special procurement by either of them, which would produce. the same effect upon their alliance; and that the effect of any such event, happening in either of the ways just suggested, would be of the most embarrassing nature, if it took place during actual united war, on their part, with the United States. If this is a just statement, nothing but English and French conduct and declarations could lead us to suppose that there was any serious intention, on the part of either nation, to bring on war with America; and nothing but the most important considerations on their part, could justify the risk of doing so. It is exactly that conduct and those declarations, which have obliged us to modify the opinions formerly expressed by us, and to which we have called attention, in a foot note, on a previous page. The modification we have been obliged to make, is very serious, and amounts to this, that both those nations are inclined, if not resolved, to press matters against us to the utmost limit their perversions of the law of nations wil lendure; and to risk war with us, in doing so, unless they become thoroughly convinced that the war they will bring on, will be far more serious than they now believe. It may be very difficult, independently of English and French conduct and declarations, to deduce from the state of the case we have delineated above, a probable conclusion on which we might rely, as to what either of those nations would feel safe in doing, with respect to us. In short, the case is like all others that end in hostilities between nations; a mixture of conflicting probabilities, each of which derives its importance from some other circumstances. And it is to be met, like all other cases of that sort, by the most careful endeavor to know everything, to provide for the worst, and to encounter whatever may happen with that wisdom and courage which make life the most triumphant, when it is the most distinctly valued lower than duty.

It is, probably, the universal opinion of English statesmen, that the supremacy of that nation at sea is the first condition of its security and greatness. To maintain that supremacy, no English sovereign, parliament, or party, has ever hesitated to perform any act of perfidy, or outrage, either in peace or in war, either upon enemy, ally, or dependent; and its maintenance is more clearly indispensable to the

greatness of England now, than at any former time, while the habitual immorality of the nation, on that subject, is virulent beyond all former precedent. The war of American independence, and the war of 1812-15, between the United States and Great Britain, wounded deeply the military pride of England; and the latter shocked, for the first time, her conviction of her invincibility at sea. In every part of England, the traveler sees monuments and hears names, that commemorate her great achievements in arms; and the popular enthusiasm never wearies in displaying them. But it is wonderful to behold the astonishment, almost the stupor, of an Englishman, when the American traveler demands of him, "Where are the palaces, the columns, the squares, the streets, the bridges, the arches, that commemorate the triumphs of your two American wars?" There is no such monument throughout the British Isles; there was never even a pretext for erecting one. The world speaks habitually of the desire of France to avenge Waterloo. If such feelings belong to nations, how much has Britain to avenge on America! And that such feelings are deeply cherished, they will the most readily admit who recall the burst of frantic rage all over England and Scotland, concerning the Mason and Slidell affair; who trace the whole course of British conduct during our present civil war; who examine the present state of British feeling, and the present tenor of British policy toward the United States; and who study the grounds, general and particular, of the policy of that powerful nation toward all others, that can possibly rival them in manufactures, in commerce, in wealth, in power-but above all, in maritime war. In all these immense interests, in which England has never tolerated a rival she was able to crush, or dared to attack, the destiny of the United States could not be accomplished, without her presenting herself continually before the whole world, in an attitude which England chooses to consider an attitude of insolent rivalry. The only idea that England has of the use of other nations, is that they should be safe and profitable customers to her. There are many grounds on which such a people might easily persuade themselves that the various conditions of such a policy would, in the aggregate, be far better fulfilled by the exhaustion and separation of the United

States, than by their continued union and growth; and there can be no doubt that, supposing the former fate to be the one desired for us by England, her conduct is well explained by such a desire. It is, no doubt, better for her, that we should be persuaded by her tender regard for peace and for us, to submit to our destiny, as expounded by her, than put her to the trouble, expense, and risk of forcing us to do so. As yet, therefore, diplomacy has not fully performed its office, and England will, probably, await the issue of the American campaign of 1863—and, possibly, of another, if that is not very decisive, before she does more than strengthen her present position. What American diplomacy may be able to accomplish, in the meantime, will depend upon the skill, the knowledge and the courage of the Government at Washington- the capacity of its diplomatic agents in foreign countries-and, not less than either, on the valor of our forces on land and water, and the competence of their commanders.

The foreign policy of France has always been an enigma to all but French diplomatists; and of all who directed it, or compounded it, from Philip the Second, of Spain, who, during his long reign, had many of the most conspicuous men in France constantly in his pay-not one has been less understood by his own generation, or apparently more absolutely a waiter on events, than the present Emperor. As far as he is understood, he appears to have accepted from the past-as far back at least as the Revolution of 1789-most of the settled ideas of his external policy, modified in some important respects by the actual state of the world on his coming to the throne. He accepted from the great men of that revolution the idea of making France a great maritime nation; and has pursued with great vigor the construction of ships, docks, and harbors, with special reference to the military marine of the empire. A great naval power is necessarily a great commercial one, or a great manufacturing one, or both. France was neither of the two-the idea of making her powerful at sea, originating in purely military views. So that the creation of manufactures, which had been destroyed by the persecutions of the Huguenots by Louis XIV, and the creation of commerce, which had been destroyed by the long wars originating out of the Revolution, and by the British supremacy at sea

during those wars, became the special concern of the government, side by side with the creation of the navy. Many considerations of position, population, climate, and production, fitted France to become a great naval, manufacturing, and commercial nation; and since the general pacification of Europe, by the treaty of Vienna, fifty years ago, her progress, in all these respects, has been prodigious. In the mean time, the wars that destroyed the commerce of France deprived her of her colonies. The present Emperor, by his recent treaty with England, made by him in the interest of French commerce and manufacture-made such concessions to England, in return for her coal and iron, that the industrial interests of both nations were added to the many other inducements to the good understanding between them, which is so dangerous to us, in our present circumstances. As a part of the same general maritime policy, the French Government, after the fall of the First Napoleon, accepted the policy of establishing foreign colonies, and began with conquering Algeria, in Africa. We believe there is no quarter of the globe in which Louis Napoleon has not occupied himself in adventures, sometimes openly, always manifestly, in search of new possessions. An Englishman could not be more grasping than he is. He has secured Savoy and Nice, and all Europe understands him to be seeking for Sicily, Sardinia, or anything he can get in Italy, and waiting on whatever event may enable him to seize the Rhinish Provinces of Prussia; while all the world knows what he did on the west coast of Africa, and in various and widely-scattered islands of the Pacific Ocean, and what he is now doing in Cochin China, on one side of the globe, and in Mexico on the other. England and the United States have both gold and cotton in their possessions. There is a wild story told by an American-which we will not repeat here in detail that the French Emperor has inexhaustible gold fields in Central Africa, from which he secretly draws fabulous wealth-which mines, says the American, he purchased the knowledge of from him, and then threw him into prison, and robbed him of his papers and his pay, to secure the secret he had bought. But passing this by-the Emperor has neither gold mine nor cotton growing country of his own, and seems resolved to have both. This, no doubt, explains in

part, his present business in Mexico; and explains, also, the French intrigue in Texas at the period of its annexation to the United States, and the late renewal of that intrigue. Touching the rebellion in America, the moral support lent to it by Louis Napoleon, has been, we suppose, more decided than that lent to it by the English Government, and his intervention more direct. It is beyond our ability to say what he may do next. Possibly he may have determined on war against the United States, for refusing to accept his intervention. Possibly he may not declare war at all; may even refuse to co-operate with England any further touching American affairs. We do not see that it is possible for us to allow him to carry out the plans attributed to him in Mexico. He, however, denies that he has any such plans as are attributed to him. We have no interest in weakening France relatively to England; and it seems to us very clear that France, unless she is positively sure of her naval superiority over England, has no interest in weakening us. It seems to us impossible for England to allow him to establish a French Protectorate over Mexico, and by consequence over the Spanish States down to and beyond the Isthmus of Panama, and so over the transit between the two great oceans. And yet it may be that this is the very price paid him by England, for his effectual co-operation in the destruction of the United States! There again is diplomacy. What can be done on this French side, to ward off the effects of a combination, so threatening to the United States? What can be done with other European States, or interests, to anticipate and prevent the shock of a combined attack from France and England, or to enable us to resist it, and redress it, when it falls? So far, at least, we may answer: let us look the future steadily in the face, and be ready for all that can be attempted against us.

The fundamental necessity of the security of the United States, so far as that depends on diplomacy, is that our relations with one or other of the great powers of Western Europe (England or France) should be closer than their relations with each other; or, this being unattainable, that our relations with one or more of the great powers of Eastern Europe (Russia, for example, or the great German powers)