On the 13th of July I went to the sitting of the Corps Législatif to learn what were the prospects of war. In the tribune of the diplomatic corps I met the Spanish Embassador. He told me that peace was assured, as he had persuaded Prince Hohenzollern to decline the proffered crown of Spain, and that now nothing remained to fight about. On the 14th, I went again. I found Lord Lyons there, and, falling into conversation with him, he left the impression upon my mind that there would be war, for the proffered mediation of England had failed. Lord Lyons had come to the sitting expecting to hear an authoritative declaration by the Government, and this declaration he thought would be warlike. I at once telegraphed to Mr. Fish that the chances were strongly in favor of war. This, and all our subsequent telegrams in cipher, were delayed by the French Government for twenty-four hours, probably with a view to decipher them. On the 15th I was again at the _séance_, and heard the warlike declaration made by the Government. It was not the formal declaration of war, but was equivalent to it. Thereupon Mr. Thiers rose, and attempted to address the House in a speech deprecating hostilities. The scene that followed was indescribable and most disgraceful to any legislative body. The great mass of the members sprung to their feet, pointed their fingers at the orator, yelled, and shouted "_Traître, traître! Allez à Berlin!_" The little man stood like a rock, and when the tumult had somewhat subsided, I could hear his shrill, piping voice raised in solemn warning against the step they were about to take. The Government had stated that their embassador had been insulted by the King of Prussia. Mr. Thiers asked that the dispatches might be produced, that the Assembly might judge for itself. This the Government refused; and, on a show of hands, but twenty members--among whom were Favre, Arago, Simon, Pelletan, and others, most of them afterward prominent in the Government of the National Defense--voted with Thiers.