ims once more to have a national
existence. It declines further serfdom to an ecclesiastical court.
It claims liberty of conscience, of action, and of thought. Should it
fall from its present position, it will not be from, internal dissent,
but from foreign oppression.

Since this is the case, surely our country, if no other, is bound to
recognize the present government _so long as it can sustain itself_.
This position is that to which we have a right: being such, it is no
matter how it is viewed by others. But I dare assert it is the only
respectable one for our country, in the eyes of the Emperor of Russia
himself.

The first, best occasion is past, when Mr. Cass might, had he been
empowered to act as Mr. Rush did in France, have morally strengthened
the staggering republic, which would have found sympathy where alone
it is of permanent value, on the basis of principle. Had it been in
vain, what then? America would have acted honorably; as to our being
compromised thereby with the Papal government, that fear is idle. Pope
and Cardinals have great hopes from America; the giant influence there
is kept up with the greatest care; the number of Catholic writers
in the United States, too, carefully counted. Had our republican
government acknowledged this republican government, the Papal
Camarilla would have respected us more, but not loved us less; for
have we not the loaves and fishes to give, as well as the precious
souls to be saved? Ah! here, indeed, America might go straightforward
with all needful impunity. Bishop Hughes himself need not be
anxious. That first, best occasion has passed, and the unrecognized,
unrecognizing Envoy has given offence, and not comfort, by a presence
that seemed constantly to say, I do not think you can sustain
yourselves. It has wounded both the heart and the pride of Rome. Some
of the lowest people have asked me, "Is it not true that your country
had a war to become free?" "Yes." "Then why do they not feel for us?"

Yet even now it is not too late. If America would only hail
triumphant, though she could not sustain injured Rome, that would
be something. "Can you suppose Rome will triumph," you say, "without
money, and against so potent a league of foes?" I am not sure, but
I hope, for I believe something in the heart of a people when fairly
awakened. I have also a lurking confidence in what our fathers spoke
of so constantly, a providential order of things, by which brute force
and sel