the late General Gordon, who now entered on that course of
extraordinary achievement which lacks a parallel in this century, and
which began, in the interests of Chinese civilisation, shortly after
he had taken a subordinate officer's part in the work of destruction
at Pekin.

From this date England did not commit itself to any of the singular
series of enterprises which our good ally, the French Emperor, set on
foot. A feeling of distrust towards that potentate was invading the
minds of the very Englishmen who had most cordially hailed his
successes and met his advances. "The Emperor's mind is as full of
schemes as a warren is full of rabbits, and, like rabbits, his
schemes go to ground for the moment to avoid notice or antagonism,"
were the strong words of Lord Palmerston in a confidential letter of
1860; and when he could thus think and write, small wonder if calmer
and more unprejudiced minds saw need for standing on their guard.
Amid all the flattering demonstrations of friendship of which the
French court had been lavish, and which had been gracefully
reciprocated by English royality, the Prince Consort had retained an
undisturbed perception of much that was not quite satisfactory in the
qualifications of the despotic chief of the French State for his
difficult post. Thus it is without surprise that we find the Queen
writing in 1859, as to a plan suggested by the Emperor: "The whole
scheme is the often-attempted one, that England should take the
chestnuts from the fire, and assume the responsibility of making
proposals which, if they lead to war, we should be in honour bound to
support by arms." The Emperor had once said of Louis Philippe, that
he had fallen "because he was not sincere with England"; it looked
now as though he were steering full on the same rock, for his own
sincerity was flawed by dangerous reservations.