was that the strength of the Anglo-Saxon race lay in the fact that its
society, its government, and its habits of thought were eminently
"particularist," as opposed to the "communitarian" principles prevalent
on the continent of Europe. He was probably quite right. It has, indeed,
become a commonplace of English political thought that for centuries
past, from the days of Raleigh to those of Rhodes, the position of
England in the world has been due more to the exertions, to the
resources, and occasionally, perhaps, to the absence of scruple found in
the individual Anglo-Saxon, than to any encouragement or help derived
from British Governments, whether of the Elizabethan, Georgian, or
Victorian type. The principle of relying largely on individual effort
has, in truth, produced marvellous results. It is singularly suited to
develop some of the best qualities of the vigorous, self-assertive
Anglo-Saxon race. It is to be hoped that self-help may long continue to
be our national watchword.

It is now somewhat the fashion to regard as benighted the school of
thought which was founded two hundred years ago by Du Quesnay and the
French Physiocrates, which reached its zenith in the person of Adam
Smith, and whose influence rapidly declined in England after the great
battle of Free Trade had been fought and won. But whatever may have been
the faults of that school, and however little its philosophy is capable
of affording an answer to many of the complex questions which modern
government and society present, it laid fast hold of one unquestionably
sound principle. It entertained a deep mistrust of Government
interference in the social and economic relations of life. Moreover, it
saw, long before the fact became apparent to the rest of the world,
that, in spite not only of some outward dissimilarities of methods but
even of an instinctive mutual repulsion, despotic bureaucracy was the
natural ally of those communistic principles which the economists deemed