This speech was delivered in London, March 31, 1897, at the
annual dinner of the Royal Colonial Institute. The society and
the occasion are sufficiently explained in the opening sentences.
What follows is a broad and lucid statement of Mr. Chamberlain’s
conception of expansive Imperial policy. At the moment when in
the United States the old blood is asserting itself and men are
coming to weary of adventures in stocks and raids in pork products,
to Americans the pronouncement is of peculiar interest. For the
speaker is a practical statesman: he himself has seen working many
of the doctrines he here publishes.
I have now the honor to propose to you the toast of “Prosperity to
the Royal Colonial Institute.” The Institute was founded in 1868,
almost exactly a generation ago, and I confess that I admire the faith
of its promoters, who, in a time not altogether favorable to their
opinions, sowed the seeds of Imperial patriotism, although they must
have known that few of them could live to gather the fruit and to reap
the harvest. But their faith has been justified by the result of their
labors, and their foresight must be recognized in the light of our
present experience.
It seems to me that there are three distinct stages in our Imperial
history. We began to be, and we ultimately became, a great Imperial
Power in the eighteenth century, but, during the greater part of that
time, the colonies were regarded, not only by us, but by every European
Power that possessed them, as possessions valuable in proportion to the
pecuniary advantage which they brought to the mother country, which,
under that order of ideas, was not truly a mother at all, but appeared
rather in the light of a grasping and absentee landlord, desiring to
take from his tenants the utmost rents he could exact. The colonies
were valued and maintained because it was thought that they would be a
source of profit--of direct profit--to the mother country.
That was the first stage, and when we were rudely awakened by the War
of Independence in America from this dream that the colonies could be
held for our profit alone, the second chapter was entered upon, and
public opinion seems then to have drifted to the opposite extreme; and,
because the colonies were no longer a source of revenue, it seems to
have been believed and argued by many people that their separation
from us was only a matter of time, and that that separation should be
desired and encouraged, lest haply they might prove an encumbrance and
a source of weakness.
It was while those views were still entertained, while the Little
Englanders were in their full career, that this Institute was founded
to protest against doctrines so injurious to our interests and so
derogatory to our honor; and I rejoice that what was then, as it were,
“a voice crying in the wilderness” is now the expressed and determined
will of the overwhelming majority of the British people. Partly by
the efforts of this Institute and similar organizations, partly by
the writings of such men as Froude and Seeley, but mainly by the
instinctive good sense and patriotism of the people at large, we have
now reached the third stage in our history, and the true conception
of our Empire. What is that conception? As regards the self-governing
colonies we no longer talk of them as dependencies. The sense of
possession has given place to the sentiment of kinship.
We think and speak of them as part of ourselves, as part of the British
Empire, united to us, although they may be dispersed throughout the
world, by ties of kindred, of religion, of history, and of language,
and joined to us by the seas that formerly seemed to divide us.
But the British Empire is not confined to the self-governing colonies
and the United Kingdom. It includes a much greater area, a much more
numerous population, in tropical climes, where no considerable European
settlement is possible, and where the native population must always
vastly outnumber the white inhabitants; and in these cases also the
same change has come over the Imperial idea. Here also the sense of
possession has given place to a different sentiment,--the sense of
obligation. We feel now that our rule over these territories can
only be justified if we can show that it adds to the happiness and
prosperity of the people, and I maintain that our rule does, and has,
brought security and peace and comparative prosperity to countries that
never knew these blessings before.
In carrying out this work of civilization we are fulfilling what I
believe to be our national mission, and we are finding scope for the
exercise of those faculties and qualities which have made of us a great
governing race. I do not say that our success has been perfect in every
case, I do not say that all our methods have been beyond reproach; but
I do say that in almost every instance in which the rule of the Queen
has been established and the great _Pax Britannica_ has been enforced,
there has come with it greater security to life and property, and a
material improvement in the condition of the bulk of the population.
No doubt, in the first instance, when these conquests have been made,
there has been bloodshed, there has been loss of life among the native
populations, loss of still more precious lives among those who have
been sent out to bring these countries into some kind of disciplined
order, but it must be remembered that that is the condition of the
mission we have to fulfil. There are, of course, among us--there always
are among us, I think--a very small minority of men who are ready to be
the advocates of the most detestable tyrants, provided their skin is
black--men who sympathize with the sorrows of Prempeh and Lobengula,
and who denounce as murderers those of their countrymen who have gone
forth at the command of the Queen, and who have redeemed districts as
large as Europe from the barbarism and the superstition in which they
had been steeped for centuries. I remember a picture by Mr. Selous of
a philanthropist--an imaginary philanthropist, I will hope--sitting
cosily by his fireside and denouncing the methods by which British
civilization was promoted. This philanthropist complained of the use of
Maxim guns and other instruments of warfare, and asked why we could not
proceed by more conciliatory methods, and why the impis of Lobengula
could not be brought before a magistrate, fined five shillings, and
bound over to keep the peace.
No doubt there is humorous exaggeration in this picture, but there is
gross exaggeration in the frame of mind against which it was directed.
You cannot have omelettes without breaking eggs; you cannot destroy
the practices of barbarism, of slavery, of superstition, which for
centuries have desolated the interior of Africa, without the use of
force; but if you will fairly contrast the gain to humanity with the
price which we are bound to pay for it, I think you may well rejoice
in the result of such expeditions as those which have recently been
conducted with such signal success in Nyassaland, Ashanti, Benin, and
Nupé--expeditions which may have, and indeed have, cost valuable lives,
but as to which we may rest assured that for one life lost a hundred
will be gained, and the cause of civilization and the prosperity of the
people will in the long run be eminently advanced. But no doubt such
a state of things, such a mission as I have described, involve heavy
responsibility. In the wide dominions of the Queen the doors of the
temple of Janus are never closed, and it is a gigantic task that we
have undertaken when we have determined to wield the sceptre of empire.
Great is the task, great is the responsibility, but great is the honor;
and I am convinced that the conscience and the spirit of the country
will rise to the height of its obligations, and that we shall have
the strength to fulfil the mission which our history and our national
character have imposed upon us.
In regard to the self-governing colonies our task is much lighter. We
have undertaken, it is true, to protect them with all the strength at
our command against foreign aggression, although I hope that the need
for our intervention may never arise. But there remains what then will
be our chief duty--that is, to give effect to that sentiment of kinship
to which I have referred and which I believe is deep in the heart of
every Briton. We want to promote a closer and a firmer union between
all members of the great British race, and in this respect we have
in recent years made great progress--so great that I think sometimes
some of our friends are apt to be a little hasty, and to expect even a
miracle to be accomplished. I would like to ask them to remember that
time and patience are essential elements in the development of all
great ideas. Let us, gentlemen, keep our ideal always before us. For
my own part, I believe in the practical possibility of a federation
of the British race, but I know that it will come, if it does come,
not by pressure, not by anything in the nature of dictation from this
country, but it will come as the realization of a universal desire,
as the expression of the dearest wish of our colonial fellow-subjects
themselves.
That such a result would be desirable, would be in the interest of all
of our colonies as well as of ourselves, I do not believe any sensible
man will doubt. It seems to me that the tendency of the time is to
throw all power into the hands of the greater empires, and the minor
kingdoms--those which are non-progressive--seem to be destined to
fall into a secondary and subordinate place. But, if Greater Britain
remains united, no empire in the world can ever surpass it in area, in
population, in wealth, or in the diversity of its resources.
Let us, then, have confidence in the future. I do not ask you to
anticipate with Lord Macaulay the time when the New Zealander will
come here to gaze upon the ruins of a great dead city. There are in
our present condition no visible signs of decrepitude and decay. The
mother country is still vigorous and fruitful, is still able to send
forth troops of stalwart sons to people and to occupy the waste spaces
of the earth; but yet it may well be that some of these sister nations
whose love and affection we eagerly desire may in the future equal and
even surpass our greatness. A transoceanic capital may arise across the
seas, which will throw into shade the glories of London itself; but in
the years that must intervene let it be our endeavor, let it be our
task, to keep alight the torch of Imperial patriotism, to hold fast
the affection and the confidence of our kinsmen across the seas, that
so in every vicissitude of fortune the British Empire may present an
unbroken front to all her foes, and may carry on even to distant ages
the glorious traditions of the British flag. It is because I believe
that the Royal Colonial Institute is contributing to this result that
with all sincerity I propose the toast of the evening.