New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1889-03-28

/ BEEN pulled down 70 mako way for smart new
block lie had the whole Of the second door. and
the Room in which he sat and worked and re-
ceived visitors was large and comfortably fur
nished. with an outlook into Green Park 1t
was o sunny July morning; brighter than is often
TO be seen in London the sun streaming in
through the three large windows. Bright was
in his dressing-gown; q, garment TO which, like
Carlyle, he was much attached; not fashionable
short smokingjacket but an ample robe that fell
below his knees. He was not given to making
conventional speeches but he said rs the door
opened: All. you are very good TO call on Q
Minister cut OF Office" His tone and look were
both Of depression. / said hts resignation would
be regretted as much In America ne in England.
and that IL he cared 20 say anything in addition
TO what was known. his friends would be eager
to hear IL. mo-" he answered, have nothing
TO Soy" SO wo TALKED for two or three minutes
about the weather and the last dinner party, and
rose to 20. Sit down. he said, and forthwith
began on his resignation and the Egyptian bust
ness generally. Much Of what be said was for
the public, and was published at the time some
can never be published. He was extremely agi-
tated; the tears were sometimes in his eyes. Il
was crisis in his life. lie longed to be useful
lie liked Office. The Chaneellorship Of the Duchy
of Lancaster suited him perfectly. There was no
hated. there was salary Of t.2. 900 year, which
he did not object to draw. and there was a seat
in the Cabinet with ail the authority and dignity
which Cabinet rank confers. Mr. Gladstone and
lie were united by almost lifelong ties His at
tachment TO his chief was as strong as IL is
possible for such an attachment to be. lie said:
= You know something about the relations be
tween us. Yon know what / expected from his
Government You know what IL costs me TO
part from il and from him.
Then, why resign?"
He got mp from his chair. walked to the win
dow, and stood there looking out on the green
fields and blue sky. Then he turned. walked
back with flushed face and flaming eyes, and
burst out
:" Do you think am going to be party TO an
act like the bombardment of Alexandria? II it
were Just, II it were necessary. should hate to
be responsible for il in the least degree 1t is
not Just, it is not necessary. 1t is wanton 0nd
wicked outrage on nation which has a right to
be free. I have borne witness against war all
my life long I abhor it, None OF our wars
have been just There has not been Just war
since William the Third. except your war TO put
down the Rebellion My legacy TO my children
is message Of peace. Do you think, do you
think. at my age am going to
be false TO all my principles, TO 60 back on al
my record, to rctract all have said, to sanction
such an act as this, TO leave my children
heritage Of shame and disgrace, 10 leave behind
me for them the memory that their father was
traitor and renegade? Nevsrl"
His voice was hoarse with passion, with the
passion of o great nature stirred 20 its depths
The smooth tones had become rough and hard
lie spoke with all the energy Of sorrowful indg-
nation at great wrong which he was powerlchs
to prevent lie had tried to prevent it and failed,
and grief and righteous anger surged and boiled
within him. had never, anywhere, on the
platform or in the House, seen him in this mood,
nor heard such tones, nor seen such gestures
He went on:
81 have spoken to nobody as speak TO you.
OF course / have protested have argued en-
treated, demonstrated, all in vain. l believe i
threatened It was equally vain. ! appealed 10
Gladstone He listened, but 1 could not move
him. do not censure him; not word oftyhst
say about the war is meant for csnsure on
Gladstone There is no pufer soul than his.
He believes himself right Nothing would in
aaee him to IRE a shot IL he did not But 1
must. Judge for myself. / resigned three days
ago but it is only this morning the world Is
allowed to know IT, ] could not sleep for the
roar of those English guns at Alexandria. IL
is the end of my public life. never shall taste
Office again. NY work is done"
To hear him was distressing. Nothing could
be more pathetic than the situation in which he
found himself 1t was breaking his heart 70
break with Mr.. Gladstone To make up his mind
to that had been a sore struggle. But he had
taken the plunge, tho Rubicon was crossed, and
there was no going bach At the same time, it
was clear that the merits Of the Egyptian qnes-
ton played but little part in the tragedy.
What swayed him was not so much his con-
vjction of the wiekedness Of this particular
war; If war it could he called as his conviction
OF the wickedncss OF all war. His horror of
bloodshed was as deep rs any feeling Of his
nature. He hated war; hated IL for its cruelty,
and also, I think it must be said. because 10
interfered with the course of trade and the growth
Of nations prosperity. Lord Pslmerston said
of him that IL an enemy landed at Dover, Bright
would make o calculation whether it was cheaper
to let him in or drive him out The epigram has
been quoted often. / quote II again, 10 say l
think iS cruel SANDER. There was no more
ardent patriot than Bright. He loved his coun-
try and his countfymen, and believed the welfare
OF both dependent on peace He shrunk from
the rcproach he knew Alexandria would bring
on his country. II was one more precedent for
violence, and therefore 1t was that with all the
passionate energy Of his nature he strove, and
stfoye vainIy, for peace. e. W. D.