volume for the pleasure of seeing the lights of his burning glass turned on alternate sides of the same figure. Psychological study was still simple, and at worst—or at best—English character was never subtile. Surely no one would believe that complexity was the trait that confused the student of Palmerston, Russell and Gladstone. Under a very strong light human nature will always appear complex and full of contradictions, but the British statesman would appear, on the whole, among the least complex of men.
Complex these gentlemen were not. Disraeli alone might by contrast, be called complex, but Palmerston, Russell and Gladstone deceived only by their simplicity. Russell was the most interesting to a young man because his conduct seemed most statesmanlike. Every act of Russell, from April, 1861, to November, 1862, showed the clearest determination to break up the Union. The only point in Russell's character about which the student thought no doubt to be possible was its want of good faith. It was thoroughly dishonest but strong. Habitually Russell said one thing and did another. He seemed unconscious of his own ontradictions even when his opponents pointed them out, as they were much in the habit of doing, in the strongest language. As the student watched him deal with the Civil War in America, Russell alone showed persistence, even obstinacy, in a definite determination, which he supported, as was necessary, by the usual definite falsehoods. The young man did not complain of the falsehoods; on the contrary, he was vain of his own insight in detecting them; but he was wholly upset by the idea that Russell should think himself true.
Young Adams thought Earl Russell a statesman of the old school, clear about his objects and unscrupulous in his methods,—dishonest but strong. Russell ardently asserted that he had no objects, and that though he might be weak he was above all else honest. Minister Adams leaned to Russell personally and thought him true, but officially, in practice, treated him as false. Punch, before 1862, commonly drew Russell as a schoolboy telling lies, and afterwards as prematurely senile, at seventy. Education stopped there. No one, either in or out of England, ever offered a rational explanation of Earl Russell.
Palmerston was simple,—so simple as to mislead the student altogether,—but scarcely more consistent. The world thought him positive, decided,
