_Sunday, April 15th_.--I called on M. Feuillet de Conches, the editor of the Marie Antoinette letters, whose authenticity is impugned, and on leaving his house I called on Lavergne, where I met M. de Sybel, the German professor, by whom these charges have been most actively brought and disseminated. I found that M. de Sybel, though in Paris, had not seen anything of Feuillet's collection, though he had publicly stated that he was going to Paris to clear up the whole story. Upon this I assured him (as was the fact) that I knew Feuillet would receive him with the utmost courtesy, if he would call upon him, and would show him anything and everything in his collections bearing on this matter; and as he appeared to hesitate, I offered myself to conduct and introduce him. Upon this he hesitated still more, and at last said that the fact was that his mind was so fully made up on the subject, and his conviction that these documents are forged is so complete, that no amount of ocular evidence would shake it, and he should only conclude that the author of these fabrications was a very skilful fellow. Upon this I desisted from any further attempt to bring M. de Sybel acquainted with M. Feuillet's collection, but I made this note of the conversation (which took place in the presence of M. de Lavergne) to show how strong M. de Sybel's prepossessions are. I have myself again examined the documents, and though I have doubts as to one or two of them, said to proceed from the Abbe Vermond's papers, I see no reason to disbelieve the genuineness of the vast majority of the letters of the Queen which Feuillet possesses. Home on April 26th. _May_.--Dr. Watson said, dining at the Literary Club, that he had been present at the death of Lord Palmerston. He retained his usual courtesy and cheerfulness in his last illness, and when Lady Palmerston came into the room he kissed his hand to her. The immediate cause of his death was his taking a walk on the terrace at Brocket without his hat. The apothecary remonstrated--upon which he said: 'Oh! it's only what the bathers call taking a "header."' As the hour of dissolution approached he lost his consciousness, but still spoke occasionally. His last words were (apparently as if his mind was at work on a treaty) 'That's article ninety-eight; now go on to the next.' Very characteristic end. _From M. Guizot_