Volume 64 — A REVIEW OF THE LAST SESSION. (continued 2)

Smith O’Brien and Meagher, two of the most daring leaders of the faction, were tried at Dublin in the month of May, and escaped, the jury being in neither case unanimous. These trials may be memorable in the history of the jurisprudence of Ireland, for they distinctly prove that the present system of trial is utterly unsuited for that country. Nothing could be clearer than the evidence against both parties. O’Brien had recommended the formation of an Irish brigade in the United States. Meagher’s recommendation was “up with the barricades, and invoke the god of battles.” Yet in the face of this, the jury could not agree upon their verdict. Mitchell was the first person convicted under the new Act. On the 27th of May, he was found guilty, and sentenced to fourteen years’ transportation.

No effort whatever was made, on the part of the populace, to rescue this misguided man. He had proclaimed himself a felon, and he was sent forth to undergo the punishment of his crime. But this example, stringent as it was, had no effect whatever in repressing the spirit of treason. The arming went on rapidly as before, or rather in an augmented ratio. Cargoes of muskets, and other fire-arms, were openly shipped for Dublin, and exposed for sale; their destination and use were openly admitted, and yet ministers did not seem to consider it their duty to interfere! The newspaper war continued. Fresh journals sprang up to replace the United Irishman, and the favourite doctrines of Mitchell were enforced with a ferocity and earnestness almost equal to his own. Clubs, after the fashion of those in Paris, were organised throughout the country: drilling began, and at length rebellion assumed a tangible shape, the confederate forces having been reviewed by Smith O’Brien at Cork. On the 21st of July, Dublin was proclaimed by the Lord Lieutenant; and immediately thereafter, and not a moment too soon, ministry were compelled to suspend the Habeas Corpus Act in Ireland.

As we are not writing a history of this most abortive rebellion, we need not follow its leaders throughout their ignominious, and even cowardly career. That a bubble, deemed so gigantic, should have burst with so miraculously small an explosion, may hereafter be a source of wonder to the chronicler; at present our only feeling should be gratitude to the Almighty that this affair has as yet been accompanied with so little loss of human life. So far, it is well; but it would be absolute madness to suppose that the spirit of rebellion has been extinguished. The Irish people have been guilty of a great crime. A large portion of them are, without any doubt, rebels in their hearts; and they must submit to be treated as such, until we are satisfied that their stubborn disposition is removed. Great credit, it seems, is now given in certain quarters to the Roman Catholic clergy, for the part they took in suppressing the late disturbances; and we anticipate an immediate burst of laudation, and perhaps a promise of reward, in return for their disinterested exertions. If to foster rebellion in every possible manner, whilst there is the least chance of its success, and to preach it down from the very moment when the cause appears obviously desperate, be an acceptable course, we freely admit the claims of the priesthood to the heartfelt gratitude of Britain: upon no other ground whatever can we see a reason for their recognition. Let any man consider seriously and impartially the history and proceedings in Ireland for the last six months, and he cannot fail, we think, to arrive at the conclusion, that clerical connivance is visible in every scene of the drama. Smith O’Brien and Mitchell, being both of them Protestants, may have raised the banner too early, and may have been sacrificed with little scruple; but we repeat, that we have no faith in that interference which comes so very late, and which, without any hyperbole, may be said to have been forced at the point of the bayonet.

As regards ministers, we think their later measures have been taken with a fair regard for the interests of the imperial crown. Much they might have done earlier; but, on the whole, we are not inclined to quarrel with their conduct. Lord John Russell, in the course of late events, has received a more wholesome lesson in the practical science of legislation than was ever vouchsafed him before. His Lordship’s eyes are now, we hope, opened to the fallacy of some of the cherished Whig propositions. He has learned that there are times when a government must have recourse to extraordinary measures, if it is sincere in its wish to maintain the integrity of the crown and the constitution: and that although the liberty of the subject, and the freedom of the press, are undoubtedly most excellent things, and capital toasts at Whig propaganda banquets, neither of them can be allowed to go so far as to achieve a violent revolution. If some slight tinge should be apparent on the cheek of the Premier as he reviews his past career, and reflects on the inconsistency of his former speeches with his present more energetic conduct, we are willing to attribute the blush to the most amiable, and certainly the most honourable of possible motives—the acknowledgment of a cherished error.

But while we accord with satisfaction this meed of praise to ministers, it is impossible to forget that the Whig party, by playing into the hands of O’Connell and his followers, have given a pernicious incentive to the agitation which has ended in the late revolt. There has been far too much coquetting and trafficking with the repealers,—far too little consideration shown for the really loyal and peaceable portion of the Irish people. Is it possible to expect that any credence will be given to the idea that the Whigs are sincere and determined in their opposition to the repeal doctrines, when a high official functionary like Sir William Somerville, Chief Secretary of State for Ireland, is found subscribing to the fund raised for defending the return of Mr Reynolds, the member for Dublin? Is it, we say, decent that a man in the position of the honourable baronet should be allowed to identify not only himself, but the government to which he belongs, with a party so diametrically opposed to the best interests of the British empire? If the Whigs are determined to put down agitation in Ireland—and put down it must be, at whatever cost—let them show their sincerity by dropping all connexion with the agitators. These are not times for truckling—least of all for party purposes and pretension.

If there is an immediate return to the old system of conciliation—if that unhappy country is to be left under the impression that Britain is bound to support her, we may look for another projected rebellion at no very distant period. Ireland must be taught to depend thoroughly upon herself. The wages of idleness must no longer be given her under any circumstances whatever. We are satisfied that the social misery of Ireland proceeds mainly from the injudicious system of eleemosynary support, to which she has been so long accustomed; for nowhere else in the known world is there a land so rich in resources, with a population so utterly improvident. An end also must be put, by the strong arm of power, to agitation of every kind. Jury trial requires remodelment; and we hope that the very first Irish measure which is introduced, will be one for assimilating the system of jury trial in criminal cases there with that which has worked so well and satisfactorily in Scotland. Let fifteen men be impanelled, and let the opinion of the majority be the verdict. This would effectually prevent those allegations about packing, which do certainly detract from the moral weight of such convictions as that of Mitchell: it would strengthen the hands of justice, and be especially useful as a further preventive of crime. The weal or the continued misery of Ireland will depend very much upon the character and complexion of the measures which may be introduced during the next session of Parliament.

The progress of the revolutions abroad has been any thing but peaceful. On the Continent, the treaty of Vienna has become a dead letter—a mere antiquated sheet of parchment, hardly to be appealed to by any of the conflicting powers. War has broken out in more than one point; and though, during the last month, there has been some prospect of compromise, it is in vain to hope that Europe will immediately subside into its former tranquillity. Hitherto, whatever may be said regarding the internal economy of France, that country has manifested no aggressive spirit. Paris, the centre-point of the volcanic eruption, has kept, and may keep for some time, the soldiery in full employment; and we are sincerely of opinion that General Cavaignac, now at the head of affairs in France, has no personal disposition to undertake a war of conquest. But the position of Germany is very peculiar, and her affairs so complicated, that we may justly feel alarm as to the issue.

We shall say little of the experiment, so rashly undertaken by a number of untried constitution craftsmen, for welding together into one indissoluble mass the political existence of the different Teutonic tribes. It is a project which, at first sight, may appear sufficiently imposing; but when we examine it more closely, it seems fraught with insuperable difficulties. To constitute a Regent for all Germany, in whose hands is to be lodged the sovereign administration of affairs, is in fact to dethrone and mediatise the whole of the reigning potentates. It may be freely conceded that a number of the smaller states might be absorbed, and their names removed from the map of Europe, without causing any disturbance of the balance of power; but, with regard to the larger ones, the case is very different. Will Austria, Prussia, Bavaria, and Saxony, submit to surrender their independence? Will the kings allow themselves to be stripped of their authority—of the power to make laws, to proclaim war and peace, and to levy and command their own armies? We do not believe it. Austria may not object at this peculiar juncture, both because she is deeply engaged in war for the recovery of Lombardy, and because the present Regent is a prince of her imperial family. Prussia can hardly be the first to dissent, because her monarch had the credit of originating the idea of German unity, under the illusion that he would be nominated as the head. But unity is not popular in Prussia, any more than it is in Bavaria, and the moment is fast approaching when this bubble also must explode. We might look upon the whole experiment with feelings of pure curiosity, were it not that incipient unity has been signalised by an act of the most flagrant aggression. We allude to the occupation of Schleswig-Holstein by the Germans.

Denmark is one of those small states in which the nationality is of the most invincible kind. Circumscribed in territorial space, the Danish people are possessed of a courage and energy which for centuries has continued undiminished; and the more powerful northern states are bound, if not by treaty, at least by the strongest ties of policy and relationship, to assist their gallant neighbours in maintaining their original position. Russia and Sweden have already declared themselves open allies of Denmark, and resolute to maintain her against the forces of Germany. The disposition of England, and, we are glad to say, of France also, tends towards the same point; and such being the case, we have great hopes that the Germans will not be mad enough to persevere in their unjustifiable course. A war in the north of Europe, in which so many great nations would be engaged, must be a hideous calamity; and Germany, if wise, should be the last country to provoke it. But, as if to complicate matters, the parliament at Frankfort have manifested an intention of embroiling themselves with Holland for one of the ceded duchies.

It is no purpose of ours to speculate upon events, and therefore we leave the Danish question without further comment. It will be extremely gratifying if, after all the demonstration which has been made, and the actual collision between the Danes and the Germans, peace can be re-established without having recourse to the armed interference of a northern confederation; and it would be still more gratifying if this desirable result should be the effect of British mediation. But, looking to the south of Europe, we cannot approve of the policy which Great Britain has since pursued, or the attitude which Lord Palmerston has chosen to assume towards a friendly foreign power.

Our readers will not have forgotten the surprise and suspicion which was excited, about a year ago, by the absence of a cabinet minister, who was understood to be perambulating Italy with a sort of roving commission. The intention may have been friendly, but the fact was both unusual and degrading, and gave rise at the time to a multitude of unpleasant suspicions. Whether Lord Minto travelled in the capacity of constitution-maker for Italy we know not; but if so, as has more than once been broadly alleged, his attempts have been utter failures. We hope it was not by his advice that Charles Albert has done his best to light up the flames of general war by that ungenerous attack upon Austria, which has ended so disastrously for himself. Baffled on every hand—after having sacrificed his army, and squandered his treasure—the King of Sardinia has been driven back into his own country, amidst the execrations of those whom he professedly came to emancipate, and without a hope left of gaining the diadem for which he had perilled so much. The papal constitution at Rome has by no means fulfilled the hopes of the liberal advocates. Pius, lately so popular, is trembling in the Vatican, and the inhabitants of the Eternal City are in as much terror as if Attila were again at its gates. We repeat that we do not know how much share British councils may have had in promoting these untoward events; but this we know, that it would have been far better if Lord Minto had remained at home. For, in the matter of Naples at least, we have chosen to take a direct part, which throws suspicion upon the tendency of our whole negotiations with the Peninsula.

Sicily has chosen to cast off its allegiance to the crown of Naples, and to elect a sovereign of its own. This is strictly a domestic contest, and one in which we had no title whatever to interfere. But mark what has taken place. No sooner was Naples—a country which has also felt the revolutionary shock—quieted by the granting of a constitution, than King Ferdinand, desirous of quelling rebellion in Sicily, is intimidated from sending his squadron for that purpose, by the appearance of a British fleet off his own territory. Against this unjustifiable demonstration the King of Naples has protested, declaring that he will hold any armed interference between himself and his subjects as tantamount to a declaration of war on the part of the British government. Lord Stanley—whose conduct throughout the session, on all questions connected with foreign or colonial affairs, has been pre-eminently distinguished for temperance, rectitude, and ability, and who has exhibited, in a remarkable degree, every qualification requisite for the leader of a great and national party—brought the whole subject before the consideration of the House of Lords: but the explanations given by Lord Lansdowne are not calculated to improve our character for good faith, whilst they may afford a ready apology to other states for any act of aggression whatever. Also, at a later period of the session, Mr D’Israeli, in one of those brilliant speeches for which he is unrivalled, again demanded explanation from the Foreign Secretary, and took occasion to comment, with sarcastic felicity, on the Minto pilgrimage to Rome. We shall presently allude to the reply which Lord Palmerston thought proper to make.

The facts of the case, as admitted by Lord Lansdowne, are shortly these:—Britain was never asked to mediate formally between the conflicting parties. The Sicilians stood in the position of rebels, victorious perhaps on their own soil, but not, on that account, released from an allegiance which had been formally recognised by Europe. They proceeded, as all insurgents do, to debate upon some form of government; and at this point, it seems, the Foreign Office thought fit to use its influence. Lord Palmerston became a party to the discussions of the revolted Sicilians, to the extent at least of advising them to select a monarchical instead of a republican form of government; with an assurance that, in that event, Britain would recognise the prince who might be elected by the people.

This is neither more nor less than a recognition of the right of revolt; and we should like to know upon what principle of the law of nations it can be defended. It is one thing to acknowledge the right of a nation to change the character of its institutions,—as for example, in the case of France, which from a monarchy has become a republic. Were we to undergo the same organic change, France, doubtless, would recognise us, and continue the same relations with us under the altered form of government. But what if France had chosen to espouse the cause of the Irish confederates? What if—supposing our troops had been defeated by a general rising, and Smith O’Brien had been proclaimed not only King of Munster, but of Ireland—General Cavaignac should have assured the rebels, that he would recognise the descendant of Brian Boru as the prince elected by the people? Would not that negotiation, that assurance, be treated by England as an open declaration of hostility,—an interference which no circumstances could palliate, and for which no explanation could suffice? We apprehend there can be no difficulty in answering the question, and yet our position with regard to Naples was precisely similar.

No official recognition of the independence of Sicily has as yet taken place. Her Britannic Majesty has accredited no ambassador to that court, nor does she know any thing more of the King of Sicily than her royal predecessor did of Theodore King of Corsica. In all Sicilian matters, as yet, this country nominally recognises the supremacy of King Ferdinand, who has in no way incurred a forfeiture. Yet at the very moment when that potentate has completed his preparations for coercing his rebel subjects, a British fleet appears off his shores, and no explanation has been vouchsafed of the reasons which have brought it there.

In answer to Lord Malmesbury, who reiterated the question originally put by Lord Stanley, “Is the fleet of Admiral Parker to interfere with any expedition which his Neapolitan Majesty may send against his subjects in Sicily?” Lord Lansdowne distinctly refused explanation. So did Lord Palmerston in answer to Mr D’Israeli; and he further added, “that it is not the practice of the government of this country to announce to parliament what the intentions of the government are.” All that we shall say upon that point is, that, even during the present session of parliament, ministers have more than once been particularly eager to parade their intentions, without even the formality of a question. Such answers are very apt to make distrustful people recollect that Naples is but a small state, and not so formidable as some others which have led the van of revolution. But even supposing that the Whig government are not prepared to go the length of violating treaties, and breaking alliances by a direct and forcible interference, this concealment is peculiarly unwise at a moment when neutrality is of the last importance. Apart from this question of Sicilian interference, no one wants to know why Admiral Parker’s fleet is there. It is not alone Lord Stanley or Mr D’Israeli whose curiosity requires to be gratified. The King of Naples believes this armament is sent with intentions hostile to him, and he has a right to know whether Britain proposes to throw an impediment betwixt him and his revolted dominions. Are ministers aware of the effect which such ambiguous answers may have upon the future policy of France? General Oudinot, we know, is at the head of a large army on the southern frontier of France, and Charles Albert has notoriously solicited assistance from that quarter. What if the French, drawing their own deduction from the fact of the fleet being there, and all explanation refused, should choose to assume that we have exceeded the bounds of neutrality, and are now coercing the King of Naples?—what if they should march an army to the support of the Piedmontese, again make Lombardy a field of battle, and throw all Europe into irretrievable confusion, by engaging in hostilities with Austria? Is that contingency so remote that we can afford to indulge in mysteries, and peril the fair fame of England’s open dealing for a paltry Palmerston intrigue?

If we contemplate seriously the whole course of our foreign policy, in so far as regards Italy, we cannot fail to be impressed with the idea that the Whigs have given undue countenance to the late insurrectionary movements. Great Britain might have come forward honourably at the commencement of the Lombardy campaign to stop the effusion of blood and the horrors of war, by the offer of a timely mediation; but no such step was taken. On the contrary, our Cabinet remained quiescent and looked on approvingly, so long as success appeared to favour the Sardinian arms: it is only after the invader has been beaten back, and driven within the frontiers of his own kingdom—after Austria has redeemed by force all her Lombard territory, that Lord Palmerston, and his new ally Cavaignac, have thought fit to tender their good offices. We may safely ask—what good purpose can be achieved by this very late intervention? Who are the parties whose quarrel is to be taken up? Mr D’Israeli put the matter well when he asked,—First, what was to be the principle of this mediation; secondly, what was to be the motive of the mediation; and thirdly, what was the end proposed to be attained by the mediation? The motive, we are assured, is the preservation of peace, and we fully subscribe to its importance; but on all other matters we are left as thoroughly in the dark as ever. Really this mystery is, to say the least of it, tantalising; and we would fain know whether Austria is the party who has taken the initiative, in securing the advice of two peace-makers like Palmerston and Cavaignac. Austria has recovered the possessions guaranteed her by the faith of the leading states of Europe, has put down insurrection, and driven back in rout and terror the invading Sardinian over his own frontier. There remains no body of her revolted subjects in a position to ask for mediation. As for Charles Albert, he is not, we presume, either King of Italy or Lord of Lombardy, neither have we heard of any other claim, save that of sympathy, which could entitle him to enter into the contest. Personally he had no wrong to avenge; but having chosen to espouse the cause of the rebels, and to encounter the risks of war, he is surely not entitled, especially after defeat, to insist upon any conditions. If Austria shall choose, of her own free will and accord, to cede possession of Lombardy, it will be a mere act of grace, which cannot be demanded from her by any state in Europe. But she is clearly entitled to dictate, and not to receive conditions; and any interference with her guaranteed and fully recovered rights, either on the part of England or of France, would be tantamount to a declaration of war.

From first to last, therefore, we condemn the course which has been pursued by the British foreign minister with reference to the affairs of Italy, as undignified, unconstitutional, and mischievous. It has naturally lowered the estimate of our character in the eyes of the Italian people, whose own fondness for intrigue does not prevent them from despising that system, when pursued on the part of a strong and powerful nation. Minto jobbing has proved an utter failure. It may not indeed have been unproductive in results, for it has materially stimulated sedition, but certainly it has not tended to the preservation of peace, or the consolidation of government in Italy.

Lord Palmerston has not been happy for the present year in his foreign relations. Some gratuitous advice to Spain, which he no doubt tendered with the best possible intentions, was ignominiously returned upon his hand; and this affront was followed up by another still more serious, for our ambassador at Madrid was dismissed. Such are the results of constant meddling with the institutions of foreign states, or prying into their domestic arrangements, and of everlastingly tendering unsolicited and unpalatable advice. We do Lord Palmerston the justice to believe, that he is the last man in the world who would brook such conduct at the hands of others. Why then will he persist in acting the part of Mentor to all the states of Europe, at the risk of attracting insult to himself, and of materially endangering the character and position of his country?

Whether we regard the conduct of the present ministry at home or abroad, in domestic or in foreign relations, we find little to praise, and much which we must conscientiously condemn. Late events do not seem to have conveyed to them any important lesson. Diminished exports, want of reciprocity, and the disorganisation of affairs on the Continent, have effected as yet no change in their commercial policy. They are still determined to persevere in the course which they have unfortunately adopted, and to neglect the home and colonial markets for the desperate chance of pushing exportation further. By delaying to make any provision for the relaxation of the odious Bank Restriction Acts—by placing upon the committee of the House of Commons men whose financial reputation depended upon the maintenance of these measures—they have again exposed the country to a recurrence of that crisis which, in November last, was so near a fatal termination. Who shall answer for it that a fresh drain of bullion will not take place this autumn? If the harvest shall prove deficient, such undoubtedly may be the case, and the mercantile world will be left without the means of accommodation at the moment of its utmost need.

When we look at the long period of tranquillity which this country has enjoyed since the peace—when we reflect upon the extension of trade, the increase of our colonies, the apparent accumulation of wealth at home, the development of industry, and the enormous social improvements which have resulted from the progress of science—it seems almost miraculous that any combination of circumstances should so rapidly have involved us in financial embarrassments. Those embarrassments are marked by the price of money and its fluctuations, by the difficulty of accommodation, by the unprecedented decline in the value of every kind of property, by the amount of unemployed labour in the market, and by the long list of bankruptcies. We ask for an explanation of these phenomena, and we are referred to a failure of the potato crop! The political economists will not acknowledge the share they have had in the production of such lamentable results—but, fortunately, they cannot alter dates; and one thing at least is incontestible, that the commencement of the period of decline corresponds exactly with that of Sir Robert Peel’s fiscal and currency measures. It may have been that we were previously in danger from the want of these, but the country neither knew nor felt it. The change was made, and since then our prospects have been dark and gloomy.

Parliament has utterly failed, during last session, to suggest any remedy for the general distress. It must fail so to do, until it is called together under the auspices of a Cabinet imbued with patriotic principles, aware of the responsibility of their situation, and thoroughly resolved to release themselves from the trammels of a system which has fraud and selfishness for its foundation, and which seeks to aggrandise a few at the sacrifice of the industrious many. May Heaven grant that such men may speedily be called to the supreme councils of the nation, and that this may be the last session, the futilities of which it is our duty to record, under the imbecile and slovenly administration of the Whigs!

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