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will, however, prevent this prosperity, and compel the French Government not only to increase the debt, but to lay on new direct taxes, which will be popularly known as "the taxes for Prussia." The French peasant, already impatient of taxes to an unpatriotic degree, will regard this new contribution with loathing, as a tribute perpetually payable to the foreigner, and will be at the disposal of any Government which tells him that the way to remove the burden is to gain a victory over Prussia. He, the man in all France most inclined to peace, will welcome war as a possible source of pecuniary relief; and the strongest security against hostilities will be changed into a new provocation to undertake them. The indemnity, therefore, diminishes the indirect securities of peace without adding much, if anything, to the direct. Its receipt indeed may tend greatly to reduce the latter by removing the greatest difficulties in the way of a military policy at Berlin -namely, the reluctance of all Germans to bear taxation, and the reluctance of the Hohenzollern dynasty to encumber itself with debt. The German army can henceforth be kept at its fullest strength without money levied from the people; and an army thus self-supporting, confident of victory, and accustomed to war, is certain after a brief rest to long for new fields of enterprise. The indemnity therefore in its extravagant amount incites at once the French peasant and the German officer to war, and therefore diminishes directly the securities for peace, and especially for that kind of peace which commercial men desire. A truce, or condition of armed preparation for war, is worse for them than war itself, for it makes calculation nearly impossible and at last produces the feeling so general on the continent in 1869, that war itself would be almost a relief. In the interest of Germany itself, therefore, we cannot but pronounce the indemnity, like the demand for Metz, unwisely hard. It is the more unwise because of a feeling which is possibly sentimental bit is none the less powerful and widely diffused on that account,—namely, that the extortion of money, of actual cash, by battle is an unworthy use of victory. There seems to be no distinct reason why a victorious State, if willing to claim territory, should not also be willing to claim money; but there is no doubt that the instinct of mankind is against the operation. There is a sentiment about it akin to that which despises the mercenary soldier, though he is pursuing a trade always held in honour,

and not in itself immoral. For a State to go to war to get money would be considered infamous, and to exact huge sums of money as the consequence of victory suggests a belief that money may next time be the object as well as the accidental reward of battle. A flavour of huckstering is introduced into the relations between States, which degrades the character of statesmen, and is sure sooner or later to infect the character of the people. The country which pursues or allows such a policy is certain to be looked upon with distrust or even hatred, the wealthy everywhere feel that its policy is a menace, and Germany will suffer for years from the suspicion of all nations, irritated by the idea that she is not only the strongest Power in the world, but is willing to use that power in order to fill her Exchequer. No such idea would have been created by a demand for the repayment of her loans, say 45,000000l., and in exceeding that limit the German chiefs have, we repeat, been most unwisely hard.

From The Saturday Review. THE TERMS OF PEACE,

"THE policy of the Allies when dictating terms to France in 1814 was," says the philosophic Alison, "founded on a noble spirit-it rested on the principle of eradicating hostility by generosity, and avenging injury by forgiveness. The result proved that, in doing so, they proceeded on too exalted an estimate of human nature." The Germans of 1871 may comfort themselves by reflecting that they have profited by the teachings of history and have avoided the errors of their forefathers. They have not troubled themselves much with the principle of eradicating hostility by generosity. Having got their enemy down, they have made the most of the situation. Their estimate of human nature, or at least of French nature, is far from exalted. They calculate on France nursing the spirit of vengeance and doing them all the harm that may lie in her power. The one aim of the terms of peace is to make France enter on war with Germany for the future with the odds heavily against her. No other object has had any weight. There is no longer any talk of uniting to Germany the lands torn from her in past ages. The Germans of Alsace and Lorraine have so conclusively shown that they wish to remain united to France, that their conquerors know that,

men

in spite of common language and descent, | military frontier would have been of much they will have to treat them as van- more use to them than any preservation quished aliens. There is no affectation of of the balance of power could have been. moderation. The Germans might possibly They are taunted with forcing have had more, but they have got all they against their will to be their fellow-counwanted. The maximum of military de- trymen, and with violating the unwritten fence with the minimum of disaffected laws of advancing civilization by tearing population explains sufficiently why they French citizens from France. They are keep a fifth of Lorraine with Metz, and let threatened with fatal consequences to their the other four-fifths remain French. They own freedom, with a reign of Bismarkism, have not listened to the counsels of neu- and with a domination of Junkers. They trals in the matter, or to the pleadings of close their ears like deaf adders to all this, those who speak in the name of civilization and listen only to the voice that bids them and of the nineteenth century. One idea think of their own safety. They do not fills their minds, and that is, that France for a moment believe in the generosity or will make war on them again if she dare. peaceableness of France. They have seen In 1814 the Allies were very moderate Government after Government arise in towards France, and the desires of Prus- France, some of them upholding order and sia especially, for a good military frontier saving society, some of them singing the on the French side, were baffled because pæans of humanity and rushing into the it was said that the way to keep France arms of Universal Brotherhood, but all quiet was to appeal to her higher feelings, alike, bad or good, liberal or illiberal, and to treat her generously. Since then thirsting for the left bank of the Rhine. one generation of Frenchmen after an- Last year war was made on them in a moother, almost every statesman, and almost ment of profound peace, on a pretext so utevery political chief, has been hungering terly frivolous that the warmest partisans for the Rhenish provinces, and threaten- of France were scandalized. They have had ing Germany with war. Talleyrand, the chance now of making the French see Thiers, Louis Napoleon, have each in turn claimed that France, as if by a divine right, should be at liberty to drive Germans out of German territory if it happened to be too near France. By a turn of events, most surprising to Germans as well as to all the rest of the world, France has in a few months been so utterly crushed and defeated that Germany can ask of it what it likes. That which Germany asks is safety, and safety of as absolute and complete a kind as possible. At first the Germans fixed their hearts on Strasburg; then, as their views expanded, they soared to a longing to welcome German Lorraine and Alsace back to the Fatherland; now they have got much further, and think that the prize of prizes is in their reach, and that they have obtained a line of defence which will perhaps long keep back France from attacking them, and will certainly make the risk of attacking them very great.

The terms of peace have been imposed, not by Counts Bismark or Moltke or by the Emperor, but by the German people. They express the deep anxiety of the people to be once for all safe from apprehension on the score of France for years to come. They are told that France is now unduly crippled and humiliated, and that this cannot be for the good of Europe. They reply that they have first to think of themselves, and that last July a strong

that war with Germany will be a very serious thing for the future, and they have used their opportunity to the full. They wish France to take to heart the lesson of the war. Not to conciliate, nor to spare, but to teach the one lesson of fear, has been their object. This is why they have insisted so strongly on entering Paris. They wanted it to be clear that they could and would enter the capital of France. They were challenged to enter Paris, and they accepted the challenge. Their critics say that if they had been generous to France, had asked for no French territory, and for not much money, France would have loved them and blessed them, and never made war against them any more. This is exactly the point of difference between the Germans and their critics. The Germans feel certain that France would have made war on them as soon as her renewed strength would have permitted. There would, they think, have been a constant cry to avenge Sedan and the capitulations of Metz and Paris. Thinking this, they have done the best they could to make the chances of an inevitable war as favourable to themselves as possible.

If we are to judge of the terms of peace as outsiders may judge who, protected by twenty miles of sea, are in very slight danger from France, and can think, not of our own safety, but of the highest interests of mankind, we can only wish that the Ger

mans had displayed a magnanimity unpar- the Germans tremble. But Germany will alleled in history, and had elected to take no French territory, except possibly Strasburg-a fortress that has actually laid a German town in ashes and had been willing to abide the consequences. They would not, as it seems to us, have had much chance of "eradicating hostility by generosity." The French, if we may judge by the whole history of France down to last year, would have made war on them as soon as they thought they had a chance of making war successfully. Germany would have suffered for its magnanimity, but a magnanimity that counts the risks it runs is the highest and most ennobling of popular virtues. The world would have been a better world if Germany, relying on its own strength, had refused additional guarantees for its security. The Germans, however, in their intense horror of the miseries of war, and under the irritation of the constant restlessness and aggressiveness of France, have not been able to bring themselves to make so great a sacrifice. And being bent on security, so far as security might be possible, they have attained their object. A few months ago there was nothing but the Rhine fortresses to guard Berlin, nothing nearer than Ulm to confront Strasburg. Now the Vosges and Strasburg and Metz constitute an outer line of defence which it would task every energy of France to force. North Germany is doubly guarded, and South Germany is effectually protected from any such sudden invasion as was meditated by the late Emperor when he joined his troops at Metz. Nor is this all. France, if she provokes war, is open to attack, with no fortress of a high class between the German frontier and Paris. A war with Germany will henceforth be ten times as hazardous for France as it was last summer. Every Frenchman is now panting for revenge, and is full of what France will do in a few years. She will have a million of men ready to take the field, and then let

also have a million of men in the field, and
will have Metz and Mayence to guard it,
while France will be an open country.
However much Frenchmen may threaten
and talk, it may turn out that they will
think twice before they provoke a combat
under such disadvantages. And in the
same spirit in which the Germans have in-
sisted on having Metz and the line of the
Vosges, they have also insisted on making
France pay the largest indemnity it could
pay. The terms as to money no less than
as to territory are merciless. There was
only one question asked, and that was,
what was the very last farthing that could
be squeezed out of France? Eminent
financiers were solemnly summoned to the
conclave of negotiators, and two hundred
millions was scientifically ascertained to
be the extremest burden the camel could
bear without breaking its back. The Ger-
mans of course like the money for its own
sake. No nation on earth is more fitted
to enjoy a windfall of two hundred millions
sterling. But the primary idea of the
Germans in exacting the indemnity was
not, we are inclined to think, the pocketing
of this magnificent prize. It also is a
guarantee of safety to them.
A very
heavily taxed nation shrinks from war, and
France for the next quarter of a century
will be most severely taxed in proportion
to its resources and population. În time
peace and industry will make the burden
of the augmented debt of France felt as
little as the debt was felt as it existed last
year. But this must be a slow process, and
meanwhile France will be bound over un-
der the penalty of risking national bank-
ruptcy to keep the peace towards Ger-
many, while Germany, with two hundred
millions to make good its losses, and en-
riched by the industry and commerce of
Alsace, may count on keeping ahead in the
race, and entering on a future war with a
sounder financial system and a more solid
credit than France can hope for.

DOLCOATH MINE, near Camborne, in Cornwall, is in every way a remarkable exploration. The mine has been in constant work for more than two hundred years. Being first worked as a tin-mine the workings in the deeper levels were eventually suspended, because the miners came to the "yellows" (yellow copper ore, at that time of small value). The copper ore was subsequently worked at a very large profit. As

the mine increased in depth the copper disap. peared, and the main lode again produced tin. From this during the past year tin-ore has been sold to the value of 82,2031., and profit made to the amount of 27,3681. The alternation of tin, copper, and then tin again, which since the discovery in Dolcoath, has been observed also in other deep mines, deserves the careful attention of men of science.

Athenæum.

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'Neath August sun-rays, into molten gold,
And fill our garners with the beauteous store
That crowns man's labour, and rewards his toil.
March, with his stern, grand brow, frowning,
yet kind,

Front of a Titan; of imperious will,

King March rides blustering o'er dale and mead,
And with his chastening rule, prepares the way
For green-robed April, with her showers soft
The pure warm sunshine, and her opening buds
Of yellow cowslip bells.

And jocund May,
Crowned with white blossoms, scatters in her

track

Hawthorns all odorous, pink apple-blooms,
And all the gorgeous beauty of her dower,
That glads our English homes. So in our life,
Our truest joys must be from trial reaped,
And as March winds foreshadow April sun,
Our dross through furnace passing, comes out
- gold.
All the Year Round.

ADDRESS TO THE WOON OF BHAMO.

"I mentioned some weeks ago that the WOON OF BHAMO, who had interposed all manner of difficulties in the way of trade in that quarter, had been removed, to the great delight of the merchants concerned. I am sorry to say now that there are rumours of his return to his post, and that in conseOpinions are conflicting as to the value of these old quence mercantile affairs are looking a little down. trade routes."- Times, Indian Correspondent.

WOON OF BHAMO, ycnder far,
How I woonder what you are!
In those gorgeous Eastern climes,
In the columns of the Times.

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The joys that are on earth are counterfeits.
If ought be true, 'tis this: Th'are true deceits:
They flatter, fawne, and (like the crocodile)
Kill* where they laugh, and murther where
they smile.

They daily dip within thy dish and cry
"Who hath betrayed thee, Master, is it I?"

poet.

Quarles.

THE WORLD.

GREAT, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,
With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast-
World, you are beautifully drest.

The wonderful air is over me,

And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree,
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the tops of the hills.

You friendly Earth! how far do you go
With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers
that flow,

With cities and gardens, and cliffs, and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles?

Ah, you are so great, and I am so small,
I tremble to think of you, World, at all;
And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
A whisper inside me seemed to say,
"You are more than the Earth, though you are
such a dot:

This line may perhaps bring to mind a greater You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!"

Lilliput Lectures.

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