on the high seas, with the capture of Washington, the burning of the Capitol, and the hurried flight of the President still a favorite theme of jest at the dinner-tables and in the clubs all over Europe, they had to confront the representatives of the haughtiest, and, in some respects, the strongest power on earth. If it was true that they had not succeeded in forcing the British formally to renounce the right of impressment and to accept just principles of blockade and of neutral rights, it was also true that the British had begun the negotiation with extravagant, humiliating, peremptory demands, presenting them in the most overbearing manner as sine qua non; that they had found themselves obliged to drop these one after another; that in the discussion about the fisheries and the navigation of the Mississippi, they had been dislodged from position after position, until finally they accepted a treaty which stood in strange contrast to their original attitude. The American commissioners had the satisfaction of hearing the Marquis of Wellesley declare in the House of Lords, that “in his opinion they had shown a most astonishing superiority over the British during the whole of the correspondence.”
However reluctantly Clay had signed the peace, his proud patriotic heart became reconciled to it as the general effects of all that had been done disclosed themselves. These effects were indeed very great, and he had reason to be satisfied with them. The question has been much discussed, whether
