It is easy enough to be wise after the event and to see that Midhat ought to have put his foot down on this question and accepted the decisive battle thus offered him by the Sultan; that it ought to have been clear to him that this was only the first contest in a campaign that would decide the fate of Turkey during the whole of the coming reign, and that the first blow would probably decide the issue in the campaign. But our perspective of things is of course better than was Midhat’s. By the light of all the subsequent events that have unrolled themselves before our eyes, we now know the character of all the actors in the drama which was commencing, especially of the principal actor, and of this very First Secretary, who was the appropriate subject of the first contention. We can now appreciate the character of Damad Mahmoud Djelaleddin, the backbone and arm of the reaction; of some of the Ministers who had been feigning for months past to support Midhat’s views and were only waiting the moment to betray him; and can recognise the existence of a matured and carefully laid plot to upset reform by crushing the reformers—all these things are palpable and clear to us in the broad daylight of subsequent events; but they were scarcely surmised or imagined at the time we are now dealing with. The important citadel of the Palace was delivered, with all its defences, into the hands of the conspirators, and the Palace as a whole was organised for the express purposes of the reformers. This strong position being once firmly secured, the new Sultan could afford to show his hand with little disguise. He could not yet afford to treat with Midhat; it would have been clumsy to do so at once, for Midhat in opposition would have been a force with which he would have had to reckon, and, moreover, he and the Constitution were both necessary as a means of combating the conference that was assembling; but short of a rupture with his Grand Vizier, which was to be studiously avoided, he could afford to emphasize more and more his opposition to the policy of Midhat, so that when the moment arrived he could strike a decisive blow with effect, and with less fear of the consequences. Subjects of contention between them were not far to seek. The speech from the throne, written by Midhat, which was a _pronunciamento_ of the policy of a new reign inaugurated under such exceptional circumstances, and looked for with great eagerness, was revised by the Sultan beyond recognition; the essential sentences were omitted, others of quite incomprehensive character substituted in their place. The keynote of the original was “a new Regime, the Constitution, and Reform”; this was changed, and meaningless colourless phrases took its place. In order to give the reader an exact idea of the art displayed in this transformation, the speech actually delivered on this occasion is here appended, and the omitted sentences of the original, placed in parentheses: “HATTI HUMAYUN.