I neither read, write, teach, learn, nor do anything—­unless indeed revising visiting books and writing invitations is to be called something.  I want to be with my Mama, to be with my husband, to be with my children, to be with friends, and to be alone, all at the same time.  I want to read everything, and to write to everybody, and to walk everywhere, in no time at all.  And what is the result?  Why, that I lose the very power not only of doing, but of thinking, to a degree that makes me seriously uneasy and unfits me to be a companion to anybody older or wiser than Wee-wee, or Baby, whose capacities exactly suit mine.  All this sounds as if I led a life of bustle, which I do not—­but it is too full, and there is an end of it.  I dare say it is mistaken vanity to suppose that if it was emptier I should do anything worthier of record in the political, literary, or educational line—­and at all events it would be hard to find a happier or, I trust, more thankful heart than mine, my troubles being in fact the result of many blessings.

The next session opened with the Greek crisis, which Greville described as “the worst scrape into which Palmerston has ever got himself and his colleagues.  The disgust at it here is universal with those who think at all about foreign matters:  it is past all doubt that it has produced the strongest feelings of indignation against this country all over Europe, and the Ministers themselves are conscious what a disgraceful figure they cut, and are ashamed of it.”

Palmerston had ordered the blockade of the Piraeus to extort compensation from the Greek Government on behalf of Mr. Finlay (afterwards the historian of Greece), whose land had been commandeered by the King of Greece for his garden, and on behalf of Don Pacifico, a Maltese Jew (and therefore a British subject), whose house had been wrecked by an Athenian mob.  The Greek Government had been prepared to pay Compensation in both cases, but not the figure demanded, which turned out, indeed, on investigation, to be in gross excess of fair compensation.  Palmerston’s action nearly threw Europe into war; Russia protested, and France, who had offered to mediate, was aggravated by a diplomatic muddle to the verge of breaking off negotiations.  A vote of censure was passed by the Opposition in the House of Lords, which had the effect of making Lord John take up the cause of Palmerston in the Commons.  The question was discussed in a famous four days’ debate.  “It contained,” says Mr. Herbert Paul, “the finest of all Lord Palmerston’s speeches, the first great speech of Gladstone, the last speech of Sir Robert Peel, and the most elaborate of those forensic harangues, delivered successively at the Bar, in the Senate, and on the Bench, by the accomplished personage best known as Lord Chief Justice Cockburn.”  Lord John, who was always good at a fighting speech, spoke also with great force.  Mr. Roebuck’s motion of confidence in the Ministry was carried, but this success was largely due to the fact that a coalition between the Peelites and the Protectionists seemed impossible.  Had it not been carried the Whigs would have resigned, and neither of the other two parties feeling strong enough to succeed them, they did not oppose in force the motion of confidence.