October 3rd.—There appears to be a general feeling of uneasiness, almost of alarm, as if something was impending to disturb the peace of the world and interrupt the prosperity of nations, though nobody can very well tell what it is they dread. The apprehension is vague, but it is general. The only political question of any consequence in which we are concerned is that of Naples, and some fancy that the Russian manifesto prognosticates a renewal of the contest with that Empire. I have no such idea, but I am quite unable to comprehend what it is the different Powers are about; there is a general impression, probably not unfounded, that France and Russia are meditating a close alliance, and if this be the truth, it is not likely that Russia should have put forth a State paper offensive to France. It is by no means impossible that Gortschakoff may have ascertained that the declaration of his Emperor's opinion would not be distasteful to the Emperor Napoleon, who probably does not enter con amore into this contest with Naples and merely does it to please us.[1]

When Baudin took leave of him at Paris the other day on his going to Russia, he said to him, 'Is it your Majesty's wish that I should cultivate the most friendly relations with the English Ministers at Moscow and Petersburg?' to which the Emperor replied 'Certainly,' and 'L'Angleterre avant tout.' In this there can be little doubt of his personal sincerity, but probably his personal disposition and the policy of his Government and the sentiments of the French people do not altogether coincide, and this places him in a somewhat false position, and will most likely lead to apparent vacillation and inconsistency in his conduct.

Madame de Lieven writes to me that the Neapolitan Minister at Paris affirms that his King will not give way at the dictation of the allied Powers. We do not, however, as yet know what it is that is required of him. If it be true that he should govern his people more mildly and liberally, nothing can be more vague, and our greatest difficulties would begin when we had extorted from him promises and engagements to act according to our notions of justice and humanity. He would be more than mortal if he was disposed honestly to act up to engagements and promises extorted from him by fear, and it would be impossible for us to superintend and secure their due performance without taking upon ourselves virtually the government of his kingdom and superseding the King's authority. We never should get France to concur in this, and on the whole it appears more probable that differences will arise in the course of this joint action between us and France than that we should succeed in ameliorating the condition of Naples. I fear the rage for interfering in the internal affairs of other countries will never be extinguished here. I see in the papers to-day an address to Clarendon from the Protestant Society, requesting he will interpose with the Spanish Government in favour of some Spanish subject who has got into trouble in consequence of having turned Protestant, and being engaged in diffusing the Scriptures, and trying to convert others to Protestantism, which is an offence against the laws of Spain.

October 7th.—I have seen Clarendon and asked him about the affair of Naples. He was not very communicative, and I suspect he is not very easy about the course we are pursuing and the part he has to play. He first said that it was impossible for us to tolerate the conduct of the King to us, and the impertinence of his note. I asked what it was he said; Clarendon replied it amounted to this, 'Mind your own business.' Then he alluded to the atrocities of the Government, which ought not to be endured; that no man was safe for a minute, or could tell when he went to bed at night that he might not be arrested in the morning, all which was done by the King's personal orders; that there was continual danger of an outbreak or insurrection, particularly of a Muratist revolution. I told him my opinion of the very questionable policy of interference, either as a matter of right or of expediency, and nothing could be more lame than the case he made out. He said the ships were not to act any hostile part, or to coerce the King, which makes the case worse in my opinion. It is doing neither one thing nor the other, violating a sound principle, and incurring great future risks without any present object, or effecting any good, or benefiting the people in whom we take an interest. He says the Emperor Napoleon has a great horror of a Muratist movement, the Prince Murat, his cousin, being a most worthless blackguard; but his son, who married Berthier's granddaughter and heiress, is a young man full of merit of every sort.

London, October 10th.—I met Clarendon again at the Travellers', and had some conversation with him, but was interrupted by Azeglio, or I might probably have learnt more about the present state of affairs. He told me that we had been squabbling with the French Government, and that the persevering attempts of Russia to disturb the harmony between us and them had not been unsuccessful. Nothing in the way of cajolery had been omitted at Moscow to captivate the French, while on one occasion the Emperor had been so uncivil that Granville felt himself obliged to go to Gortschakoff and make a formal complaint, which was met by all sorts of assurances and protestations in order to mollify him, and after this everything went on smoothly. It is a curious state of things, for as far as I can make it out, the policy of the French Government appears to be to become intimate with Russia and to be cool with us; but all the time the Emperor (who is the Government) shrinks from anything like a breach with England, and clings to the intimacy established between the two Courts, and has a profound respect for the Queen and value for her good opinion. I asked him how he reconciled the offensive Circular of Gortschakoff with the anxiety of Russia to please France, when he said that he had no doubt they had told the French that it was aimed exclusively at us, and had come to an understanding with Morny about it, so that France was not to take offence at it. We are now, he said, on the best terms with Austria, and Austria on the worst with Russia. Russia knows that the article of the treaty compelling her to surrender a part of Bessarabia was the work of Austria, and this was an injury and an insult (for she had never before disgorged territory) which she never would forgive. The Russian Circular would have the effect of complicating the Neapolitan question, as it made the King more resolved not to yield to the demands of the two Powers. He told me that Palmerston had resolved to take up in earnest the question of Law Reform next year, and that he (Clarendon) had strongly urged him to do so as the best way of procuring both strength and credit for his Government; that Palmerston had readily come into it, and was resolved to carry out those measures which have so long been under discussion, and which for various reasons have hitherto failed of their accomplishment.

November 10th.—I went to The Grove on Saturday and had a good deal of comfortable talk with Clarendon about foreign affairs, especially the Bolgrad question and Naples. He described the former very clearly, and satisfied me that we are entirely in the right. It was settled, he said, at Paris mainly between him and Orloff. He drew the line on the map as the boundary had been agreed upon, and as he was doing so, Orloff said, 'I wish you would draw it a little more to the south; it will make no sort of difference to you, and by this means it includes within our line a strip of territory which the Emperor wishes to retain because it forms a part of a military colony which he is anxious to keep intact;' and Clarendon agreed to draw the line accordingly and to accomplish the Emperor's wishes. They have since attempted to quibble about another Bolgrad which was not even marked at all on their map, and it turns out that the story of the military colony was a mere pretence, as they have themselves given that up without making any difficulty. The state of the case and the difference which has since arisen with Russia and with France is this: the Emperor Napoleon, who is very indolent and abhors the trouble of examining details, and consequently remains often ignorant of what it behoves him to know, suffered himself to be bamboozled by Brunnow and misled by Walewski into giving his assent to the Russian interpretation of the boundary line, and to giving a promise of his support in the controversy. Recently at Compi�gne Cowley, in a long audience, went through the whole question with him and minutely explained the case against Russia. The Emperor said he had never really understood it before, acknowledged that our case was good, regretted that he had committed himself, but said that having pledged his word he did not know how to break that pledge and to withdraw the support he had promised to give to Russia in the dispute, and this is the fix in which the question now is. While the foolish and ignorant newspapers here (except the 'Times') are endeavouring to separate the Emperor from his ministers, and to make out that he is one with our Government, and that the difficulties and obstructions proceed from other parties, the truth is that they now proceed entirely from himself, worked upon and deceived certainly by Russian agents and pro-Russian ministers; but if he really was in the disposition which our press attributes to him, he might break through such obligations as he suffered himself to be entangled in and settle the question at once; nor is it very easy to see why he does not, for there is good reason to believe he is sincerely desirous of remaining on good terms with us. I asked Clarendon why the question could not be again referred to a Conference of the Powers parties to the Treaty, and he said we could not consent to this, because we should be in a minority, for Sardinia, partly cajoled by Russia and partly from antipathy to Austria, would go against us.

I asked him about Naples, of which affair he could give but a very unsatisfactory account and a lame story. He said France had acted with us very steadily, but that it was she who had started this hare, and he had engaged in it in the belief that the Emperor would never have mooted the question unless he had been assured that the King of Naples would yield to the remonstrances of the two Courts, and but for that conviction he would never have meddled in it, which he now very much regretted. He had given Carini notice to quit, and at their parting interview he had entreated him to persuade the King if possible to change his system, and, now that he was relieved from all interference, menace, or coercion, and his dignity could not suffer, to give satisfaction to all Europe by putting an end to the inhuman and impolitic system, which had occasioned our interference and had drawn upon him remonstrances and advice from every Sovereign in Europe. Very good advice, and I hope it may be followed, but it is a lame and impotent conclusion to the menacing demonstrations with which we began to quarrel. Clarendon talked of the various atrocities of the King of Naples, but with an evident consciousness that the fact, even if it be true, and not, as is probable, exaggerated, affords no excuse for our policy in the matter. As the subject could not be agreeable I did not press it, and abstained from telling him how general the opinion is that he has committed a great blunder. He will probably hear enough of it before the chapter is closed; even Granville, who never says much, said to me yesterday that 'it was a very foolish affair.'

Clarendon talked to me of Palmerston, and told me (what I think I had heard, and have very likely noted before) that on Aberdeen's fall Palmerston was quite ready to join Derby when Derby tried to form a Government, and that it was Clarendon's refusal which frustrated that attempt. Palmerston endeavoured to persuade Clarendon to join, but when Clarendon put to him all the reasons why they had both of them better refuse, Palmerston saw them all very clearly, and rather imprudently said on leaving him, 'We are both agreed that it will not do to have anything to do with Derby and his Government.' When Clarendon went to the Queen and explained his own conduct to her, and she expressed to him the embarrassment which she felt, and asked him what she could do, he at once said, 'Send for Lord Palmerston, who is the only man, in the present temper of the people and state of affairs, who can form a Government that has a chance of standing. Send for him at once, place yourself entirely in his hands, give him your entire confidence, and I will answer for his conduct being all that you can desire.' The Queen took the advice, and has had no reason to repent of it, and Clarendon told me he had done everything in his power, and seized every available opportunity to reconcile them to each other, to promote a good feeling and understanding, and to soften any little asperities which might have made their intercourse less smooth, and the consequence is that Palmerston gets on with her very well, and his good sense as well as Clarendon's exhortations make him see of what importance it is to him for the easy working of his Government and his own ease to be on good and cordial terms with the Queen. It is therefore really to Clarendon that Palmerston is indebted in great measure, if not entirely, for being in his present position, but Clarendon has too much tact ever to remind him of it, or of what he was himself inclined to do in 1855.

November 19th.—The death of Jervis made the office of Chief Justice of Common Pleas vacant.[1] According to established (but as I think bad) usage, the Attorney-General, Cockburn, had a right to take the place, and for the last fortnight nothing occupied public attention more than the question whether he would take it or not. He was much averse to take it, but everybody pressed him to accept it, and after much hesitation and consultation he agreed to be Chief Justice, and now it is said he regrets his determination and thinks he has made a mistake. He gives up Parliament, for which he is well adapted, where he acts a conspicuous part, being a capital speaker, and which he likes, and feels that it is his element. He gives up the highest place at the bar, where he is a successful advocate, and makes 15,000l. or 16,000l. a year, and he sees that he shall be obliged to give up in great measure his loose habits and assume more decorous behaviour, which will be a great sacrifice to him, and he becomes a judge with 6,000l. a year for life, not being a good lawyer, and conscious that he will be inferior to his colleagues and to the Puisne Judge in his own court. As soon as he had consented to the promotion a fresh difficulty presented itself as to the office of Solicitor-General, for such is the penury of legal ability at this time that Westminster Hall cannot furnish any men of unquestionable fitness for the office, and the difficulty is increased by the choice being necessarily restricted to men holding the opinions of the present Government, and being able to command a seat in Parliament. They have offered the place to the Recorder, James Wortley, but up to this moment I know not if it has been accepted.[2]

November 23rd.—After long delay and apparently much hesitation James Wortley has accepted the Solicitor-Generalship. He consulted Gladstone and Sidney Herbert, neither of them very eligible advisers on such a question. Gladstone is said to have replied that he would run a great risk as to his pecuniary interests, but if he could support the foreign policy of the Government, there was no reason why he should not accept. He retains his rank of Privy Councillor, of which I doubt the fitness, as it places him at all events in a very anomalous position, for the law officers are the official advisers of the Privy Council and are often called upon to sit there as assessors. However, the Judges are said to have pronounced an opinion that there is no reason why he should not plead in any of the courts. It is said, and I believe truly, that now Cockburn has taken the irretrievable step he is very sorry for it, and is more struck by the necessary consequences of his promotion than he was at first. He has all his life been a very debauched fellow, but he is clever, good-natured, and of a liberal disposition and much liked by his friends. A story is told of him that he was in the habit of going down on Sundays to Richmond or elsewhere with a woman, and generally with a different one, and the landlady of the inn he went to remembered that Sir A. Cockburn always brought Lady Cockburn with him, but that she never saw any woman who looked so different on different days, and this gave rise to another story. When Lord Campbell went to some such place with Lady Stratheden (who had been raised to the peerage before her husband), the mistress of the house said that Sir A. Cockburn always brought Lady Cockburn with him, but that the Chief Justice brought another lady and not Lady Campbell.

While we have meetings perpetually held and innumerable writings put forth to promote education and raise the moral standard of the people, we are horrified and alarmed day after day by accounts of the most frightful murders, colossal frauds, and crimes of every description. War has ceased, though the Temple of Janus seems only to be ajar; but the world is still in commotion, in alarm, and visited by every sort of calamity, moral and material, in the midst of which it is difficult to discover any signs of the improvement of the human race, even of those portions of it which are supposed to be the most civilised and the most progressive.

December 7th.—At Wrotham and at Ossington last week. The news of the day is that we are to have another 'Conference' at Paris, to settle the Bolgrad affair, our Government having given way to what Clarendon told me he certainly would not consent; but we had managed to get matters into such a fix, and it was so necessary to extricate all the several parties from the embarrassed positions in which they were placed by their own or by each other's faults, that no alternative remained. This arrangement, which is not very consistent with Palmerston's recent declarations at Manchester and in London, is proclaimed by the Government papers, and generally understood to be a means of enabling Russia to concede our demands with as little loss of dignity and credit as possible, and to terminate the difference between us and France by our making an apparent concession to France, while she makes a real one to us. Everything has evidently been carefully arranged for the playing out of this diplomatic farce, and Cowley, who is to be our sole representative, is to be accommodating and not quarrelsome; but reste � savoir whether the manœuvres of some of the others may not provoke his temper and bring about angry collisions. Between this matter and the b�vue we have made of our Neapolitan interference, never was there such a deplorable exhibition as our foreign policy displays; but nobody seems to care much about it, and though there will in all probability be a good deal of sparring, and taunts and sneers in Parliament, Palmerston's Government will incur no danger of any adverse vote, for everybody is conscious that in the actual state of parties and the dearth of parliamentary leaders, every man of sufficient ability being disqualified for one reason or another, no man but Palmerston can conduct a Government or command a majority in Parliament; nor does there appear in the distance any man likely to be able to fill his place in the event of his death or his breaking down, events which must be contemplated as not very remote when he is seventy-three years old, although his wonderful constitution and superhuman vigour of mind and body make everybody forget his age and regard the possibility of his demise with the sort of incredulity which made the courtier of Louis XIV. exclaim on the death of that monarch, 'Apr�s la mort du Roi on peut tout croire.'

Great astonishment has been excited by the appointment of a Mr. Bickersteth as Bishop of Ripon, against whom nothing can be said, nor anything for him, except that he is a very Low Churchman. All the vacant sees have now been filled with clergymen of this colour, which is not very fair or prudent, as it will exasperate the moderate High Churchmen and set them strongly against a Government which appears determined to shut the door of ecclesiastical preferment against all but the Lowest Churchmen, and such a policy will most likely have the effect of encouraging the advocates of those extreme measures of an anti-Catholic or a puritanical character which always give so much trouble and embarrassment when they are brought forward in Parliament.

December 12th.—The Conference to which Clarendon told me he would not agree is going to take place after all, but everybody is ridiculing what is notoriously a got-up comedy with a foregone conclusion, devised to solve the difficulty into which all the great actors had got themselves, but it is not yet quite clear what the modus operandi is to be. From what I have picked up here and there I gather that Sardinia is to be induced to give a casting vote against Russia, leaving France still at liberty to fulfil her original engagement and vote with her, while we obtain the object for which we have stood out, and by such a dodge to bring the dispute to an end. When Parliament meets there will be plenty to be said about this affair and about Naples, and no doubt the Opposition or the malcontents will be able to bombard the Government and vent their spleen, but that will be all, for Palmerston is perfectly invulnerable and may commit any blunders with impunity.

A report has been lately current that Gladstone will become the leader of the Opposition vice Disraeli, a report I thought quite wild and improbable, but I heard the other day something which looks as if it was not so much out of the question as I had imagined. George Byng told me he had met Sir William Jolliffe, who is the Derbyite whipper-in, at Wrotham, and having asked him whether there was any foundation for the above report, he replied that it certainly was not true at present, that he could not say what might or might not happen hereafter, but that he could not at once be accepted as leader, and must in any case first serve in the ranks. I do not know what may be the value of Jolliffe's opinions, or what he knows of the intentions of his chief, but he may probably be more or less acquainted with the sentiments of his party, and may be aware that their necessities have modified their extreme repugnance to Gladstone, and that they may now be willing to accept him as leader (eventually), though two years ago they so peremptorily insisted on his entire exclusion from their political society. Meanwhile there is no combination amongst them. Derby is at Knowsley amusing himself, and Disraeli at Paris, doing nobody knows what.

There is talk of Lord Granville's resigning the lead and his office and going to Ireland instead of Carlisle, or to Paris instead of Cowley, but he has never intimated the least intention of doing either. Ireland he certainly will not go to; Paris is not so impossible. There seems some doubt whether his health will admit of his going on in the House of Lords, and if they knew how to get Cowley away from Paris without doing him an injustice or an unkindness, I think they would not be sorry, for his position there is unsatisfactory. It is a serious inconvenience to be on such terms with Walewski that they never converse at all except when business obliges them to meet, and the consequence of their relations is that all affairs between the two countries are carried on between Clarendon and Persigny in London, and as little as possible at Paris, because the Emperor now fights rather shy of Cowley, and is by no means on the same terms with him as heretofore, though always very civil and cordial enough when they meet; and His Majesty will not part with Walewski, who, although of a moderate capacity, is clever enough to know how to deal with his master, and make himself agreeable to him, and the Emperor knows that if he were to change his Minister for Foreign Affairs, it would be attributed to the influence of England and be on that account unpopular. The English press has rendered Walewski the incalculable service of making him popular in France, and rendering it impossible for the Emperor to dismiss him, even if he had a mind to do so, which he has not.

December 17th.—There was an article in the 'Times' the day before yesterday commenting in severe terms upon a transaction of our Foreign Office, as set forth in a Blue Book, in relation to Brazil. It was the old subject of the slave trade, and the old method of arrogant overbearing meddling and dictation, a case as odious and unjust as any one of those by which Palmerston's foreign administration has ever been disgraced. I really no longer recognise my old friend Clarendon, in whose good sense and moderation I used to place implicit confidence, and believed that he would inaugurate a system at the Foreign Office very different from that of Palmerston, and which would tend to relieve us from the excessive odium and universal unpopularity which Palmerston had drawn upon us. It appears that I was mistaken. I told Granville yesterday morning what I thought of this case, and asked him if it was correctly stated. He said he regarded it just as I did, and that it was quite true, every word of it. I then expressed my astonishment that Clarendon should have acted in this way, and he replied, 'The fault of Clarendon is that he is always thinking of the effect to be produced by Blue Books, and he looks after popularity, and is influenced by those he acts with. Under Aberdeen he was very moderate, but he saw that the moderation of Aberdeen made him unpopular, while Palmerston's popularity in great measure arose from his very different manner towards other Powers, so when Palmerston became Prime Minister instead of Aberdeen, he fell readily into the Palmerstonian method.' I dare say this is the truth, and besides the contagion of Palmerston himself, he is surrounded by men at the Foreign Office who are prodigious admirers of Palmerston and of his slashing ways, and who no doubt constantly urge Clarendon to adopt a similar style. All this is to me matter of great regret personally, and it is revolting as to good taste, and, as I believe, to our national interests. It is, however, a consolation to see that the most powerful and influential of our journals has the courage, independence, and good sense to protest publicly against such violent and unjustifiable proceedings.

CHAPTER XIII.

State of England after the War—Prussia and Neufch�tel—Sir Robert Peel's Account of the Russian Coronation—An Historical Puzzle—The Death of Princess Lieven—Mr. Spurgeon's Preaching—Mr. Gladstone in Opposition—Tit for Tat—Difficult Relations with France—Lord John in Opposition—The Liddell v. Westerton Case—Death of Lord Ellesmere—Violent Opposition to the Government on the China Question—Languid Defence of the Government—Impending Dissolution—Popularity of Lord Palmerston—Despotism of Ministers—Parliament dissolved—Judgement on Liddell v. Westerton—Lord Palmerston's Address—The Elections—Defeat of the Manchester Leaders—Fear of Radical Tendencies—The Country approves the Chinese Policy—Death of Lady Keith.

January 9th, 1857.—The old year ended and the new year began strangely. After three years of expensive war the balance-sheet exhibited such a state of wealth and prosperity as may well make us 'the envy of surrounding nations;' but while we have recovered the great blessing of peace, we have to look back upon a year stained beyond all precedent with frightful crimes of every sort and kind: horrible murders, enormous frauds, and scandalous robberies and defalcations. The whole attention of the country is now drawn to the social questions which press upon us with appalling urgency, and the next session of Parliament, which is rapidly advancing, must be principally engaged in the endeavour to find remedies for the evils and dangers incident to our corrupted population, and our erroneous and inadequate penal system, the evils and dangers of which threaten to become greater and more difficult to remedy every day. From this question it is impossible to dissever that of education, for at least we ought to make the experiment whether the diffusion of education will or will not be conducive to the diminution of crime, and we shall see whether the sectarian prejudices, the strength and obstinacy of which have hitherto erected impassable barriers to the progress of educating the people, will retain all their obstinacy in the face of the existing evil, or whether the bodily fear and the universal persuasion of the magnitude and imminence of the danger will not operate upon bigotry itself and render the masses more reasonable. Besides these important questions the new year opens with a most unpleasant prospect abroad, where everything seems to go wrong and our foreign relations, be the cause what, or the fault whose it may, to be in a very unhappy state.

The quarrel between Prussia and Switzerland[1] is one in which we appear to have no immediate interest, except that it is always our interest to prevent any infraction of the general peace, but of course we could not think of not interfering in some way or other in the matter. The King of Prussia has behaved as ill and as foolishly as possible, and our Government entirely disapprove of his conduct and have given the Swiss to understand that all our sympathies are with them, and that we think they have right on their side. If France and England were now on really good terms, and would act together with cordiality and authority, nothing would be so easy as to put a prompt extinguisher on the Swiss affair; but as we cannot agree upon a common course of action, there is danger of the dispute drifting into a war, though it is evidently so much the interest and the desire of the Emperor Napoleon to allow no shots to be fired, that I still expect, even at this almost the eleventh hour, to be in a complete fix. The Swiss will not release the prisoners unless the King will at the same time abandon his claims on Neufch�tel, or unless England and France will guarantee that he will do so. The King will do nothing and agree to nothing unless the Swiss will previously and unconditionally release the prisoners, and moreover he repudiates our intervention, as he thinks us unfairly disposed to himself. The simplest course would be for England and France to declare that a Prussian invasion of Switzerland should be a casus belli, and I think we should have no objection to this, but France won't go along with us. Then if the Swiss should deliver over the prisoners to France, and she would accept the dep�t, all might be settled. As it is, we have backed up Switzerland to resist, and if war ensues we shall leave her to her fate—a very inglorious course to pursue; and although I have a horror of war, and am alive to the policy of keeping well with France, I am inclined to think that having encouraged the Swiss to a certain point it would better become us to take our own independent line and to threaten Prussia with war if she does not leave Switzerland alone, than to sit tamely by and see her, unimpeded, execute her threats. The Government are evidently much embarrassed by this question, which is still further complicated by the matrimonial engagement between the two Royal families.

January 13th.—The Swiss affair seems settled, so far at least that there will be no war. The prisoners will be released, but I dare say the King of Prussia will chicaner about the abdication of his rights over Neufch�tel. All the world is occupied with Sir Robert Peel's speech, or lecture as he terms it, at Birmingham, where he gave an account, meant to be witty, of his s�jour in Russia and its incidents. It was received with shouts of applause by a congenial Brummagem audience, and by deep disapprobation in every decent society and by all reasonable people.

January 14th.—I met Clarendon last night, who told me the Swiss question was still in doubt, for the King was shuffling and would probably play them a trick, and though he knew the prisoners were going to be liberated, he would not engage positively to give up his claim. The Emperor Napoleon has behaved very ill and ungratefully to the Swiss, who in consequence were more irritated against him than against the King of Prussia himself. Nothing could equal the fawning flattery and servility of the King to the Emperor, who was at the same time tickled by it and disgusted.

January 20th.—At Woburn for two days. I found the Duke entirely occupied with a question (on which he had of course a various correspondence), whether when Aberdeen's Government was formed, Aberdeen had at the time imparted to John Russell his wish and intention to retire as soon as possible, so that John might take his place as Premier. To ascertain this fact, he had applied to Lord John and Aberdeen, to Lansdowne and to Clarendon, all of whom he invited to send him their recollections and impressions, which they did. The matter now is not of much importance, but is worth noticing from the evidence it affords of the difficulty of arriving at truth, and therefore of the fallibility of all history. Though this circumstance is so recent, and at the time was so important, not one of the parties, neither Lord John nor Aberdeen nor the other two, can recollect what did pass, but as they all concur in their impressions that no such engagement was given when the Government was formed, it may safely be concluded that this is the truth. I know I heard all that passed, and certainly I never heard of any such intention, though I did hear some time afterwards that such had been Aberdeen's expressed wish and Lord John's expectation. I read Aberdeen's letters, in which he entered into other matters connected with his Government, and I must say more creditable, gentlemanlike, and amiable letters I never read.

January 28th.—At Stoke from Saturday to Monday. On returning to town, we heard that the Persian war was over, Palmerston's usual luck bringing a settlement of the only question that could be embarrassing on the eve of the meeting of Parliament. But the news only comes telegraphically, so unless confirmed must be doubtful, and cannot be named in the Speech.[1]

Two remarkable deaths have occurred, one of which touches me nearly, that of Madame de Lieven; the other is that of the Duke of Rutland. Madame de Lieven died, after a short illness, of a severe attack of bronchitis, the Duke having lingered for many months. Very different characters. Madame de Lieven came to this country at the end of 1812 or beginning of 1813 on the war breaking out between Russia and France. Pozzo di Borgo had preceded the Lievens to renew diplomatic relations and make arrangements with us. She was at that time young, at least in the prime of life, and though without any pretensions to beauty, and indeed with some personal defects, she had so fine an air and manner, and a countenance so pretty and so full of intelligence, as to be on the whole a very striking and attractive person, quite enough so to have lovers, several of whom she engaged in succession without seriously attaching herself to any. Those who were most notoriously her slaves at different times were the present Lord Willoughby, the Duke of Sutherland (then Lord Gower), the Duke of Cannizzaro (then Count St. Antonio), and the Duke of Palmella, who was particularly clever and agreeable. Madame de Lieven was a tr�s grande dame, with abilities of a very fine order, great tact and finesse, and taking a boundless pleasure in the society of the great world and in political affairs of every sort. People here were not slow to acknowledge her merits and social excellence, and she almost immediately took her place in the cream of the cream of English society, forming close intimacies with the most conspicuous women in it, and assiduously cultivating relations with the most remarkable men of all parties. These personal liaisons sometimes led her into political partisanship not always prudent and rather inconsistent with her position, character, and functions here. But I do not believe she was ever mixed up in any intrigues, nor even, at a later period, that she was justly obnoxious to the charge of caballing and mischief-making which has been so lavishly cast upon her. She had an insatiable curiosity for political information, and a not unnatural desire to make herself useful and agreeable to her own Court by imparting to her Imperial masters and mistresses all the information she acquired and the anecdotes she picked up. Accordingly while she was in England, which, was from 1812 to 1834, she devoted herself to society, not without selection, but without exclusion, except that she sought and habitually confined herself to the highest and best. The Regent, afterwards George IV., delighted in her company, and she was a frequent guest at the Pavilion, and on very intimate terms with Lady Conyngham, for although Madame de Lieven was not very tolerant of mediocrity, and social and colloquial superiority was necessary to her existence, she always made great allowances for Royalty and those immediately connected with it. She used to be a great deal at Oatlands, and was one of the few intimate friends of the Duchess of York, herself very intelligent, and who therefore had in the eyes of Madame de Lieven the double charm of her position and her agreeableness. It was her duty as well as her inclination to cultivate the members of all the successive Cabinets which passed before her, and she became the friend of Lord Castlereagh, of Canning, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Grey, Lord Palmerston, John Russell, Aberdeen, and many others of inferior note, and she was likewise one of the habitu�s of Holland House, which was always more or less neutral ground, even when Lord Holland was himself a member of the government. When Talleyrand came over here as Ambassador, there was for some time a sort of antagonism between the two embassies, and particularly between the ladies of each, but Madame de Dino (now Duchesse de Sagan) was so clever, and old Talleyrand himself so remarkable and so agreeable, that Madame de Lieven was irresistibly drawn towards them, and for the last year or two of their being in England they became extremely intimate; but her greatest friend in England was Lady Cowper, afterwards Lady Palmerston, and through her she was also the friend of Palmerston, who was also well affected towards Russia, till his jealous and suspicious mind was inflamed by his absurd notion of her intention to attack us in India, a crotchet which led us into the folly and disaster of the Afghan war. In 1834 the Lievens were recalled, and she was established at St. Petersburg in high favour about the Empress, but her s�jour there was odious to her, and she was inconsolable at leaving England, where after a residence of above twenty years she had become rooted in habits and affections, although she never really and completely understood the country. She remained at St. Petersburg for several months, until her two youngest children were taken ill, and died almost at the same time. This dreadful blow, and the danger of the severe climate to her own health, gave her a valid excuse for desiring leave of absence, and she left Russia never to return. She went to Italy, where M. de Lieven died about the year 1836 or 1837, after which she established herself in Paris, where her salon became the rendezvous of the best society, and particularly the neutral ground on which eminent men and politicians of all colours could meet, and where her tact and adroitness made them congregate in a sort of social truce.

I do not know at what exact period it was that she made the acquaintance of M. Guizot, but their intimacy no doubt was established after he had begun to play a great political part, for his literary and philosophical celebrity would not alone have had much charm for her. They were, however, already great friends at the time of his embassy to England, and she took that opportunity of coming here to pay a visit to her old friends. The fall of Thiers' Government and Guizot's becoming Minister for Foreign Affairs of course drew Madame de Lieven still more closely to him, and during the whole of his administration their alliance continued to be of the closest and most intimate character. It was an immense object to her to possess the entire confidence of the French Minister for Foreign Affairs, who kept her au courant of all that was going on in the political world, while it is not surprising that he should be irresistibly attracted by a woman immensely superior to any other of his acquaintance, who was fully able to comprehend and willing to interest herself about all the grand and important subjects which he had to handle and manage, and who associated herself with a complete sympathy in all his political interests. Their liaison, which some people consider mysterious, but which I believe to have been entirely social and political, grew constantly more close, and every moment that Guizot could snatch from the Foreign Office and the Chamber he devoted to Madame de Lieven. He used to go there regularly three times a day on his way to and his way from the Chamber, when it was sitting, and in the evening; but while he was by far her first object, she cultivated the society of all the most conspicuous and remarkable people whom she could collect about her, and she was at one time very intimate with Thiers, though his rivalry with Guizot and their intense hatred of each other eventually produced a complete estrangement between her and Thiers.