The Anglo-Saxon Century and the Unification of the English-Speaking People

by John R. Dos Passos

INTRODUCTION

IN this book I advocate the union of all the English-speaking peoples by steps natural and effective. Believing that the only real obstacle to a complete and sympathetic entente between the Anglo-Saxon peoples may arise from the situation of Canada, I urge her voluntary incorporation with the American Republic. Upon broad principles, this incorporation ought not to be difficult, seeing that the Federal idea, which has been so happily developed in the existing Canadian institutions, corresponds, in a large degree, with our own. As an offset, as well as to soften, if not wholly eradicate, any sentiment adverse to the surrender of a separate national existence, I propose the establishment of a common, interchangeable, citizenship between all English-speaking Nations and Colonies by the abrogation of the naturalisation laws of the United States and the British Empire, so that the citizens of each can, at will, upon landing in the other's territory, become citizens of any of the countries dominated by these Governments.

The proposition of the free admission of English {x} and Americans to citizenship in the respective Governments of the United States and the British Empire, without a previous quarantine, is neither visionary nor impracticable; on the contrary, as I show in Chapter VII, it is in entire harmony with the spirit and purpose of the naturalisation laws, and it is, moreover, sanctioned by the authority of history and of several distinguished modern names.

To make the union permanent and indissoluble, I would introduce free trade between the United States and the British Empire, the same as exists between the several States of our Republic; and to this I would add the adoption of the same standard of money and of weights and measures. To render armed conflict impossible in the event of any differences arising between us, I would establish an Arbitration Court, with full jurisdiction to determine finally all disputes which may hereafter arise.

By these means a real and permanent consolidation of the Anglo-Saxon peoples will be accomplished, without the destruction or impairment in the least degree of the political autonomy of the individual governments of the United States or of the British Empire, and without departing from any maxims of the international policy of either.

I do not advocate, but deprecate, in common with those who have given the subject serious study, a defensive and offensive alliance, as this term is now used.

The events revealed in the history of the Anglo-Saxon peoples, and the conclusions logically deducible {xi} therefrom, amply justify the unification of the whole English-speaking family as a wise and necessary step in their destiny and progress.

I hereafter endeavour to show that such an alliance is natural; that, growing out of our mutual interests, it is necessary; and that a true analysis of our duty to ourselves and our relations to the outside world impresses it upon us as a sacred mission.

Upon these foundations I have built the structure of an enduring Anglo-Saxon league. If I am wrong in the premises, the international mansion which I have endeavoured to construct must fall to the ground. If, on the other hand, I am correct, then the two powerful motives which underlie all individual and national action are present, for sentiment and selfishness alike demand its consummation.

The general subject of an alliance of some kind has already been largely discussed in both countries, but it has taken no tangible shape beyond the formation of a few societies whose end has been to develop closer relations between the two peoples, and whose success has been, alas! most indifferent.

The opening of the twentieth century reveals two great conditions which must deeply and powerfully affect the acts of individuals and nations, and compress events, which ordinarily would take ages to mature, into a few years. First, there are no more worlds to discover, and territorial absorption by purchase or force of arms is the sole means by which the most powerful nations can add to their {xii} possessions. Diplomatic eyes now look inward and not outward. Second, all nations have become near neighbours to each other; and the achievements of science, conquering space and time, enable the newspapers, among other things, to present each morning a full picture of the doings of the whole world on the preceding day. The important acts of a nation's life are laid bare daily, and the profoundest secret of state can no longer be withheld from the lynx-eyed newsgatherer. The motives, ambitions, and actions, of the nations are thus constantly revealed to all who wish to read them in the journals, for the price of a few pennies. Marvellous! Most marvellous!

"High placed are we, the times are dangerous,
Grave things and fateful hang upon the least
In nice conjunctures."[1]

Obeying the course of general progress, political and diplomatic events in this age must "therefore, take root and ripen quickly. Each nation is armed to the teeth, or is ready so to arm, and the expenditure of money for soldiers and sailors and the equipment for war will not stop on this side of national solvency and extermination. A complete justification of Anglo-Saxon aggregation grows out of the fact that it can arrest and destroy this dreadful modern tendency. But even if angels advocated it, a step of such profound importance would necessarily be preceded by much private and public argument, in which the outside world would largely {xiii} participate, and from whom, perhaps, much opposition might arise; yet it may mature, forsooth, over night.

The suggestion of an Anglo-Saxon union will be looked upon with disfavour by foreign nations, and the narrow view will be urged, that by means of it, disproportioned power will be lodged in our hands to their detriment. There is no weight, however, in the objection: power lodged in the proper hands hurts no one. Mistakes there may be here and there, but the course of this great race cannot be retarded. It must go on. It must move forward in the mission to spread Christianity and civilisation everywhere, and to open up the undeveloped part of the world to the expanding demands of commerce, and of all that commerce, liberally conducted, implies.

Let us take up together the work so magnificently performed by the United States and by England down to the commencement of this century. Once for all let prejudices be cast aside. Let us unite in a great English-speaking family. Let us be content to learn from each other. And when the curtain of the twenty-first century is raised, may the successful anglicisation of the world be revealed; may the real spirit of our institutions and laws prevail everywhere, and the English language have become the universal dialect of mankind.

In the view I have given of English history, manners, and institutions, and their relation to our own, I am aware that I do not go beyond the merest sketch. I should, perhaps, have paused {xiv} longer on that part of the subject,—it would have been pleasant to do so,—but as it is practically inexhaustible, it would have changed the character of the work and have swelled it to undue proportions. I have said enough, I think, to point out the path to every intelligent reader likely to be interested in this question, and who has not heretofore made it a study. Once accepted as a subject of interest, every kind of reading, even to the most light and desultory which our copious literature affords, may be made to cast an illumination upon it. Thus, while mentioning the great leading facts of English Constitutional development—those more obvious stepping-stones upon which the race ascended in that difficult path—I have found it impossible to detail all the influences, whether of ancient or recent growth, which accompanied or produced the respective movements. The least obtrusive causes are not infrequently the most potent as well as the most interesting. I firmly believe that the ultimate ascertainable causes in all such cases will be found in the character of the people, however that character may have been generated.

I wish to acknowledge publicly, and return my thanks for, the substantial aid which I have received in the preparation of this book from my dear and life-long friend, Theodore McFadden, Esq., of the Philadelphia Bar, the author of a most exquisite and classic drama, Madalena; or The Maids' Mischief, and many effective essays and articles. I have discussed every part of this work {xv} with him, and in the course of its preparation, he has made many valuable suggestions, some of which I have incorporated herein in his exact language. While we are in earnest agreement as to the main purpose of the book, namely, the removal of prejudices and the approximation of the two peoples for all great and beneficial objects, including their mutual defence, our views are not always in accord as to the methods of giving effect to that purpose. To differ with one of the ripest scholars, one of the most profound and liberal thinkers and eloquent writers of the day, even upon a trivial point, is a matter of sincere regret, but convictions upon the subjects discussed herein, at first light and eradicable, have, by reflection and study, become strengthened and deepened, and I shrink not from the responsibility and duty of giving them full light.

May they bear ripe and wholesome fruit!

J. R. D. P.

NEW YORK, April, 1903.

[1] Madalena; or The Maids' Mischief, by Theodore McFadden.

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THE ANGLO-SAXON CENTURY

CHAPTER I

TWO EVENTS WHICH MARK THE CLOSE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

WHEN the sun disappeared on the last day of the Nineteenth Century, it left in the horizon vivid pictures of two unexpected and incomplete events, whose influences will penetrate far into the realm of future history and throw light upon the great records which will be made in this new century. In one picture, the United States of America was seen fighting in the Philippines for the possession of a land which she claimed by the double title of conquest and purchase. In the other, the British Empire was battling with the Boers; sending her armies over the seas into Africa, to answer the defiant and goading challenge of that people.

Strange and unexpected history! The two powers the least prepared for or anticipating war were forced into battle; while Germany, France, {2} Austria, and Italy, armed to the teeth, momentarily expecting strife, became spectators instead of actors. We must prepare always for the unexpected.

Neither the acquisition by the United States of new territories, conquered or purchased, from a weaker power, nor the subjugation of the Boers by England and the enforcement of absolute sovereignty upon their republics, are, per se, events of supreme importance to the outside world.

The continental powers view with comparative complacency the relinquishment of the sovereignty of Spain over the Philippines, Cuba, and Puerto Rico; and while the subjugation of the Boers, and the metamorphosis of their republics into colonies of the British Empire, awakens keener interest and criticism, these acts will, nevertheless, pass unchallenged, and eventually be acquiesced in.

But the deep significance of these two historical incidents is, that they have brought the English-American peoples into such striking prominence that their present and future relations to each other, and the aim and scope of their ambition, separately or combined, must become an absorbing topic of international thought and discussion.

A union of all the English-speaking peoples has become a probability; and while the question, in the ordinary course of events, must pass through the crucible of debate, tinctured and embittered by prejudice, ignorance, and jealousy, a sudden upheaval or unexpected revolution in international affairs might cause its solution in a day. On the other hand, it may drag along through years, the {3} sport of every whirlwind of domestic and foreign politics.

The Anglo-Saxon people should only be concerned with the right and wrong of the subject—absolutely fearless of the results to which an inquiry based upon sound premises may lead. It is now manifest that to this great race is entrusted the civilisation and christianisation of the world.

Whether they will perform the duties of this sacred trust is the problem of the Twentieth Century.

I shall proceed to state the grounds for this opinion, and to unfold the reasons which should influence this great people to act as one.

I.—BY THE SPANISH WAR, THE RELATIONS OF THE UNITED STATES TO EUROPE AND THE EAST WERE SUDDENLY TRANSFORMED

This war reveals the United States in many aspects as the leading power of the world. While her wonderful development, progress, and marvellous wealth were freely talked about and ungrudgingly acknowledged, she has, by this last war, leaped, per saltum, into a position among nations which will force her, nolens volens, to assume all the burdens and responsibilities which her new rank demands. If we look the actual situation in the face, it is impossible to escape the consequences of this dénouement. The United States has suddenly become a natural and necessary party to all great international questions; and this fact, with her increasing commercial and financial power, demands {4} that she should be ready to second the interests of her people, who are now spreading out in all directions in search of greater wealth and wider business relations. The oceans which separate the United States from Europe and the East were once supposed to be perpetual barriers to her active participation in international questions. It was assumed that she had quite enough to do, then and for all time to come, to attend to the development of her own vast and continuous country.

The victory of Dewey at Manila, however, combined with the mighty change which has been wrought in human affairs by science, electricity, and steam, struck the scales from the eyes of the world, and, presto! she has leaped into the arena of history as the most important factor of the new century. Can this situation be made other than it is by the shibboleth of party platforms, or individual opinion? Can her progress be stayed? With as much reason we may command the flowers and the trees not to grow—bid nature stand still, and her laws not operate!

She did not seek the rank of an international power; it was evolved out of a confluence of natural conditions. She can no more cast it off than can our bodies the food of which we have partaken after it has entered into our organisms. If history teaches any lesson, it is that nations, like individuals, follow the law of their being; that in their growth and in their decline they are creatures of conditions, in which even their own volition plays but a part, and that often the smallest part.

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II.—THE EFFECT OF THE WAR IN AFRICA UPON THE RELATIONS AND POWER OF ENGLAND

It has been boastingly said by her enemies, and reluctantly acknowledged by some of her friends, that England has entered upon her decline, and that a decay has set in which will destroy her power and prestige. There is nothing more absurd than this assertion. The same statements were circulated in reference to her at various periods of her past history—notably at the close of the Revolutionary War. Look into her history at that time; consult the contemporaneous writers, and we shall find them replete with gloomy and direful predictions. And yet how she gathered herself together; and in a few years how resplendent she was in military and civic glory! Her political edifice cannot be destroyed so long as reason holds its sway, because it is built upon the solid foundations of true civil liberty, which it is the aim of all people to establish and conserve. Show me anyone, not actuated by pure bigotry, who would deliberately and maliciously wish to demolish such a government!

When men band themselves together in a revolutionary purpose, it is to destroy tyranny and oppression. They do not begin revolutions with edicts against liberty and free government.

England will decline, if ever she declines, when men assail order and law, and seek to erect in their stead, as a basis of government, chaos and confusion. Her literature can never be destroyed; it will enlighten the world long after her government {6} ceases to be. It will be the basis of a new civilisation long, long after her people cease to act together. I will not weary the reader with statistics of her material growth. They show no real, permanent decline; but they do reveal that she has fierce commercial competitors in the United States and Germany. They show that she must arouse herself to a real struggle to support her people. But no matter how this war for commercial supremacy may end, we must remember that the real greatness of a nation, or people, does not wholly consist in mere material wealth. We of North America are overlooking this important fact in our sudden and marvellous development. We are to-day, and not without some truth, called a purely "dollar nation." Our people are struggling for money, as if that were the only desideratum of life. We forget that religion, in its broad sense, liberty, justice, equality, and virtue are more important than money; they are the chains of steel which bind a free people together; mere wealth without these qualities has no preserving power: and if we lose our institutions, in their form or in their spirit, of what use will money be to us, or how will it be protected? The acquisition of wealth is legitimate, but it must not be the sole aim of the people, else they will forget their duties as citizens; and should that time come, and chaos and revolution ensue, of what use will material advantages be, even if they should survive the loss of freedom?

Remember that a government based upon gold, {7} wealth, sordidness, must end unhappily. We must have other and higher ideals for our people.

Do not misunderstand me; I do not decry individual, and, in certain degrees, aggregate wealth. Let our citizens accumulate money "beyond the dreams of avarice." Through the natural channels open for its circulation, it will gradually flow back to the community. And overlook not the difference between real and fictitious values. Men often create paper values, which disappear like snow before the summer sun when the operations of true economic principles attack them. So long as individual or combined wealth adheres to its legitimate functions, a State is safe. When, however, it is used to corrupt or influence the judiciary; when it seeks to interfere with, or affect legislation; when it subsidises or controls the press; when it severs instead of combines society; in fine, when it is used as a substitute for character, the people must beware; they must quickly intervene and crush it; for the pillars of all free government will then be attacked, and they will experience an oligarchy of wealth—the worst of all oligarchies and the most destructive of individual liberty.

One word more on the subject of England's alleged material decline. In less than one year she transported in her own ships two hundred and fifty thousand soldiers to South Africa, without the loss of a single life.

No other two existing nations could have accomplished the same task; and, allowing for all drawbacks {8} and mishaps, when the history of that war comes to be written, it will be found that, under all the circumstances, it will not be the least of ancient or modern achievements. And yet with what characteristic absence of self-glorification it has been done!

In the last century, and under the glorious reign just closed, she has been perfecting more and more her constitutional system; the various classes composing her society have been thoroughly interfused; political power has been extended to the masses, education has been disseminated, benevolent enterprise has gone hand in hand with the acquisition of wealth to an unparalleled degree. These are to be set off against any possible decline in her trade. It is hard to see how even that decline can be permanent or anything more than accidental while she retains her other possessions, and along with them the virile qualities which called them into existence.

She commences the twentieth century with undiminished glory and the prospect of increasing influence.

III.-THE PRESENT DIPLOMATIC AND POLITICAL MAP OF THE WORLD

In a little less than four years, the entire relations of the nations of the world to each other have changed. Old maps have become obsolete and valueless. The plans of diplomacy have been upset. All international combinations have been {9} frustrated, and the nice calculations and adjustments of European statesmen are, by the unexpected results of the two, in some of their aspects, insignificant wars, thrown into confusion and perplexity, if not for ever destroyed. The diplomatic slate has been sponged clean, and new alliances and international copartnerships must be written on it.

Does it not seem plain, therefore, in the shifting of places and combinations, that the British Empire and the United States are to be the chief factors in the new historical scenes of the twentieth century?

The world is now, in a practical sense, owned or controlled by five nations: the British Empire, the United States of America, Russia, Germany, and France. China, preliminary to an eventual division of her territories, has become a ward of the preceding powers, and unless, perchance by some miracle, she steals the thunder of modern Jove, and arms her hordes with fashionable artillery and ammunition,—a most unlikely prospect, except in accord with and under the tutelage of Russia,—she can no longer be numbered as a factor in international affairs. Japan, Austria, Hungary, Turkey, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Switzerland, Belgium, Holland, Norway and Sweden, and the other small sovereignties of the world are mere satellites, revolving around these great political planets, and in due course of time destined to be attached to one or the other of them, or at least so close in sympathy with their principles {10} as to render concert of action between them inevitable.

IV.—RUSSIA, CHINA, FRANCE—THEIR RELATIONS TO EACH OTHER AND TO THE WORLD

The Russian and Spanish races will furnish two absorbing problems of this century to Europe and the United States.

Let us take up the Russian question first.

There are to-day three great rivals in the commercial world,—the United States, England and Germany. We might add France in some branches of trade, and Japan in others. The commercial ambition of the United States will be, and that of England and Germany is, world-wide. What the natural rivalry between these powers will result in I need not undertake to predict. The laws of trade, however, are unerring, and the cheapest and best seller will eventually secure the customer. As the manufactories of England, Germany, and France close their doors before the keen business genius and competition of the Yankees, immigration to the United States will increase: a hegira of foreign labourers and mechanics will set in, which will greatly thin out, if not depopulate, the old countries of Europe of their best manufacturing ability. This result is inevitable under any conditions; but it must be regarded as separate and apart from the considerations to which allusion is hereafter made. The relations of Russia to this commercial question and to the general status of European affairs, are unique and of the deepest importance. Russia to-day is {11} in the process of governmental and national development. She is not yet, in any complete sense, an integral, sympathetic, national whole, as are the United States, England, and Germany. Her government is still experimental. She is not yet a firm, stable, political unity, but is working with tremendous activity to build up and operate a plan of internal policy. At the same time she is developing a broad, well defined, ambitious, but not unnatural external career. She is now, as ever, grasping for contiguous territories. The one policy is largely dependent for success upon the other. If she overcomes the fires of revolution that burn within her people; if she can, in spite of the diffusion of education and the principles of liberty, maintain the particular species of arbitrary government which now exists; if she succeeds in continuing a despotism, and can present an unbroken front to the civilised powers of the world, maintaining peace and order within, while she asserts and sustains her policy without,—in that event the external policy of Russia may become the second, if not the first, great and absorbing question of the century. If Russia does not succeed with her people; if discontent and revolution ensue; if the present dynasty is overthrown; if a new and different, government is installed in that country, or it is split up into different governments, her power as an international factor will naturally be so weakened and reduced that she may be compelled to agree to any territorial partition or adjustment which may be eventually fixed upon by the other powers, {12} if they act together. In shaping their commercial policies, however, it will not be prudent for the United States, England, Germany, and France to rely upon the weakness of Russia's internal government, although its overthrow is an event by no means unlikely, engaged as she is in building and sustaining a political fabric contrary to modern tendencies and modern thought, and inimical to those nations which possess them. But the powers mentioned above must assume that her internal policy will succeed, and the probabilities of such success, at least for some years to come, make it important for them to act conjointly and promptly in matters pertaining to China, South-eastern Europe and Asia. No matter how they may diverge in other questions, upon the subject of China their true interests demand joint action. Under no circumstances, at least for many years, will Russia be a general commercial rival to these four powers. She has no ambition, for instance, in the direction of Africa, now covered by England, Germany, and France; nor has she any present intention of exploiting the fields of South America or Mexico. The sphere of her external policy embraces South-eastern Europe, Asia, and China, and in these fields she has always met and been checked by Great Britain. It is an absolute, indisputable fact of history, that but for the predominating influence and power of England, Russia would to-day be the complete master of China, Turkey, Persia, and other parts of Asia—in fact, of all Asia. England, alone, might still continue to check Russia's {13} designs on these countries, but in so doing she would be acting not only for Germany, but for the United States, hence the Eastern policy of England must be radically changed, or she must act co-operatively with the United States, France, and Germany, or with one or two of these powers. She cannot for ever continue in the unavowed invidious role of defender of Europe against this gigantic, ever-advancing, all-absorbing antagonist. But eternal gratitude is due to her from the United States and the other powers of Europe for what she has already done in this direction.

Unless some general check, such as is suggested in these pages, be applied, the dream of Peter the Great would seem to be in a fair way of fulfilment. That dream was, first, the acquisition of all Asia; second, the conquest of all Europe—the latter by the instrumentality of its own dissensions, and the playing off of the rival interests, as Austria against France, afterwards France against Germany—a state of things which has an approach to realisation at the present moment. The royal dreamer did not embrace America within the scope of his vision,—a very important and ever-growing factor in the general problem, whether for good or evil.[1]

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In the new diplomatic advent, the United States, Germany, England, and Russia, and, perhaps, France, must be the principal factors. What shall their policy be? Undoubtedly England, the United States, and Germany would never consent to allow Russia to carry out her present ambition to become the owner of China and the other Eastern possessions, which every one knows she covets, and covets quite naturally, because her contiguity to these territories makes it of vital importance for her to obtain a predominating control there, when they pass from the weak hands in which they now rest. Moreover, the strong, despotic government {15} of Russia is suited to Chinese education and intelligence, perhaps much more so than that which any European power could establish there. But behold the proportions and strength of the Russian Empire with China and the Chinese under her control! Does any European power look with equanimity upon such a picture? Naturally, Russia will hesitate long before she will consent to relinquish her cherished dream of eventually controlling these possessions.

It has been manifest for years that China could not take care of herself, and what little diplomacy {16} exists in modern times has been exercised in guarding the present and future integrity of that country from the grasp of rival foreign powers. Until the late war (if the anomalous events which recently transpired in China can be correctly called a war) these diplomatic questions had really involved only England and Russia. At present, the situation is as follows: China and the East must be opened to meet the increasing commercial growth of the United States, England, Germany, and France. There are not enough customers to go round; the domain of commercial activity is too narrow; competition is becoming so close and hot, especially {17} when the United States invades those grounds heretofore exclusively occupied by England, Germany, and France, that new territories must be found, and fresh fields of trade exposed. The doors of China must be thrown wide open to the manufacturers of all these countries, on terms of equality. The policy of Russia is to delay the consummation of this event. She may at some future time be in a situation where she can occupy the disputed field against all comers. She is near the ground, and is becoming more powerful every day, in proportion as her internal policy is fixed, and her laws, religion, and government are made satisfactory to her subjects.

If all these things turn out favourably for Russia, and she can secure the co-operation of China, it is not unlikely or improbable that she will one day say to the other powers, "Hands off!" and be prepared to enforce her words.

Under these circumstances, it is the unquestionable policy of England, the United States, Germany, and France, at least so far as China is concerned, to have their relations with Russia settled at once. If Russia can maintain the status quo until events are ripe for her to act aggressively, it is her plain policy to do so. On the other hand, England, the United States, France, and Germany can gain nothing by the delay, but everything by quick, present, concerted action. The division of China once made, Russian ambition and diplomacy are for ever checked. Of course there is the Franco-Russian alliance. I pay no attention to it. It is a {18} farce—a diplomatic paradox; so suicidal to France's real interest that it is liable to drop to pieces at any change in the French Ministry.

Another phase of the subject, i.e., the internal condition of
China.

In the aspect in which I am considering the subject, I do not think I am wrong in saying that China bears the same relation to the civilised world as the continent of America did to Europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. There are, of course, great differences—China has more people—she has a more developed internal trade, her citizens have more intelligence and certain inventive and business qualities, and there are other very material features too obvious to mention, which distinguish the Chinese from the American aborigines, but in the sense in which I am speaking, the comparison is correct. China has made no distinct advance for centuries, in a civilising direction, in the sciences and arts, in commercial and manufacturing pursuits, to say nothing of political, religious, and moral improvements, schools and eleemosynary establishments. She has stood dead-still, if she has not actually taken a step backward. As a nation, China is oblivious to anything progressive. In fact, so low is she in the scale of modern civilisation, that the United States, whose commendable policy has been to invite immigrants to her shores, has deliberately shut her doors to China, and has unceremoniously refused to receive the latter's subjects either as citizens or as travellers. In ordinary circumstances, the estimation {19} of independent thinkers, this policy of exclusion would be intolerable, but its justification has been sustained upon the ground that the Chinese are not regarded as fit associates for American citizens, and no persons are wanted in this country who do not meet this requirement. In a word, China is out of harmony in her relations to the civilised powers. With but few exceptions her policy has been to close her doors to the outside world, to shut herself up in a shell upon the approach of strangers. China, in respect to modern development, must be opened by the corkscrew of progress. She does not respond with effervescence to the approaches of civilisation. The massacre of an ambassador of a great power, the altogether unjustifiable slaughter of helpless missionaries, invited and induced to reside there by treaty, and the turbulent confusion which reigns inside of her borders, form complete evidence of the utter incapacity of the nation for respectable, stable government. She is old, childish, helpless, and if her territories are to be opened and developed, if her people are to be educated, enlightened and made prosperous, it must be by the strong hands of the civilised powers. Of course, touching and effective arguments may be made against the right of nations forcibly and bodily to take possession of Chinese soil, and intelligent and cultivated Chinese statesmen and gifted scholars like Wu Ting-Fang, the late Chinese Ambassador to the United States, may make pathetic appeals against such a movement, based upon the superior moral and legal right of the {20} Chinese to their own soil and government. But we must look the question fairly in the face, undisturbed and unaffected by arguments which, ordinarily, would have preponderating weight. The Indians who occupied the soil of North America, the Britons who occupied the soil of England, had the same arguments. Nothing is finer than the pictured eloquence of the Indian chiefs as they spiritedly protested against the invasion of their soil and the dispersion and extinguishment of their tribal governments. But before the march of progress and the underlying necessities of civilisation, these cries of sentiment and sympathy will not long be heard. The invincible spirit of progress must go on. Like quicksilver, it will noiselessly run into every portion of the globe where voids created by political weakness and barbarism exist. Sympathy cannot be allowed for ever to block human advancement. In the contest between the higher and the lower order of things, it is impossible to adjust the details to our liking. There is always an intermediate period of partial injustice and confusion before the solution is reached. China can prove no exception to this view. Railroads will eventually appear in the highways of China in place of the ancient and worn-out methods of transportation which now prevail; manufacturing and mining pursuits will be established, her fields will be opened, cultivated, and enriched by modern methods and implements of agriculture. It will be in vain for the Chinese to undertake to support their religion and methods of thought and life by appeals {21} to Confucius and other teachers. These must give way under the influence of modern progress. Why? Because they have produced no fruit. A tree that bears nothing is valueless. China's ethics, laws, religion, and philosophy are barren. Primitively and simply beautiful they may be, but they are without practical value except as historical monuments marking the advance of nations. Her present condition attests the value of her institutions: "By their fruits ye shall know them."

In face of all these facts, it is hard to realise that the allied powers should precipitately have left China. Yet the reason is plain. England and the United States each had a war upon its hands. The Chinese difficulty happened at a most inopportune time, and when the United States inaugurated and persisted in a movement of abandonment of China, England was reluctantly forced to give up her convictions and to join in the retrograde march. Had England been entirely free to act, no doubt she would have forced a different settlement. The McKinley administration exhibited a natural weakness in its policy. It had to fight shy of the imperialistic cry, which had been dinned in its ears ad nauseam with respect to the Philippine possessions; it feared another broadside from opposition newspapers, which was imminent if it pursued a strong policy in China, and hence one was hit upon of apparent magnanimity towards the Chinese, but which was at once superficial, weak, and misleading, and withal the worst measure for China which could be imagined. The allied powers {22} entered China without a studied or concerted plan, and they left it without a clear solution or settlement of the questions involved. Their going in was as their coming out—hasty, ill-conceived, and impolitic. The commencement and the conclusion were both befogged. No sooner were the allied troops removed than internal dissensions appeared, and the weakness, wretchedness, and incompetence of the Chinese government was soon more plainly revealed than ever. By abandoning China, the United States played directly into the hands of Russia. England and Germany must have seen this, but they could not combat a plan of action which seemed on its face so magnanimous to a fallen people, especially with France co-operating with Russia.

The whole business must be gone over again. The weakness of China will soon be revealed in plots and revolutions all over the Empire; indignities will be again perpetrated upon foreigners, and armed intervention will follow.

I cannot leave this question without a separate word about France. The real position of France should be isolation—waiting, watching, improving. The figure which she presents to-day as an ally of Russia is false and unnatural. Let me speak of France with candour and without reserve. Her national progress is stopped, and an internal decay has set in, which will sooner or later seriously affect her influence as a first-class power. The reasons which impel me to reach this painful conclusion are the following: The effort to establish {23} a republican government in France, while not a failure, is far from being a success. No student who has conscientiously studied the history of the past one hundred years can truthfully say that she has made real progress in government. The attempt to sustain a republic in France has been almost grotesque. The great, central, pivotal point of any serious government is stability, which she has never even approached. Ministries are blown over like card houses, by the mere ebullition of political passion, and not as the result of a principle. The people are genuinely surprised if a ministry lasts six months. In the effort to establish a republic, two great fundamental mistakes—among others—are made. First, the French congress and government are held and administered in Paris, the very centre of boiling passions and the hotbed and school of every conflicting "ism" that arises to confound the good sense and prudence of mankind. The seat of government in a republic must be located away from the cosmopolitan influences of large cities. It must be held in a place where calmness—and quiet prevail, and where the officials of the government, and the legislators, are removed from the intimidating noises and the unhealthy influences of metropolitan journalism.

In the second place, the Cabinet should not participate in the proceedings of the legislative bodies.

A cabinet is chosen to aid the president. As the cabinet members are his family council they ought {24} to be in sympathy with his political views, and with his plans, as executive, and their tenure should be consistent with his pleasure. To place them in a position similar to the Ministry of England, in which nation the House of Commons represents the immediate sentiments of the English people; to take one important feature of a constitutional monarchy as it exists in England, and place it in the body of a republic like that created in France, is anomalous and incongruous; utterly out of sympathy and in discord with the real purposes of a republic.

In a republic, a cabinet represents the president, not the people. The noise, froth, and confusion which characterise every overthrow of a French ministry in the Chamber of Deputies is not the vox populi; the change is the result of coalitions, sentiment, or passion; it is a momentary variation in the temper of the legislators, often brought about by events so trivial that one is almost ashamed of legislative bodies. These topsy-turvy movements are not aimed at the executive, but are demonstrations against the cabinet, whose constant overthrow shows the instability of the administration and brings it into contempt. The frequent downfall of a cabinet weakens the confidence of the people in their government, although in fact it may be purely superficial.

I cannot pursue the subject in detail. I leave much unsaid that is important, but there are one or two more thoughts which press upon me with force, and which still further illustrate the above {25} views. France seems to be lacking the few great men who could turn her course into better roads of national policy and prosperity. She has no real leaders. Nor is the nation united in its sympathies with a republican government. That form has no great, genuine lovers in France. They love their country, but not the political mantle which envelops it. Her leading men doubt whether it is the best form for the government of her people, or whether she should not be a monarchy. Democracies thrive upon the love and enthusiasm of the people. If these feelings are not present among the masses, the government is not likely to be healthy. A fair proportion of Frenchmen are socialists. What this means in France, no one has intelligently defined or explained. So far as we can judge from a study of the mass of stuff presented, called argument, it means a general breaking up of society. Another class of Frenchmen favour a monarchy; but perhaps the largest class is composed of true republicans. These differences are vital and fundamental. They go to the form and substance of government, not to its policy, as in America, where every party cry, radical or conservative, is attuned to the music of a republican federation, and which is the sine qua non to all political conclusions. How can a nation progress until its people have chosen, or are competent to choose, a stable form of government, and are satisfied with certain organic political principles?

Nothing illustrates the vacillation of France and her utter want of stability more than her {26} alliance with Russia. The extent and nature of this alliance is now known to be of a comprehensive character—offensive and defensive. After France was released from the last obligation of the Prussian war by the payment of the money indemnity, it became the fixed, resolute, and unswerving purpose of her people to regain Alsace and Lorraine from the Germans. Her recuperative power was wonderful. In a few years she was in the full vigour of a new national life. The defeat which the nation had suffered rankled in the bosoms of her people, and for years they thought of nothing but revenge against Germany. The truth is that the result of the Franco-Prussian war casts no reflection upon the moral or physical courage of the French. The fault was that of Napoleon III: the nation was taken unawares, and before she was ready, Germany had her brave people by the throat. The victorious Germans took good care to strengthen their hold on territories wrested from France, by forming the Triple Alliance. In the meantime, the former provinces of France have become in a great measure Germanised. The longings of the people of Alsace and Lorraine to again become part of France grow weaker every day, as do the feelings of the French people to possess them. Separation and time are both acting to diminish the chances of their recovery. On the one side the inhabitants of the territories are becoming acclimated to their new national life; and on the other, the French people have become less intense in their original determination to recover {27} them. A new generation of people has grown up which did not participate in the original struggle, and which lack the enthusiasm of the original actors. Whether French diplomacy could have avoided or thwarted this result, or whether the situation has come from natural or uncontrollable conditions; upon either assumption, the cold, disagreeable fact stares the French people in the face, and they should look at the situation boldly and philosophically—the recovery of these provinces is now a remote possibility.

For years after the Prussian war, France was without an external policy. She knew not where to turn—to the right or left. She glanced with longing, scanning eyes over Europe, and could not select a friend, associate, or ally. She would make no overtures to her historic and falsely assumed national enemy—England; and Germany, Austria, and Italy were tightly closed against her. Russia presented the only open door to her, and after a long courtship she entered into a political matrimony with that great power. A union more unnatural, more lacking in harmony, more ill-advised, could not be imagined. It was a great step for Russia. She could use France admirably in the event of European trouble. French money, and a French army and navy, would make a powerful addition to her own military and naval resources. But what can France possibly gain from such an alliance? Has anyone sufficient ingenuity to plan a campaign by Russia against any power of Europe which would produce an eventual benefit to France? {28} Make up any combination you please and the result would be sure loss to France. Her true policy was to rest where she was—isolated and independent,—quietly abiding the time when the Triple Alliance would be dissolved, or other European complications might enable her to resume control over her lost territories, if ever that were possible. If not, her policy was peace—peace with the world. The alliance with Russia, in advance of conditions which actually demanded or justified it, in form at least, arraigns all Europe against her, and it does her no possible good. The alliance with Russia is meaningless and fruitless. If it has any effect, it is hurtful. The two nations are as far apart as the poles. Point out the incident and page of history where a similar union has been beneficial. It shows a decline in France's external policy, in her prudence and good judgment. It reflects the influences of a weak and declining internal condition. France has forgotten Bonaparte's solemn, almost pathetic appeal to his nation—"Make friends with England." The cultivation of an enmity for England is France's curse. There should be a complete revulsion of national feeling in favour of England—the centre and the source of civilisation. A true friendship with her could not fail to benefit France.

The overwhelming pride of the French, however, hides from them her real internal and external condition. Her only national policy should be peace with all the powers of the world. She should strive to become a purely commercial nation, {29} augmenting the attractions of French life to draw into her bosom the travellers and wealth of the world, and seek, by energy and skill, to retain undiminished her commercial strength against the powerful advances of the Americans.

France refuses to see or admit that since she has lost Alsace and Lorraine much of her national prestige has gone, and while still powerful in many ways, she is destined to second and support, not to lead. Doubtless her people dearly love their country, but they are indifferent to her institutions. They love La belle France, but have no sympathy with her political government. As their great writer, De Tocqueville, says in another connection, they worship the statue, but forget what it signifies. The French are brave and adventurous,—under the inspiration of a great military or naval hero, they will go to the extreme bounds of the earth in search of glory,—but they will not immigrate or travel to found new colonies or foreign homes. If a band of adventurous Frenchmen were to start to-morrow on such a voyage, would it be earnestly coupled with the desire to propagate the gospel of French republicanism? Half of the army and the navy do not believe in republicanism: They would be a sorry set of teachers to propagate the principles of democracy among the natives of a new country. Expansion and imperialism died with the great Napoleon. To-day France is substantially sustained and held together by a species of militarism. The great army moves like a machine to the wishes of each temporary administration. {30} It eats up the vitals of the people and compels them, at the same time, to enthusiastically support it. The moment France gives birth to a great soldier or sailor, he will capture the army and navy and change the form of government into a monarchy or despotism. Deep love or respect for existing administrations does not prevail. Instead of the civil authority of sheriffs, constables, bailiffs, and policemen, the military power is looked to as the real channel for enforcing the decrees of government. The entire conception and development of the army is contrary to true republican principles.

In conclusion, France linked with Russia means nothing for her. She might, with such an alliance, inflict serious damage on England or Germany separately; but it would avail her naught. She should speedily retire from the coalition. Remaining isolated and independent, she can uphold her present prestige, and through the mistakes of other nations she may add to her territorial area, providing she maintains a stable government.

The thoughts, wishes, and energies of her statesmen should be turned to the serious problem of making her people free, prosperous, and happy; as a beginning towards which, let them turn their attention to the eradication of the crying sin of France, the seed that is ripening for her destruction—that evil which Matthew Arnold calls "the worship of the goddess Aselgeia" otherwise "Lubricity."

A final word. Remember, ye Anglo-Saxons, {31} that despite her present condition, France is still, by reason of her large internal resources and enormous wealth, her trained army and modernly equipped navy, a great power in the world, and casting her sword into the scale of events with one or more nations, she can become an instrument of great good or evil. Friendship with her should be cultivated, and her people should be made to see that co-operation with you in your honourable efforts to help mankind is the true line of her policy.

V.—THE SPANISH AND PORTUGUESE PEOPLE

The Spanish-speaking peoples, including the Portuguese, to-day occupy or control 7,918,821 square miles of the territory of the world, exclusive of 1,197,672 square miles in Spanish-African islands, Portuguese Africa and Asia and the Philippines, which would make a total of 9,116,493 square miles.

Their language is spoken in Europe, North, South, and Central America, and in Cuba and Puerto Rico, by more than 80,000,000 of people, which, added to the number of occupants of Spanish African-islands, Portuguese Africa, Asia and the Philippines, would bring the total who speak the Spanish and Portuguese languages in excess of 97,000,000. The statistics are as follows:

{32}

Population Square Miles

Spain 17,550,216 196,173

Portugal 5,428,659 36,038

22,978.875 232,211

Mexico 13,570,545 767,316

Guatemala 1,574,340 46,774

Salvador 915,512 7,228

Honduras 420,000 42,658

Nicaragua 420,000 51,660

Costa Rica 309,683 19,985

17,210,080 935,621

Cuba 1,600,000 41,655

Puerto Rico 953,243 3,600

19,763,323 980,876

Colombia 4,600,000 331,420

Venezuela 2,444,816 566,159

Brazil 18,000,000 3,218,130

Paruguay 600,000 145,000

Uruguay 840,725 72,112

Argentine Republic 4,800,000 1,095,013

Chili 3,110,085 256,860

Bolivia 2,500,000 472,000

Peru 3,000,000 405,040

Equador 1,300,000 144,000

41,195,626 6,705,734

Spanish Africa 437,000 203,767

Spanish Islands 127,172 1,957

Portuguese Africa 5,416,000 841,025

Portuguese Asia 847,503 7,923

Philippines 6,961,339 143,000

13,789,014 1,197,672

{33}

RÉSUMÉ.

Population Square Miles

In Europe 22,978,875 232,211

In North America and

Central America 17,210,080 935,621

In Cuba and Puerto
Rico 2,553,243 45,255

In South America 41,195,626 6,705,734

83,937,824 7,918,821

In Spanish Africa and

Islands. Portuguese

Africa and Asia and

Philippines 13,789,014 1,197,672

97,726,838 9,116,493[2]

What is the destiny of this numerous race? What relation do its people hold to present and future international problems? What influence will it have in the solution of these questions? As long as the Spanish-speaking peoples remain scattered and without a common purpose in view, its numbers will avail little in the solution of the problems of this century. To be effective, the Spanish and Portuguese people must act together— as a whole.

Now, the striking feature of this race, to-day, is an absolute want of political unity. It has no common and ultimate aim; in fact, all its purposes seem to be discordant and inharmonious. In numbers, the Spanish and Portuguese people exceed the population of Germany and France combined, but their moral influence, in an international sense, is imperceptible. Anything like a real, determined {34} attempt to unite them has never been made. In a word, they are disintegrated, without unity of thought, action, or association.

I find it difficult, in discussing this subject, to separate my feelings from my judgment. Sentiment, and some national pride (for I am half Portuguese), struggle hard to impel me to paint a glowing and radiant picture of the future of this race; but the cold, hard facts of history confront me at every step, and it is idle to attempt to distort or juggle with them. If we are to judge the future by the present, the chances of the Spanish and Portuguese people participating in the control of the world are not the brightest. It seems but yesterday that Spain and Portugal owned the greater part of the earth, and were its dominating powers. By huge areas, their territory has vanished from their possession and control until to-day Portugal hardly attracts international attention, while Spain finds her dominion almost shrunken to the proportions of her European peninsular territory and plays a subordinate role in continental politics. I know of no sadder picture in modern history. Let any one turn for a moment to European literature of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, for the evidence of their preponderance. In all international affairs Spain in particular is everywhere seen as the first of powers. Her greatness, and the fear it created, seem to start from every page. I cannot pause to go into the causes of this or of the circumstances that favoured it; they are well known. What have we since seen? Her possessions, rights, {35} and powers have been wantonly squandered—simply thrown away, as a result of policies and acts which are utterly irreconcilable with rational principles of true government.[3]

It is impossible not to admire and sympathise with the individuals who comprise the Spanish and Portuguese people. They are noble, warm, generous, brave, and honourable. Like the Anglo-Saxons, they have been hardy rovers and adventurous colonists. The discovery and exploration of new and unknown fields have always been positive and prominent features of Spanish and Portuguese ambition; and yet, when they have acquired territories, they seem to have been utterly deficient in the capacity of holding and uniting them into a great and permanent empire. Individually, they possess all the qualities which excite admiration and respect; aggregately, they seem to lack those elements which so strongly typify the Anglo-Saxon people, whose glory and solidarity now completely overshadow them. God forbid that I should make this statement in a spirit of vainglory or boasting: I am merely recalling what is patent to all who read history, even blindly. A comparison of the two peoples shows that the dismemberment and decline of the Spanish has been in an inverse ratio to the progress of the Anglo-Saxons. As the one sank in the scale of national prosperity, the other correspondingly rose in strength and glory; and in candour it {36} must be added, the latter largely at the expense of the former.[4]

Although physically disunited and scattered, and with no definite, combined purpose of action, in numbers and individual character the Spaniards and Portuguese are still a great people. If they can be brought together they will be factors of the highest importance. Can they, at this stage of their history, cultivate a quality which they have hitherto lacked—cohesiveness?

The age of territorial discoveries seems almost finished. New fields, or new countries, are few. Everything that is to be found has been laid bare to the eyes of the world, and the telegraph gives us hourly pictures of the detailed life of the remotest nations of the earth. With the exception of the poles and the celestial bodies, the occupation of the explorer is almost gone, and the diplomatists and publicists now turn their eyes inward to a study of the possibilities of a division, or separation, of present territorial ownership. The method of acquiring title by occupancy can no longer be exercised, for want of new territory; and the other methods of acquisition—i.e., cession and conquest—now remain the sole means of geographical aggrandisement. With no new fields to explore, the scenes and events of history must be laid in old places, and the diplomatic or political issues will be directed to reapportioning, or redistributing, the old territories.

{37}

What part of this great international drama will be assigned to the Spanish and Portuguese people? Can they dominate; or will they be subordinate to one or more powers, and become absorbed in the national life of the latter? Can there be a unification of the Spanish and Portuguese people? Can they cure their present political imperfections? Can they make a thorough introspection of their condition, and follow the proper remedies which it suggests? Can they turn their faces towards the common goal of a free government? Is there a Moses among them, who can lead this great people from the wilderness of political, moral, and financial confusion into the broad plain of a free, enlightened, and modern government?

I shall not undertake categorically to answer any of these questions, but I shall briefly try to lay bare the general existing conditions of the Spanish countries, from which proper and fair deduction may be made. This study may enable us correctly to determine—first, whether the Spaniards can unite; and second, if united, whether they have the capacity to form a permanent, federation, in time to anticipate the march and progress of other nations, whose policy must be to absorb the weaker races in their own political bodies.

I begin with Spain proper. In almost all the essentials of a prosperous government, Spain is, at the present time, deficient. Her treasury is depleted, and financial aid from the outside world practically cut off, or obtainable only upon terms humiliating or prohibitive.

{38}

Her army and navy are disorganised. The sources of wealth and employment of the people are shrunken, and in some instances absolutely gone.

Worse than all the above grave difficulties, her people are disaffected with the government, thus giving countenance, on the one hand, to open revolt against it by the advocates of republicanism, and encouragement to the efforts and diplomacy of the Carlists, on the other. Apart from this view, a determined opposition to clericalism prevails, the success of which means actual separation of State and Church, so long and unhealthfully entwined in the operations and administration of the Spanish government.

It will require a clear judgment and a skilful hand to extricate the nation from all these entanglements. But I believe it can be done, and that a wise and firm ruler can guide Spain into a state of prosperity and internal peace, by the introduction of radical reforms in her administration—reforms which will demonstrate to her people that they are abreast with and enjoy the blessings of the freest form of modern government. Whether the boy-monarch who now governs Spain will be such a guide, I cannot predict. But I believe that that country can thrive better as a monarchy, conservatively administered, than as a republic. That the people have felt the impulse existing in all modern societies towards a government of laws combined with freedom, we are assured by recent observers. As is natural, much blindness and {39} indirection has hitherto attended their efforts, but the spirit of the people, though overlaid, survives, and along with it, a strong principle of fidelity and sense of duty, making the best material out of which to build institutions. These, with their noble and hitherto almost impregnable territory, securing them in large measure from foreign interference, constitute what may be called the capital of their natural resources, moral and national. Drawn within herself, self-depending, a new period of substantial greatness may yet arise. Her patriotic fervour has other aliment than the mere recollections of a never well-ascertained or well-founded empire. She can recall that her race has never been subjugated; that it defied for ages the power of the Romans and the Saracens, and that Napoleon at the height of his power failed utterly in the attempt.

If, however, owing to the weakness or inability of the present King to sustain a monarchy, a republic must be tried by the people; if one political experiment after another is to be added to those of the past before a stable and satisfactory government, of some kind, is inaugurated and established, the influence of Spain, during such formative periods, as a party to any consolidation or solidification of the Spanish people, will be dissipated and become merely formal. She can and will contribute nothing substantial to such a movement.

Moreover, if a monarchy is permanently continued in Spain and in Portugal, the hereditary tendency and disposition will be against a federation {40} of all the Spanish people, because federation eventually means republicanism; and it is not natural to believe that the families, in whose hands the monarchical titles are now lodged, can be convinced that the good of the whole Spanish and Portuguese people demands the relinquishment and abandonment of their kingly titles and possessions. Monarchs are sometimes forced to yield up their thrones, or are driven therefrom, by the people; but the spectacle of a king voluntarily surrendering his title for the benefit of his subjects is a rare one. Besides, the indications are that the Spanish people are at heart monarchical. France and her unsatisfactory example may, as a determining cause, have much to do with this tendency.

And in this instance the monarchs of Spain and Portugal can point with considerable force to South and Central America to show that the effort to establish republics among their branch of the Latin race has not been thus far satisfactory, or at least, successful.

But another party whose assent is essential to establish a federation of the whole Spanish people is the United States of America. What are her interests in the premises? What will she say to the formation of a government of this kind, in which two of the leading spirits would be European monarchies, i.e., Spain and Portugal? What application would be made of the "Monroe Doctrine" to such a condition? I conclude, therefore, that neither Spain nor Portugal would or could be an {41} influential factor in the consolidation of the people speaking their languages.

Can such a federation be established between the republics of South and Central America and Mexico? This would be a government which could start with a population of about 58,500,000 and 7,600,000 square miles of territory.

A common cause and a common necessity drove the thirteen original American States together. But no such force is operating upon the republics of Central, and South America; and they failed to utilise the opportunities presented to them in the past. They are all, more or less, suffering from internal dissensions, and the precariousness of their republican governments is not calculated to impress independent observers with their efficacy, strength, or permanency; yet these republics have no common enemy in Europe or in this country. In fact, from the former, if one existed, they would be protected by the well-settled policy of the United States. Is the United States likely, in any just sense, to become their enemy—an enemy, not of the people, but of the form and method of administering their government? Will not such a condition soon exist in some, or all, of these republics, as will justify and make intervention necessary, on the part of the United States, as was made in Cuba? Could such a possibility drive these republics into a federation, to anticipate what their leaders might term "a coming danger"?

Common jealousies and internal disorders will {42} for some time keep the South American republics from consolidation; but the people of the United States are coming closer and closer, each year, to all of these Spanish republics, and will sooner or later, unless avoided by delicate diplomacy, become actively interested in the affairs of their governments. At that time either one of two things will ensue: the formation of a Latin American federation; or gradual annexation to the United States. As a preliminary to either, or to any, event, would it not be wisdom in this country to tender these republics absolute freedom of commercial intercourse?

And how does Mexico stand? At present she occupies a peculiar and wholly anomalous position. Although in form a republic, Mexico is in fact a despotism. She is ruled by one man, whose authority is unlimited. President Diaz is the absolute and only power in the Mexican government. In theory he holds his title from the people, but his will is omnipotent. And withal, the thirteen millions of Mexicans who make up the population of the different states of the so-called Mexican republic are well governed: thus lending confirmation to the statement, often made, that a despotism, when the despot is a patriot and a wise and pure man, is the best form of government that can be established. As long as President Diaz lives, Mexico will probably continue to be well governed, because her ruler is competent in every sense—honest, capable, strong; and ambitious only to behold his country {43} develop and prosper. But when he dies, what will ensue? Not the regime of another patriotic despot. They do not come in succession, and they do not have political heirs. "God makes not two Rienzis." Diaz's death will reveal to the Mexican people—what they seem, notwithstanding their theories, never clearly to have appreciated—that they live under a republic which gives them the control of all political power. When this period arrives, how many Mexicans will be found capable of exercising the functions of citizenship intelligently and patriotically? Will not a majority of them be dupes or tools in the hands of designing political leaders? Who can assume to rule as Diaz? Whom do they know but Diaz? Is not the population of Mexico inferior, in general intelligence and in the duties of citizenship, to that of any other South American republic? What of the Mexican Indians? How far have they been instructed in the duties of government? What kind of a candidate would they favour? And what will be the outlook for the people under an administration elected by popular vote? I shall attempt to answer all these questions together. The mass of the Mexican people have had no preliminary training for true republican citizenship and government. Diaz's death will produce revolution,—peaceable or armed,—and it will occasion such trouble and turbulence, along the border lines of their territories, that it will become the duty of the United States to preserve order thereon. The interior of Mexico will be thrown {44} into confusion, and the conservative people of the Mexican republic will, in due course of time, appeal to and demand aid from the American republic, as the Cubans did; they will ask for protection, or perhaps annexation. This will not transpire over-night, but it will be the inevitable outcome of history.

The difficulties in the way of consolidation of the Spanish and Portuguese people, therefore, seem to me to be insurmountable. A necessary party to any such federation of a part or all of them is the United States of America; and her consent probably could never be obtained. She is the great, dominating, absorbing power, of the North and South American continents. Her policy must be freedom, equality, and protection to all. She will invade no territories, nor deprive any people, against their will, of the government under which they live. What comes into her family from Mexico will fall into her possession as a ripe apple drops into the lap of earth, naturally, and because the period of complete fruition has arrived.

I have endeavoured to sketch frankly, though briefly, the conditions of the Spanish people and the relation which the United States bears to them, especially to those of this continent. I may be in advance of political thought and judgment—I may have attempted to reveal too much of the future horizon to suit the tardy progress of political calculations. But in considering great international questions, frankness and broad views are necessary. The future is generally of more importance than the present. A policy of patching {45} up or mending existing conditions is always misleading and dangerous. This was seen in our treatment of the Chinese question. We are already experiencing it in relation to Cuba. We started out with a high-sounding proclamation of our intentions, which overlooked, or ignored, the true and permanent interests of the people of that island. "Fourth. That the United States hereby disclaims any disposition or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction, or control over said island, except for the pacification thereof, and asserts its determination, when that is accomplished, to leave the government and control of the island to its people."[5] Our hands ought to be free to act as circumstances should disclose or dictate. We are now, or soon shall be, confronted with conditions in Cuba which will require us to retreat from our lofty premises and to violate our own declaration. It is a crying evil that in the treatment of great public questions our statesmen will not act with openness and frankness, but constantly seek refuge behind false or hypocritical explanations, or use subterfuges to conceal their real thoughts and purposes. It was perfectly manifest that without a preliminary or probative period, the Cubans would not be in any condition to govern themselves, and that an experiment of the present kind must end in misfortune to these people. To put the tools or implements of a free government in their hands and turn them loose to experiment among themselves was an act of folly on our part, {46} and dissipated the advantages gained by independence.

But one word more, apropos of the whole question of the relations of the Anglo-Saxon race to the Russians, Chinese, Spaniards, and Portuguese. Considered either separately or as a whole, they furnish a subject of supreme interest and importance to our people. To me they alone are sufficient and a full cause for a prompt understanding between us. United and acting sympathetically, we can more or less shape the events of the future by a wise and truly beneficent policy. If the English and American statesmen do not agree with me, but leave this question to fate, as it were, there may come storms, cross-currents, deflections, and all manner of unforeseen opposing forces, which will render the unification of our people impossible or futile. Perhaps this is our destiny—but I think not.[6]

And be it clearly understood that in all I have said, I merely indicate what I believe to be the inevitable drift of things—the handwriting upon the wall. With the public morality and the intermediate questions of international law depending on {47} that morality, I am not at present concerned. It is impossible to regulate these questions in advance, and it is assuredly true that such considerations, however well grounded, have never long delayed a general tendency. History, in all its stages, conjectural, traditional, and authentic, discloses with almost painful clearness that there are underlying forces governing the progress of the human race, which are made manifest in successive ages only by their results, and with which conscious volition seems to have but little to do. We in this country only exemplify a general truth (a truth easily ascertainable by a glance at our circumstances), which operates none the less strongly because with our cultivated sentiments we sometimes rebel against its necessary sequences. The only question for me is, how can this truth be best applied—how best utilised. If I am right in what I have said of the Anglo-Saxon race in its two great branches, the inference becomes clear. To that race primarily belongs in a preponderating degree the future of mankind, because it has proved its title to its guardianship. But it is in the firm union of that race, in its steady co-operation, and in its undeviating adherence to its common ideals, that the whole success of the experiment, or of what remains of the experiment, now depends.

[1] I select in this connection an extract from an article in the North American Review, June, 1898, by Hon. David Mills, Canadian Minister of Justice, entitled "Which shall dominate, Saxon or Slav?"

"Let us consider the aims of Russia, as shown by what she has attempted and accomplished in modern times. The Russian statesman loves conquest. With him it is a habit of mind. Russia is a great Asiatic power, employing the resources of western civilisation to further her ambitious designs. Her conquests are not the outcome of industrial enterprise. They have not sprung from the necessities of commerce. Her acquisitions have not arisen from a desire to find a profitable investment for her capital. They are due entirely to a love of dominion. In the last century, she acquired all the territory lying between her western border, and the Gulf of Bothnia, and the Baltic Sea. She acquired the greater part of Poland and the whole of Crim-Tartary. In this century she has obtained Finland from Sweden, Bessarabia and a part of Armenia from Turkey. She has acquired the Caucasus, Georgia, several provinces of Persia, and the whole country from the Caspian Sea, on the west, to the borders of China, on the east, including Samarcand, Bakhara, Khiva, and Merv, besides a large section of North-eastern China. Russia is the one great state of the world that pays no regard to her treaty obligations longer than it is convenient for her to do so. Her territories cover an area nearly three times as large as the United States, and are being constantly extended. If she finds resistance at any point upon her borders, she rests there, and pushes forward her boundaries where those upon whom she encroaches are not prepared to stay her march. What she acquires is hers absolutely, the trade of the people no less than her dominion over them. Not the slightest reliance can be put upon her promises. She regards falsehood as a legitimate weapon in diplomacy, as deceit is in war. In Afghanistan, which she declared to be outside of the sphere of Russian diplomacy, and within the sphere of diplomacy of England, she carried on constant intrigues against English authority. Her representatives sought to stir up rebellion. She endeavoured to obtain the consent of its rulers for the construction of a road that would lead to India, and for the purchase of supplies that would support an army of invasion on their march. She never gives up any purpose which she has once formed. More than eight centuries ago she marched an army of 80,000 men to conquer the Byzantine Empire, and to seize Constantinople. What she then undertook, and failed to accomplish, she has never abandoned. It has been from time to time postponed for a more fitting opportunity. She lost six great armies in the march from the Caspian to Samarcand, and two centuries elapsed from the time when she contemplated this conquest before it was consummated. If the Russian Empire holds together, she counts on the conquest of Turkey, of Persia, of India, and of China.

"If Russia succeeds in the task to which she has set herself she will hold seventeen millions of square miles of territory, and she will have under her dominion nine hundred millions of people. The fall of the British Empire is regarded by Russian statesmen as essential to the realisation of her hopes. Let me ask: What would be the position of the world, with so much territory and so many people under one ruler, wielding the power necessary to the realisation of his wishes? It is only necessary to study the commercial and industrial policy of Russia to discover that she would trample into the earth every people that might aspire to better their position or to become in any way her rivals. In every department of commerce, and in every field in which greatness might be achieved, her rulers would regard any attempt at success as an attack upon her supremacy.

"In the discussion of this question I embrace the United States as a part of the Anglo-Saxon community. I do so because, in the present position of the race, and of the work which obviously lies before it, the loss of British supremacy in the world would be scarcely less disastrous to the United States than it would be to the British Empire. It is true that the United States, under the present order of things, has room for further expansion. But the present order of things rests upon Anglo-Saxon supremacy. Even within her existing limits, she may grow for many years to come; and if Turkey, Persia, India, and China were added to the empire of Russia, the whole position of the world would be completely changed; the condition of things on this continent would be revolutionised. With the power thus centred under Russian control and directed from St. Petersburg, with the valley of the Euphrates occupied by Russians devoted to agriculture, with the frontiers of that mighty Empire resting upon the Indian Ocean; and with the whole commerce of Asia in her possession, Russia would, as a natural consequence of these tremendous additions, become the dominant sea power. The Pacific Ocean would be a Russian lake, and her eastern frontiers would rest upon the western shore of North America. The British Islands would rapidly diminish in population, until the number of inhabitants would be such as the product of the soil would naturally support. The United Kingdom could no longer be a market for the breadstuffs of this continent, and European immigration to America would cease. Russia would rapidly grow in wealth and in population, but no country in the Western Hemisphere would do either; for the great markets of the world would be in the possession of a power that would use them to cripple the commerce of any state which would, in any degree, aspire to become her rival.

"In the highest sense the United States has not, and cannot have, an independent existence. Her fortune is inseparably associated with the race to which she belongs, in which her future is wrapt up, and in which she lives and moves and has her being. The unity between the United States and the British Empire is a matter both of race and growth. They touch each other, and as peoples unite and great states arise, they must be, for all great international purposes, one people."

[2] The World Almanac and Encyclopedia, 1903. p. 353.

[3] See in this connection an interesting article by Henry Charles Lea, entitled "The Decadence of Spain," Atlantic Monthly, July, 1898.

[4] In 1801, 20.9 per cent. of the people who spoke the European languages were Spanish, and only 12.7 per cent. were English; but in 1890 the ratio was changed to 13.9 per cent. Spanish and 27 per cent. English.

[5] Act of Congress, April 20, 1898.

[6] In this connection I call attention again to the article of Hon. David Mills, Canadian Minister of Justice (heretofore quoted from, ante, p. 13), North American Review, June, 1898: "The interests of the world call for Anglo-Saxon alliance. Let not the British Empire and the United States revive, after the lapse of centuries, the old contest of Judah and Ephraim; but, remembering that their interests are one, as the race is one, let them stand together, to maintain the ascendency which they will hold as long as Providence fits them to lead; which will be as long as, in their dealings with those beneath them, they are actuated by principles of justice and truth."

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CHAPTER II

THE ORIGIN AND FORM OF THE SUGGESTED ALLIANCE BETWEEN ENGLAND AND THE UNITED STATES

I.—HOW THE SUGGESTION AROSE

Out of the conditions and events to which I have first alluded there arose what I call a desultory, scattered, but emphatic, sentiment among many English-Americans for a closer union, a feeling that a permanent relation of some kind should be established between the United States and the British Empire. There is a prevailing opinion that our race should be more sympathetic, that we should live closer together, know each other better, and think and act in unison on great questions affecting our mutual progress and welfare; in other words, that we should interfuse in our thoughts, acts, and exterior policy. This sentiment for union came upon us suddenly and unexpectedly; it was natural and spontaneous. It was not the creation of man's ingenuity; it was not the invention of diplomacy; it was an evolution. A continuity of a chain of organisms, extending from {49} the lowest to the highest, is an evolution. "Tous les ages sont enchaînés par une suite de causes et d'effets que lient l'état du monde à tous ceux qui l'ont précédé."[1]

The existing feeling among the people calling for a nearer and closer relationship of the English-speaking race is the recognition of this evolution.

The belief that steps should be taken to put this feeling into some practicable and tangible shape does not emanate from one country, but it comes from both. It springs not from official or diplomatic sources; it is the spontaneous utterance of the people of both countries.

The peculiar, isolated fact which brought this question to light, and to the attention of the two nations, was the Spanish-American War. The moral support which England gave to America in that struggle caused it to develop, and brought about its further propagation. England's position in that war was not manifested in any official or recognised diplomatic manner, but, by some kind of language, intimation, or action known and understood in the courts of Europe, the continental powers were made to understand that she would permit no interference with the United States in the conduct of the war.

Spain also had her friends. At least two great continental powers sympathised with her in the struggle she was making against such enormous odds, and the current belief is that if England's {50} position in this war had not been well known, those powers, with others in the sphere of their attraction, would have manifested their sympathy for Spain in a substantial and combined way. In short, the United States would have had to oppose a European combination. It is not claimed that any such combination was actually formed. The prevailing feeling was that one would have been formed if England's sentiments had not been fully known and declared. Whether this be so or not is now immaterial. I am simply tracing the history of the movement. I am describing the situation as it then appeared.

I find, therefore, that it was a natural condition of affairs which spontaneously brought to the surface this thought of an alliance between England and the United States. In the course of events, the situation of England and the United States, standing vis-à-vis to all, or several, of the continental powers, was a strong possibility, and it set the English-speaking races seriously thinking about their fate under such circumstances. The political and military horoscope of Europe was laid bare to them, and they were confronted, for the first time in their history, with the possibility of a war in which they might find themselves in armed opposition to two, or more, or all, of the continental powers of Europe. In truth, many urgent and earnest appeals were, and are, constantly made, in desultory newspaper articles, and in various unofficial ways, in favour of a coalition of the continental powers of Europe against what is termed {51} the "Anglo-Saxon race." The usual arguments are used and the usual epithets applied. They are accused, as race attributes, of "greed," "rapacity," "brutality," and, what is worse, of "hypocrisy." Engaged, as we of the United States were at that period, in a war which we believed to be righteous, we were for the first time in a position to estimate at their proper value such accusations when applied to England herself, and how far they might be considered as the product of senseless fear and blind jealousy and envy.

Before the Spanish War began, no one seriously thought of, or considered, an alliance. It is true that the reading classes among us generally found that in proportion as their knowledge extended beyond one or two given points, their respect and admiration for England became increasingly great. But in practice it was always with some difficulty that the ordinary affairs of national intercourse and business could be adjusted between her and the United States. Like members of the same family, we became easily excited, and were always ready, under such circumstances, to say disagreeable, intemperate, and biting things of each other.

England's covert support and open sympathy with the United States changed our feelings towards the mother country; it awakened our gratitude, and aroused European fear and envy. When Manila was captured by Dewey a new scene in international history was unfolded. The event revealed to the full gaze of astonished Europe the tremendous power and influence of the {52} British Empire and the United States acting in concert.

While there was no actual compact or treaty between the English and Americans, the diplomats of Europe were quick to imagine one. A spectre is always more alarming, and often more effective, than a reality. The situation of affairs was the same as if a treaty had actually existed. The friction, the misunderstandings, the fretfulness, which theretofore existed between the United States and England, and which the other powers of Europe relied upon as a sufficient barrier to prevent any concerted policy between them, suddenly disappeared, and they stood before the world as friends and allies. Here was a new and undreamed-of combination. The cards of diplomacy must be reshuffled, and in future deals the strong possibility of the Anglo-Saxon race being found together, solidly unified, must be considered and provided against.

It should be remembered, that the support given to the Americans, in the Spanish War, was not merely formal, although not sanctioned by treaty. It subjected England to the risk of being involved in serious complications with the other nations of Europe. She took all the risk and responsibility of allowing an impression to prevail that her sympathy, and support, if need be, were with the United States. All the moral force of an actual treaty resulted to the United States from the situation. The position of England, in fact, was precisely the same as if she had openly avowed {53} herself as, and contracted to become, an ally of the United States, and the Americans distinctively gained by it. This episode cannot now be lightly brushed aside. It should never be forgotten by the American people. It was a generous act on the part of the British nation openly to tender its sympathy to the United States. It was voluntary and unsolicited. England did not stop to discuss and analyse the causes of the war with Spain. She placed herself by our side on the broad grounds familiar to her own people, and gave us full credit for the rectitude of our intentions, as proclaimed by ourselves.

There was no qualification attached to her sympathy. It would have been an easy task for casuists and international lawyers to have raised an argument in favour of Spain, but it was not heard in England. There were no public meetings in the British Empire to protest against our war with Spain: none of her orators, or well-known public men, or high officials, denounced our conduct as unjustifiable or unrighteous. Not a word of that kind was heard from any respectable quarter. There was never an occasion in history when national gratitude was more justly due from one nation to another. The less we say as to how this debt has been repaid the better our feelings and manners. We must, at least, candidly admit that many American criticisms of England in the Boer War have been in a very different spirit—sufficiently ill-bred, harsh, and unfriendly. That may be passed by. Difference of opinion on such subjects {54} is natural, and language is generally exaggerated in proportion to ignorance of the subject. But a more recently developed sentiment among us is deserving of severer censure: a few of our people are disposed to turn the sympathy and assistance of England at that critical moment into a ground of complaint against her; not only is her friendship denied and denounced, but she is accused of having beguiled us into the paths of imperialism, and our rulers share in the denunciation, as having succumbed to her blandishments—a monstrous and wholly unique instance of political perversity.

It must not be assumed, however, that a feeling of gratitude, on the part of the United States, should be manifested or repaid by making an alliance with England. This would be mere sentiment,—commendable but misplaced. An alliance based upon such a foundation would be built upon quicksand. Gratitude is a noble quality, but it is more dangerous than gunpowder when applied to political affinities.

But to return to the main subject; the thought of an alliance between the English-speaking people grew out of the Spanish-American War, and speculations, at first limited to a purely military view, of an offensive and defensive treaty between the two nations, for temporary purposes, have gradually grown and enlarged, until they have led to conjecture concerning the whole future of the English-speaking nations, their wealth and resources, their religious, moral, and political growth and destiny: they have also led to researches into {55} the history of the past; thus embracing both a backward and forward view.

Happily, the thought of an alliance has sunk deeply into the minds of many serious people, who realise that in a seemingly accidental, certainly unpremeditated, way, a great historical truth has been uncovered, which, in its full growth and maturity, may lead to the greatest epoch in the history of the English-speaking race. The Spanish-American War, lamentable as it was in some of its aspects, inevitable in others, surprising in all, may hereafter be regarded as an event of supreme importance in the history of England and the United States, just as the accidental discovery of the Corpus Juris Civilis was to the world of that period, in enabling it to form new conceptions of law, and through these conceptions to advance many steps in its progress from barbarism to civilisation; or, to bring the illustration closer home to us, as the accidental assembling of a few enterprising men in a London inn gave rise to the undertaking of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, and that, in its indirect results, to the enormous possibilities inherent in the fact of the establishment of the Anglo-Saxon race on this continent.

II.—THE INDEFINITENESS OF THE FORM OF THE PROPOSED ALLIANCE

Although much has already been said and written upon this great subject in the United States and England, the suggestions respecting closer relationship have been most general and indefinite; and, {56} with a single exception,[2] so far as I can discover, no one has ventured to outline a plan by which a tangible result can be reached. It is agreed that a "better feeling," a "better understanding," a "better knowledge" of each other, a "closer union," more "intimate relations," an "entente," should exist between the people of the two countries.

But what is meant by these terms, or, when defined, how to carry them into practical effect, is left in total darkness. It is impossible to make any real progress in the discussion of the question, unless some accurate landmarks are made; a starting-point must be fixed, from which arguments I may proceed, and upon which conclusions may be established.

To an intelligent discussion of any subject, a definition is a sine qua non. What is meant by "alliance," "union," a "better understanding," a "closer relationship," "interfusion," an "entente," and terms of like import? It is in vain that the citizens of both countries may wish or hope for a better understanding, or that a better feeling, or a closer relation, or union, should exist between them. It is said that idle wishes are the most idle of all idle things.

In what does closer relationship consist? And how shall it be brought about and cemented? What is the thing to be accomplished? What are the reasons for its accomplishment? And by what {57} methods can it be accomplished? These are the salient inquiries.

In search of light upon this question, I have taken as a basis of discussion a resolution adopted by the "Anglo-American League," a society formed in London in the summer of 1898, consisting of representative individuals, chosen from all grades of social, political, civil, and commercial life, which was as follows[3]:

"I. Considering that the peoples of the British Empire and of the United States of America are closely allied in blood, inherit the same literature and laws, hold the same principles of self-government, recognise the same ideals of freedom and humanity in the guidance of their national policy, and are drawn together by strong common interests in many parts of the world, this meeting is of the opinion that every effort should be made, in the interest of civilisation and peace, to secure the most cordial and constant co-operation between the two nations."

Here is a clear and well-defined presentation of the subject: first, the _postulate, i.e., _the people of the two countries are closely allied in blood, inherit the same literature and laws, hold the same principles of self-government, recognise the same ideals of freedom and humanity in the guidance of their national policy, and are drawn together by strong common interests in many parts of the world; second, the _motive, i.e., _in the interest of civilisation and peace; third, the _conclusion, i.e., _every effort should be made to secure the most cordial and constant co-operation.

{58}

This resolution crystallises the combined thought of all the orators and writers who have contributed to this subject; and furnishes a clear text for a full discussion of the whole question. The facts contained in the resolution, that we are "closely allied in blood, inherit the same literature and laws, hold the same principles of self-government, recognise the same ideals of freedom and humanity, . . . and are drawn together by strong common interests in many parts of the world," are sufficiently serious to justify and support the conclusion that "every effort should be made . . . to secure the most cordial and constant co-operation between the two nations,"—especially as the high and noble motive which impels this effort is "in the interest of civilisation and peace." Here is a "motive and a cue" which should enlist, not the Anglo-Saxon race alone, but the sympathy of the whole Christian world.

But how, when, and by whom are such "efforts" to be made, to secure this "most cordial and constant co-operation between the two nations "? The resolution, speeches and articles referred to give little or no light on these important points. No plan is laid down; no ways or means suggested by which objects so highly extolled and so important, shall be accomplished. The public men of both countries advocate an entente, a "cultivation of better relations" between the two peoples. They shudder at the mere suggestion of a written treaty or executed alliance. In these respects their advice and acts are conservative. But is it {59} safe to leave the subject in this indefinite condition? Should we not advance another step or two in the direction of a real national fraternity? The question should not be allowed to remain in this doubtful and unsatisfactory state. The noble purposes of this resolution cannot be attained by mere words. Acts must follow the wishes and declarations. Every assertion of this resolution should be clearly and explicitly proven; the objects to be accomplished by co-operation demonstrated; and the plans by which they shall be carried into effect determined, and, if practicable, enforced.

At present we have advanced no farther in the question than this: It appears that many persons on both sides of the Atlantic have a wish, a feeling, a sentiment, a belief, a conviction, that it is for the mutual benefit of the British Empire and the United States that co-operation, interfusion, union, should be permanently established between the two countries.

This is the first step in the movement. Discussion, argument, controversy, properly precede acts. A spirit of scepticism, as Buckle says,[4] certainly a spirit of inquiry, must arise previous to actual steps being made in any great movement. But, if the statements contained in this resolution are correct, it is the duty of every citizen of England and the United States, in fact, the duty of citizens of all countries, to commence the agitation of the question; to bend their energies to its solution, and to {60} aid in the quick and complete consummation of co-operation. If the purpose of co-operation is to secure "civilisation and peace" to the inhabitants of the world, it is not merely the business of Englishmen and Americans to see that it succeeds, but it is a matter in which all mankind is interested. The question is not limited to those of the English-speaking family; it is as broad as humanity itself.

No reason has been assigned why the consummation of this important subject should be postponed or evaded. On the contrary, existing conditions require that it should be pushed to a solution. It has come to stay—to be solved. Great events cannot be ripped, untimely, from the womb of history. They are born at regular periods of political gestation, and when thus ushered into the world, become ripe for discussion and action. They cannot be smothered. They must be met and settled. Of course, the professional politicians, especially those of the United States, will not touch this great subject of "union." They will await events. They will gauge its popularity. They will study its effect and influence upon the Irish and German vote. They will play with it until it becomes a burning, absorbing, national topic, and when the wind of popular approval blows that way, they will outrival each other in its advocacy. The politicians are born for the hour. A learned, thoughtful, and dispassionate advocacy of any public question, by a professional politician, would be a rara avis in national life. The inherent strength, reason, and justice of great public questions, are never considered {61} by these nimble gentlemen—in fact, perhaps they never were. The business of politics involves only the present. The motto of the politicians is "Policy," "Expediency"; not "Truth," "Reason," and "Stability." In the primitive stages of this discussion, therefore, it is left in the hands of the independent, non-partisan thinkers. This class must mould it into tangible, practical shape, before it can be brought into the realm of ordinary politics.

III.—DEFINITION OF CO-OPERATION, ALLIANCE, UNION, OR COMPACT

Our first aim, therefore, is to discover what kind of co-operation should be established between the two nations. And this may be accomplished by stating what is not meant to be included in the term.

I take it that the sincere advocates of co-operation, union, interfusion, do not mean, by these or kindred terms, an "offensive and defensive" treaty, or alliance, between the United States and the British Empire, for the mere temporary purpose of commercial or material aggrandisement, or conquest, or for military or naval aggression, or defence. If that be the scope and limit of this movement, it might as well be dropped, as utterly and wholly impracticable. In fact, an offensive and defensive treaty, in its common acceptation, has already been discarded by the advocates of union. The great end and purpose of the resolution, to "secure civilisation and peace," cannot be attained {62} by such means. To ascertain the source from which co-operation and interfusion between the English-speaking people arises, to distinguish Anglo-Saxon union from other forms of international alliance, it seems a necessary prelude to the discussion of the subject to recall the primary ends of government. In whatever form it exists, its ends may all be summed up in the idea of benefit, or advantage. It is so in the most arbitrary despotism that ever existed among men; it is so in the most enlightened free system; the difference being that through progressive development in the several succeeding conditions of society, the free government confers greater benefit and advantage. We need not now consider the former; we have to do with the latter only. As it is, in the modern sense, its raison d'etre is the harmonious blending of all classes of society; the preservation of the essential interests, wisely understood, of the people; the preservation of an open field for the exercise of every virtue and every talent, and, subject to these, the performance of every duty enjoined by good neighbourhood, and the encouragement of every tendency and impulse which points to the amelioration of mankind, at home or abroad. Such is the idea of a commonwealth, constructed on true, liberal principles, and sanctified by Christianity.

As an individual is endowed with intellectual, moral, and physical functions for the purpose of ennobling his own existence, benefiting his fellow-men, and reaching by these means a higher plane of moral and religious life, so government, {63} as we now understand it, is organised to place it within the power of men to enjoy to their fullest extent, religious, civil, and political liberty; or, to express it in another way, to give an individual those rights, privileges, and liberties which the true and purest thoughts of the past ages have determined as the best rule for his real happiness.

The peculiar and striking characteristic, or virtue, of the Anglo-Saxon people is, that they understand the objects for which governments are instituted more directly, and apply them more successfully and broadly than other peoples. They keep more closely in view the origin and aim of political society in its relation to individuals, and to other nations—to the world at large. Montesquieu frankly made this admission in 1748, when he said: "They know better than any other people upon earth how to value at the same time those three great advantages, religion, commerce, and liberty."[5] And Mommsen made the same admission when, with evident reference to the English race, he said, it knows how to combine "a love of freedom with a veneration for authority."

And Mr. Webster uttered the same thought:

"I find at work everywhere, on both sides of the Atlantic, under various forms and degrees of restrictions on the one hand, and under various degrees of motive and stimulus, on the other hand, in these branches of a common race, the great principle of the freedom of human thought, and the respectability of individual character. I find, everywhere, an elevation of the character of man as man, an elevation of the individual as a component part of society. I find everywhere a rebuke {64} of the idea, that the many are made for the few, or that government is anything but an agency of mankind. And I do not care beneath what zone, frozen, temperate, or torrid; I care not what complexion, white or brown; I care not under what circumstances of climate or cultivation, if I can find a race of men on an inhabitable spot of Earth whose general sentiment it is, and whose general feeling it is, that government is made for man—man as a religious, moral, and social being—and not man for government—there I know, I shall find prosperity and happiness."[6]

In the foregoing we have the motive and justification for a combination of the Anglo-Saxon people.

The words "to advance civilisation" have been very frequently used in the discussion of this topic as a motive for alliance or relationship. This word "civilisation" is an easy word to invoke to cover false policies, and is often flippantly applied without a real idea of its scope. It is important therefore, to have a clear understanding of its meaning. It means, primarily, to reclaim from a savage or semibarbarous state. This, then, presents the first step in the efforts of a nation—I may say its first duty—to those within and without the fold of its sovereignty—to reclaim mankind from a barbarous and savage state. The conquests of savage tribes and nations have been many times justified upon this broad principle; such historical events as the conquest of America and of British India can perhaps only be supported on these grounds. The {65} attainment and diffusion of civilisation is not accomplished without much suffering and loss, but this is as natural as the growth of a plant from the seed. Pain and suffering are the inevitable concomitants of birth and growth. Man is ushered into the world through the travail of his mother, and the birth of civilisation is not excepted from the rule which applies to particular individuals.

To introduce order and civic organisation among those reclaimed from a savage or barbarous state is the secondary meaning of the term "civilise." Order is a necessary element in the formation and development of society. To understand and apportion among men their respective positions in society; to define all the rights and duties of individuals and put them in their proper places, is the great aim of government; and as order is "Heaven's first law," so it is the corner-stone of human association. As nothing is more pleasing and striking to the human eye than a well-regulated and orderly household, everything in its place, clean, refined, and harmonious, so nothing is so necessary to a good government as simple, proper, well-defined, orderly rules of conduct for its citizens. A nation which invades and conquers a savage tribe, or uncivilised nation, and in place of the chaos, confusion, and at times unspeakable cruelties which there prevail, introduces order, civic government, and humanity, is creditably fulfilling its ambition and national purposes.

In the noble words of Cicero "nothing earthly is more acceptable to that first and omnipotent {66} God who rules the universe, than those Councils and assemblages of men (duly ordered) which are called States."

But following the reign of law, the profound significance of which I will not now pause to dwell on, there is a third meaning attached to "civilise": it means to refine and enlighten; elevation in social and individual life. In the second and third meanings of this term, we have the guarantees of liberty, justice, equality, fraternity. After the first step, therefore, of conquest, reclaiming people from a semi-barbarous or savage state, there comes the second state of civilisation,—order and civic government,—followed by the third degree,—refinement and enlightenment, elevation in social and individual life. These different stages of national growth are all illustrated in the progress of civilisation.

Now, the history of the English-speaking race shows a constant advance from a semi-barbarous state to a high degree of civilisation. It has never gone backwards in its march from one degree of civilisation to another. At times, it is true, it has been diverted; at other times, generally from the pressure of external causes, it has apparently paused, and it has seemed as if its mission were at an end; but it soon resumed the forward movement, until to-day it leads the van of civilisation; i.e., barbarism has disappeared to give way to order and civic government, and refinement and enlightenment pervade, create, and elevate social and individual life. One can trace the progress of the English nation as plainly as the {67} growth and development of a human being; from weak, puerile infancy into strong and sturdy manhood; suffering all the diseases that flesh is heir to, but eventually overcoming them, and advancing with renewed vigour and health in the march of its destiny.

I mean no offence to other nations—all modern European governments have shared in a general way in the same movement; all may have their specific excellences, but we know our own best, and are justified in thinking that it is more indigenous, better built and better founded, follows surer methods, and is more conspicuously entitled to gain the applause and fulfil the expectations of mankind.

I therefore lay it down as a basis of an alliance, or union, that the British. Empire and the United States mean, in all sincerity and good faith, when they establish co-operation, to work for civilisation and peace; to move harmoniously and sympathetically together for the accomplishment of this great object—namely, the benefit of mankind. This, then, is the central, true, deep, absorbing purpose of their alliance, an interfusion of ideas, principles, sympathies and thoughts of the people of both countries; acting, working together, and co-operating to accomplish a common purpose, mission, and end. We must mingle together in thought, and in sentiment; we must be allies in the noblest sense of the word; not friends merely in aggressive and selfish enterprises, but locked together in a common thought and common purpose to achieve the {68} great and glorious object of civilisation. And let this purpose be broadly, clearly, and comprehensively stated, in some declaration, in some writing, perpetuating the compact of union—let us write a second Magna Charta, or a second Declaration of Independence; commemorate our joint purpose in some imperishable instrument, upon which may be written declarations so clear and convincing that the world can never mistake our purposes or misconstrue our motives.

[1] Second Discours en Sorbonne in Œuvres de Turgot, vol. ii., p. 52. Quoted in Buckle's History of Civilisation in England, vol. i, p. 597.

[2] See article of Professor Dicey, The Contemporary Review Advertiser, April, 1897, p. 212, recommending the establishment of a common citizenship.

[3] The Chairman of this League was the Rt. Hon. Jas. Bryce,
M.P.; the Hon. Treasurer, Duke of Sutherland; the Hon.
Secretaries, T. Lee Roberts, Esq., R. C. Maxwell, Esq. LL.D.,
Sir Fred. Pollock, Bart.

[4] Vol. ii., History of Civilisation, etc., p. 1, note.

[5] Spirit of Laws, vol. ii., p. 6.

[6] From speech delivered on the 22nd of December, 1843, at New England Society of New York, on the Landing of Pilgrims at Plymouth, Webster's Works, vol. ii., p. 214.

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CHAPTER III

THE HISTORICAL FACTS TRACED WHICH HAVE BEEN GRADUALLY LEADING TO INTERFUSION BETWEEN THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING PEOPLE

ARE we the chosen race of Israel? Are we the peoples of the earth, elected to lead the van of civilisation and peace?

Let our competency and integrity of purpose be judged by our present lives, by our civilisation and government, and by our past history. When we discuss the ability, competency, and fitness of an individual for a public or private trust, we begin by examining into his character, his mental and intellectual acquirements, his business capacity; his experience, his past life and conduct. We gauge and weigh every element of his moral and intellectual nature, and our judgment is formed by the results, good or bad, which flow from the examination.

Now, a state or government has a character precisely like an individual. To analyse it, understand and appreciate it, we must search the records of history; we must examine and weigh {70} every important epoch of its national life to determine its fitness, its trustworthiness, and its ability to be charged with the great mission of civilisation and peace. We must sum up its influence upon its own people, as well as consider the effect of its national life and character upon other nations.

Before I proceed, then, to examine into the motives and reasons which operate on the English and American nations to justify a union, it is well to inquire into their national character. In the light of history, how do the Anglo-Saxon people stand? Guided by such, how should the outside world estimate us? Is the compact we are contemplating a false or unholy one? Is it for the present and future interest of the English-speaking people to make it? Will this union militate against the interests of the other nations of the world?

I do not propose to attempt to recall the history of England—not even in the briefest form. I will simply bring to notice certain salient epochs, which I will use as monuments to mark the progress of the Anglo-Saxon race, as it journeyed from its primitive, formative condition to a state of enlightenment. I do not stop to dwell upon intermediate history, or attempt to explain, palliate, or justify acts which of themselves may seem to deviate from the general character of the people. Such acts, indeed, were part of the conditions of their growth. I take my readers to a high vantage-ground, and point out to them the long pilgrimage of the nation from its untutored infancy to the shrine of its full manhood. And I shall hereafter {71} consider the subtle, all-pervading influences which their institutions, laws, language, and literature have had upon the formation of national and individual character.

I.—THE DIFFERENT EPOCHS WHICH LED TO THE DEVELOPMENT AND EXPANSION OF THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING RACE

(a) The Introduction of Christianity into England

The English race began its outward and more apparent national life as a band of marauders, rovers, and pirates, by chasing, in a large measure, the original Celtic inhabitants of Britain from their soil, and taking possession of it. The exact motives which induced them to make these excursions to that island, or the circumstances which surrounded them, are lost in the darkness of the past. Probably they were prompted by mere rapacity and the gratification of the spirit of enterprise. The tribes which are now distinctly marked, as the Engle, Saxon, and Jute, belonged to the same Low German branch of the Teutonic family, and were, as it is said by the historians, at the moment when history discovers them, being drawn together by the ties of a common blood, common speech, common social and political institutions. There is perhaps no ground for believing that these three tribes looked on themselves as one people, or that they adopted the name of Englishmen when they first settled in England, but each of them was destined to share in the conquest of that island, and it was from the {72} union of all of them, when its conquest was complete, that the English people has sprung.[1]

The real national life of the people, however, commenced in the sixth century, when Gregory (597) sent the Roman abbot Augustine, at the head of a band of monks, to preach the Gospel to them; and, as among the Greeks, the religious tie thus created, became the strongest tie.

The flood of new thoughts and new purposes which Christ had opened to the Eastern world began, by this time, to permeate Europe. The distinctive features of Christ's precepts and life, considering Him as a pure teacher alone, were that He instructed men how to make the best use of their mental, physical, and spiritual faculties. Consequently, as individual character is the real basis of human society, Christianity became a necessary part of government. At first, it was a plant of slow growth in English soil, but the seed, once sown, took firm hold, and to-day, in England, North America, and in the colonies of the British Empire, Christianity, avowedly or essentially, is strongly and healthfully entwined in all its constitutions and governments,—a strong principle of cohesion, yet yielding to the people an unrestrained freedom of religious opinion and worship of the most unqualified character.

Of course, I do not overlook the immense benefits of Christianity common to all the nations among which it was introduced; it made the great distinction between ancient and modern civilization—between {73} ancient and modern life. But, in England, it was so far peculiar, that its ready and peaceful acceptance, and the purposes of political homogeneity to which it was turned, indicate a distinct national characteristic. All the subsequent religious history of the country, even after diversities arose, bears evidence of the same general truth. In the contests through which society sought its amelioration, we can discover always that "intimate connection between personal liberty and the rights of conscience and the development of public liberty so peculiar to the English race."[2]

I take the introduction of Christianity into England to be the first great step in her natural and national progress—the first span in the bridge which led from barbarity to civilisation. Its influence upon the people can be profitably studied in the typical Englishman, King Alfred.[3]

Of Liberty, the poet Shelley sings with equal truth and beauty:

"And then the shadow of thy coming fell
On Saxon Alfred's olive-cinctured brow."

We have recently celebrated the millennium of this illustrious ruler. It should be made an occasion for the advancement of the purposes I am {74} here opening. These purposes would have been Alfred's.

(b) The Consolidation of the Different Kingdoms of England into One

Although from the time of the landing of the Jutes, Saxons, and Engles (449), their history is jejune and scanty, and the occurrences of four centuries have been condensed by an accomplished historian[4] into a few pages of history, yet sufficient appears to show that the several governments established by them in England were engaged in many bloody and bitter intestine contests, and that the consolidation of the people was first effected by Egbert (about 827). This union lasted only five years, and we are told that it was brought about, "for the moment, by the sword of Egbert." It was a union of sheer force, which broke down at the first blow of the sea robbers—the Northmen—who, about this time, invaded England. But the very chance which destroyed the new England was destined to bring it back again, and to breathe into it a life which made its union real. "The peoples who had so long looked on each other as enemies found themselves confronted by a common foe. They were thrown together by a common danger, and the need of a common defence. Their common faith grew into a national bond, as religion struggled, hand in hand, with England itself; against the heathen of the North."[5] They recognised a common king, as a common struggle {75} changed Alfred and his sons from mere leaders of West Saxons into leaders of all Englishmen in their fight with the stranger, and when the work which Alfred set his house to do was done; when the yoke of the Northmen was lifted from the last of his conquests, Engle, Saxon, Northumbrian, and Mercian, spent with the battle for a common freedom and a common country, knew themselves, in the hour of their deliverance, as an English people.[6]

The work of Alfred was to save the Saxon name and existence—that he accomplished. His conquest, on the other hand, was never complete. His wars ended in compromise, the Danes retaining large settlements in the North and East of England. Subsequently, their invasions were renewed. In Canute's reign, they were the prevailing people. In all these life-and-death struggles, there is nothing that detracts. The Danes should be considered as a cognate people, alternating with the Saxons, and finally blending with them; quite as often defenders of the soil as invaders, and contributing largely to the formation of the national character. In the struggle against the Norman king, they were the last to succumb.

The union which each several tribe within the nation had in turn failed to bring about was realised from the pressure of the Northmen. It seems that at the close of the eighth century, the drift of the English people towards national unity was utterly arrested. The work of Northumbria had {76} been foiled by the resistance of Mercia; the effort of Mercia had broken down before the resistance of Wessex; and a threefold division had stamped itself upon the land. So completely was the balance of power between the three realms which parted it, that no subjection of one to the other seemed likely to fuse the English tribes into an English people; yet the consolidation of the several kingdoms of England into one was eventually reached.[7]

It was the second step in its national progress.

What brought it about? Mark this well. The instinct of self-preservation, of which the ambition, more or less enlightened, of the several petty kings, was the instrument; the external force in the ravages of the Northmen; the marriages and alliances between the tribes; in fine, all of the same causes which to-day are operating with greater force towards the unification of the English-speaking peoples.

Compare England in this connection with the Grecian cities. The unhappy destiny of the latter was complete before they realised the benefit of consolidation, and when it was at last advocated, and in some small degree adopted, it was too late. We read of the Ætolian League and the Achaian League, but only as studies to the political thinker of an idea to which there was always wanting the power of fulfilment. Where lies the difference? Not in intellect, surely, for no race has ever surpassed the Greek in intellect. In what then? Simply, as I understand, in character—in that especial endowment by which the Anglo-Saxon {77} race so moulds itself, in its civic and social relations, as to attain the highest purposes of political wisdom, moderation, the subordination of self, the rejection of false or impossible ideals, together with a kind of innate perception of the value of time and occasion, in combination with persistency, stability, and courage—these are the qualities which have made its institutions at once models for the rest of the world, and the subjects of its envy. The fatal disease of small political entities ran through all the Grecian states, and they were doomed. Consolidation, with the Greeks, was never more than a faintly formed idea; with the English, like all other political conceptions, it soon became a fact.

(c) The Influence of the Roman Law upon England's Progress

A civilising influence of the highest importance was the absorption of the Roman law into their legal, ecclesiastical, and political systems. It is an epoch in the progress of the English, which, although impossible to say at what precise period its influence was the greatest upon their people, I call the third span in the bridge from an immature to a civilised state.

It is certain that the Romans had establishments in England from the time of Claudius (A.D. 43) until the year A.D. 448. During the greater part of these four centuries they governed it as a Roman province in the enjoyment of peace and the cultivation of arts. The Roman laws were {78} administered as the laws of that country, and at one time under the prefecture of their distinguished ornament, Papinian.[8]

To estimate its influence upon the progress and development of England, one must be prepared to accept the now generally recognised opinion, that the Roman Law permeated every branch of jurisprudence—property, procedure, criminal law—all. It was ubiquitous, and even the feudal system, whose origin was attributed, by most of the common-law writers, to the time of William the Conqueror, is shown to have existed long anterior to that reign; and was, probably, the creation of the Romans.

The jurisprudence of Rome was, and has ever been, an unfailing fountain, whence the English people have drawn copious draughts of wisdom and knowledge.

I do not mean by these observations to detract from the common law—crude as it may have been as a science—for, in all that relates to the principles and protection of civil liberty, it was infinitely in advance of the Roman Law.

As a political system, the Roman Law was framed to be the instrument of the despotism, under which it was perfected. As in everything else, the English Law reflected the political genius of the people. They extracted and preserved the good, and rejected the evils, of the Roman system, the absorption of which exhibits keen power of assimilation.

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(d) The Great Charters; The Petition of Right; The Habeas Corpus Act, Passed under Charles, The Bill of Rights in 1688, and The Act of Settlement

The Great Charter of King John contained very few new grants, but, as Sir Edward Coke observes, was mainly declaratory of the fundamental laws of England.

But from his reign (1199) until the end of the reign of William III. (1700), a period of almost exactly five hundred years, the English nation was engaged in enlarging, deepening, and strengthening the forms of a constitutional monarchy. Thus, the Great Charter was confirmed in Parliament by Henry III., the son of John. In the next reign of Edward I., by statute called confirmatio cartarum, the Great Charter was directed to be allowed as the common law. And by a multitude of statutes between the last-named reign and that of Henry IV., its principles were again declared and corroborated. Hume enumerates these statutes as being thirty in all.

Then, after a long interval, and much backward and forward movement, thrillingly interesting to the student, came the parliamentary declaration of the liberties of the people, assented to by Charles I., in the beginning of his reign, and celebrated as the Petition of Right. Subsequently, the Habeas Corpus Act was passed in the reign of Charles II. To the above succeeded the Bill of Rights, delivered by the Lords and Commons to the Prince and Princess of Orange in 1688. Lastly, the {80} liberties of the people were again asserted at the commencement of the eighteenth century in the Act of Settlement, whereby some new provisions were added for the better securing of religion, laws, and liberties, which the Statute declares to be "the birthright of the people of England," according to the ancient doctrine of the common law.[9]

I take this great struggle for laws and liberty as marking another distinct and remarkable epoch in the history of England—the fourth span in the bridge of her growth and development.

I am travelling rapidly through the ages of English history; but not going so fast as not to be able to see that the nation and her people are constantly progressing.

(e) The Union with Scotland

The fifth great epoch in the History of England, is the union with Scotland; by which the Kingdoms of England and Scotland, on the 1st day of May, 1707, became united as one under the name of Great Britain. The Act which created this union did not constitute between the two nations a federal alliance, but an "incorporated union," the effect of which was that the two contracting states, in their dual condition relatively to each other were totally annihilated, and they became, thereafter, one political entity, without any power of revival.

It is not essential to trace the history, anterior and subsequent, which bears upon this great event; {81} yet we may profitably reflect, that, arising out of centuries of hostility and mutual injury, here also were the most inveterate prejudices to be overcome, upon the one hand; on the other, partial similarity of race, language, and institutions, and, in the view of statesmen, the most enormous advantages. Under wise and skilful management, the latter were at last made to prevail. It is, however, notorious, such was the perverse opposition, particularly in Scotland, the nation most to be benefited, that notwithstanding the preparation for the event by a long train of antecedent causes, had the measure been referred to a plebiscitum, it could not have been carried. Can we now do other than smile at such wilful blindness, such well-intentioned folly? It is a most interesting page in history, and in the present connection it carries with it the force of an authority.

(f) Discovery of America

I now turn to another epoch closely connected with the progress of the English-American people.

In the fifteen centuries which followed the birth of Christ, many important and profoundly serious historical events are chronicled, but the sublimest fact of them all, after the introduction of Christianity, is the discovery of America. The intelligence, ambition, courage, influence, and progress of the English race are nowhere more strongly illustrated than in the events which follow this portentous event: it constitutes the sixth great epoch in the history of the English-speaking people. {82} Originally controlled by the Spanish and French, this great North American Continent, little by little, but by sure and regular steps, at length came completely under the domination of the Anglo-Saxon race. I do not dwell upon this epoch as a mere spectacle of military and material conquest. I point to the great results which have flowed from it. Every acre of ground they acquired, either by conquest or purchase, they have retained, planting in its soil deep and indestructibly the seeds of their policy, religion, and government. No revolution, no time, no partial infusion of other races, has been able to eradicate the English-American principles from the ground in which they were originally sown.

There is a marked and impressive similarity between the conquest of Britain by the Engles, Saxons, and Jutes, subsequently consolidated into England, and the conquest or absorption of the North American Continent by the English-American people. The original Britons, as such, have almost entirely disappeared. And where are the aborigines of North America? A few bands of Indians constitute the vestige of the race which peopled the North American continent when the hand and power of the Anglo-Saxon people were laid upon it. Pause and reflect upon this conquest: how it was accomplished; the principles which justified the invasion of the country, and the acquisition of the territory of the Indians. It was not merely greed and conquest that actuated the settlers. Granted that they were not always above {83} the ordinary motives which actuate humanity, still in the main, it was the spirit of discovery, the inextinguishable thirst for enterprise, so marked a characteristic of the race, which impelled them. And, as we so well know, these qualities were often combined with the noblest motives;—the desire of finding absolute freedom for their religious opinions and worship, which the necessities of the political situation at home denied them. Go back to the aim and purpose of government for a justification of these acts, preliminary to the introduction of order and civic government in the midst of a savage and barbarous country. Behold the introduction of English principles, laws, literature, into the great North American continent. While with heartfelt sympathy we deplore the sufferings and extinction of the earlier possessors of the soil, do we not clearly see that it affords a conspicuous instance of that Providence which shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will?

(g) The Independence of the Colonies

The seventh great epoch in the progress of the English-speaking people, conceiving them as a whole in their growth and expansion, is the separation of the colonies from the mother country and the establishment of the Republic of the United States. It constitutes one of the most important links in the chain of circumstances which makes up the history of this people. It is perhaps the greatest expansion of a kindred race that history {84} has ever recorded. It has been accompanied by such a fecundity of population; such marvellous personal and aggregate wealth; such phenomenal development of individual and national prosperity; such wonders of science, art, mechanical invention, and commercial greatness; such enormous discoveries of mineral treasures; such superabundance of agricultural resources, as to amaze the very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet it is said by some persons, because of the revolution of 1776, that this phenomenal offspring of England, whose similarity of speech, laws, literature, customs, complexion, manners, in fine, of everything vital, is so striking, should shrink from a closer union with her maternal ancestor; that overtures to push farther their onward march towards civilisation and peace should be treated either with indifference or positive scorn and contempt! And this revolution of 1776, which was in reality but a further expansion and propagation of the English race, and the principles of English liberty, laws, and government, we Americans are advised by a certain class to look upon as a barrier to closer ties between kindred people! This argument is so unnatural, so unchristianlike, so contrary to the laws of human affection; so opposed to our mutual interest and progress; so antagonistic to the good of mankind; so utterly unfounded in reason and history, that I doubt whether it does not fall by its own inherent weakness.

The Revolutionary War, in its outward form, commenced as a struggle for the right of representation, {85} and was afterwards extended to a demand for absolute liberty and independence. But, inherently, it really was the struggle of natural laws in aid of future growth. Although the immediate contest grew out of what was, in effect, an infraction of political rights and liberties, beyond all this were these natural causes operating to produce separation. The peculiar situation of the colonies, the immensity of their possessions, their remoteness from the mother country, the enormous difficulties of intercommunication, produced such isolation in space, notwithstanding much love of the "old home" and pride of ancestry, that an eventual parting between the two countries was simply inevitable.

The War of 1776 was a family quarrel, and bitter, as all family quarrels are. It had been brewing for at least ten years before open war was resorted to, and the history of those ten years, when closely studied, shows that natural conditions were accelerating and encouraging the formal demands which the colonies were to make of the mother country. There is no reason to believe that if the demands had been adjusted, the union of the countries would have been long preserved.

The truth is, that the son had arrived at full, mature age. The maternal mansion was too small for his energy and ambition, and could not accommodate his growing demands and wants. He threw off his allegiance to the mother country, and set up for himself in a separate establishment. It is doubtless true that the maternal rule, by being, in {86} some particulars, narrow, rigid, and unjust, accelerated the eventual demand for that broader national life which was opening in the domains of the new world, and I do not mean to deny that the arguments used by the colonists to justify their separation were not sound. Weaker reasons than those advanced, however, would, as circumstances were, have amply justified the steps they took to establish their independence. The inherent necessities were present, and reasons were easily found to warrant extreme measures. On this side of the Atlantic, in our historical treatment of the subject, we have confined ourselves in the main to the immediate causes and events of the unhappy quarrel, and it is a singular evidence of the candour and conciliatory spirit of the English, that their writers have, in most instances, accepted our version of them, and even enhanced upon them; nay, have even glorified in them as affording another example of the keen-sighted love of liberty inherent in the race.[10] Nothing is more complete than the national self-abnegation (if the expression may be allowed) with which the subject is treated by English authors. Might not we Americans at this time of day, in a spirit of equal fairness, find some apology for our then antagonist? As thus: that the struggle was conceived and precipitated by a handful of infatuated politicians and a narrow-minded King; that the pretext turned upon a point {87} of pure legality, such as has always been found to have a tyrannous influence over minds so constituted—a point, however, to which none of our warmest defenders were able to find a legal answer; that at every stage of the question it was contested by an opposition in Parliament composed of men of exalted talent and purity of purpose, whose speeches and writings on the subject are among the most precious gifts of political eloquence and wisdom, and who were willing to sacrifice their own political existence in proof of the sincerity of their advocacy of our cause; that a similar powerful opposition existed in the country, where the name of Pitt was still a charm to conjure by; that if we had been content to wait for a brief time, that opposition must have come into power, and, as in the case of similar reactionary movements in England herself, the broader doctrine must then have prevailed, and every vestige of tyranny, and every cause of disagreement, been swept away. We might ask ourselves whether, being human, we were altogether impeccable! England under the government of Chatham had valiantly come to our aid, and, after a vast expenditure of blood and treasure, secured this continent for her sons; and the subject of the partial reimbursement, in behalf of which she taxed us, was the staggering debt incurred in our defence. There was a measure of truth in this, and narrow and inexpedient as was the attempt at coercion, in the eyes of statesmen, it was just one of those errors into which ordinary mortals are most apt to fall. {88} The quarrel once begun had, of course, the usual tendency to aggravate itself by intemperate speech and action. As to antecedent conditions, let comparison be made between English, and French, and Spanish methods of colonial government. In them Mr. Burke, our most ardent and enlightened advocate, could find nothing to condemn. He commends the wisdom of the general system and "the wise neglect" of previous administrations. No one who has read the speech on "Conciliation," can ever forget the magnificent tribute to the rising greatness of the colonies, and to that "Liberty" which we possessed, and which made that greatness. Even the Navigation Laws, ugly blemish as they were, were strictly in accordance with the economic ideas of the time, and as such were introduced and accepted. Compare them, again, in their practical operation, with those of France and Spain. Mr. Burke deplores them, but "as our one customer was a very rich man" he remarks that, until a very recent period, they had been scarcely felt as a disadvantage. That seems really to have been so. Franklin, in that inimitable examination before the Committee of the House of Commons, admits as much, and says further, that, in his opinion, those laws would not of themselves justify the resistance of the colonies. Upon the whole subject, in a conversation with Burke, Franklin confessed his fear that the condition of the colonies, in the new order of things, would be less happy and prosperous than in the old. It was about this time that the doctrines of Adam Smith were beginning {89} to take root, and it is certain that in less than half a generation the whole restrictive system, as applied to the colonies, would, notwithstanding the selfish opposition of the mercantile classes, have vanished like a dream. As to the kinds of government bestowed on the colonies, they were mostly of their own choosing, and in advance of the times. Mr. Lecky remarks of them that "it cannot with justice be said that they were not good in themselves, and upon the whole, not well administered." Locke, the friend of all liberal government, gave his genius and virtue to the elaboration of one of them. Penn's model of government was in advance of his times and in the forefront of ours, and it is believed that the Calverts sought to embody the ideal perfections of Sir Thomas Moore's Utopia in the Constitution of Maryland.

The truth is, that but for the natural causes impelling to separation, the whole contention might, and should, have been treated as a domestic one, in which, by virtue of the underlying principles of the British Constitution, all that was wisest and best would have triumphed, and there would have arisen out of it, for both countries, an edifice stronger and more beautiful than any which had gone before it. It was not to be. What remains to us now is the fervent wish that all that was evil in the controversy may for ever perish from the memories of men, and in aid of that wish, the consideration that, as we were the victors, to the victors belongs magnanimity, especially when the victory was over our own kith and kin.

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And in this temper of mind we may reflect that the War of the Revolution was to us, in certain vital aspects, unmistakably a blessing—it brought Union and the Constitution. Every student of our history knows how deeply seated were the diversities between the States, and what slight causes might have inflamed them into enduring antagonisms; how embarrassing such conditions were to Washington and the statesmen of the period; how, as a consequence, through what opposing forces the ideas afterwards ripening into the Constitution made their way. The Union and the Constitution, as we have them today, were, then, the direct products of that struggle. Without its impelling influence, it is more than doubtful whether they would have been realised at all. I can recall no instance in history where such peculiar results have been reached, and permanently maintained, where opposing passions existed and have been left to their natural operation. There has been some active countervailing impulse—some determining motive. We had such a motive in that war and reached the result, but even then only after "difficulty and labour huge." More fortunate, or more virtuous than the Grecian communities, after their heroic defence against Persia, we found in our successful resistance the means of security against internal dangers infinitely greater than any external ones, and along with them the opportunities of our highest achievements in the field of political wisdom.

In this capacity for turning to account a situation fraught with immense danger, do we not recognize {91} that our ancestors were in accord with their ancestors in similar situations? Do we need to be again reminded of the history of Magna Charta, of Representation and the House of Commons, of the Petition of Right, and of the English Constitutional System dating from 1688?

One other thought in this connection. The war which broke out in 1754 between France and England, was, in relation to us, a war essentially for the control of North America, and England unfalteringly sustained the colonists in that struggle. If France had been successful in that war, and had established her supremacy in the North American Continent, what would have been the fate of Americans? How long would have been deferred the establishment, by them, of a separate republican government? Would it ever have been established in its present form? The narrow escape the colonists had from the domination of French power can now be clearly seen by those who read the history of that time. The French driven out, there was nothing to counterbalance the drift towards independence.

I am sure that there are few, if any, Englishmen who, however much they may deplore the animosities which have been evoked out of that episode in our common history, would now wish to undo the results of the American Revolution. France looks with envious and covetous eyes upon her ancient provinces, Alsace and Lorraine, wrenched from her by a foreign power, but England regards with pride the development, accomplishments, and wealth {92} of her offspring, and, with genuine regret for the past, turns yearningly towards it.

In thus restoring the subject to its historical integrity, so far from weakening, we strengthen our side of the question. Why should we sacrifice any fraction of the truth when we have so little need to do so? Nakedly, under the circumstances, and free from all legal and metaphysical abstractions for or against, it was plain that the claims of the English Parliament did, practically, involve consequences that we might well regard as fatal to liberty, and, constitutional remedies failing, as justifying an appeal to arms. The conviction of our ancestors that nothing less than this was at stake rightly superseded all other considerations, and was as profound and sincere as similar convictions for similar principles, recorded in the annals of the race. The more clearly we obtain a view of the subject in its simplicity, the less will we be disposed to conceal, exaggerate, or distort its contemporary aspects, either of facts or morals. "It was against the recital of an Act of Parliament, rather than against any suffering under its enactments, that they took up arms. They went to war against a preamble."[11]

And yet we are likely to be told that one of the barriers against any present alliance between the two nations grows out of this Revolutionary War. If that event constitutes no impediment to England, why should it cause embarrassment to the United States? England was defeated and the colonists {93} established their government. Is this event, now shown to be a natural step in the expansion and development of the English-speaking people, to be used as an argument against their further progress? If so, why? The English nation does not put forth such a claim. Why should we Americans allow a spirit of hatred or prejudice to grow out of our own triumphs? In a sense England fought for union with us, and if the war of 1776 furnishes any ground against the present establishment of a union of feeling and interest between ourselves and her, how much more forcible would be the argument when applied to the present and future relations of the North and South? The results of that fratricidal struggle, by which the latter people sought to separate from the Union, have been fully acquiesced in. The animosities and prejudices which were engendered by it have disappeared, and the relations of the people of the North and South are solidified by new feelings of deep and sincere friendship, union, interest, and patriotism. The results of that struggle, unhappy, dreadful as it was, have proved to be of profound moral and material benefit to the people of both sections. The results of the Revolution of 1776 have been of like great advantage to both England and the United States. History is full of civil wars, of family quarrels among kindred peoples, in which the result has been, not separation of the parts of the community, but their better integration. Look at England herself; all her internal dissensions grew out of the same {94} principle, which, when established, left the people more firmly united, and on a higher plane than before. Indeed, as all national systems are based upon an association of families, it would be impossible to form any political society if past wars and animosities between them were not forgotten; and the same principle applies to communities homogeneously related, although technically separated. Look again at England and Scotland before and after the union!

The motive and reason for the unification of the English-speaking people is manifest, and certainly nothing is more unsound, nothing is more vain, than to search in the closets of history to find skeletons of past quarrels, battles, hatreds, and conquests, to frighten them away from their true duty and interests.

Examine the history of England before the time when the separate kingdoms into which she was divided were consolidated, and what do we find? Constant and bloody wars between them! And yet, the instant a union was established, and these different people became one, how quickly the old spirit of prejudice and hatred was buried in the grave of the past, and how joyously the people entered upon a new era of progress and national success! Assume that King George and the English Ministry bitterly tried to prevent our independence; take it for granted that England compelled us to go to war with her in 1812; admit that a portion of her people sympathised with (and gave substantial support to) the South in the {95} Rebellion of 1861. What then? Does it follow that these events, buried in the vaults of the past, should be brought out as arguments against the accomplishment of acts clearly for our present interest, conducive, if not necessary, to our future security and peace? The individuals who composed the British Empire when all the above facts transpired, are no more, and the causes which then operated upon them have also long since disappeared. A learned historian has said: "The God of History does not visit the sins of the fathers upon the children."[12] Shall men be less liberal—less forgiving? Why should we then reject the proffered and sincere friendship of our own kindred? Is it only among nations, and such nations, that "no place is left for repentance, none for pardon"?

England to-day, in respect to the individuals who compose it, is not the England of yesterday. She recognises the independence of the United States as the work of her own offspring; that which she once sought to prevent she now hails as a blessing. The past is buried; a new era is ushered in; new light illumines our purposes, motives, and acts. Through the instrumentality of a closer and quicker communication, we have become better acquainted, our mutual wants and necessities are better understood, the relations of each nation to the other are more clearly defined, and out of all these conditions we can plainly foresee that we have a common purpose and destiny to fulfil—which can only be {96} accomplished by a genuine fusion of the whole people.

Let the words of a poet, which have become a household possession of the English race, be applied in letter and spirit to the situation.

"I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widening with the process of
the Suns.[13]

These truths are happy "prologues to the swelling act of the imperial theme." The sublimest is now before us. The unification of the English-American people in the glorious mission of civilisation and peace is the next great preordained step in their national life. Diplomacy might have laboured in vain to create it; but neither prejudice nor demagogism can now thwart or prevent it. Who will stand forth to challenge or prohibit the banns of such a national matrimony? Let him show cause in the Court of Civilisation why the doctrines of religion, liberty, humanity, and peace should not control the result.

II.—RÉSUMÉ OF THE FOREGOING

I pause a moment to look back upon the ground I have covered—to sum up conclusions. I have endeavoured briefly to point out in the preceding observations the great historical landmarks which have been made by the English-speaking people in their march towards the twentieth century; I have shown the seven spans which make up the bridge from their infancy to manhood.

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We find them starting life at first as rovers and pirates, crude, unlettered, barbarous; great sailors; great soldiers; indefatigable, full of courage, adventure, and hope. They established separate governments in England, the Jutes here, the Angles there, and the Saxons everywhere. They absorbed into their own free system of common law all the abstract principles and the forms of procedure of the Roman law, which system had had a growth of several centuries in England before the Romans evacuated the island. We behold these tribes adopting Christianity. Then comes union between the kingdoms, with all the benefits which the consolidation of discordant and warring states produces; the growth of commercial power; the encouragement and development of their internal interests; the entry of the people into enlightened national life; the creation of England itself. Then follow centuries in which the nation at times seemed to go backwards, at other times to stand still, or, again, at others, to leap forward, with, on the whole, a steady social advance, until the consummation of the union between England and Scotland, so long retarded. From that period we behold the people making steady and sure progress in their national life. But long before this last-named event, England had started in the great work of colonisation, in spreading her people over the earth, with the consequent advancement of her commercial interests, and the dissemination of her laws, institutions, language, habits of religious thought, and manners. America was discovered, and she soon {98} claimed and held a commanding position on the American Continent, from which she and her children were never to be dislodged. Then followed the Revolutionary War, and the subsequent establishment of the American Republic—that marvellous political progeny of England. A separate government was created, with English laws, institutions, language, literature—everything.

What is more instructive than the review of the progress of this great race of which I have sketched the outlines, but of which, as I have said, the details are innumerable? Are the Anglo-Saxons to be trusted? Are they worthy of belief when they assert that their purpose in fusion is to secure the establishment of civilisation, and the maintenance of all the best interests of mankind? Are they the proper custodians of liberty and happiness, of "peace and good will"? Do not judge them by any single, isolated fact in their history, but, adapting your views to a philosophical consideration of the subject as a whole, ask yourself, upon your moral responsibility, what other or better guarantee for the attainment of the ends proposed is afforded you than the history of their race.

[1] Green's History of the English People, vol. i., pp. 7-8.

[2] See Article on "William Penn," by Theodore McFadden, in the Magazine of the Pennsylvania Historical Society, for December, 1883.

[3] "England felt the full heat of the Christianity which permeated Europe and drew, like the chemistry of fire, a firm line between barbarism and culture. The power of the religious sentiment put an end to human sacrifices, checked appetite, inspired the crusades, inspired resistance to tyrants, inspired self-respect, founded liberty, created the religious architecture, inspired the English Bible."—Emerson's English Traits, p. 164.

[4] Green's History of the English People, vol. i., p. 89.

[5] Ibid., p. 90.

[6] Green's History of the English People, vol. i., p. 90.

[7] Green's History of the English People, vol. i., p. 90.

[8] Reeves, History of the English Law, Finlason, vol. i., p. 161.

[9] Blackstone's Com., vol. i., p. 128 et seq.

[10] A recent instance is Sir George Otto Trevelyan's American Revolution. Still later, however, is the work of Edmund Smith, England and America after Independence, a strong and bold defence of English policy after the separation.

[11] See Mr. Webster's speech on the Presidential Protest, Works, vol. iv., p. 109.

[12] Mommsen.

[13] Tennyson—Locksley Hall.

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CHAPTER IV

THE INHERENT NATURAL REASONS OR SYMPATHETIC CAUSES WHICH SUSTAIN A UNION, AND WHICH SUPPORT THE HISTORICAL GROWTH AND TENDENCY TO THE SAME END EXAMINED

I RECUR again to the resolution of the Anglo-American League:

"Considering that the people of the British Empire and of the United States of America are closely allied in blood, inherit the same literature and laws, hold the same principles of self-government, recognise the same ideals of freedom and humanity in the guidance of their national policy, and are drawn together by strong common interests in many parts of the world, this meeting is of the opinion that every effort should be made in the interest of civilisation and peace to secure the most cordial and constant co-operation between the two nations."

An inquiry into the practicability of forming a more perfect union between the English-speaking people involves the consideration, first, of their internal relations; and, second, their external relations to the other nations of the world.

What are the motives, influences, and causes which operate to induce the English-speaking {100} nations and colonies to form a closer union than that which now exists between them?

Of what real advantage is interfusion-brotherhood—union?

I shall endeavour to take up the subjects in their natural order:

I.—UNION NATURAL AS TO TIME AND PEOPLE

In the first place, then, the union is a natural one, both as to the time of its taking effect, and as to the people embraced in it.

In respect to the time: the question of a union has not been forced upon the race or dragged into public light at an unseemly period by the artificial influences of diplomacy or official negotiation. It has come before the people in a perfectly natural way—unexpectedly, and unaccompanied by any strained or superficial influence. It is the inevitable result of primary and natural causes, which have been ripening and developing, noiselessly and slowly, to this end. In a word, it is an evolution.

Passing from the question of time, the union of the Anglo-Saxon people is a natural one. It is an alliance of nations of one

"clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in all things nature tends."

It is not a union between nations speaking different languages, possessing different characteristics, laws, sympathies, or religious, moral, or political institutions. It is not a union between the English and {101} Chinese, or the American and Japanese. It is not discordant, grating upon the senses or feelings—unnatural. Nor is it an alliance for temporary purposes and gains, or for purely selfish motives or interests, or for offence or defence. Neither, on the other hand, is it a union of mere sentiment, a dangerous quality except when under the control of reason both in nations and individuals. It is a union which has become necessary in order to fulfil the destiny of the race—it is as natural as marriage between man and woman. It consummates the purposes of the creation of the race.

II.—OF THE SAME NATIONAL FAMILY

What are the different elements which constitute, or make up a natural alliance?

We belong to the same national family.

It is true that we do not live in the same land, but are more or less scattered over the world.

It is also true that we do not exist under the same form of political government. We are, nevertheless, one family, descended from the same stock, and attached to each other by the inseparable chain of political, religious, and moral sympathies. We are inspired by the same conceptions of truth, justice, and right. We are living separately, as families live apart who are too great, or too numerous, to exist under the same roof; or who have separated to extend or enlarge their wealth, influence, and power; and we have scattered ourselves over the face of the globe, faithfully carrying {102} with us all the original ideas and sentiments which we imbibed from the mother bosom.

I give first place to this element of family nationality when inquiring into the natural conditions which impel a union between the English-speaking people. England is the mother country; the United States, Canada, Australia, and the other colonies are her legitimate offspring. We are direct descendants of England. We, citizens of the United States, are her greatest and most direct offspring. When we separated from her, we took her language, her laws, her morals, her religion, her literature, with us; in fact, we left nothing of value behind us. In a word, we are so strongly marked with her lineaments, that it is impossible, if we wished, to deny her maternity. No matter whom our remote ancestors were previous thereto, it is certain that since the time of Alfred, we have a direct and uncontrovertible lineage. Our national pedigree from that epoch can be clearly, even vividly traced. But however interesting in other connections, I see no good or profit to be derived from entering into ethnological or philological discussions as to who constituted our direct or remote ancestors, or to spend time in tracing the origin and course of our language. Neither is it worth while to advert to the contention, that there can be no English-American alliance while we have among us so large an infusion of a nondescript foreign element. The same reasoning could have been equally applied to the union between England and Scotland. Such blending gives force to {103} the contention in favour of the mission of the dominant stock race, abroad and at home. The reasons for an alliance do not rest upon a correct or technical decision of these points. It is an undeniable fact, that previous to the reign of William the Conqueror, and for a limited time thereafter, the English nation was composed of heterogeneous elements, and that a great admixture of foreign blood was injected into the veins of her people. In truth, the vigour, character, and virtue of the English nation is largely attributable to the influences which this admixture of outside and alien blood has had upon it. To-day she opens her doors to foreign immigration with fewer restrictions than we do. The nations which have erected a barrier against the outside world, refusing to mix or mingle with strangers and foreigners, have sunk into final decay or ruin. Admixture of blood, within due limits, is an indispensable element to a strong, lasting, vigorous, national life. It is, besides, one of the duties imposed upon the highest civilisation, and necessary to its diffusion.

"The narrow policy of preserving, without any foreign mixture, the pure blood of the ancient citizens, had checked the fortune and hastened the ruin of Athens and Sparta. The aspiring genius of Rome sacrificed vanity to ambition and deemed it more prudent as well as honourable to adopt virtue and merit for her own, wheresoever they were found, among slaves or strangers, enemies or barbarians."[1]

In respect to the United States of America, it has been well and often said that her population is {104} largely made up of foreign elements, and that she is in this respect the most heterogeneous of all nations. The remarkable fact, however, is that this foreign element disappears, almost like magic, in the bosom of American nationality, and assimilates itself almost immediately with the laws, habits, manners, and conditions of the country. The foreigners who have immigrated to this country, and embraced, through the naturalisation laws, American citizenship, have come here, for the most part, to make this their permanent abode. In assuming this citizenship, their foreign prejudices, thoughts, and habits have become absorbed in their new political life and duties. As rain, falling upon banks of sand, leaves no trace of its existence, so these foreigners, swallowed up in the immense and busy life of this country, soon pass unnoticed and undistinguished, into the walks of American citizenship. This great faculty of absorbing and assimilating the heterogeneous and foreign admixture of blood, contributes to the wonderful success of the American Republic. All that remains of the foreigner's country, after he becomes naturalised, is a memory of the past. In one or another harmless form, through social, fraternal, musical, and other societies, he keeps alive the sentiments of his childhood and youth, and reproduces the images of old homes and old friendships. But his new political and social convictions are as fixed and immovable as rocks.

The loyalty of these new citizens to existing republican institutions is fervid and genuine, and {105} once here, there is no effort on their part to introduce or propagate the political habits of thought, or the institutions, of their mother country. They are not only content with the liberty and political conditions which prevail; but they become the most ardent supporters and advocates of our Democracy. In comparison to the number of immigrants who reach our shores, few of them, as I have said, ever permanently return to their own countries. But notwithstanding the great mass of foreigners who help to make up our population, it is very evident that the predominating element of the country traces its ancestry back to the British Isles; that there is more of her blood in the veins of Americans than that of all other nations combined. Illustrations of the strength of this remark can be found in all the walks of the political, civic, military, naval, religious, scientific, commercial, and literary life, of the people. What is it but another triumph of the race and its civilisation? It is not without interest to trace the ancestry of our Presidents, and of some of our prominent statesmen, military and naval officers, financiers, merchants, writers, and scholars. The latter classes I have picked out at haphazard—without invidious distinction.