en of war under Elizabeth, and
thirty-six under James I., counted a hundred and fifty in her fleet. The
English had three armies, 5,000 men in Catalonia; 10,000 in Portugal;
50,000 in Flanders; and besides, was paying L1,666,666 a year to
monarchical and diplomatic Europe, a sort of prostitute the English
people has always had in keeping. Parliament having voted a patriotic
loan of thirty-four million francs of annuities, there had been a crush
at the Exchequer to subscribe it. England was sending a squadron to the
East Indies, and a squadron to the West of Spain under Admiral Leake,
without mentioning the reserve of four hundred sail, under Admiral Sir
Cloudesley Shovel. England had lately annexed Scotland. It was the
interval between Hochstadt and Ramillies, and the first of these
victories was foretelling the second. England, in its cast of the net at
Hochstadt, had made prisoners of twenty-seven battalions and four
regiments of dragoons, and deprived France of one hundred leagues of
country--France drawing back dismayed from the Danube to the Rhine.
England was stretching her hand out towards Sardinia and the Balearic
Islands. She was bringing into her ports in triumph ten Spanish
line-of-battle ships, and many a galleon laden with gold. Hudson Bay and
Straits were already half given over by Louis XIV. It was felt that he
was about to give up his hold over Acadia, St. Christopher, and
Newfoundland, and that he would be but too happy if England would only
tolerate the King of France fishing for cod at Cape Breton. England was
about to impose upon him the shame of demolishing himself the
fortifications of Dunkirk. Meanwhile, she had taken Gibraltar, and was
taking Barcelona. What great things accomplished! How was it possible to
refuse Anne admiration for taking the trouble of living at the period?

From a certain point of view, the reign of Anne appears a reflection of
the reign of Louis XIV. Anne, for a moment even with that king in the
race which is called history, bears to him the vague resemblance of a
reflection. Like him, she plays at a great reign; she has her
monuments, her arts, her victories, her captains, her men of letters,
her privy purse to pension celebrities, her gallery of chefs-d'oeuvre,
side by side with those of his Majesty. Her court, too, was a cortege,
with the features of a triumph, an order and a march. It was a miniature
copy of all the great men of Versailles, not giants themselves. In it
t