As for the sugar duties, we do not by any means believe that this is a final settlement of the question. If free trade, indeed, should continue to progress, there is not much hope for the colonists; but, to the observant eye, there are unmistakeable symptoms of reaction apparent in this country, and a very general sympathy for the case of the West Indians. Our greatest fear is, that irretrievable mischief will be wrought before there is an opportunity of applying a remedy. It seems cruel mockery, after all that has happened, to exhort the planters to persevere, and to prevent those valuable islands from lapsing into a state of wilderness: and yet there seems no alternative between such perseverance and abandonment. This only we can say, that should the commercial principles, which we have advocated throughout, be again recognised and adopted—should true and not hollow Conservatism once more triumph over Whig effrontery and weakness, this mighty grievance will assuredly be the earliest redressed.
Referring again to the speech from the throne as the text for the parliamentary campaign, we find the Navigation Laws specially marked out either for modification or repeal. This subject having been fully dealt with in our July Number, we offer no further remarks upon the policy which dictated such a plan; indeed, no remarks are necessary, for since then the measure has been postponed. This is a sorry result for ministers; for although they plead, in justification, that other important business had prevented them from forcing on the consideration of this very serious question, their protestations do not seem to satisfy the gentlemen who are most clamorous against the shipping interest of Britain. It has been more than hinted in certain quarters, that this postponement is a small stroke of Whig policy or prudence, for the purpose of keeping alive as long as possible a theme of dissension among the Conservatives. We offer no opinion as to this conjecture, which may be substantially true or not. Certain it is that the proposal for the repeal of those laws has been encountered, outside of the House of Commons, with a storm of disapprobation; and that, if the feeling of the public, as opposed to the interests of the exporters, has any weight with the legislature, the ministerial bill will be strangled before it can receive the royal assent. So great was the anxiety displayed, that on the day after it became known in Glasgow that the bill was not to be pushed forward this session, every vessel in the Clyde was decorated with flags, in token of thankfulness for the respite. We hope that every advantage will be taken in the interval to force upon the attention of parliament the resolution of the well-affected people of this country, to maintain intact that law which has been the source of our naval supremacy, and which was declared, by no less an authority than Adam Smith, to be as wise as if it had been dictated by the most deliberate wisdom.
A considerable number of minor bills have been quietly allowed to drop. This is not matter of lamentation, for, as far as we could comprehend the principle of most of them, they were utterly worthless and uncalled for. The Bill for the Removal of the Jewish Disabilities was, we rejoice to say, thrown out in the House of Lords, the peers being of opinion that the British Legislature should continue a Christian assembly. Lord John, in the plenitude of his zeal for the Sanhedrim, gave notice of a motion for altering the form of the oaths required to be taken by each member of Parliament at his admission, and so introducing the Jew by a convenient little postern. But somehow or other, as the session progressed, the ardour of the Premier cooled, and Baron Rothschild is at present left with as little chance of adorning the benches of St Stephens as ever. Mr Joseph Hume and his party have got up a radical alliance, for the extension of the suffrage and various other organic schemes, and it was understood that Sir Joshua Walmsley was to have the honour of leading the movement. Unfortunately, however, before the day of debate had arrived, Sir Joshua had been unseated in consequence of certain acts of bribery which had taken place in connexion with the borough of Leicester, so that the purists had to march to battle under the chieftainship of the veteran of Montrose. They were beaten hollow: but at a later period of the session, the carelessness of ministers gave a temporary triumph to the same parties, resolutions in favour of the ballot having been passed by a small majority. This vote is of no importance whatever, save in so far as it demonstrates the utter helplessness of the Whigs when left to their own resources.
Whilst upon the subject of shelving, let us remark that the Scottish Registration and Marriage Bills have shared a similar fate. Of this we are devoutly glad. Not a single petition has been presented in their favour; and though no doubt the registration of births, and a stricter law of marriage, may be desirable, we think it might be quite possible to accomplish both objects, without creating a new and expensive staff of functionaries, or holding forth a prospect of entire immunity to seduction. Possibly at a later period we may take an opportunity of examining these postponed measures in detail.
Two more questions remain, and then the history of the session is ended. They are of vast importance—Ireland, and our foreign policy.
The opening of the session found Ireland in a state of agrarian outrage. Agitation was doing its work, and murder was rife on every hand. Foremost in stirring up the people, most determined in hounding them on, were the Roman Catholic priesthood; and we trust that this fact will not be forgotten by those who are now meditating to buy their silence. Individuals were openly denounced from the altar, and next day shot down by the assassin. The most seditious language was used by these cassocked traitors towards the British government; and even the higher dignitaries of their church sought to stimulate the passions of the populace by the most barefaced and impudent misrepresentation. Hear Archdeacon Laffan at Cashel, upon a Sunday, surrounded by some fifteen thousand of the peasantry, and backed by that notable worthy, Mr John O’Connell, and three other members of Parliament—“The Saxon scoundrel, with his bellyful of Irish meat, could very well afford to call his poor, honest, starving fellow-countrymen savages and assassins; but if in the victualling department John Bull suffered one-fifth of the privations to which the Tipperary men were subject, if he had courage enough, he would stand upon one side,and shoot the first man he could meet with a decent coat on his back—(Cheers.) But the Saxon had not courage to do any thing like a man; he growls out like a hungry tiger!” At the time when this expositor of the Christian doctrine was raving to his miserable flock, the following was the condition of the Established clergy. One of them, writing from King’s County, described his position—“For nearly twenty years I have been a minister of the Established Church; and during that time I have had nothing whatever to do with tithes, for my benefice is a chapelry of £90 a-year, and is paid partly out of land set apart for the purpose, and partly by the ecclesiastical commissioners of Ireland, from a fund bequeathed to small livings by Primate Boulter.” He had devoted much attention to the employment of the poor; had never shown favour or partiality to any one sect; had lived simply, and attended to his duties; had never brought an ejectment, or taken any other law proceedings, against a tenant. “What, then,” continued he, “was my surprise and horror to find an assassin lying in wait for me for three successive days; and—for this is still more horrifying—that most of the people of the neighbourhood where I live have been so far from expressing joy at the escape I have made, that they show evident disappointment at my not being shot!”
We have often marvelled what must be the impression of foreigners after reading such speeches as are usually delivered at an Irish assembly, by men who cannot plead utter ignorance in extenuation of the language they employ. They must, we presume, imagine that “the Saxon” has taken forcible possession of the whole of Ireland; that the natives are no better than serfs—unprotected by any laws, and liable to be beaten, plundered, and massacred at the pleasure of the invaders; that, on the approach of each harvest, hordes of the Saxons repair to the fertile fields of the Celt, reap them with a sickle in the one hand and a musket in the other, and then carry off the produce, without leaving a single doit in reparation. He would imagine that the women are forced, the men defrauded, and the houses pillaged at pleasure; that the Roman Catholics are hunted down like wild beasts, by armies of bloodthirsty Protestants; that the exercise of their faith is denied them; and that they are allowed no voice whatever in the national representation. Some such conception as this he must form from the harangues which have constituted the staple of Conciliation Hall for more years than we care to reckon. But what would be his amazement were he told that Ireland is governed by precisely the same laws as the sister country; that property is equally protected, and life endangered only by the brutality of the Celtic assassin; that Ireland is specially exempted from several of the taxes which press most heavily upon the industrious classes of Great Britain; that on the last occasion of famine, upwards of nine millions of public, and a vast amount of private money, was given for the support of her poor; that Roman Catholic colleges have been munificently endowed; that Ireland has her full share of representation in the imperial Parliament, and that upwards of one half of the time of the House of Commons is occupied with measures tending to the amelioration of the Irish people! If he were told all this—and it is no more than the naked truth—what would be his astonishment? And yet so it is. Ireland has persisted, and is persisting, in her course of sedition without a grievance, of murder without provocation, of black and brutal ingratitude without even the shadow of an excuse!
It is impossible to find language too strong to characterise the guilt of the individuals, lay or clerical, who have spent the better part of their mean and mischievous existence in misleading their rude and ignorant fellow-countrymen. They are the moral nuisances who have always stood in the way of Ireland’s progression and happiness. But for them, there would have been no absenteeism, no heart-burning between the landlord and the tenant. The people would gradually have learned habits of industry and providence, and instead of whooping through the country like maniacs, shouting and yelling for repeal, which if granted, would make an utter hell of Ireland, they would be tilling the ground, or usefully employed in the development of that capital which no one dare hazard at present in their mad and turbulent districts. For all these things we do not blame, but execrate O’Connell and his tribe. The grasping selfishness of that family has for the last few years been the greatest curse to Ireland; and the crimes of other and inferior agitators shrink into insignificance, compared with the moral turpitude of the men who have deliberately fattened upon their country’s ruin.
Mr John O’Connell, having previously declared his intention of dying on the floor of the House of Commons rather than permit the passing of a Coercion Bill to restrain his countrymen from murder, did in effect make his appearance in St Stephens, but by no means with a suicidal intention. One of his earliest speeches is worth preserving, as it exhibits, in a most extraordinary degree, the hereditary power of mendicancy. “If they had a reverence for human life, let them extend it to the people of Ireland. Give money. He asked for money. He heard the laughter of honourable gentlemen; but he could tell them that they ought to give money, and that it was their duty to do so. Charge them for the money if they liked, but at all events let them save the lives of the people. He did not expect to be met otherwise than with laughter; and he was bound to say that he never saw in that House one single real thought for the interest of Ireland. (Great laughter.) He begged to say, that he had made that remark hastily and hotly, but now he repeated it deliberately and coolly. Whenever the interests of Ireland came into competition with those of England, they were invariably sacrificed. And if he did ask money, had he not a right to do so? In a few nights a motion would come on, and then he would prove that they owed it!” No man certainly ever did more credit to his profession. Brought up under the most able instructor of his age in the art of begging, John O’Connell exhibited on this occasion talents of the highest order, which would have made his fortune on the highway, unless some stray traveller should have mistaken the intentions of the suppliant, and been over ready with his pistol to prevent an anticipated robbery. The vile ingratitude of this man is almost equal to his audacity. Great Britain, without the slightest hope of any return, had impoverished herself for the support of the Irish, and yet here was the whole acknowledgment! Even on the score of policy it would have been wiser for Mr O’Connell to have mitigated his tone.
The Irish Crime and Outrage Bill was introduced by ministers at an early stage of the session, with the general concurrence of all parties. No one could doubt that it was especially needed, but few were sanguine that it would suffice to cure the spirit of disaffection which was abroad. In fact, Irish agitation has been allowed to proceed to such a point, that the evil is utterly incurable. What chance is there of putting a stop to physical force demonstrations, or, in other words, to open rebellion, whilst another gang of demagogues is permitted to preach sedition under the guise of moral force, and to fill the minds of their deluded victims with every species of misrepresentation and wild hostility to Great Britain? Our system of government towards Ireland has been timid and weak, and we are now paying the penalty. Our charities have been given with far too liberal a hand. Ireland has but had to ask, in order to be relieved by the public money: and this process has been so often repeated, that what at first was an extraordinary boon, is now considered in the light of an indefeasible claim. The Irish peasant will not work, will do nothing to better his own position, because he believes that, in his hour of need, he will be supported by British alms. We wish we could believe that this scandalous and sordid spirit was confined to the peasantry alone. It is not so. A general scramble takes place on each fresh issue of bounty, and rich and poor, high and low, among the repealers, press clamorously forward for their share. Never was money more absurdly, more mischievously misapplied, than the great government grants on occasion of the famine. Had the proposals of Lord George Bentinck been agreed to, and the money given by way of loan for construction of the Irish railroads, not only would the government have held some security for repayment, or, at all events, a vested interest in the works, but a useful improvement would have been effected in the heart of the country, and a new element of civilisation introduced. But the scheme was rejected, for no other reason, we believe, than because it was suggested by a political opponent, and the millions granted by Britain have been squandered in making good roads bad, in trenching mosses, draining waste lands, and what not. The expenditure has been lost to this country, and has not had the effect of awakening the slightest spark of gratitude or respect for the quarter whence it came. Ireland must be disabused on one point. These grants are not annual, and cannot be continued. The time has come when Ireland must be put upon precisely the same footing of taxation with the sister kingdoms—she must be forced to forego pauperism, and in future to rely on her industry, and on her own resources. Ireland is at least four times as fertile in soil as Scotland, and there can be no reason whatever why she should be exempt from burdens which apply to the latter, and moreover, like a sturdy beggar, be for ever vociferous for relief.
The Crime and Outrage Bill in some degree fulfilled its purpose; for open murder and assassination, if not extinguished, were somewhat diminished throughout the winter. Still the work of sedition progressed. Old and Young Ireland, ruffians both, were at loggerheads—the older section finding a profit in the shape of the weekly rent, the younger and more conscientious one thirsting for the hour when the dogs of rebellion might be let loose. The French revolution found Ireland in this state, and no doubt aided to precipitate the crisis. The visions of mere repeal gradually faded before the more brilliant and daring aspiration of an Irish republic! France would probably sympathise with Erin; and a deputation was sent over to wait upon Lamartine, then in the zenith of his popularity, for the double purpose of ascertaining the chances of assistance, and of taking a flying lesson in the art of constructing barricades. But the members of the French Provisional Government showed no alacrity in recognising the Irish patriots, and distinctly refused to interfere. Then it became apparent, that if the Irish party were determined to rebel, they must do so without foreign aid and intervention; and on their own ground, and with their own weapons, be prepared to cope with the Saxon.
It is but fair, in justice to the unfortunate men who, since that time, have suffered for their almost incredible folly, to state that others, too crafty or pusillanimous to approach within grasp of the law, were at least equally guilty in promoting agitation after revolution had been triumphant in France. John O’Connell thus wrote from Paris a few days after Louis Philippe had been driven from his throne:—“Speak out, people of Ireland! Speak from every city—every valley—every hill—every plain!The time is come!The hour has arrived when it is our instant right! when it is England’s directest and most imperative interest that we should manage our own affairs in our own Parliament at home!” It matters not, in a moral point of view, though it might be convenient for sheltering purposes, that this note of sedition was accompanied with advice to abstain from crime and bloodshed. Such advice goes for nothing with the million, as O’Connell well knows; and, furthermore, he knows this, that of all the phantoms ever conjured up by designing rogues and mountebanks, this one of Irish repeal is the most unlikely of realisation. What, then, did the man mean by these words, “The time is come!” save to stir up the people to some demonstration, the issue of which must have been massacre and bloodshed?
We need hardly allude to the effect of those appeals upon the more hot-headed and determined of the confederates. They no longer preserved even the semblance of loyalty, but, with a daring wholly unexampled, gloried in the name of traitors. At public meetings they recommended the immediate arming of the people—descanted, in terms of gloating fondness, upon that “queen of weapons” the pike—and the only point of hesitation was the precise period of the rising—whether it ought to take place immediately, or be postponed “until French steamers were letting off their steam in Falmouth and Portsmouth.” John Mitchell, in theUnited Irishman, and his coadjutors in theNation, seconded these views in a series of the most inflammatory and villanous articles. They propounded deliberate plans for barricading the streets of Dublin; displayed the most hellish ingenuity in devising implements to be used against the troops; attempted to persuade their dupes, that, in the event of a rising, the army would be found on their side; and, in short, set every law, human and divine, at defiance. At this crisis, ministers failed to act with that decision which was clearly their duty. They should at once have suspended theHabeas CorpusAct, and arrested the whole of the leading agitators. Such a course would have struck terror into the insurgents, before, emboldened by impunity, and relying upon the want of unanimity almost sure to prevail among Irish juries, they had dragged other misled individuals into a participation of their guilt.
March, and a portion of April, passed away before ministers took courage to introduce the Crown and Government Security Bill, under which Mitchell was ultimately convicted. In the discussions which took place, Lord John Russell was evidently sorely hampered by the opinions which he had expressed when in opposition, and the manifest discrepancy of his measures with the principles of the Whiggish creed. He showed a disposition to truckle, when he came to that portion of the bill which declared that open and advised speaking, of treasonable nature, should henceforward be treated as felony, and took it merely as a temporary provision. A bolder front, at such a time, would better have become a British statesman.
Smith O’Brien and Meagher, two of the most daring leaders of the faction, were tried at Dublin in the month of May, and escaped, the jury being in neither case unanimous. These trials may be memorable in the history of the jurisprudence of Ireland, for they distinctly prove that the present system of trial is utterly unsuited for that country. Nothing could be clearer than the evidence against both parties. O’Brien had recommended the formation of an Irish brigade in the United States. Meagher’s recommendation was “up with the barricades, and invoke the god of battles.” Yet in the face of this, the jury could not agree upon their verdict. Mitchell was the first person convicted under the new Act. On the 27th of May, he was found guilty, and sentenced to fourteen years’ transportation.
No effort whatever was made, on the part of the populace, to rescue this misguided man. He had proclaimed himself a felon, and he was sent forth to undergo the punishment of his crime. But this example, stringent as it was, had no effect whatever in repressing the spirit of treason. The arming went on rapidly as before, or rather in an augmented ratio. Cargoes of muskets, and other fire-arms, were openly shipped for Dublin, and exposed for sale; their destination and use were openly admitted, and yet ministers did not seem to consider it their duty to interfere! The newspaper war continued. Fresh journals sprang up to replace theUnited Irishman, and the favourite doctrines of Mitchell were enforced with a ferocity and earnestness almost equal to his own. Clubs, after the fashion of those in Paris, were organised throughout the country: drilling began, and at length rebellion assumed a tangible shape, the confederate forces having been reviewed by Smith O’Brien at Cork. On the 21st of July, Dublin was proclaimed by the Lord Lieutenant; and immediately thereafter, and not a moment too soon, ministry were compelled to suspend theHabeas CorpusAct in Ireland.
As we are not writing a history of this most abortive rebellion, we need not follow its leaders throughout their ignominious, and even cowardly career. That a bubble, deemed so gigantic, should have burst with so miraculously small an explosion, may hereafter be a source of wonder to the chronicler; at present our only feeling should be gratitude to the Almighty that this affair has as yet been accompanied with so little loss of human life. So far, it is well; but it would be absolute madness to suppose that the spirit of rebellion has been extinguished. The Irish people have been guilty of a great crime. A large portion of them are, without any doubt, rebels in their hearts; and they must submit to be treated as such, until we are satisfied that their stubborn disposition is removed. Great credit, it seems, is now given in certain quarters to the Roman Catholic clergy, for the part they took in suppressing the late disturbances; and we anticipate an immediate burst of laudation, and perhaps a promise of reward, in return for their disinterested exertions. If to foster rebellion in every possible manner, whilst there is the least chance of its success, and to preach it down from the very moment when the cause appears obviously desperate, be an acceptable course, we freely admit the claims of the priesthood to the heartfelt gratitude of Britain: upon no other ground whatever can we see a reason for their recognition. Let any man consider seriously and impartially the history and proceedings in Ireland for the last six months, and he cannot fail, we think, to arrive at the conclusion, that clerical connivance is visible in every scene of the drama. Smith O’Brien and Mitchell, being both of them Protestants, may have raised the banner too early, and may have been sacrificed with little scruple; but we repeat, that we have no faith in that interference which comes so very late, and which, without any hyperbole, may be said to have been forced at the point of the bayonet.
As regards ministers, we think their later measures have been taken with a fair regard for the interests of the imperial crown. Much they might have done earlier; but, on the whole, we are not inclined to quarrel with their conduct. Lord John Russell, in the course of late events, has received a more wholesome lesson in the practical science of legislation than was ever vouchsafed him before. His Lordship’s eyes are now, we hope, opened to the fallacy of some of the cherished Whig propositions. He has learned that there are times when a government must have recourse to extraordinary measures, if it is sincere in its wish to maintain the integrity of the crown and the constitution: and that although the liberty of the subject, and the freedom of the press, are undoubtedly most excellent things, and capital toasts at Whig propaganda banquets, neither of them can be allowed to go so far as to achieve a violent revolution. If some slight tinge should be apparent on the cheek of the Premier as he reviews his past career, and reflects on the inconsistency of his former speeches with his present more energetic conduct, we are willing to attribute the blush to the most amiable, and certainly the most honourable of possible motives—the acknowledgment of a cherished error.
But while we accord with satisfaction this meed of praise to ministers, it is impossible to forget that the Whig party, by playing into the hands of O’Connell and his followers, have given a pernicious incentive to the agitation which has ended in the late revolt. There has been far too much coquetting and trafficking with the repealers,—far too little consideration shown for the really loyal and peaceable portion of the Irish people. Is it possible to expect that any credence will be given to the idea that the Whigs are sincere and determined in their opposition to the repeal doctrines, when a high official functionary like Sir William Somerville, Chief Secretary of State for Ireland, is found subscribing to the fund raised for defending the return of Mr Reynolds, the member for Dublin? Is it, we say, decent that a man in the position of the honourable baronet should be allowed to identify not only himself, but the government to which he belongs, with a party so diametrically opposed to the best interests of the British empire? If the Whigs are determined to put down agitation in Ireland—and put down it must be, at whatever cost—let them show their sincerity by dropping all connexion with the agitators. These are not times for truckling—least of all for party purposes and pretension.
If there is an immediate return to the old system of conciliation—if that unhappy country is to be left under the impression that Britain is bound to support her, we may look for another projected rebellion at no very distant period. Ireland must be taught to depend thoroughly upon herself. The wages of idleness must no longer be given her under any circumstances whatever. We are satisfied that the social misery of Ireland proceeds mainly from the injudicious system of eleemosynary support, to which she has been so long accustomed; for nowhere else in the known world is there a land so rich in resources, with a population so utterly improvident. An end also must be put, by the strong arm of power, to agitation of every kind. Jury trial requires remodelment; and we hope that the very first Irish measure which is introduced, will be one for assimilating the system of jury trial in criminal cases there with that which has worked so well and satisfactorily in Scotland. Let fifteen men be impanelled, and let the opinion of the majority be the verdict. This would effectually prevent those allegations about packing, which do certainly detract from the moral weight of such convictions as that of Mitchell: it would strengthen the hands of justice, and be especially useful as a further preventive of crime. The weal or the continued misery of Ireland will depend very much upon the character and complexion of the measures which may be introduced during the next session of Parliament.
The progress of the revolutions abroad has been any thing but peaceful. On the Continent, the treaty of Vienna has become a dead letter—a mere antiquated sheet of parchment, hardly to be appealed to by any of the conflicting powers. War has broken out in more than one point; and though, during the last month, there has been some prospect of compromise, it is in vain to hope that Europe will immediately subside into its former tranquillity. Hitherto, whatever may be said regarding the internal economy of France, that country has manifested no aggressive spirit. Paris, the centre-point of the volcanic eruption, has kept, and may keep for some time, the soldiery in full employment; and we are sincerely of opinion that General Cavaignac, now at the head of affairs in France, has no personal disposition to undertake a war of conquest. But the position of Germany is very peculiar, and her affairs so complicated, that we may justly feel alarm as to the issue.
We shall say little of the experiment, so rashly undertaken by a number of untried constitution craftsmen, for welding together into one indissoluble mass the political existence of the different Teutonic tribes. It is a project which, at first sight, may appear sufficiently imposing; but when we examine it more closely, it seems fraught with insuperable difficulties. To constitute a Regent for all Germany, in whose hands is to be lodged the sovereign administration of affairs, is in fact to dethrone and mediatise the whole of the reigning potentates. It may be freely conceded that a number of the smaller states might be absorbed, and their names removed from the map of Europe, without causing any disturbance of the balance of power; but, with regard to the larger ones, the case is very different. Will Austria, Prussia, Bavaria, and Saxony, submit to surrender their independence? Will the kings allow themselves to be stripped of their authority—of the power to make laws, to proclaim war and peace, and to levy and command their own armies? We do not believe it. Austria may not object at this peculiar juncture, both because she is deeply engaged in war for the recovery of Lombardy, and because the present Regent is a prince of her imperial family. Prussia can hardly be the first to dissent, because her monarch had the credit of originating the idea of German unity, under the illusion that he would be nominated as the head. But unity is not popular in Prussia, any more than it is in Bavaria, and the moment is fast approaching when this bubble also must explode. We might look upon the whole experiment with feelings of pure curiosity, were it not that incipient unity has been signalised by an act of the most flagrant aggression. We allude to the occupation of Schleswig-Holstein by the Germans.
Denmark is one of those small states in which the nationality is of the most invincible kind. Circumscribed in territorial space, the Danish people are possessed of a courage and energy which for centuries has continued undiminished; and the more powerful northern states are bound, if not by treaty, at least by the strongest ties of policy and relationship, to assist their gallant neighbours in maintaining their original position. Russia and Sweden have already declared themselves open allies of Denmark, and resolute to maintain her against the forces of Germany. The disposition of England, and, we are glad to say, of France also, tends towards the same point; and such being the case, we have great hopes that the Germans will not be mad enough to persevere in their unjustifiable course. A war in the north of Europe, in which so many great nations would be engaged, must be a hideous calamity; and Germany, if wise, should be the last country to provoke it. But, as if to complicate matters, the parliament at Frankfort have manifested an intention of embroiling themselves with Holland for one of the ceded duchies.
It is no purpose of ours to speculate upon events, and therefore we leave the Danish question without further comment. It will be extremely gratifying if, after all the demonstration which has been made, and the actual collision between the Danes and the Germans, peace can be re-established without having recourse to the armed interference of a northern confederation; and it would be still more gratifying if this desirable result should be the effect of British mediation. But, looking to the south of Europe, we cannot approve of the policy which Great Britain has since pursued, or the attitude which Lord Palmerston has chosen to assume towards a friendly foreign power.
Our readers will not have forgotten the surprise and suspicion which was excited, about a year ago, by the absence of a cabinet minister, who was understood to be perambulating Italy with a sort of roving commission. The intention may have been friendly, but the fact was both unusual and degrading, and gave rise at the time to a multitude of unpleasant suspicions. Whether Lord Minto travelled in the capacity of constitution-maker for Italy we know not; but if so, as has more than once been broadly alleged, his attempts have been utter failures. We hope it was not by his advice that Charles Albert has done his best to light up the flames of general war by that ungenerous attack upon Austria, which has ended so disastrously for himself. Baffled on every hand—after having sacrificed his army, and squandered his treasure—the King of Sardinia has been driven back into his own country, amidst the execrations of those whom he professedly came to emancipate, and without a hope left of gaining the diadem for which he had perilled so much. The papal constitution at Rome has by no means fulfilled the hopes of the liberal advocates. Pius, lately so popular, is trembling in the Vatican, and the inhabitants of the Eternal City are in as much terror as if Attila were again at its gates. We repeat that we do not know how much share British councils may have had in promoting these untoward events; but this we know, that it would have been far better if Lord Minto had remained at home. For, in the matter of Naples at least, we have chosen to take a direct part, which throws suspicion upon the tendency of our whole negotiations with the Peninsula.
Sicily has chosen to cast off its allegiance to the crown of Naples, and to elect a sovereign of its own. This is strictly a domestic contest, and one in which we had no title whatever to interfere. But mark what has taken place. No sooner was Naples—a country which has also felt the revolutionary shock—quieted by the granting of a constitution, than King Ferdinand, desirous of quelling rebellion in Sicily, is intimidated from sending his squadron for that purpose, by the appearance of a British fleet off his own territory. Against this unjustifiable demonstration the King of Naples has protested, declaring that he will hold any armed interference between himself and his subjects as tantamount to a declaration of war on the part of the British government. Lord Stanley—whose conduct throughout the session, on all questions connected with foreign or colonial affairs, has been pre-eminently distinguished for temperance, rectitude, and ability, and who has exhibited, in a remarkable degree, every qualification requisite for the leader of a great and national party—brought the whole subject before the consideration of the House of Lords: but the explanations given by Lord Lansdowne are not calculated to improve our character for good faith, whilst they may afford a ready apology to other states for any act of aggression whatever. Also, at a later period of the session, Mr D’Israeli, in one of those brilliant speeches for which he is unrivalled, again demanded explanation from the Foreign Secretary, and took occasion to comment, with sarcastic felicity, on the Minto pilgrimage to Rome. We shall presently allude to the reply which Lord Palmerston thought proper to make.
The facts of the case, as admitted by Lord Lansdowne, are shortly these:—Britain was never asked to mediate formally between the conflicting parties. The Sicilians stood in the position of rebels, victorious perhaps on their own soil, but not, on that account, released from an allegiance which had been formally recognised by Europe. They proceeded, as all insurgents do, to debate upon some form of government; and at this point, it seems, the Foreign Office thought fit to use its influence. Lord Palmerston became a party to the discussions of the revolted Sicilians, to the extent at least of advising them to select a monarchical instead of a republican form of government; with an assurance that, in that event, Britain would recognise the prince who might be elected by the people.
This is neither more nor less than a recognition of the right of revolt; and we should like to know upon what principle of the law of nations it can be defended. It is one thing to acknowledge the right of a nation to change the character of its institutions,—as for example, in the case of France, which from a monarchy has become a republic. Were we to undergo the same organic change, France, doubtless, would recognise us, and continue the same relations with us under the altered form of government. But what if France had chosen to espouse the cause of the Irish confederates? What if—supposing our troops had been defeated by a general rising, and Smith O’Brien had been proclaimed not only King of Munster, but of Ireland—General Cavaignac should have assured the rebels, that he would recognise the descendant of Brian Boru as the prince elected by the people? Would not that negotiation, that assurance, be treated by England as an open declaration of hostility,—an interference which no circumstances could palliate, and for which no explanation could suffice? We apprehend there can be no difficulty in answering the question, and yet our position with regard to Naples was precisely similar.
No official recognition of the independence of Sicily has as yet taken place. Her Britannic Majesty has accredited no ambassador to that court, nor does she know any thing more of the King of Sicily than her royal predecessor did of Theodore King of Corsica. In all Sicilian matters, as yet, this country nominally recognises the supremacy of King Ferdinand, who has in no way incurred a forfeiture. Yet at the very moment when that potentate has completed his preparations for coercing his rebel subjects, a British fleet appears off his shores, and no explanation has been vouchsafed of the reasons which have brought it there.
In answer to Lord Malmesbury, who reiterated the question originally put by Lord Stanley, “Is the fleet of Admiral Parker to interfere with any expedition which his Neapolitan Majesty may send against his subjects in Sicily?” Lord Lansdowne distinctly refused explanation. So did Lord Palmerston in answer to Mr D’Israeli; and he further added, “that it is not the practice of the government of this country to announce to parliament what the intentions of the government are.” All that we shall say upon that point is, that, even during the present session of parliament, ministers have more than once been particularly eager to parade their intentions, without even the formality of a question. Such answers are very apt to make distrustful people recollect that Naples is but a small state, and not so formidable as some others which have led the van of revolution. But even supposing that the Whig government are not prepared to go the length of violating treaties, and breaking alliances by a direct and forcible interference, this concealment is peculiarly unwise at a moment when neutrality is of the last importance. Apart from this question of Sicilian interference, no one wants to know why Admiral Parker’s fleet is there. It is not alone Lord Stanley or Mr D’Israeli whose curiosity requires to be gratified. The King of Naples believes this armament is sent with intentions hostile to him, and he has a right to know whether Britain proposes to throw an impediment betwixt him and his revolted dominions. Are ministers aware of the effect which such ambiguous answers may have upon the future policy of France? General Oudinot, we know, is at the head of a large army on the southern frontier of France, and Charles Albert has notoriously solicited assistance from that quarter. What if the French, drawing their own deduction from the fact of the fleet being there, and all explanation refused, should choose to assume that we have exceeded the bounds of neutrality, and are now coercing the King of Naples?—what if they should march an army to the support of the Piedmontese, again make Lombardy a field of battle, and throw all Europe into irretrievable confusion, by engaging in hostilities with Austria? Is that contingency so remote that we can afford to indulge in mysteries, and peril the fair fame of England’s open dealing for a paltry Palmerston intrigue?
If we contemplate seriously the whole course of our foreign policy, in so far as regards Italy, we cannot fail to be impressed with the idea that the Whigs have given undue countenance to the late insurrectionary movements. Great Britain might have come forward honourably at the commencement of the Lombardy campaign to stop the effusion of blood and the horrors of war, by the offer of a timely mediation; but no such step was taken. On the contrary, our Cabinet remained quiescent and looked on approvingly, so long as success appeared to favour the Sardinian arms: it is only after the invader has been beaten back, and driven within the frontiers of his own kingdom—after Austria has redeemed by force all her Lombard territory, that Lord Palmerston, and his new ally Cavaignac, have thought fit to tender their good offices. We may safely ask—what good purpose can be achieved by this very late intervention? Who are the parties whose quarrel is to be taken up? Mr D’Israeli put the matter well when he asked,—First, what was to be the principle of this mediation; secondly, what was to be the motive of the mediation; and thirdly, what was the end proposed to be attained by the mediation? The motive, we are assured, is the preservation of peace, and we fully subscribe to its importance; but on all other matters we are left as thoroughly in the dark as ever. Really this mystery is, to say the least of it, tantalising; and we would fain know whether Austria is the party who has taken the initiative, in securing the advice of two peace-makers like Palmerston and Cavaignac. Austria has recovered the possessions guaranteed her by the faith of the leading states of Europe, has put down insurrection, and driven back in rout and terror the invading Sardinian over his own frontier. There remains no body of her revolted subjects in a position to ask for mediation. As for Charles Albert, he is not, we presume, either King of Italy or Lord of Lombardy, neither have we heard of any other claim, save that of sympathy, which could entitle him to enter into the contest. Personally he had no wrong to avenge; but having chosen to espouse the cause of the rebels, and to encounter the risks of war, he is surely not entitled, especially after defeat, to insist upon any conditions. If Austria shall choose, of her own free will and accord, to cede possession of Lombardy, it will be a mere act of grace, which cannot be demanded from her by any state in Europe. But she is clearly entitled to dictate, and not to receive conditions; and any interference with her guaranteed and fully recovered rights, either on the part of England or of France, would be tantamount to a declaration of war.
From first to last, therefore, we condemn the course which has been pursued by the British foreign minister with reference to the affairs of Italy, as undignified, unconstitutional, and mischievous. It has naturally lowered the estimate of our character in the eyes of the Italian people, whose own fondness for intrigue does not prevent them from despising that system, when pursued on the part of a strong and powerful nation. Minto jobbing has proved an utter failure. It may not indeed have been unproductive in results, for it has materially stimulated sedition, but certainly it has not tended to the preservation of peace, or the consolidation of government in Italy.
Lord Palmerston has not been happy for the present year in his foreign relations. Some gratuitous advice to Spain, which he no doubt tendered with the best possible intentions, was ignominiously returned upon his hand; and this affront was followed up by another still more serious, for our ambassador at Madrid was dismissed. Such are the results of constant meddling with the institutions of foreign states, or prying into their domestic arrangements, and of everlastingly tendering unsolicited and unpalatable advice. We do Lord Palmerston the justice to believe, that he is the last man in the world who would brook such conduct at the hands of others. Why then will he persist in acting the part of Mentor to all the states of Europe, at the risk of attracting insult to himself, and of materially endangering the character and position of his country?
Whether we regard the conduct of the present ministry at home or abroad, in domestic or in foreign relations, we find little to praise, and much which we must conscientiously condemn. Late events do not seem to have conveyed to them any important lesson. Diminished exports, want of reciprocity, and the disorganisation of affairs on the Continent, have effected as yet no change in their commercial policy. They are still determined to persevere in the course which they have unfortunately adopted, and to neglect the home and colonial markets for the desperate chance of pushing exportation further. By delaying to make any provision for the relaxation of the odious Bank Restriction Acts—by placing upon the committee of the House of Commons men whose financial reputation depended upon the maintenance of these measures—they have again exposed the country to a recurrence of that crisis which, in November last, was so near a fatal termination. Who shall answer for it that a fresh drain of bullion will not take place this autumn? If the harvest shall prove deficient, such undoubtedly may be the case, and the mercantile world will be left without the means of accommodation at the moment of its utmost need.
When we look at the long period of tranquillity which this country has enjoyed since the peace—when we reflect upon the extension of trade, the increase of our colonies, the apparent accumulation of wealth at home, the development of industry, and the enormous social improvements which have resulted from the progress of science—it seems almost miraculous that any combination of circumstances should so rapidly have involved us in financial embarrassments. Those embarrassments are marked by the price of money and its fluctuations, by the difficulty of accommodation, by the unprecedented decline in the value of every kind of property, by the amount of unemployed labour in the market, and by the long list of bankruptcies. We ask for an explanation of these phenomena, and we are referred to a failure of the potato crop! The political economists will not acknowledge the share they have had in the production of such lamentable results—but, fortunately, they cannot alter dates; and one thing at least is incontestible, that the commencement of the period of decline corresponds exactly with that of Sir Robert Peel’s fiscal and currency measures. It may have been that we were previously in danger from the want of these, but the country neither knew nor felt it. The change was made, and since then our prospects have been dark and gloomy.
Parliament has utterly failed, during last session, to suggest any remedy for the general distress. It must fail so to do, until it is called together under the auspices of a Cabinet imbued with patriotic principles, aware of the responsibility of their situation, and thoroughly resolved to release themselves from the trammels of a system which has fraud and selfishness for its foundation, and which seeks to aggrandise a few at the sacrifice of the industrious many. May Heaven grant that such men may speedily be called to the supreme councils of the nation, and that this may be the last session, the futilities of which it is our duty to record, under the imbecile and slovenly administration of the Whigs!