In 1850 the Irish Secretary of the day brought in a Bill (practically the

same as Lord Stanley’s Bill of 1845) giving the tenant compensation for

improvements. The Bill was read a second time, committed, and dropped. In

the same year Sharman Crawford again introduced his “Tenant Right” Bill,

but it was never read a second time.

In November, 1852 (when the Irish Parliamentary Party held the balance

between English parties),(153) the Tory Government introduced a Bill

giving to the tenant compensation for improvements, prospective and

retrospective, made by him in the land. The Bill was read a second time

without opposition in December and then referred to a Select Committee.

When the Whigs came into office in 1853 they took up the measure which,

subject to certain alterations, was approved of by the Select Committee.

The Bill was finally read a second time in the Lords and then dropped for

the session. It was reintroduced in 1854, and read a second time in the

Lords; referred to a Select Committee, condemned by the Committee, and

lost. Between 1854 and 1860 Land Bill after Land Bill was introduced by

the Irish Parliamentary Party for the purpose of giving compensation to

tenants for improvements, but all were rejected. Finally (in 1860),

imitating the example of 1849, the Whig Government of the day passed a

Land Act in the interests of the landlords. Let me describe this Act in

the words of Lord Russell of Killowen. “This was an Act passed to help the

landlords, and not one passed for the protection of the tenants. It turned

the relation between landlord and tenant from relation by tenure into

relation by contract;(154) it gave certain facilities in the matter of

proceedings in ejectment; it recognized and formulated what had been an

existing law in Ireland—going back for a long period—a state of law

unknown in this country. I mean the right of ejectment, pure and simple,

for non-payment of rent.” The recommendations of the Devon Commission were

not only not carried out but were absolutely ignored. Happily however the

Act proved a dead letter. “This enactment,” said the Bessborough

Commission of 1881, “has produced little or no effect. It may be said to

have given utterance to the wishes of the Legislature, that the

traditional rights of tenants should cease to exist, rather than to have

seriously affected the conditions of their existence.” It was in reference

to the Encumbered Estates Act, and this Act, that Mr. Gladstone once

exclaimed in the House of Commons: “In our very remedies we have failed.”

In 1866 the Government brought in a Bill to amend the Act of 1860 in the

interest of the tenants, but it never became law. The Bill was again

brought forward in 1867 and again lost. While every Land Act in the

interest of the tenant between 1849 and 1867 was rejected, the Statute

book continued to be filled with Coercion Acts. Thus:

1850-1855. Crime and Outrage (Continuance) Act.

1856, 1857. Peace Preservation Act.

1858-1864. Peace Preservation (Continuance) Act.

1865. Peace Preservation (Continuance) Act.

1866-1869 (off and on). Habeas Corpus Suspension Act.

As Parliament treated the land question, so it treated the church

question, and every question in which the Irish people were interested.

Their complaints, as Bright said, “were met with denial, with contempt,

with insult.” Ministers, indeed, slumbered peacefully as if there were no

Irish question, until they were rudely awakened in 1867 by the ringing of

the “Chapel bell.” Fenianism—a Society founded to sever the connection

between England and Ireland—brought Liberals and Tories to their bearings;

and under the pressure of that great revolutionary organization (which set

Ireland in a blaze), the Church was disestablished in 1869, and the first

Land Act (which in the slightest degree served the interests of the

tenants) passed in 1870. This Act provided that tenants, when evicted,

should receive compensation for improvements, and in certain cases, for

disturbance. It also contained clauses for the creation of a peasant

proprietary, and recognized and legalized the Ulster custom of tenant

right. But the Act was a failure. The peasant proprietary clauses did not

work; rack-renting continued, evictions increased, and the general

discontent remained the same as ever. In these circumstances the Irish

members demanded fresh legislation, and introduced several Bills for this

purpose between 1876 and 1881. They were all rejected by overwhelming

majorities. Then the Land League came; lawlessness and outrage came;

treason and anarchy came; and the Land Act of 1881 was passed in a storm

of revolution. The reasons given by Lord Salisbury for not opposing the

Bill in the House of Lords are too remarkable, and too little known not to

be quoted. He said:

“In view of the prevailing agitation, and having regard to the

state of anarchy (in Ireland), I cannot recommend my followers to

vote against the second reading of the Bill.”

and in the same speech he added:

“What will be the attitude of the tenant all this time? He, like

the landlord, will be looking to the future, but in a very

different temper. He knows perfectly well that all he has hitherto

got he has not got because he has moved your convictions, but

because he has moved your fears.”

“The pivot of the Act of 1881,” to use the language of Mr. Forster, was

the “Land Court” established to stand between landlords and tenants, to

fix fair or judicial rents. Previously, the landlord was master of the

situation. The competition for land placed the tenant at his mercy, and he

accordingly fixed the rent at his own pleasure. But henceforth rents were

to be fixed by legal tribunals; and while the tenant paid the rent so

fixed, he could not be disturbed in his holding for a period of fifteen

years. Roughly speaking, the Act changed Irish tenancies from tenancies at

will practically to leaseholds, renewable every fifteen years, subject to

revision of rent by the Land Courts. It also recognised the tenant’s right

to sell his holding, and provided facilities for the creation of a peasant

proprietary.

But the Land Act of 1881 did not settle the land question. The system of

dual ownership which it set up was agreeable neither to landlord nor

tenant, and both now combined to demand fresh legislation for the purpose

of enabling the tenants to purchase their holdings. The Act had destroyed

the prestige of the landlords; they were disgusted with the spectacle of

seeing “briefless barristers,” (as the Judges of the Land Courts were

called), “rambling about the country” and fixing rents independently of

their wishes; their occupation as territorial magnates was gone and they

were now willing to dispose of their estates, if only they could obtain

good terms. The cry of the tenant always had been the “land for the

people,” and they raised that cry now louder than ever. Extraordinary as

it may seem the English Tory party took the lead in responding to it. In

1885 the first of a series of Tory Land Purchase Acts was passed. By this

measure the state was empowered to advance the whole of the purchase money

to tenants who had agreed with their landlords to purchase their holdings;

forty-nine years were allowed for repayment of the purchase money, at the

rate of 4 per cent. per annum. Between 1885 and 1912 six more Land

Purchase Acts were placed on the Statute book. With a single exception,

all these Acts were passed by Tories. Therefore the Tories take credit to

themselves for the policy of land purchase. But rather the credit belongs

to Charles Stewart Parnell and the Land League, who, by the revolution of

1881, not only made land purchase possible, but made it inevitable. I

cannot here deal with these Acts in detail(155) but the following table

gives a list of them and shows how they have worked. It also mentions

other Acts which contain provisions for facilitating the creation of a

peasant proprietary.

Act. No. of Purchasers. Amount of Advances.

I.—Irish Church Act, 6,057 1,674,841

1869

II.—Landlord and 877 514,536

Tenant Act, 1870

III.—Land Law 731 240,801

(Ireland) Act, 1881

IV.—Land Purchase 25,367 9,992,536

Acts, 1885, 1887,

1888 and 1889

V.—Land Purchase 46,806 13,633,190

Acts, 1891, 1896

VI.—Irish Land Act, 117,010 41,293,564

1903

VII.—Evicted Tenants 550 307,550

Act, 1907

VIII.—Irish Land 1,444 422,562

Act, 1909

Total 198,842 68,079,580(156)

Mr. Gladstone once said to me that he was deeply moved by the

Parliamentary history of the Irish Land question. It was a subject of the

greatest magnitude affecting as it did the life of the country. Yet the

Imperial Parliament failed for three quarters of a century to realize the

importance and the gravity of the case; and even then did not grapple

successfully with it.

“A sad and a discreditable story,” was his comment.

Nowhere, I repeat, can a stronger argument in favour of Home Rule be found

than in the history of the Irish Land Question.

VI

There is one fact in connection with the Government of Ireland during the

nineteenth century with which, I think, English Statesmen are but

imperfectly acquainted, viz., that the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829

was an utter failure. It was thought that when Irish Catholics were

admitted to the English Parliament all would go well with Ireland. But the

Irish Catholic member in the English Parliament was absolutely useless to

Ireland; and it was that uselessness which led to the Repeal Agitation,

Young Ireland, Fenianism, and the Home Rule movement.

The policy of the English Parliament in truth fostered the idea of Irish

nationality. It is, perhaps, within the range of possibility, that good

legislation, and good administration might have put out the fire. I know

not. But as it was those who made the laws, and those who administered the

laws, fed the flame. Every Coercion Act was a nail in the coffin of the

Union; and a reminder that the foreigner ruled in the land. When O’Connell

was “master of the situation” in 1835, he thought that the opportunity had

at length arrived of obtaining important remedial measures for Ireland. We

know how his hopes were disappointed. When the Irish Members held the

balance between English parties in 1852, they thought that the time had

come for securing a beneficial Land Act; but they also were doomed to

disappointment.

In fact between 1829 and 1869 the Irish Members failed to place upon the

Statute book one single measure for which the Irish people had loudly

called; and the measures of 1869 and 1870 were due to Fenianism and not to

parliamentary action.

Between 1870 and 1881 the efforts of the Parliamentarians were again

marked by failure, and we know, from Mr. Gladstone himself, that, there

would have been no Land Act in 1881 if there had been no Land League. In

1884 household suffrage was extended to Ireland. The General Election of

1885 made Parnell “master of the situation.” What was he able to do? He

certainly got the Home Rule _Bill_ of 1886 and converted the Liberal party

to the cause; but he did not win Home Rule. Between 1892 and 1895 a

Liberal Government was once more kept in office by the Irish vote. But

though a Home Rule Bill was carried through the Commons in 1893 Home Rule

was not won. Finally between 1895 and 1906 Home Rule was thrust into the

background by an English majority.

Well might Sir Spencer Walpole have written: “The treatment of Ireland

made representative Government in Ireland a fraud. It is absurd to say

that a country enjoys representative institutions if its delegates are

uniformly out-voted by men of another race.”

While the Irish representation in the Imperial Parliament was a fraud, the

English Administration of Ireland was an outrage on national sentiment.

After Catholic Emancipation, as before, it was, in the main, based on

Protestant Ascendency principles, which meant not Ireland for the Irish,

but Ireland for an English faction. As a rule no man in touch with popular

feeling was allowed to have a voice in the government of the country.

Catholics as Catholics were habitually excluded from office. Since

Catholic Emancipation there has not been a Catholic Lord-Lieutenant, nor a

Catholic Chief Secretary. There have been 3 Catholic Under-Secretaries.

There have been 3 Lord Chancellors. In the High Court of Justice there are

17 Judges; 3 of them are Catholics. There are 21 County Court Judges and

Recorders; 8 of them are Catholics. There are 37 County Inspectors of

Police; 5 of them are Catholics. There are 202 District Inspectors of

Police; 62 of them are Catholics. There are 5,518 ordinary Justices of the

Peace; 1,805 of them are believed to be Catholics. There are 68 Privy

Councillors; 8 of them are Catholics. And in other offices, through the

whole gamut of the administration, the same principle of exclusiveness was

observed. Nor was this all. Catholics who were appointed to office,

feeling that they were “suspect” as Catholics, only too often, in order to

show that their loyalty was above suspicion, became more Protestant than

the Protestants, and more English than the English. “We have now captured

the Castle,” I heard an Irish Catholic official say, in reference to a

Catholic appointment which had recently been made. The retort was obvious.

“No, but the Castle has captured you.” In truth, no matter what was the

religion of the official, he appeared before the people as the instrument

of a foreign government, not as the servant of the Irish nation. Let us

remember that it was in the year 1885, not in “ancient times,” that Mr.

Chamberlain said in memorable language:

“I do not believe that the great majority of Englishmen have the

slightest conception of the system under which this free nation

attempts to rule the sister country. It is a system which is

founded on the bayonets of 30,000 soldiers encamped permanently as

in a hostile country. It is a system as completely centralised and

bureaucratic as that with which Russia governs Poland, or as that

which prevailed in Venice under the Austrian rule. An Irishman at

the moment cannot move a step—he cannot lift a finger in any

parochial, municipal, or educational work, without being

confronted with, interfered with, controlled by an English

official, appointed by a foreign Government, and without a shade

or shadow of representative authority.”

It was not until 1898 that popular control in local affairs was

established by the County Councils’ Act.

Englishmen often say to me: “What an illogical and unreasonable people you

Irish are. At the very time when we were showing our determination to do

justice to Ireland, when we had disestablished the State Church in 1869,

and passed the Land Act of 1870 at that very time, in the very year 1870,

you started the Home Rule movement.” Englishmen say many foolish things

about Ireland, because they know nothing about Irish history, and indeed

give very little serious thought to Irish affairs. The fact that the

English State Church was not disestablished for sixty-nine years after the

Union, and that an Act for the protection of the tenants and for securing

the proper cultivation of the soil was not passed until seventy years

after the Union; and that it took constant agitation and incessant

outbursts of lawlessness and crime and finally a revolutionary convulsion

to accomplish these things, was a sufficient justification for the

establishment of the Home Rule movement in 1870. Had the government of

Ireland in the nineteenth century been as good as it was bad, still I hope

that the Irish people would not have relinquished their national

claims—would not have sold their birthright for any mess of porridge; but

they did not get the porridge; rather vinegar and gall had been the

offering of England to the “sister” isle during sixty-nine years of

“Union.” I have said that the seed sown by O’Connell and Young Ireland

took root, so did the seed sown by England. Extremes meet. The

agitator—the rebel—and the English Government combined to keep the spirit

of nationality alive, and to make the demand for Home Rule inevitable and

irresistible.

It was on May 19th, 1870, that the Home Rule Association was founded. It

was no wonder after seventy years of the Union that failed that the

following resolution should have been passed:

“That it is the opinion of this meeting that the true remedy for

the evils of Ireland is the establishment of an Irish Parliament

with full control over our domestic affairs.”

The objects of the Association were then set forth.

“To obtain for our country the right and privilege of managing our

own affairs by a Parliament assembled in Ireland, composed of Her

Majesty, the Sovereign, and her successors, and the Lords and

Commons of Ireland.

“To secure for that Parliament, under a federal arrangement, the

right of legislating for, and regulating all matters relating to

the internal affairs of Ireland, and control over Irish resources

and expenditure, subject to the obligation of contributing our

just proportion of the Imperial expenditure; [leaving to] an

Imperial Parliament the power of dealing with all questions

affecting the Imperial Crown and Government, legislation regarding

the Colonies and other dependencies of the Crown, the relations of

the United Empire with foreign States, and all matters

appertaining to the defence and stability of the Empire at

large....”

At the General Election of 1874, 59 Home Rulers were returned to

Parliament. At the election of 1880 the number was increased to 61. At the

election of 1885 it was increased to 85, at which figure it stands to-day.

On June 30th, 1874, a motion by Isaac Butt for an enquiry into the subject

of Home Rule was defeated in the House of Commons by 458 votes to 61.

Nineteen years afterwards a Bill to establish a Parliament and an

Executive in Dublin for the management of Irish Affairs was carried

through the House of Commons by the Government of Mr. Gladstone. On the

retirement of Mr. Gladstone from public life Home Rule received a set back

in England, but to-day it holds the field once more.

If the Land Act of 1870 had been a success instead of a failure it could

not have checked the flowing tide. It was in 1871 that Mr. Lecky wrote:

“The sentiment of nationality lies at the root of Irish discontent.” Ten

years earlier Goldwin Smith used the following remarkable language:

“The real root of Irish disaffection is the want of national

institutions, of a national capital, of any objects of national

reverence and attachment, and, consequently, of anything deserving

to be called national life. The greatness of England is nothing to

the Irish. Her history is nothing, or worse. The success of

Irishmen in London consoles the Irish no more than the success of

Italian adventurers in foreign countries (which was very

remarkable) consoled the Italian people. The drawing off of Irish

talent, in fact, turns to an additional grievance in their mind.

Dublin is a modern Tara; a Metropolis from which the glory has

departed; and the Vice-Royalty, though it pleases some of the

tradesmen, fails altogether to satisfy the people. ’In Ireland we

can make no appeal to patriotism; we can have no patriotic

sentiments in our school books, no patriotic emblems in our

schools, because in Ireland everything patriotic is rebellious.’

These were the words uttered in my hearing, not by a complaining

demagogue, but by a desponding statesman.”

Between 1861 and 1871 the tide of nationality was rising. Fenianism

diverted it in the direction of separation. Isaac Butt brought it back to

the channel of legislative autonomy. The failure of the Land Act of 1870,

the refusal of Parliament to amend it, the renewal of Coercion, the

political excitement caused by Fenianism and the definite demand for Home

Rule, swelled the tide and gave it fresh force. All the Land Acts passed

between 1881 and 1909 have not changed the current of public feeling. Home

Rule has not been killed by kindness.

The class which long refused to remove Irish material grievances, now say,

that, since some of those grievances have been remedied, the Irish ought

to abandon the demand for Home Rule. John Stuart Mill warned the class in

question many years ago that if the removal of material grievances were

delayed, the time might come when the fight would be for an idea, and that

then the Irish problem would be more formidable than ever. The fight

to-day is for an idea—the idea of nationality—and English Unionist

statesmen do not apparently understand it:

“Alas for the self-complacent ignorance of irresponsible rulers,

be they monarchs, classes, or nations! If there is anything sadder

than the calamity itself, it is the unmistakable sincerity and

good faith with which numbers of Englishmen confess themselves

incapable of comprehending it. They know not that the disaffection

which neither has nor needs any other motive than aversion to the

rulers, is the climax to a long growth of disaffection arising

from causes that might have been removed. What seems to them the

causelessness of the Irish repugnance to our rule, is the proof

that they have almost let pass the last opportunity they are ever

likely to have of setting it right. They have allowed what once

was indignation against particular wrongs, to harden into a

passionate determination to be no longer ruled on any terms by

those to whom they ascribe all their evils.”(157)

Englishmen thoroughly appreciate the idea of nationality except when it

applies to Ireland.

Mr. Redmond has been recently censured because he said, in effect, that

material prosperity is not everything. Yet what did Mr. Disraeli say in

his inaugural address to the University of Glasgow in 1873:

“It is not true that physical happiness is the highest happiness;

it is not true that physical happiness is a principle on which you

can build up a flourishing and enduring commonwealth. A civilised

community must rest on a large realised capital of thought and

sentiment; there must be a reserved fund of public morality to

draw upon in the exigencies of national life. Society has a soul

as well as a body, the traditions of a nation are part of its

existence. Its valour and its discipline, its religious faith, its

venerable laws, its science and erudition, its poetry, its art,

its eloquence and its scholarship, are as much portions of its

existence as its agriculture, its commerce, and its engineering

skill. Nay, I would go further, I would say that without these

qualities, material excellence cannot be attained.”

That is the true doctrine. The spirit of nationality is the spirit of

life. Material progress itself springs from national freedom.

XIII.—The History Of Devolution. BY THE EARL OF DUNRAVEN

Before attempting to sketch the history of devolution in connection with

Ireland, two somewhat remarkable facts should be mentioned. A widespread

impression appears to exist that devolution as a means for solving the

Irish political problem is a modern invention, and that I am, in a large

measure, responsible for its introduction. I must in honesty disclaim the

honour. There is nothing new either in the expression or in its

application to Ireland. The term has been freely used by many statesmen,

and, as I think I can demonstrate, the advocacy of a scheme of Devolution

for Ireland has not been confined to any one of the two great political

parties of the State.

The second remarkable fact in connection with devolution, in its latest

expression, is the hostile attitude assumed towards it by the Nationalist

party. That the programme, modest as it was, published by the Irish Reform

Association in 1904 should have been assailed by many Unionists was

natural enough, but that any Nationalists should have denounced it with

equal or greater bitterness is very difficult to account for. The wiser

spirits welcomed the movement. The leader of the party—Mr. John

Redmond—alluding to us in America, said: “With these men with us Home Rule

may come at any moment,” and the Convention of the United Irish League of

America spoke of our action as “a victory unparalleled in the whole

history of moral warfare.” But Mr. John Dillon and Mr. Michael Davitt took

a very different view and condemned us in no measured terms. Mr. Davitt at

Clonmacnoise on September 4th, 1904, said: “If we are foolish enough to be

wiled by Lord Dunraven and Mr. George Wyndham, who is possibly behind this

wooden-horse stratagem, we will richly merit the contempt of our race and

friends everywhere for so abject a surrender of the National Movement,”

and at Enniscorthy, far from agreeing with Mr. Redmond that our assistance

was of the greatest value to the cause of Home Rule, he declared that: “No

party or leader can consent to accept the Dunraven substitute without

betraying a national trust.” Mr. Dillon at Sligo accused devolution of

being a scheme to “break National unity in Ireland and to block the

advance of the Nationalist cause.”

Unfortunately these sentiments prevailed, and every effort was made to

discredit and obstruct the movement. The attitude adopted towards

devolution is natural on the part of anyone whose aim is separation; but,

failing that, can be accounted for only by the animosity displayed by the

inner group of the party to any expression of opinion, unauthorised by

their official stamp. Devolution was anathematised simply because it was

suggested as a method of political reform by persons who did not

necessarily recognise the infallibility of the Party. It is impossible to

believe that by any contortion of thought the theory was really looked

upon as a cunningly constructed device for countering, or in some way

undermining, Home Rule, for whatever opinion might be held about the

personal honesty of myself and those associated with me, very little

examination into the question would have sufficed to dispel that delusion.

Home Rule up to a point necessarily implies devolution. Devolution is up

to a point the same thing as Home Rule. The difference lies in this. Home

Rule may be held to mean, has been held to mean, and is now by some held

to mean, repeal of the union and separation. Devolution means, and can

only mean, as applicable to the existing state of things—the delegation by

the one existing authority—the Imperial Parliament—of power to a

Parliament or body—call it what you will—created to exercise the power

delegated to it. The term of necessity implies supremacy and subordinacy.

Devolution may be confined to administration, as for instance in the

abortive Irish Councils Bill of 1907; or to legislative functions

conferring a status analogous to that of Grattan’s Parliament, which while

enjoying full legislative power exercised practically no executive

authority whatever; or it may embrace all the functions of government. The

devolution may be large or small, confined or comprehensive. There is no

limit save one to the delegating power of the central authority. It can

confer whatever legislative and executive functions it pleases, but it

cannot divest itself of its power of resumption, and it must remain

supreme.

It will be seen therefore that devolution does not connote separation. It

is incompatible with repeal, but it is compatible with—it is in fact

indistinguishable from, any conception of Home Rule that acknowledges the

supremacy of the Imperial Parliament. It is applicable to propositions of

reform however small or however large. The modest little Councils Bill

already alluded to proceeded by devolution. Complete reconstruction of the

United Kingdom on federal lines can be accomplished only by devolution,

for to commence operations by restoring Wales to the position she occupied

in 1284, and Scotland and Ireland to the status they respectively held in

1707 and 1800, and then to invite them to enter a federal union would be

an idea worthy of the pen of a Lewis Carroll in a sort of political “Alice

in Wonderland.” Ireland’s political problem can be solved only in one of

two ways. She must be granted either absolute independence tempered only

by the precarious tie of a common Crown, or legislative and administrative

powers delegated by a superior to a subordinate Parliament. By Home Rule

separation may be meant. Separation would, in my opinion, be disastrous to

Great Britain and fatal to Ireland. Devolution would be beneficial to

both, and it is because the term draws a clear distinction between

independence and any form of autonomy short of independence, that I prefer

to call myself a Devolutionist rather than a Home Ruler.

That devolution to a local authority, or to local authorities, is the

proper remedy for evils affecting Great Britain and Ireland, has been, for

various reasons, admitted by responsible statesmen during the last fifty

years. As long ago as 1865 the late Lord Salisbury, then Lord Robert

Cecil, enquiring why “a people with so wonderful a soil, with such

enormous resources (as the Irish) lagged so far behind the English in the

race?” and examining critically all the usual reasons assigned, came to

the conclusion that the cause was not to be found in any of them, but was

to be sought for in the system of government. “I am afraid,” he said,

“that the one thing which has been peculiar to Ireland has been the

Government of England.” About the same time Lord Beaconsfield went so far

as to indicate his desire for a federal arrangement. In a conversation

with the American Ambassador in London in the early ’seventies he stated

that: “If he had to deal with the situation he would propose to place

Ireland in a similar position that New York held in the Federal

Government.” In 1879 Mr. Gladstone advocated devolution, and devolution on

federal lines, for the relief of Parliament.

“I desire,” he said, “I may almost say I intensely desire, to see

Parliament relieved of some portion of its duties.... We have got

an over-weighted Parliament; and if Ireland, or any other portion

of the country, is desirous and able so to arrange its affairs

that by taking the local part, or some local part, of its

transactions off the hands of Parliament, it can liberate and

strengthen Parliament for Imperial concerns, I say I will not only

accord a reluctant assent, but I will give a zealous support to

any such scheme.”

After indicating that the only limit he knew to the extension of local

government was the limit imposed by the necessity of maintaining the

supremacy of the Imperial Parliament, he went on to say:

“I will consent to give to Ireland no principle, nothing that is

not upon equal terms offered to Scotland and to the different

parts of the United Kingdom. But I say that the man who shall

devise a machinery by which some portion of the excessive and

impossible task now laid upon the House of Commons shall be

shifted to the more free, and therefore more efficient, hands of

secondary and local authorities, will confer a blessing upon his

country that will entitle him to be reckoned among the prominent

benefactors of the land.”

In 1885 Mr. Gladstone, the Duke of Devonshire and Mr. Chamberlain all

spoke in favour of devolution. The “Radical programme,” published with a

preface by Mr. Chamberlain, before the General Election of that year,

advocated the creation, in addition to County Councils and District

Councils, of elected National Councils for Ireland, Scotland, and (if

desired by the Welsh) Wales, to take over part of the duties of the

central administration, and also to deal with private Bills, but

apparently not with other matters of legislation. The appointment of a

Secretary for Scotland had not then been decided upon, but the subject was

under discussion, and the writer doubtless expected that greater attention

to Scotch legislation would be secured by that means. In the course of his

argument he said:

“Before dealing, as we presently shall at some length, with the

case of Ireland, it seems well to say a few words on another

object of the first importance, which can be accomplished only in

connection with some such extension of the principles of local

government as we are now considering. Recent experience has made

it perfectly clear that Parliamentary Government is being exposed

to a strain for which it may prove unequal. The overwhelming work

thrown upon the Imperial Legislature is too much for its

machinery.... The Imperial evil is not less than the domestic.

What, for instance, can be more deplorable than the systematic

neglect at Westminster of Colonial and Indian topics of the

highest moment? It is obvious that no mere extension of local

government upon the ordinary and restricted lines will relieve the

Parliamentary congestion which has long since become a national

calamity.”

The late Duke of Devonshire expressed, for so cautious a man, pretty

strong views on the imperfections of “Castle Government” and on the

advantages of devolution. Speaking in Belfast on November 5th, 1885, he

defended the Irish Government against accusations which he considered

unjust, but added:

“At the same time, I am perfectly willing to admit that it is very

possible and even probable, that the Irish Government as now

constituted is not the best fitted in all respects to discharge,

still less to undertake new and more important duties. I would not

shrink from a great and bold reconstruction of Irish

government....”

He explained that, in his opinion, considerable power ought to be left in

the hands of the executive, but added:

“I would endeavour so to frame those powers as to make them

capable of relaxation, perhaps ultimately of relinquishment, in

response to any proof we may receive from the Irish people of

their fitness for self-government, their fitness for the

assumption of those responsibilities.”

Later in the same year, Mr. Gladstone, in his address to the electors of

Midlothian, used the word “devolution” as, I believe, for the first time

in connection with the Parliamentary problem due to the over-pressure of

work. He said:

“It has gratified me to find abundant proof that the country was,

and is, fully alive to the vital importance of devolution.... The

task of the House of Commons in our time has habitually exceeded

what had ever been imposed upon a legislative body in the whole

history of the world.... I desire to point out the three cardinal

points of the question. First, the congestion of business, now

notorious and inveterate, degrades the House of Commons by placing

it at the mercy of those among its members who seek for notoriety

by obstructing business, instead of pursuing the more honourable

road to reputation by useful service, or of those who, with more

semblance of warrant, seek to cripple the action of the House of

Commons in order to force the acceptance of their own political

projects. Secondly, it disappoints, irritates, and injures the

country by the suspension of useful legislation. And lastly, and

perhaps worst of all, it defeats the fundamental rule of our

Parliamentary system—that the majority shall prevail.... This

country will not, in the full sense, be a self-governing country

until the machinery of the House of Commons is amended, and its

procedure reformed.”

It is possible that Mr. Gladstone had in his mind reform of procedure of

the nature of devolution to bodies within the House of Commons such as

Grand Committees; but in view of his former utterances it is probable that

he foresaw the necessity for devolution on a larger scale.

Mr. Chamberlain continued, even during the Home Rule controversy, faithful

in his advocacy of devolution. In a manifesto to his supporters, issued on

July 11th, 1886, he appealed to the moderate opinion in Great Britain for

a “delegation not a surrender of power,” on the part of the Imperial

Parliament. He outlined his political aims in the following succinct

statement:

The objects to be kept in view are:

(1) To relieve the Imperial Parliament by devolution of Irish

local business, and to set it free for other and more important

work.

(2) To secure the free representation of Irish opinion in all

matters of purely Irish concern.

(3) To offer to Irishmen a fair field for legitimate local

ambition and patriotism, and to bring back the attention of the

Irish people, now diverted to a barren conflict in the Imperial

Parliament, to the practical consideration of their own wants and

necessities.

And, lastly, by removing all unnecessary interference with Irish

Government on the part of Great Britain, to diminish the causes of

irritation and the opportunity of collision.

Mr. Chamberlain was acutely aware of the intimate connection between

political and agrarian reform, and outlined a general constructive policy

which was adopted up to a point later on by the Unionist party under the

inspiration of Mr. George Wyndham:

“It is clear,” said Mr. Chamberlain, “that suggested land reform

must precede the political change; and until the long-standing

quarrel between land-owners and land-occupiers has been

compounded, it will not be safe to trust the latter with full

control over the property of the former.... But, assuming that the

social war which now exists in Ireland were terminated by a

reasonable settlement, there are strong reasons for desiring, on

the one hand, to relieve the Imperial Parliament of some of the

constantly increasing burden of its local work, and, on the other

hand, to open up to Irishmen in their own country a larger field

of local ambition, together with greater liberty of action and

greater personal responsibility.”

The Duke of Devonshire also expressed himself in favour of devolution,

provided that “the powers which may be conferred on local bodies should be

delegated—not surrendered—by Parliament”; that “the subjects to be

delegated should be clearly defined; and the right of Parliament to

control and revise the action of legislative or administrative authorities

should be quite clearly reserved”; but he urged that “the administration

of justice ought to remain in the hands of an authority which is

responsible to Parliament.”

As recently as April, 1893, in the course of an article in _The Nineteenth

Century_ Mr. Chamberlain stated that “every Liberal Unionist will readily

agree” with a desire “to give to Ireland the management of such of its

affairs as can be handed over to an Irish Assembly without any risk or

danger to this country, and, I hope that I may add, without the loss of

honour that would be involved if the property and the liberties of all Her

Majesty’s subjects were not fully safeguarded.” It is evident that the

Liberal Unionist seceders drew a sharp distinction between separation and

devolution. They objected to Mr. Gladstone’s Bills because rightly or

wrongly they were convinced that they involved separation; but while

opposing them on that ground they held fast to their belief in the

efficacy of devolution.

After 1893 devolution was little heard of, but about ten years later the

theory was revived in the movement with which I became associated. This

modern suggestion of devolution was an offspring of the Conference on the

land question which was held during the winter of 1902. That Conference

produced a profound impression not only on the individuals composing it,

but also, with a few exceptions of a retrogressive or perverted type, upon

the classes represented, and consequently upon the whole community. The

land had been for generations, and for centuries, the cause of bitter

strife. The parties represented—indeed some of the individuals

representing them had come straight out of the firing line to confer upon

a question bristling with difficulties and overlain with passion and

prejudice. The Landlords’ Convention not unnaturally laughed to scorn the

idea of a settlement or even of amicable discussion; but they were

wrong—prejudice and passion were put aside and the difficulties were

overcome.

The Land Conference—an inspiration of the inarticulate moderate opinion

existing in Ireland—proved that frank and honest discussion between

Irishmen holding opposing views could be productive of good results, and

it naturally occurred to many of those interested that the tolerance, good

feeling and good sense displayed in settling so vexed a question might be

utilised to find a solution for other problems, social, economic and

political, presenting difficulties of a less formidable character.

On March 3rd, 1903, five members of the Land Conference Committee issued a

circular stating that it was “now becoming evident that only in a

reasonable system of devolution of legislative powers is to be found the

solution of the problem that demands such urgent consideration. In no

other way can Parliament be relieved from the ever-increasing strain of

public business or the legitimate aspirations of Ireland for some definite

form of self-government be met.”

The idea was a good one, but somewhat premature. The Land Conference

Committee having been appointed for a definite purpose—the settlement of

the land question, which had not then been fulfilled, had no authority to

deal with any other matter. All men’s minds were still occupied with the

consideration of the land purchase problem, and obviously the moment was

not suitable for a further step forward. The matter was therefore allowed

to drop; but in the summer of 1904, the way for the new—but yet old—policy

seemed open. The Land Conference had fulfilled its purpose. The Committee

was about to dissolve, and it occurred to some of us that a meeting should

be held in Dublin with a view to inaugurating a general policy for the

betterment of Ireland. In preparation for the meeting I sketched out

roughly what I thought our objects should be, and among them was a larger

control for Ireland over her local affairs. The Committee met on August

25th, and two resolutions were passed, one dissolving the Committee and

another forming the Irish Reform Association. We then set to work to

consider a programme, and on August 26th we adopted the following as

setting forth the objects of the Association:

“Believing, as we do, that the prosperity of the people of

Ireland, the development of the resources of the country, and the

satisfactory settlement of the land and other questions, depend

upon the pursuance of a policy of conciliation and goodwill and of

reform, we desire to do everything in our power to promote a union

of all moderate and progressive opinion, irrespective of creed or

class; to discourage sectarian strife and class animosities from

whatever source arising; to co-operate in re-creating and

promoting industrial enterprises; and to advocate all practical

measures of reform.

“While firmly maintaining that the parliamentary union between

Great Britain and Ireland is essential to the political stability

of the Empire, and to the prosperity of the two islands, we

believe that such union is compatible with the devolution to

Ireland of a larger measure of local government than she now

possesses.

“We consider that this devolution, while avoiding matters of

Imperial concern, and subjects of common interest to the Kingdom

as a whole, would be beneficial to Ireland, and would relieve the

Imperial Parliament of a mass of business with which it cannot now

deal satisfactorily, and which occupies its time to the detriment

of much more important concerns. In particular, we consider the

present system of financial administration to be wasteful and

inappreciative of the needs of the country.

“We think it possible to devise a system of Irish finance whereby

the expenditure could be conducted in a more efficient and

economic manner, and whereby the sources of revenue might be

expanded. We believe that a remedy for the present unsatisfactory

system can be found in such a decentralisation or localisation of

Irish finance as will secure to its administration the application

of local knowledge, interest and ability, without in any way

sacrificing the ultimate control over the estimates presented, or

in respect of the audit of money expended, at present possessed by

the Imperial Parliament. All moneys derived from administrative

reform, together with whatever proportion of the general revenue

is allocated to Irish purposes, should be administered subject to

the above conditions.

“We think that the time has come to extend to Ireland the system

of Private Bill Legislation which has been so successfully worked

in Scotland, with such modifications as Scotch experience may

suggest, as may be necessary to meet the requirements of this

country.

“We are of opinion that a settlement of the question of higher

education is urgently needed, and that the whole system of

education in this country requires remodelling and co-ordinating.

“We desire to do all in our power to further the policy of land

purchase in the spirit of, and on the general lines laid down in,

the Land Conference Report.

“We consider that suitable provision for the housing of the

labouring classes is of the utmost importance, and we shall be

prepared to co-operate in any practical proposals having the

betterment of this class in view.

“Among many other problems already existing, or which may arise in

the future, the above-mentioned appear to us to comprise those

most deserving of immediate attention, and which afford the most

reasonable prospect of attaining practical results; towards their

solution we earnestly invite the co-operation of all Irishmen who

have the highest interests of their country at heart.”

The programme was, as will be seen, socially and economically a

comprehensive one; but, so far as political reform was concerned, limited

to the devolution of administrative functions and reform of Private Bill

procedure.

Shortly afterwards we explained our views more in detail, and made a

further suggestion in recommending a delegation, not only of

administrative, but also of legislative functions to the Irish body. On

this point, and after giving our reasons for desiring a Private Bill

Procedure Act for Ireland, we said:

“... But the disabilities under which Ireland labours are not

confined to Private Bill procedure. The problems that affect her

well-being, the peculiarities of her position and requirements are

such that similarity of treatment does not always involve equal

justice ... under existing circumstances the special needs of

Ireland do not, and cannot receive, adequate attention. Sufficient

relief cannot, in our opinion, be afforded by mere amendment in

the Standing Orders of the House of Commons. Some delegation of

authority is necessary. We believe that power to deal with much of

the business relating to Irish affairs which Parliament is at

present unable to cope with, might, with perfect safety and with

advantage both to Ireland and Parliament, be delegated to an Irish

body to be constituted for the purpose.... Parliament should take

power to refer to the Statutory Body not only business connected

with Private Bill Legislation, but also such other matters as in

its wisdom it may deem suitable for reference, under prescribed

conditions. The experience gained by this method of _ad hoc_

reference would materially assist Parliament in the ultimate

grouping into distinct classes of matters to be referred to the

Statutory Body.”

The document is far too long to quote in full. We dealt critically with

the Irish problem as it presented itself to us then, and concluded with a

recommendation which, if it had been acted upon, would by now have borne

fruit in the shape of information of great value, to the public.

“... We do not consider it now opportune,” we said, “to make more

definite proposals on the points herein raised. We are prepared to

inquire fully into them if the Association so desire, but we

submit that inquiry can be best conducted by means of a Royal

Commission, and that the proper function of this Association is to

place its opinions and propositions before such a Commission. We

therefore recommend the Association to use its best endeavours to

secure the appointment of a Commission, and to instruct this or

some other Committee to prepare a detailed report for its

consideration, with a view to placing the same in evidence before

the Commission....”

In preparing this second programme we had the invaluable assistance of Sir

Antony MacDonnell (now Lord MacDonnell of Swynford) who occupied the

position of Under-Secretary, but on somewhat peculiar terms. Our

proposals, which are to be found in full in “The Outlook in Ireland,”

published for me by Mr. John Murray in 1907, may be considered as cramped

and limited in character, but the circumstances in which we found

ourselves must be considered. We had to deal with existing conditions. A

Unionist administration was in power. Home Rule was in abeyance, by many

looked upon as dead and decently buried out of sight for ever. But the

Chief Secretary and Under-Secretary were pledged to a policy of

administrative and economic reform, and the latter was known to be in

favour of some modification of the terms of the legislative union.

It is not necessary to re-open the controversy as to the connivance of the

Unionist party, or any of its members, with the early work of myself and

others.(158) No ministerial or official comment was made on our first

programme published on August 31st, 1904. Mr. Wyndham was away at the time

and in his absence I consulted with the Permanent Under-Secretary for

Ireland, a proceeding which I felt sure, would meet with the Chief

Secretary’s approval. The Unionist Lord-Lieutenant, the Earl of Dudley,

was also cognisant of the movement. The second programme was published on

September 26th of that year, and on the following day a letter from Mr.

Wyndham commenting upon it appeared in _The Times_. After criticising our

proposals he said “without reserve or qualification that the Unionist

Government is opposed to the multiplication of legislative bodies within

the United Kingdom,” and declared that such of our “aspirations” as were

“unimpeachable” were “prejudiced and not enhanced when they are confused

with any plan, however tentative, for the multiplication of legislative

assemblies within the limits of the United Kingdom.” Mr. George Wyndham,

in order not to embarrass his party, resigned his office, but Lord Dudley

remained Lord-Lieutenant after Mr. Walter Long had become Chief Secretary.

In some later correspondence, published in the spring of 1906, with Sir

Edward Carson, Lord Dudley after relinquishing his office stated:

“(1) That though I fully explained to the late Prime Minister the

nature of my connection with what you describe as Sir A.

MacDonnell’s Home Rule scheme, he never conveyed to me any

intimation that he or the Government disapproved, strongly or

otherwise, of my conduct, though, of course, I can well believe

that you and a few other Ministers disapproved not only of the

devolution proposals, but also of any attempt at governing Ireland

in sympathy with Irish ideas.

“(2) That I was never asked for and never gave any assurance that

it was no longer my intention to act in a manner at variance with

my position as a Unionist Lord-Lieutenant. It was not my opinion

then, nor is it now, that I ever so acted, and I do not consider

that my knowledge of the devolution proposal, still less my

conviction that Ireland should be governed according to Irish

ideas, is inconsistent with the position which I occupied.”

Devolution held the field when a Liberal administration came into power in

1906 and found expression in the Councils Bill. That Bill practically gave

to an Irish body control over the great spending departments. It embodied

devolution on a large scale, but entirely confined to administration. The

Liberal party had passed a self-denying ordinance in respect to Home Rule

while still in opposition. Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, speaking at

Stirling on November 23rd, 1905, said it was “his desire to see the

effective management of Irish affairs in the hands of a representative

Irish authority”; but he advised Irish Nationalists thankfully to take “an

instalment of representative control” ... “or any administrative

improvement” ... “provided it was consistent, and led up to their larger

policy.” We have it on the authority of Mr. T. P. O’Connor that this

declaration “was all that the Irish Nationalist party could have expected

at that moment, and it enabled them to give their full support at the

elections to the Liberal party”; and, in alluding to the private

breakfast-table conference between himself, a friend and Sir Henry

Campbell-Bannerman, he informs us that “the exchange of views was brief,

for there was complete agreement as to both policy and tactics.” Mr.

Redmond also, speaking at Motherwell a couple of days after the Stirling

speech, announced his readiness to accept any concession “which would

shorten and smooth the way to Home Rule.”

Notwithstanding these plain declarations Mr. Redmond, having accepted the

Councils Bill in the House of Commons, moved its rejection at the National

Convention and endeavoured to justify his action at the expense of

devolutionists by protesting “that the responsibility for this Bill

largely rests upon those who first encouraged this idea of devolution”—a

protest in which Mr. T. P. O’Connor joined him. The truth is that in their

Councils Bill the Government went in principle as far as they could under

the circumstances. The idea that they, or the Irish Reform Association in

general, and I myself in particular, were actuated by a desire to shelve

Home Rule by substituting a measure of administrative reform, is

pre-eminently absurd. The tactics pursued by the Nationalist party towards

the Irish Reform Association and the Government were most unwise. The

Association would, had it received the support it deserved, have certainly

organised and rendered articulate a body of moderate opinion strong enough

to neutralise any immoderate demonstration against the principle of Home

Rule on religious, racial, or social grounds. Had the Councils Bill been

amended and accepted by Ireland, and, as is probable, had it been passed

into law, Ireland would have had an opportunity, which she would have

availed herself of, of proving her aptitude to manage her own affairs, and

she would be now in a position of inestimable advantage to her. But

neither I nor the Reform Association considered the Bill as satisfying

Ireland’s reasonable demands. We looked upon it as valuable in itself _pro

tanto_ and as the honest effort of a Government with self-imposed limits

to do justice to Ireland. The Association having considered the matter,

passed and published a series of resolutions which space forbids me from

quoting in full. To summarise, we criticised the limited transfer of

departmental authority, and considered the financial proposals of the Bill

insufficient. We regretted “that the Bill entirely excludes consideration

of any powers of a legislative character.” But, as we thought the Bill

constituted an advance towards necessary reforms and was capable of

amendment in Committee, we expressed our regret at its summary rejection

by the National Convention.

Such is the story of the devolution movement in its modern expression.

Devolution is an elastic though not a vague term. As I have already said,

it is incompatible with repeal of the Union. It predicates a union of some

sort—connection with a superior delegating authority, but under that union

and subject to that authority its powers of expansion are unlimited. If I

may be allowed to quote from myself, an evil habit, I thus defined my

position in 1907. I then declared it was:

“... my ambition to see:—

“(1) Cordial, honest co-operation among Irishmen for their

country’s good. A true, living sense of Irish nationality is

necessary. Ireland united can accomplish anything in reason.

“(2) The exercise of moderation and common-sense on the part of

Irishmen.

“(3) The creation of friendly, fraternal relations between Great

Britain and Ireland on both sides—‘let the dead bury their dead.’

“(4) Recognition by Ireland of: (_a_) Her Imperial mission, her

share in the larger nationality covered by the Flag, and her

consequent duties and responsibilities; and (_b_) of the political

necessities of Great Britain.

“(5) Recognition by Great Britain of: (_a_) Irish nationality; and

(_b_) of the economic and social requirements of Ireland, and of

her just claim for exceptional treatment.”

and I concluded by saying:

“... My political creed is clear and simple. One Parliament is my

centre; its ultimate effective supremacy is my circumference; but,

emanating from that centre, and within that circumscribing limit,

I desire to see the largest possible freedom of action and

self-governing power delegated to Ireland.”

That was the opinion I then held and, in its general principles, that is

the opinion I hold now. I have endeavoured to obtain such a measure of

devolution as was at the time practical of attainment. My ideal is

devolution on federal lines—that is to say, devolution of a character as

nearly analogous as circumstances permit, to such an arrangement as would

be come to between co-ordinate legislatures federating for their mutual

advantages.

It has been necessary to recall the public declarations of statesmen of

the Victorian period in order to get a true conception of the devolution

movement in proper perspective. Among English statesmen of the front rank

we find Lord Beaconsfield, Lord Salisbury, the Duke of Devonshire, Mr.

Chamberlain and Mr. Gladstone all admitting the great fact that both for

British and for Irish purposes, some scheme of devolution was necessary.

It would be easy to multiply instances and to give quotations in

profusion, but I have said enough to show that for the last half century

statesmen have, for various reasons, advocated devolution. Upon some the

necessity has been impressed by deliberate obstruction in the House of

Commons, others have been actuated by a desire to relieve congestion and

to restore dignity and efficiency to the Commons House of Parliament. Upon

others again the conviction has been forced that, under the system created

by the Act of Union, Ireland cannot be well governed or contented; and a

few have foreseen that both for domestic and Imperial purposes

reconstruction on federal lines is desirable. Yet, in spite of this

remarkable expression of opinion, nothing has been done, though the

necessity for action has become more and more urgent with every passing

year, and though many of the objections felt in former days can no longer

be entertained. The doubts felt by the Duke of Devonshire as to the

fitness of the Irish people to exercise self-governing power have been

dispelled by experience of the working of the Act of 1898. The settlement

of the land question rightly deemed by Mr. Chamberlain an essential

preliminary to, or accompaniment of, political reform, has been half

accomplished under the Act of 1903, and can be fully accomplished by

reverting to the principles of that Act.

Many attempts have been made to reform procedure within the House of

Commons and all of them have proved inadequate. Owing to an actual

increase of business, and to the growing complexity of domestic affairs,

Parliament is over-burdened with work to a far greater extent to-day than

it was in the seventies and eighties. Since those days the idea of union

on federal lines in the Mother Country, as not only desirable in her

interest, but as also indicating the path to some larger form of union,

has become prevalent. It has become more and more evident that some scheme

of devolution is necessary to enable the Parliamentary machine to deal

with the great industrial questions that perplex us, and to give adequate

consideration to the problems of Imperial policy which press for

consideration. Under these circumstances it is indeed extraordinary that

this great question has not been settled in the only way by which, in my

humble opinion, it can be settled satisfactorily and permanently, namely,

by consent of both the great parties in the State; and it is passing

strange to see the leaders of one of the great parties, despite the

opinions of their predecessors in title, taking up an irreconcilable

attitude towards devolution of any kind. It would be most interesting, but

impossible, within the scope of this article to consider how far

contemporaneous events in Ireland, faulty tactics on the part of Irish

politicians, and the exigencies of party political warfare are

respectively chargeable with this lamentable legislative default. The fact

is the question has never been considered on its merits. The party system

is probably the principal offender, but impatience on the part of the

Irish people, vagueness in the demands put forward by their leaders,

inconvenient alliances, vacillating counsels, a short-sighted policy, and

mistaken tactics are much to blame.

It is a curious circumstance in the historical development of this policy,

that Devolutionists in going forward have come back to the standpoint of

the greatest leader the Tory party ever had. Speaking in the House of

Commons in 1844, Mr. Disraeli is reported in _Hansard_ as saying:

“I always thought that the greatest cause of misery in Ireland was

identity of institutions with England. It has become a great

historical aphorism that Ireland is to be the great difficulty of

the Minister. Now this is an opinion in which I never shared. I

never believed that Ireland would be a great difficulty, because I

felt certain that a Minister of great ability and of great power

would, when he found himself at the head of a great majority,

settle that question. What, then, is the duty of the English

Minister? To effect by his policy all those changes which a

revolution would do by force. That is the Irish question in its

integrity. It is quite evident that to effect this we must have an

Executive in Ireland which shall bear a much nearer relation to

the leading parties and characters of the country than it does at

present.”

These principles Mr. Disraeli declared to be “Tory principles, the

national principles of the democracy of England.” When a quarter of a

century later, and holding a most responsible position, he was challenged

in the House of Commons as to this statement of his views, he still

declared that: “in my historical conscience the sentiment of that speech

was right.”

PART III. CONTEMPORARY VIEWS

XIV.—Irish Nationalism And Liberal Principle. BY PROFESSOR L. T. HOBHOUSE

All through the nineteenth century the cause of subject nationalities was

a constant stimulus to British Liberalism. Successive generations hoped

and feared, wept and rejoiced with the rebels of Greece, of Italy, of

Hungary, of Poland, of the Balkans. Their successes and failures were

events of moment in the calendar of British Liberalism, for they were

recognised as essential parts of the democratic movement, and the

democratic cause was in that century looked upon as one all the world

over. Nor was this sentiment ineffective. The moral support of England was

in those days recognised as an asset to a cause. Individuals gave direct

and tangible assistance, and there were even times when diplomacy moved.

Nationalism, therefore, lay close to the heart of Liberalism. Yet there

was all the time one nationality whose claims were not so readily

understood as those of Greek or Italian, Pole or Bulgar. Ireland was

raising a cry, protesting against grievances, formulating demands, which

to impartial ears sounded very like those of other subject peoples. Here

it seemed was an oppressed nationality at the British Liberal’s own door,

with grievances which he could redress by his own efforts if he would.

Conscious—perhaps a little too conscious—of the rectitude of his

intentions, the British Liberal had some difficulty in seeing himself in

the light of an oppressor. But under Mr. Gladstone’s leadership he learned

his lesson in two stages. He began by learning that there were very real

grievances to be redressed, grievances resulting from the political

subordination of Ireland, in particular the grievances of the Church

Establishment and of the land system. But in the course of his remedial

efforts he learned further that though oppressive government may do much

to hold a nationality together, the redress of grievances does not

necessarily loosen the bonds of national unity. While the Government of

1880-85 still oscillated between concession and coercion, the more

adventurous minds began to realize that what they had preached for Italy,

Hungary, and Poland must in its due measure, and with all reasonable

regard to variation of circumstances, be offered to the Irish people. They

were ready for the second stage upon which Mr. Gladstone entered at the

end of 1885, and in which, after a brief and memorable struggle, he

carried with him the bulk of the Liberal Party. They had learned that the

solution of the Irish question lay not in repressing Irish nationality,

but in trusting it with the responsibility of self-government.

The Unionist leaders who defeated Mr. Gladstone had nevertheless learnt

from him the first of these two lessons. They acquired by degrees a

working knowledge of the material grievances of Ireland, and bit by bit

they dealt with them, confident that by so doing they would undermine the

foundations of the national demand. They reached the first stage of

Liberal education, but refused to advance beyond it. Time, however, has

declared against them. The twenty years of resolute government which Lord

Salisbury once demanded have gone by, broken only by the three years in

the ’nineties, when Liberals held office without legislative power.

Ireland is orderly, and, by comparison with the past, prosperous. But

Ireland is still Nationalist. The result is to leave the main arguments

for Home Rule standing, while several of the old arguments against it are

weakened or brought to naught. The Irish community is economically more

vigorous, and so far more capable of self-support than it was in 1886. It

is no longer a society which can be represented as honeycombed with

conspiracies, or given up to disorder. It is no longer in the grip of a

land system which necessitated an agrarian revolution, either as the

precursor or as the first act of a self-governing Parliament. It is no

longer so overtaxed that to maintain the fiscal balance with Great Britain

would be to impose a permanent tribute on the smaller and poorer island.

But it remains Nationalist, and the unsatisfied national sentiment of

Ireland remains not only a reproach to British Liberalism, but a flaw in

the fabric of our national security.

I dwell on the permanence of Irish nationalism, because in dealing with

nationality, we are confronted with one of those political forces which

may be very real and very stubborn, but which yet are neither measurable

in statistics nor easily compressed into the four corners of a rigid

definition. What precisely is a nationality, it may be asked, and why

should it be so much a matter of concern to Liberals? Liberalism is for

self-government, it is true, but, provided that all parts of a country or

of an empire are equally represented on a democratic franchise in the

governing assembly of the whole, what has the principle of liberty to say

further in the matter? Why should it be on the side of division or against

unity? It is not ever so. On the contrary, national jealousies, rival

patriotisms are constantly thwarting another branch of Liberal endeavour.

It must be frankly recognised that the development of nationality in

Europe is in large measure responsible for the modern recrudescence of

militarism. As a policy of peace and international goodwill, Liberalism

has to make some sacrifices, and take some risks in upholding nationality.

What does it gain in return? If its ideal is humanitarian, why must it

countenance the national idea, self-centred and intolerant as the idea too

often becomes?

The answer to this question is written in the history of the dealings of

Governments with subject nationalities, Irish or other. The primary object

of political Liberalism is to found Government on freedom. This end is not

compassed at a stroke by the simple method of establishing a well-oiled

representative machine. It involves, to deal with externals only, freedom

of speech, of writing, of meeting, of organisation. It involves the

security of personal rights as much against the Executive Government as

against any private aggression. But when a larger nation forcibly

incorporates a smaller one in its system it is easy to see the difficulty

of maintaining order on these lines. A free government in the full sense

of the term must be founded on the voluntary adhesion of the mass of the

people. This adhesion is not necessarily impaired by the conflicts of

interest or conviction which are the inevitable incidents of public life

in any community, and which compel now one section and now another to

submit to laws or acts of government which it resents. As long as each

class feels that its claims, even if overborne in the end, will not be

rejected without adequate understanding and fair consideration, there

exist the elements of government by consent. But a smaller nation forcibly

incorporated in a larger one does not feel this. The very constitution

which is the pride of its masters is the badge of its own subjection. It

may have equality of franchise, but its representatives are in a permanent

minority. By history, by sentiment, perhaps by religion, race, or

language, it has acquired differences of tone and habit. It regards public

questions from a different angle. Its emphasis is different, its

essentials are trifles to other people, and their essentials are its

trifles. Its problems, even when on the surface they appear the same, have

a different historic background, are interwoven with special associations,

complicated with local and peculiar sympathies and animosities. With these

nuances the smaller nation can never hope that the majority will deal,

because the majority can never understand them. Not only so but the

smaller people will have a pride, memory, and hope of its own. It may have

a larger patriotism if its self respect is first consulted, but as long as

its independent being is ignored its only collective ambition will be to

assert itself. Thus in the subject people the milk of social feeling is

turned to gall. All that leads a free people to respect law, to support

Government, to take pride in public prosperity, to sacrifice personal to

common interest, will work in this case only towards discord and civil

strife, and the best men become in a sense the worst citizens. At least

they become the most resolute opponents of the established order. The more

opposition develops, and this means the more life flourishes in the

subject people, the more the tension increases. Presently definite

obstructions arise in the machinery of Government and the ruling

democracy, however liberal in its original intentions, is driven into

“exceptional” legislation. Constitutional rights are curtailed. Legal

securities are suspended, freedom of speech is withheld. These

disabilities may either be confined to the disaffected people, in which

case the principle of equal rights disappears, or to save appearances as

to equality they are made universal, in which case general liberty is

impaired. In either event this original condition is set at naught. The

essentials of political liberty are violated. Wise and moderate

statesmanship may mitigate the mischief. Reactionary statesmanship may

inflame it. But the seeds of trouble will always be there as long as the

foreign body is embedded in the organic tissues.

But it may be asked, are we always to give way to sectional feeling?

History has interwoven many races and they must surely learn to live

together. What of French and British in Canada, or of British and Dutch in

South Africa? What again of Ulster? If Ireland is a nation, does the

nation include the Protestant half of Ulster or does it not? If yes, how

can any of our tests of unity stand? If not, how can we recognize Ireland

as one nation and not as two? Let us take these questions in turn, and let

us consider first the measure and importance to be attached to national

sentiment. We are dealing here, it has been admitted, with a force which

it is impossible to measure _a príorí_ by any external tests. We seem able

to judge it only by the event. If in fact Irish nationalism had yielded to

the redress of definite grievances, if it had been practically possible to

kill Home Rule by kindness, Unionist statesmanship would have been

justified. I do not say justified by success, for success is not a judge

giving decision by rules of equity. It would have been justified rather in

the sense that it would have been experimentally proved to have been

founded on a true interpretation of the case. The Unionist case—at its

best—was that Irish nationalism was a passing and superficial sentiment.

At its core were certain real grievances, but it was swollen into a mass

of imposing appearances, but of loose and flabby texture. The plan was to

remove the grievances with one hand, while with the other every ebullition

of sentiment into unruly speech or action was steadily repressed. Had the

plan succeeded it would have shown that Irish nationality was an illusion,

or at best a thin and insubstantial product of a passing historical phase.

In so far as it has failed it has shown that Irish nationality is a

reality, deep rooted in the past, and to be reckoned with permanently in

the future. In a word the test of nationality lies in history. If the life

of one people can be absorbed into that of another so that free Government

can proceed unimpeded, not violated by the habitual resort to “exceptional

legislation,” the union is justified by the event. If on the other hand

the demand for autonomy remains clear and persistent, through evil report

and good report, through coercion and concession, through adversity and

prosperity, in days of disorder when despair has reigned and in law

abiding times rendered calm by hope, there is the proof that nationality

is a vital principle, and a permanent force with which liberty must make

its account.

How is it then that by the gift of autonomy, time has succeeded in fusing

French and British peoples into the nation of Canada, and why do we see a

similar fusion proceeding between British and Dutch in South Africa? The

question arises partly out of the common confusion between race and

nationality. Race is a matter of physical kinship, and kinship is one of

the bonds that tend to unite people and at the same time in a measure to

separate them from others. But it is only one bond among many. Most modern

nations, our own conspicuously, are blends of many races, and are united

not so much by common ancestry as by the possession of a common country,

common interests, common traditions, a common mode of life and sentiment.

Further, where two or more races are intermixed, there is no means of

endowing them with independent Governments. The same writ must run over

the whole territory. Hence there are three possibilities. One is that one

race should hold the reins of power, as generally happens when white and

black live together. Another is that the country should be governed from

without, and this will generally mean that the administration leans on one

of the races within, and makes of it an “Ascendency” caste. The third is

that the two races should seek to live together and govern themselves with

mutual toleration. This is the experiment which has succeeded in Canada,

and is succeeding so far as the white races are concerned in South Africa,

and which is to be tried in Ireland. In proportion as it succeeds the two

races blend, and a new nationality is formed.

But still it may be asked, why should not Ulster claim to be a nation?

True, she is but a fragment of Ireland, but then Ireland is but a fragment

of the United Kingdom, and St. George’s Channel is not so very formidable

a dividing line as to make all the difference. Our whole argument, it may

be said, has rested on the rights of minorities, and Ulster is a minority.

Why should not Ulster also be a nation? This at once suggests the

counter-question, does Ulster claim to be a nation? Let us bear in mind

that the term Ulster is a mode of speech, and that what is meant by it for

these purposes is half Ulster, or the city of Belfast with some adjacent

counties. Does Belfast, we should more rightly ask, profess and call

itself a nation? Not if its desire is, what we have always understood it

to be, to remain directly subject to the British Parliament. It is in

fact, the focus of an old, but decayed Ascendency caste, and its desire is

to retain what it can save from the wreck of the Ascendency system. With

this demand Liberalism can have no sort of sympathy. If Belfast would

condescend to put her case with a little more moderation, and a little

allowance for the two sides of the question, it would be easier to meet

her views. As long as she declines to make her account with the fact that

the great majority of Ireland is Nationalist, and that British Liberalism

is resolved to do justice at last to nationalism, she rules herself out of

the discussion, and leaves it to British statesmen to act for her rather

than with her. Belfast is a Protestant and industrial centre in a land

which is predominantly Catholic and agricultural. On both counts she may

fear some inequality of treatment, and on both may legitimately receive

guarantees. On the major question, that of religion, every Home Rule

scheme has proposed ample guarantees and the present Bill does not fall

short under this head. The problem of financial and commercial interests

is more complex, but it is difficult to see how an Irish Parliament,

responsible for the financial soundness of the country, could do anything

to cripple the industries of Belfast without being fully aware that in so

doing it would be killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. The

discussion of this question, however, I must leave to those who are

dealing with the financial provisions of the Bill. On the main point we

may ask whether, if the Bill is to pass, Belfast will deliberately and

persistently demand to be left out of its scope, and separated from

Ireland in the sense and degree in which Ireland will be separated from

the direct control of Great Britain. If such a demand is put forward not

merely in order to wreck Home Rule, but as a substantive proposal

seriously intended, it will constitute a new fact. Belfast will then be,

indeed, claiming recognition as a miniature nationality, and the claim

will be fairly weighed. At present it can only be regarded as highly

improbable that such a claim should be maintained or even put forward

except in a fighting mood. That Belfast should sustain her opposition to

the whole Bill is perfectly natural, but given that there is to be Home

Rule as one of the fixed conditions of a settlement, her natural position

is that of a centre and rallying point for the dispersed forces of Irish

Protestantism. That this is her true function in the Irish Parliament,

Belfast must be as well aware as she is that her influence in that

Parliament will be more than proportionate to her numerical strength.

We have spoken of nationality as a centrifugal force, as one of the

influences tending to division. But there is another side to the question.

When a nation obtains self-government it undertakes a new responsibility.

It must keep its own peace, balance its own finances, have regard to its

own common economic interests. This common responsibility does not make

for division. It makes for unity. It enforces a sober regard for the

claims of each part. It dictates a measure of mutual consideration which

is not developed as long as one party within the country is taught to lean

upon an outside power. In the past history of Ireland each party has alike

been taught constantly to look to Westminster for its wants, to

Westminster for redress of grievances, to Westminster perhaps for

vengeance on its foes or at lowest for the means of keeping them in order.

This is not the atmosphere in which mutual toleration grows. When Irishmen

understand that they must go of themselves unaided and uncontrolled from

without they will learn like other men that they must pull together if

they are to keep off the rocks. The national element will have the

majority in the Irish Parliament, and the first object of this element

will be to make Home Rule a success. That they can do only by securing the

co-operation, even if it be the grudging and unadmitted co-operation, of

the opposition. But Belfast is not bound to content herself with these

general probabilities. She has only to formulate intelligible demands

consistent with the establishment of a Dublin Parliament to be assured of

a respectful and considerate hearing. If she would be content to rest her

case on the same basis as that of Irish nationalism itself, recognising

that nationalism must have its rights and submitting only that she in turn

is a lesser nation within a nation, it would be possible to deal with her.

As long as she stands on her own claims she rules herself out of the

discussion.

There are many who regard the recognition of nationality as at best a

regrettable necessity. They lay stress on those centrifugal tendencies

that we have admitted and they feel that the greater need of mankind is

for unity. But the unity which they desire can only come through the

development of life in many different centres and with luxuriant

divergencies of character. The doctrine of Mazzini that every nation had

its own peculiar function to fulfil in the life of humanity was not pure

fancy. It is easy to recognise that the leading modern nations have each,

in fact, contributed something distinctive, something that would have been

blurred and dulled if all had been of one speech and under one rule.

Division has meant unrest, friction, war, and suffering. But it has been a

necessary condition of collective vitality. Self-respect and

self-confidence are necessary to a people that are to do great things, and

these they cannot enjoy to the full so long as they are conscious of a

mastery that galls their pride. Ireland has contributed to our literature

her peculiar strain of humour and of romance, tinged with the melancholy

of her historic ill-fortune. The graver tone and gentler view she will

never lose, for they belong to a people who will always have behind them

the memory of the centuries of that undeserved suffering which opens the

eyes of men to the nature of the human tragedy. But the distinctive Irish

quality may henceforward be shot with a brighter thread catching the light

from her assured future as a nation. As a nation she has her part to play

in the English-speaking Commonwealth, questioning the successful

practicality of a dominant people with the irony, and tempering its prose

with the romance born in the centuries of her probation in the valley of

the shadow.

XV.—The Imperial Parliament

(I) The State Of Parliamentary Business. BY CECIL HARMSWORTH, M.P.

There is one argument for conferring self-government on the people of

Ireland that appeals with irresistible force to many ordinary members of

Imperial Parliament. This is the urgent necessity for relieving Imperial

Parliament of “provincial” business and setting it free to devote its best

energies to the ever-increasing legislative and administrative needs of

the empire.

Every year the amount of business that falls to be transacted in the House

of Commons grows in volume. Every year fresh proofs are afforded that the

legislative machinery of the House of Commons is not only unequal to the

strain imposed by the growing volume of business, but that it is incapable

even of dealing effectively with the affairs that have always been

regarded as coming within its special province. For instance, the House of

Commons has practically lost all control over the details of finance. It

is true that a fairly generous allowance of Parliamentary time is allotted

to the Estimates, but the House rarely, if ever, comes to close grips with

the nation’s balance sheet, or indeed with the details of any particular

vote. Yet a vigilant supervision over finance is one of the primary

functions of the House of Commons.

How far the recently established Select Committee on Estimates will be

able to assist in promoting national economy remains to be seen. The

creation of such a body has not met with universal approval in the House

itself. As in the case of all parliamentary Committees, no matter how

influential their _personnel_, the House as a whole may not be found

willing to accept the decisions of the new Select Committee as

authoritative.

In the sphere of Bill legislation, the condition of things is even worse.

Notwithstanding the desperate shifts which have been resorted to in recent

years to secure the dispatch of business, we are confronted in every

succeeding session with greater congestion in the House of Commons. Big

Bills are hustled through with the aid of every undesirable expedient

known to parliamentary procedure, and little Bills in pathetic shoals are

massacred at the end of each session. The plain fact is that we have not

sufficient time in which to do anything properly. No matter what strain we

impose on the physical endurance of Members, no matter how far we invade

the undoubted privileges of the House of Commons as a deliberative

assembly, Parliament is less and less able to fulfil its manifold duties

as the paramount legislature in a world-wide state. The damage to local

interests is scarcely less serious. Irish finance, for instance, and Irish

legislation suffer from the disability of Imperial Parliament to give them

due consideration.

Let it not be supposed that the House of Commons is unconscious of its own

demerits as a legislative machine. It is nearly sixty years since Sir John

Pakington’s Committee was appointed to consider “whether by any alteration

in the forms and proceedings of this House, the dispatch of public

business would be more effectually promoted.” Committees with similar

references were set up in 1861, in 1878, and in 1886. As a result of these

inquiries two Standing Committees were established at the instance of Mr.

W. H. Smith in 1888. The relegation of measures of the second rank to the

two Standing Committees was expected to lighten the legislative burdens of

the House of Commons very considerably, and this result was in some

measure achieved. But the problem of congestion was so far from being

solved that it was thought necessary to appoint yet another Committee (Sir

Henry Fowler’s) in 1906. This Committee recommended the setting up of four

Standing Committees, and it is under this system that we are now working.

With considerable diffidence I advance the opinion that an even larger use

of Standing Committees might be made than has yet been attempted. Part II.

of the National Insurance Bill was sent “upstairs,” and the result amply

justified what was regarded by cautious Parliamentarians as a daring

experiment. But this part of the Insurance Bill was in a large degree

uncontroversial. The House of Commons is jealous, and naturally jealous,

of its rights over controversial measures of the first class, and has

never yet shown any readiness to accept as conclusive the decisions of

Standing Committees. Nor should it be forgotten that attendance on a

Standing Committee imposes a severe strain on members who are also keenly

interested in the business of the House itself. By the time Mr. Speaker

takes the chair at a quarter to three o’clock, the members of such

Committees have often completed a very fair day’s work.

Meanwhile, other and more questionable expedients for facilitating the

dispatch of business were coming into general use. It is to Mr. Joseph

Ronayne, a member of the Irish Parliamentary Party in the ’seventies of

last century, that we owe the policy of organised and scientific

obstruction in the House of Commons, and, as a consequence, the drastic

use of the closure. Mr. Ronayne was a back-bench member of the Irish

Party, of unobtrusive manners but of settled opinions. He was profoundly

dissatisfied with the unaggressive tactics of Mr. Isaac Butt, the then

leader of the Irish Party.

“We will never make any impression on the House,” he said, “until

we interfere in English business. At present Englishmen manage

their own affairs in their own way, without any interference from

us. Then, when we want to get our business through, they stop us.

We ought to show them that two can play at this game of

obstruction. Let us interfere in English legislation; let us show

them that if we are not strong enough to get our own work done, we

are strong enough to prevent them from getting theirs.”(159)

Mr. Ronayne found in Mr. Joseph Gillis Biggar an apt pupil. Mr. Biggar

used to say: “The English stop our Bills. Why don’t we stop their Bills?

That’s the thing to do. No Irish Bills; but stop English Bills. No

legislation; that’s the policy, sir, that’s the policy. Butt’s a fool, too

gentlemanly; we’re all too gentlemanly.” Mr. Biggar’s oratory is happily

now only a tradition. It was not good oratory of any kind, but it effected

its purpose. More skilful exponents of the art of obstruction have

appeared since Mr. Biggar’s day, but none more successful. The expedient

may have been justifiable in the case of a small minority struggling

unavailingly against an overwhelming and indifferent majority. It is quite

true that during the mild reign of Mr. Butt the British political parties

treated legislative proposals emanating from the Irish Parliamentary Party

with scant courtesy. It is equally true that obstruction in the House of

Commons proved a potent incentive to the more careful consideration of

Irish claims. We have travelled far since those days, but obstruction

remains as one of the most formidable weapons in the armoury of an

opposition. The British political parties have, when in opposition, made

full use of a device that Mr. Butt regarded as “undignified, useless, and

mischievous.” And not only is obstruction with us, but its hateful if

necessary corollary, the closure, has tended every year to become more

oppressive. The parliamentary historian of the future will note that it

was on June 10th, 1887, that “closure by guillotine,” that monstrous

variant of an accursed type, was first proposed in the House of Commons. A

few days later the guillotine fell on several of the most important

clauses of a new Crimes Bill. So closely associated with Ireland are the

most recent and most detrimental changes in the procedure that governs the

debates in our Imperial Parliament!

Obstruction or no obstruction, closure by guillotine or by compartments

has come to stay as long as our Parliament attempts the otherwise

impossible task of legislating for several provinces, and an empire at the

same time. Nowadays almost every great Bill is subjected sooner or later

to the guillotine. Let us see what this means. A debate in Committee, let

us say, has been in progress for some days or weeks. Discussion has been

free, and only occasionally, perhaps, has the ordinary form of closure

been exercised. A bare half dozen clauses have been disposed of. There

remain four or five score more clauses and a motley group of schedules. It

becomes obvious that unless something is done to speed up the machinery,

the Bill will never get through the House. Then it is that the leader of

the House braces himself to his most unwelcome task, and, rising in his

place, proposes a rigid time-table for the discussion of the remaining

clauses and schedules. A certain number of days are allotted, and to each

portion of time is allotted a section of the Bill. Thus, a whole

Parliamentary day may be allotted to three clauses. The whole of this day,

perhaps, is spent in debating the first line of the first of the three

clauses. However this may be, the guillotine falls with remorseless

severity at the end of the allotted day, and only Government amendments to

the undiscussed parts of the three clauses are taken. Could anything be

more clumsy? Was it possible for the ingenuity of man to invent a less

businesslike remedy for the congestion of business in Parliament? Indeed,

the absurdity of the system is universally acknowledged. I know of no more

distressing spectacle than that of the leader of the House of Commons

exerting himself to excuse a policy that he, in common with all who

reverence the House of Commons, holds in detestation. On such occasions as

this, the arguments advanced for what is confessedly a rude invasion of

the rights of free speech are of a set pattern. It is urged that the

debate has now been in progress for so many days or weeks, and that little

advance has been made. Regret is expressed that resort should be had to

such an unpopular device as the guillotine. But by what other means, it is

asked, is a Government to carry controversial measures? After all, the

time-table proposed is a generous one, having regard to all the

circumstances of the case, and is certainly more generous than that

allowed by the party opposite on such and such an occasion in the past.

The leader of the Opposition, in rising, lays his hand on his heart and

calls the House to witness that if on former occasions he has made use of

the guillotine, he has done so far less frequently than the head of the

present administration, and with an entire absence of the levity that

marks the present proceedings. The guillotine resolution is carried. There

are ineffectual ebullitions of wrath on the opposition side of the House,

and there are sinking hearts on the Ministerial Benches. On every such

occasion it is felt in all parts of the House that a deadly blow has been

aimed at the dignity and the prestige of Parliament.

But the House of Commons is meant to be a deliberative assembly! It holds

still the highest place among the democratic assemblies of the world, and

its rules and forms and customs have been adopted with unquestioning

veneration, wherever democratic communities have set up legislating for

themselves. In point of _personnel_, recent Parliaments have shown no

falling off from the standards of other days. In manners, in public

spirit, in devotion to parliamentary duty, and in the range of their

knowledge and experience, the members of the present Parliament compare

most favourably with their predecessors in any Parliament in our history.

If they are gagged and closured and guillotined, it is not because their

speeches would be unworthy of the place or of the occasion. The simple

reason is that there is no time for them. The mother of Parliaments is

trying to do the work of four or five Parliaments, and is signally failing

in the attempt.

Let this be noted. Though the outcry against the guillotine closure,

whenever it is proposed to be exercised, is loudest on the opposition side

of the House, the guillotine operates just as much to the disadvantage of

private members on the Government side. They are expected to support the

Government Bill in broad outline, but they are under no obligation to

support it in every detail. They entertain, and are entitled to entertain,

their own views as to points of detail, and are no more willing than

members opposite that their pet amendments should be sacrificed

arbitrarily at the end of an allotted day. Indeed, since they are, _ex

hypothesi_, devoted to the main principles of the Bill, they are likely to

be even more solicitous than members of the Opposition that the Bill

should be as perfect in detail as in its general scope. Little wonder that

under the operation of the guillotine, private Ministerial members tend

more and more to become passive and, in the long run, indifferent

spectators of the drama that is enacted on the floor of the House when a

great Bill is going through, and it is in this respect and not in any

other, I think, that modern Parliaments are inferior to others.

There are other aspects of the question that might be dwelt on at some

length, if this were the proper occasion. Since it is recognised in all

parts of the House that a great measure is not and cannot be adequately

discussed under the guillotine closure, a dangerous practice has grown up

of leaving difficult matters to be decided by Government departments or by

new authorities set up under the Act. Under the National Insurance Act,

for instance, the Commissioners are invested for certain purposes with all

the legislative prerogatives of the three estates of the realm! I must

leave that matter to the constitutional authorities. I am concerned for

the moment merely to show that the guillotine closure is a clumsy,

unbusinesslike, and dangerous expedient that cannot be regarded as having

solved in any satisfactory degree the eternal problem of congestion in a

Parliament that attempts to cope at the same time with the local affairs

of three or four provinces, and with the affairs of an empire.

Relief might doubtless be found in the more frequent use of what is known

as the “kangaroo” closure. This method of dealing with business in

Committee was first regularized in 1908. Under this system, power is given

to the Chairman to select such Amendments as he believes to be really

important, to the exclusion of others. The burden of responsibility thus

thrown on the Chair is felt to be enormous, and it is chiefly on this

account that the kangaroo closure has been very sparingly exercised.

I say that the setting up of four Standing Committees, and the institution

of the guillotine closure have so far failed to relieve appreciably the

pressure of business in the House of Commons. Another method has been

tried that might reasonably have been expected to produce more fruitful

results. I refer to the prolongation of the session of Parliament. In 1906

we had an autumn sitting. In 1907 we sat until August 28th. In 1908 we had

an autumn sitting. In 1909 we sat for practically the whole year. The

session of 1910 was agreeably diversified by a strenuously contested

General Election at either end of it. In 1911 we had yet another autumn

sitting, and this year we are threatened with a continuous session

extending from February until Christmas time. True enough, a good part of

the work of these sessions was wasted by the action of a House of Lords

which has since lost some of its powers for obstructive mischief, but it

will be observed that of the first class measures destroyed by the Lords,

only two—the Education Bill (in a different form), and the Scotch Small

Holders Bill—have subsequently made considerable demands on the attention

of the House of Commons. The time gained by extending the sittings of

these several Parliaments has been chiefly wanted for new legislation.

Even if the House of Lords had found it convenient to pass the Liberal

measures which it rejected, the pressure of business in the House of

Commons must have necessitated the resort to autumn sittings in two or

three of the years under consideration. Now, it is a commonplace that

autumn sittings are permissible only in very exceptional circumstances.

From the point of view of all Members of Parliament, autumn sittings are

an unqualified disadvantage. Members, like other folk, want their

holidays, and, unlike other folk, have constituencies to look after.

Ministers of the Crown who are members of the House of Commons stand in

even greater need of holidays than private members, and are not less under

obligation to cultivate their constituencies. In addition, they need

leisure for the preparation of the great Government measures that are to

figure in the King’s Speech, Departmental Bills for the ensuing session,

and generally for the overhauling of the work of their departments. It is

astonishing that the work of the great administrative departments should

have been done so well in recent years when regard is had to the extreme

pressure under which Ministers have been working. If Sir H.

Campbell-Bannerman and Mr. Asquith had not had at their command an

abundance of administrative talent of a high quality, there must have been

during the last six years many cases of failure in the management of the

important Parliamentary Offices of State. One of the chief functions of a

Parliamentary Minister in charge of a department is the infusion of new

ideas, the re-assembling and adaptation of old machinery, the bringing up

to date of an organisation that may have served its purpose well in the

past but is no longer adequate to the enlarged requirements of modern

times. For such work as this there must be time for cool deliberation. It

is scarcely possible for the most capable Minister to devise schemes of

administrative reform amidst the excited rumours of the lobbies and the

innumerable distractions of life in the House of Commons. Less responsible

members of the House of Commons than Ministers find that it is well-nigh

impossible to think clearly during the session of Parliament.

Other methods have been proposed for saving time in an overburdened House

of Commons. There is the proposal that measures that have reached a

certain incomplete stage in one session should be revived at the same

stage in the next session of the same Parliament. A Select Committee of

unusual authority discussed this matter in 1890. Among the members of the

Committee were Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Balfour, Mr. Chamberlain, Mr. John

Morley, Mr. Goschen, Sir William Harcourt, the Marquis of Hartington, Mr.

Dillon, Sir Edward Clarke, Mr. T. W. Russell, Mr. Labouchere, and Mr.

Sexton. Proposals for abridging the procedure on partly considered Bills

had been mooted in 1848, in 1861, and again in 1869, but the objects in

view of the earlier Committees entirely differed from those of the

Committee of 1890. The proposal emanated from the House of Lords, and the

original design was to give the Upper House power to hang up Bills coming

from the House of Commons. The Lords complained, as they have often

complained since, that Bills were sent up to them at a period of the

session too late to admit of the exercise of the Lords’ rights of revision

and amendment. They urged, too, and with some force, that Bills were

frequently sent up to them which had not been adequately discussed in the

lower House. They desired, therefore, to possess themselves of the power

to hold over such Bills to another session. Needless to say, such a

proposal as this excited fierce opposition in the House of Commons, and

the deliberations of 1848, 1861, and 1869 came to nothing. The Committee

of 1890 set out with wholly different intentions. Its object was merely to

obviate reiterated arguments in the House of Commons on the same subjects

and to save the time of the House. Thanks in a large measure to Mr.

Balfour’s advocacy the Committee reported that the carrying over of Bills

should become the practice of the House, as it is indeed the practice of

almost every Parliament in Europe. A formidable minority, however, led by

Mr. Gladstone, reported against the proposal, and nothing has yet been

done to give effect to the wishes of the majority. To this day the

“massacre of the innocents” is a melancholy feature of our proceedings at

the end of a session. I doubt myself whether “carrying over” will ever be

adopted as a part of the established and regular practice of the House of

Commons. Ministers look with cold disfavour on the proposal. They are

generally suspicious of private members’ little Bills, and private members

themselves are not ordinarily enthusiastic about the legislative bantlings

of other private members.

One other remedy has been suggested for hastening the dispatch of business

in the House of Commons—the limitation of speeches. For every member who

made speeches in the House of Commons half a century ago fifty make

speeches now. It is not, I think, that we are more loquacious than our

ancestors or more greedy of the ready publicity that is accorded to any

sort of speech in Parliament. Many interests are now represented in

Parliament that were not directly represented at all in the earlier days,

and the problems of a more numerous population and of a more complex

civilisation make corresponding demands on the time of the House of

Commons. The serious man who represents these great new interests in the

House of Commons never consciously squanders the time of the House in

unnecessary speech. No doubt the prevailing fashion of oratory is marked

by diffuseness and lack of discipline, but it is to the comparatively

modern scandal of deliberate obstruction by speech that we owe the

guillotine and all its attendant evils. From time to time there has been

earnest debate as to whether a time limit to speeches should be fixed.

That any such policy is difficult of achievement is proved by the fact

that even the existing Standing Order against irrelevance and tedious

repetition has fallen into almost complete abeyance.

What is the ultimate remedy for the congestion of business in the House of

Commons? Who can doubt that it is the delegation of provincial business to

provincial assemblies? There has been, I say, no lack of expedients. The

setting up of four Grand Committees, the institution of the guillotine as

a regular feature of House of Commons procedure in regard to every

first-class measure, the frequent resort to autumn sittings—these methods

have been tried and found wanting. Little prospect of relief is afforded

by any projected limitation of speeches or by the carrying over of Bills.

Meanwhile, as we have seen, the legitimate claims on the attention of

Parliament grow with the needs of a growing population and of an expanding

empire. In part it is the problem of new wine in old bottles. Our

Parliament was not constructed for its present purposes. Originally it was

the legislature for England alone. The provincial affairs of Scotland were

first imposed on it, and then those of Ireland. Concurrently, the

management of an empire, as varied in its legislative and administrative

requirements as the various climates it enjoys, has been added to our

responsibilities. You may if you like regard our present House of Commons

as an Imperial Legislature stooping from time to time to the consideration

of provincial business, or as a provincial Parliament rising in its

moments of inspiration to the discharge of high Imperial duties. The same

Parliament that has to decide to-day some small matter of purely local

Irish or Scottish concern must settle a national strike to-morrow, approve

the naval strategy of the Empire, or frame the constitution for a people.

To the executive that is responsible to the same Parliament are entrusted

all the tremendous issues of peace and war. It is a supreme testimony to

the genius of the British peoples for government that we have voyaged so

far without shipwreck everywhere except in the region of Irish affairs.

By all admissions we have made a mess of Ireland. With singular and

unwonted perverseness we have refused for more than a hundred years to

apply to Ireland the principles of self-government that have justified

their application in every province of the Empire that is mainly inhabited

by people of our own race. We have risked and we have incurred the

disaffection of the Irish themselves; we have imposed on them and on

ourselves untold suffering and expense; we have imperilled the whole

fabric of our Parliamentary institutions.

It is this last aspect of the problem to which earnest consideration is

invited in these few pages. The efficiency of Imperial Parliament is a

matter of Imperial concern. By no other means than by maintaining Imperial

Parliament at the highest pitch of efficiency can we be assured of good

government throughout the empire. I do not myself shrink from any of the

logical consequences of the line of argument I have adopted. A truly

Imperial Parliament representing England, Ireland and Scotland and, it may

be, each of the more important Dependencies of the Crown—that is the goal

towards which we should press. But the Irish claim, so far as the claims

of the United Kingdom are concerned, was first presented, is most urgent,

and must first be satisfied. If we could but rid our minds of party bias,

Home Rule for Ireland would be universally regarded as the first step

forward in the direction of Imperial efficiency. It is unquestionably a

condition precedent to the re-establishment of our control over our own

legislative machine.