PALMERSTON’S great merit as a governing man arose from his perfect sympathy with those whom he was called upon to govern;—and his demerit, such as it was, sprang from the same cause. He was bold, industrious, honest, strong in purpose as in health, eager, unselfish, and a good comrade. He was at the same time self-asserting, exacting, never doubting himself when his opinion had been formed, and confident against the world in arms. We cannot be surprised that such a one should have been loved by us, and still less so that he should have been hated by others. He was an enemy to the Ministers of other Courts, not only because he was bold, honest, and eager, but also because he showed himself plainly to have those qualities, and was never tired of asserting himself because of them. Who is this man that claims to himself to be more hardworking and honester than any among us,—and who is making good his pretensions? Such were not the spoken words of any foreign statesman of the day; but they describe the feelings on which they seem to have acted. And these men at the same time did believe themselves, and truly believed themselves, to be intellectually his superiors. Let us take Guizot as one of the number, who had much to do with Palmerston, and with whom Palmerston was much concerned. Guizot{201} must have been conscious of brighter faculties and greater thinking power. But he must have been aware that in all discussions among men of the same class Palmerston’s word was the strongest, because of his probity, and truth, and industry.

The same idea occurs to us in reading what has been written of him since his death. He is called “stupid” and “blundering” by those who have been opposed to his politics as a War Minister. But such as his politics were, they were always those of his countrymen for the time being; and in a country professing to be ruled under the Constitution which here prevails, I do not know what higher praise can be given to a Minister. Let the people change their principles; let the Cobdens and Brights teach them that war is altogether a bad thing, and that commerce will suffice to procure for us the respect of other nations. I do not say that it may not be so, and that the teaching of Cobden and Bright may not approve itself in the long run. But such has not yet become the opinion of Englishmen generally; and until Cobden and Bright have taught their countrymen, the country requires such a Minister as was Lord Palmerston. They liked his honesty; they liked his self-assertion, and they did not like it the less, because he expressed himself with a hectoring tongue.

Mr. Morley, in his “Life of Cobden,” vol. ii. p. 189, has said of Palmerston, that Sir John Bowring was wrong in the affair of the Arrow, and should have been recalled. He then goes on as follows; “It was not, however, to be expected from the statesman, whose politics never got beyond Civis Romanus, especially when he was dealing with a very weak power.” The charge here made is manifestly unjust. Had he said{202} that Palmerston had preached the doctrine of Civis Romanus against all nations, weak or strong,—usque ad nauseam,—there might have been some truth in the saying. But the sting of the reproach lies in the assertion that he had preached it especially when the weak were opposed to him. He has intended to imply that when Greece or Portugal were concerned, then, on behalf of Britons, Palmerston exclaimed, Civis Romanus; but that he lowered his colours and bated his breath when he had to deal with France or Austria, with Russia or Prussia. Against this I protest. Take all the matters in which he was engaged with other countries,—the creation of Belgium, the Spanish marriages, his treatment of Metternich and Buol, and his life-long battle with Nicholas, and then say whether he was Civis Romanus “especially with the weaker powers!” The word has escaped Mr. Morley in the pride of his contempt, and should be recalled from a work destined to live long because of merits which his prejudice cannot obscure.

But we do know that Lord Palmerston was unpopular among the foreigners, especially in the early part of his career. Mr. Greville thus wrote of him in his journal in 1834; “Madame de Lieven told me that it was impossible to describe the contempt as well as dislike which the whole corps-diplomatique had for Palmerston, and, pointing to Talleyrand, who was sitting close by, ‘surtout lui.’ They have the meanest opinion of his capacity, and his manners are the reverse of conciliatory.” Again, he says, in 1835; “Palmerston is beaten in Hants, at which everyone rejoices.” But by degrees Mr. Greville mends his verdict. “The other night I met some clerks in the Foreign Office to whom the very name of Palmerston is hateful. But I was surprised to hear them,—Mellish{203} particularly, who can judge both from capacity and opportunity,—give ample testimony to his abilities.”

It will be seen from this that even among Englishmen likely to be intimate with the diplomatic circle in London, so late as 1835 Lord Palmerston was supposed to have been generally unpopular, and his want of punctuality is spoken of, a fault likely to interfere much with the comfort of others. But at that time he was a man of fashion, and though he had been for many years specially noted for his industry in mastering all the details of his office,—at the War Office for instance, through his many years of service before he was appointed to the Foreign Office,—it may be surmised that he preferred to work at such hours as best suited himself. If this was so, it only gives an additional proof of that determination to have his own way which governed him through all his life. But his popularity as a Minister did not commence even among Englishmen till after the dates above quoted from Mr. Greville’s journal;—nor that respect among foreigners, did in fact mean a reverence for the power he exercised. It was not in truth known to the world at large how great had been his influence in regard to the creation of Belgium, nor how powerful had been his policy as to the quadruple alliance, till long after the period in question. And though he was sowing the seed for that respect which afterwards grew till he had become the arbiter of European politics generally, the men in whose minds the seed was growing would not, to themselves, admit the growth until the full plant was there, ripe for the use of the nations. In such a career it was necessary that the man should be hated before he was esteemed. Therefore it was that Madame de Lieven spoke of him with contempt, and told of him{204} how Talleyrand specially disliked him. Had he been courteous and servile, and fit to take a place among themselves, the Russian lady and the French gentlemen would have loved the polished man of fashion well enough.

And in those days Palmerston was a Tory, though he was a member of a Whig Government. It must be remembered that the death of Mr. Pitt was still nearer than the death of Lord Palmerston himself. There had to run more than thirty years before the latter event came. It was less than thirty years since Pitt had died. And Palmerston was still regarded as a man brought up in the courtly manner; and the fashion after which he was prepared to form a way of living for himself was not yet deciphered or understood. It was not believed that he intended to be so wise, so plastic, and so attentive a politician. In this respect he was running the same career which Canning had taken before him, and which Gladstone has taken since;—and which indeed Peel may be said to have adopted in the last year or two of his life. He had grown into accord with the people of whom he was one. But neither did he do this as Canning had done, with whom it was an affair of genius, of impulse, and of anger; nor as Peel, with whom it was conscience; nor as Gladstone, on whose versatile mind all motives which are not ignoble seemed to have acted with dangerous rapidity. Palmerston changed slowly without knowing that he changed, and learned to wear the common garb of an Englishman because Englishmen around him wore it. “It is a brave spectacle,” says the Edinburgh, in an eloquent article on his death, written in January, 1866;—“it is a brave spectacle to look back on, to see the skill and courage with which nearly single-handed he fought and baffled continental{205} despotism for more than thirty years.” “Since Cromwell’s time no other British statesman has had the honour of having his name made a bugbear to frighten children and despot-ridden lands.” “He was accused of being insolent and aggressive; he was accused of being truckling and cowardly. But now that he is gone there is not a man of us but would say, with his generous antagonist, ‘We are all proud of him,’” The generous antagonist had been Sir Robert Peel; and the words he then spoke were the last which he uttered in the House of Commons. The writer then goes on;—“He is gone; peace to his ashes! It is sad to think we shall never see again that pleasant face, that jaunty air, still dashed by a tinge of the dandyism of the regency, that never-failing figure on the Treasury Bench which drew all eyes; never hear the cheery trumpet tone, not unmusical in its cadences; never learn from his graver wisdom, nor meet his old familiar smile again. We laid him in Westminster Abbey with pride as well as sorrow, side by side with the dust of his great compeers, not dearer or mightier than he. He was a great man. He loved his country and his country loved him. He lived for her honour, and she will cherish his memory.”

As I am now quoting what was said of him shortly after his death, I will give an extract from an article which appeared in August, 1868, in the Saint Paul’s Magazine, and was from the hand of Mr. Peter Bayne;—

“When we were at war with Russia, and when the nation, after trying statesman after statesman, continued in the distressing consciousness that the administration lacked vigour, the man who, for a quarter of a century, had been checkmating the policy of Russia was naturally called for. In no spirit of confidence or enthusiasm,—{206}feeling clearly that others had failed, but by no means certain that the right man was yet discovered,—England said, ‘Try Palmerston.’ It was on the 8th of February, 1855, that the Earl of Derby withdrew, and that he took the helm. On the 16th he explained his position to the House. Already all the machinery of an energetic administration was at work, and as the new Prime Minister glanced at department after department, detailing what had been done and what was planned, members felt that a new spirit of energy was already penetrating the framework of Government. The country looked on in hope, beginning to breathe more freely. Month after month went by; month after month the public watched. Troubles came at first in threatening battalions upon the Ministry; but the practical instinct of the nation gradually decided that Palmerston was the man to whom the business of the war could be committed, and in whose hands the name of England was safe. It was astonishing with what ease he held the reins at that noisy time, and with what lightness and self-possession he encountered the obstacles in his path. In May the Opposition made a determined attempt to unseat him, and a long and stormy debate took place. Mr. Disraeli, anxious to avail himself of the uneasy and disconted feeling which still widely prevailed, and to make the most of the inarticulate shouting of a number of ill-informed people who called themselves Administrative Reformers, moved a resolution to the effect that the language of Her Majesty’s Government was ‘ambiguous and uncertain.’ The Opposition maintained the attack with spirit and animosity, and the men below the gangway on the Liberal side, in whose eyes Lord Palmerston never found favour, kept up a raking fire of argument, taunt{207} and invective. Mr. Disraeli closed the attack in one of his most impassioned philippics. One can still see him with the mind’s eye as his sentences rang through the House, his right arm coming down with fierce emphasis at each rhetorical close, while he asked, in impetuous torrent of interrogatives, w............