""I encourage my boys all I can in this line; it promises well for their future.""
"After some talk, Mr. John Morley"s card was brought up and, seeing Sir William look rather subdued, I told the servant to ask him to wait in my boudoir for a few minutes and a.s.sured my guest that I was in no hurry for him to go; but Harcourt began to fidget about and after a little he insisted on John Morley coming up. We had a good talk a trots, starting by abusing men who minded other people"s opinion or what the newspapers said of them. Knowing, as I did, that both of them were highly sensitive to the Press, I encouraged the conversation.
"JOHN MORLEY: "I can only say I agree with what Joe once said to me, "I would rather the newspapers were for than against me.""
"SIR WILLIAM: "My dear chap, you would surely not rather have the DAILY CHRONICLE on your side. Why, bless my soul, our party has had more harm done it through the DAILY CHRONICLE than anything else!"
"MARGOT: Do you think so? I think its screams, though pitched a little high, are effective!"
"JOHN MORLEY: "Oh, you like Ma.s.singham, of course, because your husband is one of his heroes."
"SIR WILLIAM: "Well, all I can say is he always abuses me and I am glad of it."
"JOHN MORLEY: "He abuses me, too, though not, perhaps, quite so often as you!"
"MARGOT: "I would like him to praise me. I think his descriptions of the House of Commons debates are not only true and brilliant but fine literature; there is both style and edge in his writing and I rather like that bitter-almond flavour! How strangely the paper changed over to Lord Rosebery, didn"t it?"
"Feeling this was ticklish ground, as Harcourt thought that he and not Rosebery should have been Prime Minister, I turned the talk on to Goschen.
"SIR WILLIAM: "It is sad to see the way Goschen has lost his hold in the country; he has not been at all well treated by his colleagues."
"This seemed to me to be also rather risky, so I said boldly that I thought Goschen had done wonders in the House and country, considering he had a poor voice and was naturally cautious. I told them I loved him personally and that Jowett at whose house I first met him shared my feeling in valuing his friendship. After this he took his departure, promising to bring me roses from Malwood.
"John Morley--the most fastidious and fascinating of men--stayed on with me and suggested quite seriously that, when we went out of office (which might happen any day), he and I should write a novel together. He said that, if I would write the plot and do the female characters, he would manage the men and politics.
I asked if he wanted the old Wilkie Collins idea of a plot with a hundred threads drawn into one woof, or did he prefer modern nothingness, a shred of a story attached to unending a.n.a.lysis and the infinitely little commented upon with elaborate and pretentious humour. He scorned the latter.
I asked him if he did not want to go permanently away from politics to literature and discussed all his wonderful books and writings. I chaffed him about the way he had spoken of me before our marriage, in spite of the charming letter he had written, how it had been repeated to me that he had said my light-hearted indiscretions would ruin Henry"s career; and I asked him what I had done since to merit his renewed confidence.
"He did not deny having criticised me, for although "Honest John"
--the name by which he went among the Radicals--was singularly ill- chosen, I never heard of Morley telling a lie. He was quite impenitent and I admired his courage.
"After an engrossing conversation, every moment of which I loved, he said good-bye to me and I leant back against the pillow and gazed at the pattern on the wall.
"Henry came into my room shortly after this and told me the Government had been beaten by seven in a vote of censure pa.s.sed on Campbell-Bannerman in Supply, in connection with small arms ammunition. I looked at him wonderingly and said:
""Are you sad, darling, that we are out?"
"To which he replied:
""Only for one reason. I wish I had completed my prison reforms. I have, however, appointed the best committee ever seen, who will go on with my work. Ruggles-Brise, the head of it, is a splendid little fellow!"
"At that moment he received a note to say he was wanted in the House of Commons immediately, as Lord Rosebery had been sent for by the Queen. This excited us much and, before he could finish telling me what had happened, he went straight down to Westminster . ... John Morley had missed this fateful division, as he was sitting with me, and Harcourt had only just arrived at the House in time to vote.
"Henry returned at 1 a.m. and came to say good night to me: he generally said his prayers by my bedside. He told me that St. John Brodrick"s motion to reduce C. B."s salary by L100 had turned the Government out; that Rosebery had resigned and gone straight down to Windsor; that Campbell-Bannerman was indignant and hurt; that few of our men were in the House; and that Akers Douglas, the Tory Whip, could not believe his eyes when he handed the figures to Tom Ellis, our chief Whip, who returned them to him in silence.
"The next morning St. John Brodrick came to see me, full of excitement and sympathy. He was anxious to know if we minded his being instrumental in our downfall; but I am so fond of him that, of course, I told him that I did not mind, as a week sooner or later makes no difference and St. John"s division was only one out of many indications in the House and the country that our time was up. Henry came back from the Cabinet in the middle of our talk and shook his fist in fun at "our enemy." He was tired, but good- humoured as ever.
"At 3:30 Princess Helene d"Orleans came to see me and told me of her engagement to the Due d"Aosta. She looked tall, black and distinguished. She spoke of Prince Eddy to me with great frankness. I told her I had sometimes wondered at her devotion to one less clever than herself. At this her eyes filled with tears and she explained to me how much she had been in love and the sweetness and n.o.bility of his character. I had reason to know the truth of what she said when one day Queen Alexandra, after talking to me in moving terms of her dead son, wrote in my Prayer Book:
"Man looketh upon the countenance, but G.o.d upon the heart.
"Helene adores the Princess of Wales [Footnote: Queen Alexandra.]
but not the Prince! [Footnote: King Edward VII.] and says the latter"s rudeness to her brother, the Duc d"Orleans, is terrible.
I said nothing, as I am devoted to the Prince and think her brother deserves any ill-treatment he gets. I asked her if she was afraid of the future: a new country and the prospect of babies, etc. She answered that d"Aosta was so genuinely devoted that it would make everything easy for her.
""What would you do if he were unfaithful to you?" I asked.
"PRINCESS HELENE: "Oh! I told Emanuel. ... I said, "You see? I leave you ... If you are not true to me, I instantly leave you,"
and I should do so at once."
"She begged me never to forget her, but always to pray for her.
""I love you," she said, "as every one else does"; and with a warm embrace she left the room.
"She came of a handsome family: Blowitz"s famous description,"de loin on dirait un Prussien, de pres un imbecile," was made of a near relation of the d.u.c.h.esse d"Aosta."
With the fall of the Government my diary of that year ceases to have the smallest interest.
CHAPTER IX
MARGOT IN 1906 SUMS UP HER LIFE; A LOT OF LOVE-MAKING, A LITTLE FAME AND MORE ABUSE--A REAL MAN AND GREAT HAPPINESS
I will finish with a character-sketch of myself copied out of my diary, written nine weeks before the birth of my fifth and last baby in 1906, and like everything else that I have quoted never intended for the public eye:
"I am not pretty, and I do not know anything about my expression, although I observe it is this that is particularly dwelt upon if one is sufficiently plain; but I hope, when you feel as kindly towards your fellow-creatures as I do, that some of that warmth may modify an otherwise bright and rather knifey CONTOUR.
"My figure has remained as it was: slight, well-balanced and active. Being socially courageous and not at all shy, I think I can come into a room as well as many people of more appearance and prestige. I do not propose to treat myself like Mr. Bernard Shaw in this account. I shall neither excuse myself from praise, nor shield myself from blame, but put down the figures as accurately as I can and leave others to add them up.
"I think I have imagination, born not of fancy, but of feeling; a conception of the beautiful, not merely in poetry, music, art and nature, but in human beings. I have insight into human nature, derived not only from a courageous experience, but also from imagination; and I have a clear though distant vision, down dark, long and often divergent avenues, of the ordered meaning of G.o.d. I take this opportunity of saying my religion is a vibrating reality never away from me; and this is all I shall write upon the subject.
"It is difficult to describe what one means by imagination, but I think it is more than inventiveness, or fancy. I remember discussing the question with John Addington Symonds and, to give him a hasty ill.u.s.tration of what I meant, I said I thought naming a Highland regiment "The Black Watch" showed a HIGH degree of imagination. He was pleased with this; and as a personal testimonial I may add that both he and Jowett told me that no one could be as good a judge of character as I was who was without imagination. In an early love-letter to me, Henry wrote:
"Imaginative insight you have more than any one I have ever met!
"I think I am deficient in one form of imagination; and Henry will agree with this. I have a great longing to help those I love: this leads me to intrepid personal criticism; and I do not always know what hurts my friends" feelings. I do not think I should mind anything that I have said to others being said to me, but one never can tell; I have a good, sound digestion and personally prefer knowing the truth; I have taken adverse criticism pretty well all my life and had a lot of it; but by some gap I have not succeeded in making my friends take it well. I am not vain or touchy; it takes a lot to offend me; but when I am hurt the scar remains. I feel differently about people who have hurt me; my confidence has been shaken; I hope I am not ungenerous, but I fear I am not really forgiving. Worldly people say that explanations are a mistake; but having it out is the only chance any one can ever have of retaining my love; and those who have neither the courage, candour nor humbleness to say they are wrong are not worth loving. I am not afraid of suffering too much in life, but much more afraid of feeling too little; and quarrels make me profoundly unhappy. One of my complaints against the shortness of life is that there is not time enough to feel pity and love for enough people. I am infinitely compa.s.sionate and moved to my foundations by the misfortunes of other people.
"As I said in my 1888 character-sketch, truthfulness with me is hardly a virtue, but I cannot discriminate between truths that need and those that need not be told. Want of courage is what makes so many people lie. It would be difficult for me to say exactly what I am afraid of. Physically and socially not much; morally, I am afraid of a good many things: reprimanding servants, bargaining in shops; or to turn to more serious matters, the loss of my health, the children"s or Henry"s. Against these last possibilities I pray in every recess of my thoughts.
"With becoming modesty I have said that I am imaginative, loving and brave! What then are my faults?
"I am fundamentally nervous, impatient, irritable and restless.
These may sound slight shortcomings, but they go to the foundation of my nature, crippling my activity, lessening my influence and preventing my achieving anything remarkable. I wear myself out in a hundred unnecessary ways, regretting the trifles I have not done, arranging and re-arranging what I have got to do and what every one else is going to do, till I can hardly eat or sleep. To be in one position for long at a time, or sit through bad plays, to listen to moderate music or moderate conversation is a positive punishment to me. I am energetic and industrious, but I am a little too quick; I am DRIVEN along by my temperament till I tire myself and every one else.