Page:Dictionary of National Biography volume 15.djvu/120

 as well as a prosperous community. But it was in the advice tendered to her majesty to assume the title of Empress of India that Beaconsfield was supposed to have given the rein most freely to his heated imagination and innate sympathy with despotism. We notice the charge, not because we believe that there was a particle of truth in it, but because no biography of this eminent man would be complete without some further reference to his supposed sympathy with personal government.

Beaconsfield was the first to perceive that one tendency of the Reform Bill of 1832 was to increase the power of individuals, and that he would have been well pleased to see it turned to the advantage of the crown may readily be granted. He saw that with the removal of those restraints which are imposed on the most powerful of ministers by an oligarchical constitution one guarantee against personal supremacy had vanished. Unless some substitute for it could be found in the royal prerogative, we seemed threatened with a septennial dictatorship. Democracy is favourable to tribunes, and tribunes are not celebrated for their moderation, disinterestedness, or love of constitutional liberty. With each enlargement of our electoral system the danger would grow worse, as great masses of people, especially uneducated masses, can only comprehend simplicity, and are impatient of all the complicated machinery, the checks and counter-checks on which constitutional systems are dependent. It may not have seemed impossible to Beaconsfield at one time that the crown might come to represent that personal element in the government of the country which democracies love. It is said that one of his colleagues who disagreed with him, conversing with an acquaintance on her majesty's known attachment to Beaconsfield, said: 'He tells her, sir, that she can govern like Queen Elizabeth.'  But whatever he told his sovereign it did not go beyond what has been already explained. And considering that a minister who is a dictator is really more powerful than either king or queen, and that the mischief which he may accomplish in seven years is incalculable, it is after all a question perhaps whether some increase in the direct power of the crown might not be for the public good.

By his removal to the House of Lords the government was decidedly weakened, but Beaconsfield's own abilities were as conspicuous in the one house as in the other, and some of his greatest speeches were delivered during the last five years of his life. But the clouds which had been dispersed by the treaty of Berlin and the successful termination of the Afghan war began once more to gather round his administration. A war with the Zulus in South Africa, attended by serious disasters, and the continued depression of the agricultural and commercial interests, combined to create that vague discontent throughout the country which always portends a change of government. It is remarkable, indeed, that the most sanguine member of the opposition did not look forward to more than a bare majority, and that most of the whig leaders despaired of their fortunes altogether.

Beaconsfield himself, perhaps, foresaw what was likely to happen more clearly than any one. 'I think it very doubtful whether you will find us here this time next year,' was his remark to a friend who came to take leave of him in Downing Street before leaving England for a twelvemonth. But neither he nor any one else expected so decisive a defeat. Encouraged for the moment by great electoral successes at Liverpool, Sheffield, and Southwark, the cabinet determined to dissolve parliament in March 1880, and the result was that the tory party lost a hundred and eleven seats. Beaconsfield at once resigned when he saw that the day was irretrievably lost, and Mr. Gladstone returned to power for the second time with an immense majority.

During the brief priod of political leader ship that still remained to him, Beaconsfield conducted himself with great wisdom and moderation. It was owing to his advice that the House of Lords accepted both the Burials Bill and the Ground Game Bill, reserving their strength for the more important and mischievous proposals which he believed to be in store for them. Thus when government, to please their Irish supporters, passed the Compensation for Disturbance Bill through the commons, he was able to secure its rejection in the House of Lords with less strain on their lordships' authority than might otherwise have been occasioned. In the following session and within six weeks of his death he spoke with great eloquence and earnestness against the evacuation of Candahar (4 March), and it was in this speech that he uttered the memorable words which will long live in English history: 'But, my lords, the key of India is not Herat or Candahar; the key of India is London.' This, though not the last time that his voice was heard in the House of Lords, was the last of his great speeches. About three weeks afterwards he was known to be indisposed, and though his illness fluctuated almost from day to day, and was not for some time supposed to be dangerous, he never left the house again. For the space of four weeks the public anxiety grew daily more intense; and from