THE EARL OF QUESTIONS OF EMPIRE [Archibald Philip Primrose, Earl of Rosebery, sometime premier of Great Britain, was born in London in 1847. He was educated at Eton and Oxford, and became a peer at twenty-one. He held office under Gladstone in 1881 and again in 1886. His remarkable political aptitudes and the popular qualities of his oratory had by this time made him prominent in the political world. His devotion to the principles of the Liberal party as led by Gladstone could not be questioned, and upon the retirement of "the grand old man "in 1894 the Queen sent for Lord Rosebery, who thereupon became premier, but he went out of power the following year. His subsequent course has made his attitude toward his party anomalous. Throughout the South African war he declined to act with a section of the Liberal party headed by Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, some of the points of difference being Irish Home Rule, which he repudiated, and imperialism, which he interpreted in a vigorous sense. Subsequently, however, he showed a more conciliatory disposition, and the movement to reunite the Liberal party under his leadership has recently gathered considerable force. The speech that follows was made before the University of Glasgow, as Lord Rector, in 1900, and deals with the progress and increase of the political power of Great Britain.] I HAVE thought that I would best serve you, my young constituents, by speaking to you of a subject which affects us all, and with which I have had something, though not much, to do-a concrete contemporary subject, which fills all minds at times, which will increasingly fill yours. I wish to say something to you of that British empire of which we are the tenants in fee, of which we inherit the responsibility and the glory. It is so vast a topic that I can only touch a fringe, I can only deal with considerations which directly affect yourselves. It is in the strict sense a political subject, but it is outside party politics, and can and should be treated without affecting the most sensitive apprehension. But even here I must make a single exception; for there are some to whom the very word is abhorrent, to whom at any rate the word is under suspicion. It bears to them some taint of disagreeable association. They affect to see in it danger of braggadocio or aggression. Personally I do not share their suspicions. Still, it is not the word, but the thing, that I value. I admit that the term has been constantly prostituted in Britain as well as elsewhere. And yet we cannot discard it, for there is no convenient synonym. If any other word can be invented which as adequately expresses a number of states of vast size under a single sovereign, I would gladly consider it. But at present there is none. And in the meantime the word "empire" represents to us our history, our tradition, our race. It is to us a matter of influence, of peace, of commerce, of civilization—above all, a question of faith. But it is also a matter of business, a practical affair. You have received from your forefathers this great appanage; no one outside an asylum wishes to be rid of it. The question, then, at this time is simply how to do the best with it. That is a tremendous problem, so tremendous that you and I and all of us have to take our share of it. And all of us in this hall, rich or poor, young or old, clever or dull, can do something, each in his line of life, like bees in their cells, to make this empire surer, better, and happier, even if only by being honest, industrious citizens ourselves. Moreover, the empire never needed such loyal service so much as now. Never did it so urgently require the strenuous and united support of its subjects. For in the present state of the world an active vigilance is more than ever required. We have to make sure of our equipment. This we are apt to take for granted. On the contrary, I maintain that there is much to overhaul, to examine, and to reconsider; that what would have kept the empire together in the days when we had an unenvied monopoly of colonies and when armaments were both less vast and less menacing will not suffice now; that there is a disposition to challenge both our naval and commercial position, which requires our utmost vigilance; that we may have to test our training, our habits, our character, our capacity, for work by severer standards than have hitherto been applied; that we must be called upon for effort and sacrifice if we wish to maintain our place; that we must be prepared, in a word, to set our house in order and to consider whether what has sufficed in the past will suffice in the future. What is this empire? The last calculation seems to be this: that its area is between eleven and twelve millions of square miles, and that its subjects number in round figures some four hundred millions. The details in so spacious a summary matter little. It is already beyond comprehension. And yet one cannot but pause for a moment to reflect that but for a small incident-the very ordinary circumstance of the acceptance of a peerage-this empire might have been incalculably greater. Had the elder Pitt, when he became first minister, not left the House of Commons, he would probably have retained his sanity and his authority. He would have prevented, or suppressed, the reckless budget of Charles Townshend, have induced George III. to listen to reason, have introduced representatives from America into the Imperial Parliament, and preserved the thirteen American colonies to the British crown. Is it fanciful to dwell for a moment on what might have happened? The Reform bill which was passed in 1832 would probably have been passed much earlier, for the new blood of America would have burst the old vessels of the Constitution. It would. have provided for some self-adjusting system of representation such as now prevails in the United States, by which increasing population is proportionately represented. And at last, when the Americans became the majority, the seat of empire would perhaps have been moved solemnly across the Atlantic, and Britain have become the historical shrine and the European outpost of the world empire. What an extraordinary revolution it would have been had it been accomplished! The greatest known without bloodshed; the most sublime transference of power in the history of mankind. Our conceptions can scarcely picture the procession across the Atlantic-the greatest sovereign in the greatest fleet in the universe, ministers, government, Parliament, departing solemnly for the other hemisphere, not, as in the case of the Portuguese sovereigns, emigrating to Brazil under the spur of necessity, but under the vigor ous embrace of the younger world. It is well to bridle the imagination, lest it become fantastic and extravagant. Moreover, it is a result to which we can scarcely acclimatize ourselves, even in idea. But the other effects might have been scarcely less remarkable. America would have hung on the skirts of Britain and pulled her back out of European complications. She would have profoundly affected the foreign policy of the mother-country in the direction of peace. Her influence in our domestic policy would have been scarcely less potent. It might probably have appeased and even contented Ireland. The ancient Constitution of Great Britain would have been rendered more comprehensive and more elastic. On the other hand, the American yearning for liberty would have taken a different form; it would have blended with other traditions and flowed into other molds. And, above all, had there been no separation there would have been no War of Independence, no War of 1812, with all the bitter memories that these have left on American soil. To secure that priceless boon I could have been satisfied to see the British Federal Parliament sitting in Columbia Territory. It is difficult indeed to dam the flow of ideas in dealing with so pregnant a possibility. But I restrain myself, because I know that I am dreaming, and that an historical dream, though not a bad relaxation in itself, should not be allowed to become a nightmare. I acknowledge, too, that this is what is called an academical discussion. But where should one be academical if not in the ancient University of Glasgow? Let us then return to earth, or at any rate to that large proportion of it which is covered by the Union Jack. I have, before wandering into the empire as it might have been, given you the broad aspect of the empire as it is. Now, for my purpose it is not important to consider whether this empire is greater or less than others, for it is impossible to compare states. Mere area, mere population, do not necessarily imply power; still less do they import the security and contentment of the inhabitants. But my main reason for discarding relative proportions is very different. We have to consider not others, but ourselves. It is not alien empires which should concern us, except when they menace or compete. Our first main necessary responsi bility is to our own. It is so vast, so splendid, so pregnant, that we have to ask ourselves: Are we adequate to it? Can we discharge our responsibility to God and to man for so magnificent, so populous a proportion of the world? Our answer, offhand, is ready and simple. We are adequate. We do discharge our responsibilities. We are a conquering and imperial race. All over the world we have displayed our mettle. We have discovered and annexed and governed vast territories. We have circled the globe with our commerce. We have penetrated the pagan races with our missionaries. We have inoculated the universe with our institutions. We are apt indeed to believe that our soldiers are braver, our sailors hardier, our captains, naval and military, skilfuller, our statesmen wiser, than those of other nations. As for our Constitution, there is no Briton at any hour of the day or night who will suffer it to be said that there is any that approaches it. All this is in a measure true, I hope; at any rate, I am not here to dispute it. When, indeed, I remember some episodes during the past twelve months, I feel that it is hardly possible to exaggerate the courage and character of our nation: the brave boys at the front, the silent endurance at home-I cannot think of these without emotion, as well as with admiration and with pride. But our boasts, even if they be true, do not contain the whole truth. It would be well enough if we could lie on a bank of asphodel, basking in our history, our glory, and our past. That, however, is not possible. Never was it less possible than now. Fifty years ago we had to face a world that was comparatively inert. Europe was concerned with Europe, and little more. The armies of Europe were relatively small, and not wholly disproportionate to United States had no army. Ten or twelve years later a terrible convulsion rent the great Republic, and for a moment her hosts were numbered by the million. That baleful flame shot up to heaven and sank down when the agony was overpast, but its memory remained a portent. Twenty years later, a national war arose between France and Germany which produced a potent German empire, and converted all the nations of Europe into passive armies. We remained complacent in the confidence that these storms The |