Collections and Recollections | Page 7

surpassed. He had the happy knack of expressing a judgment which
might be antagonistic to the sentiments of those with whom he was
dealing in language which, while perfectly void of offence, was calmly
decisive. His reply to Sir Francis Burdett was pronounced by Mr.
Gladstone to be the best repartee ever made in Parliament. Sir Francis,
an ex-Radical, attacking his former associates with all the bitterness of
a renegade, had said, "The most offensive thing in the world is the cant
of Patriotism." Lord John replied, "I quite agree that the cant of
Patriotism is a very offensive thing; but the recant of Patriotism is more
offensive still." His letter to the Dean of Hereford about the election of
Bishop Hampden is a classical instance of courteous controversy. Once
a most Illustrious Personage asked him if it was true that he taught that

under certain circumstances it was lawful for a subject to disobey the
Sovereign. "Well, speaking to a Sovereign of the House of Hanover, I
can only answer in the affirmative."
His copiousness of anecdote was inexhaustible. His stories always
fitted the point, and the droll gravity of his way of telling them added
greatly to their zest. Of his conversation with Napoleon at Elba I
recollect one curious question and answer. The Emperor took the little
Englishman by the ear and asked him what was thought in England of
his chances of returning to the throne of France. "I said, 'Sire, they
think you have no chance at all.'" The Emperor said that the English
Government had made a great mistake in sending the Duke of
Wellington to Paris--"On n'aime pas voir un homme par qui on a été
battu;" and on War he made this characteristic comment: "Eh bien, c'est
un grand jeu--belle occupation."
This interview took place when Lord John was making a tour with Lord
and Lady Holland, and much of his earlier life had been spent at
Holland House, in the heart of that brilliant society which Macaulay so
picturesquely described, and in which Luttrell and Samuel Rogers were
conspicuous figures. Their conversation supplied Lord John with an
anecdote which he used to bring out, with a twinkling eye and a
chuckling laugh, whenever he heard that any public reform was
regarded with misgiving by sensible men. Luttrell and Rogers were
passing in a wherry under old London Bridge when its destruction Was
contemplated, and Rogers said, "Some very sensible men think that, if
these works are carried into effect, the tide will flow so rapidly under
the bridge that dangerous consequences will follow." "My dear
Rogers," answered Luttrell, "if some very sensible men had been
attended to, we should still be eating acorns."
Of William and John Scott, afterwards Lord Stowell and Lord Eldon,
Lord Russell used to tell with infinite zest a story which he declared to
be highly characteristic of the methods by which they made their
fortunes and position. When they were young men at the Bar, having
had a stroke of professional luck, they determined to celebrate the
occasion by having a dinner at a tavern and going to the play. When it

was time to call for the reckoning, William Scott dropped a guinea. He
and his brother searched for it in vain, and came to the conclusion that
it had fallen between the boards of the uncarpeted floor.
"This is a bad job," said William; "we must give up the play."
"Stop a bit," said John; "I know a trick worth two of that," and called
the waitress.
"Betty," said he, "we've dropped two guineas. See if you can find
them." Betty went down on her hands and knees, and found the one
guinea, which had rolled under the fender.
"That's a very good girl, Betty," said John Scott, pocketing the coin;
"and when you find the other you can keep it for your trouble." And the
prudent brothers went with a light heart to the play, and so eventually
to the Bench and the Woolsack.
In spite of profound differences of political opinion, Lord Russell had a
high regard for the memory of the Duke of Wellington, and had been
much in his society in early life. Travelling in the Peninsula in 1812, he
visited Lord Wellington at his headquarters near Burgos. On the
morning after his arrival he rode out with his host and an aide-de-camp,
and surveyed the position of the French army. Lord Wellington,
peering through his glass, suddenly exclaimed, "By G----! they've
changed their position!" and said no more.
When they returned from their ride, the aide-de-camp said to Lord John,
"You had better get away as quick as you can. I am confident that Lord
Wellington means to make a move." Lord John took the hint, made his
excuses, and went