Lapas attēli

vain idea of the independence of Scotland. With less to sacrifice, and much fewer to regret me, I have made the sacrifice probably as vainly. But I am strongly impressed with the necessity of the case, and I know that not a man will speak out but one who, like myself, is at [once] above and below consequences. Scotland is fast passing under other management and into other hands than Lord Melville's father would have permitted. In points of abstract discussion, quickness of reform, &c., the Whigs are assuming an absolute and undisputed authority. (P. 324.)

The quarrel was, however, amicably wound up. Lord Melville sent a message through Sir Robert Dundas, expressing the assurance that, however much he might dissent from Malachi's views on the currency, this would not be allowed to interrupt his affectionate regard for the author; and the message was accepted by Sir Walter in the spirit in which it was sent.

But what Sir Walter said about the management of Scotland passing into other hands was daily being realised. The struggle for reform had become vital, and compliance with the popular demands could not much longer be denied. Yet even so late as 1826 the Dundases had failed to perceive the tendency of coming events, or that the old order could give place to a new. The representation of Midlothian had for long been as thoroughly the property of the Arniston family as if they had held it by entail; and the representation of the city of Edinburgh was almost as much under their control. In 1826,

The family of Arniston were startled by hearing of a plot on the part of a section of the Edinburgh Town Council to throw off their old allegiance, and to elect the Lord Provost as their member in place of William Dundas, who had represented the city since 1812. At the first intimation of such a piece of treachery, Robert Dundas seems to have pounced upon the unlucky provost, and to have brought him to book.' (P. 326.)

The result of the meeting with the provost is communicated by Arniston to his uncle, Lord Melville. 'I went

straight,' he says, “to the provost. He came into the room shaking and trembling, and clearly ashamed of himself.' The italics are in the original, and sufficiently describe to us the terrible power the Dundases wielded over civic Edinburgh even so late as within six years of the passing of the Reform Bill. It need hardly, after this, be added that the provost, worthy upholsterer that he was, 'cowered his diminished • head, and William Dundas was left unopposed.

It is needless to follow the process of disintegration step


by step. When at length the Reform Bill had passed, the Dundas family still made a stand for their old privileges; but the Conservatives were thoroughly defeated, both in the 'city of Edinburgh and in the county. The Dundas influence had ceased. When the first general election under the new Act was completed, it was found that the Scottish counties had returned twenty-one Whigs and nine Tories; that the burghs had returned twenty-two Whigs and one Tory. The conclusion cannot be told better than in Mr. Omond's own words.

* The highest hopes of the Whigs and the worst fears of the Tories had been realised; and with this election the long-continued supremacy of the Tory party in Scotland came to an end. Few could have supposed, on the formation of the Duke of Wellington's Administration, that within the short space of two years the whole of that elaborate structure of political power, which had been erected and maintained with such distinguished ability by the leaders of the ruling party, and, above all, by the menībers of the House of Arniston, was to be shattered to pieces. But nothing less had taken place. The old system had completely disappeared, and its place had been taken by a new system, the results of which, then unforeseen, politicians are, perhaps, now only begianing to realise.'

ART. IX.-Mémoires du Prince Adam Czartoryski et Corres

pondance avec l'Empereur Alexandre I. Avec Préface par M. CH. DE MAZADE, de l'Académie Française. 2 vols.

Paris : 1887. WAF HEN Prince Adam Czartoryski died in Paris, in July

1861, he was more than a nonagenarian, having been born in Warsaw in 1770, two years before the second partition of Poland. In his family longevity is hereditary, and sorrow and exile and disappointment do not always kill their victims. At the time of his death the whole Polish party, at home and abroad, was agitated, and men, according to their different temperaments and their more or less clearsightedness, either welcomed or dreaded the outbreak of civil and insurrectionary war, and the passionate drama of a campaign. Not only had the Hôtel Lambert at that moment its own share of personal trials, but there existed many valid public reasons why these memoirs should not, on the death of the writer, be given directly to the world. In 1862, one long fragment was, however, allowed to appear. It referred to the famous conversation with regard to Poland which occurred at the palace of La Tauride, between

Alexander-Pavlovitch, then under the tutelage of his grandmother the Empress Catherine, and Prince Adam Czartoryski, then a subaltern in the Imperial Guard. Among the papers collected by Prince Ladislaus Czartoryski was this famous extract, intended to remind the world of 1862 that the Polish question had once been leniently viewed even by a Muscovite czar, and to show that Poland had once had advocates more worthy than the socialists, doctrinaires, and adventurers who had just hurried her into another unequal struggle. This book, arranged as it was by M. Charles de Mazade, did attract some attention, but since then another quarter of a century has elapsed, another generation has grown to manhood, and it is to us that M. Charles de Mazade now presents the early portrait of Prince Adam Czartoryski, as drawn by himself.

The book is in two volumes. The second is entirely composed of the pièces justificatives, of the drafts of state papers, and of the letters that passed between AlexanderPavlovitch and his Polish friend. The period covered is from 1801 to 1823, two years before the death of the Emperor, but when Prince Adam had already experienced the supreme and irreparable deceptions which closed at once his official career and his intimacy with the Emperor. The first volume is only a fragment, covering the years between 1770 and 1809. Quantities of rough notes for a further autobiography exist, but M. de Mazade says that they are too fragmentary to be built into anything like a consecutive narrative. As regards Polish matters it is perhaps as well. They could only discover secrets better veiled, and sorrows which death has come to heal. The narrative, had it run on, must have stirred bitter memories, and perhaps for this reason the prince never elaborated his notes about the years of Poland's greatest anguish. Birds sing only in the spring; and if men after the loss of all their illusions lapse into silence, it is because, like Wordsworth's heroine, they

have no more to say Of that perpetual weight

Which on their spirit lay.' It is none the less tantalising to have this autobiography close at Austerlitz. We should have wished to follow Adam Czartoryski beyond the end of the Coalition, called in Russia“ the · War of the Forty Nations,' and to have had his sketches of Tilsit and of the campaign in Russia, still spoken of as its ‘Holy War.' These themes have just inspired Count

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Lyof Tolstoï's 'Peace and War,' a book so varied and so complicated in its interest that it is rather a Summa or a Commedia than a mere historical novel. How far more delightful would it have been had Prince Adam sketched those eventful years ! He could have given pictures even more faithful. He might even have rivalled the Souvenirs of the young Lithuanian maid-of-honour, Mademoiselle de Tiesenhäusen (Comtesse de Choiseul-Gouffier) in her pictures of life at Wilna, when Napoleon was not only at its gates, but had stirred the hopes of the Lithuanian gentry, whom not all Alexander's blandishments could win from seeking to reconstitute their country through the help of French victories. Prince Adam has sketched the statesmen of the Coalition. We wish that he had gone on to portray Paulucci and Rostopchine, whose strategy, along with the snows of a most rigorous winter, have left to Alexander the prestige of being not only the most amiable of European sovereigns, but the only adversary before whom Napoleon succumbed.

While regretting its briefness, let us examine the fragment we have got. We shall assuredly not be disappointed. The style is delightful, and the high breeding and sweet temper of the writer give a charm to every page.

Associated with the statesmen and generals of this epoch of really titanic strife, we see two human creatures of the most singular qualities, and of still more singular positions. Of this pair of friends, one is the heir to the crown of All the Russias; the other is the heir of Polish palatines and the kinsman of Polish kings. One is heir presumptive to an autocratic sovereignty; the other is a hostage, put into the Guard, as an Israelite of old might have been put into the priest's office, that he might eat a

piece of bread,' and purchase for his family some measure of pardon or indemnity. This situation is a moving one, and it would seize on the imagination even if there were not already, in the person, lineage, character, and accomplishments of the young Pole, many of the elements which a novelist would select for his romance. Novels are after all only the histories of what might have taken place; and history is not a mere collection of facts, multiplied and multiplying themselves as materials accumulate, but owes its most undying charm to its human interest. In these memoirs the human interest reaches a high degree of pathos.

Born in Warsaw in 1770, Adam was the eldest son of Prince Adam-Casimir Czartoryski, Starost-General of Podolia. Warsaw and Cracow were then rivals for the dignity of being capitals of Poland, and Warsaw was full of the palaces of the Poniatowsky, Radzivill, Brühl, and Zamoyski families. Yet, assuredly, among these proud and insubordinate families thé Czartoryskis were second to none in pretensions, in lineage, and in wealth. Descendants of the Jagellons, they had for three hundred years borne the style and title of prince, and this Adam-Casimir, covetous of a closed crown, actually offered himself for election to the throne of Poland when the other competitor in the field was his relative, Stanislaus Poniatowski. Surnamed the Mæcenas of Poland, he was not unfit to fill the public eye. He was accomplished and generous, received foreigners with a stately courtesy, and gave to his children an education adapted to their great station and to their greater hopes. Of course he had seen some military service, but it had been under the Austrian flag, and in his political leanings he was intensely anti-Muscovite. He led a large party. His brother, Michael, was Chancellor of Lithuania ; his sister was married to Prince Lubomirski; while of his daughters, one was given in marriage to Count Stanislaus Zamoyski, and the other to Prince Louis of Würtemberg, brother of the Empress Maria of Russia.

Such was the house. Yet on the birth of its heir fortune could not have been said to smile. Poland was torn by factions; its diets and dietines were hotbeds of intrigue; the nobles were impracticable, the feud between them and the peasantry had become envenomed. Adam-Casimir Czartoryski saw only one thing plainly—the ambition of Catherine and its consequent danger to Poland. He sided accordingly with Stanislaus Leczinski, that king of Poland who owed his election to the invasion of Charles XII. (1704), and his re-election to the fact that his daughter Marie was the wife of Louis XV. and Queen of France. Russia, on the contrary, was ever inimical to him, and Russian influence prevailing, he was sent to end his days in Lorraine, where Nancy owes to him, even to this day, the many ornaments of her stately streets and squares.

Poland now stood on the brink of the precipice over which she was soon to be hurled, and the election of Augustus III. was so much the work of a party that for some years he was not universally acknowledged. Moreover, he was at heart a Saxon and not a Polish prince, and, whenever the wars of Frederic the Great allowed of it, he resided in Dresden far more willingly than either in Warsaw or in Cracow. But if he was an indifferent absentee, there was another eye fixed day and night on this expiring majesty of Poland.

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