I am not fond of money, or anxious about it.  But, though every day makes me less and less eager for wealth, every day shows me more and more strongly how necessary a competence is to a man who desires to be either great or useful.  At present the plain fact is that I can continue to be a public man only while I can continue in office.  If I left my place in the Government, I must leave my seat in Parliament too.  For I must live; I can live only by my pen; and it is absolutely impossible for any man to write enough to procure him a decent subsistence, and at the same time to take an active part in politics.  I have not during this Session been able to send a single line to the Edinburgh Review; and, if I had been out of office, I should have been able to do very little.  Edward Bulwer has just given up the New Monthly Magazine on the ground that he cannot conduct it, and attend to his Parliamentary duties.  Cobbett has been compelled to neglect his Register so much that its sale has fallen almost to nothing.  Now, in order to live like a gentleman, it would be necessary for me to write, not as I have done hitherto, but regularly, and even daily.  I have never made more than two hundred a year by my pen.  I could not support myself in comfort on less than five hundred; and I shall in all probability have many others to support.  The prospects of our family are, if possible, darker than ever.

In the meantime my political outlook is very gloomy.  A schism in the Ministry is approaching.  It requires only that common knowledge of public affairs, which any reader of the newspapers may possess, to see this; and I have more, much more, than common knowledge on the subject.  They cannot hold together.  I tell you in perfect seriousness that my chance of keeping my present situation for six months is so small, that I would willingly sell it for fifty pounds down.  If I remain in office, I shall, I fear, lose my political character.  If I go out, and engage in opposition, I shall break most of the private ties which I have formed during the last three years.  In England I see nothing before me, for some time to come, but poverty, unpopularity, and the breaking up of old connections.

If there were no way out of these difficulties, I would encounter them with courage.  A man can always act honourably and uprightly; and, if I were in the Fleet Prison or the rules of the King’s Bench, I believe that I could find in my own mind resources which would preserve me from being positively unhappy.  But, if I could escape from these impending disasters, I should wish to do so.  By accepting the post which is likely to be offered to me, I withdraw myself for a short time from the contests of faction here.  When I return, I shall find things settled, parties formed into new combinations, and new questions under discussion.  I shall then be able, without the scandal of a violent separation, and without exposing myself to the charge of inconsistency, to take my