Is any other principle really involved in this contest? The people of the North might have resorted to force to emancipate the negro. Had they done so, all thoughtful men would have shuddered at the probable consequences of attempting such a change by such means,-yet would have looked with respect on so magnanimous a sacrifice. We have seen on ample evidence that no such object existed that on, the contrary, the sole purpose of the war was to retain the South in the Union, and with it, to retain and to perpetuate Slavery in the Union. The Abolitionists would have us to believe the reverse of this; they tell us the reason, "that this war has not been proclaimed a war for the emancipation of the negro, specifically, was because the extent and magnitude of the issue transcended the wants of any particular race, and had to do with the very existence of free society." This transcendental freedom is too ethereal for the present world. The words of Mr. Lincoln are less. elaborate, they appear the truthful words of an earnest man. He, as President of the United States, not only abjured this as the object of the war, but, as we have seen, expressed his willingness that by an amendment to the Constitution, Slavery should be made irrevocable in the States, so far as the Federal power could extend.

By this time, indeed, the true purpose of the war must be plain to any comprehension. It is simply the old ambition in a new guise. Formerly it filled the breast of one man; when it impels a

sovereign people it cannot be less selfish and may be more reprehensible. Sovereigns, too, who have gone forth to invade and subdue have attacked other races and acted without disguise. It remained for the present time to witness one part of the same people attempting to subjugate the other. Whatever be the apology or the motive-the fact is there.

And beyond the question of any principle at issue, we have been told that we are under some peculiar obligation which we cannot rightfully discard-that there exists some fine, imperceptible tie that should be binding upon us, upon our thoughts, opinions, sympathies that we are, indeed, the "natural allies" of the Northern power. In what consists the evidence of this natural alliance; what fruit has it yielded by which it may be known; what treatment have we received at the hands of the Union that should leave us under this sense of obligation, or awaken an eagerness on our part to see that Union restored?

A French writer, Raymond, comments upon the singular fact that whilst between England and France but one serious quarrel has occurred since 1815, there have arisen during the same period twelve or thirteen most serious difficulties between the United States and ourselves. He makes the observation that when people play so often with fire it will end some day in a conflagration. Now if these incessant difficulties have arisen from faults of temper or an over-reaching spirit on our part, it

appears remarkable that such a disposition should not have affected our intercourse with France. When such qualities exist they are usually well known to the nearest neighbour.

Since the period of American independence we have had two great wars. On each occasion we resisted great military empires in support of weaker powers who were struggling to maintain their independence. When thus employed we had some right to expect the sympathy, if nothing more, of those who have made the name of independence an object of idolatry. But throughout the whole of our struggle with Napoleon the sympathy of the great majority in the United States was with the military despot, not with the free people; and at length, when our strength was supposed to be fully occupied, our "natural allies" took the opportunity to make war upon us for reasons equally applicable to France, and for the real purpose of taking from us some of our provinces. The other great war was with Russia-a war entered upon against every narrow calculation of interest, to prevent a weak power from being trampled down. All know with whom was then the sympathy of the United States; and Golovin, who, as a Russian, should be a good authority, remarks that "the true secret of American sympathy with Russia on that occasion was hatred of England." We have had minor wars with China, conducted on the principle of throwing open to the world every advantage obtained by ourselves. On one occasion

we invited the co-operation of the American Government, but in vain, and every opportunity was seized to thwart our policy. Even the Chinese know they may expect to see the flag of any other power in union with our own, but never that of America. There was, indeed, a moment, when our men were falling under a murderous fire, that for once an American was heard to declare that "blood was thicker than water." It would ill become us to forget the noble conduct of Commodore Tatnall on that occasion. He was a Southerner, and is now a "traitor and a rebel,"

The Oregon boundary question was pushed to the very brink of war, when for peace' sake we were constrained to abandon our settlements upon and possession of the Columbia River. There was subsequently the Maine boundary question. Let any one take the present map of the United States, and consider, as a matter of reason, whether, when peace terminated the revolutionary war, a boundary line would be so drawn as to sever our colonies in two, and this at a point where nothing existed of interest or value to the United States. That peace was negociated by Franklin. When the treaty on this subject was made by Lord Ashburton, the Government of the United States was in possession of the map sent by Franklin to the French ministry, and deposited in their archives— a map authenticated by a note in his own handwriting. On that map appeared a strong red ink

line drawn by Franklin's own hand, and referred to in his note. The Government was also possessed of a map found in Jefferson's collection, on which again a similar red ink line delineated the true boundary. Franklin's map was discovered by Mr. Jared Sparks, who, when forwarding it to the United States' Government, wrote thus: "The line is bold and distinct in every part, made with red ink. There is no other colouring on any part of the map. Imagine my surprise on discovering that this line was wholly south of the St. John's. It is exactly the line contended for by Great Britain, except that it concedes more than is claimed." All this evidence was produced before the Senate Jefferson's map as well as Franklin's -the two as Mr. Rives observed, "coinciding minutely and exactly." Here was absolute proof of the truth. Yet it does not appear that any was found in that Senate to rise and say, "Let us do what is right; we see in Franklin's own handwriting-as though he had risen from the grave to instruct us what was the true boundary agreed to by him; let us obtain no advantage by concealment of these maps, but seek what is just to others and honourable to ourselves." In the place of such sentiments, it appears to have been considered a clever thing to cajole a British negociator, and to sever Canada from New Brunswick.

The boundaries of the waters have been disputed as well as those of the land, and there was the tempestuous question of the fisheries along the shores