Is it not then manifest, to use the language of Mr. Livingston in his note to the Count de Rigny of the 3d August, 1834, that the French government have never appreciated the importance of the subject at its just value? There are two modes in which the king could have manifested this anxious desire faithfully to fulfil the treaty. These are, by words and by actions. When a man’s words and his actions correspond, you have the highest evidence of his sincerity. Even then he may be a hypocrite in the eyes of that Being before whom the fountains of human action are unveiled. But when a man’s words and his actions are at variance,—when he promises and does not perform or even attempt to perform,—when “he speaks the word of promise to the ear and breaks it to the hope,”—the whole world will at once pronounce him insincere. If this be true in the transactions of common life, with how much more force does it apply to the intercourse between diplomatists? The deceitfulness of diplomacy has become almost a proverb. In Europe the talent of over-reaching gives a minister the glory of diplomatic skill. The French school has been distinguished in this art. To prove it, I need only mention the name of Talleyrand. The American school teaches far different lessons. On this our success has, in a great degree, depended. The skillful diplomatists of Europe are foiled by the downright honesty and directness of purpose which have characterized all our negotiations. Even the established forms of diplomacy contain much unmeaning language, which is perfectly understood by everybody, and deceives nobody. If ministers have avowed their sincerity, and their ardent desire to execute the treaty; to deny them, on our part, would be insulting, and might lead to the most unpleasant consequences. In forming an estimate of their intentions, therefore, every wise man will regard their actions, rather than their words. By their deeds they shall be known. Let us then test the French government by this touchstone of truth.