The British Government is wrestling with a very grave internal disruption—­to make a Coalition Government.  The only portfolios that seem absolutely secure are the Prime Minister’s and the Foreign Secretary’s (Sir Edward Grey’s)—­for which latter, many thanks.  The two-fold trouble is—­(1) a difference between Churchill (First Lord of the Admiralty) and Lord Fisher—­about the Dardanelles campaign and (I dare say) other things, and (2) Lord Kitchener’s failure to secure ammunition—­“to organize the industries of the Kingdom.”  Some even declare K. of K. (they now say Kitchener of Kaos) is a general colossal failure.  But the prevailing opinion is that his raising of the new army has been good work but that he has failed with the task of procuring munitions.  As for Churchill, he’s too restless and erratic and dictatorial and fussy and he runs about too much.  I talked with him at dinner last night at his mother’s.  He slips far down in his chair and swears and be-dams and by-Gods his assertions.  But his energy does interest one.  An impromptu meeting in the Stock Exchange to-day voted confidence in K. of K. and burned up a copy of the Daily Mail, which this morning had a severe editorial about him.

Washington, having sent a severe note to Germany, is now upbraided for not sending another to England, to match and pair it.  That’s largely German influence, but also the Chicago packers and the cotton men.  These latter have easy grievances, like the Irish.  The delays of the British Government are exasperating, but they are really not so bad now as they have been.  Still, the President can be influenced by the criticism that he must hit one side every time he hits the other, else he’s not neutral!  I am working by every device to help the situation and to prevent another note.  I proposed to-day to Sir Edward Grey that his Government make an immediate advance payment on the cotton that it proposes to buy.

Unless Joffre be a man of genius—­of which there are some indications—­and unless French also possibly have some claim to this distinction and perhaps the Grand Duke Nikolas, there doesn’t yet seem to be a great man brought forth by the war.  In civil life, Sir Edward Grey comes to a high measure.  As we yet see it from this English corner of the world, no other statesman now ranks with him.

March 20, 1916.

I am sure I have the best secret service that could be got by any neutral.  I am often amazed at its efficiency.  It is good because it is not a secret—­certainly not a spy service at all.  It is all aboveboard and it is all done by men of high honour and good character—­I mean the Embassy staff.  Counting the attaches there are about twenty good men, every one of whom moves in a somewhat different circle from any other one.  Every one cultivates his group of English folk, in and out of official life, and his group in the diplomatic corps.  There isn’t a week but every man of them sees his particular sources of