is, a small cloud may arise, at first no bigger than a man's hand, but which, growing bigger and bigger, may at last threaten to overwhelm us with ruin. What has happened once may happen again. The disturbing causes have diminished certainly, but are not dispelled. We have still discontented and heterogeneous peoples united under our sway; we have still neighbours before whom we cannot altogether lay aside our watchfulness; and we have a frontier configuration which renders it possible that at any moment causes of collision may arise. Besides, so intricate are our relations with some subsidiary States that I doubt whether, in an Empire so vast and so situated, it is in the power of the wisest Government, the most peaceful and the most forbearing, to command peace. But if we cannot command, we can at any rate deserve it by taking care that honour, good faith, and fair dealing are on our side: and then, if, in spite of us, it should become necessary to strike a blow, we can strike with a clear conscience. With blows so dealt, the struggle must be short and the issue not doubtful.'
The grave and melodious voice rang through the great assembly and created a profound impression. Lord Canning's hearers, some of whom had never heard him speak and others who had only heard his ordinary Parliamentary replies, felt that they were listening to no common man. They were noble words, instinct with a high purpose, a pledge, pure and high-toned. Nobly was Canning destined to redeem it.
