It was on the 9th of July that Lord Elgin reached the shores where lay already congregated the formidable force, for the employment of which, as the secular arm of his diplomacy, he was henceforth to be responsible.

July 9th.—­Eight A.M.—­It is a calm sea and scorching sun, very hot, and it looks hotter still in that bay, protected by bare rocky promontories and islets, and backed by hills, within which we discover a fleet at anchor.  What will this day bring forth?  How much we are in the hand of Providence ‘rough-hew our ends as we may!’ In little more than an hour we shall probably be at our journey’s close for the time.

[Sidenote:  Country-people.]

I have just heard a story of the poor country-people here.  A few days ago, a party of drunken sailors went to a village, got into a row, and killed a man by mistake.  On the day following, three officers went to the village armed with revolvers.  The villagers surrounded them, took from them the revolvers (whether the officers fired or not is disputed), and then conducted them, without doing them any injury, to their boat.  An officer, with an interpreter, was then sent to the village to ask for the revolvers.  They were at once given up, the villagers stating that they had no wish to take them, but that as one of their number had been shot already, they objected to people coming to them with arms.

July 10th.—­What will the House of Commons say when the bill which has to be paid for this war is presented?  The expense is enormous:  in my opinion, utterly disproportionate to the objects to be effected.  The Admiral is doing things excellently well, if money be no object.

July 12th.-We are in a delightful climate.  Troops and all in good health.  I shall not, however, dilate on these points, because I am sure you will read all about it in the Times.  ’Our Own Correspondent’ is in the next cabin to me, completing his letter.  I leave it to him to tell all the agreeable and amusing things that are occurring around us.  My letters to you are nothing but the record of incidents that happen to affect me at the time; trifling things sometimes; sometimes things that irritate; things that pass often and leave no impression, as clouds reflected on a lake.

[Sidenote:  Cavalry camp.] [Sidenote:  Sir Hope Grant.]

Talien-Whan Bay.—­July 14th.—­Yesterday, at an early hour, the French Admiral and General arrived.  It was agreed that they should go over to the cavalry camp on the other side of the bay, some ten miles off, and that I should accompany them.  No doubt you will see in the Times a full account of all that took place on the occasion.  Nothing could be more perfect than the condition of the force, both men and horses.  The picturesqueness of the scene; the pleasant bay, with its sandy margin and background of bleak hills, seamed by the