the people, who, however, seem to me to have their minds sufficiently free from any bias to take the side of the strongest. The Grand Duke popular. And in closing his diary in Italy, he writes The French Government, though not good, very useful to prepare the people for a better; the Austrians dull, sleepy, and perhaps as arbitrary; the French by far the best liked of the two, as they are gay and spend their money. Napoleon is respected by all. Of course there is a party for, and a party against him, but I believe the former the strongest. Every man is for himself; there is no national feeling, and nobody to head it if there were. The plan of a federative government, if supported by England, would have partisans. On May 5 Lord John began the 'very long and tedious' ascent of the Brenner, and turned his back upon Italy. Three days afterwards I struck into Germany, which I passed through after the traveller's usual manner, without knowing anything of the people, language, or history. Only observed that the race was entirely different from the Italian. Alehouses instead of confectioners, hardware instead of books, whitewashed small country houses instead of large architectural palaces, cleanliness instead of taste, and honest sulkiness instead of roguish vivacity. 'L'homme est méchant et misérable,' says Bayle, but not universally—'méchant' in the south, 'misérable' in the north. Though Lord John only crossed the Brenner on May 5, he was speaking in the House of Commons on June 5, and protesting against the new war, 'which he declared to be impolitic in its origin, unjust in its object, and injurious in its consequences.' His protest did not, of course, affect the issue. Ministers succeeded in obtaining the supplies which they sought, and their chosen chief, by his famous victory, gave enduring peace to Europe. The session was rapidly concluded, and Parliament separated without having a further opportunity of listening to Lord John Russell's eloquence. The story of Lord John Russell's life has now been brought down to a distinct halting-place. With the commencement of the following session he was destined to take a more active part both in politics and literature. The boy had ripened into the man, and the business of his life was thenceforward to be more serious. Yet it is worth while, before closing this chapter, to review the incidents which have already been related. An attempt has been made to give a picture of a delicate boy gradually increasing in strength, but whose weakness interfered with the usual routine of education. We have seen him at a bad private school at Sunbury, for a few months enduring the rough life of a fag at Westminster, for some years living with a private tutor in Kent, and with Professor Playfair in Edinburgh. At these various places he acquired a knowledge of a good deal of Latin, and of a little Greek, and some acquaintance with mathematical and physical sciences. Yet, so far as education goes, his furniture was unusually defective. He had no pretensions to be called a scholar. His knowledge was, in fact, the exact reverse of that which an ideal scholar is said to possess. Instead of being so intent on the trees as to neglect the forest, he was so occupied with the forest that he knew too little about the trees. He read his Virgil and his Homer as he read his Dryden and his Young, and did not suffer his attention to be diverted from their thoughts and language to a study of the Greek digamma. Yet, if he had not much pretensions to exact knowledge, his reading was wider than that of most of his contemporaries; and he had not merely a large acquaintance with authors of many nations, he had thought on what he read. His mind, too, had been enlarged by intercourse with superior men, and by the opportunities of foreign travel. Few men of his age, standing on the threshold of a career, had seen so much that was worth seeing. He had knowledge of every division of the United Kingdom. In London he had breakfasted with Mr. Fox, he was a frequent guest at Lord Holland's dinner-table, he was acquainted with all the prominent leaders of the Whig party, he had already become a member of Grillion's Club. In Dublin he had seen all that was best in society; in Edinburgh he had mixed with all that was best in letters. He had already made the acquaintance of Mr. Moore in one capital; he was on terms of intimacy with Mr. Jeffrey in the other. He had dined with Dr. Parr at Birmingham, with Bishop Watson on Windermere ; he had walked with Sir Walter Scott along the banks of the Tweed, and he had passed a night in the poet's home at Ashestiel. He had travelled through the highlands of Scotland, and had carefully examined the great manufacturing industries of England. Abroad, his opportunities had been even greater. He had read his Camoens in Portugal, his Tasso in Italy; he had traversed the Italian Peninsula from Naples to Venice; he had journeyed through the length of Spain; he had ridden with the Duke of Wellington along the lines of Torres Vedras; he had watched a French advance in force in the neighbourhood of Burgos; he had gazed from a British position near La Rune over Southern France. He had conversed with Napoleon in Elba; and he had hurried home to denounce in his place in the House of Commons the inception of a new war. Was there another man in England, who had not completed the twenty-third year of his age, who had seen so much and who had done so much as Lord John Russell? His desultory education had been appropriately ended by his leaving Edinburgh without taking a degree. But the deficiency had been amply repaired. He had graduated in the University of the World. The following lines from an undated essay on Vanity were, there is reason to believe, written in 1813,1 and will explain Lord John's sentiments at the opening of his career :— To study man, God's last and greatest work, 1 The poem from which these lines are taken is in an undated MS. book. The six last lines were afterwards copied—in the form in which they appear in the text-into another MS. book, and dated 1813. The four last lines were published in The Nun of Arrouca. To mark each passion with its kindred rave, If to my heirs I can entail a name If tears of man my mouldering grave bedew, But if to me is placed so hard a doom, Yet would I seek to strive with Nature's laws, But, if for these high mysteries unfit- Yet still in listless pleasure could I lie, Drink the pure stream, bless the unclouded sky; Read Nature's works; nor ever feel a care, While 'mid the souls I love, I breathe the morning air. But if for me, by sad decree of fate, Sorrow impends, alone I'll bear the weight; Then be my heart like ocean, common road For all, but only for the dead abode. Man shall not sound the deep o'er which he steers And none shall count its treasures or its tears. CHAPTER IV. POLITICS AND LITERATURE. THERE are few subjects which are perhaps less perfectly understood than the condition of England at the close of the great war in 1815. The student, gazing backward over the long intervening years, is arrested by the vision of a great triumph. Those, however, who were on the stage at the time heard the shout of triumph drowned by the wail of suffering, and saw the sunshine of victory obscured by a cloud of sorrow. While the war lasted three causes, different in their character, produced either the semblance or the reality of prosperity. (1) The superiority of the British at sea gave them a predominance in trade, which tended to develop the native and colonial, industries of the empire; (2) the vast expenditure of the Government, forestalling the accumulations of future generations, created fictitious demands for labour; and (3) an inconvertible currency, established by the Bank Restriction Act of 1797, raised prices to an unprecedented level, and provoked an appetite for speculation. A period of high prices is always advantageous to the landed classes. The landowners of 1815 found themselves in a position of affluence, and were able to raise the price of labour by increasing their own expenditure. These conditions were abruptly terminated by the peace of 1815. The Act of 1797 had stipulated that payments in cash should be resumed six months after the conclusion of peace. In consequence, the price of gold fell rapidly from the artificial level to which an inconvertible currency had forced it. The price of every other article fell with the decrease in its value. The whole complicated operations of trade were affected by a universal fall of prices, and the creditor was |
