To provide for the safety of industry is not Jingoism. Richard Cobden was not under a Jingo influence when he said that he would willingly vote £100,000,000 for the Navy rather than see it unable to fulfil its task of giving security to British commerce. His was rather the expression of strong English common sense, which faces facts and the actual conditions of life. Lord Rosebery is not a Jingo when he suggests that British people can best secure peace by 'preponderance.' The strength of a United Empire would be no more than equal to the increasing tasks which are laid upon it. The fear that Federation with the strength which it gave would make British people the bullies of the world appears absurd. If we have powerful athletic sons we do not cut their muscles or reduce their physique lest they should use their splendid strength to injury of their neighbours; rather do we train them to use it in noble ways—to be foremost in toil, to help the oppressed, to defend the defenceless, to be the strong arbiter between contentious disputants. So with the nation. Doubtless vast {46} strength, without an adequate controlling moral force, has in it a temptation and a danger. But surely the remedy lies in deepening the moral sense, not in limiting or diminishing the material strength of the nation.
To the Christian, the moralist, the philanthropist, no inspiration could be greater than that which might well spring from observing the growing strength of the Empire, and from reflection that this immense energy might be turned in directions which would make for the world's good. And strength beyond all other nations British people must have if they are to face in its fulness the work they have to do. As the outcome of that intense life which has specially characterized the last two hundred years they find themselves front to front with the whole world on every great sphere of action or field of responsibility. They have to face and boldly play their part in the large and complex problems of European politics, when the might of enormous armies stands ready to enforce the decisions of an alliance or the will of a despot. Commerce, extending to the remotest islands or penetrating to the heart of uncivilized continents, makes almost co-extensive with the globe those ordinary interests of British people which require protection. Three hundred millions of mankind, who do not share British blood, of various races and in various climes, acknowledge British sway, and look to it for guidance and protection; their hopes of civilization and social elevation depending {47} upon the justice with which it is exercised, while anarchy awaits them should that rule be removed. Through commerce and widespread territories the nation is brought into constant intercourse and often into the most delicate relations with almost every savage race on the globe, thus standing almost alone of European nations on that border-land where civilization confronts barbarism, of all positions in which a nation can be placed perhaps the one most weighted with responsibilities and most pregnant with possibilities of good and evil. To this position the world's history offers no parallel; beside it Rome's range of influence sinks into comparative insignificance.
But to understand all that it means we must remember that along with this mighty growth of power there has been a steady growth of a public conscience, which holds itself responsible not only for national acts, but for national influence; which refuses to shut its eyes to abuse of power, but rather looks upon power as a sacred trust, to be used for worthy ends. Therein lies the justification of our national greatness, and of the wish that it should be maintained.
'We sailed wherever ship can sail,
We founded many a noble state;—
Pray God our greatness may not fail
Through craven fear of being great.'
This is the poet's thought and prayer. May it not rightly be the thought and prayer of every British citizen? We have assumed vast responsibilities in the {48} government of weak and alien races, responsibilities which cannot now be thrown off without a loss of national honour, and without infinite harm to those under our rule. A nation which has leaning upon it an Indian population of nearly 300,000,000 over and above the native races of Australasia, South Africa, and many minor regions, must require, if stability and equilibrium are to be maintained, an immense weight of that trained, intelligent, and conscientious citizenship which is the backbone of national strength. It needs to concentrate its moral as well as its political strength for the work it has to do.
If we really have faith in our own social and Christian progress as a nation; if we believe that our race, on the whole, and in spite of many failures, can be trusted better than others, to use power with moderation, self-restraint, and a deep sense of moral responsibility; if we believe that the wide area of our possessions may be made a solid factor in the world's politics, which will always throw the weight of its influence on the side of a righteous peace, then it cannot be inconsistent with devotion to all the highest interests of humanity to wish and strive for a consolidation of British power. It is because I believe that in all the noblest and truest among British people there is this strong faith in our national integrity, and in the greatness of the moral work our race has yet to do, that I anticipate that the whole weight of Christian and philanthropic sentiment will ultimately be thrown on the side of national unity, as opening {49} up the widest possible career of usefulness for us in the future; inasmuch as it will give us the security which is necessary for working out our great national purposes.
The praises of the Federal system of the United States are much dwelt upon now that it has been justified by triumphing over the difficulties and dangers of a century. It seems the natural and easy outgrowth of the circumstances in which the original colonies found themselves at the close of the Revolution. The conditions under which it was created and exists are pointed out as ideally favourable for national unity on a federal basis—contiguity, common interest, sentiment based on a common history, and other facts and considerations of a parallel kind.
Far different from this did the task of framing the Federal Constitution seem to those who had it in hand. It has been described by Mr. Bryce as 'a work which seemed repeatedly on the point of breaking down, so great were the difficulties encountered from the divergent sentiments and interests of the different parts of the country, as well as of the larger and smaller states.' The same writer adds: 'The Convention had not only to create de novo, on the most slender basis of pre-existing institutions, a national government for a widely scattered people, but they had in doing so to respect the fears and jealousies and apparently irreconcileable interests of thirteen separate commonwealths, to all of whose governments it was necessary to leave a sphere of {50} action wide enough to satisfy a deep-rooted sentiment, yet not so wide as to imperil national unity.'
Yet once more we read of difficulties curiously like those which are urged as making British unity impossible now. 'Their geographical position made communication very difficult. The sea was stormy in winter, the roads were bad, it took as long to travel by land from Charleston to Boston as to cross the ocean to Europe, nor was the journey less dangerous. The wealth of some states consisted in slaves; of others in shipping; while in others there was a population of small farmers, characteristically attached to old habits. Manufactures had hardly begun to exist. The sentiment of local independence showed itself in intense suspicion of any external authority; and most parts of the country were so thinly peopled that the inhabitants had lived practically without any government, and thought that in creating one they would be forging fetters for themselves.'
Difficulties, then, are no new thing in national organization. They may be, as they have been, but the spur to the determined will of nation or individual. They are to be measured by the resources at our disposal with which to confront them.
Admitting the difficulties involved in framing a Federal system we must at the same time remember the long and peculiar training which our race has had in dealing with them. Acute minds have been turned upon the problem, systems have been framed and adopted by vast populations, and time has tested {51} the results. The experience of the United States extends over more than a century of strenuous national life and wonderful growth. In the light of that experience, and to meet her own necessities, Canada faced the question a quarter of a century ago, and framed a system which works well and gives assurance of permanence. Encouraged by these examples, Australia is taking steps to frame a similar union. Thus three great English-speaking communities have had their thoughts fixed with anxious attention upon Federal problems. In forming or in carrying on these three great English-speaking federations, fundamental principles have been so exhaustively studied and so thoroughly tested that the conditions that must control Federal organization may now be stated with a very considerable degree of accuracy. Germany, Switzerland, and Austro-Hungary all furnish data which assist in making conclusions definite. An adoption of Federalism is therefore no longer a leap in the dark. The losses and gains which it involves can be weighed and measured.
With such a range of history and experience to fall back upon it ought to be possible for a practical self-governing people to distinguish between the relations they wish to control through the smaller machinery of local government, and those they are content to submit to the larger machinery of a central government: to draw, in short, a true line of division between those interests which are peculiar to each {52} member of the Federation and those which are common to all.
In this connection Professor Ransome has stated what seems to me a striking and most suggestive view. He points out that the geographical relations of the great divisions of the Empire lend themselves naturally to Federal organization on a large scale. A primary difficulty in all federations, as I have said, is to draw a sufficiently defined line between those local questions in the settlement of which communities, and most of all Anglo-Saxon communities, will brook no interference from outsiders, and those other questions in which all have a common interest, and are content to have only a proportionate voice. Great Britain, Canada, Australia, South Africa, have each internal problems of their own to wrestle with, which each can solve only for itself, and about which it would resist dictation or resent even advice from all or any of the others. Such are the relations of French and English in Canada; of white and coloured labour in Australia; of Boer and Englishman in South Africa; of Irish Home Rulers and Unionists in the United Kingdom. But the fact that Great Britain, Canada, Australia, and South Africa lie in different quarters of the globe at once distinguishes broadly all questions of this kind, and diminishes the probability of conflict. On the other hand the very distance of separation makes it impossible, except by united action, to deal adequately with the vast interests common to all. To draw the line of {53} distinction between things purely local and such as are general in status thus widely separated would be much easier than to do the same for the contiguous sovereign states of the American Republic, or the contiguous provinces of Canada or Australia. The very diversity and peculiarity of local interest simplify the task.
It is to be noted, also, that in forming a British Federal system we should be relieved from what was the most difficult problem which presented itself to the framers of the American constitution. It was necessary to create a head for the state, and a method was devised with elaborate caution for doing this in freedom from the storms of party passion. In actual working that system has broken away from the original intention of its authors, and more than once the quadrennial selection of a party head to the American Republic has put a heavy strain upon the machinery of national government.
The British nation, on the other hand, has a head which commands reasoned and personal allegiance in all parts of the Empire. Under it the popular will reaches its end with less friction than under any other method yet devised. The system has been proved capable of easy and satisfactory application to the wants of the colonies, even under a federal organization such as that of Canada. The possession of such a starting-point will prove of enormous practical advantage in facing the problems of national organization.
{54}
The fact that the constituent elements of the proposed federation are not at the same stage of political development naturally occurs as a difficulty. Canada, in having a fully matured internal system, is riper for federation than Australia, Australia than South Africa, South Africa than the West Indies.
The circumstance is often urged as a conclusive argument for delay: it is sometimes represented as an insuperable obstacle to any present progress towards closer unity. The condition is no new one to existing federal systems, nor has it proved an obstacle of importance to the framing of an adequate constitution. Both the United States and Canada have a carefully arranged system by which their younger communities are admitted by successive stages into fuller privileges of citizenship, each as it reaches a fixed period of maturity becoming entitled to the full franchise of state or province. As well argue that a man must not admit his eldest son into partnership until the youngest has come of age, as claim that Canada, with its constitution already consolidated by a quarter of a century's history, must still wait another quarter or half century for its rightful position in the nation to which it belongs because the West Indies and South Africa have not been able to work their way through certain stages of political evolution. Strange, indeed, would have been the political position of the United States had they waited to frame their federal system till Colorado was on a level with Massachusetts. For a nation {55} like ours, constantly expanding, and with possibilities for further extension even greater than the United States, common sense would seem to indicate the maturity of the first great colonies, the period when they might fairly be expected to desire some final decision about their national destiny, as the time when the basis of a Federal system, applicable on a fixed principle to all, should be determined. They are then free, as each advances to maturity, to choose between independence and entrance into the national system.
The concession of Responsible Government to the colonies was an important, but by no means a final step in political development. From some points of view the change seemed to superficial observers very closely akin to the concession of independence. It gave the absolute control of local affairs, the power of levying taxes, and of applying the proceeds; but the higher functions of government, it must be remembered, still remained with the central power. Not only was this so, but the responsibilities of independence were clearly not imposed in the same proportion that its privileges were granted.
In the minds of some colonists and more Englishmen I have found a belief, or rather a suspicion, that any closer union than at present exists could only be effected by taking away from the colonies some of the self-governing powers which they now possess. That this is necessary is clearly a mistake, and one which probably arises from the erroneous impression about {56} the degree of self-government which a colony enjoys. Not the resignation of old powers, but the assumption of new ones, must be the result of Federal union. A colony has now no power of making peace or war; no voice, save by the courtesy of the mother-country, in making treaties; no direct influence on the exercise of national diplomacy. Admitted to an organic union, its voice would be heard and its influence felt in the decision of these questions. To the Imperial Parliament, that is, as things now stand, to the Parliament of the United Kingdom, is reserved the right to override the legislation of a colony, just as, for example, the Parliament of the Dominion has the right to override the legislation of a Canadian Province. But as the Canadian feels in this no sense of injustice or tyranny, since he is represented in the superior as well as in the inferior Legislature, so the colonist would feel no loss of political dignity if he had his true place in the higher as well as in the lower representative body. With enlarged powers, it is true, the colony would have to accept enlarged responsibilities. In human affairs the two invariably and rightly go together[3]. If, instead {57} of federation, a colony chose independence, it would evidently be compelled at once to assume the control of all questions now reserved for Imperial treatment, and the corresponding burdens now provided for at Imperial expense. In a closer union the larger control and the larger responsibility would be assumed in partnership rather than individually. Surely this is not subtracting anything from the power of self-government. It is the means of making it complete.
Shall it, then, be separation or closer union? Shall we face the dangers which few can deny will be incident to the disintegration even by Act of Parliament and mutual consent of the greatest nation of the world; or shall we choose, as a wiser alternative, to confront, as in the past, the difficulties of such political reconstruction or adaptation as is required to meet new national needs? This is the question which not merely may arise, but certainly must arise within a very measurable time to be settled by British people in all parts of the world.
It has been said that all great movements which affect the condition of peoples are originated and carried forward by the combination of two forces: the force of conviction, which comes from reason, and the force of enthusiasm, which is born of sentiment. It is generally supposed that Anglo-Saxon people are most strongly influenced by reason, by arguments directed to their intelligence. Yet it may be doubted if in any race, sentiment plays a more decisive part in {58} moulding public action. It lives in the pages of Milton, Shakespeare, Scott, Burns, Tennyson, and in distant lands loses none of its power to stir men's hearts. It has profoundly influenced Canadian history for more than a hundred years. It flames up in every colony when a crisis arises when British honour is at stake.
Millions of people in distant parts of the world glory in the right to speak of England, Scotland, or Ireland under the tender name of home. A sentiment indeed, but a mighty power. It is true that the term 'loyalty,' as it has usually been applied to British colonies and colonists in their relations to the United Kingdom, is in some ways becoming an obsolete and unmeaning term. A larger loyalty which has in it no suspicion of dependence is taking its place. It is one which implies faithfulness to the great nationality to which we belong, its heart, indeed, and its greatest traditions in Britain, but its mighty limbs and no small share of its hopes for the future on the world's circumference. It is at the bar of this loyalty that the Briton at home as well as the Briton abroad must be judged. The sentiment on which it partly rests is one we need not fear to count upon, and it has its limits only with the British world. It has been proof against the defects of an illogical system: it will prove the main element of cohesion in a true system. But we need not fear to turn away entirely from sentiment to study the dry facts of material interest which each of the greater communities of the Empire has in National Unity.
[1] Britannic Confederation, p. 54.
[2] Since the above was written we have been called upon to lament the great loss which English literature has suffered in Mr. Freeman's death. I cannot but think that the critical attitude which he took towards British unity is explained by a remark which I have lately found in his Impressions of the United States. He says, 'Greatly to my ill-luck, I am wholly ignorant of all things bearing on commerce, manufactures, or agriculture.' Are not these the questions which really dominate British national development?
[3] 'No community which is not primarily charged with the ordinary business of its own maintenance and defence is really, or can be, in the full sense of the word, a free community. The privileges of freedom and the burdens of freedom are absolutely associated together. To bear the burden is as necessary as to enjoy the privilege, in order to form that character which is the great necessity of freedom itself.'—Mr. Gladstone before the Colonial Committee, 1859.
{59}
IN beginning his elaborate study of the Empire and its capacity for defence, the author of 'The Problems of Greater Britain' says:—
'The danger in our path is that the enormous forces of European militarism may crush the old country and destroy the integrity of our Empire before the growth of the newer communities that it contains has made it too strong for the attack.' In closing he says: 'The result of this survey of Imperial Defence is to bring before the mind a clearer image of the stupendous potential strength of the British Empire, and of an equally stupendous carelessness in organizing its forces. … Our ambition is not for offensive strength, and not only home-staying Britons, but our more energetic colonists themselves, decline to accept such organization of our power, with the temptations that it would bring. We wish only to be safe from the ambition of others, and the first step towards safety must be the arrangement of consistent plans for supporting the whole edifice of British rule by the assistance of all the component parts of the Empire. As all have helped to raise the fabric, so may all combine {60} to secure it by the adoption of a settled plan of Imperial Defence.'
The defence of common interests has been, in the past, the primary bond which has held federations together. It must be put in the very forefront among the arguments for British unity. Taken by itself it seems to furnish more than sufficient reason why Great Britain and her colonies should present a united political front to the world.
Common interests so vast no nation or union of nations has ever before had in the history of the world. The foundations of British greatness rest in the creative power of industry, and that interaction of industry or exchange of products which we call commerce. Industry and commerce have combined to make our nation the richest in the world. We are a race of workers and of traders. It is in virtue of our working and trading instincts that we hold today the foremost place among the nations of the world. In following them we have won Empire; it seems capable of proof that to satisfy their necessities we must maintain Empire, for what we have been in the past such we are manifestly to be on a much larger scale in the future.
Transferred to Canada, or Australia, New Zealand, the Cape, or to foreign lands, the Briton is still the eager worker and trader, and the field for the exercise of his qualities is ever enlarging. As the standard of living rises with increasing prosperity, as the comforts and luxuries of distant lands come within reach of even {61} the labouring man, commerce is stimulated anew; its safety becomes of greater concern. In the strength of the British flag to give security to the infinite army of workers who carry on their toil under its protection, is involved the welfare and prosperity of the greatest aggregation of human beings that ever was joined together in one body politic.
It is when we consider the extent of British commerce, of what the nation constantly has staked upon the security of ocean trade, that we realize the vastness and importance of the problems involved in national defence, the supreme necessity that British people should be in a position either to command peace, or to face with confidence, so far as trade is concerned, the risks of any war that may be forced upon them.
To most minds figures perhaps convey but an inadequate idea of what they represent, but it is only by figures that the extent of the stake which British people have upon the ocean can be indicated. The rapidity of expansion is as striking as the actual extent, and they may usefully be put together. In 1837, when the Queen ascended the throne, the annual value of the sea-commerce of the United Kingdom, together with that of the colonies and dependencies, was estimated at £210,000,000. That commerce has now, in a little more than fifty years, expanded to nearly £1200,000,000. Every year British people have afloat upon the ocean wealth represented by this enormous sum. Nothing like it has ever been {62} known in the history of any nation before. The marvellous expansion still goes on. In the case of the colonies and dependencies, with their unlimited possibilities of development, it is manifest that we see but the beginning of their commercial career. For them, as for the mother-islands, the safety of trade, the security of the ocean waterways, must in the interests of industry be the supreme object of statesmanship. And I believe that there is a well-nigh unanswerable line of argument which goes to prove that statesmanship will find that security most certainly and most effectually by maintaining intact the actual unity of the Empire through such further political consolidation of its various parts as will make united action possible and most effective. On the other hand, there are the strongest reasons for thinking that the separation of even one of the great colonies might produce for the colony itself, for the United Kingdom, and for the Empire at large, a fatal flaw in the capacity for defending interests which are vital to the general prosperity and to the greatness of the nation.
The outline of this argument may be shortly stated.
The vast magnitude of the Empire, and its dispersion in the various quarters of the globe, have hitherto oppressed the imagination of those charged with its defence. Vulnerability has seemed the natural concomitant of magnitude. The impression might have been correct fifty or seventy-five years ago; it is not so today. It seems a proposition fairly capable of demonstration that under the changed conditions of {63} modern communication and naval war the vast area of the Empire and the wide dispersion of its parts, so far from being a cause of weakness, are really elements, under proper organization, of a strength greater than any nation of present or past times has ever enjoyed. It is a strength, too, which particularly recommends itself to the national mind, since it is effective for defence rather than aggression.
To understand how magnitude and diffusion may be sources of strength we must recall the fact that for all purposes of trade, intercourse, and naval power, the introduction of steam has re-created the world. Before Trafalgar was fought Nelson was able to keep the sea for months, the staying power of a ship of war depending almost entirely upon its supplies of food, water, and warlike stores. Now it has become chiefly a question of coal endurance. Removed from the means of renewing its supplies of coal, the most powerful ship afloat within a very limited number of days becomes a helpless hulk.
'The striking distance of a ship of war is now on an average two thousand miles,' are the words used by Lord Salisbury not long since to indicate the nature and extent of this change in the conditions of naval defence. What he means is, we may suppose, that when a modern ship of war has filled her bunkers with coal, she can go two thousand miles, do the work assigned her, and get safely back to her starting-place. High naval authorities have told me that Lord Salisbury's average is fixed at the outside limit.
{64}
'Our fleet must be present in sufficient force to protect adequately the whole commerce of the Empire, wherever it is,' says the Secretary of the Admiralty in a last year's speech, and the press almost unanimously unites with Chambers of Commerce and other representative bodies in echoing the sentiment as a national resolution.
In discussing a considerable event in naval construction in the beginning of the present year the Times said: 'So far as human effort can attain its end, the country has now definitely resolved that the naval history of the future shall not be unworthy of its past.' It added: 'There is no finality to naval policy. … Its only sound basis is not the cost of the fleet in the abstract, but a rational estimate of the conditions of naval defence at sea.'
But the world is 25,000 miles round, and the commerce of the Empire is upon every sea. The striking distance of a ship of war is 2000 miles, and practically every ship of war we have operates under the limitations imposed by the use of steam. The figures certainly give us the necessary data for calculating what naval bases are necessary for adequate naval strength.
Surely Canada, resting on the North Atlantic and North Pacific; South Africa, commanding the passage around the Cape; and Australasia, in the centre of the vast breadth of the Indian and Pacific Oceans, are not merely useful, but, under the conditions which have been stated, essential. But when we have realized {65} that under modern conditions they are essential to widely extended sea power, we are in a position to understand the addition which they make to defensive strength. A nation which commands the great naval and coaling stations at these essential points could practically paralyze any enemy which sought to attack her, by simply closing the ports of coal supply to hostile ships.
Let me ask the reader to turn to the map of the world which accompanies this book. In it an attempt has been made to emphasize, though not unduly, a few of the main facts connected with our national position. The chief routes of British commerce are indicated—the arteries along which flow the life-blood of the nation. On what is now the principal route to the East, that through the Mediterranean and Red Seas, we note the fortified naval and coaling stations in a connected chain: Gibraltar, Malta, Bombay, Trincomalee, Singapore, and Hong Kong. At each of these stations British ships find themselves under the shelter of strong fortifications. Most of them are practically impregnable, and are supplied with docks for the repair of ships. All are points of storage for coal. Besides these stations of primary importance there are subsidiary ports, Kurrachi, Colombo, Calcutta, and many others.
Whether this remarkable hold on the greatest route of Eastern commerce is the outcome of a grasping militarism, or the natural result which arises from supreme commercial interest, may be judged from a {66} single fact. Of the 3800 steamships which passed through the Canal in 1891 seventy-eight out of every hundred were under the British flag, leaving only twenty-two divided among Frenchmen, Germans, Dutchmen, Austrians, Spaniards, Americans, and all the other nations of the world. Of the whole tonnage eighty-two per cent. was British.
Follow, again, the alternative route to the East and South around Africa. Here we find Sierra Leone, St. Helena, Cape Town, and Mauritius at intervals singularly adapted to the necessities of steam navigation under conditions of either peace or war. Other nations occupy parts of Africa, but none have naval stations of corresponding strength.
Terminating these two great Eastern routes we have in Australasia King George's Sound, Thursday Island, Melbourne, Sydney, and Auckland, which may be regarded as positions of primary naval importance. Some of these are already fortified, others have their defensive works in progress. Secondary, and yet important, are Hobart, Adelaide, Brisbane, Wellington, Lyttleton, Dunedin, and other ports.
Westward across the Atlantic, Halifax, Bermuda, St. Lucia, and Jamaica furnish adequate naval bases for the protection of the vast British commerce which traverses this ocean. The harbours of the Gulf and River St. Lawrence and Newfoundland, and of several West India islands, supplement these strongly fortified positions.
On the Pacific Coast Esquimalt and Vancouver {67} furnish stations from which may be protected the new route of trade and travel opened to the far East, and the projected route to Australasia.
Finally, the Falkland Islands, to which it has now been decided to give adequate fortifications, furnish a coaling place for ships in times of urgent necessity, and a point from which trade can be defended in the long voyage between Britain and Australia by the Cape Horn route. They also serve as a base of protection for our large trade with the Western coast of South America.
It will be seen that the map illustrates another group of facts which we must consider before we can fully grasp the relation of this geographical distribution of the Empire to naval power in an age of steam. On the Pacific and Atlantic coasts of Canada, in New Zealand, Tasmania, New South Wales, and Queensland, in India, Borneo, and South Africa, coal is noted as among the products of these countries, and in them all, there are, in fact, great coal deposits forming in each corner of the globe, a wonderful complement to those of the mother-land.
Here, then, is the outline of a maritime position such as no people ever enjoyed before. North and South, East and West, we bold the great quadrilateral of oceanic power. It is not an undue strength of position, for it has to match the greatest commercial expansion that history has known. The security of each part of the system seems essential to the security {68} of the whole, and therefore should be guaranteed by the united strength of all. And it is clear that under modern steaming conditions it is this very diffusion of the Empire over every part of the world which constitutes its greatest advantage for giving safety to a world-wide commerce.
The conditions, however, under which this maritime position is maintained, and the vast and growing commerce of the Empire now enjoys security present some anomalies which cannot possibly have in them conditions of permanency.
Let me summarize the facts as placed before the House of Commons (March 2nd, 1891), by Sir John Colomb. The annual value of the sea-borne commerce of the United Kingdom is, roughly speaking, about £740,000,000; of the colonies and dependencies £460,000,000. As the latter has increased ninefold and the former but fivefold in a little more than fifty years, it is clear that at no very distant time the sea-borne commerce of the outlying empire will become equal to and gradually surpass in value that of the United Kingdom.
The portion of the whole colonial trade which consists of interchange with the United Kingdom, and in the safety of which presumably the United Kingdom has a close and direct interest, is £187,000,000. This leaves £273,000,000 of independent trade carried on with foreign countries, or between the colonies and dependencies themselves. Compared with the sea-borne trade of great foreign powers which support {69} large war navies, Sir John Colomb finds this independent trade to be 'about four times as much as the whole sea-borne trade of all Russia; about equal to that of Germany; about three-quarters that of France; two and a-half times that of Italy; and nearly half that of the United States.' The whole of this vast and rapidly increasing independent trade has precisely the same guarantee of protection from the naval power of the Empire as the trade of the United Kingdom itself. Yet, while the net expenditure (1890) incurred by the United Kingdom in the Naval Estimates is £14,215,100, the whole contribution of the colonies and dependencies for the same purpose only amounts to £381,546, of which India alone provides £254,776. In other words, out of every pound spent for the protection of the nation's commerce at sea, the United Kingdom contributes 19s. 53/4d., the outlying empire 6 1/4d. This comparison is made even more striking when combined with the statement that the united revenues of the colonies and dependencies amount to £105,000,000, against the £89,000,000 which represent the revenue of the United Kingdom. The vast capital sum invested in ships, armament, and naval establishments, believed to amount to more than £80,000,000, is paid wholly by the taxpayers of the United Kingdom.
Besides the protection to their commerce given by the Navy, colonists enjoy as fully as British people themselves the use and advantage of the consular and diplomatic services of the Empire. The colonial merchant, {70} sailor, or shipmaster finds in every chief port of the world a consul to whom he can apply for protection—an officer whose services are paid for by the British taxpayer alone. The Imperial treasury maintains unaided the costly diplomatic staff which carries on the long and delicate negotiations in which the colonies are often more directly concerned than the mother-land itself. If the results of diplomacy sometimes fail to satisfy colonial expectations, the experience is not new among nations, nor likely to be avoided by the agencies which a colony could independently set in motion. When the execution of treaties involves loss to the individual colonist, the example of Newfoundland and the Behring Sea indicates that it is to the Imperial treasury that he chiefly looks for compensation.
This want of proportion in the distribution of national burdens is so striking that one is impelled to ask if it may not have at least some partial or temporary justification. There is one consideration of much weight. The settlers in the outlying sections of the Empire have been compelled in their short history to face tasks of great difficulty. They have had upon their hands the organization of vast continental areas, the clearing of forests, the construction of highways and railroads, the extension of the post and telegraph over immense distances, the speedy application of the machinery of civilization to new lands. Were it quite certain that all this would become a permanent addition to the strength and resources of the nation, it {71} might well be an object of national policy to relieve them from other burdens, however fair in themselves. There would, on the other hand, be no justification for this if they are in the end to become independent powers or additions to the strength of another state.
In any case, the moment that the ordinary taxpayer of the new land is as able to pay as the ordinary taxpayer of the old, the uneven distribution of responsibility becomes a gross injustice.
Meanwhile it ought to be possible to roughly define even now some of the general principles which should be attended to in distributing this responsibility.
We are fortunate in having the clearly stated opinion of one great colonial thinker upon this point. Joseph Howe is remembered in England, no less than in Canada, as one of the ablest statesmen that the colonies have produced. 'The great orator and patriot,' is the description applied to him by Mr. Goldwin Smith. As the brilliant and triumphant champion of Responsible Government his record places him absolutely beyond the suspicion of subordinating colonial interests to any others. Yet from the very outset he looked upon the attainment of complete independence of local government in the colonies as but a stepping-stone to the assertion of still higher national rights, to the acceptance of still higher responsibilities; to some form of substantial union among British people, based on considerations of equal citizenship and the defence of common interests. As far back as 1854 he delivered in the Nova Scotia Legislature an {72} address, since published in his collected speeches under the name of the 'Organization of the Empire,' which attracted wide attention at the time, and, indeed, embodies most of what has since been said by the advocates of national unity. Twelve years later, when on a visit to England, he published in pamphlet form an essay bearing the same title, and giving his more fully matured views upon the question. If the genesis and enunciation of the Imperial Federation idea in its modern form is to be credited to anyone, it must be assigned to Joseph Howe for this early and comprehensive statement of the main issues involved. The study of the utterances of this great colonist, this champion of colonial rights, may be commended to those shallow critics who profess to believe that the proposal for national unity is an outcome of Imperial selfishness, and that its operation would tend to cramp colonial development.
Mr. Howe had none of the illusions which prevail in some parts of the colonies about the possibility of enjoying peace without taking the steps necessary to secure it: 'We have no security for peace,' he says, 'or if there be any, it is only to be sought in such an organization and armament of the whole Empire as will make the certainty of defeat a foregone conclusion to any foreign power that may attempt to break it.' And again, 'The question of questions for us all, far transcending in importance any other within the range of domestic or foreign politics, is not how the Empire can be most easily dismembered, not how a province {73} or two can be strengthened by a fort, or by the expenditure of a million of dollars, but how the whole Empire can be so organized and strengthened as to command peace or be impregnable in war.'
After discussing the best method of securing the representation of colonial ideas in influencing the general policy of the country, a condition which he believes necessarily precedent to joint expenditure, Mr. Howe then boldly grapples with the question of provision for defence.
'By another bill, to operate uniformly over the whole Empire (India being excepted, as she provides for her own army) the funds should be raised for the national defence. This measure, like the other, should be submitted for the sanction of the colonial governments and legislatures. This tax should be distinguished from all other imposts, that the amount collected could be seen at a glance, and that every portion of the whole people might see what they paid and what every other portion had to pay.
'This fund could either be raised as head money over the whole population, in the form of a property or income tax, or [as Mr. Howe preferred] by a certain percentage upon imports; constituting, next to existing liabilities, a first charge upon colonial revenues, and being paid into the military chest to the credit of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury.'
Two important qualifications Mr. Howe suggests as to the incidence of this national taxation upon the colonies.
{74}
'As the great arsenals, dockyards, depots, and elaborate fortifications are in these islands; as the bulk of the naval and military expenditure for arms, munitions, and provisions occurs here, where are the great fleets and camps, the people of Great Britain and Ireland ought to be prepared to pay, and I have no doubt would, a much larger proportion towards this fund than it would be fair to exact from the outlying provinces, where, in time of peace, there is but little of naval or military expenditure.
'In another respect a wise discrimination should be exercised. Within the British Islands are stored up the fruits of eighteen centuries of profitable industry. All that generations of men toiled for, and have bequeathed, is now in possession of the resident population here, including all that was created and left by the forefathers of those by whom the British colonies have been founded. Taking into view, then, the comparison which these wealthy and densely peopled islands bear to the sparsely populated countries beyond the sea, it would seem but fair that they should assume, in proportion to numbers, a much larger share of the burthens of national defence.'
He then sums up: 'If the general principle be admitted, we need not waste time with the details, which actuaries and accountants can adjust. Fair allowance being made under these two heads, I can see no reason why the colonists should not contribute in peace and war their fair quotas towards the defence of the Empire.
{75}
'But the question may now be asked, and everything turns upon the answer that may be given to it, will the colonies consent to pay this tax, or to make any provision at all for the defence of the Empire? It must be apparent that no individual can give an answer to this question; that the Cabinet, were they to propound this policy, even after the most anxious enquiry and full deliberation, could only wait in hope and confidence for the response to be given by so many communities, so widely dispersed and affected by so many currents of thought. … That it is the duty, and would be for the interest, of all Her Majesty's subjects in the outlying provinces, fairly admitted to the enjoyment of the privileges indicated, to make this contribution, I have not the shadow of doubt. … Without efficient organization they cannot lean upon and strengthen each other or give to the mother-country that moral support which in peace makes diplomacy effective, and in war would make the contest short, sharp, and decisive. … If once organized and consolidated, under a system mutually advantageous and generally known, there would be an end to all jealousies between the taxpayers at home and abroad. We should no longer be weakened by discussions about defence or propositions for dismemberment, and the irritation now kept up by shallow thinkers and mischievous politicians would give place to a general feeling of brotherhood, of confidence, of mutual exertion, dependence, and security. The great powers of Europe and America would at once recognize {76} the wisdom and forethought out of which had sprung this national combination, and they would be slow to test its strength. We should secure peace on every side by the notoriety given to the fact that on every side we were prepared for war.'
One more quotation is necessary to place before the reader the full breadth and courage of Mr. Howe's reasoning:—
'But suppose this policy proposed and the appeal made, and that the response is a determined negative. Even in that case it would be wise to make it, because the public conscience of the mother-country would then be clear, and the hands of her statesmen free, to deal with the whole question of national defence in its broadest outlines or in its bearings on the case of any single province or group of provinces, which might then be dealt with in a more independent manner.
'But I will not for a moment do my fellow-colonists the injustice to suspect that they will decline a fair compromise of a question which involves at once their own protection and the consolidation of the Empire. At all events, if there are any communities of British origin anywhere, who desire to enjoy all the privileges and immunities of the Queen's subjects without paying for and defending them, let us ascertain who and what they are—let us measure the proportions of political expenditure now, in a season of tranquillity, when we have the leisure to gauge the extent of the evil and apply correctives, rather than wait till war finds us {77} unprepared and leaning upon presumptions in which there is no reality.'
No apology seems needed for placing before the reader at such length the views held on this crucial question of national defence by one of the great fathers of Responsible Government in the colonies, a man whose whole life was marked by absolute devotion to the principles of popular government and to colonial interests.
Joseph Howe spoke and wrote of conditions existing before that great period of Canadian development and expenditure which followed upon the confederation of the different provinces. This probably accounts in large measure for the different view of the situation taken and the different solution of the question suggested by his distinguished successor, Sir Charles Tupper. The right and duty of the colonies to contribute to the general strength of the Empire which guarantees them security is admitted as fully by Sir Charles Tupper as by Joseph Howe. Of the most expedient method for utilizing the young energy and growing resources of the colonies he takes a different view. In an article recently published in a leading magazine[1] he says:—
'Many persons, I am aware, both in the colonies and here, have looked upon the question of the defence of the Empire as best promoted and secured by a direct contribution to the support of the army and navy of this country. That I regard as a very {78} mistaken opinion; and I believe that there is a much more effective way of promoting the object in view. In my opinion, no contribution to the support of the army and navy of England on the part of Canada would have contributed to the defence of the Empire in a greater degree than the mode in which the public money in Canada has been expended for that purpose. We have expended, in addition to an enormous grant of land, over a million pounds sterling per annum, from the first hour that we became a united country down to the present day, in constructing a great Imperial highway across Canada from ocean to ocean; not only furnishing the means for the expansion of the trade and the development of Canada, but providing the means of intercommunication at all seasons between different parts of the country,'
After pointing out that the construction of the Transcontinental Railway enabled Canada in 1885 to put down without England's help the half-breed rebellion, while the previous outbreak in 1870 had required the services of General Wolseley and the Imperial troops for several months, Sir Charles Tupper goes on to say:—
'We have, therefore, not only provided the means of intercommunication, the means of carrying on our trade and business, but have also established a great Imperial highway which England might to-morrow find almost essential for the maintenance of her power in the East. Not only has Canada furnished {79} a highway across the continent, but it has brought Yokahama three weeks nearer to London than it is by the Suez Canal. I give that as an illustration that there are other means which, in my judgment, may contribute much more to the increased strength and the greatness of the Empire than any contribution that could be levied upon any of the colonies. … The expenditure by the Government of Canada that has successfully opened up these enormous tracts of country in the great North West of the Dominion, which promise to be the granary of the world, is of itself the best means of making England strong and prosperous, as it will attract a large British population thither.'
Sir Charles Tupper can also speak of more direct contributions which the Dominion makes to the national strength.
'Canada has in addition expended since confederation over forty millions of dollars upon her militia and mounted police, and in the establishment of a military college, which, I am proud to know from one of the highest authorities, is second to no military school in the world, and of nine other military schools and batteries in the various provinces, of which the Dominion is composed. In 1889 Canada expended no less than two millions of dollars on the militia and North West mounted police, which anyone who knows the country will admit is a most effective means of defence. It is true we have a comparatively small permanent force, but {80} we have established military schools, and we have such a nucleus of a further force as in case of need would enable us to develop the militia in the most effective manner, consisting of 37,000 volunteers who are trained annually, and a reserve of 1,000,000 men, liable to be called upon should necessity arise.'
Once more: 'One of the most effective means adopted by the Imperial Parliament for the defence of the Empire is by subsidizing fast steamers built under Admiralty supervision, with armament which can be made available at a moment's notice. These steamers could maintain their position and keep up mail communication in time of war or be used for the transport of troops. Canada has contributed £15,000 a year to a splendid line of steamers, such as I have described, now plying between Canada, Japan, and China, and has offered no less than £165,000 per annum to put a service like the Teutonic between England and Canada, and a fast service between Canada and Australia. All these splendid steamers would be effective as cruisers if required for the protection of British commerce, and the transport of troops and thousands of volunteers to any point that the protection of the Empire demanded.'
It is on grounds thus stated that Sir Charles Tupper concludes that, 'Instead of adding to its defence, the strength of a colony would be impaired by taking away the means which it requires for its development and for increasing its defensive power, {81} if it were asked for a contribution to the army and navy.'
The argument, which may be applied to all the colonies, amounts to this, that it would be true national economy to leave free at present all the energies and resources of these young countries for local defence and for carrying on the mere processes of growth. Obviously the fairness of this arrangement, for which there is much to be said, depends entirely on the assurance that the colony is to remain permanently a part of the Empire. There is no reason why Britain or any other mother-country should bear any part of the natural burdens of a colony if the colony is, nevertheless, left free to mark its adolescence by declaring itself independent, or by annexing itself to another and perhaps rival state. It is equally obvious that such an arrangement could in no sense be final; and that it only shifts the question of more normal adjustment of national burdens to a time not very far remote. It could therefore in any case only be looked upon as a temporary compromise. For instance, the whole volume of colonial trade (including India) is to that of the United Kingdom now in about the proportion of four to seven: judging from the relative rate of increase before referred to the day is not far distant when they will be equal. The proportion of population is also changing rapidly. The anomaly of one half of the national trade and one half of the population bearing the direct naval expenditure of the {82} whole would be very great indeed. This method, too, would seem to conflict rather seriously with a principle which has become a very fundamental idea in the British mind, viz. that a bearing of burdens in some very direct form must go hand in hand with representation. Till direct responsibility in general defence is undertaken, direct representation in determining general policy can scarcely be conceded. To fix the point at which any colony should become a direct instead of an indirect contributor to the nation's defensive strength would be a manifest necessity. To these criticisms Sir Charles Tupper can fairly answer that he deals in his proposition only with actual and not with prospective conditions. In fixing new and permanent relations, however, for an empire which is changing as rapidly as ours, the future must be kept in view as much as the present. Doubtless the true settlement of the question lies in a compromise between the present and the future.
Not long since one of the most prominent of English statesmen put the matter to me in this way: 'We in Great Britain know very well that while you in the colonies are engaged in organizing great continents and furnishing them with the machinery of civilization we cannot expect you to contribute for common purposes in proportion to us, who start with the stored up resources and appliances of centuries. But we know that as you complete your docks, harbours and lighthouses, your railroads and canals, your schoolhouses and churches, as society becomes {83} settled and the needs of civilization supplied, then you will gradually become ready and willing to bear your full proportion of those burdens which are the token of full and equal citizenship.' With him, as with Joseph Howe, the settlement of the central principle of national unity was the main point; the determination of the details of expenditure was a matter for friendly negotiation—for actuaries and accountants.
We may now ask, as did Joseph Howe, whether the great colonies would be willing to accept, either immediately or by gradual and progressive steps, any further share in the responsibilities of the nation. It may be assumed that this decision will be based on the facts and arguments of the case.
'Reason shows and experience proves that no commercial prosperity can be durable if it cannot be united, in case of need, to naval force.' This remark of De Tocqueville is so fully proved by the facts of history that its truth may be accepted as axiomatic. It is a truth for the colonies to consider. Highly commercial already, their desire and manifest destiny are to be still more so. Canada's commercial navy, as has been said, already ranks fourth in the world. She is a first-class shipping power. Australia's trade is perhaps greater in proportion to population than that of any other country. Alone among all the people of the past or present, British colonists have not had to accept the full responsibilities of increasing commercial greatness. The {84} little republic of Chili, with a trade of £26,000,000, and a population of about 3,000,000 maintains 40,000 tons of armed shipping, at a large annual expense. The other republics of South America bear like burdens. Australia, with its much larger volume of sea trade and far greater of revenue, pays only £126,000 for naval defence, strictly confined to its own shores. Canada, with its remarkable tonnage of ocean shipping, its great interests at stake on its eastern and western coasts, leans almost entirely for defence of commerce and fisheries upon British ironclads paid for exclusively by the people of the United Kingdom.
The deceptive argument, drawn from the example of the United States at some periods of their history, that a degree of isolation gives immunity from such burdens, has now lost its force. The policy of the Great Republic has been sharply reversed, and the creation of a powerful navy has become an object of national ambition, and is apparently the outcome of national necessities developed by the widening of commercial relations.
Judged, then, by all historical precedent, the great colonies must in the natural course of events accept naval defence as a part of their ordinary burdens. That they have escaped this form of expense hitherto is manifestly due almost entirely to the fact that as parts of the empire they have been so fortunate as to enjoy without cost the protection of a supreme naval power. Will they secure the most effective defence, the best return for the money they spend, within the {85} Empire or without? Within the Empire they would have the advantage of naval bases in every important corner of the world. The portion of force contributed by themselves would have the prestige of the whole to make it most effective. They would have the advantage of all the stored-up skill and experience of the greatest school of naval training that the world has ever known. They would have the direction of naval experience absolutely unique. They would be able at once in spending their money to avail themselves of the best results of naval experiments carried on by the United Kingdom at enormous cost. Alike in cheapness and efficiency they would enjoy the advantages which come from co-operation on a great scale.
There is, of course, an opposing view. Stated in its extreme form it was put thus, three or four years ago, to the Legislature of Quebec by Mr. Mercier:—
'Up to the present time we have lived a colonial life, but today they wish us to assume, in spite of ourselves, the responsibilities and dangers of a sovereign state, which will not be ours. They seek to expose us to vicissitudes of peace and war against the great powers of the world; to rigorous exigencies of military service as practised in Europe; to disperse our sons from the freezing regions of the North Pole to the burning sands on the desert of Sahara; an odious regime which will condemn us to the forced impost of blood and money, and wrest from our arms out sons, who are the hope of our country and {86} the consolation of our old days, and send them off to bloody and distant wars, which we shall not be able to stop or prevent.'
Probably Mr. Mercier's auditors were well enough acquainted with history to detect at once the obvious fallacy of his argument.
Still, it is worth while to remind colonial writers and speakers when they assert, as they sometimes do, that a union of defence with Britain means the dragging away of Canadians or Australians to fight in Europe or Asia, that Britain is the one country in the world that has never, in modern times, been compelled to resort to conscription; that no one is asked to fight in the ranks of her army or in her fleet except those who wish to, and that on these terms she has been able to put into the field and on the sea all the soldiers and sailors she requires. This is as true of her large native Indian armies as it is of her English, Scotch, Welsh, or Irish regiments. Britain knows nothing of the conscription which prevails in Germany, France, and Russia, which even the United States found necessary in the War of Secession. The men whom Australia sent to the Soudan she sent of her own accord, and not at Britain's request, much less her command; the numerous Canadian officers now holding commissions and in the active service of the Empire are there by their own individual choice. There is not the slightest reason to suppose that the British system of a purely voluntary service would be changed under any new political conditions imposed {87} by closer union. The career of a soldier is one which has for many minds a great attraction. With the progress of military science, it now offers in many of its departments, as never before, a field for the highest intellectual qualities and scientific attainments. To say the very least, to be a defender of one's country is a not unworthy ambition. It is therefore extremely likely that into the great career offered by an Imperial service many colonists with military predilections would be drawn. Even if their sole object were to prepare themselves for the service of the particular part of the Empire to which they belonged, the wider training to be obtained in the highly organized system of a great state would be invaluable. But once more I repeat that the service would be purely voluntary. If Mr. Mercier and those of his compatriots who think with him have lost what was once supposed to be an instinct of their race, they have the opportunity within the British Empire, which they could not depend upon having in France, of following their inclination. Mr. Goldwin Smith states, though I think incorrectly, that colonists are essentially non-military. If his view is true, then the task of defending the Empire will naturally gravitate into the hands of those in whom the military instinct is strong, of whom the Empire has always as yet found enough for all its needs.
Again, in a somewhat similar connection Mr. Smith speaks of 'the heavy weight of a constant liability to entanglements in the quarrels of England all over the {88} world, with which Canada has nothing to do, and about which nothing is known by her people. Her commerce may any day be cut up and want brought into her homes by a war about the frontier of Afghanistan, about the treatment of Armenia or Crete by the Turks, about the relation of the Danubian Principalities to Russia, or about the balance of power in Europe.' Let us put against this flight of imagination the solid facts of history and see if Canada has had any reason to feel this pressure of dread from her connection with Britain. In 1812 British troops assisted Canadians in repelling what Mr. Smith himself describes as 'unprincipled aggression.' Since that time under the British flag Canada has known a continuance of peace absolutely without parallel for a corresponding' period among all the nations of the world. The last European war in which England took part was that with Russia, closed in 1856. The effect upon Canada of that war was a stimulus given to her timber and provision trade by the closing of Baltic and Black Sea ports. One of Canada's own sons, General Williams, the hero of Kars, won in that war a fame of which every Canadian is proud. Since 1856 there has been an Austro-Italian war, an Austro-Prussian war, a Franco-Prussian war, a Russo-Turkish war. No British sword was drawn, no Canadian interest touched in all of these. The gigantic civil war of secession shook the American union to its foundations; Britain took no part, and Canadians along with her lived in peace. In India {89} Britain was compelled in 1856-7 to go through a strain of agony and effort to maintain her place of power. Canada's sole part was to weep at the fate, to glory in the heroism of those who suffered or who won at Lucknow, Cawnpore, Delhi, and a hundred other scenes of conflict. With England's numerous petty wars with barbarian tribes on the fringe of advancing civilization, mostly undertaken in behalf of colonists, Canada has had nothing to do[2]. When she had her first half-breed rebellion British troops were promptly sent to put it down. So far, then, Canada has not had 'want brought into her homes' through her connection with Britain, but on the contrary has enjoyed a peace and security that might well be the envy of the world. Like the United States, Canada enjoys the advantage of isolation from European strife, together with the further advantage of connection {90} with a power whose flag gives to Canadian ships and commerce on every ocean the surest guarantee of safety at present existing in the world; a guarantee the importance and significance of which will increase with the growth of Canadian commerce; a guarantee which she could not possibly find under an independent flag, nor yet under the flag of the United States, whose one weakness, by the admission of American authorities themselves, lies in the want of those naval bases which are everywhere the necessary adjuncts of extended maritime security.
But even when the extraordinary immunity from the risks of war which the colonies have enjoyed under the British flag has been demonstrated it seems well to give due weight to any honest objection which exists to committing themselves entirely to the military policy of the Empire at large, until, at least, the sense of national unity has had time to become fully developed. That the colonies will refuse to contribute to Imperial defence, as is sometimes asserted, I do not believe, and facts are themselves now beginning to disprove the statement. That they may contribute enormously to the national strength without offending the prejudices of even the most sensitive may also be shown. Lord Thring has made a suggestion upon this point which seems to me exceedingly interesting and helpful. After pointing out the overwhelming common interest which all parts of the Empire have in resisting attack from without, he proposes that in each of the great colonies willing {91} to enter into the arrangement defensive forces should be created which would be recognized parts of the Imperial army and navy. These forces should not primarily be under a compulsory obligation to serve out of their own countries, or beyond their own limits, but when called out for Imperial purposes within their limits they should form a part of the Imperial army and navy, and be under the same general control. But the colonial forces should be empowered to volunteer for the common national service out of their own limits, and on so doing they should be regarded as an integral part of the nation's defensive force.
A national military and naval organization such as that here suggested would appeal directly to that local patriotism, instinctive in all, which considers no sacrifice too great if it is made for the defence of men's own homes and firesides; it furnishes the opportunity for that wider national patriotism which knows that the safety of the parts depends upon the safety of the whole; and it meets the objection which has been mentioned before, and is often made, to young communities being compelled against their will to take an active part outside their own borders in wars in which their concern is only indirect. The actual defensive force of the Empire would be immensely increased by the effective organization of each part under a common direction, a necessity so often and strenuously insisted upon by Sir Charles Dilke and others who have thought and written upon national defence; its contingent force would be still {92} more increased in the event of a war which appeals to the reason and sympathy of the several great communities.
Those who argue for separation in the colonies, as well as men like the late Mr. Bright at home, rest their case largely upon the view that the mother-country carries permanently along with her the entanglements of a traditional foreign policy which is chiefly European, and with which it is unfair to involve young communities in parts of the world remote from Europe[3]. This view seems based on past history more than on the facts of the present. More and more every day Britain tends to become a world power, and it is this fact rather than her European position which dominates her policy. She faces Europe much more in the interest of her colonies than in the support of ancient traditions. We have only to read the news from day to day, or the summary of national policy for a year as it is presented in a Queen's Speech, to see that Lord Salisbury was within the strict limit of fact when he told a deputation but a few months since that his work in the Foreign Office had made him {93} deeply sensible of 'the large portion of our foreign negotiations, our foreign difficulties, and the danger of foreign complications which arise entirely from our colonial connections; and the effect is that from time to time we have to exercise great vigilance lest we should incur dangers which do not arise from any interest of our own, but arise entirely from the interests of the important and interesting communities to which we are linked.'
The difficulty with the United States in the Behring Sea and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and with the French in Newfoundland; the complicated negotiations with Germany, Portugal, and other powers, European and native, in Africa, chiefly entered into in behalf of colonies or colonizing companies, are, to take the very latest illustrations, quite sufficient to give definiteness to Lord Salisbury's statement[4].
To some sincere thinkers in the colonies the value of British protection seems slight compared with the risks entailed by the Imperial connection. They believe that the true and evident policy for these young countries is to break off this connection and so free {94} themselves from its dangers. Having no reason to quarrel with anybody they anticipate with independence not only the immunity which they have enjoyed from war, but the further relief from the fear of war. Commerce carried on without naval protection; internal safety secured without expense on military organization; a neutral flag respected by all belligerents; the settlement of all differences by friendly arbitration, seem to them not unreasonable expectations.
The dread of some Englishmen, on the other hand, is that they may be drawn into wars in which they have no direct interest by the action of individual colonies.
Each of these opinions has some superficial ground of justification; each process of reasoning has, if pushed to its final conclusions, fatal defects. But is there not reason to believe that the growth of the Empire is bringing us to a point when the policy of England and her colonies may be entirely coincident on the great questions of peace or war?
In the desperate struggle for existence which England in past centuries has often had to carry on, in those contests which have toughened the fibre of her children and fitted them to be of the ruling races of the world, she has often had to make combinations or enter into agreements with the European nations around her from which she would gladly have kept herself free. But with the spread of the Empire abroad England is every day becoming more able {95} to look away from Europe, to stand aloof from purely European disputes, and to secure all the strength she requires from combination with communities which are her own offspring.
Such an outcome of the nation's life would be the best justification for all that England has suffered and spent in building up the Empire. But it is not for colonists to forget that she has spent and suffered much.
At Melbourne two years ago, in a lecture intended to refute the arguments for British unity, and to point out the danger to Australia of remaining connected with the Empire, Sir Archibald Michie, with great apparent deliberation, said: 'As the miserable result of her (England's) past foreign policy, as ineffectual to any good purpose as it has proved expensive, she is indebted to the amount of some £700,000,000 to the public creditor, the National Debt. To what an extent does not this one miserable fact, so disgusting to all Chancellors of the Exchequer, cripple the strength and movements of the mother-country, and weaken her influence with the world at large.' Were this the thought of a single man it would be scarce worth while to recall it. But in some of the colonies similar reference to the National Debt is found not infrequently in journals which must be taken seriously, and in the mouths of men who influence public opinion. Often it is emphasized by a triumphant allusion to the different application of colonial borrowings, represented as they are by assets in the form of railways, canals, harbour improvements, {96} telegraph systems, and public works of many kinds. The criticism and comparison seem misleading in the last degree.
We may make a liberal allowance for mistakes in British foreign policy. We may criticise things done in the heat of national passion, or at times when Britain was carrying on a struggle for existence. We may leave out of our reckoning the glory of having saved the liberties of Europe when other nations were yielding in despair, when British subsidies alone brought their armies into the field, and British resolution inspired them with new courage. Yet, when all this allowance has been made, we may say that a colonist is perhaps the last man in the world to sneer at the public debt of England. She came out of the prolonged and tremendous struggle which piled up her debt possessing as an asset to show for it about one-fifth of the known world. Professor Seeley has proved conclusively that England's great continental wars, the chief causes of her vast expenditures, were in large measure contests for colonial supremacy. From those wars she gained the power to give Canada to the Canadians, Australia to the Australians, vast areas and limitless resources in many lands to those of her people who have gone to inhabit them, and so to complete by industry the conquest begun by arms. From those wars she emerged with a command of the sea which has enabled her to supplement her gift of territory with a guarantee of safety which has secured it from attack during the early stages of settlement until the {97} present time. The National Debt would seem to be a natural mortgage upon the territories acquired by war expenditure, yet the gift of Crown lands which was made to the colonies acquiring responsible government was made absolutely free from this mortgage. These Crown lands in all the colonies are sold and used entirely for local benefit, while the whole incidence of taxation for what may fairly be called the interest of the purchase-money falls upon the United Kingdom alone.