A wish that British North America should ever be severed from England, or that the Australian colonies should ever be so severed, will by many Englishmen be deemed unpatriotic.  But I think that such severance is to be wished if it be the case that the colonies standing alone would become more prosperous than they are under British rule.  We have before us an example in the United States of the prosperity which has attended such a rupture of old ties.  I will not now contest the point with those who say that the present moment of an American civil war is ill chosen for vaunting that prosperity.  There stand the cities which the people have built, and their power is attested by the world-wide importance of their present contest.  And if the States have so risen since they left their parent’s apron-string, why should not British North America rise as high?  That the time has as yet come for such rising I do not think; but that it will soon come I do most heartily hope.  The making of the railway of which I have spoken, and the amalgamation of the provinces would greatly tend to such an event.  If therefore, England desires to keep these colonies in a state of dependency; if it be more essential to her to maintain her own power with regard to them than to increase their influence; if her main object be to keep the colonies and not to improve the colonies, then I should say that an amalgamation of the Canadas with Nova Scotia and New Brunswick should not be regarded with favor by statesmen in Downing Street.  But if, as I would fain hope, and do partly believe, such ideas of national power as these are now out of vogue with British statesmen, then I think that such an amalgamation should receive all the support which Downing Street can give it.

The United States severed themselves from Great Britain with a great struggle, and after heart-burnings and bloodshed.  Whether Great Britain will ever allow any colony of hers to depart from out of her nest, to secede and start for herself, without any struggle or heart-burnings, with all furtherance for such purpose which an old and powerful country can give to a new nationality then first taking its own place in the world’s arena, is a problem yet to be solved.  There is, I think, no more beautiful sight than that of a mother, still in all the glory of womanhood, preparing the wedding trousseau for her daughter.  The child hitherto has been obedient and submissive.  She has been one of a household in which she has held no command.  She has sat at table as a child, fitting herself in all things to the behests of others.  But the day of her power and her glory, and also of her cares and solicitude, is at hand.  She is to go forth, and do as she best may in the world under that teaching which her old home has given her.  The hour of separation has come; and the mother, smiling through her tears, sends her forth decked with a bounteous hand, and furnished with full stores, so that all may be well with her as she enters on her new duties.  So is it that England should send forth her daughters.  They should not escape from her arms with shrill screams and bleeding wounds, with ill-omened words which live so long, though the speakers of them lie cold in their graves.