c THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Astray shots. BY SIR EDWARD SULLIVAN, BART. AUTHOR OF 'FREE TRADE BUBBLES' 'PROTECTION TO NATIVE INDUSTRY' 'HAPPY ENGLAND' 'THE FROTH AND THE DKEGS ' 'OUR ECONOMIC CATOS' ETC. SECOND SERIES. London: PUBLISHED BY JOHN DAVIS, at 24, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.G. 1888. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 0CT.1W0 ACS' CONTENTS. No. AARON'S ROD VIII. A "BALLON D'ESSAI" IX. AFFAIRS DES FEMMES XL. AN IMPOSSIBILITY XXXVIII. A REMARKABLE SPEECH XXXV. A RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN VII. AT THE FEET OF GAMALIEL XV. BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY XXXII. CONJURING XXIII. DRIFTING XXIV. ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY XIII. GLADSTONISM III. HAWARDEN SURPRISES XII. >. HODGE AND THE SQUIRE V. j HORS LIGNE XXVII. fa IN AND OUT ORDER AND DISORDER XXXIII. INSPIRATION XXXVI. g MR. SPEAKER I XVIII. 52 MY AWFUL DAD X. cc PANIC XLI. "* PARTY GOVERNMENT XLII. UJ PLAYING WITH FIRE XIV. PLAYING WITH FIRE XXVI. 53 PRIDE OF RACE II. Ei= THE CANDID FRIEND XX. 2: THE GOSPEL OF MURDER XXV. =c THE HORN OF ASTOLPHO VI. THE LETTER XVII. THE MARQUIS BLUE-BOTTLE XXXIX. THE OLD COPY BOOK AND THE NEW XIX. THE POLITICAL BAR-SINISTER XI. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN XXXI. THE RAIL SPLITTER AND THE WORD SPLITTER XXXVII. THE WEAK-KNEES IV. TOOTH DRAWING XXVIII. TROP DE ZELE XXII. TURNCOATS XVI. UNCLE SAM TO JOHN BULL XXXIV. WHAT IS REVOLUTION ? No. 1 XXIX. WHAT IS REVOLUTION ? No. 2 ." XXX. WHITE-WASHING XXI. WHO KILLED CHARLES GORDON ? I. 402142 No. I. WHO KILLED CHARLES GORDON? WHO killed Charles Gordon ? I, said the Nation, With my vacillation, I killed Charles Gordon. Who saw him die ? No friendly eye ; Only his enemy, He saw him die. Who caught his blood ? I, said the dog ; Dog of a Christian ! I lick'd his blood. Who made his shroud ? Spurned by the crowd, None made his shroud : Honour's his shroud. Who'll be chief mourner ? I, said Saint George, Champion of England, I'll be chief mourner. Who'll be the parson ? I, said Hypocrisy, With " exub'rant verbosity," I'll be the parson. Who'll dig his grave ? I, said the slave, He died me to save ; I'll dig his grave. Who carried him to his grave ? So noble, so brave ; Deserted betrayed, None carried him to his grave. Who'll sing a Psalm ? I, replied Fame, Crimson'd with shame, I'll sing a Psalm. Who'll toll the bell ? I, said John Bull ; Because my heart 's full. So brave Gordon, farewell ! No. II. PRIDE OF RACE. " T F I were not a Frenchman, I should wish to he an English- man," said a French Minister, with a complimentary how, to an English Minister. " If I were not an Englishman, I should wish to be one," was the blunt reply. Here spoke the pride of race, the proud feeling of superiority, the conviction that England was the greatest nation in the world ; that her mission, her motives, her policy were for the good of civilization and of mankind. Pride of race has been the birthright of Englishmen for 300 years, handed down from father to son as a priceless heirloom. For the time it is gone, vanished out of sight. If any of the mighty dead Chatham, Pitt, Canning, Palmerston, Russell, or even peace-loving Aberdeen were to revisit the House of Commons, they would scarcely recognise the English breed. They would see defeat, disgrace, humiliation to our arms and our diplomacy, condoned without a murmur, treated with absolute apathy and indifference. They would see a class to whom the glory of the British Empire is a distasteful theme, who look upon it rather as an incubus to be got rid of, who shudder at the strains of ,l Rule Britannia," as Mephistopheles shudders at the church bells ! They would find the age of patriotism dead, and in its place an age of sophisters, economists, and calculators. If they should inquire what has caused this great wreck of national pride, they will learn that during his Midlothian campaign Mr. Gladstone and his followers set themselves to undo everything that Lord Beaconsfield had done. whether it was working well for the country or not ; every stone of the edifice he erected with so much care and forethought was to be destroyed, not because it was working badly for the country, but because it was the work of Lord Beaconsfield. By exaggeration, by inaccuracies, by passion, by insinuation, Mr. Gladstone so distorted the aspect of the Imperial policy of Lord Beaconsfield that the people began to believe that the Empire was a curse rather than a blessing to them ; that it existed for the benefit of the rich alone at the expense of the poor ; that it was a Tory institution, in which the rest of the community had no share. It is this feeling that has caused the present alarming apathy on all national matters. But this feeling cannot last. A nation cannot change its skin like a snake. It cannot be completely transformed in two years. It may be confused and bewildered by sonorous verbosity, by mock sermons on humanity and national humility, and fancy it has got rid of the old Adam, but it has not. As sure as the sun rises, England will soon awake again, and the awakening may be dangerous. Spite of the new promises made by our Radical god- fathers at our Midlothian baptism, the English race will always hear with pride the stories of Plassy and Assaye, of Waterloo and Trafalgar ; the name of Clive and Hastings, of Howe and Jervis, PRIDE OF RACE. of Collingwood and Nelson, and others, " feared for their breed, and famous for their birth," who have made the name of England ring throughout the world, will still be household words ; and Englishmen will still make pilgrimages to the Abbey to gaze on the effigy of England's greatest War Minister, that '' seems still with eagle face and outstretched arm to bid England be of good cheer and hurl defiance at her foes." More than ever they will tell their children of the gallant deeds of the warriors of their race " How Horatius kept the bridge In the brave days of old."' The British Jingo owes his existence to the British " Nihilist.'' Jingoism, Chauvinism, Nationalism, Patriotism, call it what you will, is the national protest against Nihilism, against incivism, against Gladstonism, in fact, against the cry of perish India, perish British interests, against the clap-trap of St. James's Hall, against those who rail at the over-burdened Empire of England, who denounce her colonies as encumbrances, who are resigned to her decadence. It is a protest against the spirit that dictated " kin over sea," against the spirit of national defamation than can never sufficiently foul its own nest, that proclaims no conduct too base, too cowardly, for British statesmen, no statements too false, no reports too exaggerated for British officials ; that sees in the monstrous ambition of Russia, in the despotism of a military oligarchy, a holy mission ! It is a protest against the spirit that would keep the flag of England half mast, and hoist in its place the spurious flag of cosmopolitanism. It is, in fact, the natural rebound of the pendulum of English pride against those who have pulled it over too much the other way. It may seem to many foolish, but there is nothing to be ashamed of in it; it is natural to the English breed, it is the spirit that animated Cromwell, Chatham, Pitt, Palmerston, Russell; it is the spirit that, please God, will always find expression when the effacement of England is advo- cated. Certainly there will be a reaction, a violent oscillation of the pendulum. May it come soon ; it cannot come too soon. When the reaction comes, it will come from the country, not from the House of Commons. In the present House of Commons there will be no reaction. The constituencies sent members to Parliament to support Mr. Gladstone, for no other object, and support him they will to the bitter end. So long as the present Parliament lasts Mr. Gladstone, sur- rounded by flatterers, will, " Like Cato, give his docile Senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause. - ' But the House of Commons is not England. The time will come when the members will have to give an account of their stewardship. Then the constituencies will say to them, "It is true we sent you to Parliament to support Mr. Gladstone, because he told us, and you told us, that Lord Beaconsfield was ruining England, and that only Mr. Gladstone could save it. But we find now, after two years' trial, that it is Mr. Gladstone that is ruining England. We see Ireland in almost open revolt, our European I'RIDK OF RACE. influence gone, our Eastern Empire threatened, our officers insulted and killed in time of peace, &c. We sent you to Parliament in order to assist Mr. Gladstone to save the Empire, not to assist him to reduce it to a fifth-rate power." The foreign policy of Lord Beaconsfield was the hereditary foreign policy of Great Britain. It was natural, and national, and straightforward. It was dictated by the requirements of the British Empire. Nobody objected to- this policy. France, Germany, Austria, and Italy thought it reasonable, and approved of it. But the foreign policy of Mr. Gladstone is the very reverse of the hereditary foreign policy of England. It is not national in any sense. It is personal personal to Mr. Gladstone, and to him alone. It is originated and directed by influences of which nobody can guess the sources. Mr. Glad- stone hates the Austrians, and hates the Turks (and, it is whispered, is not over fond of Prince Bismarck) ; but why he hates the Austrians, and why he hates the Turks, nobody knows. What, alas ! we do know is. that this hatred of his, outspoken and demon- strative, has converted two of our oldest and most trustworthy allies into scarcely covert enemies. Every sense of national duty should have induced Mr. Gladstone to control his hatred to the Turk ; to check any violence of language or action that could con- vert into an enemy the spiritual suzerain of 40,000,000 of our fellow-subjects. We have heard of great men sacrificing them- selves for the good of their country ; it really looks as if in his treatment of Austria and Turkey Mr. Gladstone has not hesitated to sacrifice the interests of his country for his own pleasure. Mr- Gladstone is a great humanitarian, but the humanity that is effusive about Italians and Bulgars, and draws a line at the suffer- ings of Turks and Jews, that passes over without notice the treacherous slaughter of British troops, and to avoid " blood- guiltiness " hands over 900,000 natives to the tender mercies of the Boers this is only " electioneering " humanity after all, humanity snatched up as a rapier to pierce your enemy with. " Lucius. His enemies confess The virtues of humanity are Cajsar's. Ccito. Curse on his virtues ! They've undone his country, Such popular humanity is treason." Do not let us deceive ourselves. The same national spirit, the same qualities of heart and hand that built up the British Empire are necessary to support it. It was built up by deeds, and " deeds are the sons of Heaven."' It can never be saved by words, how- ever copious, which are the ;i daughters of the earth."' " Be bolde, be bolde, and everywhere be bolde," was the motto of our Eliza- bethan ancestors, and it is that has made us what we are. If we cease to be bold, if we are no longer ready, even eager, to " fight for our own hand," our kingdom will not and cannot stand. It is certain that England must, at all times, boldly and deter- minately maintain her own rights and interests, peaceably if she can, forcibly if she cannot. " I give you a toast," said Stephen Decatur, speaking in Norfolk, in 1816, " Our country ! in her inter- course with foreign nations, may she always be in the right ; but our country, right or wrong." 1884. No. III. GLADSTONISM. TF a public company that had attained great credit, wealth, con- fidence, and respect, by following- for a hundred years certain lines of moral and commercial policy, was suddenly to reverse this policy absolutely and entirely, ab ovo usque ad malum, simply because a new chairman and board of directors entertained a personal dislike for their predecessors in office, should we not look out for a smash ? Should we not say the directors were throwing away a fine business and doing very badly for their shareholders ? Well, this is exactly what is happening, or rather what has happened, with the Great British Empire Company (Unlimited). Under the chairmanship of Chatham, Pitt, Grey, Peel, Russell, Palmerston, and Beaconsfield, the British Empire (Unlimited) has attained extraordinary credit, wealth, confidence, and respect, by following certain fixed, and straightforward, and well-understood lines of foreign and Imperial policy, by championing British interests openly and boldly, by speaking in the " Scythian phrase,*' by calling a spade a spade, in fact. Well, Gladstonism has entirely reversed this policy : it minimises British interests, it discards the " Scythian phrase," and insists on calling what everyone in his senses sees and knows to be a spade, and nothing but a spade, by some other name. It is seriously maintained by many honourable men that Gladstonism is so noble, so grand, so cosmopolitan, so self-denying, so inexpressibly superior to any former or existing political gospel, that it is sheer blasphemy to decry it. But this is childish. If many other equally honour- able men believe that this new gospel has emasculated the national character, watered down its noblest qualities, that it is rapidly reducingtheir country to the position of a subject Power; that it is destroying before their eyes everything they most venerate and love ; that it has made the name of England a byword for folly, for indecision, for hypocrisy, and now, indeed, for bloodguiltiness, are they not to say so ? Gladstonism is a policy of noble senti- ments, of superfine professions, of exalted motives, of plausible platitudes ; it appeals to the ear alone, it professes to believe that the world is better than it is, and that we are better than the world. Of course this is all nonsense, sham, hypocrisy. It is self-illusion in the most fatal form that can ever affect a nation the power of seeing things as you wish them to be. not as they are. Glad- stonism has made Britannia appear before the world as a hypocrite. Together lie her prayer-book and her paint, At once t' improve the sinner and the saint. "Look," cries Gladstonism, with affected piety, "look at our prayer-book.'' ' Yes," replies the world, " but look at your paint." " It is so hard," whines Gladstonism to incredulous Europe, *' that you will not believe we are the one unselfish nation in the world ; GLADSTONISM. that in spite of all our assurances you will still assume we had selfish motives in going to Egypt, Indeed we had not. It is so distressing to men actuated by such noble motives as we are to be doubted. We destroyed the forts of Alexandria, we burnt the city, we slaughtered Egyptians at Tel-el-Kebir, Arabs at Teb and Tamanieb, we have made the land smell of blood, and have raised up a spirit of most bitter animosity against us in Egypt, not in our own interest in any way, but for the sake of Egypt, of Europe, of civilisation, of humanity. Is not this noble? Is not this grand ? Can we give a greater proof of our disinterestedness ?" Glad- stonism professes to sink all national feeling, to mistrust national sympathies, to prefer treaties written on the " fleshly tablets of the heart " to those written on parchment, to appeal to the verdicf of civilized mankind, &c, and a deal more similar nonsense. Well, we have appealed to the verdict of civilised mankind about Egypt, and what is it ? Simply that we are a nation of fools ; that the British lion, like the very gentle beast of Snug the joiner, is " a very fox for his valour, and a goose for his discretion." I declare, when I read the magnificent sentiments of Gladstonism, compare the motives it professes with the acts it performs, reduce to plain English all the sound and sonorous verbosity that preludes and accompanies its every act of legislation, when I mark the unbounded arrogance of the humble, the Old Bailey quibbles of the con- scientious, the wastefulness of the economist, the bloodguiltiness of the humanitarian, the incivism of the patriot, the illiberality of the Eiberal, I begin to sicken at the very name of virtue. " Le bon marechal Louvois etait toutes les vertus memes, mais peu rejouis- santes, et avec peu d'esprit; apres une longue visite, Ninon d'Enclos bailie, le regarde, puis s"ecrie : ' Seigneur ! que de vertus vous me faites hair !' " " Clericalism is the enemy," cried Gambetta. " Gladstonism is the enemy," cry most Englishmen who are out of the party traces. It is Gladstonism that will bring the mighty Empire of Great Britain to ruin. There is no danger in Radicalism, Imperialism, Republicanism, Socialism, Nihilism even. Italy, France, Germany, Russia show us that each and all of these are compatible with patriotism, with pride of race, with the permanence of empire. Gladstonism is not. It is vestryism and methodism in national affairs. It denounces patriotism, ;t sneers at pride of race, it accepts defeat, it condones disgrace, it ignores an Imperial policy, it is absolutely inconsistent with the permanence of empire. "Virtus post nummos " is its motto. Get money, money still, And then let virtue follow if she will. Bah ! go to your consols, to your counters ; that is your business. What have you to do with Imperial interests, with Imperial duties, with honour, glory ? What have you to do with generosity, with liberality, with science ? A tradesman thou, and hope to go to heaven ! But, indeed, is it really money only that has made England what she is ? Not a bit of it. It is not the bankers, the brokers, the manufacturers who have made the great name and honour and GLADSTONISM. plain words, the incessant employment of language to conceal the truth; it is the perpetual hair-splitting and torturing of words, childish distinctions between " beleaguered " and " surrounded,"' between " wars " and " military operations," between a " prohibi- tory '* telegram and a " dissuasive " one that are more suited to Some peaceful province in Acrostic Land, Where they might wings display and altars raise, And torture one poor word a thousand ways, than to the vocabulary of statesmen ! The Northern half of America said to her wayward sister, "You shall not go ; you shall not break up the grandeur of the Empire." Gladstonism said to Ireland at Kilmainham, and says it to her again now, "Do as we tell you, and you shall go ; you shall break up the Empire. There is a thing that is much more odious to us than Repeal, than Disunion, than severing the ties between Great Britain and Ireland, and that is Imperialism, Toryism, Conser- vatism ; only help us to crush out this pest, and you may have what you like even to half the kingdom !" Gladstonism has no vigour, no backbone. It knows no hard- and-fast line between order and disorder ; between what is within the Constitution and what is without it, between national dignity and national humility; between common sense and sentimental nonsense ; there is nothing in it to rouse the pride of our race ; the refrain of " Civis Romanus sum " jangles on its ears as the church bells do on those of Mephistopheles ; it is unnational, humble, undecided, squeezable, and above all things it is apologetic ; it apologises for anything and to anybody ; it apologises to the peace enthusiasts for maintaining a sufficient army and navy to keep oft invasion ; to the Dissenters for maintaining an Established Church ; to the Democrats for maintaining a House of Lords ; to Repub- licanism for preserving the Throne ; to Mr. Parnell for maintaining the Union ; to the Baboos of Calcutta for retaining India ; to the Boors for remaining in South Africa; to Mr. Stansfeld for the Con- tagious Diseases Act; to Mr. Hopwood for the Vaccination Act ; and soon, apparently, it is going to apologise to Europe for the ruin of Egypt and to pay the bill. 1884. No. IV. THE WEAK-KNEES. THE " weak-knees : ' are a large family. They represent the moderate opinions of the educated minority of the country, .and a very considerable portion of its wealth ; their heads and pockets are all right, but their knees are weak. I don't suppose the 4i weak-knees " will ever govern the country (though, God knows, we are now apparently governed by those who have no knees at all ! ), but if those who call themselves Whigs and those who call them- selves Conservatives would only agree occasionally to put the drag on they could check the dangerous pace of the coach. But they will not. Directly one tries to put on the drag the other begins to flog the horses ; of course the coach goes faster ! Instead of the two weak bodies combining to make one strong one they prefer to weaken each other still more by fighting. We know what happened to the frog and the mouse when they took it into their heads to fight the kite eat them both up. In the present crisis the attitude of Whigs and Conservatives towards each other is astounding : it really looks as if their heads were as weak as their knees. A candidate advocates the confiscation of the land and its division amongst the labourers, and Whig landowners wring their hands in despair and their weak knees shake ; but the opposing candidate is a Conservative, .and Weak-knees actually cries out, " Not this man but Barabbas.'' It is astonishing. Nothing will attract public attention to the absolute extinction of the Whig party as a power in the State so much as the reception given to Lord Grey's letter of the 26th ult. Here is the foremost Whig in England, the most distinguished, the most consistent, the most honourable, accusing the Prime Minister of deliberate misrepresentation, and his accusation does not attract even a passing notice. Whigs are those unfortunate Liberals whom an unkind Providence has endowed with a knowledge of good and evil, right and wrong, honour and dishonour, and a few trifles of that kind, very subversive of party discipline, and if they venture to criticise the acts of the great apostle of Radicalism they are immediately, like Adam and Eve, driven out of the Liberal Paradise into the limbo of the weak-kneed. But though naked they need not be ashamed. Palmerston, Russell, Clarendon, Cornewall Lewis would keep them company if they were alive. It is sad to witness the dependent and deprecatory role of this once independent .and militant party. How are the mighty fallen ! " Quantum mutatur ab illo."' How changed are the Whigs of to-day, without leaders, trembling at the little finger of the Caucus, gulping down their principles with a ghastly grin, from the sanguine, confident Whigs who, 15 years ago, marched to victory under the famous banner Free speech, free thought, free votes. Poor fellows, their .antecedents are all that remain to them. They have a past, but certainly no present, except dragging the triumphal car of their THE WEAK-KNEES. conqueror; and evidently no future. They hesitate like Hercules between Vice and Virtue, or, rather, like a jackass between two bundles of hay ; they can't quite harden their hearts to sacrifice their country to their part}', or their party to their country ; and, of course, as is usually the case, they sacrifice both. Alternately, " they roar like bears and mourn like doves ; " the}' swagger as robust Radicals in public, and wring their hands as weak-kneed Whigs in private ! But, pitiable as is their case, the}' are not alone in their misery weak knees are by no means confined to the Old Whigs. They are almost as common in the ranks of the Conservatives. In fact it is difficult to say in which party political timidity most prevails. /Esop tells us that the hares being very miserable, by a common consent went to the river to drown themselves, but when they got there they met a company of frogs more fearful than they were, and so they took courage and comfort again. At one moment the Whigs are deterred from self-destruction by the greater misery of the Conservatives ; at another the Conservatives are deterred by the greater misery of the Whigs. Poor Whigs ! Poor Conservatives ! They will soon be numbered with the Lost Tribes. Their fate reads like a Greek tragedy. They have actually fallen victims to the unnatural cruelty of their own parents. Medea like, Lord Hartington led his W T hig children into the Radical den ; whilst Sir Stafford Xorthcote compassed the destruction of his offspring by not leading them at all ! Just now party warfare rages round Mr. Gladstone ; the country is divided into two camps those who worship and those who denounce him. The argumentum ad hominem is very monotonous and very unsatisfactory : but how can it be avoided when his worshippers insist on attributing every act of his Government, bad or indifferent, to him alone ? He is what Jack calls a G.C.B., gunner, carpenter, and boatswain in one; he does everything, or does nothing, or undoes everything everyone else does. The attacks on Mr. Gladstone are intolerable, say his supporters ; but if the attacks of his enemies are intolerable, what are we to say to the attacks of his friends ? It is the old story. No man is a hero to his valet de chambre, and it is because his old friends and colleagues know him so well, I suppose, that they are so severe upon him. " Mr. Gladstone will ruin England," &c, &c, said his old friend and colleague, Lord Palmerston, thirty years ago. " Gladstone, my old friend and colleague, will bring to ruin every- thing we now venerate and love in England," said Sir James Graham a few days before his death. " Mr. Gladstone's foreign policy has lowered the British name and tarnished British honour," wrote his old friend and colleague, Lord Russell, shortly before his death. What would he have said if he could have seen the ruin and disgrace that now attends his foreign policy ? And now his old friend and colleague, Lord Grey, distinctly charges him with what is either the " fabula " or " lie direct ; "' or the " fabulosa narratio," or " simple fib." Certainly Mr. Gladstone has cause to exclaim, li Save me from my friends." There is no accounting for taste. What is lovely in one man's eyes is hideous in another's. " If you could only see with my eyes you would see she is lovely," exclaimed the ardent lover of a very plain headed mistress. Love, political or THE WEAK-KNEES. physical, will turn a frog into a goddess, as the poet tells us. " Quisquis amat ranam, ranam putat esse Dianam."' " Demandez a ce crapaud," says Voltaire, " ce que c'est la beaute il vous repondra que c'est sa crapaude : " and so robust Radicals, " Pro Junone nubem." embrace a cloud for Juno, worship verbosity for wisdom, and see in Mr. Gladstone the very beauty of political holiness." " You would treat Mr. Gladstone as the Athenians treated Aristides," say the Radicals. " You would ostracise him because you are tired of hearing him called ' the Just." He is too good for you ! " But our old friend Cornelius Nepos gives the story quite another turn. " Why do you wish to ostracise Aristides ? " inquired Aristides of the man who asked him to scratch his name on the oyster shell. " Because he takes so much trouble to be called the Just," was the reply ; so this illiterate citizen, who apparently had not attended his Board School, was not simply a fool, or a mere hater of virtue ! It is not only in Athens that there is a desire to ostracise those who take too much trouble to be called the just, or the pious, or the humane. " Lord Beaconsfield will ruin the Empire,'" said Mr. Gladstone five years ago, "turn him out,"' and the country turned him out. "Mr. Gladstone is ruining the country" now say all sensible men, "turn him out." But "No" is the reply of those who are not sensible men, " we will not turn him out ; very likely he is ruining the country indeed, we think he is but we prefer to be ruined by him to giving a blank cheque to you." And so the game goes on. Party counts for everything ; country for nothing at all. England is not in the position she was live years ago. One side says she has gone up like a rocket, the other that she is come down like a stick ; but both sides agree on one thing, that whether she has gone up or whether she has come clown it is the work of one man, and one man only. " Five years more of Mr, Gladstone's foreign and Imperial policy will," say the Radicals, " place England on the highest pinnacle of prosperity and virtue it is possible for any nation to attain." " Five years more of Mr. Gladstone's foreign and Imperial policy,"' reply most people with two eyes in their heads, " and all that will remain of the British Empire will be a mere nominis umbra, the shadow of a great past." Compare the promises of Midlothian with the results. Then we heard of " Happy England," the " Fleshly tablets of the heart." Peace on earth, goodwill towards men. Ambrosia was not sweeter and what is it now? Bloodshed, red ruin, broken faith, dishonour a policy without shame and without pride. Black hellebore is not so bitter. "Nonsense," say the Radicals, "England won't be ruined because she loses her empire. Thank God we have completely educated the people out of that Jingo notion. They are beginning to understand that the British Empire is an empire of fraud and force, and that in many ways they will be better without it. As for what other nations think of us. let them mind their own business we don't care twopence what they think let those laugh who win." F.xactlv ! but we are asked to laugh who lose. 1885. No. V. HODGE AND THE SQUIRE. HODGE has got the vote and has plumped against the squire. This is the burning question of the day Does the squire realise the significance of the incident ? " Hodge is a fool," he says ; " he has listened to designing persons."' " Not such a fool as you think," says Hodge, with a wink ; " I listen to those who promise to improve my condition. Isn't it very natural ? I will vote for you if you will talk to me in the same way." Hodge has plumped against the squire because he has no sympathy with him, and believes the want of sympathy is mutual probably it is. " You have had your turn," says Hodge, " and you have taken precious little interest in me, probably less than you have taken in your pheasants and hares, and now it is my turn, and I am inclined to take precious little interest in you. The voice of the 'carpet-bagger' is more attractive to me than yours ; he pledges himself to do some- thing for me, you pledge yourself to do nothing. I should, indeed, actually be the fool you take me for if I plumped for you against him." This appears reasonable. In 19 cases out of 20 Hodge only knows the squire on the bench, when he fines him 10s. for killing his hares, or in the shooting season, when he gives him 2s. for beating his coverts. This is not good enough to induce Hodge to vote for the squire. Few intelligent agricultural labourers really believe in the actual " cow and three acres," but they take it as an earnest of the intentions of the Radicals to do something for them. They are under the impression that the Radicals wish to improve their condition, and that the Tories wish to keep them as they are. Very possibly they are wrong ; but that is their impression, and many impressions often cause sinister results. The responsibility of restoring the entente cordiale, or of creating it, rests with the squire, and it will not be an easy task. Hodge, though slow, is cunning. He is a wary bird ; he is not to be caught with chaff unless he thinks there is some grain mixed with it. He is beginning to realise the immense difference the franchise has made in his position. He has no longer to pull his forelock to the squire if he wants some small favour ; the squire has to go to him, hat in hand, to ask him for his vote. He is now in a position to make terms with the squire. " Scratch me," he says, in his homely but expressive language, "and I'll scratch you ; but I won't scratch you if you won't scratch me." Hitherto the squire has had no direct interest in scratching Hodge now he has a very direct one indeed. His whole political future is in Hodge's hands. Hodge can send him to Westminster as a knight of the shire, or he can outvote him and send the " carpet-bagger " in his place. Now, I think it cannot be denied that the squire is far more responsible for their present strained relations than Hodge. Hitherto Hodge has never been in a position to do the squire a service, perhaps if he had HODGE AND THE SQUIRE. been he might have neglected the opportunity. That is possible,, but he can claim the benefit of the doubt. On the other hand, the doubt will not assist the squire. He has been in a position to do- Hodge many services, and he has neglected the opportunity an effort of self-denial, no doubt, but a fact nevertheless. Unfortunately squires, like virgins, vary in intelligence ; some are wise, some are foolish. Virgins seem to be better off in this article than squires,, for amongst them the wise and the foolish are equally divided, whereas amongst squires the foolish certainly predominate. Take the u cow and three acres," the " quadruped and the tri jugera," for instance. Every wise squire and every intelligent Hodge knows, that in this climate, and with our soil and existing agricultural values, it is. impossible ; but if it is impossible, why should the squire stick himself like a lion in the path to oppose it ? especially as he must have known his opposition was needless. A live lion that can roar and lash his tail, might keep the path, but a live lion stuffed with straw would go over at the first kick, and that unfortunately was the position of the squire at the last election. The foolish squire said " The cow and three acres is a sham, and I will never be a party to imposing a sham on Hodge. I love him too- much. I will stand like a lion in the path." Foolish squire ! The cow " went for " him, like the donkey at the Aquarium, and knocked him over. On the other hand, the wise squire says : " This three acres and a cow is a sham ; but it amuses Hodge, and it can't hurt me, and if it leads to any improvement in Hodge's condition I shall be very glad. How can I expect Hodge to vote for me if I deliberately vote against him ?" If the advice of the wise squires had prevailed, if they had supported the principle of the " cow and three acres," or if they had proposed some alternative scheme, they would have got Hodge's vote. They would have taken the wind out of the carpet-bagger's sails and dropped them astern. Unfor- tunately, the wise squires were in the minority, and Hodge's vote was lost. It is ridiculous for the squire now to turn round on Hodge and accuse him of ingratitude for voting against him. Hodge is not a bit more ungrateful than his neighbours. Like his neighbours he looks to see on which side his bread is buttered. As he finds the carpet-bagger has put lots of butter on one side, and the squire has put none at all on the other, he naturally prefers the former. Never was there such a complete transfer of political power ; never was there such a leap into the dark. The land- owners had 'some knowledge and experience. The tenants had also- some knowledge and experience ; but the labourers had no know- ledge and experience, or at least very little ; and, therefore, our wise men have taken all power from the landowners and tenants, and given it absolutely to the labourers. Whether it is wise, or just, or fair on the community to disfranchise knowledge in favour of ignorance, whether it is wise or just or suicidal, it is too late now to inquire actum est. Right or wrong, it is an accomplished fact. The good of the country has never been the question ; it has been solely and entirely a question of party tactics. Feeble-kneed Whigs and rampant Radicals combined to disfranchise the landowners and tenants in order to dish the Conservatives and get office. And they HODGE AND THE SQUIRE. have succeeded. But now comes the Nemesis. The " feeble knees," who only wished to dish the Conservatives, now find to their dismay they have dished themselves also. " Good God." they say, " we only intended our agricultural Orson to club the Tories, and now he is beginning to club us also." " Yes, indeed,' says the triumphant Radical, " of course he will. We knew this long ago, and were only afraid you would find it out before you were com- mitted too far. How you were such fools as not to see it we can't understand. However, it is all right now. You, my dear credulous Weak Knees, have very kindly taken the chestnuts out of the fire for us, and now we have no further use for you. May the devil have you in his good keeping." Silly Whigs ! What is the use of bleating now ? it only excites ridicule. As you placed yourselves in the hands of the shearer you had better be dumb. But to return to our muttons, or to our friend and Master Hodge. The squire has to recover Hodge's vote from the carpet-bagger. He has to prove to him that " Codling's his friend, not Short." How is he to do it? It is certain he can do it if he sets about it the right way. Owning the land, living in his midst, more or less understanding his wants, he has it in his power to be fifty times more useful to Hodge than the carpet-bagger who lives in London, or Manchester, or Liverpool, can ever be. But he will have to take some time and trouble about it, and put his pride in his pocket. But he must do it. It is of no use his becoming suddenly effusive, holding out both hands, and saying, " Welcome, dear Hodge, to the franchise. I have always tried to give you the vote, and now that I have succeeded in doing so, I hope you will give it to me." Hodge will again have recourse to his agricultural vocabulary, and mutter " Gammon." But if he says to him, "Good Hodge, I never thought you fit for the franchise, and so I never tried to give it to you ; but now you have got it I don't grudge it to you. Let us see if we cannot work together for our common good," Hodge may listen to him. Hodge is practical and does not like a prig. He wants something more substantial than good advice. What he wants is intercourse, sympathy, and generosity, the helping hand, with something in it now and then. His burdens are heavy to bear occasionally intolerable. At these times the man who assists him to bear them, whether squire or carpet-bagger, is his true friend. This is the business of the squire. He deserves no commiseration for it, but he deserves political extinction if he leaves it to the carpet-bagger. Hodge is very recognisant of kindness. It was proved beyond any doubt at the recent elections, that in every case in which the squire was resident, and in which he or his family had shown any sympathy with Hodge or his family in fact, in every case in which Hodge had come to the conclusion that the squire was his friend he plumped for him and let the carpet-bagger slide. This does not look like want of gratitude ; it looks like common sense. The recent election in the counties was the victory of the Dissenting minister and the labourer over the established minister and the squire. If, therefore, the tables are to be turned at the next election the squire must get the Dissenting minister as well as Hodge on his side. How is he to do it ? Happy thought. The Primrose League. This mighty organi- HODGE AND THE SQUIRE. sation has always been a mystery to me. I neither could under- stand its origin or comprehend its object. Now I see it all, and am in amazement at my own stupidity, and at the prescience of its founders. "Wherever any particular herb grows," says Sancho, " there is the ass to eat it." Wherever the Dissenting minister grows there must come some dainty Dame or Damoiselle of the Primrose League to nibble him up. Happy Dissenting minister ! Victorious Primrose League ! Of Sidney Smith's three sexes men, women, and parsons, it is evident that Providence intended the women to subjugate the parsons. The Dissenting minister is certainly not exactly like the minister of the Establishment ; but the difference is chiefly in exteriors. He is a parson all the same. He may be stern of aspect, but he is amenable to female influences, or he is not a parson. I feel convinced the Dissenting ministers are destined to go down before the Dames of the Primrose League. But then it is of no use the Dames purring in their own Habitations. They must become a militant body, they must attack the enemy in his stronghold. Every Dame and every Damoiselle must mark down a Dissenting minister, to whose conquest she must devote her time, and the perfection of her Siren art, with eyes, with phrases, with braces, with slippers, in the drawing-room, at the squire's table, on the lawn-tennis ground, in the school-room, in season and out of season, at his going out and his coming in they must attack their enemy. He must have no peace " Till the stern parsons, gulled by acts like these. Grow gentle, tractable, and tame as geese.'" If they do this their success is certain, they need not expect any very violent opposition ; on the contrary, I am inclined to think their enemies will rather like it. "I am only a man, or at any rate a parson," says the Dissenting minister ; " don't be afraid of me ; don't suppose I am anything very superior. Only treat me as you have treated my Established confreres, and be assured you will find me equally tractable. I have not yet tried the squire's port wine and three-year-old mutton, but I have an internal conviction that I shall like them very much when I do ; and as for worked slippers and braces they have been the dream of my life. I may be a little awkward at first at lawn-tennis, my shoes generally creak, and my tread is heavy, and insect life flies my approach, and I am quite aware that I don't look lordly without my coat and waistcoat. But who knows, fair Dames, better than you what a transformation your graceful coaching will effect ? My action will improve, I shall skip like the roe, my tread will become so elastic that even the ' azured hare-bell ' will not suffer; and perhaps, who knows, I may in time employ a London tailor." What a promise this confession opens out. And when, at the next general election, each Fair Knight shall lead to the poll a captive Dissenting minister, then, indeed, the glorious mission of the great League will be accomplished. The squire will enjoy his own again, and the carpet-bagger will be up a tree. 188*. No VI. THE HORN OF ASTOLPHO. M ERCURV was the god of Eloquence and of Deceit. To Mercury Autolycus she brought, Who turned to thefts and tricks his subtle thought : Possessed he was of all his father"s sleight. At will made white look black, and black look white. Venus, Bacchus, and Mercury, some cynic tells us, compose the Pagan Trinity that share between them the worship of civilised mankind, but, powerful as are the two former, I am inclined to think that the most powerful of all is Mercury ; for do not mankind pass the greater part of their lives in deceiving and being deceived ? To doubt the omnipotence of Eloquence is absurd, but it would be very easy, I imagine, to prove that it has brought more ill into the world than good. " L'eloquence est une espece de friponnerie," says one of the subtlest of philosophers. " C'est i'art de surprendre les hommes ; c'est une maniere delicate de les seduire." This is why some of the wisest of mankind have so mistrusted the power of "words. Pythagoras taught his followers to love " silence, retirement, and contemplation.'' When Carneades, the most eloquent man in Greece, came to Rome on an embassy, Cato, the censor, demanded that he should be immediately sent back, " because it was very difficult to discern the truth through the arguments of Carneades." He apprehended dangertothe public conscience from the wit and strength of argument with which he made " white look black and black look white ; " one day proving that justice was right, and the next day proving that justice was wrong. Moreover, the ancients understood that the talent of eloquence is seldom combined with great wisdom. Demosthenes was twenty times as eloquent as Aristotle, but Aristotle was twenty times as wise as Demosthenes. Eloquence is irresistible, omnipotent ; it even deprives its worshippers of common sense. The Athenians, we are told, would rather hear Alcibiades speak, even when he was drunk, than hear anyone else. His speeches had the effect on them of the enchanted horn of Astolpho that when it was sounded made mad all who heard it. But human nature does not change. There are hundreds of thousands in this country now who would rather hear Mr. Gladstone than anyone else, though, as Cato said, they " find it very difficult to discern the truth through his arguments," and know that he is for the most part only engaged in a dialectic delight of making " white look black and black look white." What else but the sounds of the Enchanted Horn could have compelled the people to rave as they have done during the past five years, shouting for justice one day, for injustice the next ; for war to-day, for peace to-morrow; for humanity and inhumanity; for honour and dishonour; for economy and extravagance, almost in the same breath ? THE HORN OF ASTOLPHO. It is said when lovers swear Venus laughs. I am sure that when Mr. Gladstone orates Mercury must laugh at the success that attends his duel art Eloquence and Deceit. Various and versatile as have been many of the great masters of rhetoric, or eloquence, or verbosity, or whatever it is called, none have ever approached Mr. Gladstone in the facility with which he can almost at the same moment " make white look black and black look white." He appears to be under the influence of some " Dual Control : " to be constituted like Millie-Christine, the two-headed nightingale, with two heads, two voices, two hearts, and two souls ; one soul that (we were told eight years ago) requires a good deal of looking after, and another soul that evidently is perfectly able to look after itself. The conclusion is inevitable that there are in reality two Mr- Gladstones, and it is only enchantment that makes us fancy there is only one. There is the Mr. Gladstone who reads the lessons, and the Mr. Gladstone who gives delightful dramatic breakfasts ; the Mr. Gladstone who hurries to morning service, and the Mr. Gladstone who hurries to the theatre ; the Mr. Gladstone who denounced the Bulgarian atrocities, and the Mr. Gladstone who inspired the Soudan massacres ; the Mr. Gladstone who declared in Parliament that the authority of the Crown must be asserted in the Transvaal, and the Mr. Gladstone who immediately scuttled out of the Transvaal ; the Mr. Gladstone who declared the Madhi must be smashed up at Khartoum, and the Mr. Gladstone who is now scuttling out of the Soudan : the Mr. Gladstone who ten days ago declared the book of the Penjdeh incident could not be closed without an explanation, and the Mr. Gladstone who has now apparently closed the book without any explanation at all : the Mr. Gladstone who has bit by bit pulled to pieces the foreign and Imperial policy of Lord Beaconsfield, and the Mr. Gladstone who is now, bit by bit, piece by piece, trying to put it together again, &c, ad infinitum. Is there anything that one Mr. Gladstone now supports the other Mr. Gladstone has not before opposed ? and is there anything that one Mr. Gladstone now opposes the other Mr. Gladstone has not before supported ? Mr. Gladstone's Jingo speech is described as the best he ever made ; as having, indeed, fairly taken the House by storm. But what raised this enthusiasm ? The earnestness with which he urged the members to do their duty. Not a bit of it. It was the earnestness with which he assured tbe House that he would do his duty. They really believed the time had come at last when his " Yes " actually meant " Yes," and his " No " actually meant " No."' How miserably thev have deceived themselves the last twenty-four hours has shown them. Praising Mr. Gladstone for his skill in making a speech is very much like praising Mr. Roberts for his skill in playing the spot stroke at billiards. Apparently he can't help it : neither can Mr. Gladstone. Long practice lias made speech-making as easy to him as playing the spot-stroke is to Mr. Roberts in fact, he can't help it. A man who feels very proud when he has delivered himself of half a do/en consecutive sentences, listens to the rolling river of Mr. Gladstone's oratory with enthusiasm : every succeeding speech he declares is the most splendid he has ever heard. And so THE HORN OF ASTOLPHO. the man who "fancies himself" uncommonly if he can make three consecutive spot strokes, watches Roberts make 150 consecutive spot strokes with enthusiasm, and declares each stroke the best he has ever seen. Why Mr. Gladstone's admirers should have been so delighted with this speech I cannot imagine. There is nothing very grand or very heart-stirring in seeing a venerable statesman of seventy - fivedon the white sheet of repentance, and make as complete a recanta- tion of his entire policy as it is possible for any man to make. For what do Mr. Gladstone's words mean when translated by common sense ? Gentlemen of the House of Commons, when I turned out the Tories five years ago I had no foreign policy, none whatever. Foreign policy is the one thing, the only thing I believe, that I do not understand ; but I was inspired ; I decided at once to adopt as my foreign policy the exact and complete antithesis of the foreign policy of Lord Beaconsfield, and I remember with what enthusiasm you cheered my decision. I found Lord Beaconsfield had taken steps to punish the insult offered to the British Crown, and the treacherous murder of British Troops in the Transvaal, so I immediately withdrew the troops from the Transvaal. I found Lord Beaconsfield, at great cost, had arranged a scientific frontier that would safeguard tbe gates of India, so I immediately abandoned it, retired from Candahar, and sent the railway plant to Jehanum.. I found Lord Beaconsfield had cemented most friendly relations with Turkey, Austria, and Germany, so I at once insulted Austria, put pressure on Turkey, cold-shouldered Germany, and made most gushing advances to France and Russia. In all this I followed the advice of a very clever lady, who I felt understood these questions far better than I did. I know my enemies argue that because I have now sent troops to South Africa ; am rebuilding the railway to Quetta : am about to re-occupy Candahar ; have, hat in hand, sought the friendship of Germany and Austria, have shaken hands with those odious Turks ; am rebuilding bit by bit, stone by stone, the structure of Lord Beaconsfield's policy that I have with such labour and cost pulled to pieces, that therefore my policy has been a failure. But this is only because they do not understand it. Believe me, my foreign policy has been and is an absolute success. You, my advanced supporters, have always maintained that the proper position of England is that of a third or fourth rate Power ; that the burden of her present empire is too great for her to bear. " Perish India," " Let the Colonies go," have been your cry. I have never contested the reasonableness of your views ; but it has always appeared to me a question of grave difficulty how England could descend from the perilous position of the first Power in Europe, to the safer one of a third or fourth rate Power, without going through the ordeal of war or revolution. But I think if you will consider the events of the last five years, and carefully examine the position we are in now, you will see that without war for you know that I deny emphatically that we have been at war in Egypt and the Soudan, " military operations '" is the term I insist upon or revolution, we are already entering the haven of our hopes. The skill with which I have retired England from the perilous position of being the head of the Great Powers of Europe to the far safer one of a third or THE HORN OF ASTOLPHO. fourth Power is a page of our history that must, I am sure, command your admiration. You will easily understand that the task was not an easy one. I was quite aware that, in spite of my five years' rule, the odious spirit of Jingoism was still rife in the country. I knew the change could not be accomplished suddenly without exciting that contemptible spirit of ignorance and prejudice that fools delight to call the " Pride of Race : " the people have vet to learn that the real value of defeat in diplomacy or war is to teach us we are not humble enough ; but, as I have told you, I was inspired, and it occurred to me that if I could get on bad terms with the Great Powers of Europe, and with one after another get England between the horns of a dilemma, in which she must either fight or apologise, my object would be gained. I knew a little gentle pressure from you would always make fighting impossible, when apology would come as a mater of course. Fortune favours the brave. The colonial question gave us an opportunity of quarrelling with Germany. At the proper moment we apologised. The Bosphore Egyptien incident gave us an opportunity of quarrelling with France. At the proper moment we apologised, and apologised, too, I am proud to say, in a spirit of humility that England has never adopted before. The Penjdeh incident gave us an opportunity of quarrelling with Russia, and already we have amply apologised and have referred our just rights, or the just rights of our ally, to our good friend the King of the Sandwich Islands and the Mikado of the Savoy. Naturally after each apology we heard the now familiar phrase, " Friend, go down lower,"' and each time, without shame, we began to take a lower place. Five years ago we were first amongst our comrades at Dame Europa's School. In the most natural way in the world, almost without a struggle, in fact, we have gone down till we are now in the secure position of fourth boy. Could Machiavelli himself have done better ? Of course, my advanced Radical Friends, I appreciated at its real value the cheering that greeted my great speech about Herat. The Jingoes cheered, because, when they expected to hear only the hated voice of Jacob, they heard again, or fancied they did, the loved voice of Esau. You, my friends, cheered because you knew that though the voice might on this occasion sound like Esau's voice, it was indeed the very voice of Jacob ; and you were right. Did the subtlety of Jacob exceed mine ? The Jingoes cheered because they thought that the 11,000,000 would go to increase the army and navy ; but, be assured, as little as possible shall be wasted in ships and guns ; we have better uses for it ; and, moreover, secure in the position of a fourth-rate Power, relieved from the burden and responsibilities of empire, with neither India, Ireland, or Colonies to excite our anxiety, we may fairly hope that the storms and rivalries that at all times affect the peace of a first-class Power may rage with impunity over our heads, and that, in company with Belgium, Holland and Portugal, we may henceforward represent the non-combatant portion of the European family. 1885. No. VII. A RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN " T T UMPTY Dumpty sat on a wall," &c. Now there is no doubt that a short time ago Humpty Dumpty did sit on a wall, and, equally, there is no doubt he does not sit on it now. His enemies say he has had a great fall, and that he will never sit on the wall again ; that all his horses and all his men will never put him back again ; for one very good reason that they do not intend to try. "That is sheer blasphemy," say his friends. How can Dumpty the Infallible, Dumpty the Inspired, Dumpty the Semi-Divine ever fall ? He may have descended from the wall for strategic purposes; but fall, never ! Semi-divines never fall ; but, nevertheless, there are reasons why many people think that his friends would rather see him off the wall than on it. Infallibility and Inspiration are all very well when things go right, but are of no use at all when they go wrong, and even in the best regulated families things so easily go wrong. Now I do not think Mr. Gladstone will get on the wall again. I believe this is his final fall, and I'm sure I hope it is. I believe the Empire can only be saved by his keeping off the wall. Much is forgiven in a party leader ; but to break up the party, with a large majority, three times in a few years, is not forgiven. It becomes tiresome. It suits no one. Of course he assures his friends that he will soon be back again, more powerful than ever. But many look upon this as nothing more than the irrepressible confidence of age. The fact is certain that if Mr. Gladstone determines that he will never retire, he must sooner or later fall. He cannot go on for ever ; but even if this is his final fall, it is not sudden. It has long been recognised as inevitable. He has listened too eagerly to the ridiculous assurances of his flatterers that he could do anything. He began to think that, like the famous inventor of the axe, he could fly ; but it was evident to all that if he tried he would come to the ground with a bump, and he has done so. He thought he could carry the people with him in a coup d'etat, and rush the country into revolution ; but the people declined to be rushed. His coup d'etat has failed, and when a responsible states- man tries a coup d'etat and fails it is a serious matter for him. He spared no efforts to succeed, but he failed failed absolutely. Cer- tainly during the last five years the belief of most educated people the despicable classes, as he considers them in Mr. Gladstone has been very much modified. The feeling in the country about him is not at all what it was. Somehow or another, the gilt has come off the gingerbread. The Egyptian War did it. The extraordinary indifference, and even cheerfulness, with which he heaped disgrace after disgrace on his country beginning with the bombardment of Alexandria, and ending with the desertion of Gordon the blood-guiltiness and wanton cruelty, the immense cost, and the utter and complete failure of his policy in every detail, A RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN. induced people to ask themselves whether he was still a respon- sible statesman -whether he was in his right mind whether he " understood judgment,'" and knew what was going on ? And then it was whispered, in his defence, that he did not know what was going on. That it was considered better not to tell him anything that would worry him. His fall was inevitable, as inevitable as Caesar's. He was no longer a party leader, he was Imperator. It was I and my Cabinet, I and my Parliament, and he consulted one just as little as he consulted the other. It was no longer party government but autocratic government ; and the one condition necessary, absolutely necessary, to autocratic government is success failure kills it at once. Well, Mr. Gladstone's autocratic govern- ment brought failure after failure, each one was more disgraceful and more alarming than the last. When the criminal attempt was made to wash out the blood of Gordon in the blood of thousands of Soudanese who had never seen him, or heard of him, the public conscience was deeply hurt ; the cup of national shame flowed over. Those who ran could then see the handwriting on the wall that foretold the fall of an incapable Minister. It is the inevitable fate of everyone who lives long enough that sooner or later he must begin to radoter struggle as he may, sooner or later he must reach the point where great age impairs judgment, and induces him to say and do silly things. Well, to many of us in fact to most educated persons, those horrid classes again it has come home as a sad but undeniable fact that Mr. Gladstone has begun to radoter. There is nothing wrong in saying this ; it must come to all men. Neither infallibility nor inspiration will prevent the dot-and-go-one stage, mental and physical, overtaking us all. Happy is the man who recognises the inevitable, and retires from action with his colours flying. When Mr. Gladstone wrote his two articles last year, the " Dawn of Creation " and " Genesis," observing people shook their heads. " Cela sent la Radotage," they said. No man who had not begun to radoter would have ever put his name to such a tissue of folly and fallacies. Good natured, and indeed unwilling, critics made it evident to every one that Mr. Gladstone did not know the simple A B C of natural science, and that he had distorted facts and mis- quoted authorities in order to bolster up impossible views. Like Le Sage's immortal Archbishop, he no doubt honestly believed that the " Dawn of Creation " was the most brilliant and convincing article he had ever written. " Learn, my young friend," said the Arch- bishop to Gil Bias (who ventured to hint that his sermon sent Vapoplexie, and that he should think of retiring) "learn that I never composed a more brilliant homily than the one that has not your approbation. My wit, thank Heaven, has yet lost nothing of its vigour." But the public thought otherwise. " Mr. Gladstone," they said, " has begun to talk and write nonsense -he is no longer a responsible statesman." The (Political) Rake's Progress to Home Rule points a moral, but scarcely adorns a tale. Three years ago he denounced Mr. Parnell as steeped in treason to the very lips, and imprisoned him without trial because he advocated Home Rule. He imprisoned 1,000 persons, men and women and children, without A RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN. trial, because they advocated Home Rule. He passed the severest Act of repression against Home Rulers ever known in Ireland. He was on the very point of asking Parliament to renew this Act when he went out of office. He threw over Mr. Forster. He was reported to be going in for Home Rule. He indignantly denied the charge. His friends were furious that such a shameful report should be circulated. It was declared by them to be impossible. Whilst his friends were still denying the possibility of his becoming a Home Ruler he declared for Home Rule. Thereupon his friends immediately declared for Home Rule too. He declared he had always been a Home Ruler, and his friends at once declared they had always been Home Rulers too. He denounces Mr. Pitt as a blackguard, and the Act of Union as a second massacre of St. Bartholomew. His friends denounce Lord Hartington as Judas. He receives a deputation of Home Rulers at Hawarden Castle. He describes himself as a " humble individual " (ye gods !) " dwelling in his humble private residence" (how the devil must have grinned !). He complimented the gentlemen he had denounced as steeped in treason to the very lips and imprisoned without trial on their " singular moderation and temperance of expression." " Threats of force, gentlemen, have not proceeded from you," &c. (here Mercury, the god of deceit, burst into a laugh). He promised Home Rule to Scotland and Wales. He denounced the English. Repudiated Liverpool as his birthplace, and declared himself to be entirely of Scottish blood. He denounced the selfishness of the classes, and held them up to the hatred of the masses. At present there is a pause. He is editing his explanations, but he would be a sanguine man indeed who would say he has no more arrows in his quiver. Most men would have found it rather awkward to explain away the speeches, and arguments, and denunciations and ridicule of 50 years. But Mr. Gladstone did not find it awkward not a bit of it. He can explain anything away. When it was proposed to marry Garibaldi to a rich Englishwoman it was objected that there was an impediment, that he had already got a wife. " Oh, that does not signify," said Lord Palmerston, " Gladstone will explain her away." In this case he boldly took the bull by the horns. His explanation was very simple. He was not a Unionist at all. He had always been a Home Ruler. All the Unionist sentiments he had uttered for 20 years were false. God only knows what it had cost him to utter them. Bat now liberari animum meum. Thank God he was free. The situation required decision. He had two horses in the race, " Infallibility " and " Veracity." He declared to win with Infallibility, and Veracity was not persevered with. Never have words been so unscrupulously employed to conceal thoughts ; never has veracity been so cynically repudiated. It is the most stupendous public deceit that has ever been practised or attempted. That of the Claimant was a joke to it. He claimed to be a baronet, knowing all the time that he was the butcher's son ; Mr. Gladstone claimed to be a Unionist, knowing all the time he was a Separatist. But the one imposition only lasted 10 years ; the latter through a long life. It was shocking, almost brutal, but it did not answer. It gave every one a shock, set everyone's teeth on edge. A RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN. Explain as he may, the fact still remains that if he has been a Home Ruler for 20 years, for 20 years he has been living with a lie on his lips. " II y a des mauvaises examples qui sont pires que des crimes;" and here was one of them. We have not had long to wait to see its demoralising effects. " With other echo late I taught your shades To answer, and resound far other song," Mr. Gladstone says to his followers. " Yes, you did, certainly," they reply, " and we thought your echo was true, but now we find it was not, that all the time you were preaching Union to us you were cherishing Separation in your heart ; but it is all right, we are Separatists now, always have been, like you, don't you see ?" (with .a wink). But it is not the apparent want of veracity in these gentlemen that is so startling ; it is their extraordinary effrontery. Lord Hartington still repeats the echo Mr. Gladstone taught him, and because he does so he is received by those turn-coats with cries of Judas ! It may be a very good masher's joke to call the man who shows you an example of honour, honesty, and self-respect, Judas ; but in this case it does not seem to apply. Judas betrayed his Master ; but here his master betrays Judas ! There is no doubt of it. Lord Hartington stood firm to the principles and professions of his master, and his master ratted, ratted abominably ; beyond example past or present. A few years ago Mr. Gladstone illustrated the absurdity of the demand for an Irish Parliament by the argument that if Ireland had a separate Parliament Scotland and Wales should have separate Parliaments also. Now he is prepared to grant separate Parliaments to all three. But now London puts in a claim, and London has three to one the population of Wales. How -can London be refused ? The fact is that separate Parliaments, as now advocated by Mr. Gladstone, means disintegration of the Empire absolute, entire, complete. It would in a very short time reduce a great United Kingdom to a very small dis-United States. People are beginning to understand this at last very slowly, it is true, but fast enough, I hope, to save the Empire. The fact is that the prospect of Mr. Parnell as uncrowned King of Ireland, of Mr. Gladstone as uncrowned King of Scotland and who shall we say ? the members for Northampton, perhaps, as uncrowned Kings of England and Wales, is not a view of national felicity that fills all hearts with joy. Cicero relates of Carneades, the Greek orator, that out of hatred to the Stoics he not only con- tradicted the rest of the Academics with regard to the summum bonum, or Supreme Good, but even contradicted all that he had ever said on the subject himself. All his life Mr. Gladstone has maintained that the unity of the kingdom was the summum bonam of national existence. Can it be true, as is supposed by many people, that it is only his bitter, sour detestation of the Tories that induces him to contradict all that he has ever said, and argue that the summum bonum of national life is in Separation ? Of course, every public man is more or less of an actor. Mr. Gladstone is more of an actor probably than any public man that ever lived. He is miserable when he has not got an engagement, and he has to pass a day A RESPONSIBLE STATESMAN. without appearing before the footlights.. He can play a great number of characters, from Plato to Pecksniff, and from Cicero to Catiline. There is only one part he will not play, and that is an unpopular part. He always plays to the gallery, and the moment he sees his part is not popular with the gallery he chucks it up, even though it is in the middle of a run. In these matters he consults nobody's interest but his own. It has become a necessity with him to hear Demos purr every day. If he misses this treat, he, like Titus, feels he has lost a day, and he tries to arrange for a double purr the day following. Many people have wondered what can have been the cause of the extraordinary accession of bitterness and recklessness that has marked the political utterances of our responsible statesman during the last yea''. Why has he become so bitter against England ? Why has he so deliberately encouraged class animosities? "The embers of hatred, which have been cold for years," says Mr. Gold- win Smith, "are rekindled by the religious statesman for the purpose of exciting the hatred of Scotland, Ireland, and Wales- against England.'" This is true absolutely true but why does he wish to excite the hatred of Scotland, Ireland, and Wales against England? Is it only because England has disappointed his vanity and his ambition ? Scotland, Ireland, and Wales played into his hands, but the English trumped his game. He seems to have come to the conclusion that the fact of 86 Irish members having given him their votes was more than a sufficient cause for breaking up the Union between Great Britain and Ireland, and he was very angry with the English because they did not think so too. If the masses had followed the advice of our responsible states- man, the country would now be in the full swing of revolution. For the time we have escaped the storm, but undeniably he has sown the whirlwind. How are we ever to believe him again ? How are we ever to know what he really is at any one time ? For 20 years he has been loudly professing Union principles, and now tells us that during all that time he has been a Home Ruler ! In one sentence he extols the greatness and unity of the Empire, and exhorts all classes to work together for the common good ; and in the next he advocates separation, and urges the masses to shake themselves free from the selfish tyranny of the classes ! And Mr. Gladstone is a responsible statesman ! What does he mean ! The voice, indeed, is Cicero's voice, but the hand is the hand of Catiline. The clouds are very threatening, but yet there is just a little bit of silver lining. Hitherto Mr. Gladstone has periodically declared he would retire, and he has babbled about green fields, and repose, and all that sort of thing : but the more he babbled the less he seemed inclined to go. Well now he has dropped all this, and at the age of nearly four score he declares he will not retire. I really believe this* means that he intends to go. 1886. No. VIII. AARON'S ROD. AT length we hear the solemn tones of the " Voice that breathed o'er Havvarden.'' It is a lugubrious strain certainly, and decidedly monotone ; but we are told it celebrates the wedding of Whigs and Radicals, and sends them on their way rejoicing to spend their honeymoon in the " Paradise Regained " of office. It makes one, indeed, more inclined to weep than to rejoice ; but nevertheless it comes as a relief. It is not an hour too soon. The " stump " is played out. The political priests on both sides have exhausted their stock of misrepresentations and satire ; they have,, in turn, " cast down each man his rod," and there they are darting about all over the place, in every direction, some more or less venomous, some perfectly harmless. But nobody has taken much notice of them, because everyone knows that the Great High Priest himself must sooner or later cast down his rod, which will immediately begin to swallow all the rest, and it is of no use taking interest in any particular rod that we know is on the point of being swallowed by some other rod. Well, he has done so. He has cast down his rod. and a most enormous serpent it has become, probably the biggest on record. Many think that it is too heavy and too unwieldy, and will never be quick enough to swallow up the other rods. I think so, too. I don't believe Aaron's rod will swallow all the rest. The position of the Great High Priest of the Radicals is a very exceptional one. Twice in ten years he has indulged in the excessively foolish and puerile amusement of taking oft' his shoes before he was going to bed ; in other words, he has twice thrown up the sponge when he might have won the fight. He has twice relinquished office when he had more than a necessary majority to keep it, and on each occasion that he has voluntarily resigned office he has tried to resume it again the next day. Now surely this is acting more like a spoilt child than a serious statesman. If it was any other man, the Liberal party would be angry ; they would say : " our leader is like Hannibal, he throws good dice but does not know how to use them " ; he gains victories but does not profit by them ; he is the grandest advocate possible, but the worst possible judge. This is what they might say, and what in any other case they would say. What they do say is this. Our leader is very unreliable ; he throws down his cards when he has the game in his hands ; he turns us out of office unexpectedly, but he brings us back in triumph quite as unexpectedly ; he has what no other man amongst us has the ear of our masters; he is the withy that binds all our troublesome sticks together ; with him we are strong, without him we go absolutely to pieces. And this is quite true. Thrice in ten years Mr. Gladstone has wielded the axe that has brought the Liberal majority to the ground, but nevertheless on each occasion the Liberal party has, like the sandal tree, shed perfume on the instrument of its destruction. AARON'S ROD. The situation is a very complicated one. The Radicals openly advocate a radical reconstruction of everything a complete transfer of the governing power. The Whigs desire to avoid all Radical reconstruction to keep the governing power where it is ; to follow a policy, in fact, in all things moderately Conservative. The aspirations of Whigs and Radicals are indeed as opposite as the Poles divergent, and every hour more diverging. The only person that can make the resultant of these diverging forces work for the good of " the Party " is Mr. Gladstone. " Opifer per orbem dicor," he says to Whigs and Radicals. I am the great Liberal Physician ; come to me and I will put you in office again. And they go after him straightway as an ox goeth to the slaughter ; or shall we say rather, " as a fool to the correction of the stocks." The party mot d'ordre at present is that there is not and never has been any real split in the Liberal camp, but this apparently leaves them on the horns of a dilemma. If there was no divergence of opinion two months ago, why on earth did they throw up office with a majority of 70 ? And if there is no divergence of opinion now, why do Lord Hartington and Mr. Chamberlain hum such strangely different tunes. There is a split no doubt, and the only possible cure for it is to resume office, and the only possible way to resume office is to assemble under the umbrella of Mr. Gladstone. Mr. Gladstone at this moment stands between Plutus and Plebs. He says to the former, " I am for the rights of property, for primogeniture, the Church, and everything you care about ; but remember Plebs has a vote, and to secure that vote we must dissemble." He says to Plebs, " I think, and I have always thought, you ought to have a great deal more of everything that Plutus has got than you have got ; but remember Plutus is timid Timidus Plutus the poets always call him and he has got a vote, and to secure that vote we must dissemble ; " and therefore " to dissemble " is the necessary policy of the hour. It is rather illogical, certainly, to throw up office without any sufficient reason one day, and to make any sacrifices of consistency or conviction to regain it the next ; but such are party politics. In office the Whigs think they can dish the Radicals ; in office the Radicals think they can dish the Whigs. Out of office the Radicals can do very little ; they cannot make landlord soup till they have caught their landlord, and they cannot sell the Church's skin till they have killed the Church, and to do both, or either of these things, they must be in office. " To everything there is a season," we are told, "and a time to every purpose under the heaven. There is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing." Well, this is the time for Whigs and Radicals to embrace under the great umbrella. The Liberal programme is to kiss and take office again, and from a party point of view, and of course the party view is the only one professional politicians can afford to take, it is simple common sense. The situation admits of no other. There is little doubt that it will recommend itself to all who follow politics as others do the church, the bar, the army, medicine, trade as a profession. But what will Plebs say? That is the question. They may argue in this way: " We don't benefit personally by your return to office. You fortunate AARON'S ROD. sons of Levi divide the contents of the fleshpots amongst yourselves, but don't give us any. We therefore go for those who promise to give us most, or who, at least, we hope will give us most. You, Mr. Gladstone, tell us that we ought to have a great deal more of everything that Plutus has, but you do not tell us exactly how we are to get it. You lead us to suppose your sympathies are with us, with partition, Disestablishment, and all that sort of thing, but that you are restrained by certain great economic laws. Now Mr. Chamberlain also tells us that we ought to have a great deal more of everything Plutus has ; but he goes further than you ; he tells us exactly what we ought to take, and how we are to take it. He entirely agrees with your theories, and, as he does not regard the great economic laws that restrain you, he actually points out to us how we should put your theories into practice. There is no difference between you, except that you prefer theory to practice ; he prefers practice to theory. You must not be surprised if, when the squeeze comes, we, as practical men, prefer the man who is prepared to act to the one who is contented to preach. In following Mr. Chamberlain we are in reality only trying to realise your hopes and wishes. ' A snatch from behind a bush is sometimes better than the prayers of good men,' and a snatch from behind Mr. Chamberlain's orchids will most probably secure us what we want much more quickly than your pious aspirations."' Now, Plebs may say this, and very likely will, and if he does I do not see what Mr. Gladstone can say, or any of his followers. Without any doubt whatever his indefinite promises and exhortations have created immense expectations amongst the people. To catch the popular applause of the hour, as many think, he has somehow or other encouraged the desire for your neighbour's goods. To a certain extent it is his child. He cannot now put it on one side. It is rather awkward. But though the Manifesto has summoned all good Whigs and Radicals to the great umbrella, the game between Whigs and Radicals is not being satisfactorily played out. Accidents will happen in the best-regulated families, and in the Radical family an accident has happened, regretted, I believe, by all men of good feeling on both sides, that has deprived the Radicals of one of their most stalwart champions. As we all know, there is a great difference between a boat propelled by one man with a pair of sculls, and by two men with a pair of oars : One doctor singly likes the sculler plies, The patient struggles, but by inches dies ; But two physicians, with a pair of oars, Waft him right swiftly to the Stygian shores. Well, the Radical boat, instead of being propelled by two physicians with a pair of oars, is only sculled by one doctor singly. He is sculling away very pluckily no doubt, but it is a different affair, and he may not stay the course. It may be an excellent thing for the patient, however; it may actually give Nature a chance, and he may steer clear of the Stygian shores altogether; but it certainly for the time conceals from the country the true strength of the Radical party. I don't think Mr. Gladstone's elaborate apology for the absolute smash up of his foreign policy will influence many of AARON'S ROD. his followers, either Whigs or Radicals. The " Please, mum, it's the other cook's fault " excuse becomes tiresome when we remember that the last cook left our service five years ago. She must, indeed, have bewitched all the pots and pans and demoralised the marmitons if all the horrible cooking and frightful messes of the last five years are still her fault. This new gospel of original sin is, of course, very convenient. It releases us from all responsibility for our actions. " My grandfather stole a duck 50 years ago, and therefore I am not to blame for stealing a chicken now the blame rests entirely on that wretched old man who stole the duck 50 years ago." Time apparently has nothing to do with original sin. This may be very convenient in private life, but it is very inconvenient in the public service. Really, the heads of the parties should meet together and i\x a " Statute of Limitations " as to when the responsibilities of one Minister must end and that of another must commence. According to the Hawarden Manifesto, Providence and Lord Beaconsfield are responsible for all the disgrace, and ruin, and slaughter, and extravagance of the last five years, more especially for the desertion of Gordon. It will surprise many of us to hear that Providence and Lord Beaconsfield were on such exceedingly friendly terms. I always understood that Providence resided permanently at Hawarden, and that it was quite another influence that was paramount at Hughenden. The only meaning of the apology that I can discover is this that the Devil and Lord Beaconsfield got us into a horrid mess, and that Providence and Mr. Gladstone have made it ten times worse. 1886. IX. A "BALLON D'ESSAI." YOUR readers all know what a ballon d essai means. Well, this is one. I send it up in order to test the current of public opinion ; but balloons are very unsatisfactory. Like adults, they seldom do what they ought to do, and very often do what they ought not to do or like spoilt children, refuse to do anything at all. Sometimes they travel with immense rapidity to the very point they are desired to go to, at another time they travel with equal rapidity to the very point they are desired not to go to, and sometimes they decline to travel in any direction whatever. They are painfully human. I am quite aware that in sending up my balloon I shall be reproached with bad taste, and shall be reminded that " Fools rush in where angels fear to tread," &c. And this, no doubt, is perfectly true as regards the angels and the fools ; but we must remember that the fools are the vast majority, that hats are born every minute, whereas angels' visits at the best are only few and far between. It is certain that if the fools always leave the initiative to the angels, the world will make very little progress in any direction, and besides, in this world, at any rate, the fools represent the men, and the angels the women ; at least, I don't at this moment know of any male angels except those little unfor- tunates who found it impossible to accept the Virgin's polite invitation to be seated mais madame nous n'avons pas de quoi ! -and as my balloon has particular reference to angels, perhaps they feel a delicacy in taking any direct part in the discussion. However, it is no use wasting any more time in preliminary remarks. My balloon is inflated. I have only to cut the string to let it go ; and now at the last moment, let me confess that I fear I am treading on delicate ground so delicate that probably only a fool would venture on it. But in whatever direction my balloon is carried by the breath of public opinion, I wish it to be distinctly understood that it is not a war balloon charged with ill-will to any person or nation, but essentially a peace balloon, freighted with goodwill towards men, and especially towards women. The heir presumptive to the Throne of England has attained the age at which Royal Princes usually enter into the state that is especially described as " Holy," and many millions in and out of the British Empire are asking each other, " Who will he marry ? " " You should take a wife, sir/' said a certain famous physician to a certain famous wit. " By all means," was the prompt reply, "but whose wife shall I take ?" This reply at the expense of that great fulcrum of modern society, " Other People's Wives," was rude, and the O. P. W.'s ought to have resented it, but they didn't. " You should take a wife, sir," John Bull may some day say to his pre- sumptive Sovereign. " By all means," maybe the prompt reply, "But where am I to find her?" But here comes in my ballon A BALLON D'ESSAI." d'essai What will public opinion say? In which direction dots England wish her future Sovereign to look for a wife ? Of course all sensible people hope that when his Royal Highness does marry he will marry the object of his choice (object is the expression used in such cases, though when you say a lady is an " object," admira- tion is not always understood). But unfortunately for his Royal Highness the trammels that hedge in the Heir to the British Throne in the selection of a wife are very irksome, and I think very unreasonable ; whilst almost even- other man in the world may marry whom he pleases (the Lord of Burleigh a dairymaid, King Cophetua a beggar maid, &c), the Heir of the Throne of England must marry where he is advised. He is, by law, probably more restricted in the choice of a wife than any other person in the world. Is it not our duty to assist him in every possible way, and make his matrimonial burden as easy as we can ? At present the wife of the presumptive Heir to the Throne must be Royal or Serene, Royal for choice, and she must be a Protestant, and thus by a stroke of the pen, nineteen-twentieths of the Royalties and Serenities of Europe are scratched for the Royal Stakes. Hitherto, as we know, the Royal Family of England has sought and found husbands and wives amongst the Royal and Serene Families, great and small, of Protestant Germany, his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales"s most fortunate selection being the one conspicuous exception. I do not decry the German alliances. On the contrary, I admire the German character and nation very much, and I think it has grafted well on the Anglo-Saxon stock, but there is no doubt that there is a feeling in the country that there is already German blood enough in our Royal Family ; and it is, moreover, undoubted that the creation of the German Empire has made a great change in the rank and power of the Royalties and Serenities of Protestant Ger- many. They have sunk considerably more into a subject position.. A Grand Duke or Prince in Germany is now just as much a subject of the Emperor of Germany as an English duke or earl is a subject of the Sovereign of England ; and the question naturally occurs to- many of us if our future King may marry a subject in Protestant Germany, why may he not marry a subject in any other Protestant country ? The question is entirely one of common sense. Have not the growth of nations and the march of events rendered it desirable that the Heir Presumptive to the Throne of England should seek a matrimonial alliance outside the Royal and Serene families of Protestant Germany? That is the question. The English-speaking races number now over 80,000,000 of people. Cannot our Prince find a fitting bride amongst them ; one who speaks the English tongue ; has old English blood in her veins ? Of course he can thousands ! Amongst the 80,000,000 of the Anglo-Saxons of our race there are thousands of women who for beauty, and wisdom, and nobility of nature would have graced the throne of the Great Alexander himself. It would be inconvenient, we are told, for his Royal Highness to marry one of his own subjects English, Irish, Scotch, Canadian, Australian, New Zealand, or Hottentot. (I believe we BALLON D'ESSAI." already have a Hottentot countess.) This may be so. I cannot say ; but, granted it is so, can there be any objection whatever to his marrying an American ? Again, I ask, and this is the object of my letter, why should not Prince Albert Edward marry an American, always supposing he wishes it bleu entendu ? The Americans are a great people, a tremendous people, a wonderful people. Their empire extends, from ocean to ocean from pole to tropics. Their great eagle spreads his wings over the whole earth. Their great snapping turtle but I forget, all this relates to American men, and our sub- ject is a far more charming and attractive one, it is American women. Well, eagle and snapping turtle aside, are American women worthy of this wonderful race of men ? Are they indeed ? Does anyone doubt it ? Why, yes, certainly they are, and a great deal worthier, too. Comparisons are always odious, and very dangerous, too, where ladies are concerned, so we will keep off the- delicate ground, at any rate. But I think this much may be stated, without fear of the consequences, that if the three goddesses Europe, Asia, and America (I think the Hottentot goddess may be. omitted from this competition) were to contend for the apple, the- last named would not be the last to catch the " Speaker's " eye I mean the eye of the modern Paris. Without presuming to make any comparisons of female attractions throughout the world, it is- certain the American women are very charming very charming, indeed, and very clever; charming and clever, not only in the eyes of Englishmen, but of all nationalities. Charming and clever enough to monopolise half the diplomatists of Europe ; charming enough and clever enough to adorn any throne in the world. The French have a pretty little conceit about their pet, the Parisienne. They say that when the good fairy who served out female attractions to all the daughters of Eve, complexion to the German, grace to the Spaniard, expression to the Italian. &c, had exhausted all her treasures, an attractive little figure came tripping up and asked for her share. " And who are you, dear ? " said the fairy, rather surprised. " Oh, Em a Parisienne," said the little lady. " I am so sorry," said the Fee, " but I have given everything away to your sisters, I have actually nothing left." This caused great grief to the petitioner, so much so, that the good fairy took pity on her, and calling the other recipients of her bounty together,, put it to them whether, as she had been so generous to them, they would not give a portion of her gifts to the little stranger, which they agreed to do. They each gave her a share of the Fairy's gifts, and so they made the Parisienne who, we are told, combines- in a sufficient degree all that makes woman-kind delightful. The Americaine was not present when these good things were being served out, for the very good reason that " in that good fairy's time she hadn't been invented yet," but she was quite equal to the- occasion. She had no idea of being left out in the cold. Like those fine old Milesian families who had a boat of their own at the flood, she got a fairy of her own, and told her to take the Parisienne for a model, and see if she could not improve upon her, hence the Americaine. Whether the American fairy was successful' A "BALLON D'ESSAI." in fulfilling the instructions of her fair client, I must leave to better judges to decide, but there is no doubt that both original and copy are very nice. Many of your readers no doubt have heard a very irresistible champion in the lists of beauty recite the story of the only Royal alliance that, as far as I am aware, has yet been cele- brated in America. I am bound to say it is not encouraging. " Better luck next time," as the dentist cheerfully remarked when he found he had pulled out the wrong tooth and proceeded to pull out the right one. A certain crowned head, from a kingdom that shall be nameless, came on earth to find a wife. First he visited Eng- land, where he found the ladies very charming, and he was just going to deliver himself into their hands when something induced inm to try France. In Paris he found them still more delightful, and again he was on the point of offering his hand and his I was going to say heart, but I suppose this article would be rather dc irop where he came from when he again changed his mind, and went to New York. Here he found absolute perfection no draw- backs at all. He came, saw, and was conquered ; proposed, was accepted ; married, and even perfection has a thorn somewhere in a month he wished himself back in his warm, and, we will hope, comfortable (as so many of our friends seem bent on going there) home. Whether his bride accompanied him I don't think we are told. Probably she would prefer going to Paris. But the Americans are not Royal we are told, nor Serene, not even noble ; but noble is as noble does. Those who act nobly are noble though they are not even born so, and those who act ignobly are not noble though they can prove that their ancestors actually scrubbed the boots (they used sand paper in those days instead of blacking) of William the Conqueror. We hear a great deal in diplomatic circles of tangling alliances, and it is quite certain that in these unsettled days it would be very easy for our Prince to form an alliance that might ere long become tangling in the way the bramble is tangling. If he married an American he would form an alliance that might become tangling, too ; but it would be in the way the honeysuckle is tangling, binding together the two great English speaking nations of the world in its firm and fragrant coils. It is a pretty conceit, but actually not an exaggerated one. Would such a marriage bring about a closer intimacy and alliance, and a sense of common interest between Americans and English ? Would it make both nations realise that " blood is really thicker than water?" I believe it would. I believe that 50,000,000 (more or less) of people in America would hail with enthusiasm the prospect of one of Columbia's daughters sharing the throne of England, and I believe 34,000,000 in England would welcome with delight a Queen of their own blood, and breed, and speech. From the stand of haute politique, is not this a subject deserving the most anxious and earnest thought of the nation ? Can any other question be more so ? England and America are the two great divisions of the Anglo-Saxon race. If such an alliance would bring them into closer union and concord, is it not worth striving for ? Can any other alliance offer us such fair prospects ? We are told that the British Monarchy and British institutions are BALLON D'ESSAI. at their decline. It may be so ; but the end is not yet. Certainly this year has seen incitement to revolution, a hounding of class against class, of the masses against the classes, that recalls the days of Catiline ; but somehow or another, the powder only fizzed, the explosion did not take place. I suppose the public saw there was something not quite square when they recognised in the chief agitator against the classes the owner of a castle, the largest landed proprietor in his county, who has created more peers and drawn more public money than any politician living. The Americans are Republicans, and Republicans they will always remain, but Republican spells order and security in America, in England, as yet, it only spells revolution. It seems a contradiction, but it is a strong probability, that in the not distant future, the monachy of England may find its strongest support in the Republic cf America. 1886. X. MY AWFUL DAD. NO, it is not a joke at all it is not a mauvaise plaisanterie in any way ; it is an actual fact, that what England has been suffering from for the last six years, and is suffering from now, is the astounding indiscretions of her oldest statesman. He is the last of the past generation of statesmen ; but he has a greater facility for getting into scrapes than the whole of the present generation rolled into one. In the words of one of his former colleagues, he is one of Those very persevering bricks Who bustle on at seventy-six. His mental vivacity is phenomenal, his erratic impulse unaccountable, his capacity for scrapes illimitable. Every succeeding year seems but to place him in a position of greater freedom and less responsibility. Erom the period of the Bulgarian atrocities to the present moment scrape has succeeded scrape, indiscretion succeeded indiscretion with bewildering rapidity, till at last he has out-Heroded Herod actually out-Gladstoned Gladstone by throwing up his hat for Home Rule. Irresponsible statesman ! Perplexed England ! It is incredible. How will it all end ; or, what is of more importance, who will it end ? Him or the country ? One must positively go. I think the country will stay the longest. Mr. Gladstone is again too late. It is too late for him to disestablish the Church ; too late for him to break up the United Kingdom. He is too old. The game of life has got no nicks For him who plays at seventy-six. In nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand we are accustomed to see age restraining the impetuosity of youth ; but in this sensational instance we see youth trying in vain to restrain the impetuosity of age. " Don't be in such a devil of a hurry, my dear boy," is the usual injunction of age to youth. " Who goes gently, goes safely."' Instead of that, we hear youth on all sides calling out, " For God's sake, old man, don't be so rash. If you don't mind, you'll break your neck, and ours, too." Now, there is no parallel to this extraordinary rejuvenescence (except the case of the notorious Doctor Faustus, and there is a flavour of brimstone about him that is disagreeable), and it is so entirely contrary to all human experience that we are taken aback. We don't know where we are. An old head on young shoulders is bad enough it generally means a prig, or something disagreeable ; but the head of 20 on the shoulders of 76 is positively uncanny and dangerously misleading. As a rule, we listen to the voice of age without question. It is a case of misplaced confidence indeed when it proves to be only the irresponsible verbosity of youth. Every man becomes more MY AWFUL DAD. Conservative, or Preservative, as he grows older ; it appears to be a universal law of nature. Time has taught him that man is not infallible, not even the youngest that there were strong men before Agamemnon, and wise men even before himself. We have no experience to guide us in dealing with a statesman whose belief in his own infallibility and whose contempt for past experience increases in geometrical proportion with his advancing years. And now can any of your readers explain the " Dual " mystery of Hawarden ? At Hawarden are Mr. Gladstone pere and Mr. Gladstone fits, and recent events show us that occasionally these two are apt to get mixed. A true believer consults the oracle of Hawarden. " Oh ! " he exclaims with ecstasy, " That is the voice of Mr. Gladstone." " No, it is not," replies the attendant priest, rather sharply, tor he has heard the same mistake very often before, " it is the voice of Mr. Herbert.'' He listens again. " Oh ! that is the voice of Mr. Herbert," he says, somewhat disappointed. " No, it isn't," again replies the unsympathetic priest, "it is the voice of Mr. Gladstone." "Why, confound it," says the true believer, now really angry, " which is which ? " "I only wish you would tell us," answers the confused and now confounded priest, "we often don't know ourselves." And, indeed, who does know ? It is the old story. The voice indeed is Mr. Gladstone's voice, but the hands are the hands of Mr. Herbert. This " confounding the person and dividing the substance " is indeed very confusing and very inconvenient, as the Leeds journalists have discovered to their cost. Now, no doubt there are some of us who are content to follow Mr. Gladstone, and some of us who are content to follow Mr. Herbert ; but I cannot conceive it possible that the being exists who would be content to follow the two combined. Some of Mr. Gladstone's friends say he is pining for retirement, for religious meditation, for classical absorption, and all that sort of thing, and is only kept on the treadmill of party strife by the ambition of his surroundings. Other of his friends, on the contrary, say that his surroundings do all they can to induce him to seek the peace and repose that are necessary for his health, and which eight years ago he so passionately claimed as his right, but that since the elections such a fierce desire to return to office has taken possession of him, that they are helpless to restrain him. Possibly both statements are true, or neither of them, and it really does not much concern the outside public. What really does concern them very closely, what indeed they have apparently an actual right to know, is how much that emanates from Hawarden is inspired by Mr. H. Gladstone and spoken by Mr. W. E. Gladstone ; how much is inspired by Mr. W. E. Gladstone and communicated to the press by Mr. H. Gladstone. The most disappointing and distressing feature of the condition "greater freedom and less responsibility" that influences Mr. Gladstone in his old age is the increased indifference even dislike it appears to develop in him for the institutions of his country. Certainly he never has said much in their favour during his long life, but of late years he has not had a good word for any of them. On the contrary, he is always on the look out for weak places ; and of course old institutions, that have stood the wear and tear of 402142 MY AWFUL DAD. centuries whilst all around have been swept away, must have many weak places, and when he has found one he does not attempt to mend or strengthen it, but sets to work tooth and nail to make it worse and expose it to the censure of the world. " Your image is made of gold and silver and brass," he says to us, " and no doubt it is a very imposing image ; but after all it is a sham, its feet are only iron and miry clay, and I will smite the image upon his feet and break them in pieces, and then the iron, and the clay, and the gold, and the brass, and the silver shall be broken in pieces together, and become like the chaff of the summer threshing floors." It really looks as if this is to be our fate. Mr. Gladstone is already preparing to smite our image on the feet, to pick out the iron from the clay, to cut the withy that binds the Imperial sticks in the bundle. He will give independence to Ireland, and Scotland, Wales, Australia, Canada, and India will soon take it for themselves ; and the withy will be cut and the bundle will fall to pieces, and the debris of the great British Empire will soon be as " the chaff on the summer threshing floor." This is really no nonsense, no mere nightmare it is a fact, as certain as that the sun will set to-night, that if Mr. Gladstone is given carte blanche to try his destructive experiments on the unity of the kingdom, it will be the beginning of the end. I see Mr. Gladstone has written what is called a " Proem : a plea for a fair trial," on that unfortunate slip of the pen, " The Dawn of Creation." So gloz'd the tempter and his Proem proved, Into the heart of Eve his words made way. More than they will do into the heart of Professor Huxley, I imagine. Does it never occur to him that the United Kingdom, the British Empire, may also claim its " Proem," may also put forward a "plea for a fair trial?" If England is under a cloud now, if other nations sneer at her and point the finger of scorn, and laugh at her sham professions and infirm actions, at her glorious flag trailed in the dirt, her honour forfeited, her noblest son deserted and left to a cruel death, whose name do they connect with this disgrace ? Twice Mr. Gladstone has tried to govern the British Empire, twice he has failed ; and now he is mad with the desire to try a third time. But the third time may be fatal. Of course, the fault of failure was not his ; it was the fault of our institutions, and therefore they must be remodelled to suit his requirements. A bad workman generally finds fault with his tools. I have no doubt that if Alexander had failed to ride Bucephalus, he would have declared he was a brute, and would have sent him to a hack cab, if there was one in those days. I often hear it said that political morality is very shady ; but granting it is as black as it is painted, I suppose there must be some line beyond which the most licensed may not step. And in the face of the recent elections it is really interesting to ascertain where this line is. " Hodge, my boy, here's a cow and three acres for you, if you only vote for me." " Socialist, my fine fellow, here's 'Ransom' and 'Restitution' for you, if you only vote for me." MY AWFUL DAD. " Dissenter, my advanced Christian ' chappie,' here's 200,000,000 of Church property for you, if you only vote for me." And now that these offers have fallen short of the expected result, the word has gone forth to the Home Rulers, " Only vote for me, and you shall have anything you ask, even to the half of the kingdom." A man was playing at cards, when he suddenly seized a fork and drove it right through his opponent's hand as it rested on the table, with the remark, " If there is not a card under your hand, I beg your pardon." If I have mistaken Mr. Gladstone's action, if there is no card under his hand, I beg his pardon. All I can say in excuse is that as far as I can hear or read, my impression is the impression of nine out of every ten of those who are spectators of the game. Alexander's courtiers, we are told, considered it criminal to doubt the success of his enterprises ; and so do Mr. Gladstone's. " We will not allow him to be judged by any known standard of political morality," say they; " his conscience is the only standard that we, or he, recognise. It is very elastic, and answers every possible purpose." Therefore, as far as Mr. Gladstone is concerned, we are evidently out of court. But suppose we make the experi- ment on someone else. When Lord Salisbury found that England, Ireland, and Scotland had refused him a majority, suppose he had chalked up Home Rule ? and had openly and without disguise said to Mr. Parnell, " Give me your vote and I will give you Home Rule," would there not have been one universal hiss from one end of the empire to the other, and would not the Radicals have hissed loudest of all ? Of course they would ; I hear them now. There have been famous surgeons amongst us who were so proud of their operations that they never thought much of their patients. So long as they cut off arms and legs with more grace, or more speed than their rivals, they were content ; they never inquired whether the patients lived or died ; and so enthusiastic was the admiration of the students for their skill, that they never told them the fate of the patients. And indeed, if they had, the great operators would not have listened their business was to operate, not to heal. This is the practice of Mr. Gladstone ; his business is to operate, not to cure. He performs a brilliant operation, makes half a dozen splendid speeches, dismembers his patient with extraordinary skill and celerity, and sends him away, whether to live or die is not his business. That is somebody else's business. If the Irish Land Act has proved an absolute failure, if it has satisfied no one, if the land is far worse cultivated than before, if it has become completely unsaleable, if the judicial rents are unpaid, it does not concern him at all. He performed a brilliant operation, that was his part of the business ; if the patient has since died, that is somebody else's business. He is now turning up his sleeves, and preparing for another tremendous operation that must be attended with great danger, and will probably result in death ; but we are assured he is in excellent spirits. Are the hundreds of thousands of Irish Loyalists who look forward to civil war as the inevitable result of his recklessness, are the landowners who will be ruined, also in excellent spirits ? Somehow or other I think I should feel more confidence in the surgeon if I saw some si began it are already being put on one side by the more militant spirits behind them. Mr. Parnell no more leads the Irish Home Rule Party now than Mr. Gladstone leads the English Home Rule Party. Their names, remain, but the lead is in the hands of others. Who the actual leader of the Irish Home Rule party is I don't know, but I think it THE LETTER. is evident to all of us that Mr. Labouchere is the actual leader of the English Home Rule party. What Mr. Labouchere says to-day, Mr. Gladstone says to-morrow. Mr. Labouchere inspires, Mr. Gladstone says ditto ; only unfortunately for us his ditto runs into a volume. And, therefoie, when I wish to make a forecast of the English Home Rule programme, it is Mr. Labouchere's utterances I consult, not those of Mr. Gladstone there is nothing like a quotation. " With fatal and painful precision," said Mr. Gladstone, "the steps of crime dogged the steps of the Land League." "with fatal and painful precision," say I, "the steps of Mr. Gladstone" dog the steps of Mr. Labouchere. It is of no use shutting our eyes to existing facts. It is Mr. Labouchere who now " bosses " the English Home Rule party, not Mr. Gladstone. I believe the country is beginning to realise this at last. Thank heaven !. Mr. Gladstone hopes to return to power ; and possibly he will ; even that is possible in the present state of public opinion ; but when he does it will be on entirely different conditions. " I ask a renewal of your confidence," he will say to the country, " not for what I have said or done during the last 50 years, for everything I have said and done I now acknowledge to have been wrong. For 50 years I have been leading you on the wrong tack, but now I make a fresh departure. I have thrown overboard all my pledges, disproved all my former opinions, swallowed all my principles. I have an absolutely clean slate, and now I ask your confidence for what I may do. I cannot tell you what that will be, because I really don't know ; it does not depend on me, it depends on Mr. Labouchere and the extreme Radicals. Ask him, and I have no doubt he will give you a satisfactory answer." But an entirely fresh departure at four score is a risky affair both for him who leads and for us who follow. We already have a forecast of what this, new departure will be. During the last fortnight we have actually seen the Radical elect invoking the power of Parliament to muzzle the Press ! After this, am I not justified in saying anything is possible ? It is enough to make you " laugh yourself into stitches " to see the very Esau of journalism, whose hand is against every man, even when nobody's hand is against him, turning sharp round, and with sublime audacity denouncing the liberty of the Press ! It is true we have often had reason to wonder at the incongruities of journalism, and ask ourselves where liberty ends and licence begins ? Why one man may steal a horse with impunity and another may be hanged for looking over a gate ? But though we winced we never complained ; but now the liberty of the Press has been carried beyond endurance, and the Radical soul is all on fire. The Tunes has actually ventured to reproduce, and circulated all over the country, the sketches of Mr. Gladstone's new allies as drawn by their own special artists. It is abominable, and, what is worse,. the Times defies them to prove that they are not correct likenesses ; and Mr. Bright laughs at the Radical fury, and in a few English sentences points out that there is still a difference between dignity and impudence in politics, and the public at once recognise the distinction. It is very annoying. But I am really sorry for the Gladstonians ; they are so terribly THE LETTER. sorry for themselves. I never remember a defeated political party taking their disappointment so much to heart, and they are so terribly angry as " They stand aloof, a noisy crowd, Like woman's anger, impudent and loud " scolding and vituperating, denouncing and explaining, and getting laughed at in return, like a man who shows a lady's letters to prove he has been ill-used. They are very angry ; but, indeed, they have reason to be so, it was very disappointing ; everything was ready cut and dried, they had swallowed their principles, eaten dirt enough to ballast a coaster, and Humpty Dumpty had only to mount on the shoulders of the Parnellites to ride in triumph into office ; when at the last moment those infernal Liberal-Unionists Bright, Chamberlain, Hartington, and others actually took it into their heads to indulge in the damnable sin of consistency. And Humpty got a fall, and his triumph is deferred to the Greek Kalends. Could anything be so annoying ? And now the Times has so damaged their new allies in the eyes of the country that they are of very little use to them. Home Rule is no longer a trump card, and they find that they have swallowed their principles and eaten all their dirt for nothing. It is maddening enough to make a saint swear, and the Radical saints can swear like troopers. And to complete their discomfiture the Parnellite juice is getting more and more bitter every day. But there is no escape from it. There they are, and there they must remain, and stew, and stew, and stew till the mess is .done ; and a pretty dish to set before the country it promises to be. 1886. No. XVIII. MR. SPEAKER. THERE is an old proverb that " the Devil knows so much because he is so old." Probably it is true; but if we learn a good deal as we grow old, we certainly unlearn a great deal also. I really believe that when one reaches the critical age of 60, one has had to unlearn almost everything one has learnt. For in- stance, most of us have been educated in the belief that our parliamentary institutions are the most perfect in the civilised world. Well, now we have to unlearn this flattering tale, and to learn, on the other hand, that to-day, in this year of the Jubilee of our gracious Sovereign, our parliamentary institutions are not only the most imperfect in the whole civilised world, but that they actually stand out as a warning to civilised and uncivilised man- kind of what they ought to avoid. I believe it is evident to the whole civilised world that there is not, and never has been, a so- called deliberative assembly so utterly useless for every deliberative purpose as our present House of Commons. Some of us remember an old skit in Punch during the Crimean War. One admiral went to the Baltic to do a great deal, and he didn't do it. Another admi- ral went to the Baltic to do nothing, and he did do it. We have had many Parliaments that have met to do a great deal, and have not done it : and we have had some that have met to do nothing, and have done it ; but we have never had a Parliament that did nothing in such a noisy, offensive, and irritating way as the present one. Inasmuch as many of us believe that over-legislation is a mal du pays, we ought occasionally perhaps to be thankful for a Parliament that does nothing, if it only does it nicely and plea- santly ; but it doesn't. Alas, it is not incapacity that we have to complain of it is bad manners. Our House of Commons is very very like "the little girl, who had a little curl, right down the middle of her forehead, and when she was good she was very, very good, and when she was bad she was 'orrid." The House of Commons has at times been very, very good, but just now it is simply 'orrid. There is no other expression for it. In other Representative Assemblies in France, America, Australia, Mexico, everywhere, in fact members quarrel and call each other bad names, but they incur a certain amount of personal responsibility in indulging in this amusement ; they must either apologise or bear the consequences ; but in our present House of Commons there is apparently no personal responsibility whatever attached to the use of bad words ; members don't apologise; and there are no consequences to bear. They call each other liars, drunkards, cheats, swindlers ; but they are never called upon to make good their words ; and their apologies are often added insults. I don't believe such license of tongue and gesture has ever been witnessed in any deliberative assembly in the world as may be witnessed every night in the House of Com- L MR. SPEAKER. mons. "You are not fit to carry guts to a bear," said Midship- man Easy to the Purser's Steward. " You must apologise, Mr. Easy," says the captain. "Certainly, sir," replies Jack with his usual politeness, " I have much pleasure in saying that you are fit to carry guts to a bear." There is, I believe, no exaggeration in saying that nine-tenths of the so-called apologies in the House of Commons are of the Midshipman Easy type. It is a fact that most of these apologies are even more offensive than the original insult; they are more deliberate and more studied. I have not the honour to be in Parliament, but I am assured by those who have, that the reports in the newspapers give but a very imperfect idea of the actual manners and gestures of these intentional offenders. Now I am not a man of blood, and I have no wish to see duelling re-established; but I swear I believe that very often blood letting is preferable to insult. Duelling was given up in the belief that Society would protect its members from insult ; but if Society neglects to do so, or declines to do so, there can be neither reason nor justice in Society punishing them for protecting themselves. Society allows a man to defend himself from a blow, but is not many an insult as cruel as a blow ? Often a hundred times more so. If the House of Commons does not protect its members from insult, some fine day, or rather, some stormy night, some honourable member will feel it his duty to protect himself, and a good thing too. It will clear the atmosphere at any rate. The House of Commons is composed of 650 individuals, more or less; all honourable men, of course; though, certainly, some are more honourable than others. All gentlemen, of course; though it must allowed some have rather better manners than others. Amongst this unwieldy number there must always be a certain percentage of noisy gentlemen, more or less defiant of control tant soit peu, rowdy, perhaps. There is nothing new in this ; it has always been the case in every House of Commons the rowdy element has always existed in a greater or less degree ; the only difference is that up to this time strict discipline has always been maintained, and the rowdy element kept in order. In former Parliaments not only were individual members more or less protected from gross personal insult, but it was a canon of Parliamentary faith never ignored a point of personal honour, in fact, with the leaders of the different parties in the House at once to sink all party differences, in order to support the dignity and authority of the Chair. A few years ago old Parliamentarians would have thought the end of the world had come if their Speaker had been yelled at and hooted and defied. Never before, never once, for one single instant, has a Speaker of the House of Com- mons been left to the mercy of the rowdy element. Ulysses was- always ready with his club to smite Thersites if he dared to insult the King of Men, in other words, Mr. Speaker ; but alas, this is so no longer. The Speaker is now nightly insulted, denounced, threatened, hooted, and Ulysses does not move his club, but looks on with indifference and his friends with approval. Of course, the Great Word Splitter has declared that there is an immense difference between inciting to crime and complicity with MR SPEAKER. crime, but the ordinary intellect does not appreciate the difference. The man who looks on with indifference or approbation when others are ill-treating an innocent man, is as bad as they are, if not worse -at least that is our ignorant way of reasoning. Again, I ask, why has this great change come over the practice of the House of Commons ? Why do not the leaders still unite heart and hand to defend their Speaker? For a simple reason. Because Ulysses for the time has adopted the role of Thersites ! This is absolutely true, as far as I can understand. Mr. Gladstone does not actually tell the Irish members to pitch the Speaker into the horse-pond ; but he says " really, after his conduct in imposing the closure on me, I cannot say that he would get more than he deserved/' I suppose the fact is becoming evident to everybody that Mr. Gladstone has lost his temper. Inspired persons often do. They are foolish enough to expect the laws of God and man to be altered for their especial convenience, and, unfortunately for them they never are. Of course, it is very annoying to an inspired person to find himself treated like a common man. Last century a certain Joseph Guillotine, a doctor, invented a machine for shortening human bodies, but the machine was not wanted, and no one thanked him for it, and it did a great deal of harm, and by some circumstances over which, I suppose, he had no control, his own vile body was one of the first to be shortened, and he submitted to the operation with some philosophical remarks about the " irony " of Fate. Well, now, a hundred years later, Mr. Gladstone invented a machine for shortening human verbosity. It was much wanted ; everybody thanked him for it, and it has done a great deal of good. But now, unfortunately for him, owing of course to circum- stances over which he has no control, he also finds himself one of the first victims of his own invention. But he has not the philosophy of Joseph Guillotine he will not submit to the operation ; he is furious ; he expostulates, he denounces, and lifts his arms and eyes to heaven in indignant protest. " How dare you, 1 ' says he to the Speaker ; and to the majority, " how dare you apply the closure to me ? Don't you know that it was never meant for me, it was meant for you ! " Poor Mr. Gladstone, certainly it is very ridicu- lous to be hoisted with your own petard, an old Parliamentarian to be choked with his own gag ; but there was no help for it ; there was a majority of 108 against him, and it was done. Perhaps it would have looked better to submit to the inevitable with dignity or, at any rate, with philosophy. But why were Mr. Gladstone and his followers so furious, so indignant at the imposition of the Cloture ? Why ? Does not every one know ? Because they felt it was deserved ! That is what stung them to the quick. " II n'y a que la verite qui blesse." The Speaker is elected by the members of the House of Commons to preside over their debates, to enforce discipline, to hold the scales of justice between the two parties, and to conduct the business of a deliberative assembly ; but unless he is supported firmly, loyally, heartily, de bon cceur, by the leading men in the House he cannot perform the duties of his office. It is impossible. His position becomes absolutely unten- able. How can the master keep order in the school if the ushers MR. SPEAKER. lead the bad boys against him ? One would have supposed that honour, chivalry, manhood, self-respect, the first inspirations of common sense would induce every member of Parliament to support to the utmost of his power, the influence, the dignity, the efficiency of the man he had himself selected to preside over the assembly to which he belonged ; that he would assist him to make his work as easy as possible, instead of thwarting him in every way, and apparently driving him into his grave. The Liberal party selected the present Speaker, a Liberal, a man of high dignity, of refined manners, of unimpeachable conduct, the pick of the House of Commons ; and now the Liberal party, the men who elected him, sit still, see him night after night grossly insulted, and actually pat Thersites on the back ! If this is the chivalry of English gentlemen in this year of Grace 1887, then indeed, as far as we are concerned, " the age of chivalry is dead." Note this fact, you English gentlemen who stand forward as representing the English nation : you treat your Speaker, whom you have yourselves elected, who not one of you dare say in your heart is not doing his duty to the very best of his powers and (though he does not parade it so much as some of you do) of his conscience, witli less confidence and respect than the very dregs of society treat the judge on a racecourse. The list men, the roughs, the mob do not elect the judge. Sometimes he is wrong, sometimes they disagree with his decisions, and lose then- money, but never, never has the judge been hooted, or veiled at, or insulted for a decision he has given on a racecourse as the Speaker has been hooted for a decision he has given in the House of Com- mons. Imagine Mr. Steel, or the leading bookmakers assembling round the judge's chair after a race and yelling at him, and hooting him, and threatening him, because he gave a verdict against their favourite ! But this is actually what the leading political book- makers, who are now playing double or quits with the integrity of the United Kingdom, are nightly doing to the Speaker of the House of Commons. In the race between Closure and Obstruc- tion, the Speaker has decided in favour of Closure, and the owner and backers of Obstruction denounce and hoot him. But is this the way to get Home Rule ? I don't believe it is ; on the contrary, I believe it has for the present, at any rate, made it impossible. The British public are not quite such fools as they look ; and when they see the advocates of Home Rule insulting the Speaker, turn- ing Parliament into a bear garden, obstructing all legislation, con- doning outrages, endorsing the " plan of campaign," denouncing English judges and English juries, appealing for assistance to foreigners and to the bitter and avowed enemies of our country they may say, " after all, the policy that requires such very impure advocacy as this must be tainted in itself. Perhaps we had better wait till it comes before us in a more respectable shape, and with more responsible sponsors." The position is becoming very critical ; there is no doubt of it. The question must soon arise which is to .be suspended the Irish members, or the House of Commons. 1886. No. XIX. THE OLD COPY BOOK AND THE NEW. THE Schoolmaster is abroad. Day by clay, hour by hour, the morals and ethics of our public schools are being remodelled to meet our changing requirements. Of course the great public school of St. Stephen's has taken the lead. A comparison of the old copy book formerly used in that establishment with the new one lately introduced may prove interesting to your readers. Manners make the man, Manners mar the politician. Honesty is the best policy, Honesty is no policy at all. Look before you leap, Leap before you look. Call a spade a spade, Call a spade a shovel. Sentiment is a dangerous guide, Sentiment is the only safe guide. Tell the truth and shame the Devil Tell a lie and stick to it. Union is strength. Union is weakness. Reason should control passion. Passion should control reason. My country, right or wrong. My country is always in the wrong. Do evil that good may come. Do evil that worse may come. Virtue nourishes the wise. Virtue is the pap of fools. Consistency is admirable. Consistency is detestable. Set a thief to catch a thief. Set a thief to catch an honest man. THE OLD COPY BOOK AND THE NEW. The liberty of the Press is the people's right. The liberty of the Press is the patriot's wrong. The withy strengthens the bundle. The withy weakens the bundle. Who goes slowly goes safely. Who goes slowly is a fool. You want a long spoon to eat with the Devil. You want no spoon at all to eat with the Devil. Judges are just. Judges are rogues. Juries are honest and dull. Juries are dull and dishonest. The majority rules. The minority rules. Still waters are deep. Still waters are often shallow. Silence is golden. Verbosity is a Bank note. Don't put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day Forget to-day what you did yesterday. Age brings counsel. Age defies counsel. 1886. No. XX. THE CANDID FRIEND. MR. GLADSTONE, who can " add colours to the chameleon, change shapes with Proteus," is everything by turns, and nothing long', is now starring it in the character of the Candid Friend. " But of all plagues, good heaven, thy wrath can send, Save, save, oh, save me from the Candid Friend." Wales saw the C. F. in the best possible form. " There is my friend, Lord Lansdowne," he said. (A hiss from a boy in the crowd). " Oh, I see," says the C. F., pricking his ears, " many of you think he is black, very black, and no doubt you have reason. For my part I try to think he is not so black as he is painted at least, not quite so black ; but I may be mistaken, and pray understand I have not a word to say against Mr. O'Brien, who went to Canada to blackguard him, or against those who paint him blacker than the Author of Evil himself. I respect every man's opinion, especially when it agrees with my own. But I did not come here to defend Lord Lansdowne," continues the Candid Friend, "I came here to denounce England, to denounce Parliamentary England," (the same little boy hisses), " I am not surprised," says the Candid Friend, again pricking his ears, " at that universal shout of execra- tion against that wicked country. For 700 years England has been trampling Ireland under foot. For 700 years mismanagement, ill- treatment, and national crime have been gnawing at the life of that interesting people. The treatment of Lombardy by the Austrians, of Naples by " Bomba," of Bulgaria by Turkey, was benevolent com- pared to the treatment of Ireland by England. " It is not you alone" (turning passionately to the boy who hissed, who gets rather frightened and tries to bolt) " who denounce her dark, narrow, obstructive, retrogressive" (it sounds like the description of a garret staircase turned upside down) " policy the whole civilised world, Russia, Turkey, France, Germany, Spain, America execrate it ; and not only the civilised but the uncivilised world also the Red Indian from the great prairie, the fierce Moplas, the timid Tamuls, the chaste Todas of our Indian Empire, the Esquimaux from the regions of perpetual cold, and the Bushmen from the regions of perpetual dirt, each in their different dialects execrate Parliamentary England. But the execrations of England are not restricted to the general denunciations of outraged nationalities. Those noble men of letters, Herve, Huertas, Ferrand, Flache, Beaumont, Ferry the great French Minister, Casanova the great Venetian moralist, equally execrate its abominations. Is it possible that any nation, however powerful, any people, however proud, can withstand the universal execration of mankind ? Do you mean to tell me that against the authority of these illustrious foreigners the quibbles of such Englishmen as John Bright, Lubbock, Leckie, Hartington, THE CANDID FRIEND. Chamberlain, Argyll, James, Salisbury, Selborne, Tennyson, Tyndall, Goldwin Smith, can be listened to for one moment ? Certainly not. For 60 years France has loved England ! " (Ye Gods!) " Are her wishes to be ignored ? America, so I am told, has a far greater interest in the Irish Question than England has. Is she not to be listened to ? Does any one mean to tell me that these great, these friendly nations are to be put on one side, and that England is to be permitted to manage her domestic affairs against their expressed wishes ! No, indeed ! Perish England sooner than such an outrage on international duty, such an insult to me should be tolerated. " But, my friends, be of good cheer. This wretched England, this unclean thing that I am doing my best to hold up to the execration of the world, is, thanks to my unwearied efforts, divided against itself. Not only are Scotland, Wales, and Ireland against England, but England is against ' Parliamentary ' England. York- shire is against England, and not only Yorkshire, but the Isle of Man, and Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, and Sark, and the town of Berwick-on-Tweed. It is impossible that Parliamentary England can be allowed any longer to govern England. England must be disfranchished. You must have a Parliament of Irishmen, Scotch- men and Welshmen ; and then indeed I shall be supreme, and everything will go right." Now, I declare this is scarcely any exaggeration of the tone of Mr. Gladstones Welsh speeches. Anyone so disposed may find in them authority, ample authority, for everything I have said. It reads like a silly joke ; but it isn't. It is the deliberate advice of Eng- land's greatest statesman ! If one-hundreth part of what this Candid Friend says of his country is true, dynamite, the knife, vitriol, boiling water, the fate of the Cities of the Plain, would be too good for her. This is the only time I have ever regretted Mr. Gladstone leaving the stump. He was getting on so splendidly. His exaggerations, his misrepresentations, his vindictive incivism were rapidly making his utterances stink in the nostrils of all sen- sible men. He hoped to leave a picture of England that would outrage the world, whereas he has left a picture of himself, with the inscription "This is the Englishman who has spoken most ill of his country." But even the Candid Friend should be moderately truthful. Truth, the more disagreeable the better, of course, is his keenest weapon. Now, Mr. Gladstone, speaking at Aberdeen on September 26, 1871, said : "You would expect, when it is said that the Imperial Parliament is to be broken up, that at the very least, a case should be made out showing that there are great subjects of policy, and great demands necessary for the welfare of Ireland which the representatives of Ireland had united to ask, and which the representatives of England, Scotland, and Wales had united to refuse. There is no such grievance. There is nothing that Ireland has asked that this country and this Parliament have refused. Parliament has done for Ireland what it would have scrupled to do for England and Scotland." On June the 3rd, 1887, 16 years later, Mr. Gladstone, speaking in Wales, said : " But there is one spot in this Empire where, THE CANDID FRIEND. unfortunately, owing to ill-treatment, mismanagement, and, I must say, national crime, continued through a long series of years, the hearts of the people do not stand in that relation to the rest of the United Kingdom, on which it is desirable it should be placed." Now, ten thousand Mr. Gladstones cannot make both these state- ments true. One must be false, and is damnably false. If it is true Ireland had no grievance against England in 187 1, how can she possibly have a grievance against England in 1887, when for 16 years she had been incessantly doing for her what she would have scrupled to do for England and Scotland ? What becomes of his 700 years of tyranny, of national crime continued through a long series of years ? There is no use in mincing words. Both state- ments cannot be true. Either the statement of 1871 or the state- ment of 1887 is false. "Out of thine own mouth I will condemn thee, thou . . . ." Perhaps I had better not complete the quota- tion. Why does Mr. Gladstone tell such contradictory stories in 1871 and in 1887 ? Why? Is not the reason pretty plain ? In 187 1 he was speaking to the people of England and Scotland, and asking them to strengthen his hand to maintain the United Kingdom. In 1887 he was speaking over the heads of the English and Scotch people to the dynamite and murder associations of America, to the fierce enemies of England wherever they exist, to strengthen his hands to break up the United Kindom. Of course, as his aims were inverted, so were his arguments. Will Mr. Gladstone name one, only one, to use his own words, "great subject of policy," only one " great demand necessary for the welfare of Ireland, that the representatives of Ireland had united to ask and which the representatives of England had united to refuse ? " Has the Parliament of England declined to do for Ireland any one thing that an Irish Parliament ought to do for her ? No, it has not. Every one knows that Mr. Gladstone has changed his mind on the question of Home Rule, and now he is swearing by all his gods that he has not changed it one little bit. How silly it is. Why shouldn't the chameleon change his colours, or Proteus his form ? Is it their nature to. Three years ago the needle was pointing due south ; now it is pointing due north. " Certainly it is," says Mr. Gladstone, "but it is not the needle that has shifted, it is the points of the compass that have gone round. It is not I that have changed, it is Home Rule." But is thy servant a dog, that he should lick up such trash as that ? It is rumoured that Mr. Gladstone's passionate appeal to foreign nations is intended to pave the way for a Conference, at which England is to appear at the bar of civilised and uncivilised mankind, to justify her treat- ment of Ireland. Is this his idea of " peace with honour ? " and, alas ! can it be true that there are Englishmen ready to support him in it ? When Mr. Gladstone invites Americans to come over and strengthen his hand to break up the United Kingdon, I wonder if he realises what would have happened to him if he had gone to America to try and strengthen the hands of the Secessionists to break up the United States ? What would they have done with him ? Tarred and feathered him, and set him on a rail ; nothing more. I was once THE CANDID FRIEND. staying next door to an old gentleman who was subject to attacks of destructiveness, and one day when he was particularly violent I asked the maid what was the matter. Oh, it's only the old gentle- man at it again," she said ; " he's a' been and broke almost every- thing in the house, and now he's smashed his own windows. But I don't think it will last long ; the neighbours are getting sick of it, and will call in the police." Well, this appears to be the case with another old gentleman who is subject to destructive mania. He has made a cockshye of judge, jury, Speakers, Church, Press, the United Kingdom, and now he is actully pelting " Parliamentary England," his own father. But are there not signs that the neigh- bours are getting sick of it and will soon call in the police ? I think there are. 1886. No. XXI. WHITE-WASHING. " r I ''HE Times letter is an infamous forgery," says Mr. Gladstone X to Mr. Parnell. " Your duty to yourself, your duty to the party of which you are such a distinguished leader, your duty to those allies who are now stewing in your juice above all, your duty to this House forbids you to take any notice of it." Of course, of course, shout the Tritons of the Radical Party, and the minnows, as usual, bow their heads and murmur (I am not learned in fish language), " It is the voice of a god, not of a man." But suppose the Times had made a similar charge against Colonel Saunderson, or Mr. King-Harman, or even Lord Randolph Churchill, don't we know how the old " Parliamentary hand " would have taken it up ? Of course, we do we can hear his burning words and see his passionate gestures. Of course, he would say, " I know that this charge is a malicious forgery ; that it has no foundation in fact ; but I am sure I am speaking not only my own convictions, but also the convictions of every member on this side of the House, when I say that the honourable member owes it to himself, owes it to the party of which he is such a distinguished member, owes it to those on this side of the House who exchange with him the courtesies (?) of debate, and, above all owes it to you, sir, to scatter to the winds the vile accusations which he can no doubt immediately disprove and bring to the bar of retributive justice the vile and calumnious slanderers who have published it. Had this been simply the charge of an anonymous correspondent I should have been the first to advise the honourable gentleman to take no notice of it ; but I cannot conceal from myself that this accusation comes before us with an authority and a completeness that compels immediate notice. The editor and proprietor, and the entire staff of the most powerful, the most responsible, the most cautious, the widest read, the wealthiest journal in the country, have staked their honour, their property, their very existence, on the truth of this charge. Therefore, I say again," &c, We all know what Mr. Gladstone would have said : and again the minnows would have bowed their heads and murmured, "It is the voice of a god, not of a man." But suppose this letter had appeared when Mr. Gladstone was denouncing Mr. Parnell, as " steeped in treason to the very lips ; " when he declared that crime yes, crime was the word dogged the steps of the Land League, of which Mr. Parnell was the head ; when the Phoenix Park still smelt of blood ; when Sir William Harcourt was forcing through Parliament the crushing clauses of his Crimes Act, when Lord Spencer's life was in hourly danger; when Mr. Forster charged Mr. Parnell in the House of Commons, as Cicero charged Catiline in the Senate, with complicity with crime, would the tritons and the minnows have denounced it then as a malicious forgery ? Would they then have entreated Mr. Parnell to take no notice of it ? WHITEWASHING. Would they not rather have flung it in his teeth, and said, Disprove it if you can ? Of course they would. Every human being knows that. Mr. Parnell's declaration that this letter is a base forgery of course carries great weight, for he knows the truth ; but I put it to every man of sense whether Mr. Gladstone's declaration that it is a forgery is worth more than the declaration of the boy in the street that it is genuine, unless he has examined the evidence. Everybody can see that just now Mr. Gladstone has far greater interest in maintaining the letter to be false than even Mr. Parnell himself. He and his followers are going through the agreeable process of what Sir William Harcourt so appropriately described as " Stewing in the Parnellite juice," and if the juice proves to be poisoned, if the connection between Parnellism and crime remains uncontradicted, the pot may boil over, and he will scald his fingers. Mr. Gladstone is furious with the Times for these untimely and exceedingly inconvenient publications ; but he seems to forget that nearly all the Times statements that connect Parnellism with crime are collated from the Parnellite prints themselves. It is, indeed, Mr. Parnell's own familiar friends in whom he trusted, who did eat of his bread, who have lifted the heel against him. If these statements are false it is the printers and editors of the Home Rule papers in Ireland and America who are responsible, not the printer and editor of the Times. The publication of the articles on " Parnellism and Crime" was, in sporting parlance, a " staggerer" to the Gladstonians, their ranks were almost threatened with a stampede. It shocked the public conscience; no one could disprove it. But happy thought ! Sir William Harcourt and Lord Spencer "Arcades ambo, et cantare, pares, et respondere parati." " Arcadians both, and both alike inspired, To sing and answer as the song required " Suddenly and simultaneously bethought themselves of " official information." They both declared that their official information enabled them to state that there never was any connection between Parnellism and crime. This certainly was a staggerer to the Unionists, and when one remembers what these Ministers have said and done about Parnellism and crime during the last five years, all one can do is to throw up one's arms in astonishment, and, like Dominie Sampson, exclaim " Prodigious ! " But does not this white- washing come a little late in the day ? does not the " et cantare pares et respondere parati saute aux yeux " a little too plainly ? It is almost a pity they did not realise Mr. Parnell's state of innocence before they charged him with being " steeped in treason to the very lips," and cast him into prison without trial. Such severe chastening of one they loved was certainly rather contradictory. Well might he exclaim, who knew the love they bore him : " It's all very well to dissemble your love, But why did you kick me down stairs ? " Mr. Gladstone's unequalled volte face on this Irish Question would be almost comical if it was not so audaciously immoral, and if it had not completely annihilated all faith and confidence in the WHITE-WASHING. pledges and principles of public men for a generation at least. His former attidude towards Home Rule we remember only too well, but perhaps his present attitude is scarcely yet realised. I hope I shall not over-state it. " Dear bhoys," he says, " Hiberniores Hibernis '' he is now even more Irish than the Irishmen themselves, and the Irish jig comes as natural to him as the Highland Fling " two years ago we were pulling in different boats. We were then in office, responsible for the public safety, at war with the Land League, and, for some reason or other which you probably understand better than I do, in considerable danger of our lives. Now that is all reversed ; we are now in Opposition ; we are now in a position of perfect freedom and absolute irresponsibility. We now support the Land League. It is now our political opponents who are in danger of their lives, not we ; and naturally our views of crime and outrage have changed very much. Three years ago, owing to some extraordinary combination of circumstances over which I had no control, I found myself pulling in the same boat with the Tories against you. Now, thank heaven, that is reversed. You and I are both pulling in the same boat against the Tories. Things move quickly in these days. I can scarcely believe that only three years ago I was a Unionist, so completely am I now body and soul a Separationist. I have not, indeed, a grain of Unionism left in me. I suppose nobody will ever know what I have suffered ; I can scarcely realise it myself. For 15 years I have been a Home Ruler at heart, and for 15 years I have worn the iron mask of Unionism. During the greater part of those 15 years I have been in office, and have done nothing for the cause I have now so much at heart thank Heaven, this is over, the mask is removed. Liberari animiim meum, I have emancipated myself, and am now as good a Fenian as Mr. Davitt. There is no longer a pin's head between us. Your views are in every sense my views, your interests are my interests, your ways are my ways. You wish to see Ireland, Scotland and Wales (don't forget gallant little Wales, I have a pecuniary interest in her) freed from the blighting dominance of England ; so do I. You wish to see India and the Colonies independent; so do I. You wish to see me in power; so do I. Your ' plan of campaign ' is now my ' plan of campaign.' We see no particular harm in shaving a girl's head and covering it with pitch. No doubt it has been done before. We look upon boycotting as a very justifiable expression of the wish of the majority. We see no objection whatever to your appointing agents to collect the landlord's rents. We think, perhaps, for the present shooting in the legs should be avoided as much as possible. Some foolish prejudices still linger with some of us, but we quite agree that a man who takes a farm from which another has been evicted should be treated as a leper. What shocked us three years ago does not shock us now. We have at last realised the important fact that 3-011 can't make an omelette without breaking eggs, and that the chapel bell must be kept ringing. Gladstonians and Parnellites are now one, we are bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh, and, what constitutes a much closer bond of interest, we are stewing in the same juice ; therefore 3'ou must consider our interests as 3'ou would 3'our own. You must not, WHITEWASHING. dear bhoys you must not indeed -let your sensitive natures and your chivalrous sense of honour induce you to fall into the pit that that rascally Times has dug for you. ' If my tenants think that by shooting my agents they will frighten me they are very much mistaken,' said an absentee Irish Landlord ; and if the Tories think that by connecting Parnellism with crime they will frighten us from making use of the Parnellite vote they were never more mistaken. Though every statement in the Times was proved in a court of law to-morrow, and Mr. Parnell stood on the drop with the rope round his neck, we should still swear he was innocent as the babe unborn, and should make use of his 86 votes. We want the Parnellite vote for other purposes than breaking up the United Kingdom, and having got it and paid for it we shall keep it at any price. Of course during the last five years we have both done many things that were better left undone, and said many things that were better left unsaid ; there were faults on both sides, and as you have not changed your opinions, and as we have entirely changed ours we are compelled to admit that in all probability our faults were greater than yours. In the heat of the Phoenix Park disaster no doubt some of you may have written letters that may bear a doubtful meaning, and these, if published, might prove awkward to you and to us. Don't, I beg of you, try to deny or disprove anything ; content yourself with a simple non mi ricordo it has been my motto through life, and has never failed me and refer to Sir William Harcourt and Lord Spencer don't apply to Sir George Trevelyan, he is not yet quite to be trusted for another coat of ' official white-wash.' " 1886. No. XXII. TROP DE ZELE. WHAT a nuisance too much zeal is. It is the pit-fall of common sense. Wherever it intrudes in public life it stops the way. It is always mistaken. There is not a case on record of its doing any good, but the list of its victims is as long as Leporello's. It repels the strong and attracts the weak, and un- fortunately the weak are the most numerous. No nation in the world has suffered so much in character and pocket from trop de zele as we have. It is no exaggeration to say that it has been at the bottom of nine-tenths of our misfortunes. Trop de zele is responsible for the folly crime I consider it of repealing the Contagious Diseases Act, for the better observance of the Sabbath, for closing museums and picture galleries, and opening public- houses on Sunday. It has given us the Salvation Army. It has converted the temperance movement into a tyranny. It has rammed Free Trade down the throat of common sense, and now too much zeal has induced Mr. Gladstone to coquet with the Clan-na-Gael, and his Radical friends to propose a " Plan of Campaign " in Ireland that, if adopted, must end in chaos. Will no patent medicine mitigate this obstinate complaint ? Are Eno, Beecham, Holloway, and the once renowned Morison helpless to assist us ? The disease is curable it is only wordy flatulence ! The most irritating part of the complaint is that it is simply an hysterical one, entirely on the nerves. We all feel how absurd it is to give way to it ; that with a little determination we could over- come it ; but we don't : knowing perfectly well that trop de zele is fatal to truth, honesty, common sense, we go on acclaiming it as a virtue. In 99 cases out of 100 it is mere acting, and the best actor is the most mischievous zealot, because he imposes on the greatest number of the feeble folk. The earnestness, the passion, the intensity that simmers up, and boils over, equally at the greatest events and at the most insignificant. " When now a sparrow falls and now a world " are all acting ; bless your simplicity ! why, that impassioned orator cares no more for the sparrow than you do, and he only cares for the world in so far as it affects himself. Of course it must be so. If a hundredth part of the zeal and passion that we witness was genuine, cases of spontaneous combustion, like that of the lamented Mrs. Faithful, would be quite common. No human clay that ever was kneaded could long bear such fierce internal fires. But now for our English Rochefort and his " Plan of Campaign " trop de zele with a vengeance. Radicals are said to be a kind hearted breed who love to do good by stealth. It may be true. What certainly is true is that some of them don't blush to preach wrong with startling audacity. The Irish people are sick, and the Radical doctors have prescribed a remedy, but, as so often happens, the cure threatens to be worse than the disease. The Irish are in TROP DE ZELE. an exceedingly inflammable state, like political tinder, and the cure recommended is to pitch a box of lucifer matches amongst them, with the certainty that some of them will be burnt, probably the wrong ones. This certainly looks like trying to cure disease by death. " You are to treat the scoundrel who profits by your eviction like a loathsome leper," says the Radical Doctor, which to my mind is tantamount to saying, " Shoot the scoundrel who evicts you." Under certain circumstances this advice might be very effective. The aggrieved tenant would treat the interloper like a loathsome leper, shoot the landlord, and keep the farm ; but unfortunately the law in Ireland still holds that shooting a landlord is murder. Of course in the good time coming such a glaring instance of class legislation will be remedied ; but we must deal with things as they are, not as they ought to be, and just now, such is the tyranny and injustice of our Saxon laws, that the tenant who shoots the land- lord has just as good a chance of being hung as the landlord who shoots the tenant. This Radical remedy for Irish discontent is a general one. The doctors make no exception, so of course the more general the application of the remedy the more widespread the benefit. Well, there are in Ireland about 450,000 tenants, and about 18,000 landowners ; about 25 tenants to each landlord. Now, this discrepancy between landlords and tenants appears to be the only real difficulty in the way of this perfect cure. If there were as many landlords as tenants it would act splendidly; every landlord would be shot, and every tenant would be hanged for shooting him, and in time the land would get really cleared and return to prairie value. But the landlords are so tiresome absent or present they are always in the wrong confound them. When they, are not wanted for any useful purpose we are told there are too many of them ; and now, when they really might be of great use in promot- ing the Radical cure, we are told there are not enough of them. There are not enough landlords to give each evicted tenant a shot ; and the position of the evicted tenant who had not got his landlord to shoot would be as harrowing as that of the poor lion in the picture, that had not got his martyr. In surgery the "radical cure " sometimes means the attempt to escape a natural death by an artificial one. This seems to be the nature of the radical cure offered to Ireland. It requires three conditions to justify it. First the landlord must be a tyrant ; secondly, the evicted tenant must be hardworking and honest ; thirdly, the interloper must be a scoundrel ! But supposing neither of these conditions exist, is the Radical cure still justifiable ? And it is a fact that exactly the opposite conditions do exist. The fierce light of publicity has been blazing on the heads of the landlords and tenants for several years, and I really believe we now know all about them. We know now, as well as we know anything, that the great majority of landlords in Ireland of course there are wretched exceptions are as reasonable, as long-suffering, as any class who lend all over the world, and that the tenants are as good as any class who borrow all over the world. Tenants are of all sorts some are honest, some are dishonest ; some are honest by choice, some are honest TROP DE ZELE. by compulsion, and vice versa. The landlord lends his land on contract ; the business man lends his money on contract, and we all know the latter will be quite as keen to exact his pound of flesh as the former. What, pray, would the London banker or the man of business say if political agitators went round to his clients, to whom he had lent money, and said, " Don't pay that damned usurer ; he is charging you too much interest ; pay half of it to me instead, and I will give you a receipt." What would they say, I ask ; and there is actually no moral difference whatever between the man who lends his land on contract and the man who lends his money on contract. The distinction that is drawn by political agitators for political purposes is a sham. The strange story is that we actually see men who live by lending money, and who would be mad if the contract on which they lend it was violated, advising and excusing the repudiation of the contract of those who lend their land. The distinction is so sham, so dishonest, so evidently selfish, it makes one sick. Except for the purpose of intensifying class hatred, I don't suppose any one is fool enough to maintain that landlords exist for the pleasure of evicting. We are gravely told that till evictions cease in Ireland no English legisla- tion of any kind can be tolerated. What nonsense ! Why, evictions are not confined to Ireland. It is a fact that more evictions take place in London in one month than take place in the whole of Ireland in a year. More bankruptcies are caused by those who lend money in England in a day than by those who lend land in Ireland in a year. On September 20, 187 1, Mr. Gladstone said at Aberdeen, " There is nothing that Ireland has asked that this country, and this Parliament, have refused. Parliament has done for Ireland what it would have scrupled to do for England and Scotland." Since those words were spoken, those assurances given, the English Parliament has done a great deal more for Ireland more, a great deal, than the most sanguine Irishman ever thought it possible an English Parliament would do, or even be asked to do and if Mr. Gladstone's words are true, and it is a fact that Parliament has done for Ireland what it would have scrupled to do for England and Scotland, it is England and Scotland that are in arrear, not Ireland. Before the Imperial Parliament is asked to do more for Ireland let it overcome what Mr. Gladstone calls " its scruples," and do for England and Scotland what it has already done for Ireland. Why are England and Scotland London, Glasgow, Manchester, and Birmingham to be put entirely on one side for Ireland ? There is no reason, except that unscrupulous politicians can make capital out of the one and cannot out of the other. In the 4,500,000 who crowd round London there are more evictions, more deaths from starvation, more want, misery, than amongst the 4,500,000 who inhabit Ireland 10 times more, 20 times more. Why has not London as good a right to consideration as Ireland ? Let us look at evictions in Ireland and evictions in London, and see where the shoe pinches most. In London a man pays 3s. 6d. a week for a wretched room in a pauper warren, with four bare walls, and if at the end of his week his 3s. 6d. is not paid he and his family are turned into the street, and his stock of M TROP DE ZELE. furniture is sold. This 3s. 6d. a week gives him shelter, but nothing else. It gives him nothing no employment, or the means of earn- ing a penny. In Ireland, for 3s. 6d. a week a man gets perhaps three acres of land and a cottage, or a hovel or shelter of some kind, perhaps a patch of garden, perhaps a pig-stye. If he is inclined to work, and be industrious, he can manage to produce a good deal towards the support of his family. For his 3s. 6d. he gets employment. He can work 10 hours a clay if he likes at his three acres, and it will pay him well if he does. His rent is not required of him every week, but every six months or 12 months, and he is not turned out, and his pig sold, and his little property seized the instant he is in arrears. He is allowed to go on for a year, or two' perhaps, sometimes even five years, before his little holding is required of him. Not only is the land lent him, but the produce of the land, for six or twelve months before he is asked to pay a shilling. Rents in London, in proportion for what you get, are ten, twenty, fifty times more grinding and oppressive than rents in Ireland, and yet we are urged to leave alone the frightful misery that prevails in England in order to advance the comparative prosperity that exists in Ireland ! Why is the man who succeeds an evicted tenant in Ireland to be treated as a loathsome leper any more than the man who succeeds an evicted tenant in London ? Why is the landlord who for just cause evicts from his 3s. 6d. tenement in Ireland to be shot, any more than the landlord who evicts from his 3s. 6d. room in a pauper warren in London ? Is the latter more generous, more considerate ? Does he give greater value for his rent ? Does he allow the poor wretch who can't pay, who can't get work, to remain on till he can ? Not he. No arrears here. No hanging gale. No part payment. Your money or the street. No other option. I repeat, there are more evictions in London in a month, and more miseries attending them, than in the whole of Ireland in a year. What sham, nonsense, hypocrisy the whole cry is ! And worse still, that an ex-Prime Minister of England should give his authority to such a shameful deceit. It is a fact, believe it who like, that in not one single point, not one, has Ireland any right or any claim to priority of legislation over England or Scotland. The great gulf between rich and poor is broader and deeper in England than in Ireland ; the extremes of wealth and poverty are greater and more emphasised. Parliament has done more for Ireland than for England and Scotland. Is it likely that England and Scotland will long waive their just rights in order that selfish politicians may make more capital '? Pauperism, starvation, sickness, drunkenness, vice, these are the subjects that should first command the attention of a civilised or civilising Government. Well, all these, alas, are more grievous, more inten- sified in England than in Ireland. For several years Ireland has had almost a monopoly of legislation. Do what we can for her she will not be remedied. It is time she should stand on one side for a time and let the other portions of the Empire have their turn. The laws in Ireland are in no degree whatever worse than the laws in England. Ireland is as free and independent as any part of the United Kingdom. Only once has the Habeas Corpus Act been TROP DE ZELE. suspended, and that was by Mr. Gladstone. The Irish leave the country not because the laws are unjust, but because there is no work to do. If the mountain won't go to Mahomed, Mahomed must go to the mountain. If employment won't go to the Irish, the Irish must go to the employment ; and this is what is happening. It is certain and inevitable, and the effect must continue as long as the cause exists. Give Ireland remunerative industries, give her people remunerative work at home, and they will return to their country, and Ireland will be prosperous ; but without remunerative industries she can never rise above pauperism. Simple agriculture, living from hand to mouth, is a condition of pauperism, unless com- bined with sale and barter and remunerative industries. It is not the English laws, it is not the landlords, it is not the Roman Catholic religion, it is not the Protestant religion that has impoverished Ireland it is Free Trade. There is no more doubt of that than that I am writing this line at this moment. Too much zeal, too much zeal, that is what has brought a deadly sickness on Ireland ; and if continued in the same direction, must cause her death. The obstinate, short-sighted, exaggerated zeal of our political economists, who have forced foreign competition on a patient perfectly unfitted to bear it, has destroyed all the industries of Ireland, and inflicted on her " La plaie la plus devorante " the curse of chronic and increasing poverty. Free Trade, English and foreign competition, are bleeding Ireland to death, but the Free Trade doctors are inexorable. " My mission is to bleed and purge," said Dr. Sangrado, " if the patient dies so much the worse for him, I have the satisfaction of knowing he has died under the only perfect medical treatment in the world." My mission is to force Free Trade on the Irish, say the Free Trade Sangrados, if the patient dies so much the worse for him, we have the comfort of knowing that he has died under the only perfect system of political economy in the word. Is not this trop de zele ? 1886. No. XXIII. CONJURING. THE Chinese don't believe women have souls. "Dearmc," said a mandarin, when he first heard a Christian missionary announce the equality of the sexes in this particular ; " I must go home and tell my wife. She will be immensely amused to hear she has got a soul." And so perhaps many of us will be immensely amused to hear that Providence interferes in general elections ; but such it appears is the case. Mr. Gladstone had scarcely advanced thirty miles on his journey to Midlothian when he invoked God's blessing on his approaching efforts to bring a good thumping Radical majority under his umbrella. But supposing Lord Salisbury also invokes Divine support for the Conservative umbrella, it will be very awkward. It will be like the rival Popes at Rome and Avignon, each blessing his own flock and cursing the flock of his opponent one clergyman praying for rain to swell his turnips and his neighbour praying for fine weather to save his crops. Certainly it does appear at first sight rather a mauvaise plaisanterie to invoke the support of the Almighty for the disestablishment of the Church and the removal of your neighbour's landmark, which as yet are the only distinct planks in the Radical platform. But I suppose it is all right? It looks like chaos ; but it is in truth the " dawn of the Radical creation," that is all. We have yet to see what exact form Mr. Gladstone's great apologia to the electors of Midlothian for five years of misgovernment, pledges broken, treasure wasted for blood-guiltiness and red ruin will take. Will he risk the publican's cry, " God, be merciful to me, a sinner," or will he, with the Pharisee, say, " God, I thank Thee I am not as other men are that wicked Beaconsfield, that odious Salisbury, that horrid Churchill, or even that good Iddesleigh ! " I think there is little doubt which form of prayer he will adopt at any rate he has begun well, for he already assumes that Providence is on his side. Of course Mr. Gladstone must be allowed a good deal of licence in this matter. His vanity has been seriously hurt, and he is naturally very sore. He is just now an example of "Les plus ruses sont les premieres pris." He is without any doubt le plus ruse, the most cunning party leader this country has ever seen, and he is in the ridiculous position of being the victim of his own ruse. When he threw up the sponge six months ago with a majority of 70, it was a ruse to strengthen his hand. He never for a moment expected that the country would part with him ; he expected the mere thought of resignation would bring the Frondeurs to their marrow bones, and that he would be called back by the unanimous voice of the nation. But he was not ; and now his rival has had an opportunity of showing the public that it is no loser by the change. It is gall and wormwood to the Radicals to see a Conservative Minister so well armed at all points that they cannot pierce a joint in his armour. Anything but this. CONJURING. Welcome misgovernment under Mr. Gladstone ; welcome a revolution under Mr. Parnell ; but good government under Lord Salisbury God forbid ! Leaving Providence alone, what is the position now ? The electoral fair is nearly over ; and indeed it is time the performers have swallowed their knives and eaten their balls of fire, produced endless reams of paper from their mouths, the clowns have shouted at each other and grinned through horse collars till both they and their spectators are tired. Even the exciting " twopence more and up goes the donkey " fails to attract. The fun of the fair is over, and the public are only waiting to see the great conjuror perform his well-known trick of turning black into white and white into black before they go home, fatigued if not satisfied. It is his one trick. Nobody can approach him in it ; for 50 years he has been performing it in public and private, till practice has made him perfect. It never fails to draw, and indeed it is worth seeing, and when the performer steps into the ring with his conjuring bag and his umbrella (conjurors always have a bag and an umbrella), there is always more or less of a sensation. Ladies and gentlemen, says the master, if you will allow me, I will now show you my great trick of turning black into white and white into black. Here is a pack of cards. Some, you see, are white, some are black. Now, if you will carefully watch these cards, you will see that as I am addressing you the black cards will gradually assume a paler hue, and the white cards will assume a darker hue, till by degrees the cards that were quite white will actually appear quite black, and the cards that were quite black will actually appear quite white. Here, ladies and gentlemen, are several cards " Budget of ;too,ooo,ooo," " Bombardment of Alexandria," " Slaughter of 30,000 Arabs," "Desertion and Death of Gordon," that now appear to you to be quite black. If you will only watch them, and listen to me, you will see them all become as white as snow. And here is one card, " Six months of Conservative Administration," that appears to you now quite white ; only keep your eye on it, and you will soon see I will make it appear as black as soot. It is very simple, I assure you- no deception ; only the gift of the gab, nothing else. And sure enough the trick will be done before our very eyes, and none of us can tell how. I don't agree with Sidney Smith that the Scotch are slow at taking a joke. On the contrary, I think their wit is as pungent as their snuff. But even those who have never appreciated a joke before must see something very funny in Mr. Gladstone's coming before them just now to ask for a return of their confidence. Confidence in what ? Confidence in his inability to govern in his inability to keep together the Radical majority ? Or is it only renewed expression of confidence in his ability to turn black into white and white into black that he is asking for ? But there are signs that the country has had enough of word-painting, and wants a little plain speaking; and this will be very awkward for the Word-Conjurer. His occupation will be gone. Are not the Liberals rather hard on Mr. Gladstone ? He has declared so often, and so persistently, that he wishes to retire from CONJURING. public life, that it is impossible not to believe him. Why, then, do they compel him at the advanced age of 77 to take the held again against his will ? Even when he consents it is with the understanding that he is only a " stopgap "a "stopgap" for whom? For Lord Hartington or Sir William Harcourt? But does the country want a stopgap at all? If the democratic flood gates are really opened, and the revolutionary torrent threatens the land, what is the use ot a stopgap ? We want a different man ; a strong man who can either direct the torrent or arrest it, not a stopgap who would not attempt to do either the one or the other. Never in our history have we had less opening for a stopgap Minister. The issues are before the country at least they are very rapidly coming before it and we want rather to make up our minds which side to take than to shirk our responsibility under a stopgap. It is an age of delusions, but the most extraordinary delusion of all is that Mr. Gladstone is the Saviour of the Whig Party ! Why, he has destroyed it. Ten years of his rule have reduced it from the most powerful party in the State to a body of from 50 or 60 sulky, expostulating gentlemen, following unwillingly at the tail of the Radicals ! A Whig must be a Christian indeed who will now prostrate himself under the umbrella. But what is of far more importance to us than what Mr. Gladstone has done, is what the new electors intend to do. How will they vote ? How will they be influenced by the three acres and the cow ; bv the ransom proposal ; by the disestablishment of the Church ? It is, I believe, safe to assume this : that the old electorate and the new will not pull together. The bribe of the three acres and the cow is not addressed to the old electors ; disestablishment does not tempt them ; and the proposed ransom actually comes out of their pockets. They do not forget that ten years ago, when Mr. Gladstone wanted their vote, he offered them the income-tax ; but that now he offers them nothing on the contrary, that he proposes to make them find the bribe to tempt the new electors. How the electorate as a whole will vote nobody can tell, but I think this much is certain that the old electorate will be far more Conservative than they were at the last election, and that if the decision rested with them they would return a very large Conservative majority. I assume it as absolutely certain that the great mass of moderate Liberals in the country will vote Conservative. How can they help it ? They agree more or less cordially with every plank in the Conservative platform, and they detest more or less bitterly every plank in the Radical platform, and the ballot is their ally. The most powerful Conservative agent at the approaching election will be the ballot for one Conservative who will use the ballot to vote Radical a thousand Radicals will use the ballot to vote Conservative. It is not at all unlikely that the Radicals will be hoist with their own petard. There is one consideration that will exercise very considerable influence in the coming election, and that is the British love of fair play. There are vast numbers who think that if Mr. Gladstone failed to govern with a majority of 70, and threw up the sponge, it is only fair play to give his opponents a chance of governing in his place. One fact, I think, has by degrees come home to the minds of most educated men not in the party swim, and that is, that under no possible CONJURING. conditions can Lord vSalisbury be as dangerous to the country as Mr. Gladstone, for the very good reason that there is not the same glamour attached to his name, and that he would be turned out, sans phrase, before he had had time to do one-hundreth part of the mischief. No. XXIV. DRIFTING. WHEN Anarcharsis was asked which was the safest ship, he answered, " That which has arrived in port." I suppose, there- fore, we may assume, that that astute Scythian would have defined as the most unsafe ship the one that never arrives in port at all, and such a ship is our Government. Never since God made little fishes has such an unfortunate, helpless craft been seen on the ocean of politics. For four long years it has been drifting to and fro, heading by turns to every point of the compass ; now under a press of sail, now under no sail at all; now on one tack, now on the other; making sternway and leeway, but never headway ; missing stays, jibbing, drifting in fact, doing everything that the most insecure vessel in the most inefficient hands can by any possibility be made to do ; a phantom ship, always steering for a port, but doomed never to enter it; a warning to all " sailor chaps " to what base uses a good ship may be brought by want of common sense, indecision and funk. Joking apart, is it any exaggeration to say that the Government ship has never once absolutely not once during the last four years been able to enter a single port it cleared for, or avoid drifting away to some other port it had no intention of visiting? Has the Government once even once in four years been able to do what it said it would do, or go where it said it would go ? Has it not, on the other hand, invariably done what it said it would not do, and gone where it said it would not go ? What a fortune a betting man might have made during the last four years by always betting ioo to 8 against the Government programme ! "You say you'll evacuate Egypt in six months I bet you ioo to 8 you don't ; you say you'll pass the Ilbert Bill ioo to 8 you don't ; that you'll secure the French alliance ioo to 8 you don't ; ioo to 8 against the Congo Treaty against the French Commercial Treaty against the Suez Canal Treaty against the pacification of Ireland against the pacification of Zululand ioo to 8 against the London Conference, ioo to 8 against the Mercantile Marine Bill, against the Half-Sovereign Token Bill, in fact ioo to 8 against anything or everything suggested or attempted by the Government." This is no exaggeration ; it is a fact at least it appears so to me. The Government appears doomed to the endless task of the Danaides, filling a sieve with water. This is the price they have paid for effacing themselves, for placing their actions and their judgments unreservedly in the hands of a chief who probably has more quicksilver in his composition than the whole twelve of them together; but less of the baser metal common sense than the very noodle of the party. It is because they have pretended to do what they knew they could not do rule an empire without an Imperial policy because they have attempted to dispense with experience and common sense that twelve wise men have been, DRIFTING. checkmated at every turn, and that the nation is now sailing round and round the fabled Anticyra, seeking in vain for the charm that shall restore its lost reason. It is said that when Mr. Gladstone succeeded to office he announced that he " intended to rule England according to the inspirations of a Higher Power.'' Whether he did say so or not I do not venture to decide, but it sounds so like so many things that he undoubtedly has said that I am inclined to believe he did say it. "What instrument is this? " asked Captain Gladstone when he came on board the good ship Empire. " Oh, that's Imperial interests, the compass we steer by," was the reply." " And what is this ? " " That's experience, the chart that shows us the shoals, and rocks, and currents." " And what is this ? " " Oh, that's common sense, the lead with which we feel our way in fogs and thick weather." " Oh, indeed, and these are what the last captain navigated with, are they ? Overboard with them ; none of such trash for me." " But," urge the officers, " not only the last captain, but all preceding captains have navigated with them, and, indeed, they have enabled us to weather many a storm, and there is no safety without them." " Safety be " (I beg your pardon), shouts Captain Gladstone, in a rage ; " overboard with them ! What do you take me for ? Do you suppose I am one of your long-shore captains who requires compass, and charts, and soundings, or the experience of predecessors ? Not a bit of it ? I am no ordinary skipper, I assure you. I don't trust to compasses, and charts, and the lead. I navigate the ship by the 'inspirations of a Higher Power,' and if that is not good enough for you I should like to know what is.'" But unfortunately common sense and the " inspirations of a Higher Power " mean very different things in fact, as explained by results, the latter may be summed up by the monosyllabe " drift." Following this fatal inspiration, we drifted into the bombardment of Alexandria, we drifted into the occupation of Egypt, we drifted into the Conference, we drifted into the Soudan expedition, we drifted into the financial coup d'etat we drifted into bad terms with France, Germany, and, indeed, all Europe -we drifted into chaos in Ireland, into chaos at the Cape, and now, if the Radicals are to be believed, we are drifting into revolution at home ! I beg their pardon, I forgot ; evolution, not revolution, is the word. According to the inspiration of the Higher Power, our case is a very bad one. Poor Britannia is rotten to the core. Evolution alone can save her from annihilation. No longer the model that other nations should imitate, she is a warning of what they should avoid. In the process of evolution, indeed, destruction may come upon all we love and boast of; but what of that? " II faut souffrir pour etre belle ! " Out of the impurities of the old Britannia will be evoked a brand-new one something so smart, so glossy, so spick and span, so Radically symmetrical, that the whole civilized world will exclaim in astonishment and delight, Oh, my ! " There are some weak-kneed creatures who tell us that evolution and revolution are very much alike that we are playing with fire ; that we are going so far and so fast, we shall not be able to stop, and we are warned to beware the dangerous maxim that has ruined the honour and virtue of more than one woman and DRIFTING. more than one statesman : " that on some conjunctions it is allowable to neglect the outworks of honour, provided they maintain inviolable the fort itself." But what are the maxims of the wise to the inspiration of a Higher Power? But there is no use bewailing our Kismet. Evolution or revolution, chaos or order, we are in for it. Our fate has passed from our own hands into the hands of one who, " unguibus et rostro," by eloquence and by threats, will compel us to do as he wishes. We have elected the bramble to be king over over us, and it is ridiculous now to hesitate in our obedience. " If ye have really anointed me king," says the bramble, "come and put yourselves under my shadow (that is to say, don't presume to thwart me) ; if not, fire shall come out of the bramble, and consume the cedars of Lebanon." Alas ! poor cedars of Lebanon. Alas ! poor Lords, in the face of this warning, you have ventured to thwart the bramble. How can you hope, how can you deserve, to escape the fire prepared for you ? By all means let us put ourselves under the shadow of the bramble. Let us acclaim Mr. Gladstone for all the great and glorious works he has done for us the bombardment of Alexandria, the battles of the Soudan, the French and German alliances, the London Conference, the European concert, for our prosperous trade, because he has sent out the fire to consume the cedars of Lebanon. But don't let us go into hysterics over him because he can articulate more words in a shorter space of time than any human being that ever lived, or because he can cut down a tree not nearly so well as a woodman, or read the lessons no better than an ordinary curate ! There is nothing grand in these things. It makes our hero-worship vulgar. Let us take warning from the satirist. " Peuple francais," said Rousseau, " tu n'est pas peut etre le plus esclave, mais tu est bien le plus valet de tous les peuples." 1886. No. XXV. THE GOSPEL OF MURDER. THE History of Religion since the Flood would be funny read- ing; creditable, perhaps, to the ingenuity of mankind, but scarcely to their common sense. They have, indeed, in turns worshipped almost everything, animate and inanimate, clean and unclean, that the world has produced bulls, calves, dogs, cats, alligators, serpents, stocks, stones, and "terminal" figures; and now, last stage of all, they worship Words. We have had a Stone Age, an Iron Age, a Bronze Age (the Brass Age, of course, is per- petual), and now we have a Word Age ; and the credulous votaries of this childish superstitution " Their wings display and altars raise, And torture one poor word ten thousand ways." And a king's ransom is offered to those who can torture a word into the greatest number of meanings, or, what is better still, into no meaning at all. Unfortunately for us, the new superstition is fatal to truth. Certa sunt paucis. Truth is contained in few words ; verbosity is fatal to it. Under the demoralising influence of this new worship a man says and does things that two years ago he would have sworn by his gods he could never do. The confusion of tongues is complete ; the Tower of Babel was a joke to it. Even when you know what a man says you do not pretend to know what he means ; and if you talk to your friend in the street you begin by asking him, What language are we to speak, English or Gladstonese ? A short time ago, I shudder in relating it, it was whispered that a certain person, who shall be nameless, was writ- ing a dictionary. Imagine a dictionary with a distinct meaning for every word, for every day in the week, and two for Sundays ! Why the lunatic asylums of the whole world would not have been large enough to hold half of us. Mercifully, the report was rtoo bad to be true. It was only a frightful nightmare. As it is, even without the authority of a dictionary, our mother tongue has been so altered and disfigured that we don't recognise it Traitor now means a loyal man, Renegade, a man who holds to his faith, Judas means Christ ; in fact, every word means the very reverse of what it has always meant since " Adam was the first man, and Eve she was the t'other ; and Cain he walk the treadmill because he kill him broder " (rather an awkward incident, of course, in that age of innocence !) The disintregation of our language goes on at such at pace that two years are quite sufficient to invert completely the meaning of any word; take " boycotting," for instance, quite a recent coinage we know what it meant when it was first invented ; but I defy the best scholar in the country to define what it means now. It originally meant "combined intimidation," "intolerant tyranny,"' "moral assassination," the "sanction of THE GOSPEL OF MURDER. murder," shooting a man in the legs, treating him like a mangy clog, preventing his going to church, shaving a girl's head, cutting off a cow's tail, &c. Well, now it means the very reverse of all this. It is an " Irish virtue," a " national protest against oppression," the " nohle act of a people struggling, and justly struggling to he free. It is the old story. " Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columhis." Two years ago we thought the ravens were the aggressors ; now we see plainly that it is the doves. We were indignant with the ravens for attack- ing the doves; now we are furious with the doves for resisting the ravens. We no longer denounce the ruffians who shave the girl, or shoot the peasant in the legs, or cut off the cow's tail ; we denounce the girl who owns the hair, the peasant who owns the legs, and the cow that owns the tail. This mental Fata Morgana that makes us see things completely upside down is rather comical. It is no longer the rascal who steals the honest man's watch who should go to prison, but the honest man whose watch was stolen ; no longer the man who breaks his contract who is dishonest, but the wretch who presumes to hold him to his contract. And we actually see millionaires, whose millions depend entirely on the sanctity of contracts, advocating their repudiation. " Poor blind mice," it would indeed be a case of " see how the}- run " if boycot- ting and the Plan of Campaign that they advocate in Ireland, were applied to them in London. They would be ruined. The church- mouse would be rich in comparison. But is it possible they can be such fools as to suppose the public do not see the utter absurdity, if not the absolute dishonesty, of their advocacy ? They may impose a falsehood on themselves, but they don't impose it on others. They may shut both eyes, but it does not prevent others keeping both eyes open. " Grattez le Russe," &c, &c, applies to everything that is sham to every man who pretends to be what he is not. Scratch the sleek millionaire and it is a hundred to one you find the money-grubber ! Scratch the man who is so liberal, so generous, so profuse with the property of others, and you find the miser! Let but your little finger threaten his wealth and he will howl as if you stamped on his pet corn. The ostrich sticks his head in the sand and thinks no one can see him, but the hunter does, and says, ' There's a silly ostrich." And the fool sticks his head in the fool's cap and thinks his folly invisible ! Not a bit of it, the public only smile and say, " There's another fool." The cap of Fortunatus made a man invisible, but a fool's cap does not. Fools who think they impose on the public by pretending to be what they are not should take a note of this. And how has all this con- fusion of tongues come about ? It is very simple. The bell- wether has a fly in his head, or a bee in his bonnet, or something wrong somewhere, and tries to say " bah " differently from any former bell-wether, and all the silly sheep try to imitate him. Hence the Babel. The public are in despair to see the sheep in St. Stephens running amuck like the deer in Richmond Park. Mr. Gladstone is the high priest of the new culte. Like the wicked magician in Aladdin he is both the master and the slave of the lamp. He is both the master and slave of words by turns THE GOSPEL OF MURDER. they obey him and he obeys them. Notwithstanding the dozen definitions he has himself already given of boycotting, only the other day, with delightful simplicity, he asked the Attorney-General for a new one, as if he had never heard of the word before, and then chid him, in a " superior-person " kind of way, for declining to give it. But the Attorney-General was equal to the occasion ; he fortunately had one of Mr. Gladstone's own definitions in his pocket. 41 Boycotting," said Mr. Gladstone in 1882, during the debate on the Crimes Bill, is " the combined intimidation made use of for the purpose of destroying the private liberty of choice, by the fear of starvation. The Land League relied upon the combined intimida- tion of boycotting to enforce its decrees, and the sanction of boy- cotting, that which stands in the rear of boycotting, and by which alone boycotting can in the long run be made thoroughly effective, is the murder which is not to be denounced." And then he goes on to say, " It is not uncharitable or rash to assume a connection between the words of the speaker (Mr. Parnell in that instance) and the acts that followed. With fatal and painful precision the steps of crime dogged the Land League," &c. At that time, of course, Mr. Glad- stone, Sir William Harcourt, and Lord Spencer had satisfied them- selves by " their official information " that there was a close connection between Parnellism and crime ; but the revelations of the Times have lately dispelled this idea. They have proved to them that their official information was entirely wrong ; that, in fact, the driven snow is not "in it" as regards purity with Par- nellism in all its relations. This appears rather odd, because Par- nellism is now exactly what it was then ; it has not changed the colour of a single hair. But I am sick of trying to build an argument on Mr. Gladstone's words. It is like trying to make a rope of sand. His words are no more intended to hold water than a sieve. But still I suppose we may assume that in 1882, at any rate, he believed that boycot- ting led directly to murder. Does he deny that it leads directly to murder now ? In 1882 those who preached effective boycotting were preaching the gospel of murder. Are they doing so now ? This is interesting, because his most trusted friend and adviser is now directly preaching a system of boycotting infinitely more effective and tending more directly to crime than any preached before. Is he preaching the gospel of murder, I wonder ? Let us, to use Mr. Gladstone's phraseology, when addressing the Noncon- formists, "illustrate this matter by what is taking place now." A short time ago a Radical member of Parliament is reported to have urged the Irish to treat as a " loathsome leper" any man who took a farm from which another had been evicted ; that is to say, he urges the people to treat him worse than a mangy dog, to refuse him food and the necessities of life, to let him starve and die in a ditch. This reads like an exhortation to effective boycotting. At any rate, it is an exhortation to murder. If there is any meaning in the English language, it is certain that only a few years ago Mr. Gladstone denounced much less effective boycotting than this as tending to the promotion of crime, as having murder for its ultimate result. What he thinks of THE GOSPEL OF MURDER. it now God only knows, but he carefully avoids saying anything, and silence is very significant in Mr. Gladstone. Perhaps the member who gave this loathsome advice to the Irish people would demur to the deduction that he was preaching the gospel of murder. He might argue that though treating a man like a loathsome leper is moral murder, it is not inciting to actual murder. To some of us it may appear even worse, because more cowardly ; but there is a mental process called reasoning by induc- tion, and it appears to me almost certain that reasoning in this way the exhortations to the moral murder on the interloper would be quite sufficient to cause the actual murder of the landlord. The Radical condemns the man who succeeds an evicted tenant to be treated like a loathsome leper ; but the evicted tenant miht argue in this way : " You tell me to treat this man like a loathsome leper ; but he did not evict me, he had no hand in my eviction ; he may profit by my disaster, but he in no degree caused it ; the man who evicted me is my landlord, he it is that caused my disaster ; but if eviction is such a crime against justice and society that you order me to commit moral murder on this man, who only succeeds roe and has done me no bodily harm, in order to avenge it, what am I to do to the man who has turned me out and ruined me ? " " Murder him, of course," would be the only logical reply. If I was a tenant animated by a fierce desire of revenge for being evicted, and I was indirectly urged to shoot the landlord who evicted me, I should naturally be very much influenced by the position of the person who gave me the advice. For instance, if " No. i " or some other professor of the gospel of murder was to say to me Shoot the old gentleman meaning my landlord I should say Thank you ; but if I kill him and I get the rope round my neck you won't be able to take it off. This is not good enough. Shoot him yourself. But if the Radical statesman, sitting at home at ease, urges me between the puffs of his cigarette to commit this murder, he must know that he can see me through it, and save my neck from the rope. This is good enough for me. I'll risk it ! When the next landlord is shot shall we be " rash and uncharitable " in assuming a connection between the words of the Radical and the acts which followed ? I wonder ! I wonder if Mr. Gladstone sticks to his definition of 1882, and still maintains that " the sanction of boycotting, that which stands in the rear of boycotting, and by which alone boycotting can in the long run be made thoroughly effective, is the murder which is not to be denounced." According to my comprehension, Mr. Parnell's supposed letter is an apology for murder. The statesman's speech is an incitement to murder. The former condones past crime, the latter incites to fresh crime. Now, as I would rather condone a hundred murders committed than excite to one fresh one, I would rather a hundred times have written Mr. Parnell's letter than have made the statesman's speech. 1886. No. XXVI. PLAYING WITH FIRE. REALLY Mr. Gladstone's friends are very unkind to him. They know that he is saying and doing many things that are very foolish, and that, if he was in his right mind, he would never have said or done ; but instead of trying to restrain him, they urge him. on to greater excesses. When a spoilt child persists in " showing off," and says and does foolish things, his mamma or his nurse say, "Now, dear, we have had enough of this; we'll go to bed." It is a curious fact that in second childhood men are even more prone to "show off" than in first childhood. Mr. Gladstone is. showing off (and he is a spoilt child, if ever there was one). Won't some of his friends say, " Now, dear, we have had enough of this ; we'll go to bed."' What a release it would be to us, and what a kindness to him. It is the only way by which he can save even a rag of reputation. He is tearing it to pieces, as a casual does his workhouse clothes. Say what you will, it is foolish very foolish indeed, very shocking for a man who has been Prime Minister of England to pose as a sympathiser with anarchy and public plunder, and to denounce the police for taking steps to prevent it. It is not pleasant to have to say, " Oh ! poor old fellow,. he has got mediant in his old age ; many old men do." But this is actually what hundreds and thousands of his former friends are saying to-day. The case of Mr. Gladstone, although very uncommon, is not unknown. Many men at 80 say and do things that nothing would have induced them to say and do at 40. It is a fact, sad, perhaps, but true, that " the aged do not understand judgment. ' But what is uncommon, and has no parallel in the history of civilisation, is to see millionaires, whose only right to their millions is possession, and whose only security in possession is the power of the law to protect property, joining Mr. Gladstone in denouncing the police for trying to protect property. That certainly does " beat all jumps," as they say in the Wild West. What sham men those are who denounce the rights of property in Ireland and stick to it like leeches in England. How they would scream and curse, and hiss with rage, if their Consols or their acres were touched ! How they would yell at the police if they did not protect their property in time of need. When the monkey reigns it is a wise thing to dance before him ; but never, never, did our simian ancestors ever dance to such a tune as this. " What right have you," said Mr. Gladstone to Mr. Balfour, "to support the police at Mitchelstown before you knew they were right ? " " What right have you," we ask of Mr. Gladstone in return, " to denounce the action of the police in London before you knew they were wrong ? " Now, the fact is Mr. Balfour did satisfy himself that the police at Mitchelstown were in the right before he approved of their conduct. Whereas Mr. Gladstone did not satisfy himself that the police in the Lyons case were wrong PLAYING WITH FIRE. before he denounced their conduct. The police in Ireland were carrying out the law when they were fiercely attacked by the mob and their lives placed in great danger ; and because they defended their lives Mr. Gladstone would have them hanged. The London Socialists threatened to march through the streets and excite the mob to destroy property, and because the police took steps to prevent them Mr. Gladstone denounces them as inquisitors, and begins babbling about Wat Tyler. What nonsense ! Now, really, is it true that the famous resources of civilisation have brought us to this, that Socialists and Anarchists are to be applauded for planning the destruction of property, and the police are to be denounced for planning its defence ? But this is actually the position Mr. Gladstone has taken up. The Socialists proclaim themselves the enemies of all property, and last year they put their professions into practice by sacking the shops ; and Mr. Gladstone's Government censured the police and removed their chief because they did not repress them with sufficient vigour. To-day the Socialists threaten again to sack and destroy, and Mr. Gladstone and his late Government actually denounce the police because they try to prevent them. It is not only absurd it is a shame ; it is a disgrace. Both in London and in Ireland the police are denounced by Mr. Gladstone and the Radicals for protecting the very foundation of society and civilisation the rights of property. " Remember Mitchelstown," cries Mr. Gladstone. Yes, indeed, we shall remember Mitchelstown as long as we live ; not, as he supposes, for the misconduct of the police, but for the misconduct of a man who has been Prime Minister of England. Yes, we shall remember Mitchelstown, and South Audley-street, and Bond-street, and Piccadilly. People have not all lost their memories because Mr. Gladstone finds it easy to forget. Now, what will be the result, what must be the result of Mr. Gladstone's denunciation of the police ? That in a very short time neither the police in Ireland nor the police in England will do their duty. The police are men of like natures to ourselves. Their duties are very often very dangerous and very disagreeable ; if they are to be denounced for doing their duty, they will not long continue to do it. They have the remedy in their own hands. If a policeman is not to defend his life when he considers it in danger, no man will become a policeman. And who knows when his life is in danger so well as the owner of the life himself ? How ridiculous for an outsider 500 miles away to say, " Oh ! your life was not in danger," if the owner of the life thought it was. " I am not going to put myself in the way of being killed if I am to be hanged for defending myself. If I am denounced for defending property, I will no longer do so ; it is no pleasure to me let the owners protect it themselves." This is what the policeman will say, and who can say he is wrong ? This is the dilemma Mr. Gladstone's last phase of folly has placed us in. I wonder what Mr. Gladstone's City friends think of his denouncing the police because they tried to protect property. Are their sympathies also with the dangerous classes? Where would their property be without the police ? I would ask. Where will it very soon be if they weaken the hands of order and strengthen the PLAYING WITH FIRE. hands of anarchy ? Before they support Mr. Gladstone in this campaign against order and property, let them realise the situation. It is very simple, a child can understand it. There are in London 40,000 professional thieves, there are 80,000 paupers, there are 300,000 more loafers, Socialists, Anarchists, foreigners, who would rob and pillage, and burn and destroy, if they got a chance. Well, between these 300,000 and 400,000 enemies of property and the owners of property there stand 13,000 police, that is all. If the public give them moral support they will keep the dangerous classes at bay ; if the public follow Mr. Gladstone's advice, and deny them moral support, they will shut up, that's all. But is not that all rather a dear price to pay even for Mr. Gladstone's pleasure ? 1887. No. XXVII. HORS LIGNE. WHAT a man is Mr. Gladstone. Man, did I say ? What a dozen men rolled into one ; an epitome of men, only an epitome of a variety that has never before appeared on earth bien cntendu. We must be thankful for small mercies. Nature has never repeated Mr. Gladstone ; nothing like him has ever appeared since the ill-omened year 1810. Evidently the mould was broken in which he was made whether purposely or by accident Nature only knows. Perhaps we scarcely realise the danger we have escaped. If the Gladstone type had been repeated even once only, it is certain that chaos would have come again. With a Gladstone on one side, and a Gladstone on the other, the fate of the Kilkenny cats must inevitably have been ours. If one Mr. Gladstone has so demoralised us that we no longer know black from white, right from wrong, honour from dishonour, patriotism from treason, that we have even lost the meaning of our own language, two Mr. Glad- stones would have reduced us to a mental condition in which the cerebral inversion of the famous Major Brown, upside down, would have been an actual object of envy. In all professions whether soldiers, sailors, tinkers, tailors, gentleman, apothecary, plou^hboy, thief, and even politician there are unwritten rules that ensure a certain unformity of practice, that restrain the competitors, and keep them within bounds, as it were ; and when any one violates these unwritten rules, we say he is hors ligne. Without these rules the profession or rather game for is it not more of a game than a profession ? of party politics would be impossible. Gene- rally speaking, these unwritten rules are very fairly observed because they are a mutual convenience ; but there is a constant inducement to break them. The player who breaks them often gets a considerable pull over the player who obeys them. Very often the more license a man allows himself in his words and actions the better chance he has of success. We all know men in society, and especially in Parliament, who owe their success entirely to playing hors ligne, giving themselves fuller license of word or deed than their neighbours. Of course, the moral effect of being hors ligne depends very much upon the position of the individual so acting. I suppose it would be considered hors ligne for a clergy- man to play football on Sunday ; but certainly we should be more surprised to see a bishop do it than a curate. So an ex-Prime Minister of England, wilfully and incessantly hors ligne, defying with fierce recklessness all unwritten rules that have hitherto regulated the game of party politics, is a greater shock to our moral sense than if it were only one of Mr. Schnadhorst's nomi- nees. Now, it is needless to say that Mr. Gladstone is constantly hors ligne. He claims to be entirely above the unwritten rules of party politics, and this gives him an immense advantage ; but no HORS LIGNE. political opponent must presume to follow his example if he does his indignation is tremendous. He began very early. It was certainly hors ligne for an English Minister to apologise for the heathen Chinee poisoning the wells in time of war. It was certainly hors ligne for an ex-Prime Minister to apologise for moonlighters shaving a poor girl's head and covering it with pitch. It was certainly hors ligne to assist reckless partisans to drag into disrepute the Speaker of the House of Commons ; to insinuate that English judges and English juries are venal ; and English justice a farce. It is certainly " hors ligne " to denounce a man as a traitor steeped in treason to the very lips, and to cast him into prison without a trial, and two years after- wards to uphold him as a noble patriot. It is certainly u hors ligne " for an ex-Prime Minister to take Heaven to witness that for 15 years he has been a Unionist, and then to turn slap round and take Heaven to witness that for 15 years he has been a Separationist. But it is no use enlarging on this subject. Mr. Gladstone is always hors ligne, always breaking bounds that is to say, when it promotes his party objects; it is his normal condition; but during the last fortnight he has eclipsed himself he has actually out-Heroded Herod. In his Jonah-like anger against his political opponents he has done two things, that, till the con- trary is proved, I never will believe England or Scotland, or even gallant little Wales, will condone in silence. He declines to inquire whether the Parnellite party, to whom he proposes to hand over absolutely the lives and property of two millions, more or less, of our loyal and Protestant fellow subjects, are connected with crime or not; and he calls upon the declared enemies of England, the fiercest she has ever had, assassins, dynamiters, and all for he carefully guards himselt from making any exception to come over and help him to put pressure on Parliament and the national will. Of course, as usual, his followers will make excuses for the dangerous impulses of what Lord Randolph Churchill calls an old man in a hurry, but they cannot shut their eyes to the infamy to which these impulses are dragging the nation. No man has ever had so much rope given him as Mr. Gladstone. Often and often we have been cheered with the cry Well ! This time, at any rate, he must hang himself. But he never has. He has always managed to riggle out of the noose somehow. But I declare I do believe that now his time is approaching. He has declared his intention to hand over Ireland and 2,000,000, more or less, of loyal and Protestant subjects of the Queen to what Mr. Bright calls very justly, I believe a foreign conspiracy, and he calls upon the avowed enemies of England in America and else- where to come over and help him to force his policy on the majority of Parliament and of the country. Now, I take it it is hors ligne for an ex-Prime Minister of England to apply to the avowed enemies of his country to assist him to coerce the majority of his countrymen, but just at the critical moment the Times news- paper reprints from the Parnellite press in Ireland and America some startling statements that appear indisputably to connect Par- nellism with crime, and caps them with the now famous letter of HORS LIGNE. Mr. Parnell, and says to Mr. Gladstone " You must not, you cannot, hand over Ireland and 2,000,000 of our fellow subjects absolutely and entirely to these men till their innocence from these charges is established." " Oh ! won't I ? " virtually replies Mr. Gladstone. " Guilty or not guilty, I will hand over Ireland to these men, though I have to call on the mob from the streets and the dynamiters and assassins from America to help me." Mr. Gladstone now declares that his official information enables him to state that there is not, and never has been, any connection between Parnellism and crime ; but he forgets apparently that only three years ago he denounced Mr. Parnell as steeped in treason to the very lips ; declared that crime dogged the steps of the Land League, of which he was the chief, and cast him into prison without trial. Three years ago, therefore, Mr. Gladstone did see that there was a connection between Parnellism and crime. What has induced him to change his opinion ? Now, whether Mr. Par- nell was guilty of treason when Mr. Gladstone put him in prison without trial I don*t know ; but this I do know, and all the world knows it, that since that time Mr. Parnell, to his honour be it recorded, has not gone back one inch from the principles he then held and the claims he then advanced, and if these principles and these claims constituted treason then they constitute treason now. Mr. Gladstone himself is the most damaging witness against Mr. Parnell. When the Old Parliamentary Hand appealed to the mob in Hyde Park to coerce the majority in Parliament the appeal fell just a little flat, and he was very angry, and he at once telegraphed to the Home Rule organisation in America to send over addresses and deputations (knives and dynamite as well, I suppose) to enable him to force the hand of Parliament. Was not this a little hors ligne for an ex- Prime Minister ? Now Mr. Gladstone knows, like all the rest of the world, that assassination and dynamite societies have been, and there is every reason to suppose are still, connected with the Home Rule movement in America. He knows, as all the world knows, that scores of men in the pay of the American Home Rule associations have for years been going to and fro and up and down the land devising evil against his country, sharpening knives, and preparing bombs ; and, therefore, he knows, as distinctly as he knows anything, that in appealing to the Irish-American Home Rulers to come over to help him to force the hand of the British Government, he is asking the assistance of England's greatest enemies yes, her greatest enemies who pray for her destruction, who vow her destruction, who have tried to blow up her Parlia- ment House, her public offices, the Tower of London, her ships, and anything and everything belonging to her to coerce by threats and actual outrage his own countrymen. Was ever such a foul blow struck by any Englishman at his country? I declare I don't know its parallel in any age or in any country. Certainly we have had to drink deep of the cup of national humiliation. Majuba Hill, the desertion of Gordon, are enough for a generation ; but to solicit the assistance of the rowdyism of America, the sworn enemies of our country, to come over and rule us, is a disgrace far, far greater than these. It takes a long time to open the eyes of the masses ; but I HORS LIGNE. believe they are opening at last, and when they realise the full measure of the humiliation Mr. Gladstone's appeal is bringing on his country, I believe the indignation will not be mealy-mouthed. Because Mr. Gladstone, in his passionate fury against his political opponents, forgets his duty to his country, forgets himself swallows himself, collars and all are we to do the same ? It is absurd. But have the English and the Scotch and the Welsh fallen so low that they will tolerate Mr. Gladstone's appeal to the assassins and dynamiters of America to come over and coerce our Parliament and our Govern- ment ? Will they haul down the national flag, and say to their fierce and now triumphant enemies, " Do with us as you will ? " Will they hand over to a foreign conspiracy, body and soul, two millions of fellow subjects ? I do not believe it. If they do "actum est de Anglia ; " then, indeed, it is evident that the old spirit has gone out of the country, that the pride of race is dead ; and we shall then have evidence that cannot lie that Mr. Gladstone has fulfilled his baneful destiny and ruined his country. 1887. No. XXVIII. TOOTH-DRAWING. THE old French proverb "To lie like a tooth-drawer" (menteur comme un arracheur de dents) is withdrawn from circulation, and is replaced by the modern English one " to lie like a politician." Recent events have made this change inevitable. It has long been evident that the tooth-drawer is no longer "in it" with the politician ; and it is deceiving the public to continue a pre- eminence that no longer exists. At the same time it is announced that Mr. Gladstone is engaged in compiling a handbook on political morality, for the use of his followers, stating what a Radical, of the pure grit, may and what he may not do to help his party and him- self. The text of this new gospel of political veracity from the hand of the great master himself is urgently required. Things are too bad to continue as they are. The last figment of the old school of political veracity has disappeared, and as yet there is nothing to replace it. Mr. Gladstone has hoisted his old gingham in the Great Wilderness of Doubt, and offers a complete dispensation, present and retrospective, from pledges and promises to all who will come under its shelter and fall down and worship him. It is astonishing how popular this new gospel is, and with what eager- ness the proselytes throw over the old love and are on with the new ; but it has its inconveniences, and they are considerable ; it establishes distinct and indeed antagonistic codes of veracity for gentlemen and for politicians. What is actually praiseworthy in the latter is actually damnable in the former ! And when a man has constantly to ask himself, Am I speaking and acting as a gentleman or as a politician ? he is apt occasionally to get some- what mixed. The following is a case in point. " During the fifty years of her Majesty's reign 3,700,000 persons have been evicted in Ireland," says Mr. Gladstone. " During the fifty years of her Majesty's reign 350,000 persons have been evicted in Ireland," says Mr. Bal- four, " and half of this number have returned to their holdings as caretakers or tenants." It appears that Mr. Balfour is right and that Mr. Gladstone is wrong, very wrong ; that in order to strengthen his case against his country he has adopted the very simple process of multiplying the real number of evictions by ten ; but does Mr. Gladstone amend his statement because it has proved to be false ? Oh, dear no ; as a gentleman he would have to do so ; but as a politician, he has not. " A politician should shrink from no state- ment, however false, so long as it gives probability to his story," says Reynard the Fox to his children ; and his advice still holds good with the present generation of politicians in fact, they have improved upon it. It is very useful to remember that the political morality taught at Malepartus is identical with the political morality TOOTH-DRAWING. taught under the gingham. " Did you," asks a " put-up " corres- pondent of Mr. Gladstone, " say that Mr. Parnell was steeped in treason to the very nails ? " " No, I did not," says the Great Man. " All Wales knows now that I did not ; " but I believe all Wales, and all England, and all Scotland, and all Ireland knows, that he said that Mr. Parnell was steeped in treason to the very lips. It is true he said "lips;" it is a shameful falsehood to say he said " nails." After that it is plain to everyone that the tooth-drawer is no longer in it. Qualis rex, talis grex. " Who teaches the King of Macedon teaches all his subjects." Undoubtedly the " nameless one " I cannot conceive who it is who teaches Mr. Gladstone teaches all his subjects, for his political morality has become almost immediately the morality of them all. Under the shade of that deadly upas, the Gladstonian gingham, men say and do things that only two years ago the most hardened tooth-drawer would have shuddered at. " The King can do no wrong " may be a harmless fiction ; but it is no longer harmless if his subjects take it into their heads to imitate him. Philosophers tell us that the ne plus ultra of human happiness is to have a good digestion and no conscience. This is all very well for the ordinary tooth-drawer, but for the higher walks of the profession the possession of a conscience is nine points of the law. It marks the difference between the amateur and the professional. The amateur can get on well enough without a conscience, but a professional is of no use at all unless his conscience, his motives, his humanity are are always en evidence ; and besides, nothing is so safe as appealing to your conscience when you know that it is only another name for your will. An elastic, very long-suffering conscience is indispen- sable to the successful politician. " Vellem si liceret," sighed the Roman Emperor, casting sheep's eyes at forbidden fruit. " Licet si libet," was the curt reply. But it was enough ; and he im- mediately married his grandmother no, I think it was his step- mother ; but it does not much matter to us what privileges they enjoyed in those Imperial days ! " Vellem si liceret," sighed Mr. Gladstone. " I should so like to go in for Home Rule, secure the Irish vote, and dish the Tories ; but after all I have said about the unity of the Empire, treason, &c, I really hardly think it would do. What do you say, conscience ? " " Licet si libet," is the prompt reply, and he does it. "Vellem si liceret," says Mr. Gladstone again, " I should so like to secure the vote of the fanatics by remov- ing all restraints on the dissemination of disease, but really I am afraid common sense, humanity, my duty to my neighbours, forbid me to do it. What do you say, conscience ? " "Licet si libet," replies the obliging friend, and King Virus reigns supreme. "Vel- lem si liceret," says Mr. Gladstone, " I should so like to secure the railway vote by supporting the Channel Tunnel, but I'm afraid it will hardly do ; it is only the other day I gained applause as the champion of the silver streak. What do you say conscience ? " " Licet si libet " is the reply ; and, by Jove, he does it. " Vellem si liceret," says he once more, " the Established Church has presumed to cold-shoulder me, and I should so like to smash it up before I go, and give its emoluments to my staunch friends, the Nonconfor- TOOTH-DRAWING. mists ; but I declare I think that this is a little too strong even for me. What do you say, conscience?" " Licet si libet," replies the Demon, and the decree for the Disestablishment is already signed. But these incessant changes of views between Mr. Gladstone and his conscience are rather monotonous. They always end the same way. In fact, such a very highly-trained conscience is merely a copying machine to register its master's will. But if veracity has disappeared from politics, cant has taken its place ; and it is a fact that with the immense majority of mankind it is far more popular and effective. " One day," said Henning, " Reynard came to the gates dressed like a pilgrim ; he told me he had become a monk, and in obedience to his sacred vow must never touch meat again, so that in future all might feel at their ease so far as he was concerned, and in witness of it all showed me a hair shirt under his coat. Then he said he must hurry away, as he had a great deal of business, and to sing Evensong that day, and away he went reading his prayers most devoutly. Full of joy, I went to my family and told them the news, that since Reynard had turned monk we had nothing to fear. Alas ! the traitor was only shamming ; that very day he captured and carried off the finest of my sons." Have we not a Holy Fox among us ? Do we not remember how, a few years ago, he told us that he was getting old, that the things of this world no longer interested him, that he was going to devote the rest of his time on earth to singing Evensong and reading his Prayers devoutly ? Did he not show us the hair shirt, &c. ? How we believed him and congratulated each other on the prospect of a little rest. And do we not remember how that very night Evensong and Prayers were pitched to the devil, and he suddenly clutched his unsuspecting opponent by the throat ? Of course, the whole thing was nonsense only a coup de tnaitre in the school of hypocrisy ; our Holy Fox no more intended to become a monk, give up meat, wear a hair shirt, and devote his time to Prayers and Evensong than did Reynard himself. The double transformation was most artistic. It was in the highest degree touching to see the successful orator pitch away his toga and don the hair shirt ; and it was magnificent to see him in a few weeks pitch away the hair shirt and get into his toga again. To retire to the cloister to save your soul, and to return almost immediately to the world to save your country is, indeed, given to but few. The choice between soul and country, did not appear to give him any anxiety. Irish historical parallels were more correct. Charles V. took to the hair shirt, so did Reynard the Fox, so did Mr. Gladstone. The first continued to wear it, the others didn't ; this is a contrast rather than a parallel. " Oui, je me montrai toute nue Au Dieu Mars, au bel Adonis, A Vulcain meme, et j'en rougis ? Mais Praxit&le ! oii m'a-t-il vue ? " said Venus (in good Greek, not in indifferent French), as she stood before the statue of the Venus of Cos ! When we stand before the picture of the Holy Fox we in turn may ask, Where did Heine see our Mr. Gladstone ? TOOTH-DRAWING. But there is no mystery about it. " This is the story of Reynard the Fox ; and as the world was always much the same as it is now, and will remain the same till the crack of doom, his story will last as long, and will be always new, and always full of truth for those who are not afraid of hearing it." Are we afraid of hearing it ? Perhaps it is a little too plain to be pleasant. 1887. No. XXIX. WHAT IS REVOLUTION? CHAPTER ONE. WHAT is the most remarkable thing that thas happened to you in your long life ? " asked Queen Elizabeth of old Parr. His reply was very interesting, but does not especially affect our subject. "What is the most remarkable thing that has happened to you in your long life?" some one will ask of a dis- tinguished statesman 10 or 15 years hence. (Faust is ever young !) " Getting up a Revolution when I was 78 " will be the reply. " What a shame it is," say his friends, " to call our only statesman a Revolutionist. He is, in fact, the only true Conserva- tive out. He only trifles with political sin in order to show how pure he is, how easily he can put it on one side. Read the instruc- tive story of Modes and Almai'de." Well, I have read the story of Modes, but it is not encouraging. I am, of course, awfully sorry if he is not a Revolutionist that is to say, I am awfully sorry if I say he is one when he is not, but " birds of a feather," &c, you know. And when I see all the faddists who have Revolutionary bees in their bonnets flocking to Mr. Gladstone, I naturally sup- pose he is a collector of revolutionary bees. " See what a lovely bee mine is," says the faddist; "was there ever such a bee?" " Never," replies Mr. Gladstone ; but no one will believe it unless I tell them so ; it is of no use your telling them ; only do exactly as I tell you, and your bee shall become as famous as the bee that settled on the mouth of the infant Plato." Mr. Gladstone is quite right ; he is the only man who can make a horse-fly look like a bee or a drone like a Queen. Now, if he doesn't intend to promote the future of these bees, he is dissembling, which in any branch of the confidence-trick is hors lignc. If there is no honour amongst honest men it would really save trouble if we were all thieves together. But I don't think he is dissembling ; beggars are not choosers, and just now that he is deserted by almost every man of sense in the country, he is entirely dependent on faddists and their bees ; they are his only friends. If it was not for them he would be quite alone. " He is quite alone ; not even a fly with him,'' as was said of the Emperor Caligula. Mr. Gladstone knows perfectly well what the extreme politicians in this country want ; they show their hands plainly enough, and when he accepts their service he virtually accepts their programme. He has signed articles ; and if he thinks he can get their support without paying their price for it, he deserves to be numbered amongst the most credulous of man- kind. Will men follow a leader they know does not sympathise with them ? And will a leader put himself at the head of men he knows do not sympathise with him ? I can't conceive it possible. But what is a Revolutionist '? Cela depend. No doubt Cassius thought Caesar was one, and certainly Caesar thought Cassius was one. Let us see. " A thousand years scarce serve to form a state WHAT IS REVOLUTION ? No. i. one hour may lay it low." Well, my idea of a Revolutionist is one who in an hour will lay low the Empire that it has taken a thousand years to build up ; who will make a clean sweep of every existing landmark in order to stick up his own sign-post ; who so undermines men's confidence in the existing order of things that to live under them any longer becomes impossible ; who cuts the withy in order to strengthen the bundle ; who burns his bed to kill a flea ; who invokes chaos to gratify a whim ; who leaps before he looks ; who appeals to ignorance against knowledge, to sentiment against sense ; whose vanity is his God ? " He wav'd aloft a torch, and, madly vain, Sought Godlike worship from a servile train.'" Who does this describe ? Anyone in particular, or is it only a fancy portrait ? I don't know. This, however, is certain, that whether the portrait is a fancy one or not, it is a very disagreeable one, and gives one the nightmare. I don't blame the Revolutionist who risks chaos to gratify a conviction, but I curse the sham friend of order who risks chaos to gratify a whim. The Revolutionist is of necessity the very reverse of the Reformer. The trade of the former is to destroy the trade of the latter is to amend. " Reform is impossible," says the former. " How can you reform what is actually rotten ? " " Down with it, down with it, even to the ground," shout his admirers, and he smiles approval. Revolution is relative. What is only a choleric word in the captain is rank mutiny in the private. Choleric words that are only ridiculous in the private citizen are positive Revolution in a Prime Minister. What may be reasonable enough in a new country with new institutions may easily become Revolution in an old country with old institutions. There is a considerable difference between building on vacant ground and clearing away existing buildings in order to rebuild. The Revolutionist is no good in a new country he can construct nothing, it is not his metier, his instinct is to pull down, to destroy. The ruling passion ma)- continue strong even at the age of fourscore. To the Revolutionist nothing is sacred that stands in the way of his will ; he knows no hard and fast line beyond which he will not go. Judge, jury, Speaker, House of Lords, Church, property, political economy, Habeas Corpus, Empire, all go down like ninepins if they thwart his will. When he wants support he will pay any price for it take it on any terms, in any form, from anyone. He does not hesitate one moment to cut the withy and scatter the bundle if he thinks it will enable him to break up one or two of the sticks. How the bundle can be tied together does not concern him. As a rule, Revolutionists do not indulge much in the outward show of religion. They laugh at lip service, at humanitarian platitudes, at familiar invocations of the Almighty, but they worship cunning. The Holy Fox is their " totem." They know very well that cant is the hook with which to draw out Leviathan, and that cant is always a trump card. " Put your trust in God," said Cromwell to his men before cross- ing a river; " but mind you keep your powder dry." "Put your trust in God," says Mr. Gladstone to the Hawarden fruit growers, WHAT IS REVOLUTION ? No. i. but there he stops. If he had added, " But mind you use plenty of manure," it would have added immensely to the sense of his advice; but it would have spoilt the sentiment. But, nevertheless, it is a fact, if anything is, that God helps those who help themselves. He will give those fruit growers most fruit who use most manure, and I do not see why they should not be told it. " We have gauged our leader," say the Revolutionists, "we know him down to the ground, his strength and his weakness ; we hold him in the hollow of our hand. We know that we must pay him personal homage, that we must fall down and worship him ; but why shouldn't we ? It amuses him and doesn't hurt us. But we know that if we do wor- ship him he will in his turn give our somewhat shady principles the seal of piety, and Leviathan is very fond of piety ! We may some- times have doubts of his pious efficiency ; we have none at all of his destructive efficiency. We know that he can destroy more in one year than an)' other ten public men can destroy in a generation. That is good enough for us, and now that he has accepted our pay, it is quite certain we shall not allow him to remain idle." 1887. No. XXX. WHAT IS REVOLUTION? CHAPTER TWO. THE last Reform Bill suddenly gave an immense preponderance of political power to what are called the masses, and when it was passed, every one, Tory and Radical alike every one who could understand that two and two made four, proclaimed openly that if any statesman, who had influence with the masses, was un- scrupulous enough to excite them to combine against the classes, Revolution was inevitable. Well, the hour came, and so did the man. The unscrupulous leader sprang to the front, and has excited the masses against the classes in language so bitter, so fierce, so uncomprising, so suggestive, that Mr. Goldwin Smith, a Radical of the old grit, declares that the most envenomed period of the American wars offers no parallel to it. Deliberately, carefully, with great pains, Mr. Gladstone has sown the wind ; do we suppose he is so far wanting in common sense that he would have taken all this trouble if he had not expected to reap the whirl-wind ? Of course he did of course the storm will burst. Like the thousand and one fanatics who have in turn convulsed society, he believes that he is inspired, that his will is God's will, " And pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, Rides on the whirlwind and directs the storm." But he doesn't. Phaeton thought he drove the horses of the sun, but he didn't. It is as certain as anything that he who raises the storm will perish by the storm. The first victim of Revolution is in- variably the reckless man who opens the flood-gates. Of course the mere advocacy of Home Rule for Ireland need not mean Revolution ;. but the way it is advocated very easily may. Home Rule is advocated as the right of the masses against the classes of the rich against the poor, of " les nouvelles couches sociales." It is a demand that the Imperial Parliament be suppressed, that the Empire be broken up, and return to its primordial atoms. There is no use being mealy-mouthed about it, it is too late. If it is granted on the ground on which Mr. Gladstone advocates it, the Imperial system under which we live and have become powerful is at an end. Now, this is what I call Revolution. Others may call it what they like, but that is what it actually is. The man, whoever he is, who tells the masses that poverty and wealth result from misgoverment, makes government responsible for a condition of things that he knows no government can prevent ; he tells the patient that he can cure him when he knows that the disease is incurable. I suppose it does not require a conjuror to prove that there always have been, and always will be, rich and poor, workers and loungers, masses and classes. So long as one half of mankind continues to accumulate, and the other half continues to disperse, it must be so. If all the wealth of the world were equally divided to-morrow WHAT IS REVOLUTION? No. 2. morning, it would be very unequally divided to-morrow night ; the process of accumulating and dispersing would already have begun. How can you prevent those who accumulate from leaving their accumulations to their children, or to those they love best ? Hence comes the silver spoon the privileged class who lounge and don't work. Job was a rich man with his 10, coo sheep, and his lambs and his oxen and his camels and his she-asses, and a very great household-- he was very rich and probably his servants were very poor ; and we may be sure the poor envied the rich, the workers the loungers, those born with a horn spoon in their mouths envied those born with a silver spoon, and those with a silver spoon envied those with a golden spoon just as much then as they do now. This will always be so as long as one man accumulates and anotherdisperses. And, indeed, it would be very disagreeable if it were not so. I don't know how the world would get on if everybody accumulated, or if every one dispersed : it would be very inconvenient ; everybody would be in everybody else's way. There is no novelty in this inevitable antagonism of mankind, neither is there any novelty in vain and mischievous men seeking to turn it to their advantage. The friction between the masses and the classes is universal, unceasing. Both the States- man and the Revolutionist know this ; the only difference is in the way they treat it. The former tries to minimise, the latter to intensify it. I think this is all very plain, and can be read without magnifiers. " Nothing is so easy as to govern by bribery," said Mr. Gladstone to Mr. Parnell when the latter offered the land to the Irish people. Mr. Parnell might now with perfect politeness return the compliment. Nothing is so easy as to excite the masses against the classes the raw is always there, any child can irritate it, if he likes ; but once irritated the wisest of mankind has never been able to calm it down. The means of exciting class irritation are so simple, the results so certain, that to some minds the desire to do it is irrepressible. Those who do so invariably claim to be in- fluenced solely by a desire to help others ; but, unfortunately for them, in every case history proves to a demonstration that the moving cause is a desire to help themselves. The Revolutinary mania is a distinct disease, as distinct as dipsomania or kleptomania, or any other mania. It has been diagnosed scores of times. It generally attacks young men between the ages of 20 and 30 after 40 its attacks are less frequent, and its symptoms less acute. Its invariable course is to moderate as age advances. At 50 few men are revolutionists; at 60 scarcely any; at 70, none. Of course Mr. Gladstone is an exception, and a very remarkable one certainly ; but his is the only case that occurs in the history of the disease. There is absolutely no other instance on record of a man over 75 being attacked with the most acute form of the disease. As the doctors have never seen such a case before, of course they do not know how to treat it. They watch it with intense anxiety, and, in the interest of mankind, pray that it may not be repeated. On one point they are agreed that it is incurable. Mr. Gladstone has his quiver full of them. He is not afraid to speak to his enemy in the gate. " Look at the masses who support WHAT IS REVOLUTION ? No. 2. me," says the modern Sempronia, triumphantly. " These are my jewels Earls Granville, Spencer, Rosebery, Aberdeen, Kimberley, Barons Wolverton, Kensington, and, last not least, the great con- necting link of the classes, Sir William Harcourt. Blue blood, all of them ; blue blood and millions combined ! And then look at these miserable specimens of the classes opposed to me Bright, Chamberlain, Caine, Henry James, Robert Phillips, Jessie Collins, Tyndal, &c, not an earl or a millionaire amongst them ; quite common people." Curiously enough, Mr. Gladstone's specimens of the "masses" are the sons of men who wiped their noses with cambric; whilst the specimens of the " classes " who oppose him are the sons of men, who, as Nadir Shah said of himself, " wiped their noses with their elbows." Now, whether he likes it or whether he does not whether he cares or whether he does not it is a fact, without any doubt what- ever, that in the eyes of the masses, in the eyes of the classes, and in the eyes of that Flying Dutchman " civilised mankind," Mr. Gladstone now stands before the world as the apostle of the English Revolution. He knows perfectly well that his inflammatory appeals to the masses to exercise their newly-acquired power to push aside the classes, and take the government of the country into their own hands, means Revolution. Our Golden Image may be broken up, and become as chaff on the summer threshing floors or it may not at any rate he does not know, and apparently does not care. And why should he care ? At four-score his sands are running out. He may have time to sow the whirlwind ; but it is almost impossible he shall live to reap the storm. He leaves that to others. Vain in his own conceit, confident in his inspiration, dissatisfied with the past, angry with the present, reckless of the future, he pretends to do, what no mortal man has ever yet been able to do, to turn on the tap of Revolution, and turn it off when he likes ; but he can't. Vanity is his Lethe ; it makes him forget. 1887 No. XXXI. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. THE " weak-knee " has knuckled down, the jelly-fish has collapsed, the Prodigal has returned, and the fatted calves are having a bad time of it. The rejoicing over the one sham Unionist that has repented has taken the form of fierce denunciation of the ninety-and-nine just Unionists who need no repentance. Yes, Sir George Trevelyan has returned to the bosom of his afflicted family, and all is forgotten. But oh, aimless Prodigal, "quae te dementia cepit ? " What madness impelled you to go ; and, more wonderful still, what madness has induced you to come back again ? Surely the game was not worth the candle. "Tout comprendre e'est tout pardonner." If we only knew the secret motives that have prompted this astonishing double shuffle we might not only pardon it, but we might actually find it our agreeable duty to class it with the noblest acts of responsible man. This is supposing we could understand Sir George Trevelyan's motives ; but we cannot ; nobody yet that I have heard of attempts either to explain or to excuse it. It is true he has given us his own explana- tion ; but as Dangle says in the " Critic," " Egad, I think the explanation is the harder to be understood of the two." His ex- planation of why he went makes it absolutely impossible to understand the explanation of why he came back again. Of course he declares that since he left Mr. Gladstone, everything has changed ; but this is just what Mr. Gladstone declares has not happened. He swears that nothing is changed, and this is rather awkward for Sir George Trevelyan ; it takes the only puff of wind he had out of his sails. He is, in fact, exactly in the position of Louis XVIII. when he re-entered Paris ; nothing is changed, only there is one Separa- tionist the more ! Quelle mouchc V a pique. What devil has impelled him to an act that has literally set on edge the teeth of the most audacious of political free lances. Only the other day he was amongst politicians quite a superior person, very superior indeed ; now he is a sort of nondescript, " one of the middle sort, betwixt hawk and buzzard." His conduct is useful in one way. It shows how nearly extremes meet, and how even clever men sometimes illustrate the old proverb, " He went out a donkey, and came home a jackass." No one in this world is infallible, not even the youngest, or the oldest ; and, of course, the wisest of mankind sometimes change their minds ; the wiser they are the oftener they change them, it appears to me. Only what the wisest of mankind never do is to give their reasons for changing. Not only is it unpardonable for a public man to give reasons, but he is bound to use such indefinite words and phrases that no traces of former statements and opinions can ever be brought home to him. " Then as I went away," says Reynard the Fox, Author of the " Modern Statesman Handbook," " I whisked my brush over every footstep, so as to THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. destroy all traces of my visit. I learnt the art from my father, and have put it into practice many a time with perfect success." No doubt Reynard the Fox was a master of all cunning, but I believe the Old Parliamentary Hand could have given him a 14 lb. beating over any course in the world. The Scripture Prodigal left his father's house because it was apparently too respectable for him he had a taste for low company. The Unionist Prodigal, on the contrary, has never shown any taste for low company, except politically. He did not leave his paternal roof because it was too respectable, but, on the contrary, because the goings on there were so disgraceful that he could not stand them any longer. The fact is that he discovered that his " Awful Dad " was playing old Harry with everything about the place, making ducks and drakes of property of which he was only trustee. Even when he found out what his unscrupulous relative was doing, he did not go willingly ; he hesitated, he employed every argument an accomplished sophist could invent to excuse his remaining. He expostulated with him, he argued with him, he pointed out that honour, consistency, recent pledges, patriotism, forbade the policy he was pursuing ; but in vain. It was only after he satisfied himself, and satisfied everyone who listened to him, that it was impossible, actually impossible, for him to remain any longer in such company, that he reluctantly went away, telling an admiring world he left his party because he preferred political annihilation to the ruin of his country ; and now he has returned, almost immediately, because he prefers the ruin of his country to political annihilation. At least, this is how we are com- pelled to understand him. Sir George Trevelyan's double conversion, his double confession, " I have sinned before Radicalism and before the G. O. M.," has more than a double political value. No man ever gave so many distinct and final reasons for a political act as he did for leaving Mr. Gladstone. When, therefore, in a few months he can come humbly back, hat in hand, and say, " Although every one of my distinct and final reasons for leaving you still exists, and, indeed, have become more distinct and conclusive every day, yet my faith in you is so strong that I have swallowed them all, and come back to you, asking only to betaken again to your bosom," well may the ''Holy Fox" exclaim with justifiable vanity, "Verily, I have not seen such faith, no, not in Israel ;" and neither has anyone else. Whether Sir George Trevelyan's return is an act of faith or an act of folly I don't know, but this I do know, that all the reasons he gave for leaving a year ago have been intensified twenty times since he left. His " Awful Dad " has not repented of one single act that drove him out of the house. He has not changed one item of his programme ; on the contrary, he is more determined, more audacious, and more reckless than ever. Every day has added proofs of the folly, the wickedness, the impossibility, the actual treason of his proposals. However, everything is a matter of opinion in this world. " Hungry dogs will eat dirty pudding," as the Scripture Prodigal realised when he ate the husks ; but I swear that under the circumstances I should prefer the husks of the Scripture Prodigal to the humble pie of the Unionist one. In politics, as in other professions, sometimes the shortest road to o THE PRODIGALS RETURN. dignities lies through indignities ; but I do think I would rather sweep a crossing than commit such an act of political auto da fc. When political minnows are caught by such baits people say, " Oh, it is only another minnow ! " But here is a Triton, a very big fish indeed, no less than the modern Aristides the man who has probably taken more trouble to be called ''The Just" than did Aristides himself. "Why do you wish to ostracise Aristides?" asked Aristides of the voter who asked him to write his name on the oyster-shell. " Because he takes so much trouble to be called ' The Just,' " was the reply. Landing him is indeed something to be proud of. Sir George Trevelyan was so laborious in marshalling his facts and arguments, and in proving, coram populo, that it was impossible yes, actually impossible that he could agree to Mr. Gladstone's policy, and the world so thoroughly agreed with him that it was impossible that he should remain, that his sudden return has made them look like fools. He has, in vulgar parlance, deliberately put them in a hole. The credulous public has been more completely sold than it has ever been by any previous states- man. " Look at me," said Aristides II. ; " look at me. Mark me well. I am no ordinary man I am Aristides II. ! What other men do for various reasons good, bad, or indifferent I do for one reason alone, because I am ' The Just.' I am a born statesman ; politics are the breath of my nostrils, without them I die ; but sooner than do this thing that my soul abhors, that my conscience and my experience both tell me is disgraceful to myself and ruinous to my country, I will lay down my political life. Am I not a martyr? Am I not worthily called ' The Just ? ' Was Cincinnatus a patch on me ? " How incredulous folk believed and exclaimed, " A Daniel come to judgment ! " At last we had discovered the fabled Phoenix, a Radical who preferred his country to his part}-. It is true some ill-conditioned persons shook their heads, and hummed, " No truth in plaids, no faith in tartan trews, Chameleon like, they change a thousand hues." This chosen of Scotch constituencies professes over much, and alas, these ill-conditioned persons were right. He did profess too much, a very great deal too much. Sir George Trevelyan was not only the most remarkable figure in the Unionist secession because of his exceptional claim to the character of Aristides, but because it was understood that he knew more about Ireland than the author of the Dawn of Creation. Mr. Gladstone did not know, because he did not wish to know, anything about the Clan-na-Gael, the connection of Parnellism and Crime, &c. ; but Sir George Trevelyan did know. His life had been in danger; he had hunted down and hung the Phoenix-park murderers. He knew all about them, and the organisation that employed them. He carried out with remarkable vigour the most severe and comprehensive Crimes Act ever known. He was held up to obloquy, and indirectly charged with complicity with murder, with odious vices. He was lampooned in company with disgusting criminals, and therefore he knew whom he had to deal with, and he is reported to have spoken out THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. with no hesitating tongue. " The law must be enforced," said he ; " Home Rule means separation, and separation means reconquest," &c. It was speaking with this full knowledge of Irishmen and Irish affairs that Sir George Trevelyan, after long and anxious doubt, decided that he could not support Mr. Gladstone ; at least, he thought he so decided, and so did we ; but it appears we were both mistaken ; he had actually decided the very reverse. Radicals generally appear to be cut to one pattern, but there is a difference even in them. Mr. Chamberlain, for instance, is a Radical of Radicals, but when he was taunted with voting with the Tories he replied, " At any rate I am voting with English gentlemen in support of the interests of my country." But such an alliance is gall and wormwood to Sir George Trevelyan, more than his pure Radicalism can stand. " I know that my country is in danger," he said, " I have proclaimed it from the housetops. I know that if I support the Government I may aid in its defence. I know that if I vote with Mr. Gladstone I shall assist in its ruin ; but, sooner than soil the spotless ermine of my Radicalism by voting with the accursed Tories to defend my country, I will vote with the blessed Radicals to destroy it." But this is strange. When Sir George Trevelyan was in office, when he was nightly insulted, outraged, denounced in the House of Commons, who did he look to for support, for sympathy, for encouragement against traducers ? Why, to this same Tory party with whom contact now appears to him a disgrace. No doubt that charity is splendid that induces a man to prefer his traducers to his defenders. Hawk and buzzard again. Individually, I prefer the terrier that bites the hand that punishes, to the spaniel that licks it. But again, of course, tastes differ. " When Mr. Gladstone runs down a steep place," said Lord Shaftesbury (vide his Life, vol. iii., page 451), "his immense majority, like the pigs in Scripture, but hoping for a better issue, will go with with him, roaring in grunts of satisfaction." Well, Mr. Gladstone did run down the steep place, and his immense majority did go with him, roaring in grunts of satisfaction ; but Sir George Trevel- yan was the one piggy who refused to go. When he saw what they were doing he turned tail and bolted in the opposite direction ; but blood was thicker than water. He did not run very far, and no sooner did he see the last of his friends disappear in the waters than away he scampered after them roaring with quite a peculiar grunt of his own. Now, of course, such devotion was very touching, and attracted great attention to piggy ; but the pas seal was rather comical, his end would have been more dignified if he had gone down the steep place with the rest of the herd. And now what is the result of it all ? It is this that of all the turncoats that have startled us with the rapidity of their political toilets, of all the men who have sworn black was black one day, and have taken God and all His saints to witness that black was white the next, Aristides II. is the most remarkable. It is sad that is to say, it is sad to those who believe that " droiture " is the proudest motto of English statesmen. " No man ever lost himself in a THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. straight road," said the Emperor Akbar. Sir George Trevelyan has lost himself at least many of us think so, though probably he does not because he has left the straight road of the English statesman and taken in preference the most tortuous and deceitful of all roads, that of the " sophistical rhetorician." 1887. No. XXXII. BLUSTER, LOGIC, & AUDACITY. IT is, I believe, generally allowed that every one, from the duke to the dustman, in some shape or another possesses a faculty by which he can judge of the goodness or wickedness of his actions. This faculty we call conscience. We all have it, even party politicians, and, stranger still, even Gladstonian-Parnellites claim to have it also. Certainly in their case it is so very small that, like the baby of Midshipman Easy's wet nurse, it don't count. " Please mum, it was such a little one." It is possible to have too much of a good thing. Some of us actually have too much conscience. *' We wear it on our sleeves," as Iago says. But not for daws to peck at, but for goody-goodies to admire. We air it on all occasions ; we take the public into our confidence about it, as other people do about their poor souls. But it is a mistake to profess overmuch about souls and consciences ; least said soonest mended. When a man parades his soul, or his conscience, it is always a hundred to one he is going to take in someone, or try to do so. Poets tell us of " those rods of scorpions and those whips of steel which conscience shakes at us ; " but, as a fact, conscience is not a hard master at all, but a very kind one. It troubles most of us mighty ilittle. Indeed, if it were not for the honour of the thing we should almost be as well without it. Very often we do leave it at home, and never even miss it, and become wonderfully brave and audacious in its absence. Politicians are very independent of this troublesome faculty, for, as a rule, they hand it over to somebody else to take care of. When a man keeps his own conscience there is a certain personal responsibility attached to it ; but when it is in another man's keeping the owner is no more responsible for it than Faust was for his soul when he had handed it over to the Devil. He has a lovely time of it till the reckoning comes. Kindly matrons advertise for babies to take in to nurse, and promise to treat them as their own ; but they don't. And so our political leaders advertise for consciences to take in to nurse, and promise to treat them as their own, and it is possible they do, for they treat their own shamefully. Consciences that have been lent generally return in such a state of shame and depression, and so shrunk up, that even their owners hardly recognise them. I suppose it may be taken for granted that if a man does not take care of his own conscience nobody else will take care of it for him. In China it is held that women have no souls, and a mandarin, hearing a Christian missionary preaching about women's souls, rushed out, saying, " I must go and tell my wife ; she will be so amused to hear she has got a soul." Now, wouldn't it raise a grim smile on the face of many a party politician if he was gravely assured he had a conscience ? I declare I think it would ; but for the sake of argument we will allow that politicians have consciences very, BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY. very small ones, weenie, sickly little things lent or let for a consideration to some hard-hearted leader, who snubs and scolds and starves them till actually they have lost all the qualities of consciences. Now, as a matter of fact, it is of no use lending your conscience ; if you could get rid of it altogether well and good, but you can't. Consciences have a disagreeable habit of every now and then coming home to roost. This is very awkward sometimes for the owner, and places him for the moment in really a very painful position. What is he to say to a conscience he has lent to someone else? Suppose, by way of illustration, that in the lobby or the smoking-room a Gladstonian-Parnellite is boarded by his conscience. " My friend," says the conscience, " I am very glad to have a word with you. I am very unhappy ; you must try and do something for me ; you really must. You remember you lent me to Mr. Gladstone, and I have had a very hard time of it, a very ' unconscientious ' time of it indeed, if you will forgive a bad pun (above the average of the locality, however, I assure you). Now this is not fair it isn't indeed. I get all the kicks and you get all the halfpence. Mr. Gladstone, I speak it with great regret but of course there can be no secrets between us is very hard on. consciences ; he has no bowels of compassion for them whatever ; he is incessantly boxing the political compass himself with a rapidity that is appalling, and he expects us to scamper round with him without a question asked or reason given ; he is always deceiving us. ' You have deceived my master twice,' said the Ambassador of Louis XII. to Frederick, the Catholic. 'Twice,' exclaimed he, with an oath : ' I have deceived him more than ten times.' Well, of course Mr. Gladstone does'nt swear, but I do ; and I swear he has deceived me ten times ; and I declare I believe that, like Frederick the Catholic, he is proud of having done it. I wish you to realise, dear friend, what I suffer day and night on your account ; it is wearing me to a shadow ; I am not half the conscience I was ; soon there will be nothing left of me whatever. Believe me,, consciences do not lie on beds of roses in St. Stephen's. ' Leave all hope behind ' greets them as they pass the portal of this Inferno of Consciences. But I see that you are in a hurry to get to your club, and can't spare much time to discuss matters with me. I would accompany you if I could, if only to see how consciences are treated at clubs and in society ; but of course you have paired me or handed me over to the affectionate care of your Party Whip, and so I must remain here, but I daresay you will be quite as happy without me, only I conjure you not to hand me over again to Mr. Gladstone the life of a conscience with him is awful. But before you go I wish you would to some extent explain to me your true position ; it would be an immense relief to me ; in fact, if I am to remain your conscience, it is necessary you should do so. Ever since I have known you you have been a strong out-and-out Unionist ; in season and out of season you have always paraded your love of the Union, and your determination to stand by it at all costs. Not content with speaking for yourself, you have dragged me in by the ears to corroborate you ; you have constantly had Mr. Gladstone's speeches on your lips, proving the absolute necessity of BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY. the Union, denouncing those men who were marching through anarchy and murder to destroy it, proving how nobly and generously the English Parliament had acted towards Ireland, how it had done far more for that country than it had ever done for England or Scotland, or even gallant little Wales. Well, I have stuck to you like a man, and every time you have appealed to me before your constituents I have placed my hand on my heart and made them a low bow as a proof of my assent. Well, now I find that, without consulting me in the slightest degree, without giving me a chance of " getting out," you have gone slap round and left me what is is vulgarly called in a hole. New, God knows we poor consciences are elastic enough ; we are accustomed to being stretched and strained a good deal ; we are not by any means particular, and can shut our eyes and hold our tongues, at times, with praiseworthy discretion our unfortunate position compels us to do so but on my honour as a conscience, with still some figment of self-respect left, I swear I cannot understand your shaking hands, and patting on the back, and cheering to the echo, the very men who only a year ago you denounced as anarchists, traitors, and even worse. I cannot understand you denouncing the tyranny of the Parliament you have only just been extolling for its generosity ; shouting 'Turncoat,' 'Judas,' at your late colleagues because they still repeat the very same Constitutional formula you repeated with such pride and complacency only a few months ago. Of course nothing is so easy as to quote Mr. Gladstone against himself, only when you do so it is necessary to ascertain in what direction the Great Weathercock was pointing at the moment. But you beat me when I hear you passionately declare that all your carefully rehearsed perorations in favour of the Union were false, and all your denunciations of the Separatists were libellous. I declare I begin actually to doubt my existence. I feel as if my very identity was destroyed. Do I belong to you, or to some one else ? You must relieve my anxiety a little ; you must indeed, or I shall strike work. I can bear most things, as you well know ; but, by thunder, to use a strong expression, you are asking too much, even of your conscience." " Dear Conscience," replies the Separatist, yawning, " keep your shirt on. Don't get in a passion ; it won't mend matters, and it bores me. Lend me your ears the longer the better and I will explain. But I am rather in a hurry ; this atmosphere is very depressing. You see I am the victim of circumstances. That's a good expression, isn't it ? It means a great deal, but defines nothing. Well, I know I lent you to Mr. Gladstone, and to tell you the truth, I wish to goodness you had stayed with him. Just now I really don't want you ; in fact, I don't know what to do with you. You stop the way, and that is very awkward. Conscience, like fire, you know, clear friend, is a good servant, but a bad master. Now, which do you wish to be ? If the former, all well and good ; if the latter, we shall quarrel. When Mr. Gladstone made his inspired volte face I call it inspired, for nothing short of inspiration could have enabled a man to get round half so quick as he did I was taken a little aback. It was some time before I could make BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY. up my mind what to do. There was a time, as you remember, dear Iriend, when we first began our limited partnership, when the interests of country came before the interests of party, and when consistency had an actual parliamentary value. Well, that is all past now ; the interest of party comes first, the interest of country is nowhere ; and as for consistency, ' Oh, no, we never mention it,' ' its name is never heard.' It has actually no market value whatever; in fact, it is withdrawn from circulation. Well, of course, all this will seem to you an entirely fresh departure, but it is all right. You must not be old-fashioned, dear friend. If you are a Gladstonian, you must do as the Gladstonians do. Times change, and we change with them. I have changed, and so, my friend, must you, if you intend to remain with me. Of course, dear Mentor, you know better than any one that I am quite an ordinary sort of a man average as to brains, rather below average as to knees. There is no suspicion of inspiration about me ; and, except tobacco smoke, I evoke very little out of my ' inward consciousness,' 1 as the phrase expresses it. Now that the old-fangled notion of duty to country is pigeon-holed for the time, at any rate my position is considerably simplified. I have only to decide between two courses instead of three. Formerly I had country, self, and party to think of; now country is gone, and there is only self and party. I have to decide how I shall stand best with my party, and how I shall stand best with my constituents. Shall I stand firm to the principles of the Union that Mr. Gladstone has taught me, or shall I join Mr. Gladstone in denouncing these principles as the teaching of the Devil? that is, of course, of the Tory party. I have to ask myself on which side of my political bread is there more butter ? Under which King, Bezonian ? Speak, or die.' Which leader will add most to my popularity amongst my constituents ? Can I afford the luxury of consistency ? Can I afford to tell the truth and shame the Devil that is, vote against Mr. Gladstone, or shall I act a and stick to it ? This is rather an awkward predicament for both of us, dear Mentor, is'nt it ? Awkward for me, but doubly awkward for you ; but you know, ' Needs must when " somebody " drives,' and if 'somebody' is not driving now, I'm a Dutchman. I did not long hesitate. There was no doubt on which side the butter was thickest. Mr. Gladstone, with octogenarian impatience, has so excited the masses against the classes, so impressed the people with a conviction of the tyranny and injustice of the present order of things, so excited the several nationalities against Imperial rule, that revolution appears inevitable. Things can never again settle down on the old lines. He has sown the whirlwind with a fierceness that even I must allow takes one's breath away. I must whirl away with it or face the storm, and that, of course, I cannot do. How can a weak-knee contend against a strong wind ? I should be swept to Jericho or Jehoram, or some place out of sight. Lord Hartin^ton promises law, order ; Mr.' Gladstone promises Revolution. The former says, Respect your neighbour's landmark ; the latter says, Remove it. There cannot be much doubt on which side the numbers who have no landmarks will be. " Le bon Dieu est toujours avec les gros bataillons," whether composed of soldiers BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY. or voters; and so, dear conscience, will I. I also will go with les gros bataillons. Don't you think I am right ? Of course, consistency and your approbation, dear Mentor, go for something ; but not for much when the majority of my constituents go the other way. So the die is cast. I am sorry for you ; I feel it is rather rough on you, but what am I to do ? I must save my political life ; and, after all, Snum cuique is not a bad motto to go through the world with. Is it? Mr. Gladstone is Generalissimo of the Liberal Party, but no longer their leader in the field. He is, in truth, too costly to wear every day ; we want another for working days. He is nearly 80, and has too much to do. What with Hittites, the Greater Gods of Olympus, the Dawn of Creation, Proems, reviews, post-cards, &c, he has only some spare moments to give to the affairs of the kingdom. So, dear Mentor, I have had to look out for another leader to whom I may entrust you. I have found one, and I hope you will like him. The Gladstonian- Parnellites had the choice of three militant leaders Bluster, Logic, and Audacity. Now, Bluster is a great man, very powerful, very clever, very ready, very experienced, with a soft corner in his nature somewhere, it is said, but somewhat unscrupulous (in politics only, bien entendu). Bluster would do very well. He can gyrate almost as quickly as the Great Dervish himself ; but he suffers from two disadvantages. He, like me, is pledged up to the eyes to maintain the Union ; and he, like me, has to swallow all his principles and professions every time he opens his mouth. And, moreover, he has not the courage of his opinions, or rather, of his professions, for what his opinions are I don't pretend to know. Now, the fact of Bluster being a very big man, specially fashioned hollow to swallow his principles without even a wry face, does not help me, who am small, and not built hollow ; and besides, when I am urged to do what I know even without your prompting, dear Mentor is altogether wrong, I want a leader who will give me the necessary courage to do it who will lead me on, not merely point out the road I am to go. The Bombastes Furioso Plan of Campaign that says to us, weak-knees, ' Lead on, brave army ; and when you've won the battle let me know,' reverses my requirements. It is not good enough when my leader urges me with violent speed to illogical and illegal action ; I expect him to back me up, to vote straight himself, not to send me to the lobby and walk out of the House without voting. So Bluster won't do. Then comes Logic. Here is quite another man, no bluster about him cool, collected, logical, consistent, nothing to recant, nothing to explain away, no phrases, no denunciations, no principles or professions to swallow. I should have liked to followed Logic as my leader. There is a consistency and conviction about him that by the side of Bluster and Audacity, is very attractive, and give one almost a feeling of self-respect ; but it is impossible. I have already learnt the whole logic of the Irish question from Mr. Gladstone himself he proved to me step by step, with a fulness of argument and illustration and satire that no one else can equal, the absolute necessity of the Union, and the absolute absurdity of breaking it up; and I know that if I begin to talk Logic now, I should talk the logic of Union as taught me bv BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY. Mr. Gladstone, not the logic of Separation as taught by Mr. Morley. I should be quoting the orders of my Generalissimo against the orders of his Lieutenant, and that would be sheer mutiny. Logic is of no use to a Gladstonian-Parnellite. It is like the sword Hector gave to Ajax : when used in a bad cause it turns against the user. So Bluster and Logic are put on one side, and by the process, of elimination Audacity becomes the leader. Audacity again audacity always audacity that's the quality to help you on in life especially public life. With some poor soulless plodders industry and perseverance produce fair results ; but without audacity they are of very slow growth. Audacity, like Jack's bean-stalk, will grow enough in one night to form a ladder to fortune ; and, besides, audacity has such irresistible attraction to the weaker sort of men. It seems 'to bind and mate them,' as Bacon says, even against their will ; and you know, dear Mentor, we have often agreed that I have always been a little weak about the knees ; and this courage that audacity gives me, even though it is a little Dutch, is very agreeable. Audacity alone is good enough for most things, but when it is combined with talent, energy, quickness, wit, cynicism, journalism, good manners, a kind heart, and a not over-sensitive epidermis, it is powerful indeed. Audacity has nothing to recant,, no professions, or principles to explain' away. He does not condescend to anything so tame as logic. ' Don't be a fool,' says Audacity, ' don't bother yourself to explain your change of front. Deny boldly that you have changed at all. Swear that in your heart you have always been a Home Ruler ; that you only dissembled for a season till the fruit was ripe for plucking, and that even that delay nearly broke your heart. Denounce the Unionists as the real turncoats, and renegades, and traitors. Yell at them. Call them Judas, Barabbas, and murderers, anything you can think of. Don't stick at trifles. Disgrace Parliament. Insult the Speaker. Paralyse the Government. That is the way to get the masses on your side. That is the way to score.' Audacity does not meander about the wrongs of Ireland, &c. He says nothing about that. The question of the Union, says he, is only indirectly a question of Ireland. It is a question of democracy, of les nouvelles couches sociales. It is the chapel bell that is ringing out the old order of things, ringing in the new. Not only in Ireland, but in England, Scotland, and Wales also. The confiscation and nationalisation of land and the expulsion of the landowners in Ireland means the confiscation and nationalisation of land and the expulsion of landowners in England and Scotland and Wales also. The cry of ' No rent, no taxes' in Ireland means the cry of ' No rent, no taxes,' in the rest of the kingdom. Audacity does not advocate separation in the interest of Ireland at all, but in the interest of the democracy, in the interest of the revolution. Now, dear conscience, you can see how all this suits me down to the ground. It is a perfectly fresh departure for me. I leave the past alone, nothing that I have hitherto said about the Union bothers me any longer. The case has entered an entirely new stage. My brief is no longer marked 'Ireland,' but ' Democracy.' It is not that I love the Union less, but that I love Democracy more ; what I said about the Union was quite true, but it belongs BLUSTER, LOGIC, AND AUDACITY. to the past order of things. That is finished. Mr. Gladstone has closed that page, and has opened another, and taken a fresh departure. The new page he has opened is Confiscation ; the fresh departure is Revolution." 1887. No. XXXIII. IN AND OUT-ORDER AND DISORDER. THERE are two Mr. Gladstones, the counterfeit presentment of two brothers ; here they are as like as chalk is to cheese. Mr. Gladstone In Office, and Mr. Gladstone Out of Office. In Supports the police on every occasion. Out Denounces the police on every occasion. In Avenges the brutal murder of Mr. Burke. Out Condones the equally brutal murder of Constable Whelehan. In Employs informers to suppress crime. Out Denounces informers as inciting to crime. In Declines to receive a deputation of London Socialists. Out Overflows with gush for London Socialists. In Pays 8,000 to London shopkeepers for the damage done by the mob in 1886. Out Telegraphs his opinion that the mob are incapable of doing mischief in 1887. In Denounces Mr. Parnell as a traitor. Out Applauds Mr. Parnell as a patriot. In Imprisons Mr. Parnell without trial for using language inciting to rebellion. Out Denounces the imprisonment of Mr. O'Brien for using language ten times as strong. In Declares Ireland has no complaint against England. Out Declares Ireland has 700 years of English oppression to avenge. In Declares that Parliament has done more for Ireland than it has ventured to do for England and Scotland. Out Declares that Parliament has done nothing for Ireland but oppress her. In Calls on all loyal men to strengthen his hand against the Home Rulers. Out Denounces as tyrants and turncoats those who oppose the Home Rulers. In Proclaims 200 meetings in Ireland. Out Declares it is illegal to proclaim a meeting in Ireland. In Appeals daily to the Conservatives to support him in preserving law and order in Ireland. Out Denounces the Conservatives for trying to preserve law and order in Ireland. In Declares that crime dogged the steps of the Land League. Out Declares it is illegal to interfere with the Land League. In Denounces obstruction in Parliament in every shape. Out Supports obstruction in Parliament in every shape. In Declares the majority in Parliament shall govern. Out Declares the majority in Parliament shall not govern. IN AND OUT ORDER AND DISORDER. In Denounces the " no rent" agitation. Out Supports the "plan of campaign." In Denounces the Channel Tunnel. Out Supports the Channel Tunnel. In Ridicules the right of " civilized mankind " to coerce the Egyptian policy of England. Out Appeals frantically to " civilized mankind " to coerce the Irish policy of England. In Destroys Alexandria; commits untold Egyptian atrocities. Out Denounces Bulgarian atrocities. In Slaughters noble Arabs for defending their country. Out Defends treacherous Boers for slaughtering our troops. In In the the name of England blesses Turkish rule in Egypt. Out In the name of England curses Turkish rule in Bulgaria. In Dismisses Colonel Henderson for too little energy. Out Denounces Sir Charles Warren for too much energy. In Declares President Lincoln had saved an empire. Out Declares President Davis had made a nation. But what is the use of going on ? It is sufficient to say that in Opposition he denounces everything he supported in office, and that in office he supported everything he denounces in Opposition. How are you to treat such a weathercock ? As a responsible person, or as a curiosity ? It is difficult to say. If our familiar friend acted in this way, we should say, " My dear fellow, you can't know what you are talking about ; either you must be a fool to talk such nonsense, or you must think us fools for listening to it. Evidently you don't know your own mind ; you are as unstable as water. You change your opinion as easily as you do your button-hole, and as often red camelia to-day, white camelia to-morrow. Your judgment is as unsteady as the feather that dances in your mistress's bonnet. What you swore was black yesterday you swear is white to-day. What you swear is white to-day you swore was black yesterday. You may be colour-blind, but we are not, and our eyes and all our senses tell us that what was black yesterday is black to-day, and that what is white to-day was white yesterday. We know, therefore, that you are wrong absolutely, entirely wrong. What we do not quite know is whether you are trying wilfully to deceive us, or whether you are actually incapable of judgment.'' " When the devil was sick, the devil a saint would be : When the devil was well, the devil a saint was he." In office Mr. Gladstone is as jolly as a sand boy, goes to the play, gives dramatic breakfasts, reads the lessons in church, and intones the Psalms like any other man. In Opposition he is " like a mildew'd ear blasting his wholesome brothers." It is astonishing. In Opposition he plays exclusively to the pit and to the gallery. In office he plays exclusively to the stalls and the boxes. He can't play to the masses and the classes at the same time ; it is not in his nature. He must set them by the ears or he can't act. But what is the use of making a fuss ? Gab is King ; Verbosity is his Prophet. Honesty, Veracity, Consistency are voted slow. " I have on iy one political faith," says Mr. Ruskin, " and that is, that Mr- IN AND OUT ORDER AND DISORDER. Gladstone is a windbag." Well, I have another, but it is a very strong one ; and that is, that Mr. Gladstone is only an agitator, without the smallest leaven of statesmanship. Here is my reason. Thirteen thousand policemen keep guard night and day on the neutral ground between order and disorder, between the respectable and the predatory classes. The predatory classes outnumber the police by hundreds to one. It is only the strong conviction that the law will support them, and public opinion back them up, that enables the police to face these tremendous odds. Remove this confidence in the support of the law and public opinion, and the police will be unable to make head against the promoters of disorder, and we shall have a repetition of the Gordon riots. Order is in possession, and all the powers of the law and of public opinion are on its side. Before Order yields to Anarch)' all these powers will be employed to protect it ; it must be so, it always has been so. In all large communities there are four elements the predatory classes, the police, the soldiers, the owners of property. If the police are strong enough to hold in check the predatory classes, the soldiers are unnecessary ; if the police are not strong enough to hold them in check, the soldiers become necessary at once. When the police are weak, the predatory classes advance, and so do the soldiers (they have been already confined to barracks). When the police are strong, the predatory classes fall back, and so do the soldiers. Well, in the face of this certain danger, Mr. Gladstone is working night and day, by insinuations, by misrepresentations, by exaggerations, by inven- tions, to weaken the police in every possible way, to deprive them of the support of public opinion and of the law, and to rally against them all the forces of anarchy and disorder. Is this the act of the statesman or of the agitator? Can there be any doubt ? It is the work of the agitator, the most reckless, the most unscrupulous, the most unpatriotic this country has ever seen. If his efforts are only partially successful, there will be fighting in the streets. Is this what he wants. Does he wish to see the streets in the hands of the mob, or does he wish to see them in the hands of the soldiers ? He must wish one or the other, or he would not do as he is doing. Perhaps he wishes both. Who knows ? He is very old, and of course he knows a great many things ; but there are some things we know as well as he does or better even. We have a mentor he apparently never consults Common Sense ; and Common Sense tells us some things about him that are not very compli- mentary. Well, Common Sense tells us as follows : That in his present temper Mr. Gladstone would rather ride into office on the back of King Mob than not ride in at all. That we should employ every means in our power to prevent his doing so. That Remember Mitchelstown ; Remember Lyons the Socialist ; telegram to the Bermondsey processionists, mean simply down with the police. That if it was not for the police the predatory classes would sack London. That if public opinion and the law do not support the police they cannot make head against the predatory classes. That if they fail to do so it will become a question of anarchy or martial law. That the police under Lord Salisbury have no more to do IN AND OUT ORDER AND DISORDER. with politics than they had under Mr. Gladstone. That the police did their duty at Mitchelstown, and in the Lyons case. That the times are very critical. That this is the first time in our history that distinct, deliberate, avowed defiance of the law has found an advocate in an ex- Prime Minister of England. That the more Mr. Gladstone tries to weaken the police and loosen the bonds of order, the more we, should try to strengthen them, to " serrer les rangs," and stand shoulder to shoulder in the cause of order. That if Mr. Gladstone took office to-morrow he would be obliged to support the police, employ informers, and carry on the war against lawless- ness, just as it is being carried on now. But Common Sense suggests something else something that in the ears of some persons will sound almost like blasphemy. But, then, Common Sense is no respecter of persons. It is said that Mr. Gladstone is never allowed to read anything that can do him harm. Would it not be as well if this useful censorship was applied to what he writes ? It does not signify to us twopence what entereth into him, but it does signify to us very much indeed what cometh out of him ; and certainly some of his recent utterances, oral and written, have been so audacious, so seditious, so absolutely certain to provoke breaches of the law in England and Ireland, that some of his greatest friends have expressed doubts as to whether he was perfectly responsible for what he says and writes. Really they ought to look after him. Mr. Allman, ex- trouser-presser, and Mr. Gladstone. Ex-Prime Minister, both use seditious language likely to provoke a breach of the peace ; but one sentence from the ex-P.M. is more likely to provoke a breach of the peace than columns from the ex-T.P. Why, then, should the latter be imprisoned and the former not even warned ? Why should the disciple be punished and the apostle go scot free ? This is not common sense, neither is it justice. In China, when a crime is committed, punishment is inflicted on the person who causes the crime, not on the person who commits it. If the law is defied in Ireland and bloodshed follows, or if the aw is defied in England and bloodshed follows, it is not the poor dupes who shed the blood who should be punished, but those whose wicked utterances encouraged them to shed the blood. No doubt the most powerful and the most prominent instigator of defiance to the law at this present moment is Mr. Gladstone, and it appears absolutely certain that bloodshed will follow his teachings, if it has not already done so. If he was in China, he would, without any doubt whatever, be in prison in the place of his humble imitator, the ex-trouser-presser; but then in some matters the heathen Chinee has more common sense than we have. 1887. u No. XXXIV. UNCLE SAM TO JOHN BULL, HOW long will your institutions last ? " asked an American lately of me. " Who knows ? " I answered, " Do you ? " " Yes, friend John. I do. Lend me your ears (they are long enough for us hoth aside) and I will tell you. I will tell you, moreover, what we think of you over the water. Not quite so much as you think of yourselves perhaps, but still it may be of service to you. You have lately taken to the ' one-man ' principle of Government, and, as you always do, you have carried it to a ridiculous extreme. You have got your ' one-man,' and you have given him absolute control over everything you possess. You place him above the Constitution. You give him carte blanche to do what he likes. If anythings offends him he cuts it off, and you applaud him. Your institutions will last just as long as they don't interfere with his will ; the moment they do down they go, Lords, Church, and Crown. How can it be otherwise ? You are a funny people. You seem to prize your public man as you do your wine for age. You get quite hysterical over them as they approach ioo. You apparently like the old bottled flavour in your statesmen. We, on the other hand, prefer a younger and sounder wine. Age commands our respect ; but does not, as with you, command increased con- fidence; on the contrary, ' great men are not always wise,' says Solomon, ' neither do the aged understand judgment.' In fact, we find that age has its disadvantages in public men. They are more vain, more opinionated, more intolerant of opposition : and they lose their memories, and do not ' understand judgement.' Moreover, some are destructives by nature, and in these the instinct ot destruction intensifies with age. With us no man ever presumes to active political life after seventy. I know you say your ' one man ' is ' inspired,' and is, therefore, an exception to every general rule, but we don't care much for inspired men even ' in the wood.' In the Senate we laugh at them. And how is your ' one man ' inspired ? Has he the inspiration of ' Celestial grace,' or is he only ' inspired by the spleen ? ' Both are possible you know. Which is it ? It is important to know. Whichever it is, I think my experience of inspired men in many countries and in many walks of life will safely warrant me in betting ioo to i that this inspiration is all gas that your ' one-man ' is only an ordinary mortal after all. Hear the truth. We sometimes think you have gone mad. You are so foolish, whether through the inspiration of spleen or the inspiration of ' Celestial grace,' we do not know ; but so it is. If you cannot pull yourselves together very quickly you are done. Sentimental Radicalism, which is your present fancy, may be excellent in theory, though we think it nonsense, but practically it is absolutely incompatible with the institutions you possess. They cannot exist together. One must go. Which is it to be ? Which UNCLE SAM TO JOHN BULL. will you stick to, your institutions or your sentiment ? Just now you are like the dog in the fable you have a very fine piece of meat in your mouth, but you are inclined to drop it in order to snap at the shadow in the water. This is literally true. You have, or had, a Constitution and institutions that have, in the opinion of civilised mankind, answered admirably, and some of which even we have envied. What do you think of that ? And you seem inclined to drop them, in order to snatch at an impalpable nothing. As professional Republicans we are aghast to hear your amateurs advocating theories of socialism, of ransom, of spoliation and division, that were laughed out of court in this country twenty years ago, and that would now, in all probability, bring the professor of them in close proximity to a barrel of tar and a bag of feathers. " Positively we talked out, and dismissed as nonsense, proved to demonstration, theories of equality and of government that you are seriously discussing to this day. Do you know that your sentimental Radicalism, your profession of higher motives than your neighbours, and of much higher motives than really influence you, are very irritating to us ? We don't make a parade of our humanity, or bemoan our blood-guiltiness ; but neither do we slaughter men like sheep, as you did in the Soudan, nor destroy commercial cities as you did Alexandria. What a hypocrite you are, John. I really am ashamed of you, and what on earth do you expect to gain by all this pretence of goodness and unselfishness. What is the use of parading your motives, when everybody knows that your motives are the same as other nations' motives your own interest ? With all your loud professions of superior political morality, we in America do not for one moment allow that there is a pin's head to choose between your public men and ours. In fact, during the last ten years you have rather startled us ; your political consciences must have had a bad time of it ; we doubt if any have survived. Your public men have swallowed more principles and denied more promises than ours have done in half a century. I cannot tell you how many pegs you have gone down in our estimation since Majuba Hill, and the desertion of General Gordon. We hardly recognise you as the same breed ; the bull dog seems transformed into the spaniel. Instead of showing your teeth when you are struck, you fawn on the hand that chastises you. " My dear John, we are sorry for you ; we are indeed. We are not very fond of you, but we like you next to ourselves ; and what we liked best in you was the bull-dog grip that made your Empire, not the spaniel whine that is losing it. Actually, when we look at you we feel inclined to exclaim, ' Ichabod, thy glory is departed ! ' If we want to be reminded how Englishmen spoke and thought and acted thirty years ago, we have to look for him in Australia or Canada, or New Zealand, or America. It is a fact that we have a great deal more of your old spirit than you have yourselves. Friend John, you are in a bad way; if you cannot retrace your steps from the debilitating atmosphere of sentimental Radicalism that now surrounds you, and return to the more bracing atmosphere of common sense, you are done, done to a moral. You have very little time. You are literally approaching the brink of Imperial and p UNCLE SAM TO JOHN BULL. Constitutional convulsion. Have you lost all pride in your Empire, in your race, in your grand history in the mighty dead whose deeds have made the name of England ring throughout the world ? We in America have had our trial, and a crucial one it was ; but the bull-dog spirit of the old breed saved us. We, too, had vain sophists, and sentimentalists, and men incapable of national pride, and men of jaw, as you have now ; but we soon put them on one side, and declared that our kingdom should not be broken up. But there were ' men ' in those days. We had ' men ' amongst us ? Have you, excuse the enquiry, have you any ' men ' amongst you ? And if they come to the front will you stand by them ? The great difference between us, dear friend, is that when our great trial came we were guided by ' law.' Now yours has come on you, you are guided entirely by ' jaw.' What strikes your friends in this country as the worst symptom in your case is the universal apathy that seems to have overtaken you. Nothing much seems to rouse you ; you seem prepared for anything. Your Constitution, your in- stitutions, the unity of your kingdom, your vast Empire, seem to have lost their interest for you. You do not seem to look to the past or to the present, but to some indefinite future some great impending change. You seem to think that your institutions, of which a few years ago you were so proud, are now not worth the trouble of defending. Of course institutions that are violently attacked, and which nobody thinks in their interest to defend, are doomed ; they must go by the board, and that very quickly. Your case is a very simple one we have diagnosed it long ago. All classes are doing badly ; there is a general shrinkage all round. With the exception of a few bankers and brewers, and dealers in money, everybody is losing money. You are apathetic, indifferent,. and will soon be discontented, because you feel that goodness is going out of you ; because you are getting poorer. We in this country see all this very plainly, but you are so infatuated you will not see it. It is not that your institutions have suddenly failed, it is because your ridiculous theories of Free Trade have imposed conditions on you that make profitable labour impossible conditions under which your land must go out of cultivation, and your factories give up producing. " Time was, forty years ago, my poor friend, when you had a complete monopoly of every manufacturing industry, and you laughed at the possibility of any nation competing with you. Forty years have changed all that. We see it ; all the world sees it except yourself, and you won't see it. None so blind, you know, dear John, as those who won't see. The French, the Belgians, the Germans, the Austrians, we ourselves, can produce almost every thing cheaper, and, in many cases, better than you can, and as you admit our goods to your markets, of course we simply swamp you. Friend John, it is time for you to reconsider your position. You are no longer the first industrial nation in the world ; you are not, indeed, even the second. You will soon be out of the industrial race altogether, if you do not take steps to save yourselves. Let me give you a little advice. Mistrust inspired statemen, stick to common sense. Prefer the man who insists that white is white UNCLE SAM TO JOHN BULL. and black is black, to him who proves to you that black is white and white is black. Beware the ' glittering eye ' that ' holds ' you against your better judgment. It more often means madness than wisdom. Remember that ' great men are not always wise ; neither do the aged understand judgment.' Consider the requirements of your industries as they are now and as they were forty years ago. Don't suppose that you will do yourself much good by shifting political power into the hands of the least educated. Above all things, remember that the majority is nearly always wrong, and that in nineteen cases out of twenty the vox populi is only the voice of .the interested agitator." This is the warning given me by my American friend. I leave your readers to judge whether there is anything in it. 1887. No. XXXV. A REMARKABLE SPEECH. OF course the opinions of Mr. Burke or Mr. Fox on the Act of Union ioo years ago no more affect the question of Home Rule to-day than their opinions on the vexed question of dry or sweet affects the present taste for champagne. They gave their opinions according to their lights as to the probable result of a great experiment. One said to John Bull, "The Act of Union will give you the stomach-ache;" the other said, "It won't." But neither of them could possibly tell; they could only speculate. But the Union of Great Britain and Ireland is no longer an experiment ; we have now had 80 years' experience of its actual working, and what, in most cases, is the deliberate, unprejudiced opinion of men of light and leading as to the result ? What has the experience of 80 years taught us ? That is the question. Shall we insist on maintain- ing the Act of Union, even by force, or shall we cut the painter and let our erring sister drift away ? Public reason and the public con- science have been so dazed and staggered by Mr. Gladstone's fierce and unexpected denunciations of alien rule, of foreign tyranny, of 700 years of oppression, of nationalities suppressed, of "savage laws savagely administered ; " his appeals to justice, to public opinion, to lawbreakers, to dynamiters, to the proclaimed enemies of England all over the world, have been so passionate and indiscriminate that many amongst us have got mixed up and confused, and exclaim with trepidation oil suis-je ? Therefore it is a national relief to come across a carefully-worded and elaborate resume of the whole case a plain unexaggerated statement of the points at issue between the two countries ; that treats of the past, present, and future of the question, by a leading statesman now living, with a completeness that leaves actually nothing to be desired. It is, indeed, an unspeakable relief; it gives one breath- ing time, and actually offers us a chance of regaining the straight road. The vigorous and inspiriting words that claim for the unity of the Empire the very first rank amongst national duties ; that declares boldly, and in the face of the world, that, good as is the law of conciliation, there is yet a higher and a permanent law, and that is national duty; that declares that though England desired to attach Ireland to her by the silken cords of love, yet that force may be necessary to prevent national disruption, and to put Parlia- ment right with the national conscience, with the opinion of the world, and with the principles of justice, is, word for word, the language and the arguments of Lord Hartington and the Liberal Unionists. The indignant terms in which this remarkable speech denies that the Imperial Parliament has ever refused to remedy the grievances of Ireland, that insists that there is not a single question that the Imperial Parliament is unequal to deal with ; the crushing statement that there is nothing that Ireland has asked A REMARKABLE SPEECH. that the Imperial Parliament has refused that, in fact, the Imperial Parliament has actually done for Ireland what it would have scrupled to do for England and for Scotland, raises this speech to the level of a State Paper, that, as far as argument is concerned, has disposed of Home Rule for all time. There is no mistaking the contemptuous banter that sums up Irish grievances in their inability to catch fish, and describes the only inequalities between the two countries as the levying of certain taxes on Englishmen and Scotchmen that are not levied on Irishmen, and the free grants of public money in Ireland for purposes for which it is not granted in England and Scotland. It ridicules the idea of Home Rule by the example of Scotland and Wales, and denounces as absurd the policy that Would disintegrate the great capital insti- tutions of this country for the purpose of making ourselves ridicu- lous in the sight of all mankind, and destroying our power of doing good. In the endless flood of useless utterances, this remarkable speech has been very much overlooked ; but it is not yet too late. The matter is treated in so calm, argumentative, exhaustive, and reasonable a manner that every one who reads it must feel that at length this burning question is presented to him in an intelligible form. It is to my mind almost a national duty to have the speech reprinted and put into the hands of every voter in the three kingdoms. "This United Kingdom, which we have endeavoured to make a United Kingdom in heart as well as in law, we trust will remain a United Kingdom ; and although, as human beings, the issues of great events are not in our hands, but are directed by a higher Power, yet we intend and mean, every one of us, high and low, not those merely who meet within this hall, but those who crowd the streets of your city, and of every city from the north to the south of this island we intend that it shall remain a United King- dom. We are told that it is necessary for Ireland to close her relations with the Parliament of this country and to have a Parlia- ment of her own. Well, now, why is Parliament to be broken up ? Has Ireland great grievances ? What is it that Ireland has demanded from the Imperial Parliament and that the Imperial Parliament has refused ? It will not do to deal with this matter in vague and shadowy assertions. I have looked in vain for the setting forth of any practical scheme of policy which the Imperial Parliament is not equal to deal with, or which it refuses to deal with, and which is to be brought about by Home Rule. So far as my research has gone, I have seen nothing except that it is stated that there is a vast quantity of fish in the seas that surround Ireland, and if they had Home Rule they would catch a great deal of that fish. But there are fish in the seas that surround England and Scotland. England has no Home Rule, and Scotland has no Home Rule ; but we manage to catch the fish. You would expect when it is said that the Imperial Parliament is to be broken up that, at the very least, a case should be made out showing there were great subjects of policy and great demands necessary for the welfare of Ireland, which representatives of Ireland had united to ask, and which the representatives of England, Scotland, and A REMARKABLE SPEECH. Wales had united to refuse. There is no such grievance ; there is nothing that Ireland has asked and which this Parliament and this country has refused. This Parliament has done for Ireland what it would have scrupled to do for England and for Scotland. What are the inequalities of England and Ireland ? I declare that I know none, except that there are certain taxes still remaining which are levied on Englishmen and Scotchmen, and which are not levied over Irishmen ; and likewise there are certain purposes for which public money is freely and largely granted in Ireland, and for which it is not given in England and Scotland. This seems to me to be a very feeble case indeed for the argument that has been made, by means of which we are told that the fabric of the united Parlia- ment of this kingdom is to be broken up. But if the doctrines of Home Rule are to be established in Ireland, I protest, on your behalf, that you will be just as well entitled to it in Scotland, and, moreover, I protest on behalf of Wales that they are entitled to Home Rule there. Can any sensible man, can any rational man sup- pose that, at this time of day, in this condition of the world, we are going to disintegrate the great capital institutions of this country for the purpose of making ourselves ridiculous in the sight of all mankind, and destroying any power we possess for bestowing benefits through legislation on the country to which they belong ? One word more on this subject, and it is this. People say we have tried to conciliate Ireland, and that we have failed. I do not admit that Ireland is not going to be conciliated ; but I say this, that we must always keep in mind that there is a higher law to govern the actions of Parliament and of politicians than the law of conciliation, good as that law may be. We desire to conciliate Ireland, and we desire to soothe her people the wounded feelings and painful recollections of her people. We desire to attach her to this country in the silken cords of love ; but there was a higher and paramount aim in the measures that Parliament has passed, and that was that it should do its duty. It was to set itself right with the national conscience, with the opinion of the world, and with the principles of justice ; and when that is done, I say fearlessly, that, whether conciliation be at once reached or not the position of this country is firm and invulnerable." This remarkable speech, remarkable, indeed, in every way, was delivered by the Prime Minister of England, Mr. William Ewart Gladstone, at Aberdeen, on the 26th of September, 187 1. I am told that this is the same Mr. Gladstone who now denounces as traitors, turncoats, tyrants, &c, those who still act up to the noble truths he then enunciated. I decline to believe it ; it appears to me impossible. There is a limit to all things, even to the gyra- tions of Jim Crow. Oh, fie, fie, fie ! Thy sin 's not accidental. It 's a trade. 1887. No. XXXVI. INSPIRATION. 41 TV JR. GLADSTONE is inspired on the Home Rule question," J,VA says Hysteria. "Nonsense," says Common Sense ; "he's no more inspired than you or I are." " But he tells us he is," urges Hysteria. " Well, then, he is making a fool of you," replies Common Sense. " He is inspired just as much as Mr. Parnell or Dr. Tanner is inspired, not a bit more nor less." But Hysteria won't be undeceived. Inspiration is too good a card to throw away without a struggle. " The work in which I am nqw engaged," says Mr. Gladstone, " is one of the noblest causes that ever wakened up the energies of mankind, or ever asked and won the favour of the Most High." " A work," he goes on to say, "which it is not profane and irreverent to say the Prince of Peace would recognise and bless." Now, wooing and winning are very different things. It is only in the very extreme cases of religious hysteria that the poor patient ever ventures to assert that he has won the favour of the Most High. No wonder such audacious nonsense was received with shouts of " He's a jolly good fellow." Nothing fetches the many-headed like audacity. Now, according to Mr. Bright, Lord Selborne, and 19 out of every 20 thoughtful and educated men in this country, the work that Mr. Gladstone has at present set him- self to do with his whole heart is to assist a foreign conspiracy to break up the British Empire. Of course, love of country, pride of race, and all that sort of thing is a matter of taste, a question of degree. In England just now it is at zero ; but still, low as it is, it does seem comical to ask Englishmen to assent to the proposition that a foreign conspiracy to destroy their Empire is the noblest cause that ever wakened up the energies of mankind ! What an awful community of scoundrels we must be if this is true. It may be possible that Home Rule has won the favour of the Most High nobody knows ; it is quite certain that Mr. Gladstone does not know, and it seems to me very profane of him to say he does. I do really believe this dragging the awful name of the Most High into a mere political discussion is probably as profane and irreverent an act as can be conceived. So utterly profane is it that you cannot even discuss it without profanity ; without saying and hinting at things that you feel it is profane to say and hint at. Familiarity with sacred subjects is far more certain to induce contempt for them than the most openly expressed contempt. To ignore the Most High altogether is not so profane as to presume to bring him down to your own level, and to claim His confidence. It is disgusting there is no other word for it. Of course many people think there is a certain amount of profanity in praying to the Most High for special objects, without considering whether your good may not mean somebody else's harm. I think it is only silly. If, unfortunately, each person got what he prayed INSPIRATION. for, the world would be in a nice pickle. Prayer would soon be at a discount. It certainly seems somewhat ridiculous for one farmer to pray for rain to make his roots grow, whilst his neighbour is praying for dry weather to get in his crops. But though thousands pray every day for the furtherance of the object they have for the moment at heart, I never remember one who ventured to declare that he had secured the blessing of the Prince of Peace and had won the favour of the Most High. What a silly jargon of words, meaning absolutely nothing. Certainly Mr. Gladstone is unlike any man that ever breathed. He is a phenomenon, perhaps, not a man. But he is not a god ; he has no divine attributes about him what- ever. Positively he knows no more of the will of the Most High than the very humblest of us all. What does he mean, then, when he talks about having won the favour of the Most High ? Does he mean that he, Mr. William Ewart Gladstone, has been in com- munication with the Most High and the Prince of Peace on the subject of Home Rule, and that they have expressed approval of his scheme ? Now, every man, woman, and child knows absolutely that Mr. Gladstone has had, and can have, no communication from the Most High on the question of Home Rule or any other ; and that when he says, or implies, that he has, he is saying and imply- ing what is simple nonsense. " It is very childish," say his friends, " it is a way he has ; he has always done it ; it amuses him, and it does not hurt us on the contrary, it has an immense effect with the masses." It may be so ; but, nevertheless, it is a most offensive way of taking the name of the Most High in vain. Fortunately, it is not catching. No one out of the pulpit, in any country in the world, practises the sanctam insaniam of Mr. Gladstone. Three years ago he described this same work, identically the same work, carried on by identically the same men, and by identi- cally the same means, as treason, rapine, crime, &c, and imprisoned a,ooo persons, more or less, for supporting it. Had the Prince of Peace recognised and blessed it at that time ? Had Home Rule then asked and won the favour of the Most High ? Was it then one of the noblest causes that ever wakened the energies of man- kind ? Now this is really very important for Mr. Gladstone. It affects his favourite pose as the confidant of the Most High. Three years ago he led us to believe he was inspired ; but on that occasion his inspiration took the form of preserving the Empire, now it takes the form of destroying it. The contradiction is rather startling. It is not startling to see Mr. Gladstone spin round like a dancing dervish. We are accustomed to that, but it is startling to see his sources of inspiration spin round with him. We must conclude that three years ago, when he denounced Parnellism and crime, and cast Mr. Parnell into prison, Parnellism and crime had not then asked and won the favour of the Most High. It would be most interesting to know when this extraordinary incident took place, and how. Mr. Gladstone, I suppose, knows. Ought he not to make a clean breast of it. Did he follow the commands of the Prince of Peace to become a Home Ruler ? Or did he persuade the Most High that Home Rule was the right thing ? Did Mr. Gladstone follow or lead ? He must have done one or the other. Which does INSPIRATION. he wish us to believe ? Cromwell, perhaps, claimed a certain amount of inspiration, and he was always consistent ; he did not one day say God was on the side of the Parliament, and the next day He was on the side of the King, And then Cromwell was a great Englishman. I don't think a foreign conspiracy to break up his country would have been described by him as one of the noblest causes that ever wakened up the energies of mankind. I wonder what spectacles Mr. Gladstone wears, evidently they magnify too much. When Mr. Gladstone is a Unionist he assures us that the Most High is in favour of the Union. When he is a Separatist he assures us that the Most High is in favour of separation. But when he becomes a Unionist again, as he certainly will when the cat jumps round, what will he tell us then ? Not content with dragging in the opinions of dead men, of which he can know nothing, he now drags in the opinion of the Almighty. Un- doubtedly, it is profane to discuss such a subject, but then the odium of profanity does not rest on those who ridicule the preposterous- assumption of Divine inspiration, but on those who have the audacity to assume it. If Sir William Harcourt, or Lord Rosebery, or Mr. Morley, or Mr. Parnell, or Doctor Tanner were to assure us the Prince of Peace was on their side, we should laugh at them, but they could not condescend to such nonsense; but everyone of these gentlemen knows exactly as much about the opinion of the Most High on this matter as Mr. Gladstone. The Great God of the Christians, the Ens Entium of eternity, cannot be brought down to the level of the greater gods of Olympus, who walked and talked with mortals in the shady groves of Mount Ida. Yes ; Mr. Gladstone is inspired I grant it ; but it is by the vox populi, not, as he would have us. believe, by the vox Dei. 1887. No. XXXVII. THE RAIL-SPLITTER AND THE WORD-SPLITTER. TWENTY-SIX years ago our American cousins had their con- stitutional crisis. The Southern States wanted to cut the painter and drift away from the Northern States ; but fortunately for them, their leading statesman thought otherwise. He was a rail-splitter by trade; a strong man, of few words ; accustomed to use the Scythian phrase, to call a spade a spade, a horse a horse ; a man who never went back from his word. And he said, " No ; though the South can boast as noble sons as the North, as good lawyers, orators, soldiers, and honourable gentlemen ; though the people demand separation to a man, they shall not have it. They shall not, so long as I can wag a finger, break up the United States." So spake America's "Grand Old Man;" and he was right. And he was a strong man, and succeeded, and saved the Union. Well, now England has her constitutional crisis. Ireland wishes to cut the painter and drift away from the United Kingdom; but unfortunately for her her leading statesman is a " word- splitter" by trade, not a "rail-splitter." A man of words "a word-catcher that lives on syllables;" words are to him what the mist was to his friends, the Greater Gods of Olympus, to conceal his flight when worsted in the battle. He scorns the Scythian phrase. Plain language is unknown to him. He calls a spade a shovel, and a horse a quadruped, in order that at some future time he may swear he meant a cow, or a jackass, or an elephant, or a camelo- pard anything, in fact, but a horse. The man of few words saved the United States. The man of many words threatens to ruin the United Kingdom. When the Southern States demanded separation the Grand Old Rail-Splitter said, No, you shall not go ; I will strain the resources and the constitution of my country till they break. I will call out my last man, and stake my last bottom dollar before you shall mutilate that glorious tree whose branches overshadow the earth : and I know that future generations of Americans will say that I was right and that I have done my duty. And the G.O.R.S. was right ; Americans already say, and will always say, that he was right, and that he did his duty. Well, our Grand Old Word-Splitter takes the very opposite view of national duty. When Ireland demands separation he says Yes, by all means, you shall go. It is true the party who demand separa- tion number amongst them no distinguished men, and is chiefly supported by foreign conspiracy; it is true that those who are loudest in their demand for this separation are the sworn and boastful enemies of England ; but still you have 86 votes ; and if you continue to support me I will strain the Constitution till it breaks. I will fan into flames if I can the revolutionary spirit of the country ; I will set class against class the masses against the classes ; I will invoke the assistance of the mob in the streets, of THE RAIL-SPLITTER AND THE WORD-SPLITTER. your enemies over sea. I will make Constitutional Government impossible, Parliamentary Government a farce, in order that I may break up the United Kingdom, and let you go. I myself will lay the axe to the root of this cursed upas tree of English domination, .and hew it branch from branch till not one remains to poison the earth ; and, of course, future generations of my countrymen will .say that I was right ; that I was a Grand Old Man ; and that I did my duty. So says the G.O.W.S. But he is wrong. Already his countrymen are beginning to say, You have not done your duty; you have betrayed your country. The " rail-splitter " will be for ever remembered by the Americans as the man who staked every- thing to keep America a great country. The " word-splitter " will, if I am not much mistaken, be for ever remembered by the English people as the man who did his best to make England a small country. I will do anything everything to preserve the unity of my country, said Mr. Lincoln ; I will do anything and everything to destroy the unity of my country, says Mr. Gladstone. Both God and man stand aghast at such destructive fury in a man of four- score. Mankind has never before seen anything like it. Elephants occasionally become destructive in their old age, and are called rogues, and the ignorant natives worship them, believing they represent the power of evil ; but those who are entrusted with the public safety put them in restraint. Well, the ignorant in England, when they see the destructive fury of Mr. Gladstone also believe him to be inspired, and so do I, by the power of evil. Oh, for the Scythian phrase? Shall we never hear it again? Is it dead as far as the English language is concerned '? Shall we never more hear a spade called a spade a traitor a traitor? How much longer are we to be bamboozled with the ridiculous " Pidgeon English " that inverts and obscures our mother tongue ; that splits up words till they have no meaning to them whatever, that dis- tinguishes between war and military operations, between inciting to crime and complicity with crime ? How much longer are we to listen to the shameful morality that teaches that it is an honourable thing for a statesman to go back on his word, to deny his pledges, to swallow his principles ; that teaches that there is only one sin a party man may not commit, only one sin that shall not be forgiven him, and that is the dam- nable sin of consistency ? If, during the agony of the American crisis, the "word-splitter" had appealed to the American people to break up the Union, and let their erring sister go, what reply would they have given him ? And what reply ought he to get now from Englishmen when he appeals to their sworn and bitter enemies to come over to help him to compel them to let their erring sister go ? What answer? I think every true Englishman knows in his heart what his answer should be. It is possible that before very long the world may know it too. Talk of American opinion ! Does not every lisping child know that there is not a man of light and lead- ing in America, who is not bidding for the Irish vote, who does not regard with disgust the shameless appeal to the worst elements of their nation to come and range themselves under Mr. Gladstone's umbrella ? Once before Mr. Gladstone got us into collision with No. XXXVII. THE RAIL-SPLITTER AND THE WORD-SPLITTER. TWENTY-SIX years ago our American cousins had their con- stitutional crisis. The Southern States wanted to cut the painter and drift away from the Northern States ; but fortunately for them, their leading statesman thought otherwise. He was a rail-splitter by trade ; a strong man, of few words ; accustomed to use the Scythian phrase, to call a spade a spade, a horse a horse ; a man who never went back from his word. And he said, " No ; though the South can boast as noble sons as the North, as good lawyers, orators, soldiers, and honourable gentlemen ; though the people demand separation to a man, they shall not have it. They shall not, so long as I can wag a finger, break up the United States." So spake America's " Grand Old Man ; " and he was right. And he was a strong man, and succeeded, and saved the Union. Well, now England has her constitutional crisis. Ireland wishes to cut the painter and drift away from the United Kingdom ; but unfortunately for her her leading statesman is a " word- splitter" by trade, not a "rail-splitter." A man of words "a word-catcher that lives on syllables;" words are to him what the mist was to his friends, the Greater Gods of Olympus, to conceal his flight when worsted in the battle. He scorns the Scythian phrase. Plain language is unknown to him. He calls a spade a shovel, and a horse a quadruped, in order that at some future time he may swear he meant a cow, or a jackass, or an elephant, or a camelo- pard anything, in fact, but a horse. The man of few words saved the United States. The man of many words threatens to ruin the United Kingdom. When the Southern States demanded separation the Grand Old Rail-Splitter said, No, you shall not go ; I will strain the resources and the constitution of my country till they break. I will call out my last man, and stake my last bottom dollar before you shall mutilate that glorious tree whose branches overshadow the earth : and I know that future generations of Americans will say that I was right and that I have done my duty. And the G.O.R.S. was right ; Americans already say, and will always say, that he was right, and that he did his duty. Well, our Grand Old Word-Splitter takes the very opposite view of national duty. When Ireland demands separation he says Yes, by all means, you shall go. It is true the party who demand separa- tion number amongst them no distinguished men, and is chiefly supported by foreign conspiracy; it is true that those who are loudest in their demand for this separation are the sworn and boastful enemies of England ; but still you have 86 votes ; and if you continue to support me I will strain the Constitution till it breaks. I will fan into flames if I can the revolutionary spirit of the country ; I will set class against class the masses against the classes ; I will invoke the assistance of the mob in the streets, of THE RAIL-SPLITTER AND THE WORD-SPLITTER. your enemies over sea. I will make Constitutional Government impossible, Parliamentary Government a farce, in order that I may break up the United Kingdom, and let you go. I myself will lay the axe to the root of this cursed upas tree of English domination, and hew it branch from branch till not one remains to poison the earth ; and, of course, future generations of my countrymen will say that I was right ; that I was a Grand Old Man ; and that I did my duty. So says the G.O.W.S. But he is wrong. Already his countrymen are beginning to say, You have not done your duty; you have betrayed your country. The " rail-splitter " will be for ever remembered by the Americans as the man who staked every- thing to keep America a great country. The " word-splitter " will, if I am not much mistaken, be for ever remembered by the English people as the man who did his best to make England a small country. I will do anything everything to preserve the unity of my country, said Mr. Lincoln ; I will do anything and everything to destroy the unity of my country, says Mr. Gladstone. Both God and man stand aghast at such destructive fur}' in a man of four- score. Mankind has never before seen anything like it. Elephants occasionally become destructive in their old age, and are called rogues, and the ignorant natives worship them, believing they represent the power of evil ; but those who are entrusted with the public safety put them in restraint. Well, the ignorant in England, when they see the destructive fury of Mr. Gladstone also believe him to be inspired, and so do I, by the power of evil. Oh, for the Scythian phrase ? Shall we never hear it again ? Is it dead as far as the English language is concerned '? Shall we never more hear a spade called a spade a traitor a traitor? How much longer are we to be bamboozled with the ridiculous " Pidgeon English " that inverts and obscures our mother tongue ; that splits up words till they have no meaning to them whatever, that dis- tinguishes between war and military operations, between inciting to crime and complicity with crime ? How much longer are we to listen to the shameful morality that teaches that it is an honourable thing for a statesman to go back on his word, to deny his pledges, to swallow his principles ; that teaches that there is only one sin a party man may not commit, only one sin that shall not be forgiven him, and that is the dam- nable sin of consistency ? If, during the agony of the American crisis, the "word-splitter" had appealed to the American people to break up the Union, and let their erring sister go, what reply would they have given him ? And what reply ought he to get now from Englishmen when he appeals to their sworn and bitter enemies to come over to help him to compel them to let their erring sister go ? What answer? I think every true Englishman knows in his heart what his answer should be. It is possible that before very long the world may know it too. Talk of American opinion ! Does not every lisping child know that there is not a man of light and lead- ing in America, who is not bidding for the Irish vote, who does not regard with disgust the shameless appeal to the worst elements of their nation to come and range themselves under Mr. Gladstone's umbrella ? Once before Mr. Gladstone trot us into collision with THE RAIL-SPLITTER AND THE WORD-SPLITTER. American public opinion, and he got the snub direct. May we hope that he may get the snub final ! In the American war Mr. Gladstone espoused the cause of the South, said Mr. Davis had made a nation, and, it was said at the time, speculated in Confede- rate Bonds. Now, it was the Confederate Bonds that enabled the Con- federate States to build the Alabama; and, therefore, every holder of Confederate Bonds, more or less directly, assisted to create the Alabama claims. Mr. Gladstone, therefore, if report was true, assisted the Confederate States to build the Alabama, and then compelled us to pay for the ravages she committed. And now, again, he is bringing us into collision with American feeling. He is appealing to every one in America who hates England, to those associations who openly boast of the damage they have done her, and of the damage they will do to her, to come over, assassins, dynamiters, and all to range themselves under his umbrella, and strengthen his hand. "These infernal fellow-countrymen of mine," says he, " won't do as I wish; come over and help me to compel them." He may be absolutely certain that not one true American will listen to this shameful appeal. It is astounding ; and I ask again what answer should Mr. Gladstone get from his countrymen for such a craven blow? Mr. Gladstone just now seems to have got America on the brain ; the Chief " Big Collars " visits the Chief " Red Shirt," and asks him a savage from the Far West, who did not speak a word of English, who had scarcely seen an Englishman what he thought of the entente cordiale between America and England. But this, of course, was dotage ; he might as well have asked him what he thought of the Decalogue or the Dawn of Creation. With astounding assurance Mr. Gladstone tells us that Ireland stops the way ; but any one can see with half an eye that it is Mr. Gladstone himself, and Mr. Gladstone alone who stops the way. It is he who is the lion in the path, and will let no one pass till his rage is pacified. Let us exactly realise the position. It is Mr. Gladstone, the Old Parliamentary Hand, ex-Prime Minister of England, who is utilising the experince of 50 years to make Con- stitutional Government and Parliamentary Government impos- sible ; who is doing his utmost to smash up the ladder by which he has mounted to fame ; who, like the old Border cattle lifters says to his enemies, " Thou shalt want ere I want." If I do not rule no one else shall ! Has it become a fiction that the Queen's Government must be carried on ? Does Constitutional opposition mean Parliamentary paralysis ? Lord Salisbury has a majority of 100 in the House of Commons, and an overwhelming majority in the House of Lords. And yet Mr. Gladstone says, " You shall not carry on the Queen's Government. You shall not govern. I and my minority will prevent it." What does it mean ? Does it mean that the part is greater than the whole? That the minority in Par- liament is more powerful than the majority ? That a majority of a 100 is not sufficient to enable a Government to govern ? If so,, then representative institutions have broken down, and Parlia- mentary Government is proved to be a sham. But will the majority permit this ridiculous imposition for it is nothing else to THE RAIL-SPLITTER AND THE WORD-SPLITTER. continue ? Has not a majority its duties as well as a minority ? Is it not the duty of the majority in Parliament to carry out the legislation that the majority in the country demand ? The present Parliament was elected to save the Union. Are they not to do it ? They have a clear majority of ioo in the House of Commons. Is not that enough ? Are they to hold their hand because a vain, disappointed politician bids them ? The Government say, the country desires that the Union should be maintained ; our official experience enables us to state that this Bill is absolutely necessary to maintain the Union ; we are responsible to the English people for the necessity of this Bill, and we accept that responsibility. But Mr. Gladstone, who has no present responsibility, who has no present official information, says " this Bill is not necessary, and in spite of the wishes of the people and your Parliamentary majority you shall not pass it ; " but every Englishman, Scotch- man, and Irishman knows that the opposition to this Bill is a sham, that it is not the Bill that the minority oppose, but the Government. Every one knows that the Bill is to restrain lawless- ness, not to repress liberty to protect the minority, not to coerce majority ; to enable honest men to do their duty, and fulfil their obligations in peace and safety ; and men are actually beginning to ask themselves whether honest men do not require help to do their duty and fulfil their obligations in peace and safety in Parliament quite as much as in Ireland. 1887. No. XXXVIII. AN IMPOSSIBILITY. SOME things that appear impossible at first sight become possible when examined closely ; other things that appear possible at first sight become more impossible the more you ex- amine them. This is one of the latter. The more we examine it,. the more impossible it appears that Mr. Gladstone, or 500 Mr. Gladstones, can put oft" all useful legislation for England, Scotland, India, and the Colonies till the Irish question is settled. " My own years," says Mr. Gladstone, "make the settlement of the Irish Question a preliminary to all useful legislation." It may be very sad that Mr. Gladstone is nearly 80 years old ; but it is not our fault. Why are we to be punished for what we cannot help ? What has Mr. Gladstone's age got to do with the progress of useful legislation ? Indeed, I wish he was 40 instead of 80 ; we should not then see him the idol of anarchists and the champion of disorder ! Joshua commanded the sun to stand still that he might continue to slay his enemies. Jupiter put Phoebus to sleep for three days for a more agreeable purpose. More strange still, after the death of St. Patrick the sun continued to shine for 12 days ! And now Mr. Gladstone coolly proposes to stop the parliamentary sun sine die, because he is old ! How very comical ! " I am getting old," says Doctor Gladstone to Britannia ; " before I retire from practice I wish to cut your leg off." " Thank you so much," says Britannia ; " it's awfully nice of you to think of it, but I would rather not. I hope that under proper treatment it will get all right without an operation." " But it shan't get all right ; I will cut it off," screams the doctor ; " I will let you see if I am to be disappointed of an operation when I have set my heart upon it. We will soon see whose will is the strongest. You shall have nothing to eat or drink, no sleep, not a moment's rest, till you let me cut it off. I will make your life a burden to you ; I will raise every man's hand against his neighbour's; I will denounce law, judges, jury, the police ; I will put myself at the head of disorder, of anarchy, of revolution ; I will invoke the plagues of Egypt upon you ; I will hold you up to the obloquy of civilised mankind ; I will invoke the aid of your enemies all over the world ; there is nothing, absolutely nothing, I will not do sooner than be baulked of my whim." Now, this is no exaggeration not in the very slightest degree. Mr. Gladstone has already made good his words. He is at this moment at the head of anarchy and revolution. He has publicly denounced order and acclaimed disorder. " Remember Michelstown " has no other meaning than down with the police. The roughs in Trafalgar Square cheer his name before they proceed to sack the shops. He has held us up to the obloquy of civilised mankind ; he has invoked the aid of our enemies all over the world ; and at this very moment he is working night and day, unguibus et rostro, by coaxing some AN IMPOSSIBILITY. and kicking others, to make the Queen's Government impossible. And all because he is in a hurry and that nasty Parliament won't let him " see wheels go round." Let us count noses. " It is very vulgar, I am afraid," as the masher said when he eat mutton ; but it is occasionally very useful. The population of Great Britain and Ireland is about 34,000,00c. Of this 34,000,000 about 5,000,000 are Irish. Of this 5,000,000,. again, about 3,000,000 are Home Rulers ; that is to say, 3,000,000 out of 34,000,000 demand separation from England and Scotland ; and Mr. Gladstone stands forward and says, till these 3,000,000 have all they want to the very uttermost the 31,000,000 shall have nothing at all. This is rather a peculiar view to take of the situation certainly. It remains to be seen whether the 31,000,000 will see it in the same light. If Mr. Gladstone came into power to-morrow, with a majority of 100 in the House of Commons, he would in his first Session only touch the fringe of the Irish Question. Another appeal to the country would be required. The House of Lords would have to be abolished, the prerogative of the Crown to be curtailed, before the settlement of the Irish Question could even commence. How many sessions will that take ? If the 31,000,000 are to wait for all useful legislation till the Irish Question is settled, they will literally have to wait till the Greek Kalends, and this they are beginning to realise. But will 31,000,000 of people suffer them- selves to be fooled with such nonsense as this ? It may be right to let Ireland go ; but it cannot be right to do so because Mr. Gladstone is nearly 80 years old. When he urges his great age as a reason for at once allowing him to cut off a great limb from the Empire,. he is, in fact, urging the very strongest reason why he should not be allowed to do so. His memory and his judgment are terribly impaired by age and hard work, and he sees things in an exaggerated and false light that is quite astounding. The arguments and opinions of Mr. Gladstone at 80 are to the arguments and opinions of Mr. Gladstone at 40 exactly what Turner's pictures at 80 are to Turner's pictures at 40 wild, confused, unintelligible, pitiable. What sense is there in entrusting important work to a man who in the course of nature cannot see it completed, and whose judgment has gone astray ? Mr. Gladstone tells us plainly that he is in a hurry, but un- fortunately it is not he alone who is in a hurry. There are others who are in a hurry too a still greater hurry. He is afraid the Irish Question should slip through his fingers, and those who hang on to his political skirts are afraid that he should slip through their fingers. His is the name they conjure with, and they are in a hurry to utilise to the utmost the present hysterical emotion in his favour. It may not last. The tension is getting rather strained. He has gone too far. " Depasser le but c'est manquer la chose." There may be a reaction, and that would be awkward. The position is now supremely ridiculous 31,000,000 people in England and Scotland, 200,000,000 in India, and our Colonies are condemned to stew in their own juice because one man is 80 years old and must not be contradicted ! It is absurd. England and Scotland have far more need of useful legislation than Ireland a hundred times more* AN IMPOSSIBILITY. During the last few years Parliament has actually epuised itself in removing the material grievances of Ireland. There are none left at least nobody knows what they are. " It is our turn now," say the English and Scotch ; " you have removed the material grievances of the Irish, now remove ours." Oh, dear no, says Mr. Gladstone, your turn has not nearly come yet. It is true the Irish have no material grievances to complain of, but they still have their sentimental grievances. Until these are quite removed nothing can be done for you ; absolutely nothing. Sentiment before sense, my friends, or justice either. But the material interests of England and Scotland are very urgent, and cannot wait. Six millions of English and Scotch .agriculturists law-abiding citizens are on the verge of ruin ; the wolf is at the door. Drink is impoverishing the country and deteriorating the British breed. The frightful increase of drink amongst women almost excludes us from the pale of civilisation. Our fiscal absurdities are ruining our industries, and driving our workpeople abroad. These are some of our material interests ; are they to receive no attention till the sentimental interests of the Irish are satisfied ? Our boasted parliamentary system and our boasted Free Trade have both broken down, and yet we are to stand still till Mr. Gladstone gives us leave to move on ! Again, I say, it is absurd. And why, pray, should the sentimental interests of 3,000,000 in Ireland take precedence of the material interests of the rest of the Empire? Has Ireland any grievance against England ? Have her interests been neglected in favour of the interests of England and Scotland ? Hear what Mr. Gladstone said at Aberdeen in 1871 : " Ireland has no grievance against England. The English Parliament has not scrupled to do for Ireland what it has not ventured to do for England and Scotland." This was 16 years ago. Since then the Imperial Parliament has actually stultified itself in removing the material grievances of the Irish. In their interests political economy has been banished to Saturn, and the farmers have got such a hold on the land that they can actually sell their tenant-right for more than the fee simple ! Mr. Gladstone, failing in judgment and in his estimate of things, has taken it into his head that the sentimental interests of 3,000,000 of Irishmen, subsidised and directed by a foreign conspiracy, should take precedence of the material interests of 31,000,000 of English and Scotch law-abiding citizens. But he is wrong. English and Scotch farmers and labourers are beginning to see clearly that Irish farmers and labourers are in every respect better off than they are ; that whilst in Ireland they have got the three F's and three acres and a cow, in England and Scotland they have none of these things. "It is all very well to say stand on one side, and make way for Irish legislation," they will say, when they realise what fools they are being made of. " Be just before you are generous ; you have done much more for the Irish than you have for us. It is our turn now. Our case is far harder than theirs, and our needs more pressing, and we have a much stronger claim on the attention of Parliament. Put us at least in as good a position as you have put AN IMPOSSIBILITY. them before you call upon us to make more sacrifices in their favour." The urgent needs of 31,000,000 can no longer be put on one side in order to gratify the sentimental interests of 3,000,000, or even to accommodate Mr. Gladstone's advancing years. Legislation for the Empire must go on, and, for some time at any rate, legislation for England and Scotland must take precedence of legislation for Ireland. Let us take a common-sense view of the situation. When Parliament is sitting we have 5^- working days a week. Let us so divide them that each division of the Empire shall get its fair share of needful legislation. Let us allot one day to Ireland, one day to Scotland, two days to England and Wales, one day to India and the Colonies, and half a day to the foreign affairs of the country, limit all speeches to 10 minutes, and then a Parliament of Common-sense actually appears possible, and the Parliament of Gab will remain only as a horrible nightmare. 1888. No. XXXIX. THE "MARQUIS" BLUE-BOTTLE. I SEE one of the morning journals compares landowners to blue-bottle flies they are very large, very noisy, and very useless. I don't see the force of the comparison, but let that pass. Well, Mr. Morley is going to Ireland in a few days to assist the agitation against Blue-bottles in that country, and, like an experienced showman, he takes with him the most enormous specimen of the genus blue-bottle that the three kingdoms can produce. At Hampton Court is still found the largest of English spiders, called the " Cardinal ; " and at Studley Royal is found the " Marquis " Blue-bottle. Well, Mr. Morley has captured a " Marquis " and takes it with him to Ireland. The " Marquis " represents at least a dozen ordinary Blue-bottles rolled into one, and he can buzz oh, yes, he can buzz. I will back him to buzz against any Blue-bottle in the world. The " Marquis " that Mr. Morley will exhibit in Ireland is one of the largest landowners in the country. Three or four immense properties are centred in him. He presents to dozens of livings, he counts his tenants by scores, and therefore to see him leading an attack on landowners as a class, denouncing the payment of rent, advocating the Plan of Campaign, and advising the tenants to keep the land, takes the breath out of one. God only knows what madness has seized on our Blue-bottle that he is now seeking to devour his own species. " Say, sire of insects, mighty Sol, A fly upon the chariot-pole Cries out, 'What blue-bottle alive Did ever with such fury drive ? ' " There are only two explanations either he has buzzed himself silly, or what is equally probable, he is an arrant humbug. I have known many startling reformations in my life a distiller denouncing drink, but that was when he had retired from business ; the wife of Bath taking to tea and hassocks, but that was when she was old, &c. But to see a large landowner denouncing land-owning beats anything. I should as soon have expected to see the Pope denounce the cardinals. But, somehow, fouling one's own nest does not always answer; some people don't like it ; the deserter is always regarded with suspicion. When the record was left open for the public to inscribe their names, yes or no, to the question whether Louis XVI. should have his head cut off or not, a working man, seeing that Philippe Egalite, who had preceded him, had written, " Oui," immediately wrote " Non," saying, " Puisque Egalite dit oui; moi, je dis non." He, at any rate, did not think much of birds that fouled their own nests ; and it is quite possible that the sight of one of the largest landowners in the country THE "MARQUIS" BLUE-BOTTLE. denouncing land-owning may have a directly opposite effect to what is expected. It will show the utter unreality of the agitation. Egalite, no doubt, thought that by cutting off his cousin's head he would save his own ; but he did not. And probably our Blue-bottle thinks that by attacking bluebottledom in Ireland he may save it in England; but he won't. If he succeeds in pulling down landlordism in Ireland, he is quite certain to be buried under the ruins. I do not defend landowning ; it may be very wrong for all I know, and so some who don't own land think, apparently. Certainly it has its inconveniences. There are duties connected with the ownership of land, but none at all with the ownership of Consols. In the one case a man is obliged to do his duty coram populo ; in the other, he need do no duty at all unless he likes it. Land has its duties ; Consols have none. Consols have their sweets ; land, alas ! has none. If landowning is wrong, of course it is a noble act of self-sacrifice for a landowner to denounce it ; but, then, of course, he ought not to continue to hold it. Let a thief become a thief-catcher by all means, but in that case it is generally understood that he no longer picks pockets at least I imagine so. By all means let landowners denounce land-owning ; only it is absurd for them to continue to hold land. Mr. Morley will have an easy task of it. He is honest and consistent. He will say, " I represent the Revolution wherever it raises its head. I am against all landowners, whether in England, Scotland, or Ireland. ' The land for the people ; down with all Blue-bottles,' that is my cry, and that is why I have brought over this gigantic specimen, this " Marquis," to show you. Indeed, he is very interesting; he shows what training will do even for a Blue-bottle. He is a real monster ; he represents at least 20 of your Irish Blue-bottles, and oh, he can buzz. You will hear him soon. He has just been perverted from the heresy of landowning, and I have brought him over, regardless of expense, that you may hear him make his public profession of faith. A landowner himself, he advises you to pay no rent, and to keep the land, and directly he returns home he is going to put his professions into practice give up all rent, and hand his land over to his tenants. He, at any rate, is an honest man ; he would scorn to ask others to do what he would not care to do himself. Is he not a noble Blue-bottle ? Look at him again. Shake him by the hand. Hear him buzz, buzz, buzz-z-z ! Isn't he delightful," &c. I think Mr. Morley is quite justified in assuming that Lord Ripon is going to give up his land, otherwise he dare not surely venture to lead a crusade against other landowners. It would be too monstrous. But do let us ask Lord Ripon a few questions, He is a gigantic landowner in Yorkshire, where he collects rents and exercises the rights of property, and his neighbours Lord Fitzwilliam and the Duke of Devonshire are also large landowners in Yorkshire, where they also collect rents and exercise the rights of property. But they are also landed proprietors in Ireland, and Lord Ripon denounces them for collecting rents and exercising the rights of property in Ireland, but does not say a word against their collecting rents and exercising the rights of property in Yorkshire. Why is this ? Because if he denounces them for exercising the rights of property THE "MARQUIS" BLUE-BOTTLE. in Yorkshire, he would have to denounce himself, and that would he inconvenient. Vain man ! Can't he see that if it is disgraceful to exercise the rights of property in Ireland, it is equally disgraceful to exercise them in Yorkshire that a Blue-bottle is a Blue-bottle still whatever side of the Irish Channel he hails from ? He thinks it easy to denounce landowners in Ireland, where he has got no land, but finds it a serious thing to attack them in Yorkshire, where he has got so much. But if Lord Ripon cannot attack the Duke of Devonshire, or Lord Fitzwilliam, in Yorkshire, with what reason does he attack them in Ireland ? Does he mean to say they are worse landlords in Ireland than they are in Yorkshire ? For many years neither of them have drawn a shilling out of Ireland ; they have spent all they have received from their Irish estates on the estates themselves. Will Lord Ripon say that he has done more in Yorkshire ; and if he has not, how comes it that he is now throwing stones at those who have ? If it is wrong for the Duke of Devonshire and Lord Fitzwilliam to hold land in Ireland it is wrong for them to hold land in Yorkshire ; and if it is wrong for them to hold land in Yorkshire, it is wrong for his brother-in-law to hold land in Yorkshire, for any one, in fact, to hold land in Yorkshire. What nonsense. I never remember such a bungling act of folly. Why, it wouldn't impose on a suckling. Lord Ripon is going to Ireland to denounce Lord Fitzwilliam, the Duke of Devonshire, and other Irish landowners, and to exhort their tenants to pay them no rent, and to hold the land. But suppose an Irish landowner was to come over to Studley Royal and call Lord Ripon's tenants together and say : " Gentlemen, at great personal inconvenience to myself, but impelled by an overpowering sense of duty, I have come over to denounce yes, to denounce the conditions under which you hold land from Lord Ripon. Compared with the universal practice in Ireland, the conditions are so hard that I am satisfied that, when the public realise the difference, he will be compelled to treat you with more justice. Generosity, gentlemen, I do not ask from him but justice, simple justice. My advice to you is to demand from him exactly the same conditions that I and all other landowners- grant and, indeed, are compelled to grant to our tenants. If he denies you this justice, then I distinctly advise you to pay no rent; hold the land, and he will soon come to reason. That there may be no mistake, I will tell you what are the conditions on which I let my land, and you will see by comparison what sort of a landlord Lord Ripon is. All my tenants have the three F's Fair rent, fixed by the Government ; Fixity of tenure ; Free sale. My tenants can sell their lease to anyone they like ; often they sell it for more than the fee simple of the land. Now, have any of you these privileges ? Many of my tenants have paid no rent for three years. Is your landlord more considerate than I am ? My tenants can crop the land exactly as they like. Can you ? For 3s. a week I let a cottage and three acres of land, sometimes more. Does Lord Ripon do this ? I preserve no game, no foxes, employ no game- keepers. Poaching, therefore, that fills your gaols, is unknown on my estate. Finally, I present to no Church livings." Now, any Irish landowners who stated this to Lord Ripon's tenants would be THE "MARQUIS" BLUE-BOTTLE. telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and I think it would be rather awkward for Lord Ripon. " Now, elderly gentlemen, let me advise, If you're married and haven't got very good eyes, Don't go poking about after blue-bottle flies, Don't wear green specs with a tortoise-shell rim, And don't go near the river unless you can swim." Our elderly gentleman has gone poking about after blue-bottle flies, and he has tumbled into the river of Revolution. He can't swim Blue-bottles never can ; all he can do is to float with the stream till some lusty trout or dainty grayling, attracted by his struggles, sucks him under and makes a meal of him. He won't have to float far. No. XL. AFFAIRES DE FEMMES. WHEN we see a cock strutting about with his hens, we think, of course, he is leading the hens not a bit of it, the hens are leading him ; they wander where curiosity or pleasure attracts them, and he struts after them, and if he lags behind, a cackle and a flutter will immediately recall him to a sense of his duty. So it is all over the world, and so it ever has been since the days of Adam. Everywhere men fancy they lead the women, but everywhere women know they lead the men. " Women are fools," said Rous- seau ; " they have no wit, no genius, they don't even know how to describe love; I only know one exception." "Oh, but you do know one exception," replied a young lady with ready wit, " and if every man knows one exception, our total won't be so bad after all " and that is the whole Law and the Prophets. Women total up better than men ever so much better. Women lead men, because they are the cleverer animal infinitely more clever. Amongst a hundred men, we are told you will find two spirituel ; amongst a hundred women you will find one fool. In wit, in intel- ligence, in resource, in persistence, in patience, in endurance, in the highest kind of courage, women have the best of it. We do not believe that there is a single case of heroism, endurance, excel- lence, endowment in man that you cannot find its equal in woman. Men reason about the human heart, women simply read it. The former preach, the latter practice; and, of course, it is always ioo to i on the latter. All the reasoning of men will not stand a moment before the instinct of women. " If lions could paint," as the lion said in the fable, " you would see the lion killing the man instead of the man killing the lion." If women wrote history and painted men, perhaps we should see another illustration of the fable. Talk of the martyrdom of man ; the martyrdom of women may yet be written. Woman was bad from the beginning, say men; she caused the Fall " bon pour meisseurs les hommes " but the fact is that it was Adam who received the injunction about the apple, not Eve. " It was in Adam all sinned," not Eve. Which of them started the unfortunate idea we shall never know ; but Adam was a sneak to say it was Eve, and it is ridiculous to be angry with Eve for eating of the Tree of Life. What should we be now if she had never learnt the difference between good and evil ? Why, our Simian progenitors would have had the best of us. It is very amusing to speculate on a state of society in which for 40,000 years women had made all the laws for their own benefit. What would be the position of men then ? But, alas for theories, there is a " Royaume des Femmes " in our midst where for several years female influence has been paramount, and which we regret to say has become a public nuisance. The history of Bulgaria is not a long one, but, such as it is, it may be written in three words, AFFAIRES DE FEMMES. "Affaires de femmes." "Affaires de Femmes " suggested the election of the handsome Prince Alexander of Battenberg to the Throne of Bulgaria; "Affaires de Femmes" brought about the election of Prince Ferdinand of Coburg ; "Affaires de Femmes" inspired the forged Bulgarian despatches ; and now, worse than all, "Affaires de femmes" is responsible for this Battenberg marriage. Evidently the ladies have made an awful mess of Bulgarian affairs. It is very disappointing. This Battenberg marriage is absolutely and entirely an '' affaire de femmes." We don't suppose there are a dozen men from one end of Europe to the other who care a snap of their fingers about it. " It is a case of true love," we are told ; " and Prince Bismarck has set all the kind-hearted women in the world against him by opposing a love match." And so, I suppose, was the elopement of Paris and Helen a love match ; but all the same for 10 long years it kept the world in arms ; and as for " all the kind-hearted women in the world," we don't believe they are such fools as to wish to make one bride at the cost of making 10,000 widows. If lighting the torch of Hymen in this case in reality means lighting the torch of Mars, kind-hearted women would probably prefer having the operation postponed to a more convenient season. True love is apt to be unfortunate. There is nearly always a lion in the path. It is very sad to read of poor Pyramus and Thisbe under the mulberry tree ; but it is a fact that in this world there is a better chance for a mariage de convenance than for a mariage de cceur. In this particular case the lion haute politique stands in the path, and a very awkward customer he is, to say the least of it. " Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing." And so no doubt it is ; but there are exceptions, and this appears to be one of them. We don't believe history affords such another instance of the influence of the unforeseen on human affairs as the present crisis in Germany. The gates of Janus were opening wider every day ; every day the prospects of peace were getting brighter, when suddenly these ominous portals begin to close again, and every day the prospects of peace become less. And why? Because a cloud no bigger than a man's hand has suddenly developed into a blizzard. Only the other day, when the Emperor died, the univer- sal remark over the whole civilised world was, " What would happen to Germany if she lost Prince von Bismarck ? " Well, if what we read is true, she has lost Prince von Bismarck. He is not, it is true, dismissed ; but his power is broken, and his removal is now a matter of no importance. It is said that the reign of the great Chancellor, of the one man who can compel peace in Europe, is gone. That he has gone down, not on any great principle of national interest, but before a Court intrigue. Bismarck is weighed against Battenberg, and Bismarck strikes the beam. " Je jeu ma tete," said De Broglie when he played revolution. " Je jeu mon Battenberg," say the German Court party when they play a similar stake. It is absurd. " Woe to the vanquished," cried stern Brennus, as he cast his massive sword into the scale against AFFAIRES DE FEMMES. Rome's ransom. "Woe to the war-maker," are the words of Bis- marck as he casts his great name into the scale of peace. And will not Germany hear him ? Will not Europe hear him. We think they will. The great German Chancellor has a European value far beyond any value he may have as the Minister of Germany. He is at this present moment, and has been for 15 years, the Prince of Peace. His enemies hate him, of course, and of course his enemies are numerous at home and abroad ; but the most bitter of them allow in their hearts that for 15 years every act of his public service has been directed to the maintenance of peace. He, indeed, is the lion that has stood in the path of war. We do not think that any event in this century would cause such danger to Europe as the fall of Prince von Bismarck. Other events, of course, have caused war, but such a war as now threatens Europe has never before been suggested to civilised mankind. Germany, with two or three millions of armed men, stands face to face with France and Russia with four or five millions of armed men. At a word five or six millions of men are ready to fly at each other's throats. What keeps them back ? One thing only the unity of Germany. By immense efforts, by immense sacrifices, she has carried to its very utmost limits, the old principle, " Si vis pacem, para bellum." She is so thoroughly prepared for war that her enemies dare not break the peace. But it is not only military power that has given her the security of peace it is unity, unity of Government, unity of force, unity in military and foreign policy. It is unity alone one head, one heart, one hand that has given Germany 15 years' peace. Well, if that unity goes, what will happen ? The agitation amongst all classes in Germany is not surprising. For 15 years the policy of Germany has been as open as the day ; every child knows it as he does his alphabet. The people know that this policy has succeeded, that it has given Germany wealth and peace. The Emperor who for 28 years directed this policy has just died, almost with his last breath impressing its maintenance on his successor; but almost before he is cold in his grave " But two months dead nay, not so much " there is a talk of reversing his policy ; and dismissing the pilot with whom he had weathered so many storms. There are circum- stances about this reversal of the policy of the Great Emperor and the Great Chancellor that make it especially distasteful to the German people. Not only is the haste indecent, but the apparent subservience of national to family interests at such a critical moment is maddening. If family interests destroy the national policy, what is there to take its place ? All Germany knows that the noble Prince from whom they hoped so much is stricken by the hand of God. His reign is an interregnum ; and that an interregnum should be made the occasion of destroying the bulwark of German unity, and exposing her to the awful calamities of war with Russia and France, is too much. There can be no doubt of the result. Germany will not part with her great Minister till the clouds roll by. The more foreign intrigue assails him the more national feeling will rally round him. The last words of the old Emperor were "the dying hero's call " AFFAIRES DE FEMMES. for German unity ; and when the clouds gather round the Father- land, as they are gathering now, and the sounds of "Le Revanche" become ominously distinct, her sons will again stand in spirit by the simple camp bed, and again swear allegiance to the exhorta- tions of the honest old soldier again in spirit they will hear " The sound of that wild horn, On Pommeranian echoes borne, The dying hero's call." The idea is general throughout Europe that the intrigue against the German Chancellor is supported by England. It is most unfor- tunate. It is absurd ; but it does not gain less credence on that account. "The resignation of Prince Bismarck," says a Russian paper, "would signify the triumph of the English party at Berlin." "The English party at Berlin!" What does it mean? What English party is there at Berlin ? What German party is there in London ? Of course it has no meaning, and it is an insult to the English people to suggest that it is possible. The fall of the Great Chancellor means the triumph of the English party at Berlin. Ye gods ! It is, indeed, enough to make the old Emperor turn in his grave. What should we say if the fall of Lord Salisbury or Mr. Gladstone were proclaimed through Europe as the triumph of the German party in London ? The feeling of Germany is very strong on this subject the temper of the public almost dangerous. Already painful rumours are in the air ; demission is not the only .subject that is discussed. Before all things the German people desire peace ; their states- men tell them that in the present crisis of Europe the proposed marriage constitutes a danger to peace, and they are determined it shall not take place, and they fiercely resent as an impertinence, and as an unfriendly act any foreign interference with their national interests. " This is entirely a German question," say they ; "you foreigners have nothing to do with it. It is we who have to pay the piper, not you ; dance to any tune you like, but don't pre- sume to dictate to us what tune we are to dance to." "Courage! Messieurs et mesdames, prenez, demandez, n'ayez pas honte," said an indignant steward who saw that the guests were abusing his master's hospitality, " on voit bien que vous n'etes pas chez vous ; " and that is what Germany says to the impertinents who interfere in their affairs. You are abusing your -opportunity, " On voit bien que vous n'etes pas chez vous." 1888. No. XU. PANIC. ENGLAND, we are told, is in a panic ; in other words, England , is in a funk. Now, of course, it is not very dignified to be in a funk, but it is not an uncommon complaint ; nations suffer from it as well as individuals. It is an hysterical affection, but none the less distressing on that account. It is not at all necessary that danger should be real to cause a funk. A cloud passing over a hill side has been mistaken for an impi and caused men to run like hares. A man may fancy a mad dog is after him, and though it may turn out to be only a friendly cur, he may, nevertheless, have passed a very bad quarter of an hour whilst he supposed it was a mad dog. Of course, it is better never to be in a funk, but it is certainly better to run from a friendly cur than to remain and be bitten by a mad dog. During what is called the coal famine of 1871-2 there was never actually a scarcity of coal, but the mere apprehension of it was sufficient to send up the price of coal 300 and 400 per cent. ! If we were at war with France, or Russia, or America, it is not at all certain that we should be actually short of corn ; but it is quite certain the mere apprehension of being short of it would send up the price of corn 300 or 400 per cent. Panic is fear; but caution is not panic, it is often common sense ; shoring up your house when you see signs of the foundation giving way is not panic. Vaccinating your household when small-pox is prevalent is not panic. Increasing insurance to meet increased risks is not panic, it is common sense. Lord Salisbury falls foul of Lord Wolseley for having let the cat out of the bag. " It was a very mean trick of you," he says, "to bolt the cat at a City dinner ; you ought to have brought the bag here and bolted the cat on the floor of this House, and then we should have had rare sport." But, with all due deference to Lord Salisbury, he labours under a mistake. There was no cat in the bag at all ; it was bolted long ago ; and if Lord Wolseley had brought the bag to the House of Lords, it would have proved as empty as some of their Lordships' heads ! What is the use of pretending the cat is still in the bag, when everyone knows it is all over the place ? Does anyone in his senses doubt that the naval and military attaches of France, Germany, and Russia know as much, or a great deal more, about our ships, our guns, our soldiers, our coaling stations, our grain ships, than we do ourselves ? What nonsense ! Why, a hundred newspapers tell the world the whole story every day in the week. Only the other night the First Lord of the Trea- sury said that he hoped in three years, by God's mercy, Gibraltar would have guns. Is it possible to let a bigger cat out of the bag than that ? Of course the man who encourages unfounded panic should be hanged as high as Haman ; but certainly the man who encourages unfounded confidence should be elevated alongside him. PANIC. If instead of lecturing Lord Wolseley for letting the cat out at a City dinner, Lord Salisbury had lectured him for going to the dinner at all, there would have been a great deal of reason in it. All nations have objectionable " customs," civilised as well as barbarian. The " customs " of Dahomey and Ashantee are not particularly attractive, but I swear I think they are as pleasant as those of " Venter Deus," the " Great Belly God " of the City ! The high priests of "Ja-Ja," or "Jam-Jam," or whatever the monster's name is, disembowel their victims, and cut off their heads. The high priests of "Venter Deus" gorge their victims, and give them two heads. At least, that is not unfrequently the poor wretch's sensa- tion on awakening the morning following the City "custom." How any man who can afford a chop and a pint of Pilsener beer at home, or at his club, ever finds himself at a public dinner I can never under- stand. I can quite understand that if a man, who rather fancies himself, thinks that he has anything that is new (it must'nt be true it appears, that is letting the cat out of the bag), or important, or amusing, to communicate to the public that he should seize any opportunity of saying it; but when he has nothing to say, absolutely nothing, either important, or amusing, or novel, I cannot understand his subjecting his vile body to a surfeit of turtle, venison, and the " Boy," in order to say it. I declare I do not believe that at Daho- mey's worst " customs " you could see more complete misery stamped on the faces of those awaiting execution, or more hopeless depression on the faces of those looking on, than you do on the faces of the speakers and listeners at the " customs " of the " Great Belly God." Most of us, we know, are extremists on some question or another ; and those very superior persons who tell us they can always keep mid-channel between the Scylla of optimism and the Charybdis of pessimism are almost always humbugs. Test them on matters that concern their own immediate interests, and it is a hundred to one extreme opinions will crop out. " Which do you prefer, O camel," asked Mahommed, "going up hill or down hill?" " May the devil fly away with both," was the reply. And so it is with us. We are all of us either going up hill or down hill. The camel that never goes off the flat is indeed a very fortunate camel. At the commencement of the Franco-German war French optimists had it all their own way. " A- Berlin ! A Berlin!" they shouted. The Rhine was already a French river ; the personnel of their army was perfection ; the equipment was complete to the last button, &c. Before the great collapse those who warned them of danger were ridiculed as fools ; after the disaster those who had assured them of victory were execrated as traitors. It is always so ; let us take warning ; we are now much in the same position ; there are opti- mists who tell us exactly the same story about our army and navy, even to the proverbial button ; and there are pessimists who tell us the exactly contrary story. The serious matter in our case is that the optimists represent the opinion of those who know nothing, absolutely nothing, whatever on the subject ; whilst the pessimists represent all the scientific and professional experience of the country. The cause of our uneasiness can be easily explained ; it is a very PANIC. simple sum. We have a capital of 30,000,000,000 that is to say, the national income is generally estimated at 1,200,000,000, which, capitalised at 4 per cent., means, of course, 30,000,000,000. Now, 30,000,000,000 is a pretty tall sum, quite worth keeping, and quite worth seizing, and, besides this capital, there are such trifles as "the flag," the "pride of race," an Empire on which the sun never sets (though, indeed, envious foreigners are unkind enough as to say, that on one important portion of it the sun never rises). Now, the national insurance on all this wealth is our army, and navy, and the reserve forces, and it costs us about 30,000,000. This seems a very high premium to pay, and so it is ; but it is not extravagant on the amount insured, it is exactly 1 per 1,000 or 2s. per cent. Now 2s. per cent, is the exact rate most of us pay for insurance against fire, and it does not appear very unreasonable that the nation should pay the same rate as the individual. Owing to circumstances over which we have no control, we find that, for the moment, our risks are very much increased ; and, therefore, we are asked to pay an increased premium. I believe that at this moment, there is no doubt whatever that the country is insufficiently insured; but whether the premium is too small, or whether the amounts are improperly distributed, I cannot say. I am inclined to believe there is a great deal of both. I believe that, for the moment, we should insure for a larger amount ; but I also believe that the premium we have been paying has been most stupidly and most disgracefully wasted. We have covered by insurance four or five times over, things that are not worth insuring at all ; and we have left quite uninsured things on which our very existence depends. There are now three courses open to us to remain as we are, to increase our premium, to readjust our present insurance. Of course, if we are in danger, we must try and get out of it ; to remain in danger is an act of madness. If an army and navy are necessary to our safety, we must have them of sufficient power to protect us beyond the possibility of doubt. It is childish to say we won't spend more money because we have not got full value for the money we have already spent. It is not what we ought to have that concerns us at this moment, it is what we actually have got. No doubt our money has been wasted, shamefully, incredibly, with a stupidity without example ; but because we have lost a score or two of millions, are we there- fore, in a fit of the sulks, to decline to secure the thousands of millions that remain to us ? It is childish. We must have what we want now, but we must take steps at once to make the control of our spending departments more effective and more reasonable for the future. England risks more by war than any other nation in the world. It is therefore of more importance to her to preserve peace than to any other nation in the world. Well, her chances of preserving peace rise and fall exactly in proportion as her ability to defend herself rises and falls. So long as it is believed that she can easily beat off all attacks and turn the tables on her assailants, she is perfectly safe from attack ; but if it is seen that she lives in a fool's paradise, and has neglected to keep her arms bright, and cannot defend herself, then sooner or later she is certain to be PANIC. dragged into war. Nobody knows, not even Prince Bismarck him- self, whether the clouds that now threaten European peace will roll by. Nobody knows whether in case of a European war England will be allowed to remain out of it. Nobody knows ; nobody, actually nobody. There are lots of very wise men who will tell you they do know, but they don't, no more than the child unborn. Nothing points the moral of Lord Wolseley's strictures on party government so much as the fact that in this country the nationaL defence can be made a party question. In no other country in the world is this possible. Those who presume to put the interests of party before the interests of the nation are very short-sighted, and very disloyal. It must be so. If our grain ships are driven from the seas, and the price of wheat goes up to 300s. a quarter ; if our colonies are conquered, our Empire broken up, our shores invaded, our capital threatened, a fine of 1, 000, 000, 000 imposed upon us,. do they suppose they will not suffer with the rest ? Will it be a party question then ? If it is, it will be a very awkward question for the party who prevented the county placing itself in a position of security. Optimists do not deny our inefficiency ; they do not say we are prepared to defend ourselves if attacked. They traverse the whole question by saying it is impossible that we shall ever be attacked ; but this is absolutely untrue. There is only one reason why we should not be attacked, and that is our evident power to- defend ourselves ; but there are fifty reasons why we should be attacked, if it is seen we are not in a position to defend ourselves. " The French have loved us like brothers for sixty years," says Mr. Gladstone, ever since Waterloo, in fact ; and we have loved them with equal devotion, of course, during that long period. What nonsense ! Nations that are opposed to each other do not love each other any more than individuals who are opposed to each other. It is not human nature. Did Mr. Gladstone love Lord Beaconsfield ? Does he love Lord Salisbury ? No, of course he doesn't. Why should he ? Then why should the French love us, or we love the French ? The French will never love us, but they will respect us if they know we are strong enough to defend our- selves not an hour longer. But this position is untenable ; those who advance it are on the horns of a dilemma. Our army and navy are either for use or for show. If for use, they are manifestly too weak ; if for show, they are evidently too expensive. If it is impossible that we shall be attacked, we don't want an army and navy to defend us ; if it is possible we shall be attacked, we want an army and navy that can defend us beyond the possibility of doubt. If our army and navy are for show, we ought not to spend 30,000,000 a year on them ; if they are for use, we ought to spend on them as much as will make them effective for the purposes for which we want them. There is panic in the air there is no doubt of it and the only way of meeting it is to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It is the only way of avoiding exaggeration on both sides. Anything like concealment, anything that resembles that popular little game of the pea and the three thimbles, will certainly make panic more intense. Now, what the Government, any Government that does its duty PANIC. to the country, should say is this " War is possible. In case of war your army and navy will have to guard your coasts, your harbours, your colonies, your Empire, your grain ships, your coal- ing stations, perhaps even your capital, and this is its present efficiency. Are you satisfied? Is it sufficient?" If the country says Yes, the responsibility no longer rests with the Government. At present it does. It is of no use trying to swop horses whilst we are crossing the stream ; no use changing our system when the danger is upon us ; it is no use arguing now that for the money we have spent we ought to have more guns, and ships, and men. If we have not got them, somebody is to blame, no doubt somebody ought to be hanged, perhaps but it is cutting off our nose to spite our face to expose the country to the risk of disaster because some individuals have neglected their duty. There is another point that seems to be over-looked, but which, to my mind, is very important indeed, and that is the obligation of the nation to its soldiers and sailors. We keep a certain number of thousands of men to defend us, and fight our battles in case we are attacked. The moment the blast of war sounds in our ears we say, " Now, my brave boys, now'syour time ; show us the metal of your pastures," &c. This is all very well, but it is of much more impor- tance that our soldiers and sailors should be able to show the enemy the metal of their guns. If we ^ive them no guns, or only inferior ones ; if we arm them with rifles that jam, bayonets that bend, swords that break, we are sending them to certain defeat and death. We have no right to do this. It is a breach of faith, a breach of honour, a breach of humanity. We are traitors to our soldiers and sailors, we are betraying them into the hands of the enemy. It is a shame. It is true we do not engage to arm them as well as those they will have to fight, but it is understood that we shall do so ; to send infantry into the field with only half its complement of guns, cavalry with only half its complement of horses, to put our sailors in great iron coffins, without proper guns and means of coaling, is wilfully sacrificing their lives, and is a disgraceful breach of faith. Of course, a nation must defend itself with any arms it can get, but England ought to have as good arms as its neighbours, or better. There is no doubt of it, we can have them if we take the proper means to get them. To neglect to do so is not only incredibly stupid, but it is dishonourable and disgraceful. 1888. No. XLII. PARTY GOVERNMENT. FOR thirteen consecutive winters an acquaintance of mine went to Egypt for his health, and every spring wrote to his sisters in England, saying that the east wind was worse than it had ever been known before. Certainly, if I were writing to a friend abroad to-day I should tell the same story about Party Government. I should say Party Government had been getting worse and worse every year, till now it was actually quite " beyond." Of course, I know that grumbling will no more get rid of Party Government than it will of the east wind ; but still, grumbling enables one to bear many ills that without it would be intolerable Party Govern- ment amongst them. Lord Salisbury scolds Lord Wolseley for saying that Party Government is responsible for the miserable con- dition of our national defects, and is quite shocked that any one should suppose that Party Government stands in the way of useful legislation. But isn't this indignation absurd ? You have only to listen to the charges and counter-charges party men bring against each other to feel that in such hands useful legislation must be a very improbable event. What is Party Government ? A hundred men out of a population of 34,000,000 that is, one in every 340,000 become politicians, God only knows why, as others become soldiers, sailors, tinkers, or tailors. " Nascitur, non fit, say these modest mortals; "we were born so ; we require no preparation. We are the superior human article. We are the leaven that leaveneth the whole mass." Fifty range themselves on one side and fifty on the other, and then the game begins. It consists in abusing, misrepresenting, discrediting, and finally replacing their opponents. They call this the game of " Haute Politique ; " but the vulgar herd merely call it the game of " Dishing." " We will govern the country," says one fift" ; " you are more or less a set of vicious incapables. The loaves and fishes shall be ours." " We'll be hanged if you shall," say the other fifty, " if we can help it ; your principles are atrocious ; the loaves and fishes shall be ours ; we will fight you for them." And, by Jove, they do fight, tooth and nail un^uibus et rostro. Talk of the Rugby rules, the Queensberry rules, Heenan and Tom Sayers, Smith and the Elastic Pot-boy, why, these are gentlemanly con- tests compared to the wordy battles that are fought between party athletes. At football and in the prize ring there are rules, and those who break them lose the game ; and the spectators insist on a certain amount of fair play ; but in party fights there are apparently no rules, and no fair play. The combatants hit below the belt, stab in the back, exchange accusations and insinuations that are shameful, and that they know are false, and the spectators encourage them by word and action, and howl at the referee if he tries to R PARTY GOVERNMENT. enforce the most ordinary rules of fair play. Of course, men of the same profession must know each other pretty well better than the outside world can know them and therefore they ought to be a little more careful of what they say of each other, lest the public should take them at their own valuation, and that would be very awkward. It is certain that if they are one-hundredth part as bad as they represent each other to be, they are more fit for a reformatory than for a Legislative Assembly. The Radical members of the House of Commons are very fond of throwing dirt at the members of the House of Lords. " You are a spendthrift," they say, " a gambler, a loafer, and altogether a ' mean cuss.' Make way for honest, enlightened citizens like us." This is all very well. When they denounce the House of Lords they make them out to be a very poor set ; but when they denounce each other they make themselves out to be very much worse ! " You are a cheat," they say ; " a liar, you suborn justice, put pressure on judges, pack juries, condone murder, encourage revolution, perjure yourselves," &c. Really, when one recalls the charges the Irish members brought against Sir William Harcourt, Sir George Trevelyan, Lord Spencer, and Mr. Gladstone, and those more recently brought by Mr. Gladstone, Sir William Harcourt, and Sir George Trevelyan against Lord Salisbury and Mr. Balfour, it becomes evident that reform should begin at home and the real Augean stables is in the House of Commons and not in the House of Lords. The House of Commons is an epitome of the nation. It is composed of a majority more or less with common sense, and a minority more or less without it. If Party Government meant tbat the men with more or less sense competed with each other to give the country reasonably good government, all right ; the system would be an excellent one. But when the men of sense fight amongst each other and bribe the men of no sense, by reckless promises of support, to come and help them, the country is no longer governed by the men of some sense, but by men without any sense, and in the present exaggerated condition of party con- tests this is what actually occurs. If the majority with common sense said to the champions of contagion and drink and total abstinence, the sour Sabbatarians, the cheap and nasty humani- tarians, the faddists, the fanatics, the impossible persons of all kinds, " Cart away your pernicious nonsense, and let common sense govern the country." we should get on ; but, unfortunately, the necessities of this cursed party system compel them to say exactly the reverse. " Dear faddists," they say, " dear worshippers of contagion and drink, of cold water, and sour hypocrisy, we know that you are fools and humbugs, and that all that you advocate is pernicious and absurd, and injurious to the country, but only give us your votes and we will support all your fads, and a great deal more ; " and they do. In this way the interests of the country are put up to a Dutch auction. Party Government becomes a com- petition for the support of the nonsense men ; folly reigns supreme, and common sense is flurg to the Devil. Now, when I see population rapidly increasing ; cultivation rapidly diminishing ; land relapsing from tillage to grazing ; from PARTY GOVERNMENT. grazing to prairie value; agricultural wages declining to gs. and 8s. a week ; farmers and country tradesmen ruined; landowners every- where becoming absentees ; ships alongside each other embarking our best operatives, and disembarking the very articles those opera- tives manufacture ; capital everywhere withdrawn from British agriculture and British industries in order to be invested in foreign agriculture and foreign industries ; the able-bodied, the intelligent, the manhood, the bone and sinew and brains of the country emi- grating, and leaving the old, the infirm, the women and children, the paupers, the loafers, the lunatics, and criminals at home ; capital passing from the hands of those who employ labour into the hands of those who employ no labour ; every year the interests of capital and labour becoming more distinctly separated ; the distribution of wealth diminishing, and the accumulation of wealth increasing ; the interests of labour everywhere subservient to the interests of capital ; the awful abyss that separates rich and poor ; inconceivable squalor and fabulous wealth ; ruinous railway monopolies ; the closing of canals ; judges, doctors, ministers, police, poor-law guardians, telling us that go per cent, of our crime, insanity, pauperism, vice, sickness, results from drink, and Govern- ment afraid to touch it ; more female drunkenness than in the whole world together ; the abject nonsense of the discussions about the social evil, and the deceased wife's sister; the employer of false weights and measures, the seller of adulterated drink or food, fined ios., the starving beggar who steals a loaf imprisoned for five years ; the cure of human souls bought and sold in the open market to the highest bidders ; all places of amusement and in- struction closed to the public on the Seventh Day, and only the public houses left open ; the Government saying to the public on the Sabbath Day, "This is the day sacred to the great god Bacchus ; on this day you shall neither sing, nor dance, nor hear music, nor study paintings, or sculpture, or natural history ; you shall only drink;*' hundreds of thousands of men employed by the railway companies, the omnibus companies, the publicans on Sunday, without complaint, and the employment of 50 men in museums and galleries denounced as desecration of the Sabbath ; pauper children set to the impossible task of learning lessons on empty stomachs ; the absence of technical and useful education ; volun- tary military service, the duty every man, yeoman or noble, duke or dustman, owes his country, denounced as compulsory service ; an expenditure of 30,000,000 giving us only ships without guns, soldiers without muscle, cavalry without horses, rifles that jam, bayonets that bend, swords that break ; our absolute dependence on foreign nations for food, and in the event of war our absolute inability to protect our grain ships ; enormous life pensions given to men who have done the country less service than a crossing sweeper; men made hereditary peers for giving money to 'the party ; " for resigning a safe seat ; because they are old ; because they are foolish ; men in opposition denouncing as the tyranny of the majority what in office they declared was the protec- tion of the minority; boycotting, the "plan of campaign," com- plicity with murder excused and condoned ; the ordinary party PARTY GOVERNMENT "disher" laying claim to Divine inspiration; the name of the Almighty invoked in miserable party contests ; a whole party turning slap round on the arguments and professions of their lives, in order to gain votes ; the man who tells the truth denounced as Ananias ; the man who stands by his faith denounced as Judas ; Politicians throwing double somersaults and swearing they have not moved ; whirling round like dervishes and declaring it is their opponents who have gyrated ; cynical repudiation of pledges and principles ; Jesuistical explanations and hair-splitting definitions ; the want of backbone and moral courage ; everywhere the interests of party preferred to the interests of the country ; the leader of a party calling on the enemies of his country, men who blow up our ships, our buildings, threaten our lives, to come over and help him to coerce his own countrymen ; the disgrace of Majuba Hill ; the desertion of Gordon ; the slaughter of Arabs and Egyptians'till the very land smelt of blood ; the Budget of "100,000.000 ; cant paying better than truth, hypocrisy than honesty, profession than practice, verbosity than sense when I see all these things, and lemember that we owe the extraordinary profusion of this rank growth to Party Government, I cannot avoid the conclusion that, according to the standard of common sense, England is the worst governed country in the world, that Party Government has utterly colbipsed and the governing classes failed in their self-appointed mission. 1888. 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