As to the international jealousies of a later era, they have not been without their influence upon the domestic affairs of the central State. Thus on not a few occasions the result of foreign diplomacy has been civil war within the boundaries of Uruguay, with consequences that were necessarily disastrous to the nation. The Banda Oriental is a land of sunshine, it is true, but one of shadow too, which is logical enough, since without the former the latter cannot obtain. Its metaphorical sunshine is represented by the undoubted merits of its inhabitants, its temporary shadows by the circumstances in which they have found themselves placed.

He would be no real friend of Uruguay who strove to show that the march of the country has not been rudely arrested on innumerable occasions. Indeed, were it not for the conditions that have prevailed for centuries, the actual forward steps that the Republic has effected would be far less remarkable than is in reality the case. The history of Uruguay reveals a continuous medley of peace and war. Its swords have been beaten into ploughshares and welded back again into lethal weapons ere the metal had cooled from the force of the former operation.

Each series of such transformations, moreover, has occurred at intervals sufficiently short to destroy utterly the hopes and prosperity of an ordinary people. Over and over again the Uruguayans have strewn the battlefields with their dead; yet during each interval they have continued to plant the soil with its proper and more profitable seed. An extraordinary vitality on the part of the people joined to the natural wealth of the land have been the factors by means of which the small Republic has brushed away the results of its wars as lightly as though such convulsions were summer showers.

The history of Uruguay reveals an admirable amount of pure heroism. Apart from the fighting merits that are inborn and natural to the race, the most unsympathetic reader of its past pages cannot deny to it the innumerable instances of self-sacrifice that were the fruit of loftier ideals. Of the many vivid battle scenes that were painted in too deadly an earnest against their neighbours and even amongst themselves, there are few that are not relieved by some illuminating act of heroism, for all the utter ferocity and courage by which these conflicts were wont to be marked. Uruguay, in fact, was something of a South American Switzerland; but a Switzerland bereft of the lofty peaks and mountain tops that assisted the men of the Cantons against the Austrians, endowed, moreover, with a more restless and undisciplined folk of its own. Yet in many respects the resemblance holds good, and for one reason most of all. The Orientales rested not until they had won their freedom. Not once but several times they were forced to wrest it from the stranger ere it finally became secure.

At later periods, too, it is not to be denied that the greater bulk of the neighbouring nations has stood out remorselessly between Uruguay and the sunlight. There have been times when the small Republic has been ground between the great mills of Argentina and Brazil. Thus her progress—steady and all but continuous in spite of the civil wars and revolutions that have torn her—has been achieved all but unnoticed and entirely unapplauded. Europeans, and many South Americans too, read of the Uruguayan battlefields and deeds of arms, yet they learn nothing of the undercurrent of industry that has flowed onwards all the while beneath the turbulence of the wild warrings. Nevertheless, this progress has been very real, and that it must become apparent to the world before long is certain. Even to the present day Uruguay amongst nations has remained "a violet by a mossy stone, half hidden from the eye." To the ordinary person who passes between Europe and South America, Montevideo represents little beyond a whistling station between the two important halts at Buenos Aires and Rio de Janeiro. In justice to the Banda Oriental's neighbour be it said that this ignorance does not apply to the actual resident in Argentina, and least of all to the dwellers in Buenos Aires. To them the commercial importance and general attractions of Uruguay and its capital are well enough known. This interest, however, is merely local, and fails to extend beyond the familiar radius of the pleasant little Republic's influence.

Commercially speaking, it is difficult to understand how the factors that have now arisen to drag the Banda Oriental from its undeserved oblivion can well fail in their task. The linking of the country by railway with Brazil, the influence that the imminent cessation of the North American beef exportation is bound to exert upon a stock-breeding country, to say nothing of the internal progress already referred to, must undoubtedly result sooner or later in bringing the gallant little nation into the light of publicity.

A fusion of warring parties, an end of civil strife, and a strict attention to the less risky and more profitable business of the day should follow in the natural sequence of events. Very hale, hearty, and jovial though he is, it must be admitted that the Oriental is in deadly earnest when engaged in civil battle—as is the case with all who pursue a hobby to the detriment of a more lucrative occupation. Yet the substitution of gunshots for the suffrage is not only expensive, but, from the polling point of view, unpleasantly devoid of finality.

The distinctions between the political arrangements of Uruguay and Argentina are curiously marked. For generations the latter country has been governed by a succession of groups that have respectively formed and dissolved without leaving any marked cleavage in the society of the nation. Strictly speaking, Argentina possesses neither faction spirit nor party. Uruguay, on the other hand, is concerned first and foremost with these very matters of party.

The history of the Colorados and the Blancos—the reds and whites—would in itself suffice to fill a volume. Probably in no other part of the world have the pure considerations of clan triumphed to such an extent over the general political situation. Until the present day the line between the rival camps has been as absolute as that between life and death. The position of either is immutable. Neither argument, mode of government, nor the vicissitudes of state are among the considerations by which they are affected. A man is born one of two things—a Blanco or a Colorado. This birthright, moreover, is to be exchanged for no mere mess of pottage; it is valued above the price of life itself. Such, at all events, has been the creed of the past, and to a large extent it still holds good, although the stress of modern influence is just beginning to leave its mark upon the cast-iron prejudices that are the relicts of another age.

At the same time, it must not be inferred from this that the Uruguayan is ignorant or small-minded. Far from it. Education enjoys an exceptionally high standard throughout the country, and a most liberal breadth of view is typical of the nation. This is readily admitted, and even insisted upon, by foreigners whose dealings with the native-born dwellers in the Republic have placed them in a position to render an accurate judgment. In internal politics, however, there are prejudices, considerations of clan, and points of honour that are not to be gauged from a purely commercial standpoint.