m not sure that
he is very wrong. He has made himself popular by the affability
and _bonhomie_ of his manner, his magnificence and hospitality,
and the liberal and generous character of his political opinions,
but he is far from a clever man, and I suspect his judgment is
very indifferent.

I hear from Ireland that Doherty conducts the trial of the
policeman with consummate skill; the object was that the trial
should appear fair, and that the men should be acquitted. They
were acquitted, and the people were furious. There is excitement
enough in that wretched country, and every effort is made to keep
it up at its highest pitch; the press on each side teems with
accusations and invectives, and the Protestants strain every
nerve to inflame the spirit of rancorous fury which distinguished
the Brunswickers before the Catholic question was carried, and to
provoke the Catholics to overt acts of violence. Both sides are
to blame, but the Protestants the most. George Villiers wrote me
word of a crime that has been perpetrated, the most atrocious I
ever heard of.... The country in which such an abomination was
perpetrated should be visited with the fate of Sodom and
Gomorrah. The arm of justice is too slow; public indignation
should deal out a rapid and a terrible vengeance.

September 5th, 1829 {p.231}

There is a strong report that the Turks want to treat, and the
proclamation of Diebitsch looks as if the Russians were ready to
make peace. There is also a hope that the Russian army may have
been too bold, and finds itself in a scrape by having advanced
too far from its resources, but the former notion is the most
likely of the two. Three or four sail of the line are ordered out
to the Mediterranean.

[Page Head: MR. WINDHAM'S DIARY.]

Yesterday I went with Amyot to his house, where he showed me a
part of Windham's diary; there are twenty-eight little volumes of
it, begun in 1784, when he was thirty-four years old, and
continued irregularly till his death; it seems to be written very
freely and familiarly, and is probably a correct picture of the
writer's mind. I only read a few pages, which were chiefly
notices of his moving about, where he dined, the company he met,
and other trifles, often very trifling and sometimes not very
decent; it abounds with expressions of self-reproach for
idleness, breach of resolutions, and not taking care of his
health; talks of the books he reads and means to read, and
constantly des