Geworden ist ihm eine Herrsoherseele,
Und ist gestellt auf einen Herrscherplatz.
Wohl uns, dass es so ist!...
Wohl dem Ganzen, findet
Sich einmal einer, der ein Mittelpunkt
Für viele Tausend wird, ein Halt.
—SCHILLER.
He is possessed by a commanding spirit,
And his, too, is the station of command.
And well for us it is so....
Well for the whole if there be found a man
Who makes himself what Nature destined him,
The pause, the central point of thousand thousands.
—_Coleridge’s Translation._
I
During the election (Nov. 23) Mr. Gladstone published his _Chapter of
Autobiography_, the history of his journey from the book of 1838 to the
resolutions thirty years later.(170) Lord Granville told him frankly that
he never liked nor quite understood the first book; that the description
of it in the new “Chapter” gave him little pleasure; that he had at first
a feeling that the less a person in Mr. Gladstone’s position published,
the better; and that unnecessary explanation would only provoke fresh
attacks. But as he read on, these misgivings melted away; he thought the
description of a certain phase of the history of the English church one of
the most eloquent and feeling passages he ever read; the reference to the
nonconformists was a graceful amend to them for being so passionate an
Oxonian and churchman; the piece of controversy with Macaulay rather an
exaggeration and not easy to understand; the closing pages admirable. In
short, he was all for publication. Another close friend of Mr.
Gladstone’s, Sir Robert Phillimore, told him (Nov. 29): “I am satisfied
that you have done wisely and justly both with reference to the immediate
and future influence of your character as a statesman. It is exactly what
a mere man of the world would not have done. His standard would have been
the ephemeral opinion of the clubs, and not the earnest opinion of the
silent but thoughtful persons to whom the moral character of their chief
is a matter of real moment and concern.” Newman wrote to him from the
Oratory at Birmingham, “It is most noble, and I can congratulate you with
greater reason and more hearty satisfaction upon it, than I could upon a
score of triumphs at the hustings.” The man of the world and the man at
the club did not hide their disgust, but Phillimore was right, and great
hosts of people of the other sort welcomed in this publication a sign of
sincerity and simplicity and desire to take the public into that full
confidence, which makes the ordinary politician tremble as undignified and
indecorous.
That Mr. Gladstone had rightly divined the state of public feeling about
Ireland was shown by the result. Manning put the case in apt words when he
wrote to him: “I have been much struck by the absence of all serious
opposition to your policy, and by the extensive and various support given
to it in England and Scotland. It is not so much a change in men’s
thoughts, but a revelation of what they have been thinking.” Heart and
soul he flung himself into the labours of his canvass. The constituency
for which he had sat in the expiring parliament was now divided, and with
Mr. H. R. Grenfell for a colleague, he contested what had become
South-West Lancashire. The breadth, the elevation, the freshness, the
power, the measure, the high self-command of these speeches were never
surpassed by any of his performances. When publicists warn us, and rightly
warn us, that rash expenditure of money extracted from the taxpayer and
the ratepayer is the besetting vice and peril of democracy, and when some
of them in the same breath denounce Mr. Gladstone as a demagogue pandering
to the multitude, they should read the speech at Leigh, in which he
assailed the system of making things pleasant all round, stimulating local
cupidity to feed upon the public purse, and scattering grants at the
solicitation of individuals and classes. No minister that ever lived
toiled more sedulously, in office and out of office, to avert this curse
of popular government. The main staple of his discourse was naturally the
Irish case, and though within the next twenty years he acquired a wider
familiarity with detail, he never exhibited the large features of that
case with more cogent and persuasive mastery. He told the story of the
transformation of the franchise bill with a combined precision,
completeness and lightness of hand that made his articles of charge at
once extremely interesting and wholly unanswerable. In a vein of pleasant
mockery, on the accusation that he was going to ruin and destroy the
constitution, he reminded them that within his own recollection it had
been wholly ruined and destroyed eight times: in 1828 by the repeal of the
Corporation and Test acts; in 1829 by admitting Roman catholics to
parliament; in 1832 by reform; in 1846 by free trade; in 1849 by repeal of
the navigation law; in 1858 when Jews were allowed to sit in parliament;
in 1866 when the government of Lord Russell had the incredible audacity to
propose a reform bill with the intention of carrying it or falling in the
attempt.
(M74) It was a magnificent campaign. But in South-West Lancashire the
church of England was strong; orange prevailed vastly over green; and Mr.
Gladstone was beaten. Happily he had in anticipation of the result, and by
the care of friends, already been elected for Greenwich.(171) In the
kingdom as a whole he was triumphant. The liberal majority was 112. When
the gross votes were added up, it was calculated that the liberals had a
million and a half and the conservatives less than a million.(172) After a
long era of torpor a powerful party thus once more came into being. The
cause was excellent, but more potent than the cause was the sight of a
leader with a resolute will, an unresting spirit of reform, and the genius
of political action. This ascendency Mr. Gladstone maintained for quarter
of a century to come.
II
On the afternoon of the first of December, he received at Hawarden the
communication from Windsor. “I was standing by him,” says Mr. Evelyn
Ashley, “holding his coat on my arm while he in his shirt sleeves was
wielding an axe to cut down a tree. Up came a telegraph messenger. He took
the telegram, opened it and read it, then handed it to me, speaking only
two words, ‘Very significant,’ and at once resumed his work. The message
merely stated that General Grey would arrive that evening from Windsor.
This of course implied that a mandate was coming from the Queen charging
Mr. Gladstone with the formation of his first government.... After a few
minutes the blows ceased, and Mr. Gladstone resting on the handle of his
axe, looked up and with deep earnestness in his voice and with great
intensity in his face, exclaimed, ‘My mission is to pacify Ireland.’ He
then resumed his task, and never said another word till the tree was
down.”(173) General Grey reached Hawarden the next day, bringing with him
the letter from the Queen.
_From the Queen._
_December 1st_, 1868.—Mr. Disraeli has tendered his resignation to
the Queen. The result of the appeal to the country is too evident
to require its being proved by a vote in parliament, and the Queen
entirely agrees with Mr. Disraeli and his colleagues in thinking
that the most dignified course for them to pursue, as also the
best for the public interests, was immediate resignation. Under
these circumstances the Queen must ask Mr. Gladstone, as the
acknowledged leader of the liberal party, to undertake the
formation of a new administration. With one or two exceptions, the
reasons for which she has desired General Grey (the bearer of this
letter) to explain, the Queen would impose no restrictions on Mr.
Gladstone as to the arrangement of the various offices in the
manner which he believes to be best for the public service, and
she trusts that he will find no difficulty in filling them up, or
at least the greater part of them, so that the council may be held
before the 13th. Mr. Gladstone will understand why the Queen would
wish to be spared making any arrangements of this nature for the
next few days after the 13th. The Queen adds what she said on a
similar occasion two years and a half ago to Lord Derby, that she
will not name any time for seeing Mr. Gladstone, who may wish to
have an opportunity of consulting some of his friends, before he
sees her; but that, as soon as he shall have done so, and
expresses a desire to see the Queen, she will be ready to receive
him.
(M75) One of his first letters after undertaking to form a government was
to Lord Russell, to whom he said that he looked forward with hope and
confidence to full and frequent communications, and to the benefit of his
friendship and advice. “There remains, however, a question,” he went on;
“you have an experience and knowledge to which no living statesman can
pretend; of the benefit to be derived from it, I am sure that all with
whom I can be likely to act would be deeply sensible. Would it be too
great an invasion of your independence to ask you to consider whether you
could afford it as a member of the cabinet without the weight of any other
responsibility?” Lord Russell replied in cordial terms, but said that the
servitude of a cabinet, whether with or without a special office, was what
he did not wish to encounter. “What I should have said,” he added at a
later date (Dec. 28), “if the office of the president of the council or
the privy seal had been offered me, I do not know: at all events I am
personally very well satisfied to be free from all responsibility.” Sir
George Grey also declined, on the ground of years: he was within one of
the threescore and ten allotted to mortal man. Lord Halifax, on whose
ability and experience both the Queen and Mr. Gladstone set special value,
declined the Irish viceroyalty, and stood good-naturedly aside until 1870
when he joined as privy seal. The inclusion in the same cabinet of Mr.
Bright, who had been the chief apostle of reform, with Mr. Lowe, its
fiercest persecutor, startled the country. As for Lowe, Lord Acton told me
that he once informed Mr. Gladstone that Lowe had written the review of
his _Financial Statements_ in the periodical of which Acton was editor.
“He told me at Grillion’s that I thereby made him chancellor of the
exchequer.” With Bright he had greater difficulties. He often described
how he wrestled with this admirable man from eleven o’clock until past
midnight, striving to overcome his repugnance to office. The next day
Bright wrote to him (Dec. 5): “Since I left you at midnight I have had no
sleep, from which you may imagine the mental disturbance I have suffered
from our long conversation last night. Nevertheless I am driven to the
conclusion to take the step to which you invite me, surrendering my
inclination and my judgment to your arguments and to the counsel of some
whom I have a right to consider my friends.... I am deeply grateful to you
for the confidence you are willing to place in me, and for the many kind
words you spoke to me yesterday.” In the parched air of official politics
the relation of these two towards one another is a peculiar and a
refreshing element. In the case of Lord Clarendon, some difficulty was
intimated from Windsor before Mr. Gladstone began his task. Mr. Gladstone
says in one of his late notes:—
Clarendon had already held with credit and success for a
lengthened period the seals of the foreign office, and his
presumptive title to resume them was beyond dispute. He was a man
of free and entertaining and almost jovial conversation in
society, and possibly some remark culled from the dinner hour had
been reported to the Queen with carelessness or malignity. I do
not know much, of the interior side of court gossip, but I have a
very bad opinion of it, and especially on this ground, that while
absolutely irresponsible it appears to be uniformly admitted as
infallible. In this case, it was impossible for me to recede from
my duty, and no grave difficulty arose. So far as I can recollect
the Queen had very little to say in objection, and no keen desire
to say it. Clarendon was the only living British statesman whose
name carried any influence in the councils of Europe. Only
eighteen or twenty months remained to him; they were spent in
useful activity. My relations with him were, as they were
afterwards with Granville, close, constant, and harmonious.
(M76) Of this cabinet Mr. Gladstone always spoke as one of the best
instruments for government that ever were constructed.(174) Nearly
everybody in it was a man of talent, character, and force, and showed high
capacity for public business. In one or two cases, conformably to the old
Greek saying, office showed the man; showed that mere cleverness, apart
from judgment and discretion is only too possible, and that good intention
only makes failure and incapacity in carrying the intention out, so much
the more mortifying. The achievements of this cabinet as a whole, as we
shall see, are a great chapter in the history of reform and the prudent
management of national affairs. It forms one of the best vindications of
the cabinet system, and of the powers of the minister who created, guided,
controlled, and inspired it.
“And so,” Manning, the close friend of other years, now wrote to him, “you
are at the end men live for, but not, I believe, the end for which you
have lived. It is strange so to salute you, but very pleasant.... There
are many prayers put up among us for you, and mine are not wanting.” At an
earlier stage sympathetic resolutions had been sent to him from
nonconformist denominations, and in writing to Dr. Allon who forwarded
them, Mr. Gladstone said: “I thank you for all the kind words contained in
your letter, but most of all for the assurance, not the first I am happy
to say which has reached me, that many prayers are offered on my behalf. I
feel myself by the side of this arduous undertaking a small creature; but
where the Almighty sends us duties, He also sends the strength needful to
perform them.” To Mr. Arthur Gordon, the son of Lord Aberdeen, he wrote
(Jan. 29, 1869):—
As regards my own personal position, all its interior relations
are up to this time entirely satisfactory. I myself, at the period
of the Aberdeen administration, was as far as the world in general
could possibly be, from either expecting or desiring it. I thought
at that time that when Lord Russell’s career should end, the Duke
of Newcastle would be the proper person to be at the head of the
government. But during the government of Lord Palmerston, and long
before his health broke down, I had altered this opinion; for I
thought I saw an alteration both in his tone of opinion, and in
his vigour of administration and breadth of view. Since that time
I have seen no alternative but that which has now come about,
although I am sensible that it is a very indifferent one.
On December 29 he enters in his diary: “This birthday opens my sixtieth
year. I descend the hill of life. It would be a truer figure to say I
ascend a steepening path with a burden ever gathering weight. The Almighty
seems to sustain and spare me for some purpose of His own, deeply unworthy
as I know myself to be. Glory be to His name.” In the closing hours of the
year, he enters:—
This month of December has been notable in my life as follows:
_Dec. 1809._—Born. 1827.—Left Eton. 1831.—Classes at Oxford.
1832.—Elected to parliament. 1838.—Work on Church and State
published. 1834.—Took office as lord of the treasury.
1845.—Secretary of state. 1852.—Chancellor of exchequer.
1868.—First lord. Rather a frivolous enumeration. Yet it would not
be so if the love of symmetry were carried with a
well-proportioned earnestness and firmness into the higher parts
of life. I feel like a man with a burden under which he must fall
and be crushed if he looks to the right or left or fails from any
cause to concentrate mind and muscle upon his progress step by
step. This absorption, this excess, this constant ἄγαν is the
fault of political life with its insatiable demands, which do not
leave the smallest stock of moral energy unexhausted and available
for other purposes.... Swimming for his life, a man does not see
much of the country through which the river winds, and I probably
know little of these years through which I busily work and
live.... It has been a special joy of this December that our son
Stephen is given to the church, “whose shoe latchet I am not
worthy to unloose.”
BOOK VI. 1869-1874
Chapter I. Religious Equality. (1869)
In the removal of this establishment I see the discharge of a debt
of civil justice, the disappearance of a national, almost a
worldwide reproach, a condition indispensable to the success of
every effort to secure the peace and contentment of that country;
finally relief to a devoted clergy from a false position, cramped
and beset by hopeless prejudice, and the opening of a freer career
to their sacred ministry.—GLADSTONE.
I
Anybody could pulverise the Irish church in argument, and to show that it
ought to be disestablished and disendowed was the easiest thing in the
world. But as often happens, what it was easy to show ought to be done,
was extremely hard to do. Here Mr. Gladstone was in his great element. It
was true to say that “never were the wheels of legislative machinery set
in motion under conditions of peace and order and constitutional
regularity to deal with a question greater or more profound,” than when
the historic protestant church in Ireland was severed from its sister
church in England and from its ancient connection with the state. The case
had been fully examined in parliament. After examination and decision
there, it was discussed and decided in the constituencies of the United
Kingdom. Even then many held that the operation was too gigantic in its
bearings, too complex in the mass of its detail, to be practicable. Never
was our political system more severely tested, and never did it achieve a
completer victory. Every great organ of the national constitution came
into active play. The sovereign performed a high and useful duty. The
Lords fought hard, but yielded before the strain reached a point of
danger. The prelates in the midst of anger and perturbation were forced
round to statesmanship. The Commons stood firm and unbroken. The law, when
at length it became law, effected the national purpose with extraordinary
thoroughness and precision. And the enterprise was inspired, guided,
propelled, perfected, and made possible from its inception to its close by
the resource, temper, and incomparable legislative skill of Mr. Gladstone.
That the removal of the giant abuse of protestant establishment in Ireland
made a deeper mark on national well-being than other of his legislative
exploits, we can hardly think, but—quite apart from the policy of the act,
as to which there can now be scarcely two opinions—as a monument of
difficulties surmounted, prejudices and violent or sullen heats overcome,
rights and interests adjusted, I know not where in the records of our
legislation to find its master.
(M77) With characteristic hopefulness and simplicity Mr. Gladstone tried
to induce Archbishop Trench and others of the Irish hierarchy to come to
terms. Without raising the cry of no surrender, they declined all
approaches. If Gladstone, they said, were able to announce in the House of
Commons a concordat with the Irish clergy, it would ruin them both with
the laity of the Irish establishment, and with the English conservatives
who had fought for them at the election and might well be expected, as a
piece of party business if for no better reasons, to fight on for them in
the House of Lords. Who could tell that the Gladstone majority would hold
together? Though “no surrender” might be a bad cry, it was even now at the
eleventh hour possible that “no popery” would be a good one. In short,
they argued, this was one of the cases where terms could only be settled
on the field of battle. There were moderates, the most eminent being
Bishop Magee of Peterborough, who had an interview with Mr. Gladstone at
this stage, but nothing came of it. One Irish clergyman only, Stopford the
archdeacon of Meath, a moderate who disliked the policy but wished to make
the best of the inevitable, gave Mr. Gladstone the benefit of his
experience and ability. When the work was done, Mr. Gladstone wrote to the
archdeacon more than once expressing his sense of the advantage derived
from his “thorough mastery of the subject and enlightened view of the
political situation.” He often spoke of Stopford’s “knowledge, terseness,
discrimination, and just judgment.”
Meanwhile his own course was clear. He did not lose a day:—
_Dec. 13, 1868._—Saw the Queen at one, and stated the case of the
Irish church. It was graciously received. 24.—At night went to
work on draft of Irish church measure, feeling the impulse.
25.—Christmas Day. Worked much on Irish church _abbozzo_. Finished
it at night. 26.—Revised the Irish church draft and sent it to be
copied with notes.
The general situation he described to Bishop Hinds on the last day of the
year:—
We cannot wait for the church of Ireland to make up her mind. We
are bound, nay compelled, to make up ours. Every day of the
existence of this government is now devoted to putting forward by
some step of inquiry or deliberation the great duty we have
undertaken. Our principles are already laid in the resolutions of
the late House of Commons. But in the mode of applying them much
may depend on the attitude of resistance or co-operation assumed
by the Irish church. It is idle for the leading Irish churchmen to
think “we will wait and see what they offer and then ask so much
more.” Our mode of warfare cannot but be influenced by the troops
we lead. Our three _corps d’armée_, I may almost say, have been
Scotch presbyterians, English and Welsh nonconformists, and Irish
Roman catholics. We are very strong in our minority of clerical
and lay churchmen, but it is the strength of weight not of
numbers. The English clergy as a body have done their worst
against us and have hit us hard, as I know personally, in the
counties. Yet we represent the national force, tested by a
majority of considerably over a hundred voices. It is hazardous in
these times to tamper with such a force.
The preparation of the bill went rapidly forward:—
_Hawarden, Jan. 13, 1869._—Wrote out a paper on the plan of the
measure respecting the Irish church, intended perhaps for the
Queen. Worked on Homer. We felled a lime. 14.—We felled another
tree. Worked on Homer, but not much, for in the evening came the
Spencers [from Dublin], also Archdeacon Stopford, and I had much
Irish conversation with them. 15.—We felled an ash. Three hours
conversation with the viceroy and the archdeacon. I went over much
of the roughest ground of the intended measure; the archdeacon
able and helpful. Also conversation with the viceroy, who went
before 7. Worked on Homer at night. 19.—One hour on Homer with Sir
J. Acton. Whist in evening. 20.—Further and long conversations on
the Irish church question and its various branches with Granville,
the attorney-general for Ireland, and in the evening with Dean
Howson, also with Sir J. Acton. 21.—Wrote a brief abstract of the
intended bill. Woodcutting. 23.—Saw the Queen [at Osborne] on the
Irish church especially, and gave H.M. my paper with explanation,
which appeared to be well taken. She was altogether at ease. We
dined with H.M. afterwards. 24.—Saw her Majesty, who spoke very
kindly about Lord Clarendon, Mr. Bright, Mr. Lowe, the Spanish
crown, Prince Leopold, Mr. Mozley, and so forth, but not a word on
the Irish church. _Feb. 4._—A letter from H.M. to-day showed much
disturbance, which I tried to soothe.
In February Lord Granville thought that it might do good if the Queen were
to see Bishop Magee. Mr. Gladstone said to him in reply (Feb. 7, ’69):—
The case is peculiar and not free from difficulty. On the whole I
think it would be wrong to place any limit upon the Queen’s
communications to the Bishop of Peterborough except this, that
they would doubtless be made by H.M. to him for himself only, and
that no part of them would go beyond him to any person whatever.
(M78) On Feb. 12, the Queen wrote to Mr. Gladstone from Osborne:—
The Queen has seen the Bishop of Peterborough according to the
suggestion made by Lord Granville with the sanction of Mr.
Gladstone, and has communicated to him in the strictest confidence
the correspondence which had passed between herself and Mr.
Gladstone on the subject of the Irish church. She now sends Mr.
Gladstone a copy of the remarks made by the bishop on the papers
which she placed in his hands for perusal, and would earnestly
entreat Mr. Gladstone’s careful and dispassionate consideration of
what he says. She would point especially to the suggestion which
the bishop throws out of the intervention of the bench of English
bishops. The country would feel that any negotiation conducted
under the direction of the Archbishop of Canterbury would be
perfectly safe, and from the concessions which the Bishop of
Peterborough expresses his own readiness to make, the Queen is
sanguine in her hope that such negotiations would result in a
settlement of the question on conditions which would entirely
redeem the pledges of the government and be satisfactory to the
country. The Queen must therefore strongly deprecate the hasty
introduction of the measure, which would serve only to commit the
government to proposals from which they could not afterwards
recede, while it is _certain_ from what the bishop says, that they
would not be accepted on the other side, and thus an acrimonious
contest would be begun, which, however it ended, would make any
satisfactory settlement of the question impossible.
He replied on the following day:—
_Feb. 13._—First the bishop suggests that the endowments posterior
to the Reformation should be given to the church, and those
preceding it to the Roman catholics. It would be more than idle
and less than honest, were Mr. Gladstone to withhold from your
Majesty his conviction that no negotiation founded on such a basis
as this could be entertained, or, if entertained, could lead to
any satisfactory result. Neither could Mr. Gladstone persuade the
cabinet to adopt it, nor could the cabinet persuade the House of
Commons, nor could cabinet and House of Commons united persuade
the nation to acquiesce, and the very attempt would not only
prolong and embitter controversy, but would weaken authority in
this country. For the thing contemplated is the very thing that
the parliament was elected not to do.
_Osborne, Feb. 14._—The Queen thanks Mr. Gladstone for his long
letter, and is much gratified and relieved by the conciliatory
spirit expressed throughout his explanations on this most
difficult and important question. The Queen thinks it would indeed
be most desirable for him to see the Archbishop of Canterbury—and
she is quite ready to write to the archbishop to inform him of her
wish and of Mr. Gladstone’s readiness to accede to it, should he
wish it.
“My impression is,” Mr. Gladstone wrote to Lord Granville (Feb. 14), “that
we should make a great mistake if we were to yield on the point of time.
It is not time that is wanted; we have plenty of time to deal with the
Bishop of Peterborough’s points so far as they can be dealt with at all.
Sir R. Palmer has been here to-day with overtures from persons of
importance unnamed. I think probably the Archbishop of Canterbury and
others.(175) I do not doubt that on the other side they want time, for
their suggestions are crude.”
(M79) On the following day (Feb. 15) the Queen wrote to the archbishop,
telling him that she had seen Mr. Gladstone, “who shows the most
conciliatory disposition,” and who at once assured her “of his
readiness—indeed, his anxiety—to meet the archbishop and to communicate
freely with him.” The correspondence between the Queen and the archbishop
has already been made known, and most of that between the archbishop and
Mr. Gladstone, and I need not here reproduce it, for, in fact, at this
first stage nothing particular came of it.(176) “The great mistake, as it
seems to me,” Mr. Gladstone writes to Archdeacon Stopford (Feb. 8), “made
by the Irish bishops and others is this. They seem to think that our
friends are at the mercy of our adversaries, whereas our adversaries are
really at the mercy of our friends, and it is to these latter that the
government, especially in the absence of other support, must look.”
Meanwhile the bill had made its way through the cabinet:—
_Feb. 8._—Cabinet, on the heads of Irish Church bill.. 9.—Cabinet,
we completed the heads of the Irish Church measure to my great
satisfaction. 19.—At Lambeth, 12-1-½ explaining to the archbishop.
22.—Conclave on Irish church, 3-4-½ and 5-½-7-3/4. After twenty
hours’ work we finished the bill for this stage.
II
On March 1, Mr. Gladstone brought his plan before a House of Commons eager
for its task, triumphant in its strength out of doors, and confident that
its leader would justify the challenge with which for so many months the
country had been ringing. The details are no longer of concern, and only
broader aspects survive. A revolutionary change was made by the complete
and definite severance of the protestant episcopal church in Ireland alike
from the established church of England and from the government of the
United Kingdom. A far more complex and delicate task was the winding up of
a great temporal estate, the adjustment of many individual and corporate
interests, and the distribution of some sixteen millions of property among
persons and purposes to be determined by the wisdom of a parliament, where
rival claims were defended by zealous and powerful champions influenced by
the strongest motives, sacred and profane, of party, property, and church.
It was necessary to deal with the sums, troublesome though not
considerable, allotted to the presbyterians and to the catholic seminary
at Maynooth. Machinery was constructed for the incorporation of a body to
represent the emancipated church, and to hold property for any of its uses
and purposes. Finally, the residue of the sixteen millions, after all the
just demands upon it had been satisfied, computed at something between
seven and eight millions, was appropriated in the words of the preamble,
“not for the maintenance of any church or clergy, nor for the teaching of
religion, but mainly for the relief of unavoidable calamity and suffering”
not touched by the poor law.
The speech in which this arduous scheme was explained to parliament was
regarded as Mr. Gladstone’s highest example of lucid and succinct
unfolding of complicated matter. Mr. Disraeli said there was not a single
word wasted. So skilfully were the facts marshalled, that every single
hearer believed himself thoroughly to comprehend the eternal principles of
the commutation of tithe-rent-charge, and the difference in the justice
due to a transitory and a permanent curate. Manning said that the only two
legislative acts in our history that approached it in importance for
Ireland were the repeal of the penal laws and the Act of Union. However
this may be, it is hardly an excess to say that since Pitt, the author of
the Act of Union, the author of the Church Act was the only statesman in
the roll of the century, capable at once of framing such a statute and
expounding it with the same lofty and commanding power.(177)
(M80) In a fugitive note, Mr. Gladstone named one or two of the speakers
on the second reading: “Ball: elaborate and impressive, answered with
great power by Irish attorney-general. Bright: very eloquent and striking.
Young George Hamilton: a first speech of great talent, admirably
delivered. Hardy: an uncompromising defence of laws and institutions as
they are, with a severe picture of the character and civil conduct of the
Irish population.” Mr. Disraeli’s speech was even more artificial than
usual. It was Mr. Hardy and Dr. Ball who gave cogent and strenuous
expression to the argument and passion of the church case. When the
division came, called by Mr. Gladstone “notable and historic” (March 24),
the majority in a crowded house was 118.(178) “Our division this morning,”
Mr. Gladstone wrote to Lord Granville, “even exceeded expectations, and
will powerfully propel the bill.” The size of this majority deserves the
reader’s attention, for it marked the opening of a new parliamentary era.
In 1841 Peel had turned out the whigs by a majority of 91. Lord John
Russell was displaced in 1852 by 9. The Derby government was thrown out in
December 1852 by 19. The same government was again thrown out seven years
later by 13. Palmerston was beaten in 1857 by 14, and the next year by 19.
In 1864 Palmerston’s majority on the Danish question was only 18. The
second reading of the Franchise bill of 1866 was only carried by 5, and
ministers were afterwards beaten upon it by 11. With Mr. Gladstone’s
accession the ruling majority for a long time stood at its highest both in
size and stability.
With invincible optimism, Mr. Gladstone believed that he would now have
“material communications from the heads of the Irish church”; but letters
from Lord Spencer at Dublin Castle informed him that, on the contrary,
they were angrier after they knew what the majority meant, than they were
before. At the diocesan conferences throughout Ireland the bill was
denounced as highly offensive to Almighty God, and the greatest national
sin ever committed. The Archdeacon of Ossory told churchmen to trust to
God and keep their powder dry, though he afterwards explained that he did
not allude to carnal weapons. The cabinet was called a cabinet of
brigands, and protestant pastors were urged to see to it that before they
gave up their churches to an apostate system a barrel of gunpowder and a
box of matches should blow the cherished fabrics to the winds of heaven.
Even Mr. Disraeli’s astuteness was at fault. The Archbishop of Canterbury
perceived from his conversation that he was bent on setting the liberals
by the ears, that he looked for speeches such as would betray utter
dissension amid professed agreement, that he had good hopes of shattering
the enemy, and “perhaps of playing over again the game that had destroyed
Lord Russell’s Reform bill of 1866.” The resounding majority on the second
reading, he told the archbishop, was expected; it created no enthusiasm;
it was a mechanical majority.(179)
The bill swept through the stages of committee without alteration of
substance and with extraordinary celerity, due not merely to the “brute
majority,” nor to the confidence that all was sure to be undone in another
place, but to the peculiar powers developed by the minister. From the
speech in which he unfolded his plan, down to the last amendment on
report, he showed a mastery alike of himself and of his project and of the
business from day to day in hand, that routed opposition and gave new
animation and ardour to the confidence of his friends. For six or seven
hours a day he astonished the House by his power of attention, unrelaxed
yet without strain, by his double grasp of leading principle and intricate
detail, by his equal command of legal and historic controversy and of all
the actuarial niceties and puzzles of commutation. “In some other
qualities of parliamentary statesmanship,” says one acute observer of that
time, “as an orator, a debater, and a tactician he has rivals; but in the
powers of embodying principles in legislative form and preserving unity of
purpose through a multiplicity of confusing minutiae he has neither equal
nor second among living statesmen.”(180) The truth could not be better
summed up. He carried the whole of his party with him, and the average
majority in divisions on the clauses was 113. Of one dangerous corner, he
says:—
_May 6._—H of C, working Irish Church bill. Spoke largely on
Maynooth. [Proposal to compensate Maynooth out of the funds of the
Irish church.] The final division on the pinching point with a
majority of 107 was the most creditable (I think) I have ever
known.
By a majority of 114 the bill was read a third time on the last day of
May.
III
(M81) The contest was now removed from the constituencies and their
representatives in parliament to the citadel of privilege. The issue was
no longer single, and the struggle for religious equality in Ireland was
henceforth merged before the public eye in a conflict for the supremacy of
the Commons in England. Perhaps I should not have spoken of religious
equality, for in fact the establishment was known to be doomed, and the
fight turned upon the amount of property with which the free church was to
go forth to face its new fortunes. “I should urge the House of Lords,”
wrote the Archbishop of Canterbury to Mr. Gladstone (June 3), “to give all
its attention to saving as large an endowment as possible.”
As at the first stage the Queen had moved for conciliatory courses, so now
she again desired Archbishop Tait to communicate with the prime minister.
To Mr. Gladstone himself she wrote from Balmoral (June 3): “The Queen
thanks Mr. Gladstone for his kind letter. She has invariably found him
most ready to enter into her views and to understand her feelings.” The
first question was whether the Lords should reject the bill on the second
reading:—
It is eminently desirable, Mr. Gladstone wrote to the archbishop
(June 4), that the bill should be read a second time. But if I
compare two methods, both inexpedient, one that of rejection on
the second reading, the other that of a second reading followed by
amendments inconsistent with the principle, I know no argument in
favour of the latter, except what relates to the very important
question of the position and true interest of the House of Lords
itself.
At the same time he promised the archbishop that any views of his upon
amendments would have the most careful attention of himself and his
colleagues, and “they would be entertained in a spirit not of jealousy but
of freedom, with every desire to bring them into such a shape that they
may be in furtherance, and not in derogation, of the main design of the
bill.”
General Grey, the Queen’s secretary, told Mr. Gladstone that she had
communicated with the archbishop, “having heard that violent counsels were
likely to prevail, and that in spite of their leaders, the opposition in
the House of Lords was likely to try and throw out the measure on the
second reading.” Her own feeling was expressed in General Grey’s letter to
the archbishop of the same date, of which a copy was sent to the prime
minister:—
Mr. Gladstone is not ignorant (indeed the Queen has never
concealed her feeling on the subject) how deeply her Majesty
deplores the necessity, under which he conceived himself to lie,
of raising the question as he has done; or of the apprehensions of
which she cannot divest herself, as to the possible consequences
of the measure which he has introduced. These apprehensions, her
Majesty is bound to say, still exist in full force; but
considering the circumstances under which the measure has come to
the House of Lords, the Queen cannot regard without the greatest
alarm the probable effect of its absolute rejection in that House.
Carried, as it has been, by an overwhelming and steady majority
through a House of Commons, chosen expressly to speak the feeling
of the country on the question, there seems no reason to believe
that any fresh appeal to the people would lead to a different
result. The rejection of the bill, therefore, on the second
reading, would only serve to bring the two Houses into collision,
and to prolong a dangerous agitation on the subject.
Mr. Gladstone replied:—
_June 5._—From such information as has indirectly reached Mr.
Gladstone, he fears that the leaders of the majority in the House
of Lords will undoubtedly oppose the second reading of the Irish
Church bill, of which Lord Harrowby is to propose the rejection.
He understands that Lord Salisbury, as well as Lord Carnarvon,
decidedly, but in vain, objected to this course at the meeting
held to-day at the Duke of Marlborough’s. Very few of the bishops
were present. Lord Derby, it is said, supported the resolution.
Although a division must now be regarded as certain, and as very
formidable, all hope need not be abandoned that your Majesty’s
wise counsels through the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the
sagacity of the peers themselves with reference to the security
and stability of their position in the legislature, may avail to
frustrate an unwise resolution.
“How much more effectually,” Mr. Gladstone wrote to Hawarden, “could the
Queen assist in the settlement of this question were she not six hundred
miles off.” As it was, she took a step from which Mr. Gladstone hoped for
“most important consequences,” in writing direct to Lord Derby, dwelling
on the danger to the Lords of a collision with the Commons. In a record of
these proceedings prepared for Mr. Gladstone (August 4, ’69), Lord
Granville writes:—
Before the second reading of the Irish Church bill in the House of
Lords, I was asked by the Archbishop of York to meet him and the
Archbishop of Canterbury. They said it was impossible for them to
vote for the second reading in any case, but before they decided
to abstain from voting against it they wished to know how far the
government would act in a conciliatory spirit. I made to them the
same declaration that I afterwards made in the House, and after
seeing you I had another interview with the Archbishop of
Canterbury. I told his grace that it was impossible for the
government to suggest amendments against themselves, but I gave a
hint of the direction in which such amendments might be framed,
and, without mentioning that the suggestion came from you, I said
that if his grace would tell Dr. Ball that he only wished to
propose amendments which it would be possible for the government
to accept, that learned gentleman would know better than others
how it could be done. The archbishop, however seems chiefly to
have made use of Dr. Ball to supply him with arguments against the
government.
The result was doubtful to the very end. It was three o’clock in the
morning (June 19) before the close of a fine debate—fine not merely from
the eloquence of the speakers and cogency of argument on either side, but
because there was a deep and real issue, and because the practical
conclusion was not foregone. It was the fullest House assembled in living
memory. Three hundred and twenty-five peers voted. The two English
archbishops did not vote, and Thirlwall was the only prelate who supported
the second reading. It was carried by a majority of 33. In 1857 Lord
Derby’s vote of censure on Palmerston for the China war was defeated by
36, and these two were the only cases in which the conservatives had been
beaten in the Lords for twenty years. Thirty-six conservative peers,
including Lord Salisbury, voted away from their party in favour of the
second reading.
IV
(M82) For the moment ministers breathed freely, but the bill was soon in
the trough of the sea. The archbishop wrote to the Queen that they had
decided if they could not get three million pounds to float the new church
upon, they would take their chance of what might happen by postponing the
bill until next year. Asked by the Queen what could be done (July 10),
Lord Granville, being at Windsor, answered that the cabinet would not make
up their mind until they knew how far the Lords would go in resistance,
but he thought it right to tell her that there was no chance of ministers
agreeing to postpone the bill for another year. The day after this
conversation, the Queen wrote again to the archbishop, asking him
seriously to reflect, in case the concessions of the government should not
go quite so far as he might himself wish, whether the postponement of the
settlement for another year would not be likely to result rather in worse
than in better terms for the church. She trusted that he would himself
consider, and endeavour to induce others to consider, any concessions
offered by the House of Commons in the most conciliatory spirit, rather
than to try and get rid of the bill. “The amendments,” said Mr. Gladstone,
“seem to mean war to the knife.”
After the second reading a tory lady of high station told Lord Clarendon
and Mr. Delane that in her opinion a friendly communication might have
great influence on Lord Salisbury’s course.
I therefore wrote to him (Lord Granville says in the memorandum
already referred to), stating why on public and personal grounds
it was desirable that he should meet you. I said that although it
would be difficult for us to initiate suggestions, yet from your
personal regard for him such a conversation would advance matters.
He consented, stating that he was in communication as to
amendments with Lord Cairns and the archbishop. He was extremely
desirous that no one should know of the interview. You were of
opinion that the interview had done good, and I wrote to ask Lord
Salisbury whether he would like me to put dots on some of your
i’s. He declined, and considered the interview had been
unsatisfactory, but gave me an assurance of his desire to avoid a
conflict.... On the 4th of July I wrote again suggesting a
compromise on Lord Carnarvon’s clause. He declined, that clause
being the one thing they cared about. He ended by telling me his
growing impression was, that there would be no Church bill this
session.
The general result of the operations of the Lords was to leave
disestablishment complete, and the legal framework of the bill
undisturbed. Disendowment, on the other hand, was reduced to a shadow. An
additional sum of between three and four millions was taken for the
church, and the general upshot was, out of a property of sixteen millions,
to make over thirteen or fourteen millions to an ecclesiastical body
wholly exempt from state control. This, Mr. Gladstone told the Queen, the
House of Commons would never accept, and the first effect of persistence
in such a course would be a stronger move against the episcopal seats in
the House of Lords than had been seen for more than two hundred years. He
ridiculed as it deserved the contention that the nation had not passed
judgment on the question of disendowment, and he insisted that the
government could not go further than three quarters of a million towards
meeting the extravagant claims of the Lords. Confessing his disappointment
at the conduct of the episcopal body, even including the archbishop, he
found a certain consolation in reflecting that equally on the great
occasions of 1829 and 1831, though ’the mild and wise Archbishop Howley
was its leader,’ that body failed either to meet the desires of the
country, or to act upon a far-sighted view of the exigencies of the
church. One point obstinately contested was the plan for the future
application of the surplus. A majority of the Lords insisted on casting
out the words of the preamble providing that the residue should not be
applied for purposes of religion, and substituting in one shape or another
the principle of concurrent endowment, so hostile, as Mr. Gladstone judged
it, to the peace of Ireland, and so irreconcilable with public feeling in
England and Scotland.
On July 12, the bill came back to the Commons. The tension had hardly yet
begun to tell upon him, but Mr. Gladstone enters on these days:—
_July 11._—Formidable accounts from and through Windsor. 12.—The
time grows more and more anxious. 15.—This day I received from a
Roman catholic bishop the assurance that he offered mass, and that
many pray for me; and from Mr. Spurgeon (as often from others), an
assurance of the prayers of the nonconformists. I think in these
and other prayers lies the secret of the strength of body which
has been given me in unusual measure during this very trying year.
This was the day on which, amid the ardent cheers of his party, he arose
to announce to the House the views of the government. He was in no
compromising mood. In a short speech he went through the amendments made
by men so out of touch with the feeling of the country that they might
have been “living in a balloon.” One by one he moved the rejection of all
amendments that involved the principle of concurrent endowment, the
disposal of the surplus, or the postponement of the date of
disestablishment. He agreed, however, to give a lump sum of half a million
in lieu of private benefactions, to readjust the commutation terms, and
make other alterations involving a further gift of £280,000 to the church.
When the Commons concluded the consideration of the Lords’ amendments
(July 16), Mr. Gladstone observed three things: first, that the sentiment
against concurrent endowment in any form was overwhelming; second, that
not only was no disposition shown to make new concessions, but concessions
actually made were sorely grudged; and third, that the tories were eager
to postpone the destination of the residuary property.
V
(M83) On July 16, the bill, restored substantially to its first shape, was
again back on the table of the Lords, and shipwreck seemed for five days
to be inevitable. On July 20, at eleven o’clock, by a majority of 175 to
93, the Lords once more excluded from the preamble the words that the
Commons had placed and replaced there, in order to declare the policy of
parliament on matters ecclesiastical in Ireland. This involved a meaning
which Mr. Gladstone declared that no power on earth could induce the
Commons to accept. The crisis was of unsurpassed anxiety for the prime
minister. He has fortunately left his own record of its phases:(181)—
_Saturday, July 17._—On the 16th of July the amendments made by
the Lords in the Irish Church bill had been completely disposed of
by the House of Commons. The last division, taken on the disposal
of the residue, had, chiefly through mere lazy absences, reduced
the majority for the government to 72. This _relative_ weakness
offered a temptation to the opposition to make play upon the
point. The cabinet met the next forenoon. We felt on the one hand
that it might be difficult to stake the bill on the clause for the
disposal of the residue, supposing that to be the single remaining
point of difference; but that the postponement of this question
would be a great moral and political evil, and that any concession
made by us had far better be one that would be of some value to
the disestablished church.
By desire of the cabinet I went to Windsor in the afternoon, and
represented to H.M. what it was in our power to do; namely,
although we had done all we could do upon the merits, yet, for the
sake of peace and of the House of Lords, [we were willing], (_a_)
to make some one further pecuniary concession to the church of
sensible though not very large amount; (_b_) to make a further
concession as to curates, slight in itself; (_c_) to amend the
residue clause so as to give to parliament the future control, and
to be content with simply declaring the principle on which the
property should be distributed. The Queen, while considering that
she could not be a party to this or that particular scheme, agreed
that it might be proper to make a representation to the archbishop
to the general effect that the views of the government at this
crisis of the measure were such as deserved to be weighed, and to
promote confidential communication between us. She intimated her
intention to employ the Dean of Windsor as a medium of
communication between herself and the archbishop, and wished me to
explain particulars fully to him. I went to the deanery, and, not
finding the dean, had written as much as here follows on a scrap
of paper, when he came in....
The object of this paper was to induce the archbishop to
discountenance any plan for pressing the postponement of the
provisions respecting the residue, and to deal with us in
preference respecting any practicable concession to the church.
When the dean came in, I explained this further, recited the
purport of my interview with the Queen, and on his asking me
confidentially for his own information, I let him know that the
further pecuniary concession we were prepared to recommend would
be some £170,000 or £180,000.
_Sunday, July 18._—In the afternoon Lord Granville called on me
and brought me a confidential memorandum, containing an overture
which Mr. Disraeli had placed in the hands of Lord Bessborough for
communication to us. [Memorandum not recoverable.] He had
represented the terms as those which he had with much difficulty
induced Lord Cairns to consent to. While the contention as to the
residue was abandoned, and pecuniary concessions alone were
sought, the demand amounted, according to our computation, to
between £900,000 and £1,000,000.... This it was evident was
utterly inadmissible. I saw no possibility of approach to it; and
considered that a further quarter of a million or thereabouts was
all that the House of Commons could be expected or asked further
to concede. On the same afternoon Lord Granville, falling in with
Mr. Goschen, asked him what he thought the very most that could be
had—would it be £500,000? Goschen answered £300,000, and with this
Glyn agreed. Mr. Disraeli desired an answer before three on
Monday.
_Monday, July 19._—Those members of the government who had acted
as a sort of committee in the Irish church question met in the
afternoon. We were all agreed in opinion that the Disraeli
overture must be rejected, though without closing the door; and a
reply was prepared in this sense, which Lord Granville undertook
to send. [_Draft, in the above sense that no sum approaching
£1,000,000 could be entertained._]
Meantime the archbishop had arrived in Downing Street, in
pursuance of the arrangements of Saturday; and a paper was either
now drawn, or sanctioned by my colleagues, I do not remember
which, in order to form the basis of my communication to the
archbishop. I returned from my interview, and reported, as I
afterwards did to the Dean of Windsor, that his tone was friendly,
and that he appeared well disposed to the sort of arrangement I
had sketched.
_Tuesday, July 20._—The archbishop, who had communicated with Lord
Cairns in the interval, came to me early to-day and brought a
memorandum as a basis of agreement, which, to my surprise,
demanded higher terms than those of Mr. Disraeli.(182) I told the
archbishop the terms in which we had already expressed ourselves
to Mr. Disraeli.... Meantime an answer had come from Mr. Disraeli
stating that he could not do more. Then followed the meeting of
the opposition peers at the Duke of Marlborough’s.
On the meeting of the Houses, a few of us considered what course
was to be taken if the Lords should again cast out of the preamble
the words which precluded concurrent endowment; and it was agreed
to stay the proceedings for the time, and consider among ourselves
what further to do. [Lord Granville has a pencil note on the
margin, “The first order I received was to throw up the bill, to
which I answered that I could not do more than adjourn the
debate.”] Lord Granville made this announcement accordingly after
the Lords had, upon a hot debate and by a large majority, again
excluded our words from the preamble [173: 95]. This had been
after a speech from Lord Cairns, in which he announced his
intention of moving other amendments which he detailed, and which
were in general conformable to the proposals already made to us.
The first disposition of several of us this evening, myself
included, was to regard the proceeding of the opposition as now
complete; since the whole had been announced, the first stroke
struck, and the command shown of a force of peers amply sufficient
to do the rest.(183) ... The idea did not, however, include an
absolute abandonment of the bill, but only the suspension of our
responsibility for it, leaving the opposition to work their own
will, and with the intention, when this had been done, of
considering the matter further....
_Wednesday, July 21._—The cabinet met at 11; and I went to it in
the mind of last night. We discussed, however, at great length all
possible methods of proceeding that occurred to us. The result was
stated in a letter of mine to the Queen, of which I annex a copy.
[_See __Appendix__. He enumerates the various courses considered,
and states that the course adopted was to go through the endowment
amendments, and if they were carried adversely, then to drop their
responsibility._]
Most of the cabinet were desirous to go on longer; others, myself
included, objected to proceeding to the end of the bill or
undertaking to remit the bill again to the House of Commons as of
our own motion. It occurred to me, however, that we might proceed
as far as to the end of the many amendments, about the middle of
the bill; and this appeared to meet the views of all, even of
those who would have preferred doing more, or less.
_Thursday, July 22._—I was laid up to-day, and the transactions
were carried on by Lord Granville, in communication with me from
time to time at my house. First he brought me a note he had
received from Lord Cairns.
(M84) This, dated July 22, was to the effect that Lord Cairns had no right
and no desire to ask for any information as to the course proposed that
night; but that if the statements as to the intention of the government to
proceed with the consideration of the amendments were correct, and if Lord
Granville thought any advantage likely to result from it, Lord Cairns
would be ready, “as you know I have throughout been, to confer upon a mode
by which without sacrifice of principle or dignity upon either side the
remaining points of difference might be arranged.” The proceedings of this
critical day are narrated by Lord Granville in a memorandum to Mr.
Gladstone, dated August 4:—
After seeing you I met Lord Cairns at the colonial office. He
offered me terms.(184) ... I asked him whether, in his opinion,
he, the archbishop, and I could carry anything we agreed upon. He
said, “Yes, certainly.” After seeing you I met Lord Cairns a
second time in his room at the House of Lords. I asked as a
preliminary to giving any opinion on his amendments, how he
proposed to deal with the preamble. He said, “to leave it as
amended by the Lords.” I then proposed the words which were
afterwards adopted in the 68th clause. He was at first taken
aback, but admitted that he had personally no objection to them.
He asked what was the opposition to be feared. I suggested some
from Lord Grey. He believed this to be certain, but immaterial. I
objected _in toto_ to Lord Salisbury’s clause or its substitute.
He was unwilling to yield, chiefly on Lord Salisbury’s account,
but finally consented. We agreed upon the commutation clause if
the 7 and the 5 per cent. were lumped together. On the curates
clause we could come to no agreement. He proposed to see Lord
Salisbury and the archbishop, and to meet again at four at the
colonial office. He spoke with fairness as to the difficulty of
his position, and the risk he ran with his own party. I again saw
you and asked the Irish attorney-general to be present at the last
interview. I stated to him in Lord Cairns’s presence how far we
agreed, and expressed my regret that on the last point—the
curates—our difference was irreconcilable. Lord Cairns said he
hoped not, and proceeded to argue strongly in favour of his
proposal. He at last, however, at 4.30, compromised the matter by
accepting five years instead of one. I shook his hand, which was
trembling with nervousness. We discussed the form of announcing
the arrangement to the House. We at once agreed it was better to
tell the whole truth, and soon settled that it would be better for
its success that he should announce the details. I was afterwards
apprehensive that this latter arrangement might be disadvantageous
to us, but nothing could be better or fairer than his statement. I
cannot finish this statement, which I believe is accurate, without
expressing my admiration at the firmness and conciliation which
you displayed in directing me in all these negotiations.
“The news was brought to me on my sofa,” Mr. Gladstone says, “and between
five and six I was enabled to telegraph to the Queen. My telegram was
followed up by a letter at 7 P.M., which announced that the arrangement
had been accepted by the House of Lords, and that a general satisfaction
prevailed.” To the Queen he wrote (July 22):—
Mr. Gladstone is at a loss to account for the great change in the
tone and views of the opposition since Sunday and Monday, and even
Tuesday last, but on this topic it is needless to enter. As to the
principal matters, the basis of the arrangement on the side of the
government is much the same as was intended when Mr. Gladstone had
the honour of an audience at Windsor on Saturday; but various
minor concessions have been added. Mr. Gladstone does not doubt
that, if the majority of the House of Lords should accede to the
advice of Lord Cairns, the government will be able to induce the
House of Commons to agree on the conditions proposed. Mr.
Gladstone would in vain strive to express to your Majesty the
relief, thankfulness, and satisfaction, with which he contemplates
not only the probable passing of what many believe to be a
beneficent and necessary measure, but the undoubted and signal
blessing of an escape from a formidable constitutional conflict.
The skill, patience, assiduity, and sagacity of Lord Granville in
the work of to-day demand from Mr. Gladstone the tribute of his
warm admiration.
On reviewing this whole transaction, and doing full justice to the
attitude both of the Queen and the archbishop, the reader will be inclined
to agree with old Lord Halifax: “I think we owe a good turn to Cairns,
without whose _decision_ on Thursday I hardly think that the settlement
could have been effected. Indeed Derby’s conduct proves what difficulty
there would have been, if Cairns had not taken upon himself the
responsibility of acting as he did.”
Among interesting letters was one from Manning (July 24): “My joy over the
event is not only as a catholic, though that must be, as it ought to be,
my highest motive, but as an Englishman to whom, as I remember your once
saying, the old English monarchy is dear next after the catholic church.
But at this time I will only add that I may wish you joy on personal
reasons. I could hardly have hoped that you could so have framed,
mastered, and carried through the bill from first to last so complete, so
unchanged in identity of principle and detail, and let me add with such
unwearying and sustained self-control and forbearance.”
The diary gives us a further glimpse of these agitating days:—
_July 20._—Conclave of colleagues on Irish church proceedings. An
anxious day, a sad evening. 21.—Cabinet 11-2-1/4, stiff, but good.
22.—I was obliged to take to my sofa and spent the day so in
continual interviews with Granville, Glyn, West,
Sullivan—especially the first—on the details and particulars of
the negotiations respecting the Irish Church bill. The favourable
issue left me almost unmanned in the reaction from a sharp and
stern tension of mind. 23.—My attack did not lessen. Dr. Clark
came in the morning and made me up for the House, whither I went
2-5 P.M., to propose concurrence in the Lords’ amendments. Up to
the moment I felt very weak, but this all vanished when I spoke
and while the debate lasted. Then I went back to bed. 25.—Weak
still. I presumed over much in walking a little and fell back at
night to my lowest point.
Sir Robert Phillimore records:—
_July 21._—Found Gladstone at breakfast, calm, pale, but without a
doubt as to the course which the government must pursue, viz.: to
maintain upon every important point the bill as sent back by the
Commons, probably an autumn session, a bill sternly repeated by
the Commons, too probably without the clauses favourable to the
Irish church. 23.—Nothing talked or written of but the political
marvel of yesterday. Gladstone in a speech universally praised
proposed to the House of Commons the bill as now modified, and it
passed with much harmony, broken by an Orange member. Gladstone
very unwell, and ought to have been in bed when he made his
speech. 24.—Gladstone still very weak but in a state of calm
happiness at the unexpected turn which the Irish bill had taken.
Does not now know the origin or history of the sudden resolution
on the part of the leaders of the opposition. I am satisfied that
Disraeli was alarmed and thoroughly frightened at the state of the
House of Commons and the country, that Cairns was determined to
regain what he had practically lost or was losing, the leadership
of the Lords, and that many of his party were frightened at the
madness and folly of Tuesday night considered after a day’s
reflection.... Above all there was a well-grounded alarm on the
part of Cairns and his immediate supporters in the Lords, that
their order was in imminent danger. Bluster disappeared, and a
retreat, as decent as well could be expected, was made from a
situation known to be untenable. They had never expected that
Gladstone would drop the bill. 25.—Much conversation with
Gladstone, who is still very weak. He wrote to the Archbishop of
Dublin to say in effect, that as a private churchman he would be
glad to assist in any way the archbishop could point out in the
organising of the voluntary church in Ireland.
Sir Thomas Acland writes, August 3, 1869:—
I stayed at House of Commons perforce till about 1.30 or 2, and
then walked away with Gladstone through the Park. It is beautiful
to see his intense enjoyment of the cool fresh air, the trees, the
sky, the gleaming of light on the water, all that is refreshing in
contrast to the din of politics.
A month later the Archbishop of Canterbury found Mr. Gladstone at Lord
Granville’s at Walmer Castle:—
Reached Walmer Castle about 6.30. Found Gladstone lying in
blankets on the ramparts eating his dinner, looking still very
ill.... He joined us at night full of intelligence. His fierce
vigour all the better for being a little tempered.... Much
interesting conversation about the state of the church and
morality in Wales, also about leading ecclesiastics. I gather that
he will certainly nominate Temple for a bishopric.(185)
Chapter II. First Chapter Of An Agrarian Revolution. (1870)
The Irish Land Act of 1870 in its consequences was certainly one
of the most important measures of the nineteenth century.—LECKY.
I
In the beginning of 1870 one of Mr. Gladstone’s colleagues wrote of him to
another, “I fear that he is steering straight upon the rocks.” So it might
well seem to any who knew the unplumbed depths on which he had to shape
his voyage. Irish history has been said to resemble that of Spain for the
last three centuries,—the elaboration of all those ideas of law and
political economy most unsuited to the needs of the nation concerned. Such
ideas, deeply cherished in Britain where they had succeeded, Mr. Gladstone
was now gradually drawn forward to reverse and overthrow in Ireland where
they had ended in monstrous failure. Here a pilot’s eye might well see
jagged reefs. The occasion was the measure for dealing with the land of
Ireland, that he had promised at the election. The difficulty arose from
the huge and bottomless ignorance of those in whose hands the power lay.
Mr. Gladstone in the course of these discussions said, and said truly, of
the learned Sir Roundell Palmer, that he knew no more of land tenures in
Ireland than he knew of land tenures in the moon. At the beginning much
the same might have been observed of the cabinet, of the two houses of
parliament, and of the whole mass of British electors. No doubt one effect
of this great ignorance was to make Mr. Gladstone dictator. Still
ignorance left all the more power to prejudice and interests. We may
imagine the task. The cabinet was in the main made up of landlords,
lawyers, hardened and convicted economists,—not economists like Mill, but
men saturated with English ideas of contract, of competitive rent, of
strict rule of supply and demand. Mr. Bright, it is true, had a profound
conviction that the root of Irish misery and disorder lay in the land
question. Here he saw far and deep. But then Mr. Bright had made up his
mind that the proper solution of the land question was the gradual
transformation of the tenants into owners, and this strong preconception
somewhat narrowed his vision. Even while Mr. Gladstone was in the middle
of his battle on the church, Bright wrote to him (May 21, ’69):—
When the Irish church question is out of the way, we shall find
all Ireland, north and south alike, united in demanding something
on the land question much broader than anything hitherto offered
or proposed in compensation bills. If the question is to go on
without any real remedy for the grievance, the condition of
Ireland in this particular will become worse, and measures far
beyond anything I now contemplate will be necessary. I am most
anxious to meet the evil before it is too great for control, and
my plan _will meet_ it without wrong to any man.
(M85) “I have studied the Irish land question,” said Bright, “from a point
of view almost inaccessible to the rest of your colleagues, and from which
possibly even you have not had the opportunity of regarding it.... I hope
you are being refreshed, as I am, after the long nights in the House—long
nights which happily were not fruitless. I only hope our masters in the
other House will not undo what we have done.” Mr. Gladstone replied the
next day, opening with a sentence that, if addressed to any one less
revered than Bright, might have seemed to veil a sarcasm: “I have this
advantage for learning the Irish land question, that I do not set out with
the belief that I know it already; and certainly no effort that I can make
to acquire the mastery of it will be wanting.” He then proceeds to express
his doubts as to the government embarking on a very large operation of
land-jobbing, buying up estates from landlords and reselling them to
tenants; and whether the property bought and sold again by the state would
not by force of economic laws gradually return again to fewer hands. He
then comes still closer to the pith of the matter when he says to Mr.
Bright: “Your plan, if adopted in full, could only extend, to a small
proportion of the two or three hundred millions worth of land in Ireland;
and I do not well see how the unprotected tenants of the land in general
would take essential benefit from the purchase and owning of land by a few
of their fortunate brethren.” If the land question was urgent, and Bright
himself, like Mill, thought that it was, this answer of Mr. Gladstone’s
was irrefragable. In acknowledging the despatch of this correspondence
from Mr. Gladstone, Lord Granville says to him (May 26, 1869):—
This question may break us up. Bright is thin-skinned; the attacks
in the Lords ruffle him more than he chooses to admit. I cannot
make out how far he likes office, the cabinet, and his new
position. It will be particularly disagreeable to him to have this
plan, of which he is so much enamoured and for which he has
received so much blame and a little praise, snuffed out by the
cabinet. And yet how is it possible to avoid it, even putting
aside the strong opinions of Lowe, Cardwell, and others? My only
hope is that you have got the germ of some larger and more
comprehensive plan in your head, than has yet been developed.
The plan ultimately adopted, after a severe struggle and with momentous
consequences, did not first spring from Mr. Gladstone’s brain. The idea of
adapting the law to custom in all its depth and breadth, and extending the
rooted notion of tenant-right to its furthest bearings, was necessarily a
plant of Irish and not of English growth. Mr. Chichester Fortescue, the
Irish chief secretary and an Irishman, first opened a bold expansion of
the familiar principle of many tenant-right bills. He had introduced such
a bill himself in 1866, and the conservative government had brought in
another in 1867. It is believed that he was instigated to adopt the new
and bolder line by Sir Edward Sullivan, then the Irish attorney-general.
Away from Sullivan, it was observed, he had little to say of value about
his plan. In the cabinet Fortescue was not found effective, but he was
thoroughly at home in the subject, and his speeches in public on Irish
business had all the cogency of a man speaking his native tongue, and even
genius in an acquired language is less telling. What is astonishing is the
magic of the rapid and sympathetic penetration with which Mr. Gladstone
went to the heart of the problem, as it was presented to him by his Irish
advisers. This was his way. When acts of policy were not of great or
immediate concern, he took them as they came; but when they pressed for
treatment and determination, then he swooped down upon them with the
strength and vision of an eagle.
II
His career in the most deeply operative portion of it was so intimately
concerned with Ireland, that my readers will perhaps benignantly permit a
page or two of historic digression. I know the subject seems uninviting.
My apology must be that it occupied no insignificant portion of Mr.
Gladstone’s public life, and that his treatment of it made one of his
deepest marks on the legislation of the century. After all, there is no
English-speaking community in any part of the wide globe, where our tragic
mismanagement of the land of Ireland, and of those dwelling on it and
sustained by it, has not left its unlucky stamp.
(M86) If Englishmen and Scots had not found the theme so uninviting, if
they had given a fraction of the attention to the tenure and history of
Irish land, that was bestowed, say, upon the Seisachtheia of Solon at
Athens, or the Sempronian law in ancient Rome, this chapter in our annals
would not have been written. As it was, parliament had made laws for
landlord and tenant in Ireland without well understanding what is either
an Irish landlord or an Irish tenant. England has been able to rule India,
Mill said, because the business of ruling devolved upon men who passed
their lives in India, and made Indian interests their regular occupation.
India has on the whole been governed with a pretty full perception of its
differences from England. Ireland on the contrary, suffering a worse
misfortune than absentee landlords, was governed by an absentee
parliament. In England, property means the rights of the rent-receiver who
has equipped the land and prepared it for the capital and the skill of the
tenant. In Ireland, in the minds of the vast majority of the population,
for reasons just as good, property includes rights of the cultivator,
whose labour has drained the land, and reclaimed it, and fenced it, and
made farm-roads, and put a dwelling and farm buildings on it, and given to
it all the working value that it possesses. We need suppose no criminality
on either side. The origin of the difference was perfectly natural. In
Ireland the holdings were small and multitudinous; no landlord who was not
a millionaire, could have prepared and equipped holdings numbered by
hundreds or thousands; and if he could, the hundreds and thousands of
tenants had not a straw of capital. This peculiarity in social
circumstances made it certain, therefore, that if the moral foundation of
modern ideas of property is that he who sows shall reap, the idea of
property would grow up in the mind of the cultivator, whenever the outer
climate permitted the growth in his mind of any ideas of moral or
equitable right at all.
In 1843 the Devon Commission had reported that it is the tenant who has
made the improvements; that large confiscations of these improvements had
been systematically practised in the shape of progressive enhancements of
rent; that crime and disorder sprang from the system; and that parliament
ought to interfere. A bill was proposed by the Peel government in 1845 for
protecting the rightful interests of the tenant against the landlord. It
was introduced in the House mainly composed of landlords. There it had
such contumelious greeting, that it was speedily dropped. This was a
crowning illustration of the levity of the imperial parliament dealing
with Irish problems. The vital necessity for readjusting the foundations
of social life demonstrated; a half measure languidly attempted; attempt
dropped; bills sent to slumber in limbo; dry rot left quietly alone for a
whole generation, until bloody outrage and murder awoke legislative
conscience or roused executive fear. The union was seventy years old
before the elementary feature in the agrarian condition of Ireland was
recognised by the parliament which had undertaken to govern Ireland.
Before the union Ireland was governed by the British cabinet, through the
Irish landed gentry, according to their views, and in their interests.
After the union it was just the same. She was treated as a turbulent and
infected province within the larger island; never as a community with an
internal economy peculiarly her own, with special sentiments, history,
recollections, points of view, and necessities all her own. Between the
union and the year 1870, Acts dealing with Irish land had been passed at
Westminster. Every one of these Acts was in the interest of the landlord
and against the tenant. A score of Insurrection Acts, no Tenant-right Act.
Meanwhile Ireland had gone down into the dark gulfs of the Famine
(1846-7).
Anybody can now see that the true view of the Irish cultivator was to
regard him as a kind of copyholder or customary freeholder, or whatever
other name best fits a man who has possessory interests in a piece of
land, held at the landlord’s will, but that will controlled by custom. In
Ulster, and in an embryo degree elsewhere, this was what in a varying and
irregular way actually had come about. Agrarian customs developed that
undoubtedly belong to a backward social system, but they sprang from the
necessities of the case. The essence of such customs in Ulster was first,
a fair rent to be fixed not by competition, but by valuation, and
exclusive of tenant’s improvements; second, the right of the tenant to
transfer to somebody else his goodwill, or whatever else we may call his
right of occupancy in the holding.
Instead of adapting law to custom, habit, practice, and equity, parliament
proceeded to break all this down. With well-meaning but blind violence it
imported into Ireland after the famine the English idea of landed property
and contract. Or rather, it imported these ideas into Ireland with a
definiteness and formality that would have been impracticable even in
England. Just as good people thought they could easily make Ireland
protestant if only she could be got within earshot of evangelical truth,
so statesmen expected that a few clauses on a parchment would suffice to
root out at a stroke the inveterate habits and ideas of long generations.
We talk of revolutionary doctrinaires in France and other countries.
History hardly shows such revolutionary doctrinaires anywhere as the whig
and tory statesmen who tried to regenerate Ireland in the middle of the
nineteenth century. They first of all passed an Act (1849) inviting the
purchase of the estates of an insolvent landlord upon precisely the same
principles as governed the purchase of his pictures or his furniture. We
passed the Encumbered Estates Act, Mr. Gladstone said, “with lazy,
heedless, uninformed good intentions.” The important rights given by
custom and equity to the cultivator were suddenly extinguished by the
supreme legal right of the rent-receiver. About one-eighth of the whole
area of the country is estimated to have changed hands on these terms. The
extreme of wretchedness and confusion naturally followed. Parliament
thought this must be due to some misunderstanding. That there might be no
further mistake, it next proceeded formally to declare (1860) that the
legal relations between landlord and tenant in Ireland were to be those of
strict contract.(186) Thus blunder was clenched by blunder. The
cultivators were terror-struck, and agitation waxed hot.
Oliver Cromwell had a glimpse of the secret in 1649. “These poor people,”
he said, “have been accustomed to as much injustice and oppression from
their landlords, the great men, and those who should have done them right,
as any people in that which we call Christendom. Sir, if justice were
freely and impartially administered here, the foregoing darkness and
corruption would make it look so much the more glorious and beautiful.” It
was just two hundred and twenty years before another ruler of England saw
as deep, and applied his mind to the free doing of justice.
III
Almost immediately after recovering from the fatigues of the session of
1869, Mr. Gladstone threw himself upon his new task, his imagination
vividly excited by its magnitude and its possibilities. “For the last
three months,” he writes to the Duke of Argyll (Dec. 5), “I have worked
daily, I think, upon the question, and so I shall continue to do. The
literature of it is large, larger than I can master; but I feel the
benefit of continued reading upon it. We have before us a crisis, and a
great crisis, for us all, to put it on no higher ground, and a great
honour or a great disgrace. As I do not mean to fail through want of
perseverance, so neither will I wilfully err through precipitancy, or
through want of care and desire at least to meet all apprehensions which
are warranted by even the show of reason.”
It was not reading alone that brought him round to the full measure of
securing the cultivator in his holding. The crucial suggestion, the
expediency, namely, of making the landlord pay compensation to the tenant
for disturbing him, came from Ireland. To Mr. Chichester Fortescue, the
Irish secretary, Mr. Gladstone writes (Sept. 15):—
I heartily wish, it were possible that you, Sullivan, and I could
have some of those preliminary conversations on land, which were
certainly of great use in the first stages of the Irish Church
bill. As this is difficult, let us try to compare notes as well as
we can in writing. I anticipate that many members of the cabinet
will find it hard to extend their views to what the exigencies of
the time, soberly considered, now require; but patience, prudence,
and good feeling will, I hope, surmount all obstacles.
Like you, I am unwilling to force a peasant proprietary into
existence.... The first point in this legislation, viz., that the
presumption of law should give improvements to the tenant, is now,
I suppose, very widely admitted, but no longer suffices to settle
the question.... Now as to your “compensation for disturbance.”
This is indeed a question full of difficulty. It is very desirable
to prevent the using of augmentation of rent as a method of
eviction. I shall be most curious to see the means and provisions
you may devise, without at present being too sanguine.
(M87) Meanwhile he notes to Lord Granville (Sept. 22) how critical and
arduous the question is, within as well as without the cabinet, and
wonders whether they ought not to be thinking of a judicious cabinet
committee:—
The question fills the public mind in an extraordinary degree, and
we can hardly avoid some early step towards making progress in it.
A committee keeps a cabinet quiet. It is highly necessary that we
should be quite ready when parliament meets, and yet there is so
much mental movement upon the question from day to day, as we see
from a variety of curious utterances (that of the _Times_
included), that it is desirable to keep final decisions open. Much
information will be open, and this a committee can prepare in
concert with the Irish government. It also, I think, affords a
means of bringing men’s minds together.
He tells the Irish secretary that so far as he can enter into the
secretary’s views, he “enters thoroughly into the spirit of them.” But
many members of the cabinet, laden sufficiently with their own labours,
had probably not so closely followed up the matter:—
The proposition, that _more_ than compensation to tenants for
their improvements will be necessary in order to settle the Irish
land laws, will be unpalatable, or new, to several, and naturally
enough. You will have observed the total difference in the
internal situation between this case and that of the Irish church,
where upon all the greater points our measure was in a manner
outlined for us by the course of previous transactions.
At the end of October the question was brought formally before the
cabinet:—
_Oct. 30._—Cabinet, 2-5-½.... We broke ground very satisfactorily
on the question of Irish land. _Nov. 3._—Cabinet. Chiefly on Irish
land, and stiff. 9.—To Guildhall, where I spoke for the
government. The combination of physical effort with measured words
is difficult. 22.—Worked six hours on my books, arranging and
re-arranging. The best brain rest I have had, I think, since
December last.
The brain rest was not for long. On Dec. 1 he tells Lord Granville that
Argyll is busy on Irish land, and in his views is misled by “the rapid
facility of his active mind.” “It is rather awkward at this stage to talk
of breaking up the government, and that is more easily said than done.” I
know no more singular reading in its way than the correspondence between
Mr. Gladstone and the Duke of Argyll; Mr. Gladstone trying to lead his
argumentative colleague over one or two of the barest rudiments of the
history of Irish land, and occasionally showing in the process somewhat of
the quality of the superior pupil teacher acquiring to-day material for
the lesson of to-morrow. Mr. Gladstone goes to the root of the matter when
he says to the Duke: “What I would most earnestly entreat of you is not to
rely too much on Highland experience, but to acquaint yourself by careful
reading with the rather extensive facts and history of the Irish land
question. My own studies in it are very imperfect, though pursued to the
best of my ability; but they have revealed to me many matters of fact
which have seriously modified my views, most of them connected with and
branching out of the very wide extension of the idea and even the practice
of tenant right, mostly perhaps _un_recognised beyond the limits of the
Ulster custom.”
Then Lord Granville writes to him that Clarendon has sent him two letters
running, talking of the certainty of the government being broken up. “The
sky is very far from clear,” Mr. Gladstone says to Mr. Fortescue (Dec. 3),
“but we must bate no jot of heart or hope.” The next day it is Mr. Bright
to whom he turns in friendly earnest admonition. His words will perhaps be
useful to many generations of cabinet ministers:—
It is not the courageous part of your paper to which I now object,
though I doubt the policy of the reference to feebleness and
timidity, as men in a cabinet do not like what may _seem_ to imply
that they are cowards. It is your argument (a very over-strained
one in my opinion) against Fortescue’s propositions, and your
proposal (so it reads) to put them back in order of discussion to
the second place _now_, when the mind of the cabinet has been upon
them for six weeks.... Had the cabinet adopted at this moment _a
good and sufficient scheme for dealing with the Irish tenants as
tenants_, I should care little how much you depreciated such a
scheme in comparison with one for converting them into owners. But
the state of things is most critical. This is not a time at which
those who in substance agree, can afford to throw away strength by
the _relative_ depreciation of those parts of a plan of relief, to
which they do not themselves give the first place in importance.
It is most dangerous to discredit _propositions which you mean to
adopt_, in the face of any who (as yet) do not mean to adopt them,
and who may consistently and honourably use all your statements
against them, nay, who would really be bound to do so. No part of
what I have said is an argument against your propositions.... If
your seven propositions were law to-day, you would have made but a
very small progress towards settling the land question of Ireland.
For all this very plain speech, you will, I am sure, forgive me.
A letter from Mr. Gladstone to Fortescue (Dec. 5) shows the competition
between Bright’s projects of purchase by state-aid, and the scheme for
dealing with the tenants as tenants:—
I am a good deal staggered at the idea of any interference with
present rents. But I shall not speak on this subject to others. It
will be difficult enough to carry the substance of the plan you
proposed, without any enlargement of it. I hope to see you again
before the question comes on in the cabinet.... Bright is very
full of waste lands, and generally of his own plans, considerably
(at present) to the detriment of yours. He wants the government to
buy waste lands, and says it is not against political economy, but
yours is. I think he will come right. It appears to me we might in
the case of waste lands lend money (on proper conditions) to _any
buyers_; in the case of other lands we are only to lend to
occupiers. What do you think of this?
(M88) At this date he was still in doubt whether anybody would agree to
interference with existing rents, but he had for himself hit upon the
principle that became the foundation of his law. He put to Fortescue (Dec.
9) as a material point:—
Whether it is expedient to adopt, wherever it can be made
available, _the custom of the country as the basis for
compensation on eviction and the like_. I cannot make out from
your papers whether you wholly dissent from this. I hoped you had
agreed in it. I have acquired a strong conviction upon it, of
which I have written out the grounds; but I shall not circulate
the paper till I understand your views more fully.
Lowe, at the other extremity, describes himself as more and more
“oppressed by a feeling of heavy responsibility and an apprehension of
serious danger,” and feeling that he and the minority (Clarendon, Argyll,
and Cardwell—of whom he was much the best hand at an argument)—were being
driven to choose between their gravest convictions, and their allegiance
to party and cabinet. They agreed to the presumption of law as to the
making of improvements; to compensation for improvements, retrospective
and prospective; to the right of new tenants at will to compensation on
eviction. The straw that broke the camel’s back was compensation for
eviction, where no custom could be proved in the case of an existing
tenancy. Mr. Gladstone wrote a long argumentative letter to Lord Granville
to be shown to Lowe, and it was effectual. Lowe thought the tone of it
very fair and the arguments of the right sort, but nevertheless he added,
in the words I have already quoted, “I fear he is steering straight upon
the rocks.”
What might surprise us, if anything in Irish doings could surprise us, is
that though this was a measure for Irish tenants, it was deemed heinously
wrong to ascertain directly from their representatives what the Irish
tenants thought. Lord Bessborough was much rebuked in London for
encouraging Mr. Gladstone to communicate with Sir John Gray, the owner of
the great newspaper of the Irish tenant class. Yet Lord O’Hagan, the
chancellor, who had the rather relevant advantage of being of the same
stock and faith as three-fourths of the nation concerned, told them that
“the success or failure of the Land bill depends on the _Freeman’s
Journal_; if it says, We accept this as a fixity of tenure, every priest
will say the same, and _vice versâ_.” It was, however, almost a point of
honour in those days for British cabinets to make Irish laws out of their
own heads.
(M89) Almost to the last the critical contest in the cabinet went on.
Fortescue fought as well as he could even against the prime minister
himself, as the following from Mr. Gladstone to him shows (Jan. 12):—
There can surely be no advantage in further argument between you
and me at this stage—especially after so many hours and pages of
it—on the recognition of usage beyond the limit of Ulster custom
as a distinct head. You pressed your view repeatedly on the
cabinet, which did not adopt it. Till the cabinet alters its mind,
we have no option except to use every effort to get the bill drawn
according to its instructions.
How much he had his Irish plans at heart, Mr. Gladstone showed by his
urgency that the Queen should open parliament. His letter to her (Jan. 15)
on the subject, he told Lord Granville, “expresses my desire, not founded
on ordinary motives, nor having reference to ordinary circumstances”:—
We have now to deal with the _gros_ of the Irish question, and the
Irish question is in a category by itself. It would be almost a
crime in a minister to omit anything that might serve to mark, and
bring home to the minds of men, the gravity of the occasion.
Moreover, I am persuaded that the Queen’s own sympathies would be,
not as last year, but in the same current as ours. To this great
country the state of Ireland after seven hundred years of our
tutelage is in my opinion so long as it continues, an intolerable
disgrace, and a danger so absolutely transcending all others, that
I call it the only real danger of the noble empire of the Queen. I
cannot refrain from bringing before her in one shape or another my
humble advice that she should, if _able_, open parliament.
IV
Public opinion was ripening. The _Times_ made a contribution of the first
importance to the discussion, in a series of letters from a correspondent,
that almost for the first time brought the facts of Irish land before the
general public. A pamphlet from Mill, then at the height of his influence
upon both writers and readers, startled them by the daring proposition
that the only plan was to buy out the landlords. The whole host of whig
economists and lawyers fell heavily upon him in consequence. The new
voters showed that they were not afraid of new ideas. It was not until
Jan. 25 that peril was at an end inside the government:—
_Jan. 25, ’70._—Cabinet. The great difficulties of the Irish Land
bill _there_ are now over. Thank God! _Feb. 7._—With the Prince of
Wales 3-1/4-4-1/4 explaining to him the Land bill, and on other
matters. He has certainly much natural intelligence. 15.—H. of C.
Introduced the Irish Land bill in a speech of 3-1/4 hours. Well
received by the House at large. _Query_, the Irish popular party?
Lord Dufferin, an Irish landlord, watching, as he admits, with
considerable jealousy exceptional legislation in respect to Ireland, heard
the speech from the peers’ gallery, and wrote to Mr. Gladstone the next
day: “I feel there is no one else in the country who could have
recommended the provisions of such a bill to the House of Commons, with a
slighter shock to the prejudices of the class whose interests are chiefly
concerned.” He adds: “I happened to find myself next to Lord Cairns. When
you had done, he told me he did not think his people would oppose any of
the leading principles of your bill.”
The policy of the bill as tersely explained by Mr. Gladstone in a letter
to Manning, compressing as he said eight or ten columns of the _Times_,
was “to prevent the landlord from using the terrible weapon of undue and
unjust eviction, by so framing the handle that it shall cut his hands with
the sharp edge of pecuniary damages. The man evicted without any fault,
and suffering the usual loss by it, will receive whatever the custom of
the country gives, and where there is no custom, according to a scale,
besides whatever he can claim for permanent buildings or reclamation of
land. Wanton eviction will, as I hope, be extinguished by provisions like
these. And if they extinguish wanton eviction, they will also extinguish
those demands for _unjust_ augmentations of rent, which are only
formidable to the occupier, because the power of wanton or arbitrary
eviction is behind them.” What seems so simple, and what was so necessary,
marked in truth a vast revolutionary stride. It transferred to the tenant
a portion of the absolute ownership, and gave him something like an estate
in his holding. The statute contained a whole code of minor provisions,
including the extension of Mr. Bright’s clauses for peasant proprietorship
in the Church Act, but this transfer was what gave the Act its place in
solid legal form.
(M90) The second reading was carried by 442 to 11, the minority being
composed of eight Irish members of advanced type, and three English
tories, including Mr. Henley and Mr. James Lowther, himself Irish
secretary eight years later. The bill was at no point fought high by the
opposition. Mr. Disraeli moved an amendment limiting compensation to
unexhausted improvements. The government majority fell to 76, “a result to
be expected,” Mr. Gladstone reports, “considering the natural leanings of
English and Scotch members to discount in Ireland what they would not
apply in Great Britain. They are not very familiar with Irish land
tenures.” One fact of much significance he notes in these historic
proceedings. Disraeli, he writes to the Duke of Argyll (April 21, 1870),
“has not spoken one word against valuation of rents or perpetuity of
tenure.” It was from the house of his friends that danger came:—
_April 4._—H. of C. Spoke on Disraeli’s amendment. A majority of
76, but the navigation is at present extremely critical. 7.—H. of
C. A most ominous day from end to end. Early in the evening I gave
a review of the state of the bill, and later another menace of
overturn if the motion of Mr. William Fowler [a liberal banker],
which Palmer had unfortunately (as is too common with him) brought
into importance, should be carried. We had a majority of only 32.
To Lord Russell he writes (April 12):—
I am in the hurry-scurry of preparation for a run into the country
this evening, but I must not omit to thank you for your very kind
and welcome letter. We have had a most anxious time in regard to
the Irish Land bill.... The fear that our Land bill may cross the
water creates a sensitive state of mind among all tories, many
whigs, and a few radicals. Upon this state of things comes Palmer
with his legal mind, legal point of view, legal aptitude and
inaptitude (_vide_ Mr. Burke), and stirs these susceptibilities to
such a point that he is always near bringing us to grief. Even
Grey more or less goes with him.
Phillimore records a visit in these critical days:—
_April 8._—Gladstone looked worn and fagged. Very affectionate and
confidential. Annoyed at Palmer’s conduct. Gladstone feels keenly
the want of support in debate. Bright ill. Lowe no moral weight.
“I feel when I have spoken, that I have not a shot in my locker.”
As a very accomplished journalist of the day wrote, there was something
almost painful in the strange phenomenon of a prime minister fighting as
it were all but single-handed the details of his own great measure through
the ambuscades and charges of a numerous and restless enemy—and of an
enemy determined apparently to fritter away the principle of the measure
under the pretence of modifying its details. “No prime minister has ever
attempted any task like it—a task involving the most elaborate
departmental readiness, in addition to the general duties and fatigues of
a prime minister, and that too in a session when questions are showered
like hail upon the treasury bench.”(187)
Then the government put on pressure, and the majority sprang up to 80. The
debate in the Commons lasted over three and a half months, or about a
fortnight longer than had been taken by the Church bill. The third reading
was carried without a division. In the Lords the bill was read a second
time without a division. Few persons “clearly foresaw that it was the
first step of a vast transfer of property, and that in a few years it
would become customary for ministers of the crown to base all their
legislation on the doctrine that Irish land is not an undivided ownership,
but a simple partnership.”(188)
In March Mr. Gladstone had received from Manning a memorandum of ill omen
from the Irish bishops, setting out the amendments by them thought
necessary. This paper included the principles of perpetuity of tenure for
the tiller of the soil and the adjustment of rent by a court. The reader
may judge for himself how impossible it would have been, even for Mr.
Gladstone, in all the plenitude of his power, to persuade either cabinet
or parliament to adopt such invasions of prevailing doctrine. For this,
ten years more of agitation were required, and then he was able to
complete the memorable chapter in Irish history that he had now opened.
V
(M91) Neither the Land Act nor the Church Act at once put out the hot
ashes of Fenianism. A Coercion Act was passed in the spring of 1870. In
the autumn Mr. Gladstone tried to persuade the cabinet to approve the
release of the Fenian prisoners, but it was not until the end of the year
that he prevailed. A secret committee was thought necessary in 1871 to
consider outrages in Westmeath, and a repressive law was passed in
consequence. Mr. Gladstone himself always leaned strongly against these
exceptional laws, and pressed the Irish government hard the other way.
“What we have to do,” he said, “is to defy Fenianism, to rely on public
sentiment, and so provide (as we have been doing) the practical measures
that place the public sentiment on our side, an operation which I think is
retarded by any semblance of _severity_ to those whose offence we admit
among ourselves to have been an ultimate result of our misgovernment of
the country. I am afraid that local opinion has exercised, habitually and
traditionally, too much influence in Ireland, and has greatly compromised
the character of the empire. _This_ question I take to be in most of its
aspects an imperial question.” The proposal for a secret committee was the
occasion of a duel between him and Disraeli (Feb. 27, 1871)—“both,” said
Lord Granville, “very able, but very bitter.” The tory leader taunted Mr.
Gladstone for having recourse to such a proceeding, after posing as the
only man capable of dealing with the evils of Ireland, and backed by a
majority which had legalised confiscation, consecrated sacrilege, and
condoned high treason.
Chapter III. Education—The Career And The Talents. (1870)
He that taketh away-weights from the motions, doth the same as he
that addeth wings.—PYM.
I
Amid dire controversies that in all countries surround all questions of
the school, some believe the first government of Mr. Gladstone in its
dealing with education to have achieved its greatest constructive work.
Others think that, on the contrary, it threw away a noble chance. In the
new scheme of national education established in 1870, the head of the
government rather acquiesced than led. In his own words, his
responsibility was that of concurrence rather than of authorship. His
close absorption in the unfamiliar riddles of Irish land, besides the mass
of business incident to the office of prime minister, might well account
for his small share in the frame of the education bill. More than this,
however, his private interest in public education did not amount to zeal,
and it was at bottom the interest of a churchman. Mr. Gladstone afterwards
wrote to Lord Granville (June 14, ’74), “I have never made greater
personal concessions of opinion than I did on the Education bill to the
united representations of Ripon and Forster.” His share in the adjustments
of the Act was, as he said afterwards, a very simple one, and he found no
occasion either to differ from departmental colleagues, or to press upon
them any proposals of his own. If they had been dealing with an untouched
case, he would have preferred the Scotch plan, which allowed the local
school board to prescribe whatever religious education pleased it best.
Nor did he object to a strict limitation of all teaching paid for in
schools aided or provided out of public money, whether rate or tax, to
purely secular instruction. In that case, however, he held strongly that,
subject to local consent, the master who gave the secular teaching should
be allowed to give religious teaching also at other times, even within the
school-house.(189)
(M92) What Mr. Gladstone cared for was the integrity of religious
instruction. What he disliked or dreaded was, in his own language, the
invasion of that integrity “under cover of protecting exceptional
consciences.” The advance of his ideas is rather interesting. So far back
as 1843,(190) in considering the education clauses of the Factory bill of
that year, he explained to Lord Lyttelton that he was not prepared to
limit church teaching in the schools in the exposition of scripture. Ten
years later, he wrote to his close friend, Bishop Hamilton of Salisbury:—
I am not friendly to the idea of constraining by law either the
total or the partial suppression of conscientious differences in
religion, with a view to fusion of different sects whether in
church or school. I believe that the free development of
conviction is upon the whole the system most in favour both of
truth and of charity. Consequently you may well believe that I
contemplate with satisfaction the state of feeling that prevails
in England, and that has led all governments to adopt the system
of separate and independent subsidies to the various religious
denominations.
As for the government bill of that year (1853), he entirely repudiated the
construction put upon some of its clauses, namely, “that people having the
charge of schools would be obliged to admit children of all religious
creeds, as well as that having admitted them, they would be put under
control as to the instruction to be given.” Ten years later still, we find
him saying, “I deeply regret the aversion to ‘conscience clauses,’ which I
am convinced it would be most wise for the church to adopt. As far back as
1838 I laboured hard to get the National Society to act upon this
principle permissively; and if I remember right, it was with the approval
of the then Bishop of London.” In 1865 he harps on the same string in a
letter to Lord Granville:—
... Suppose the schoolmaster is reading with his boys the third
chapter of St. John, and he explains the passage relating to
baptism in the sense of the prayer book and articles—the
dissenters would say this is instruction in the doctrine of the
church of England. Now it is utterly impossible for you to tell
the church schoolmaster or the clergyman that he must not in the
school explain any passage of scripture in a sense to which any of
the parents of the children, or at least any sect objects; for
_then you would in principle entirely alter the character of the
religious teaching for the rest of the scholars, and in fact upset
the whole system_. The dissenter, on the other hand, ought (in my
opinion) to be entitled to withdraw his child from the risk (if he
considers it such) of receiving instruction of the kind I
describe.
Mr. Gladstone had therefore held a consistent course, and in cherishing
along with full freedom of conscience the integrity of religious
instruction, he had followed a definite and intelligible line. Unluckily
for him and his government this was not the line now adopted.
II
When the cabinet met in the autumn of 1869, Mr. Gladstone wrote to Lord de
Grey (afterwards Ripon) (Nov. 4):—
I have read Mr. Forster’s able paper, and I follow it very
generally. On one point I cannot very well follow it.... Why not
adopt frankly the principle that the State or the local community
should provide the secular teaching, and either leave the option
to the ratepayers to go beyond this _sine quâ non_, if they think
fit, within the limits of the conscience clause, or else simply
leave the parties themselves to find Bible and other religious
education from voluntary sources?
Early in the session before the introduction of the bill, Mr. Gladstone
noted in his diary, “Good hope that the principal matters at issue may be
accommodated during the session, but great differences of opinion have
come to the surface, and much trouble may arise.” In fact trouble enough
arose to shake his ministry to its foundations. What would be curious if
he had not had the Land bill on his hands, is that he did not fight hard
for his own view in the cabinet. He seems to have been content with
stating it, without insisting. Whether he could have carried it in the
midst of a whirlwind of indeterminate but vehement opinions, may well be
doubted.
(M93) The Education bill was worked through the cabinet by Lord de Grey as
president of the council, but its lines were laid and its provisions in
their varying forms defended in parliament, by the vice-president, who did
not reach the cabinet until July 1870. Mr. Forster was a man of sterling
force of character, with resolute and effective power of work, a fervid
love of country, and a warm and true humanity. No orator, he was yet an
excellent speaker of a sound order, for his speaking, though plain and
even rough in style, abounded in substance; he always went as near to the
root of the matter as his vision allowed, and always with marked effect
for his own purposes. A quaker origin is not incompatible with a militant
spirit, and Forster was sturdy in combat. He had rather a full share of
self-esteem, and he sometimes exhibited a want a tact that unluckily
irritated or estranged many whom more suavity might have retained. Then,
without meaning it, he blundered into that most injurious of all positions
for the parliamentary leader, of appearing to care more for his enemies
than for his friends. As Mr. Gladstone said of him, “destiny threw him on
the main occasions of his parliamentary career into open or qualified
conflict with friends as well as foes, perhaps rather more with friends
than foes.” A more serious defect of mind was that he was apt to approach
great questions—Education, Ireland, Turkey—without truly realising how
great they were, and this is the worst of all the shortcomings of
statesmanship. There was one case of notable exception. In all the stages
and aspects of the American civil war, Forster played an admirable part.
The problem of education might have seemed the very simplest. After the
extension of the franchise to the workmen, everybody felt, in a happy
phrase of that time, that “we must educate our masters.” Outside events
were supposed to hold a lesson. The triumphant North in America was the
land of the common school. The victory of Prussians over Austrians at
Sadowa in 1866 was called the victory of the elementary school teacher.
Even the nonconformists had come round. Up to the middle of the sixties
opinion among them was hostile to the intervention of the state in
education. They had resisted Graham’s proposals in 1843, and Lord John
Russell’s in 1847; but a younger generation, eager for progress, saw the
new necessity that change of social and political circumstance imposed.
The business in 1870 was to provide schools, and to get the children into
them.(191)
It is surprising how little serious attention had been paid even by
speculative writers in this country to the vast problem of the relative
duties of the State and the Family in respect of education. Mill devoted a
few keen pages to it in his book upon political economy. Fawcett, without
much of Mill’s intellectual power or any of his sensitive temperament, was
supposed to represent his principles in parliament; yet in education he
was against free schools, while Mill was for them. All was unsettled;
important things were even unperceived. Yet the questions of national
education, answer them as we will, touch the moral life and death of
nations. The honourable zeal of the churches had done something, but most
of the ground remained to be covered. The question was whether the system
about to be created should merely supplement those sectarian, private,
voluntary schools, or should erect a fabric worthy of the high name of
national. The churchman hoped, but did not expect, the first. The
nonconformist (broadly speaking), the academic liberal, and the hard-grit
radical, were keen for the second, and they were all three well
represented in the House of Commons.
(M94) What the government proposed was that local boards should be called
into existence to provide schools where provision was inadequate and
inefficient, these schools to be supported by the pence of the children,
the earned grant from parliament, and a new rate to be levied upon the
locality. The rate was the critical element. If the boards chose, they
could make bye-laws compelling parents to send their children to school;
and they could (with a conscience clause) settle what form of religious
instruction they pleased. The voluntary men were to have a year of grace
in which to make good any deficiency in supply of schools, and so keep out
the boards. The second reading was secured without a division, but only on
assurances from Mr. Gladstone that amendments would be made in committee.
On June 16, the prime minister, as he says, “explained the plans of the
government to an eager and agitated house.”
Two days before, the cabinet had embarked upon a course that made the
agitation still more eager. Mr. Gladstone wrote the pregnant entry: “_June
14._ Cabinet; decided on making more general use of machinery supplied by
voluntary schools, avoidance of religious controversy in local boards.”
This meant that the new system was in no way to supersede the old
non-system, but to supplement it. The decision was fatal to a national
settlement. As Mr. Forster put it, their object was “to complete the
voluntary system and to fill up gaps.” Lord Ripon used the same language
in the Lords. Instead of the school boards being universal, they should
only come into existence where the ecclesiastical party was not strong
enough in wealth, influence, and liberality to keep them out. Instead of
compulsory attendance being universal, that principle could only be
applied where a school board was found, and where the school board liked
to apply it. The old parliamentary grant to the denominational schools was
to be doubled. This last provision was Mr. Gladstone’s own. Forster had
told him that it was impossible to carry a proposal allowing school boards
to contribute to denominational schools, and the only compensation open
was a larger slice of the grant from parliament.
III
The storm at once began to rage around the helmsman’s ears. Some days
earlier the situation had been defined by Mr. Brand, the whip, for his
leader’s guidance. The attempt, he said, made by Fawcett, Dilke, and
others, to create a diversion in favour of exclusively secular education
has signally failed; the opinion of the country is clearly adverse. On the
other hand, while insisting on the religious element, the country is just
as strongly opposed to dogmatic teaching in schools aided by local rates.
“You ask me,” said Mr. Gladstone to Mr. Brand (May 24), “to solve the
problem in the words ‘to include religion, and to exclude dogma,’ which,
as far as I know, though it admits of a sufficient practical handling by
individuals acting for themselves, has not yet been solved by any state or
parliament.” Well might he report at Windsor (June 21) that, though the
auspices were favourable, there was a great deal of crude and
indeterminate opinion on the subject in the House as well as elsewhere,
and “the bill, if carried, would be carried by the authority and
persistence of the government, aided by the acquiescence of the
opposition.” It was this carrying of the bill by the aid of the tory
opposition that gave fuel to the liberal flame, and the increase of the
grant to the sectarian schools made the heat more intense. The most
critical point of the bill, according to Mr. Gladstone, was a proposal
that now seems singularly worded, to the effect that the teaching of
scriptures in rate schools should not be in favour of, or opposed to,
tenets of any denomination. This was beaten by 251 to 130. “The minority
was liberal, but more than half of the liberal party present voted in the
majority.”
(M95) “We respect Mr. Forster,” cried Dale of Birmingham, “we honour Mr.
Gladstone, but we are determined that England shall not again be cursed
with the bitterness and strife from which we had hoped that we had for
ever escaped, by the abolition of the church rate.”(192) Writing to a
brother nonconformist, he expresses his almost unbounded admiration for
Mr. Gladstone, “but it is a bitter disappointment that his government
should be erecting new difficulties in the way of religious equality.”
Under the flashing eye of the prime minister himself the nonconformist
revolt reared its crest. Miall, the veteran bearer of the flag of
disestablishment, told Mr. Gladstone (July 22) that he was leading one
section of the liberal party through the valley of humiliation. “Once bit,
twice shy. We can’t stand this sort of thing much longer,” he said. In a
flame of natural wrath Mr. Gladstone replied that he had laboured not to
gain Mr. Miall’s support, but to promote the welfare of the country. “I
hope my hon. friend will not continue his support to the government one
moment longer than he deems it consistent with his sense of right and
duty. For God’s sake, sir, let him withdraw it the moment he thinks it
better for the cause he has at heart that he should do so.” The
government, he said, had striven to smooth difficulties, to allay
passions, to avoid everything that would excite or stimulate, to endeavour
to bring men to work together, to rise above mere sectional views, to
eschew all extremes, and not to make their own narrow choice the model of
the measure they were presenting to parliament, but to admit freely and
liberally into its composition those great influences which were found
swaying the community. Forster wrote to a friend, “it does not rest with
me now whether or no the state should decree against religion—decree that
it is a thing of no account. Well, with my assent the state shall not do
this, and I believe I can prevent it.”(193) Insist, forsooth, that
religion was not a thing of no account against men like Dale, one of the
most ardent and instructed believers that ever fought the fight and kept
the faith; against Bright, than whom no devouter spirit breathed, and who
thought the Education Act “the worst Act passed by any liberal parliament
since 1832.”
The opposition did not show deep gratitude, having secured as many favours
as they could hope, and more than they had anticipated. A proposal from
the government (July 14) to introduce secret voting in the election of
local boards was stubbornly contested, in spite, says Mr. Gladstone, “of
the unvarying good temper, signal ability and conciliatory spirit of Mr.
Forster,” and it was not until after fourteen divisions that a few
assuaging words from Mr. Gladstone brought the handful of conservative
opposition to reason. It was five o’clock before the unflagging prime
minister found his way homewards in the broad daylight.
It is impossible to imagine a question on which in a free government it
was more essential to carry public opinion with the law. To force parents
to send children to school, was an enterprise that must break down if
opinion would not help to work it. Yet probably on no other question in
Mr. Gladstone’s career as law-maker was common opinion so hard to weigh,
to test, to focus and adjust. Of the final settlement of the question of
religious instruction, Mr. Gladstone said to Lord Lyttelton when the
battle was over (Oct. 25, ’70):—
... I will only say that it was in no sense my choice or that of
the government. Our first proposition was by far the best. But it
received no active support even from the church, the National
Society, or the opposition, while divers bishops, large bodies of
clergy, the Education Union, and earliest of all, I think,
Roundell Palmer in the House of Commons, threw overboard the
catechism. We might then have fallen back upon the plan of
confining the application of the rate to secular subjects; but
this was opposed by the church, the opposition, most of the
dissenters, and most of our own friends. As it was, I assure you,
the very utmost that could be done was to arrange the matter as it
now stands, where the exclusion is limited to the formulary, and
to get rid of the popular imposture of undenominational
instruction.
(M96) At bottom the battle of the schools was not educational, it was
social. It was not religious but ecclesiastical, and that is often the
very contrary of religious. In the conflicts of the old centuries whence
Christian creeds emerged, disputes on dogma constantly sprang from
rivalries of race and accidents of geography. So now quarrels about
education and catechism and conscience masked the standing jealousy
between church and chapel—the unwholesome fruit of the historic mishaps of
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries that separated the nation into two
camps, and invested one of them with all the pomp and privilege of social
ascendency. The parent and the child, in whose name the struggle raged,
stood indifferent. From the point of party strategy, the policy of this
great statute was fatal. The church of England was quickened into active
antagonism by Irish disestablishment, by the extinction of sectarian tests
at Oxford and Cambridge, and by the treatment of endowed schools. This
might have been balanced by the zeal of nonconformists. Instead of zeal,
the Education Act produced refrigeration and estrangement.
We may be sure that on such a subject Mr. Gladstone looked further than
strategies of party. “I own to you,” said he to a correspondent before the
battle was quite over, “that the history of these last few months leaves
upon my mind some melancholy impressions, which I hope at some fancied
period of future leisure and retirement to study and interpret.” He soon
saw how deep the questions went, and on what difficult ground the state
and the nation would be inevitably drawn. His notions of a distinctive
formula were curious. Forster seems to have put some question to him on
the point whether the three creeds were formularies within the Act. It
appears to me, Mr. Gladstone answered (October 17, 1870):—
It is quite open to you at once to dispose of the Nicene and
Athanasian Creeds and to decline inquiring whether they are
distinctive, upon the ground that they are not documents employed
in the instruction of young children.... Obviously no one has a
right to call on you to define the distinctive character of a
formulary such as the Thirty-nine Articles, or of any but such as
are employed in schools. With respect to the Apostles’ Creed, it
appears to me not to be a distinctive formulary in the sense of
the Act. Besides the fact that it is acknowledged by the great
bulk of all Christendom, it is denied or rejected by no portion of
the Christian community; and, further, it is not controversial in
its form, but sets forth, in the simplest shape a series of the
leading facts on which Christianity, the least abstract of all
religions, is based.
Manning plied him hard (September, October, November, 1871). The state of
Paris (Commune blazing that year, Tuileries and Hôtel de Ville in ashes,
and the Prussian spiked helmets at the gates) was traceable to a godless
education—so the archbishop argued. In England the Christian tradition was
unbroken. It was only a clique of doctrinaires, Huxley at the head of
them, who believing nothing trumpeted secular education. “Delighted to see
Mr. Forster attacked as playing into the hands of the clergy.” Mr.
Gladstone should stimulate by every agency in his power the voluntary
religious energies of the three kingdoms. “The real crisis is in the
formation of men. They are as we make them, and they make society. The
formation of men is the work you have given to the school boards. God gave
it to the parents. Neither you nor Mr. Forster meant this; you least of
all men on your side of the House. Glad to see you lay down the broad and
intelligible line that state grants go to secular education, and voluntary
efforts must do the rest. Let us all start fair in this race. Let every
sect, even the Huxleyites, have their grant if they fulfil the conditions.
As for the school-rate conscience, it is a mongrel institution of
quakerism.” How Mr. Gladstone replied on all these searching issues, I do
not find.
IV
The passing of the Act did not heal the wound. The nonconformist revolt
was supported in a great conference at Manchester in 1872, representing
eight hundred churches and other organizations. Baptist unions and
congregational unions were unrelenting. We may as well finish the story.
It was in connection with this struggle that Mr. Chamberlain first came
prominently into the arena of public life—bold, intrepid, imbued with the
keen spirit of political nonconformity, and a born tactician. The issue
selected for the attack was the twenty-fifth section of the Education Act,
enabling school boards to pay in denominational schools the fees of
parents who, though not paupers, were unable to pay them. This provision
suddenly swelled into dimensions of enormity hitherto unsuspected. A
caustic onlooker observed that it was the smallest ditch in which two
great political armies ever engaged in civil war. Yet the possibility
under cover of this section, of a sectarian board subsidising church
schools was plain, and some cases, though not many, actually occurred in
which appreciable sums were so handed over. The twenty-fifth section was a
real error, and it made no bad flag for an assault upon a scheme of error.