tinies you preside
have just given a further proof of its benevolent sentiments
towards this country. The voice of the English
nation has been heard above the din of arms. It has asserted
the principles of justice and right. Next to the unalterable
attachment of the Belgian people to their independence,
the strongest sentiment which fills their hearts is that of
an imperishable gratitude to the people of Great Britain.

That was in 1870. Mark what follows.

Three or four days after that document of thanks the French Army was
wedged up against the Belgian frontier. Every means of escape was
shut up by a ring of flame from Prussian cannon. There was one way of
escape. What was that? By violating the neutrality of Belgium. What
did they do? The French on that occasion preferred ruin, humiliation,
to the breaking of their bond. The French Emperor, French Marshals,
100,000 gallant Frenchmen in arms preferred to be carried captive to
the strange land of their enemy rather than dishonour the name of
their country. It was the last French Army defeat. Had they violated
Belgian neutrality the whole history of that war would have been
changed. And yet it was the interest of France to break the treaty.
She did not do it.

It is now the interest of Prussia to break the treaty, and she has
done it. Well, why? She avowed it with cynical contempt for every
principle of justice. She says treaties only bind you when it is
to your interest to keep them. 'What is a treaty?' says the German
Chancellor. 'A scrap of paper.' Have you any L5 notes about you? I am
not calling for them. Have you any of those neat little Treasury L1
notes? If you have, burn them; they are only 'scraps of paper'. What
are they made of? Rags. What are they worth? The whole credit of the
British Empire. 'Scraps of paper.' I have been dealing with scraps of
paper within the last month. It is suddenly found the commerce of the
world is coming to a standstill. The machine had stopped. Why? I will
tell you. We discovered, many of us for the first time--I do not
pretend to say that I do not know much more about the machinery of
commerce to-day than I did six weeks ago, and there are a good many
men like me--we discovered the machinery of commerce was moved by
bills of exchange. I have seen some of them--wretched, crinkled,
scrawled over, blotched, frowsy, and yet these wretched little scraps
of paper moved great ships, laden with thousands of tons of p