admitted, commenced with premature capture and anticipated hostilities on the part of Great Britain.  But—­be that as it may—­I wrote to Sir C. Stuart, as soon as the intelligence reached this country, desiring him to require an explanation of the affair; the reply, as I have said, arrived yesterday by a telegraphic communication from Paris.  It runs thus:—­’Paris, April 28, 1823.  We have not received anything official as to the prize made by the Jean Bart.  This vessel had no instructions to make any such capture.  If this capture has really been made, there must have been some particular circumstances which were the cause of it.  In any case, the French Government will see justice done.’  I have thought it right to clear up this transaction, and to show the promptitude of the French Government in giving the required explanation, I now return to the more immediate subject of discussion, and pass from France to Spain.

It has been maintained that it was an insult to the Spanish Government to ask them, as we did, for assurances of the safety of the Royal Family of Spain.  Have I not already accounted for that suggestion?  I have shown that one of the causes of war, prospectively agreed upon at Verona, was any act of personal violence to the King of Spain or his family.  I endeavoured, therefore, to obtain such assurances from Spain as should remove the apprehension of any such outrage; not because the British Cabinet thought those assurances necessary, but because it might be of the greatest advantage to the cause of Spain, that we should be able to proclaim our conviction, that upon this point there was nothing to apprehend; that we should thus possess the means of proving to France that she had no case, arising out of the conferences of Verona, to justify a war.  Such assurances Spain might have refused—­she would have refused them—­to France.  To us she might, she did give them, without lowering her dignity.

And here I cannot help referring, with some pain, to a speech delivered by an honourable and learned friend of mine (Sir J. Mackintosh), last night, in which he dwelt upon this subject in a manner totally unlike himself.  He pronounced a high-flown eulogy upon M. Arguelles; he envied him, he said, for many things, but he envied him most for the magnanimity which he had shown in sparing his Sovereign.

[Sir J. Mackintosh said that he had only used the word ‘sparing’, as sparing the delicacy, not the life of the King.]

I am glad to have occasioned this explanation.  I have no doubt that my honourable and learned friend must have intended so to express himself, for I am sure that he must agree with me in thinking that nothing could be more pernicious than to familiarize the world with the contemplation of events so calamitous.  I am sure that my honourable and learned friend would not be forward to anticipate for the people of Spain an outrage so alien to their character.