The author ventures to predict, with due diffidence, that, however liberal this constitution may appear, it will not satisfy local requirements—it grants too much or it gives too little. The next demand will be for the governor to be invested with the full powers residing in the heads of British colonies, supported by a local ministry, the latter virtually independent of the Home Colonial Minister. Denmark is, perhaps, not yet sufficiently advanced in political education to grant the gift; yet the experiment is worth trying. If the demand be rejected, the persuasion that Iceland has never thriven since Icelanders lost their privilege of self-rule will steadily increase, and probably attain abnormal dimensions. A school of politics has now been opened to the people, and the new study will produce special students. Irrepressible malcontents, intransigentes, and irreconcilables, who have trodden the path of separation, are never easily brought back to the sleepy old highway of routine rule; and the constitution has provided them with many grievances, especially the doubts cast upon Icelandic loyalty and good faith. There are not a few European revolutionists who, urgent for the general derangement of affairs, will hardly disdain to “keep their hands in,” even so far north. An Icelander in England flatly contradicted the assertion that a republican or separatist feeling exists in Iceland.[148] The “great public meeting” of 1873 expressed the latter, and what could a separated Iceland be or become except a republic? Not only “subversive philanthropists” but well-meaning and patriotic men will find subjection to a foreign secretary and a foreign governor intolerable when they wish to manage themselves. The “little bill” will still be a strong lever for raising popular passions. In the days when Ireland continues to “write and speak of ‘98,” when Norway “strikes” as heavily as Great Britain, and when the Socialists breed troubles in Denmark where the International has been interdicted by the courts of justice, as a branch of the English society, the Icelandic Home Ruler is not likely to sit still—perhaps it is not desirable that he should.

Since the unhappy Dano-Prussian war we have heard little of Scandinavia in England, and we are apt to conclude that the Pan-Scandinavian idea is dead. It is not dead but sleeping; and while Pan-Slavism affects to slumber that it may gather vis and energy for decisive movements when the time for action comes, we still live in hopes of seeing a federal union of the great northern kingdoms, and to find Iceland taking her place as a minor but not an undistinguished member of the family. Scandinavian liberty, says Montesquieu, est la mère des libertés de l’Europe, and her free-born children have not lost and will never lose respect for the parent.

Note To Section III.

Since these lines were written, Christian IX., the first crowned head that ever sighted her shores, has visited Iceland upon the well-chosen occasion of her millenary festival. The courteous and parental bearing of the king has made its due impression. The lieges have taken a sensible view of the situation; they spoke in a conciliatory spirit, and satisfaction with the change from the former state of things seems to have been general. Even the anti-government party is thankful for what it has won, and hopes in course of time to win what it wants. “This is a good beginning,” said a prominent member, “and, since we have got legislative powers, it is our own fault if we cannot get more.”

The following statement was sent to me by Mr Jón A. Hjaltalín, who is responsible for his assertions. The paper thoroughly expresses the Icelanders’ view of their financial relations with the Danish Government:

“The budget of Iceland for 1867-68 was:

Revenue. Expenditure.
$48,345 21 sk. $79,682 56 sk.
1868-69.
$44,675 21 sk. $63,929 8 sk.
1869-70.
$51,222 21 sk. $77,361 24 sk.
1870-71.
$44,787 21 sk. $65,865 72 sk.

“This is the Danish statement of the annual budget for Iceland. Consequently it has been commonly said by Danes and travellers who have not been able to dive below the surface, that Iceland was the receiver of Danish bounty to the tune of something like $30,000 annually. It was, however, acknowledged by the Danish Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1845 that such was not the case, for in his report he said: ‘It is perhaps doubtful whether we really contribute anything towards the support of Iceland.... It is true, certainly, that an annual sum is paid to the Icelandic treasury.... This payment cannot, however, properly be called a subsidy, because the whole of the Icelandic revenues has not been paid into the Icelandic treasury (but into the Danish treasury).... The Icelandic treasury has also disbursed several sums (at the command of the Danish Government), which cannot be set down as expenses for Iceland.’ This is the gist of the whole dispute. Sums are not entered on the credit side of the Icelandic budget which Iceland has really paid into the Danish treasury. Thus an annual deficit is easily made out.

“Down to the middle of the last century the accounts of Iceland were kept clear and separate from those of Denmark. Then the Icelandic budget showed an annual surplus which found its way into the Danish treasury. After that date, the accounts of both were mixed up together, and for three quarters of a century (till 1825) the annual revenue and expenditure of Iceland cannot be properly ascertained. It is, however, known that several large sums, above the annual revenues of the island, were paid into the Danish treasury during this period. On the other hand, it cannot be shown that the annual expenses had risen above the former yearly average. When a separate account was again opened with Iceland, no notice was taken of the extraordinary sums paid into the Danish treasury on behalf of Iceland.

“To show the reader the chief items of the Icelandic budget, we will take the budget for 1870-71: