The Sun.
London, England, 1836-04-07 00:00:00

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

(rrom Rendont Recollections 7f the House of Lords.)
I now come to speak of the iriog, dlstitigulshed man of
the present day, either, in this or any other county j', 1 al-
lude to the Duke of Wellington. It will at once be under-
stood that in characterising his Grace as the most distin-
guished man of the present day, I speak of him in his capa-
city of a general, arid not in that of a statesman. In this
latter respect, however, I am disposed to assign him a
much higher rank than he is generally allowed to fill by
those who entertain
,political opinions opposite to his. If
on some great occasions he has failed in his calculation of
the probable effects of circumstances, and the probable
course of events, it is not to be disputed by his most
im-
placable foes, that be has been, in cases of unusual diffl-
eulty, successful in others. The mere fact of his carrying
on the government of the country during the eventful pe-
riod which intervened between the resignation of Lord Gode-
rich and the dissolution of his own administration is of it-
selfunanswerable proof—known as it is by every one that that
government was almost entirely under his own individual
guidance, that his mental resources must be very far from
those of a common-place character. It must not only be
recollected, that the period during which his administra-
tion existed was one unusually critical as regarded the pos-
ture both of home and foreign politics ; but that he had to
undertake the helm of government in the face of perhaps
the strongest prejudice that ever assailed any Ministry : a
prejudice caused putt; by the unpopularity of his avowed
high Tory principles, and partly by his memorable declara-
tion, made but a short time before his accession to the
premiership—that he would be mad even to dream of filling
that office.
And yet, not only did the Noble Duke conduct his go-
vernment safely through the storms and tempests of the
period referred to, but at the very moment he made his ill-
judged declaration against all reform, it seemed to be rest-
ing more securely than ever. That declaration was not only
the most foolish that be ever made—it was infinitely more
so than his previous well known statement, that he regarded
county meetings as farces—but it was decidedly the most
imprudent that ever proceeded from the lips- of a Minister
of the Crown. It could not fail to prove, in the then ex-
isting circumstances of the country, the destruction of his
government. It had hardly escaped his lips, when he him-
self saw that such would be its inevitable consequence.
But that the Duke of Wellington, notwithstanding de.
fects in his character which prevented his being a States-
man of the first class, is more than respectable in that ca-
pacity, must be abundantly clear to every mind not blinded
by prejudice. His conduct—first in the case of the claims
of the Dissenters, and afterwards in the case of the claims
of the Roman Catholics, was such as no mind but that of
a Statesman, could ever have suggested. Though mista-
king the signs of the times, and ignorant of the state and
force of public opinion in other instances, he clearly saw
those signs, and correctly estimated the force of that opi-
nion, as regarded the Test and Corporation Acts, and the
disabilities under which the Roman Catholics then la-
boured. I need not here remark that this conviction was
not wrought on his mind by the arguments or representa-
tions of his colleagues in the Cabinet ; for they were, to a
man, obstinately adverse to concession in either case ; it was
wholly the result of his own reflections on the matter, and
his clear perception of what the exigency of each individual
case demanded at his hands. Nor was the fact of his determi-
nation to attempt the repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts,
and to redress the grievances of the Roman Catholics, under
the peculiar and difficult circumstances in which he was placed
by his own previous opinions and conduct, and the existing
state of sentiment on these topics among his colleagues and
friends,—less a proof of his possessing some of the leading
attributes of a statesman, that was the fact of his perceiv-
ing the then state of public opinion as to the expediency of
such measures. That he succeeded in carrying them in the
face of obstacles which would not only have appalled ordi•
nary minds, but which seemed altogether insuperable, is a
still further evidence of his possession of those attributes.
There was hardly, I believe, a man in the country but him-
self, when he first declared his intention of bringing for-
ward those measures, who with the House of Lords and
the prejudices of George the Fourth in his eye, ever dreamed
that the Noble Duke would succeed in the objects he had
in view.

The Duke of Wellington has generally evinced an inti-
mate knowledge of the resources of his own party, and of
the amount of force which would be necessary to carry
their point, and defeat their opponents. Hence, as must
often have been observed, he has not only on many occa-
sions pursued a more moderate course than those of the
more bigotted and less calculating of his Tory friend, but
in various cases he has refused to co-operate with them at
all. In several instances this refusal to co-operate with his
own party against particular measures of a liberal Govern-
ment, has arisen as much from a conviction of the im-
prudence of ,defeating Ministers—had those on his side of
the House possessed the power—as from a consciousness of
the futility of the attempt. In fact, his whole conduct
shows that he is a man of great shrewdness and prudence.

Perhaps no man of the present day possesses greater mo-
ral courage than the Duke of Wellington. It is that pe-
culiar description of moral courage, too, which teaches him
to disregard alike the opinions both of friends and foes.
Let him be but convinced that a certain measnre has be-
come indispensable to the peace or welfare of the country,
and to the carrying of that measure he will lend all his
energies in utter disregard alike of the frowns and smiles of
others. Ido not believe that he is either to be smiled into
or frowned out of a particular measure, however seductive
the smile in the one case, or ominous the frown in the other.
He appears as indifferent to popularity as any public man I
know of the present day.
Indeed,
treme as to degenerate into a blemish in his character. It
my impression is, that his moral courage is so ex-
was his utter indifference to popularity that prompted his
ill-judged and, to his own Government, fatal declaration of
November, 1829, against all reform. And the same dis-
regard of public opinion contributeq, there can be no doubt,
to his resolution to centre the Government of the country
in his own person during the space which intervened be-
tween the ejection of the Melbourne Ministry in November
1834, and the return of Sir Robert Peel from Italy. That
was an experiment which no one, not even his own greatest
friends, ever undertook to justify. It was an experiment,
indeed, which admitted of no justification ; but was consi-
dered by his own party, as well as by those of opposite po-
litics, to be as unconstitutional as it was bold and daring.
His general information is neither varied nor profound ;
but he very seldom commits blunders in his. speeches. He
always pays particular attention to any question of import-
ance before the House, before he ventures to open his
mouth on it. And there are few men who can so speedily
master the leading details of any question. His mind is
acute, and his understanding vigorous, so that, in as far as
the mere matter of his speeches is concerned, he generally
appears to some advantage. He often strikes out new
courses of thought, but seldom pursues them far. It is
nothing uncommon to hear him urge a series of ingenious
arguments in favour of his view of the subject, without
what is called dwelling on them. He is always clear : you
can never mistake the position he labours to establish, nor
can you ever fail to perceive the immediate bearing of his
observations on that position.
Were his diction and manner good, the noble Duke
would rank high as a speaker, but both are bad. His style
is rough and disjointed—sometimes positively incorrect ; it
is always, however, nervous and expressive. His manner of
speaking is much worse than his diction. He has a bad
screeching sort of voice, aggravated by an awkward mode
of mouthing the words. His enunciation is so bad, owing
in some measure to the loss of several of his teeth, that
often, when at the full stretch of his voice, you do not
know what particular words he is using. At other times,
and this too while his gesture is vehement, he speaks in so
low and peculiar a sort of tone, that you lose, perhaps, whole
sentences together.
The Duke feels strongly on political questions, and there
is always great energy in his manner when expressing his
sentiments. He generally makes a liberal use of his arms,
especially his right one, when on his legs, and moves his
body about for the purpose of enabling him to look his own
friends, in different parts of the House, in the face. In his
amentary more vehement moods, he frequently falls into what, in par-
language, is called the habit of expectoration.
-Es whole soul is thrown into his subject. You see at once

that he has no ambition to play the orator. He never uses
a word more than is necessary, nor does be attempt rheto-
rical flourishes. His speeches are full of feeling and senti-
ment. You are only surprised when you see the intensity of
the former, if in opposition to any measure before their
Lordships,—that he does not divide the House on the subject.

SINGULAR CASE OF RESEMBLANCE.—A young
woman was recently charged before the Brussels Correctional
Police with stealing wood. The pilsoner denied the charge,
and said it must have been her sister. Her sister was brought
into Court, and the resemblance between them was so striking,
that the Tribunal, fearful of condemning the innocent, ac-
quitted both.
DOVER, APRIL 2.—This morning, at eight o'clock,
a ytlernan, drove up to the London Inn in this town in a postchaise
man, having something of the appearance of a gen-
. accompanied by a young woman apparently very
n
confinement. He would not cross the water to
acneadaol
rau nsio gue
in
r r
either of the steam-boats, but hired an open boat—
, that of the well-known Jump'er, who crosses with the mail
when the weather is too rough for the steamers—for which he
agreed to pay the sum of 10/. But the singularity of his con-
duct did not end here. After displaying a bundle of bank-
notes in the coffee-room, supposed to contain 1,0001., he en-
gaged a medical man, assistant to Mr. Coleman, of Dover, to
whom he gave 90/., to accompany himself and his lady, in
case the latter should be taken in labour on the passage. Paris
was the object in view, where, no doubt, the 1,000/. will be
well received ; and in all probability the gentleman will be
safely delivered of his burden, whatever may be the fate of his
ecmpanion,