Saint-Pierre Miquelon | Page 8

Society on the 29th April, 1880, by His Excellency the
Count of Premio-Real, Consul General for Spain.)
Translated by Crawford Lindsay, chief English Translator, Legislative
Assembly, Quebec.
How many persons in Europe and in America, even amongst those who
lay claim to a certain amount of knowledge, are ignorant of the very
names of those little islands, lost to sight on the coast of
New-Foundland, that colossus of which they are the humble attendants.
How many Frenchmen are there to whom their name is unknown, and
in whose minds they give rise but to vague and hardly realized ideas:
like unto the distant murmur of ocean waves which barely reaches the
ears of those who dwell away from the sea-shore.
And yet these islets are the wreck of an immense empire, which once
stretched from the Polar regions to the mouths of the Mississipi, the
great Father of Waters. They once formed but an infinitesimal portion
of that vast domain, which the sons of St. Louis made fruitful with their
labor and hallowed with their blood but which, after having opened up
to civilization, they allowed to be taken from them by a vigilant and
practical adversary.
These humble rocks under the shadow of the tri-color are inhabited by
quite a little world of fishermen rendered hardy by the icy breath of
Arctic breezes. This little corner of the world, which, at first sight,
would be deemed unfit for habitation is surrounded with inexhaustible
natural riches, by shoals of cod and herring, more precious than mines
of silver and gold, such as those which endowed a small country,
Holland, in the first place with the means of existence, then with wealth

and finally, during a certain period of its history, with power.
The flowery style of this introduction should not surprise any one.
Before the islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon, have passed all the
celebrated navigators who discovered or explored Canada. From their
waters France derives an important portion of its food supply. To their
ports Spain yearly sends enormous quantities of salt for preserving the
precious gifts of the sea. In their waters, during the proper season,
hundreds of vessels and fishing-boats and thousands of French
fishermen repair for the double purpose of collecting an ever abundant
harvest for their country and of training themselves in the arduous
duties of a sailor's life.
When we consider all this, what matters it that during one-half of the
year their shores are buried in snow or hidden in dense fogs; what
matters it that they are beaten by the thundering waves of that terrible
Northern Ocean whose green waters, laden with sea-weed and
wreckage of every kind, dash upon them and seem, in their wild fury,
to desire to wash them off the map of the world?
A livelihood is there provided, not only for the inhabitants, but also for
thousands and thousands who live beyond the Atlantic. The sea, that
rough foster-mother opens its bosom to all who fear not the never
ceasing motion of its waters.
There, are to be found none of those dreadful cases of hardship, those
famine-stricken creatures which exist in large centres of population, in
the very midst of all the resources of civilization.
The hardy and weather beaten seamen, have never any cause to dread
famine. A constantly renewed manna is ever rising from the depths of
the sea. It would seem as if God wished to show his power and point
out to man the vanity of worldly wealth by causing life and natural
riches to teem along these shores which, at first sight, seem devoted but
to misery and death.
* * * * *

Notwithstanding the above considerations, the choice of my subject
may have surprised you. Not long ago Professor Bell came before you
and related his personal experiences, his explorations of a field so vast
and grand as Hudson's Bay and its neighborhood, and it seems like an
abuse of your good nature to come and speak of three little islands
which, from a physical point of view, have no extraordinary interest.
But I have a special affection for them, which may perhaps be due to
the smallness of their dimensions. Canada, with its unlimited extent,
inspires me with a feeling of admiration. But it is easier to concentrate
our affection on a smaller object which the mind can embrace without
effort. Burke in his celebrated work "On the sublime and beautiful"
points out that, as a rule, objects of a grand or terrible nature excite
admiration, whilst those which are comparatively small and pleasant,
give rise to love.
As I have already stated, the Islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon are all
that remain to France of an empire which comprised the present British
Possessions in North America and