d attempt to persuade him to allow his
people to trade freely with ours. The idea of a commercial treaty
occurred to M. Chevalier on reading the speech, and he wrote in this
sense to Cobden, who was strongly impressed by the notion. He opened his
mind to Gladstone, who was then Chancellor of the Exchequer; and, as the
outcome, Cobden went to Paris in the autumn of 1859 as unofficial
negotiator of a treaty.

The negotiation was long and tedious. Cobden had to convert the emperor
to his views, and to await the reconciliation of the various French
interests that were opposed to freedom of trade. It was not until
November, 1860, that Cobden's labours were concluded. England cleared
her tariff of protection, and reduced the duties which were retained for
revenue on the two French staples of wine and brandy. France, on her
part, replaced prohibition by a series of moderate duties.

Palmerston offered Cobden a choice between a baronetcy and a Privy
Councillorship as a reward for his services. He replied begging
permission most respectfully to deny himself the honour. "An
indisposition to accept a title," he wrote, "being in my case rather an
affair of feeling than of reason, I will not dwell further on the
subject."

_VI.--The Last Days of Cobden_

When Cobden returned to England his public position had more than
recovered the authority and renown which had been seriously impaired by
his unpopular attitude on the Russian war. But he and Bright were soon
involved in an almost angrier conflict than before with the upper and
middle classes, on account of their championship of the North in the
American Civil War.

The remaining years of his life were largely spent in systematic
onslaughts upon the policy of Lord Palmerston, and in opposition to
military expenditure. It was with the purpose of resisting a Canadian
fortification scheme that he made his last journey to London in March,
1865. On his arrival he was seized by a sharp attack of asthma;
bronchitis supervened, and it became evident that he would not recover.
On the morning of Sunday, April 2, Bright took his place by the side of
the dying man. As the bells were ringing for the morning service the
mists of death began to settle heavily on his brow, and his ardent,
courageous, and brotherly spirit soon passed tranquilly away.

He was buried by the side of his son in the little churchyard at
Lavington, on the slope of the hill among the pine-woods. "Before we
left