about to plunge into a fratricidal war—about to vindicate our honour in the shadow of the blood-red banners of slavery. Bold and boastful as is the language of the London Press, it is easy to see that there is a tremour in the writer's hand. Every second morning a tone of misgiving seems to soften the reckless bravery even of the Times. It will not do; people cannot satisfy their consciences, though goaded on by the sense of insult, that it is a high Christian thing to burden the nation with debt, and to spill the nation's blood on the wrong side of the American civil broils. At first the sense of wrong sent every man's hand to the sword-hilt. But the hard logic of consequences has tempered men's minds wonderfully during the last three weeks. Those who are little affected by feelings of brotherhood or sympathy with freedom, see reason to pause in the loss, of trade and the increase of taxation, and I doubt much whether, if war be declared, it will long remain a popular war.
We have lately lived in such a Babel of international law—such a dinning conflict of opinions from publicists, journalists, and Parliamentarians, that the ground of quarrel can only be reached
