whether the colonies have at present the right to demand such an option. True, the acts of constitution seem to lead to future independence; true, such an idea was in a measure present in the minds of their framers; and true moreover that it has been offensively pressed on the colonies by the doubts freely expressed as to whether they are sources of strength or weakness to the Empire. But, on the other hand, property is property, and the right to it ought not to be prejudiced by inexact and inferential obligations. The designs of a political school, and the quiet success with which such designs have been worked out, cannot be held to bind or commit those who have not been a party to them. The property of the sovereign in the dependencies of the Empire should be more firmly asserted in consequence of any doubts thrown upon it. To give to the colonies this option would in itself be an admission of a right to which, notwithstanding they have been deceived, they can scarcely be said to be entitled. But there is a limit to all things, and if they are too long allowed to remain under a false impression, something of a right must grow up.

If the union is to continue only so long as both the colonies and the mother country are contented with it, if the mother country or any colony at any time can end the connection, then it is impossible that the union can be more than temporary. The time must come when one side or another will see, or think it sees, an advantage in separation. The doctrine that the union should depend for its continuance upon the pleasure of either party to it affords a comfortable excuse for inaction. Meanwhile it serves the purpose of those statesmen who strongly desire to see the colonies abandoned, and do their best in various ways to promote that end without declaring their purpose, without the knowledge of their sovereign or the support of their country. There is no more disagreeable phase of existence than that of a feeling that a quiet but powerful movement is being exerted in a direction contrary to one's wishes, but with such concealment and denial that it is nearly impossible to rouse others to the sense that a counteracting movement is necessary. Like the Italian dungeon that slowly contracted round its inmate till it crushed him to death, but the diminishing volume of which it was difficult to perceive, so are many subjects crushed into unwelcome shape by a force unapparent in its action until the effect approaches completion. A union, lasting only as long as all parties to it please, means a union open to be insidiously undermined by opponents, means one liable to be broken by innumerable accidents, means one which even its friends assist to destroy, for in contemplating the contingency of its future disturbance they shape their course to meet that consequence. If the union is desirable, it should not be open to question. The institutions, the policy, the legislation, the habits and the thoughts of the people should grow round and

about it till the unity of the Empire becomes embodied in the inmost affections and traditions of the nation.

It will be very suggestive to consider what are the prevailing ideas concerning the colonies entertained in the mother country. It would be idle to pretend to determine with even approximate accuracy the numerical strength of the supporters of the various views. But the attempt to do so will have its use; for the proportions can be guessed with sufficient exactness to lead to the conclusion that the present position of public thought upon the subject is eminently unsatisfactory. Probably two-fifths of the population of the United Kingdom have friends or relations in one or more of the colonies. Inasmuch as these two-fifths comprise in great measure the adult population, it is a larger proportion of the thinking population than at the first glance appears. But only a small number of those who have friends or relations in the colonies have an accurate knowledge of more than one colony. Even the particular colony to which their connections belong is often known to them but slightly. A substantial knowledge of the colonies is mainly confined to those who have resided in them, or who have political or business relations with them. But interest in the colonies is not confined to those who have a knowledge of them. A very large proportion of the adult working classes hold the colonies in high, though mystical, veneration. The colonies, to them, are places where, if they ever resolve to leave their native towns or villages, they may find all the comforts denied to them at home. They think of the colonies as lands of plenty—as lands where the labouring man is held in high estimation—as lands where a career is open to him, where he can become an employer instead of a servant, above all where he can become an owner of land, and where his children will be well educated and have great positions within their reach. For the higher classes the colonies have less attraction. To them, the colonies are lands in which it may or may not be desirable to try to make money. Some emigrate with the hope of bettering their positions, but hoping also to return to the mother country, although it is commonly the case that they remain there by preference after they have earned the means to live at home. A great many who never visit the colonies try to make money through their business connections with them.

But, whatever may be the feelings entertained concerning the colonies themselves, the minds of the vast mass of the people are quite colourless on the question of the relations between the mother country and the colonies. They recollect that disintegration was talked of some years since, and are under the impression that it was abandoned on account of its unpopularity. They think it was a freak of a small body of politicians, and that it was finally disposed of by the Conservative reaction. They are less disposed to struggle about it now than they were seven years ago, when the question was

more before them. They have no knowledge of the changes constitutional government has worked in the colonies. If they were questioned on the subject, they would probably say England is essentially a colonising country, and they suppose will continue to hold her dependencies. Why should she give them up? If she could afford them before steam and electricity made communication easy, why should she now get rid of them? Even of those who most prize the colonies, few will look upon the subject as pressing. Of those who really do consider the question, and with whom therefore its practical decision rests, a powerful section believes that it would be well, both for the mother country and the colonies, that the connection should be severed. They think that to propose the severance would be unpopular, but that, if the matter be left alone, the result will work itself out. A much larger section shares the belief as to what the result will be, without desiring it. They look upon the matter as decided, and they think it only a question of time when these young nations will declare themselves. The zealous longers for separation, and those who believe it must come whether they like it or not, compose nearly all of those who have thought about the question. There remain a few very ardent men who long for confederation, who believe it to be possible, but who hesitate to commit themselves to the course which must be taken when it is desired to initiate a great political crusade. They are not wanting in earnestness. It may be they are not agreed as to what is to be done; and it is useless to preach a theory without indicating the practice that should flow from it.

The case here presented is less hopeless for confederation than at first sight might appear. If the vast body of the people, whose minds are now colourless on the question, are favourably predisposed to retaining the colonies, there is good material to work on if the case be vigorously taken up. Given those who are willing to become advocates of the cause, they will find multitudes ready to follow them; and large as their object is, they may reduce it to the simple proposition that it is the duty of the mother country to declare that she holds, and will hold, the colonies as part of her territories-that throughout the Empire the people must grow up in that belief, and must shape their legislation, their institutions, and their aspirations accordingly.

The question of whether confederation is desirable is another way of asking if it is desirable to retain the colonies. But although the declaration of the unity of the Empire must pave the way to confederation, it is not to be supposed that the work of confederation will end with such declaration. When once the unity is declared, a serviceable machinery must follow for giving to the colonies a share in the government of the Empire proportioned to their importance. What might have been without the constitutions the colonies enjoy it is useless now to consider. They have been made in large measure

self-governing communities; and if they are not to be independent, they must have, as an alternative, a share in the government of the country.

In considering, from an imperial point of view, the policy of retaining the colonies, let us ask ourselves what positions the colonies fill, and of what consist their charms and counter-charms. It has already been said that to the great mass of the people of this country the colonies have an engrossing and peculiar fascination. It is not to be supposed that this arises from a conviction or impression that they are better governed than the mother country. The colonies have not the leisured classes that really govern the United Kingdom. The masses generally are not inclined to undervalue the ability and unselfishness of the leisured classes. To those whose very existence depends on daily toil, the charm of a life to which all toil is unnecessary assumes an exaggerated character. The spectacle, then, is most forcible which constantly meets the view of the workers by compulsion-the spectacle of work, hard, absorbing, laborious work, performed by those who, but for ambition, a love of doing good, and an innate sense of the noblesse oblige, might lead lives of Epicurean ease. This voluntary hard work is not confined to those holding positions of conspicuous power. The willingness to labour, the desire to do good, the determined mastery of special knowledge for purposes of philanthropy, the devotion of time and means, and the subordination of ordinary engagements to the pursuit of many varied objects, are sufficiently common to make the bulk of the people think they are not unfortunate in the classes which mainly wield the governing power. It would be an injustice to the discernment of the people to suppose that they are of opinion that amidst the absorbing pursuit in the colonies of pecuniary gain abler governing men are to be found. They may be pleased at the idea that the government of the colonies is more generally distributed amongst all classes of the population, but they do not feel that therefore that government is abler. It is the space, the unoccupied room, that the colonies enjoy, which speaks to the hard-worked denizens of a densely populated country. Next to Belgium, England, in proportion to its area, is the most heavily populated country in the world. It has a population per square mile nearly double that of India and Japan, and more than three and a half times that of the Chinese Empire. Taking Great Britain and Ireland together, the population per square mile, though much less than that of England and Wales alone, exceeds very much the population per square mile of any country in the world excepting Belgium. Can it be wondered at that the colonies have such charms to those who most suffer from the crowding? The colonies are the safety-valves of the poorer classes, and the affection which they feel for them is to be justified by logical considerations. Recent developments, which point to the permanent loss of foreign markets for many

different articles of British manufacture, have increased the hardships of the crowded state of the country, and much enlarged the desire to seek new homes in the colonies. Of course this desire is controlled by the cost of emigration. It is the fashion to speak of the vast improvement in the condition of the labouring classes. In instituting a comparison between the then and now, no consideration seems to be given to the growth of new wants. If a similar comparison were to be made between the past and present conditions of the middle classes and of the upper classes, it would be recognised that so many new necessities had become inseparable from their lives that the requirements which sufficed for their predecessors would be insufferably insufficient for them. The lower classes are amenable to the same argument. For them also new necessities and wants have arisen, as sternly demanded for their comfort as were the recognised wants of bygone times. As man continues to live, his wants increase with the improved knowledge of how to supply them. The denial of the new wants inflicts as much hardship as the denial of the old. A great deal of the so-called improvement in the condition of the working classes has to be qualified by the consideration of the demands necessary to insure the same amount of comfort and happiness. If an abstract standard could be set up, we might compare the condition of the working classes now with that of the early inhabitants of the country, who found in the woods and forests a larder and wardrobe, with which they were satisfied till they learned to require something better.

The dread of the producing power and the population of the mother country being reduced is unreasonable, if the subjects of the nation, their wealth, industries, and resources are merely transferred from one part of the Empire to another. It is otherwise if the mother country has no external possessions, and the wealth and population that she loses pass to other countries, making them proportionally more and her less powerful.

The landed proprietors are generally supposed to feel little interest in the colonies, and to be opposed to emigration to them. At first sight such a feeling seems natural, but on reflection its shortsightedness is apparent. The emigration of agricultural labourers may, it is true, raise the rate of agricultural labour, or, perhaps it is more correct to say, prevent it from falling. The landed proprietors, again, are not likely to be swayed by those sentiments of personal liking for the colonies so deeply sunk in the minds of the working classes. A colony may become the home of the working man and his family. The landed proprietor does not look forward to anything of the kind. Even if some junior members of his family go to the colonies, their ambition in commencing is to make enough money to be able to live at home, although frequently, as has been said, a residence in the colonies changes this feeling to