Karl Marx

Parliamentary Debates

From the English.

[“New-York Daily Tribune” No. 4022, 9 March 1854]

London, Tuesday, 21 February 1854.

The estimates for the army and navy have been laid before Parliament. For the army, a total strength of 112,977 men is demanded for the coming year, an increase of 10,694 men over the previous year. The total expenditure for the land forces in home and foreign service for the year ending 31 March 1855, excluding the costs for the Australian colonies and those transferred to the East India Company, amounts to £3,923,288. The total sum is £4,877,925 for 5,719 officers, 9,956 non-commissioned officers and 126,925 soldiers. The expenditure for the navy for the year ending 31 March 1855 is estimated for active service at a total of £5,979,866; this represents an increase of £1,172,446 over the previous year. The cost of transporting troops and the ordnance department amounts to £225,050, an increase of £72,100. The total for the year comes to £7,447,948. The personnel will consist of 41,000 sailors, 2,000 ship’s boys and 15,500 marines; that is a total of 58,616 men, including 116 auxiliaries.

Mr Layard had announced on the evening of last Friday that he intended to draw attention to the Eastern Question; he rose to speak just at the moment when the Speaker was about to leave his place so that the House might go into committee on the navy estimates. Shortly after 4 o’clock all the galleries were overcrowded, and by 5 o’clock the House had assembled. Two long hours were killed, to the obvious vexation of the members of the House and the public, with insipid speeches about trivialities. So greatly had the curiosity of the Honourable Gentlemen been aroused that they put off dinner until 8 o’clock in order to be present at the opening of the great debate – a rare occurrence in the parliamentary life of the members of the House of Commons.

Mr Layard, whose speech was constantly interrupted by cheers, began by declaring that the government had placed members of Parliament in such an extraordinary situation that it was difficult for them to determine their position. Before they could vote on the supplies demanded, it was the duty of the government to declare
what it intended to do
. But before he asked the government this, he wished to know
what it had already done
. He had already said last year that the government would not have become involved in the war if it had struck a tone worthier of this country; and even after carefully examining the recently published voluminous Blue Books, he had no reason to change his views. From a comparison of the contents of several despatches from different quarters he concluded that the ministry had overlooked very salient facts, completely misunderstood unmistakable tendencies, and believed quite manifestly deceptive assurances. He declared that the tragedy of Sinope had stained the honour of England, and demanded a sufficient explanation, proving from the published documents that the admirals of the combined fleets could have avoided the catastrophe, or that the Turks themselves could have prevented it, had it not been for the timid and irresolute instructions of the British government. From their latest declarations he inferred that they still wished to negotiate on the basis of the status quo ante bellum; he disapproved of this intended step. He admonished the government to do its duty in the certainty that the English people would do theirs.

Sir James Graham answered him with the impudence for which he is known: they should either trust the ministers or dismiss them. But “meanwhile let us not hold idle talk over Blue Books”. The government had been deceived by Russia, an old and faithful ally of Great Britain, but “dark, pernicious suspicion does not strike root so soon in generous minds”. This old fox, Sir Robert Peel’s “common drudge”, the murderer of the Bandieras, was truly delightful in his “generous mind” and his “aversion to suspicion”.

Then Lord Jocelyn and Lord Dudley Stuart rose, whose speeches filled the newspapers the next day but emptied the House that evening. Mr Roebuck followed, beginning by defending the conduct of the ministers in a delicate situation, but ending with the declaration that it was now time for the ministry
to declare openly what it intended to do
. Under the pretext of wishing to answer this question, Lord John Russell rose and recapitulated in an apologetic manner the history of the recent disputes, and when he saw that this was not enough, he pretended that he wanted to tell them “what the ministry intended to do”; but on this he was apparently not quite clear in his own mind. According to him, it had entered into a kind of alliance with France, not by concluding a treaty, but by an exchange of notes. England and France were now also proposing something like a treaty to Turkey, whereby the Porte might not sue for peace without their consent. The government had been cruelly taken by surprise by the indescribable baseness of the Tsar. He (Russell) had abandoned the hope that peace could be preserved. They would probably have to enter the war. He consequently needed about £3,000,000 more than in the previous year. Secrecy was a condition of success in war, and therefore he could not tell them immediately what the government would undertake in the event of war. Since the last, or rather the theatrical, part of his speech was delivered with great loudness and much moral indignation against the Tsar, “the butcher”, there was tremendous cheering, and the House, in its enthusiasm, was on the point of agreeing to the estimates when Mr Disraeli intervened and had the debate adjourned to Monday evening.

The debates were resumed yesterday evening and only ended at 2 o’clock in the morning.

Mr Cobden rose first, promising to confine himself strictly to the practical questions before them. He took great pains to prove from the Blue Books what no one disputed, namely that the French government had caused “this regrettable dispute” by the mission of M. Lavalette concerning the Holy Places and the concessions that were extorted from the Porte. The French President, who at that time had some prospect of becoming Emperor, presumably wished to make a little political capital out of these demands put to Turkey in the name of the Roman Catholic Christians. The initial steps taken by Russia can therefore be traced back to the action of France in this question. That the Vienna Note was not signed was the fault of the Allies, not of the Turkish government, for the Porte would have signed it immediately if it had been threatened with the withdrawal of the fleet from Besika Bay. We are going to war because we demanded of Turkey that it refuse, in a note to Russia, to guarantee it what we ourselves wanted to demand of it, namely a guarantee of better treatment for the Christians. The vast majority of the population of the Ottoman Empire, he said, was eagerly awaiting the success of precisely that policy which Russia was now pursuing (for instance, now in Moldavia and Wallachia). He could prove from the Blue Books themselves that the affronts and reprisals to which this Christian population was exposed could not be tolerated — drawing mainly on despatches by Lord Clarendon which were manifestly written with the intention of doing the Tsar a favour. In one of these despatches Lord Clarendon writes:

“The Porte must decide between maintaining an erroneous religious principle or losing the sympathy and assistance of its allies.”

This prompted Mr Cobden to ask:

“Does the House think it possible that a population like the fanatical Mussulmans would give up their religion? And without the complete abandonment of the precepts of the Koran it is absolutely impossible to place the Christians of Turkey on an equal footing with the Turks.”

We might just as well ask Mr Cobden whether, given the existing Established Church and the laws of England, it is possible to place the English workers on an equal footing with the Cobdens and Brights. Mr Cobden further endeavoured to prove, from the letters of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe and the British consular agents, that there was general discontent among the Christian population of Turkey which threatened to end in a general uprising. We take the liberty of asking Mr Cobden in turn whether there is not a general discontent with the governments and the ruling classes among all the peoples of Europe, a discontent which threatens soon to end in a general revolution? If — as in Turkey — a foreign army hostile to their governments had invaded Germany, Italy, France, or even Great Britain, and had unleashed the rebellious desire — would any of these countries have remained as quiet as the Christian population of Turkey?

England, entering a war in defence of Turkey, Mr Cobden concluded, was fighting for the rule of the Turkish population of the Ottoman Empire and against the interests of the majority of the people of that country. Between the Russian army on the one hand and the Turkish army on the other, a purely religious quarrel prevailed. All England’s interests bound it to Russia. The scale of its trade with Russia was enormous. If the export trade to Russia amounted to only £2,000,000, this was merely the temporary result of Russia’s still clinging to the illusions of protective tariffs. Even so, imports from Russia amounted to £13,000,000. With the exception of the United States, there was no other country with which it carried on a trade as significant as with Russia. If England was preparing for war, why then did it send land forces to Turkey, instead of employing exclusively its fleet? If the time had come for the struggle between Cossackdom and republicanism, why then did Prussia, Austria, the remaining German states, Belgium, Holland, Sweden and Denmark remain neutral, while France and England would have to fight alone? If this were a question of European importance, ought one not to assume that those closest to the danger would have to be the first to enter the fray? In conclusion, Mr Cobden declared that “he was opposed to war with Russia”. In his opinion, “the best thing would be to return to the Vienna Note”.

Lord John Manners was of the opinion that the Government was to be blamed for its inaction and dangerous carelessness. The original communications of Lord Clarendon to the governments of Russia, France and Turkey, in which, instead of acting jointly with France, he stubbornly rejected such cooperation and let the Russian government know that England would not go along with France, had induced the Emperor of Russia to give Prince Menshikov instructions which had led to the whole catastrophe. No wonder that, when England finally announced its intention of actually undertaking something at Constantinople, the French government could not help entertaining some doubts as to the sincerity of Her Majesty’s Government. It was not England that had advised the Porte to reject Prince Menshikov’s ultimatum; on the contrary, the Sultan’s ministers acted at their own peril and without any hope of assistance from England. The protracted diplomatic negotiations of the British government after the occupation of the Principalities by the Russians had been very prejudicial to the interests of Turkey and very serviceable to those of Russia. Russia had seized the Principalities without a declaration of war, in order to avoid the abrogation of those treaties which served it as an actual instrument for the oppression of Turkey. Consequently, after Turkey had declared war, it had been unwise to insist upon the renewal of those treaties as a basis for negotiation. The most important and really the most burning question now was what aims the Government was pursuing by its participation in this terrible struggle. It was proclaimed on all hands that the honour and independence of Turkey must be preserved; but it was necessary to explain in a more definite form what was to be understood by that.

Mr. Horsfall endeavoured to refute the fallacies of Mr. Cobden. The real question was not what Turkey is, but what Russia would become if she incorporated Turkey—the question, therefore, whether the Emperor of Russia was also to be the Emperor of Turkey. Russia was aiming at only one object, and that was the increase of her political power by war. Her aim was territorial extension. From the monstrous mendacity with which the Russian autocrat had taken the first step in this matter to the horrible massacre of Sinope, his proceedings had been marked by cruelty and fraud—by crimes which, even in the annals of Russia, a country whose history consisted only of crimes, were remarkable, and all the more dreadful because the Tsar dared to impiously invoke the Christian faith, whose precepts he so shamelessly outraged. The bearing of the chosen victim, on the other hand, had been admirable. After that Mr. Horsfall took great pains to excuse the vacillating course of the Government by the difficult situation in which it found itself. Hence its hesitating diplomacy. Even the appearance on the scene of all the cabinets of Europe and of the most experienced diplomats against the autocrat could not have placed him in a more difficult and intricate, a more desperate and dangerous position than either the blunders of our ministers or the autocrat’s own cunning had done. Six months ago, the Emperor Nicholas had been the mainstay of order and legitimacy in Europe; now he had thrown off the mask and stood forth as the greatest revolutionist. It was really a pleasure to see how quickly the Tsar was losing his positions, after his political intrigues had failed, he had achieved no military success in Asia, and had been thoroughly thrashed by the Turks on the Danube. It was now the duty of the Government, if hostilities were to commence, to take care that a peace should be concluded only on terms which would offer sufficient and secure guarantees against any repetition of a similar attack in future. He believed that one of the conditions for the restoration of peace must be

that Russia should indemnify Turkey for the expenses she had incurred and that Turkey should, as a material guarantee, recover the territories which had been robbed from her.

Mr. Drummond assumed that we were getting involved in a religious war and were on the point of waging a new crusade for the tomb of Godfrey de Bouillon, which was already so dilapidated that one could no longer sit upon it. As it seemed, the culprit in the disaster from the very beginning had been the Pope. England had not the slightest interest in the Turkish question, and a war between her and Russia could not be brought to any successful conclusion, since they would be fighting each other for ever and yet never would hurt each other.

“The present war will bring you nothing but hard blows.”

Mr. Cobden had some time ago offered to curb Russia, and if he were to do so now he would spare England an immense amount of trouble. What the present quarrel was really about was whether the milliners from Paris or from St. Petersburg should deck out the idols of the Holy Sepulchre. England had now discovered that Turkey was her ancient ally, which she sorely needed for the European equilibrium. How in all the world, though, could it have happened that she did not discover this before she took from Turkey the entire kingdom of Greece and before she fought the battle of Navarino, which Lord St. Helens, he remembered, had described as a remarkable one, only that on that occasion England’s blows had fallen upon the wrong party? Why did she not think of it when the Russians crossed the Balkans and she could have given effective aid to the Turks with her fleet? But now, after England had brought it about that the Ottoman Empire was extremely decrepit, she imagined she could prop up this tottering state under the pretext of the balance of power. After some sarcastic remarks about the sudden enthusiasm for Bonaparte, Mr. Drummond asked who was to become War Minister? They had all seen enough to know that a weak hand was at the helm. He did not believe that in the hands of the present administration the honour of any general or admiral would remain untarnished. It was capable of sacrificing anyone whatever to please some party of the House. If England was resolved on war, then she must direct her blows against the heart of Russia and not waste her shot in the Black Sea. As the very first thing, she must proclaim the restoration of the Kingdom of Poland. Above all, he wished to learn what the Government intended to do.

“The head of the Government,” said Mr. Drummond, “boasts of his ability to keep things secret, and once declared that he wished to see the man who could extract from him information he had not intended to give. This remark reminds me of an anecdote I once heard in Scotland: A Highlander who had travelled to India brought back to England, as a present for his wife, a parrot that could talk remarkably well. A neighbour, not wishing to be outdone, journeyed to Edinburgh and brought his wife a large owl. When he was told that the owl would never learn to speak, he replied, ‘That is certainly true, but consider what a power of thought lies within it.’”

Mr. Butt declared that this was the first time since the Revolution that a Ministry had come before the House and asked for means for the prosecution of war without giving a clear and detailed explanation of such a request. In the legal sense of the word they were not yet at war, and if the House was to vote these credits, it had a right to learn what had delayed the declaration of war against Russia. How ambiguous, moreover, was the position of the British fleet in the Black Sea! Admiral Dundas had orders to drive back Russian ships into a Russian port; and should he, in carrying out this order, destroy a Russian vessel while peace still existed with Russia—were the Ministers prepared to justify such an incident? He hoped for an explanation as to whether Turkey was to be supported on those humiliating conditions, according to which she would have to place herself in the hands of England and France for the conclusion of a peace with Russia. If England’s policy looked like that, then what was now being asked of Parliament was the granting of additional forces, not for the independence of Turkey, but for her subjugation. Mr. Butt felt some anxiety that the Ministers were merely parading these warlike preparations in order to arrive at a disgraceful peace.

Mr. S. Herbert, the War Minister, delivered a speech as flat and stupid as could hardly have been expected even from a coalition minister in so grave a crisis. The Government stood between two fires and did not know how it could ascertain the real opinion of the House on the question before it. The honourable gentlemen on the opposite side had the advantage of being able to operate with facts; they criticised the past; but the Government had not to do with facts—it could only speculate about the future. It was not so much inclined to enter this war in order to protect Turkey, as rather to oppose Russia. That was all that the House could learn from poor Mr. Herbert “about the future.” But no, he told them something quite new. According to Mr. Herbert, “Mr. Cobden represents the feeling of the most numerous class of this people.” When this assertion was contradicted from all sides of the House, Mr. Herbert added:

“If not the most numerous class, at all events the honourable member represents a large part of the working classes of this country.”

Poor Mr. Herbert! It was really refreshing when, after him, Mr. Disraeli took the floor and a genuine orator stepped into the place of the driveller.

Mr. Disraeli began with the following declaration, alluding to the theatrical declamations with which Lord John Russell had finished his speech on Friday evening:

“I have always been of opinion that every nation, and especially this one, would be far readier and more willing to bear the burden which a war inevitably imposes upon it, if it really knew what it was fighting for, than when it is driven into the struggle by flaming appeals to its passions and carried away by an excitement which, at the first moment, may well be agreeable to a minister, but which, after a few months, the inevitable consequences of ignorance, or perhaps of ignorance coupled with catastrophe, would follow.”

Thus it had been with the war of 1828/29, in which England took part on the side of Russia and not on that of Turkey. The present complicated situation and the exhausted state of Turkey in recent times must be ascribed entirely to the events of that war, in which England and France had combined against Turkey. At that time there had not been a member of the House who had any real notion of why England had entered the war or what object it was pursuing with a blow aimed at the Turkish state. For this reason, it was necessary to understand clearly the cause and the object of the present war. This could be learned only from the Blue Books. What had led to the present state of affairs could be gathered precisely from the dispatches lying on this table. The policy developed in them had prepared that future which, in the opinion of the ministers, ought to engross their full attention. He therefore protested against the doctrine of Sir James Graham. Mr Herbert had just protested against the reading of individual pages from these reports. He could not, however, promise to read the whole of these Blue Books to the House; but if the objection of the very honourable gentleman were accepted, no other course was perhaps left to him.

In the widespread opinion of all those well acquainted with the Eastern Question, and in his own also, it was not in the least Russia’s intention to conquer the Ottoman Empire by force, but by a skilful policy and by perfected methods to gain and exercise an influence over the Christian population of the Turkish Empire which would secure it the same power as if it possessed the throne of the Sultan’s realm. At the very beginning of these negotiations, Count Nesselrode himself had set forth Russia’s policy clearly and plainly in his dispatches of January and June 1853. Preponderance in the Turkish Empire was to be achieved by exercising a special influence over 12 million people, the great majority of the Sultan’s subjects. In the Russian dispatches to the British Government this policy was not only explained, but the British Government was also told quite openly how it was to be carried out – not by conquest, but by upholding the existing treaties and extending their interpretation. Thus from the very beginning of this momentous dispute the basis of the diplomatic campaign had been seen in a treaty – the Treaty of Kuchuk Kainardji. This treaty places the Christian subjects of the Porte under the special protection of the Sultan; but according to the interpretation which Russia gave to this treaty, the Christian subjects of the Sultan were placed specifically under the protection of the Tsar. On the basis of the same treaty, Russia could make representations for the protection of its new church – a building in Bey Oglu Street; according to the Russian interpretation of the corresponding article in the treaty, Russia was entitled to intervene for the protection of every church of the Greek Orthodox confession and, of course, of all communities of this faith within the Sultan’s dominions, who at the same time comprise the great majority of his subjects. That was the openly avowed interpretation of the Treaty of Kuchuk Kainardji by Russia. On the other hand, one could learn from a dispatch of Sir Hamilton Seymour dated 8 January 1853 that Count Nesselrode had informed Sir Hamilton, and the latter in turn Lord Clarendon, “it was necessary to support Russia’s diplomacy by a demonstration of armed force.” According to the same dispatch, Count Nesselrode’s conviction that this question would be brought to a satisfactory conclusion rested on “the efforts which Her Majesty’s ambassadors in Paris and Constantinople would undertake.” Russia had immediately declared thereafter that a demonstration of armed force remained only a demonstration, but that the goal must be achieved by peaceful means through the efforts of the English ambassadors in Paris and Constantinople.

“Now, Sir,” continued Mr Disraeli, “I should like to know how these ambassadors reacted to such a combination – after this exposition of the goal, this enumeration of the means, and in this diplomacy.”

It was unnecessary to touch upon the question of the Holy Places. This was indeed soon settled in Constantinople. Even Count Nesselrode, at the very beginning of these negotiations, had expressed his surprise and satisfaction at France’s conciliatory attitude and had spoken approvingly of it. Throughout this entire time, however, Russia had concentrated its forces on the Turkish frontiers and Count Nesselrode had told Lord Clarendon that his government would demand an equivalent compensation for the privileges which the Greek Orthodox Church had lost in Jerusalem and in the settlement of which his government had not been consulted. Even Prince Menshikov’s mission had been mentioned at that time, as various dispatches of Sir Hamilton Seymour showed. Lord John Russell had told them last time that Count Nesselrode’s behaviour was that of a fraud. On the other hand, Lord John Russell confessed that Count Nesselrode incessantly declared that his imperial master would demand an equivalent compensation for the Greek Orthodox Church; but at the same time he complained that Count Nesselrode had never told them what he wanted.

“Malicious Count Nesselrode!” (Laughter.) “Roguish falseness of Russian statesmen!” (Laughter.) “Why could the noble lord not find out what he wished to know? What is Sir Hamilton Seymour doing in St. Petersburg if he may not request the necessary information?”

If Count Nesselrode never told him what he wanted, it was because the noble lord never ventured to ask him. At this stage of affairs the ministers were obliged to put categorical questions to the St. Petersburg Cabinet. If the latter could not set out what it really wanted, then it was time for the British Government to declare that the friendly services in Paris and Constantinople were at an end. When Lord John Russell had resigned his office and Lord Clarendon replaced him, the character of the diplomatic proceedings had altered in Russia’s favour. When Lord Clarendon became Foreign Secretary, he had to draw up instructions for Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, the Queen’s ambassador, with which the latter proceeded to the scene of action. But what did these instructions look like? At a time when Turkey was in the utmost distress and embarrassment, one preached to her internal and commercial reforms. She was given to understand that her conduct must be distinguished by the greatest moderation and prudence, which meant that she would have to agree to Russia’s demands. Meanwhile the government continued to fail to demand an unequivocal explanation of what Russia actually intended. Prince Menshikov arrived in Constantinople. After Lord Clarendon had received extremely disquieting dispatches from Colonel Rose and warning communications from Sir Hamilton Seymour, he had, in a letter to Lord Cowley, the British ambassador in Paris, censured Colonel Rose’s order for the British fleet to put to sea and had regretted the order to the French admiral to sail for Greek waters, while honouring France with the disdainful lesson “that a policy of mistrust was neither wise nor safe,” and declared that he fully trusted the solemn assurances of the Emperor of Russia to maintain the Turkish Empire. Then Lord Clarendon wrote to his ambassador in Constantinople that he was quite certain the objects of Prince Menshikov’s mission, “whatever they might be, endangered neither the Sultan’s power nor the integrity of his dominions.” Indeed, Lord Clarendon went so far as to accuse England’s only ally in Europe: the reason why England now feared complications in the Orient was solely the attitude France had for a time taken up towards the Holy Places. Accordingly, Count Nesselrode had congratulated Lord Aberdeen on the “beau rôle” (translated in the Blue Book as “important role”) which he had played in ensuring that France remained “isolée” (“isolated”). On 1 April, England had learned through Colonel Rose of the secret agreement that Russia was demanding from Turkey. Only ten days later, Lord Stratford had arrived in Constantinople and confirmed Colonel Rose’s statements. After all this, Lord Clarendon wrote on 16 May to Sir H. Seymour that “the declarations of the Emperor of Russia” – declarations not contained in the Blue Books – “removed all grounds for the fears which all Europe had understandably entertained on account of Prince Menshikov’s proceedings in connection with the military preparations in the south of Russia.” Thereupon Count Nesselrode felt he could audaciously inform Lord Clarendon on 20 June that Russia had occupied the Principalities. In this document Count Nesselrode declared “that the Emperor intended to occupy the provinces as a material guarantee until satisfaction was rendered to him; that by this proceeding he had remained true to his declarations to the English Government; that in exchanging with the London Cabinet opinions about the military preparations which coincided with the opening of negotiations he did not conceal that the time might yet come when he would see himself compelled to avail himself of England’s help, while he congratulated the English Government on the friendly intentions it had shown, contrasted its attitude with that of France, and placed all the blame for future failures of Prince Menshikov on Lord Stratford.” After all this Lord Clarendon drew up a circular on 4 July, in which he still hoped for the justice and moderation of the Emperor and invoked the Emperor’s repeated declaration that he would respect the integrity of the Turkish Empire. On 18 July he wrote to Lord Stratford that “France and England could certainly vanquish Russia if they were only in earnest, but Turkey might in the meantime be utterly devastated, and therefore peaceful negotiations were the only correct course.”

But what was a good argument then, is a good argument now. Either the government allows itself to be guided by a confidence of this kind, a confidence already verging on morbid credulity, or it is guilty of favouritism. The cause of the war must be sought in the manner in which Her Majesty’s Government conducted the negotiations during the last seven months. If it is credulity, then Russia, through its faithless attitude, may have hastened the outbreak of a struggle that was perhaps unavoidable, a struggle through which the independence of Europe, the security of England and of civilisation could be won. If it is favouritism, then it will be a timid, an irresolute war, a war without result or, rather, with precisely the results that were originally intended. On 25 April, Lord Clarendon made the untrue statement in the House of Lords that Menschikov’s mission consisted in settling the dispute concerning the Holy Places, although he knew that this did not correspond to the truth. Next, Mr Disraeli set out in brief the history of the Vienna Note, in order to prove either the complete stupidity of the ministry or the ministry’s favouritism towards the Court of St Petersburg. He then came to speak of the third period, the pause that lay between the failure of the Vienna Note and the battle of Sinope. At that time, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr Gladstone, had spoken of Turkey at a public meeting in a most contemptuous tone. The semi-official newspapers did the same. It was the energy of the Turks themselves that altered the situation and the fate of Turkey and induced the cabinet to adopt a different tone. But scarcely had the battle of Oltenitza been fought than the policy of credulity or the policy of favouritism again began its dirty work. The massacre of Sinope, however, once more worked in favour of the Turks. The fleets received orders to enter the Black Sea. Yet what did they do? They returned to the Bosporus! As regards the future, Lord John Russell had explained the conditions of England’s alliance with France only very vaguely. Mr Disraeli admonished that one should not confuse the preservation of the balance of power with the preservation of the present territorial arrangement of Europe. The future of Italy depended chiefly on the recognition of this truth.

After the brilliant speech of Mr Disraeli, which I have naturally reproduced only in its main outlines, Lord Palmerston took the floor and suffered a complete fiasco. He partly repeated the speech he had made at the close of the last session, defended the ministry’s policy in a scarcely convincing manner, and was extremely anxious to let fall no word that might contain new information.

On the motion of Sir J. Graham, several items of the naval estimates were then voted without discussion.

The most remarkable thing about these heated debates, finally, is that the House utterly failed to extract from the ministers a formal declaration of war against Russia, or even a statement of the aims for which they wish to plunge into war. The House and the public know no more now than they did before. They have received no new information whatsoever.

Karl Marx