The Southern States, therefore, are certain to increase their cultures, and to found their lasting prosperity by entering the path that leads to emancipation. But if they take the contrary road, they will hasten to their destruction, and with strange rapidity. Already, their violent acts of secession, and the monstrous plans which are necessarily attached to them, have had the first effect, easily foreseen, of dealing a most dangerous blow to American cotton. In a few weeks, they have done themselves more harm than the North, supposing its hostility as great as it is little, could have done them in twenty years. The meeting of Manchester has replied to the manifestoes of Charleston; England has said to herself, that, from men so determined to destroy themselves, she should count on nothing; and, having taken her resolution, she will proceed with it speedily; let the Southern States take care. English India can produce as much cotton as America; before long, if the Carolinians persist, they will have obtained the glorious result of despoiling their country of its chief resource; they will have killed the hen that laid the golden eggs. The matter is serious; I ask them to reflect on it. As England, under pain of falling into want and riots, cannot dispense with cotton for a single day, she will act energetically. Cotton grows marvellously in many countries; in the Antilles, where it has been produced already; in Algeria, where the plantations are about to be increased; on the whole continent of Africa, in fine, where it enters perhaps into the plans of God thus to make a breach in indigenous slavery by the faults committed by slaveholders in America.



CHAPTER X.

THE PRESENT CRISIS WILL REGENERATE THE INSTITUTIONS OF THE UNITED STATES.

It remains for me to inquire what influence the present crisis may exert on the institutions of the United States. It is at the expense of these institutions that the slave States, inferior in strength, in numbers, in progress of every kind, would reestablish their fatal and growing preponderance. Here again, therefore, my thesis subsists: the victories of the South had compromised every thing, the resistance of the North is about to save every thing; the election of Mr. Lincoln is a painful but salutary crisis, it is the first effort of a great people rising.

The party of slavery had introduced into the heart of American democracy, a permanent cause of debasement and corruption. In this respect, also, it was leading the Confederation to its death by the most direct and speedy way. I wish to show how it developed the worst sides of the democratic system. I hope to be impartial towards this system; although persuaded that the government of which England offers us the model is better suited to guaranty public liberties and to second true progress in every thing, I am not of those who place the shadow before the substance, and who condemn democracy without appeal. Are we destined some day to pass into its hands? Have we already begun to glide down the descent that leads to it? It is possible. In any case, it would be unjust to hate America on account of it, as is too often done. America has had no choice; in virtue of its origin and its history, it could be nothing else than a democracy. If it has the faults of democracy, the unamiable rudeness, the violent proceedings, the levelling passions, I am scarcely surprised at it. I ask myself rather if it has known how to find a basis of support against the temptations of such a system, if it has prevented the subjugation of individuals by the mass, the absorption of consciences by the State, the substitution of the sovereignty of the end for that of the people. These are the shoals of democracy; have they been shunned by the United States? Have they been able to avoid transforming it either into tyranny or socialism? We shall see that, if it has not succumbed to the temptation, this has not been the fault of the party of slavery. Thanks to it, the corruption of democratic institutions was rapidly advancing; a single adversary, constantly the same, has combated the progress of this work of destruction. We shall encounter again, upon the ground of political institutions, the fundamental antagonism of the Gospel and slavery.

I say first, that it is rarely that names are altogether fortuitous, and do not correspond to things. It has often given rise to astonishment that the party of slavery should have taken the name of the democratic party; notwithstanding, nothing was more natural. How could slavery have been defended if not by exaggerating democracy? It was necessary, in such a cause, to deny the notions of right, of truth, and of justice; it was necessary that the greater number should become right, truth, and justice.

Something more even was needed. The sovereignty of the end must yield, if necessary, before the sovereignty of numbers. A cause like that of slavery is only defended in the heart of a democratic nation, by teaching it contempt of scruples, and the stifling of the conscience. Every thing is allowable, every thing is good, provided that we succeed in our ends! This is the rule which it designs shall prevail in political contests. A single question, seeing nothing but itself, determined to spare nothing, offering itself to parties, whoever they may be, who seek a change, creating factitious majorities to effect the ends of base ambition, taking account neither of honor nor country, and attaining its end through every thing—this is enough to vitiate profoundly institutions and morals. The sovereignty of the idea, when it has laid hands on the sovereignty of the people, is in a position to go to great lengths, and to sink very low. Moral maxims and written laws are trodden under foot, a struggle without pity or remorse begins, a struggle of life and death. Social passions easily acquire a degree of perversity which political passions do not possess; the former are without conscience and without compassion; they will be satisfied, cost what it may; triumph is in their eyes an absolute, an inexorable necessity. Rather than not conquer, they will rend the country.

What the regular working of institutions becomes under such a pressure, every one can divine. For some years past, in proportion as the pretensions of the slavery party had increased, we had seen public morals become tainted in the United States. Indifference to means had made alarming progress, and had been felt even in the habits of commerce, and the relations of private life. The spirit of enterprise had come to be exalted even in its most dishonorable acts; respect for bankrupts seemed almost to be propagated. It is a fact, that men like Mr. Jefferson Davis, the present President of the revolted South, were not afraid to recommend the repudiation of debts. In the school of slavery, a disembarrassed and unscrupulous manner of acting had given its stamp to the general manner of the nation. Affairs were going on rapidly, the liberties of America were on the high road to ruin; it was time that the reaction of liberal and honorable sentiments should make itself felt. The election of 1860 marked the stopping-place.

I wonder that they could have stopped; such a fact demands an explanation, for ordinarily the declivities of democratic decline are never remounted. The natural tendency there being to deny the right of the minority, (the most precious of all,) to sink the man entire in the ballot, to lay violent hands on the private portion of his life, and to force even his conscience into the social contract, it follows that governments arise in which the question of limitation becomes effaced by the question of origin. In the face of such a power, nothing is left standing; no more rights, no more principles, no more of those solid and resisting blocks which serve to stem the popular current; the province of the State becomes indefinite.

And how much more irresistible and more perverse is this tendency, when a profound cause of corruption, such as slavery, adds its action to the strength of such democracies! It is no longer, in such cases, the sovereign majority alone before which the right may be forced to bow, it is a party determined to attain its ends, which penetrates with violence into that domain of conscience where human laws should not enter; a party which sets about regulating sometimes the belief, sometimes the thought, sometimes the speech. Such has been the influence exercised in the United States by the institution of slavery; it has forbidden authors to write, clergymen to preach, and almost individuals to think any thing that displeased it; it has invented the right of secession, in order to have at its disposal a formidable means of intimidation, and to place a threat behind each of its demands. To yield, to descend, to descend still further, to obey a continued impulse of democratic debasement, such is the course to which it has impelled the whole Confederation.

Notwithstanding, the United States have resisted. I shall tell why; I shall show by virtue of what marvellous force Americans have escaped the absolute levelling which seemed destined to be produced by a complicated democracy of slavery. But I wish first to finish depicting the natural effects of such a system.

Suppose for a moment a nation (and such are not wanting) modelled after the antique. The Pagan principle reigns there supremely, the State absorbs every thing, souls are banded together and governed; a centralized power, a visible Providence, is substituted for individual action; creeds have essentially the hereditary and national form; each one believes what the rest believe, each one does what the rest do, each one holds the opinions which are found in the ancient traditions of the country; truth is no longer a personal conviction, acquired at the price of earnest struggles, and worth much because it has cost much; it descends to the rank of customs to which it is fitting to conform, it has its marked place among social obligations, and forms part of the duties of the citizen.

Let democracy come to establish its empire in the heart of such a nation, and you will see with what rapidity every thing will disappear that bears the slightest resemblance to individual independence. The more effectual the levelling, the greater will seem the community; and the smaller the individual, the more, too, in face of the privileges of the whole, will the very idea of personal rights become effaced. The majority is held infallible, and the minority appears criminal if it takes the liberty of refusing to subject its thoughts (yes, its very thoughts) to that of the majority. In this innumerable host of like beings, no one is authorized to possess any thing in private; of all aristocracies, that of the conscience appears then least endurable. Men believe in the majority, in the mass, in the nation. We have no idea of the intellectual despotism of a democracy which fails to encounter on its road the obstacle of personal convictions; it disposes of the human soul, it creates an unlimited confidence in the judgment of public opinion, it heads a school of popular courtiers, and teaches each one the art of setting his watch by the clock of the market-place.

Intelligence, conscience, convictions—all bend, and what does not bend is broken. This happens, above all, we repeat without wearying, when a detestable cause like that of slavery perverts the working of democratic institutions. Then, the tyranny of the majorities has no bounds; the majorities themselves are formed by means of ignoble contracts and monstrous alliances. In the midst of lower passions let loose, through banded parties, imperative mandates, and factitious organizations, which no longer leave the smallest outlet for the flight of the least independent wish, the perversities of corrupt and misled democracy have full scope.

In writing these pages, have I described American democracy? Yes and no. Yes, for such are really the temptations to which America has been exposed, such are really the vices with which it might have often been reproached; no, for a principle of resistance has always revealed itself in the darkest moments, an irrepressible something has always remained. In vain the heavy roller has passed and repassed over the ground; it has always encountered blocks of granite that would not be broken. This is the point which I had at heart to signal out in closing this study, knowing that it forms its most essential part, and that whoever has not given it his attention cannot comprehend the United States. The extraordinary fact, much more extraordinary than is supposed, that, under the system of democracy ruled by slavery, men have been able to pause and retrace their steps, is only explained by the peculiar form which religious belief has put on in the United States. We have not before our eyes a Latin nation, a nation clad in the vestments of Greece or Rome, a nation having, according to the ancient mode, its religion and its usages universally but indolently admitted. This republic of the New World is by no means one of those slave republics of ancient times, in which the citizens took delight in conversing on public affairs, but in which no one had the bad taste to question his conscience with respect to the public creeds. The pagan life, with its obligatory worship, its common education, its suppression of the family and the individual in behalf of the State, its existence transported to the Forum; the pagan life, in which the citizen absorbs the individual, and in which the calm and serene uniformity of indifferent centuries ends, by giving to each one the national physiognomy, bears no resemblance to the moral and social life of the United States.

Among them, not the smallest trace is found of that system which seeks to make nations, and which forgets to make men. They were born, as we may say, of a protestation of the human conscience. A noble origin, which explains many things! It is, in fact, the revindication of religious independence against religious uniformity, and the established church which created it two hundred years ago. Of course, I have not to examine here the intrinsic value of the Puritan doctrines. I content myself with affirming that they landed in America in the name of liberty, that they were destined to establish liberty there, that they were destined to build there the true rampart against democratic tyranny.

From the first day, the State was deprived of the direction of the intellectual and moral man. Despite that inevitable mixture of inconsistencies and hesitation which marks our first efforts in all things, the Puritan colonies, destined one day to become the United States, set out on the road which led to liberty of belief, of thoughts, of speech, of the press, of assemblage, of instruction. The most considerable, most important rights were abstracted at the outset from the domain of democratic deliberations; insuperable bounds were set to the sovereignty of numbers; the right of minorities, that of the individual, the right of remaining alone against all others, the right of being of one's own opinion, was reserved. Furthermore, they did not delay to break the bonds between the Church and the State entirely, in such a manner as to deprive the official superintendence of belief of its last pretext. Self-government was founded, that is, the most formal negation of subjugation by the democracy. While the latter tends to the maximum of government, the American Government tends to the minimum of government, that form par excellence of liberalism. And it does not tend thither, as in the Middle Ages, by anarchy, by the absence of national ties, and moreover by despoiling the individual of his rights of conscience and thought, confiscated then more entirely for the benefit of a sovereign church than they have been since for the benefit of the State; no, American individualism proceeds differently: if it restrains with salutary vigor the province of governments, it is to enlarge that of the human soul.

This is a great conquest; the whole future of the modern world is contained in it. Destined as we are to submit, in a measure at least, to the action of democracy, the question whether we shall he slaves or free men is resolved in this: shall we, after the example of America, have our reserved tribunal, our closed domain in which the public power shall be permitted to see nothing? Shall there be things among us (the most important of all) which shall not be put to the vote? Shall our democracy have its boundaries, and beyond these boundaries shall a vast country be seen to extend—that of free belief, of free worship, of free thought, of the free home?

It is because American democracy has boundaries that its worst excesses have finally found chastisement. It is not installed alone in the United States; opposite it, another power which knows no fear, is occupied with resisting it. The entire history of America is explained by this double fact: the falling and the rising again, the servitudes and the liberties, the too long triumph of the slavery party, and the recent victory of Mr. Lincoln, the deadly peril so lately incurred, and the noble future that opens to-day.

Individualism is not isolation, individual convictions are not sectarian convictions; they found on the contrary the most powerful of the unities, moral unity. The thing which most actively dissolves societies while seeming to unite them, is the uniformity of national dogmas which, accepted as an inheritance, remain without action over the heart. What are, in fact, the great bonds on earth, if not duty and affection? Now, nothing but personal convictions, earnestly acquired by the sweat of our brow, can destroy selfishness in us. Without this strong cement of convictions at once individual and common, you will build nothing that will endure. The United States have in their heart strong convictions, which are also common convictions; through external diversities, we have seen that fundamental conformity is real, and all earnest appeal to Christian truths agitates this country, so divided in appearance, from one end to the other. National life is here a reality. I do not think that Socialism, which excuses us from believing ourselves, which places our soul under responsible administration, and preserves us, it is said, from the baleful disruptions engendered by individualism, succeeds as well in destroying selfishness and in diffusing ideas of devotion and duty. When democracy becomes socialistic, (and it never has been able to become so in the United States,) it grinds down and reduces souls to such a degree that nothing is left but a fine dust, a sort of intellectual and moral powder which, it is true, is an obstacle to nothing, but which creates nothing either. To build an edifice, stones are needed, sand will not suffice.

Christian individualism makes the stones, and the democratic party has just perceived it. In a country where independence of soul has acclimated independence in all its forms, men may indeed bow the head sometimes to democracy allied to slavery; but this debasement has a limit, and the time is coming when they will raise their heads. Strong beliefs are a strong rampart, the slaves of truth are free men, and true independence begins in the heart. To have convictions in order to have characters, to have believers in order to have citizens, to have energetic minds in order to have powerful nations, to have resistance in order to have support—such is the programme of individualism. Show me a country where men are proud enough not to bow before the majority, where they do not think themselves lost when they depart from, the beaten track, and jostle of received opinions; and I will admit that there it will be possible to practise democracy without falling into servitude.

There is but one country of individual belief, that could attempt the alliance, hitherto deemed impossible, of democracy and liberty. The theory in accordance with which the public liberties of England have the aristocracy for their essential basis, is admitted as an axiom; without contemning this element of social organization, it is advisable to mine deeper than this to discover the true foundation of liberty. Individual belief—this is the foundation. The more we reflect, the more we discover that the essential thing is not the forms of government, or even the relations of the different classes, but the moral state of the community. Are men there? Have souls become masters of themselves? Are characters formed? Has the force of resistance appeared? Whoever shall have replied to these questions will have decided, knowingly or unknowingly, whether liberty be possible.

I do not know that any people should be excluded from liberty; only all are bound to pursue it by the path that leads to it, by earnestness of convictions, by internal affranchisement, which signifies by the Gospel. We may seek in vain, we shall find no means comparable to this (I speak in the political point of view) when the question is to make citizens. To place one's self under the absolute authority of God and his word, is to acquire in the face of mere parties, majorities, general opinions, an independence that nothing can supply. The independence within is always translated without; he who is independent of men, in the domain of beliefs and of thoughts, will be equally so in the domain of public affairs. Thus democracy itself will not degenerate into socialism. No one has been able to point out the slightest symptom of socialism in the United States. Notwithstanding, democracy is fully complete there, and the election of Mr. Lincoln, once drover, once flatboatman, once rail-splitter, once clerk—of Mr. Lincoln, the son of his works, who has succeeded by his own powers in becoming a well-informed man and an orator, this election proves certainly that American equality is not menaced by the success of the republican party. It menaces only the evil democracy, which, under the guidance of the slavery party, sought to force the nation into the path of socialism. But it will not succeed in this; the question has just been decided. Between these two systems, which are to contend for contemporaneous communities, between socialism and individualism, the choice of the United States is made.

Before witnessing the affranchisement of the slaves, we shall, therefore, witness the affranchisement of American politics. They have endured a shameful yoke, and received sad lessons. Since Jefferson, the born enemy of true liberalism, founded the Democratic party, the United States had continued to descend the declivity of radicalism; a work of relentless levelling was thenceforth pursued, and the domain of the conscience became gradually invaded. The democratic party found its fulcrum in the South. The slave States forced the enclosure of the private tribunal, and confiscated in behalf of the State the inviolable rights of the individual: neither thought, the press, nor the pulpit, were free among them; the fundamental maxims of Puritan tradition were sacrificed by them one after the other. They did more: thanks to them, men were beginning to learn in the free States how to set to work to pervert their own consciences, and to substitute for it respect for sovereign majorities. Every day, crying iniquities were covered by the pretext: "If we were just, we should compromise the national unity, or we should risk losing the votes secured to our party." Violence, menace, brutality, and corruption, were boldly introduced into political struggles. Men became habituated to evil: the most odious crimes, the Southern laws reducing to legal slavery every free negro who should not quit the soil of the States, hardly raised a murmur of disapprobation; the United States seemed on the point of losing that faculty which nothing can survive—the faculty of indignation.

Behold in what school the democratic party had placed the American people—that noble people which, despite the grave faults with which it may be reproached, represents in the main many of the lofty principles which are allied to the future of modern communities. The reign of the Democratic party would form the subject of an inglorious history; in it we should see figure the glorification of servitude, piracy applied to international right, and, in conclusion, those facts of corruption and waste which served to crown its last Presidency. The most consistent champions of the doctrines and practices of the democratic party, are those men who have just declared that votes are valid only on condition of giving the majority to slavery, and that a regular election is a sufficient cause for separation.



CONCLUSION.

I have not sought to recount events, but to attempt a study, which I believe to be useful to us, and which may, also, not be useless to the United States. We owe them the support of our sympathy. It is more important than people imagine to let them hear words of encouragement from us at this decisive moment. Let us not hasten to declare that the Union is destroyed, that, henceforth and forever, there will be two Confederacies existing on the same footing, that the United States of slavery will have their great role to perform here below, like the United States of liberty. This would be, in any case, immense exaggeration. Let us not forget that the Union has often before seemed lost, that the Confederation has often before seemed ready to perish. Are the men who are terrified at the present perils, ignorant of those which surrounded the cradle of the United States: mutinous troops, contending ambitions, threats of separation, anarchy, ruin? This America, then so weak, is the same that has since become so strong, in spite of its own faults. At the moment when it rebelled against England, it had neither arts and manufactures, nor commerce, nor marine; and its two or three millions of inhabitants were far from agreeing among themselves. Yet such is the vigor of its genius, such is its carelessness of every kind of danger, such is the impetuosity with which it affronts and surmounts obstacles, such is the power of its national motto; "Go ahead!" that through internal struggles, crises, and momentary exhaustion, it has attained the stature of a great people. Count the steamboats on its rivers, estimate the tonnage of its vessels, compute the amount of its internal trade, measure the length of its canals and railroads, and you will still have but a faint idea of what it is capable of undertaking and accomplishing.

We must remember these things, and not imitate those enemies of America who sometimes feign to put on mourning for her, sometimes jest at her distress, and find in the present situation of the disunited States (for thus they style them) an agreeable subject for pleasantry, forgetting that this disunion has a serious cause, which is certainly of importance enough to make itself understood; forgetting, too, that generous struggles for humanity and the country are worthy to obtain our fullest respect. And let us beware how we say that this crisis does not concern us—that we can do nothing in it. The selfish isolation of nations is henceforth impossible. The question to be decided here involves our own affairs, not only because a portion of our fortune is pledged to the United States, but, above all, because our principles and our liberties are concerned. The victories of justice, wherever they may be won, are the victories of the human race.

We can aid this one in some measure. America, which affects sometimes to declare itself indifferent to our opinions, gathers them up, however, with jealous care. I have seen respectable Americans blush at encountering that instinctive blame which, among us, is addressed to the progress of slavery; they suffered at seeing their country thus fallen from the esteem which it formerly enjoyed. Proud nations like America always avenge themselves by noble impulses for the reprobation which they are conscious of having deserved. The moral intervention of Europe is not, therefore, superfluous; it is the less so, in that the South insults us by counting on us. The ringleaders of Charleston and New Orleans affect to say that England is ready to open her arms to them, and that France promises a sympathizing reception to her envoys! These envoys themselves have been selected with care, honorable, having friends among us,—capable, in a word, of presenting the cause of slavery in an almost seductive light. It is important, therefore, that we should not keep silence.

Let governments be reserved; let them avoid every thing that would resemble direct action in the internal affairs of the United States, let them have recourse to the commonplaces of speech employed by diplomacy to escape pledging their policy—this is well. But to imagine that these commonplaces promise alliance or protection, is to be credulous indeed! A rebellion under cover of the flag of slavery, be sure, will find it difficult to make partisans among us French, whatever may be our indolent indifference in other respects in this matter, an indifference so great that at the present time the American question does not exist to the most of us. Moreover, we shall shake off this inertia; and, as to the English, they will not suffer their brightest title to glory in modern times to be tarnished by any latent complicity with the Gulf States. The brutal doctrines of interest, so often professed publicly in Parliament by Mr. Bright, may indeed find organs; and Great Britain will be counselled to remember cotton and forget justice. The measure already taken by her at Washington, and which appears to have been supported by France, a measure designed to declare that the blockade of the Southern ports must be effectual to be recognized, is perhaps a concession wrested from her by this detestable school of selfishness. Happily, there is another school face to face with this; the Christian sentiment, the sentiment of abolition, will arise and enforce obedience. Never was a more important work in store for it. To unveil every suspicious act of the British Government, to keep public opinion aroused, to maintain, in fine, that noble moral agitation which makes the success of good causes and the safety of free nations, such is the mission proffered in England to the defenders of humanity and the Gospel. If they could forget it, the populace of Mobile or Savannah pursuing English consuls, would remind them to what principle the name of Great Britain is inevitably pledged, for the sake of its honor. France and England, I am confident, will act in unison, here as elsewhere; their alliance which comprises within itself the germs of all true progress, will be found as useful and as fruitful in the New World as it has proved in the Old.

This is of such importance that I beg leave to dwell on it; evidently our influence has not yet been exercised as it should have been, and if Mr. Lincoln now bends somewhat before counsels devoid of energy and dignity, it proceeds in part from our reserve, our silence, our apparent neutrality—who knows? even from the discouraging language that has been sometimes held in our name. The publication of the unlucky Morrill Tariff, (signed, we may say in passing, by Mr. Buchanan, and the revocation of which, I am convinced, will be signed some day by Mr. Lincoln,) has given the signal for political demonstrations, all of which are very far from being to the credit of Europe. Our Moniteur has published articles to be regretted, but it is above all among the English that the cotton party has had full scope.

Let England beware! it were better for her to lose Malta, Corfu, and Gibraltar, than the glorious position which her struggle against slavery and the slave trade has secured her in the esteem of nations. Even in our age of armed frigates and rifled cannon, the chief of all powers, thank God! is moral power. Woe to the nation that disregards it, and consents to immolate its principles to its interests! From the beginning of the present conflict, the enemies of England, and they are numerous, have predicted that the cause of cotton will weigh heavier in her scales than the cause of justice and liberty. They are preparing to judge her by her conduct in the American crisis. Once more, let her beware!

And under what pretexts do we chaffer with the government of Mr. Lincoln for those energetic, persevering sympathies on which it has a right to count? Let us examine.

We hear, in the first place, of the vigor of the South and the weakness of the North. It is not the first time that a bad cause has shown itself more ardent, more daring, less preoccupied by consequences, than a good one. Good causes have scruples, and every scruple is an obstacle.

I am assuredly as sorry as any one to see Mr. Lincoln struck with a sort of paralysis. To my mind, the dangers of inactivity are considerable; I believe that it discourages friends and encourages adversaries; I believe that it sanctions more or less the baleful and erroneous principle of secession, a principle more contagious than any other; I believe, in fine, that, by postponing civil war, it probably risks increasing its gravity. Nevertheless, shall we not take into account the exceptional difficulties with which Mr. Lincoln is surrounded?

The preceding Administration took care to leave no resource in his hands: he found the forts either surrendered or indefensible, the arsenals invaded, the army scattered, the navy despatched to distant parts of the seas. Is it strange that he should have yielded in some degree to the entreaties of so many able men, all urging in the same direction? If to-morrow he should yield entirely, if he should recognize the Southern Confederacy, would it be great cause for astonishment?

Let us not forget, moreover, that the border States are at hand, forming a rampart, as it were, to protect the extreme South. Several of these States, I am convinced, incline sincerely towards the North, and will remain united with it; but are there not others, Virginia, for instance, which perhaps only refrain from seceding for the better protection of those that have done so, and whose present role consists in preventing all repression, while its future role will be to trammel all progress by the continued threat of joining the Southern Confederacy?

These are serious obstacles; yet I have not pointed out the most serious of all—the intense and sincere repugnance which many Northern people, though declared adversaries of slavery, experience towards measures that are calculated to provoke slave insurrections, and endanger the safety of the planters. I must acknowledge that the patience of the strong seems here rather more laudable than the so much vaunted audacity of the weak, who count on this patience, and know that they can be arrogant without much risk.

The second pretext that is audaciously brought forward to solicit our good will towards the South, is that it has just ameliorated the Federal institutions. Let us ask in what consists this pretended amelioration? The South has not feared to write in set terms, in its fundamental law, what none before it ever dared write, the constitutional guarantee of slavery. Slavery, in accordance with the Constitution of the South, can neither be suppressed nor assailed. Slavery will be the holy ark to be regarded with respect from afar off, the corner-stone which all are forbidden to touch. By the side of this, the South ostentatiously proclaims freedom of speech, of the press, of discussion in every form! Men shall be free to speak, but on condition of not touching, nearly or remotely, on any subject connected with slavery, (and every thing is connected with it in the South.) They shall be free to print, but on condition of giving no writing whatever to the public from which may be inferred the unity of mankind, the sanctity of family ties, the great principles, in fact, which the "patriarchal system" throws overboard. They shall be free to discuss, but on condition of not disturbing this institution, impatient by nature, and still more so in future, now that it feels itself hemmed in and threatened on all sides. It will be by itself alone the whole Constitution of the South; this one article will devour the rest; in default of legislatures and courts, the Southern populace know how to give force to the guarantee of slavery, and to restrain freedom of speech, of the press, and of discussion.

It is true that adroit patrons of the South Carolinian rebellion have a third argument at their service which is no less specious. "All is over," they exclaim, "there is nobody now to sustain, there are no sympathies now to testify; in four days, peace will be made, the new Confederation will be recognized by Lincoln in person, a commercial treaty will even ally it to the United States: the affair is ended."

The affair is scarcely begun, we answer; one must be blind not to see it. What is ended, is only the first skirmish. As to the war, it will be as long, believe me, as the life of the two principles which are struggling in America. Let Mr. Lincoln assure himself, and let the European adversaries of slavery remember as well, that it will be necessary to combat and to persevere. Never was a more obstinate and more colossal strife commenced on earth. Many of the border States will not be long in raising pretensions to which they will join threats of new secessions; they will again bring up the question of the Territories, and will propose compromises. Who knows? they will aspire perhaps to establish, in the interests of the extreme South, the extradition of slaves escaped from the rival Confederacy. Who knows again? they will perhaps attempt to restore their domestic slave trade with Charleston and New Orleans.

This is not all. The time will come when the extreme South, incapable of enduring the life that it has just created for itself, will demand to return to the bosom of the Union. It will then insist on dictating its conditions; it will propose the election of a general convention charged with reconstructing the Constitution of the United States; it will appeal to the selfishness of some, and to the ambition or even the patriotism of others, presenting to their sight the re-establishment of the common greatness which separation had compromised. What a motive to veil principles for a moment! what a temptation to return to the fatal path so lately forsaken!

I know very well that it will be henceforth impossible to return to it completely; nevertheless, the vigilance of Mr. Lincoln will not cease to be necessary, and what will be no less necessary, is the moral support which we are bound to lend him in the hour of success and in the hour of discouragement, in good and in bad reputation. Where do we find a more glorious cause than this? despite the impure alloy which is mingled with it, of course, as with all glorious causes, is it not fitted to stir up generous hearts? Already, thanks to the defeat of the democratic party, the United States that we once knew, those of the last ten years, those that the South governed with its wand, those whose institutions were corrupted and debased by slavery, those who numbered in the North as in the South so many fortunes based openly on the slave traffic, those who had seen among their Presidents a slave merchant, carrying on his speculations in public view—these United States have just ended their career, they have entered the domain of history, their disappearance has been verified by the retreat of the extreme South.

The American people are now striving to rise. Enterprise as difficult as glorious! Whatever may be the issue of the first conflict, it will be only the first conflict. There will be many others; the uprising of a great people is not the work of a day. Sometimes at peace, sometimes perhaps at war with the States that take in hand the cause of slavery, the American Confederation will witness the development, one after another, of the consequences necessarily produced by that decisive event, the election of Mr. Lincoln. Having broken with the past, it will be forced to enter further and further into the path of the future. We have already seen that, whichever hypothesis is realized of those which we are permitted to foresee, the cause of slavery is destined to experience defeat after defeat. It has ceased to grow, it is about to decrease, to decrease by separation, to decrease by union, to decrease by peace, to decrease by war. As surely as there will be obstacles without number to surmount in order to accomplish this work, so surely will this work be accomplished. Certainly, it deserves to be loved and sustained, without discouragement and hesitation. Europe will comprehend it.

On seeing her attitude, the angry champions of slavery will doubtless perceive that they are mistaken, and that it is time to make new calculations. As for the brave men of the North, they will he glad to learn what is thought of them on this side of the Atlantic. This may aid, and greatly, in the more or less distant re-establishment of the Union. If the Gulf States knew what insurmountable disgust will be aroused here by their Confederacy, founded to secure the duration and prosperity of slavery; if the border States knew what sympathies they will gain by siding with liberty, and what maledictions they will incur by declaring themselves for slavery; if the Northern States knew what support is secured to them by that power, the chief of all others, public opinion, we are justified in believing that the present crisis would come to a prompt and peaceful solution.

It is a fixed fact that the nineteenth century will see the end of slavery in all its forms; and woe to him who opposes the march of such a progress! Who is not deeply impressed by the thought that, on the 4th of March, at the very hour when Mr. Lincoln, in taking possession of the Presidency at Washington, signified to the attentive world the will of a great republic, determined to arrest the conquests of slavery, the generous head of a great empire signified to his ministers his immutable resolve to prepare for the emancipation of the serfs. In such coincidences, who does not recognize the finger of God. I am, therefore, tranquil: Russian opposition has failed, American opposition will fail. There will be American opposition; there will be, there is such already, in the very surroundings and cabinet of the President. We have just seen how it seeks to enervate his resolutions, to pledge him irrevocably to that wavering policy, more to be dreaded for him than the projects of assassination about which, right or wrong, so much noise has been made. Nevertheless, this evil has its bounds marked out in advance; he whom God guards is well guarded. If you wish to know what the Presidency of Mr. Lincoln will be in the end, see in what manner and under what auspices it was inaugurated; listen to the words that fell from the lips of the new President as he quitted his native town: "The task that devolves upon me is greater, perhaps, than that which has devolved on any other man since the days of Washington. I hope that you, my friends, will all pray that I may receive that assistance from on high, without which I cannot succeed, but with which success is certain." "Yes, yes; we will pray for you!" Such was the response of the inhabitants of Springfield, who, weeping, and with uncovered heads, witnessed the departure of their fellow-citizen. What a debut for a government! Have there been many inaugurations here below of such thrilling solemnity? Do uniforms and plumes, the roar of cannon, triumphal arches, and vague appeals to Providence, equal these simple words: "Pray for me!" "We will pray for you"! Ah! courage, Lincoln! the friends of freedom and of America are with you. Courage! you hold in your hands the destinies of a great principle and a great people. Courage! You have to resist your friends and to face your foes; it is the fate of all who seek to do good on earth. Courage! You will have need of it to-morrow, in a year, to the end; you will have need of it in peace and in war; you will have need of it to avert the compromise in peace or war of that noble progress which it is your charge to accomplish, more than in conquests of slavery. Courage! your role, as you have said, may be inferior to no other, not even to that of Washington: to raise up the United States will not be less glorious than to have founded them.

It is doubtless from a distance that we express these sympathies, but there are things which are judged better from a distance than near at hand. Europe is well situated to estimate the present crisis. The opinion of France, especially, should have some weight with the United States: independently of our old alliances, we are, of all nations, perhaps, the most interested in the success of the Confederation. They are friendly voices which, here and elsewhere, in our reviews and our journals, bear to it the cordial expression of our wishes. In wishing the final triumph of the North, we wish the salvation of the North and South, their common greatness and their lasting prosperity.

But the South disquiets us; we cannot disguise it. It is in bad hands. A sort of terror reigns there; important but moderate men are forced to bow the head, or to feel that it will be necessary to do so ere long. The planters must see already that, in seeking to put away what they call the yoke of the North, they are preparing for themselves other masters. Business is suspended, money for cultivation is lacking, credit is everywhere refused, the ensuing harvest is mortgaged, the loans which it is sought to issue find no takers outside the extreme South. The resources of revolution remain, and they will be used unsparingly.

What a position! Under the Constitution voted scarcely a month ago, we already hear the deep rumbling of the quarrels of classes, of the planters and the poor whites, of the aristocracy and the numerical majority, of the prudent adversaries of the slave trade and its headstrong partisans, of the statesmen who are tolerated for appearances and those who count on replacing them, of the present and the future.

People will some day see clearly, even in Charleston. The separation which was to establish the prosperity of the South by permitting it at last to live to its liking, to obey its genius, and to serve its interests, has hitherto resulted in little, save the singing of the Marseillaise, (the Marseillaise of Slavery!) and the striking down of the Federal colors before the flag of the pelican and the rattlesnake. A great many blue ribbons and Colt's revolvers are sold; and busts of Calhoun, the first theorist of secession, axe carried about ostentatiously. Next, to present a good mien to the eyes of Europe, a Constitution is voted in haste, a government is formed, an army is decreed; but the revolutionary basis is remaining, and we perceive but too quickly how great disorder prevails in minds and things.

At the present hour, the democracy of the South is about to degenerate into demagogism and dictatorship. But the North presents quite a different spectacle. Mark what is passing there; pierce beneath appearances, beneath inevitable mistakes, beneath the no less inevitable wavering of a debut so well prepared for by the preceding Administration, and you will find the firm resolution of a people uprising. Who speaks of the end of the United States? This end seemed approaching but lately, in the hour of prosperity; then, honor was compromised, esteem for the country was lowered, institutions were becoming corrupted apace; the moment seemed approaching when the Confederation, tainted by slavery, could not but perish with it. Now, every thing has changed aspect; the friends of America should take confidence, for its greatness is inseparable, thank God! from the cause of justice.

Justice cannot do wrong; I like to recall this maxim when I consider the present state of America. In escaping a sudden and shameful death, it will not, assuredly, escape struggles and difficulties; in returning to life, it will encounter battle and danger longer than it imagines; life is composed of this. To live is a laborious vocation, and nations who wish to keep their place here below, who wish to act and not to sleep, must know that they will have their share of suffering. Perhaps it enters into the plans of God that the United States should endure for a time some diminution of their greatness; let them be sure, notwithstanding, that their flag will be neither less respected nor less glorious, if it shall thus lose a few of its stars. Those which it loses will reappear on it some day, and how many others, meanwhile, will come to increase the Federal Constellation! With what acclamations will Europe salute the future progress of the United States, as soon as their progress shall have ceased to be that of slavery!

At present, the point in question is to liquidate a bad debt. The moment of liquidation is always painful; but when it is over, credit revives. So will it be in America. She has often boasted of the energetic sang-froid of her merchants; when ruined, they neither lament, nor are discouraged; there is a fortune to make again. In the same manner, putting things at the worst, supposing the present crisis to be comparable to ruin; there is a nation to make again, it will be re-made. "Gentlemen," said Mr. Seward lately, in concluding his great speech in Congress, "if this Union were shattered to-day by the spirit of faction, it would reconstruct itself to-morrow with the former majestic proportions."



A WORD OF PEACE

ON THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN ENGLAND AND THE UNITED STATES.

BY COUNT AGENOR DE GASPARIN.



A WORD OF PEACE.

* * * * *

Between the meetings of Liverpool and the ovations of New York, is there not room for a word of peace? A word of peace, I know well, must be a word of impartiality. The speaker must resign himself to be treated as an American in England, and as an Englishman in America; but what does this matter if truth make its way, and if an obstacle the more be raised in the way of this horrible war, this war contrary to nature, which would begin by ensuring the triumph of the champions of negro slavery, and would end by exposing the cause of free institutions to more than one perilous hazard?

There is one fundamental rule to follow in questions arising out of the right of search: to distrust first impressions. These, are always very vivid. An insult to the honor of the flag is always in question. Patriotic sensibilities, which I comprehend and which I respect, are always brought into play. It is impossible that these officers, these stranger sailors, who have given commands and exacted obedience, who have stopped the ship on its way, who have set foot on the sacred deck where floats the banner of the country, who have interrogated, who have searched, who have had recourse, perhaps, to graver measures—it is impossible that they should not have called forth many sentiments of anger and indignation. Even when practised with the most rigid formalities, even when confined within the limits of the strictest legality, the right of search cannot fail to produce a feeling of annoyance. The recent search of the Jules et Marie, the yards of which were carried away and the barricadings driven in, seems to me the faithful type of all visits of search on the high seas—every one of them brings damages in its train.

Notwithstanding, the right of search is disputed by no one, and will be exercised in time of war, until the moment when the American proposition, reproduced again the other day by General Scott, shall be welcomed by our Old World.

I have just written the name of General Scott, and I did so with a feeling of pleasure. Whoever has read his letter, must have said to himself with me, that there exists in the United States a class of intelligent and moderate men—patriots, who have given proof of their capacity and are capable of examining dispassionately the demands of the English Government. These men know how much the maintenance of friendly relations with England is worth in the present position of America. Whatever opinion they may form on the question of right growing out of the action of Captain Wilkes, they comprehend that no consideration can weigh in the balance against the danger of bringing about the recognition of the Southern Confederacy, the breaking of the blockade, war, in short, with a powerful and friendly nation, a sister nation, sprung from the same blood, speaking the same language, devoted to the same mission of civilization and liberty. No honorable sacrifice would cost them too dear in order to avert this fearful catastrophe.

Would that they could see with their own eyes, were it but for a moment, what is passing to-day in Europe! Their enemies triumph, and their friends are struck with consternation. We, who have always loved America, and who love her better now that she is suffering for a noble cause; we who have defended her, we who have never ceased to believe in her final success, despite mistakes and repulses, feel all our hopes threatened at once; the ground seems sinking beneath our feet. No, we cannot suppose that America, in recklessness of heart, will destroy with her own hands the fruit of so many efforts and sacrifices. This would not be patriotism, it would not be dignity, it would be an act of madness and suicide.

If the Trent has violated the rules of neutrality, it remains none the less certain that other rules have been violated by the San Jacinto. The duty of naval officers is limited to visiting ships and stopping them, if need be, to carry them before a prize court. They cannot exercise the office of judge. In substituting the arrest of individuals for the seizure of ships, and a military act for a judicial decree, Captain Wilkes has given ground for the well-founded protests of England, at the same time that he has left the way open, thank God! for measures of reparation to be adopted by the United States.

I know very well that there would have been no less indignation at Liverpool and London in case that the Trent had been stopped on her way and carried before American courts. Perhaps, indeed, the regular and correct procedure would have been more deeply wounding than that of which England complains. We may be permitted to doubt with General Scott that "the injury would have been less, had it been greater." But this is not the practical question, the only one that now concerns us. The point is to get out of embarrassment; and the error committed by the commander of the San Jacinto furnishes a reasonable ground for consenting to the liberation of the prisoners.

Far from being a humiliation to the Government at Washington, this act of wisdom would be one of its brightest titles to glory. It would prove that it is not wanting in moral power, that men calumniate it in representing it as the slave of a bad democracy, incapable of resisting the clamor of the streets, and of accepting, for the safety of the country, an hour of unpopularity.

Let it believe us, its true friends, that in arresting Messrs. Mason and Slidell, it has done more for the cause of the South than Generals Beauregard or Price would have done by winning two great victories on the Potomac and in Missouri. Messrs. Mason and Slidell are a hundred times more dangerous under the bolts of Fort Warren than in the streets of Paris or London; what their diplomacy would not certainly have obtained for them in many months, Captain Wilkes has procured for them in an hour. See what rejoicing is taking place in the camps of the Southern partisans! They were beginning to despair; recognition, that only chance of the defenders of slavery, seemed farther off than ever; the recent successes of the Federal army announced the commencement of a great change in affairs. The war was carried from the suburbs of Washington to the heart of South Carolina itself; the only resources of consequence remaining, were those that might spring up during the winter from the discontent of our industrial centres. Yet behold, suddenly, the state of affairs transformed; recognition becomes possible, the blockade is threatened, the United States are in danger of being forced to turn from the South to face a more redoubtable foe!

Really, what has Mr. Jefferson Davis done for you, that you should render him such a service!

Let us now turn to England, and tell her also the truth.

So long as England shall not treat the affair of the Trent on its own merits and with coolness, so long as she shall give ear to those falsehoods invented by passion, which envenom questions of this sort, and exclude conciliatory measures and pacific hopes, she will labor actively to destroy all that she has gloriously built upon earth. It is impossible to imagine the consequences, fatal to every form of liberty, which such a policy would comprise within itself.

It was at first supposed that Captain Wilkes had acted by virtue of instructions, and that Mr. Lincoln's Government had expressly ordered him to seize the Southern Commissioners on board the English vessel. Now it is found that Captain Wilkes, returning from Africa, had no instructions of any sort. He acted, to use his expression, "at his own risk and peril" like a true Yankee.

It was next supposed that Mr. Lincoln's Government had conceived the ingenious project (such things are gravely printed and find men to believe them!) of seeking of itself a rupture with England. It was in need of new enemies! It hoped, by this means, to rally to itself its present adversaries! It was about to give over combating them, and to seek compensation through the conquest of Canada! I have followed the progress of events in America as attentively as any one, I have read the American newspapers, I have received letters, I have studied documents, among others the famous circular of Mr. Seward; I have seen there more than one sign of discontent with the un-sympathizing attitude of England; I have also seen there the symptoms of the somewhat natural fear which the intervention of Europe in Mexico excites in men attached to the Monroe doctrine; but as to these incredible plans, I have never discovered the slightest trace of them. I add, that a marked return towards friendly relations with England will be manifested the moment that the latter shows herself more amicable towards America.

If there is any quality for which credit cannot be refused to the Government of Mr. Lincoln, it is precisely that of moderation and good sense. He has not taken very high ground—he has abstained, far too much, in my opinion, from laying down those principles, from uttering those words which create sympathies, and make the conscience of the human race vibrate in unison. Say that he is a little prosaic, a little of the earth, earthy; do not say that he blusters, and that the best thing that England can do is to attack him without waiting to be first attacked.

In order to support, right or wrong, a fable which has found but too ready belief, another story was invented: the Government of Mr. Lincoln was at the end of its strength; despairing henceforth of conquering the South, it wished at any price to procure a diversion. Those who hold such language have doubtless never heard either of the Beaufort expedition, or of the evacuation of Missouri by the Confederate troops, or of the victory recently gained in Kentucky. They do not know that the United States have accomplished the prodigy of putting half a million of men under arms, that acts of insubordination have nearly ceased, that volunteers for three years have everywhere replaced the three months' volunteers. They do not know that the finances of the country are prosperous, and that Mr. Chase, the Secretary of the Treasury, has just negotiated, under favorable conditions, the last part of his loan. I recommend them to read the last letters of Mr. Russell, the correspondent of the Times; they will see there what an impartial witness thought lately of the respective chances of the North and South.

Yes, before the intervention of the San Jacinto,—that involuntary ally of the South, to whom the inhabitants of Charleston themselves ought to vote swords of honor—before the San Jacinto, the situation of the United States presented the most favorable aspect. Since that time, I admit, it has changed. Let us see now whether English indignation has not given to the act of Captain Wilkes greatly exaggerated proportions.

English indignation has omitted one side of the affair, I mean the conduct of the packet Trent. If, by chance, it should have violated the principles of neutrality, this question would wear quite a different aspect. This, doubtless, would not prevent the demand for reparation from being well founded; it would prevent the negotiations relating to it from assuming an air of harshness, which would suffice to render their success doubtful. Let us therefore examine the conduct of the Trent.

Some have thought to justify it, by observing that the vessel was going from America. What does this matter? Neutrals are bound to act as neutrals when they are going from a place as well as when they are coming towards it. They might as easily take sides with one of the belligerents by carrying despatches, for instance, designed to secure to it aid, as by bringing it other despatches announcing that this aid was forthcoming.

Others have based their arguments on the fact that the Trent had quitted a neutral port to repair to a neutral port. Again, a distinction which proclamations of neutrality have never admitted, and which no jurisprudence has endorsed to my knowledge. What does plain good sense tell us, in fact? That your departure from a neutral port and your destination to a neutral port do not hinder you in any way from serving the belligerent whose despatches you have received, especially if these despatches are on the way to solicit from a neutral country an alliance or supplies of munitions of war.

The rights of neutrals demand to be preserved, in my opinion, and France is interested in it more than any other nation. But these rights, let us not fear to acknowledge, have for their fundamental condition, a real neutrality. Now, you take it upon yourself, knowingly and willingly, to carry despatches destined for a country to which it is a notorious fact that one of the belligerents is looking for its only serious chances of success. These despatches are drawn up, it may be, in this wise: "Let vessels loaded with arms and ammunition leave Southampton or Liverpool as quickly as possible and come to Charleston, where the cruisers are now few in number; let expeditions be combined in such a manner as to force the blockade; we are in need of their arrival in order to push our army forward." Or else the despatches read: "Buy up the newspapers and work on public opinion in the manufacturing districts. Let maritime powers know that we will consent, if necessary, to cessions of territory or protectorates; that, in any case, we will grant them exceptional advantages if they protest against the blockade, if they disquiet our enemy, if they seek a quarrel with him and draw off his attention to fix it on, an eventual struggle with Europe. At the first step of this kind, we will attempt an offensive movement. The least menace against the blockade is worth as much to us as the despatch of an army." Is it not to mock at people, in the face of so new a position, of a war in which one of the parties, though he does not fail to boast of his strength and his resources, counts in fact, before every thing, upon European support, to propound fine theories in accordance with which the transportation of despatches sent from a neutral port and destined for a neutral country, would not be contrary to neutrality, because these despatches could not increase the military advantages of either of the belligerents?

It has been sought to assimilate mail packets to vessels of war, and consequently to except them from the exercise of the right of search. The pretence is so ill-founded that it falls to the ground upon examination. Who does not feel that the presence of a lieutenant of the royal navy or the color of a uniform is not sufficient to constitute a vessel of war or a transport?

It is asked whether other packets, which have carried ministers sent by the United States to Europe, have not also infringed the rules of neutrality? It is possible, but this does not concern us. Supposing that the mission of these ministers in Europe, where they are regularly accredited like their predecessors to the different governments, and where they have no support, no new act, no violation of the blockade to demand, may be assimilated to the mission of the Southern delegates; supposing that their letters of credit bear some analogy to the despatches intrusted to Messrs. Mason and Slidell, it belonged in any case to the Southern cruisers to stop and search the packets in which they had taken passage. The powerlessness of one of the belligerents could not impose on the other the duty of abstaining in like manner.

Resting next on the diplomatic quality of the Southern envoys, it has been attempted to insinuate that their mission was purely a civil one. Not only did the diplomatic character not exist, since it had had no recognition, but the Southern Commissioners were expressly charged with, procuring to the armies of slavery the most essential assistance which they could receive in view of military success and strategy. Their success, by ensuring the breaking of the blockade, would alone have been worth more to them than the winning of several battles. I say nothing, moreover, of the shipments of arms and ammunition which they would have doubtless organized in Europe.

Can it be that mail packets have the singular privilege of facilitating such operations without failing in the duties of neutrality? If this be true, it is worth while to have it understood, and so long as it is not understood, we must make some allowance for belligerents who do not consider it self-evident. It is clear that when the exercise of the right of search was defined by precedents and treaties, mail packets did not exist. Perhaps it would be well to lay down special regulations concerning them. This agreement might be profitably negotiated at present between the United States and the maritime powers of Europe. Why should not the conflict which occupies our attention, instead of ending in war, result in a useful negotiation? I have no doubt that the noble overtures, the initiative of which has just been taken by General Scott, would be approved by Mr. Lincoln. To enlarge the scope of the present question, by causing an international progress, an emancipation of the commerce of the world to grow out of it, would be somewhat better, it seems to me, than to cut each other's throats and to ensure the triumph in the middle of the nineteenth century of the most shameful revolt that has ever broken out on earth—a revolt in favor of slavery. England and America, these two great countries, are worthy of giving to the world the spectacle of a generous and fruitful mutual understanding in which a deplorable disagreement shall be swallowed up, as it were, and disappear. Who does not see that, combined with the promulgation of a more liberal regulation of the right of search, the satisfaction demanded of the United States would assume a new character, and would have many more chances of being accorded?

It is the less difficult for the English to take this ground, since the act of the San Jacinto, in which the design of offending England in particular might at first have been suspected, appears to-day under a very different aspect. In proportion as we learn all the exploits of this terrible vessel, its impartiality becomes less dubious. French, Danish, and other vessels were visited by it within a few days; it is certain that if the French instead of the English mail packet had been carrying the commissioners and their papers, the former would have been boarded by Captain Wilkes.

His mode of procedure was rough, and on this point apologies ought to be made. Not indeed that England, who has just sustained in Prussia the famous MacDonald negotiation, is in a very good position to show herself difficult in points of courtesy; nevertheless, the errors of Great Britain in Germany do not excuse those of the United States on the ocean. It appears that Captain Wilkes fired shot to enforce his first order to stop. The remainder was in keeping. Nevertheless, to give every one his due, it is just to remember that he offered to take on board the families of the commissioners and to give them his best cabins. It is just also to add that, after the arrest, the intercourse between the officers of the San Jacinto and the prisoners never ceased to be full of decorum and courtesy.

Let us now approach more closely the question of right. It was well in the first place to rid ourselves of secondary questions which hinder us from seeing it, and above all from seeing it as it is.

They seem to have been afraid in England to look this question of right boldly in the face. There is no subterfuge that they have not tried in order to avoid its serious investigation.

Have they not gone so far as to object to the United States that, considering the Southern States as rebellious and refusing them the quality of belligerents, they could not exercise the right of search, which is reserved to belligerents? From this point of view they add, Messrs. Mason and Slidell would simply be rebels taking refuge under the English flag; and what country would consent to give up political refugees? The answer is simple: no country more than England has recognized, in this instance, the quality of belligerents which her partisans are seeking to contest in her name. Moreover, the Southern blockade is admitted by her and by the other powers; now, blockade is as impossible as right of search apart from a state of war.

Another subterfuge: the United States have always opposed the right of search—it ill becomes them to exercise it. England has always exercised the right of search; it ill becomes her to oppose it. Let us be honest; rights of this kind are always odious to those who submit to them and always dear to those who profit by them. Alas! this is not the only instance in which, a change in our position works a change in our mode of viewing things. Let us take the human heart as it is, and not demand under penalty of war, that the Americans, in the midst of one of the most terrible social crises (and also of the most glorious) of which history makes mention, should hesitate to seize a weapon which was formerly used against them and which they feel the need of using in return. In neglecting to seize it, they would fail perhaps in their duty to themselves and to the noble cause of which they are the representatives.

There is finally a last and more simple manner of avoiding an embarrassing examination: "What is the use of examining precedents?" we hear on every side, "This is not a matter for legal advisers." It appears to me, however, that it is something of the kind, since Great Britain has begun by interrogating the lawyers of the Crown, and since she has made peace or war depend on the decision which they might render. It would be too convenient, truly, to take exception to precedents made by one's self, and to say to those who act as he has not ceased to do: "I permit no one to imitate me; what I practised in times past, I authorize no one to practise to-day. I have not apprised you of this, but you ought to have divined it, and for not having divined it, you shall have war."

Precedents keep then their full value. What are they?

The enemies of America have cited one which has nothing to do here; the letter written by King Louis Philippe to Queen Victoria to express his regret that a pilot under the protection of the British flag had been carried away by the expedition bound to Mexico. A very different thing is an abduction of this kind, having nothing in common with the right of search or the maintenance of neutrality, and the capture of the Southern Commissioners.

It is in the familiar history of the right of search that precedents must he sought, and they abound there.

In quoting some of them, I impose on myself a double law: first, I will not confound acts of violence with precedents, and from the abuse which the English made in times past of their maritime preponderance, I will not conclude that every one is at liberty to do to-day as they have done; secondly, among the grave and weighty authors who have made a special study of these questions in the quiet of their retirement, I will confine myself to consulting none but English authorities. Doubtless, they will not think of challenging these in England.

Chancellor Kent writes: "If, on making the search, it be discovered that the vessel is employed hi contraband trade, that it transports the enemy's property, troops, or despatches, it may be rightfully seized and carried for adjudication before a prize court."

Mr. Phillimore, an English author and an authority on these questions, and one of the judges in the Admiralty, expresses himself thus: "The carrying of official despatches written by official personages on the public affairs of one of the belligerents, impresses a hostile character on those bearing them."

Sir William Scott is no less precise: "The transportation of two or three shiploads of ammunition is necessarily a limited assistance; but, by despatches, the whole plan of the campaign may be transmitted in such a manner as to destroy all the plans of the other belligerent in that part of the world." And he dwells at length on this idea, insisting on the incompatibility which exists between veritable neutrality and the bearing of despatches, "which is an act of the most prejudicial and hostile nature."

Let us also cite Mr. Jenkinson, afterwards Lord Liverpool. He establishes in clear terms the fundamental principle of the matter by putting this question, which plain good sense must answer: "Can it be lawful for you to extend this right (that of the free navigation of neutral vessels) in such a way as to injure me and to serve my enemy?"

Observe that the Queen, in her proclamation of neutrality, has been careful not to omit the interdiction of the transport of despatches. She therein declares that those who transport "officers, soldiers, despatches, arms, ammunition, or any other article considered by law and modern usage as contraband of war, for either of the contenders, will do it at his own risk and peril, and will incur the high displeasure of her Majesty."

Nothing can be more explicit, more consistent, and at the same time more reasonable than these declarations. Sir William Scott is right in saying, that, in undertaking to carry despatches, persons cease to be neutrals and become enemies; this is evident, above all, in the present conflict. As the serious chances of success of the South are all in Europe, as it would not have revolted had it not counted on Europe, as it would lay down its arms to-morrow if it were proved to it that never, for cotton or any thing else, would Europe come to its aid, it follows, thenceforth, that the despatches forwarded from the South to Europe greatly surpass in military importance the sending of soldiers or supplies.

This being so, what ought the commander of the packet Trent to have done? I do not impugn his intentions, he may have acted very innocently; but if this excuse of ignorance of the rules of the law be valid for him, I think that it should also be so for Captain Wilkes, and that there would be little justice in treating with extreme rigor a first offence which evidently has taken every one by surprise, and has found nowhere a very complete understanding of the conditions of the right of search.

The commander of the Trent saw men come to him, whose quality as Southern Commissioners challenged his attention. He knew what anxiety and trouble were pervading the North concerning their mission and despatches, the contents of which excited grave suspicions; there had even been talk, exaggerated, doubtless, of a proposition of a protectorate and other offers, designed to gain at any price the support of one or more maritime powers. The enthusiastic welcome which the people of Havana, enemies of the United States, and ardent friends of slavery, had just given to Messrs. Mason and Slidell, permits no doubt of the especial gravity of the hostile mandate with which they were charged. Then or never was the occasion to say that messengers and messages of this nature must travel under their own flag, and that neutrals were bound not to facilitate their mission in any manner. In circumstances so grave, and with such a responsibility, commanders of packets could not take refuge behind their innocence, or argue that the consul of the United States had not taken pains to forewarn them. I should like to know what reception a neutral would find in England, who should take it into his head to say to her: "I thought myself at liberty to carry hostile despatches and those bearing them, because the English consul did not come to bind me to do nothing of the sort."

Is it true, as has been maintained, that the fault was divided, the message having been carried by one packet and the messengers by another? This appears doubtful, and matters little, moreover, in the eyes of impartial judges. The fact is, that voluminous papers were seized on the Trent, at the same time with the rebel commissioners.

Now, and to have done with the question of right, shall I say a few words of what it is permissible to call the hackneyed rhetoric and declamation of the subject?

Men have talked, of course, of an insult to the flag; they have called to mind that the deck of an English vessel is the same as the soil of the country; they have invoked the rights of British hospitality, and demanded whether she could consent to see her guests taken from her by force. So many phrases for effect, which unhappily never fail to arouse implacable passions! But what is there behind these phrases?

The flag is not insulted when the search is exercised in conformity with the law of nations. It is in vain that the deck of an English merchant vessel is the soil of the country; a belligerent is authorized to seize it, if it is carrying men employed in behalf of the enemy; officers, for example. The rights of hospitality are bounded by the duties of neutrality, and the vessel which would claim to protect its guests at any price, when its guests serve the war, would simply be guilty of a culpable action.

In brief, there are wrongs on both sides, and if ever difference admitted of discussion, interpretation, if necessary, arbitration even, it is certainly this. Be sure, therefore, that Europe, attentive to all that is passing, and desirous of averting war, will find it inexplicable if the question be put in insulting terms, of a nature to render hostilities almost inevitable.

If, in fine, Captain Wilkes had seized the vessel instead of seizing the Commissioners, and if the vessel had been duly condemned by an American court, the proceeding would have been irreproachably regular. This being so, by the acknowledgment of the English themselves, who will be willing to admit that any will be found bold enough to cause an irretrievably fatal rupture to grow out of a quarrel of this kind, concerning the mode of procedure. England has consulted her legal advisers; America will consult hers also. Do disputes in which the national honor is involved admit of consultations of this sort? Are lawyers or judges ever asked whether the country is insulted or attacked when it really is so?

Let England assure herself that the first condition of the demand for reparation is, that she shall make the reparation possible. Time is needed. Patience is needed—patience which will not pause before the first difficulty, and take as final the first refusal. Courtesy is needed—courtesy, which, in the stronger, agrees so well with dignity, and avoids rendering the form of satisfaction unnecessarily wounding and consequently almost inadmissible. It is clear that if she contents herself with signifying to Washington an absolute demand, if she gives a single week, if she exacts (let us foresee the impossible) not only the setting at liberty of the Commissioners themselves, but their transportation on an American vessel charged to trail its repentant flag across the seas, if she accepts no more easy mode, if she hearkens to no mediation, it is clear that Mr. Lincoln will need superhuman courage to grant what she thus demands.

This superhuman courage I wish for him, I ask of him; in displaying it, he will have deserved much of America and of humanity. But I hope little for such marvels, nor do I believe that it is fitting to exact miracles in serious affairs.

The English were full of condescension and generosity towards America while she was strong. If they should be so unfortunate as no longer to have condescension and generosity towards America, when she is weak, they would warrant suppositions much more fatal to their honor than is the grave error (yet easily reparable with the good will of both parties) just committed by Captain Wilkes.

I have the right to hold this language to them, for I am of the number of those who lore England and have proved it. In my first parliamentary speech, which was on occasion of this very right of search, I exposed myself to much animosity in defending her. Later, in the Pritchard affair, I did not draw back. Even from the depths of my retreat, it has rarely happened to me to take up my pen without rendering homage to a country and government which are not popular among us. I have reason, therefore, to hope that my words will have some weight. Nothing is more antipathetic to me than a coarse and ignorant anglophobia.

But it is important for England to know all the phases of the debate in which she has entered. It has a European phase. This is not a discussion between two powers; a third, the first of all, public opinion, must also have its say. It wishes peace, and will not let it be sacrificed for an error easily repaired and voluntarily exaggerated. Public opinion strongly repudiates the cause of the South, which is that of slavery; (the speeches of Mr. Stephens, Vice-President of the Southern Confederacy, give proof of this.) At the announcement of the heinous fact that England recognizes the Confederacy expressly founded to maintain, glorify, and extend slavery, public opinion, believe me, would give vent to an outburst of wrath which would cast the indignation meetings of Liverpool wholly in the shade.

England has maintained her neutrality in the New World for the year past, and she deserves well for this, for angry instincts dictated to her another policy. However, if she has been neutral, she has not been sympathizing. This vast social revolution, which, began with the election of Mr. Lincoln, which had inscribed on its banner, "No extension of slavery," and which thus entered in the way leading one day to emancipation; this generous revolution which deserved to be encouraged, has met with little in England but distrust and hostility. Upon other points, while preserving her neutrality, England knows very well how to give her moral support to causes which she loves—the support of journals, of parliamentary speeches, and of public meetings. Here, there is nothing of the sort. I know not what fatal misunderstanding has kept down the generous sentiments which should have made themselves felt. From the beginning, the principal English journals, especially those reputed to express the views of Lord Palmerston, have not ceased to proclaim openly that the South was right in seceding, that the separation was without remedy, that it was just and in conformity with the wishes of England. Again and again has the recognition of the South been presented as an act to be expected and for which we must be prepared.

From all this, if care be not taken, the inference will be drawn that, in the excessive eagerness with which the affair of the Trent has been seized upon, in the peremptory terms of the demand for redress, in the form adopted in order to render the reparation difficult, may be seen the intention of reaching the end which England proposes; of effecting the recognition, breaking the blockade, obtaining cotton, and substituting a parcelled-out America for the too powerful Republic of the United States.

Liverpool has, this time, given the signal, Lancashire urges on the rupture; behind the national honor, there may be something else. Take care! if this must not be thought, it must not be true.

And it will be true if you declare the question closed at the very moment when it begins to attract public attention; if you exact a reparation without admitting an explanation; if, in short, you reject in advance all idea of negotiation, mediation, or arbitration.

War, instead of negotiation, mediation, or arbitration; war, at the first word, for a question which has been submitted to legal advisers, and which offers facilities assuredly for several equally sincere interpretations; war at, any price does not belong to our times.

What I say here, others will make it their business to say on the other side of the channel; there have been, there will be, liberal and Christian voices there, who will not fear to protest against the incitements of passion. We have heard little yet except the bells of the manufactories; other sounds will soon make themselves heard; the great party which, in abolishing slavery and combating the slave trade, has won the chief title of honor in England—this great party, I think, is not dead. It is time for it to give signs of life.

As to America, its friends are awaiting its final resolutions with an anxiety which I scarcely dare depict. Never was graver question placed before a government. The whole future is contained in it. If she be sufficiently mistress of herself to grant what is asked and to admit a reparation, even though it be excessive, of the fault evidently committed in her name, she will have the approbation and esteem of all true hearts. Her ship—the ship which brings, back the Commissioners —will be welcomed with acclamations to our shores, and it will be plainly seen that the United States in yielding much is neither weakened nor humiliated.

Ah! the affair would he so easily arranged, if both sides desired it! On both sides are men so worthy to effect a reconciliation for the glory of our times and the happiness of humanity! On both sides are nations so well fitted to understand and to love each other! Must we despair then of the progress of the spirit of peace? Must we look with our own eyes upon English vessels employed in ensuring the success of the champions of slavery? Must we veil our head with our mantle?

A. DE GASPARIN.

VALLEYRES, (SWITZERLAND,) December 5, 1861.

P.S.—I wish to add here a single observation: I have not pretended to exhaust, in this rapid study, the decisions which might be borrowed from English authors, and which would be of a kind to be appealed to by America. Sir William Scott, for example, (see C. Robinson, p. 467,) says in express terms: "You may stop the ambassador of your enemy." I have been careful not to draw the conclusion from this, on my part, that Captain Wilkes was right in acting as he did; I simply infer from it that the case is by no means a hanging one, and that in stopping the Commissioners and their papers without stopping the ship and turning her from her course, he yielded perhaps (let us be just to all) to the desire of not exposing the packet and passengers to serious inconveniences. Let us say that he was unfortunate, since his courtesy on this point seems to have become the blackest of his misdeeds. In truth, to see in the affair of the Trent, all that England has seen in it, it is necessary to commence by supposing that the United States, which have already a sufficiently heavy task on their hands, it seems to me, have been tempted, besides, to procure a quarrel with Great Britain. Hypotheses of this kind will be welcomed only by those who feel themselves unconquerably impelled to praise the messages of Mr. Jefferson Davis, and to stretch their hand decidedly to the brave South, which has so much to complain of, and which is defending so just a cause![C]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote C: This article, with the exception of a few changes and additions, was inserted in the Journal des Debats, December 11, 12, and 18.]

THE END