1827. CHAP. Birmingham, the Conservatives inclined to the circumXXI. jacent hundred. Both parties felt the vital importance of the question, but they mutually feared each other, and the session closed without any determination having been come to on the subject. But the point was mooted, and 1 Ann. Reg. could no longer be avoided; and this deserves to be noted as the commencement of the great question of PARLIAMENTARY REFORM.1 1827, 181. 84. 179, tion of Mr Canning. The session was closed by a speech from the throne, by Proud posi- the Lords Commissioners, on the 2d July; and an event soon after occurred which made a profound impression on England and the world, and afforded a memorable example of the unstable tenure by which worldly greatness is held. Mr Canning now saw every wish of his heart gratified. He had raised himself, by the unaided force of genius and eloquence, from a private station to the highest position in the State. He was the Prime Minister of the Crown, the admired leader of the House of Commons, the head of an administration stronger than any since the days of Pitt, and looked up to, in every part of the world, as the protector of the oppressed, the enlightened assertor of liberal principles. He was still in the prime of life; he had done much in conciliating the regard of his Sovereign; his sway in Parliament was unbounded; and he might hope for a long career of fame, fortune, and usefulness. 66 Vanity, vanity-all is vanity:" the hand of fate was already upon him, and he was to be suddenly snatched from the scene of his glory, at the very moment when he seemed to have attained the summit of earthly felicity! 85. Though by no means of a weakly constitution, Mr His suscep- Canning shared in an infirmity common to all men of sition and genius, and which, though it is sometimes concealed by increasing the vigour of a powerful understanding, is never probably tible dispo illness. entirely absent from a mind gifted with the highest imaginative faculties. He was not irritable, but eminently susceptible; he felt kindly, but he also felt warmly ; XXI. 1827. incapable of harbouring an ungenerous sentiment, he suf- CHAP. fered grievously under what seemed a want of generosity or justice in others. To a mind of this temperament, the very greatness to which he had been elevated became a source of anguish, the cause of disappointment. He had ascended the ladder, not at the head of his friends, but alone. At the summit of the battlement, he found himself surrounded by new faces, supported by former antagonists, while his old comrades, in sullen discontent, stood at a distance, lending no assistance. Cheered as he was from all sides of the House, leading a decided majority in his country, revered in every quarter of the globe, he yet felt that one thing was now awanting-the confidence of old friends, the sympathy of former associates. He had attained the pinnacle of ambition, but he found himself there in solitary grandeur. He felt like Burke: "I am alone; I know I have lost my former friends, and I am too old to form new ones." The cold look, the averted eyes, the unreturned pressure of the hand, told at what price he had purchased his present elevation; and this was felt the more keenly, that his own heart was still overflowing with the generous affections, and he experienced in success none of the irritation which his former friends perhaps not unnaturally evinced in disappoint- 1827, 191. ment.1 1 Ann. Reg. ness and These causes of irritation proved the more serious to 86. Mr Canning, that, although temperate in his general His last illhabits, and addicted to no excess, he participated in the death. pleasure, as much as he excelled in the powers of conversation; and when in company, he sought a momentary relaxation from the cares of office, the irritation at defection, in the brilliant and animated discourse which spread so great a charm over his private society. This insensibly led to a greater indulgence in the pleasures of company than was perhaps prudent in a person of his excitable temperament; and the result was an inflamed state of mind and body, which led to fatal results. On XXI. 1827. CHAP. the 15th July he became seriously indisposed, from having caught cold while sitting under a tree, when warm with walking, at Lord Lyndhurst's, at Wimbledon. On the 25th, he was, on the recommendation of his medical advisers, removed to Chiswick, the beautiful villa of the Duke of Devonshire, where he was lodged in the room in which Mr Fox had died. His complaint, which turned into inflammation of the bowels, after having more than once abated so as to give hopes of convalescence, returned ere long with redoubled violence. His sufferings were dreadful, and painful to witness, but he never lost his serenity of mind; and on the Sunday before his death he had prayers read to him by his daughter, his custom always when he could not attend church. Shortly after this, his sufferings ceased, but it was from the commencement of mortification in the seat of the disease. He gradually sunk, and breathed his last on the morning of Wednesday, August 8th. His funeral, at his own request, was a private one; but he was laid in Westminster Abbey, among the ashes of the great, and it was voluntarily attended by a large concourse of the nobility and estimable persons, as well as an immense crowd of spectators, anxious to testify their respect to the first and most gifted citizen of a free people.1 1 Life of Canning, 350, 369; Huskisson's Life, 137; Ann. Reg 190; Mar 1827, 189, tineau, i. 444, 445. 87. on this event. Mr Canning's death made a prodigious impression in Reflections the world, second only to that produced twenty-five years after by the decease of the Duke of Wellington. It was not merely the genius and talents of the departed statesman, great as they were, which led to this sensation,-it was the direction which they had latterly taken, the objects to which they had come to be applied, which caused the heart of the world to thrill with emotion. His," it has been finely said, "was a life in which all put trust, more, perhaps, than they should in that of mortal, from the isles of Greece to the ridges of the Andes."2 For the first time since the French Revolution, the Government of England, under his direction, had been 2 Miss Mar tineau. 66 turned to the support of democratic principles: he was СНАР. XXI. 1827. 88. lived, he disappoint And yet there can be no doubt that these anticipations were fallacious, and that these hopes would have Had he been disappointed had his earthly career been much would have prolonged. Mr Canning was too great a man to be a ed their exrepublican his was not the temper that would yield to pectations. the dictates of an imperious democracy. Questions were coming on, and could no longer be avoided, which would have dispelled the illusion, and deprived the great commoner of the halo of renown with which he descended to the tomb. He was averse to the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts, the steady and uncompromising opponent of parliamentary reform. His opposition to the Liberals on these questions would have speedily alienated the popular party, who can bear anything rather than a check from their own leaders; and a few years more of his life would probably have seen the windows of the emancipator of South America barricaded, like those of the deliverer of the Peninsula. He was essentially Conservative and national in his feelings, and that was the secret of his otherwise inconsistent career. He was a Conservative on principle, a Liberal from feeling and ambition. His sympathies were with freedom; but his judgment told him it was not to be won by yielding to the people. His most celebrated acts, the expedition to XXI. 1827. CHAP. Portugal and recognition of the republics of South America, were not, as the Liberals suppose, instigated by a desire to elevate popular power, but from a strong patriotic principle, and a desire to counterbalance the influence and divert the ambition of France. 89. Many of Mr Canning's last acts, which occasioned so Review of much excitement at the time, were plainly justifiable. his last acts. His interference in favour of Greece, and conclusion of the treaty of 6th July, which established its independence, was a noble act, called for by every consideration of justice and expedience, and calculated to avert one of the greatest evils of modern times, the government of the Turks in Europe. His expedition to Portugal was done on the call of an ancient ally, and necessary to maintain the character of England among nations, as well as stop the ambitious projects of France. But his interference in favour of the insurgents of South America, which chiefly gained him the applause of the Liberals, was an unjustifiable measure, calculated to partition the territory of an ancient ally, and spread the discordant passion for republicanism among a people unable to exercise its rights or bear its excitement. It has, accordingly, been attended with the most disastrous results. Mr Canning said he resolved, if France had Spain, it should not be Spain and the Indies, and that he called the New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old. What was this but to imitate the example of Maria Theresa, who said, when the Empress Catherine invaded Poland, "If you take Lithuania, it shall not be Lithuania with Gallicia; and I will appropriate the latter province to maintain the balance of European power." It is justifiable to assert the rights, and maintain, by fair means, the influence of your country; but it is a very different thing to do so by partitioning an ancient ally, and spreading a form of government, in a new hemisphere, unsuited to its character and ruinous to its happiness. Mr Canning's talents, both for business and debate, |