The Civil War in America afforded one of the latest opportunities for the display of his characteristics in dealing with foreign affairs. The sentiment of the ruling class in England, the class to which Lord Palmerston was allied by birth, interest, and lifelong political association, openly showed its sympathy with the Southern side. Moreover, the English cotton-mills were shut down for lack of the raw staple, and English merchants looked longingly at the blockaded markets of the Confederacy. The Prime Minister, true to his guiding principle, made "the interests of England" the watchword of his policy. He was prompt to recognize the "belligerent rights" of the revolted states against an angry protest from the Union side; he was strenuous in his demand for apology and restitution in the case of the Confederate envoys whom Captain Wilkes, U.S.N., seized on board the British steamer "Trent"; and he taxed the endurance of Mr. Lincoln's government to the uttermost by allowing the "Alabama" and other Confederate commerce-destroyers to be built and outfitted in British ports. Not even the heavy bill of damages which his country had to pay at Geneva for this breach of neutrality has softened the bitterness of feeling which his action at that time engendered in the United States. If Lord Palmerston was the embodiment of "John Bull," he here exhibited the national character at its worst. The "evergreen" premier, vigorous almost to the last, died at Brocket in October, 1865. He had outlived many of the traits which had laid him open to attack and criticism in his younger days, and had gained in weight and dignity. The knowledge of what he had done for England, how he had stood for her interests in the Commons, and won victories for her in foreign courts, and had penetrated and frustrated the designs of her enemies, gave him a splendid position in the esteem of English patriots. They even looked kindly upon his foibles, his foppish attire, his fondness for the turf, and his frivolous gayety, which shone undaunted when the national gloom was blackest. When he died there was a general belief that England had lost a son who had spared nothing in laboring for her aggrandizement, and he went to his last resting-place in Westminster Abbey as one who had earned a place among her most useful servants. QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW