for the purpose of conveying to his Sicilian Majesty the strongest assurances of the earnest desire of Her Majesty’s Government to maintain, and if possible draw still closer, the bonds of friendship which have so long united the Crowns of Great Britain and of the Two Sicilies.

Here, then, the Government were vowing eternal friendship with the Neapolitan.  But, on the 10th of January, there broke out a rebellion in Sicily, and then ‘a change came over the spirit of their dream’, for there appeared no longer the same ardent desire for amity with Naples, or lamentations that it was not possible to ’draw still closer the bonds of friendship between the two Governments’.  Now came a scene which I have read in the mass of papers before me with feelings of very sincere regret.  I cannot easily imagine a more imbecile judgement than presides, or a more mischievous spirit than pervades, the whole of the diplomatic correspondence, the whole correspondence, not only of our professional politicians, our Ministers, our Secretaries, our Consuls, our Deputy-Consuls, but also a new class of political agents, who appear on the scene, the vice-admirals and captains of ships of the line, who all seem, in the waters of Sicily, to have been suddenly transformed, as if by the potent spells of the ancient enchantress who once presided over that coast, stripped of their natural military form, if not into the same sort of creatures, whose form she made men assume, yet into monsters, hideous to behold, mongrel animals, political sailors, diplomatic vice-admirals, speculative captains of ships, nautical statesmen, observers, not of the winds and the stars, but of revolts:  leaning towards rebels, instead of hugging the shore; instead of buffeting the gale, scudding away before the popular tempest; nay, suggesters of expeditions against the established Governments of the Allies, with whom their Government lamented it could not draw the bonds of friendship more closely—­a new species, half naval and half political, whose nature is portentous, in whose existence I could never have believed.  Mr. Temple, a prudent and experienced Minister, is absent, unfortunately, from his post, and his place is filled by Lord Napier, a worthy man, and an active, above all, an active penman, a glib writer if not a great; writing, not quite, but very nearly as well as the captains and admirals themselves.  We find this gentleman, like them, ardently hoping that revolt may prosper, and doing his endeavour to realize his desire; dealing out every sort of suggestion and recommendation, lecturing as if he sat in the Foreign Office, administering rebukes like a Foreign Secretary, telling the Neapolitan Government they had better do so and so; if they did not, it would be the worse for them, and it would be viewed with ‘great gravity’; and yet supposing that no one but himself was sensitive, for he takes care not to show respect by salutes, and addresses, and those matters about