It is very evident to our minds, that Lord Russell begins already to suspect that he has carried the game of neutrality a little too far, and that he has discovered when too late, that the
English factories are about to be deprived not only of the present crop of cotton, but of that for the next year.
He never believed that it would some to that.
He trusted to
Seward's premise that he would conquer the country are upon the parts.
Seward knew then, as well as he does now, that the capture of every cotton part in the
Confederacy would not enable him to comply with his promise.
He knew that he not only would not find any cotton in them, but they none would some as long as they remained in his possession.
He knew that not only the present crop would be destroyed, but that none would be planted for the next year.--He thus completely duped the
Secretary of Foreign Affairs, whom we take to be the smallest specimen of a Minister extant, and led him forward of a to the brink of a gulf, down which if he can look without feeling his head swim, he has firmer nerves than we give him credit for. He cannot now break the blockade, If he would.
The
Yankees have the start of him. Their iron gunboats are superior to his wooden craft.
It would take him a year if they of still, to catch up with him, and it seems certain that they do not mean to stand still.
The fact is beyond dispute.
England has lost the supremacy of the seas, and, for the time, the
Yankees have it. Lord Russell has fairly
muddled away the
English superiority.
Had he opened the ports ten months ago, the war would have been at an end. There would have been no Merrimac exploits and no Yankee fleet of gunboats.
We are by no means surprised at the overreaching of so small a man as
Russell by so artful a man as
Seward.
But that he should ever have been able to impose upon so able a man as the
Emperor of the
French, is truly astonishing.
That potentate is, however, in the same boat with the
English Foreign Secretary, and he must share the same fate.
He cannot now break the blockade, if he should desire it, and he can get no cotton until the blockade is broken.
The result of the
Merrimac's exploits has been to open the eyes of both
France and
England, when it is already too late to profit by the light.
What must happen, in both
France and
England, thus deprived of two consecutive crops of cotton, without any reserve to fall back upon?
For a year, it may do very well to support the millions thrown out of employment at the public expense; but this cannot last always.
When the public bounty fails, what is to become of the operatives?
It was said — before the experiment had been made — that the failure of a single crop in the
South would occasion a revolution in
England, and here are two crops absolutely lost to her manufactories.
If a convulsion in both countries should ensue, who would be to blame but their rulers?
Let not our people put any faith in the assistance of
France and
England.
Their rulers have contrived to involve them in such a curious dilemma that they cannot help it they would.
We must fight out the battle by ourselves, and we
will fight it out. The loss of our sea port towns — of all our towns — is not derisive of the question.
We still have vast bodies of men in the field, which need but concentration to become irresistible.
Our foes have a vast extent of fertile country, which these armies can invade when their won is no longer capable of supporting them
