Sir, I have now brought events to the period when Parliament met, trespassing, I fear, too much on the indulgence of the House; but honourable members will remember that, in order to give this narrative to-day, it was necessary for me to peruse 1,500 printed folio pages, and I trust I have done no more than advert to those passages to which it was requisite to direct attention in order that the House might form a complete and candid opinion of the case. I will not dwell, or only for the slightest possible time, on what occurred upon the meeting of Parliament. Sir, when we met there were no papers; and I remember that when I asked for papers there was not, I will frankly say, on both sides of the House, a sufficient sense of the very great importance of the occasion, and of the singular circumstance that the papers were not presented to us. It turned out afterwards from what fell from the Secretary of State in another place, that it was never intended that the papers should be presented at the meeting of Parliament. The noble lord at the head of the Government treated the inquiry for papers in a jaunty way, and said, 'Oh! you shall have papers, and I wish you joy of them.' That was the tone of the First Minister in reference to the most important diplomatic correspondence ever laid before Parliament since the rupture of the Treaty of Amiens: but we are all now aware of the importance of these transactions. It was weeks--months almost--before we became masters of the case, but during the interval the most disastrous circumstances occurred, showing the increased peril and danger of Denmark, and the successes of the invaders of her territory. We all remember their entrance into Jutland. We all remember the inquiries which were made on the subject, and the assurances which were given. But it was impossible for the House to pronounce any opinion, because the papers were not before it, and the moment we had the papers, a Conference was announced.