Yet I am struck with two things. In the first place, I never heard the English administration blamed for excessive centralisation before to-day. I always thought that, on the contrary, its chief failures were due to excessive decentralisation. But in return I quite believe it to be, if not venal, at all events very expensive. In England everything is made an excuse for a fee, a word which means emolument, but which also slightly conveys the sense of “tip.” Amongst us, officials are absolutely prohibited from accepting anything whatever from the public. In England it is quite understood that, besides their salaries—which are very handsome—it is even legal that officials should claim remuneration for services, which, according to our notions, should be quite gratuitous.
This remark even applies to officers! Some years ago I saw the captain of an English merchant vessel come on board a French man-of-war, and ask permission to compare their chronometers with ours. The officer in charge of the watch hastened to render him this small service, and was quite astonished when, after the examination was over, the Englishman gravely handed him a sovereign, whilst the Englishman appeared still more surprised when the Frenchman refused the money rather hastily. It seems that English officers consider gratuities are perfectly legitimate.
Another instance happened at Shanghai. The Taïping army menaced the city. The bankers fearing a night attack asked the French and English captains to take charge of their cash on board in order that it might be safe; a favour that was at once granted. Only, when after some days all danger was past and the bankers sent for their money, those who had confided it to the English men-of-war were quite surprised to receive with it a rather heavy bill.
There is neither robbery nor even indelicacy in all this, for it is quite openly done. Still a French officer who acted in this way would be boycotted by his comrades and brought before a court-martial by his minister. I only quote these incidents to show how much the English views upon many points differ from our own, and to explain how with such a well-established system of fees the smallest step may become onerous.
However, to return to the Lord Mayor’s business; it seems to me preposterous that 9,000l. should have to be expended before permission to spend another 21,000l. can be obtained. With us, this permission would be only too easily granted gratuitously, particularly if it referred to the formation of an Academic group. It is certain, that if the Irish must give 9,000l. to barristers, it would be better, for the welfare of their country, that this substantial windfall should fill Irish pockets instead of benefiting English counsel as it now does; and the Irish expect to attain this result by having a Parliament of their own at Dublin. But why should it be necessary to spend 9,000l.? It seems to me, that by changing the method of procedure, by making it resemble ours, for instance, economy could be easily secured. The Lord Mayor’s argument proves that there are reforms to be made, and this no one denies; but they do not prove that in order to make these reforms it is indispensable to go as far as separation.
“Ce n’était pas la peine,
Non, pas la peine assurément,
De changer de gouvernement,”
says worthy Madame Angot, who was certainly no fool.
Whilst making these reflections in petto, I took leave of his lordship, who is more perfect than good King Henry himself, for, according to the old song, he had only three accomplishments, whilst the Freeman’s Journal unhesitatingly attributes four to Mr. Sullivan, since in the article I alluded to just now his position as a “diver” is established, and he is also called the “poet,” “patriot,” and “statesman” several times. He looks a thoroughly honest man, and yet the information that he gave has not explained Home Rule to me.