THE SCOTCH QUESTION.
[TO TEE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR."] 45114—Don't believe what people write you about this or that infinitesimal thing being the cause of Scottish discontent. 4' Well may they call this Stony Stratford, for I was never so bitten with fleas in my life." The Scotch don't in the least know what they want in particular; they think that "legislation" is spelt" Administration," but they do want some things. Only, they have not yet come to agree on the form in which they are to be put, and so they are only unanimous in having a national -demonstration to the effect that Scotland ought to have what Scotland may want. So far, they always agree ; so far, there. 'fore, the late meeting was a success. But there is more behind in an inarticulate form. For example, a good many years ago the one representative of Scotland in this Parliament told it -that the present partial establishment of Presbyterianism was a gross injustice, but that it was for Scotland, and Scotland alone, to say how the injustice was to be pat right. Everybody in Scotland found that he agreed with Mr. Gladstone, so far as he went. They admitted the necessity of the question, but have they given the answer ? Not a bit of it. It may come very soon, it will come with a rush when it comes; but in the mass even the Liberalism of Scotland is content to rearm Mr. Gladstone's premise, and to hold the conclusion in solution. And that is only one of several things which we feel in our bones, and which spell "legislation." True, our Boards also want looking after, as your correspondent says; and it is a most irritating thing never to know where to go, or to be able to say where responsibility is concentrated. But the idea that Scotland is to exchange legislation for bureaucracy, or that a Secretary of any kind would be allowed to govern her, is hopeless. At present, no doubt, the thistliest nation in the world is represented by a row of milk-poppies; and Lord Rose- Ivry, if be really went in for legislation, would be a very good -exchange. But we want strong hands to deal with our real problems, and we do not care whether they are ganntleted or gloved, provided we fancy they are our own.—I am, Sir, &c.,
NEMO ME IMPURE.
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