“. . . The great object of my curiosity at present is to see and get hold of our Ellice,* who is just fresh from Paris, after a residence of some time there. He has had two very distinguished playfellows there, with whom he has almost entirely lived—the first, Madame Lieven—the other, no less than Philippe, who could scarcely bear to have him out of his sight. Madame Lieven’s attachment to him was intelligible enough. She knows her man, and would be quite sure to know everything that he knows of Lord Durham and his mission—every secret (if they have any) of the present Government, and every opinion entertained by Lord Grey. What is the bond of union between the Bear† and the King of the French I am yet to learn. . . . Ellice is very vain (and who is not?); he is a sieve, and so much the more agreeable for those who squeeze him. . . . What say you to our own Stanley? was there ever such a case of suicide? I really think if I saw him in the street I should try to avoid him to save his blushes; yet perhaps such things are unknown to him.”
