CHAPTER VI

AUSTRALIA AND IRELAND

I have described the Canadian crisis at considerable length because it

was the turning-point in Imperial policy. Yet policy is scarcely the

right word. The Colonists themselves wrenched the right to

self-government from a reluctant Mother Country, and the Mother Country

herself was hardly conscious of the loss of her prerogatives until it

was too late to regret or recall them. The men who on principle believed

in and laboured for Home Rule for Canada were a mere unconsidered

handful in the country, while most of those who voted for the Act of

1840 thought that it killed Home Rule. No general election was held to

obtain the "verdict of the predominant partner" on the real question at

issue, with the cry of "American dollars" (which had, in fact, been

paid); with lurid portraits of Papineau and Mackenzie levying black-mail

on the Prime Minister, and quotations from their old speeches to show

that they were traitors to the Empire; with jeremiads about the terrors

of Rome, the abandonment of the loyal minority, and the dismemberment of

the Empire, to shake the nerves and stimulate the slothful conscience of

an ignorant electorate. Had there been any such opportunity we know it

would have been used, and we can guess what the result would have been;

for nothing is easier, alas! than to spur on a democracy with such cries

as these to the exercise of the one function it should refrain

from--interference with another democracy, be it in Ireland or anywhere

else. As it was, a merciful veil fell over Canada; Lord Elgin's action

in 1849 passed with little notice, and a mood of weary indifference to

colonial affairs, for which, in default of any Imperial idealism, we

cannot be too thankful, took possession of Parliament and the nation.

It was in this mood that the measures conferring self-government on the

Australasian Colonies, 12,000 miles away from the Mother Country, and

exciting proportionately less concern than Canada, were passed a few

years later.

From the landing of the first batch of convicts at Botany Bay in 1788,

New South Wales, the Mother Colony, was a penal settlement pure and

simple, under military Government, for some thirty years. The island

Colony, Tasmania, founded under the name of Van Diemen's Land in 1803,

was used for the same purpose. Victoria, originally Port Phillip, just

escaped a like fate in 1803, and remained uncolonized till 1835, when

the free settlers set their faces against the penal system, and in 1845,

acting like the Bostonians of 1774 with the famous cargo of tea, refused

to allow a cargo of convicts to land. South Australia, first settled in

1829, also escaped; so did New Zealand, which was annexed to the Crown

in 1839. Western Australia, dating from 1826, proceeded on the opposite

principle to that of Victoria. Free from convicts until 1849, when

transportation to other Colonies was checked at their own repeated

request, and came to an end in 1852, this Colony, owing to a chronic

shortage of labour, actually petitioned the Home Government to divert

the stream of criminals to its shores, with the result that in ten

years' time nearly half the male adults in the Colony, and more than

half in the towns, were, or had been, convicts. It was not until 1865,

under strong pressure from the other Colonies, that the system was

finally abolished which threw Western Australia forty years behind its

sister Colonies in the attainment of Home Rule.

The transportation policy has been unmercifully criticized, and with all

the more justice in that Pitt, when the American war closed the

traditional dumping-ground for criminals, had the chance of employing

the exiled loyalists of America, many of whom were starving in London,

as pioneers of the new lands in the Antipodes. "The outcasts of an old

society cannot form the foundations of a new one," said a Parliamentary

Report of July 28, 1785. But they could do so, and did do so. Ruskin's

saying, _à propos_ of Australia, that "under fit conditions the human

race does not degenerate, but wins its way to higher levels," comes

nearer the truth. In an amazingly short time after the transportation

policy was reversed the taint disappeared. We must remember, however,

that, sheer refuse as some of the convicts were, especially in the later

period, a large number of the earlier convicts were the product of that

"stupid severity of our laws" which the Vicar of Wakefield deplored, and

to this category belonged many an unhappy Irish peasant, sound in

character, but driven into Whiteboyism, or into the rebellions of 1798

and 1803 by some of the worst laws the human brain ever conceived.

Hundreds of these men survived the barbarous and brutalizing ordeal of a

penal imprisonment to become prosperous and industrious citizens.

It was not until 1825, or thereabouts, that free white settlers, many

Irishmen among them, came in any substantial number to the Mother Colony

of New South Wales, and not until 1832 that these men began to press

claims for the management of their own affairs, under the inspiration of

an Irish surgeon's son, William Wentworth, the Hampden of Australia. The

later Colonies rapidly came into line, Western Australia, for the reason

given above, remaining stationary. The first representative institutions

were granted in 1842 to New South Wales, and in 1850 to Victoria, South

Australia, and Tasmania. At that date, therefore, these settlements

stood in much the same constitutional position as the Canadas had stood

in 1791 (although technically their Constitutions were of a different

kind), but with this important difference, that the Act of 1850, "for

the better Government of Her Majesty's Australian Colonies," gave power

to those Colonies to frame new Constitutions for themselves. This they

soon proceeded to do, each constructing its own, but all keeping in view

the same model, the British Constitution itself, and aiming at the same

ideal, responsible Government by a Colonial Cabinet under a Government

representing the Crown. Since responsible Government in Great Britain

itself was not a matter of legal enactment, but the product of slowly

evolved conventions and precedents, to which political scientists had

not yet given a scientific form, it is no wonder that the colonial

Constitution-makers found great difficulty in expressing exactly what

they wanted in legal terms, and, indeed, none of them came near

succeeding; but time, their own political instinct, a succession of

sensible Governors, and the forbearance of the Home Government solved

the problem, and evolved home-ruled States legally subordinate to the

Crown, but with a Constitution closely resembling our own. The

Constitutions became law by Acts of the Imperial Parliament passed by a

Liberal Ministry in 1855. They are of unusual interest because they

represent the first rude attempt to put into legal language a small part

of the theory of the British Constitution as applied to dependencies of

the Crown.

In the most vital point of all, the relation of the dependency to the

Home Government (as distinguished from questions of internal political

structure), they are almost as reserved as the Canadian Act of 1840,

which, as we have seen, did not recognize by a word the duty of the

Governor to govern through a Colonial Cabinet. In certain clauses they

hint, by distant implication, at the existence of such a Cabinet,

responsible to the colonial popular Legislature--the Canadian Act did

not assume even that--but they do not anywhere imply that the Governor

is bound normally to place himself in the hands of that Cabinet, while

they expressly and rightly reaffirm the supreme power of the Crown,

whether acting through the Governor or not, over colonial legislation.

How far this reticence about responsible Government facilitated the

passage of the Australian Acts in the British Parliament, as it

certainly facilitated the Canadian Act of 1840, it is difficult to

decide. It was probably a factor of some importance. At any rate, it is

true to say that Home Rule, as in Canada, was mainly a result of

practice rather than of statutory enactment. The case of New Zealand is

a striking example of this. In 1852 New Zealand obtained from a Tory

Government a Constitutional Act, which resembles the Canadian Act of

1840 in abstaining from any expression, direct or indirect which implies

the existence of a Colonial Cabinet, and it is probable that the framers

of the Act intended no such development, but on the contrary

contemplated a permanent, irremovable Executive. But the Act was no

sooner passed than an agitation began for responsible government, under

the leadership of Edward Gibbon Wakefield, part-author of the Durham

Report, and at that time a member of the New Zealand Assembly. By 1855,

when the Australian Acts were passed, New Zealand, without further

legislation, had obtained what she wanted.

To complete the story, Queensland, carved out of New South Wales in

1859, entered upon full responsible government at once, and Western

Australia, retarded for so long by the servile system of convict-labour,

gained the same rights in 1890.

Reading the debates of the middle of the nineteenth century, one is left

with the impression that the Australasian Colonies obtained Home Rule by

virtue of their distance, and because most politicians at home could not

be bothered to fight hard against a principle which at bottom they

disliked as heartily for the Colonies as for Ireland. The views of the

various parties were not much changed since the days of the crisis in

Canada. There were some able Colonial Secretaries who thoroughly

understood and believed in the principle of responsible government. On

the other hand, some Liberals were not yet converted, though Liberal

Governments fathered the Constitutional Acts of 1850 and 1855.

Disraeli's well-known saying in 1852 that "these wretched Colonies will

all be independent, too, in a few years, and are a mill-stone round our

necks," was typical of the Tory attitude.[29] Lord John Russell, in the

same year, 1852, was complaining, as Lord Morley tells us,[30] that we

were "throwing the shields of our authority away," and leaving "the

monarchy exposed in the Colonies to the assaults of democracy." A group

of Radicals, headed by Sir William Molesworth and Hume in Parliament,

and by Wakefield from outside, still pushed the policy of emancipation

energetically and persistently on the principle which they had urged in

the case of Canada, that freedom was better both for the Colonies and

the Mother Country.

But Molesworth and Wakefield gained one illustrious convert and

coadjutor in the person of Mr. Gladstone, whose speeches on the Colonies

at this period, 1849 to 1855, placed him, in regard to that topic, in

the Radical ranks, and in veiled opposition to the Whig leaders. Lord

Morley quotes a minute from his hand, written in 1852 in answer to the

view of Lord John Russell, referred to above, where he says "that the

nominated Council and independent Executive were not 'shields of

authority,' but sources of weakness, disorder, disunion, and

disloyalty." His Parliamentary and platform speeches, passing with

little notice at the time, nevertheless remain the most eloquent and

exalted expression of wise colonial policy that is to be found in our

language. If it was not till a generation later that he applied the same

arguments to the case of Ireland, the arguments nevertheless did apply

to Ireland almost word for word. Proximity to the Mother Country does

not affect them. Mr. Gladstone attacks the problem on its human side,

showing that coercive government is always and everywhere bad for those

who administer it, and bad for those who live under it, expensive,

inefficient, demoralizing, and that the longer it is maintained the more

difficult it is to remove. He condemns the fallacy of preparing men by

slow degrees for freedom, and the "miserable jargon about fitting them

for the privileges thus conferred, while in point of fact every year and

every month during which they are retained under the administration of a

despotic Government renders them less fit for free institutions." As to

cost, "no consideration of money ought to induce Parliament to sever the

connection between any one of the Colonies and the Mother Country," but

the greater part of the cost, he urged, was due to the despotic system

itself. His words are more applicable to the Ireland of to-day than the

Ireland of the middle of the nineteenth century, for it is one of the

many painful anomalies of Irish history that that country, at the lowest

point of its economic misery, was paying a relatively enormous

contribution to Imperial funds, and, incidentally, to the colonial vote,

while the Colonies were maintained at a loss correspondingly large, and

at times even larger.[31] But cost is, after all, a very small matter.

The first consideration is the character and happiness of human beings,

and here Gladstone's words, like Durham's, have a universal application.

If the reader cannot study them at length in Hansard, he should read

the great speech on the New Zealand Bill in 1852, and Lord Morley's

masterly summary of others. I conclude with a passage quoted by him from

a platform speech at Chester in 1855, the year when the Australian

Constitutions were sanctioned. "Experience has proved that if you want

to strengthen the connection between the Colonies and this country, if

you want to see British law held in respect, and British institutions

adopted and beloved in the Colonies, never associate with them the hated

name of force and coercion exercised by us at a distance over their

rising fortunes. Govern them upon a principle of freedom." At that

moment, after half a century of coercion and neglect under what was

called the "Union," Ireland was bleeding, as it seemed, to death.

Scarcely recovered from the stunning blow of the famine, she was

undergoing in a fresh dose of clearances and evictions the result of

that masterpiece of legislative unwisdom, the Encumbered Estates Act.

Her people were leaving her by hundreds of thousands, cursing the name

of England as bitterly as the evicted Ulster farmers and the ruined

weavers of the eighteenth century had cursed it, and bearing their

wrongs and hatred to the same friendly shore, America. For the main

stream of emigration, which before the Union had set towards the

American States, and from the Union until the famine towards Canada,

reverted after the famine towards the United States, impregnating that

nation with an hostility to Great Britain which in subsequent years

became a grave international danger, and which, though greatly

diminished, still remains an obstacle to the closer union of the

English-speaking races. On the other hand, it is interesting to observe

that among the Irish emigrants to countries within the Empire, and a

very important part of this emigration was to Australasia, the

anti-British sentiment was far less tenacious, though the affection for

their own native country was no less passionate.

Whatever we may conclude about the motives behind the concession of Home

Rule to Australia and New Zealand, we may regard it as fortunate that

they lay too far away for any close criticism from statesmen at home,

whether before or after the attainment of self-government. Most of these

statesmen would have been scandalized by the manner in which these

vigorous young democracies, destitute of the patrician element, shaped

their own political destiny by the light of nature and in the teeth of

great difficulties. Almost to a man their leaders in this great work

would have been regarded as "turbulent demagogues and dangerous

agitators," and often were so regarded, when the rumour of their

activities penetrated to far-off London. The old catchwords of

revolution, spoliation and treason, consecrated to the case of Ireland,

would have been applied here with equal vehemence, and were in fact

applied by the official classes in the Colonies themselves, round whom

small anti-democratic groups, calling themselves "loyal," crystallized,

as in the Provinces of Upper Canada and in Ireland, and with whom the

ruling classes at home were in instinctive sympathy. There were stormy,

agitated times, there were illegal movements against the reception of

convicts, struggles over land questions, religious questions, financial

questions, the emancipation of ex-convicts, and the many difficult

problems raised by the discovery of gold and the mushroom growth of

digger communities in remote places. There was in the air more genuine

lawlessness--irrespective, I mean, of revolt against bad laws--than ever

existed in Ireland, though there was never at any time any practical

grievance approaching in magnitude to the practical grievances of

Ireland at the same period. But, could the spirit of English

statesmanship towards analogous problems in Ireland have been maintained

in Australasia, systematically translated into law and enforced with the

help of coercion acts by soldiers and police, communities would have

been artificially produced presenting all the lawless and retrograde

features of Ireland.

The famous affair of the Eureka Stockade in 1854 is an interesting

illustration. A great mass of diggers collected in the newly discovered

Ballarat goldfields had petitioned repeatedly against the Government

regulations about mining licences, for which extortionate fees were

levied. This was before responsible government. The goldfields were not

represented in the Legislature, and there was no constitutional method

of redress. The authorities held obstinately to their obsolete and

irritating regulations, and eventually the miners revolted under the

leadership of an Irishman, Peter Lalor, and with the watchword "Vinegar

Hill." There was a pitched battle with the military forces of the

Crown, ending after much bloodshed in the victory of the soldiers. Lalor

was wounded, and carried into hiding by his friends. Other captured

rioters were tried for "high treason" before juries of townsmen picked

by the Crown on the lines long familiar in Ireland; but even these

juries refused to convict, as they so often refused to convict in cases

of agrarian crime in Ireland. The State trials were then abandoned, a

Royal Commission reported against the licence system, and Parliamentary

representation was given to the goldfields. It came to be universally

acknowledged that the talk of "treason" was nonsense, that the outbreak

had been provoked by laws which could not be constitutionally changed,

and that the moral was to change them, not to expatriate and persecute

those who had suffered under them. Lalor reappeared, entered political

life, became Speaker of the reformed Assembly of 1856, and lived and

died respected by everyone. He now appears as a prominent figure in a

little book entitled "Australian Heroes," and it is admitted that the

whole episode powerfully assisted the movement for responsible

government in the Colony. Smith O'Brien, Meagher, Mitchell, and others

concerned in the Irish rebellion of 1848 were at that moment languishing

in the penal settlement of Tasmania for sedition provoked by laws fifty

times worse; laws, too, that a Royal Commission three years earlier had

shown to be inconsistent with social peace, and which others

subsequently condemned in still stronger terms. From their first

establishment far back in the seventeenth century it took two centuries

to abolish these laws. In the Australian case it took one year.

As for the Irishmen of all creeds and classes who took such an important

part in the splendid work of building up these new communities, and who

are still estimated to constitute a quarter of the population, one can

only marvel at the intensity of the prejudice which declared these men

"unfit" for self-government at home, and which is not yet dissipated by

the discovery that they were welcomed under the Southern Cross, not only

as good workaday citizens in town, bush, or diggings, but as barristers,

judges, bankers, stock-owners, mine-owners, as honoured leaders in

municipal and political life, as Speakers of the Representative

Assemblies, and as Ministers and Prime Ministers of the Crown.[32] is

true, and the fact cannot surprise us, that the intestinal divisions of

race and creed in Ireland itself, stereotyped there by ages of bad

government, were at first to a certain extent reproduced in Australia,

as in Canada. Aggressive Orangeism was to be found sowing discord where

no cause for discord existed. But the common sense of the community and

the pure air of freedom tended to sterilize, though they have not to

this day wholly killed, these germs of disease. A career was opened to

every deserving Irishman, whether Catholic or Protestant. Hungry,

hopeless, listless cottiers from Munster and Connaught built up

nourishing towns like Geelong and Kilmore. Two Irishmen, Dunne and

Connor, were the first discoverers of the Ballarat goldfields. An

Irishman, Robert O'Hara Burke, led the first transcontinental

expedition, and another Irishman, Ambrose Kyte, financed it; Wentworth

was the father of Australian liberties. An Irish Roman Catholic, Sir

Redmond Barry, founded the Public Library, Museum, and University of

Melbourne. In the political annals of Victoria and New South Wales the

names of Irish Catholics, men to whom no worthy political career was

open in their own country, were prominent. Sir John O'Shanassy, for

example, was three times Prime Minister of Victoria, Sir Brian

O'Loughlen once. Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, a member of O'Shanassy's

Cabinets, and at last Prime Minister himself, is the colonial statesman

whose career and personality are the best proof of what Ireland has lost

in high-minded, tolerant, constructive statesmanship, through a system

which silenced or drove from her shores the men who loved her most, who

saw her faults and needs with the clearest eyes, and who sought to unite

her people on a footing of self-reliance and mutual confidence. One of

the ablest of O'Connell's young adjutants, editor and founder of the

_Nation_, part-organizer of the Young Ireland Movement which united men

of opposite creeds in one of the finest national movements ever

organized in any country, Duffy's central aim had been to give Ireland a

native Parliament, where Irishmen could solve their own problems for

themselves. He saw the rebellion of 1848 fail, and Mitchell, Smith

O'Brien, Meagher, McManus, and O'Donoghue transported to Tasmania; he

laboured on himself in Ireland for seven years at land reform and other

objects, and in 1855 gave up the struggle against such hopeless odds,

and reached Melbourne early in 1856 in time to sit in the first

Victorian Parliament returned under the constitutional Act of 1855. From

the beginning to the end of an honourable political career which lasted

thirty years, he made it his dominant purpose to ensure that Australia

should be saved from the evils which cursed Ireland; from government by

a favoured class, from land monopoly, and from religious inequality and

the venomous bigotries it engenders, and he took a large share in

bringing about their exclusion. His Land Act of 1862, for example, where

he had another Roman Catholic Irishman, Judge Casey, as an auxiliary,

put an end in those districts where it was fairly worked to the grave

abuses caused by the speculative acquisition of immense tracts of land

by absentee owners, and promoted the closer settlement of the country by

yeoman farmers.

In Australia, as in Canada, we see the vital importance of good land

laws, and can measure the misery which resulted in Ireland from an

agrarian system incalculably more absurd and unjust than anything known

in any other part of the Empire. The stagnation of Western Australia was

originally due to the cession of huge unworkable estates to a handful of

men. South Australia was retarded for some little time from the same

cause, and Victoria and New South Wales were all hampered in the same

way. It was not a question, as in Ireland, and to a less degree in

Prince Edward Island, of the legal relations between the landlord and

tenant of lands originally confiscated, but of the grant and sale of

Crown lands. Yet the after-results, especially in the check to tillage

and the creation of vast pasture ranches, were often very similar.[33]

Duffy was not the only colonial statesman to apply Irish experience to

the problems of newly settled countries. An Englishman who became one of

the greatest of colonial statesmen and administrators, the Radical

Imperialist, Sir George Grey, began life as a Lieutenant on military

service in Ireland in the year 1829, and came away sick with the scenes

he had witnessed at the evictions and forced collections of tithes

where his troops were employed to strengthen the arm of the law.

"Ireland," his biographer, Professor Henderson, tells us,[34] "was to

him a tragedy of unrealized possibilities." The people had "good

capacities for self-government," but Englishmen "showed a vicious

tendency to confuse cause and effect," and attributed to inherent

lawlessness what was a revolt against bad economic conditions. "All that

they or their children could hope for was to obtain, after the keenest

competition, the temporary use of a spot of land on which to exercise

their industry"; "for the tenant's very improvements went to swell the

accumulations of the heirs of an absentee, not of his own." "Haunted by

the Irish problem," Grey made it his effort first in South Australia,

and afterwards in New Zealand, where he was both Governor and Premier at

various times, to secure the utmost possible measure of Home Rule for

the colonists, and, in pursuance of a policy already inaugurated by

Edward Gibbon Wakefield, to establish a land system based, not on

extravagant free grants, or on private tenure, but on sales by the State

to occupiers at fair prices. The aim was to counteract that excessive

accumulation of people in the large cities which, thanks to imperfect

legislation, still exists in most of the Australian States. Subsequent

New Zealand land policy has been generally in the right direction, and

is acknowledged to be highly successful. In the Australian mainland

States the absentee and the squatter caused constant difficulties and

occasional disorder. The Commonwealth at the present day is suffering

for past neglect, and has found itself within the last year compelled to

imitate New Zealand in placing taxes on undeveloped land, with a higher

percentage against absentees.

Let us add that Grey, like Duffy and most of the strongest advocates of

Home Rule for the Colonies, was a Federalist long before Federation

became practical politics, seeing in that policy the best means of

achieving the threefold aim of giving each Colony in a group ample local

freedom, of binding the whole group together into a compact, coherent

State, and of strengthening the connection between that State and the

Mother Country. As Governor at the Cape from 1854 to 1861 he vainly

urged the Home Government to promote a Federal Union of the various

South African States, Dutch and British, in order, as he said, to create

"an United South Africa under the British flag," a scheme which, it is

generally agreed, could then have been carried out, and which would have

saved South Africa from terrible disasters. And he wished to apply the

same Federal principle to the Australian Colonies, and to the case of

Ireland and Great Britain.

He realized earlier than most men that the talk of "separation" and

"disloyalty" was, in his own words already quoted, the result of a

"vicious tendency to confuse cause and effect," and that to govern men

by their own consent, to let them work out their own ideals in their own

way, to encourage, not to repress, their sense of nationality, is the

best way to gain their affection, or, if we choose to use that very

misleading word, their loyalty.

Australia and New Zealand present remarkable examples of this beneficent

process, Australia in particular, because there, for a long time even

after the introduction of responsible government and, indeed, until a

dozen years ago, there was a large party of so-called "disloyalists" who

were never weary of decrying British influences and upholding Australian

nationality. Mr. Jebb, in his "Colonial Nationalism," gives an

interesting account of this movement and of its organ, the widely

circulated _Sydney Bulletin_, with its furiously anti-British views, its

Radicalism, its Republicanism, and what not. He shows amusingly how

entirely harmless the propaganda really was, and what a healthy effect

it actually had in promoting an independence of feeling and national

self-respect among Australians, to such a degree that when the South

African War broke out, there was a universal outburst of patriotism and

a universal desire, which was realized, to share to the full as a nation

in the expense, danger, and hardships of the war. Mr. Jebb adds the

interesting suggestion that the reluctance of New Zealand to enter the

Australian Federation may be partly due to the strong individual

sentiment of nationality evoked within her by the war and the

exceptional exertions she made to aid the Imperial troops.

His book is a psychological study of men in the mass. What he sets out

to prove, and what he does successfully prove, is that the encouragement

of minor nationalities is not merely consistent with, but essential to,

the unity of the Empire. Yet he never mentions Ireland, not even for the

purpose of proving her an exception to the rule, and I do not think I

ever gauged the full extent of the prejudice against that country until

I realized that in such a book such a topic did not receive even a line

of notice; yet one would naturally suppose that it was as important to

the Empire, morally and strategically, to possess the affection and

respect of four and a half million citizens within 60 miles of the

British coast as of the same number of citizens at the Antipodes.

Mr. Jebb is a Unionist. How he reaches his conclusion I do not know. It

would seem to be beyond human power to construct a case against Home

Rule for Ireland, with its strongly marked individuality of character

and sentiment, which did not textually stultify his case for the more

distant dependencies. His party generally is in sympathy with the views

expressed in his book, and has done much to further them. How do they

reconcile them with opposition to Home Rule for Ireland? How do they

explain away the support for that policy in the Dominions? It seems to

me that their only resource would be to say: "We are bound to maintain,

and we have the necessary physical force to maintain, the present

political system in Ireland, because to alter it would impair the formal

legislative 'unity' of the United Kingdom; but let us frankly admit that

as long as we take this view there can be no 'Union' in the highest

sense of the word. Ireland must be retarded and estranged. We cannot

raise Territorial Volunteers within her borders; on the contrary, we

must keep and pay for a standing army of police to preserve our

authority there. Her population must diminish, her vital energy ebb away

to other lands; as a market for our goods and as a source of revenue for

Imperial purposes she must remain undeveloped and unprogressive. She

will continue rightly to agitate for Home Rule, and this agitation will

always be baneful both to her and to us. It will distract her energies

from her own economic and social problems. It will embitter and degrade

our politics, and dislocate our Parliamentary institutions. She must

suffer, we must suffer, the Empire must suffer. It is sad, but

inevitable."

Morality aside, is that common sense? Is it strange that the Colonies

themselves regard such logic, when applied to Ireland, as perverted and

absurd?

Before leaving Australia we have only to recall the fact that at the

close of the last century, after a generation of controversy and

negotiation, the Canadian example of 1867 was at length imitated, and

the Federal Union formed which amalgamated all the mainland States,

together with Tasmania, in the Commonwealth of Australia, and that the

Union was sanctioned and legalized by the Imperial Act of 1900. New

Zealand preferred to remain a distinct State. The Australians departed

in some important respects from the Canadian model, the main difference

being that a greater measure of independence was retained by the

individual States, and smaller powers delegated to the central

Government. This was a matter of voluntary arrangement as between the

States themselves, the Home Government standing wholly aside on the

sound principle that Australia knew its own interests best, and that

what was best for Australia was best for the Empire.

FOOTNOTES:

[29] Letter to Lord Malmesbury, August 13, 1852 ("Memoirs of an

Ex-Minister," by the Earl of Malmesbury, vol. i., p. 344).

[30] "Life of Gladstone," vol. i., p. 363.

[31] Annual Treasury Returns ["Imperial Revenue (Collection and

Expenditure)"]. According to these returns, Ireland's Imperial

contribution in 1839, before the famine, was £3,626,322; in 1849, after

the famine, £2,613,778, and in 1859-60 no less than £5,396,000. At the

latter date the Colonies were estimated to cost three and a half

millions a year, of which nine-tenths were contributed by the taxpayers

at home, British and Irish.

[32] Full information may be found in "The Irish in Australia," by J.F.

Hogan.

[33] For an excellent historical description of the various Australian

land systems, see the official "Year-Book of the Commonwealth," 1909.

[34] "Life of Sir George Grey," Professor G.C. Henderson.

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