The whole movement of our Government from the establishment of our independence has been guided by a sacred regard for peace. Situated as we are in the new hemisphere, distant from Europe and unconnected with its affairs, blessed with the happiest Government on earth, and having no objects of ambition to gratify, the United States have steadily cultivated the relations of amity with every power; and if in any European wars a respect for our rights might be relied on, it was undoubtedly in those to which I have adverted. The conflict being vital, the force being nearly equally balanced, and the result uncertain, each party had the strongest motives of interest to cultivate our good will, lest we might be thrown into the opposite scale. Powerful as this consideration usually is, it was nevertheless utterly disregarded in almost every stage of and by every party to those wars. To these encroachments and injuries our regard for peace was finally forced to yield. In the war to which at length we became a party our whole coast from St. Croix to the Mississippi was either invaded or menaced with invasion, and in many parts with a strong imposing force both land and naval. In those parts where the population was most dense the pressure was comparatively light, but there was scarcely an harbor or city on any of our great inlets which could be considered secure. New York and Philadelphia were eminently exposed, the then existing works not being sufficient for their protection. The same remark is applicable in a certain extent to the cities eastward of the former, and as to the condition of the whole country southward of the latter the events which mark the war are too recent to require detail. Our armies and Navy signalized themselves in every quarter where they had occasion to meet their gallant foe, and the militia voluntarily flew to their aid with a patriotism and fought with a bravery which exalted the reputation of their Government and country and which did them the highest honor. In whatever direction the enemy chose to move with their squadrons and to land their troops our fortifications, where any existed, presented but little obstacle to them. They passed those works without difficulty. Their squadrons, in fact, annoyed our whole coast, not of the sea only, but every bay and great river throughout its whole extent. In entering those inlets and sailing up them with a small force the effect was disastrous, since it never failed to draw out the whole population on each side and to keep it in the field while the squadron remained there. The expense attending this species of defense, with the exposure of the inhabitants and the waste of property, may readily be conceived.