My dear Tocqueville,--I ought, as you know, to be on the Atlantic by this
time; but I was attacked, ten days ago, with lumbar neuralgia, which they
are trying, literally, to rub away. If I am quite well on the 13th, I
shall go on the 14th to America.
I was attacked at Sir John Boileau's, where I spent some days with the
Guizots, Mrs. Austin, and Stanley and Lord John Russell.
Guizot is in excellent spirits, and, what is rare in an ex-premier,
dwells more on the present and the future than on the past. Mrs. Austin
is placid and discursive.
Lord John seems to me well pleased with the present state of
affairs--which he thinks, I believe with reason, will bring him back to
power. He thinks that Malmesbury and Disraeli are doing well, and praises
much the subordinates of the Government. Considering that no one believes
Lord Derby to be wise, or Disraeli to be either wise or honest, it is
marvellous that they get on as well as they do. The man who has risen
most is Lord Stanley, and, as he has the inestimable advantage of youth,
I believe him to be predestined to influence our fortunes long.
The world, I think, is gradually coming over to an opinion, which, when I
maintained it thirty years ago, was treated as a ridiculous paradox--that
India is and always has been a great misfortune to us; and, that if it
were possible to get quit of it, we should be richer and stronger.
But it is clear that we are to keep it, at least for my life.
Kindest regards from us all to you and Madame de Tocqueville.
Ever yours,