one another that, while at the beginning of it men could not travel faster than the Pharaohs, before the close of it electricity and steam had almost annihilated space and time; but they too frequently forget that the legislative and moral advance was as remarkable as the national progress, and that most of the reforms which were accomplished in this period owe their inception or their completion, more or less directly, to Lord John Russell.

In organic Reform Lord John accomplished almost all that he desired; and, in his old age, lived to see younger men push his principles to extremes which he had not contemplated, and which he did not wholly relish. He undoubtedly shared Lord Grey's desire to make the Reform Act a final measure; and he risked popularity and office-while Lord Melbourne's Administration lasted-for the sake of maintaining a settlement to which he considered himself pledged. In later years, when he again reverted to the subject, all his various proposals were framed on the model of the Act of 1832; and he seemed more anxious to amend any casual defects in that measure, or to extend its operation a little further, than to devise a large and comprehensive scheme of representative Reform. Hence, on ofganic questions, he displayed, in his later years, an almost conservative dislike of extensive changes; and he subjected himself to the reproach, or, as some people will think, to the praise, that he retained at eighty the opinions which he had successfully asserted at forty years of age. But on other matters his views enlarged with the increase of years. He displayed an unusual capacity, for an old man, to adapt himself to the conclusions of a younger generation; and, on questions connected with the Church, with education, with the treatment of crime, with the management of finance, and with the freedom of commerce, he could act at eighty, as he acted at forty, with those who were in the van of the Liberal party.

It is neither the wish nor the object of the present writer to prove that in what he thus did and thought Lord John was always right. He wrote himself in 1869, 'I have com

'mitted many errors, some of them very gross blunders;' and there are undoubtedly passages in his biography which show that he had no better claim than other men to infallibility. But even in those instances on which most people will think he was mistaken the publication of the Durham letter in 1850, the junction with Lord Aberdeen in 1852, and the unfortunate, and even disastrous, change of opinion in 1853-he acted on what he genuinely thought at the moment was the interest of the Church, the Crown, and the country. His head may have been in error, but his heart was sound.

Administrative ability unfortunately attracts less attention than Parliamentary eloquence, and the capacity which a man displays in his office is forgotten when the generation of those who work under him passes away. It would otherwise be remembered to Lord John's credit that no man in the present century has acquired greater reputation as a Minister. He was one of the best Secretaries of State that ever entered the Home Office; and, in his short career at the Colonial Office, he displayed a breadth of view and a sobriety of judg ment which promised to make him the greatest of Colonial Ministers. He was never satisfied with discharging the mere details of his office. His great speech on colonial policy in 1850, which is in reality an elaborate treatise on the rise, progress, and future of the colonies, is an eternal proof of the thoroughness with which he had thought out every portion of the subject; while the continuous efforts which he made at the Home Office for the more rational treatment of crime by the construction of better prisons, by the introduction of improved prison discipline, by the gradual abolition of transportation, and by the establishment of a rural police, again afford a decisive proof that his desire was not merely to administer, but to improve, what he found. Perhaps modern England owes as much to the improvements which he thus introduced as to the passage of the Reform Act.

As Foreign Minister Lord John displayed equally great qualities. No man ever fell on more critical times, and no man ever achieved a more brilliant success than Lord John's

Italian policy secured. His despatches on this question, and on other subjects, are, in many ways, remarkable. They frequently read like political essays rather than official documents, and they commonly contain the doctrines, or, as hostile critics would say, the platitudes, of the Whig creed. Some of them are unusually long. But their length is always attributable to the matter which they contain, and not to mere diffuseness of style. Few men of his generation could express so much by voice or pen in so few words as Lord John; and, on those occasions on which he was lengthy, it will almost invariably be found that he was so because he had a good deal to say, and not because he took a long time in saying it.

The characteristics which are visible in his despatches may be traced in his speeches. Many of them read like careful essays, pregnant with thought and matter. Occasionally, indeed, they teem with platitudes, which sound like extracts from a political commonplace book. But it is due to their author to remember that sentences which sound like platitudes now were far from being platitudes when they were first uttered. The doctrines which are accepted as truisms to-day have been made truisms by Lord John Russell's insistence.

It was, however, rather in debate than in exposition that Lord John showed to most advantage. His full mind, his mature knowledge, and his long practice made him a most capable debater. He rarely missed the strong point of his own case, or the weak point of his adversary's; and both in public discussion and in private conversation he had the knack of grappling with the centre of a subject which is as serviceable as it is unusual. He was, too, quick, as well as dexterous, in reply. Mr. Gladstone quoted his retort to Sir F. Burdett'The honourable member talks of the cant of patriotism; but there is something worse than the cant of patriotism, and that is the recant of patriotism'1—as an example of readiness in debate; while Sir Robert Peel said that, though bludgeons

1 The stcry is told in Mr. Frith's Memoirs, ii. 258. But the repartee had been given before in Fraser's Magazine for June 1845.

were not in Lord John's way, he can draw a rapier of the finest temper and polish, and run you through.1

There is one other characteristic in Lord John's speeches which deserves to be noticed. In the words of the late Sir William Heathcote, he never mingled in debate without raising its tone. His reasoning may be true or false; it may command or fail to secure consent. But the reader instinctively feels that the arguments come from a true man, who is expressing, not concealing, his real opinions, and who is labouring to the best of his judgment in the service of his country and mankind. His language is as transparent as his thoughts are clear. There is no false colour in his sentences, no base metal in his composition. Ring him where you will, he rings

true.

It was somewhere said of Lord John's speeches that, whatever effect they might have on the audience, they read better than those of other people; and, in fact, Lord John had physical defects which prevented him from taking the highest rank as an orator. His physique was weak. Mr. Sydney Smith told a Devonshire elector in the thirties who expressed surprise at Lord John's small stature that 'he was wasted in the service of his country;' while one of his own colleagues declared that it was strange to see 'so great a man so little.' Nor was his weak physique his only drawback; his voice was thin, his manner was awkward. It was humorously stated that, when he placed his left elbow on the palm of his right hand, the House awaited a sentiment in favour of civil and religious liberty.

In a very careful and on the whole appreciative article in Fraser's Magazine, in June 1845, the writer says

Notwithstanding the many points of excellence in his speeches, Lord John Russell's exterior and style of speaking are most disappointing. Remembering the pleasure he has given you on paper, and the prominent position he holds in the House of Commons, your first sensation on seeing and hearing him is that you must

1 I owe this saying and the succeeding one to Lord Coleridge.

have been misinformed. Can that little, quiet, fragile, modest, almost insignificant-looking man-so neat, plain, and formal, in his black coat and snow-white neckcloth, who sits with his legs crossed anyhow, and his hat overshading his small, sharp features till they are scarcely seen-can that be Lord John Russell? . . .

...

In a few moments he takes off his hat and rises from his seat, advancing to the table to speak. Now, for the first time, there is something that prepossesses. His head, though small, is finely shaped; it is a highly intellectual head, and the brow is wide and deep.. A moment more and you are struck with the proportions, though small, of his frame-his erect attitude, his chest expanded. You begin to perceive that a little man need not, of necessity, be insignificant. . . . He speaks for a time, and your disappointment returns. His voice is feeble in quality, and monotonous. It is thin, and there is a twang upon it which smacks of aristocratic affectation; but it is distinct. . . . He goes on in that strain, uttering a few of the most obvious commonplaces of apology or of deprecation, till the idea of mediocrity grows insensibly upon your mind. Wait a little. A cheer comes from the Opposition benches. . . . Nay, even on the Ministerial side the 'point' has not been without its effect, as many a suppressed titter testifies. All the level commonplace, it seems, was but the stringing of the bow; at the moment when least expected, the cool prepared marksman has shot his arrow of keen and polished sarcasm at Sir Robert Peel, whom it has fleshed, if not transfixed. . . . And then he proceeds during a speech of perhaps an hour and a half . . . now rousing his own side to cheers against their opponents, and now stimulating those opponents to laugh at or. suspect their own leaders; but always exhibiting power, self-possession, tact, skill, Parliamentary and political knowledge, command of language, and felicity of diction, surpassed but by few of the distinguished men of the day.

This description, written nearly half a century ago, admirably illustrates both Lord John's excellences and defects as an orator. Defects in the present day have a constant tendency to survive. For the history of the nineteenth century is largely written in its caricatures; and the caricaturist naturally exaggerates the peculiarities at which men laugh, and not the qualities which they applaud.

No man fills a larger place in caricature than Lord John Russell. The small stature, which testified to the frail body,