Rosebery, stated that we supplied Heligoland with a constitution soon after it came into our possession. It had a legislative council consisting of six nominated members, with whom six others were to be associated under certain circumstances. The connection between the island and Denmark in those days was much closer than it afterwards became, and we regret to learn that, as a result of or contemporaneously with this Danish connection, it was impossible to recover debts or to enforce legal processes in the island, gambling-tables were set up, and, as Lord Carnarvon delicately puts it, "great difficulties arose" as to wrecking and salvage cases. The descendants of the Sicambri seem to have thought that of all slaves the most base is he that pays, and it may be plausibly conjectured that the Saxon deity who was worshipped on the island was identical with Mercury. The constitution of 1864 is described as "a change in the direction of local self-government," and it may be admitted that the islanders of that day did need an increase of self-government, but in a moral, not political, sense. An extension of the franchise was granted, and there are enthusiasts capable of believing that universal suffrage would cure a propensity to wrecking and gambling, and promote a law-abiding and debt-paying frame of mind. However, that experiment failed, as experiments have failed in larger colonies, and then the Duke of Buckingham went to the island, as above described, and abolished its constitution with the happiest possible results. Another speaker, being free from official regard for susceptible Sicambri, remarked that at that time it was impossible to serve a writ, and that Heligoland wanted not so much a constitution as a constable. In fact, it was a sort of Whitefriars with sea air; and even Lord Carnarvon seems to admit that an English officer called receiver of wrecks was quite as important in the new system as the lieutenant-governor or his council. So far as could be possible under the authority of the British crown, this island seems to have approximated to the condition ascribed by a witness in the case of the "Lennie" mutineers to (we think) Isle de Rhé. "I told them it was a republic, and there were no police, and they had better go ashore." Self-government, in the sense of keeping your hands from picking and stealing, was obviously the want of the islanders, and they have now acquired it. Lord Carnarvon does not directly question the assertion that this island was a paradise under the lamented constitution of 1864; but he rather seems to suggest that it was something else, and he positively states the public debt has been further reduced since the advent of the wreck-receiver. In fact, there has been rather less liberty and rather more law. The debt of Heligoland does not, so far as we know, figure prominently in the transactions of the stock exchange, and the possessor of a few hundred pounds might probably constitute himself sole creditor of this dependency of the British crown. Lord Carnarvon omits to notice the alarming prevalence of rabbits, and we fear that a colonial secretary in uniform on board a man-of-war would produce small impression on them. But we could at all events turn out a few foxes on the island.
THE POWER OF NAMES.
The discussion which has been going on as to the royal title seems to be merely a discussion with regard to names, but the intense feeling it has provoked shows clearly that discussions with regard to names are not unfrequently as important as discussions with regard to things,—indeed, are discussions with regard to things in another form. For instance, in this case of India, while the discussion has seemed to be merely whether a title denoting the suzerainty of the queen over the Indian princes should be assumed by her in relation to India, the real point in dispute has probably been this,—whether, by crystallizing into a magnificent addition to the royal title, the queen's style as an Indian potentate, we should not be diverting popular attention from that which is most solid, historic, and enduring in the English throne,—that indeed which is and always must be at the basis of its power in India,—only to fix it on the comparatively accidental prestige that it has acquired in the last few years, by entering into the labours of a great commercial company, which had discovered for itself and utilized the governing capacities of our middle classes. No doubt, the many heroic and unheroic actions which led to the consolidation of our Indian government have altered the meaning attached to all phrases which denote British power, much more than we could easily alter the nature of that power by giving it a false name. Still, that is also possible. You
