(2.) An act so essentially unfriendly in character, and also in the alacrity with which it was done, too clearly indicated an unfriendly sentiment, easily stimulated to menace of war. And this menace was not wanting, when, soon afterwards, the two Rebel emissaries on board the Trent were seized by a patriotic, brave commander, whose highest fault was, that, in the absence of instructions from his own Government, he followed British precedents only too closely. This accident--for such it was, and nothing else--assumed at once overshadowing proportions. With indefensible exaggeration, it was changed by the British nation, backed by the British Government, into a _casus belli_,--as if an unauthorized incident, obviously involving no question of self-defence, could justify war between two civilized nations. And yet, in the face of positive declaration from the United States, communicated by our minister at London, that it was an accident, the British Government _made preparations to take part with Rebel Slavery_, and fitly began such an ignoble proceeding by keeping back from the British people the official despatch of 30th November, 1861, where our Government, after announcing that Captain Wilkes had acted “without any instructions,” expresses a “trust that the British Government would consider the subject in a friendly temper,” and promises “the best disposition” on our part.[7] It is painful to recall this exhibition. But it belongs to history, and we cannot forget the lesson it teaches.