[Sidenote:  Lord Wolmer.]

The Committee was now on Clause 3.  This is the clause which contains the list of the subjects on which the Irish Legislature is not to have the right to legislate—­such questions as the succession to the Crown, questions of peace and war, foreign treaties, coinage, copyright, trade, etc.  The list is comprehensive enough, but it was not comprehensive enough for Lord Wolmer; for he had an amendment to the effect that the Irish Legislature should not be allowed to pass even resolutions on these subjects.  But even his own amendment did not satisfy him.  He amended the amendment by further proposing that the Irish Legislature should not be allowed even to “discuss” any of these questions.  The speech in favour of these proposals started from the point of departure common to all the Unionists, namely, that the Irish people were hereditary and irreconcilable enemies, and that the moment they had a native Legislature, it would immediately proceed to make alliances with every Power in the world which was hostile to the British Empire.  There was France; of course, the Irish Legislature would pass a resolution of sympathy with France in case there was a war between France and England.  Then there was the United States; what was there to prevent the Irish Executive from sending an envoy to the United States?  And so on, through all the possibilities and all the insanity and malignity of which an Irish Legislature could be held capable.

[Sidenote:  Sweet and low.]

Mr. Gladstone on one or two points was able to overthrow the whole case so elaborately made up.  The Irish Parliament could not send representatives to a foreign Power, because they could not vote the money for such a purpose under the Bill.  “Ah, but”—­interrupted the incautious Wolmer—­“could they not send envoys who were unpaid?” “No,” promptly responded the Old Man, “because they had no power under the Bill to ‘accredit’ envoys, and a foreign Power could not receive an envoy who was not accredited.”  All this argument—­broad, acute, tranquil—­was delivered in a voice that now and then was painfully low, and sometimes you had to strain your ears.  But then it was worth your while to strain your ears, so that you might master all the supremacy of the art and skill and knowledge of the whole speech.

For instance, he puts the question to Lord Wolmer, if he seriously means that the Irish Legislature is not to have the right to petition?  Lord Wolmer answers that the Irish members will be in the Imperial Parliament.  “Ah! that’s an argument, not an answer,” says the Old Man; and then, with the spring of a tiger, he pounces on the hapless Wolmer with the question:  “Is the right of petition, then, to be taken away in every case where there is representation?”—­a question which, with petitions pouring in by the thousand to the House of Commons from the Ulstermen and others, a Unionist like Lord Wolmer finds it impossible to