There is a good deal to be said for the assertion that after the rebellion of 1798 the continuance of the experiment of 1782 was a source of danger to Great Britain in her life and death struggle with France. But there is no ground for the contention that the constitution itself was intrinsically unworkable. Its congenital weakness was that the Executive was responsible not to the Irish but to the British Parliament. Friction between the Legislature and the Executive was thus inevitable; but with tact and goodwill even this anomaly need not have stopped the working of the machine. What would have happened had the British Ministry unselfishly co-operated with Grattan and the moderate Nationalists to secure urgent political and economic reforms we can but conjecture. But we know only too well the effect of withholding such co-operation. There is scarcely a trace in the voluminous correspondence of the Viceroys, except perhaps the Duke of Rutland, of any consideration for the good of the country over which they ruled. Their mandate was to watch the interest of England. When Cornwallis proposed in 1798 that Castlereagh should become Chief Secretary, the King objected that the post ought to be held by a Briton; but his scruples were allayed by the Viceroy’s assurance that his candidate was “so very unlike an Irishman” that the appointment would be perfectly safe. There is no ground whatever for the notion that the Parliament was a wholly corrupt and reactionary body. That Grattan was not prepared to endanger the Protestant Ascendency is true but irrelevant; for he was ready to champion such measures of Parliamentary Reform and Catholic Emancipation as would have transformed Parliament into a tolerable mirror of Irish opinion. There can be little doubt that if the Executive had lent its aid, such measures could have been carried as easily as the Relief Bill of 1793.
In his thoughtful and eloquent volume, “The Framework of Home Rule,” Mr. Erskine Childers gently chides Home Rulers for wasting vain regrets on the Grattan Parliament, in which he loses interest after the rejection of Flood’s Reform Bill of 1783. No instructed Home Ruler would dream of setting that celebrated body on a pedestal. We know too well that, in the words of Litton Falkiner, it was a parliament of landlords, of placemen, and of Protestants. It was fundamentally conservative and aristocratic. It was ever ready to pass Coercion Acts. It was no more a council of disinterested patriots than the sister assembly at Westminster. On the other hand a large and influential section of its members was eager to purge it of its baser elements. “With every inducement to religious bigotry, it carried the policy of toleration in many respects further than the Parliament of England. With many inducements to disloyalty, it was steadily faithful to the connection. Nor should it be forgotten that it was on the whole a vigilant and intelligent guardian of the material interests of the country.”(147) Though cabin’d, cribbed, confined, it was at least in some degree an organ of public opinion and a symbol of nationality, as the Third Duma, tame though it be, has stood for the principle of representation in autocratic Russia. The duty of British statesmen was to mend it, not to end it. If Grattan’s Parliament was a failure, the Union was a greater failure. For the one experiment recognised, however imperfectly, the separateness of Ireland, while the other started from its denial. To use the jargon of the Ascendency party, Ireland was “loyal” before the Union and “disloyal” after it. The clear moral of those chequered years for latter-day statesmen is that a responsible Executive is of more importance than a co-equal legislature, and that having granted autonomy the British Parliament and British Ministers must strive to render it a success. Pitt’s Union was not partnership but subjection. The only true Union between countries so different is to be found in loyal comradeship. Against such a relationship history cannot bear witness, for it has never been tried.