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:
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