ointed Governor-General of India. In February, Fitzjames dined in his
company at Lord Arthur Russell's. They went afterwards to the
'Cosmopolitan,' and by the end of the evening had formed a close
friendship, which was only to end with their lives. Some of Fitzjames's
friends were surprised at the singular strength of attachment between
two men so conspicuously different in mind and character. Some
contrasts, as everyone observes, rather facilitate than impede
friendship; but in this case the opposition might seem to be too
decided. The explanation is not, I think, difficult. Lord Lytton, in the
first place, was a singularly charming person. He was not only a
delightful companion, but he was delightful because obviously
open-hearted, enthusiastic, and exceedingly affectionate. To such charms
Fitzjames was no more obdurate than his fellows. Lord Lytton, it is
true, was essentially a man of letters; he was a poet and a writer of
facile and brilliant prose; and Fitzjames acknowledged, or rather
claimed, a comparative insensibility to excellence of that kind. Upon
some faults, often combined with a literary temperament, he was perhaps
inclined to be rather too severe. He could feel nothing but hearty
contempt for a man who lapped himself in aesthetic indulgences, and
boasted of luxurious indifference to the great problems of the day. Such
an excess of sensibility, again, as makes a man nervously unwilling to
reveal his real thoughts, or to take part in a frank discussion of
principles, would be an obstacle to intimacy. Fitzjames might not
improbably decline to take the trouble necessary to soothe the vanity,
or thaw the shyness of such a person, and might perhaps too hastily set
him down for a coward or a 'poor creature.' But when, as was often the
case, the sensitive person was encouraged to openness by Fitzjames's
downright ways, the implied compliment would be fully recognised. Lord
Lytton, as an accomplished man of the world, was of course free from any
awkward bashfulness; and at the very first interview was ready to meet
Fitzjames half-way. His enthusiasm accordingly met with a rapid return.
One of Fitzjames's favourite assertions was that nobody but a humbug
could deny the pleasantness of flattery; and, in fact, I think that we
all like it till we discover it to be flattery. What he really meant was
that he liked downright, open-hearted and perfectly sincere praise; and
both parties to this alliance could praise each o