SPEECH.

FELLOW-CITIZENS,—From the beginning of the war in which we are now engaged, the public interest has alternated anxiously between the current of events at home and the more distant current abroad. Foreign Relations have been hardly less absorbing than Domestic Relations. At times the latter seem to wait upon the former, and a packet from Europe is like a messenger from the seat of war. Rumors of foreign intervention are constant, now in the form of mediation, and then in the form of recognition; and more than once the country has been summoned to confront the menace of England, and of France, too, in open combination with Rebel Slavemongers battling in the name of Slavery to build an infamous power on the destruction of this Republic.

It is well for us to turn aside from battle and siege at home, from the blazing lines of Vicksburg, Gettysburg, and Charleston, to glance for a moment at the perils from abroad: of course I mean from England and France; for these are the only foreign powers thus far moved to intermeddle on the side of Slavery. The subject to which I invite attention may want the attraction of waving standards or victorious marches; but, more than any conflict of arms, it concerns the civilization of the age. If foreign powers can justly interfere against human freedom, this Republic will not be the only sufferer.

There is always a natural order in unfolding a subject, and I shall try to pursue it on this occasion, under the following heads.

First. The perils to our country from foreign powers, especially foreshadowed in the unexpected and persistent conduct of England and France since the outbreak of the war.

Secondly. The nature of foreign intervention by mediation, with the principles applicable thereto, illustrated by historic instances, showing especially how England, by conspicuous, wide-spread, and most determined intervention to promote the extinction of African Slavery, is irrevocably committed against any act or policy that can encourage this criminal pretension.

Thirdly. The nature of foreign intervention by recognition, with the principles applicable thereto, illustrated by historic instances, showing that by the practice of nations, and especially by the declared sentiments of British statesmen, there can be no foreign recognition of an insurgent power, where the contest for independence is still pending.

Fourthly. The moral impossibility of foreign recognition, even if the pretended power be de facto independent, where it is composed of Rebel Slavemongers seeking to found a new power with Slavery for its declared “corner-stone.” Pardon the truthful plainness of the terms I employ. I am to speak not merely of Slaveholders, but of people to whom Slavery is a passion and a business, therefore Slavemongers,—now in rebellion for the sake of Slavery, therefore Rebel Slavemongers.

Fifthly. The absurdity and wrong of conceding ocean belligerence to a pretended power, which, in the first place, is without a Prize Court, so that it cannot be an ocean belligerent in fact,—and, in the second place, even if ocean belligerent in fact, is of such an odious character that its recognition is a moral impossibility.

From this review, touching upon the present and the past, leaning upon history and upon law, enlightened always by principles which are an unerring guide, our conclusion will be easy.

I.

The perils to our country, foreshadowed in the action of foreign powers since the outbreak of the war, first invite attention.

There is something in the tendencies of nations which must not be neglected. Like individuals, nations influence each other; like the heavenly bodies, they are disturbed by each other in their appointed orbits. Apparent even in peace, this becomes more so in the convulsions of war, whether from the withdrawal of customary forces or from their increased momentum. It is the nature of war to enlarge as it continues. Beginning between two nations, it gradually widens its circle, ingulfing other nations in its fiery maelström. Such is human history. Nor is it different, if the war be for independence. Foreign powers may for a while keep out of the conflict; but examples of history show how difficult this has been.

There was liberty-loving Holland, which, under that illustrious character, William of Orange, predecessor and exemplar of our Washington, rose against the dominion of Spain, upheld by the bigotry of Philip the Second, and the barbarity of his representative, Alva; but the conflict, though at first limited to the two parties, was not slow to engage Queen Elizabeth, who lent to this war of independence the name of her favorite Leicester and the undying heroism of Sidney, while Spain retorted by the Armada. The United Provinces of Holland, in their struggle for independence, were the prototype of the United States of America, which I need not remind you drew into their contest the arms of France, Spain, and Holland. In the rising of the Spanish colonies there was less interposition of other nations, doubtless from the distant and outlying position they occupied, although not beyond the ambitious reach of the Holy Alliance, whose purposes were so far thwarted by Mr. Canning, backed by the declaration of President Monroe, known as the Monroe doctrine, that the British statesman felt authorized to boast that he had called a new world into existence to redress the balance of the old. Then came the struggle of Greece, which, after painful years darkened by massacre, but relieved by exalted self-sacrifice, shining with names, like Byron and Bozzaris, that cannot die, challenged the powerful interposition of England, France, and Russia. The independence of Greece was hardly acknowledged, when Belgium, renouncing the rule of the Netherlands, claimed hers also, and here again the great powers of Europe were drawn into the contest. Then came the effort of Hungary, inspired by Kossuth, which, when about to prevail, aroused the armies of Russia. There was also the contemporaneous effort of the Roman Republic, under Mazzini, which, almost successful, evoked the bayonets of France. We have only recently witnessed the resurrection of Italy, inspired by Garibaldi, and directed by Cavour; but it was not accomplished, until Louis Napoleon, with well-trained legions, bore the imperial eagles into battle.

Such are famous instances, being so many warnings. Ponder them, and you will see the tendency, the temptation, the irresistible fascination, or the commanding exigency under which foreign nations have been led to participate in conflicts for independence. I do not dwell on the character of these interventions, although mostly in the interest of Human Freedom. It is only as examples to put us on our guard that I adduce them. The footprints all lead one way.

Even our war is not without its warning. If thus far in its progress other nations have failed to intervene, they have not succeeded in keeping entirely aloof. The foreign trumpet has not sounded yet, but more than once the cry has come that we should soon hear it, while incidents too often occur, exhibiting abnormal watchfulness of our affairs and uncontrollable passion or purpose to intermeddle in them, with signs of unfriendly feeling. This is applicable especially, if not exclusively, to England and France.

And at the outset, as I am about to speak frankly, I quote the words of an eminent English statesman and orator, who felt