He informed me that Wylde (to whom the Prince is in the habit of talking very openly) told him that the Prince had been discussing with him the possibility of some change of government being rendered necessary by Lord John's health breaking down, and that they would like him (Clarendon) to succeed him, and that if such an event occurred, the Queen would certainly send for him to consult him on the subject. Clarendon desired him to take an opportunity of telling the Prince that no power on earth should induce him to accept such a post, and as it was much better the Queen should never make an overture which would not be accepted, he wished none such might ever be made to him. He then gave his reasons for considering himself disqualified. I told him they would not accept his excuses, because since his Irish administration he had acquired a reputation which rendered him in the eyes of the world fit for any post, but that I understood well why for various reasons he might wish to decline the office. He said he could not speak, and had not had parliamentary experience enough, having come too late into the House of Lords, and never having been in the House of Commons. Finally he begged me to tell anybody who suggested such a possible contingency, that no power on earth would ever induce him to take it. But I don't think he was displeased when I told him I should certainly not say that, because I did not consider it so absolutely impossible, and that events might occur, and the state of parties be such, that his acceptance of the post would become a matter of public duty on his part. The truth is, he is sincere in his disclaimer, but with an _arriËre pensÈe_ of ambition, which not unnaturally smiles on the idea of such a prodigious elevation. _December 9th._--I dined on Tuesday last with Milman, Guizot, Macaulay, and Hallam; Macaulay receiving felicitations with great modesty and compliments on his book,[80] of which the whole impression was sold off, and not a copy was to be got, though it had only been out three days. Macaulay and Hallam talked of a branch of our literature of which Guizot, well informed as he is, could know nothing. Macaulay's French is detestable, the most barbarous accent that ever has _ÈcorchÈ les oreilles_ of a Parisian. [Footnote 80: [Lord Macaulay's 'History,' or at least the first two volumes of it, had just been published.]]