After six weeks I returned to renew my circuit in Ireland, and returning to Dublin about the middle of January, though I had no reason particularly for wishing to speak again with Lord Clarendon, I considered that it was in some way a duty of propriety to ask for an interview, as he had been pleased to request it at the close of the first visit. Accordingly, after some time for reflection, I wrote him a letter to this effect, and he appointed me half-past eleven on Saturday, February 8, 1852. This time it was in Dublin Castle that I saw him, being ushered into his private room through the muskets, bayonets, and other arms--not ancient pieces, for curiosity, as at Alton Towers, but arms of the most modern style, ready for use--with which the hall and great staircase seemed to me as though wainscoted throughout. I apologised soon after entering at taking up so much of his time; and again somewhat later I offered to {407} withdraw, however interesting was the conversation to myself. He answered, "Oh, no! I am very glad to see you. They will soon tell me of Sir Thomas Reddington being come for business: till then I am free." I will now relate only one or two passages of this conversation, as being, I conceive, of peculiar consequence to my present purpose. I was saying something of my continued endeavours to move the Irish to pray for England, and I suppose remarking that this must have a salutary effect on the feelings of the people. He said with an incredulous smile: "And do you think the Irish pray for England?" "I have no doubt whatever," I answered, "that a great many do, but it is as yet nothing to what I desire to bring them to." With a still more incredulous look, he added: "Do you think they pray for England at Maynooth?" "Well, my Lord,' I only know that whenever I visit Maynooth the superiors appoint me a time for addressing the students assembled (he looked evidently pleased at hearing this); and will you listen," I continued, "to a sentence of one of my half-hour's addresses to them? I began it without well knowing what I was going to say; but when I had finished I said to myself, I have said one good thing at least which I shall one day turn to account. It was soon after the publication of Lord John Russell's Durham letter. I said to them, 'Will you allow me to offer you one word of advice? You will just now be tempted most probably to say some violent things; especially some violent things of Lord John Russell. Now I would ask you, Do you know Lord John Russell? I suppose one and all would tell me _no_. The advice I was going to offer is that you should not speak evil of what you do not know.'" Lord Clarendon said: "Did you say that?" I said: "Yes, my lord." He added emphatically: "That _was_ good." After I had risen to leave him, I said: "My Lord, I have been often citing your Excellency,