so well by us. "But," said my friend, in answer to all this, "we
should not have proclaimed to the world that we regarded you and
them as standing on an equal footing." There again appeared the
true gist of the offense. A word from England such as that spoken
by Lord John Russell was of such weight to the South that the North
could not endure to have it spoken. I did not say to that
gentleman, but here I may say that, had such circumstances arisen
as those conjectured, and had America spoken such a word, England
would not have felt herself called upon to resent it.

But the fairer analogy lies between Ireland and the Southern
States. The monster meetings and O'Connell's triumphs are not so
long gone by but that many of us can remember the first demand for
secession made by Ireland, and the line which was then taken by
American sympathies. It is not too much to say that America then
believed that Ireland would secure secession, and that the great
trust of the Irish repealers was in the moral aid which she did and
would receive from America. "But our government proclaimed no
sympathy with Ireland," said my friend. No. The American
government is not called on to make such proclamations, nor had
Ireland ever taken upon herself the nature and labors of a
belligerent.

That this anger on the part of the North is unreasonable, I cannot
doubt. That it is unfortunate, grievous, and very bitter, I am
quite sure. But I do not think that it is in any degree
surprising. I am inclined to think that, did I belong to Boston as
I do belong to London, I should share in the feeling, and rave as
loudly as all men there have raved against the coldness of England.
When men have on hand such a job of work as the North has now