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which I should treat it; but my object was, first, to know whether it was open, and if you would be disposed, other things harmonising, to entrust it to me. I will not say, as was my first impulse, that your own intention of taking up the subject is quite sufficient answer for me; for, of course, you are the best judge in that respect, and I am really anxious to have an opportunity of saying my say, with gravity and pains, on a matter so important.

I entirely agree with you in your opinion of Mr. Mill’s theory of marriage and the relations between men and women. I think it is not only fallacious, but a strangely superficial way of regarding a question which is made only the more serious by the fact that a great deal of suffering and much injustice result, not from arbitrary and removable causes, but from nature herself, and those fundamental laws which no agitation can abrogate.

My own idea is that woman is neither lesser man, nor the rival of man, but a creature with her share of work so well defined and so untransferable, as to make it impossible for her, whatsoever might be her gifts and training, to compete with him on perfectly fair terms. There may or may not be general inferiority of intellect–I have no theory on the subject; but intellect, in my opinion, is not the matter in question. Could the burdens of maternity be transferred, or could a class of female celibates be instituted, legislation might be able to do everything for them. But beyond this, I do not see how we can go, except in the case of such measures as those you refer to for the protection of the property of married women, which has already been anticipated by ordinary good sense and prudence, and thus been proved as practicable as it is evidently needful.

I am disposed to accept gratefully such safeguards of practical justice, and also every possibility of improved education, though I put no great faith in the results of the latter; the great difficulty in the case of every female student being, in my opinion, not the want of power, or perseverance, or energy, but the simple yet much more inexorable fact that she is a woman, and liable, the moment she marries, to interruptions and breaks in her life, which must infallibly weaken all her chances of success. This is the line I should take in any paper on the subject; and as few people could speak more fully from experience, I think perhaps my contribution to the discussion–from within, as it were, and not from without–might be worth having. Believe me, truly yours,


And, on the lines here indicated, Mrs. Oliphant wrote the article on ‘Mill and the Subjection of Women’ in the October number of the ‘Review.’

On August 24th, Reeve with his wife started for Scotland; but the grouse had been nearly exterminated by the disease, the shooting was everywhere very indifferent, and a month was passed in a number of friendly visits, of which little trace is left beyond the bare names. On September 21st they returned to London, where, in preparing for a contemplated journey to Portugal, he had to arrange for the sittings of the Judicial Committee immediately after his return. The following shows the kind of difficulty he had to contend with:–

_From Lord Cairns_

_September 27th_–I am very sorry that I shall be unable to take part in your sittings after Michaelmas Term. I have arranged to give up November to that dreadful arbitration of the London, Chatham, and Dover, which, in a weak moment, Salisbury and I undertook; and, after that, I go to Mentone, where I have taken a house for the winter…. I should regret very much to dissever myself from the sittings of the Judicial Committee, which I have always found agreeable, both from the interesting character of the business, and from the pleasant composition of the tribunal; and I hope in next year to be able to afford more service than I have in this; but for the next sitting I must not be reckoned on. I hope you will enjoy your run to Portugal.

This contemplated tour was, no doubt, mainly for the pleasure and interest of visiting a country still unknown to him, but with a slight pretext of business, as chairman of the Lusitanian Mining Company. A few days before his departure he received the following from Lord Clarendon:–

_The Grove, October 3rd_–You will not find Murray at Lisbon, as he is on leave; but a letter shall be written, and to Doria, the _chargé d’affaires_, to render you any service in his power. Do you want one to the consul at Oporto?

I am glad you approved what I said at Watford. I never dreamt of the speech making a sensation, but it has; and as there was nothing remarkable in it, it is a proof that people were looking for an assurance from somebody that a policy of spoliation was not meditated.

I can’t say I got much good from Wiesbaden, where mental torpor, and not a dozen red boxes per day, is required.

* * * * *

And so, accompanied by his wife and daughter, and armed with these letters of introduction and ‘a Foreign Office bag, more,’ wrote Mrs. Reeve, ‘to give us importance, I suspect, than to convey despatches,’ Reeve started as soon as his work was cleared off and the October number of the ‘Review’ was fairly out of his hands.



For some reason best known to himself, Portugal is not a favourite hunting-ground of the tourist; and the country–though almost at our door, though bound to us by alliance in war and friendship in peace for more than two hundred years, though possessing beautiful scenery and the grandest of historical associations–remains comparatively unknown. So far as he was concerned, Reeve had long wished to dispel this darkness, and the fact of his being Chairman of the Lusitanian Mining Company gave him the desired opportunity. His Journal of the tour is here, as on former occasions, elaborated by extracts (in square brackets) from Mrs. Reeve’s.

_October 9th_–Started for Portugal on board the ‘Douro’ from Southampton. Fine passage. Landed at Lisbon on October 13th. Hôtel Bragança. Kindly received by Pinto Basto. Excursion to Cintra on the 14th.

_15th_.–Dined with Pinto Basto and met Fonseca. 16th, to Caldas. 17th, to Alcobaça; then drove on to Batalha, and slept at Leiria. These great monasteries, now deserted, with their architecture and their tombs, are of the highest interest.

_18th_.–From Leiria to Pombal, and thence by rail to Coimbra [armed with letters of introduction from Count Lavradio, including one to the ‘Rector Magnificus,’ described as ‘homme aimable et fort instruit, surtout dans les sciences physiques.’]

[The buildings of the University are not remarkable either way. The Rector received us very courteously; showed us himself the splendid view from the tower, the Salle where degrees are conferred, and allowed us to peep into a gallery and through a window to see the lecture-rooms; then, making his bow, sent us with an attendant to the chapel, where we were joined by the Professor of German, Herr Dürzen, clad in the ample cape or cloak and with the black jelly-bag cap which is the academic costume. He took us to the library, a large and striking saloon with carved and gilt pilasters and galleries…. There are about 900 students, of whom a large proportion comes from the Brazils. They look very picturesque in their floating drapery and hanging headgear; but the cape must be always impeding the free use of arms and legs, and the cap–now that its original use as a begging purse has ceased–might well be exchanged for a ‘sombrero.’ Herr Dürzen accompanied us to the Botanic Gardens, where his friend and countryman, Götze, showed us a splendid magnolia, Australian pines, and a great variety of eucalypti…. We then drove to the entrance of the footway leading to the Penedo da Saudade, a walk much affected by the Coimbrese. Then to the Quinta da Santa Cruz, the summer residence of the monks. Truly they had made them lordly pleasure-grounds, orange groves, hedges like tall walls of arbor-vitae, terraces leading to fountains and cascades, azulejo-lined benches surrounding marble floors, shaded by grand old laurels…. The Quinta now belongs to a rich butter factor, who lets everything ornamental go to wreck and ruin, or just clears it off for farm purposes…. The butter factor’s dogs came out barking and biting as we left the garden. Henry made a timely retreat; the professor showed fight, and came off second best, with his mantle torn. Then to the Church of Santa Cruz and to the monastic buildings attached….]

_20th_.–Coimbra to Mealhada, then to Luso, and walked to Busaco. Convent of Busaco. Scene of battle. Rail to Estarreja [which we reached at 6 P.M. A splendid full moon lighted our drive to Palhal. Mr. Cruikshank met us at the station, and drove Henry in his dog-cart; Hopie and I, with our bags, went in the _char-à-banc_ which had been procured from Aveiro. The distance is about eight miles, seven of which are a gentle ascent, and then a steep pitch down of one mile. Flags were flying in honour of the arrival of the chairman of the ‘Lusitanian Company,’ and after dinner a display of fireworks. Mr. and Mrs. Cruikshank are a pleasing and intelligent young Scotch couple. Three of their children are at Granja, a little bathing village two or three stations further, and Mrs. Cruikshank and her eldest little girl came back to receive us.]

_21st_.–[The mine at Palhal yields copper ore; that of Carvalhal lead ore. The Pinto Basto family have the concession of the mines, and own much of the surface. From five to eight hundred persons are employed–all Portuguese, except the three mining captains, the dresser of the ores, a carpenter, and a blacksmith. The English colony consists of about thirty souls; there is a school for the children, and on Sundays they meet for Divine worship after the manner of Wesleyans. The wages of these Cornishmen are eight, ten, twelve pounds a month, and there are very tidy houses on the property, with a large cottage, or house, for the agent–Mr. Cruikshank. The works are in the ravine below the house, and the Caima furnishes ample water power…. Many women and girls are employed preparing the ores, some of them remarkably good-looking…. Their wages are from two to three shillings a week. The scenery–pine-clad hills, streams on the hill-side, ravines, and burns–reminded one of Scotland; but oranges and camellias in the gardens, arbutus, myrtle, laurustinus, cistus, all wild, tell of a different climate…. We explored Palhal on Thursday, and Carvalhal on Friday; Henry and Mr. Cruikshank going into details at the works, whilst we went, with Mrs. Cruikshank, to call on the wives, visit the school, &c…. On Friday evening we took the train at Estarreja, and so to Oporto.]

_25th_.–Adolph Pinto Basto [a nephew of our Lisbon friends] gave us an entertainment in a boat on the Douro, and a collation at Avintes. Dinner at the Crystal Palace, Oporto.

_26th_.–Drove to Carvalho with Elles.

_27th_.–Drove to Leça do Balio with Oswald Crawford, the consul. Interesting Templars’ church.

_28th-30th_.–By rail from Oporto to Madrid, thirty-six hours by Badajos, Merida, Alcazar.

_31st_.–Madrid. Gallery. Bull-fight for the benefit of ‘El Tato.’ [We had seen him at Valencia, nine years ago, in the pride and bloom of his career–a career cut short not so much by the fury of the bull as by the ignorance of the surgeon. Presently the chief door of the arena was unbarred, and an open carriage, with three men in the dress of matadors and ‘El Tato’ in the ‘plain clothes’ of a peasant drove round. Great was the sensation. The men shouted, the women wept, the old lady at my elbow shed floods of tears; cigars and hats were flung to him; he bowed, kissed his hand, wiped his eyes. Then the regular work of the day commenced.] Very cold.

_November 2nd_.–Left Madrid for Avila, passing the Escorial.

_3rd_.–Avila and then on to Burgos.

_4th_.–Burgos. Cathedral. Monuments.

_5th_.–Reached Biarritz at 10 P.M., and so to Paris.

_8th_.–Paris. Saw Désclès in ‘Frou-frou.’ Great actress.

Home on the 9th. A well-spent month.

_From the Comte de Paris_

York House, le 11 novembre.

Mon cher Monsieur Reeve,–Mon oncle Aumale et moi nous vous remercions des paquets que vous nous avez envoyés ce matin; mon oncle me charge de vous dire qu’il n’a pu vous écrire aujourd’hui, étant fort occupé des soins à donner à la Duchesse d’Aumale, qui est toujours dans un état assez grave, mais que vous lui ferez grand plaisir si vous voulez venir passer au Woodnorton la semaine du 22 au 29 novembre; il y aura quelques chasses à tir.

Je viens de mon côté vous demander de nous faire le plaisir de venir, avec Madame et Mademoiselle Reeve, déjeuner ici dimanche prochain à midi et demie; c’est le seul jour où je puisse vous voir, car je pars lundi matin pour le Worcestershire.

Veuillez me croire votre bien affectionné,


As to which the Journal has:–

_November 14th_.–Breakfasted at York House. The Duc d’Aumale came, but the Duchesse was ill, and on December 6th she died.

The Comte de Paris telegraphed the news to Reeve the same evening, and wrote the next day asking him to charge himself with sending a little notice of it to the principal newspapers–a thing Reeve readily undertook to do. Before receiving the request, he had already written expressing his wish to attend the funeral, and the Comte de Paris acknowledged both letters at the same time.

_From the Comte de Paris_

York House, le 7 décembre.

Mon cher Monsieur Reeve,–Je m’empresse de vous remercier de vos deux lettres et de la manière dont vous avez répondu à ma demande.

Mon oncle Aumale est bien touché de l’intention que vous exprimez de venir vous associer à sa douleur le jour des funérailles de ma tante. Elles son fixées à vendredi prochain. La première cérémonie aura lieu à Orléans House à 9-1/2h du matin, après quoi nous conduirons le corps à Weybridge, pour le déposer dans le caveau de famille. Nous y serons vers midi, ou peut-être un peu plus tard, car il est difficile de calculer très exactement l’arrivée de ce triste convoi. Ce ne sera en tous cas pas avant midi.

Je termine en vous priant de me croire

Votre bien affectionné,


‘I attended her funeral on the 10th’–Reeve noted in his Journal–‘and went in an immense procession from Twickenham to Weybridge.’

_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, November 21st_.–I never had any taste for travelling. I would willingly go a hundred miles for an hour’s conversation with such or such a person; but the miles themselves have little interest for me. However, your tour in Portugal, as you describe it, would have tempted me. I like a country which is different from all others. Still, I am quite sure that, after having amused yourself in Portugal, you are very glad to be back in England….

Lord Clarendon may be quite easy; no difficulty affecting his department will come from here. Country and Government are equally inclined to peace. As to our home affairs, which alone have any interest just now, I am a little sad, but not uneasy. We are returning–quietly, ignorantly, and with tottering steps–into the right path, the parliamentary system. The country is coming back to it. The Emperor does not, and will not, offer any serious resistance to it. We shall make blunders, both in our procedure and debates, but shall, nevertheless, make sensible progress. What we are in want of is the men.

_From Lord Westbury_

_Hinton St. George, November 25th._–Mrs. Reeve, when I had the pleasure of seeing her at Hinton, gave me an assurance that I should not be troubled this year with any request to attend the Privy Council. Your letter, therefore, is an act of _gross domestic insubordination_–a kind of petty treason. Formerly it was the act of the husband that bound the wife; _mais nous avons changé tout cela_; the act of the wife binds the husband. I appeal unto Caesar. It is very easy for Lord Chelmsford and yourself, who have your town houses in order, your servants, horses, carriages, and whole establishments, not omitting the _placens uxor_, to talk of the ‘patriotic duty’ of attending the Privy Council–having nothing else to do, and wanting amusement; but my house is thoroughly dismantled, having been under repair; I have not a room to sit down in with comfort, nor servants to attend to me, nor a cook to cook my dinner, nor any of those _solatia_ or _solamina_ which you have in profusion. Yet you, with great unconcern, desire me to quit my family, and all my amusements and enjoyments, that I may come to town to endure complete wretchedness, and have a bad dinner and an indigestion everyday, _ut plebi placeam et declamatio fiam_. If you think this reasonable and right, I am sure you have left all sense of reasonableness in Lusitania. Besides, have you not a plethora of judicial wealth and power? Have you not the Lord Justice, who has little else to do; and the Admiralty Judge; and that great Adminiculum, the learned and pious man whom, _honoris causâ_, I call Holy Joe? [Footnote: Probably sir Joseph Napier, nominated to a place on the Judicial Committee by Disraeli in March 1868.] But to speak more gravely. Had I had the least conception that I should have been wanted–that is, _really_ wanted–I would have made other arrangements than I have done…. We shall now have a house full of people until December 20th, and I cannot, without much offence, relieve myself from these deferred engagements. A little while ago I was thrown out of my shooting-cart; I injured my arm, which has brought on rheumatism, and I am not in a condition to come up to a solitary and dismantled house in London without anything requisite for the comfort of an old man. On January 20th, until the beginning of appeals in the Lords, I will, if you need it, sit and dispose of all the colonial and admiralty appeals. When will you come down and shoot?

_To Lord Derby_

62 Rutland Gate, December 19th.

My dear Lord Derby, [Footnote: For some years Reeve had known him as Lord Stanley. He had succeeded to the title on October 23rd.]–I cannot without emotion address you by your present name. Although I never had the honour of much personal acquaintance with your father, he has been, for the last thirty years, an object of familiar interest even to those with whom he was not familiar. His high spirit, his splendid eloquence, his public services, have endeared him to thousands whom he hardly knew, and caused them to share the feelings with which you, in a far higher degree, must regard this great loss. I have no doubt, however, that you will support and increase the honour of a name so illustrious, and I know no one more fit to bear it…. Mrs. Reeve begs to join with me in again presenting to you our very sincere regards, and I remain,

Very faithfully yours,


Of social engagements, the Journal mentions–

To Farnborough for Christmas, and thence to Timsbury till the end of the year. I called at Broadlands, now occupied by the Cowper Temples.

_January 5th_, 1870.–To Hinton. Vice-Chancellor Stuart there. Lord Westbury very amusing. Shooting every day. In Cudworth covers killed 192 head.

The following letter from M. Guizot refers to an incident which caused a tremendous sensation at the time, and–judged by the later events–may be considered as a portent of the downfall of the Empire. Prince Pierre Bonaparte had challenged M. Henri Rochefort, the editor of a violent Republican journal which had published a scurrilous and abusive article. M. Grousset, the writer of the article, took the responsibility, and, on January 10th, sent his friends, Victor Noir and Ulric Fonvielle, to wait on the Prince at his house in the Rue d’Auteuil. The Prince said his challenge was to M. Rochefort; to M. Grousset he had nothing to say. A quarrel and a free fight followed. Each man drew his revolver, and Victor Noir, mortally wounded, broke out of the room, staggered into the street, and fell dead. Fonvielle escaped uninjured. He and the Prince were the only witnesses of what took place, and their stories directly contradicted each other. The Prince was tried on a charge of murder, but was acquitted. On a civil trial he was sentenced to pay 1,000 £ damages to the father of Victor Noir, as compensation for the loss of his son’s services.

_Val Richer, January 12th_.–I do not yet rightly understand the tragic incident at Auteuil. I am inclined to think that Prince Pierre Bonaparte was threatened and assaulted before using his revolver; the probabilities are that he acted in self-defence. The trial will be curious. In any case, it is a great misfortune for the Imperial Government, more so than for the new Cabinet, which will certainly not be wanting in courage, and will be supported by whoever is anxious to practise ‘economy of revolution,’ as a friend of mine says.

I have friends in this Cabinet, honourable, liberal-minded, and sensible men. Will a leader be found among them? We shall see. Hitherto organisation has been everywhere wanting; in the Legislative Body, as in the Cabinet. I see no reason to change the opinion I formed some time since, and perhaps already mentioned to you; I am sad, rather than uneasy, for the future of my country. She will not fall into the abyss; but, for want of political foresight and firmness, will allow herself to be dragged along the edge of it. Men’s minds and characters are narrowed rather than corrupted.

In connexion with which the Journal has:–

_January 16th_.–Dined at Lord Granville’s, with Lavalette, the new French ambassador. The Emperor had just formed a more liberal ministry, with Daru and Ollivier, which soon broke down owing to Buffet’s _entêtement_.

_26th_.–Dinner at Clarendon’s, to meet the Queen of Holland.

_From M. Guizot_

_Paris, January 31st_.–I have just read the article on Calvin with a real and lively satisfaction, complete, so far as I am concerned; I am very grateful to Mr. Cunningham (I think that is the author’s name) for his kind words, and for his sympathy with my description of Calvin and his time. Be so good as to thank him for me; it is a pleasure to be so well understood and set forth. As to Calvin, Mr. Cunningham does full justice to his merits; I ask a little more indulgence for his faults, which belonged to the time quite as much as to the man. Very few, even among superior men, admitted the rights of conscience and liberty. Marnix de Ste.-Aldegonde bitterly reproached the hero of the Reformation, William the Silent, with tolerating Catholics in Holland. Melanchthon unreservedly approved of the burning of Servetus. Catholic Europe was covered with stakes for the Protestants, and, if Servetus had had the upper hand, I doubt if Calvin would have received from him any better treatment than he received from Calvin. I do not on that account detest the burning of Servetus any the less; but I do not count it as a fault personal and peculiar to Calvin. In every-day life and in systematic theology he ignored the rights of freedom. The twofold error was enormous; but his policy and philosophy were equally sincere, and, of all the eminent despots of history, he was, I think, one of the least ambitious and most disinterested. He was almost forced into power against his will, and he wielded it harshly, tyrannically, but without seeking any personal gain, and he was still more severe to himself than to those whom he treated so severely….

The Journal goes on:–

_March 5th_.–Visit to the Watneys, at Leamington, and to Stratford-upon-Avon. Beautiful effect in the church, the organ playing ‘Rest in the Lord.’

_12th_.–Evening at Lady Cowley’s, for Queen of Holland.

Went to Isle of Wight with W. Wallace at Easter. The Bishop of Winchester preached in Ventnor Church on April 24th (first Sunday after Easter).

_From M. Gulzot_

_Paris, April 7th_.–… It is curious to watch France, and I am also curious as to the possible consequences of what is happening in England. France has never been so liberal and so anti-revolutionary at the same time. England is making a thoroughly liberal reform in Ireland, and at the same time a severe law of repression for the defence of order. I wish and hope for your success in both. I also hope that our attempt at quiet and liberal reform will not fall through. But both for you and for us there are rugged paths yet to traverse; the future is still darkly clouded. Even after the success of our respective undertakings, Ireland will not be pacified, and political liberty will not be established in France. There is no need to be discouraged, the best of human works are incomplete and insufficient; but there is need to beware of illusions, to be prepared for disappointments, to be always ready to begin again. I moralise on politics. Good sense is the law of politics, and what I have learnt from history, above all, is that good sense is essentially moral. You will, therefore, not be surprised that I mix morals and politics….

_From Lord Westbury_

_April 13th_.–How shall I thank you for your inspiriting letter, which was as the sound of the trumpet to the aged war-horse! I fear my contemporaries have taken a more accurate measurement of my power, and that I shall never fulfil any such glorious destiny as you hold before my eyes. It is true of many men that _possunt quia posse videntur_; and that they accomplish many things simply because they are not fastidious. I should never do anything, simply because I should tear up one day what I had written the preceding. It would be Penelope’s web. Our education is too aesthetical. Unless a cultivated taste be overpowered by personal vanity, it is very difficult to complete any composition. I can most truly say that I have never done anything, speaking or writing, of which I could say, on the review, _mihi plaudo_.

We have a great difference of opinion in the members of the Digest Commission. Many think that the work should be handed over to two or three very able men (not judges or Emeriti Chancellors), who should be well paid; and that to them, with a staff of subordinates, all the work should be committed. Others think that there should be added to this establishment some presiding power, consisting of one, two, or three distinguished judges, to whom all questions should be referred, and whose duty it should be to give an _imprimatur_ to the work. So we cannot agree on a recommendation to the Government; and when we shall do so, but little weight will attach to it.

The Journal here notes:–

_May 6th_.–Mansfield came back from India.

At the time of the Russian war, Reeve and Mansfield had been on terms of intimacy, and, in fact, it was largely through Reeve’s interest with Lord Clarendon that Mansfield had been sent to Constantinople in 1855, as military adviser to Lord Stratford de Redcliffe. Since then the intimacy had been interrupted by Mansfield’s absence in India, where he had served with distinction during the Mutiny, and afterwards in command of the Bombay army and as commander-in-chief since 1865. In the following year he was raised to the peerage as Lord Sandhurst. The Journal notes:–

_May 26th_.–The King of Portugal made me a Commander of the Order of Christ; but this was solely as chairman of the Lusitanian Mining Company. The Duc d’Aumale, Mansfield, Lord Dunsany, Lord Northbrook, Stirling Maxwell, Lady Molesworth dined with us.

_From the Marquis of Salisbury_

40 Dover Street, June 1st.

Dear Mr. Reeve,–It is my pleasing duty to inform you that the University of Oxford wish to express their sense of your literary services and attainments by conferring on you an honorary degree at the approaching commemoration. I trust that it will not be disagreeable to you to accede to their wishes in this matter, and that you will be able without inconvenience to attend at Oxford to receive the degree. The day on which they will be conferred will be on Tuesday, the 21st inst.

Believe me, yours very truly,


The Journal notes:–

_June 3rd_.–Excursion to Malvern, Hereford, and Worcester. Xavier Raymond came to Bushey [Duc de Nemours’]. I breakfasted there on the 10th. [On the 11th the Duke wrote]:–

Cher Monsieur Reeve,–Je lis ce matin en tête des colonnes du journal le ‘Times,’ un charmant premier article sur mon fils aîné, et portant même son nom pour titre. Cet article inspiré par un bienveillant sentiment envers lui et ma famille en général, met dans un brillant relief les services que mon fils vient de rendre à son pays d’adoption. Cela a donc été pour moi une extrême satisfaction que de le voir placé en première ligne dans le journal le plus répandu du monde.

Je sais qu’il n’est pas permis de s’enquérir du nom de ceux qui écrivent dans la presse anglaise. Mais si à vous le nom de l’auteur était connu, dans ce cas-ci, cher Monsieur Reeve, et si vous appreniez aussi à qui est due l’insertion de cet article, je vous serais très reconnaissant (dans le cas toutefois où vous le jugerez convenable) de faire connaître à l’une et à l’autre de ces personnes combien j’en ai été heureux et touché.

Plein du bon souvenir de votre visite d’hier, je vous renouvelle ici, cher Monsieur Reeve, l’assurance de mes bien affectueux sentiments.


_From Mr. Delane_

_June 13th_.–I return the Duke’s letter with many thanks. The story of the Brazilian article is curious enough to be worth telling. At the Rothschilds’ ball on Wednesday last I was by an inadvertence placed at supper next but one to the Duc de Nemours, and next to a beautiful young lady. I had long been honoured by the Duc d’Aumale’s acquaintance, but had never before met his brother, and I only slowly became aware who were my neighbours. Then, actually at the supper, among ortolans and peaches, it occurred to me that the Comte d’Eu, of whose exploits I had been reading that morning, and whom I had stupidly regarded as merely a Brazilian general, must be the brother of the beautiful young lady next me, and therefore a personage in whom the European public would take a very different sort of interest from any that Marshal Coxios could command, that, in short, as an Orleans prince, he would be worth an article, though no one would have cared for a mere Brazilian general.

_From the Due de Nemours_

_Bushey Park, 15 juin_.–J’ai à la fois des remercîments et des félicitations à vous adresser pour avoir pris la peine de chercher de qui émanait l’aimable article du ‘Times’ sur mon fils aîné, et pour l’avoir si bien découvert. Le compliment est assurément de très bon goût, et j’y suis très sensible. Il augmente seulement encore mon regret de n’avoir pu, moi aussi, faire à ce même bal la connaissance de l’auteur de cette aimable attention.

_From Lord Westbury_

_June 17th_.–I read with ‘perfect horror’ last night the return of business before the Judicial Committee which you were so good as to send me. There are 350 appeals in all, of which 248 are from India. I do not think less than two days can be allotted to each of these Indian appeals, taking the average; that will require 496 days of sitting, being more than two years; for you cannot, if the committee sat every day the Court of Chancery does, exceed more than 210 days in the year. Now if to this amount of duty for the Indian appeals be added the time required for the remaining 102 appeals, you cannot attribute to them less than 102 days, making in all 598 days, being at least three years’ work for a committee sitting every day.

Whilst these arrears are being disposed of, a new crop of appeals to at least the same amount, will be mature. What shall we do? ‘Hills over hills and Alps on Alps arise.’ I shall mention the subject to-night. Pray, send me this morning any suggestions that occur to you.

_June 18th_.–I am engaged to leave town for a short cruise at sea, to-morrow early. I shall remain until Sunday evening. But it is for the best that I cannot see you to-morrow, because I hope to ‘interview’ you on Wednesday, after your return, with that renovation of genius and accretion of knowledge which will accompany you on your return from Parnassus, after having bathed in the fountain of the Muses. You must bring Mrs. Reeve a faithful copy of the eulogistic speech of the public orator, and I will translate it to her.

My notice is for Thursday. I shall propose the immediate creation of three judges, the giving Colvile and Peel fitting remuneration–2,000 £. a year each–and a large addition to the salary of the registrar.

The Journal then has:–

_June 20th_.–To Oxford, to stay with the Dean of Christchurch, on the accession of Lord Salisbury. Went down with Sir E. Landseer.

_21st_.–Received the degree of D.C.L. from the University, in the Sheldonian Theatre. Lord Salisbury greeted me as ‘Vir potentissime in republicâ literarum,’ at which I looked up and laughed. Dined afterwards in All Souls’ library with the Vice-Chancellor.

* * * * *

Among the other distinguished persons who received the honorary D.C.L. at the same time were Admirals Sir Henry Keppel and Sir John Hay, Sir William Mansfield, and Sir Francis Grant, the President of the Royal Academy. Mansfield gave the ‘Gallery’ some amusement by wearing a cocked hat and feathers with his red doctor’s gown, instead of the regulation academic cap.

_From Lord Westbury_

_June 22nd_.–O vir doctissime et in republicâ literarum potentissime! So said or sung the Chancellor of the University of Oxford, in violation of all the traditions of the place; for Oxford never used before the phrase ‘respublica literarum’ which words and the thing signified she has ever repudiated and abhorred; and to be _potentissimus in republicâ_ are jarring and incoherent things. But let this hypercriticism pass, and when I see Mrs. Reeve I shall tell her that the words were chosen with singular felicity, and that they are not more remarkable for their truth and justice than they are for their elegant latinity; but I will not say that you are a doctor only _honoris causâ_, which are most emphatic words, and are cruelly made to accompany the dignity; for, when translated, they mean: ‘Oh, doctor, do not presume to teach by virtue of this _semiplena graduatio_, for it is only _honoris causâ_, or merely complimentary; and do not boast this title as evidence of skill or erudition in laws, for they are sounding words that signify nothing. How easy it is for envy and malice to depreciate!

I hope Mrs. Reeve and your daughter were there, because it is something fit and able to give genuine pleasure; and if I had been there I would have answered with stentorian voice to the well-known question: ‘Placetne vobis, Domini Doctores? placetne vobis, Magistri?’ ‘Placet, imo valde placet.’…

It is difficult to tell the Government what ought to be done; for, first, there should be great alteration in the Courts in the East Indies, and, secondly, it is clear that the colonists and Indians will not be satisfied unless the Privy Council is presided over by a first-chop man; and I am assured that transferring three puisne judges from the Common Law Courts would not be satisfactory. Can you call at my room in the House of Lords to-morrow, at a few minutes after four?

Yours sincerely, and with deeper respect than ever,


I don’t suppose you will now miss a single bird.

_From Senhor D. Jose Ferreira Pinto Basto_

_Lisbon, June 18th_.–The Portuguese Government do not present those on whom the orders of knighthood are conferred with the decorations they are entitled to wear. These consist, for a commander, in a placard, which is worn on the coat over the left side of the breast; a large cross hanging from a wide ribbon fastened round the neck; and a small cross, fastened by a narrow ribbon to the upper button-hole, on the left side of the coat.

The crosses corresponding to the degree of commander are, for the Order of Christ, the same as those allowed to simple chevaliers, but having a heart over them for distinction, and the ribbons are red. The large pendant cross is scarcely ever worn, unless it be on a very solemn Court day, and even then not generally; and the small cross, which was formerly in constant use, when the pendant one was not worn, is now out of fashion, and either entirely left off or, at the most, substituted by a small ribbon on the coat buttonhole, when no other decoration is worn. What is generally worn on ceremonial occasions is simply the placard, such as I now send you; if, however, you should wish to have the other insignia, please to let me know it, that I may send them. These insignia are, of course, made more costly with diamonds and rubies, to be worn on great festivities; but even then, and for general use, they are usually in silver and enamel, as the placard now forwarded.

I don’t think there is any need of your directly expressing to anyone here your thanks for the distinction conferred upon you; the more so since you have already expressed them through the Portuguese Minister in London.

It is here that the Journal mentions the death of the friend whose letters have occupied such a prominent place in these pages:–

_June 22nd_.–Fête at Strawberry Hill. Lord Clarendon was there, looking very ill, and on the 27th he died–‘Multis ille flebilis occidit, nulli flebilior quam mihi.’

To ‘Fraser’s Magazine’ for August Reeve contributed a graceful article, ‘In Memory of George Villiers, Earl of Clarendon,’ in which, recording his many public services, he especially dwelt on the very important service he had rendered to his country during the period of his being Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, and on the fact that this service had had the singular honour of being directly referred to in the Queen’s Speech on proroguing Parliament on September 5th, 1848, which concluded, ‘The energy and decision shown by the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland deserve my warmest approbation.’ Reeve was told by Lady Clarendon that her husband ‘regarded these emphatic words as the most enviable distinction of his life.’

At the same time another article, ‘In Memoriam,’ appeared in ‘Macmillan’s Magazine.’ This was by Reeve’s colleague at the Privy Council Office, Mr. Arthur Helps, whose acquaintance with Lord Clarendon had been by no means so intimate. His appreciation was thus written from general repute rather than from personal knowledge, but it contains one remarkable passage that may be repeated in order to emphasise it:–

‘He–Lord Clarendon–was a man who indulged, notwithstanding his public labours, in an immense private correspondence. There were some persons to whom, I believe, he wrote daily; and perhaps in after years we shall be favoured–those of us who live to see it–with a correspondence which will enlighten us as to many of the principal topics of our own period.’

Whether Reeve was one of the persons Helps alluded to must remain doubtful. In the strict sense of the words, Lord Clarendon did not write to him daily; but at times he wrote not only daily, but three times a day, [Footnote: See _ante_, vol. i. pp. 296-7.] and the letters, or extracts of letters, now printed, form but a very small portion of the great number which Reeve preserved.

The Journal then mentions:–

_July 3rd_.–Breakfasted at Orleans House with Prince Philip of Würtemberg. Matters looked threatening abroad, and on the 14th the rupture took place between Franco and Prussia. On the 18th war was declared. On the 25th we dined at York House. I said to the Comte de Paris, ‘How is the Emperor to attack Germany?’ Nobody thought at first that the war would be in France; but we were soon undeceived, and I speedily discovered the danger. The Duc d’Aumale wrote to me, ‘Vous avez deviné ma pensée de Français et de soldat.’

I had hired a small moor at Ballachulish from Cameron, the innkeeper there. Maclean of Ardgour, to whom it belonged, lent me a keeper and some dogs. The hills were steep, the shooting bad; but the life there most agreeable. I went down on August 3rd. W. Wallace was with us; and on the 5th we were installed at Ballachulish for six weeks. They were spent in shooting, sea-fishing, boating, &c. Fairfax Taylor [Footnote: Son of John Edward Taylor; see _ante_, p. 117.] came, and Longman. The Trevelyans Fyfes, and Forsters were at the hotel on the other side of the ferry. We were there forty-five days. I went back to town by Greenock on September 21st.

Meanwhile the course of the war was most eventful. On August 6th the battle of Wörth was won by the Prussians, followed by a series of French defeats. On September 2nd Macmahon and the Emperor capitulated at Sedan. William Forster was at Ballachulish, and, as despatches were sent from the F. O. to cabinet ministers, we learnt the fact from him at 8.30 P.M. on September 3rd. Gladstone, though prime minister, volunteered to write an article in the ‘Review’ on the war, which he did. I kept the secret, but it leaked out through the ‘Daily News’ on November 3rd, and made a great noise. The ‘silver streak’ was in that article.

_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, July 29th_.–Among the many bad actions described in history, there is one which is very rare; it is the artifice of a tempter who throws the blame of his attempt at seduction upon the person who rejected it, perhaps after listening to it. But this is what Bismarck has done. You have probably not forgotten what happened in 1868, and what I wrote about it at the time, in the ‘Revue des deux Mondes’ of September 15th. I take pleasure in here quoting my own words:–

‘It is said that M. de Bismarck attempted to engage France on the side of Prussia; and, in order to tempt the Imperial Government, offered to remodel Europe as well as Germany, and to give France a large share in this redistribution of nations. I do not know how much truth there was in these rumours, which so deeply moved Belgium and Holland, amongst others; I will not stop to discuss reports and suppositions. However this may be, if such offers were really made, Napoleon III. did wisely in refusing them; he did not raise himself to the throne as a victorious warrior, and France has no longer a passion for conquest. But did he, in refusing, do all he could to stop or restrain Prussia in the ambitious course into which M. de Bismarck was forcing her, and to influence the reorganisation of Germany according to the legitimate interests of France? I do not think so; but I put this question also on one side,’ &c. &c.

I need not say that I did not lightly credit the rumours of the overtures made by Bismarck to the French Government; they were not only widespread and believed by those who had the best information, but my friends in Holland sent me precise details, and I immediately got the ‘Journal des Débats’ to publish an article which treated this attempted temptation as it deserved, and pointed out the honourable and pacific policy which France ought to follow on this occasion. I have reason to think that men of good sense in the French Government, who were trying to make the policy of law and peace prevail, congratulated themselves on being thus loudly upheld and encouraged.

Never forget, ‘my dear sir,’ what the position of the friends of law and peace is in our general policy. You must some time have read Bürger’s ballad of the ‘Wild Huntsman,’ founded on the legend of a certain nobleman, on the banks of the Rhine, a great hunter, who, if I mistake not, could never mount his horse for the chase without being accompanied, on either side, by a good and a bad angel, one urging him to follow the beaten track, and respect the rights of property, the other urging him to rush across the fields, trampling down harvest, gardens, and passers-by, careless of what injury he inflicted.

For a long time France, both as to her Government and her people, has been in the position of this hunter, always accompanied by the two angels; all that has happened in France and in Europe during the last eighty years has put us in that position, and it is sometimes the good angel, sometimes the bad, which has made itself heard, and has seemed on the point of becoming the hunter’s master. There is not a right-minded and sensible man in Europe who has not endeavoured to help the good angel and defeat the efforts of the wicked tempter.

In my opinion, the Imperial Government was wrong in not accepting the withdrawal of the candidateship of the Prince of Hohenzollern; a withdrawal announced by the Prince himself, accepted by the King of Prussia, and accepted and officially communicated to France by the Spanish Government. This was held to be insufficient satisfaction for France, though I think neither necessity nor prudence called for a second demand, which offended the pride of all parties; and the manner in which it was rejected has destroyed the last chance of peace. Till that moment, the good angel had prevailed; but now the bad angel is speaking. But if there is one man in Europe who cannot avail himself of this blunder to rid himself of the responsibility of war, that man is surely the tempter of 1868….

_To Mr. Dempster_

_Ballachulish, August 14th_.–As it is entirely to you that we owe our residence in this enchanting place, it would be very ungrateful not to tell you how much we are enjoying it. I think it is by far the most picturesque spot in all Scotland; and ever since we arrived, ten days ago, the sea has been as blue as the Aegean, and the hills as clear as the isles of Greece. Not one cloud or shower in ten days, but the heat so great that we find shooting arduous work. There is not much game, but I am better off than most of my neighbours, who complain loudly. I think I can insure any day five or six brace. It certainly is not a good year, nor is this a grouse country…. I think, whatever else this war may bring about, it has finished the Empire and the Emperor, and so far I rejoice; but I confess I have no sympathy at all with the Prussians.

_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, September 10th_.–I am just up, my dear Sir, having been in bed for a fortnight. Grief and indignation are unhealthy at eighty-three. I am better, and only wish I was as sure of the convalescence of France as of my own. It is true that France has before her more time for recovery than I have.

I will say nothing of the fallen Empire. I should say more than is seemly and less than is true. Never was fall more deserved, more necessary, and more absolute.

Neither will I say anything of the new Government. It is what it professes to be, a power pledged to defend the country. A national constituent Assembly has just been convoked, and meanwhile everything will be done to preserve the honour and integrity of France. This, for the present, is the one idea and the one passion of the whole country, especially of Paris. I hope that the deeds will correspond to the passion.

There are two points on which, in spite of my present weakness, I wish to give you my opinion at once, so as to awaken your interest, and the interest of all the friends of European order and of France now in England.

There is much to be regretted in the general policy of Europe since 1815. Many faults have been committed which might have been avoided, many improvements which might have been made have been miscalculated or have passed as dreams. But throughout this age, and for more than half a century, rising above all faults and blunders, royal or popular, diplomatic or parliamentary, one great and novel fact has dominated the policy of Europe–there has been no question of a war of ambition and of conquest; no State has attempted to aggrandise itself by force at the expense of other States; [Footnote: Guizot’s enthusiasm or patriotism here led him into a somewhat reckless assertion. In point of fact, there was not one of the great Continental Powers which, during the previous fifty years, had not ‘attempted to aggrandise itself by force,’ and, necessarily, ‘at the expense of other States.’ With the exception of Austria, they had done more than ‘attempt’–they had effected the aggrandisement.] respect for peace and the law of nations has become a ruling maxim of international policy. When internal revolution in any State has rendered territorial changes necessary, these changes have been recognised and accepted only after the examination and consent of Europe. Belgium and Greece have taken rank as European States only by the putting on one side all the yearnings of French, Russian, or English ambition. And when, in 1844 and 1848, the Emperor Nicholas, in his familiar interviews with your ambassador at St. Petersburg, proposed that Russia and England should act in concert, and by joint conquest, as he said, put an end to the decrepitude of the Ottoman Empire, two English ministers, Lord Aberdeen and Lord John Russell, to their great honour, rejected any such idea, as an outrage on the law of nations, and the peace of Europe.

I have no hesitation in affirming, my dear Sir, that this is the greatest and most salutary feature of the first half of this century, and has contributed more than anything else to the revival of principles of equity and justice in the relations between governments and their people, to the increased prosperity of different nations, and to the progress of civilisation in the world. And, new as its rule yet is, this fact has been sufficient to stop, or at least to check in their evil developements, the noxious germs of an ambitious and violent policy, revivified in Europe by the revolutionary crises of 1848. Temptations have certainly not been wanting to governments and parties since that date. But in 1848 the French Republic respected the peace of Europe and the law of nations; in 1852 the French Empire hastened to declare that it was peace; and when, leaving that, she threw herself into the Italian war, is it credible that she would have been contented with Nice and Savoy as the price of the support she gave to the Italians if she had not been restrained by the good modern principle of European policy, the condemnation of the spirit of ambition and conquest? [Footnote: Not to speak of the chance of having to deal with Prussia. Cf. _ante_, p. 27.]

It is this legitimate and guiding principle which is at present ignored, attacked, and in great danger. I have no intention of entering here upon the question of German unity, or of inquiring how far the consequences of Sadowa are to be attributed to the real and spontaneous effort of national sentiment amongst the Germans. I waive all discussion on this point.

I do not suppose anyone will say that in this great German event Prussian ambition had no share, or that force and conquest did not act side by side with the impulse of national sentiment. But I do not now meddle with what has been done in Germany; that has nothing in common with the present pretensions of Prussia to Alsace and Lorraine. Have these provinces given any manifestation, any appearance, of a desire to be included in the German unity? Is not the Prussian policy in this openly and exclusively a policy of ambition and of conquest, such as would have been followed, from more or less specious motives of royal or national selfishness, by Louis XIV. in the seventeenth, by Frederick II. in the eighteenth, by Napoleon I. in the nineteenth century? such as the modern publicists and moralists have so often condemned and fought against? such, in fine, as all nations, in all ages–and especially Europe in our own times–have so cruelly suffered from? I say no more. I should be ashamed to insist upon what is so clear.

I have nothing to do with Utopian ideas. I do not believe in perpetual peace, nor in the absolute rule of the law of nations as affecting the rivalries of governments and the facts of history. I know that ambitious intrigue and violent enterprise will always have a part in the destinies of nations. I only ask that ambition and force shall not be permitted to take that part, controlled only by their own will. At least they ought to be recognised for what they are, and called by their right names; their claims, and the results of them, ought to be placed face to face with the policy of peace and the law of nations; and, lastly, it ought not to be forgotten that this, the only durable and good policy, has prevailed in Europe for half a century, and that it would be shameful and unfortunate to allow it to fall undefended before the first success of the old policy of ambition and conquest.

In the severe and dangerous trial which she is now undergoing, France may strengthen herself with the thought that her present and personal policy is in exact agreement with the European policy of peace and the law of nations. France has no ambition, no remote designs or secret aim; she asks for nothing; she is defending her rights, her honour, and her territory. Will the Powers, who have hitherto proclaimed their neutrality, assist her by assisting to maintain the European policy of peace and the law of nations? I shall be surprised if they do not, the more so as they could do it without seriously compromising themselves. If their intervention by force of arms were necessary, it would undoubtedly be at once effective; but any such necessity is quite out of the question; the neutral Powers are stronger than they themselves are perhaps aware, and their moral strength is amply sufficient. Let them plainly assert their disapproval of this attack on the territorial integrity of France; and in support of their disapproval, let them declare that, in any case, they will not recognise any change in the territory of France which France herself will not accept. It is my deep and firm conviction that this would be sufficient to put an end to any such attempt, and to check the policy of ambition and conquest, without which the peace of Europe cannot be re-established. Is France to be left alone to sustain this great and good cause at all risks? or will the neutral Powers, without any great risk to themselves, give her such support as will ensure her triumph? It is for the Powers to answer this question. I am very old to be surprised at anything; and yet I should be surprised if England did not see the greatness of the part she is called upon to play under existing circumstances. For many years she sustained in Europe, by war, the policy of respect for the laws of nations; will she not uphold it to-day by peace?

Adieu, my dear Sir, je suis fatigué. Je vais me coucher, et tout à vous,


Should you think proper to make any use of this letter, either by privately showing it to anyone, or by giving it a wider publicity, I have no objection. I leave the question of fitness and opportunity in England to you. For my part, my only wish is that my opinions and sentiments in this important crisis should be well known both in France and England.

The following note is endorsed by Reeve ‘Due d’Aumale on the capitulation of Sedan,’ which took place on September 2nd. It is, however, impossible to suppose that the Due d’Aumale did not hear of an event so astounding till three weeks after it had happened, and the note probably refers more immediately to the occupation of Versailles by the Prussians under the Crown Prince, on September 20th, or the reported arrival on the 23rd of General Bourbaki at Chislehurst, to consult with the Empress about the surrender of Metz. The endorsement was most likely written some time afterwards, and in momentary forgetfulness of the date.

_From the Due d’Aumale_

Orleans House, 23 septembre.

Cher Monsieur,—Jamais je n’aurais cru que je vivrais assez pour voir un pareil jour. Vous devinez tout ce que mon coeur éprouve.

Vous êtes du bien petit nombre de ceux avec qui il m’est possible de causer en ce moment, et vous me ferez du bien si vous venez déjeuner ici dimanche prochain, 25, à midi 1/2. Mille amitiés,


_From Lord Granville_

Walmer Castle, October 2nd.

My dear Reeve,–I was very sorry to miss an opportunity of seeing you twice last week. Our hours are late, while you adopt the judicious maxim of Charles Lamb. I thought the article [Footnote: Gladstone’s article (see _ante_, p.178) which was published in the October number of the _Review_. Lord Granville saw the proof slips.] excellent and very instructive; not always quite judicial. It will be read with immense pleasure on its own merits.

As far as we have gone we have surely adhered to the declaration made to Parliament–‘Neutrality, with as friendly relations as is compatible with impartiality; exercise of the duties and maintenance of our rights, as neutrals.’ We have protected Belgium with minimum risk to ourselves. We have given advice when it was acceptable and effective, such as that which led to the meeting of Favre and Bismarck. We have not obtruded advice when it would have been impotent excepting for harm. We hae reserved complete liberty of action for any contingency. All the neutral nations have been at our feet, anxious to know what we would do, professing to be ready to follow our example. One of the belligerents has already come to us for assistance. Those who think we have done nothing of course consider it an easy and inglorious task; but it requires a little firmness to resist not only the complaints of belligerents and the cajoleries of neutrals, but also the changeable gusts of public opinion at home. Yours sincerely,


_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, October 2nd._–I understand you, my dear Sir; ‘you’ meaning your Cabinet. You want to see if France will defend herself energetically enough, obstinately enough, to warrant the neutral Powers saying to the Prussians, ‘What you attempt is impossible; you are stirring up an interminable contest, which is becoming an evil and a peril for Europe.’ Until that moment comes, your Cabinet does not think that the intervention of the neutral Powers in favour of peace could be effective.

Many reasons, some good, some plausible, may be adduced in support of a waiting policy. But take care! it often aggravates the questions it postpones. Consider what is actually taking place at the present moment. Prussia puts forward her claims more and more distinctly; France is exasperated and rejects them more and more positively. You can have no idea of the effect produced throughout France by the conversation of M. de Bismarck with M. Jules Favre. Bismarck, indeed, seems to have some notion of it, for he attempts to extenuate what he said or allowed to be understood. Evidently the result of this interview has been to leave the belligerents mutually more embittered than they were before; and the intervention of the neutral Powers at the present time is thus rendered more difficult.

I now put this incident on one side, and am going to the root of the matter. You want to see if France will defend herself energetically and obstinately. Look at what she has done already. The Prussians have certainly obtained great successes. They have beaten two of our regular armies. At this moment they are before Paris. Is Paris terror-struck? Do the Prussians enter it? I am not trusting to child’s talk and vulgar boasting. My son William, and my son-in-law Cornelis de Witt, are now both in Paris, both in the National Guard, both clever, sensible men, not credulous, not given to boasting, and good judges of what is going on around them. They both write that Paris is able and determined to defend itself obstinately. And among the most cautious of my friends, those who doubted it at first are now of the same opinion as my sons. By the last balloon from Paris I received a letter, dated September 21st, from a simple, obscure citizen. He writes:–‘Our Paris, bristling with bayonets, is a splendid sight; perfect order, glowing patriotism, and a resolve to fight to the death. The insolence of Bismarck’s reply to Jules Favre has enraged and electrified all hearts. The Prussians will pay dearly for their blunder in condemning us to heroism or despair. Yesterday was a good day; in two places, Villejuif and St. Denis, we attacked the Prussians and defeated them.’

I do not know if this degree of ardour and confidence is to be accepted as general. I quote it as an illustration of the feeling in Paris on the seventh day of the siege. The fighting is at present round the fortifications; later on it will be on the ramparts, and then in the streets. First the detached forts; then the _enceinte_; then the barricades. And when it comes to these–if it ever gets so far–independent of the organised forces of all kinds, there will be the populace, the Paris mob, intelligent and bold men, who fight well on the barricades for the very fun of it.

How long will this defence of Paris last? I do not know, and am not going to prophesy. But what I do know, what I hear from all sides, is that it will last long enough to excite a patriotic and warlike sentiment through the whole land. France is not peopled with heroes; there are the bold and the timid, as in every other country; but there are heroes enough–and others will arise–to keep the nation in a state of fever, and consequently Europe in a state of alarm inconsistent with true peace, with the prosperity of the nations and the security of European order.

The Prussians, and, as I am told, Bismarck himself, have reckoned, and are perhaps still reckoning, on our internal dissensions and quarrels, kept alive by the traditions and the hopes of the old parties. It is a natural error, but made in complete ignorance of the actual state of things. National sentiment has overcome the old discord. One sole, universal and absorbing passion dominates all parties–the passion of defending the soil and honour of France. Two of the most illustrious Vendéens, MM. de Cathelineau et Stofflet, have asked for and received from the Government an authorisation to assist them against the Prussians. MM. Rochefort and Gustave Flourens, formerly the most ardent democrats, have joined the government of General Trochu, and are preparing barricades, to maintain a fierce struggle against the besiegers at the gates and in the streets of Paris, if it should ever be necessary.

7 P.M.–My letter was interrupted by the arrival of the evening papers, and a letter from my daughter Pauline, dated September 25th, brought by a balloon. I copy the following, _verbatim_:–

‘After being on guard the day before yesterday, for twenty-six hours, without anything worse than repeated alarms, my husband and son returned and are somewhat rested. Yesterday we went to Montmartre–a very populous and stirring quarter. I cannot tell you often enough how well Paris is behaving; enthusiasm and unanimity prevail everywhere; the good and the wise have silenced the fools. This will raise up France; it is a balm for many sorrows. I can assure you the country is not demoralised. I do not know how long the trial will last, but we shall be the better for it.’

Admit that if this conduct is maintained, if Paris–which in June 1848 suppressed the revolutionary anarchy in her own bosom–in 1870 stops a foreign invasion, and holds it at bay before her ramparts, it will be a great deed, worthy of esteem and sympathy. If in presence of such a fact, your neutrality should continue cold and inert, the friends of European peace and of the good understanding between France and England would have great cause for astonishment. It is for this reason that I conjure England and her Government to give the matter their serious consideration.

The Journal here gives a short sketch of a month’s holiday:–

October 12th.–Started for Ireland. Crossed in a gale. To Dunsany on the 14th. 15th, drove with Lord Dunsany to Trim; saw the castle; Larachor, Swift’s living; Dangan, now quite ruined; and back by Lord Longford’s. 17th, to Dartrey. Met the Verulams there, and Lady Meath. 21st, drove to Coote Hill fair. 24th, to Belfast and Clandeboye. Some days with Lord Dufferin at Clandeboye. Professor Andrews came over from Belfast. 30th, back to Dublin to stay with Mansfield, who was now commander-in-chief in Ireland. Saw Lord Spencer–lord-lieutenant. November 1st, crossed to Holyhead and went to Teddesley, where Christine joined me. Back to town on the 5th.

_From Lord Stanhope_

_Chevening, October 11th_.–I have been reading with much interest the article on Queen Anne in the ‘Edinburgh,’ and I hope you will allow me to express to you how much I am gratified at the favourable view which it takes of my performance. The reviewer and I, as I am glad to find, often agree in our views of men and things; and whenever we differ, our difference is expressed in terms that cannot but give great pleasure to any author.

The reviewer, in this case, has certainly one main advantage over some of my other critics. They seem to have no knowledge of Queen Anne’s reign except what my book imparted to them, and they therefore criticised my book on its own merits or demerits alone. Here, on the contrary, the writer is, I see, most deeply versed in all the memoirs and published records of those times, which he can bring to bear with great effect upon any passage that he desires either to controvert or to confirm.

It strikes me very forcibly, from my acquaintance with your style, that the writer of this article is no other than yourself. [Footnote: The article was by Herman Merivale (d. 1874).] If so, pray accept my sincere thanks; if not, pray convey them from me to the critic unknown.

Lady Stanhope and I have been to North Wales and Devonshire, but settled at Chevening ten or twelve days ago. From here we went without delay to call upon the Empress at Chislehurst; as indeed we were bound to do, having in former years received great kindness from them, and been their guests for a week at Compiègne. Nothing could be more touching and gracious than her manner. She had tears in her eyes all the while we were with her, and her voice was often choked by emotion; yet she did not let fall a single word of invective or personal reproach against her enemies in France. She told me that her first wish on reaching England had been to proceed with her son to the Emperor at Wilhelmshöhe; but on applying to the Prussian authorities, she could obtain no assurance that she and her son should not be treated as prisoners of war; and under these circumstances the Emperor forbade her to come.

Poor, poor Paris! when shall you and I ever see it again?

_From Lord Westbury_

_Hinton, November 11th_. I kept myself free from engagements during the first three weeks of November, thinking I might be called on to do suit and service at the Judicial Committee; but I have not made any provision for December, as I thought it was fully understood (certainly by me) at the end of last session, that, from the end of Michaelmas term until Christmas, the Lords Justices would have charge of the Judicial Committee for the whole of each week, or certainly four days in every week. We calculated that the most important business on the appeal side in Chancery would be so reduced by the two courts of appeal during Michaelmas term that the Lord Chancellor alone would suffice for all necessities during December. I have therefore postponed every engagement here until December. My house will be full; I cannot therefore give you any aid; but I am not sorry for it, for if the arrears were at all reduced, _nothing would be done_ in the appointment of a permanent tribunal, with a proper staff of judges. You must still be Atlas staggering under the weight of your huge _Orbis Causarum_. Around your feet must be millions of Hindoos, crying aloud for justice. It is only this spectacle for gods and men that will move the Government to do its duty.

It would be easy for me to attend if my establishment and family were in town. But if I promised you a fortnight in December, I must put off numerous engagements and remove my servants, horses, &c., to London, only to bring them down again here for Christmas; or, at the risk of being ill as well as wretched, I must go to London alone, into a cold deserted house, with the attendance at most of two female servants. No; you must get as much as you can out of the Lords Justices, who must begin the task of learning Hindoo and Mahomedan law. Besides, if I disposed of twenty Indian appeals in December (a most unlikely thing), it would be the signal for adding forty more to the list, and so you would be more encumbered than ever. It is useless to make these poor spasmodic efforts. The thing must be done effectually. You are hopelessly bankrupt, and the driblets of aid you solicit will not enable you to stave off ruin.

An article by Mr. Knatchbull-Hugessen on the ‘Business of the House of Commons,’ published in the ‘Edinburgh Review’ for January 1871, was submitted in proof to the Speaker, Mr. Denison, whose comments drew from the writer the following reply:–

_From Mr. E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen_ [Footnote: At this time under-secretary of state for the Home Department: created Lord Brabourne in 1880; died in 1893.]

_Smeeth, November 23rd_.–The Speaker knows more than I do, if he knows that it is an understood thing ‘that a committee shall next session be appointed to consider the present mode of conducting the public business.’ It is not generally known; and I doubt the policy of alluding, in an article which may be read by the public generally, to that which is only known to a privileged few. You, however, must be the best judge, and of course I have no objection to insert a sentence or two of allusion to this fact (?) [Footnote: The (?) is Mr. Knatchbull-Hugessen’s.] if you wish it; but if pressing business–or war–postpones this committee, the ‘Review’ will look rather foolish.

When you say the article is ‘rather too multifarious,’ I quite agree that it might be condensed and curtailed. But even had I time to go through it again with this intention, I frankly own that I should doubt the expediency of doing so. I wrote it _currente calamo_, and my object was to attack the existing system upon many points at once, in order to carry some–just as an army besieging a town may make half a dozen attacks, of which three, being feints, give a better chance of success to the other three. You will observe that I do sum up the four prominent points: 1, _clôture_; 2, limitations of motions for adjournment; 3, public bill revision committee; 4, restrictions upon counts-out.

I quite agree with what the Speaker writes about our ‘absurdly late hours.’ I have no strong feeling upon the Wednesday question, and perhaps the Speaker is right, although I think the point is alluded to in a manner not too strong nor too ‘disparaging’ to the fixed hour, as I only recommend that a division, instead of an adjournment, either upon main question or adjournment, should take place compulsorily at the fixed hour.

I return you the Speaker’s letter. I don’t know whether you could conveniently run down here on Saturday and spend a quiet Sunday. You would find my wife and me alone, excepting Godfrey Lushington, who is coming to discuss highway bills. We could have a talk over the matter then. If you cannot manage it, write me word how you wish the article altered, and I will do it. I confess, however, that I think, as a preliminary attack upon abuses which will require closer and more detailed grappling with hereafter, it had better not be much altered.

_From the Queen of Holland_

Hague, December 26th.

My dear Mr. Reeve, [Footnote: The Queen of Holland seems to have laid down a somewhat curious rule in regard to her correspondence with Reeve: when she was in Holland, she wrote to him in English; when she was in England, she wrote in French.]–Your most interesting letter reached me a few days ago. Ever since, I have been trying to get some of the papers relating to the Luxembourg question; however, the one enclosed is the only one I have been able to obtain. Such is the fear of the kingdom of the Netherlands to be involved in any of the impending Luxembourg difficulties, that everything relating to that part of the world is scrupulously ignored; and if the papers are not claimed at Luxembourg, where the most jealous of men, Prince Henry, governs, you cannot obtain the real truth. The fact is, Mr. de Bismarck _a cherché une querelle d’Allemand_, first to obtain a free passage through the Luxembourg railroads; in the future, to annex the little grand duchy, to close the frontier on that side entirely.

This, however, is still kept for a few months hence, as Mr. de B. would not be put quite on the same line with Prince Gortschakoff, though they are perfectly of the same opinion.

It is a sad time, a very bad symptom, when principles, engagements, treaties, are all _à la merci_ of two or three unscrupulous men.

Forgive the haste in which I am compelled to write, this time of the year being particularly busy. Remember me kindly to Mrs. Reeve, and believe me, dear Mr. Reeve, very sincerely yours,


The Journal here has:–

The French artists being driven over by the war, Millais gave a dinner, on December 20th, to Gérôme and Heilbuth–interesting. I took Gérôme to see Herbert’s Moses in the House of Lords, but it was invisible from a fog.

We all dined with Lady Molesworth on Christmas Day, and ended the year with the Van de Weyers at New Lodge.

January 3rd, 1871.–We had a small dinner to Sir William Mansfield and Lord Elcho. On the 5th to Aldermaston (Higford Burr), with Bruce, [Footnote: Afterwards Lord Aberdare.] Colvile, [Frank Buckland], &c.

Professor Sybel was not one of Reeve’s frequent correspondents, and the following extract is from the only letter of his which has been preserved, probably the only one ever written. The primary cause of it was some trifling business connected with the exchange of publications–the ‘Edinburgh Review’ and Sybel’s ‘Historische Zeitschrift;’ but, having settled that, the course of events tempted him, as a German and an historian, to continue.

_From Professor von Sybel_

Bonn, January 9th.

Hochgeehrter Herr,–… What a change in our circumstances since I had last the pleasure of seeing you! To us, Germans, it would often appear as a dream, did not our sacrifices and our efforts bring the reality vividly before us. The desire for a speedy conclusion of the war is general; but, I am proud to say, no less general is the determination to fight and to bleed till we have brought it to a satisfactory issue. We are resolved not to be attacked again as we were in July, and on that account we will move our frontier to the Vosges. We will fight until the French acknowledge us as having rights and position equal to their own, till the organs of their Government cease from their New Year animadversion, such as the ‘Siècle’ has published, and we will crush everyone who calls in question our place as one of the Great Powers of Europe; and in thus rooting out this boast of supremacy, we believe we are earning the gratitude of all Europe.

Hochachtungsvoll und ergebenst

H. v. SYBEL.

_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, January 16th._–I received the ‘Edinburgh Review’ yesterday, and read your article at once. It is excellent–the language of a profound observer, and of a true friend of France. There are pages I should like all my countrymen at all able to understand them to learn by heart, among others from these words (p. 22): ‘The life of man is so short,’ to these: ‘the collective strength of a nation may be sensibly diminished by it.’ You have here laid your finger on the great evil of our democracy: ‘It readily sacrifices the past and the future to what is supposed to be the interest of the present.’ If I were in Paris, I should like to have a translation of nearly the whole article [Footnote: ‘France,’ in the _Review_ for January 1871. The article was republished in _Royal and Revolutionary France_, with the title ‘France in 1871.’] published in our newspapers. But I am not there; the Prussian shells go in my stead.

I am told that the opening of your Parliament is fixed for February 8th. I will wait until you can let me know this with certainty, and will then send you the letter I mentioned. But I must beg you not to forward it to its address till my translator–Miss Martin–reports to you that it is ready. It seems to me very desirable that the translation should be published as soon as the letter itself has been delivered. I understand that, on this condition, the ‘Times’ will give the whole of it, which will ensure it the widest possible publicity in England, where its publicity is the most important. The French edition will not appear till after the translation has been published in the ‘Times.’

_From the Queen of Holland_

Hague, January 17th.

Dear Mr. Reeve,–I have received your letter. I have received the ‘Edinburgh Review.’ I did not glance over the pages, I read and re-read them; and I thank you for the real enjoyment they have afforded me. True in thought, admirable in expression, there can be but one judgement on both your articles, and I will certainly endeavour to have them translated into Dutch, to spread the truth. Allow me only to regret the great severity with which you treat the fallen Empire. I put aside every personal feeling, but I remain convinced that posterity will be more lenient in judgement than the present in the raging storm. There were faults in the system, inherent and inherited. As to the head of the system, few men have been more naturally kind and good. He had the weakness of these natures–wishing to content everyone. No question of principle seemed to him worthy of the inestimable enjoyment of peace. Avec les différents partis il se laissait aller à des paroles, à des engagements contradictoires; de là une apparence de dissimulation, bien éloignée de sa nature. The prisoner of Wilhelmshöhe belongs to the past. To those that have known and loved him falls the task of obtaining justice for him. I cannot talk of the present events, of the destruction of Paris. I bow my head and I hope in God’s justice.

Will you remember me kindly to Mrs. Reeve? and believe me, with real gratitude, truly and sincerely yours,


_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, February 7th._–I have received from Mr. Gladstone a letter dated January 30th, as friendly as possible towards myself, but vague and evasive in respect to the policy of the Cabinet in the present situation. Not only does he postpone every measure, every indication of his intentions till after the election and the opening of the National Assembly, which is very natural, but he gives no hint as to how far his Government will insist respecting the conditions of peace. It is, of course, impossible for me to argue the point with him–such a discussion would be unbecoming both on his part and mine. I understand his reserve, but I can neither accept the reasons for it nor its results. It is therefore to you that I address my further observations in support of my letter of January 18th, begging you to communicate them to Mr. Gladstone, who will quite understand why I do not address them to himself. I should also be glad to know if he would object to the publication of his letter of January 30th, and of that which I am now sending you? For my part I wish this publicity, in both England and France; but I will not authorise it without his approval.

If this should be agreed on, pray let me know your opinion as to publishing it in the ‘Times.’ I am sure that, in this case, Miss Martin would undertake the translation.

The Journal notes:–

_February 18th_–Pleasant dinner at Mansfields’, though Mansfield himself was carried off by the Prince of Wales.

_26th_.–Dinner at Lord Granville’s, to meet the Duc de Broglie, who came as ambassador.

_From M. Guizot_

_Val Richer, March 4th_.–Your sad predictions were well founded; the painful abscission has been made; we bore it at least with good sense and dignity. Without discussion or delay, the National Assembly has accepted the peace imposed upon it; and the population of Paris left the Prussian corps to parade through one single quarter of the town in solitude and silence. The Prussians have not seen Paris, and Paris did not go to see the Prussians. Their triumph had no spectators. Their present policy is one more example, after so many others, of the insolent and blind folly of victors who sow the seeds of war at the moment they are making peace. You can have no idea of the passionate sentiment of sorrow and anger which fills the soul of France, in all classes and in every part of the country. It is impossible to say when and under what form the future will mark this feeling, but it is written. One cannot tire of repeating the last words of the Chancellor Oxenstiern to his son when starting for the tour through Europe: ‘Ito mi fili et inspice quam parvâ sapientiâ mundus regitur’ …

The Journal continues:–

_March 16th_.–Dinner at home to the Duc de Broglie, the Dartreys, Mintos, Houghton, and Lady Molesworth.

_April 1st_.–Went to Draycott on a visit to the Cowleys. The Lavalettes there and the old Duchess of Cleveland. Went on to Bath to try the waters there. Bath, however, did no good to the gout, of which I had, all this spring, repeated attacks. Saw Wells Cathedral, Glastonbury, and Longleat. Over to Bristol, and then back to town on April 15th.

No sooner was the siege of Paris ended and peace signed, than the frightful insurrection of the Commune broke out in Paris; the city was for many weeks in complete possession of the mob; Thiers and the army retired on Versailles, and recommenced the siege of Paris by French troops. The Archbishop and other hostages were murdered, and at last the city was set on fire. Nothing even in the First Revolution equalled the madness of this period. What a curious contrast to the even tenour of London life! I find in my diaries no trace of these tremendous catastrophes.

_May 1st_.–International Art Exhibition opened. I went in my doctor’s robes and orders; the only time I ever wore them.

_From M. Guizot_

Val Richer, 4 juin.

My dear Sir,–La destruction a atteint son terme, l’oeuvre de reconstruction commence. Elle sera très difficile, mais je n’en désespère pas, et j’y prendrai quelque part sans sortir de ma cellule. Quelle vie que la mienne! Mon plus ancien souvenir politique est d’avoir vu de loin, du haut d’une terrasse de la petite maison de campagne où ma mère s’était réfugiée pendant la Terreur, en 1794, les Jacobins poursuivis et assommés par la réaction contre Robespierre au 9 thermidor. La scène se passait sur les boulevards de Nismes. J’assiste en 1871, de la campagne aussi, à la chûte des nouveaux Jacobins, vrais héritiers et élèves de la Terreur. Et que n’ai-je pas vu, en fait d’événement, dans cet intervalle de 77 ans!

Sur ce je vous dis adieu. Je me porte assez bien, malgré mes 83 ans et ces spectacles Shakspeariens. La France est, depuis 1789, une immense tragedie de Shakspeare.

Tout à vous,


Reverting to the Journal:–

Mr. Grote died on June 18th. I attended the funeral in Westminster Abbey on the 24th. John Mill and Overstone were among the pall-bearers.

At The Club dinner, on June 20th, the Duc d’Aumale took leave of us before returning to France. There were present: the Lord Chancellor (Hatherley), Master of the Rolls [Romilly], Duke of Cleveland, Lord Salisbury, Lord Derby, Sir H. Holland, Dean Stanley, W. Smith, and self.

About this time I was made a Companion of the Order of the Bath. Lord Ripon, then Lord President, had asked them to make me a K.C.B., but Gladstone wrote me word that it was a rule that men should pass through the third grade to arrive at the second. [Footnote: That there was such a rule has been very fully proved by numerous exceptions.] Arthur Helps and William Stephenson were made C.B.’s at the same time, and afterwards K.C.B.’s. I was gazetted a C.B. on June 30th.

The following from Lord Granville refers to a conversation in the House of Lords on the constitution of the Appellate Court of the Judicial Committee. The Marquis of Salisbury had said that in his opinion it should be a court of fixed constitution.

At present it was often difficult to discover who were the judges in the particular case. He believed the President of the Council in every case appointed the judges; but, as he understood, it was practically done by a gentleman for whom all had the greatest respect, Mr. Henry Reeve, the Registrar. This did not seem a satisfactory state of things for a tribunal dealing with matters which excited people’s passions and feelings to the highest degree, and on which parties were angrily divided. Nobody conversant with the matter could harbour the unworthy suspicion that the Court was ever packed for the trial of a particular case–he had no apprehensions on that score; but it was because the action and constitution of the Court should be above all suspicion that he would urge the noble and learned lord on the woolsack to provide some fixed constitution, so that the Court should not be constituted afresh for each particular case it had to consider.

Lord Granville replied in the sense of his letter to Reeve, except that he said ‘Mr. Reeve invariably consulted _the Lord President_, who, on some occasions, called a Cabinet Council.’ The Lord President at that time was the Marquis of Ripon. Granville was followed by Lord Cairns, who said:–

He could testify from considerable experience to the way in which Mr. Reeve performed his duties. The fact was that there was a great unwillingness to attend, and undergo the great labour and responsibility of hearing important cases. Mr. Reeve, knowing this, and having an earnest desire to perform the duties of his office effectively–no public officer could discharge them better–was in the habit of making himself acquainted with the arrangements of those who might be expected to attend, with a view–not to decide who ought to attend to hear particular cases–but as to whose services were obtainable, in order that some kind of Court might be constituted…. It ought to be understood that no person had any power of selecting some and excluding others, and that the Registrar’s endeavour to procure the attendance of individuals had merely arisen from anxiety lest there should be no quorum. [Footnote: Hansard, 1871, June 22nd, cols. 389-91.]

_From Lord Granville_

16 _Bruton Street, June 23rd_.–I see the report in the ‘Times’ is defective. I stated that the Lord President was undoubtedly responsible for all that you did. I paid a high tribute to your services to the Judicial Committee (which was cheered by the law lords); I said the difficulty was often great to collect sufficient members to attend; that you took great pains, by ascertaining the wishes and possible dates, to ensure this; that for ordinary meetings of the Court you acted on your own judgement; but that in all cases where there was a possibility of party or personal feeling being made a cause of want of confidence in the composition of the Court, you had always consulted me; and I had, on some occasions, not only consulted the Home Office, but the Cabinet, in order to do that which would ensure public confidence. I should not be sorry if you could show that I was not in the wrong. I was delighted to hear of your C.B. None could be more deserved.

The Journal records:–

_July 7th_.–I dined with Mrs. Grote; one of the first persons she saw after Grote’s death.

_8th_.–A banquet was given at the Crystal Palace to the members of the Comédie Française, who had been driven over to London by the siege of Paris and the Commune.

This ‘banquet’ was of the nature of a lunch, beginning at two o’clock. Lord Dufferin was in the chair, supported by Lords Granville, Stanhope, Powerscourt, Lytton, Houghton, Mr. Disraeli, Tennyson, Macready, and others. When ‘the desire of eating was taken away,’ the chairman, speaking in French, proposed the health of the guests. M. Got responded. Horace Wigan, too, spoke; and Lord Granville, ‘whose fluent command of extempore French excited general admiration,’ gave ‘The Health of the Chairman,’ and, with a neat reference to the ‘Letters from High Latitudes,’ then 14, not 41 years old, said: ‘L’accueil que vous avez donné à son discours doit rassurer Lord Dufferin et lui faire même oublier les succès oratoires que–Latiniste incomparable, et voué au purisme Cicéronien–il a obtenus dans les régions plus septentrionales.’ To this chaff Lord Dufferin replied in English: ‘Lord Granville has been good enough to allude to what he is pleased to describe as an oratorical triumph in a distant country; and I would venture to remind you–and you may take the word of an experienced person in confirmation of what I am about to say–that when anybody wishes to make a speech in a foreign language, he will find it much more easy to do so after dinner than at an early hour in the morning.’

For Reeve this wound up the season. A few days later, July 23rd, he, with his wife, started for Germany.



Dr. de Mussy had recommended Reeve to drink the water at Carlsbad, so to Carlsbad they went, and stayed there twenty-four days. The manner of life at Carlsbad may be very wholesome, but no one has ever ventured to speak of it as jovial. The Reeves thought it ‘dull enough,’ and left it with a feeling of release, on August 23rd. On the 24th they were at Dresden, and reached home on September 3rd. And then came a curious reaction; a disagreeable experience of the Carlsbad treatment. ‘Henry,’ wrote Mrs. Reeve a few days later, ‘who had been quite well and quite free from gout all the time, had a tendency thereto on leaving Hamburg, which, on landing at Gravesend, was a sharp attack in the right hand. He cannot hold a pen…. His doctor and some fellow-patients all say that after Carlsbad waters such attacks are frequent, and that they in no way imply that the waters did not suit.’ The Journal goes on:–

_September 16th_.–To Gorhambury [Lord Verulam’s] with Christine. On leaving the house on the 18th to go to the station, the horse in the fly ran away. We were overturned near the park gates, and had a narrow escape. Nobody was hurt, and we drove on [in another fly] to Lord Ebury’s at Moor Park.

_October 2nd_.–To Scotland on a visit to Moncreiff at Cultoquhey; thence to Minard (Mr. Pender’s) on Loch Fyne; thence to Edinburgh; Ormiston on the 21st; the John Stanleys there and Lord Neaves. [Footnote: A lord of justiciary, one of the foremost authorities on criminal law in Scotland, and for more than forty years a regular contributor of prose and verse to _Blackwood’s Magazine_.] Lady Ruthven to dinner.

_26th_.–To Auchin, and home on the 28th.

A bill had passed at the close of the last session for the appointment of four paid members of the Privy Council. They were Sir James Colvile, Sir Barnes Peacock, Sir Montague Smith, and Sir Robert Collier. These judges began to sit on November 6th of this year. The Court, from that time, sat continuously. I obtained an additional clerk, and also an addition of 300 £ a year to my own salary, which was fixed at 1,500 £.

Pleasant visit to New Lodge (Van de Weyer’s) in November. Shooting at Lithe Hill in December.

The Prince of Wales’s serious illness. He very nearly died on December 6th.

_December 20th_.–The Broglies dined with us, to meet Beust and the Foresters.

_22nd_.–Mrs. Forester asked us, at my desire, to meet Disraeli and Lady Beaconsfield, at a small party. There was nobody else there but Lord and Lady Colville. It was very interesting and agreeable.

1872.–The year opened in Paris, where I had gone after Christmas; the first time I had been there since the war. M. Thiers was President of the Republic. I went to Versailles to see him on January 3rd, and found him in the Préfecture–the room that had been occupied just before by the German Emperor. M. Lesseps was there that evening, and we returned to Paris together. He and his friends were apparently very anxious to sell the Suez Canal. I dined with Thiers on the 6th also.

M. Thiers’s conversation on the war, the Commune and the siege was very interesting. He said to me: ‘Certainement je suis pour la République! Sans la République qu’est-ce que je serais, moi?–bourgeois, Adolphe Thiers.’ He described the withdrawal of the troops from Paris, which was his own act. Then the siege, which he claims to have directed, the battery of Mouton Tout, adding, ‘Nous avons enterré, en entrant à Paris, vingt mille cadavres.’

Dined at Mme. Mohl’s on the 5th with M. de Loménie and M. Chevreuil, who is about eighty-five.

The Duc d’Aumale had opened his house in the Faubourg St.-Honoré; reception there.

_January 8th_.–Dined with the Economists to meet the Emperor of Brazil. I was presented to him, and made a speech in French on the maintenance of the commercial treaty, which was applauded. Back to London on the 9th.

Reeve had already proposed to Mr. Longman to publish a volume of his articles from the ‘Edinburgh Review.’ He now wrote to him:–

_C.O., January 11th_.–I find that the French articles I wish to collect and publish amount to _twelve_. I enclose a list of them. They make about 380 pages of the ‘Edinburgh Review’ form. How much will that make if printed in a smaller form? The title of the volume is an important matter. I have thought of ‘Royal and Republican France,’ or ‘A Cycle of French History;’ but I may think of something better. If you will make the arrangements, I shall be able to supply copy very soon. The introduction can be printed afterwards, I suppose?

I conclude you will publish on the half-profit plan, though my past experience of that system does not lead me to regard it as the road to fortune. Of our military volume about 650 copies were sold, and Chesney and I made 2 £. 3_s_. 0_d_. apiece!

To this Mr. Longman replied:–

_From Mr. T. Longman_

_January 14th_.–I will have the calculation made of the articles you mention. I conclude you would wish to print in the usual demy 8vo. form, like Macaulay’s Essays and all the other reprints from the ‘E.R.’

The plan of a division of profits has been usual in such republications; and it seems peculiarly adapted to them, as neither the contributor nor the publisher can republish separately without the consent of the other. Whether that plan of publication may be a road to fortune or not depends on the demand for the book. I had once the satisfaction of paying 20,000 £ on one year’s account, on that principle, to Lord Macaulay. I certainly had no expectation of a fortune from the republication which produced you 2 £ 3_s_. 0_d_.; but had I purchased the right of separate publication for 100 £, I hardly think you would have been satisfied that fortune should have so favoured you at my expense. It seems to be the fashion to decry that mode of publication; but there will always be books that can be published on no other terms, unless at the cost and risk of the author.

_From Lord Westbury_

_Hinton St. George, January 12th._–I am glad to find that you have returned in safety from Paris with your oratorical honours [Footnote: Of the French speech in Paris on the 8th.] rich upon you. I do not think that even Cicero ventured on making an oration in Greek, in Athens; but you have charmed fastidious Paris with your pure accent and your classic French. I was in despair when I found your eloquence imputed to another name; but I heard the error was so generally corrected that you may count on your fame descending unchallenged to posterity.

I should agree with you that Franco was to be despaired of, if France were to be considered as subject to ordinary rules. But she is, and has ever been, so anomalous, that ordinary moral reasoning from history is wholly inapplicable to her. At present, one would think she had reached the lowest depth of moral degradation. She might be usefully touched to the quick, if she could only believe that she is becoming ridiculous in the eyes of Europe.

Not that _we_ can expect a much better fate. When the Treaty of Washington was published, I strove to awaken in the minds of several leading men a full sense of its folly, and of the calamitous consequences that would be sure to follow from such an act of foolish, gratuitous submission; but I made no impression; not even as to the absurdity of introducing new and ill-considered rules, and giving them a retrospective operation. I succeeded with no one. I therefore concluded I must be in the wrong. Now, however, the American indictment bears testimony to the accuracy of my forebodings. I entreated Lord Granville not to permit the arbitration to go on upon such a basis, which it was never intended that the reference should cover or include. It is a fraudulent attempt to extend the reference most unwarrantably; and if the arbitration is permitted to proceed on such a claim, the consequences will be most disastrous. It is a sad spectacle to see a once gallant and high-spirited nation submitting tamely to be thus bullied. If not firmly protested against, and resisted _in limine_, you will have an award which England will repudiate with indignation; and war, the fear of which has made us submit to these indignities, will be sure to follow.

The relative attitudes of England and the United States in 1896 and 1897 have not materially differed from those of 1872. The policy which has been persistently followed by this country has not yet resulted in war, but it seems to many now, as it did to Lord Westbury then, extremely likely to do so. Peace between two such countries can only be assured when it rests on mutual respect and a community of interests. We may persuade ourselves that, in the main, our true interests are identical; but the recent diplomatic correspondence from the States does not tell of much respect.

But as to the point at issue in 1872, Reeve wrote in reply to Lord Westbury, about January 15th:–

I agree very much with what you say of the Treaty of Washington, and have never been able to prevail on myself to say a word in its favour. The result is that the fate and honour of this country are placed in the hands of a Swiss and a Brazilian referee, neither of whom knows a word of the English language! Lord Lyons told me so last week in Paris.

The Journal notes:–

_January 22nd_.–Visit to the Archbishop of Canterbury at Addington–pleasant; but in going up from Croydon on the 23rd, I was nearly killed by a runaway _hearse_, which struck my cab and knocked it over. I was not hurt, but two accidents in a year made me nervous. [Footnote: See ante, p. 201.]

_From Mr. H. F. Chorley_

18 Eaton Place West, February 8th.

My dear Reeve,–I send you what I have done _in re_ Hawthorne. I offer a character rather than a review, proved by extracts; since had I gone on _in extenso_ I don’t know where I should have stopped. Nothing but my strong wish to get my subject before the public could have made me carry out my article, poor as it is, seeing that I have written it half a leaf at a time, and with a weak, weary hand, the end of which will not impossibly be palsy. But I think as a character, when duly corrected, my work may not come out amiss. Ever yours faithfully, HENRY F. CHORLEY.

_Endorsed_–Chorley’s last note. He died about a week afterwards [suddenly on February 16th. The article had apparently not been finished, and was not published].

From the Journal:–

_January 24th_.–Went to see the Sandhursts at Brighton, but gout came on worse, and I was ill for some weeks. I presided at The Club, however, on the 27th, the Thanksgiving Day for the recovery of the Prince of Wales, and proposed his health.

_March 14th_.–I published a collection of my articles on French history and affairs under the title of ‘Royal and Republican France.’

_From Lord Derby_

23 _St. James’s Square, March 15th_.–Many thanks for your book on France. Most of the articles were familiar to me, but all will bear reading again. You here show up the weakness of French public life and the faults of French parties as no one else has done; and I do not recollect to have seen anywhere else pointed out the intimate connexion between the social state of modern France–with every old tradition destroyed, and the continuance of a family, as we understand the word here, rendered impossible–and the political condition, in which every public man is either fighting for his own personal interest and nothing else, or for the triumph of his particular theory of politics, which, if successful, is to be enforced despotically by all the power of a centralised administration. I have never thought so badly of the French future as now–no energy except among the Reds, no power of united action; general apathy even as to the present, and utter indifference to the future.

The Journal continues:–

_March 31st_.–Came down to Bournemouth for the first time with Hopie and the horses.

_April 8th_.–Rode to Hengistbury Head and saw for the first time the Southbourne estate. Dined with Lord Cairns. Back to town on the 9th.

_17th_.–Dined at Lord Derby’s. Sat next Lady Clanricarde, who, _à propos_ of Sir H. Holland’s ‘Past Life,’ talked about her father [Footnote: George Canning, _d_. 1827.] and his last illness. She said that in truth Holland saw Canning very little at Chiswick, and that it was Sir Matthew Tierney who really attended him; and then she told me the following story of Tierney:–News came from Clumber that the Duke of Newcastle was dangerously ill with typhus fever. Tierney was sent down as fast as post-horses could carry him. It was about 1823, in the pre-railway days; and when he arrived he was informed that the Duke had been dead about two hours. Shocked at this intelligence, he desired to see the corpse, which was already laid out. At his first glance he thought he was dead. At the second he doubted it. At the third he cried out, ‘Bring me up a bucket of brandy!’ They tore the clothes off the body and swathed it in a sheet imbibed with brandy, and then resorted to friction with brandy. In rather more than an hour symptoms of life began to manifest themselves, and in two hours the Duke was able to swallow. He recovered, and lived twenty-five years afterwards. Certainly this triumph over death beats even Dr. Gull’s nursing of the Prince of Wales. It is the myth of Hercules and Alcestis.

_May 4th_.–Visit to Drummond Wolff at Boscombe. A further look at Southbourne. I chose the site I afterwards purchased.

_8th_.–The King of the Belgians presided at the Literary Fund dinner. Disraeli made a capital speech.

_18th_.–Visit to Mrs. Grote at Sheire. Called at Albury. Many London dinners.

The Bennett case was heard at this time by the Judicial Committee. Long deliberation on the judgement at the Chancellor’s on June 1st. It was delivered on June 8th. [Footnote: See ‘The Bennett Judgement’ in _Edinburgh Review_, October 1872.]

_From Lord Westbury_

_June 1st_,–I am going to Oxford, and fear I may be late at the committee. There are very important subjects in which we wish to examine you; especially the danger, if not the illegality, of attempting by new legislation to create a new Appellate Jurisdiction for the Colonies.

_From Mr. E. Twisleton_

3 Rutland Gate, June 6th

Dear Reeve,–I send you herewith Francis’s translation of Pinto on Credit, together with the original French work of Pinto. The attack on Pombal is in Francis’s concluding observations. Some of the notes are very interesting, as illustrating the feeling of national superiority among the English, and of national depression among the French, between 1763 and the American War of Independence–see pp. 52, 66, 166. My impression is that the French felt more humiliated during that period than during an equal number of years after 1814. The loss of Canada and their expulsion from America wounded their national feelings of pride _then_ nearly as much as the loss of Alsace and part of Lorraine wounds those feelings now. A hundred years ago there were very exaggerated ideas, both in England and in France, as to the strength which a nation derived from colonies.

Yours very truly,


P.S.–In Francis’s Fragment of Autobiography he speaks of this translation as his own; and says that upon accepting his appointment to India he surrendered all his papers to Stephen Baggs, ‘in whose name the translation had been published.’ See ‘Memoir of Sir P.F.’ vol. i. p. 366.

The Journal notes:–

_June 28th_.–Assembly at Grosvenor House. July 2nd, assembly at Lansdowne House. July 3rd, Queen’s ball–a very brilliant season.

_From Lady Smith_

Lowestoft, July 9th.

Dear Mr. Reeve,–In one of your friendly letters to me, after the decease of our valued friend Emily Taylor, you kindly hinted that you would occasionally favour me with a note; but, knowing the demands upon your pen, I should not have reminded you of this kindness but for an incident which occurred last evening when my niece, Ina Reeve, came in to me, saying she had read such a severe and bitter review of your late publication as quite surprised her. As she brought the ‘Saturday Review’ with her, she read it to me, and perhaps, dear friend, you may have read it, and perhaps guess its author. To me it seems he is not so angry with your books as with yourself. Mr. Reeve floats uppermost in almost every line, and ’tis you he hates. I perceive he cannot endure you, and makes use of your books only to insult you. I hope you will take care how you come in his way, for I am sure he will do you a mischief. Beware of the evil eye! He talks of your ignorance of the New Testament. I could not help thinking how little he is acquainted with its spirit.

I also read with much concern of the treatment by Mr. Ayrton of that admirable Curator at the Kew Gardens–Dr. Hooker. Cruel it will be to science and the public if he is driven from the position he is so competent to fill with good results.

I have read at present only a part of your first volume, which I much enjoyed. Sir James was in Paris about two or three years before the Great Revolution began, but the fermentation was beginning. ‘Tis time to relieve you from my imperfect writing, for my sight is not very perfect, and by candlelight I can neither see to read or write. About two months go I completed my ninety-ninth year; but I have health and a new source of happiness in my nephew James and his dear daughter, who are come to reside at Lowestoft. _She_ is a daily friend to me, a second self; as our taste in literature, in poetry, and in morals agree. Only think, the Dean of Norwich sent me his defence of St. Athanasius’ Creed!

I am your dear friend,


The next entry in the Journal introduces us to the place–a site on the Southbourne estate already spoken of–where, two years afterwards, Reeve built the house in which so much of the last twenty years of his life was passed. It will be seen that for some time he hesitated between this and the neighbourhood of Ascot where, in the autumn, he inherited a small property.

_July 13th_.–To Christchurch, with Parker and Cockerell, [Footnote: Frederick Pepys Cockerell, one of a family of distinguished architects, and himself of a high reputation. He died at the age of 45, in 1878.] about the house at Foxholes.

_17th_.–Dined at Duke of Argyll’s. 20th, three days at Strawberry Hill. 27th, party at Aldermaston: Otway, Layards, H. Bruce.

Having taken Loch Gair House for the season, went there by Greenock on August 2nd. I paid about twelve guineas a week. [Loch Gair–wrote Mrs. Reeve–is a tiny, land-locked bay on the west shore of Loch Fyne. Park-like grounds, with a pretty burn rushing down, skirt this loch. There is a small kitchen garden, and a dairy of six cows. The best fishing is in Loch Clasken, about a mile and a half west. There is a boat on the loch. The house is a square structure, three stories high, and with underground larders, dairy, &c. and attics for servants, so that there is ample accommodation. I think Henry will enjoy the serene beauty of the place, the balmy air and fragrant odours, and idleness, delicious because earned by hard work.]

The Penders being at Minard, we had the benefit of their society and his yacht. Roland Richardson, Frank Hawkins, Mr. Dempster, the Worsleys, Edmund Wallace, Fairfax Taylor, Sir A. Grant, the Colebrookes, came to stay with us; and Colvile. The Derbys and Sir W. Thomson, [Footnote: Now Lord Kelvin.] Rawlinson, Massey, C. Villiers and the Lowes, staying at Minard.

[Of this time Mrs. Reeve wrote:–The sun is again ruling the day and the moon the night, to the very great glory of Loch Gair. On Sunday (August 18th) the whole Minard party, seventeen in number, came over to tea, much to the amusement of Mr. Dempster, to whom we talked of seclusion, and who did not expect a cabinet minister, a very ‘swell’ admiral, and sundry fine ladies. Mr. Dempster’s was but a short visit, to our regret; and on Monday I took him in the dog-cart to meet the ‘Iona’ at Ardrishaig.]

_October 2nd_.–Left Loch Gair. Visit to Orde’s at Kilmory; then to Invergarry (E. Ellice’s) by the Caledonian Canal. Deer shooting. 11th, to Keir; 16th, to Ormiston; then to Abington–shooting there. To town on October 26th.

Miss Handley died in October. She left me the Winkfield portion of the Bracknell estate, which was afterwards confirmed by a decree of the Master of the Rolls.