His final settlement of the question came in 1849, and the introduction of that Rebellion Losses Bill which has been already mentioned. The measure was, in the main, an act of justice to French sufferers from the disturbances created by the Rebellion; for they had naturally shared but slightly in earlier and partial schemes of compensation; and the opposition to the bill was directed quite frankly against the French inhabitants of Canada as traitors, who deserved, not recompense, but punishment. Now there were many cases of real hardship, like that of the inhabitants of St. Benoit, a village which Sir John Colborne had pledged himself to protect when he occupied it for military purposes, but which, in his absence, the loyalist volunteers had set on fire and destroyed. The inhabitants might be disloyal, but in the eyes of an equal justice a wrong had been done, and must be righted. The idea of the bill was not new—it was not Elgin's bill; and if his predecessors had been right, then the French politicians were justified in claiming that the system of compensation already initiated must be followed till all legitimate claims had been met.
It would be disingenuous to deny that Elgin calculated on the pacific influence which his support of the bill would exert in Lower Canada. "I was aware of two facts," he told Grey in 1852: "Firstly, that M. La Fontaine would be unable to retain the support of his countrymen if he failed to introduce a measure of this description; and secondly, that my refusal would be taken by him and his friends as a proof that they had not my confidence." But his chief concern was to hold the balance level, to redress an actual grievance, and to repress the fury of Canadian Tories whose unrestrained action would have flung Canada into a new and complicated struggle of races and parties. "I am firmly convinced," he told Grey in June, speaking of American election movements at this time, "that the only thing which prevented an invasion of Canada was the political contentment prevailing among the French Canadians and Irish Catholics"; and that political contentment was the result of Elgin's action in supporting his ministers. A happy chance, utilized to the full by Elgin's cautious wisdom, had enabled him to do the French what they counted a considerable service; and the rage and disorder of the opposition only played the more surely into the hands of the governor-general, and established, beyond any risk of alteration, French loyalty to him personally.[[29]]
From that day, with trivial intervals or incidents of misunderstanding, the British and the French in Canada have played the political game together. It was in the La Fontaine-Baldwin ministry that the joint action, within the Canadian parties, of the two races had its real beginning; and while the traditions and idiosyncrasies of Quebec were too ingrained and fundamental to admit of modification beyond a certain point, Canadian parliamentary life was henceforth based on the free co-operation of French and English, in a party system which tried to forget the distinction of race. From this time, too, Elgin began to discern the conservative genius of the French people, and to prophesy that, when Baldwin's moderate reforming influence should have been withdrawn, the French would naturally incline to unite with the moderate Conservatives—the combination on which, in actual fact, John A. Macdonald based his long control of power in Canada.
The nationalist question is so intermingled with the constitutional that it is not always easy to separate the two issues. The same qualities which settled the latter difficulty ended also French grievances—saving common-sense which did not refuse to do the obvious thing; bonhomie which understood that a well-mannered people may be wooed from its isolation by a little humouring; a mind resolute to administer to every British subject equal rights; and an austere refusal to let an arrogant and narrow-minded minority claim to itself a kind of oligarchic glory at the expense of citizens who did not belong to the Anglo-Saxon stock.
There is a third aspect of Elgin's work in Canada of wider scope than either of those already mentioned, and one in which his claims to distinction have been almost forgotten—his contribution to the working theory of the British Empire. Elgin was one of those earlier sane imperialists whose achievements it is very easy to forget. It is not too much to say that, when Elgin came to Canada, the future of the British colonial empire was at best gloomy. Politicians at home had placed in front of themselves an awkward dilemma. According to the stiffer Tories, the colonies must be held in with a firm hand—how firm, Stanley had illustrated in his administration of Canada. Yet Tory stiffness produced colonial discontent, and colonial discontent bred very natural doubts at home as to the possibility of holding the colonies by the old methods. On the other hand, there were those, like Cobden, who, while they believed with the Tories that colonial home-rule was certain to result in colonial independence, were nevertheless too loyal to their doctrine of political liberty to resist colonial claims. They looked to an immediate but peaceful dissolution of the empire. It seemed never to strike anyone but a few radicals, like Durham and Buller, that Britons still held British sentiments, even across the seas, and that they desired to combine a continuance of the British connection with the retention of all those popular rights in government which they had possessed at home. A Canadian governor-general, then, had to deal with British Cabinets which alternated between foolish rigour and foolish slackness, and with politicians who reflected little on the responsibilities of empire, when they flung before careless British audiences irresponsible discussions on colonial independence—as if it were an academic subject and not a critical issue.
Elgin had imperial difficulties, all his own, to make his task more complicated. Not only were there French and Irish nationalists ready for agitation, but the United States lay across the southern border; and annexation to that mighty and flourishing republic seemed to many the natural euthanasia of British rule in North America. Peel's sweeping reforms in the tariff had rekindled annexationist talk; for while Lord Stanley's bill of 1843 had attracted all the produce of the west to the St. Lawrence by its grant of preference to the colony, "Peel's bill of 1846 drives the whole of the produce down the New York channels of communication ... ruining at once mill-owners, forwarders and merchants."[[30]] And every petty and personal disappointment, every error in colonial office administration, raised a new group to cry down the British system, and to call for a peaceful junction with the United States.
Elgin had not been long in Canada before he saw one important fact—that the real annexationist feeling had commercial, not political roots. Without diminishing the seriousness of the situation, the discovery made it more susceptible of rational treatment. A colony suffering a severe set-back in trade found the precise remedy it looked for in transference of its allegiance. "The remedy offered them," wrote Elgin, "is perfectly definite and intelligible. They are invited to form part of a community which is neither suffering nor free-trading ... a community, the members of which have been within the last few weeks pouring into their multifarious places of worship, to thank God that they are exempt from the ills which affect other men, from those more especially which affect their despised neighbours, the inhabitants of North America, who have remained faithful to the country which planted them."[[31]] With free-trade in the ascendant, and, to the maturest minds of the time, unanswerably sound in theory, Elgin had to dismiss schemes of British preference from his mind; and, towards the end of his rule, when American policy was irritating Canada, he had even to restrict the scope within which Canadian retaliation might be practised. There could be no imperial Zollverein. But he saw that a measure of reciprocity might give the Canadians all the economic benefits they sought, and yet leave to them the allegiance and the government which, in their hearts, they preferred. The annexationist clamour fell and rose, mounting highest in Montreal, and reaching a crisis in the year of the Rebellion Losses disturbance; but Elgin, while sometimes he grew despondent, always kept his head, and never ceased to hope for the reciprocity which would at once bring back prosperity and still the disloyal murmurs. Once or twice, when the annexationists were at their worst, and when his Tory opponents chose support of that disloyal movement as the means of insulting their governor, he took stern measures for repressing an unnatural evil. "We intend," he wrote in November, 1849, after an annexation meeting at which servants of the State had been present, "to dismiss the militia officers and magistrates who have taken part in these affairs, and to deprive the two Queen's Counsels of their silk gowns." But he relied mainly on the positive side of his policy, and few statesmen have given Canada a more substantial boon than did Elgin when, just before his recall, he went to Washington on that mission which Laurence Oliphant has made classic by his description, and concluded by far the most favourable commercial treaty ever negotiated by Britain with the United States.
There is perhaps a tendency to underestimate the work of his predecessors and assistants in preparing the way, but no one can doubt that it was Elgin's persistence in urging the treaty on the home Cabinet, and his wonderful diplomatic gifts, which ultimately won the day. Oliphant, certainly, had no doubt as to his chief's share in the matter. "He is the most thorough diplomat possible—never loses sight for a moment of his object, and while he is chaffing Yankees, and slapping them on the back, he is systematically pursuing that object";[[32]] and again, "There was concluded in exactly a fortnight a treaty, to negotiate which had taxed the inventive genius of the Foreign Office, and all the conventional methods of diplomacy, for the previous seven years."[[33]]
It was a long, slow process by which Elgin restored the tone of Canadian loyalty. Frenchmen who had dreamed of renouncing allegiance he won by his obvious fairness, and the recognition accorded by him to their leaders. He took the heart out of Irish disaffection by his popular methods and love of liberty. Tory dissentients fell slowly in to heel, as they found their governor no lath painted to look like iron, but very steel. To desponding Montreal merchants his reciprocity treaty yielded naturally all they had expected from a more drastic change. It is true that, owing to untoward circumstances, the treaty lasted only for the limited period prescribed by Elgin; but it tided over an awkward interval of disaffection and disappointment.
He did more, however, than cure definite phases of Canadian disaffection; his influence through Earl Grey told powerfully for a fuller and more optimistic conception of empire. With all its virtues, the bureaucracy of the Colonial Office did not understand the government of colonies such as Canada; and where colonial secretaries had the ability and will, they had not knowledge sufficient to lead them into paths at once democratic and imperial. Even Grey relapsed on occasion from the optimism which empire demands of its statesmen. It was not simply that he emphasized the wrong points—military and diplomatic issues, which in Canada were minor and even negligible matters; but at times he seemed prepared to believe that the days of the connection were numbered.[[34]]