In brief, there are wrongs on both sides, and if ever difference admitted of discussion, interpretation, if necessary, arbitration even, it is certainly this. Be sure, therefore, that Europe, attentive to all that is passing, and desirous of averting war, will find it inexplicable if the question be put in insulting terms, of a nature to render hostilities almost inevitable.
If, in fine, Captain Wilkes had seized the vessel instead of seizing the Commissioners, and if the vessel had been duly condemned by an American court, the proceeding would have been irreproachably regular. This being so, by the acknowledgment of the English themselves, who will be willing to admit that any will be found bold enough to cause an irretrievably fatal rupture to grow out of a quarrel of this kind, concerning the mode of procedure. England has consulted her legal advisers; America will consult hers also. Do disputes in which the national honor is involved admit of consultations of this sort? Are lawyers or judges ever asked whether the country is insulted or attacked when it really is so?
Let England assure herself that the first condition of the demand for reparation is, that she shall make the reparation possible. Time is needed. Patience is needed—patience which will not pause before the first difficulty, and take as final the first refusal. Courtesy is needed—courtesy, which, in the stronger, agrees so well with dignity, and avoids rendering the form of satisfaction unnecessarily wounding and consequently almost inadmissible. It is clear that if she contents herself with signifying to Washington an absolute demand, if she gives a single week, if she exacts (let us foresee the impossible) not only the setting at liberty of the Commissioners themselves, but their transportation on an American vessel charged to trail its repentant flag across the seas, if she accepts no more easy mode, if she hearkens to no mediation, it is clear that Mr. Lincoln will need superhuman courage to grant what she thus demands.
This superhuman courage I wish for him, I ask of him; in displaying it, he will have deserved much of America and of humanity. But I hope little for such marvels, nor do I believe that it is fitting to exact miracles in serious affairs.
The English were full of condescension and generosity towards America while she was strong. If they should be so unfortunate as no longer to have condescension and generosity towards America, when she is weak, they would warrant suppositions much more fatal to their honor than is the grave error (yet easily reparable with the good will of both parties) just committed by Captain Wilkes.
I have the right to hold this language to them, for I am of the number of those who lore England and have proved it. In my first parliamentary speech, which was on occasion of this very right of search, I exposed myself to much animosity in defending her. Later, in the Pritchard affair, I did not draw back. Even from the depths of my retreat, it has rarely happened to me to take up my pen without rendering homage to a country and government which are not popular among us. I have reason, therefore, to hope that my words will have some weight. Nothing is more antipathetic to me than a coarse and ignorant anglophobia.