To Count Bernstorff, the Prussian Ambassador in London, Lord Russell said, “that Her Majesty’s Government could not wonder that the King of Denmark was ready to defend Schleswig and to consider its hostile occupation as a fatal blow to the integrity of his dominions. But I could not doubt that he would be assisted by Powers friendly to Denmark in that defence ... I said that since the month of May, Great Britain had warned Austria of these dangers, that Russia and Germany had likewise been warned, but that the voice of England was unheeded,” etc., etc. Acting on instructions from the Foreign Secretary, Lord Napier told Prince Gortchakoff that “the pressing necessity for arresting warlike preparations, and combining the Powers less directly interested in the controversy for a mediation, was proved by the fact that an attack upon Schleswig seemed imminent, and that if that attempt was made it seemed not improbable that the Germans might find themselves confronted by the armed intervention of Great Britain.” It was not “the voice of England” that was unheeded, as Lord Russell put it, but his own. He was like Bottom the weaver, “Let me play the lion too; I will roar that I will do any man’s heart good to hear me; I will roar that I will make the Duke say, ‘Let him roar again, let him roar again.’” Then lest he should frighten the Duchess and the ladies—“I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an ’twere any nightingale.” The publication by the French Foreign Office of the report by M. Reinack of the Commission charged to inquire into “Les Origines Diplomatiques de la Guerre de 1870” has thrown a flood of light upon the negotiations which took place in regard to the Danish Question of 1863-4; it is not pleasant reading for Englishmen; a review of the first two volumes of these revelations in the _Figaro_ of the 6th of September, 1910, by the Comte d’Haussonville shows the position to which England had fallen in the Councils of Europe. “L’Angleterre s’agite” (this is, of course, the historic present), “mais ce n’est pas un Dieu qui la mène. Ce n’est personne. On ne sent point, comme à certains moments de son histoire, la main ferme d’un véritable homme d’état: au début du dix-neuvième siècle un Pitt; à la fin un Disraeli qui sait ce qu’il se propose et où il veut conduire son pays.”