PREFACE. HIS Essay, as the reader will see, was written some time ago; and both in it, and in the conversation which follows, the Author may have uttered sentiments and opinions which the events that have since occurred would modify. He thinks it better, however, not to attempt any such modification. The two chief instances in which modification would have been necessary, are in reference to what is said about France and America. In the interval of time that has elapsed since the writing of the essay, the conduct of France has been of a nature to attract the sympathy of other nations. In America, unhappily, the reverse has occurred. The Northern States have persevered in an attempt at conquest, which may be noble in their own eyes, but which in ours offers no prospect of good. Let it be granted that success should ultimately attend their efforts in arms, we in Europe cannot but foresee a new train of difficulties arising out of that success. We think it is a conquest which even victories may rather hinder than promote. Then, there has been amongst them a violence of language, which, though it may mean much less than it says, must tend to alienate from them the sympathies of other nations, especially of England. Their policy, as regards international law and commercial intercourse, has been retrograde. Their Statesmen have shown a cruel averseness to admit, until the last moment, the wrongfulness of an act which civilized Europe, with marvellous unanimity, protested against. They have destroyed, or at least have endeavoured to destroy, one of the most precious of the possessions of the world—a harbour. And then they say, 'Love us, admire us, sympathize with us, for we are your brethren.' But we cannot do so. you A similar difficulty often occurs in private life. Your friend comes to you to tell you of some great wrong that he says he has endured; and, as he angrily relates his story, find that it so little bears out his first statement, that you are compelled, if you are to be a friend to truth and justice as well as to him, to disapprove of his proceedings. If your friend is very loveable, you sometimes part from truth and justice, and, imposing silence on your judgment, become a hearty partizan of his. But the friendship of nations is not so close as that; and, even when joined in the most amicable relations, they are apt to view each other's conduct with somewhat of a judicial impartiality. Then, the Northern States appeal to us, as Englishmen, by our hatred to slavery, to sympathize with them. But the trumpet of Freedom, as sounded by them, gives such an uncertain sound, that we cannot respond to its summons. We look around, and see the quiet, |