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Ireland, which is very commonly the case, we are apt to forget all else, and both our relations with foreign Powers and those between ourselves and our dependencies drop into the background. . . . While home affairs are watched with the closest attention, and conducted by all parties with high skill, foreign affairs pass from periods of contented but ignorant calm to periods of discontented or violent, but often equally ignorant, panic. There is not, it must be admitted, the same consistency in the foreign policy of Great Britain which is to be found in the foreign policy of the autocracy of Russia, of the constitutional monarchy of Italy, or of the Republic of the United States.' *

I might multiply similar quotations, but, whatever the régime under which we were living, whether it was aristocracy or democracy, the men conversant with foreign affairs and responsible for our foreign policy agreed in lamenting the public indifference to these subjects and the public ignorance of them. It is clear, then, that the defect is not the result of the form of government. Chesterfield attributes it to the defective education of the governing classes; Dilke suggests that it is the fault of the government for not educating the electorate so as to fit it for its responsibilities. Each is right, but neither supplies the whole explanation. At bottom the ignorance and indifference are the result of our geographical position. The sea, which, as Shakespeare says, serves England

'In the office of a wall,

Or as a moat defensive to a house

Against the envy of less happier lands,'

by preventing us from close association with other nations and by developing certain qualities in our national character, created the state of mind which is summed up in the word 'insularity'; and from that fact the ignorance and indifference complained of grew up. Politicians have sometimes spoken as if the existence of the Channel rendered indifference to Continental affairs not merely natural but legitimate and advantageous. Mr Gladstone wrote of that streak of silver

* Dilke, 'Present Position of European Politics,' 1887; pp. 282-3. Vol. 226.-No. 449.

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sea which cuts off England partly from the dangers, absolutely from the temptations, which attend upon the local neighbourhood of Continental nations'; and he based on this conception too absolute a theory of nonintervention. Other statesmen, hardly appreciating the defensive value of the silver streak, have been too ready to intervene. Their point of view is well set forth in one of Cromwell's speeches :

'You have accounted yourselves happy,' he told Parliament, ' in being environed with a great ditch from all the world besides. Truly you will not be able to keep your ditch-nor your shipping-unless you turn your ships and shipping into troops of horse and companies of foot, and fight to defend yourselves on terra firma.' (Speech xvii.)

These two utterances represent the two principles which have alternately directed English foreign policy, but neither of them has ever completely dominated it. Our policy oscillates between these two poles. Examine that policy closely for some short period of years, and its changes and inconsistencies stand out in glaring relief. Look at it as a whole for three or four centuries, and its fundamental consistency is the most striking characteristic. Foreigners perceive this more clearly than we do. In sum,' wrote a French journalist the other day, all the perfidy of "perfidious Albion" through the centuries has consisted in demolishing seriatim every government and every people, which in a fit of megalomania has tried to treat the rest of Europe as a conquered country.' This is what was meant by the policy of maintaining the balance of power, which Mr Bright found so difficult to understand and so easy to denounce.

This continuity of action was the result of causes more permanent and more powerful than the will of the particular men who have from time to time directed English policy. We do not make foreign policy,' said a contemporary statesman; "foreign policy grows.' Take any period of British history you like, and examination of it reveals the truth of this axiom. In order to understand the policy of Great Britain, one must

*G. Hervé, Après la Marne,' p. 260.

begin by studying the condition of Europe, by understanding what Chesterfield called the interests, views, pretensions and policy' of the various Continental states. Exact knowledge of these facts was essential to the statesmen who directed our policy, in order to enable them to adapt the plans they employed to the conditions of the sphere in which they worked. While the possibility or impossibility of attaining their aims depended on European conditions, the relations of England with Continental Powers were determined in the long run by another series of conditions which kings and ministers might for a moment neglect but in the end had to conform to. The permanent interests of England underlay English policy and dictated throughout its main objects. Those interests might be political in their character. For instance, the union of the three kingdoms, England, Scotland and Ireland, into one state was for centuries the dominant motive of English governors. As France during the Middle Ages and in the 16th century strove to prevent the attempts of England to secure the control of Scotland, this involved repeated collisions with France. As Spain, after the Reformation, supported the Irish Catholics in the attempt to shake off the rule of England, lasting hostility between England and Spain was the result. Another traditional aim, pursued with equal persistency, was to prevent the coasts opposite our shores from being used as a basis for attacks upon England; and this led us into contests with Spain and France for the defence of Holland or the Netherlands.

A second set of interests was economic rather than political. The desire to obtain a share in the trade of the East and to establish colonies in America was another dominant motive of British policy. During the 17th century it brought us into collision successively with Spain, with Holland and with France; during the 18th it led to several wars in which both France and Spain were allied against us, and finally to a war with all three Powers at once. Again, commercial reasons made the necessity of defending Portuguese independence against Spain one of the axioms of British policy, and the preservation of free access to the Baltic another. Taken together, these permanent political and economic factors made up what 17th-century pamphleteers called 'the

interest of England.' A third factor was public opinion, which, in countries like England and Holland, exerted real influence. During the first part of the 17th century English opinion was mainly dominated by the religious sympathies of the nation; at its close, commercial motives were taking their place, or rather had taken it. To trace the origin and growth of changes in public opinion as revealed in parliamentary debates, pamphlets, newspapers and literature is as necessary to the student of our foreign policy as reading the despatches of ambassadors or the articles of treaties.

There is yet a fourth factor which has to be taken into account in tracing the history of our foreign relations, namely, the personal factor. What share had the will of the sovereign, or the minister to whom he entrusted power, in determining them? It is obvious, considering the form of government then in existence, that during the 17th century the power of the monarch to direct our foreign policy was greater than it is now, and that of his ministers less. But his freedom of action was restricted not merely by the conditions of Europe, but by the traditional principles and economic interests already mentioned and by the pressure of public opinion. In quiet times he might set aside the traditions, neglect the interests, and pursue a line of action which opinion condemned; but, when an international crisis arose, the pressure became irresistible, and he was forced to follow the course which the traditions and interests marked out for him. Thus the influence of the personal factor was real but strictly limited. It was a power to retard or accelerate the progress of greater forces, and, to a certain extent, to shape the development of the events they produced.

Turn now to the 19th century, or rather to the period which extends from 1815 to 1914, and examine its history in the same way. It is clear that English foreign policy during this period was determined by the same factors as in the 17th century, though their relative importance was altered, and its sphere of action was immensely enlarged. This was not merely due to the fact that Great Britain had become a world-power; it was due also to the fact that other European Powers had become world-powers too or were endeavouring to become so.

Whereas in the 17th century there was a general struggle for territory and dominion in America, it had spread during the last hundred years to Africa, Asia and Australasia. International relations became more complicated with this extension of their area and with the multiplication of the points of contact between the various Powers. In consequence, many of the old aims of British policy had become obsolete, while the new aims which replaced them were at first neither so precisely defined nor so generally accepted. While we were slowly adapting ourselves to the changing world, British policy was not as definite or consistent as it had been. Was it our interest to maintain Turkey, or to support the new states growing up out of the Turkish Empire? Was it desirable to let our colonies become independent states, or to maintain a close political connexion with them? On these fundamental questions there was during the greater part of the 19th century no agreement amongst British politicians. Besides this, the great change in our fiscal policy which took place about the middle of the 19th century produced other effects, so that there was no longer the general agreement as to our economic interests which had previously existed.

It is not surprising, therefore, that there was a period during which the foreign policy of Great Britain was hesitating and uncertain. De Witt, in the reign of Charles II, had complained of'une fluctuation perpetuelle dans la conduite d'Angleterre, avec laquelle on ne pouvait prendre des mesures pour deux années de temps.' The complaint was echoed by foreign statesmen during the third quarter of the 19th century. Towards the close of the century, however, the efforts of successive British statesmen to maintain continuity in our foreign policy, and the conclusion of the ententes with France and Russia at the beginning of this century, marked the return to a definite national policy.

For 19th as for 17th century historians the question of the influence of the personal factor in international relations remains the most difficult and perplexing problem which they have to solve. But the fundamental difference between the politics of the two periods is the enormously increased power of opinion during the 19th