ys Mr.
Lecky, 'he gathered round him at Pembroke Lodge a society that could
hardly be equalled--certainly not surpassed--in England. In the summer
Sunday afternoons there might be seen beneath the shade of those
majestic oaks nearly all that was distinguished in English politics and
much that was distinguished in English literature, and few eminent
foreigners visited England without making a pilgrimage to the old
statesman. Unhappily, this did not last to the end. Failing memory and
the weakness of extreme old age at last withdrew him completely from the
society he was so eminently fitted to adorn, but to those who had known
him in his brighter days he has left a memory which can never be
effaced.'

Pembroke Lodge, on the fringe of Richmond Park, was, for more than
thirty years, Lord John Russell's home. In his busiest years, whenever
he could escape from town, the rambling, picturesque old house, which
the Queen had given him, was his chosen and greatly loved place of
retreat. 'Happy days,' records Lady Russell, 'so full of reality. The
hours of work so cheerfully got through, the hours of leisure so
delightful.' When in office much of each week was of necessity passed at
his house in Chesham Place, but he appreciated the freedom and seclusion
of Pembroke Lodge, and took a keen delight in its beautiful garden, with
its winding walks, magnificent views, and spreading forest trees--truly
a haunt of ancient peace, as well as of modern fellowship. There, in old
age, Lord Russell loved to wander with wife or child or friend, and
there, through the loop-holes of retreat amid his books and flowers, he
watched the great world, and occasionally sallied forth, so long as
strength remained, to bear his part in its affairs.

Lord John Russell in his closing years thoroughly distrusted Turkish
rule in Europe. He declared that he had formerly tried with Lord
Palmerston's aid to improve the Turks, but came to the conclusion that
the task was hopeless, and he witnessed with gladness the various
movements to throw off their control in South-Eastern Europe. He was one
of the first to call attention to the Bulgarian atrocities, and he
joined the national protest with the political ardour which moral
indignation was still able to kindle in a statesman who cherished his
old ideals at the age of eighty-four. Two passages from Lady Russell's
journal in the year 1876 speak for themselves:--'August 18. My dearest
husband eighty-four. The yea