The Life of the Rt. Hon. Sir Charles W. Dilke is a Webnovel created by Stephen Lucius Gwynn.
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“Your affectionate father,
“C. W. D.”
After the May term came Henley Regatta, and Trinity Hall was again entered for the Grand Challenge. Many of the friends, Shee amongst them, had taken up their quarters there, along with the oarsmen; and Warr, who was not at Henley, wrote pressing a prompt return to Cambridge for the Long Vacation term. As the Henley week progressed [Footnote: Dilke rowed again both for the Grand Challenge and the Ladies’ Plate. In each Trinity Hall met the ultimate winner in the trial heat, and were defeated by Kingston and by Eton, but beat London and Radley.] Mr. Dilke writes:
“My movements may be absolutely regulated by your wishes or convenience. If you desire to pay a visit to the Holt, I have there the chance of a quicker recovery, if I am to go on well; whereas if there be more inducements to visit London, why here I have the benefit of the doctors should I not make progress. The pleasure and the advantages being _equal_ to me, you have only to decide. Let me know your decision by return of post.”
Charles Dilke decided for London, and there spent three or four days in the company of his family, and, above all, of his grandfather. Then he went back to Cambridge, and lived the life of strenuous, healthy young men in the summer weather; getting up at five o’clock in the mornings, bathing, reading long hours, walking long walks, talking the long talks of youth. The correspondence with his grandfather centred chiefly now on the subject for the next year’s essay compet.i.tion, which had been announced at the close of the May term, and which, as Charles Dilke said, “seems to be rather in my line.”
It was Pope’s couplet:
“For forms of government let fools contest, Whatever is best administered is best.”
It was no less in old Mr. Dilke’s line than in his grandson’s. He wrote on July 14th from Alice Holt a page of admirable criticism on the scheme as outlined by his grandson, and concludes in his habitual tone of affectionate self-depreciation:
“This is another of my old prosings–another proof that love and good will and good wishes remain when power to serve is gone….”
With the precocious maturity of Charles Dilke’s intellect had gone a slowness of development in other directions. It is true that those Cambridge men who remember him as an undergraduate remember him as serious, but full of high animal spirits and sense of fun; while everyone speaks of his charm and gaiety. “We were all in love with him,” says one vivacious old lady, who belonged to the circle of connections and relatives that frequented 76, Sloane Street. But the letters of his early days at Cambridge hardly show that ‘happiness of manner’ which his grandfather attributed to him. Only now does the whole personality begin to emerge, as in a letter of 1864, in which he begs his grandfather, because “writing is irksome to you,” to send two very short letters rather than one longer one; “for the receipt of a letter gives me an excuse to write again, while on the other hand I can by habit catch your meaning by the first words of your shortest criticisms.”
The rest of the sheet was occupied by very able a.n.a.lysis of an article which had been published in the _Athenaeum_–criticism mature and manly both in thought and expression. The change did not escape the shrewd observer. Mr. Dilke replied:
“ALICE HOLT, “BY FARNHAM, SURREY, “_July 28th_, 1864.
“MY VERY DEAR GRANDSON,
“Your letters give me very great pleasure, not because they are kind and considerate, of which I had evidence enough long since, not because they flatter the vanity of the old man by asking his opinion, which few now regard, but because I see in them a gradual development of your own mind.”
He added a few words in praise of the a.n.a.lysis, but pointed out that the reviewer, whom Charles Dilke censured, was treating a well-worn subject– Bentham’s Philosophy–and therefore needed to aim at freshness of view rather than thoroughness of exposition. He added:
“I, however, am delighted with the Article, which is full of promise of a coming man by which the old journal may benefit.”
Save for a final “G.o.d bless you!” from “as ever, your affectionate Grand.,” that was the last word written by Mr. Dilke to his grandson.
Within a week he was struck down by what proved to be his fatal illness.
Early on August 8th Charles Dilke wrote to his father that he was deterred from coming home only by the fear lest his sudden arrival might “frighten grandfather about himself and make him worse.” A few hours later he was summoned. The rest may be given in his own words:
‘_August 8th, Monday_.–I received a telegram from my father at noon: “You had better come here.” I left by the 1.30 train, and reached Alice Holt at half-past six. My Father met me on the lawn: he was crying bitterly, and said, “He lives only to see you.” I went upstairs and sat down by the sofa, on which lay the Grand., looking haggard, but still a n.o.ble wreck. I took his hand, and he began to talk of very trivial matters–of Cambridge everyday life–his favourite theme of old. He seemed to be testing his strength, for at last he said: “I shall be able to talk to-morrow; I may last some weeks; but were it not for the pang that all of you would feel, I should prefer that it should end at once. I have had a good time of it.”
‘He had been saying all that morning: “Is that a carriage I hear?” or “I shall live to see him.”
‘_Tuesday_.–When I went in to him, he sent away the others, and told me to look for an envelope and a key. I failed to find it, and fetched Morris, who after a careful search found the key, but no envelope. We had both pa.s.sed over my last letter (August 6th), which lay on the table. He made us both leave the room, but recalled me directly, and when I entered had banknotes in his hand, which he must have taken from the envelope of my letter. (This involved rising.) He said: “I cannot live, I fear, to your birthday–I want to make you a present–I think I have heard you say that you should like a stop-watch–I have made careful inquiries as to the price–and have saved–as I believe– sufficient.” He then gave me notes, and the key of a desk in London, in the secret drawer of which I should find the remaining money. He then gave me the disposition of his papers and ma.n.u.scripts, directing that what I did not want should go to the British Museum. He then said: “I have nothing more to say but that you have fulfilled–my every hope–beyond all measure–and–I am deeply–grateful.”
‘He died in my presence on Wednesday, 10th, at half-past one, in perfect peace.’
[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. C. W. DILKE.
From the painting by Arthur Hughes ]
CHAPTER V
LAST TERMS AT THE UNIVERSITY
After his grandfather’s death Charles Dilke went away alone on a walking tour in Devon. The death of his grandfather was hardly realized at first; ‘the sense of loss’ deepened: ‘it has been greater with me every year that followed.’ He corresponded with his college friends, and of this date is a letter of remonstrance at his overstudious habits from the sententious H.
D. Warr:
“My dear Dilke will forgive me if I say that, though I honour him much for his many strong and good qualities, I think he is far too given to laborious processes in work and social life…. My warm regard for you rests to some extent on my very high appreciation of your strength and consistency of character: you have always appeared to me to be a supremely honest man, almost comically so, at least when I am in a profane humour: I do not know that anything you could do would possibly make me like you better. But I think if you gave yourself a little wider fling and liberty, and did not walk always as it were on the seam of the carpet, it would be better; there would be less to lean on in you, perhaps, but if possible more to love.”
Charles Dilke used to say that Fawcett and Warr had between them cured him of that priggishness which he often recalled with amus.e.m.e.nt. Almost inevitably his grandfather’s devotion, the absolute engrossment of so considerable a personality in his least important concerns, would emphasize the inclination to take himself over-seriously which is marked in every clever and resolute young man.
In the beginning of 1865 he won the college essay prize for the second time. A pile of dockets from the British Museum shows that, as soon as coming of age qualified him to be a reader there, he plunged deep into all the works on ideal commonwealths to complete his survey of ‘forms of government’–the subject indicated by Pope’s couplet, which had appealed so strongly both to his grandfather and himself. This was a side issue.
Beading for his Tripos went on with unremitting energy, and he had in use ninety-four notebooks crammed with a.n.a.lyses. In June, 1865, he was announced Senior Legalist, easily at the head of the law students of his year, thus crowning his college successes by the highest University distinction open to a man who followed that course.
A month before he entered for the Tripos, he had stroked the college boat, which was head of the river. Trinity Hall, however, retained its pride of place only for one day, and it was no small achievement to accomplish even this, since Third Trinity, who b.u.mped them on the second night, were a wonderful crew, with five University oars, ‘including some of the most distinguished Eton oars that ever rowed.’ [Footnote: The Memoir details them: ‘Chambers, the winner of the pairs, sculls, and “walk,” President of the University Boat Club, and afterwards Secretary of the Amateur Athletic Club; Kinglake, afterwards President of the University Boat Club; W. E.
Griffith, afterwards President of the University Boat Club, and formerly stroke of the finest Eton eight ever seen; Selwyn, afterwards Bishop of Melanesia, stroke of the University eight; and C. B. Lawes, afterwards the well-known sculptor, who had been captain of the Boats at Eton, and who had won the Diamond Sculls and the amateur championship of the Thames, and had rowed stroke of the University crew the year after Selwyn.’] The Hall had only one ‘blue,’ Steavenson, but to Charles Dilke himself had been offered in February, 1865, and was offered again in 1866, the place of ‘seven’ in the University eight. He declined on grounds of health, fearing the strain of the four-mile course on his heart. A note added later says regretfully: ‘I believe that I was unduly frightened by my doctor, and that I might have rowed.’
To be Senior Legalist and to stroke the first boat on the river in the same term was an unusual combination: in the next Charles Dilke added to it the Presidency of the Union. The new Union buildings were now in process of construction, and he had done more than any other man to bring them from a derisive by-word into solid realization of brick and mortar.
He took credit to himself for ‘the selection of Waterhouse as architect against Gilbert Scott and Digby Wyatt.’ Care to see this business fully through was one of the reasons which determined him to come up for a fourth year, and to hold the Presidency a second time in the Lent term of 1866. On his retirement he proposed Lord Edmond Fitzmaurice for his successor, and thus left the lead in hands he could trust.
Of his own speeches he has preserved some detail, showing how early his opinions displayed the character which was to be constant in them:
‘In 1864-65 I spoke twice at the Union [Footnote: After Dilke’s death, when a resolution of regret was carried at the Union, the Vice- President, Mr. J. H. Allen of Jesus, said in moving it: “Sir Charles was in a double sense the architect of the fortunes of the Society, because he was responsible for the superintendence of the change from the old inadequate home in Queens’ Street into the more glorious building which they now enjoyed. It was for that reason that on two occasions the Society elected him to the highest position which they could confer.”] in favour of the foreign policy of Lord Palmerston, opposing several of my friends who were condemning it. Cobden at the time was attacking supposed extravagance, based, as he thought, on panic, and I sided with Palmerston in thinking that the enormous increase of the French Navy could only be intended for an anti-English policy, while in the event of even the temporary loss of the command of the Channel, invasion by an immense French army would become possible. To Poland I was friendly, but unwilling to contemplate, as Lord Palmerston was unwilling to contemplate, interference by England in alliance with the Emperor Napoleon. I was so far from strongly taking the Danish side in the war that I chose the opportunity to put up in my rooms at Cambridge a photograph of Bismarck, for whom I had a considerable admiration. I had made Lord Palmerston’s acquaintance during the Exhibition in ’62 (to the ceremonies of which I also owed that of Auber, Meyerbeer, and many other distinguished people), but I do not think that the chat of the jaunty old gentleman in his last days had had any effect upon my views, and I was certainly more pro- German than was Palmerston, who was not pro-anything except pro- English.'[Footnote: For Sir Charles’s opinion of Lord Palmerston, see vol. ii., p. 493. ]
The best speech, in Dilke’s own opinion, that he made during 1866 was in opposition to the proposal to congratulate Governor Eyre upon his suppression of ‘the supposed insurrection in Jamaica.’ This was the first of the many occasions on which Sir Charles Dilke criticized the severity of white men towards natives in the name of civilized government.
Fuller antic.i.p.ation of the views he supported in Parliament is to be found in his speeches on home politics. In the spring of 1866 the country was violently agitated over the Reform Bill introduced by Lord Russell, who had become Prime Minister on the death of Lord Palmerston in 1865. Of course there was a debate at the Union, and it was prolonged to a second night. Dilke writes:
‘I took up for the first time broad democratic ground. Attacking the famous speech of Mr. Lowe, [Footnote: Mr. Lowe had asked in the debate on the “Representation of the People Bill,” as reported in Hansard, on March 13th, 1866: “If you want venality, ignorance, drunkenness; if you want impulsive, unreflecting, violent people, where do you look for them? Do you go to the top, or to the bottom?”] I declared that so far was I from agreement with these calumnies, that I was of opinion that those homely and truly English qualities which had to some slight extent grown slack among the upper cla.s.ses were to be met with in all their strength as much in the more intelligent portion of the now unrepresented cla.s.ses, as among those familiarly styled “their betters.” With regard to the question of the fitness of the artisans for the franchise, I argued that they had not to decide for themselves between Austria and Prussia in the Holstein question, but had to decide between candidates who would settle the more abstruse questions for them. The middle cla.s.ses, I contended, could as a body do no more, and the artisan was just as competent to judge of honesty and ability as the 10 householder; and less likely to be influenced by bribery and intimidation, as being more independent and more fearless of consequences. Moreover, any attempt to keep the great ma.s.s of the people from all share of political power seemed to me idle: whether we liked their advent to government or whether we feared it, it was inevitable, and the longer we delayed to prepare for it the worse it would be for so-called Conservative interests when it came. I contended that the working man had proportionately a greater stake in the country than the rich; that the taxes which he paid were a vastly more serious matter to him than those which the rich paid were to them, and that a hundred of the laws pa.s.sed by Parliament vitally affected the interests of the working people to one which injured those of the upper cla.s.s.’
For a young man whose political views were so maturely thought out, debate was no mere exercitation; his education was fast pa.s.sing into apprenticeship for public life; and in February, 1865, his father, Sir Wentworth Dilke, coming forward at a by-election in the Liberal interest for Wallingford, gave the Union debater his first chance on a public platform.
Long afterwards, when Sir Charles Dilke was travelling down to the Forest of Dean with a party of guests and friends, one of them, looking out as the train swept along the Thames Valley, caught sight of a little white church nestling under a hill and asked, “Is that Cholsey?” Sir Charles turned round in his eager way: “What, do you know this district? Yes, that is Cholsey;” and went on to tell how intimate he had become with all the villages round Wallingford when speaking and canva.s.sing for his father, and how the experience gained among the Berkshire peasants had supplied valuable lessons for his own contests in later years.
Sir Wentworth was elected, and Lord Granville, who had a real friendship for him, wrote, in a spirit very typical of the traditional view: “I know no one to whom Parliamentary life will afford more interest and amus.e.m.e.nt.” Charles Dilke’s conception of Parliamentary life was very different from that of his father, and from that which Lord Granville indicated. On the other hand, the son seemed to the father deficient in appreciation of the pleasures acceptable to himself:
‘One of the difficulties between my father and myself about this period arose from his vexation at my refusing to take part in the shooting-parties at Alice Holt. He was pa.s.sionately fond of shooting; … I had now but little sympathy with the amus.e.m.e.nt, and had shown my dislike for it in many ways.’
Yet despite differences, the father was immensely proud of his son, and consulted him in regard to the younger brother’s education. In his reply Charles Dilke discussed the view of certain Dons who held that the cultivated English gentleman ought not to go in for honours at all, and admitted that “reading for a high place here involves loss of many pleasures, of almost all society; it makes a man fretful, and often leaves him behind the world; as an education for the mind it is not so good as the self-education of a non-honours man ought to be, _but never is_.” He thought, nevertheless, that cla.s.sics–of which he avowed himself “more ignorant than an English gentleman ought to be”–offered the field in which success was best worth having. He himself “would gladly be put back to fourteen or fifteen, and ‘grind my life out’ till two-and-twenty, in order to get a high place in the first-cla.s.s cla.s.sics.” But it must be all or nothing. A second-cla.s.s he dismissed as not worth winning. Moreover, “if the boy has not a high standard set up for him, he will do nothing whatever, which is far worse than doing too much.”
Meanwhile, in the midst of all that full college life which was becoming more and more definitely a preparation for the political career, he was trying his strength in the field of journalism.
His grandfather had never ceased to impress upon him that every public man should have learned and practised thoroughly the craft of writing. This precept allied itself with the inherited ownership of a great literary journal; and very shortly after old Mr. Dilke’s death the undergraduate, as he then was, began to a.s.sociate himself actively with the work of the _Athenaeum_. His first published writing in it appeared on October 22nd, 1864, when he reviewed a well-known work on economics by the writer whom the Memoir styles ‘that dull Frenchman, Le Play.’ [Footnote: French Senator, son-in-law of the celebrated economist Michel Chevalier. He wrote works on the principles of agriculture, the application of chemistry to agriculture, and kindred subjects.] Le Play wrote from Paris to thank Sir Wentworth Dilke for a copy of the article which had been sent him, and had already attracted attention in France:
“On y trouve un sentiment de vrai progres et une intelligence de la vie pratique qui se rencontrent rarement chez nos critiques.”
The British Museum tickets show the course of reading which Charles Dilke was pursuing at this period: Bacon, Filmer, Mandeville, Hume, represent the older English writers on Commonwealths, ideal and actual; Crousaz, Condorcet, Diderot, Linguet, Fenelon, Helvetius, stood for the influences of eighteenth-century France. With them were writers more recondite; the _Mundus Alter et Idem_ of “Britannicus,” _Barclay his Argenis_, Holberg’s _Journey in the Underworld_, Sadeur’s _Terre Australe Connue_, Ned Lane’s _Excellencie of a Free State_, were all out-of-the-way books with an antiquarian flavour. Of recent or contemporary authors, Montalembert was included, with Proudhon, as were men whom Charles Dilke came to know personally–emile de Girardin, Michel Chevalier, and, a close friend afterwards, Louis Blanc. Works of Mohl and Willick brought in the Germans, and a volume of the _Federalist_ introduced him to that great American commonwealth which he was soon to visit. A sheaf of dockets for works upon the Swedenborgian a.s.sociation and theories complete this very extensive range of reading, which may be supplemented by the following note of his own: