officered, and the want of vigour and unanimity at home is very sadly apparent. Lord John would perhaps sniff and snort could he read this--and what in sooth _can_ I know about the matter? Yet sure it is that men of genius and vigour have been in politics, and it wants no ghosts to tell us that Austria is false at heart, and Russia in want of vigorous licking. 10th.--... I hope Sebastopol is done; I hope also White will come and be done. Could I but see him here once more, That shining bald-pate deep old file, Oh how I’d meet him at my door, And greet him with a pleasant smile! His blarney soft I’d suck it in, Nor let his comments stir my bile; And when my hand once grasped his tin How kindly on him I would smile! And as he strained my hand, full fain My daubs were in his cab the while, And promised soon to come again, Oh how I’d smile him back his smile! 11th.--The field again.--Sunshine when I did not want it, cold and wind when it went. Worked at the trees and improved them--found the turnips too difficult to do anything with of a serious kind. I don’t know if it would be possible to paint them well; they change from day to day. An unpleasant and profitless day (eight hours). 12th.--Up latish--bath. Saw my turnips were all false in colour: ruminated over this disgrace, and tried to retrieve it. Put it in some shape, ready to take out in the afternoon. Set to work at the coat from lay figure in back yard--very cold--worked till four at it. Then to the swedes. Found the gate nailed up and brambled; had to go round by a _détour_, but in and set to work; but not much good. Tried to get the main tree more in harmony; a little to the swedes--men in the field pulling them. At night the cartoon (seven hours). 13th.--Beautiful day. Meant to walk into Hampstead, feeling strangely idle. Emma, being better of her cramp, came for a walk instead. Exquisite day: hedges all gold, rubies, and emeralds, defying all “white grounds” to yield the like. About one to work at the coat from self in a glass, back yard. Altered the folds of day before; made it all right, nearly done. Afterwards to the field--for last time, thank Heaven. I am sick of it; I have now only to work at home at it to put in a little harmony. A labourer came and looked, and, stuttering fearfully, expressed admiration, which ended in his supposing he could not beg half a pint of beer--one whom I used to look upon as a respectable man. I gave the degraded wretch twopence and scorn (five hours).