tal reserved in the
country would have been an ample fund for their employment and for the
sustentation of their families, are you not guilty of a great sin
in involving yourselves in such a loss of life and of money in war,
except on grounds and under circumstances which, according to the
opinion of every man in the country, should leave no kind of option
whatever for your choice?

I know perfectly well the kind of observations which a certain class
of critics will make upon this speech. I have been already told by a
very eminent newspaper publisher in Calcutta, who, commenting on
a speech I made at the close of the session, with regard to the
condition of India and our future policy in that country, said, that
the policy I recommended was intended to strike at the root of the
advancement of the British Empire, and that its advancement did not
necessarily involve the calamities which I pointed out as likely to
occur. My Calcutta critic assured me that Rome pursued a similar
policy for a period of eight centuries, and for those eight centuries
she remained great. Now, I do not think that examples taken from
pagan, sanguinary Rome are proper models for the imitation of a
Christian country, nor would I limit my hopes of the greatness of
England even to the long duration of 800 years. But what is Rome now?
The great city is dead. A poet has described her as 'the lone mother
of dead empires'. Her language even is dead. Her very tombs are empty;
the ashes of her most illustrious citizens are dispersed--

The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now.

Yet I am asked, I, who am one of the legislators of a Christian
country, to measure my policy by the policy of ancient and pagan Rome!

I believe there is no permanent greatness to a nation except it be
based upon morality. I do not care for military greatness or military
renown. I care for the condition of the people among whom I live.
There is no man in England who is less likely to speak irreverently
of the Crown and Monarchy of England than I am; but crowns, coronets,
mitres, military display, the pomp of war, wide colonies, and a huge
empire, are, in my view, all trifles light as air, and not worth
considering, unless with them you can have a fair share of comfort,
contentment, and happiness among the great body of the people.
Palaces, baronial castles, great halls, stately mansions, do not make
a nation. The nation in every country dwells in the cottage; and
unless the l