as if it were to take place under the hands of the EXECUTIONER!" The public are aware how fatally this prediction was fulfilled; but the whole evidence of Mr. O'Meara would carry conviction to the mind of any man who had not previously determined to disbelieve truth. Indeed, he has been confirmed in many essential points of his statements by the admissions of either the governor's advocates or the governor himself. One of these advocates stated that Mr. O'Meara was discharged for disobeying orders; but of what nature were those orders? The governor wanted him to act as a spy upon the emperor, and to sign false reports of the state of his health!

Consequently, Mr. O'Meara did indignantly refuse to perform such a base and cruel service; and what man of honour and principle would not have done the same? A refusal of this kind reflects no disgrace upon Mr.

O'Meara, but will rather hand his name down to posterity as one deserving better treatment than he unfortunately experienced.

In contemplating the manifold deprivations to which Napoleon ultimately fell a victim, we cannot help remarking upon one peculiar trait of the human mind,--that of being more moved by fiction than reality; for a tale of imaginary woe will excite more exquisite feeling, more real sympathy, than the severest reverses of fortune which may have occurred in our time, or which may be even present to our view! If Napoleon, for instance, had been an ideal personage, and the history of his life had been made the subject of romance or poetry, what mind so dull but would have moralized upon the vicissitude of human affairs?--what heart so cold but would have felt some commiseration for the captive? But when all that a poet's fancy could have formed and blended of surprising extremes, to raise the interest of the reader in the hero of the tragedy, had actually occurred and been signally manifested in this extraordinary man,--when he, who at one time was raised to an elevation and possessed a power never enjoyed by any other individual, was hurled headlong from his height to the abyss of humiliation, was imprisoned, exiled, captive, and forlorn,--how happened it that the feelings of our nature were not to take their accustomed course, that the sources of sympathy were to be dried up, and compa.s.sion, which had hitherto been considered amongst the most amiable of virtues, was all at once to lose its very essence and property, and not only not to be numbered amongst our weaknesses, but catalogued amongst our crimes? For the prevalence of this disposition,--which, alas! was too observable even among those cla.s.ses in whom education and the intercourse of enlightened society would have naturally led to an expectation of better feelings and sounder conclusions on the subject,--it is difficult to account; unless it be true in morals, as in mechanics, that the motion may be continued when the impulse has ceased, and that to this we must refer the state of national feeling at the time Napoleon was suffering an acc.u.mulation of indignities at St. Helena. Since his death, however, the injustice and inhumanity of his treatment have been freely acknowledged and severely commented on; and there is every reason to believe that his great name will be finally rescued from that misrepresentation which interested writers have endeavoured to surround all his actions.

From the affinity between fear and hatred, there is no wonder that when Napoleon was arrayed as our enemy, we joined hatred with hostility. But, at the time of his seizure on board the Bellerophon, he was no longer formidable; he was then in our hands. Upon what principle, then, did active hatred continue when both hostility and apprehension had ceased?

Did a consciousness of inclemency (to use the mildest term that the occasion will admit) towards the object of it sufficiently account for the continuance of this hatred? It had been better, indeed, if Lord Castlereagh, as well as his coadjutors at that period, who cherished this inextinguishable species of enmity, had considered whether the world and posterity might not be apt to ascribe the meanest and most wicked of motives to such conduct. And let all the detracters of Napoleon recollect, that the illiberal invectives in which they have so freely indulged against him will, instead of making any lasting impression upon his fame, only serve to perpetuate their own disgrace and that of his ign.o.ble persecutors. While his figure will stand conspicuous through history, the crowd of monarchs and ministers, who have alternately crouched to and calumniated, truckled to or trampled upon him, can only escape oblivion as they make the group which shade the back ground of the picture, and give a force, _by forming a contrast_, to the grandeur of the leading figure. Lord Castlereagh will a.s.suredly form one of this back-ground group; but we envy him not in _such fame_. The conduct of his lordship to Napoleon, instead of displaying that dignified sentiment and enlightened understanding which should adorn the character of a n.o.bleman, and which we should naturally be led to expect from a "secretary of state for foreign affairs," has degraded his name to the level of the meanest of the mean. We will not say that we had rather been a chimney-sweeper than have been guilty of his lordship's treachery to Napoleon; but, considering it as a deliberate exposition of the wickedness of his heart and his abandonment of every honourable feeling, which will be put on record, and handed down to posterity, we certainly will say, that all the wealth and t.i.tles of Lord Londonderry, together with his immense political power and the smiles bestowed on him by his despotic patrons, should never have induced us to have done the like.

Would that it were in our power here to close the catalogue of crimes, which are written in characters of blood, against the Marquis of Londonderry. The death of Napoleon was followed by the persecutions of an innocent and n.o.ble-minded WOMAN,--"the injured Queen of England!" But this self-important man had been so hardened in iniquity, that it was by no means a difficult task to persuade him to a.s.sist in her ruin. Her majesty was too well acquainted with the SECRETS OF STATE to be allowed the free exercise of her rights; and as his lordship had lent his a.s.sistance to prevent many of these disreputable secrets from being made public[107:A], self-preservation might have operated as a further inducement for him to enter the lists of her most bitter enemies. How fatally the Marquis of Londonderry and his colleagues succeeded in their diabolical plans have been already explained. But the inglorious triumph added not to his lordship's peace of mind; for, from that period, he was observed to exhibit "a conscience ill at ease." And it was a very remarkable fact, that the marquis should have selected the precise time of the year, only twelve months after, for his own destruction as that in which his royal mistress met her fate! A circ.u.mstance of this singular nature should operate as a great moral lesson for the consideration of mankind generally, though Providence might have designed it as a warning to the "t.i.tled wickedness" of our land. Such is the condition of our nature, that we cannot mortgage either our moral or our physical energies so as always to repel the accusations of our own hearts, which are sure, eventually, to reprove us for evils committed.

"O then beware; Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves: Omission to do what is necessary Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then when we sit idly in the sun!"

On what a slender thread hangs human life, and how worthless are t.i.tles and wealth, if all is not at peace within! On what a "beetling ledge"

the favourite of royalty tracks his uncertain way! By what a fragile tenure the courtier holds the rewards of his servility, on which he is so accustomed to pride himself! The suicide of the gay and puissant Marquis of Londonderry was, indeed, a memento full of lessons of humility to the fawning parasites of power.

[107:A] More particularly the affair of the bondholders. His lordship also strenuously exerted himself to prevent any public inquiry into the cruel death of the Princess Charlotte.

In the October of this year, Mr. Henry Nugent Bell, of whom we have before had occasion to speak, died at his house, Whitehall Place, in the 30th year of his age. This individual merits a little commiseration, notwithstanding the disgraceful part he took in the Manchester murders, and other similar missions of Lord Sidmouth; because, though the tool of despotic ministers, he made some amends to the public by _betraying_ his base employers. The newspapers generally reported his death to have proceeded from a _natural cause_; but this was not the case. We can POSITIVELY state that he died UNFAIRLY; but whether from his own hand, or from the design of an enemy, we are not able to determine. Mr. Bell appears never to have forgiven himself for his dereliction from the path of virtue, and only urged, in extenuation of his conduct, the _cruel necessity_ he was under to oblige his patron. Once enlisted under the banners of Sidmouth, the unfortunate man soon found out the necessity of not being over-scrupulous in his actions. One crime succeeded another; and thus a man of education and talent was made the victim of unjust and diabolical proceedings.

After a great deal of ministerial manoeuvring, Mr. Canning succeeded in his suit for the foreign secretaryship. The situation of the Marquis of Londonderry had long been the darling, though for many years the unattainable, object of this gentleman's intrigues or importunities. The country, however, had no cause to rejoice in the appointment of Mr.

Canning to an office of such conspicuous importance, and many people felt considerable surprise at so unexpected a promotion, as the right honourable gentleman had been previously selected as the new governor-general of India. It was a well-known fact, that Mr. Canning had fallen into personal disgrace with his majesty, and all his vacillating conduct with respect to our ill-treated queen had not been able to restore him to royal favour. There have, however, been instances where a minister has been forced upon the king by public opinion, as was the case with the _first_ Mr. Pitt, in the reign of George the Second.

This Mr. Pitt was in high favour with the PEOPLE of England, acquired through his known attachment to freedom, and through the irresistible ascendency of his upright and unbending character. George the Second, notwithstanding, showed great opposition to the appointment of this worthy man, who was hated by his king _only_ because he feared his politics; yet Mr. Pitt was finally made secretary of state, and proved himself worthy of the popularity with which the PEOPLE had invested him. But the case of Mr. Canning was of a widely different nature. In him, the PEOPLE took no interest, except that which leads all men to watch their enemy's motions. He had not the _honour_ of being disliked at court for his politics,--they were of the most accommodating character; he had given a _personal_ offence to the "first gentleman of the land." By the country, on the other hand, it was his political principles, history, and character, that were held in the most disrepute. Placed in such circ.u.mstances, the public must have been aware that this political adventurer would not be _very patriotic_ in his endeavours to obtain pardon for his crime against the "puissant prince;"

and how far, therefore, such a man could be entrusted with power was a question not difficult to solve. As for the nation generally, they regarded Mr. Canning but in the nature of an HIRED ADVOCATE, retained for the mean purpose of palliating the weaknesses or transgressions of a cabinet, the great majority of whose members he excelled in making witty or fallacious speeches. His countrymen recollected his conduct through life too well to imagine that he was made foreign secretary to introduce any real improvement into the policy or councils of the nation. They felt convinced of his being chosen as the apologist of bad measures, not the author of good ones; and that he held the language of one of Shakespeare's heroes to be good sentiment: "A plague of opinion!--a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin!"

Mr. Canning was, indeed, known to be a fit agent for the "Holy Alliance;" he was the sworn antagonist of every reform in church and state; and wheresoever a grievance or an abuse appeared, there stood he, arrogantly to charge as public enemies all who testified to the existence of either. Even the unfortunate country gentlemen, reduced as they now were, by their blind support of Mr. Canning's system, to a state bordering on pauperism, could hardly have hoped, from such a rooted foe to liberty, for any shadow of relief or of a.s.sistance. "Be quiet, gentlemen," was the self-important style of his addresses, "see what an example the poor have set you; be patient, as they are, and you will soon be prosperous, like me!" From a minister of this description, no consolatory expectations could possibly be formed by any cla.s.s or party. We might certainly look for a few better speeches than Lord Londonderry made; for his were, indeed, but poor maudlin affairs. The new acts would only have a better chance of being varnished over, while we might expect them to be much worse in their nature than they had been; because, as ministers had no intention to reform the system, it must, of necessity, become more vicious every day. The only measure on which Mr. Canning had ever taken any particularly active part, was the emanc.i.p.ation of the Catholics; and our readers will form some opinion of his SINCERITY on this subject, and of the IMPORTANCE which Mr. Canning attached to it, when we inform them that the _honourable_ gentleman actually promised the Earl of Liverpool not to discuss the matter if he might only be allowed to retain the foreign secretaryship! The conduct of the Earl of Liverpool, also, leads to an observation which reflects any thing but honour on the character of his lordship. We know that the power of this premier over the king was omnipotent, owing to his being in possession of SECRETS, of the most vital importance to his majesty and the royal family. By his lordship threatening to be no longer prime minister, he could, at almost any time, have forced his own schemes of policy upon the vitiated court. By the admission of Mr. Canning to office, he had driven his royal master to the wall, and compelled him to do that which all the world had before supposed would have been more unpalatable to his proud feelings than the admission of even the Whigs to office. If Lord Liverpool could, therefore, bring in a minister so personally disliked as Mr. Canning notoriously was by his majesty, could he not also have prevented that odious and atrocious measure, commonly called the "Queen's TRIAL,"--Mr. Canning's declared disapprobation of which created the very difficulty which had just been overcome? That disgraceful proceeding against an injured woman, with all its horrid consequences, it now became indisputably evident, might have been avoided, had Lord Liverpool but only have shown as much pertinacity in the CAUSE OF INNOCENCE as he had now done in that of PARTY. His personal power in the cabinet was, however, much increased by the nomination of Mr. Canning. There was a tacit, though well-understood, separation of interests during the life of Lord Londonderry, who usually headed one division of the ministers, with the Duke of Wellington in the number of the subalterns of his party, while Lord Liverpool led the other wing of Tory pensioners. There was nothing now, therefore, to stand against the first lord of the Treasury, unless Mr. Canning's inveterate spirit of intrigue should possess him (a thing by no means unlikely) to see a rival in his benefactor, and to undermine Lord Liverpool, as he had done one of his former colleagues.

What an enviable opportunity to enter office did this period afford to any man having the real welfare of his country at heart; for all the blessings that had been promised from the "glorious battle of Waterloo,"--that wind-up of a war against the liberties of Europe,--were yet to come: taxation remained undiminished; the liberties of the subject were gradually declining; the commerce of England was almost at an end; and her people poor and unhappy. Here, then, was a wide field for a patriotic minister to display his abilities, by restoring the country to its wonted prosperity! But, while Mr. Canning and his colleagues were indulging in luxury at the expense of the nation, the just complaints of the public were designated "the cries of a faction,"

and the miserable victims of their misrule said to betray an "ignorant impatience" when they prayed for relief. After years of peace, the expenditure of government exceeded the income of the Treasury, and our visionary and delusive system of finance required to be bolstered up by additions to our already overwhelming debt; strength of council was superseded by strength of army; all public discussion, however peaceably conducted, was opposed; acts of coercion were encouraged and abetted; and England, once the pride of nations, became desolated by the worst complication of ignorance and obstinacy that ever disgraced a cabinet!

To whatever department of the state we turned our eyes, the same indifference to its prosperity seemed manifest. The ARMY, preponderating beyond all precedent in time of peace, had become an overgrown source of profligacy and barter; commissions and promotions, instead of being rewards for service and merit, were sold to the best bidder, and the produce applied to pamper the vitiated appet.i.te of royalty. In the NAVY, once our bulwark and our boast, the services of effeminate lordlings seemed more courted than those of bluff and able seamen, commissioners more important than shipwrights, and large expensive establishments kept up on sh.o.r.e, while our fleets were rotting in the docks. Our TRADE was neglected, while pirates infested the seas, and destroyed our merchantmen. In our FOREIGN POLICY, all was danger and uncertainty; the calm of peace was only prolonged by our unexampled apathy and puerile forbearance. Foreign powers owed us money that we dare not demand; nations were struggling for liberty and independence that we must not a.s.sist; and outrages committed that we could not avenge. In the past, a long and sanguinary war, in which were sacrificed an incalculable number of lives and immense treasure; while in the future was exhibited the most dreary prospect of our declining power. At home, our decay was still more apparent: the sacred flame of liberty, to which we were indebted for our preference over other nations, was attacked on all sides by every means that treachery could devise; the malignity of the ministers visited faithful servants with dismissal without inquiry or hearing; the sovereign was recommended and advised to treat his subjects with contumely and neglect; while the const.i.tution itself was a.s.sailed by spies and informers, who first created and abetted the commission of the crimes which they afterwards denounced! This was, indeed, a fearful state of affairs; but history will justify us in the picture we have drawn. Though these and ten thousand other evils were evidently the results of imbecility, folly, and knavery, which had mainly been a.s.sisted by bribery, lavishly bestowed on those who had possessed themselves of those secrets of state recorded in our volumes, yet he who dared to hint at such an unpleasant truth, or even to doubt the honesty of ministers, was sure to be denounced a traitor. But, thank heaven! the power of the Tories now received a check. The manly stand made by a few members of the House of Commons, during the previous session of parliament, had opened the eyes of the long-blinded public, and the late acts of oppression[116:A], with which the Londonderry cabinet had disgraced itself, furnished fresh cause for censure and new inducements for perseverance. The ministry, therefore, which Mr. Canning joined were humbled and degraded before he became one of its members; but, instead of raising it from the disgrace into which it had fallen, his underhanded conduct only aggravated matters, and rendered him a greater object of suspicion to patriotic men than even their avowed enemies.

[116:A] The treatment and death of Napoleon, the funeral of the late queen, the conduct of the ministers and soldiers on that occasion, the murders at c.u.mberland Gate, the dismissal of Sir Robert Wilson for an attempt to stop the scene of bloodshed, formed but a portion of the black catalogue of their misdeeds.

Various royal diversions and exhibitions were displayed throughout this year, and the "first gentleman in the world" was too often made to appear the "first knave on the stage of life." George the Fourth's means had been bestowed so bounteously, that he had become arrogant, and considered THE PEOPLE merely in the light of SLAVES, created only to administer to his pa.s.sions and caprices. He could hardly be said to know the nation, except by the representation of his hirelings. Neither did he care to know the subjects from whom his strength was derived, because they sometimes exhibited more independence than suited his princely ideas of decorum. Indeed, he not unfrequently found the popular voice rather formidable against the attainment of some of his wishes; and it would have been well if parliament had taken a lesson from former and better times in this particular. In the works of our oldest honest historians, we find very plain language used by parliaments to their kings, and the latter generally receiving the sharpest rebukes for their vanity and partiality,--not as designed affronts, but as wholesome chastis.e.m.e.nts. Matthew Paris tells us, when Henry the Third asked for money to defray the expenses of a foreign expedition, "which his people thought did not at all concern England," that his parliament told him, "It was very imprudent in him to ask money for any such purposes, and thereby impoverishing his subjects at home, by his squandering it in idle expeditions, and that they flatly refused supplying him on any such account." Upon thus remonstrating, "that he had engaged his royal word to go abroad in person that year, and that he must have a supply," they asked him, "What has become of all the money your majesty has had already, and how it comes to be lavished without this kingdom being one shilling the better?" But the freedom with which the people treated their sovereigns in those days was not confined to remonstrances. One of the greatest and most victorious of our princes, Edward the First, had an inordinate desire of making, in person, a campaign in Flanders, that he might support a confederacy he had entered into, to reduce the power of France, and had demanded an extraordinary supply for that purpose.

The people, conceiving the quarrel to be very indifferent to England, strongly opposed his leaving the kingdom upon any such idle expedition.

"The people of England," said the parliament, "do not think it proper for you to go to Flanders, unless you can secure out of that country some equivalent, which may indemnify us for the expense." We have a like instance in the reign of that great and powerful king, Henry the Second.

This prince being strongly tempted to make an expedition abroad, in person, became so fond of the proposal that he laid it before his parliament, with a most earnest request for their consent, "it being the sole and darling purpose of his heart!" But his parliament, honest to the people, thought that he had no business abroad, and "that it was much better for him to keep the money at home." Accordingly, the question was put and carried, for "An address to the king to keep within his own dominions, according to his duty." Edward the Third likewise received several mortifications of the like kind; and it appears from the whole tenor of history, that the great care of our ancestors was to root from the breast of their kings every principle of vain glory, which, the more ridiculous it is, becomes generally the more expensive to the nation. What an amazing contrast, then, does all this offer to the proceedings of the parliament of George the Fourth, who generally addressed him in the most adulatory language, and gave him money to gratify all his inordinate vanity. But the House of Commons, during his reign, spoke not the sentiments of the PEOPLE.

At the commencement of the year

1823,

some friends of the late ill-fated queen addressed Mr. Canning upon the subject of certain letters and papers, preserved from the period of her majesty leaving this country in 1814. Mr. Canning, however, did not think proper to reply to this communication. At the expiration of two months, another respectful inquiry was submitted, but it also shared the fate of its predecessor. A third expostulatory epistle was forwarded, and a certain individual received an anonymous reply, saying, "Things were changed; times were altered; and it was impossible that Mr. Canning could serve the king and the cause of the person so much disliked by his majesty!" This circ.u.mstance affords indubitable proof, that a man in office can never prove himself free from the trammels of party, or unwarped by elevation to power. Humanity and generosity were, however, alike forgotten in this case for _interested_ motives,--a meanness which no man of integrity would have committed. But, to any one acquainted with the truckling arts of Mr. Canning, such conduct was no more than might have been expected.

Early in this year, Mr. Vansittart was released from the _fatigues_ of the financial department, and raised to the chancellorship of the duchy of Lancaster, at the same time sinking his humble name for the more agreeable t.i.tle of Lord Bexley. Mr. Robinson succeeded him in the Exchequer, and Mr. Huskisson was appointed president of the Board of Trade. The latter changes gave the public much pleasure, as those individuals were supposed to possess a manly sense of propriety, as well as liberal opinions, from which the country hoped to reap some benefit in financial and commercial administration.

Very soon after these political arrangements were completed, the royal family were much annoyed by applications on behalf of the _protege_ of her late majesty, William Austin, as the trifling income he received was not sufficient to support him in comfort and respectability. But, although he had been left her majesty's residuary legatee, his claims were totally disregarded.

Notwithstanding the bold language used in memorials and private addresses to the king at this time, the interest and happiness of the population of this mighty empire were treated as subjects of no consequence. The besotted "Prince of Dandies" was rioting in luxury and adulterous embraces, and neither felt nor cared for public distress. He was too great, _in his own estimation_, to condescend to men of low estate; he was too mighty to listen to the cry of the dest.i.tute; and too n.o.ble to heed the incessant pet.i.tions of the rabble, as all those who complained of existing grievances were denominated by him and his ministers. But the "accomplished gentleman" was not above receiving half the peasant's loaf; and, like the locust, he made the increase of the land his prey. It was _acknowledged_ in the House of Commons that the coronation expenses amounted to two hundred and thirty-eight thousand pounds! and that even the DRESS of the monarch, for whom such a mighty show was made, cost twenty-four thousand pounds!!! This abominable expenditure, too, was for the _honour_ of George the Fourth, whose excesses and debaucheries would have disgraced the most debased of his subjects,--the man who had dishonestly permitted the most valuable jewel to be extracted from the crown of England, to bestow upon the _l.u.s.ty person_ of his mistress. A beautiful jewel, that formerly belonged to his deceased daughter Charlotte, was also given to this same _kind_ lady. The jewel belonging to the crown was, upon compulsion only, afterwards restored, but the other is still retained! Some celebrated jewellers, not ten miles from Ludgate Hill, could bear testimony, that the choicest trinkets in their possession were culled, by this "Prince of Abominations," for presents to his mistresses and confidants. Such, however, was the easy character of the English nation, that they submitted to the absolute command of a tinselled despot, and became dupes to custom.

The misrule of the year

1824

opened with the unfortunate ratification of the "movements" in Italy and Spain, which tended to consolidate arbitrary power throughout Europe, so that the Continent might be considered as one federal despotism, each state possessing its peculiar coercive government, under the controul of the "Holy Alliance," improperly so called.

The public now lost an uncompromising friend in Thomas, Lord Erskine, who died on the 17th of January, in the 74th year of his age. His lordship was not a favourite with the king; his sentiments were of too liberal a cast for George the Fourth's ideas of subjection and tyranny.

Neither did Lord Erskine ever become a welcome visiter at the palace, because the court-minions knew that he despised intrigue and villany.

The poison of the court was of too malignant a character for his lordship. There, all direct terms were disused in discourse, and distant insinuations supplied their place. Every shining reputation was sure to be sullied, and the ministers, as well as the officers of the army, and clergymen of the "Established" church, were perpetually left to the discretion of that sort of people, who, as they could not be useful to the state themselves, suffered none to serve it with reputation and glory. The king himself had no informations but what were conveyed to him by the ca.n.a.l of a few favourites, who acted always in concert together, and even when they seemed to disagree in their opinions, they were only in the province of a single person to their sovereign. A tainted atmosphere like this was, therefore, ill-suited to the enlightened and patriotic mind of Lord Erskine, who proved himself to be a talented and equitable judge, an admirable statesman, and a most accomplished and kind-hearted gentleman. The native sweetness of his disposition inclined him to universal humanity; his unbia.s.sed judgment and his keen penetration well fitted him for the important situation of Lord Chancellor; and his unclouded understanding guided him to support beneficial measures for the people, while his indignant and n.o.ble soul poured forth its majestic language on the oppressors of his long-enslaved country. His lordship was ever actuated by the best of motives, while his conduct was free from all party extremes. On the memorable proceedings against Queen Caroline, his lordship freely delivered his sentiments upon their unjustness and wickedness, and we shall never forget the energy with which he closed his eloquent remarks: "All the powers of Europe," said he, "are in array against one deserted, betrayed, and unprotected woman! I am an old man, and have had more experience than most of your lordships in proceedings of this kind; I could not have interest or object in attempting to deceive or mislead you; and, therefore, I shall ever defend myself against any imputation which may be directed against the purity of my motives, in doing what I thank my G.o.d I have done, and which, under similar circ.u.mstances, if unhappily they occurred, I should repeat." The freshness and vigour of youth glistened in his lordship's eye as these words burst from his lips, which proclaimed him deserving of being numbered among the venerated champions of our injured and oppressed queen.

We have also to record the death of another determined enemy of tyranny, in the person of Lord Byron, who expired at Missolonghi, on the 19th of April, after an illness of ten days. His lordship had rendered himself highly popular among the Greeks by his pecuniary and personal services in their good cause, and, to show their great respect for his worth, and sorrow for his loss, they would not permit the celebration of their usual festivities at Easter. His lordship's genius as a poet is freely acknowledged; but, though he possessed many public and private virtues, they have been but little estimated, while the tongue of Slander has enlarged upon his frailties with much greater severity than they really deserved. As we were personally intimate with his lordship, we may be allowed to know something of his private sentiments and opinions, and we willingly testify to the exalted ideas he entertained in the cause of universal freedom and equitable government, as well as to his general benevolence and kindness of heart. In religion, his lordship avowed himself a free thinker, a determined enemy to pious fraud and cant, and a despiser of all prosecutions, having for their object the stifling of conscientious opinion. These liberal sentiments called forth the pious rage of many ignorant and intolerant ministers of the gospel, who attempted to darken his bright fame by their bigotted tirades against his pretended infidelity, as well from the PULPIT as in their numerous vituperating pamphlets. Such a system of enforcing the mild and benevolent doctrines of Christianity, however, will work no conversions but on those whose minds are clouded by the baneful effects of ignorance. The gigantic power of Lord Byron's genius could not tamely endure the thraldom of being confined to certain modes of narrow-minded faith. He felt that he had a right to examine and to judge for himself in matters of such vital importance to his eternal peace, and for which no one should have condemned him. If his lordship occasionally expressed his indignation at religious prosecutors and Pharisees, ought it, therefore, to be inferred that he was an infidel? No real Christian, we are convinced, would so demean himself; and from the intolerant portion of religious professors, his lordship's fame has little to fear.

Posterity will be the best judge of such matters, as it will be sure to discard all private acrimony and party feeling; to its award, therefore, we shall confidently look for a removal of the stigma of "INFIDEL" from the character of the ill.u.s.trious author of "Childe Harold."

Would that it were in our power, before closing the account of this year, to record the pa.s.sing of some beneficial act for relieving the oppressed people of England; but we cannot. Our ministers seemed as resolutely determined as ever to plunge and flounder onward in the track that had already procured them the detestation of the British public, and effected the ruin and misery of our once-flourishing and happy country. Looking backward upon their conduct, nothing could be seen but political turpitude; the present was pregnant with wretchedness; but, in contemplating the future, the patriot was animated to exertion by the cheering star of Hope. The baneful influence of the cabinet over our legislative a.s.semblies, the time-serving politics of our church dignitaries and their dependants, and the sycophantic spirit of all those who came within the vortex of the court, formed in themselves a combination of evils, to remove which would indeed require the united moral energies of the people.

The king, as usual, was hunting after the most frivolous pleasures, and gave himself no manner of concern about the grievances of his people.

How applicable is the language of Cowper to this vitiated monarch: