what fell from the Secretary of State in another place, that it was never intended that the papers should be presented at the meeting of Parliament. The noble lord at the head of the Government treated the inquiry for papers in a jaunty way, and said, 'Oh! you shall have papers, and I wish you joy of them.' That was the tone of the First Minister in reference to the most important diplomatic correspondence ever laid before Parliament since the rupture of the Treaty of Amiens: but we are all now aware of the importance of these transactions. It was weeks—months almost—before we became masters of the case, but during the interval the most disastrous circumstances occurred, showing the increased peril and danger of Denmark, and the successes of the invaders of her territory. We all remember their entrance into Jutland. We all remember the inquiries which were made on the subject, and the assurances which were given. But it was impossible for the House to pronounce any opinion, because the papers were not before it, and the moment we had the papers, a Conference was announced.
One word with respect to the Conference. I never was of opinion that the Conference would arrive at any advantageous result. I could not persuade myself, after reading the papers, that, whatever might be the cause, any one seriously wished for a settlement, except, of course, Her Majesty's Ministers, and they had a reason for it. The Conference lasted six weeks. It wasted six weeks. It lasted as long as a carnival, and, like a carnival, it was an affair of masks and mystification. Our Ministers went to it as men in distressed circumstances go to a place of amusement—to while away
