Even so, Alexander II. showed every desire of averting the horrors of war. Speaking to the British ambassador at St. Petersburg on November 2, he said that the present state of affairs in Turkey "was intolerable, and unless Europe was prepared to act with firmness and energy, he should be obliged to act alone." But he pledged his word that he desired no aggrandisement, and that "he had not the smallest wish or intention to be possessed of Constantinople[107]." At this time proposals for a Conference of the Powers at Constantinople were being mooted: they had been put forth by the British Government on October 5. There seemed, therefore, to be some hope of a compromise if the Powers reunited so as to bring pressure to bear on Turkey; for, a week later, the Sultan announced his intention of granting a constitution, with an elected Assembly to supervise the administration. But hopes of peace as well as of effective reform in Turkey were damped by the warlike speech of Lord Beaconsfield at the Lord Mayor's banquet on November 9. He then used these words. If Britain draws the sword "in a righteous cause; if the contest is one which concerns her liberty, her independence, or her Empire, her resources, I feel, are inexhaustible. She is not a country that, when she enters into a campaign, has to ask herself whether she can support a second or a third campaign." On the next day the Czar replied in a speech at Moscow to the effect that if the forthcoming Conference at Constantinople did not lead to practical results, Russia would be forced to take up arms; and he counted on the support of his people. A week later 160,000 Russian troops were mobilised. [Footnote 107: Hertslet, iv. p. 2508.] The issue was thus clear as far as concerned Russia. It was not so clear for Great Britain. Even now, we are in ignorance as to the real intent of Lord Beaconsfield's speech at the Guildhall. It seems probable that, as there were divisions in his Cabinet, he may have wished to bring about such a demonstration of public feeling as would strengthen his hands in proposing naval and military preparations. The duties of a Prime Minister are so complex that his words may be viewed either in an international sense, or as prompted by administrative needs, or by his relations to his colleagues, or, again, they may be due merely to electioneering considerations. Whatever their real intent on this occasion, they were interpreted by Russia as a defiance and by Turkey as a promise of armed help. On the other hand, if Lord Beaconsfield hoped to strengthen the pro-Turkish feeling in the Cabinet and the country, he failed. The resentment aroused by Turkish methods of rule and repression was too deep to be eradicated even by his skilful appeals to Imperialist sentiment. The Bulgarian atrocities had at least brought this much of good: they rendered a Turco-British alliance absolutely impossible.