eral election established Juarez as President, and order and progress once more consented to test the good resolutions of the Republic. The first days of the new era were tranquil, and all went well, in spite of the restlessness of generals of the liberals themselves, who could ill bear to forego their inherent tendency to disputing and wrangling. Above all, Santa Anna was still alive, and it was not to be hoped that he would hold himself aloof from a share in the prosperity of the nation.
He had retired to the Island of St. Thomas, and was growing old. Yet he watched from afar every turn of affairs in Mexico. No sooner had Maximilian landed at Vera Cruz, than he received a letter of congratulation from Santa Anna, expressing his entire approval of the French scheme, and his wish to further it. He even came to Vera Cruz to lend his services to the Emperor, but as no notice whatever was taken of these overtures, he became indignant and withdrew his countenance from the new government. He went to New York, and fixed his residence in Elizabethport, New Jersey, where he published manifestoes against the Empire and the French, and sought an alliance with Juarez. The President, like the Emperor, ignored all overtures from the Mexican king-maker, who instantly turned his superabundant energies to conspiring against the Republic, just as it was struggling to take up, once more, the threads of order.
On the 12th of July, 1867, he was seized on board a steamboat he had fitted out, charged with conspiring against government, and narrowly escaped
