t was resolved that a
communication to this effect should be made to Peel. Aberdeen
charged himself with it and went to Peel's house, where Sutton was
at the time. Peel came to Aberdeen in a very bad humour, said he
saw from what had passed at the dinner that nobody was thought of
but the Duke, and he should wash his hands of the whole business;
that he had already declined having anything to do with the
Government, and to that determination he should adhere. The
following Monday the whole thing was at an end.
I am not sure that I have stated these occurrences exactly as
they were told me. There may be errors in the order of the
interviews and _pourparlers_, and in the verbal details, but the
substance is correct, and may be summed up to this effect: that
Peel, full of ambition, but of caution, animated by deep dislike
and jealousy of the Duke (which policy induced him to conceal,
but which temper betrayed), thought to make Manners Sutton play
the part of Addington, while he was to be another Pitt; he
fancied that he could gain in political character, by an opposite
line of conduct, all that the Duke would lose; and he resolved
that a Government should be formed the existence of which should
depend upon himself. Manners Sutton was to be his creature; he
would have dictated every measure of Government; he would have
been their protector in the House of Commons; and, as soon as the
fitting moment arrived, he would have dissolved this miserable
Ministry and placed himself at the head of affairs. All these
deep-laid schemes, and constant regard of self, form a strong
contrast to the simplicity and heartiness of the Duke's conduct,
and make the two men appear in a very different light from that
in which they did at first. Peel acted right from bad motives,
the Duke wrong from good ones. The Duke put himself forward, and
encountered all the obloquy and reproach to which he knew he
exposed himself, and having done so, cheerfully offered to resign
the power to another. Peel endeavoured to seize the power, but to
shield himself from responsibility and danger. It is a melancholy
proof of the dearth of talent and the great capacity of the man
that, notwithstanding the detection of his practices and his
motives, the Tories are compelled still to keep well with him and
to accept him for their leader. No cordiality, however, can exist
again between him and the Duke and his friends, and, should the
Whig Government be expelled, the
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