into the relations between classes or nations.
To this delusion of personification is due the notion
that Englishmen of to-day ought to make compensation
and feel personal shame for the cruelties of Cromwell,
or for Pitt’s corruption of Irish patriots; that
we are in some way liable and should feel compunction
for crimes committed by (possibly) the ancestors of
the very men to whom we are now supposed to owe reparation.
To the same cause is to be attributed the absurd demand
that the Irish Catholics should put on ashes and sackcloth
for the massacres of 1641, or that living Irishmen
should be grateful for the well-meant though most
unsuccessful efforts made by the Parliament of the
United Kingdom to govern one-third of the United Kingdom
on sound principles of justice. A Sovereign’s
plainest duty is to rule his subjects for their good
according to the best of his power and of his knowledge,
and the mere discharge of duty does not entitle a
ruler to gratitude from the persons who are benefited
by his justice. A Parliamentary Sovereign being
the representative and agent of its (so-called) subjects,
is
a fortiori if there can be degrees in such
matters—bound to govern for the benefit
of the people whom it represents and ought to serve;
and there is something strictly preposterous in the
idea that Irish electors, who in common with the rest
of the United Kingdom send representatives to Westminster,
should glow with gratitude when the Parliament of
the United Kingdom so far performs its duty as to enact
laws from which Ireland derives benefit No one suggests
that Englishmen or Scotchmen should feel grateful
either to Parliament or to their Irish fellow-citizens
for the maintenance of good government throughout
England and Scotland. And it would puzzle the
wit of man to show why one-third of the United Kingdom
should be expected to entertain feelings never demanded
from the other two-thirds thereof.
[Sidenote: 2. Too much reference to interest.]
Second objection.—The habitual reference
made throughout these pages to national interest as
the test or standard of national policy has (it may
be suggested) a touch of sordidness and selfishness,
and implies that statesmanship has nothing to do with
morality.
This impression may it is possible be conveyed to
a careless reader by the form in which the case against
Home Rule is stated; but no suggestion can in reality
be more unfounded. It will be seen to be unfounded
by any one who notes for a moment the meaning of the
term “interest” as applied to matters
of national policy. The interest or the welfare
of a nation comprises many things which have nothing
to do with trade or with wealth, and the value of
which does not admit of being measured in money.
The interest, welfare, or prosperity of England includes
the maintenance of her honour, the performance of all
her obligations, and, above all, the strict discharge
of every engagement which she has undertaken towards