ONE notice delivered by Mr. Urquhart must have fallen like balm upon the scarified mind of Lord Palmerston. We do not mean the notice of a demand for correspondence respecting " the now concluded negotiations which led to the presence, in the course of last year, of a British squadron in the Bay of Naples" 7-that was in the dilettante-diplomatist's usual style of terrible signification. We mean the one which followed, and which in- dicates a total change in the current of the Urquhartian ideas- ' To ask the Secretary to the Admiralty, if he will lay on the table of the House the reports received from her Majesty's ships on foreign stations" So far the notice seems as dreadful as usual : you expect that the reports wanted are to treat of thunder and cannon, or the neglect to put an embroidered table-napkin before some foreign potentate, an improper enumeration of guns in a salute, or the illicit bombardment of cities; in short, some of those diplomatic crimes which Mr. Urquhart so patriotically keeps before the country. No such thing : the reports are to be —" On the use of Moone's prepared milk." "Mild as the moon- beams," nay, as moon-beams quenched in milk ! Sickened with the political world, Mr. Urquhart turns to look after the affairs of the milkman in the moon ; leaves diplomacy for the dairy. He who has cast firebrands into the Foreign Office, and preached a crusade against the Great Bear of the North from the Baltic to the Black Sea, would now pour "the sweet milk of concord" over our ships of war, their gunpowder and guns.