Christmas and the early days of the New Year were passed at Foxholes. On January 15th the Reeves returned to Rutland Gate. Parliament met on the 21st, and, as had been foreseen, the Government was defeated on an amendment to the Address. Lord Salisbury's resignation was announced on February 1st, and, on the 3rd, Mr. Gladstone's Cabinet was formed, Sir William Harcourt being Chancellor of the Exchequer, Lord Rosebery Foreign Secretary, and Mr. John Morley Secretary for Ireland. Sir Henry James, now Lord James of Hereford, declined the office of Lord Chancellor; Lord Hartington, the present Duke of Devonshire, declined office of any sort in a Ministry whose policy, as yet but dimly shown, was generally understood to be on the lines of advanced Radicalism. For his part, Reeve abhorred Radicalism. He had never approved of Gladstone as a politician, and now less than ever. He looked on him as a danger to the Empire, to be fought against, to be resisted, to be crushed. Nor was he singular in this. It is customary to speak of the extraordinary influence which Gladstone exercised. It was this influence, directed by sentiment or by vanity, which constituted the danger. There were many who believed the country to be on the eve of a violent, perhaps a sanguinary, revolution, fomented and abetted by Mr. Gladstone; and this belief was strengthened when, on February 8th, an East-end mob, meeting in Trafalgar Square, was allowed, without opposition, to march by Pall Mall, St. James' Street and Piccadilly, to Hyde Park, breaking the windows and plundering the shops on the way. When to this supposed revolutionary tendency of the new Ministry was added their avowed intention to bring in a measure for the pacification of Ireland, which—in the absence of details—was believed to mean the disintegration of the kingdom, the feeling of alarm, which must be very well remembered by many who read these pages, can be easily understood.

From Lord Ebury [Footnote: Lord Ebury died at the age of 92, in 1893.]

Moor Park, January 4th, 1886.

Dear Reeve,—Allow me to wish you and Mrs. Reeve a happy New Year, and to say how much I have been interested in the second part of our common friend's Memoirs, which—if you care to know it—pleased me more than the first; but the most characteristic passage of the writer, and which made me laugh aloud, is the three pages in which he vents all his wrath against the public for their approbation of Lady Blessington as an authoress, and the pedestal upon which they placed her. I was glad to read the editor's note, which completed the page. When once he got into that sort of mood, and perhaps was influenced by a touch of gout, and let himself go, it was very funny to listen to him; and really he was a good-natured man. I wonder what he would have said of Parnell and his ragged regiment, and the G. O. M.[Footnote: As even in twelve years the name has become quite obsolete, it may be as well to note that Mr. Gladstone was generally designated by these letters, said by his friends and admirers to stand for Grand Old Man.] as he now appears. What in the world are we to do? The 'Times' is working most patriotically; but why, in the world, did it or he not find out earlier what the G. O. M. really was and is?…

With my best regards to Mrs. Reeve,

I remain, yours very truly,

EBURY.

From the Comte de Paris

8 janvier.—Je vous remercie bien sincÈrement des bons voeux que vous m'adressez pour la nouvelle aimÉe. Comme vous le dites fort bien, il y a des bonheurs que la politique ne peut pas empoisonner, et ce sont les plus solides.

L'annÉe 1886, je le crois comme vous, nous rÉserve des surprises plus dramatiques que celle don't nous venons de voir la fin. En France, ce renouvellement de l'annÉe nous donne un PrÉsident renommÉ mais non rajeuni, un MinistÈre reconstituÉ mais non raffermi … En Angleterre, Gladstone et les Irlandais vous auront pour une fois rendu service s'ils forcent À s'unir les conservateurs, aujourd'hui sÉparÉs par d'anciennes divisions en whigs et en tories. Ce jour-la vous pourrez de nonveau avoir un gouvcrnement fort et national.

From Lord Ebury

February 13th—I cannot recollect anything about Charles Greville's pamphlet on Ireland, though I imagine I must have read it at the time. Can one get it now to look at it? or are things so much changed by the march of events since that its interest has passed away? I re-read Gustave de Beaumont's marvellous work, with which no doubt you are acquainted. I confess it rather staggered me when it first came out; and how the prophecies it contained are accomplished, almost to the letter! I remember calling the old Duke's attention to it; especially to that strange phrase-speaking of the then Irish landowners—'C'est une mauvaise aristocratic; il faut la dÉtruire.' Was it ever reviewed in the 'Edinburgh'?

When will this horrible Government be overthrown?

To Mr. T. Norton Longman

Rutland Gate, March 29th—From what I learned yesterday as to the probable course of proceeding in the House of Commons, I am strongly of opinion that it will be necessary to accelerate the publication of the 'Review' by two days, instead of postponing it, as we had proposed to do. The 'Review' would be of use in the debate which will then be going on, and will probably be noticed; whereas, after the division on leave to bring in the Bill, it would be less opportune. The article on Ireland is complete, and it would be premature to speculate on the details of an unknown measure.

The 'Review' was published on April 13th, and, as Reeve had expected, the article on 'England's Duty to Ireland' was in everyone's mouth. It was a powerful appeal to the Liberals, as distinct from the Gladstonians, which may even now be read with advantage as a lucid exposition of the principles of the Union.

From Lord Ebury

April 14th.—Thank you for so speedily answering my question: also for pointing my attention to the concluding article of the 'Edinburgh'—just published—written by yourself. I have just finished its perusal, and am very much pleased with it. No doubt you have had a certain advantage in seeing what has been already said upon this insane proposition of Gladstone's; but I have hitherto seen nothing which so completely exposes the dangers that threaten us, and gives so much historical information to guide opinion upon the subject; and you have put forward a subject which to my astonishment has not (or scarcely) been noticed at all. I mean the danger to the throne of England. I see you dismiss with scarcely a remark—which, indeed, in your province, would have been injudicious—the responsibility of those, our grandees—I won't mention names—who have assisted in giving the G. O. M. power to do the almost irreparable mischief he has perpetrated.

The Journal here has:—

April 17th.—To Foxholes. On the 29th, Unionist meeting at Christchurch; Lord Malmesbury in the chair. I read an address [which was printed and circulated as a leaflet]. This was one of the first Unionist meetings in England.

May 3rd.—To Portsmouth, on a visit to Captain Bridge, on board the 'Colossus.'

On May 10th Gladstone, in moving the second reading of his 'Home Rule' Bill, seemed to accept the truth of the maxim that 'Speech is given to man to conceal his thoughts,' and led someone—commonly believed to be Mr. Labouchere, who made no attempt to hide his own opinions—to say, 'How is it possible to play with an old sinner who has got an ace up each sleeve, and says God Almighty put them there?' What Gladstone wanted to do was, in fact, never exactly known; all that could be made out was that he was prepared to grant whatever the Irish Nationalist party demanded. It was for Mr. Parnell to speak; for him to obey. Such an attitude was revolting to a very great many of the Liberal party. They maintained—they rightly maintained—that the name 'Liberal' belonged to principles, not to men; and that those who sacrificed their principles to follow the lead of one man, even of Gladstone's eminence, ceased to be Liberals, and could only be called Gladstonians. The Bill was discussed for many days, and on June 7th it was negatived by the House of Commons in the fullest division ever known; the numbers being:

Against the Bill. For the Bill.

Conservatives. . . . 250 Gladstonians. . . . 230
Liberals. . . . . . 93 Nationalists. . . . 83
___ ___
343 313

Majority against the Bill, 30.

Reeve was triumphant, and wrote to Mr. T. Norton Longman the next day, 'What a triumphant division! What a defeat for the G. O. M.! Even he must believe this. I think his colleagues will hardly agree to dissolve. If they do, they will be annihilated.'

They did, and they were. The General Election held in July fully ratified the vote of the House on June 7th, and left the Gladstonians and Parnellites combined in a minority of 115.

To Mr. T. Norton Longman

C. O., June 23rd.—Sir Francis Doyle's Epilogue [Footnote: The last chapter of Doyle's Reminiscences and Opinions (8vo. 1886). It is more than 'invective;' it contains much sound argument and admirable illustration.] is a powerful piece of invective; but it is essentially addressed to Gladstone's public career and conduct, and if he likes to publish it, I see no objection. Doyle was at Eton with Gladstone, and is one of his oldest and most intimate friends—or rather, was so. What he has written is not stronger than what George Anthony Denison has published on Gladstone, he too being a friend of forty years. I do not remember another instance in which a man's best and earliest friends have turned upon him, to unmask him, and that without any motive of personal resentment. It is the noble motive which led Brutus to strike Caesar.

If this is to appear, it should be published immediately, as it relates to the affairs of the day.

C. O., July 21st.—I think Gladstone has fulfilled all my predictions and completed the ruin of the Liberal party and his own. The net result is that he has brought in the Tories for several years.

Whilst this tremendous storm was raging in the political world in England, France also had been much excited. The letters of the Comte de Paris have shown that he was, in point of fact, conducting an intrigue for the subversion of the republic, the re-establishment of the monarchy; and it is not surprising that the Government, more or less cognisant of what was going on, struck in defence of the constitution under which they ruled. Their action was said to be illegal; but in time of war the laws depend on, are upheld by, and interpreted by the greater force; and on June 23rd the Comte de Paris, with his family, was ordered to quit France, and the Orleanist princes, including the Duc d'Aumale, were deprived of their rank in the army, their names being erased from the army list. On June 29th Reeve noted in his Journal, 'To Tunbridge Wells, to see the Comte de Paris, exiled the week before;' but that is all; the home interest was too absorbing, though even of that the only trace in the Journal is on July 5th, 'Unionist meeting at Tuckton. I took the chair. Election.'

To Lord Derby

C. O., July 10th.—I am much obliged to you for the copy of your excellent speech. In this remarkable debate coram populo, it seems to me that the defeat of the Home Rulers in argument has been even more complete than their rout at the polling booths. The people have shown more serious intelligence than I had given them credit for. I saw this even in our Hampshire bumpkins.

On July 20th the Gladstonian Ministry resigned, and before the end of the month the new ministry was formed under Lord Salisbury as premier and first lord of the treasury. The Journal is occupied with personal and family affairs of special interest.

July 25th.—To Antwerp by the 'Baron Osy.' Forty-seven Americans on board. Aix very dull. Back to London on August 11th.

August 18th.—Letter from Hopie announcing her intended marriage.

September 6th.—Hopie married at Kirklands to Thomas Ogilvie of Chesters.

Chesters is in the immediate neighbourhood of Kirklands, and the friendship between Miss Reeve and Mr. Ogilvie was of many years' standing, though the determination to marry was rather sudden, and the engagement very short. Mr. Ogilvie was a man of good family and property, and though several years older than his bride, Reeve appears to have been very well satisfied; his relations with his son-in-law were always cordial, though the distance at which they lived restricted the intercourse, and the formed habits of both prevented anything like intimacy.

Amidst the political excitement and the family interest of the summer, the following comes in almost like the Fool in 'King Lear' or Caleb Balderstone in the 'Bride of Lammermoor.' It refers to a proposition—surely one of the strangest ever submitted to a publisher—which, in ordinary course, had been sent to Reeve for an opinion. And this is what Reeve wrote:—

To Mr. T. Norton Longman

Foxholes, August 24th.—Your correspondent is the coolest fellow I ever heard of. He not only proposes to complete Macaulay's 'Lays' by some new ones, but to re-edit and correct the original Lays, which, he says, 'are very irregular.' His own verses have not a spark of poetry or fire in them; they are mere trash, and he is an impertinent fellow.

Here the Journal has:—

September 7th.—Went to Exeter with Christine; 8th, to Chagford and Dartmoor; 10th, back to Foxholes.

29th.—To Holyhead and Penrhos with Christine. Bad weather at Penrhos; gout in hand came on.

October 2nd.—To Knowsley; Lord Lyons there.

6th.—To London and Foxholes. Christine went on to Chesters. On the 20th, Mrs. Ogilvie came from Scotland. November 2nd, James Watney died.

From Count Vitzthum

Paris, November 7th.

Dear Mr. Reeve,—I beg you to accept kindly a copy of my memoirs 'St. Petersburg and London,' 1852-1864, which Cotta will send you from the author. Please to remember, if you find time to read these two little volumes, that it is a German book, written for Germans, by one who is neither Whig, nor Tory, nor Red; who is very fond of Old England,, but has nothing to do with your party feelings and prejudices. I see men and things, not from the English, but from the European standpoint, and leave it, as far as possible, to the leading men of the day to tell their own tale. If you find time, read the book and tell me what you think of it.

Yours very truly,

VITZTHUM.

To Mr. T. Norton Longman

C.O., November 12th.—My old friend, Count Vitzthum, formerly Saxon Minister in London, has sent me his 'Reminiscences of St. Petersburg and London from 1852 to 1864' in German, 2 vols. This is a book of extraordinary interest to the English public, full of conversations and confidential details of Prince Albert, Lord Palmerston, Lord Clarendon, Disraeli, &c.—quite a contemporary political history, as amusing and interesting as Greville himself. Vitzthum knew this country well, and all its society.

I shall write on Monday [15th] to thank him for the book, and I propose to ask him whether he has made any arrangements for the translation of it. I am not much in favour of translations; but this book is of such peculiar and exciting interest that I should strongly recommend you to secure it if possible. I think the Taylors, who did Luther, would undertake the translation.

I think this an important affair.

November 15th.—I am afraid you are out of town, but it is of great importance to come to an immediate decision about Count Vitzthum's book. It is a work of the greatest possible interest and importance, and contains many entirely new facts and anecdotes as to contemporary history. You will perceive this from the enclosed notice of the book which appeared last week in the 'Daily News.' [Footnote: November 6th, 'From our Berlin Correspondent,' a notice mostly made up of extracts from the book, then described as 'just about' to be published by Cotta of Stuttgart.]

The Queen has seen the sheets and approved them.

The result of this notice was that three English publishers at once applied to Cotta for the right of translation; but the Count has retained that in his own hands, and he says that, if you will publish the translation on suitable terms, and if I will edit the translation with my name, and write a preface to it, he will make an arrangement with us. This I am ready to do, and I shall tell him so to-day. There is not a moment to lose; and as you appear not to be in town, I must act myself in the matter. I want to know as soon as possible what terms you would offer. I think the Count would accept either a sum down or a share of the profits; you might propose either alternative. The Taylors would execute the translation promptly and the book would appear in May. I do not suppose that you will hesitate to agree to so important a proposal; but if it does not please you, I am certain that Murray or Macmillan would jump at it.

C.O., November 17th.—Max MÜller has written to Count Vitzthum, to make exactly the same suggestion I have done. He highly applauds the book and recommends the Count to make arrangements with you for the translation. I have seen Fairfax Taylor. He will undertake to complete the translation by the 15th or 20th of February. The printing can go on when he has got some copy in hand, and the book can be brought out early in April, which is a very good time. I have given him my copy of the first volume to begin upon. Pray get another copy of the book.

November 18th.—Count Vitzthum accepts your proposal. He asks me whether he should write to you; but that is unnecessary. Four other English publishers have applied to him for the right of translation.

November 23rd.—It will be necessary that the translation of Vitzthum's book should be set up in slips, in order that he and I may have an opportunity of adding notes or making omissions.

At this time the question of having him elected as a foreign member of the Institute was mooted by Reeve's friends in Paris. It is to this that the following letters refer. Though not successful on this occasion, because—as Reeve was afterwards told—two out of the six foreign members were already English, they carried their point some eighteen months later, on an English vacancy.

From M. Jules Simon

Paris, 18 dÉcembre.

Cher Monsieur,—J'ai en effet exprimÉ À notre ami commun, M. Gavard, le dÉsir que j'Éprouve de vous attacher plus complÈtement À notre AcadÉmie. C'est line opÉration assez difficile, car les associÉs Étrangers pouvant Être choisis indistinctement dans tous les peuples du monde, il y a rarement disette de candidats. A chaque vacance, une commission est nominÉe au scrutin. Elle prÉsente trois noms À l'AcadÉmie, qui consacre une sÉance À les discuter, et vote dans la sÉance suivante. Nous devons Élire tout À l'heure le successeur de Ranke. Parmi les deux noms qui ne sortiront pas de l'urne, il y en a un qui pourra bien rÉussir quand on Élira le successeur de Minghetti. En gÉnÉral on est portÉ deux ou trois fois avant de passer. Vos amis s'occuperont d'abord de vous faire figurer sur la liste. Il faut pour cela qu'un d'entre eux ait la liste exacte de vos Écrits, et de tous les titres que l'on peut invoquer en votre faveur. Les dÉbats ne sont pas publics; les candidats n'Écrivent pas de demande; celui qui les propose parle en son propre noni, ct est mÊme censÉ les proposer À leur insu. Enfin, le public ne connaÎt que le nom de l'Élu. Je crois que vous avez envoyÉ a M. BarthÉlemy St.-Hilaire les renseignements nÉcessaires. Si cela n'est pas fait, faites-le, je vous prie, sans dÉlai. Vous pouvez, si vous le prÉfÉrez, les envoyer À M. Gavard, qui me les remettra, ou m'Écrire directement. Je vous prie, cher monsieur, de croire À mes sentiments cordialement dÉvouÉs.

JULES SIMON.

From M. Leon Say

Paris, 25 dÉcembre.

Mon bien Cher M. Reeve,—Je ferai naturellement tous mes efforts pour vous rapprocher encore plus de l'Institut, et vous y donner un rang digne de vous; mais je ne dois pas vous laisser ignorer qu'il y aura lutte. Je ne sais s'il vous conviendra que votre nom soit discutÉ. Pour vous Éclairer sur ce point, je vous envoie À titre confidentiel un billet que me fait parvenir M. Aucoc pour faire suite À un entretien que j'ai eu avec lui.

Je vous prie de croire À mes sentiments les plus distinguÉs et les plus affectueux.

LÉON SAY.

Jules Simon m'a promis une note qui me servirait À soutenir vos titres, et me permettrait de dire aux FranÇais de ma section, passablement ignorants de l'Étranger, avec exactitude ce que vous avez fait.

Meantime the Journal notes:—

December 7th.—Meeting of the Liberal-Unionist party. On the 11th, dinner at home. Duc d'Aumale, Froude, Carnarvon, Lady Stanley, Colonel Knollys, F. Villiers, Lady Metcalfe, Newton.

19th—Dined at the Duc d'Aumale's, who had bought Moncorvo House in Ennismore Gardens. Comte and Comtesse de Paris, Haussonville, SÉgur, Target, Audiffret, Leighton.

December 21st.—To Timsbury. 24th, to Foxholes. The Ogilvies there.

1887. January 3rd.—Came to London. 10th, dinner at Pender's to meet Stanley, the African traveller, before he went to find Emin Bey.

19th.—The third part of Greville published, 3,007 copies subscribed.

Among the many letters which the publication of these last volumes of the 'Greville Memoirs' brought him, the following from Sir Arthur Gordon [Footnote: Fourth son of the Earl of Aberdeen.]—now Lord Stanmore, and then Governor of Ceylon—have a peculiar interest from their exact criticism of a point of detail with which the writer was personally acquainted at first hand:—

Queen's House, Colombo, June 18th.

My dear Mr. Reeve,—I have very long delayed answering your last letter, in the hope that, when I did so, I might at the same time be able to send you my notes on the two last volumes of 'Greville.' But these notes will be numerous, and my time is scant for such work. On one point, the 'graspingness' alleged to have been shown by the Peclites after the formation of the Government in December 1852, and its modification to satisfy their exigencies, I have felt constrained to address the 'Times.' [Footnote: June 13th. The letter is reprinted in the Appenduxm post, p. 411.] The truth happens to have been exactly the other way, and Greville's notes are only the echo of the grumblings of the disappointed Whig placemen who talked to him. It is decidedly unjust not only to my father, Graham, and Gladstone, who are indirectly charged with this trafficking, but to the Duke of Newcastle and Herbert also, who more directly are so.

I have, of course, read the volumes with great interest, but have had my suspicions greatly heightened that whatever may have been the case before—say 1841, the confidences Mr. Greville received in the later years of his life were not unfrequently only half-confidences, for the sake of obtaining his opinion on some collateral point, or of flattering or pleasing him by the show of confidence. There are, of course, many matters treated of in these volumes as to which I have no personal or private information, and I have no reason to question what he says about them; but I have some inclination to doubt, even as to these; for I find that as regards almost every transaction of which I do happen to know the whole history, he knows a good deal about it, but not all about it. He was kept specially in the dark about the real history of Lord Palmerston's resignation in 1853 which is all the odder because he very nearly found it out. Hardly anybody does know what lay behind, though the difference about Reform was a very real one, so far as it went, and quite sufficient to justify—at all events, ostensibly—Lord P.'s virtual dismissal. Again, on another occasion, I see Mr. G.'s special friend, Lord Clarendon—I will not say, deliberately deceived him, but, certainly with full knowledge —allowed him to deceive himself on the strength of a half-confidence. [Footnote: A politic reticence, that has been called 'an economy of truth.']

I am more disappointed than I can say to find that M. de Sainte-Aulaire's elaborate Memoirs have been 'used up' for that stupid book of Victor de Nouvion's, [Footnote: Histoire du RÈgne de Louis Philippe (4 tom 8vo. 1857-61)], if—as I suppose-that is the book you refer to. I thought it had never got beyond the first two volumes, and have never seen any more of it. I am vexed that M. de Sainte-Aulaire's elaborate Memoirs should have been utilised for such a book; generally, because I know M. de Sainte-Aulaire contemplated their publication, and because they deserved to appear in a separate form; and, personally and specially, because, of course, his accounts of his intercourse with my father, and the elaborate study of his character which he had written, are thus lost….

Yours ever faithfully,

A. GORDON.

To Sir Arthur Gordon

C.O., June 13th.—I have just read in the 'Times' of this morning your interesting letter on the formation of Lord Aberdeen's ministry. I have no doubt you are quite right. It was John Russell and the Whigs who were rapacious for office—much more than the Peelites. John Russell, I know, kept Cardwell out of the Cabinet. You observe that Greville only notes what Lord Clarendon told him; and I have no doubt that Clarendon was rather out of humour with arrangements which were personally disagreeable to himself. But that again was John Russell's fault, because he insisted on taking the Foreign Office pro tem. I shall probably publish another complete edition of Greville next year, and I think it would be well to insert in a note the whole of your letter, or at least the greater part of it. [Footnote: See Appendix, post, p. 411.] If you have any other criticisms to make, they would be valuable to me. I have availed myself of those you were so good as to send me on the second series.

You are aware that Mme. de Jarnac is dead. I do not know who has her husband's papers; but the Comte de Paris is here, and as I frequently see him, I will take an early opportunity of asking him whether he can give me any information about Lord Aberdeen's letters. M. Thureau's 'Histoire de la Monarchic de Juillet' is a remarkable book, because he has access to original sources and quotes largely from them, especially from the Memoirs of M. de Sainte-Aulaire which are still in MS. [Footnote: And still so in 1898.] They appear to be extremely interesting.

We are getting on here pretty well. If the Whigs had joined the Government, there might have been a scramble for office, as there was in 1853; for the Whigs are now in the same position as the Peelites were at that time—officers without an army. It is much more to the credit of my friends to give a disinterested support to Lord Salisbury; and this alliance gives a sufficiently Liberal colour to the measures of the administration. There is every appearance that the Unionists will hold together. Mr. Gladstone continues to be in a state of hallucination and excitement which exceeds belief. It is a case of moral and political suicide. The crisis will probably end by the death of Mr. Parnell, the falling [off] of the American subscriptions, and the extinction of Mr. Gladstone; but in the meantime they have totally ruined Ireland.

From Sir Arthur Gordon

August 30th.—Your letter of June 13th must have crossed one from me, in which I explained to you why I had written to the 'Times' about the formation of the Government of 1853 instead of merely sending my observations to you as a note for future use. I need not say that I am much flattered by your proposal to insert the letter—or part of it—in a note to a future edition of Mr. Greville's Memoirs… I am struck very much by what I think I mentioned once before—the frequency with which Mr. Greville's friends gave him what may be called 'a three-quarters knowledge' of pending affairs. They told him a great deal, but frequently not all. In the affairs with which I am really acquainted, there is almost always something—and that an important something—which does not appear in his notes… I have specially noticed this with regard to Lord Palmerston's 'resignation' in 1853, It is the more remarkable, because it is apparent from various passages that he 'burnt'—as they say in a game of hide and seek—but never actually quite caught the true facts. I have never known a secret better guarded than the fact—which, after a lapse of four and thirty years, one may, I think, mention—that Lord P.'s resignation on that occasion was not voluntary, and that he was, in fact, extruded. [Footnote: In a later letter, June 5th, 1888, Sir Arthur Gordon wrote:—'He had given great offence to the Queen; and his colleagues—at least, his most important colleagues—distrusted his action in reference to pending negotiations, Lord Clarendon especially resenting the intrigues he believed he was carrying on. Things being in this state, he announced his hostility to Reform, and it was determined to take advantage of this announcement to remove him; and removed he would have been, but for the two causes I have noted.'] But, to be sure, half the Cabinet did not know this; and it was their ignorance, coupled with Newcastle's and Gladstone's dislike of Lord John, that brought him back again.

I must get M. Thureau's 'Histoire de la Monarchic de Juillet,' of which I never even heard. It is dreadful to reflect how utterly behindhand one gets in all things, literary, artistic, and political, through long sojourns out of Europe. But I do hope there is some prospect of M. de Sainte-Aulaire's Memoirs themselves being published at full length. I know it was M. de Sainte-Aulaire's wish and deliberate intention that they should be given to the world, and he took much trouble with them.

From the Duke of Argyll

Inveraray, January 22nd.

My dear Mr. Reeve,—I have been longer in getting the book off my hands than I had hoped. It is now in the press, and Douglas talks of getting it out about February 10th or a little later…. There is a good deal in the book which, in one sense, may be called 'padding,' because I have endeavoured to relieve the very dry subject of Tenures and Agricultural Improvement with historical episodes, with pictures of manners, and even with personal anecdote. But I think there is a considerable bulk of new matter, or at least of old matter put in new points of view, and every part is written with an aim to establish the principles which we think 'sound' on Law, on Property, and on Union. Your new Greville seems to be very interesting.

Yours very sincerely,

ARGYLL.

From M. B. St.-Hilaire

Paris, 29 janvier.—Je vous remercie de la peine que vous voulez bien prendre, et j'ai profitÉ des corrections que vous avez bien voulu m'indiquer. J'avais dÉjÁ profitÉ des deux articles de la 'Revue d'Edimbourg' sur les chemins de fer russes en Asie et sur l'armÉe indienne.

I have no wish to appear more royalist than the king himself; but I cannot feel so sure as you do about the security of India. The Russians are already threatening it, and I do not think they are near stopping. The base of their operations will be in the Caucasus, where they already have very considerable forces. It is true that their finances are in bad order; but this may perhaps be an additional motive to them to undertake a war of conquest. I agree with you, however, that before the attack on India will come the attack on Constantinople, the consequences of which will be very great. On the other hand, the railway connecting Candahar with the Indus will certainly be a great obstacle to the advance of the Russians on Cabul. In all this I see many of the elements of catastrophes which the next generation will witness. I hope I may be out of this world before they come.

To Mr. T. Norton Longman

Foxholes, April 17th.—I see the 'Athenaeum' complains that I did not correct all Vitzthum's mistakes and rearrange his book; but that is more than I undertook to do. We did correct a good many mistakes, natural enough in a foreigner; but I do not hold myself responsible for his facts or his opinions.

April 22nd.—I know more about M. BarthÉlemy St.-Hilaire's book on India than any other Englishman, for I revised and corrected the proof-sheets for him. A French writer on the subject was sure to make blunders. The book is most valuable to foreigners, for it is a perfectly fair account of the British administration of India; but it would be entirely useless in this country, inasmuch as it is a mere compilation from well-known English documents. I think, therefore, that a translation into English would be a work of supererogation and a failure.

Journal

April 30th.—Dined at the Royal Academy dinner.

May 9th.—Great Unionist meeting at Winchester.

28th.—BarthÉlemy St.-Hilaire came to Foxholes on a visit.

June 10th.—Dined with the Duc d'Aumale, Moncorvo House. Electric light.

15th.—Dined at the Middle Temple. Grand day; Prince of Wales in the chair.

18th.—Dined with the Lord Mayor. Literature, Science, and Art.

21st.—Celebration of the Jubilee. Splendid day.

July 3rd.—Went to Eastbourne.

7th.—Dined at East Sheen with the Comte de Paris. Duc and Duchesse of Braganza there. Duke of St. Albans, Arran and daughter, Duc de la Tremoille—twenty.

18th.—Duc d'Aumale's evening party; very brilliant.

25th.—To Ostend and Brussels. 26th, to Cologne. Great heat.

27th.—To Wiesbaden. Lady Dartrey died while I was at Wiesbaden. I took leave of her on her death-bed just before I started. It was the loss of a most kind, faithful, and affectionate friend.

August 5th.—Ill in the night; incipient fever. 6th, to Cologne. 7th, to Aix, very unwell. 9th, got back to London by Ostend-Dover.

From Captain Bridge, R.N.

H.M.S. 'Colossus,' Gibraltar, August 3rd.

Dear Mr. Reeve,—The Naval Review and the ensuing operations have not, I hope, given you such a surfeit of naval affairs as to indispose you to hear a little of the recent cruise of the Mediterranean squadron. We left Malta, under the command of the Duke of Edinburgh, in May, and visited several ports on the coast of Italy. During H.R.H.'s absence in England, when attending the Jubilee, we stayed at the convenient harbour of Aranci Bay in the island of Sardinia. There we carried out a series of instructive torpedo and under-water mining exercises. After leaving Sardinia, we called at several Spanish ports—Barcelona, Valencia, Cartagena and Malaga—eventually reaching this place last Friday evening.

The effect of our visits to both Italy and Spain has been—especially in the case of the latter country—remarkably gratifying. The presence of a son of the Queen was evidently taken as a compliment by Italians and Spaniards of all classes. Barcelona, Cartagena, and Malaga are notoriously anti-monarchical in sentiment. Yet in every one H.R.H. had a most flattering reception. The enthusiasm of the populace at Cartagena was fully equal to any shown by an English crowd for any popular royal personage. People may say what they like, but the advantages to the country of having a prince in the position held by the Duke are considerable. The friendliness of the Italians is striking; and I am confident the feelings of Spaniards of all classes are more favourable to England than they have been for half a century. We hear now that we are to go on to Cadiz, where a maritime exhibition is to be opened this month; and it is understood that this extension of our cruise is at the request of the Spaniards themselves. I have visited Spanish ports often before now, and never noticed any friendliness towards us. Should the necessity of looking for allies arise, it is nearly certain that both Italy and Spain would be disposed to range themselves on our side. It will be a pity if diplomatic bungling occurs to alter this satisfactory condition of things….

Pray give my kind remembrances to Mrs. Reeve.

Yours sincerely,

CYPRIAN A. G. BRIDGE.

It has been seen that for some years back Reeve had been occasionally thinking of retiring from his post of Registrar. The near completion of fifty years' service revived the notion, and his illness at Wiesbaden, following an earlier attack in April, confirmed it. When his mind was once made up, the rest was a matter of detail. The Journal notes:—

August 10th.—Taxed costs and wound up business at the Council Office for the last time again; but went there again on October 11th.

12th.—To Foxholes, where fever and bad fit of gout came on; I was very unwell till September 3rd.

21st.—My dog Sylvia [Footnote: A collie, so called after her donor, M. Sylvain van de Weyer. A brother of hers belonged to the Queen.] died. A fond and faithful companion of sixteen years.

September 5th.—Mr. G. H. Dorrell came as my secretary, and I dictated an article on foreign affairs.

From Mr. C. L. Peel [Footnote: Clerk of the Council in succession to Sir Arthur Helps. Now Sir Charles Peel.]

56 Eccleston Square, October 5th.

My Dear Reeve,—I was so taken aback by your announcement to-day, that I really could not find words in which to express the sincere regret with which I heard it. You are so thoroughly identified in my mind with the Council Office, and I am so much indebted to you for advice and assistance during the last twelve years, that I shall feel quite lost when I can no longer rely upon the experience, judgement, and kindness which have hitherto been available to me in any difficulty.

I only trust that by relieving yourself in good time from the ties of office, you may enjoy a long spell of happy and active retirement, which you have so well earned, and into which you will be followed by the best wishes of all you leave behind. Believe me always,

Yours most sincerely,

C. L. PEEL.

It appears from the Journal that the resignation was not officially made till some days later.

October 24th.—I resigned the Registrarship of the Privy Council, which I had held, as Clerk of Appeals and Registrar, since November 17th, 1837. The rest of the year at Foxholes.

At the sitting of the Judicial Committee on November 2nd, Sir Barnes Peacock formally announced to the Bar the resignation of the Registrar, and after briefly mentioning the dates of his service as Clerk of Appeals since 1837 and Registrar since the creation of the office in 1853, he went on:—

'It is unnecessary to state to the Bar the manner in which the duties of that office have been performed by Mr. Reeve. He is not present to-day. He has been prevented, I believe, by the state of his health, from travelling to London. Their Lordships are sorry that he is not present, that they might personally bid him farewell. They have given me, as the oldest member of the Judicial Committee now present, the privilege of expressing and recording their deep sense of the loss which must be sustained, both by the Judicial Committee and the public, by being deprived of the valuable services of Mr. Henry Reeve. His long and varied experience, extending over a period of nearly half a century, his extensive knowledge, his great tact and the sound judgement which he brought to bear in the discharge of the duties of his office, render his retirement a serious loss both to the Judicial Committee and to the public. Their Lordships could not allow Mr. Reeve to depart from his office in silence. They trust that he may long enjoy in health and happiness that rest, relaxation, and repose which he has so fully and meritoriously earned, and to which he is so justly entitled. Many men retire from an arduous profession or office, and when they are relieved from the duties which they have for many years been called upon to discharge, sink into a state of ennui and listlessness which are not conducive either to a long life or to health or happiness. But their Lordships feel sure that that will not be the case with Mr. Henry Reeve. His literary and other congenial tastes and pursuits, and his industrious habits, will no doubt supply him with full employment for his still active and vigorous mind. In taking their leave of Mr. Henry Reeve on his departure from office their Lordships will only add, 'Let honour be where honour is justly deserved.'

To this Mr. Aston, Q.C., replied, as the oldest member of the Bar present:—

'I refrain from attempting to add anything to what your Lordship has said, for fear that the feebleness of my addition might detract from the force of that which your Lordship has expressed. But I cannot help saying that, after having appeared at your Lordships' Bar in this place for upwards of a quarter of a century, I have myself personally received, and I have seen the members of the Bar who have practised with me always receive, from Mr. Reeve the utmost courtesy, attention, and assistance. We often have, my Lords, in practising before you, a difficult task to discharge. Our clients are not familiar with the practice of your Lordships' Court, if I may use the term. But on all occasions Mr. Registrar Reeve has given the utmost assistance, and therefore I beg to say, on behalf of the Bar whom I venture to represent, that we cordially endorse all that your Lordship has said, and express our unfeigned regret that we shall no longer have the services of Mr. Reeve in your Lordships' chamber.'

To Mr. T. Norton Longman

Foxholes, November 4th.—I hope you saw the funeral oration Sir Barnes Peacock pronounced on me in the Privy Council. It is in the outer sheet of the 'Times' of Tuesday [Nov. 1st], and perhaps in some other papers; a very kind and handsome tribute; and it is pleasanter to have these things said when one is alive than when one is dead.

The notice in the 'Times' brought Reeve many letters from his friends; amongst others, the following:—

From Lord Ebury

November 9th.—I see you are going to desert the Council altogether. I hope you will long enjoy the otium which you have so worthily merited, and will have time to assist in extinguishing Gladstone.

From the Duc d'Aumale

Woodnorton, 15 novembre.—Je regrette d'apprendre que votre santÉ a ÉtÉ si eprouvÉe…. Je suis toujours affligÉe de voir mes amis se retirer de la vie active; mais je comprends les motifs qui vous ont dictÉ votre demission….

Je suis si honteux de ce qui se passe en France que je n'ose pas vous en parler, et je me borne a vous serrer bien cordialement la main.

The Journal then notes:—

1888.—The year began at Foxholes. The Ogilvies there for three weeks. Came to London on January 3rd.

February 4th.—Sir Henry Maine died at Cannes. A great loss.

March 5th.—The railroad from Brockenhurst to Christchurch opened. Went down to the ceremony. Came back at 7 and dined with Millais to meet the Lord Chancellor. Mrs. Procter died.

9th—Emperor William of Germany died. Various dinners.

April 10th.—Gladstone dined at The Club. Froude, Smith, Hewett, and Hooker there.

27th—Left London for Basle with Christine at 11 A.M. and arrived there, and thence, at Lucerne, on the 28th at 9 A.M. Capital journey.

From Lucerne they went on to Milan and Bologna and to Florence, which they reached on May 3rd, which they made their headquarters for the next three weeks, seeing all that was interesting in the city and the neighbourhood, and visiting Siena, Chiusi, Perugia, and Assisi. Then to Spezia, Turin, Geneva, and to Paris on the 24th.

Meantime Reeve, having been proposed by St.-Hilaire, supported by the Duc d'Aumale, Jules Simon, and Duruy, as a foreign member of the Institut de France, in succession to Sir Henry Maine, had been elected by a large majority on May 8th. He seems to have received the first news of this from the Duc d'Aumale, who wrote from Palermo on May 10th:—

Mon ancien maÎtre, confrÈre et ami, Duruy, m'ecrit que vous venez d'etre nommÉ associÉ Étranger de son AcadÉmie par vingt-sept voix. C'est un beau succÈs dont je veux tout de suite me rÉjouir avec vous, en attendant que je puisse le faire de vive voix. Je compte Être le 20 de ce mois À Bruxelles, et dÎner avec le Club quelque jour du mois de juin.

The election had to be approved by the President of the Republic, and the
result was not officially communicated till the 19th. It would seem that
Reeve did not receive it till his arrival in Paris, and on the next day,
May 25th, St.-Hilaire wrote:—

Demain je vous accompagnerai pour votre entrÉe À l'AcadÉmie. Vous verrez que le cÉrÉmonial est des plus simples. Je vous prÉsenterai spÉcialement À M. Franck, qui, sur ma demande, a ÉtÉ votre rapporteur, et qui a parlÉ de vous en termes excellents.

From the Duc d'Aumale he received, a few days later:—

Bruxelles, 31 mai.—Je ne doutais pas du bon accueil qui vous serait fait À l'Institut, et je suis ravi d'en recevoir le tÉmoignage par votre lettre. Je voudrais bien pouvoir assister au dÎner du Club du 12 juin; mais j'en ai quelque doute, tandis que je crois Être certain, Deo adjuvante, de pouvoir m'asseoir À notre table fraternelle le mardi 26. Je vous serre affectueusement la main.

On May 28th Reeve returned to London. The entries in the Journal are of little interest, but he noted:—

June 12th.—At Lady Knutsford's, evening, met Lord and Lady Lansdowne, just back from Canada.

15th.—To Foxholes. The Emperor Fritz of Germany died. During the whole of his short reign, which lasted ninety-nine days, the most bitter quarrels went on about his medical treatment. It was a great tragedy.

25th.—To London again. 26th, breakfasted with the Duc d'Aumale, who dined at The Club.

July 2nd.—To Winchester Quarter Sessions to qualify as J.P. for Hampshire, having been recently appointed by Lord Carnarvon.

9th.—Attended Petty Sessions at Christchurch.

30th.—Winchester Assizes. On the Grand Jury.

The next letter, from Sir Arthur Gordon, refers to an incident alluded to in the 'Greville Memoirs,' [Footnote: Third Part, i. 54-5.] which Reeve had commented on at some length, with a reference to the Memoirs of Lord Malmesbury, published some four years before.

What Lord Malmesbury had said amounted to this—that in 1844, when the Russian Emperor Nicholas was in London, 'he, Sir Robert Peel (then prime minister) and Lord Aberdeen (then foreign secretary) drew up and signed a memorandum' to the effect that England 'would support Russia in her legitimate protectorship of the Greek religion and the Holy Shrines, without consulting France. Lord Malmesbury added that the fact of Lord Aberdeen, one of the signers of this paper, being prime minister in 1853, was taken by Nicholas as a ground for believing that England would not join France to restrain the pretensions of Russia, and therefore, by implication, that Lord Aberdeen's being prime minister was a—if not the—principal cause of the war. [Footnote: Lord Malmesbury's Memoirs of an Ex-Minister (1st edit.), i. 402-3.]

The memorandum itself, as printed in the Blue Book, differs essentially, both in matter and form, from Lord Malmesbury's description of it. It is entitled 'Memorandum by Count Nesselrode delivered to Her Majesty's Government and founded on communications received from the Emperor of Russia subsequently to His Imperial Majesty's visit to England in June 1844.' [Footnote: Parliamentary Papers, 1854, lxxi. 863.] It is unsigned, and from the nature of it must be so; it is in no sense an agreement, but a proposal that England should agree to act in concert with Russia and Austria; and nothing whatever is said about the Greek religion, the Holy Places, or the Russian protectorate. It is of course possible that conversations between Nicholas and Lord Aberdeen, which preceded the drawing up of this memorandum, may have encouraged the one and hampered the other; but of this there is no evidence, and Lord Malmesbury could not possibly know anything about it, though he did know something—very inaccurately it appears—about the memorandum. The discrepancies had, in fact, led Reeve to suppose that Malmesbury's statement must refer to another memorandum; and thus Lord Stanmore's letter has a singular historical interest, bearing, as it does, on a point that has been much discussed.

From Sir Arthur Gordon

Queen's House, Colombo, July 30th—I am very sorry that I did not contrive to meet you while in England…. I am almost equally sorry—in fact, am equally sorry—that my laziness and procrastination in sending you my notes prevented their being of any use in the revision of the seventh volume [of the Greville Memoirs]. I am the more sorry because I confess I greatly regret that the mare's-nest of the Russian Memorandum of 1844 should remain unpulled to pieces. You seem half-incredulous as to my explanation, and ask very naturally, If that is all, why should there have been any secrecy about it? The secrecy was due to the form, not the matter. The memorandum was the Emperor's own account of his conversations with the Duke, Sir R. Peel, and Lord Aberdeen, and a copy of it was sent in a private letter from Count Nesselrode to Lord Aberdeen. It was never in the hands of the ordinary diplomatic agents for official communication to the English Government, nor was it ever treated as an official document. But its importance was too great to allow its being treated as an ordinary private letter, and my father personally handed it to Lord Palmerston when replaced at the F. O. by him. Lord Palmerston delivered it in the same way to Lord Granville, Lord Granville to Lord Malmesbury, Lord Malmesbury to Lord John Russell, and Lord John to Lord Clarendon. In 1853 the Emperor made some reference to this paper which was supposed to make it a public document, and it was then printed and laid before Parliament soon after the beginning of the war. This I assure you is the whole history and mystery of the Russian Memorandum, Lord M. notwithstanding. This is not the only instance in which Lord M. has mixed up, in singular fashion, what he himself knew and what was the club gossip at the time.

The Journal here notes:—

August 20th.—Drove over to Lytchet Heath, to stay with the Eustace Cecils.

September 10th.—Joined Mrs. Watney in the 'Palatine' yacht at Bournemouth. Crossed to Trouville in the night. Lay in 'the ditch' for twenty hours. 12th, Cherbourg. Met the French fleet and saw the arsenal. 13th, back to Southampton and to Foxholes. Pleasant trip; good weather.

20th—The Eustace Cecils came: took them to Heron Court. This was the last time Lord Malmesbury saw people there.

From the Duc d'Aumale

Woodnorton, 26 septembre.

TrÈs cher ami,—Vous Êtes bien heureux de pouvoir aller vous promener À
Cherbourg et À Paris. Enfin!

Oui, j'ai reÇu un peu de plomb, et mÊme assez prÈs de l'oeil gauche; mais le proverbe dit que ce mÉtal est ami de l'homme. J'en serai quitte pour quelques petites bosses sous la peau, et je vous souhaite de vous porter aussi bien que je le fais en ce moment.

J'irai À Knowsley dans la seconde quinzaine d'octobre; À Sandringham, dans les premiers jours de novembre; puis mes neveux viendront tirer mes faisans. J'espÈre bien prendre part aux agapes du Club le 27 novembre et 11 dÉcembre, et serai bien heureux de vous revoir un peu. En attendant je vous serre la main, mon cher confrÈre.

H. D'ORLÉANS.

To Lord Derby

Foxholes, October 2nd.—I am amused by the Court quarrel in Germany, though I am afraid the broken heads will not be royal heads. Bismarck will wreak his vengeance on numberless victims. Geffcken is a very old friend of mine, and an occasional contributor to the 'Edinburgh Review;' but I am afraid it will go hard with him, for Bismarck regards him as a personal enemy. If the Prince had lived Bismarck could not have remained in office, and the course of affairs might have been materially changed.

* * * * *

On October 25th Reeve, with his wife, crossed over to Paris. He attended the Institut on the 26th, and heard mass at Notre Dame on the 27th; but his principal object seems to have been to consult Dr. Perrin about his eyes, which for some time back had caused him some uneasiness. A literary man of seventy-five is naturally quick to take alarm, and an English oculist had recommended an operation. This Reeve was unwilling to undergo, at any rate without another and entirely independent opinion; and as Dr. Perrin pronounced strongly against it, no operation was performed; and with care and good glasses his eyes continued serviceable to the last. On November 8th the Reeves returned to London, where, as Parliament was sitting, they remained till Christmas; and, according to the Journal:—

November 27th.—The Club was brilliant with the Duc d'Aumale, Wolseley, Lord Derby, and Coleridge. Boehm and Maunde Thompson were elected.

December 1st.—To All Souls, Oxford. Prothero, Dicey, Oman, George Curzon, &c. Stayed over Sunday.

27th.—To Timsbury: thence to Foxholes on the 29th.

January 15th, 1889.—Returned to London.

From M. B. St.-Hilaire

Paris, January 20th.—It was very good of you to think of my book on 'L'Inde Anglaise,' and I thank you for the 'Edinburgh Review' which you have sent me. I read the article with great interest. It is very well done, and I beg you to thank the author in my name for having taken the trouble to read me with so much attention and good will. I do not think I have exaggerated the danger which threatens your great enterprise in India. The Transcaspian Railway, which will very soon run from Samarkand to Tashkend, seems to me one source of it. Yours will, indeed, soon reach to Candahar; but Russia is at home in the country, whilst England is very far off. The magnanimous confidence you have in your own strength is most praiseworthy—provided that your watchfulness is not allowed to slumber…. Meanwhile I remain constant in my admiration of what the English are doing in India; and the administration of Lord Dufferin may well confirm me in my opinion. There is nothing like it, or so great as it, in the history of the past.

From Lord Dufferin

British Embassy, Rome, January 27th.

My dear Reeve,—Many thanks for your letter of the 16th. As you may well suppose, I am delighted with Lyall's article; for he is acknowledged, both by Indian and by so much of English public opinion as knows anything of the matter, to have been the best Indian public servant that the present generation has produced. In addition, or, as perhaps some would say, in spite of possessing real literary genius, he proved himself a most wise, shrewd, and capable administrator. I do not believe he made a single mistake during his whole career. At all events, I never heard of his having done so; and a slip is scarcely made in India without the fact being duly recorded. What pleases me most is that the kind words he uses about myself should be embedded in the exposition of his own opinions upon Indian questions—opinions full of acuteness, justice, and knowledge. It is these that will really make the article interesting to your readers, and consequently give a greater importance to what he has said about me than otherwise would have been the case. I have obeyed your orders in regard to sending a copy of my speech to M. Barthelemy St.-Hilaire.

The social history of the season is adequately chronicled in the Journal:—

February 5th.—The Ogilvies in London.

22nd.—Mr. Gollop [Mrs. Reeve's father] died; born October 11th, 1791. Christine had been down just before.

March 12th.—The Club. Good party: Lord Salisbury, Walpole, Tyndall, Hooker, Hewett, Lecky, Lyall, A. Russell, Layard, and self.

March 20th.—Meeting at Lord Carnarvon's about the bust of Sir C. Newton.

25th.—Breakfast at Sheen House with Comte and Comtesse de Paris, to meet LefÈvre-Pontalis and Bocher.

28th.—Lunched with Major Dawson at Woolwich and went over the Arsenal. Very interesting.

April 12th.—Meeting for Matthew Arnold's Memorial. 7,000 l. raised.

May 4th.—Dined at the Royal Academy dinner. Sat by Horsley, Tyndall, and Chitty.

From Sir Arthur Gordon

May 5th.—You may rely upon it that I am absolutely right as to the Russian Memorandum—Lord Malmesbury does not himself assert that he ever saw it, which, had it existed, he must have done when Foreign Secretary. I cannot, of course, expect you to attach the same weight that I do to what I may call the personal reasons which make me utterly incredulous of Lord Malmesbury's story; but there are other reasons for doubting it, some of which may have already occurred to you. One is the alleged form of the document, which is said to be signed by the Emperor, the Duke, my father, and Sir R. Peel. Lord Malmesbury prides himself on the knowledge of diplomatic forms and etiquettes derived from his grandfather's papers. He might have known that the signature of an engagement by a Sovereign (and such a Sovereign!) on the one side and three ministers of another Sovereign on the other (thereby putting them on species of equality) was an impossibility. Such a paper, if it existed, would be signed either by both Sovereigns or by the ministers of both. I think I may say with confidence that the Emperor Nicholas was a most unlikely man to perform such an act of condescension. And why should he? He had his confidential minister with him. Another, and I think fatal, objection is that neither my father nor Lord Clarendon were altogether absolute fools, and when, in answer to the Emperor's challenge, they published the secret memorandum which had till then been handed on privately from minister to minister, they knew what they were about, and would never have put it into the power of the Emperor to retort that that was not what he referred to, but to a paper which would not improve the cordiality of the Anglo-French alliance. Again, is it likely that, if the Emperor had entered into such an agreement, he would take the trouble to write another long memorandum, containing the 'substance' of his discussions with the English ministers? This is the memorandum which was sent in a private letter, which I possess, from Count Nesselrode to my father; which was handed from minister to minister, and which was published in 1854. The original draft, Count Nesselrode said, was in the Emperor's own hand. I have another little bit of evidence which I think also goes to prove that no such agreement was entered into in 1844, as Lord Malmesbury supposes. In 1845 Count Nesselrode visited England. My father, writing to the Queen, gives an account of his conversations with Nesselrode, and says: 'His language very much resembled that held by the Emperor; and although he made no specific proposals, his declarations of support, in case of necessity, were more unequivocal.' (The italics are mine.) Could he have written this if he had already, some months before, signed an agreement with the Emperor, which was both unequivocal and specific?

From the Comte de Paris

Sheen House, 7 mai.

Mon cher Monsieur Reeve ,—Nous aussi, nous n'avons pas oubliÉ votre prÉsence À notre mariage le 30 mai 1864. La Comtesse de Paris et moi nous sommes bien touchÉs de la maniÈre dont vous nous le rappelez, et je vous remercie de tout coeur de ce que vous me dites et des voeux que vous m'adressez en cette occasion. Au milieu de toutes les vicissitudes de notre vie pendant ces vingt-cinq ans nous avons ÉtÉ constamment soutenus par le bonheur domestique que cette union nous a donnÉ et par toutes les satisfactions que nous ont causÉes nos enfants.

Lorsque j'ai reÇu votre lettre j'allais vous Écrire, ainsi qu'À Madame Reeve, de vouloir bien venir ici le 30 mai dans l'aprÈs-midi: nous recevons entre 2 et 5 tous les amis qui viendront fÊter cet anniversaire avec nous. Je me souviens bien que Madame Reeve Était avec vous À la chapelle de Kingston, mais ma mÉmoire n'est pas sÛre en ce qui concerne Madame votre fille. Je vous serais bien reconnaissant de me faire savoir si elle Était avec vous ce jour-lÀ. En attendant je vous prie de me croire Votre bien affectionnÉ,

PHILIPPE COMTE DE PARIS.

The Journal notes:—

May 7th.—The Club: Due d'Aumale, Lord Salisbury, Wolseley, Carlisle, A. Russell, Hewett, Stephen—very brilliant.

8th.—Returned to Foxholes.

16th.—Drove to Heron Court. Lord Malmesbury dying.

17th.—Lord Malmesbury died. 22nd, attended his funeral in Priory Church. 29th, to London.

30th.—The silver wedding of the Comte and Comtesse de Paris at Sheen. All the French Royalties, Prince of Wales, &c. About five hundred people; 169 persons still alive who were at the wedding in 1864. A silver medal was sent to all the survivors.

From M. B. St.-Hilaire

Paris, June 6th.—If I am free in the autumn, it will give me great pleasure to pay you another visit at Foxholes; the first has left a pleasant memory, and I ask no better than to repeat it. But, without having to complain of old age, I find more difficulty in going about. I am not exactly ill, but my strength gradually fails—a sign that the end is not far off.

I foresaw that General Boulanger would have no success in England; you are much too serious for such a nature as his. His popularity diminishes daily; and if the Cabinet act with judgement from now to the October elections, I have no doubt they may regain public favour. The triumph of Boulangism would be the signal for horrible anarchy at home and war abroad, provoked by the madmen who had climbed into power.

Monarchy, in the person of the Comte de Paris, is losing rather than gaining ground here. If France should ever return to a dynasty, it would be more likely to be the Bonapartes. The terrible name of Napoleon has still an immense prestige, however unworthy his successors.

M. St.-Hilaire's visit did not come off. The Journal mentions many dinners, receptions, and garden parties in town during June and July, and eleven days in August on board Mrs. Watney's yacht 'Palatine,' to see the naval review on the 5th. 'Very rough weather all the time.' In September a journey to Edinburgh and on the 14th to Chesters, chronicled as 'my first visit to my daughter.' A week later Reeve returned south; and, paying a few short visits on the way, including a day at Knowsley, was back at Foxholes by the 26th.

From Count Vitzthum

Villa Vitzthum, Baden Baden, August 30th.

My dear Mr. Reeve,—I beg to send you the proofs of the preface and contents, in order to show you the plan of my book.

I am very sorry that you do not approve of the account I have given of our interview in September 1866. It was unfortunately too late to cancel the letter, but nothing would prevent leaving it out if those memoirs should ever be translated. On further consideration, and after reading the foregoing pages, you will find, I am sure, that your comment on the situation in September 1866 was not only correct, but very valuable. The peace of Europe then was threatened by two eventualities, of which one happened: by an ostensible alliance between Prussia and France, or by an immediate war between both. Rouher and Lavalette worked very hard for the alliance, and your sound judgement indicated the consequences which such an alliance would have had. I quite agree with you about these relations. But the opinion of a man like you is a fact, and an important fact; because you have been in those days what they call a representative man; because you represented a great portion of the Liberal party. It does not take one iota off the value of your opinion—which, you may depend upon it, was correctly recorded—if the course of events took another turn, and if this monster alliance remained a dream of adventurous French politicians. The thing was on the cards.

As for Napoleon's malady, all I can say [is] that Nelaton, who then was consulted for the first time, wrote a letter to King Leopold of Belgium, stating that it was very probable the Emperor of the French would be found any morning dead in his bed, and that he would most likely die before the end of November. Very truly yours,

VITZTHUM.

In consequence of this letter Mr. Reeve wrote to Mr. T. Norton Longman:—

Foxholes, September 3rd.—Count Vitzthum is about to publish two more volumes of his political reminiscences during his mission in London. I send you the index of the work, from which you will see that it contains a good deal of matter, anecdotes, &c., of interest to English readers. You will judge from the result of the former work whether you think it worth while to engage in the publication of a translation of these later volumes. But, as I am going away till the end of the month, I cannot negotiate with Count Vitzthum or with the translator, and I must beg you to take that upon yourself.

A month later, however, on October 2nd, he wrote that, after seeing the book, he was of opinion that it would not stand translation. It was reviewed in the 'Edinburgh' of January 1890, but was not translated.

From Lord Derby

November 11th.—I have only begun the Life of Lord John. It would be a very difficult one to write in a spirit at once of fairness and friendship. My impression of the man was and is that he was more thoroughly and essentially a partisan than anyone I have known; and sometimes open to the comment, that he seemed to consider the Universe as existing for the sake of the Whig party. Perhaps this would not strike anyone who was trained up in the same school, as strongly as it did me. On the other hand, I think he was more generally consistent, and had fewer of his own words to eat, than any politician of his time or of ours. His religious politics were his weak part; they were rather narrow and sectarian. I suppose he was forced by the Court into his quarrel with Palmerston; which was the trouble of his later official life, and caused these uneasy struggles to recover a lost position which did him harm. But with all drawbacks he has left an honoured and distinguished name. Do you think there is any ground for the idea which Lady Russell puts about that, if he had lived till now, he would have gone for Home Rule?

Turkish invasion spread terror to the shores of the lagoons; and in 1508 the league of Cambrai marks the period usually assigned as the commencement of the decline of the Venetian power; [Footnote: Ominously signified by their humiliation to the Papal power (as before to the Turkish) in 1509, and their abandonment of their right of appointing the clergy of their territories.] the commercial prosperity of Venice in the close of the fifteenth century blinding her historians to the previous evidence of the diminution of her internal strength.

SECTION VI. Now there is apparently a significative coincidence between the establishment of the aristocratic and oligarchical powers, and the diminution of the prosperity of the state. But this is the very question at issue; and it appears to me quite undetermined by any historian, or determined by each in accordance with his own prejudices. It is a triple question: first, whether the oligarchy established by the efforts of individual ambition was the cause, in its subsequent operation, of the Fall of Venice; or (secondly) whether the establishment of the oligarchy itself be not the sign and evidence, rather than the cause, of national enervation; or (lastly) whether, as I rather think, the history of Venice might not be written almost without reference to the construction of her senate or the prerogatives of her Doge. It is the history of a people eminently at unity in itself, descendants of Roman race, long disciplined by adversity, and compelled by its position either to live nobly or to perish:—for a thousand years they fought for life; for three hundred they invited death: their battle was rewarded, and their call was heard.

SECTION VII. Throughout her career, the victories of Venice, and, at many periods of it, her safety, were purchased by individual heroism; and the man who exalted or saved her was sometimes (oftenest) her king, sometimes a noble, sometimes a citizen. To him no matter, nor to her: the real question is, not so much what names they bore, or with what powers they were entrusted, as how they were trained; how they were made masters of themselves, servants of their country, patient of distress, impatient of dishonor; and what was the true reason of the change from the time when she could find saviours among those whom she had cast into prison, to that when the voices of her own children commanded her to sign covenant with Death. [Footnote: The senate voted the abdication of their authority by a majority of 512 to 14. (Alison, ch. xxiii.)]

SECTION VIII. On this collateral question I wish the reader's mind to be fixed throughout all our subsequent inquiries. It will give double interest to every detail: nor will the interest be profitless; for the evidence which I shall be able to deduce from the arts of Venice will be both frequent and irrefragable, that the decline of her political prosperity was exactly coincident with that of domestic and individual religion.

I say domestic and individual; for—and this is the second point which I wish the reader to keep in mind—the most curious phenomenon in all Venetian history is the vitality of religion in private life, and its deadness in public policy. Amidst the enthusiasm, chivalry, or fanaticism of the other states of Europe, Venice stands, from first to last, like a masked statue; her coldness impenetrable, her exertion only aroused by the touch of a secret spring. That spring was her commercial interest,—this the one motive of all her important political acts, or enduring national animosities. She could forgive insults to her honor, but never rivalship in her commerce; she calculated the glory of her conquests by their value, and estimated their justice by their facility. The fame of success remains; when the motives of attempt are forgotten; and the casual reader of her history may perhaps be surprised to be reminded, that the expedition which was commanded by the noblest of her princes, and whose results added most to her military glory, was one in which while all Europe around her was wasted by the fire of its devotion, she first calculated the highest price she could exact from its piety for the armament she furnished, and then, for the advancement of her own private interests, at once broke her faith [Footnote: By directing the arms of the Crusaders against a Christian prince. (Daru, liv. iv. ch. iv. viii.)] and betrayed her religion.

SECTION IX. And yet, in the midst of this national criminality, we shall be struck again and again by the evidences of the most noble individual feeling. The tears of Dandolo were not shed in hypocrisy, though they could not blind him to the importance of the conquest of Zara. The habit of assigning to religion a direct influence over all his own actions, and all the affairs of his own daily life, is remarkable in every great Venetian during the times of the prosperity of the state; nor are instances wanting in which the private feeling of the citizens reaches the sphere of their policy, and even becomes the guide of its course where the scales of expediency are doubtfully balanced. I sincerely trust that the inquirer would be disappointed who should endeavor to trace any more immediate reasons for their adoption of the cause of Alexander III. against Barbarossa, than the piety which was excited by the character of their suppliant, and the noble pride which was provoked by the insolence of the emperor. But the heart of Venice is shown only in her hastiest councils; her worldly spirit recovers the ascendency whenever she has time to calculate the probabilities of advantage, or when they are sufficiently distinct to need no calculation; and the entire subjection of private piety to national policy is not only remarkable throughout the almost endless series of treacheries and tyrannies by which her empire was enlarged and maintained, but symbolized by a very singular circumstance in the building of the city itself. I am aware of no other city of Europe in which its cathedral was not the principal feature. But the principal church in Venice was the chapel attached to the palace of her prince, and called the "Chiesa Ducale." The patriarchal church, [Footnote: Appendix 4, "San Pietro di Castello."] inconsiderable in size and mean in decoration, stands on the outermost islet of the Venetian group, and its name, as well as its site, is probably unknown to the greater number of travellers passing hastily through the city. Nor is it less worthy of remark, that the two most important temples of Venice, next to the ducal chapel, owe their size and magnificence, not to national effort, but to the energy of the Franciscan and Dominican monks, supported by the vast organization of those great societies on the mainland of Italy, and countenanced by the most pious, and perhaps also, in his generation, the most wise, of all the princes of Venice, [Footnote: Tomaso Mocenigo, above named, Section V.] who now rests beneath the roof of one of those very temples, and whose life is not satirized by the images of the Virtues which a Tuscan sculptor has placed around his tomb.

SECTION X. There are, therefore, two strange and solemn lights in which we have to regard almost every scene in the fitful history of the Rivo Alto. We find, on the one hand, a deep, and constant tone of individual religion characterizing the lives of the citizens of Venice in her greatness; we find this spirit influencing them in all the familiar and immediate concerns of life, giving a peculiar dignity to the conduct even of their commercial transactions, and confessed by them with a simplicity of faith that may well put to shame the hesitation with which a man of the world at present admits (even if it be so in reality) that religious feeling has any influence over the minor branches of his conduct. And we find as the natural consequence of all this, a healthy serenity of mind and energy of will expressed in all their actions, and a habit of heroism which never fails them, even when the immediate motive of action ceases to be praiseworthy. With the fulness of this spirit the prosperity of the state is exactly correspondent, and with its failure her decline, and that with a closeness and precision which it will be one of the collateral objects of the following essay to demonstrate from such accidental evidence as the field of its inquiry presents. And, thus far, all is natural and simple. But the stopping short of this religious faith when it appears likely to influence national action, correspondent as it is, and that most strikingly, with several characteristics of the temper of our present English legislature, is a subject, morally and politically, of the most curious interest and complicated difficulty; one, however, which the range of my present inquiry will not permit me to approach, and for the treatment of which I must be content to furnish materials in the light I may be able to throw upon the private tendencies of the Venetian character.

I need hardly say whence the lines are taken: Rogers' "Italy" has, I believe, now a place in the best beloved compartment of all libraries, and will never be removed from it. There is more true expression of the spirit of Venice in the passages devoted to her in that poem, than in all else that has been written of her.] the central expression in most men's thoughts of the unendurable elevation of the pontifical power; it is true that the proudest thoughts of Venice, as well as the insignia of her prince, and the form of her chief festival, recorded the service thus rendered to the Roman Church. But the enduring sentiment of years more than balanced the enthusiasm of a moment; and the bull of Clement V., which excommunicated the Venetians and their doge, likening them to Dathan, Abiram, Absalom, and Lucifer, is a stronger evidence of the great tendencies of the Venetian government than the umbrella of the doge or the ring of the Adriatic. The humiliation of Francesco Dandolo blotted out the shame of Barbarossa, and the total exclusion of ecclesiastics from all share in the councils of Venice became an enduring mark of her knowledge of the spirit of the Church of Rome, and of her defiance of it.

To this exclusion of Papal influence from her councils, the Romanist will attribute their irreligion, and the Protestant their success. [Footnote: At least, such success as they had. Vide Appendix 5, "The Papal Power in Venice."]

The first may be silenced by a reference to the character of the policy of the Vatican itself; and the second by his own shame, when he reflects that the English legislature sacrificed their principles to expose themselves to the very danger which the Venetian senate sacrificed theirs to avoid.

SECTION XII. One more circumstance remains to be noted respecting the Venetian government, the singular unity of the families composing it,—unity far from sincere or perfect, but still admirable when contrasted with the fiery feuds, the almost daily revolutions, the restless successions of families and parties in power, which fill the annals of the other states of Italy. That rivalship should sometimes be ended by the dagger, or enmity conducted to its ends under the mask of law, could not but be anticipated where the fierce Italian spirit was subjected to so severe a restraint: it is much that jealousy appears usually unmingled with illegitimate ambition, and that, for every instance in which private passion sought its gratification through public danger, there are a thousand in which it was sacrificed to the public advantage. Venice may well call upon us to note with reverence, that of all the towers which are still seen rising like a branchless forest from her islands, there is but one whose office was other than that of summoning to prayer, and that one was a watch-tower only [Footnote: Thus literally was fulfilled the promise to St. Mark,—Pax e.] from first to last, while the palaces of the other cities of Italy were lifted into sullen fortitudes of rampart, and fringed with forked battlements for the javelin and the bow, the sands of Venice never sank under the weight of a war tower, and her roof terraces were wreathed with Arabian imagery, of golden globes suspended on the leaves of lilies. [Footnote: The inconsiderable fortifications of the arsenal are no exception to this statement, as far as it regards the city itself. They are little more than a semblance of precaution against the attack of a foreign enemy.]

SECTION XIII. These, then, appear to me to be the points of chief general interest in the character and fate of the Venetian people. I would next endeavor to give the reader some idea of the manner in which the testimony of Art bears upon these questions, and of the aspect which the arts themselves assume when they are regarded in their true connection with the history of the state.

1st. Receive the witness of Painting.

It will be remembered that I put the commencement of the Fall of Venice as far back as 1418.

Now, John Bellini was born in 1423, and Titian in 1480. John Bellini, and his brother Gentile, two years older than he, close the line of the sacred painters of Venice. But the most solemn spirit of religious faith animates their works to the last. There is no religion in any work of Titian's: there is not even the smallest evidence of religious temper or sympathies either in himself, or in those for whom he painted. His larger sacred subjects are merely themes for the exhibition of pictorial rhetoric,—composition and color. His minor works are generally made subordinate to purposes of portraiture. The Madonna in the church of the Frari is a mere lay figure, introduced to form a link of connection between the portraits of various members of the Pesaro family who surround her.

Now this is not merely because John Bellini was a religious man and Titian was not. Titian and Bellini are each true representatives of the school of painters contemporary with them; and the difference in their artistic feeling is a consequence not so much of difference in their own natural characters as in their early education: Bellini was brought up in faith; Titian in formalism. Between the years of their births the vital religion of Venice had expired.

SECTION XIV. The vital religion, observe, not the formal. Outward observance was as strict as ever; and doge and senator still were painted, in almost every important instance, kneeling before the Madonna or St. Mark; a confession of faith made universal by the pure gold of the Venetian sequin. But observe the great picture of Titian's in the ducal palace, of the Doge Antonio Grimani kneeling before Faith: there is a curious lesson in it. The figure of Faith is a coarse portrait of one of Titian's least graceful female models: Faith had become carnal. The eye is first caught by the flash of the Doge's armor. The heart of Venice was in her wars, not in her worship.

The mind of Tintoret, incomparably more deep and serious than that of Titian, casts the solemnity of its own tone over the sacred subjects which it approaches, and sometimes forgets itself into devotion; but the principle of treatment is altogether the same as Titian's: absolute subordination of the religious subject to purposes of decoration or portraiture.

The evidence might be accumulated a thousandfold from the works of Veronese, and of every succeeding painter,—that the fifteenth century had taken away the religious heart of Venice.

SECTION XV. Such is the evidence of Painting. To collect that of Architecture will be our task through many a page to come; but I must here give a general idea of its heads.

Philippe de Commynes, writing of his entry into Venice in 1495, says,—

"Chascun me feit seoir au meillieu de ces deux ambassadeurs qui est l'honneur d'Italie que d'estre au meillieu; et me menerent au long de la grant rue, qu'ilz appellent le Canal Grant, et est bien large. Les gallees y passent À travers et y ay veu navire de quatre cens tonneaux ou plus pres des maisons: et est la plus belle rue que je croy qui soit en tout le monde, et la mieulx maisonnee, et va le long de la ville. Les maisons sont fort grandes et haultes, et de bonne pierre, et les anciennes toutes painctes; les aul tres faictes depuis cent ans: toutes ont le devant de marbre blanc, qui leur vient d'Istrie, À cent mils de la, et encores maincte grant piece de porphire et de sarpentine sur le devant.... C'est la plus triumphante citÉ que j'aye jamais veue et qui plus faict d'honneur À ambassadeurs et estrangiers, et qui plus saigement se gouverne, et oÙ le service de Dieu est le plus sollennellement faict: et encores qu'il y peust bien avoir d'aultres faultes, si croy je que Dieu les a en ayde pour la reverence qu'ilz portent au service de l'Eglise." [Footnote: MÉmoires de Commynes, liv. vii. ch. xviii.]

SECTION XVI. This passage is of peculiar interest, for two reasons. Observe, first, the impression of Commynes respecting the religion of Venice: of which, as I have above said, the forms still remained with some glimmering of life in them, and were the evidence of what the real life had been in former times. But observe, secondly, the impression instantly made on Commynes' mind by the distinction between the elder palaces and those built "within this last hundred years; which all have their fronts of white marble brought from Istria, a hundred miles away, and besides, many a large piece of porphyry and serpentine upon their fronts."

On the opposite page I have given two of the ornaments of the palaces which so struck the French ambassador. [Footnote: Appendix 6, "Renaissance Ornaments."] He was right in his notice of the distinction. There had indeed come a change over Venetian architecture in the fifteenth century; and a change of some importance to us moderns: we English owe to it our St. Paul's Cathedral, and Europe in general owes to it the utter degradation or destruction of her schools of architecture, never since revived. But that the reader may understand this, it is necessary that he should have some general idea of the connection of the architecture of Venice with that of the rest of Europe, from its origin forwards.

SECTION XVII. All European architecture, bad and good, old and new, is derived from Greece through Rome, and colored and perfected from the East. The history of architecture is nothing but the tracing of the various modes and directions of this derivation. Understand this, once for all: if you hold fast this great connecting clue, you may string all the types of successive architectural invention upon it like so many beads. The Doric and the Corinthian orders are the roots, the one of all Romanesque, massy-capitaled buildings—Norman, Lombard, Byzantine, and what else you can name of the kind; and the Corinthian of all Gothic, Early English, French, German, and Tuscan. Now observe: those old Greeks gave the shaft; Rome gave the arch; the Arabs pointed and foliated the arch. The shaft and arch, the frame-work and strength of architecture, are from the race of Japheth: the spirituality and sanctity of it from Ismael, Abraham, and Shem.

SECTION XVIII. There is high probability that the Greek received his shaft system from Egypt; but I do not care to keep this earlier derivation in the mind of the reader. It is only necessary that he should be able to refer to a fixed point of origin, when the form of the shaft was first perfected. But it may be incidently observed, that if the Greeks did indeed receive their Doric from Egypt, then the three families of the earth have each contributed their part to its noblest architecture: and Ham, the servant of the others, furnishes the sustaining or bearing member, the shaft; Japheth the arch; Shem the spiritualization of both.

SECTION XIX. I have said that the two orders, Doric and Corinthian, are the roots of all European architecture. You have, perhaps, heard of five orders; but there are only two real orders, and there never can be any more until doomsday. On one of these orders the ornament is convex: those are Doric, Norman, and what else you recollect of the kind. On the other the ornament is concave: those are Corinthian, Early English, Decorated, and what else you recollect of that kind. The transitional form, in which the ornamental line is straight, is the centre or root of both. All other orders are varieties of those, or phantasms and grotesques altogether indefinite in number and species. [Footnote: Appendix 7, "Varieties of the Orders."]

SECTION XX. This Greek architecture, then, with its two orders, was clumsily copied and varied by the Romans with no particular result, until they begun to bring the arch into extensive practical service; except only that the Doric capital was spoiled in endeavors to mend it, and the Corinthian much varied and enriched with fanciful, and often very beautiful imagery. And in this state of things came Christianity: seized upon the arch as her own; decorated it, and delighted in it; invented a new Doric capital to replace the spoiled Roman one: and all over the Roman empire set to work, with such materials as were nearest at hand, to express and adorn herself as best she could. This Roman Christian architecture is the exact expression of the Christianity of the time, very fervid and beautiful—but very imperfect; in many respects ignorant, and yet radiant with a strong, childlike light of imagination, which flames up under Constantine, illumines all the shores of the Bosphorus and the Aegean and the Adriatic Sea, and then gradually, as the people give themselves up to idolatry, becomes Corpse-light. The architecture sinks into a settled form—a strange, gilded, and embalmed repose: it, with the religion it expressed; and so would have remained for ever,—so does remain, where its languor has been undisturbed. [Footnote: The reader will find the weak points of Byzantine architecture shrewdly seized, and exquisitely sketched, in the opening chapter of the most delightful book of travels I ever opened,— Curzon's "Monasteries of the Levant."] But rough wakening was ordained.

SECTION XXI. This Christian art of the declining empire is divided into two great branches, western and eastern; one centred at Rome, the other at Byzantium, of which the one is the early Christian Romanesque, properly so called, and the other, carried to higher imaginative perfection by Greek workmen, is distinguished from it as Byzantine. But I wish the reader, for the present, to class these two branches of art together in his mind, they being, in points of main importance, the same; that is to say, both of them a true continuance and sequence of the art of old Rome itself, flowing uninterruptedly down from the fountain-head, and entrusted always to the best workmen who could be found—Latins in Italy and Greeks in Greece; and thus both branches may be ranged under the general term of Christian Romanesque, an architecture which had lost the refinement of Pagan art in the degradation of the empire, but which was elevated by Christianity to higher aims, and by the fancy of the Greek workmen endowed with brighter forms. And this art the reader may conceive as extending in its various branches over all the central provinces of the empire, taking aspects more or less refined, according to its proximity to the seats of government; dependent for all its power on the vigor and freshness of the religion which animated it; and as that vigor and purity departed, losing its own vitality, and sinking into nerveless rest, not deprived of its beauty, but benumbed and incapable of advance or change.

SECTION XXII. Meantime there had been preparation for its renewal. While in Rome and Constantinople, and in the districts under their immediate influence, this Roman art of pure descent was practised in all its refinement, an impure form of it—a patois of Romanesque—was carried by inferior workmen into distant provinces; and still ruder imitations of this patois were executed by the barbarous nations on the skirts of the empire. But these barbarous nations were in the strength of their youth; and while, in the centre of Europe, a refined and purely descended art was sinking into graceful formalism, on its confines a barbarous and borrowed art was organizing itself into strength and consistency. The reader must therefore consider the history of the work of the period as broadly divided into two great heads: the one embracing the elaborately languid succession of the Christian art of Rome; and the other, the imitations of it executed by nations in every conceivable phase of early organization, on the edges of the empire, or included in its now merely nominal extent.

SECTION XXIII. Some of the barbaric nations were, of course, not susceptible of this influence; and when they burst over the Alps, appear, like the Huns, as scourges only, or mix, as the Ostrogoths, with the enervated Italians, and give physical strength to the mass with which they mingle, without materially affecting its intellectual character. But others, both south and north of the empire, had felt its influence, back to the beach of the Indian Ocean on the one hand, and to the ice creeks of the North Sea on the other. On the north and west the influence was of the Latins; on the south and east, of the Greeks. Two nations, pre-eminent above all the rest, represent to us the force of derived mind on either side. As the central power is eclipsed, the orbs of reflected light gather into their fulness; and when sensuality and idolatry had done their work, and the religion of the empire was laid asleep in a glittering sepulchre, the living light rose upon both horizons, and the fierce swords of the Lombard and Arab were shaken over its golden paralysis.

SECTION XXIV. The work of the Lombard was to give hardihood and system to the enervated body and enfeebled mind of Christendom; that of the Arab was to punish idolatry, and to proclaim the spirituality of worship. The Lombard covered every church which he built with the sculptured representations of bodily exercises—hunting and war. [Footnote: Appendix 8, "The Northern Energy."] The Arab banished all imagination of creature form from his temples, and proclaimed from their minarets, "There is no god but God." Opposite in their character and mission, alike in their magnificence of energy, they came from the North, and from the South, the glacier torrent and the lava stream: they met and contended over the wreck of the Roman empire; and the very centre of the struggle, the point of pause of both, the dead water of the opposite eddies, charged with embayed fragments of the Roman wreck, is VENICE.

The Ducal palace of Venice contains the three elements in exactly equal proportions—the Roman, Lombard, and Arab. It is the central building of the world.

SECTION XXV. The reader will now begin to understand something of the importance of the study of the edifices of a city which includes, within the circuit of some seven or eight miles, the field of contest between the three pre-eminent architectures of the world:—each architecture expressing a condition of religion; each an erroneous condition, yet necessary to the correction of the others, and corrected by them.

SECTION XXVI. It will be part of my endeavor, in the following work, to mark the various modes in which the northern and southern architectures were developed from the Roman: here I must pause only to name the distinguishing characteristics of the great families. The Christian Roman and Byzantine work is round-arched, with single and well-proportioned shafts; capitals imitated from classical Roman; mouldings more or less so; and large surfaces of walls entirely covered with imagery, mosaic, and paintings, whether of scripture history or of sacred symbols.

The Arab school is at first the same in its principal features, the Byzantine workmen being employed by the caliphs; but the Arab rapidly introduces characters half Persepolitan, half Egyptian, into the shafts and capitals: in his intense love of excitement he points the arch and writhes it into extravagant foliations; he banishes the animal imagery, and invents an ornamentation of his own (called Arabesque) to replace it: this not being adapted for covering large surfaces, he concentrates it on features of interest, and bars his surfaces with horizontal lines of color, the expression of the level of the Desert. He retains the dome, and adds the minaret. All is done with exquisite refinement.

SECTION XXVII. The changes effected by the Lombard are more curious still, for they are in the anatomy of the building, more than its decoration. The Lombard architecture represents, as I said, the whole of that of the northern barbaric nations. And this I believe was, at first, an imitation in wood of the Christian Roman churches or basilicas. Without staying to examine the whole structure of a basilica, the reader will easily understand thus much of it: that it had a nave and two aisles, the nave much higher than the aisles; that the nave was separated from the aisles by rows of shafts, which supported, above, large spaces of flat or dead wall, rising above the aisles, and forming the upper part of the nave, now called the clerestory, which had a gabled wooden roof.

These high dead walls were, in Roman work, built of stone; but in the wooden work of the North, they must necessarily have been made of horizontal boards or timbers attached to uprights on the top of the nave pillars, which were themselves also of wood. [Footnote: Appendix 9, "Wooden Churches of the North."] Now, these uprights were necessarily thicker than the rest of the timbers, and formed vertical square pilasters above the nave piers. As Christianity extended and civilization increased, these wooden structures were changed into stone; but they were literally petrified, retaining the form which had been made necessary by their being of wood. The upright pilaster above the nave pier remains in the stone edifice, and is the first form of the great distinctive feature of Northern architecture—the vaulting shaft. In that form the Lombards brought it into Italy, in the seventh century, and it remains to this day in St. Ambrogio of Milan, and St. Michele of Pavia.

SECTION XXVIII. When the vaulting shaft was introduced in the clerestory walls, additional members were added for its support to the nave piers. Perhaps two or three pine trunks, used for a single pillar, gave the first idea of the grouped shaft. Be that as it may, the arrangement of the nave pier in the form of a cross accompanies the superimposition of the vaulting shaft; together with corresponding grouping of minor shafts in doorways and apertures of windows. Thus, the whole body of the Northern architecture, represented by that of the Lombards, may be described as rough but majestic work, round-arched, with grouped shafts, added vaulting shafts, and endless imagery of active life and fantastic superstitions.

SECTION XXIX. The glacier stream of the Lombards, and the following one of the Normans, left their erratic blocks, wherever they had flowed; but without influencing, I think, the Southern nations beyond the sphere of their own presence. But the lava stream of the Arab, even after it ceased to flow, warmed the whole of the Northern air; and the history of Gothic architecture is the history of the refinement and spiritualization of Northern work under its influence. The noblest buildings of the world, the Pisan-Romanesque, Tuscan (Giottesque) Gothic, and Veronese Gothic, are those of the Lombard schools themselves, under its close and direct influence; the various Gothics of the North are the original forms of the architecture which the Lombards brought into Italy, changing under the less direct influence of the Arab.

SECTION XXX. Understanding thus much of the formation of the great European styles, we shall have no difficulty in tracing the succession of architectures in Venice herself. From what I said of the central character of Venetian art, the reader is not, of course, to conclude that the Roman, Northern, and Arabian elements met together and contended for the mastery at the same period. The earliest element was the pure Christian Roman; but few, if any, remains of this art exist at Venice; for the present city was in the earliest times only one of many settlements formed on the chain of marshy islands which extend from the mouths of the Isonzo to those of the Adige, and it was not until the beginning of the ninth century that it became the seat of government; while the cathedral of Torcello, though Christian Roman in general form, was rebuilt in the eleventh century, and shows evidence of Byzantine workmanship in many of its details. This cathedral, however, with the church of Santa Fosca at Torcello, San Giacomo di Rialto at Venice, and the crypt of St. Mark's, forms a distinct group of buildings, in which the Byzantine influence is exceedingly slight; and which is probably very sufficiently representative of the earliest architecture on the islands.

SECTION XXXI. The Ducal residence was removed to Venice in 809, and the body of St. Mark was brought from Alexandria twenty years later. The first church of St. Mark's was, doubtless, built in imitation of that destroyed at Alexandria, and from which the relics of the saint had been obtained. During the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries, the architecture of Venice seems to have been formed on the same model, and is almost identical with that of Cairo under the caliphs, [Footnote: Appendix 10, "Church of Alexandria."] it being quite immaterial whether the reader chooses to call both Byzantine or both Arabic; the workmen being certainly Byzantine, but forced to the invention of new forms by their Arabian masters, and bringing these forms into use in whatever other parts of the world they were employed.

To this first manner of Venetian architecture, together with such vestiges as remain of the Christian Roman, I shall devote the first division of the following inquiry. The examples remaining of it consist of three noble churches (those of Torcello, Murano, and the greater part of St. Mark's), and about ten or twelve fragments of palaces.

SECTION XXXII. To this style succeeds a transitional one, of a character much more distinctly Arabian: the shafts become more slender, and the arches consistently pointed, instead of round; certain other changes, not to be enumerated in a sentence, taking place in the capitals and mouldings. This style is almost exclusively secular. It was natural for the Venetians to imitate the beautiful details of the Arabian dwelling-house, while they would with reluctance adopt those of the mosque for Christian churches.

I have not succeeded in fixing limiting dates for this style. It appears in part contemporary with the Byzantine manner, but outlives it. Its position is, however, fixed by the central date, 1180, that of the elevation of the granite shafts of the Piazetta, whose capitals are the two most important pieces of detail in this transitional style in Venice. Examples of its application to domestic buildings exist in almost every street of the city, and will form the subject of the second division of the following essay.

SECTION XXXIII. The Venetians were always ready to receive lessons in art from their enemies (else had there been no Arab work in Venice). But their especial dread and hatred of the Lombards appears to have long prevented them from receiving the influence of the art which that people had introduced on the mainland of Italy. Nevertheless, during the practice of the two styles above distinguished, a peculiar and very primitive condition of pointed Gothic had arisen in ecclesiastical architecture. It appears to be a feeble reflection of the Lombard-Arab forms, which were attaining perfection upon the continent, and would probably, if left to itself, have been soon merged in the Venetian-Arab school, with which it had from the first so close a fellowship, that it will be found difficult to distinguish the Arabian ogives from those which seem to have been built under this early Gothic influence. The churches of San Giacopo dell' Orio, San Giovanni in Bragora, the Carmine, and one or two more, furnish the only important examples of it. But, in the thirteenth century, the Franciscans and Dominicans introduced from the continent their morality and their architecture, already a distinct Gothic, curiously developed from Lombardic and Northern (German?) forms; and the influence of the principles exhibited in the vast churches of St. Paul and the Frari began rapidly to affect the Venetian-Arab school. Still the two systems never became united; the Venetian policy repressed the power of the church, and the Venetian artists resisted its example; and thenceforward the architecture of the city becomes divided into ecclesiastical and civil: the one an ungraceful yet powerful form of the Western Gothic, common to the whole peninsula, and only showing Venetian sympathies in the adoption of certain characteristic mouldings; the other a rich, luxuriant, and entirely original Gothic, formed from the Venetian-Arab by the influence of the Dominican and Franciscan architecture, and especially by the engrafting upon the Arab forms of the most novel feature of the Franciscan work, its traceries. These various forms of Gothic, the distinctive architecture of Venice, chiefly represented by the churches of St. John and Paul, the Frari, and San Stefano, on the ecclesiastical side, and by the Ducal palace, and the other principal Gothic palaces, on the secular side, will be the subject of the third division of the essay.

SECTION XXXIV. Now observe. The transitional (or especially Arabic) style of the Venetian work is centralized by the date 1180, and is transformed gradually into the Gothic, which extends in its purity from the middle of the thirteenth to the beginning of the fifteenth century; that is to say, over the precise period which I have described as the central epoch of the life of Venice. I dated her decline from the year 1418; Foscari became doge five years later, and in his reign the first marked signs appear in architecture of that mighty change which Philippe de Commynes notices as above, the change to which London owes St. Paul's, Rome St. Peter's, Venice and Vicenza the edifices commonly supposed to be their noblest, and Europe in general the degradation of every art she has since practised.

SECTION XXXV. This change appears first in a loss of truth and vitality in existing architecture all over the world. (Compare "Seven Lamps," chap. ii.)

All the Gothics in existence, southern or northern, were corrupted at once: the German and French lost themselves in every species of extravagance; the English Gothic was confined, in its insanity, by a strait-waistcoat of perpendicular lines; the Italian effloresced on the main land into the meaningless ornamentation of the Certosa of Pavia and the Cathedral of Como, (a style sometimes ignorantly called Italian Gothic), and at Venice into the insipid confusion of the Porta della Carta and wild crockets of St. Mark's. This corruption of all architecture, especially ecclesiastical, corresponded with, and marked the state of religion over all Europe,—the peculiar degradation of the Romanist superstition, and of public morality in consequence, which brought about the Reformation.

SECTION XXXVI. Against the corrupted papacy arose two great divisions of adversaries, Protestants in Germany and England, Rationalists in France and Italy; the one requiring the purification of religion, the other its destruction. The Protestant kept the religion, but cast aside the heresies of Rome, and with them her arts, by which last rejection he injured his own character, cramped his intellect in refusing to it one of its noblest exercises, and materially diminished his influence. It may be a serious question how far the Pausing of the Reformation has been a consequence of this error.

The Rationalist kept the arts and cast aside the religion. This rationalistic art is the art commonly called Renaissance, marked by a return to pagan systems, not to adopt them and hallow them for Christianity, but to rank itself under them as an imitator and pupil. In Painting it is headed by Giulio Romano and Nicolo Poussin; in Architecture by Sansovino and Palladio.

SECTION XXXVII. Instant degradation followed in every direction,—a flood of folly and hypocrisy. Mythologies ill understood at first, then perverted into feeble sensualities, take the place of the representations of Christian subjects, which had become blasphemous under the treatment of men like the Caracci. Gods without power, satyrs without rusticity, nymphs without innocence, men without humanity, gather into idiot groups upon the polluted canvas, and scenic affectations encumber the streets with preposterous marble. Lower and lower declines the level of abused intellect; the base school of landscape [Footnote: Appendix II, "Renaissance Landscape."] gradually usurps the place of the historical painting, which had sunk into prurient pedantry,—the Alsatian sublimities of Salvator, the confectionery idealities of Claude, the dull manufacture of Gaspar and Canaletto, south of the Alps, and on the north the patient devotion of besotted lives to delineation of bricks and fogs, fat cattle and ditchwater. And thus Christianity and morality, courage, and intellect, and art all crumbling together into one wreck, we are hurried on to the fall of Italy, the revolution in France, and the condition of art in England (saved by her Protestantism from severer penalty) in the time of George II.

SECTION XXXVIII. I have not written in vain if I have heretofore done anything towards diminishing the reputation of the Renaissance landscape painting. But the harm which has been done by Claude and the Poussins is as nothing when compared to the mischief effected by Palladio, Scamozzi, and Sansovino. Claude and the Poussins were weak men, and have had no serious influence on the general mind. There is little harm in their works being purchased at high prices: their real influence is very slight, and they may be left without grave indignation to their poor mission of furnishing drawing-rooms and assisting stranded conversation. Not so the Renaissance architecture. Raised at once into all the magnificence of which it was capable by Michael Angelo, then taken up by men of real intellect and imagination, such as Scamozzi, Sansovino, Inigo Jones, and Wren, it is impossible to estimate the extent of its influence on the European mind; and that the more, because few persons are concerned with painting, and, of those few, the larger number regard it with slight attention; but all men are concerned with architecture, and have at some time of their lives serious business with it. It does not much matter that an individual loses two or three hundred pounds in buying a bad picture, but it is to be regretted that a nation should lose two or three hundred thousand in raising a ridiculous building. Nor is it merely wasted wealth or distempered conception which we have to regret in this Renaissance architecture: but we shall find in it partly the root, partly the expression, of certain dominant evils of modern times—over-sophistication and ignorant classicalism; the one destroying the healthfulness of general society, the other rendering our schools and universities useless to a large number of the men who pass through them.

Now Venice, as she was once the most religious, was in her fall the most corrupt, of European states; and as she was in her strength the centre of the pure currents of Christian architecture, so she is in her decline the source of the Renaissance. It was the originality and splendor of the palaces of Vicenza and Venice which gave this school its eminence in the eyes of Europe; and the dying city, magnificent in her dissipation, and graceful in her follies, obtained wider worship in her decrepitude than in her youth, and sank from the midst of her admirers into the grave.

SECTION XXXIX. It is in Venice, therefore, and in Venice only that effectual blows can be struck at this pestilent art of the Renaissance. Destroy its claims to admiration there, and it can assert them nowhere else. This, therefore, will be the final purpose of the following essay. I shall not devote a fourth section to Palladio, nor weary the reader with successive chapters of vituperation; but I shall, in my account of the earlier architecture, compare the forms of all its leading features with those into which they were corrupted by the Classicalists; and pause, in the close, on the edge of the precipice of decline, so soon as I have made its depths discernible. In doing this I shall depend upon two distinct kinds of evidence:—the first, the testimony borne by particular incidents and facts to a want of thought or of feeling in the builders; from which we may conclude that their architecture must be bad:—the second, the sense, which I doubt not I shall be able to excite in the reader, of a systematic ugliness in the architecture itself. Of the first kind of testimony I shall here give two instances, which may be immediately useful in fixing in the reader's mind the epoch above indicated for the commencement of decline.

SECTION XL. I must again refer to the importance which I have above attached to the death of Carlo Zeno and the doge Tomaso Mocenigo. The tomb of that doge is, as I said, wrought by a Florentine; but it is of the same general type and feeling as all the Venetian tombs of the period, and it is one of the last which retains it. The classical element enters largely into its details, but the feeling of the whole is as yet unaffected. Like all the lovely tombs of Venice and Verona, it is a sarcophagus with a recumbent figure above, and this figure is a faithful but tender portrait, wrought as far as it can be without painfulness, of the doge as he lay in death. He wears his ducal robe and bonnet—his head is laid slightly aside upon his pillow—his hands are simply crossed as they fall. The face is emaciated, the features large, but so pure and lordly in their natural chiselling, that they must have looked like marble even in their animation. They are deeply worn away by thought and death; the veins on the temples branched and starting; the skin gathered in sharp folds; the brow high-arched and shaggy; the eye-ball magnificently large; the curve of the lips just veiled by the light mustache at the side; the beard short, double, and sharp-pointed: all noble and quiet; the white sepulchral dust marking like light the stern angles of the cheek and brow.

This tomb was sculptured in 1424, and is thus described by one of the most intelligent of the recent writers who represent the popular feeling respecting Venetian art.

It is well, indeed, not to pause over these defects; but it might have been better to have paused a moment beside that noble image of a king's mortality.

SECTION XLI. In the choir of the same church, St. Giov. and Paolo, is another tomb, that of the Doge Andrea Vendramin. This doge died in 1478, after a short reign of two years, the most disastrous in the annals of Venice. He died of a pestilence which followed the ravage of the Turks, carried to the shores of the lagoons. He died, leaving Venice disgraced by sea and land, with the smoke of hostile devastation rising in the blue distances of Friuli; and there was raised to him the most costly tomb ever bestowed on her monarchs.

SECTION XLII. If the writer above quoted was cold beside the statue of one of the fathers of his country, he atones for it by his eloquence beside the tomb of the Vendramin. I must not spoil the force of Italian superlative by translation.

There are two pages and a half of closely printed praise, of which the above specimens may suffice; but there is not a word of the statue of the dead from beginning to end. I am myself in the habit of considering this rather an important part of a tomb, and I was especially interested in it here, because Selvatico only echoes the praise of thousands. It is unanimously declared the chef d'oeuvre of Renaissance sepulchral work, and pronounced by Cicognara (also quoted by Selvatico).

To this culminating point, therefore, covered with dust and cobwebs, I attained, as I did to every tomb of importance in Venice, by the ministry of such ancient ladders as were to be found in the sacristan's keeping. I was struck at first by the excessive awkwardness and want of feeling in the fall of the hand towards the spectator, for it is thrown off the middle of the body in order to show its fine cutting. Now the Mocenigo hand, severe and even stiff in its articulations, has its veins finely drawn, its sculptor having justly felt that the delicacy of the veining expresses alike dignity and age and birth. The Vendramin hand is far more laboriously cut, but its blunt and clumsy contour at once makes us feel that all the care has been thrown away, and well it may be, for it has been entirely bestowed in cutting gouty wrinkles about the joints. Such as the hand is, I looked for its fellow. At first I thought it had been broken off, but, on clearing away the dust, I saw the wretched effigy had only one hand, and was a mere block on the inner side. The face, heavy and disagreeable in its features, is made monstrous by its semi-sculpture. One side of the forehead is wrinkled elaborately, the other left smooth; one side only of the doge's cap is chased; one cheek only is finished, and the other blocked out and distorted besides; finally, the ermine robe, which is elaborately imitated to its utmost lock of hair and of ground hair on the one side, is blocked out only on the other: it having been supposed throughout the work that the effigy was only to be seen from below, and from one side.

SECTION XLIII. It was indeed to be seen by nearly every one; and I do not blame—I should, on the contrary, have praised—the sculptor for regulating his treatment of it by its position; if that treatment had not involved, first, dishonesty, in giving only half a face, a monstrous mask, when we demanded true portraiture of the dead; and, secondly, such utter coldness of feeling, as could only consist with an extreme of intellectual and moral degradation: Who, with a heart in his breast, could have stayed his hand as he drew the dim lines of the old man's countenance—unmajestic once, indeed, but at least sanctified by the solemnities of death—could have stayed his hand, as he reached the bend of the grey forehead, and measured out the last veins of it at so much the zecchin.

I do not think the reader, if he has feeling, will expect that much talent should be shown in the rest of his work, by the sculptor of this base and senseless lie. The whole monument is one wearisome aggregation of that species of ornamental flourish, which, when it is done with a pen, is called penmanship, and when done with a chisel, should be called chiselmanship; the subject of it being chiefly fat-limbed boys sprawling on dolphins, dolphins incapable of swimming, and dragged along the sea by expanded pocket-handkerchiefs.

But now, reader, comes the very gist and point of the whole matter. This lying monument to a dishonored doge, this culminating pride of the Renaissance art of Venice, is at least veracious, if in nothing else, in its testimony to the character of its sculptor. He was banished from Venice for forgery in 1487. [Footnote: Selvatico, p. 221.]

SECTION XLIV. I have more to say about this convict's work hereafter; but I pass at present, to the second, slighter, but yet more interesting piece of evidence, which I promised.

The ducal palace has two principal faÇades; one towards the sea, the other towards the Piazzetta. The seaward side, and, as far as the seventh main arch inclusive, the Piazzetta side, is work of the early part of the fourteenth century, some of it perhaps even earlier; while the rest of the Piazzetta side is of the fifteenth. The difference in age has been gravely disputed by the Venetian antiquaries, who have examined many documents on the subject, and quoted some which they never examined. I have myself collated most of the written documents, and one document more, to which the Venetian antiquaries never thought of referring,—the masonry of the palace itself.

SECTION XLV. That masonry changes at the centre of the eighth arch from the sea angle on the Piazzetta side. It has been of comparatively small stones up to that point; the fifteenth century work instantly begins with larger stones, "brought from Istria, a hundred miles away." [Footnote: The older work is of Istrian stone also, but of different quality.] The ninth shaft from the sea in the lower arcade, and the seventeenth, which is above it, in the upper arcade, commence the series of fifteenth century shafts. These two are somewhat thicker than the others, and carry the party-wall of the Sala del Scrutinio. Now observe, reader. The face of the palace, from this point to the Porta della Carta, was built at the instance of that noble Doge Mocenigo beside whose tomb you have been standing; at his instance, and in the beginning of the reign of his successor, Foscari; that is to say, circa 1424. This is not disputed; it is only disputed that the sea faÇade is earlier; of which, however, the proofs are as simple as they are incontrovertible: for not only the masonry, but the sculpture, changes at the ninth lower shaft, and that in the capitals of the shafts both of the upper and lower arcade: the costumes of the figures introduced in the sea faÇade being purely Giottesque, correspondent with Giotto's work in the Arena Chapel at Padua, while the costume on the other capitals is Renaissance-Classic: and the lions' heads between the arches change at the same point. And there are a multitude of other evidences in the statues of the angels, with which I shall not at present trouble the reader.

SECTION XLVI. Now, the architect who built under Foscari, in 1424 (remember my date for the decline of Venice, 1418), was obliged to follow the principal forms of the older palace. But he had not the wit to invent new capitals in the same style; he therefore clumsily copied the old ones. The palace has seventeen main arches on the sea faÇade, eighteen on the Piazzetta side, which in all are of course carried by thirty-six pillars; and these pillars I shall always number from right to left, from the angle of the palace at the Ponte della Paglia to that next the Porta della Carta. I number them in this succession, because I thus have the earliest shafts first numbered. So counted, the 1st, the 18th, and the 36th, are the great supports of the angles of the palace; and the first of the fifteenth century series, being, as above stated, the 9th from the sea on the Piazzetta side, is the 26th of the entire series, and will always in future be so numbered, so that all numbers above twenty-six indicate fifteenth century work, and all below it, fourteenth century, with some exceptional cases of restoration.

Then the copied capitals are: the 28th, copied from the 7th; the 29th, from the 9th; the 30th, from the 10th; the 31st, from the 8th; the 33d, from the 12th; and the 34th, from the 11th; the others being dull inventions of the 15th century, except the 36th; which is very nobly designed.

SECTION XLVII. The capitals thus selected from the earlier portion of the palace for imitation, together with the rest, will be accurately described hereafter; the point I have here to notice is in the copy of the ninth capital, which was decorated (being, like the rest, octagonal) with figures of the eight Virtues:—Faith, Hope, Charity, Justice, Temperance, Prudence, Humility (the Venetian antiquaries call it Humanity!), and Fortitude. The Virtues of the fourteenth century are somewhat hard-featured; with vivid and living expression, and plain every-day clothes of the time. Charity has her lap full of apples (perhaps loaves), and is giving one to a little child, who stretches his arm for it across a gap in the leafage of the capital. Fortitude tears open a lion's jaws; Faith lays her hand on her breast, as she beholds the Cross; and Hope is praying, while above her a hand is seen emerging from sunbeams—the hand of God (according to that of Revelations, "The Lord God giveth them light"); and the inscription above is, "Spes optima in Deo."

SECTION XLVIII. This design, then, is, rudely and with imperfect chiselling, imitated by the fifteenth century workmen: the Virtues have lost their hard features and living expression; they have now all got Roman noses, and have had their hair curled. Their actions and emblems are, however, preserved until we come to Hope: she is still praying, but she is praying to the sun only: The hand of God is gone.

Is not this a curious and striking type of the spirit which had then become dominant in the world, forgetting to see God's hand in the light He gave; so that in the issue, when the light opened into the Reformation on the one side, and into full knowledge of ancient literature on the other, the one was arrested and the other perverted?

SECTION XLIX. Such is the nature of the accidental evidence on which I shall depend for the proof of the inferiority of character in the Renaissance workmen. But the proof of the inferiority of the work itself is not so easy, for in this I have to appeal to judgments which the Renaissance work has itself distorted. I felt this difficulty very forcibly as I read a slight review of my former work, "The Seven Lamps," in "The Architect:" the writer noticed my constant praise of St. Mark's: "Mr. Ruskin thinks it a very beautiful building! We," said the Architect, "think it a very ugly building." I was not surprised at the difference of opinion, but at the thing being considered so completely a subject of opinion. My opponents in matters of painting always assume that there is such a thing as a law of right, and that I do not understand it: but my architectural adversaries appeal to no law, they simply set their opinion against mine; and indeed there is no law at present to which either they or I can appeal. No man can speak with rational decision of the merits or demerits of buildings: he may with obstinacy; he may with resolved adherence to previous prejudices; but never as if the matter could be otherwise decided than by a majority of votes, or pertinacity of partisanship. I had always, however, a clear conviction that there was a law in this matter: that good architecture might be indisputably discerned and divided from the bad; that the opposition in their very nature and essence was clearly visible; and that we were all of us just as unwise in disputing about the matter without reference to principle, as we should be for debating about the genuineness of a coin, without ringing it. I felt also assured that this law must be universal if it were conclusive; that it must enable us to reject all foolish and base work, and to accept all noble and wise work, without reference to style or national feeling; that it must sanction the design of all truly great nations and times, Gothic or Greek or Arab; that it must cast off and reprobate the design of all foolish nations and times, Chinese or Mexican, or modern European: and that it must be easily applicable to all possible architectural inventions of human mind. I set myself, therefore, to establish such a law, in full belief that men are intended, without excessive difficulty, and by use of their general common sense, to know good things from bad; and that it is only because they will not be at the pains required for the discernment, that the world is so widely encumbered with forgeries and basenesses. I found the work simpler than I had hoped; the reasonable things ranged themselves in the order I required, and the foolish things fell aside, and took themselves away so soon as they were looked in the face. I had then, with respect to Venetian architecture, the choice, either to establish each division of law in a separate form, as I came to the features with which it was concerned, or else to ask the reader's patience, while I followed out the general inquiry first, and determined with him a code of right and wrong, to which we might together make retrospective appeal. I thought this the best, though perhaps the dullest way; and in these first following pages I have therefore endeavored to arrange those foundations of criticism, on which I shall rest in my account of Venetian architecture, in a form clear and simple enough to be intelligible even to those who never thought of architecture before. To those who have, much of what is stated in them will be well known or self-evident; but they must not be indignant at a simplicity on which the whole argument depends for its usefulness. From that which appears a mere truism when first stated, they will find very singular consequences sometimes following,—consequences altogether unexpected, and of considerable importance; I will not pause here to dwell on their importance, nor on that of the thing itself to be done; for I believe most readers will at once admit the value of a criterion of right and wrong in so practical and costly an art as architecture, and will be apt rather to doubt the possibility of its attainment than dispute its usefulness if attained. I invite them, therefore, to a fair trial, being certain that even if I should fail in my main purpose, and be unable to induce in my reader the confidence of judgment I desire, I shall at least receive his thanks for the suggestion of consistent reasons, which may determine hesitating choice, or justify involuntary preference. And if I should succeed, as I hope, in making the Stones of Venice touchstones, and detecting, by the mouldering of her marble, poison more subtle than ever was betrayed by the rending of her crystal; and if thus I am enabled to show the baseness of the schools of architecture and nearly every other art, which have for three centuries been predominant in Europe, I believe the result of the inquiry may be serviceable for proof of a more vital truth than any at which I have hitherto hinted. For observe: I said the Protestant had despised the arts, and the Rationalist corrupted them. But what has the Romanist done meanwhile? He boasts that it was the papacy which raised the arts; why could it not support them when it was left to its own strength? How came it to yield to Classicalism which was based on infidelity, and to oppose no barrier to innovations, which have reduced the once faithfully conceived imagery of its worship to stage decoration? [Footnote: Appendix XII., "Romanist Modern Art."] Shall we not rather find that Romanism, instead of being a promoter of the arts, has never shown itself capable of a single great conception since the separation of Protestantism from its side? [Footnote: Perfectly true: but the whole vital value of the truth was lost by my sectarian ignorance. Protestantism (so far as it was still Christianity, and did not consist merely in maintaining one's own opinion for gospel) could not separate itself from the Catholic Church. The so-called Catholics became themselves sectarians and heretics in casting them out; and Europe was turned into a mere cockpit, of the theft and fury of unchristian men of both parties; while innocent and silent on the hills and fields, God's people in neglected peace, everywhere and for ever Catholics, lived and died.] So long as, corrupt though it might be, no clear witness had been borne against it, so that it still included in its ranks a vast number of faithful Christians, so long its arts were noble. But the witness was borne—the error made apparent; and Rome, refusing to hear the testimony or forsake the falsehood, has been struck from that instant with an intellectual palsy, which has not only incapacitated her from any further use of the arts which once were her ministers, but has made her worship the shame of its own shrines, and her worshippers their destroyers. Come, then, if truths such as these are worth our thoughts; come, and let us know, before we enter the streets of the Sea city, whether we are indeed to submit ourselves to their undistinguished enchantment, and to look upon the last changes which were wrought on the lifted forms of her palaces, as we should on the capricious towering of summer clouds in the sunset, ere they sank into the deep of night; or, whether, rather, we shall not behold in the brightness of their accumulated marble, pages on which the sentence of her luxury was to be written until the waves should efface it, as they fulfilled—"God has numbered thy kingdom, and finished it."

---

bt they may regain public favour. The triumph of Boulangism would be the signal for horrible anarchy at home and war abroad, provoked by the madmen who had climbed into power.

Monarchy, in the person of the Comte de Paris, is losing rather than gaining ground here. If France should ever return to a dynasty, it would be more likely to be the Bonapartes. The terrible name of Napoleon has still an immense prestige, however unworthy his successors.

M. St.-Hilaire's visit did not come off. The Journal mentions many dinners, receptions, and garden parties in town during June and July, and eleven days in August on board Mrs. Watney's yacht 'Palatine,' to see the naval review on the 5th. 'Very rough weather all the time.' In September a journey to Edinburgh and on the 14th to Chesters, chronicled as 'my first visit to my daughter.' A week later Reeve returned south; and, paying a few short visits on the way, including a day at Knowsley, was back at Foxholes by the 26th.

From Count Vitzthum

Villa Vitzthum, Baden Baden, August 30th.

My dear Mr. Reeve,—I beg to send you the proofs of the preface and contents, in order to show you the plan of my book.

I am very sorry that you do not approve of the account I have given of our interview in September 1866. It was unfortunately too late to cancel the letter, but nothing would prevent leaving it out if those memoirs should ever be translated. On further consideration, and after reading the foregoing pages, you will find, I am sure, that your comment on the situation in September 1866 was not only correct, but very valuable. The peace of Europe then was threatened by two eventualities, of which one happened: by an ostensible alliance between Prussia and France, or by an immediate war between both. Rouher and Lavalette worked very hard for the alliance, and your sound judgement indicated the consequences which such an alliance would have had. I quite agree with you about these relations. But the opinion of a man like you is a fact, and an important fact; because you have been in those days what they call a representative man; because you represented a great portion of the Liberal party. It does not take one iota off the value of your opinion—which, you may depend upon it, was correctly recorded—if the course of events took another turn, and if this monster alliance remained a dream of adventurous French politicians. The thing was on the cards.

As for Napoleon's malady, all I can say [is] that Nelaton, who then was consulted for the first time, wrote a letter to King Leopold of Belgium, stating that it was very probable the Emperor of the French would be found any morning dead in his bed, and that he would most likely die before the end of November. Very truly yours,

VITZTHUM.

In consequence of this letter Mr. Reeve wrote to Mr. T. Norton Longman:—

Foxholes, September 3rd.—Count Vitzthum is about to publish two more volumes of his political reminiscences during his mission in London. I send you the index of the work, from which you will see that it contains a good deal of matter, anecdotes, &c., of interest to English readers. You will judge from the result of the former work whether you think it worth while to engage in the publication of a translation of these later volumes. But, as I am going away till the end of the month, I cannot negotiate with Count Vitzthum or with the translator, and I must beg you to take that upon yourself.

A month later, however, on October 2nd, he wrote that, after seeing the book, he was of opinion that it would not stand translation. It was reviewed in the 'Edinburgh' of January 1890, but was not translated.

From Lord Derby

November 11th.—I have only begun the Life of Lord John. It would be a very difficult one to write in a spirit at once of fairness and friendship. My impression of the man was and is that he was more thoroughly and essentially a partisan than anyone I have known; and sometimes open to the comment, that he seemed to consider the Universe as existing for the sake of the Whig party. Perhaps this would not strike anyone who was trained up in the same school, as strongly as it did me. On the other hand, I think he was more generally consistent, and had fewer of his own words to eat, than any politician of his time or of ours. His religious politics were his weak part; they were rather narrow and sectarian. I suppose he was forced by the Court into his quarrel with Palmerston; which was the trouble of his later official life, and caused these uneasy struggles to recover a lost position which did him harm. But with all drawbacks he has left an honoured and distinguished name. Do you think there is any ground for the idea which Lady Russell puts about that, if he had lived till now, he would have gone for Home Rule?

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