CHAPTER VII.

HOME RULE--ITS FORMS.

[Sidenote: Forms of Home Rule.]

The proposals for giving Ireland Home Rule, in so far as they have taken

any definite shape whatever, have assumed four forms:--

I. Home Rule as Federalism.

II. Home Rule as Colonial Independence.

III. Home Rule as the revival of Grattan's Constitution.

IV. Home Rule under the proposed Gladstonian Constitution.

[Sidenote: Conditions to be satisfied by plan of Home Rule.]

How far Home Rule under these forms, or any one of them, is compatible

with the interests of the English people must be determined by

considering what are the conditions which an acceptable plan of Home

Rule must fulfil, and by then examining how far any given form of Home

Rule satisfies them.

Any scheme of Home Rule which can conceivably be accepted by England

must, it is admitted, satisfy the following conditions.[29]

It must in the first place be consistent with the ultimate supremacy of

the British Parliament.[30]

It must in the second place be just; it must provide that each part of

the United Kingdom take a fair share of Imperial burdens; that the

citizens of each part have equality of rights; that the rights both of

individuals and of minorities be safely guarded.[31]

It must in the third place promise finality; it must be in the nature of

a final settlement of the demands made on behalf of Ireland, and not be

a mere provocation to the revival of fresh demands.

It must, in short, to sum up the whole matter, be, as already insisted

upon, a scheme which promises to England at least not greater evils than

the maintenance of the Union or than Irish independence.

These conditions constitute the touchstone by which any given plan of

Home Rule must be tested. No scheme, however ingenious, can be accepted

which lacks any of these characteristics, namely, the maintenance of

Parliamentary sovereignty--justice--finality.

[Sidenote: General character of Federalism.]

I. _Home Rule as Federalism._--Federal government is the latest

invention of constitutional science. Several circumstances confer upon

it at the present moment extraordinary prestige. It is a piece of

political mechanism which has been found to work with success in three

notorious instances. In its favour is engaged the pride--may we not say

vanity?--of one of the leading nations of the earth. Americans regard

Federalism with pardonable partiality. They are the original inventors

of the best Federal system in the world, and Federalism has made them

the greatest of all free communities. A polity under which the United

States has grown up and flourished, and fought the biggest war which has

been fought during the century, and come out of it victorious, and with

renewed strength, must, it is felt, be a constitution suited for all

nations who aspire to freedom. There is nothing therefore surprising in

the fact that Federalism is supposed to be the panacea for all social

evils, and all political perplexities, or that it should be thrust upon

our attention as the device for bringing England and her colonies into

closer connection, and (not perhaps quite consistently) for relaxing the

connection and terminating the feud between England and Ireland. We

should do well, therefore, to recollect what is the true nature of

Federalism. Federal government, whatever be its merits, is a mere

arrangement for the distribution of political power. It is an

arrangement which requires for its application certain well-defined

conditions.[32]

There must, in the first place, exist a body of countries; such, for

example, as the cantons of Switzerland, or the colonies of America, or

the provinces of Canada, so closely connected by locality, by history,

by race, or the like, as to be capable of bearing in the eyes of their

inhabitants an impress of common nationality. There must, in the second

place, be found among the people of the countries which it is proposed

to unite in Federal union, a very peculiar state of sentiment. They must

desire union; they must not desire unity. Federalism, in short, is in

its nature a scheme for bringing together into closer connection a set

of states, each of which desires, whilst retaining its individuality, to

form together with its neighbours one nation. It is not, at any rate as

it has hitherto been applied, a plan for disuniting the parts of a

united state. It may possibly be capable of this application;

experience, however, gives no guidance on this point,[33] and loyalty to

the central government is to the working of a Federal system as

necessary as loyalty on the part of individual citizens to their own

separate State. When, therefore, it is suggested that Federalism may

establish a satisfactory relation between England and Ireland, a doubt

naturally suggests itself whether the United Kingdom presents the

conditions necessary for the success of the Federal experiment. Whether

in the case of two countries, of which the one has no desire for State

rights and the other has no desire for union, the bases of a Federal

scheme are not wanting, is an inquiry which deserves consideration.

Politicians, however, may reject references to abstract theory, and the

best way of testing the application of Federalism to the relations

between England and Ireland, is to make clear to ourselves what are the

aims proposed to himself by a genuine Home Ruler, and then trace in

outline the characteristics of Federalism, and consider how the Federal

system would work in reference to the interests of England.

[Sidenote: Aim of Home Rule.]

"My plan of Home Rule for Ireland," writes an eminent Home Ruler, "would

establish between Ireland and the Imperial Parliament the same relations

in principle that exist between a State of the American Union and the

Federal Government, or between any State of the Dominion of Canada and

that Central Canadian Parliament which meets in Ottawa."

This statement exhibits both laxity of language and laxity of thought,

but it gives a definition of the objects proposed to himself by a

genuine Home Ruler which is sufficiently definite, for the ends of my

argument. Home Rule is, for our present purpose, Federalism. We may

therefore, assume that it involves the adoption throughout the present

United Kingdom of a constitution in principle, though not in detail,

like that of the United States. The United Kingdom would, if Mr.

McCarthy's proposals were adopted, be transformed into a confederacy;

the different States, say Great Britain and Ireland, or England,

Scotland, and Ireland, would bear to the whole union the same relation

which Virginia and New York bear to the United States; they would bear

towards each other the same relation which Virginia bears to New York,

or which they both bear towards Massachusetts. Such a constitution has,

it must be at once admitted, no necessary connection with Republicanism.

The King or Queen of England for the time being would occupy the

position of a hereditary president; this arrangement would, as Mr. Butt

seems to have perceived, increase rather than diminish the authority of

the Crown. It must, on the other hand, be noted that Federalism

necessarily involves the formation of a new constitution, not for

Ireland only, but for the whole of the United Kingdom. It is necessary

to insist upon this point. For half the fallacies of the arguments for

Home Rule rest upon the idea that Home Rule is a matter affecting

Ireland alone. 'Irish Federalism,' the title of a pamphlet by Mr. Butt,

is a term involving something like self-contradiction. The misnomer is

curious and full of instruction.

Whoever wishes to understand the relation of Federalism to the English

Constitution and to English interests must give some attention to the

nature of a Federal Union.

[Sidenote: Characteristics of Federalism.]

A Federal constitution must, from its very nature, be marked by the

following characteristics.

It must, at any rate in modern days, be a written constitution, for its

very foundation is the "Federal pact" or contract; the constitution must

define with more or less precision the respective powers of the central

government, and of the State governments of the central legislature and

of the local legislatures; it must provide some means (e.g., reference

to a popular vote) for bringing into play that ultimate sovereign power

which is able to modify or reform the constitution itself; it must

provide some arbiter, be it Council, Court, or Crown, with authority to

decide whether the Federal pact has been observed; it must institute

some means by which the principles of the constitution may be upheld,

and the decrees of the arbiter or Court be enforced against the

resistance (if need be) of one or more of the separate States. These are

not the accidents but the essential features of any Federal

constitution; and are found under the constitution of the Canadian

Dominion and of the Swiss Confederacy, no less than under the

constitution of the United States. They all depend on the simple, but

often neglected fact, that a Federal constitution implies an elaborate

distribution and definition of political powers; that it is from its

very nature a compromise between the claims of rival authorities, the

Confederacy and the States, and that behind all the mechanism and

artifices of the constitution there lies, however artfully concealed,

some sovereign power which must have the means both to support the

principles of the constitution and, when occasion requires, to modify

its terms. Hence almost of necessity flow some further results. Under a

federation the law of the land must be divided into constitutional laws

(or, in other words, articles of the constitution), which can be

changed, if at all, only with special difficulty, say by an appeal to

the popular vote or by a constituent assembly, and ordinary laws which

may be changed by the central Congress or by the separate assemblies of

the States. The powers both of the central Parliament and of the local

parliaments, depending as they do upon the constitutional compact, must

be limited. Neither the National Assembly of Switzerland nor the

Congress of the United States have anything like the sovereign power of

the British Parliament: the same thing is obviously true of the Cantonal

or State Assemblies. Such are, under one form or another, the essential

characteristics of a Federal Government. A confederation of which

England and Ireland formed a part would further of necessity exhibit a

feature not to be found in the United States. The authority of the

Confederacy would in reality mean the power of one State--namely, Great

Britain. No artificial distribution of the whole country into separate

States would get rid of a fact depending upon laws or facts of nature

beyond the reach of constitutional arrangements.

[Sidenote: Advantages of Federalism to England.]

It is now possible to perceive pretty clearly the relation of Federalism

to British or English interests. It would, as compared with the

independence of Ireland, present three advantages. There would not be

the same obvious and patent failure in the efforts of British

statesmanship to unite all the British isles into one country; the

continuity of English history would be to a certain extent preserved;

the break with the past would be lessened. The Federal Union might, in

the eyes of foreign powers, be simply the United Kingdom under another

form. The loss, again, to England in material resources would be

somewhat less than that involved in separation. Ireland might possibly

continue to contribute her share to the Federal Exchequer, though a

critic who reflects upon the expectations expressed by Home Rulers of

benefit to Ireland from the expenditure of Irish taxes on Irish objects,

will wonder how, unless the taxation of a poverty-stricken country is to

be greatly increased, the Irish people could support the expense both of

the central and of the local governments. American experience hardly

justifies the notion that Federalism is an economical form of

Government. It would, and this is no small advantage, make it possible

to guarantee, at any-rate in appearance, that the executive and

legislative authority of the Irish Government should be exercised with

due regard to justice. The Federal compact might, and probably would,

contain articles which forbade any State Government or legislature to

suspend the Habeas Corpus Act, to bestow political privileges upon any

church, to pass laws which infringe the obligation of contracts, to

deprive any man of his property without due compensation. The Ten

Commandments, in short, and the obvious applications thereof, might be

embodied in the fundamental law of the land. Federalism would at lowest

preserve a formal respect for justice, and if the system worked

efficiently, would protect individuals and minorities from gross

oppression at the hands of the Irish State Government.

These are the benefits of Home Rule to Great Britain. Let us now examine

what are the evils to Great Britain of the proposed constitutional

revolution. For whoever either will meditate for a short time on the

nature of Federalism, or will examine the mode in which the constitution

of the United States--the most successful federation which the world has

seen--actually works, will soon perceive that what is miscalled "Irish

Federalism" is in reality "British Federalism," and amounts, as I am

forced to reiterate again and again, to a proposal for changing the

whole constitution of the United Kingdom It is, in fact, the most

"revolutionary" proposal, if the word "revolutionary" be used in its

strict sense, which has ever been submitted to an English Parliament,

the abolition of the House of Lords, the disestablishment of the

Church, the abolition of the monarchy, might leave the English

constitution far less essentially changed than would the adoption of

Federalism even in that apparently moderate form in which it was

presented by Mr. Butt to the consideration of the English public.

[Sidenote: Disadvantages of Federalism to England.]

The definite disadvantages to England of the proposed revolution may be

summed up under three heads:--First, the sovereignty of the Imperial

Parliament would be destroyed and all English constitutional

arrangements would be dislocated; secondly, the power of Great Britain

would be diminished; thirdly, the chance of further disagreement with

Ireland would certainly not be diminished, and would probably be

increased.

_First._--Under all the formality, the antiquarianism, the shams of the

British constitution, there lies latent an element of power which has

been the true source of its life and growth. This secret source of

strength is the absolute omnipotence,[34] the sovereignty, of

Parliament. As to the mode in which King, Lords, and Commons were to

divide the sovereign power between themselves there have been at

different times disputes leading to civil war; but that Parliament--that

is, the Crown, the Peers, and the Commons acting together--is absolutely

supreme, has never been doubted. Here constitutional theory and

constitutional practice are for once at one. Hence, it has been well

said by the acutest of foreign critics that the merit of the English

constitution is that it is no constitution at all. The distinction

between fundamental articles of the constitution and laws, between

statutes which can only be touched (if at all) by a constituent

assembly, and statutes which can be repealed by an ordinary

Parliament--the whole apparatus, in short, of artificial

constitutionalism--is utterly unknown to Englishmen. Thus freedom has in

England been found compatible at crises of danger with an energy of

action generally supposed to be peculiar to despotism. The source of

strength is, in fact, in each case the same. The sovereignty of

Parliament is like the sovereignty of the Czar. It is like all

sovereignty at bottom, nothing else but unlimited power; and, unlike

some other forms of sovereignty, can be at once put in force by the

ordinary means of law. This is the one great advantage of our

constitution over that of the United States. In America, every ordinary

authority throughout the Union is hampered by constitutional

restrictions; legislation must be slow, because the change of any

constitutional rule is impeded by endless difficulties. The vigour which

is wanting to Congress, is indeed to a certain extent to be found in the

extensive executive power left in the hands of the President; but it

takes little acuteness to perceive that in point of pliability, power of

development, freedom of action, English constitutionalism far excels

the Federalism of the United States. Nor is it less obvious that the

very qualities in which the English constitution excels that of the

United States are essential to the maintenance by England of the British

Empire. Home Rulers, whether they know it or not, touch the mainspring

of the British constitution. For from the moment that Great Britain

becomes part of a federation, the omnipotence of Parliament is gone. The

Federal Congress might be called by the name of the Imperial Parliament.

It might possibly be made up of the same elements, be elected by the

same electors, and even in the main consist of the very same persons as

the existing Parliament of the United Kingdom; but its nature would be

changed, and its power would be limited on all sides. It might deal with

Imperial expenditure, with foreign affairs, with peace and war, with

other matters placed within its competence; on every other point the

British Congress would, like the American Congress, be powerless. Nor

would all the powers taken from the Congress be necessarily given to the

local assemblies. Every analogy points the other way. If the example of

the United States is to be followed, articles of the constitution would

limit the power both of the Imperial Congress and of the local

representative assemblies. This limitation of authority could not be

measured by what appears on the face of the constitution. Some council,

tribunal, or other arbiter--let us, for the sake of simplicity, call it

the Federal Court--would have authority to determine whether a law was

or was not constitutional, or, in other words, whether it was or was

not a law. Let no one fancy that the restraint placed on the power of

ordinary legislation by the authority of a Federal Court; which alone

can interpret the constitution, is a mere form which has no practical

effect. The history of the United States is on this point decisive. De

Tocqueville, Story, and Kent are far safer and better instructed guides

than authors who "cannot conceive how any conflict of authority could

arise which could not be easily settled by argument, by conference, by

gradual experience;" and who seem to hold that to deny the existence of

a difficulty is the same thing as providing for its removal The

following are a few of the instances in which the American judiciary

have in fact determined the limits which bound the powers, either of

Congress or of the State legislatures. The judiciary have ruled that a

State is liable to be sued in the Federal Courts; that Congress has

authority to incorporate a bank; that a tax imposed by Congress was an

indirect tax, and therefore valid; that the control of the militia

really and truly belongs to Congress, and not, as in effect contended by

Connecticut and Massachusetts, to the governors of the separate States.

The Federal judiciary have determined the limits to their own

jurisdiction and to that of the State Courts. The judiciary have

pronounced one law after another invalid, as contrary to some article of

the constitution--e.g., either by being tainted with the vice of _ex

post facto_ legislation, or by impairing the obligation of contracts.

These are a few samples of the mode in which a Federal Court limits all

legislative authority. If any one wishes to see the extent to which the

power of such a Court has gone in fact, he should study the decisions on

the Legal Tender Act, which all but overset or nullified the financial

legislation of Congress during the War of Secession. If he wishes to see

the effect of applying the constitution of the United States, or

anything like that constitution, to Great Britain and Ireland, he should

consider what is implied in the undoubted fact that the Land Act of 1870

and the Land Act of 1881 would, whether passed by the central or by any

local legislature under such a constitution, be at once treated as void,

as impairing the obligation of contracts. If I am told that we might

adopt Federalism without adopting the details of the American

constitution, my reply is, not only that the remark comes awkwardly from

innovators who wish to place Ireland in the position of Massachusetts,

but that the very gist of my argument is that the existence of some

arbiter (whether it be named Crown, Council, or Court), who may decide

whether the constitution has or has not been violated, is of the essence

of Federalism, while the existence of such an arbiter absolutely

destroys the sovereignty of Parliament. Nor do the inferences to be

drawn from the action of the Federal Court, and a study of the American

constitution as it actually exists, end here. In the decisions of the

Court we may trace the rise of question after question--that is, of

conflict after conflict--as to the respective rights of the Federation

and the individual States. From the history and from the immobility of

the constitution, we may perceive the extent to which the existence of a

Federal pact checks change, or, in other words, reform. Every

institution which can lay claim to be based upon an organic law acquires

a sort of sacredness. Under a system of Federalism, the Crown, the House

of Peers, the Imperial Parliament itself, when transformed into a

Federal Assembly, would be almost beyond the reach of change, reform, or

abolition. Nor is it the Legislature of Great Britain alone which would

suffer a fundamental change. The relations between the Executive and the

country would undergo immense modification. The authority of the Crown

might be enhanced by the establishment of a Federal Union. The King

would become, in a very special sense, the representative of national or

Imperial unity, and the weakening of Parliament might lead to the

strengthening of the monarch. However this might be, it has, it is

submitted, been now shown that Federalism would dislocate every English

constitutional arrangement.

_Secondly._--The changes necessitated by Federalism would all tend to

weaken the power of Great Britain. That this is so has been already to a

great degree established, in considering the mode in which Federalism

destroys the sovereignty of Parliament. But a system of Federalism would

assuredly weaken the Government quite as much as the Legislature. The

Executive, as the organ of the Federal Union, would be hampered by new

conditions utterly unknown to an English Ministry. The language of

Federalists exhibits a curious and ominous silence or ambiguity as to

the disposal of the armed forces. Is the army to be a British army, with

authority at the will of the Federal Government to enter every part of

the new Union, or is Ireland to have an independent force of her own?

This, again--and every specific criticism is open to the same

retort--may be called a detail, but it is a detail which touches the

root of the whole matter. If the Federal, that is in effect the English,

Government is to retain the same control over the whole army as at

present--if Ireland is not to have a local force under the control of

local authorities--then the language as to Irish independence used by

Irish Nationalists is singularly misleading. If, on the other hand,

order is to be maintained, or not maintained, by a native army under the

guidance of Irish commanders, then it passes the wit of man to see by

what means the rights of the central government are to be enforced in

any case of disagreement between the Imperial and the Irish Parliament.

With the memory of the Irish volunteers before his mind, an historian,

such, for example, as Mr. McCarthy, will hardly assert that the

difficulty raised is one of which he cannot conceive the existence. For

my part, I heartily join in the admiration he, no doubt, feels for the

patriots of 1782, but no man in his senses will maintain that the moral

of that year is that a local Irish army can, under no circumstances,

prove an embarrassment to the central Government. The general tone,

even more than the precise language of Irish Federalists, all but

forbids the supposition that they are prepared to secure the supremacy

of the Federal Government by giving it the sole control of the only

armed force which is to exist in any part of the Union. They probably

hope that some sort of compromise may be found with regard to a matter

in which, as theory and experience alike prove, compromise is all but

impossible. Under certain circumstances, and in certain cases, and

subject to certain conditions, the use of the armed force throughout

Great Britain and Ireland is, we may suppose, to be left in the hands of

the Federal Executive; under other circumstances, and under other

conditions, the local forces are probably to be controlled by the local

or State Government. Whether such an arrangement would continue in

working order for a year, is more than doubtful. Assume, however, that

somehow it could be got to work, the fact still remains that a scheme,

intended to secure local liberty, would certainly ensure Imperial

weakness. The need, moreover, for bestowing some element of strength on

a Federal Executive as a counterpoise to its many elements of weakness

leads almost of necessity to a result which has scarcely received due

notice. The executive authority must be placed beyond the control of a

representative assembly. Neither in the United States, nor in

Switzerland, nor in the German Empire, can the Federal administration be

displaced by the vote of an assembly. Federalism is in effect

incompatible with Parliamentary government as practised in England. The

Canadian Ministry, it may be urged, can be changed at the will of the

Dominion Parliament, and the common Ministry of Austria-Hungary is

responsible to the Delegations. This is true; but these exceptions are

precisely of the class which prove the rule which they are cited to

invalidate. The Cabinet system of the Dominion is a defect in the

Canadian Constitution, and could not work were not Canada, by its

position as a dependency, under the guidance of a power beyond the reach

of the Dominion Parliament. What may be the real responsibility to the

Delegations of the common ministry of Austria-Hungary, admits of a good

deal of doubt. No one, who will not be deceived by words, believes the

responsibility to be at all like the liability of Mr. Gladstone or Lord

Salisbury to be dismissed from office by a vote of the House of Commons.

The Emperor-King is, as regards the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, the

permanent and unchangeable head of the State. Turn the United Kingdom

into a Federal State, and Parliamentary Government, as Englishmen now

know it, is at an end. This may or may not be an evil, but it is a

revolution which ought to give pause to innovators who deem it a

slighter danger to innovate on the Act of Union than to remodel the

procedure of the House of Commons.

The central Government would again, merely from that division of powers

which is of the essence of Federalism, be as feeble against foreign

aggression as against local resistance. Home Rule, it is constantly

said, has at least this advantage, as compared with Irish independence,

that it prevents any alliance between Ireland and a foreign enemy. This

gain might turn out rather nominal than real. Neither the United States

nor France could, of course, send an Embassy to any State comprised

within the British Union; but, if war impended, they might and would

attempt to gain the favour of the Irish Ministry, or the Irish party who

controlled the Irish Parliament, or exercised the authority of the local

Government of Ireland. Suppose that when war was about to be proclaimed

between the British Federation and France, the Irish Parliament objected

to hostilities with the French Republic. Can it be denied that the local

Parliament and the local executive could, by protests, by action, or

even by inaction, give aid or comfort to the foreign enemy? The local

legislature would, in the supposed case, be aided by a minority of the

central Parliament or Congress. Obstruction would go hand in hand with

sedition. Loyalty to the Union was strong throughout the Northern States

during the War of Secession; but the tale used certainly to be told that

had Meade been defeated at Gettysburg, the leaders of the New York

democracy would have attempted "to carry the State out of the Union."

Moreover, Great Britain would perhaps find it easier to control the

action of an independent than of a confederated Ireland. Blockades and

embargoes are, as already pointed out, modes of persuasion applicable

to foreigners, but inapplicable to citizens; the Government of the Union

found it harder to check the latent disloyalty of South Carolina than it

would have found it to deal with the open enmity of Canada. This topic

is too odious and too far removed from the realm of practical politics,

to need more than the allusion required for the completeness of my

argument.

Federalism, in short, would mean the weakness of Great Britain, both at

home and abroad. As the head of a Confederacy, England, as the head also

of the British Empire, would meet undiminished responsibilities with

greatly diminished power.

_Thirdly._--Federalism is at least as likely to stereotype and increase

the causes of division between England and Ireland as to remove them.

A Federal Government is, of all constitutions, the most artificial. If

such a government is to be worked with anything like success, there must

exist among the citizens of the confederacy a spirit of genuine loyalty

to the Union. The "Unitarian" feeling of the people must distinctly

predominate over the sentiment in favour of "State rights." To require

this is to require a good deal more than the mere general submission to

the Government which is requisite for the prosperity of every State,

whatever be the nature of its polity. In a Federation every citizen is

influenced by a double allegiance. He owes fealty to the central

Government; he owes fealty also to his Canton or State. National

allegiance and local allegiance divide and perplex the feelings even of

loyal citizens. Unless the national sentiment predominate, the

Federation will go to pieces at any of those crises when the interest or

wishes of any of the States conflict with the interest or wishes of the

Union. So keen an observer and profound a critic as De Tocqueville

believed that both the American and the Swiss Federations would make

shipwreck on this rock. He was mistaken; he did not allow for the rapid

development of national sentiment. But his error was pardonable. The

leaders of the Sonderbund did prefer the interest of Lucerne to the

unity of Switzerland. Lee and Jackson were disloyal to the Union,

because they were loyal to Virginia. Leading officers of the United

States army, soldiers educated at Westpoint, trained the armies of the

Confederates. They were men of unblemished honour; they were, some of

them, not originally zealous in the cause of secession, but they

believed that their duty to their State--to Virginia, to South Carolina,

or to Georgia--was paramount over their duty to the Government at

Washington. If Virginia had stood by the Union, General Lee might, in

all probability, have been the conqueror of the Confederate States, of

which he was the hero. Ireland has had far graver causes for

disaffection towards the English Government than any of the reasons

alleged for the secession of Virginia; but Irish officers and Irish

soldiers have always been perfectly loyal to England. The reason of the

difference is obvious; the officers of the English army have never been

distracted by the difficulties of divided allegiance. Make Ireland one

of the States of a Confederacy, and these difficulties will at once

arise. Irish officers and Irish soldiers, members of the Irish

State--paid by and to a certain extent under the command of the Irish

Government--can hardly be blamed if in times of civil differences,

leading it may be to civil war, they should feel more loyalty to their

State than to the Union. This Union, be it remembered, would in such a

case be nothing but Great Britain under a new and less impressive title.

The existence and nature of the Federal bond is calculated to supply

both the causes and occasions of such differences.

Home Rulers, it is clear, form already most exaggerated hopes of the

benefits to be conferred on Ireland by Home Rule; and, further, in their

own minds (naturally enough) confound Federalism with national

independence.

"Give Ireland," writes Mr. Finch,[35] "the management of her own

affairs, and you will see called into her service the ablest and most

capable of her sons; while, as things now stand, the intellect of

Ireland is shut out from all share in the administration. With careers

at home worthy of the best and ablest of the people, much of the wealth

which is now drained off from Ireland without any return, will be

expended in developing the industrial resources of the country;

industry will revive, and with the revival of industry will come

employment for the people. 'It is the difficulty of living by wages in

Ireland,' says Sir G.C. Lewis, 'which makes every man look to the land

for maintenance.' With employment for the people, half the difficulty of

the land question will be solved. If, then, we wish to promote the moral

and material welfare of the Irish people, let us make them masters of

their own affairs."

"I have indicated what I believe," writes Mr. O'Neill Daunt,[36] "to be

the radical disease of Ireland: the want of a domestic legislature racy

of the soil, and acting in harmony with the national sentiment. God has

created Ireland with the needs of a separate nation, and with the needs

are associated the rights. 'Our patent to be a State, not a shire,' said

Goold in 1799, 'comes direct from Heaven. The Almighty has in majestic

characters signed the great charter of our independence. The great

Creator of the world has given our beloved country the gigantic outlines

of a kingdom.'

"If Ireland had been left the unfettered use of the natural materials of

wealth in her soil and in her people, and of the facilities of internal

and external commerce supplied by her physical configuration and her

geographical position--if her interests were protected by a Parliament

sitting in her capital, securing the expenditure at home of her annual

revenue, both public and private, rendering impossible that destructive

hæmorrhage of her income by which she is impoverished, aiding the

development of her industries, and resisting all aggression on her

commercial and political rights--in a word, if the Irish Constitution

had not been treacherously undermined and overthrown, we should now have

been the best support of the Empire, instead of being its scandal and

its weakness."

Politicians who write thus expect far more from national independence

than nationality itself can give. More than fifty years have elapsed

since Spain expelled the foreign invader; but Spain has not yet

succeeded in expelling ignorance, prejudice, superstition, or

oppression. But whatever be the miracles of nationality, Ireland would

not, under Federalism, be a nation. Rhode Island has all the freedom

demanded for his country by an eminent Home Ruler, whose expressions I

have cited. He surely does not consider the inhabitants of Rhode Island

to be a nation.

Whatever else Home Rule might give to Ireland, one gift it assuredly

would not bring with it. It would not endow the country with wealth. To

Irish enthusiasm and patriotism illusions on this matter are pardonable.

In the English advocate of Home Rule they are unpardonable. Ireland is,

and must, under any form of government conceivable, for a length of time

remain a poor country. Capital knows nothing of patriotism or sentiment.

Commerce has no partiality for the masses. Credit cherishes no trust

towards the people. The one prediction which we may make with confidence

is that a measure of Home Rule would not increase Irish capital, and

would shake Irish credit. The rumour of Home Rule has already, it is

said, disturbed the course of business in Ireland. From the nature of

things, then, the establishment of Federalism would lead to bitter

disappointment. The country would not enjoy the dignity of independence;

it would not enjoy the comfort of wealth. Every Irishman would feel that

he had been cheated of his hopes, and this not because he is an

Irishman, but because he is a man. It is human to expect far more from

even the most beneficial of revolutions than any political change can

bring. The unity of Italy was well worth all the price it cost. The

unity of Germany gave intense gratification to natural feelings of

national pride. Yet there are probably many even in the Italian Kingdom

who sigh for the light taxes of the Bourbon or Papal rule, and Germans

who glory in the greatness of the Empire flee by thousands to the United

States that they may escape the burden of conscription. The

disappointment which naturally attends a great change would in the case

of Ireland be specially bitter. To what cause would the disappointment

be attributed? The answer is easy to find. If taxation increased--as it

probably would; if wealth did not increase--as it certainly would not;

if the sense of semi-independence did not produce the hope, the energy,

the new life, the regeneration which enthusiasts consider to be the

natural result of nationality--if anything, in short, failed to go

according to the hopes of men who had formed hopes which a miracle

itself could hardly satisfy--the blame for the non-fulfilment of

groundless anticipations would rest upon the Confederacy--that is in

other words, upon England. To suppose this, is not to attribute special

unreasonableness to Irishmen. If Italy had been forced to accept,

instead of her longed-for independence, the local self-government which

might be conceded to the State of an Austrian Federation, we may be

quite sure that the Grist Tax, the Sicilian Banditti, the intrigues of

France in Tunis, the perversity of the Pope, the poverty of Italian

workmen, the factiousness of Italian politicians, every evil, in short,

real or imaginary, under which Italy now suffers, or has suffered since

1870--would have been attributed to her connection with a Union presided

over by the Austrian Emperor. National independence, like every other

form of independence, has at least this merit, that it compels men to

take their fate into their own hands, and to feel that they themselves

or the circumstances of the world are the causes of their misfortunes.

Semi-independence makes it easy for men to attribute every mishap to the

absence of absolute freedom.

If the existence of a Federal constitution would of itself supply the

cause for discontent, it is of the very nature of such a constitution to

supply the occasions of dispute. Nothing can prevent the rise of burning

questions about Federal and State rights. Is nullification or secession,

or the refusal to pay Federal taxes a State right? If these questions

arise, by whom are they to be settled? Suppose they are referred to a

Federal Court, say the Privy Council, is it reasonable to fancy that

Irishmen or Englishmen, for that matter, will acquiesce in the decision

of grave political issues (say the right of the Federal Government to

proclaim martial law at Dublin, or the validity of the Land Act) by any

tribunal? For when political issues are referred to the decision of a

Court the difficulty is great of enlisting public opinion in favour of

its decrees. The theory of the constitution and the expectation of the

people is that references to the judges will be events of rare

occurrence, and that the Bench, when it acts at all, will act only as

interpreter of the constitutional pact. Things are certain to turn out

far otherwise. The intervention of the tribunals will in one form or

another be constantly evoked, and will be evoked to determine the most

burning questions of the day. The Constitution of the United States

would be unintelligible without reference to a long line of determined

cases; its principles are to be found quite as much in the decisions of

the Supreme Court as in its Articles. Swiss Constitutionalists have

greatly increased as years have gone on the originally limited powers of

the Federal tribunal. The statesmen who drafted the Act constituting the

Canadian Dominion fancied they could in effect avoid the necessity for

judicial interpretation, but a long series of reports proves the

futility of their expectation. Each day increases the mass, and it must

be added the importance, of the judgments by which the Privy Council

determines questions of constitutional law for the Colonies. Moreover,

even laymen soon perceive that interpretation means legislation. It is

technically correct to say that the Supreme Court of the United States

acts only as interpreter of the Constitution, but we must not be

deceived by fictions. The Supreme Court has legislated as truly, and

perhaps more effectively than Congress. It has achieved, and from the

nature of things was compelled to achieve, a feat forbidden to Congress;

it has added to or enlarged the Articles of the Constitution. The good

fortune of the United States gave to them in Judge Marshall a profound

and statesmanlike lawyer, and the judgments of the great Chief Justice

have built up the existing Constitution. He may be counted, if not among

its founders, at any rate as its main architect. In this instance

judicial authority was combined with political wisdom, and Marshall's

opinion was, it is said, rejected by the Court in but two cases, and had

it in these instances been followed, would have improved the

Constitution. Unfortunately, while one may often secure the fairness one

cannot ensure the wisdom of the Bench. Judges err; a final Court of

Appeal must often give decisions which are or are supposed to be

erroneous, i.e., not a just deduction from the facts and principles

which the Court is called upon to consider. No historian will, it is

likely, now defend the doctrine of the House of Lords about marriage

laid down in _Reg._ v. _Millis_. Competent authorities question some of

the most important ecclesiastical judgments given by the Judicial

Committee of the Privy Council. The decision in the _Dred Scott Case_,

whether right or wrong, did not approve itself to eminent lawyers in the

United States. One of the decisions of the Supreme Court in the _Legal

Tender Cases_ must have been wrong; whether the last was sound is open

to debate. It is when a Court gives what is thought to be an erroneous

decision on matters exciting the feelings of large classes that the

difficulty of obtaining acquiescence in its judgments is palpable. The

judges decided, and it is quite possible decided rightly, that Ship

Money was a legal exaction, and that the Crown's dispensing power was

authorized by law. Popular opinion branded the judges as sycophants and

traitors. Chief Justice Taney and his colleagues decided in effect, and

from a legal point of view may have been right in deciding, that slavery

was recognised by the Constitution of the United States. Their decision

was denounced by the best men in the Union as infamous. The Privy

Council have laid down doctrines on matters of ritual which are held to

be erroneous by a large body of the clergy, and Ritualists have gone to

prison rather than treat the judgment of the Privy Council as of moral

validity. Clergymen are not perhaps the most reasonable of mankind, but

they are not more unreasonable than political enthusiasts. How then is

it possible to expect that a Federal tribunal would command an obedience

not yielded willingly to the laws of the Imperial Parliament?

Englishmen, indeed, might, it is possible, acquiesce in the ruling of

Federal judges, and this for two reasons: they are a legally-minded

nation; and (what is of far more consequence) a Federal Court must

represent in the main the opinions of the Federal Government--that is,

of Great Britain. But it is idle to suppose that Mr. Parnell and Mr.

Parnell's followers would find it easier to respect an Imperial or

Federal tribunal than to bow to the will of the Imperial Parliament.

Home Rulers would, moreover, soon discover a reason for resistance to

the Federal Court or the Federal Government, which from their point of

view would be a perfectly valid reason. The Federal Government would, in

effect, be the Government of England; the Federal Court would in effect

be a Court appointed by the English Government. In a Confederacy where

there are many States, the Government of the Federation cannot be

identified with even the most powerful of the States; it were ridiculous

to assert that the Government at Washington is only the Government of

New York under another name. Where a Confederacy consists in reality, if

not in name, of two States only, of which the one has at least four or

five times the power of the other, the authority of the Confederacy

means the authority of the powerful State. "Irish Federalism," if in

reality established, would soon generate a demand from Ireland, not

unreasonable in itself, under the circumstances of the case, that the

whole British Empire should be turned into a Confederacy, under the

guidance of a general Congress. Thus alone could Ireland become a real

State, the member of a genuine Confederation. Hence arises a new danger.

Apply Federalism to Ireland and you immediately provoke demands for

autonomy in other parts of the United Kingdom, and for constitutional

changes in other parts of the British Empire. Federalism, which in other

lands has been a step towards Union, would, it is likely enough, be in

our case the first stage towards a dissolution of the United Kingdom

into separate States, and hence towards the breaking-up of the British

Empire. This is no future or imaginary peril; the mere proposal of Home

Rule, under something like a Federal form, has already made it an

immediate and pressing danger. Sir Gavan Duffy, by far the ablest among

the Irish advocates of Home Rule, predicts that before ten years have

elapsed there will be a Federation of the Empire.[37] A majority of

Scotch electors support the policy of Mr. Gladstone, and forthwith a

most respectable Scotch periodical puts forward a plan of Home Rule for

Scotland. Canon MacColl already suggests that we should make tentatively

an experiment capable of development into a permanent system on the

lines of the American Constitution, and make it not only in Ireland, but

also perhaps gradually in Scotland, and even in Wales.[38] It is

unnecessary to discuss Canon MacColl's argument at length. When he

tells his readers that "the Constitution which Mr. Gladstone desires to

create in Ireland is modelled on the system existing in the great

colonies of the Empire; there are certain variations and some novelties

in the Irish scheme, but these are the lines on which it is drawn;" he

ventures a statement on which, as a lawyer, I need make but one comment.

It is a statement as erroneous and misleading as can be any assertion

made in good faith by a writer who must be presumed to have studied the

measure of which he is speaking. When the same authority asks why should

a system which imparts strength to America, to Austria, and to Germany,

disintegrate and ruin the British Empire, he raises an inquiry which

does not admit of an answer, since it assumes the identity of things

which are radically different. The system which may or may not impart

strength to Austria is no more the system which imparts strength to

America, than the system which imparts strength to England is the same

as the system which does or does not impart strength to Russia. To lump

under one head every policy which can by any straining of the terms be

brought under the heads of "Federalism" or "Home Rule," is neither more

nor less absurd than to classify together every Constitution which can

be called a monarchy.

But while I write these pages a more significant indication of this

danger has appeared. Mr. Gladstone's own method of interpreting his own

past utterances makes it the duty of his critics to weigh well not only

his direct statements, but his suggestions; and there is, I think, no

possible unfairness in construing the language of his pamphlet on the

Irish Question as an intimation that he already entertains, if he does

not favour, the idea of applying the Federal principle to Scotland and

to Wales.[39] Federalism is the solvent which, if applied to one part of

the United Kingdom, will undo the work not only of Pitt, but of Somers,

of Henry VIII., and of Edward I. Meanwhile, the one prediction which may

be made with absolute confidence is that Federalism would not generate

that goodwill between England and Ireland which, could it be produced,

would, in my judgment at least, be an adequate compensation even for the

evils and the inconveniences of the Federal system.

To the view of Federalism here maintained there exist one or two

objections, so obvious that without some reference to them my argument

would lack completeness.

Federalism, it is urged, has succeeded in Switzerland and in America; it

may, therefore, succeed in the United Kingdom.

If the general drift of my argument does not sufficiently answer this

objection, two special replies lie near at hand. In the case both of

Switzerland and of America, a Federal Constitution supplied the means by

which States, conscious of a common national feeling, have approached to

political unity. It were a rash inference from this fact, that when two

parts of one nation are found (as must be asserted by any Home Ruler)

not to be animated by a common feeling of nationality, a Federal

Constitution is the proper means by which to keep them in union. The

more natural deduction from the general history of Federalism is, that a

confederation is an imperfect political union, transitory in its nature,

and tending either to pass into one really united State, or to break up

into the different States which compose the Federation.

If, again, the example either of America or of Switzerland is to teach

us anything worth knowing, the history of those countries must be read

as a whole. It will then be seen that the two most successful

confederacies in the world have been kept together only by the decisive

triumph through force of arms of the central power over real or alleged

State rights. General Dufour in Switzerland, General Grant and General

Sherman in America, were the true interpreters and preservers of the

constitutional pact. This undoubted fact hardly suits the theories of

Irish Federalists.

Nor ought we to stop at this point. Citizens of the Union filled with

justifiable pride at the success of the American Constitution assume

that a Federal Government is in itself absolutely the best form of

government, that in any country where it can be adopted it must be an

improvement on the existing institutions of the land, and that as

compared with the constitutional monarchy of England federalism

exhibits no special faults from which English constitutionalism is free.

This assumption is perfectly natural; it resembles that absolute faith

in the virtues of the British Constitution which reached its culminating

point when Burke's intimate friend and pupil, Gilbert Elliott, himself

no mean statesman, went to Corsica to establish a miniature copy of

English Parliamentary institutions. But in each case a faith which is

natural will also be pronounced by any candid judge to be unfounded.

Federalism has in its very essence, and even as it exists in America, at

least two special faults. It distracts the allegiance of citizens, and

what is even more to the present point, it does not provide sufficient

protection for the legal rights of unpopular minorities. There is not,

and never was, a word in the Articles of the Constitution forbidding

American citizens to criticise the institutions of the State. An

American Abolitionist had as much right to denounce slavery at Boston,

or for that matter at Charlestown, as an English Abolitionist had to

denounce slavery in London or Liverpool. It were ridiculous to maintain

that the right was one which either Lloyd Garrison or his disciples were

able to exercise. Mr. Godkin[40] has repeated with perfect fairness the

tale of the persecutions suffered by Prudence Crandall in Connecticut

because she chose in exercise of her legal and moral rights to educate

young women of colour. Mr. Godkin apparently draws, as I have already

pointed out, from the fact an inference--which I confess myself not well

able to follow--against all attempts to enforce an unpopular law. The

more natural conclusion is that the Federal Government was not able to

protect the rights of individuals against strong local sentiment. This

moral at any rate has an obvious application to any scheme of Federalism

for Ireland.

The experience of Canada, again, is adduced to prove that a Federal

constitution is compatible with loyalty to the British Crown. Why should

an arrangement which produces peace, prosperity, and loyalty across the

Atlantic not be applied to Ireland?

The answer is, that the case of Canada is as regards Federalism

irrelevant. Canada is not part of a British Federation. The Dominion as

a whole is simply a colony, standing essentially in the same relation to

England as Victoria or New South Wales. The laws of the Parliament that

meets at Ottawa need the Royal sanction, or, in other words, may be

vetoed, or rather not approved, by the English Ministry of the day. The

Act itself on which the existence of the Canadian constitution depends

is an Act of the British Parliament, and cannot be modified by any other

authority. The British Parliament is supreme in Canada as throughout the

British dominions; and Canada sends no representatives to the British

Parliament. The provinces, no doubt, which compose the Dominion are

under an Act of Parliament a Federation; but the dangers and

difficulties of Federalism are to a great extent avoided by the

supremacy of the British Crown. These difficulties, however, do arise.

If any one will study the "Letellier case," he will soon perceive that

Canada has exhibited the germ of the conflict between the central

authority of the Dominion and the "State right" of the provinces; he

will also perceive that the conflict was determined by a reference to

the English Ministry, who in effect gave judgment in favour of the

Dominion. The example of Canada suggests, if anything, that Irish

difficulties might be solved by turning Ireland into a colony without

representatives in the Imperial Parliament.

We have now the materials for comparing, as regards the interests of

England, the effects of Irish independence with the effects of Home Rule

as Federalism. The case as between the two stands thus:--

The national independence of Ireland entails on England three great

evils--the deliberate surrender of the main object at which English

statesmanship has aimed for centuries, together with all the moral loss

and disgrace which such surrender entails; the loss of considerable

material resources in money, and still more in men; the incalculable

evil of the existence in the neighbourhood of Great Britain of a new, a

foreign, and, possibly, a hostile State. For these evils there are,

indeed, to be found two real though inadequate compensations--namely,

the probability that loss of territory might restore to England a unity

and consistency of action equivalent to an increase of strength, and the

possibility that separation might be the first step towards gaining the

goodwill, and ultimately the alliance of Ireland. It is, however, hardly

worth while to calculate what might be the extent of the possible

deductions from evils which no English statesman would knowingly bring

on Great Britain. By men of all parties and of all views it is

practically conceded that England neither will nor can, except under

compulsion, assent to Irish independence.

Federalism, on the other hand, has the appearance of a compromise. It

does not avowedly break up the unity of Great Britain and Ireland; it

does not wholly deprive England of Irish resources; it does not,

directly at least, lay Great Britain open to foreign attack. Federalism

has, however, special evils of its own. It revolutionizes the whole

Constitution of the United Kingdom; by undermining the sovereignty of

Parliament, it deprives English institutions of their elasticity, their

strength, and their life; it weakens the Executive at home, and lessens

the power of the country to resist foreign attack. The revolution which

works these changes holds out no hope of reconciliation with Ireland. An

attempt, in short, to impose on England and Scotland a constitution

which they do not want, and which is quite unsuited to the historical

traditions and to the genius of Great Britain, offers to Ireland a

constitution which Ireland is certain to dislike, which has none of the

real or imaginary charms of independence, and ensures none of the solid

benefits to be hoped for from a genuine union with England.

If this be the true state of the case, thus much at least is

argumentatively made out: Federalism offers to England not a

constitutional compromise, but a fundamental revolution, and this

revolution, however moderate in its form or in the intention of its

advocates, does not offer that reasonable chance of reconciliation with

the mass of the Irish people which might be a compensation for a repeal

of the Union, and is as much opposed to the interests of Great Britain

as would be the national independence of Ireland. This conclusion is a

purely negative one, but it is, as far as English statesmen are

concerned, the _reductio ad impossibile_ of the case in favour of Home

Rule in so far as Home Rule takes the form of Federalism.

* * * * *

II. _Home Rule as Colonial Independence._--The modern Colonial policy of

England has, or is thought to have, achieved two results which impress

popular imagination:--it has relieved English statesmanship from an

unbearable burden of worry and anxiety; it has (as most people believe)

changed Colonial unfriendliness or discontent into enthusiastic or

ostentatious loyalty. Some politicians, therefore, who are anxious to

terminate the secular feud between England and Ireland, and to free

Parliament from the presence, and therefore from the obstructiveness, of

the Home Rulers, readily assume that the formula of "Colonial

independence" contains the solution of the problem how to satisfy at

once the demand of Ireland for independence and the resolution of Great

Britain to maintain the integrity of the Empire. This assumption rests

on no sure foundation, but derives such plausibility as it possesses

from the gross ignorance of the public as to the principles and habits

which govern the English State system. A mere account of the

constitutional relations existing between England and a self-governed

colony is almost equivalent to a suggestion of the reasons which forbid

the hope that the true answer to the agitation for Home Rule is to be

found in conceding to Ireland institutions like those which satisfy the

inhabitants of New South Wales or Victoria. To render such a statement

at once brief and intelligible is no easy matter, for, among all the

political arrangements devised by the ingenuity of statesmen, none can

be found more singular, more complicated, or more anomalous than the

position of combined independence and subordination occupied by the

large number of self-governing colonies which are scattered throughout

the British Empire. Victoria, which may be taken as a type of the whole

class, is, for most purposes of local and internal administration, and

for some purposes which go beyond the sphere usually assigned to local

government, an independent, self-governing community. Victoria is at the

same time, for all purposes in theory and for many purposes in fact, a

merely subordinate portion of the British Empire, and as truly subject

to the British Parliament as is Middlesex or the Isle of Wight.

Let us try in the first place to realize--for this is the essential

matter as regards my present argument--the full extent of Victorian

independence.

Victoria enjoys a Constitution after the British model. The Governor,

the two Houses, the Ministry, reproduce the well-known features of our

limited monarchy. The Victorian Parliament further possesses in Victoria

that character of sovereignty which the British Parliament possesses

throughout the dominions of the Crown, and is (subject, of course, to

the authority of the British Parliament itself) as supreme at Melbourne

as are Queen, Lords, and Commons at Westminster. It makes and unmakes

Cabinets; it controls the executive action of the Ministry; who, in

their turn, are the authorized advisers of that sham constitutional

monarch, the Colonial Governor. The Parliament, moreover, recognizes no

restrictions on its legislative powers; it is not, as is the Congress of

the United States, restrained within a very limited sphere of action; it

is not, as are both the Congress and the State Legislatures of the

Union, bound hand and foot by the articles of a rigid Constitution; it

is not compelled to respect any immutable maxims of legislation. Hence

the Victorian Parliament--in this resembling its creator, the British

Parliament--exercises an amount of legislative freedom unknown to most

foreign representative assemblies. It can, and does, legislate on

education, on ecclesiastical topics, on the tenure of land, on finance,

on every subject, in short, which can interest the Colony. It provides

for the raising of Colonial forces; it may levy taxes or impose duties

for the support of the Victorian administration, or for the protection

of Colonial manufactures. It is not forbidden to tax goods imported from

other parts of the Empire; it is not bound to abstain from passing _ex

post facto_ laws, to respect the sanctity of contracts, or to pay any

regard to the commercial interests of the United Kingdom. It may alter

the Constitution on which its own powers depend, and, for example,

extend the franchise or remodel the Upper House. To understand the full

extent of the authority possessed by the Victorian Parliament and the

Victorian Ministry--which is, in fact, appointed by the Parliament--it

should be noted that, while every branch of the administration (the

courts, the police, and the Colonial forces) is, as in England, more or

less directly under the influence or the control of the Cabinet, the

Colonies have, since 1862, provided for their own defence, and, except

in time of war, or peril of war, are not garrisoned by British

troops.[41] It is, therefore, no practical exaggeration to assert that

Victoria is governed by its own Executive, which is appointed by its own

Parliament, and which maintains order by means of the Victorian police,

supported, in case of need, by Victorian soldiers. An intelligent

foreigner, therefore, might reside for years in Melbourne, and conceive

that the supremacy of the British Government was little more than

nominal. In this he would be mistaken. But should he assert that, as to

all merely Colonial matters, Victoria was in practice a self-governed

and independent country, his language would not be accurate, yet his

assertion would not go very wide of the truth.

The local independence, however, of an English colony is hardly more

noteworthy than are the devices by which a colony is retained in its

place as a subordinate portion of the British Empire, and anyone who

would understand the English Colonial system must pay hardly less

attention to the subordination than to the independence of a country

like Victoria.

The foundation of the whole scheme is the admission of the complete and

unquestioned supremacy of the British Parliament throughout every

portion of the royal dominions. No Colonial statesman, judge, or lawyer

ever dreams of denying that Crown, Lords, and Commons can legislate for

Victoria, and that a statute of the Imperial Parliament overrides every

law or custom repugnant thereto, by whomsoever enacted, in every part of

the Crown dominions. The right, moreover, of Imperial legislation has

not fallen into disuse. Mr. Tarring[42] enumerates from sixty to seventy

Imperial statutes, extending from 7 Geo. III. c. 50 to 44 & 45 Vict. c.

69, which apply to the Colonies generally, and to this list, which might

now be lengthened, must be added a large number of statutes applying to

particular colonies. The sovereignty of Parliament, moreover, is

formally recorded in the Colonial Laws Act, 1865 (28 & 29 Vict. cap.

63), which itself may well be termed the charter of Colonial legislative

authority. This essential dogma of parliamentary sovereignty, moreover,

is not proclaimed as a merely abstract principle--it is enforced by two

different methods. Every court, in the first place, as well in Victoria

as elsewhere throughout the British dominions, is bound to hold void,

and in fact does hold void, enactments which contravene an Imperial

statute, and from Colonial courts there is an appeal to the Privy

Council. The Colonial Governor, in the second place, though from one

point of view he is a constitutional monarch acting under the advice

given him by his Ministers, bears also another and a different

character. He is an Imperial official appointed by the Crown--that is,

by the English Cabinet, which represents the wishes of the Imperial

Parliament--and he is, as such representative of the Imperial power,

bound if possible to avert the passing of any Bill, and when he cannot

avert the passing, then to veto any Act of the Colonial Legislature,

which is disapproved of by the Home Government as opposed either to

Imperial law or to Imperial policy. Thus, a Victorian Act, even when

sanctioned by the Governor, must pass through another stage before it

finally becomes law. It must receive the assent of the Crown, or, in

other words, the assent of the English Secretary of State for the

Colonies, and unless this assent be either actually or constructively

given it does not come into force.[43] The matter to be carefully noted

is that the Crown, or in other words the English Ministry, which

represents the House of Commons, has, as far as law goes, complete

power of controlling the legislation even of colonies like Victoria.

This power is both positive and negative. If the Victorian Parliament

fails to pass some enactment necessary in the opinion of the British

Parliament for the safety of the Empire, then the Parliament at

Westminster can pass an Act for Victoria supplying the needful

provisions. If on the other hand the Victorian Legislature passes a

bill, (e.g. expelling Chinese from the Colony,) which the Home

Government representing the British Parliament deems opposed to Imperial

interests, then the Government can either direct the Governor to refuse

his assent to the law, or cause the Crown to disallow it, and thus in

any case make it void. When we add to all this that there are many

occasions, which we can here only allude to, on which a Colonial

Governor can, and does, act so as to hinder courses of action which

conflict with English interests or policy, it becomes clear enough that,

as far as constitutional arrangements can secure the reality of

sovereignty, the Imperial Parliament maintains its supremacy throughout

the length and breadth of the British Empire. It is of course perfectly

true that Parliament having once given representative institutions to a

colony, does not dream of habitually overriding or thwarting Colonial

legislation. But it were a gross error to suppose that Colonial

recognition of British sovereignty is a mere form. It is in the main

cheerfully acquiesced in by the people of Victoria, because they gain

considerable prestige and no small material advantage from forming part

of the Empire. They have no traditional hostility with the mother

country; they have every reason to deprecate separation, and--a matter

of equal consequence--they believe that if they wished for independence

it would not be refused them. England stands, in short, as regards

Victoria, in a position of singular advantage. She could suppress local

riot, or cause it to be suppressed, and she would not try to oppose a

national demand for separation. Hence a complicated political

arrangement is kept in tolerable working order by a series of

understandings and of mutual concessions. If either England or Victoria

were not willing to give and take, the connection between England and

the Colony could not last a month. The policy, in short, of Colonial

independence is, like most of our constitutional arrangements, based on

the assumption that the parties to it are willing to act towards one

another in a spirit of compromise and good-will, and though at the

present moment the pride of England in her Colonial empire, and the

appreciation on the part of our colonies of the benefits, moral and

material, of the supremacy of Great Britain, keep our scheme of Colonial

government in working order, it is well to realize that this system is

not so invariably successful as might be inferred from the optimism

which naturally colours official utterances. The names of Sir Charles

Darling and Sir George Bowen recall transactions which show that a

community as loyal as Victoria may adopt a course of policy which meets

with the disapproval of English statesmen. The recent and deliberate

refusal of the citizens of Melbourne to endure the landing on their

shores of informers whose evidence had procured the punishment of an

outrageous crime, combined with the fact that the populace of Melbourne

were abetted in a gross, indubitable, patent breach of law by Colonial

Ministers who were after all, technically speaking, servants of the

Crown, gives rise to serious reflection, and suggests that, even under

favourable circumstances, Colonial independence is hardly consistent

with that enforcement throughout the Crown's dominions of due respect

for law which is the main justification for the existence of the British

Empire.[44] A student, moreover, who turns his eyes towards dependencies

less favourably situated than Victoria soon perceives how great may at

any moment become the difficulty of working an artificial and

complicated system of double sovereignty. In Jamaica the hostility of

the whites and blacks led to riot on the part of the blacks, followed by

lawless suppression of riot on the part of the Governor, who represented

the feelings of the whites, and the restoration of peace and order

ultimately entailed the abolition of representative government. At the

Cape the pressure of war at once exposed the weak part of the

constitutional machine. The pretensions of the Cape Ministry to snatch

from the hands of the Governor the control of the armed forces met with

successful resistance; but the question then raised as to the proper

relation between the Colonial Ministry and the army, though for a time

evaded, is certain sooner or later to re-appear, and will not always

admit of an easy or peaceable answer.[45]

Any reader interested in my argument should supplement this brief

statement of the relation actually existing between England and her

self-governing colonies by a perusal of Mr. Todd's most instructive

'Parliamentary Government in the British Colonies.' But the statement,

brief and colourless though it be, is sufficient for its purpose; it

shows that the proposal to give to Ireland the institutions of a colony

is open to two fatal objections.

1st.--The concession to Ireland of Colonial independence would entail

upon England probable peril and certain disgrace.

The peril is obvious. An Irish Cabinet armed with the authority

possessed by a Victorian Ministry would at once provide for the

self-defence of Ireland, and an Irish army, obeying an Irish Executive

and commanded by Irish officers, would be none the less formidable

because it might in name be identified with an armed police, or, like

the troops raised at the Cape or in Victoria, enjoy the ominous title of

Volunteers. If the Colonial precedent were strictly carried out, British

troops ought, from the time Ireland obtained an independent Parliament,

to be withdrawn from the country. The acknowledged danger of foreign

invasion, and the unavowed probability of Irish insurrection, would make

the retirement of the English army impossible. But the presence of

British forces--and forces, be it remarked, intended in reality as a

check on the action of the local Government--would of itself place

Ireland in a position utterly unlike the situation of Victoria, and

would also involve both the Imperial and the local Government in endless

difficulties and controversies. If any one doubts this, let him read the

correspondence between Mr. Molteno[46] and Sir Bartle Frere, and

substitute for the Premier of the Cape Colony the name of Mr. Parnell,

and for Sir Bartle Frere the name of any Lord-Lieutenant who might be

unfortunate enough to hold office in Ireland after Mr. Parnell became

Premier of an Irish Cabinet. Suppose, however, that by some miracle of

management or good luck the Irish and English forces acted well

together, and that the satisfaction given by a state of things

approaching to independence prevented for the moment all attempts at

separation, England might escape peril, but she would assuredly not

avoid deserved disgrace. An Irish Parliament, returned in the main by

the very men who support the National League, would assuredly pass laws

which every man in England, and many men throughout Ireland, would hold

to be unjust, and which, whether in themselves unjust or not, would

certainly set aside Imperial legislation, which England is bound by

every consideration of honour and justice to uphold. There is no need to

demonstrate here what has been demonstrated by one writer after another,

and, indeed, hardly needs proof, that at the present day an Irish

Parliament would certainly deprive Irish landlords, and possibly deprive

Irish Protestants, of rights which the Imperial Parliament would never

take away, and which the Imperial Government is absolutely bound to

protect.[47] If the English Government were to be base enough to

acquiesce in legislation which the Imperial Parliament would never

itself have countenanced, then England would be dishonoured; if Bill

after Bill passed by the Irish Legislature were prevented from becoming

law by veto after veto, then English honour might be saved, but the

self-government of Ireland would be at an end, nor would England gain

much in credit. The English Ministry can, as long as the connection with

a colony endures, arrest Colonial legislation. But the Home Government

cannot for any effective purpose interfere with the administrative

action of a Colonial Executive. Given courts, an army, and a police

controlled by the leaders of the Land League, and it is easy to see how

rents might be abolished and landlords driven into exile without the

passing by the Irish Parliament of a single Act which a Colonial

Secretary could reasonably veto, or which even an English court could

hold void under the provisions of the Colonial Laws Act. It is indeed

probable that wild legislation at Dublin might provoke armed resistance

in Ulster. But a movement which, were Ireland an independent nation,

might ensure just government for all classes of Irishmen would, if

Ireland were a colony, only add a new element of confusion to an already

intolerable state of affairs. Imagine for a moment what would have been

the position of England if Englishmen had been convinced that Riel,

though technically a rebel, was in reality a patriot, resisting the

intolerable oppression of the Dominion Parliament, and you may form some

slight idea of the feeling of shame and disgrace with which Englishmen

would see British soldiers employed to suppress the revolt of Ulster

against a Government which, without English aid, would find it difficult

to resist or punish the insurgents. The most painful and least

creditable feature in the history of the United States is the apathy

with which for thirty years the Northern States tolerated Southern

lawlessness, and even now indirectly support Southern oppression.

2nd.--If Colonial independence would be found in Ireland inconsistent

with the protection of England's interests and with the discharge of

England's duties, it would also fail to produce the one result which

would be an adequate compensation for many probable or certain

evils--namely, the extinction of Irish discontent.

It is by no means certain, indeed, that Colonial independence would be

accepted with genuine acquiescence by any class of Irishmen. Certainly

the demand for Grattan's Parliament lends no countenance to the

supposition that the people of Ireland would accept with satisfaction a

political arrangement which is absolutely opposed in its character to

the Constitution of 1782.[48] Suppose, however, for the sake of

argument, that the Irish leaders and the Irish people accepted the offer

of Colonial independence; we may be well assured that this acceptance

would not produce good-will towards England, and this not from the

perversity of the Irish nature, of which we hear a great deal too much,

but from difficulties in the nature of things, of which we hear a great

deal too little. The restrictions on the authority of the Irish

Parliament would, one cannot doubt, be, as safeguards for the authority

of the Imperial Government, absolutely illusory. But they would be

intensely irritating. Irish leaders would wish, and from their own point

of view rightly wish, to carry through a revolutionary policy. The

Imperial Government would attempt, and from an English point of view

rightly attempt, to arrest revolution. Every considerable legislative

measure would give ground for negotiation and for understandings--that

is, for dissatisfaction and for misunderstanding. There would be

disputes about the land laws, disputes about the army, disputes about

the police, disputes about the authority of Imperial legislation,

disputes about the validity of Irish enactments, disputes about appeals

to the Privy Council. To say that all these sources of irritation might

embitter the relation between England and Victoria, and that, as they do

not habitually do so, one may infer that they will not embitter the

relation between England and Ireland, is to argue that institutions

nominally the same will work in the same way when applied to totally

different circumstances. Victoria is prosperous; Ireland is in distress.

Victoria takes pride in the Imperial connection; the difficulty in

dealing with Ireland consists in the fact that large bodies of Irishmen

detest the British Empire. Victoria has never aspired to be a nation;

the best side of Irish discontent consists in enthusiasm for Irish

nationality. Above all this, there has never been any lasting feud

between England and her Australian dependencies; the main ground in

favour of a fundamental change in the constitutional relations of

Ireland and England is the necessity of putting an end at almost any

cost to traditional hatred and misunderstanding generated by centuries

of misgovernment and misery. If, as already pointed out, the source of

this misery, so far as it can be touched by law at all, is a vicious

system of land tenure, it is in vain to imagine that the misfortunes of

Ireland can be cured by any mere change of constitutional forms. Grant,

however, for the sake of argument, that the passion of nationality is

the true ground of the demand for Home Rule; grant, also, in defiance of

patent facts, that the autonomy of a dependency satisfies the

sensibilities of a nation; still it is idle to fancy that a system

based, like our scheme of Colonial government, on friendly

understandings and the habitual practice of compromise, can regulate the

relations of two countries which are kept apart mainly because they

cannot understand one another, and can neither of them admit the

necessity of mutual concessions. Moreover, a scheme of nominal

subjection combined with real independence has the one great defect that

it does not teach the lessons which men and nations learn by depending

on their own unassisted and uncontrolled efforts. No one learns

self-control who fancies he is controlled by a master.[49]

The scheme, in short, of Colonial independence, though less absolutely

impracticable than any form of Federalism,[50] has, as a solution of our

Irish difficulties, two fatal defects: it gives Ireland a degree of

independence more dangerous to England than would be the existence of

Ireland as a separate nation; it bestows on Ireland a kind of

self-government which presents neither the material advantages derived

from the Union, nor the possible, though hypothetical, gains which might

accrue to her from the self-control and energy supposed to flow from the

inspiring sentiment of nationality. Still the Colonial system is, in

spite of its immense defects as a scheme of Home Rule for Ireland, out

and out the least objectionable of the models which have been proposed

to us for our imitation, and this for several reasons. To grant to

Ireland, if she be prepared to accept it, the position of Victoria is

not to impair the supremacy of Parliament; if we copied faithfully the

Victorian polity, every Irish member of Parliament would permanently

depart from Westminster; there would be no more need for having at

Westminster a representative of Dublin than there is for having a

representative of Melbourne; the Irish Parliament would depend for its

very existence on an Act of the Imperial Parliament, and the British

Parliament would be able without consulting any Irish representative to

modify, override, or abolish all or any part of the Act constituting the

Irish Parliament. In this there would be no breach of faith, for the

Constitution would bear on its face that the Act of Parliament on which

it depended could be changed by the British Parliament as lawfully as

can the Act 18 & 19 Vict. c. 55, which calls into existence the

Victorian legislature. The undoubted legal authority and ease with which

the British Parliament could suspend or abolish the Irish Constitution

would have two good results: the one that Great Britain would have a

sanction by which to enforce the adherence of the Irish government to

just principles of legislation and of administration; the other that the

readiness with which this sanction could be applied would, it is not

unlikely, make its application needless. England, again, would not by

the concession of Colonial independence dislocate her own Constitution:

she would only be extending to Ireland a scheme of government already

existing in other parts of the Empire, and would find herself possessed

of officials accustomed to make a Colonial Constitution work. Nothing

would be changed: there would only be one Colony the more, and the

Colonial Office would find no insuperable difficulty in undertaking the

government of Ireland in the same sense in which the Office undertakes

the government of Victoria. The position, it may be objected, would be a

very poor one for Ireland. With this objection I entirely agree: my very

contention is that for Ireland, no less than for England, it is best

that Ireland shall form part of the United Kingdom. Home Rulers think

otherwise: they prefer the local autonomy of Victoria to a share in the

United Kingdom. They may probably, however, say that taxation involves

representation, and that if Ireland is to take the disadvantages she

must also have the immunities of a colony. Here fair-minded men will

hold that the Home Rulers are right. The maxim, indeed, that taxation

involves representation need not deeply impress any one who remembers

that throughout the United Kingdom the property of every woman is taxed,

and that no woman has a share in Parliamentary representation. But a

formula which is not logically defensible may yet be the embodiment of a

just claim. If the very hazardous experiment of placing Ireland in the

position of Victoria is to be tried, it must be tried fairly and with

every circumstance which may increase its chances of success. Ireland on

assuming the position of a colony should, like other colonies, be freed

from Imperial taxation. England can afford the sacrifice of three or

four millions a year, and she would obtain a valuable _quid pro quo_ in

the increased homogeneity of the British Parliament. Ireland too would

gain something. A country impoverished, in part at least through bad

government, might think it no hard bargain to gain at once local

independence and exemption from a heavy weight of taxation. The absence

of anything like a tribute to Great Britain would be an immense

advantage, for it would remove one cause of certain discontent, and

would for once place England before the Irish people at any rate in the

light of a liberal ally. Let me not be misunderstood. I do not recommend

Home Rule under any form whatever: what I do assert is that of all its

forms the Colonial form is the least injurious to British interests, and

that the experiment of placing Ireland in the situation of Victoria can

be carried out neither with fairness nor with any chance of success,

unless Englishmen let Ireland, like Victoria, be exempt from Imperial

taxation. If any English taxpayer says that the price is too high to pay

for the success of an experiment of which I do not myself recommend the

trial, I am not concerned to consider whether he is right. My only

concern is to insist that the sacrifice of three or four millions per

annum is an essential feature of this particular scheme of Home Rule,

and that persons who say the sacrifice is too great have only added one

to the many arguments which lead to the conclusion that under no form

whatever can Irish Home Rule be accepted by England.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Objection to Constitution of 1782, not faults of Irish

Parliament.]

III. _Home Rule as the revival of Grattan's Constitution._--The cry for

Home Rule sometimes takes the form of a demand that Ireland should

reacquire the Constitution of 1782. The true answer to this demand is

not to be found where Englishmen often seek for it, in attacks on

Grattan's Parliament. That body exhibited some grave defects common to

the English Parliament of the day; it had also many faults of its own to

answer for; but it had with all its demerits virtues which still cast a

halo round its memory in the eyes of Irish patriotism, and which serve

to redeem many of its admitted faults in the judgment of impartial

history. It produced great men. Flood, Grattan, Curran, and Fitzgibbon

were none of them faultless statesmen, but they were leaders of whom any

people have a right to be proud. Grattan's Parliament, moreover, though

it represented a class, represented a class of Irishmen, and we may even

say the best class of Irishmen. It was lastly, with all its defects, a

Parliament of men who knew and belonged to Ireland, and after its

lights cared for the country. It was in a true sense a national

Parliament. When we consider further that the Parliament was abolished

against the wish of the best men in Ireland, that it was abolished by

arts which have brought lasting and just discredit on the men who

carried through the Act of Union, we can well understand why as calm and

as well-informed judges as Mr. Lecky hold to the belief--certainly in

nowise in itself unreasonable--that the Treaty of Union was, to say the

least, premature, and that England and Ireland would have gained much if

for a generation or two more the interest and repute of Ireland had been

guarded by an Irish Parliament. The argument that the Irish Parliament

because it was corrupt, or because it represented a class, was rightly

abolished, proves too much. The English Parliament under Walpole was at

least as open as the Irish Parliament in the time of Grattan to each of

these charges, yet long before legislation had removed the flagrant

anomalies of the unreformed House of Commons the English Parliament had

cast off its worst vices, and few persons will maintain that England

would have gained if during the time of Walpole Parliamentary government

had been abolished. Be this as it may, vituperation of Grattan's

Parliament is for our present purpose as irrelevant as it is unjust and

injudicious.

[Sidenote: True objection, restoration impossible.]

The true reason for declining to consider the demand for the

Constitution of 1782 is, that to concede it is in the strictest sense of

the word an impossibility. Grattan's Constitution not only is dead, but

can look for no resurrection. The social, the political, the religious,

we might almost say the physical conditions under which Grattan's

Parliament existed have vanished, never to return. "It cannot be too

clearly understood," writes Mr. Lecky, "that the real meaning of the

separate Irish Parliament of the eighteenth century was that the

efficient government of the country was placed in the hands of its

Protestant gentry, qualified by the fact that the English Government

possessed a sufficient number of nomination boroughs to exercise a

constant controlling influence over their proceedings. The existing

Grand Juries and the Synod of the disestablished Church are the bodies

which now represent most faithfully the independent elements in

Grattan's Parliament. That Parliament consisted exclusively of men who

were bound to the English connection by the closest ties of interest and

sentiment [and] who were pre-eminently the representatives of

property."[51] We may deplore that such a Parliament was doomed to

destruction when it might possibly have been saved by reform. But to any

one who has eyes to see it is as clear as day that with Protestant

ascendancy, with the prestige of the Established Church, with the

leading position of Irish landlords, with the submission of Irish

tenants, with the power of control exercised by the English Government,

with the necessary dependence of the English Colony upon the connection

with England, Grattan's Constitution with all its possibilities or

impossibilities has vanished for ever. You can no more restore the

Parliament of 1782 in Ireland than you can restore the unreformed

Parliament of 1832 in England. In either case to reproduce the form

would not renew the spirit, and the attempted revival of an anomaly

would turn out the creation of a monstrosity.

One consideration suggested by the memory of Grattan's Parliament is

well worth attention. With the curious laxity of thought about

constitutional changes which marks modern British statesmanship,

language is often used which implies that to ask for Grattan's

Parliament is equivalent to asking for Colonial self-government as in

Victoria. No two things are in reality more different. It is no

exaggeration to say that the Constitution of 1782 presented in its

principles the exact antithesis to the modern Constitution of Victoria.

Grattan's Constitution rested on the absolute denial of British

Parliamentary sovereignty. The keynote of his policy was the

Parliamentary independence of Ireland; its aim was to make Ireland an

independent nation connected with England only by goodwill, by common

interest, and by what has been called the "golden link" of the Crown.

The statement indeed that between the date of Irish Parliamentary

independence and the date of the Union England and Ireland were governed

under two crowns, is not much better than a piece of rhetorical

antiquarianism.[52] It is, however, undoubtedly true that from 1782 to

1800 the British Parliament had no more right to legislate for Ireland

than at the present day it has to legislate for New York, and no appeal

lay from any Irish Court to any English tribunal. But if under the

Constitution of 1782 Ireland was in one sense an independent nation, she

could not under that Constitution be called a self-governed country. The

Irish Executive was controlled by George the Third and his English

Ministers, and the passing of the Act of Union was proof, if evidence

were needed, that England possessed potent though unavowed means for

controlling the decision of the Irish Legislature. The Constitution, it

may be added, bore exactly the fruit to be expected from its anomalous

character. It stimulated national feeling; this was its saving merit. It

did not secure supremacy to the will of the Irish nation; this, as

appeared in 1800, was its fatal flaw. Compare with this the

Constitution of Victoria. The Victorian Constitution is based on

complete acknowledgment of English Parliamentary sovereignty. But the

amplest recognition of British authority is balanced by the unrestricted

enjoyment of local self-government. Hence Victoria manages her own

affairs, but Victorians are not inspired with the sense of constituting

a nation.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Gladstonian Constitution--its character.]

IV. _Home Rule under the Gladstonian Constitution_[53]--No legislative

proposal submitted to Parliament has ever received harder measure than

the Government of Ireland Bill. Its introduction aroused the keenest

political battle which during half a century has been fought in England.

The Bill therefore became at once the mark of hostile and (what is

nearly the same thing) of unfair criticism at the hands of opponents.

This was to be expected; it is the necessary result of the system which

makes tenure of office depend on success in carrying through or

resisting proposed legislation. What did take place but was not to be

expected was, that the Government of Ireland Bill met with harsh

criticism at the hands of its friends. The Opposition wished to prove

that the principle of the Bill was bad, by showing that it led to

disastrous and absurd results. They therefore directed their assaults

upon the details of a measure which they disliked in reality not because

of the special provisions which they attacked, but because of the

principle to which these provisions gave effect. Ministeralists on the

other hand were only too ready to surrender any clause in the Bill as a

matter of detail, provided only they could persuade Parliament to

sanction the principle of the measure, and thereby affirm the policy of

giving Ireland an Irish Executive and an Irish Parliament. Nor was this

course of action dictated solely by the exigencies of Parliamentary

strategy. Ministerialists saw the flaws in the Bill as plainly as did

the Opposition, and no man (it may be conjectured), from the Premier who

devised, down to the draughtsman who drew, the Government of Ireland

Bill, would have wished it to become an Act in the form in which it

stood on the 7th day of June, 1886. The supporters, moreover, of the

Government emphasized their dislike to the details of the particular

measure, because to attack a detail of the machinery by which it was

proposed to give Ireland Home Rule countenanced in the critic's own mind

the assumption that some mechanism could be invented which might carry

out the principle of creating an Irish Parliament without violating the

conditions on which alone the idea of any such measure could be

entertained by any English statesman. Opponents, in short, of the

Government of Ireland Bill attacked its details out of hostility to its

principle; its defenders tried to win approval for its principle by

conceding or insisting upon the defects of its details.[54] The result

was unfortunate. The Bill was never either by its opponents or its

friends regarded in the light in which it ought to be viewed by a

constitutional lawyer. It was never criticised as a whole; it never

therefore received full justice. Whoever examines the now celebrated

Bill in the spirit of a jurist will see that it constitutes, in spite of

many obvious blots both in its special provisions and in its language, a

most ingenious attempt to solve the problem of giving to Ireland a

legislature which shall be at once practically independent, and

theoretically dependent, upon the Parliament of Great Britain; which

shall have full power to make laws and appoint an executive for Ireland,

and yet shall not use that power in a way opposed to English interests

or sense of justice. The problem (it may be said) admits of no solution.

This may be so, and is indeed my own conviction. But this conviction

ought not to prevent the acknowledgment that the Bill is the rough

outline of an ingeniously attempted solution. If the Bill fails in

achieving its object, the failure arises not from mistakes of detail,

but from the unsoundness of the principle on which the Bill rests, and

shows that the conditions on which Englishmen can wisely give Home Rule

to Ireland are conditions which no scheme of Home Rule can satisfy. The

idea which lies at the basis of the plan sketched out in the Government

of Ireland Bill is the combination of the Federal system and the

Colonial system of Home Rule. The right mode of criticising this

combination is first to trace in the barest outline the leading features

of the Bill, treating it much as if it had become an Act, and had given

to Ireland an actual Constitution; and next to examine how far this

Constitution, which may with no unfairness be called the "Gladstonian

Constitution," satisfies the conditions which a scheme of Home Rule is

bound to fulfil.

The Gladstonian Constitution establishes a new form of government in

Ireland; it also modifies, or, to use plain and accurate language,

repeals the main provisions of the Act of Union, and thus introduces a

fundamental change into the existing Constitution of England.[55]

The following are for our present purpose its principal features.

[Sidenote: Its features as regards government of Ireland.]

As regards the government of Ireland--

The Executive Government of Ireland is vested in the Queen, but is

carried on by the Lord-Lieutenant and a Council.[56] Though the

formation and powers of the Executive are under the Constitution left

very much at large, we may fairly assume that the authors of the

Constitution intend that the Lord-Lieutenant should occupy the position

in substance of Colonial Governor, and rule Ireland through a ministry

appointed nominally by the Lord-Lieutenant, but in reality selected by

the Irish legislative body. In this manner the Irish Constitution is,

like that of Victoria, a copy of the English original.

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