Another practical aspect of the question naturally appeals strongly to many minds. We are the most strenuous working race of the world, and the problems of labour fill a large place in our thoughts of the present and the future. Not only to hold our own in the keen competition going on with the rest of the world in both manufacture and the production of raw material, but also to reach the higher ideal formed of the life possible for a working man, we seek to make as light as may be the burdens which industry must necessarily bear. In all countries no small portion of these are such as are imposed by the needs of national organization—burdens which no country has ever yet escaped, or ever will. In national unity we may have all the advantages and resources of co-operation utilized to this end on a vast scale; one diplomatic and consular service; one fleet instead of several; ports and docks defended at the common expense for the good of all. Under any well-considered scheme it is certain, so far as defence is concerned, that all parts of the Empire would secure {45} a maximum of protection at a minimum of cost, and the same would hold good in regard to other forms of necessary national expense. A nation economizing expenditure in these directions could enlarge it for objects which tended to the common good, and brought advantages within the reach of the masses, cheap postage, cheap telegraphy, cheap transit of every kind. Combinations undertaken for ends such as these could have no savour of an aggressive Imperialism.
To provide for the safety of industry is not Jingoism. Richard Cobden was not under a Jingo influence when he said that he would willingly vote £100,000,000 for the Navy rather than see it unable to fulfil its task of giving security to British commerce. His was rather the expression of strong English common sense, which faces facts and the actual conditions of life. Lord Rosebery is not a Jingo when he suggests that British people can best secure peace by 'preponderance.' The strength of a United Empire would be no more than equal to the increasing tasks which are laid upon it. The fear that Federation with the strength which it gave would make British people the bullies of the world appears absurd. If we have powerful athletic sons we do not cut their muscles or reduce their physique lest they should use their splendid strength to injury of their neighbours; rather do we train them to use it in noble ways—to be foremost in toil, to help the oppressed, to defend the defenceless, to be the strong arbiter between contentious disputants. So with the nation. Doubtless vast {46} strength, without an adequate controlling moral force, has in it a temptation and a danger. But surely the remedy lies in deepening the moral sense, not in limiting or diminishing the material strength of the nation.
To the Christian, the moralist, the philanthropist, no inspiration could be greater than that which might well spring from observing the growing strength of the Empire, and from reflection that this immense energy might be turned in directions which would make for the world's good. And strength beyond all other nations British people must have if they are to face in its fulness the work they have to do. As the outcome of that intense life which has specially characterized the last two hundred years they find themselves front to front with the whole world on every great sphere of action or field of responsibility. They have to face and boldly play their part in the large and complex problems of European politics, when the might of enormous armies stands ready to enforce the decisions of an alliance or the will of a despot. Commerce, extending to the remotest islands or penetrating to the heart of uncivilized continents, makes almost co-extensive with the globe those ordinary interests of British people which require protection. Three hundred millions of mankind, who do not share British blood, of various races and in various climes, acknowledge British sway, and look to it for guidance and protection; their hopes of civilization and social elevation depending {47} upon the justice with which it is exercised, while anarchy awaits them should that rule be removed. Through commerce and widespread territories the nation is brought into constant intercourse and often into the most delicate relations with almost every savage race on the globe, thus standing almost alone of European nations on that border-land where civilization confronts barbarism, of all positions in which a nation can be placed perhaps the one most weighted with responsibilities and most pregnant with possibilities of good and evil. To this position the world's history offers no parallel; beside it Rome's range of influence sinks into comparative insignificance.
But to understand all that it means we must remember that along with this mighty growth of power there has been a steady growth of a public conscience, which holds itself responsible not only for national acts, but for national influence; which refuses to shut its eyes to abuse of power, but rather looks upon power as a sacred trust, to be used for worthy ends. Therein lies the justification of our national greatness, and of the wish that it should be maintained.
'We sailed wherever ship can sail,
We founded many a noble state;—
Pray God our greatness may not fail
Through craven fear of being great.'
This is the poet's thought and prayer. May it not rightly be the thought and prayer of every British citizen? We have assumed vast responsibilities in the {48} government of weak and alien races, responsibilities which cannot now be thrown off without a loss of national honour, and without infinite harm to those under our rule. A nation which has leaning upon it an Indian population of nearly 300,000,000 over and above the native races of Australasia, South Africa, and many minor regions, must require, if stability and equilibrium are to be maintained, an immense weight of that trained, intelligent, and conscientious citizenship which is the backbone of national strength. It needs to concentrate its moral as well as its political strength for the work it has to do.
If we really have faith in our own social and Christian progress as a nation; if we believe that our race, on the whole, and in spite of many failures, can be trusted better than others, to use power with moderation, self-restraint, and a deep sense of moral responsibility; if we believe that the wide area of our possessions may be made a solid factor in the world's politics, which will always throw the weight of its influence on the side of a righteous peace, then it cannot be inconsistent with devotion to all the highest interests of humanity to wish and strive for a consolidation of British power. It is because I believe that in all the noblest and truest among British people there is this strong faith in our national integrity, and in the greatness of the moral work our race has yet to do, that I anticipate that the whole weight of Christian and philanthropic sentiment will ultimately be thrown on the side of national unity, as opening {49} up the widest possible career of usefulness for us in the future; inasmuch as it will give us the security which is necessary for working out our great national purposes.
The praises of the Federal system of the United States are much dwelt upon now that it has been justified by triumphing over the difficulties and dangers of a century. It seems the natural and easy outgrowth of the circumstances in which the original colonies found themselves at the close of the Revolution. The conditions under which it was created and exists are pointed out as ideally favourable for national unity on a federal basis—contiguity, common interest, sentiment based on a common history, and other facts and considerations of a parallel kind.
Far different from this did the task of framing the Federal Constitution seem to those who had it in hand. It has been described by Mr. Bryce as 'a work which seemed repeatedly on the point of breaking down, so great were the difficulties encountered from the divergent sentiments and interests of the different parts of the country, as well as of the larger and smaller states.' The same writer adds: 'The Convention had not only to create de novo, on the most slender basis of pre-existing institutions, a national government for a widely scattered people, but they had in doing so to respect the fears and jealousies and apparently irreconcileable interests of thirteen separate commonwealths, to all of whose governments it was necessary to leave a sphere of {50} action wide enough to satisfy a deep-rooted sentiment, yet not so wide as to imperil national unity.'
Yet once more we read of difficulties curiously like those which are urged as making British unity impossible now. 'Their geographical position made communication very difficult. The sea was stormy in winter, the roads were bad, it took as long to travel by land from Charleston to Boston as to cross the ocean to Europe, nor was the journey less dangerous. The wealth of some states consisted in slaves; of others in shipping; while in others there was a population of small farmers, characteristically attached to old habits. Manufactures had hardly begun to exist. The sentiment of local independence showed itself in intense suspicion of any external authority; and most parts of the country were so thinly peopled that the inhabitants had lived practically without any government, and thought that in creating one they would be forging fetters for themselves.'