THE VACILLATIONS OF THE GOVERNMENT.
THE impression that this Government is at least a resolute Government is rapidly fading away. Doubtless, it has done three or four very audacious things. The purchase of the Suez-Canal Shares on the sole responsibility of the Govern- ment,—the ordering of Indian troops to Malta,—the signing of the Secret Treaty with Turkey, as to the guarantee of her Asiatic possessions,—the seizure of Cyprus by one of the con- ditions of that Treaty, as " a strong place-of-arms " for the British Government in the Mediterranean,—and the picking of a deliberate quarrel with Afghanistan,—were all of them audacious acts, and gave the Government a general repute for boldness and resolve. But political resolution is not measured by the audacity of a few great strokes. It is measured by the deliber- ate persistency and energy of purpose with which bold designs are carried out. Now what is remarkable about this Government is that it carries out no design at all,—that after making a splash and dash as to its policy, its purposes dwindle away to nothing, and its grand prospects first become emaciated, and finally, die of consumption. What has come of the pur- chase of the Suez-Canal Shares ? Not what ought to have come of it,—a practical assertion that for Great Britain, Egypt is the critical point of the Eastern Question, and that the protection of our interests in Egypt, and of the Egyptian people's in- tere3ts in Egypt which cannot really be separated from our interest, is the end and aim of our policy ; but a very dangerous subordination of our policy to the Stock-jobbing policy of France, and an attempt to secure the payment of creditors of the Khedive, who are not only not identified with our interests in Egypt, but are identified with the cruel oppres- sion of the Egyptian people, and so with the cause most dia- metrically opposed to our own. And this has been the result not of mistake, but of simple weakness. There is clear evi- dence of France having dragged us into a Stock-jobbing policy, which the British Government had hitherto, in the case of Turkey, steadily repudiated and resisted. Indeed, in the apologetic tone of Sir Stafford Northcote on the sub- ject, whenever it has been debated in the House of Commons, it is as easy as possible to discern the reluc- tant attitude of a feeble Government, doing what it does ...not approve, what it secretly dislikes, because it has not the lucidity and strength of purpose to separate itself definitely from France. The audacious stroke of the purchase of the Suez- Canal Shares has died away into a weak and unsuccessful endeav- our to keep out of those ' stock-jobbing intrigues in Egyptian Bonds into which the British Government has been inveigled by a stronger neighbour. Again, take the audacious stroke which brought a certain number of Indian troops to Malta, as a demonstration against the power of Russia. That was, in its way, a brilliant conception. It threatened the use of our whole power in India to prevent the encroachments of Russia on Turkey. But how was it followed up ? , Were the troops kept for use in Asia Minor or Roumelia ? Was the idle demon- stration followed by practical evidence that the Govern- ment really intended to use the military strength of the Indian Empire for the adjustment of the Turko- Russian dispute ? The troops were sent back almost as soon as they came,—sent back before any one of the professed objects of the British policy had been definitely gained ; before a single step had been taken for the regeneration of Armenia or Asiatic Turkey ; before a single step had been taken for the final re- vindication of Eastern Roumelia for Turkey ; before anything whatever had been done to convince Europe that we could, if we pleased, exert a preponderating influence at Constantinople for the future. The bringing of the Indian troops to Malta and Cyprus was a mere brutunt flame». Except the influence that step may have had on one article in the Treaty of Berlin,— in other words, on securing (nominally) the line of the Balkans for Turkey, for on na other point of any importance did the policy of our Government obtain any success at all, —the ordering of the Indian troops to Malta was a barren act, a threat which was dropped as soon as uttered. When Parliament discussed the policy, it was found that, for the present at least, it was meant to be entirely fruitless, a mere flash in the pan. All that it should have led to, if it had been real,—the use of these troops as a substantial part of our European forces,—the display of them as a part of our re- sources for the joint occupation of Roumelia or for any other work needful for the extension of British, and the counter-action of Slavonic, influence in that part of the world,—was forgotten, if it was ever contemplated. The Indian troops speedily went back whence they came. They made a flourish for the British Government, and nothing more. It was just the same with the Anglo-Turkish Convention, and the taking of Cyprus. The Anglo-Turkish Convention was one of the biggest acts ever conceived by a Government. It took the breath away from everybody at the moment of its disclosure. But it meant absolutely nothing. No money even was to be spent on it. Not a penny was to be lent to Turkey to help her to reform her Administration. Not an Englishman the more will be seen in Asia Minor or Armenia. The whole thing was a farce,—a question of words, words, words,—of despatches, and exhortations and remonstrances and the usual polite re- fusals. No such wind-bag has ever yet been exploded as the Anglo-Turkish Convention. And again, as to Cyprus. The great flourish with which the island was taken is the end of the matter. We are now told that there is no need to hasten, even as to the novel harbour. The roadstead will do as it is, till there has been some more drainage done. All the grand talk about the Naval station has sunk into silence. Cyprus has become a mere St. Helena for Sir Garnet Wolseley, a new spot for our Eastern famines, and a place of experimentation for sewage engineers. Sic transit glories munch*!
And then to what has the grand policy of forcing the Afghans into war with us, and showing them that they are but the earthen pipkin between two iron pots, come• by this time ? Why, it came to a war of invasion ; but the invasion was hardly begun, before the vacillation of the Government began too. Lord Beaconsfield and Sir Stafford Northcote told us some weeks ago that we had gained all our objects ; that the frontier had been rectified, and that nothing remained to be done. But there they were premature. There remained this important necessity—to make peace with the Afghans; to settle how much we would take, what we would give back, how we would keep that which we determined to keep, —and on this subject there has been nothing but shilly-shally for three months back. What we are to do with the mountaineers— whether we are to govern them or bribe them, to subdue them or conciliate them,—whether we are to go to Cabul, in order to over- awe the Afghans, or to stay where we are,—whether we are to advance, whether we are to retreat,—or what we are to do in the very awkward position into which we have got ourselves, —neither the Indian Government nor our own rulers at home profess to know. The Ministers tell us they would like very much to make a statement of their Afghan policy, if they could. But at present they can't,—and for what we suspect to be a very good reason,—that do what they will, they cannot make up their own minds between the various embarrassing alternatives between which they must choose. The audacious stroke of the Afghan war, like all the other audacious strokes, had never been thought out. No one in the Government knew what he wanted, except to make a great splash, and therefore no one in the Government knew how far to go, and where to stop.
But the vacillations of the Government have not been limited to questions of foreign policy. There is hardly a subject of any moment on which they really seem able to make up their mind. Look at the rebuke of Sir Bartle Frere in one breath, and the consolation and encouragement given to him in the next. Look at the delay and hesitation as to what was to be done in relation to Lord Chelmsford. Look at the irresolution in re- lation to the Constitutional difficulty in Victoria. Sir Michael Beach, as far as we can see, never makes up his mind at all till the last moment, and then it is made up for him by some irrelevant accident. Nor is irresolution confined to the Foreign, Indian, and Colonial policy. Even the Local Government Office cannot make up its mind, but dallies with the County Government question in the oddest way, now offering a con- cession to the farmers, now withdrawing it in deference to the feelings of the landowners. But perhaps the most conspicuous illustration of all of the weakness and vacillation of the Government is their finance. As Sir William Harcourt said at Sheffield, Sir Stafford Northcote studied finance in a good school. He was a devotee of the principles of Peel and Gladstone. He began his financial policy with a very strong Jeelaration in favour of a steady reduction of the Debt. Gradually he has faltered, has been seduced into the treacher- ous French system of classifying expenditure into " extra- ordinary " and " ordinary " outgoings, and has at last produced by far the most cowardly and most disingenuous Budget of our day,—a Budget which neither tells the whole truth on the face of its figures, nor asks the country to meet the increased expenditure with increased effort. The policy of the Government is, in fact, one of tawdry audacity, followed by increasing and deepening irresolution. It makes a great flourish now and then which is, or looks, audacious. But even the audacity of these flourishes soon turns out to be in word, and not in deed. And in all depart- ments alike there is plenty of sign of failing nerve, of tardy deliberation, of shrinking from responsibility, of ebbing courage, of degenerating principle. The life of the Government flickers low. It is oozing out at every pore.
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