in your sincerity throughout. It is only your intense incapacity that I denounce. The passage in the dispatch is Shakespearian; it is one of those dramatic descriptions which only a masterly pen could accomplish. Lord Cowley went on:
Her Majesty's Government felt that if the two Powers could agree, war might be avoided; otherwise the danger of war was imminent. M. Drouyn de Lhuys said he partook this opinion; but as his Excellency made no further observation, I remarked it would be a grievous thing if the difference of opinion which had arisen upon the merits of a general Congress were to produce an estrangement which would leave each Government to pursue its own course. I hoped that this would not be the case. Her Majesty's Government would do all in their power to avoid it. I presumed I might give them the assurance that the Imperial Government were not decided to reject the notion of a Conference. (No. 4, 444.)
Well, Sir, this received a curt and unsatisfactory reply. Nothing could be obtained from the plaintive appeal of Lord Cowley. Well, what did Her Majesty's Government do? Having received information that the threat of federal execution had been fulfilled, having appealed to France, and been treated in the manner I have described, what did the Government do? Why, the Secretary of State, within twenty-four hours afterwards, penned the fiercest dispatch he had ever yet written. It is dated December 31, 1863, and it is addressed to Sir Andrew Buchanan: