Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen,

The history of the world is the history of the rise and fall of nations. The record of the dim past, so great is the distance from which we look and so scanty the materials of history, seems almost a kaleidoscope, in which one dominant race rises into greatness and strength upon the ruins of another, each in turn luxuriating in affluence and power, each in turn going to ruin and decay.

In the earliest period, when Europe was peopled by barbarians, we read of Egypt, of its power, its wealth, and its civilisation. Travellers to-day, standing in the ruins of Thebes and Memphis, view with amazement the architectural wonders of the gigantic ruins, and draw comparisons between what the race of ancient Egyptians must have been, and the poor Arab peasants who live in wretched huts among the debris of former grandeur. The Assyrian empire has also left a record of its greatness and civilisation. Their sculptures show a race of sturdy heroes, with haughty looks and proud mien, evidently the leaders of a dominant race. The luxuriant costumes, the proud processions, the ceremonious cortÈge of the Assyrian monarchs, all find their place in the sculptures of Nineveh, while their colossal dimensions indicate the magnificence of the halls and galleries in which they were placed. These broken stones, dug from the desert, are all that is left to tell us of a great and dominant race for ever passed away. The Persian empire came afterwards into prominence, and was a mighty power when in its prime. The Phoenicians, by their maritime enterprise and their roving and energetic spirit, acquired great power. Their influence was felt as far as England. Their chief cities, Tyre and Sidon, were at one time the most wealthy and powerful cities in the world, excelling in all the arts and sciences. To-day ruin and desolation mark their sites, and testify to the truth of the awful prophecy of Ezekiel the prophet.

The Greeks and Romans were also dominant races, but the small republics of Greece frittered away in dissension and petty civil wars the energy and daring that might have made Athens the mistress of the world. Rome, on the other hand, was more practical. The Roman was filled with a desire for national supremacy. He determined that Rome should be the mistress of the world, and the desire worked out its fulfilment. The Carthaginians rose and fell, victims to the greater vigour and energy of their indomitable rivals the Romans. After the fall of the Roman Empire of the East, the Mohammedan power, restless, warlike, and fanatical, quickly overran Asia Minor and Turkey, and threatened at one time the conquest of all Europe.

Three hundred years ago Spain was the all-powerful country. Her ships whitened every sea, her language was spoken in every clime, her coins were the only money used by traders beyond the equator. England, which was at that time the sole home of English-speaking people, was only a fifth or sixth-rate Power. To-day the British Empire is the greatest empire the world has ever seen, with 11,214,000 square miles of territory, a population of 361,276,000, a revenue of £212,800,000, total imports and exports of £1,174,000,000, and she owns nearly one-half of the shipping of the world.

In considering the causes which lead to the rise and fall of nations, we find that the first requisite to ensure national greatness is a national sentiment—that is, a patriotic feeling in the individual, and a general confidence of all in the future of the State. This national spirit generally exhibits itself in military prowess, in a determination of placing the country first, self afterwards; of being willing to undergo hardships, privation, and want; and to risk life, and even to lay down life, on behalf of the State. I can find no record in history of any nation obliterating itself, and giving up its nationality for the sake of making a few cents a dozen on its eggs, or a few cents a bushel on its grain.

The Egyptians commemorated the deeds of their great men, erected the greatest monuments of antiquity, and taught the people respect for their ancestors, holding the doctrine, “accursed is he who holds not the ashes of his fathers sacred, and forgets what is due from the living to the dead.” The Assyrians on their return from a successful war paraded the spoils and trophies of victory through their capital. They also recorded their warlike triumphs in inscriptions and sculptures that have commemorated the events and preserved the knowledge of them to us to this present day. The national spirit of the Greeks was of the highest type. When invaded by an army of 120,000 Persians in B.C.490, the Athenians without hesitation boldly faced their enemies. Every man who could bear arms was enlisted, and 10,000 free men on the plains of Marathon completely routed the enormous horde of invaders. This victory was celebrated by the Greeks in every possible way. Pictures were painted, and poems were written about it. One hundred and ninety-two Athenians who fell in action were buried under a lofty mound which may still be seen, and their names were inscribed on ten pillars, one for each tribe. Six hundred years after the battle, Pausanias the historian was able to read on the pillars the names of the dead heroes. The anniversary of the battle was commemorated by an annual ceremony down to the time of Plutarch. After the death of Miltiades, who commanded the Greeks, an imposing monument was erected in his honour on the battlefield, remains of which can still be traced.

This victory and the honour paid both the living and the dead who took part in it, had a great influence on the Greeks, and increased the national spirit and confidence of the people in their country. The heavy strain came upon them ten years later, when Xerxes invaded Greece with what is supposed to have been the greatest army that ever was gathered together. Such an immense host could not fail to cause alarm among the Greeks, but they had no thought of submission. The national spirit of a race never shone out more brightly. Leonidas, with only 4,000 troops all told, defended the pass at ThermopylÆ for three days against this immense host, and when, through the treachery of a Greek named Ephialtes, the Persians threatened his retreat, Leonidas and his Spartans would not fly, but sending away most of their allies, he remained there and died with his people for the honour of the country. They were buried on the spot, and a monument erected with the inscription:

Six hundred years after, Pausanias read on a pillar erected to their memory in their native city, the names of 300 Spartans who died at ThermopylÆ. A stone lion was erected in the pass to the memory of Leonidas, and a monument to the dead of the allies with this inscription: “Four thousand from the Peloponnesus once fought on this spot with three millions.” Another monument bore the inscription: “This is the monument of the illustrious Megistias whom the Medes, having passed the river Sperchius, slew—a prophet who, at the time, well knowing the impending fate, would not abandon the leaders of Sparta.” The Athenians were compelled to abandon their homes and take refuge on the island of Salamis, where the great battle was fought the following October, between 380 Greek vessels and a Persian fleet of 2,000 vessels. This action was brought on by a stratagem of Themistocles, whom no odds seemed to discourage. This ended in a great victory for the Greeks, and practically decided the fate of the war. Themistocles and Eurybiades were presented with olive crowns, and other honours were heaped upon them. Ten months after this Mardonius a second time took possession of the city, and the Athenians were again fugitives on the island of Salamis; even then the Athenians would not lose hope. Only one man in the council dared to propose that they should yield; when he had left the council-chamber the people stoned him to death. Mardonius, who had an army of 300,000 men and the power of the Persian empire at his back, offered them most favourable terms, but the national spirit of the Greeks saved them when the outlook was practically hopeless. The Athenians replied that they would never yield while the sun continued in its course, but trusting in their gods and in their heroes, they would go out and oppose him. Shortly after the Greeks did go out, and a brilliant victory was won at PlatÆa, where Mardonius and nearly all his army were killed. The Mantineans and the Elians arrived too late to take part in the action with the other Greeks, and were so mortified at the delay that they banished their generals on account of it. Thus ended the Persian invasions of Greece. The national spirit of the Greeks inspired them to the greatest sacrifices and the greatest heroism, and was the foundation of the confidence and hope that never failed them in the darkest hour. There were a few traitors such as Ephialtes, who betrayed the pass, and a few pessimists like Lycidas, who lost hope and was stoned to death for speaking of surrender. The lesson is taught, however, that the existence in a community of a few emasculated traitors and pessimists is no proof that the mass of the citizens may not be filled with the highest and purest national spirit.

The history of Rome teaches us the same great lesson. As Rome was once mistress of the world, as no race or nationality ever before wielded the power or attained the towering position of Rome, so we find that just as in proportion she rose to a higher altitude than any other community, so does her early history teem with the records of a purer national sentiment, a more perfect patriotism, a greater confidence in the State on the part of her citizens, and a more enduring self-sacrificing heroism on the part of her young men. Early Roman history is a romance filled with instances of patriotic devotion to the State that have made Roman virtues a proverb even to this day. Many of the stories are, no doubt, mere legends, but they are woven into the history of the nation, and were evidently taught to the children to create and stimulate a strong patriotic sentiment in their breasts. When we read the old legend of Horatius at the bridge; when we read of Quintus Curtius, clad in complete armour and mounted on his horse, plunging into the yawning gulf in the Forum to save the State from impending destruction; when we read of Mutius ScÆvola, of Regulus, urging his countrymen to continue the war with Carthage, and then returning to the death which was threatened him if he did not succeed in effecting a peace, we can form some idea of the spirit which animated this people, and can no longer wonder at such a race securing such a world-wide supremacy. The Romans took every means to encourage this feeling and to reward services to the State. Horatius Cocles was crowned on his return, his statue erected in the temple of Vulcan, and a large tract of the public land given him. Rome was filled with the statues, and columns, and triumphal arches, erected in honour of great services performed for the State. Many of these monuments are still standing. Varro, after the terrible defeat of CannÆ, received the thanks of the Senate because, although defeated and a fugitive, he had not despaired of the future of the State. The Romans, like the English, never knew when they were beaten, and disaster rarely inclined them to make peace. They did not look upon Carthage, their neighbour to the south, as their natural market, not at least to the extent of inducing them to give up their nationality in the hope of getting rich by trading with that community, and yet history leads us to believe that Carthage was at one time very wealthy and prosperous. No, the national sentiment was the dominant idea.

Even the Romans, however, had traitors, for we read that Brutus ordered the execution of his own sons for treason. Catiline also conspired against the State; of course his character was not good; he was said to be guilty of almost every crime in the calendar, but when you are picking out specimen traitors it is difficult to be fastidious about their personal character. The national spirit of the race, however, easily overcame all the bad influences of the disloyal, and it was only when this sentiment died out, and luxury, selfishness, and poltroonery took its place, that Rome was overthrown.

The experience of the ancients has been repeated in later times. The national spirit of the Swiss has carried Switzerland through the greatest trials, and preserved her freedom and independence in the heart of Europe for hundreds of years. No principle of continental unity has been able to destroy her freedom. The Swiss confederation took its origin in the oath on the Rutli in 1307, and eight years later at Morgarten, the Marathon of Switzerland, 1,300 Swiss peasants defeated an army of 20,000 Austrians. This inspired the whole people, and commenced the series of brilliant victories which for two centuries improved the military skill, stimulated the national spirit, and secured the continued freedom of the Swiss nation. In 1386 another great victory was won at Sempach, through the devotion of Arnold of Winkelried, whose story of self-sacrifice is a household word taught to the children, and indelibly written on grateful Swiss hearts. The memory of Winkelried will ever remain to them as an inspiration whenever danger threatens the fatherland. A chapel marks the site of the battle, the anniversary is celebrated every year, while at Stanz a beautiful monument commemorates Winkelried’s noble deed. In 1886 the five hundredth anniversary of Sempach was celebrated by the foundation of the Winkelried Institution for poor soldiers and the relatives of those killed in action. In 1388 a small army of Swiss, at Naefels, completely defeated, with fearful loss, ten times their number of Austrians, and secured finally the freedom of Switzerland. A history published last year says:

A magnificent monument at Basle commemorates the bloody fight of St. Jacques. The national spirit of the Swiss, nurtured and evidenced in this manner, has held together for hundreds of years a people professing different religions, and actually speaking four different languages. In 1856 King Frederick William IV. of Prussia threatened them with war. The whole people rose; grey-haired old men and mere boys offered their services, fellow-countrymen abroad sent large sums of money, and even the school children offered up their savings, and there was no intruding traitor to object that the children should not be allowed to interfere on the pretext that it was a party question. Catholic and Protestant, French, German, Italian, and Romansch, all stood shoulder to shoulder, animated by the same spirit, determined to brave any danger in defence of the honour and independence of their country. The noble bearing of the Swiss aroused the sympathy and commanded the respect of all Europe, and really caused the preservation of peace. They have been free for 500 years, and will be free and respected so long as they retain the national spirit they have hitherto possessed. It is interesting to note that the Swiss teach the boys in the schools military drill, furnishing them with small guns and small cannon that they may be thoroughly trained.

Russia has grown from a comparatively small principality to an enormous empire, and as it has constantly risen in the scale of nations, so has it also been marked by a strong sentiment of nationality. Alexander, Prince of Novgorod, in 1240 and 1242 won two great victories, one at the Neva and the other at Lake Peipus, and so saved Russia from her enemies. He received the honourable title of “Nefsky,” or of the Neva, and the anniversaries of his victories were celebrated for hundreds of years. The great Alexander Nefsky monastery in St. Petersburg was built in his honour by Peter the Great. Dimitry, in 1380, won a great victory over the Tartars. Over 500 years have elapsed, but still the name of Dimitry Donskoi lives in the memory and in the songs of the Russian people, and still on “Dimitry’s Saturday,” the anniversary of the battle, solemn prayers are offered up in memory of the brave men who fell on that day in defence of the fatherland. It is hardly necessary to refer to the magnificent display of patriotism and self-sacrifice shown by the whole Russian people, from Czar to serf, in the defence of Russia in 1812, against armed Europe led by the greatest general of modern times. The spirit of the Russians rose with their sacrifices. The destruction of Moscow by its own people is one of the most striking instances of patriotic devotion in history. The Governor of Moscow, Count Rostopchin, burned his own country palace near Moscow when the French approached, and affixed to the gates this inscription: “During eight years I have embellished this country house, and lived happily in it in the bosom of my family. The inhabitants of this estate—7,000—quit at your approach. You find nothing but ashes.” The city was abandoned and burnt. Nothing remained but the remembrance of its glories and the thirst for a vengeance, which was terrible and swift. Kutusof, the Russian general, announced the loss, and said “that the people are the soul of the empire, and that where they are there is Moscow and the empire of Russia.” The magnificent column to Alexander I. in the square in front of the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg is a striking memorial of the victor of this great war. A visitor to St. Petersburg cannot fail to notice the strong pride in their country that animates the people. Now turning to England we find numberless proofs of the same sentiment that has built up all great nations. The brilliant victories of Cressy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, won by Englishmen against overwhelming odds, had no doubt exercised an important influence upon the people. The Reformation and the discovery of the New World exercised the popular mind, and a spirit of adventure seized most of the European countries. English sailors were most active and bold in their seafaring enterprises. They waged private war on their own account against the Spaniards in the West Indies and in the southern seas, and attacked and fought Spanish vessels with the most reckless indifference as to odds. The Armada set a spark to the smouldering patriotism of the people, the whole nation sprang to arms, the City of London equipped double the number of war vessels they were called upon to furnish. Catholics and Protestants vied with each other in animating the people to the most vehement resistance. To excite the martial spirit of the nation Queen Elizabeth rode on horseback through her army, exhorting them to remember their duty to their country.

“I am come amongst you,” she said, “being resolved in the midst and heat of the battle to live and die amongst you all, to lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour, and my blood even in the dust. I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and a king of England, too, and think foul scorn that Parma, Spain, or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realms.”

These noble sentiments show the feeling that animated the race, for no woman could speak in such a strain who had not lived and breathed in an atmosphere of brave and true patriotism. Elizabeth voiced the feeling of her people, and this strong national spirit carried England through the greatest danger that ever menaced her. The poems of Shakespeare ring with the same loyal sentiment:

Henry V. is as much a song of triumph as the PersÆ of Æschylus, but here again history repeats itself, and Shakespeare has to refer to the treasonable conspiracy of Grey, Scroop, and Cambridge, who

The three hundredth anniversary of the defeat of the Armada was celebrated at Plymouth three years ago, and a magnificent monument erected on the Hoe, close to the statue of the brave old English sailor, Sir Francis Drake, who did so much to secure the victory. The great poets of England have voiced the patriotic feeling of the country in every age. Macaulay’s “Armada,” Tennyson’s “Revenge,” and “The Light Brigade”; the songs of Campbell and Dibdin are household words in our empire, and I never heard of any objection being made to their being read by children.

The confidence of England in herself carried her through the terrible struggle with the French, Spaniards, and Dutch, in which she lost the American Colonies. Her patriotic determination also carried her through the desperate struggle with Napoleon, who at one time had subdued nearly every other European country to his will. While the English people are animated by the spirit of Drake and Frobisher, of Havelock and Gordon, of Grenville and Nelson, of the men who fought at Rorke’s Drift, or those who rode into the valley of death, there need be no fear as to her safety. Our own short Canadian history gives us many bright pages to look back upon. The exodus of the United Empire Loyalists was an instance of patriotic devotion to the national idea that is almost unique in its way. The manly and vigorous way in which about 300,000 Canadians in 1812 defended their country against the attacks of a nation of 8,000,000, with only slight assistance from England, then engaged in a desperate war, is too well known to require more than the merest reference. It is well to notice, however, how the experience of all nations has been repeated in our own country. We were hampered and endangered in 1812 by the intrigues of traitors, some of whom in Parliament did all they could to embarrass and destroy the country, and then deserted to the enemy and fought against us. General Brock’s address to the Canadian people, however, shows the same national confidence that has carried all great nations through their greatest trials. “We are engaged,” said he, “in an awful and eventful contest. By unanimity and despatch in our councils and by vigour in our operations we may teach the enemy this lesson, that a country defended by free men enthusiastically devoted to the cause of their king and constitution can never be conquered.”

The memory of our victories at Queenston Heights and Chateauguay are as dear to the hearts of the Canadian people as Marathon and Salamis were to the Greeks, or Morgarten and Sempach are to the Swiss. Why then should we be asked to conceal the knowledge of these victories won on our own soil, by our own people, in defence of our own freedom? Confederation united the scattered provinces, extended our borders from ocean to ocean, gave us a country and a name, filled the minds of our youth with dreams of national greatness and hopes of an extending commerce spreading from our Atlantic and Pacific coasts to every corner in the world. The completion of the Canadian Pacific Railway consolidated the country more than ever, brought the provinces into closer union, and inspired the hope that a great portion of the trade between the East and the West would pulsate through our territory. All these causes have created a strong national spirit. This feeling was dormant until the people became uneasy about an insidious movement commenced four years ago in New York, which, while apparently advocated in the interest of Canada, would have resulted in the loss of our fiscal independence and possibly our national existence. This was followed by President Cleveland’s retaliation proclamation, a blow intended to embarrass our affairs, and so to force us into subserviency. Afterwards came Senator Sherman’s speech, strongly advocating annexation; and Mr. Whitney, the Secretary of the Navy, threatened us with an invasion, describing how four armies of 25,000 men each could easily take Canada.

The newspapers in the States were filled with articles on the subject, and maps were published showing our country divided up into states, and its very name obliterated. As an instance of the newspaper articles I quote the following from the New York Commercial Bulletin, published in November, 1888, commenting on the speeches of Senator Sherman and Mr. Whitney. The Bulletin says:

The North American Review, one of the most respectable of their magazines, actually published an article by General Benjamin F. Butler, in which, speaking of annexation, he said: “Is not this the fate of Canada? Peacefully we hope, forcefully if we must,” and in the truculent spirit of a freebooter, he suggested that the invading army should be paid by dividing up our land among them. This was followed by the McKinley Bill, aimed of course at all countries, but especially bearing upon the articles where Canada’s trade could be seriously injured. This portion of the bill is generally believed to have been prepared with the assistance and advice of traitors in our own country.

In face of all this a lecturer in this city a few weeks ago made the following statement:

Among the people of antiquity there was a race that inhabited Mysia, a portion of Asia Minor, lying next to the Hellespont. This race was said to have been once warlike, but they soon degenerated, and acquired the reputation of being the meanest of all people, Mysorum ultimus or last of the Mysians being used as a most contemptuous epithet. The ancients generally hired them to attend their funerals as mourners because they were naturally melancholy and inclined to shed tears. I think that the last lingering remnant of that bygone race must have wandered into this country, and, unable to obtain employment in their natural vocation, mourn and wail over the fate of Canada, urge our people to commit national suicide, and use every effort to destroy that hope and confidence which a young country like our own should always possess. This small clique is working in collusion with our enemies in the States, the design being to entrap us into annexation by force or fraud. This threat upon our country’s life, and the intrigues of these conspirators have had the effect that similar attempts have had upon all nations that have possessed the slightest elements of manliness. The patriotic feeling at once became aroused, the clergy in their pulpits preached loyalty and patriotism, the people burst out into song, and patriotic poems of greater or less merit appeared in the local press everywhere. The Stars and Stripes, often before draped in friendly folds with the Union Jack, disappeared from sight, while our own flag was hoisted all over the land. Battle anniversaries were celebrated, military monuments decorated, and in all public gatherings the loyal sentiment of the people showed itself, not in hostility to the people of the United States, but in bitter contempt for the disloyal among ourselves, who were intriguing to betray the country. This manifestation of the popular feeling killed the commercial union movement. No party in Canadian politics would touch it, and the Commercial Union Club in this city is, I believe, defunct. Its chairman, however, has not given up his designs against Canada. Coming to Canada about twenty years ago, his first mission was to teach the Canadians those high principles of honour of which he wished them to believe he was the living embodiment. His writings and his influence have never been on the side of the continued connection between Canada and the Empire, but it is only within the last year or two that he has thrown off the mask, and taking advantage of the movements in the States to coerce us into annexation has come out openly in favour of the idea under the name of Continental Unity. In his last lecture on “Jingoism,” given a few weeks ago, he made his political farewell. If I placed the slightest confidence in his statement that he had concluded his attacks on Canada, I would not have troubled to answer this, his latest vindictive effusion. But he has already made so many farewells that he calls to mind the numerous farewell performances of antiquated ballet dancers, who usually continue repeating them till they are hissed off the stage. Before three weeks had elapsed he once more appeared before the public, with a letter announcing once more his departure from the stage, and arguing at length in favour of annexation for the purpose of influencing Mr. Solomon White’s Woodstock meeting. Mr. White’s speech and his letter were the only words heard in favour of that view, in a meeting which by an overwhelming majority of both parties in politics, voted against the idea. He will write again and lecture again if he sees any opportunity of doing Canada any injury.

This Oxford Professor has been most systematic in his efforts to carry out his treasonable ideas. He sees several obstacles in his way. The prosperity of the people, their loyalty to their sovereign, their love for the motherland, the idea of imperial unity, the memory of what we owe to the dead who have died for Canada’s freedom, and the martial instinct of our young men which would lead them to fight to maintain the independence of their country. He sees all these influences in his way, while the only inducement he can hold out to us in support of his view is the delusive hope that annexation would make us more prosperous and wealthy. How getting a market among our competitors, who produce everything we sell and are our rivals everywhere, would enrich us is a difficult point to maintain, and as his forte is destruction and not construction, his main efforts are devoted to attacking all that stands in his way. Without the same ability, he seems desirous of playing the part of a second Tom Paine in a new revolution, hoping to stab the mother country, and rob her empire of half a continent, as did that other renegade whose example he tries to imitate. He never loses an opportunity to make Canadians dissatisfied with their lot, trying to make us believe that we are in a hopeless state, while in reality we are exceedingly prosperous. In England he poses as a Liberal Unionist, which gives him a standpoint in that country from which he can attack Canada to the greatest advantage. His book on the Canadian question was evidently written for the purpose of damaging this country in England. One of his very few sympathisers said to me with a chuckle, “It will stop emigration to Canada for five years.” I need not devote time to this, however. Principal Grant has exposed its inaccuracies and unfairness, and proved that this prophet of honour has been guilty of misrepresentations that would shame a fourth-rate Yankee politician.

In the London Anti-Jacobin this summer he tells the English people to turn their attention to Africa, to India, and to Egypt, that there they have fields for achievement, and that other fields may be opened when the Turkish empire passes away, and asks the English people why they should cling to a merely nominal dominion. He evidently longs to see Englishmen, and English treasure and English enterprise given to assist and develop India, Africa, Egypt, or Turkey, anywhere except Canada, which has given him a home and treated him with a forbearance and courtesy unparalleled. The vindictive malignancy of this suggestion to the Anti-Jacobin is manifest. He sees that emigration to the magnificent wheat fields of our North-West will help and strengthen Canada, and so he decries Canada in his book and writes to English journals endeavouring to divert English enterprise and capital to countries inhabited by alien races about whose affairs and possibilities he knows nothing. These are instances of his systematic intrigues against the prosperity of Canada. In February last, to attack the innate loyalty of the people, he delivered to an organisation of young men in this city a lecture on “Loyalty.” The whole aim of the lecture was to throw ridicule upon the very idea. A few men of bad character, who had claimed to be loyal, were quoted to insinuate that loyalty was synonymous with vice. As I have in my lecture on the “United Empire Loyalists” sufficiently answered him on this point, I will pass on to the next which was on “Aristocracy.” The object of this lecture was to discredit aristocracy, to show that the aristocracy belong to England and to the Empire, and to try to arouse the democratic instincts of a democratic country like ours against British connection. To weaken, if possible, the natural feeling of the people towards the land of their ancestors. His last lecture, on “Jingoism,” is the one I principally wish to deal with, as it is aimed at the other influences, which this Mysian desires to weaken in furtherance of his traitorous plans. The main object is to strike at our national spirit, at the evidences of it, and at the causes which increase and nourish this sentiment. He combines in a few words what he objects to: “Hoisting of flags, chanting martial songs, celebration of battle anniversaries, erection of military monuments, decoration of patriotic graves, arming and reviewing the very children in our public schools.” In his elegant way he says: “If Jingoism finds itself in need of all these stimulants, we shall begin to think it must be sick.” As a matter of fact, it is these manifestations of a Canadian national spirit that make him sick, to use his own elegant phrase. He says, “Jingoism” originated in the music halls of London. No feeling could have originated in that way in Canada. We have neither the music halls nor the class of population he refers to. With his usual inaccuracy and want of appreciation of historical teaching he fails to see that the national spirit in Canada has shown itself in exactly the same way as the same feeling has been exhibited in all great nations in all ages, and has been evoked by the same cause, viz. national danger. He speaks of protectionism coming back to us from the tomb of mediÆval ignorance, forgetting that he helped to resurrect it in 1878 and gave the influence of his pen and voice to put that principle in power. The volunteer movement, that embodiment of the martial instinct of our race, the outcome of the manly feeling of our youth to be willing to fight for the freedom and autonomy of their native land is another great element that stands in the way of the little gang of conspirators, and so our lecturer attacks the whole force. As we have no standing army, he praises the regular soldiers, so as by innuendo the more forcibly to insult our volunteers; insinuates that it is something feminine in the character of our people that induces them to flirt with the scarlet and coquette with the steel. This historian says the volunteer movement in England was no pastime, it was a serious effort to meet a threatened danger; but, unfortunately for his argument, the danger never came to anything. And yet he ought to know that volunteers in England have never seen a shot fired in anger for over two hundred years, and that he was speaking to the citizens of a city, that have seen in every generation since it was founded dead comrades brought home for burial who had died in action for their country. The loss of life and the hardships of the North-west campaign, the exposure to the bitter cold of winter storms, and the other sufferings of our Toronto lads on the north shore trip, of course, were only pastime, while the parading in the parks and commons of England, in the long summer evenings, has been a serious effort. The erection of a monument at Lundy’s Lane, unless it included honouring the aggressors who fought against us and tried to wrest from us our country, is described as “the meanness of unslaked hatred.” Are the monuments all over England, France, Germany, Russia, Switzerland, Rome, Greece and the United States all evidences of “the meanness of unslaked hatred”? They have never hitherto been looked at in that light. The professor, however, considering how he is always treating a country that has used him far better than he ever deserved, should be a first-class authority on the meanness of unslaked and unfounded hatred. After twenty-five years the people of Toronto decorated the monument in honour of their dead volunteers, who died in defence of Canada in 1866. There was not one word of swagger or fanfaronade, simply an honouring of the memory of the dead, and pointing out the lesson it taught to the living to be true to their country. This is the cause of a sneer from this man, who seems to forget that those who fell in 1866 died for Canada. What more could man do than give up his life in defence of his country? And yet we, the people of Toronto, have to submit to these insults to the memory of our dead fellow-citizens. An earnest protest is also made against teaching patriotism to our children in the public schools, making them nurseries, as he says, of party passion. Of all the many instances of the false arguments and barefaced impertinence of this stranger, this is the worst. What party in this country is disloyal? What party is not interested in Canadian patriotism? A few strangers, some like the Athenian Eschines, believed to be in the pay of the enemy, some actuated only by natural malignity, are trying to destroy Canada, and find the patriotic spirit of our people in the way. These men have tried to hang on to the outskirts of a great and loyal party, and by the ill odour which attaches to them have injured the party, which longs to be quit of them. When Goldwin Smith’s letter was read at the Woodstock meeting another letter from the foremost Liberal leader in Canada was there advising the Liberal party to be true to its fidelity to the old flag, to vote down the resolutions of the conspirators, and to show that we were prepared to sacrifice something to retain the allegiance of this great Dominion to the sovereign we love. I have never referred to this question without vouching for the loyalty of the great body of the Liberal party, and especially for the loyalty of my old leaders, the Hon. George Brown, Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. Blake and Mr. Mowat. And Mr. Mowat voiced the feeling of all true Canadians, for, thank God, this has not yet become a party question. As is done in Switzerland, and as is universally done in the United States—and all honour to them for it—all parties will unite to teach our children to honour our own flag, to sing our own songs, to celebrate the anniversaries of our own battles, to learn our own history, and will endeavour to inspire them with a national spirit and a confidence in our future. In all this, remember that we do not want war. It is the last thing anyone wants. These intrigues between traitors here and enemies in the States may betray us into war, but if it comes, it will not be the fault of the Canadian people, or the great mass of the right-thinking people of the United States. We only want to be let alone. We have everything a nation requires, we have an immense territory and resources, we are as free as air, with as good institutions as any country in the world. We do not wish to lose our nationality or to join a country for mere mercenary considerations where, in addition to a thousand other disadvantages, we would have to pay more as our share of the pension fund alone than the whole interest on our present national debt. We have nothing whatever to fight for; we don’t even require their market unless we can get it on equal and honourable terms. We do not intend, as some advise, to kneel down in the gutter in front of our neighbour’s place of business, and put up our hands and blubber and beg him to trade with us. Such a course would be humiliating to the self-respect of a professional tramp. A war could do us no good—could give us no advantage we do not now possess, save that it would rid us of our traitors. It would be a fearful struggle, and, no matter how successful we might be, would bring untold loss and suffering upon our people. This professor of history, who asks if we want war, ought to know that every attempt in the past to carry out his views has resulted in bloodshed. In 1775 our people fought against the idea. In 1812 they fought again in the same cause. In 1837, in spite of real grievances, all was forgotten in the loyalty of the Canadians, and once more by bloodshed the feeling of the people was manifested. On the 27th October, 1874, the Globe editorially told him that what he was advocating simply meant revolution, and yet this man who is taking a course that he knows leads in the direction of war and bloodshed has the impudence to charge loyal men who are working in the opposite direction with wanting war.

The Swiss have for 500 years celebrated their battle anniversaries and honoured their flag and taught patriotism and military drill to their children. Their whole male population is drilled, and yet no one charges them with being an aggressive or “jingo” race; no one ever dreams that they desire war. It is a fallacious and childish argument to say that this kind of national spirit in itself indicates an aggressive feeling. If so, the United States must be a most aggressive race, for no country waves her flag more persistently with cause or without; no country more generally decorates the graves of her dead soldiers, and no country is erecting so many military monuments, and I respect them for it. By all means let us live on friendly terms with our neighbours, but certainly no people would despise us as much as they would were all Canadians so cowardly and contemptible as some sojourners here wish us to be.

The census returns seem to cause great satisfaction to our enemies. The progress has not been as fast as some could wish, and the exodus of our people is much talked of. The only trouble I find is that the exodus is not as extensive as it should be. The man who cannot get on here, or who is dissatisfied with Canada or her institutions, is right to go to the country he likes best. It does not cost much to go, and, if he wishes, by all means let him go. The man to be despised is he who, dissatisfied here, remains here, and, using the vantage ground of residence in the country, exerts every effort to injure and destroy it. If a few of this class would join the exodus, instead of doing all they can to increase it, it would be a blessing, and in the end increase materially both our population and our prosperity. Strength does not consist so much in numbers as in quality. When Hannibal was crossing into Italy he called for volunteers to stay behind to garrison some posts; not that he required them, but because he desired to rid himself of the half-hearted. Some thousands volunteered to remain. He then considered his army much stronger than when it was more numerous, because the weak element was gone. Shakespeare, that great master of human nature, puts the same idea in Henry V.’s mouth on the eve of Agincourt, when in the face of fearful danger:

It is this very exodus of the dissatisfied from Canada that makes our people more united and determined. We have about 5,000,000 of people anyway, about equal to the population of England when she faced Spain, about equal to the population of Prussia when, under Frederick the Great, she waged a triumphant war against a combination of Powers of about 100,000,000.

The remarks about the copyright law are really too funny. The professor says that the anti-British feeling in the States is dying out, “and its death will be hastened by the International Copyright Law, because hitherto the unfair competition to which American writers were exposed with pirated English works has helped to embitter them against England.” Their hatred is not against their own countrymen, who, with the consent of the nation, have pirated English books, and sold them in competition against their native writings, but it is vented against the poor, innocent English author, whose property has been taken from him, much against his will and to his great loss. There is not a man in all the United States who would imagine so mean an idea. Space will not admit of answering one-half the misrepresentations and false arguments in this lecture on “Jingoism.” The utter indifference to facts and to the teachings of history, when they do not aid his arguments, gives this lecturer an advantage from which a more scrupulous writer is debarred. Take for instance his reference to the calmness and freedom in the States during the civil war. His statement that “civil law prevailed, personal liberty was enjoyed, the press was free, and criticised without reserve the acts of the Government and the conduct of the war” seems strange to any who remember the history of the time when Seward’s “little bell” could put any citizen in the northern states in prison without warrant or trial; when Fort Lafayette in New York harbour, the old capitol at Washington, Fort McHenry at Baltimore, and Fort Warren at Boston were filled to overflowing with political prisoners; when newspapers were suspended and editors imprisoned, when Clement Vallandigham, one of the foremost men in the United States, was imprisoned and then banished for criticising the policy of the Government.

He speaks of his sympathy with the “Canada First” movement, of which I was one of the originators and for which I chose the motto “Canada First,” the idea being that we were to put our country first, before all personal or party considerations. We began our work by endeavouring to stir up and foster a national spirit. Charles Mair wrote a series of letters from Fort Garry to the Globe in 1869, before the North-West territories became part of Canada, advocating the opening of that country. His letters were filled with the loyal Canadian spirit. Robert G. Haliburton a year or two after went through the country lecturing on “Intercolonial Trade,” and “The Men of the North,” and teaching the same lesson. W. A. Foster about the same time wrote his lecture on “Canada First,” a magnificent appeal to Canadian patriotism, while I lectured in different parts of the Dominion on “The Duty of Canadians to Canada,” urging the necessity of encouraging a strong national spirit in the people. The professor says he gave the movement his sympathy and such assistance as he could with his pen. He hoped, as did one or two others who injured us by their support, to turn it into an independence movement and make a sort of political party out of it, and it melted into thin air, but the work of the originators was not all lost, as Mair says in his lines in memory of our friend Foster:

The professor has in the same way been giving his sympathy and support to the Reform party, advocating trade arrangements somewhat as they do, and tacking on annexation, which they do not. His assistance is blasting to the Reform party, and nothing but Mr. Mowat’s manly repudiation of his ideas could save the party from the injury and damage that so unwelcome a guest could not fail to bring upon it. For I have no doubt he is as unwelcome in the ranks of the Reform party as his presence in Canada is a source of regret to the whole population. The last words of his lecture are as follows:

With this last sneer, with this final insulting menace, this stranger bids us farewell, and only does so, partly because he thinks that in his book and in his lectures he has done all that he possibly can to injure our prosperity, to destroy our national spirit, to weaken our confidence in ourselves and in our country; and partly also to disarm criticism and somewhat allay the bitter feeling his disloyal enmity to Canada has aroused. But we need not lose hope.

The instances I have given from the history of the past show that the very spirit that has carried great nations through great trials has manifested itself in all ages, just as the patriotic feeling of the Canadian people has burst out under the stress of foreign threats and foreign aggression, and under the indignation aroused by internal intrigue and treachery. This feeling cannot be quenched. Our flag will be hoisted as often as we will, and I am glad to notice that our judges are seeing that what is a general custom shall be a universal custom, and that where the Queen’s courts are held there her flag shall float overhead. All parties will unite in encouraging a national spirit, for no party can ever attain power in this country unless it is loyal. Mr. Mowat shows this clearly in a second letter which has just been published in the Globe. We will remember the deeds of our ancestors and strive to emulate their example. Our volunteers will do their duty in spite of sneers, whether that duty be pastime or a serious effort. We will strive to be good friends with our neighbours, and trade with them if they will, putting above all, however, the honour and independence of our country. In Mr. Mowat’s words:

If all this is “Jingoism,” the Canadians will be “Jingoes,” as that loyal Canadian, Dr. Beers, said in his magnificent lecture at Windsor. We would rather be loyal Jingoes than disloyal poltroons. If history teaches us anything, it teaches us that a sound national spirit alone can bring our native land to a prominent position among the nations of the earth; and if thus animated, what a strength this country will be to the British Empire, of which, I hope, we may ever form a part. Let us then do everything to encourage this spirit. Let all true Canadians think of Canada first, putting the country above all party or personal or pecuniary considerations, ever remembering that no matter what the dangers, or trials, or difficulties, or losses may be, we must never lose faith in Canada. I will conclude with a few lines from one of “The Khan’s” poems, which appeared not long since in one of our city papers, as they indicate the feeling that exists generally among native Canadians:

THE END

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