The public knew that it had in Lord Palmerston not only a high-mettled master, but also a devoted servant--that he was, in every sense of the word, a public man.

When he was Prime Minister, he noticed that iron hurdles had been put up on the grass in the Green Park; he immediately wrote to the Minister responsible, ordering, in the severest language, their instant removal, declaring that they were "an intolerable nuisance," and that the purpose of the grass was "to be walked upon freely and without restraint by the people, old and young, for whose enjoyment the parks are maintained." It was in this spirit that, as Foreign Secretary, he watched over the interests of Englishmen abroad.

Nothing could be more agreeable for Englishmen; but foreign governments were less pleased.

They found Lord Palmerston interfering, exasperating, and alarming.

In Paris they spoke with bated breath of "ce terrible milord Palmerston;" and in Germany they made a little song about him-- "Hat der Teufel einen Sohn, So ist er sicher Palmerston." But their complaints, their threats, and their agitations were all in vain.