The Tories are full of rancour, and express great confidence that this Government will not last, and that they shall all be recalled to power before the end of the year. Derby had a large gathering at Salisbury's house, when he made them a speech recommending union and moderation, the first of which recommendations they seem more likely to adopt than the second. The affair of his Garter was in this wise. On resigning he wrote to the Queen and besought her to bestow Red Ribands on Malmesbury and Pakington. She wrote him an answer acceding to his request, and adding that she could not allow him to retire a second time from her service without conferring upon him a mark of her sense of his services, and she therefore desired him to accept the Garter, though none was vacant. He told me this, and said it was the only way in which he could have taken it, as he never should have given it to himself, and I believe if a vacancy had occurred he meant to have given it to the Duke of Hamilton.

While we have been settling our Government for good or for evil, the war has continued to pursue its course of uninterrupted success of the Allies, and unless something almost miraculous should occur, the Austrian dominion in Italy may be considered as at an end. The sentiments of people here are of a very mixed and almost contradictory character, for they are on the whole anti-Austrian, anti-French, and though more indulgent than they deserve to the Sardinians, not favourable to them. The most earnest and general desire is that we should keep out of the m�l�e, and any termination of the war would be hailed with gladness, because we should thereby be relieved from our apprehensions of being involved in it. We should not be sorry to see the Austrians driven out of Italy for good and all, though most people would regret that the Emperor Louis Napoleon should be triumphant, and that such a course of perfidy, falsehood, and selfish ambition should be crowned with success. The Austrians deserve their fate, for nothing can exceed the folly of their conduct, first in rushing into the war, and thereby playing the whole game of their adversaries, and secondly in placing in command men evidently incapable, and who have committed nothing but blunders since the first day of the campaign.

This Administration lasted until the death of Lord Palmerston on October 18, 1865.]

June 27th.—Yesterday I went to Kent House, where I found Clarendon and his sister alone, and we had a long talk, in the course of which he told me all that had passed (especially with regard to himself) about the formation of the Government. Although he spoke very good-naturedly about Granville and his abortive attempt, I saw clearly that he thought Granville had been in the wrong to undertake it, and that he ought at once to have told the Queen it was impossible, and have declined it. Though Palmerston had given a qualified consent to act with him, it was with evident reluctance, and he had guarded it by saying it must be subject to his approbation of the way in which the Government was composed. Lord John's consent was still more qualified, and he annexed to it a condition which at once put an end to the attempt. This was, as I had suspected, that he should be leader of the House of Commons. To this Palmerston refused to agree, and so the whole thing fell to the ground. Granville, by Clarendon's advice, at once reported his failure to the Queen, gave her no advice as to whom she should send for, and of her own accord she sent for Palmerston.

Previously to this, and I think before the vote, Palmerston and Clarendon had discussed the probability of Palmerston's forming a Government, when Palmerston told him he should expect him to return to the Foreign Office. As soon as Palmerston had been with Her Majesty, he went off to Pembroke Lodge, and saw Lord John; told him all that had happened, and that he would of course take any office he pleased. Lord John said, 'I take the Foreign Office.' Palmerston said he had contemplated putting Clarendon there again, enumerating his reasons and Clarendon's claims, but that if he insisted on the Foreign Office as a right, he must have it. Lord John said, 'I do insist on it,' and so it was settled.

I ought to have inserted that when Palmerston and Clarendon talked the matter over at first, Clarendon begged him not to think of him, and that if, as was probable, John Russell desired the Foreign Office, he must give it him, for if he did not, or even made any difficulty, an immediate breach would be the consequence, and John Russell would get up a case against Palmerston which would be very embarrassing. Palmerston at first said he should certainly insist on Clarendon's not being put aside to please Lord John, but in the end Clarendon persuaded him not to adhere to that resolution. After all was settled there was a small gathering at Cambridge House, when Palmerston told Clarendon that he might have the choice of any other office, but Clarendon replied that he was not conversant with Colonial, Indian, or War affairs, and he would not take an office for which there would be many candidates, while he much preferred being out, and Palmerston would not have half offices enough to satisfy the demands for them. Palmerston said he would not take this as his last word, and the next day the Queen sent for Clarendon, by Palmerston's own desire, to try and persuade him to take office. He went to Buckingham Palace and had an audience, or rather interview, of three hours with Her Majesty and the Prince, in which she treated him with the most touching kindness and confidence, and exhausted all her powers of persuasion to induce him to join the Government, but he was firm and would not. She then said, in the event of a vacancy of the Foreign Office, 'You must promise me you will take it,' to which he replied, 'Your Majesty knows I would do anything in the world for your service; but you must allow me, in any case which may occur, to exercise my own discretion under the circumstances, and to rest assured that I shall in every case be actuated solely by a desire to do what is best for your Majesty, and most conducive to your pleasure and interest.' The Queen talked to Clarendon of the publication in the 'Times' with much indignation, and said, 'Whom am I to trust? These were my own very words.' Clarendon, however, endeavoured to convince her that the article had in fact (however indecorous it might appear) been eminently serviceable to her, inasmuch as it negatived any suspicion of intrigue or underhand dealing in any quarter, and represented her own conduct in a manner to excite universal approbation. He dilated on this in a way which made great impression both on the Prince and on her, and ultimately satisfied her that all had been for the best, thereby acting a very good-natured part and a very wise one.

July 4th.—Cobden has declined to take office, though he was advised by his friends to accept, and he approves of Milner Gibson and Charles Villiers having joined the Government. The reasons he gives are that he has always been a strenuous opponent of Palmerston, and that his conduct will be liable to reproach in taking office under him, that he has been the advocate of economy and low establishments, and would find himself obliged to act very inconsistently, or to oppose his colleagues in a policy respecting which popular opinion would be against him; but he expresses great satisfaction with Palmerston, who he says is a much better fellow than he was aware of, and he means to give the Government all the support in his power. These reasons do not seem sufficient for his not joining, which he had better have done. Granville laments Clarendon's having declined to take office as a Secretary of State, and that he will not be in the Cabinet to throw into the scale of foreign policy his political weight. I said I knew nothing of his motives, but assuming that he did not see foreign affairs in the same light as Palmerston and John Russell, he would be placed in an awkward position before long. Granville said this might be true, but he thought before very long he would be at the Foreign Office again. What he meant by that I do not know.

July 12th.—On Friday morning the world was electrified by reading in the 'Times' that an armistice had been agreed upon between the belligerent Emperors in Italy, and the subsequent announcement that they were to have a personal meeting yesterday morning, and the armistice to last for five weeks (till August 15), led to a pretty general conclusion that peace would be the result.[1] The Stock Exchange take the same view, for everywhere and in all securities there has been a great rise. I saw George Lewis on Sunday and asked him if the Government had any intelligence, when he told me that the only thing, besides what had appeared in the papers, was that France had proposed to us to interpose our mediation on the basis of Austria giving up everything, and Prussia had made the same proposal on the basis of Austria giving up nothing, both which proposals we had very naturally declined.

July 13th.—We had scarcely had time to begin discussing and speculating on the probable results of the armistice, before the news of peace being actually concluded burst upon us. As yet we have only the great fact itself and the skeleton of the arrangement, and we shall probably be for some time without materials for judging as to the merits of the Treaty of Peace and its probable consequences, but the first impressions and the first ideas that present themselves may be worth recording. There is no denying that the Emperor Napoleon has played a magnificent part, and whatever we may think of his conduct, and the springs of his actions, he appears before the world as a very great character.[1] Though he can lay no claim to the genius and intellectual powers of the first Napoleon, he is a wiser and a soberer man, with a command over himself and a power of self-restraint, and consequently of moderation in pursuit of objects, which the other did not possess, and therefore while the towering genius of the uncle led him on through magnificent achievements and stupendous vicissitudes to his ruin, it appears highly probable that the better regulated mind and the habitual prudence of the nephew will preserve him from the commission of similar errors, and render his career somewhat less splendid, but more durable and infinitely more beneficial to his country.

With regard to the present affair, the first thing we must be struck with is the way in which the King of Sardinia has been treated. Napoleon, indeed, tosses him a large share of the spoils, but not only was he not admitted to the Conference which led to peace, but he does not appear to have been consulted upon it any more than any of the French generals; the only notice that was taken of the King (so far as we know) being that he was ordered, upon the conclusion of the armistice, to desist from the siege of Peschiera. I had heard before that the Emperor was extremely disgusted with his ally and Cavour, and at all that the latter had said and done, at the proclamations and other documents he had put forth, and at the audacious manner in which that Government had annexed every scrap of territory they could lay their hands on, and assumed the government of every State that they could manage to revolutionise, and all without the sanction and concurrence of the Emperor. Nothing is more likely than that the Italian War will not be closed without much bickering and heartburning between the two allies, and that the King and his Cavour will find, in spite of all they are to obtain, that they will have no bed of roses to repose upon after their fatigues and labours.[2]

Then, so far as we can judge of the settlement, it seems one that is likely to give more offence and disappointment than satisfaction to the bulk of the Italian people, and to imagine that affairs will relapse or resolve themselves into a peaceable and quiescent state is a mere delusion. What passed between the two Emperors we may perhaps never know, though the effects of their interview may one day become dangerously apparent; but it is not unreasonable to conjecture that Napoleon exerted all his arts and blandishments to make a friend of Francis Joseph, and to persuade him that a cordial alliance with France would be more advantageous to him than one with England, and he might with every appearance and much of the reality of truth tell him that England had done nothing for him; that neither the Government nor the nation had any sympathies with Austria, whom, so far from assisting, they had gladly seen defeated in Italy; and that the forbearance of the Emperor in leaving Austria in possession of any part of Italy would be unpalateable to Palmerston and John Russell, and generally unpopular. One cannot but suspect that an alliance was at least projected, if not formed, between the three great despotic Powers, France, Austria, and Russia, for the purpose of domineering over Europe, and dealing with the several States according to their pleasure, or the pleasure of France, and with the ultimate object of attacking, weakening, and humbling England.

Of all the provisions of this Treaty that which regards the sovereignty of the Pope is the most curious and seems the most difficult to carry out; it is indicative of the necessity under which the Emperor thinks he is placed of disarming the hostility and consulting the prejudices of the Catholic party and the Church in France. Whether the Pope will accept the temporal office assigned to him may be doubted, but it can hardly be doubted that his supremacy will not be willingly accepted and acknowledged by the Italians generally, to whom the Papal rule is already odious.[3] One cannot but feel glad at the deep mortification and disappointment which will overtake the Republicans and Socialists, the Mazzinis, Garibaldis, Kossuths, et hoc genus omne, at a pacification so ruinous to all their hopes and designs. Clarendon told me he believed the account in the 'Times' of the compact between the Emperor and Kossuth, and nothing is more likely than that at the beginning of the contest he employed Kossuth in the way stated, and gave him all sorts of promises, and when he found he could do everything sine tali auxilio, and that he had a stronger interest in making friends with Austria, he threw Kossuth over without scruple or hesitation. This is exactly the course he would be likely to follow.[4]

July 15th.—The news of the peace took everybody so much by surprise, that people had no time to arrange their thoughts upon it; but in the midst of the general satisfaction that the war is over, it is already apparent that there is an explosion of disappointment and resentment to come. All the Italian sympathisers here are in despair, Palmerston is much dissatisfied, and the anti-Austrian Press is indignant. The King of Sardinia has not openly testified any ill-humour, and has published an Address to his new Lombard subjects in a joyful style, but it is impossible he should not deeply feel and resent the contemptuous way in which he has been treated by his Imperial ally, and the resignation of Cavour is a clear manifestation of his feelings on the subject.

When it was announced that an interview was to take place between the two Emperors, everybody predicted that the elder of the two would have as much success in diplomacy over his rival as he had already obtained in arms, but the result does not appear to bear out that expectation, though we do not yet know what the real motives of the Emperor Napoleon were in concluding such an extraordinary peace. Granville told me that at this interview the Austrian Emperor had taken a very high line, and shown little disposition to concession. He said to Napoleon, 'You have conquered Lombardy, and I do not contemplate making any attempt to recover it. I am therefore quite ready to cede it to you, and you will deal with it as you please. I have nothing to say to the King of Sardinia, and make no concessions to him. With regard to Venetia, and the country of which I remain in possession, I have nothing to concede or to offer, all that I mean to retain, but I have no objection to my Venetian dominions forming part of the Italian Confederation.' They appear to have had a vast deal of conversation and discussion, for they are said to have been together for above twelve hours. What they talked about it would be interesting to know, but which they will neither of them tell us. The field for speculation is as wide as can well be. How the settlement of Italy is to be accomplished, how the Italians are to be contented, and how peace in that country is to be permanently secured, are questions enough to puzzle the acutest politicians.

We congratulate ourselves at having kept entirely clear both of the war and the peace, but no doubt Palmerston is mortified, and I think England generally will be provoked that changes of such importance should have been made without any consultation or even communication with us.

The friends of the Emperor Napoleon say that they believe his motive for making peace on any terms he could get to have been principally that he was so shocked and disgusted at the fearful scenes of pain and misery that he had to behold after the battle of Solferino in addition to the other battle-fields, and at the spectacle of thousands of killed and wounded presented to his eyes, that his nerves could not bear it. Lady Cowley told me that he was so tenderhearted that he could not bear the sight of pain, much less being the cause of inflicting it, and she had seen him quite upset after visiting hospitals at the sufferings he had witnessed there, which of course are not to be compared with the horrible scene of a battle-field. It is impossible to say that this may not be true wholly or in part, it is impossible to account for human idiosyncrasies; but it is quite certain that the man who is said to shrink with horror from the sight of suffering does not scruple to inflict it in quite as bad a form when he does not himself witness the infliction. He has hundreds and thousands of people torn from their families, and without form of trial or the commission of any crime sends them to linger or perish in pestilential climates, when he fancies it his interest to do so, and for their sufferings he evinces no pity or any nervous sensations.

August 7th.—I have found it impossible to collect anything to record in this book for the last month almost. The session is drawing to a close, having glided on without difficulty for the Government, and almost without opposition. The Election Committees have made great havoc in Palmerston's small majority, having unseated no less than seven Liberal members. I am told, perhaps on no good authority, that Palmerston, John Russell, and Gladstone are anxious to join in a Congress to mix themselves up in the settlement of Italian affairs, but that they cannot have their way, the majority of the Cabinet being opposed to it, and the House of Commons and the country (as represented by the Press) being decidedly against any such interference.[1]

I met Edward Mildmay the other day, who gave me some account of his own personal experiences during the last Italian campaign, when he was attached to the Austrian Army. He confirmed all previous accounts of the excellence of that army and the incompetency of its chiefs; that nothing could have saved the French Army at Magenta if the Austrians had been tolerably commanded; that Giulai, who had never seen any service, had been allowed to retain the command by the influence of General Gr�nne, whose friend he is, and that the indignation and disgust of the army at having been thus sacrificed to Court favour and partiality had been extreme. He told me that at Solferino the Austrian loss was (within a fraction of) 20,000, the French 19,000, and the Sardinians 9,000 men; Benedek is the ablest of the Austrian generals, and if he had had the command probably affairs would have taken a very different turn. Mildmay has no doubt that peace was much more necessary to the French than to the Austrians, and he still believes that if the war had continued the tide of victory would have been rolled back, as the latter had 90,000 fresh troops coming into line. It is probably better as it is than if the Austrians had recovered all their losses; the Emperor Napoleon seems likely to be satisfied with his military exploits, and to be really intending to revert to his peaceful policy. He is certainly doing all he can to persuade the world that such is his intention, and there seems a disposition here to take him at his word.

Viceregal Lodge, Phœnix Park, August 22nd.—I have at last accomplished the object I have desired for so many years, and find myself in Ireland. I have seized the first opportunity of being my own master to come here. I left London the week before last, and went to Nun Appleton, thence to Grimstone, and on Saturday I came here, railing through York and Manchester to Holyhead; crossed over on a beautiful evening, with sea as smooth as glass, but it was too dark to see the Bay of Dublin. Most hospitably received by Lord Carlisle, and very comfortably lodged. Passed the day in Dublin yesterday; twice at church, in the morning at Christ Church, afternoon St. Patrick's, attracted by the celebrity of the choir and the performance of the cathedral service, which was finely done, though the best voices (three brothers Robinson) were absent. I am greatly struck by the fineness of the town of Dublin, and of the public buildings especially.

Dublin, August 23rd.—On Monday morning the Lord-Lieutenant went to pay his first visit since his return to the National School and took me with him. I was much gratified at the sight, and with the appearance of the children and their intelligence. There was a grand gathering of Commissioners and others to meet Carlisle, but no Catholics except Lord Bellew and Dean——, who alone of all the Catholic ecclesiastics has had courage and resolution to adhere to the system. Not one Catholic Bishop now remains on the board. Bishop Denver was the last to resign, which it is believed he did reluctantly, but it seems that the rule of their Synod is, that when a majority has decided, those who are in the minority give in their adhesions, and produce unanimity. The National System is apparently in the crisis of its fate, and a desperate struggle is being made by the Popish clergy to destroy it, while the ultra-Protestants will join them (for different reasons and with different objects) for the same end. I earnestly hope these factions will fail. The most encouraging circumstance is found in the return which was given me of the 'Central Model Schools,' in which the number of pupils seeking admission is 1,179, an evident proof of the popularity of the system, and that up to this time the priests have not been able to deter their flocks from giving their children its benefits. This return is sufficiently interesting to be copied into this journal:—

Carlisle was received with great enthusiasm by both pupils and teachers. After this we went to the Hill of Killinie, whence there is a grand panoramic view of the Bay of Dublin and the surrounding country, and then to my old friend Lady Campbell[1] (Pamela Fitz-Gerald), whose beautiful daughters are as well worth seeing as anything in Ireland.

Dublin, August 24th.—Yesterday in the morning a review in the Phœnix Park, after which Bagot took me to Howth Castle, which I was curious to see, but it is not very remarkable, though very ancient. It has a modernised appearance, and is a comfortable house, said to be the oldest inhabited house in Ireland, and one of the towers of fabulous antiquity.I remarked that the hall door was left open, according to the traditional obligation. One of the Ladies St. Lawrence told me the story as follows: An old woman, 'the Granawhile,' came to the castle and asked for hospitality or alms, and was refused and driven away. She was the wife of a pirate. On the seaside she found the young heir with his nurse, whom she seized and carried off. Afterwards she brought the boy back, and consented to restore him on condition that henceforward no beggar should be refused admittance, that the hall door should be kept continually open, and that at dinner a place should be kept and a plate laid for any stranger who might appear. The beggars are kept away by not being admitted through the lodge gates; the hall door is open, but there is another door behind it, and the vacant place has by degrees fallen into disuse. I know not how old the story is, but there is enough to show that it had a foundation of some sort, and that it retains a relic in the customs of the family. On returning to Dublin I went to see Trinity College, and the beautiful museum erected a few years ago. Dublin is, for its size, a finer town than London, and I think they beat us hollow in their public buildings. We have no such squares as Merrion Square, nor such a street as Sackville Street.

Bessborough, August 26th.—I came here on Wednesday vi� Kilkenny. A very nice place, comfortable, and in as good order as any place in England. People apparently well off, and cottages clean and not uncomfortable.

August 28th.—Went yesterday to Waterford; pretty good town, but looking very foreign. They showed me a hill, to which it is said Cromwell advanced, but found the town too strong to be attacked; hence Waterford has been called the Urbs invicta. I doubt the story, for he would have stormed Waterford easily enough if he had chosen. Saw the National School; a very good establishment, boys absent on holidays, but a very civil intelligent master, a Roman Catholic. The clergy of neither persuasion will come near the school, except the Dean of Waterford, who still supports it. Went on to Curraghmore, a vast and magnificent park, but a mean house.

August 31st.—Went on Tuesday to Woodstock; very pretty place, and in admirable trim. Weather changing, and I fear I shall see Killarney in rain and cold.

Viceregal Lodge, September 6th.—Went to Muckrosson Thursday last; passed three days there in exquisite enjoyment of the beautiful scenery of Killarney; weather was perfect, and I went over and round all the lakes; returned here on Monday, and went yesterday to the Curragh.

Jervaulx Abbey, Sunday, September 11th.—Crossed over from Kingstown to Holyhead on Thursday last; beautiful passage. Passed the last day, Wednesday, in Dublin with William Fitzgerald seeing the town. He took me over the old Leinster House, now the Royal Institution, and then to the Bank to see the old House of Lords; a fine room, exactly as it was, and what was the House of Commons, now completely altered and not retaining a vestige of the famous locality where Flood and Grattan and Plunket once shook the walls with their eloquence. I left Ireland with regret, for I spent several very happy days there, interested and amused even more than I expected, and treated with great kindness and hospitality. Went from Holyhead to Manchester, and on to Worsley to sleep; came here on Friday. The old Abbey is very picturesque, and very perfect as a ruin. It reminds me, place and all, of Bolton Abbey.

London, September 26th.—I stayed three days at Jervaulx, then to Doncaster, Bretby, and to town. All the Ministers in London, having passed their lives during the last fortnight in the railway or in Cabinets, which have been very numerous, as well they may, for they have plenty to occupy them in the Italian, Chinese, and American questions, all, in their several ways and degrees, extremely embarrassing. I have not the slightest conception what our Government are doing about the Italian question, but I suppose trying to keep well with Napoleon III., and to obtain good terms for the Italian Duchies. At present it looks as if a Congress would be got together to untie this complicated knot, but I fear we are not likely to play in it a part which will be consistent with our principles, or creditable to our national character, and I wish we could abstain from having anything to do with it. The incident about the American Boundary is awkward, but I feel confident it will be amicably settled.

The Chinese affair is the most serious, and one can see no solution of it that is not full of objections and embarrassments.[1] In the first place it looks at present very much as if our case was a bad one. We had no business to go with an armament and force our way up the river, and even if we were upon any ground justified in such an extreme measure, it was to the last degree impolitic and unwise to exercise such a right. The object for which Bruce was sent to China was to conclude a peace, and to establish amicable relations with the Chinese Government, and it might have occurred to him that the employment of force, even if it was ever so successful, must infallibly defeat his object. It required no great sagacity to perceive that the arrival at Pekin of a victorious Ambassador, who had forced his way to the capital at the head of an imposing force, would not serve to make his reception a friendly one, or to establish permanent harmonious relations between the English and the Chinese Governments. As long as there was a possibility of procuring access to Pekin by peaceful means and by negotiation, it would have been better to be patient and to wait any time than to employ force; and besides the political objections that seem conclusive against the adoption of such a course, it seems highly probable that no such force as that which we employed on this occasion could have been pushed on into the heart of the country without imminent danger of its being cut off and eventually destroyed. The mere fact of destroying again the Peiho forts would be deemed by the Chinese as the renewal of the war, and the perpetrator of the outrage would not have been received in the sacred character of an Ambassador, but would have been looked on as an invader, and treated accordingly. This is the first view of the question which presents itself. Then comes that of vindicating our honour, and retrieving the disaster we have suffered, which involves the necessity of rushing into war again and scattering havoc and desolation through the country, massacring thousands of people who can make no effectual resistance to our power, and making territorial conquests, which will only embarrass us, and which we shall have more difficulty in getting rid of than we shall have in making their acquisition. In short, we are going to be engaged in a contest in which failure will be disgraceful, and success will be inconvenient, and to place additional obstacles in the way of that good understanding which it is so much our interest to establish with China. Nor are our difficulties diminished by the fact of being connected with, and therefore more or less dependent on the French, and in a less degree with the Russians and the Americans in this unfortunate contest. This local and accidental alliance impairs our freedom of action, and of necessity introduces delays and complications of all sorts into the affair.

October 19th.—Nearly a month and nothing to record, besides the events of the day, of which I know nothing more than the newspapers report. I only take up my pen now because Clarendon called on me, and it is worth while to recollect the little he told me during a very short visit. I had not seen him since his visit to Osborne in the summer, and he began by giving me an account of it. The Queen was delighted to have him with her again and to have a good long confidential talk with him, for it seems she finds less satisfaction in her intercourse with either Palmerston or Lord John. The relations of these two are now most intimate and complete, and Palmerston has obtained an entire influence and authority over Lord John, who only sees with his eyes and without any contest submits to be entirely guided and controlled by Palmerston. The jeu of the thing is rather amusing. Palmerston, who is thoroughly versed in foreign affairs (while Lord John knows very little about them), in every important case suggests to Lord John what to do. Lord John brings it before the Cabinet as his own idea, and then Palmerston supports him, as if the case was new to him.

But to return to the Queen and Clarendon. He was unfortunately attacked by gout and confined to his room. He was sitting there with Lady Clarendon, when Lady Gainsborough came in and told him that she was desired by the Queen to beg he would if possible move into the next room (the Lady-in-waiting's room) and establish himself there; that the Queen would come in, when all the ladies present were to go away and leave her t�te-�-t�te with him. All this was done, and she remained there an hour and a half, talking over everything, pouring all her confidences into his ears, and asking for his advice about everything. He said he had endeavoured to do as much good as he could by smoothing down her irritation about things she did not like. As an example, he mentioned that while the Prince was with him a box was brought in with a despatch from Lord John, which the Prince was to read. He did so with strong marks of displeasure, and then read it to Clarendon, saying they could not approve it, and must return it to Lord John. Clarendon begged him not to do this, that it was not the way to deal with him, and it would be better to see what it contained that really was good and proper, and to suggest emendations as to the rest. He persuaded the Prince to do this, advised him what to say, and in the end Lord John adopted all the suggestions they had made to him. On another occasion the Queen had received a very touching letter from the Duchess of Parma imploring her protection and good offices, which she sent to Lord John desiring he would write an answer for her to make to it. He sent a very short, cold answer, which the Queen would not send. She asked Clarendon to write a suitable one for her, which he did, but insisted that she should send it to Lord John as her own. She did so, Lord John approved, and so this matter was settled.

Newmarket, October 21st.—Clarendon told me, and has since written to me, that Government regard in a very serious light the approaching war between Spain and Morocco, which they think will have the effect of putting Gibraltar in peril;[1] that Spain is playing the part of catspaw to France, who wants to get possession of Morocco, giving Tangier to Spain, which would give her, and France through her, the command of both sides the Straits, and as we depend upon Tangier for supplies to Gibraltar, it would be difficult for us to hold the place when this scheme is accomplished. He writes to-day: 'No news to-day except that things look very fishy with Spain and Morocco, and I suspect we are going to be vigorous, which, though it may be expedient, may also be productive of much trouble.'

He was lately at Broadlands, and had much talk with Palmerston, who was very friendly and confidential, told him everything, and appeared very anxious to have his opinions and advice. He says that Palmerston's hatred of Austria amounted to a monomania, and this of course produces a divergence between the present policy of France and ours. He talked about America. When Clarendon was lately at Clumber he discussed that affair with the Duke of Newcastle and offered to write to Buchanan, with whom it seems he is in correspondence, and say to him what it is desirable should be said, unofficially; and he suggested that he should hold out to Buchanan the prospect of a visit from the Prince of Wales, who it seems is going to Canada some time or other. This the Duke mentioned at the Cabinet, where the proposal was highly approved, but when it was broached to the Queen, Her Majesty objected to anything being said about the Prince of Wales going to the United States, so it fell to the ground.[2]

London, October 30th.—Clarendon came to town yesterday morning on his way to Windsor and called here. He told me that we were going to send a representative to the Congress, and I was not a little surprised to perceive that he would not be at all disinclined to go there himself. He did not indeed say so, but unless I am greatly deceived this is in his mind, though not without feeling the difficulty of his acting with John Russell. Clarendon says that the preparations going on in France are on the most enormous scale, and can have no object but one hostile to this country, and that the feeling against England is fomented by the Government and extending all over France. He is persuaded that the fixed purpose of Louis Napoleon is to humble this country, and deprive her of the great influence and authority she has hitherto exercised over the affairs of Europe. He is bent upon getting us to take part in the Congress, and that in order to persuade us he will pretend to be entirely agreed with us in opinion, and only wishing to concert the most proper means of carrying out our common objects, and when he has thus cajoled us into a participation he will throw us over, and place us under the necessity of agreeing to what we disapprove, or of putting ourselves en d�saccord with all Europe. He told me that John Russell is supposed on the Continent to be the implacable enemy of the Catholic religion, and this will be a great disqualification for his acting at a Congress mainly composed of Catholic Powers; that this opinion, which is rife in Ireland, is propagated all over the world, and that the recollections of the Durham Letter and the Ecclesiastical Titles Bill are still as strong as ever.[1]