It was noble and brave of him, but it could never be allowed. The Prince was too dear to the nation—better a thousand lesser men be sacrificed than he. And, besides, this would be such an antiquated form of warfare; it would make England ridiculous in the eyes of the world. Nor would France agree to it. And who had she that was the peer of the Prince whom England loved? Such things, as soon as the speakers had found their tongues, were said one after the other, without in the least abating the resolution of the Prince. He would not be convinced, and he prayed them not to hinder him. The Republic of France, he was sure, had been growing to hate war more and more during the last few years; and if Frenchmen wished to fight, it was certainly not with England. Moreover, the times were new, and new ideas had taken possession of the people in all civilised countries. If some, still uncivilised, chose to laugh, what did it matter, since the quarrel was none of theirs? Let England and France be satisfied, and nothing more was needed. So said the Prince, and more than a few agreed with him; and when the time for closing the debate came a resolution was unanimously passed, thanking the Prince for his magnanimous offer, and begging him to attend the meeting of the House on that day week in order to receive the reply of England. Next morning the whole country was in a state of ferment. A good many people tried to laugh off the whole circumstance as if it were something too absurd to be worthy of sober consideration. But it was soberly considered none the less; and it was soon apparent that a very large proportion of the English people came to feel that the Prince’s offer ought to be accepted. Not at first. At first there was a universal howl against it. There were many men whose names were mentioned as far more suitable for the sacrifice than he. But though the nation could compel fifty thousand people to fight at its command, it was quite impossible for them to compel any one man to do so; and though volunteers were not wanting, the Prince would not yield. The New Party was unanimous in the opinion that the Prince should be allowed to have his will, if France were willing. They loved the Prince as dearly as the rest, but they saw that because his life was so precious, it was the one to be forfeited. Its value would make it acceptable to the French nation, and the fact that the Prince would fight any man France might send would go far to pacify that high-spirited people. Moreover, if the Prince were killed, his death would be more mighty than any other force could possibly be toward that on which their hearts were set, the abolition and extermination of war.