Sunday Dispatch

the dangers of intervention. From the letter of the former I make these extracts:

From the moment that intelligence first reached this country that nine United States and several millions of inhabitants of the great American Union had seceded and made war upon the government President Lincoln at the present time her Majesty government have pursued a friendly, open, and consistent course. They have been neutral between the two parties to a civil war

Neither the loss of raw material of manufacture, so necessary to a great portion of our people, nor insults constantly heaped upon the British name in speeches and newspapers, nor a rigor beyond the usual practice of nations with which the Queen subjects attempting from the blockade the Southern ports have been treated, have induced her Majesty's Government to swerve an inch from an impartial neutrality.

At this moment they have nothing more at heart than to see the consummation which the President speaks of in his answer to the Governors eighteen States namely "the bringing of this insurrectionary and injurious civil war speedy and satisfactory conclusion"
As to the course of opinion in this country, the President is aware that perfect freedom to comment upon all public events is, in this country, the invariable practice sanctioned by law and approved by the universal sense of the nation.
The state of feeling to which I have above referred, and the deeply-seated wishes of the people to aid your government in this extremity, will lead them to instantaneous action in any beneficial measure which may be suggested, and will hasten them in making a practical application of the last clause of the extracts above quoted. Let a hint be dropped by the Government, no matter how indirect, obscure, or non-committal, that it will second their efforts in the manner hereinafter stated, they, themselves, will redress a wrong and form an alliance beyond the power of governmental diplomacy to accomplish unless by a direct infraction of treaties. Within one week from the time of the date of this letter, they will meet in every election district of every loyal State, and solemnly, before their God and in the presence of each other, pledge themselves in writing not to knowingly purchase

AN ARTICLE OF BRITISH MANUFACTURE,

of any nature or kind, after the lapse of six weeks from the time they make the pledge—thus giving an opportunity to holders to get rid of the stock which they may then possess, but warning them to import no more, or if they should do so, making the penalty a total suspension of their home trade in British, as well as every other, species of fabrics. At such meetings there will be no need of a police force or a provost marshal's guard, to prevent hostile opinions from a peace-breaking expression; but the whole people, those of all degrees—the Irish with fierce alacrity—will come with unanimity of purpose to the performance of this duty, as famishing men go to a feast. What will be the effect of such a measure

ON FRANCE?

As soon as the news of this retributive act would reach that country, the looms now at rest would be set in vigorous motion; the arm of labor, now almost paralyzed, would be imbued with new strength; plenty would loom up in place of starvation, and every energy would be strained to meet the new and broad demand for all those fabrics in the manufacture of which, France had previously been the great competitor of England. The strong bond of commerce would be ligatured around the two peoples and an alliance of interest thus formed which no monarch would dare attempt to break; or, if he dared, the loss of his throne would be the inevitable sequel. Fears of intervention in that quarter would thus be made to cease, and the question of a violation of the Monroe doctrine would be thrown open to a healthful diplomatic solution. What would be

THE EFFECT ON ENGLAND

It might be diplomatic; perhaps warlike; but in either event, of no benefit to her exchequer; that part of her system which is more tender than her national honor. Her operatives might be made to languish and die by the waysides; they might, in their agony, while pinched by gaunt famine, forget their phlegm and their respect for law, and taking a lesson from a more mercurial people, arise in masses and utter the terrible cry, "du pain ou du sang!"—"bread or blood!"—and be shot down like the dogs which their oppressors deem them, and thus give to the English press a wide field for squibs and lampoons on themes of wretchedness at home; of turning misery to mirth, horror to humor, cries of anguish to caricatures of fun, thus saving the necessity of crossing the Atlantic and searching amid our gory battle-fields for subjects of grim pleasantry. The distresses of the masses of England are now, unquestionably, great. Eighteen thousand of her operatives, within two manufacturing districts, received parochial relief within the week previous to the sailing of the last steamer. Winter is at hand, and we can well imagine what would be the sufferings of such under the rigors of the season when combined with a stoppage of American trade. For their present and prospective misery—appalling as it may be—we should not be held responsible: it would be the just result of the acts of the people of England. Should our relations with her survive this retributive act of our people, we might throw another coal of fire on her head—though, as before, it would fall without singeing a hair, or evoking the slightest gratitude—and once more without charge, or hope of reward feed her famishing subjects out of the measure of our abundance.
It is possible that the government of Great Britain might ask an explanation of the non-trading act of our people. If so, our State Department might say that the right of the people of this country to wear what they like, and to use any implements and materials that they may please, "in perfect freedom, is in this country the invariable practice, sanctioned by law and approved by the universal sense of the people;" and then close our catalogue of diplomatic griefs by begging their acceptance of the "assurances of the continuance of our most distinguished consideration." The Cabinet of Great Britain—if the present one should hold together—might withdraw their representative at Washington. Such an act generally means war. Suppose it to be so: a question as to

MONITORS THEN ARISES,

and we are led to inquire why the principle of warfare which has been tested and found eminently effective at sea cannot be adopted on land? This is what I meant when I said, above, that the people would like some assurance that the Government would "second their efforts." If we are to have a war with England, it will mainly be of a naval character, and—aside from fights at sea, which two can play at, as events have proved—our sea and inland ports would be their places of attack and our points of defense, and this seconding of the efforts of the people simply means that the Government should place those ports in such a condition as that fears of the result of a war need not be entertained. It may be possible that a display, on our part, of ample readiness