nor can I complain that there was any forgetful-ness of due respect. I could not accept their invitation to a second dinner at Greenwich, but deferred it till my return from Ireland. “I came on here on Wednesday last, and if you ask me what I have done, my answer is, Nothing--absolutely nothing. I have been four several times at the office where Sewell presides, but always to meet the same reply, 'Not in town to-day;' and now I learn that he is hunting somewhere in Cheshire. I am averse to going after him to the Chief Baron's house, where he resides, and am yet uncertain how to act. It is just possible he may have learned that I am in Ireland, and is keeping out of my way, though I have neglected no precaution of secrecy, have taken a humble lodging some miles from town, and have my letters addressed to the post-office to be called for. Up to this I have not met one who knows me. The Viceroy is away in England, and in broken health,--indeed, so ill that his return to Ireland is more than doubtful; and Balfour, who might have recognized me, is happily so much occupied with the 'Celts,' as the latest rebels call themselves, that he has no time to go much abroad. “The papers which I have sent you regularly since my arrival will inform you about this absurd movement. You will also see the debate on your grandfather. He will not retire, do all that they may; and now, as a measure of insult, they have named a special commission and omitted his name. “They went so far as to accuse him of senile weakness and incapacity; but the letter which has been published with his name is one of the most terrific pieces of invective I ever read: I will try and get a copy to send you.