In Knickerbocker’s ‘History of New York’ we have a very graphic description of the ship in which the first Dutch explorers sailed for the shores of North America. “The vessel was called the _Goede Vrouw_ (Good Woman), a compliment to the wife of the President of the West India Company, who was allowed by every one, except her husband, to be a sweet-tempered lady--when not in liquor. It was, in truth, a gallant vessel of the most approved Dutch construction--made by the ablest ship-carpenters of Amsterdam, who, as is well known, always model their ships after the fair forms of their countrywomen. Accordingly, it had one hundred feet in the keel, one hundred feet in the beam, and one hundred feet from the bottom of the stern-post to the taffrel. Like the beauteous model, who was declared to be the greatest belle of Amsterdam, it was full in the bows, with a pair of enormous cat-heads, a copper-bottom, and withal a prodigious poop.” It is, however, with her sailing qualities we are more interested than with her build. “Thus she made as much lee-way as head-way--could get along nearly as fast with the wind ahead as at poop, and was particularly great in a calm.” Would not one say, in reading this description, that the humorist was giving prophetically a picture of the England of the present day, making as much lee-way as head-way, none the better, wherever the winds came from, and only great in a calm? The very last touch he gives is exquisite. “Thus gallantly furnished, she floated out of harbour sideways, like a majestic goose.” Can anything be more perfect; can anything more neatly typify the course the vessel of the State is taking, “floating out sideways, like a majestic goose!” amidst the jeers and mockeries of beholding Europe. Our whole policy consists in putting forward some hypothetical case, in which, if certain other states were to do something which would cause another country to do something else, then England would be found in that case---- God forgive me! I was going to quote some of that balderdash which reminds one of ‘The Rivals,’ where Acres says, “If you had called me a poltroon, Sir Lucas!” “Well, sir, and if I had?” “In that case I should have thought you a very ill-bred man.” See what it is to have a literary Foreign Secretary; see how he goes back to our great writers, not alone for his style, but his statesmanship. We have been insulted, mocked, and sneered at; our national honour derided, our national strength defied; but we are told it is all right: our policy is a “masterly inactivity,” and the Funds are at ninety-one and one-eighth!