Nature is bountiful in vain, and climate lends an unavailing charm, while twenty-three States, unwilling to recognize the national power, set up their disorganizing pretensions, and chaos becomes chronic. The story is full of darkness and tragedy. The other instance is our own, where sacrifices of all kinds, public and private, rise up in blood before us. Civil war, wasted treasure, debt, wounds, and death are the witnesses. With wailing voice all these cry out against the deadly enemy lurking in State pretensions. But this wail is heard from the beginning of history, saddening its pages from generation to generation.

In ancient times the City-State was the highest type, as in Greece, where every city was a State, proud of its miniature sovereignty. The natural consequences ensued. Alliances, leagues, and confederations were ineffectual against State pretensions. The parts failed to recognize the whole and its natural supremacy. Amidst all the triumphs of genius and the splendors of art, there was no national life, and Greece died. From her venerable sepulchre, with ever-burning funeral lamps, where was buried so much of mortal beauty, there is a constant voice of warning, which sounds across continent and ocean, echoing “Beware!”

Rome also was a City-State. If it assumed at any time the national form, it was only because the conquering republic took to itself all other communities and melted them in its fiery crucible. But this dominion was of force, ending in universal empire, where the consent of the governed was of little account. How incalculably different from a well-ordered Nation, where all is natural, and the people are knit together in self-imposed bonds!

Then came the colossal power of Charlemagne, under whom peoples and provinces were accumulated into one incongruous mass. Here again was universal empire, but there was no Nation.

Legend and song have depicted the paladins that surrounded Charlemagne, fighting his battles and constituting his court. They were the beginning of that Feudal System which was the next form that Europe assumed. The whole country was parcelled among chieftains under the various names of Duke, Count, and Baron, each of whom held a district, great or small, where, asserting a local sovereignty, he revelled in State pretensions; and yet they all professed a common allegiance. Guizot was the first to remark that Feudalism, taken as a whole, was a confederation, which he boldly likens to what he calls the federal system of the United States. It is true that Feudalism was essentially federal, where each principality exercised a disturbing influence, and unity was impossible; but I utterly deny that our country can fall into any such category, unless it succumbs at last to the dogma of State pretensions, which was the essential element of the feudal confederation.

Feudalism was not a government; it was only a system. During its prevalence, the Nation was unknown. Wherever its influence subsided, the Nation began to appear; and now, wherever its influence still lingers on earth, there the yearnings for national life, instinctive in the popular heart, are for the time suppressed.

Curiously enough, Sweden and Hungary were not brought within the sphere of Feudalism, and these two outlying lands, left free to natural impulses, revealed themselves at an early day as Nations. When the European continent was weakened by anarchy, they were already strong in national life, with an influence beyond their population or means.

Feudalism has left its traces in England; but it was never sufficiently strong in that sea-girt land to resist the natural tendencies to unity, partly from its insular position, and partly from the character of its people. At an early day the seven-headed Heptarchy was changed into one kingdom; but a transformation not less important occurred when the feudal lords were absorbed into the government, of which they became a component part, and the people were represented in a central Parliament, which legislated for the whole country, with Magna Charta as the supreme law. Then was England a Nation; and just in proportion as the national life increased has her sway been felt in the world.

France was less prompt to undergo this change, for Feudalism found here its favorite home. That compact country, so formed for unity, was the victim of State pretensions. It was divided and subdivided. North and South, speaking the same language, were separated by a difference of dialect. Then came the great provinces, Normandy, Brittany, Burgundy, Provence, Languedoc, and Gascony, with constant menace of resistance and nullification, while smaller fiefs shared the prevailing turbulence. A French barony was an “autonomic government,” with a moated town, in contrast with an English barony, which was merged in the Kingdom. Slowly these denationalizing pretensions were subdued; but at last the flag of the French monarchy,—the most beautiful invention of heraldry,—with lilies of gold on a field of azure, and angelic supporters, waved over a united people. From that time France has been a Nation, filled with a common life, burning with a common patriotism, and quickened by a common glory. To an Arab chieftain, who, in barbaric simplicity, asked the number of tribes there, a Frenchman promptly replied, “We are all one tribe.”

Spain also triumphed over State pretensions. The Moors were driven from Granada. Castile and Aragon were united under Ferdinand and Isabella. Feudalism was overcome. Strong in the national unity, her kings became lords of the earth. The name of Spain was exalted, and her language was carried to the uttermost parts of the sea. For her Columbus sailed; for her Cortes and Pizarro conquered. But these adventurous spirits could have done little, had they not been filled with the exuberance of her national life.

Italy has been less happy. The pretensions of Feudalism here commingled with the pretensions of City-States. Petty princes and petty republics, restless with local sovereignty, constituted together a perpetual discord. That beauty which one of her poets calls a “fatal gift” tempted the foreigner. Disunited Italy became an easy prey. Genius strove in the bitterness of despair, while this exquisite land, where History adds to the charms of Nature and gilds anew the golden fields, sank at last to become, in the audacious phrase of Napoleon, simply a geographical name. A checker-board of separate States, it was little else. It had a place on the map, as in the memory, but no place in the present. It performed no national part. It did nothing for imitation or remembrance. Thus it continued, a fearful example to mankind. Meanwhile the sentiment of Nationality began to stir. At last it broke forth like the pent-up lava from its own Vesuvius, and Garibaldi was its conductor. Separate States, renouncing local pretensions, became greater still as parts of the great whole, and Italy stood forth a Nation, to testify against the intolerable jargon of State pretensions. All hail to this heroic revival, where dissevered parts have been brought together, as were those of the ancient Deity, and shaped anew into a form of beauty and power!

But Germany is the most instructive example. Here, from generation to generation, have State pretensions triumphed, perversely postponing that National Unity which is the longing of the German heart. Stretching from the Baltic to the Adriatic and the Alps, penetrated by great rivers, possessing an harmonious expanse of territory, speaking one language, filled with the same intellectual life, and enjoying a common name, which has been historic from the days of Tacitus, Germany, like France, seems formed for unity. Martin Luther addressed one of his grand letters An die