In the abstract its disestablishment, apart from its disendowment, was a great, a just, and a generous measure; theoretically it was as sound as bimetallism. But its logical issues were incompatible with a united kingdom. They really, on examination, involved that separatist theory of the “right” of “nationalities” to be self-governing, of which he grew so fond. “Nationality” is here a wrong expression, for “nationality” is, by its essence, a term of union, and not of division. It should be “Locality.” What is meant by this assumed “right” is, that particular races or particular provinces, absorbed into or dependent on “nationalities,” are entitled, from the mere fact of their geographical limits, to withdraw from the greater whole of which they are portions. This theory would revive the Heptarchy. It would make Jersey and Guernsey, or the Isle of Man, it would make Scotland or Wales, a “nation.”
I say that Mr. Gladstone’s measure, introduced when and how it was, and with its double purport, involved these conclusions, because if the mere existence of an “alien Church” justifies the severance of the ties between authority and religion, and the plunder of its revenues for purposes other than that for which they were created, then the same reasoning would not only justify the abolition of an alien and the substitution of a native government, but also a refusal to contribute any revenue to the deposed government at all. There might be occasions demanding such a course. An oppressive Church, a tyrannical government, might well be swept away by a statesman with ears to hear the cries of impatience and eyes to see the ravages of injustice—a true statesman who, as Disraeli said in 1844, would accomplish by statute and conciliation what revolutions necessitate by force.
But this was not one of them. The English Church itself was not practically resented, however its historical existence might be made to rankle in common with the other historical anomalies in Ireland, including its connection with England. The Church itself had been bettered, and might be still more improved. It was alive with opportunities. The Catholics and the Dissenters might, apart from the Establishment, which stood for British authority, be set upon a complete equality, and helped towards usefulness in many directions. The Church itself had proved a valuable educational centre. The Roman clergy called, not for its extinction, but for its disendowment; and rather because they could not bear to think that it was there at all, just as they cannot bear to think that it exists in England, than because they wanted the revenues or suffered under the rebuffs or rivalry of an English Church. It was an argument, as Disraeli put it, that might be paralleled if all those Irish gentlemen who had small estates, but frequented the same society, were to say that their brethren of large estates should surrender their revenues to the State; or if the unendowed hospitals of London were to exact the deprival of the endowments enjoyed by St. Bartholomew’s, St. Thomas’s, and Guy’s, not with the object of themselves sharing them, but out of wanton envy.
Disraeli delivered three main speeches of great power, interest, and length on this subject. I shall not quote them in words, but shall only endeavour to present their pith.
As regards the Disestablishment.
He objected to it on principle—the principles outlined in my second chapter. The union of Church and State is a symbol of the Divine nature of government, which is the only truth underlying the obsolete fiction of the “Divine Right of Kings.” He objected to it on policy. Divorce the religious principle from that of government, and it is the State that will suffer most. The result must be disorder. One day that might take a peculiar form. The political power once separated from the spiritual, a crisis might arise where the two might collide; and where, though the political power might be right, the spiritual would appeal in haste to both passion and prejudice.
As regards the Disendowment.
He objected to it on principle. The plunder of public corporations was nothing new, but where the trust for which the corporation had been endowed was not observed in the application of the spoil by the State, which was a trustee, it was indefensible. It became confiscation. “Irish purposes” were vaguely hinted as the destination, but the repeal of the whisky duty might be an “Irish purpose;” and where was the sense of dedicating some of this annexed property to Irish pauper lunatics? Moreover, historically, he had always noticed that the spoil of the Church went eventually to enrich the large landed proprietors.
He objected to it on policy. One of the causes of discontent was alleged to be that a particular Church was not connected with the State. Mr. Gladstone proposed to regenerate the country by having three Churches not connected with the State. Discontent, however, would still remain smouldering, and Disraeli prophesied that its next phase would threaten the tenure of land. What would be the effect in this relation of having three Churches disconnected from the State? The land question would, he predicted, assume many threatening forms with one purpose—a purpose against the rights and the duties of property. One Church was to be deprived of property which none of the others claimed. Three sets of clergy were to be equally apart from the State. A class in the first place, therefore, and that a class of resident proprietors, was to be destroyed; when it was agreed that one of the evils in Ireland was the want of a variety of classes and of resident proprietors. In the second, one of the avowed evils, the curse of Ireland, was poverty; but here was an Act to confiscate property, and that property in its nature popular—the appanage of the people.
When the land question should arise, there might ensue a triple danger, that of three sets of clergy divided in theology and matters of discipline, but united in discontent; and the three might eventually demand the restoration of the national property; and if it were refused, there might be revolution. England could afford no more revolutions. But, in any case, the spoliation of the Protestant clergy would breed jealousies among themselves also; for they were actually invited and induced (by means which he exposed) to co-operate in their own expropriation. The plunder of the Catholic clergy had bred great discontent. The plunder of the Protestant clergy would do the same. And if discontent were left to grow as it went, the land outcry would produce others, and they again others in their turn and train. There would be no rest, no finality. It would be discontent without end.