Yesterday the announcement of Lord Wellesley's appointment to be Lord Lieutenant of Ireland was received with as great astonishment as I ever saw. Once very brilliant, probably never very efficient, he is now worn out and _effete_. It is astonishing that they should send such a man, and one does not see why, because it is difficult to find a good man, they should select one of the very worst they could hit upon. It is a ridiculous appointment, which is the most objectionable of all. For years past he has lived entirely out of the world. He comes to the House of Lords, and talks of making a speech every now and then, of which he is never delivered, and he comes to Court, where he sits in a corner and talks (as those who know him say) with as much fire and liveliness as ever, and with the same neat, shrewd causticity that formerly distinguished him; but such scintillations as these prove nothing as to his fitness for business and government, and as he was quite unfit for these long ago, it is scarcely to be supposed that retirement and increased age and infirmities should have made him less so now.[2] They have judiciously waited till Parliament is up before the appointment was made known. Lord Wellesley is said to be in the hands of Blake the Remembrancer, a dangerous Jesuitical fellow. [2] [This opinion of Lord Wellesley was, however, speedily changed by his successful and vigorous administration of Ireland. See _infra_, November 14th.] September 10th, 1833 {p.031} At Gorhambury on Saturday till Monday. Dined on Friday with Talleyrand, a great dinner to M. Thiers, the French Minister of Commerce, a little man, about as tall as Sheil, and as mean and vulgar looking, wearing spectacles, and with a squeaking voice. He was editor of the 'National,' an able writer, and one of the principal instigators of the Revolution of July. It is said that he is a man of great ability and a good speaker, more in the familiar English than the bombastical French style. Talleyrand has a high opinion of him. He wrote a history of the Revolution, which he now regrets; it is well done, but the doctrine of fatalism which he puts forth in it he thinks calculated to injure his reputation as a statesman. I met him again at dinner at Talleyrand's yesterday with another great party, and last night he started on a visit to Birmingham and Liverpool.