The Chancellor, who loves to unbosom himself to Sefton because he knows the latter thinks him the finest fellow breathing, tells him that it is nuts to him to be attacked by noble Lords in the Upper House, and that they had better leave him alone if they care for their own hides. Since he loves these assaults, last night he got his bellyful, for he was baited by a dozen at least, and he did not come out of the _mêlée_ so chuckling and happy as usual. The matter related to the Pluralities Bill, which he had introduced some nights before, in an empty House, without giving notice, and after having told many people (the Archbishop of York among others) that there was nothing more to be done that night. In short, he was at his tricks again, lying and shuffling, false and then insolent, and all for no discernible end. The debate exhibits a detail of his misstatements, and of all his wriggling and plunging to get out of the scrape he had got himself into. It is because scarcely any or rather no motive was apparent that it is with difficulty believed that he meant to deceive anybody. But it is in the nature of the man; he cannot go straightforward; some object, no matter how trivial, presents itself to his busy and distempered mind, and he immediately begins to think by what artifice and what underhand work he can bring it about; and thus he exposes himself to the charges of dishonourable conduct without any adequate consideration or cause. He reminds me of the man in 'Jonathan Wild' who was a rogue by force of habit, who could not keep his hand out of his neighbour's pocket though he knew there was nothing in it, nor help cheating at cards though he was aware he should not be paid if he won. It is thought that the exhibition of last night will not be without its influence upon the fate of this Administration.
The Government is on the very brink of dissolution. The Irish Church Bill is the immediate cause, Stanley and Graham standing out against the majority of the Cabinet with regard to the Appropriation clause. Stanley, _they think_, would have knocked under if Graham had not been very fierce and urged him on to resistance. They attribute all the present bother to Graham, who pleads conscience and religious feelings. It is impossible to guess how it will end, and there is a terrible turmoil. Stanley was with the King for two hours yesterday. The violent party evidently wish Lord Grey to let Stanley go out, and those who choose to go with him, and to reinforce the Cabinet with Durham, Mulgrave, and that sort of thing, and what they call 'throw themselves on the House of Commons and the country.' On the other hand the half-Tories and moderates wish the Government to adopt a moderate tone and course, and seek support from the House of Lords. As to the House of Commons, it is a curious body, supporting the Ministers through thick and thin one day and buffeting them the next. On the Bank question the night before last Althorp was beaten, after imploring everybody to come and support him and making the strangest declarations. I am very sorry that there should be a chance of a split on such a question as the Irish Church, which really is not tenable. His colleagues (or their friends at least) suspect that Graham kicks up this dust with ulterior views, and they think he aims at a junction with Peel--Stanley of course included--and coming into office with a moderate mixed party. It will be a great evil if the Government is broken up just now, but it is quite clear that they cannot go on long; it is a question of months. The Duke of Wellington told me yesterday that he could do nothing, and he will be rather shy of giving to the world a second volume of that old business in which he got so bedevilled two years ago.