re less to be
dreaded than Stanley and a new corn law.'[227] In a debate of
extraordinary force and range in the summer of 1850, the two schools of
foreign policy found themselves face to face. Palmerston defended his
various proceedings with remarkable amplitude, power, moderation, and
sincerity. He had arrayed against him, besides Mr. Gladstone, the
greatest men in the House--Peel, Disraeli, Cobden, Graham, Bright--but
in his last sentence the undaunted minister struck a note that made
triumph in the division lobbies sure. For five hours a crowded house
hung upon his lips, and he then wound up with a fearless challenge of a
verdict on the question, 'Whether, as the Roman in days of old held
himself free from indignity when he could say _Civis Romanus sum_, so
also a British subject, in whatever land he may be, shall feel confident
that the watchful eye and the strong arm of England will protect him
against injustice and wrong?'

DON PACIFICO

The Roman citizen was in this instance a Mediterranean Jew who chanced
to be a British subject. His house at Athens had for some reason or
other been sacked by the mob; he presented a demand for compensation
absurdly fraudulent on the face of it. The Greek government refused to
pay. England despatched the fleet to collect this and some other petty
accounts outstanding. Russia and France proposed their good offices; the
mediation of France was accepted; then a number of Greek vessels were
peremptorily seized, and France in umbrage recalled her ambassador from
London. Well might Peel, in the last speech ever delivered by him in the
House of Commons, describe such a course of action as consistent neither
with the dignity nor the honour of England. The debate travelled far
beyond Don Pacifico, and it stands to this day as a grand classic
exposition in parliament of the contending views as to the temper and
the principles on which nations in our modern era should conduct their
dealings with one another.

It was in the Greek debate of 1850, which involved the censure or
acquittal of Lord Palmerston, that I first meddled in speech with
foreign affairs, to which I had heretofore paid the slightest
possible attention. Lord Palmerston's speech was a marvel for
physical strength, for memory, and for lucid and precise exposition
of his policy as a whole. A very curious incident on this occasion
evinced the extreme reluctance