London, July 1, 1864
The crisis has also passed here. The Ministry have announced that war would be inconvenient; that America is too formidable a power to have in the rear; that Germany is a bully, and Denmark a little fool; that the blame all belongs to France, and is owing to the hatred of Russia to England; that when the war is over and Denmark destroyed, Palmerston will call Parliament to know whether to send the channel fleet to the Baltic; that in short everything is in a muddle and no one knows how to get out of it except by frankly backing out and refusing to act at all. We have been immensely delighted with this utter confusion of England. There is about it so simple and undisguised confession of impotence that it almost excites pity, and would do so wholly if it were n’t that they are so ill-natured and currish in their expression of their disappointment. But it is not a little grateful to see the utter contempt felt for this country all over Europe now. The newspapers are filled with elegant extracts from French and German sources, all expressing in varied terms the opinion that the English are cowards. For my own part, the case does not seem to me to be so bad. The English are not cowards, but they have the misfortune to be damned fools, and to have the same class of men for their rulers. Once in this mire, they are cross but make the best of it, and all the contempt of Europe will be swallowed without shaking the firm conviction of the “true English gentleman,” as Kingsley calls him, that somehow or other he is right and all mankind is wrong. They will not even turn out the Ministry, it is said, and I can well believe it. But the European complication is not ended yet, and England will have to swallow more dirt before the end. What the end will be, I don’t know. But I look for a great movement towards liberalism some day. . . .
