In the region here immediately under consideration, Great Britain entered the contest under conditions of serious disadvantage.  The glorious burst of maritime and colonial enterprise which marked the reign of Elizabeth, as the new era dawned when the country recognized the sphere of its true greatness, was confronted by the full power of Spain, as yet outwardly unshaken, in actual tenure of the most important positions in the Caribbean and the Spanish Main, and claiming the right to exclude all others from that quarter of the world.  How brilliantly this claim was resisted is well known; yet, had they been then in fashion, there might have been urged, to turn England from the path which has made her what she is, the same arguments that now are freely used to deter our own country from even accepting such advantages as are ready to drop into her lap.  If it be true that Great Britain’s maritime policy now is imposed to some extent by the present necessities of the little group of islands which form the nucleus of her strength, it is not true that any such necessities first impelled her to claim her share of influence in the world, her part in the great drama of nations.  Not for such reasons did she launch out upon the career which is perhaps the noblest yet run by any people.  It then could have been said to her, as it now is said to us, “Why go beyond your own borders?  Within them you have what suffices for your needs and those of your population.  There are manifold abuses within to be corrected, manifold miseries to be relieved.  Let the outside world take care of itself.  Defend yourself, if attacked; being, however, always careful to postpone preparation to the extreme limit of imprudence.  ‘Sphere of influence,’ ’part in the world,’ ’national prestige,’—­there are no such things; or if there be, they are not worth fighting for.”  What England would have been, had she so reasoned, is matter for speculation; that the world would have been poorer may be confidently affirmed.

As the strength of Spain waned apace during the first half of the seventeenth century, the external efforts of Great Britain also slackened through the rise of internal troubles, which culminated in the Great Rebellion, and absorbed for the time all the energies of the people.  The momentum acquired under Drake, Raleigh, and their associates was lost, and an occasion, opportune through the exhaustion of the great enemy, Spain, passed unimproved.  But, though thus temporarily checked, the national tendency remained, and quickly resumed its sway when Cromwell’s mighty hand had composed the disorders of the Commonwealth.  His clear-sighted statesmanship, as well as the immediate necessities of his internal policy, dictated the strenuous assertion by sea of Great Britain’s claims, not only to external respect, which he rigorously exacted, but also to her due share in influencing the world outside her borders.  The nation quickly responded to his proud appeal, and received anew the impulse