urchased at a heavy price--a price
which must not be made light of, because it is often worth paying. A
colonial governor is a ruler who has no permanent interest in the
colony he governs; who perhaps had to look for it in the map when he
was sent thither; who takes years before he really understands its
parties and its controversies; who, though without prejudice himself,
is apt to be a slave to the prejudices of local people near him; who
inevitably, and almost laudably, governs not in the interest of the
colony, which he may mistake, but in his own interest, which he sees
and is sure of. The first desire of a colonial governor is not to get
into a "scrape," not to do anything which may give trouble to his
superiors--the Colonial Office--at home, which may cause an untimely
and dubious recall, which may hurt his after career. He is sure to
leave upon the colony the feeling that they have a ruler who only half
knows them, and does not so much as half care for them. We hardly
appreciate this common feeling in our colonies, because WE appoint
THEIR sovereign; but we should understand it in an instant if, by a
political metamorphosis, the choice were turned the other way--if THEY
appointed OUR sovereign. We should then say at once, "How is it
possible a man from New Zealand can understand England? how is it
possible, that a man longing to get back to the antipodes can care for
England? how can we trust one who lives by the fluctuating favour of a
distant authority? how can we heartily obey one who is but a foreigner
with the accident of an identical language?"

I dwell on the evils which impair the advantage of colonial
governorship because that is the most favoured case of
super-Parliamentary royalty, and because from looking at it we can
bring freshly home to our minds what the real difficulties of that
institution are. We are so familiar with it that we do not understand
it. We are like people who have known a man all their lives, and yet
are quite surprised when he displays some obvious characteristic which
casual observers have detected at a glance. I have known a man who did
not know what colour his sister's eyes were, though he had seen her
every day for twenty years; or rather, he did not know because he had
so seen her: so true is the philosophical maxim that we neglect the
constant element in our thoughts, though it is probably the most
important, and attend almost only to the varying elements--the
differentiat