ose of British origin in the
Transvaal who, with honest conviction, have advocated the immediate
concession of full responsible government, will recognize the soundness
and cogency of the reasons, both in their own interests and in those of
the Empire, for proceeding more cautiously and slowly, and that under a
political system which admittedly has its difficulties they will,
notwithstanding a temporary disappointment, do their best to promote the
welfare of the country and the smooth working of its institutions."

Then came a chivalrous compliment to the Dutch for their "gallant
struggle" in the war, coupled with a reminder that they are not to be
trusted with political power, a reminder so courteously worded that it,
too, becomes a compliment:

"The inhabitants of Dutch origin have recently witnessed, after their
gallant struggle against superior power, the fall of the Republic
founded by the valour and sufferings of their ancestors, and cannot be
expected, until time has done more to heal the wound, to entertain the
most cordial feelings towards the Government of the Transvaal. But from
them also, as from a people of practical genius, who have learned by
long experience to make the best of circumstances, His Majesty's
Government expect co-operation in the task of making their race, no
longer in isolated independence, a strong pillar in the fabric of a
world-wide Empire. That this should be the result, and that a complete
reconciliation between men of two great and kindred races should, under
the leading of Divine Providence, speedily come to pass, is the ardent
desire of His Majesty the King and of His Majesty's Government."

The tone recalls the tone of Pitt and Castlereagh in proposing the
Union. But Fitzgibbon went more directly to the point in saying outright
that, Ireland having been conquered and confiscated, the colonists "were
at the mercy of the old inhabitants of the island," and that laws must
be framed by an external power to "meet the vicious propensities of
human nature." Let us recognize unreservedly that the words of the
Transvaal despatch were the outcome of deep and sincere conviction. That
is the worst of it. From age to age Ireland has to suffer for the depth
and sincerity of these convictions. There, too, the cleavage of race and
religion, never complete, always defying the official efforts to
"stereotype and emphasize it," to quote the despatch of 1905, grows
fainter with time, and will grow f