of the Privilege, for he not only thinks
that the dicta of the Judges are not to be questioned, but that
the House of Commons ought not to have the Privilege at all--that
is, that their papers ought not to be sold, and that they ought
not to be circulated without anything being previously weeded out
of them which the law would consider libellous. This strong
opinion of his renders the question exceedingly difficult and
embarrassing, for it was become very clear that nothing but the
intervention of the House of Lords could untie so ravelled a
knot. All the Tories are in a state of mingled rage and despair
at the impetuosity with which Peel has plunged into this matter,
and at the irretrievable manner in which he has identified
himself with Lord John Russell upon it. Stanley and Graham have
always voted with him, but have never once opened their lips,
from which it is sufficiently clear that they don't go nearly so
far as he does, and now Graham is acting as a sort of mediator
and negotiator, to try and effect some compromise or arrangement,
but the case seems nearly hopeless. Peel, on the other hand, is
evidently as much annoyed and provoked with his party as his
party with him. The other day, Arbuthnot, Peel, and Graham met at
Apsley House, and talked upon every subject, Arbuthnot told me,
but that of Privilege, on which none of them touched--a pretty
clear proof how tender the ground is become. The Tory press has
grown very violent, and treats Peel with no more forbearance for
his conduct on this question than the Whig and Radical did John
Russell for his speech about Church rates; so rabid and
unscrupulous are all Ultras of whatever opinion. I told Melbourne
how matters stood, at which he seemed mightily disconcerted.

February 25th, 1840 {p.271}

Yesterday I saw the Duke of Wellington, whom I had not seen for
above six months, except for a moment at the Council just after
his first illness. He looked better than I expected--very thin,
and his clothes hanging about him, but strong on his legs, and
his head erect. The great alteration I remarked was in his voice,
which was hollow, though loud, and his utterance, which, though
not indistinct, was very slow. He is certainly now only a ruin.
He is gone to receive the Judges at Strathfieldsaye, and he will
go on again when he comes back to town, and hold on while he can.
It is his desire to die with the harness on his back, and he
cannot endure the notion of retirem