ormidable
interrogatory is that, although no one can defend the conduct of
Delilah, it was certainly most unwise of Samson to trust her with his
secret. It is consolatory to know that, under the influence of Sir John
Shelley's tact and good-humour, a treaty of peace was eventually
concluded. Sir John happened to meet the Duke at a party.
"'Good-evening, Duke,' said Sir John, in his most winning manner. 'Do
you know, it has been said, by some one who must have been present, that
the cackling of geese once saved Rome. I have been thinking that perhaps
the cackling of my old Goose may yet save England!' This wholly
unexpected sally proved too much for the Duke, who burst out into a
hearty laugh. 'By G----d, Shelley!' said he, 'you are right: give me
your honest hand.'" The Duke then returned to Apsley House and "penned a
playful letter to Lady Shelley."

It is not to be expected that much of real historical interest can be
extracted from a Diary of this sort. It may, however, be noted that when
the _Bellerophon_ reached the English coast "it was only by coercion
that the Ministers prevented George IV. from receiving Bonaparte. The
King wanted to hold him as a captive." Moreover, Brougham, who was in a
position to know, said, "There can be little doubt that if Bonaparte had
got to London, the Whig Opposition were ready to use him as their trump
card to overturn the Government."

The main interest in the book, however, lies in the light which it
throws on the Duke's inner life and in the characteristic _obiter dicta_
which he occasionally let fall. Of these, none is more characteristic
than the remark he made on meeting his former love, Miss Catherine
Pakenham, after an absence of eight years in India. He wrote to her,
making a proposal of marriage, but Miss Pakenham told him "that before
any engagement was made he must see her again; as she had grown old, had
lost all her good looks, and was a very different person to the girl he
had loved in former years." The story, which has been frequently
repeated, that Miss Pakenham was marked with the smallpox, is
untrue,[85] but, without doubt, during the Duke's absence, she had a
good deal changed. The Duke himself certainly thought so, for, on first
meeting her again, he whispered to his brother, "She has grown d----d
ugly, by Jove!" Nevertheless he married her, being moved to do so, not
apparently from any very deep feelings of affection, but because his
leading passion was a p