of their party was naturally not an unpopular thing to do, and for some
time after the fall of Lord Rosebery's government they rather gained
than lost ground in the esteem of the public. The Conservatives, indeed,
declared that the House had renewed its youth, and had become once more
an important organ of the state by asserting its right to appealing from
the cabinet and the majority in the Commons to the nation itself. The
Lords were said to have attained the function of demanding a sort of
referendum on measures of exceptional gravity; but useful as such a
function might be, if in the nature of things a possible one, the
existing House of Lords cannot really exercise it, because their object
in doing so is essentially partisan. In attempting to appeal to the
electorate, they act at the behest of one party alone. Thus in 1893 the
Lords were quite ready to force the issue whether the cabinet retained
the confidence of the country; but in 1905 when a series of adverse
by-elections made it exceedingly doubtful whether the Conservative
government had not lost its popularity, nothing was further from their
intention than to cause a dissolution.
Now, a power to provoke a referendum or appeal to the people, which is
always used in favour of one party and against the other, however
popular it may be at a given moment, and however much it may be
permanently satisfactory to the party that it helps, cannot fail in the
long run to be exceedingly annoying to its rival; nor is it likely to
commend itself to the great mass of thinking men as a just and
statesmanlike institution. The House of Lords is a permanent handicap in
favour of the Tories, which is believed to have helped them even in
elections for the House of Commons. The workingmen have been told that
although the Conservatives promise them less, they are better able to
fulfil their promises than the Liberals who cannot control the House of
Lords. These things must be borne in mind in discussing a possible
reform of the upper House; but before coming to that question it will be
well to look at the Lords under some other aspects--at their
non-partisan activity, their treatment of private members' bills, and of
private bill legislation, and at the personal influence of the leading
peers.
[Sidenote: Non-political Legislation.]
So far we have considered only government bills, backed by the authority
of a responsible ministry, which the upper House must treat with
circumspection. The Lords do not feel the same restraint in regard to
private members' bills sent to them from the Commons. These lie beyond
the immediate range of party conflicts, and although they may
occasionally deal with important subjects, neither the cabinet nor the
parties take sides officially upon them. The Lords can, therefore, amend
or reject them without fear; but it has become so difficult for a
private member to get through the Commons any bill to which there is
serious opposition, that this function of the upper House is not of
great use. Still less vital is its power to initiate measures. In order
the better to employ the time of the Commons the government introduces
some of its secondary bills first in the Lords;[412:1] but measures
proposed by individual peers have little chance of success. It is hard
enough for a private member of the Commons to put his bill through its
stages in that House, with all the sittings reserved for the purpose in
the earlier part of the session; and it is even harder to pass a bill
brought from the Lords at a later date. The result is that of the few
private members' bills enacted each session only about one sixth
originate with the peers.
[Sidenote: Private Bill Legislation.]
The relation of the House of Lords to private bill legislation is very
different, for bills of that kind are in a region quite outside of
politics. In their case, as already observed, the action of the Lords
is, if anything, even more important than that of the Commons; and, in
fact, the private bill committees of the upper House inspire in general
a greater confidence, because the members are men of more
experience.[412:2] While, therefore, the House of Lords occupies a
subordinate place in regard to public measures of all kinds, and a
position of marked inferiority in the case of government bills, in
private and local legislation, which in England is of great importance,
its activity is constant and highly useful.
[Sidenote: Personal Influence of the Peers.]
The personal influence of the Lords is far greater than their collective
authority. With the waning of the landed gentry the respect for the old
territorial aristocracy has been replaced by a veneration for titles,
and this has inured to the benefit of the peerage. One sees it even in
business affairs, although the Lords as a class are little qualified by
experience for dealing with matters of that kind, the nobility having
until recently been debarred by tradition from commercial life. One of
the devices of that arch promoter Hooley for inducing the public to
embark in his schemes was to include a number of peers in his list of
directors--guinea-pig directors, as they were called, because their most
visible function was to pocket a guinea for attendance at each meeting.
The Hooley revelations some years ago checked this practice; but the
fact that it should have existed shows the confidence that titles were
believed to inspire among a large class of investors.
The glamour of rank appears to be if anything more dazzling as one
descends in the social scale; and a scion of a noble family, even when
he has no landed interest at his back, is usually a strong Parliamentary
candidate in a working-class constituency. The extension of the
franchise has thus rather increased than diminished the influence of the
nobility. The House of Commons, no doubt, makes a show of insisting that
the peers shall take no part in general elections; but they are,
nevertheless, active in politics and even in great electioneering
organisations, particularly in those that stand, like the Primrose
League, a little outside of the regular party machinery. When a general
election is not in progress the leaders of the House of Lords speak
constantly in public; and at the present day speeches from the platform
are reported in the daily press quite as fully, and read at least as
widely, as those delivered in the House of Commons. A foreigner is
impressed by the popular confidence in those peers who have attained a
position in the forefront of politics. There seems to be a feeling that
they are raised above the scrimmage of public life; that in rank,
wealth, and reputation they possess already the goal of ambition, and
are beyond the reach of the temptations that beset the ordinary man.
[Sidenote: Reform of the House of Lords.]
[Sidenote: Objects of Reform.]
The adoption by the Lords, in the autumn of 1906, of amendments to the
Education Bill, so contrary to its spirit that they were rejected in the
Commons by an overwhelming majority without any attempt at compromise,
has brought the question of a reform of the upper House again
prominently before the country. No one would now think of creating the
House of Lords as it stands; but, as Mr. (now Lord) Courtney remarks,
"The public judgment may long tolerate a machine which works without
unnecessary friction, although it would not construct it in the same
fashion if it had to be for the first time devised."[414:1] This is
particularly true if it is difficult to propose something that would
work better; and therefore in discussing the reform of the House of
Lords it is important to have clearly in mind the objects to be
attained. Now, there are four possible objects of a reform: to make the
House less powerful; to make it more powerful; to change the nature of
its power; or to bring it into greater harmony with the popular elements
in the state; and it may be interesting to examine these objects in
turn.
[Sidenote: To Reduce the Power of the House.]
The National Liberal Federation has repeatedly passed resolutions in
favour of restricting what is called the veto of the House of Lords.
This is most natural, for besides the objection in principle to
hereditary legislators, there is the galling fact that the House is
always hostile to the Liberal party. No one would suggest that so long
as a second chamber is suffered to exist it should be wholly deprived of
the right to reject or amend bills sent to it from the Commons. It is
proposed, however, that the veto shall not be repeated after a certain
interval, and the vital question is what that interval shall be. A
provision that the Lords should not reject a bill passed by the Commons
in two successive Parliaments, would probably be a mere legal
ratification of their present constitutional position; for although,
after a fresh general election has proved that the cabinet retains the
confidence of the nation, the Lords may refuse a second time to enact
one of its measures, they have never done so, and are not very likely to
venture so far. A provision, on the other hand, that the Lords should
not reject or amend a bill passed by the Commons in two successive
sessions of the same Parliament would mean that except in the last
session of an expiring Parliament, they could reject or amend seriously
no government bill, whether convinced that the nation approved of it or
not.[415:1] This would be almost equivalent to an entire abolition of
the second chamber so far as government measures are concerned, because
the shred of authority left would amount to little more than that of
requiring the ministers to reconsider their position, which they could
hardly do without stultifying themselves. The President of the French
Republic has a similar right in relation to the chambers, but it is
never exercised. A change of this kind could certainly be made, but
whether it would be wise or not is another question.
Moreover, if a rule that the Lords should not reject or amend a
government bill passed by the Commons in two successive sessions did not
virtually destroy the power of the House of Lords altogether, it would
not accomplish the object of the Liberals. It would not put them upon a
footing of equality with the Conservatives, for it would mean that it
would take them two sessions to pass any legislation of a far-reaching
character, while the Conservatives could do it in one.
We are not concerned now with the question of reducing the power of the
hereditary members of the House, by introducing other members in their
stead; but of reducing the power of the House as a whole. Those persons
who are seriously interested in reforming the composition of the body
are usually more anxious to increase than to diminish its authority, and
it would be somewhat strange to make the House of Lords more
representative or more popular, while at the same time taking away the
last remnants of its power in political questions.
[Sidenote: To Increase its Power.]
In considering suggestions to reform the House of Lords for the sake of
increasing its efficiency we are met by the question whether with a
parliamentary system, that is with government by party, as highly
developed as it is in England, a more powerful upper House is possible.
Fifty years ago second chambers were defended on the ground that they
acted as a drag on radical legislation. But, as we have seen, the House
of Lords does not really perform that function. It does not try to check
legislation by one of the parties, and only under peculiar circumstances
can it seriously restrain the other. Nor could any upper House render
that service effectively in England to-day. The fact is that although
historically the position of the House of Lords may have been the
consequence of its hereditary, non-representative character, it is now
doomed to its present condition by the inexorable logic of a political
system. Its limitations in dealing with government bills are imposed by
the principle of a ministry responsible to the popular chamber, and
working through highly developed parties; its inability to exert a
substantial influence upon other public legislation is the result, not
of its own inherent weakness, but of the condition of the House of
Commons; while in private bill legislation, which lies outside the
domain of politics, it shares in full measure the authority of a
coordinate branch of Parliament.
[Sidenote: To Change the Nature of its Power.]
The same reasoning would apply to any proposal to alter in character the
powers exercised by the Lords. The channels of possible activity of any
second chamber are fixed in England by the system itself, and they are
not far from the ones in which the House of Lords now moves. The House
could, no doubt, be shorn of the remnant of political authority that it
still wields, and it could be deprived of its right to take part in
private bill legislation; but it would seem that, except by merely
reducing their extent, the nature of its powers cannot be very
materially changed.
[Sidenote: To Bring it into Harmony with the Nation.]
[Sidenote: Creation of Peers.]
During the generation following the Reform Act of 1832, men spoke of the
possibility of making new peers as a sufficient safeguard against
obstinacy on the part of the upper House. It was felt that a ministry
with the nation at its back could, if necessary, force the Lords to
yield by advising the Crown to create peers enough to turn the scale.
Lord Grey's government proposed to do this as a last resort to pass the
Reform Bill of 1832, and obtained the consent of William IV.; but the
threat was enough, and the Lords gave way. Such a drastic means of
coercion is probably useless to-day; and would be only a temporary
remedy. It is really not with the Commons that the House of Lords now
comes into serious conflict, but with the cabinet which represents, or
claims to represent, the nation, or to be more accurate the major part
of the nation; and no creation of peers would be made to force a bill
through the House of Lords unless the party in power had a mandate from
the people to pass it. This is the real meaning of the saying that the
House of Lords can force a referendum, or appeal to the nation, on a
measure to which they object. A creation of peers to swamp the upper
House would, therefore, not be tried until a general election had proved
the persistent will of the electorate upon the measure in question, and
then the Lords would in any case submit. Differences of opinion may, of
course, arise on the question whether there is sufficient evidence of
the popular will or not. In 1893, for example, the Liberals contended
that the preceding general election had been carried on the issue of
Home Rule, while the Conservatives insisted that it had really turned on
other matters; and the same thing happened in the case of the Education
Bill of 1906. Such a discussion may be conducted with heat, but
especially with the enormous number of peers now required to turn a
majority in their House, there is little danger of precipitate action.
It is one of many cases where the conventions of the Constitution may
appear to be strained, but where one may be sure they will not be
broken.[417:1]
Moreover, if the creation of peers were within the region of practical
politics to-day, it would be only a temporary remedy for existing
grievances. Contrary to the prevalent opinion, Lord John Russell thought
that in 1832 the authority of the House of Lords suffered, on the whole,
more from the abstention of its members under threat, than it would have
from an actual creation of peers that might have brought it into harmony
with the people. He remarks that the Tory majority of eighty, hostile to
Lord Grey's government, was held back by Wellington, but employed by
Lyndhurst to kill unpretending but useful measures.[418:1] Subsequent
events have shown the impossibility of maintaining harmony between the
Houses by a single creation of peers, for had a batch of Lord Grey's
supporters been given seats in the Lords in 1832, the House would have
been heavily Conservative again within a generation.
The difficulty to-day is not so much that the peers are permanently out
of accord with the nation, as that they are bound to one of the two
parties into which the country is divided. A mere reduction in the size
of the Tory majority would do little or no good; nor would the
difficulty be solved if the majority were transferred to the other
party, or even if it shifted at different periods. In a country governed
by party as strictly as England is to-day, the majority in the upper
House must at any one time belong to one side or the other. If the
majority shifted, there would not be permanent irritation in the same
quarter; but first one side, and then the other, would complain that the
Lords thwarted the popular will. While, therefore, the occasional
creation of a large number of peers, either hereditary or for life,
might, at a sacrifice of the self-respect of the House of Lords, produce
for the moment a greater similarity of views between the two branches of
Parliament, a constant political harmony could be attained only by such
additions to the upper House by each new set of ministers as would make
it a mere tool in their hands. In short, an upper House in a true
parliamentary system cannot be brought into constant accord with the
dominant party of the day without destroying its independence
altogether; and to make the House of Lords a mere tool in the hands of
every cabinet would be well-nigh impossible and politically absurd.
[Sidenote: Reform in the Composition of the House.]
What is true of the creation of peers is true also of any other method
of changing the membership of the House. Suggestions for reforming its
composition have been based mainly upon the desire to reduce the
hereditary element, and supply its place by representative men selected
in other ways. The House contains, of course, many drones, who have
inherited the right, without the desire, for public work. Either they do
not attend at all, or they come only to swell a foregone majority upon
some measure that has attracted popular interest. They give no time or
thought to the work of the House, and their votes, on the rare occasions
when they are cast, are peculiarly exasperating to their opponents. As
the regular attendants at the sittings are few, it has been suggested
that the English, like the Scotch and Irish, nobility should choose
representatives of their own order, and that the rest should have no
right to vote. Just as the Scotch and Irish representative peers are
solidly Unionist, so a change of this kind would merely result in
increasing the Conservative majority of the House, unless some principle
of minority representation were adopted, in which case the majority,
though numerically smaller, would be equally constant and more subject
to party dictation.
On the other hand, it has been proposed to make the House more broadly
representative of the nation by a more or less extended creation of life
peers, nominated, in part, perhaps, by sundry public bodies in the
United Kingdom. It may be doubted, however, whether life peers are
needed to increase the eminence or, in one sense, the representative
character of the House. The peerage has been opened freely to men
distinguished in various fields; and while many men without wealth have
doubtless been precluded from an honour that would burden their
descendants, many others have come in. The number of hereditary members
of the House has increased nearly, although not quite, in proportion to
population; and only about one fourth of the present members sit by
virtue of titles dating before 1800. A large share of the creations have
been made for political service; but others have been conferred in
consequence of wealth amassed in commercial and industrial pursuits; the
most distinguished lawyers and soldiers have always been rewarded by a
peerage; and so in more recent times have a few men of eminence in
science and literature. A body that contains, or has recently contained,
such men as Tennyson, Acton, Kelvin, Lister, Rayleigh, and many more,
can bear comparison in personal distinction with any legislative chamber
the world has ever known. Therefore one may fairly doubt whether the
defect to be remedied by a creation of life peers is either a lack of
brains in the House, or a failure of its members to represent the deeper
currents of national life.
[Sidenote: Reform Unlikely to Add Much Strength.]
But the personal distinction of members, in fields outside of public
affairs, has very little connection with the political power of a body;
and the House of Lords itself furnishes one of the most striking proofs
of that fact. The men whose names have been mentioned have taken no part
in the work of the House, and such people rarely do. Moreover, if they
take part they rarely do it well. Occasionally such a man may have a
chance to say something on the subject of his own profession that
carries weight. The speech of Lord Roberts in July, 1905, for example,
about the inefficiency of the British Army, was considered a very
impressive utterance, but, except for the rule of office that sealed his
mouth in any other place, he might have delivered it with just as much
effect elsewhere. Men who would be created life peers on account of
their distinction in other lines would either take no interest in
politics, or would take it so late in life that they would rarely carry
weight with the public. Such influence and repute as the House of Lords
now possesses is derived not from the personal fame of the members but
from the social lustre of the peerage, and no creation of life peers
would be likely to add anything to that. The authority of a public body
depends not upon the eminence but upon the political following of its
members; and it is self-evident that no leading English statesman in the
full tide of his vigour and popularity would willingly exchange a seat
in the House of Commons for an appointment for life in any second
chamber, so that a House of Lords constructed on these principles would
become in large part an asylum for decrepit politicians.
Another suggestion of a similar kind is that the House should be
remodelled upon the lines of the Privy Council, but the Privy Council
to-day as a working body is nothing but the ministry, the other members
attending only on ceremonial occasions. It is a mere instrument of
government in the hands of the cabinet; nor, so far as English politics
are concerned, can it very well be anything else. The proposal that
colonial members should sit in the House of Lords is interesting from
other points of view, but clearly it could not be applied in the case of
domestic legislation. That the will of the House of Commons on English
questions should be thwarted by representatives from other parts of the
empire would be far more unfortunate than to have it thwarted by
hereditary English nobles.
[Sidenote: Other Probable Results.]
But if a change in the composition of the House of Lords would be very
unlikely to raise its political position as a whole, it might well
reduce the personal influence of individual peers. If the House came to
be regarded as mainly a collection of persons holding seats for life,
the social position of its members might be very different from that of
an hereditary nobility. A radical reform in the composition of the House
might also very well produce a change of another kind. Perhaps the most
important function of the House of Lords at the present day, and
probably the chief privilege of its members, comes from the fact that it
is largely a reservoir of ministers of state. By the present traditions
ministers must be all taken from one House or the other; and a large
proportion of them are always taken from the peers. This gives a
nobleman, who is sincerely interested in public life, even if of
somewhat slender ability, a fair prospect of obtaining a position of
honour and usefulness. Now, if a number of life peers were to be
created, it would clearly be possible to confer a title upon a man for
the purpose of making him a minister. If this were done commonly, it
might affect not only the position of the existing peers, but also that
of the House of Commons. For a man not born to a coronet would be able
to achieve a high office of state without an apprenticeship in the
popular chamber. Thus a channel might be opened for a direct connection
between the cabinet and the political forces of the nation without the
mediation of the House of Commons. The change might be a first step in
lessening the authority of Parliament, because cabinets, as will be
explained in the following chapter, being really made or destroyed by
the popular voice uttered in general elections, much of the power of the
House of Commons is based upon the fact that it is the sole recruiting
ground for all ministers not hereditary peers.
Unsatisfactory, therefore, as the present position of the House of Lords
is to many people in England, the difficulties that surround the
question of reform are very great; and a half-unconscious perception of
these explains in large part the fact that although proposals to reform
the House have been made of late years by leading men of every shade of
political opinion, none of them has borne fruit, or even taken the shape
of a definite plan commanding any considerable amount of support. To
reform the House of Lords, or to create some other satisfactory second
chamber may not be an impossible task, but it is one that will require
constructive statesmanship in a high degree; and to obtain the best
chance of success it ought to be undertaken at the most unlikely time, a
time when the question provokes no passionate interest.
FOOTNOTES:
[406:1] "The Governance of England," 218.
[406:2] In 1830 the House of Lords contained 326 hereditary members.
From that time until the fall of Mr. Gladstone's cabinet, in 1885, the
Liberals made 198 additions to these members; and during the same period
the Conservatives made 70. Since 1885 the Conservatives have been in
power by far the greater part of the time, and their creations of peers
have been correspondingly more numerous.
[409:1] See the chapter on "The Strength of Party Ties," _infra_.
[412:1] When the Liberals are in power this is not much use for bills
which the Lords are likely to amend seriously, because the amendments
would have to be reversed in the Commons at a cost of much time.
[412:2] Rep. of Com. on Priv. Bill Legislation, Com. Papers, 1888, XVI.,
1.
[414:1] "The Working Constitution," 120.
[415:1] Probably the advocates of this policy would not want to apply it
in the case of private bill legislation.
[417:1] The power to create peers enough to swamp the House has a
potential value. It could be used once for all to abolish or transform
the body, and this fact has, no doubt, its effect on the general
attitude of the members, but that does not affect the argument that as a
means of maintaining harmony between the Houses the power is useless.
[418:1] "Recollections and Suggestions," 110-11.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE CABINET AND THE COUNTRY
[Sidenote: Transfer of Power from Parliament to the People.]
[Sidenote: Its Causes; (1) the Growth of Power of the Cabinet.]
If the predominance of the House of Commons has been lessened by a
delegation of authority to the cabinet, it has been weakened also by the
transfer of power directly to the electorate. The two tendencies are
not, indeed, unconnected. The transfer of power to the electorate is due
in part to the growing influence of the ministers, to the recognition
that policy is mainly directed, not by Parliament, but by them. The
cabinet now rules the nation by and with the advice and consent of
Parliament; and for that very reason the nation wishes to decide what
cabinet it shall be that rules. No doubt the ministry depends for its
existence upon the good pleasure of the House of Commons; but it really
gets its commission from the country as the result of a general
election. Even if its life should be cut short by the Commons, the new
cabinet would not now rest for support upon that Parliament; but would
at once dissolve and seek a fresh majority from the electors. This was
by no means true forty years ago. The Parliament elected in 1852, which
sat a little more than four years, supported during the first half of
that time a coalition ministry of Liberals and Peelites, and during the
second half a ministry of Liberals alone. The following Parliament
affords an even better illustration. It met in 1857 with a large
majority for the Liberal cabinet of Lord Palmerston; but in less than a
year he was defeated and resigned, to be succeeded by the Conservatives
under Lord Derby, who carried on the government for another year before
dissolving. The case of the next Conservative administration is more
striking still. Coming into office in 1866, in face of a hostile
majority, strongly Liberal, but hopelessly divided upon questions of
reform, it remained in power more than two years, and brought to pass a
drastic extension of the franchise before it dissolved Parliament.
Nothing of the kind has occurred since that time. Every subsequent
change of ministry has either been the immediate consequence of a
general election, or if not, the new cabinet has kept the old Parliament
together only so long as was absolutely necessary to dispose of current
business, and has then appealed to the people. Practically, therefore, a
change of ministry to-day is either the result of, or is at once
ratified by, a general election.
[Sidenote: (2) The Increase of the Electorate.]
The decline in the power of the House is partly due also to the
extension of the franchise, and the consequent growth in size of the
electorate, which has become so large that the voters cannot be reached
by private or personal contact, but only by publicity. A cynic might
well say that if oligarchy fosters intrigue, democracy is based upon
advertisement, for in order to control the electorate it is no longer
enough, as it was a hundred years ago, to be backed by a few influential
patrons or to enlist the support of the members of Parliament. The
immense mass of the voters must be addressed, and hence public questions
must be discussed not only in Parliament, but in the ears of the people
at large.
[Sidenote: (3) The Control by Public Opinion.]
A third reason why power tends to pass away from the House is the
greater control exerted in political affairs by public opinion, in
consequence of the rapid means of disseminating knowledge and of forming
and expressing a judgment. Whatever may be the importance of the
editorial columns of the daily press in creating, or giving voice to,
the general sentiment--and there is reason to suppose that editorials
are of less consequence in both respects than they were formerly--it is
certainly clear that the multiplication of cheap newspapers has made it
possible for vastly larger numbers of men to become rapidly acquainted
with current events; while the post and telegraph, and the habit of
organisation, have made it much more easy for them to express their
views. A debate, a vote, or a scene, that occurs in Parliament late at
night is brought home to the whole country at breakfast the next
morning, and prominent constituents, clubs, committees and the like, can
praise or censure, encourage or admonish, their member for his vote
before the next sitting of the House. Rousseau's charge that the English
were free only at the moment of electing a Parliament, and then were in
bondage during the whole of its term, was by no means really true when
he wrote it, and is far less true to-day. It is for this reason that
there has ceased to be any clamour for annual Parliaments, almost the
only one of the famous six points in the People's Charter that has not
been substantially achieved.[425:1] Parliaments have not grown shorter.
On the contrary, in the twenty years from 1832 to 1852, when the cry of
the Chartists was heard, the average duration of Parliaments was four
years, and since the extension of the suffrage in 1868 they have
averaged four years and three-quarters.
[Sidenote: Its Manifestations.]
The passing of political power from the House of Commons to the people
is shown by many unmistakable signs, and by none more clearly than by
the frequent reference in Parliament itself to the opinions of the "man
in the street." He is said to fear this, or be shocked by that, or
expect the other; and the House is supposed to pay some regard to his
views, not because he is peculiarly gifted with knowledge, experience,
or wisdom, in greater measure than the members themselves. Far from it.
He is cited as a specimen of average humanity; the person to whom
Carlyle referred when he spoke of modern Parliaments with twenty-seven
millions, mostly fools, listening to them.[425:2] The members of the
House are supposed to heed him because they are his representatives; for
he is taken as a type of the voter of fair intelligence. In fact he is
the personification of what is believed to be outside opinion.
[Sidenote: The Doctrine of Mandate.]
Another sign of the times is found in the doctrine, now sanctioned by
the highest authority, that Parliament cannot legislate on a new
question of vital importance without a mandate from the nation. The
theory that the individual representative is a mere delegate of his
constituents, so that he is bound to resign and submit to reelection if
he changes his views, has long been a subject of discussion; but the
idea that Parliament as a whole exercises a delegated authority in the
sense that it is morally restrained from dealing with questions that
have not been laid before the people at the preceding general election
would formerly have been regarded as a dangerous political heresy. Yet
during the recent agitation in regard to fiscal policy, Mr. Balfour,
while repudiating the suggestion that the existing Parliament, having
been elected on the single issue of the South African War, ought to be
dissolved when peace was made,[426:1] refused to grant time for a debate
on free food, on the ground that it would be constitutionally improper
for Parliament to act on the question until it had been submitted to the
people at a general election,[426:2] and that it would be unwise for the
House to discuss a subject on which it could not act.[426:3]
Based upon a similar principle is the claim reiterated by the Opposition
during the latter part of Mr. Balfour's administration, that, although
supported by a majority in the House of Commons, he ought to resign,
because a long series of by-elections had shown that he had lost the
confidence of the country. His retention of office under those
conditions was said to be contrary to the spirit of the
Constitution;[426:4] and Mr. Balfour's resignation late in 1905, when
Parliament was not in session, involved an acknowledgment, if not of the
necessity, at least of the propriety, of withdrawing from office in
such a case. Former cabinets have sometimes broken up on account of
dissensions among their members, or the impossibility of maintaining an
efficient government; but there has been no previous instance of a
cabinet, supported by a majority in Parliament, which has resigned
apparently in consequence of a change of popular sentiment.
[Sidenote: Waning Interest in Reports of Debates.]
But perhaps the most ominous sign that power is passing away from the
House is the slowly waning interest in parliamentary debates. In the
eighteenth century the House strove to prevent the publication of its
discussions. Now the debates are printed under a contract with the
government, which provides that no speech shall be reported at less than
one third of its actual length;[427:1] and most of the members like to
appear in the newspapers as prominently as they can. But, if the desire
of the members to be reported is still increasing, the eagerness of the
public to read what they say is less keen. Men who are thoroughly
familiar with the reporters' gallery tell us that the demand for long
reports of speeches in Parliament has declined, and that editors find it
for their interest to cut them down, often substituting for the remarks
of the members themselves descriptive sketches of what took
place.[427:2] One cause of this is, no doubt, the length of the debates,
and the number of minor speakers taking part, which tends naturally to
dull the popular craving to read them. Then there is the fact that
Parliament is no longer the only place where the party leaders make
notable speeches. In short, the predominance of the House of Commons as
the great forum for the discussion of public questions has been
undermined by the rise and growth of the platform.
[Sidenote: History of the Platform.]
After a long slumber the habit of speaking at public meetings revived
about the middle of the eighteenth century;[428:1] and a little later it
was taken up, in connection with the early political associations, as a
systematic means of agitation in the hope of bringing pressure to bear
upon Parliament. At an early time leaders of the party in opposition
were present; but after the outbreak of the French Revolution public
meetings came to be used mainly by the working classes, and were
regarded as seditious. Men who took part in them were prosecuted, and
acts were passed to suppress them. These were so effective that by the
opening of the next century political meetings had ceased to be held;
except at elections, when some of the candidates for Parliament made
speeches to their constituents. The repressive statutes were, however,
temporary, and, although they were reenacted more than once, the
meetings revived during the intervals of freedom. The last of these
special statutes, one of the famous Six Acts of 1819, expired in 1825,
and from that time the platform entered upon a fresh career, marked by
three new features: the participation of all classes; the organised
effort to bring about a definite political change by a legitimate
creation of public opinion; and the growing use of public speaking by
parliamentary leaders as a regular engine of party warfare. Moreover,
the influence of the platform was much enlarged by the practice, which
began shortly before that time, of reporting the meetings and speeches
at considerable length in the provincial press.
[Sidenote: The Platform and Popular Movements for Reform.]
The first movement at this period in which the platform played a leading
part was conducted by the Catholic Association in Ireland, and ended in
the removal of Catholic disabilities by the Act of 1829. But far more
important examples of the use of public meetings are to be found in
England. Throughout the agitation that accompanied the passage of the
Reform Act of 1832, public meetings were innumerable, and the platform
was raised to a dignity and influence much greater than ever before. In
fact its position as a recognised power in English public life began at
that time. Its rapid advance in good repute was much helped by the fact
that during the struggle for reform it was used mainly to strengthen the
hands of the ministry; but this was not yet its characteristic function.
For the next score of years it was chiefly employed in attempts to force
upon the attention of Parliament, by popular agitation, measures which
did not otherwise receive serious consideration. Two efforts of the kind
are especially noteworthy. One of them, that of the Anti-Corn-Law
League, by the completeness of its organisation, by the cohesion and
eloquence of its leaders, by confining its attention to one point, and
by good fortune, succeeded in accomplishing its object. The other, that
of the Chartists, lacking these advantages, failed; and although most of
the demands of the Chartists were afterward obtained, that was the
result not of their endeavours, but of other causes.
[Sidenote: The Platform and the Ministers.]
Meanwhile the platform was used more and more freely by the
parliamentary leaders, but this came gradually. Pitt spoke only in the
House of Commons; and in fact until a few years before the Reform Bill
almost no minister, except Canning, made political speeches outside, and
his were addressed mainly to his own constituents. In 1823, however, he
delivered a speech at Plymouth, in which for the first time a statement
about foreign policy was made by a minister in public, and five years
later the change in the government's policy about Catholic disabilities
was announced at a banquet. With the reform movement the ministers began
to take the public a little more into their confidence. At the general
election of 1831, Lord John Russell made the first public speech
intended as an election cry,[429:1] and aroused an echo at meetings
throughout the land. In the same year Lord Grey talked about the bill at
the Lord Mayor's dinner, a festivity that became in after years a
regular occasion for announcements of government policy. From that time
the use of the platform grew rapidly in favour with the cabinet. In 1834
Lord Brougham made the unfortunate series of harangues in Scotland that
wrecked his political career. A little later Lord Melbourne explained
his own dismissal in a public speech; and Peel, on taking office,
declared his policy in an address to his constituents. So important a
matter, indeed, did the platform become in public life, that Lord
Melbourne, referring to the performances of Brougham and O'Connell,
spoke of the vacation as a trying time.[430:1] Thereafter the platform
was constantly used both by ministers and leaders of the Opposition to
bring public opinion to their side.
As usual in English politics, practice outran theory; for so late as
1886 Mr. Gladstone, in answer to a remonstrance from the Queen, felt it
necessary to excuse himself for making speeches outside of his
constituency, on the ground that in doing so he was merely following the
example of the Conservatives.[430:2] Yet in 1879 he had set the nation
ablaze by his Midlothian campaign; and although his orations there were
delivered as a candidate for the seat, they were, and must have been
intended to be, published by the newspapers all over the country.[430:3]
It was, in fact, at this very time that Lord Hartington spoke of the far
greater interest taken in public speeches than in debates in
Parliament.[430:4] Not that the platform became at once of especial
value to the party leaders. On the contrary, it was at first used much
more frequently by the Anti-Corn-Law League, the Chartists and others.
But since the introduction of something very near manhood suffrage,
which began in 1868, great popular movements, unconnected with party
politics, have become well-nigh impossible. In a real democracy there is
little use in trying to overawe the government by a display of physical
force, and hence an agitation has for its natural object the winning of
votes. But the House of Commons has now been brought so fully into
accord with the masses of the people that any strong popular sentiment
is certain to find immediate expression there. Once in the House it is
on the edge of a whirlpool, for even if it originates quite outside of
the existing parties, and gives rise, at first, to a new political
group, it can hardly fail, as it gathers headway, to be drawn into the
current of one of the two great parties, and find a place in their
programme. Now in any question connected with party politics the highest
interest attaches to the speeches of the party leaders, both because
they are the standard bearers in the fight, and because they are the men
who have power, or at the next turn of the wheel will have power, to
give effect to their opinions.
[Sidenote: Public Speaking now Universal.]
The platform has thus had a perfectly natural evolution. So long as
elections to the House of Commons were controlled by a small number of
persons, public speaking could be effective only occasionally, when
popular feeling could be deeply stirred over some grievance; and it was
employed chiefly by outsiders in an effort to force the hands of
Parliament. This was in part true even after 1832. But when the suffrage
was more widely extended in 1868, so that elections depended upon the
good-will of the masses, it became necessary for any one with political
aspirations to reach the public at large, and the most obvious means of
so doing was from the platform. Speeches by candidates at elections
became universal, and in order not to let the flame of loyalty burn low,
it has been increasingly common to fan it at other times, by the talking
of members to their constituents, and still more by addresses to the
whole community on the part of leaders of national reputation. Public
speaking has, therefore, become constant, without regard to the
existence of any issue of unusual prominence. James Russell Lowell long
ago made a remark to the effect that democracy is government by
declamation, and certainly household suffrage has loosened the tongues
of public men. An observer at the present day is struck by the fluency
of Englishmen upon their feet, and by the free use of humour as a means
of emphasis, instead of the sonorous phrases formerly styled oratory.
[Sidenote: The Platform has Increased the Influence of Party Leaders.]
It has now become a settled custom for the cabinet ministers and the
leaders of the parliamentary Opposition to make a business of speaking
during the late autumn and the spring recess; and the habit tends to
magnify their power, for they are the only persons who have fully the
ear of the public. Except for a few important utterances, the debates in
Parliament are not very widely read; editorials in the press are read
solely by members of one political faith; the remarks of private members
to their constituents are published only in the local papers; but public
speeches by the chief ministers, and to a less extent those by the
principal leaders of the Opposition, are printed at great length by the
newspapers of both parties, and are read everywhere.[432:1]
Moreover, the platform gives a greater freedom than the floor of the
House. The ministers do not want to bring before Parliament a policy
they are not immediately prepared to push through, nor would it be easy
to find time amid the business of a session to do so. It is not
altogether an accident, it is rather a sign of the times, that Mr.
Chamberlain broached his plan of preferential tariffs, not in
Parliament, but at a public meeting in Birmingham. It was, indeed, a
strange thing to see an ardent discussion on a most important question
conducted in public meetings and in the press, while the ministers were
striving to prevent debate upon it in the House of Commons. It was a
mark of the limitation which the course of events has placed upon
Parliament. The platform has brought the ministers face to face with the
people, and this has increased the political importance of both. Not
only is the electorate the ultimate arbiter in political matters, but
the platform has in some degree supplanted the House as the forum where
public questions are discussed.
[Sidenote: Its Benefits.]
Frequent public addresses by the men in whom the whole responsibility
for the conduct of national affairs is concentrated, and by those who
will be responsible when the next change of ministry occurs, cannot fail
to educate the voters, and quicken their interest in all the political
issues of the day. Moreover, the process is not confined to the
intermittent periods of election, but goes on all the time; and although
the practice, brought into vogue by the Anti-Corn-Law League, of joint
debates at public meetings has not taken permanent root in England, the
same result is reached in another way, because the party leaders answer
one another's speeches from different platforms, and if the listeners
are not identical, the public reads both arguments. Sir Henry Maine
spoke of the tendency to look upon politics as a "deeply interesting
game, a never-ending cricket-match between Blue and Yellow";[433:1] and
the fact that this aspect of the matter is more marked in England than
anywhere else makes English politics the most interesting, and the most
easy to follow, in the world. The rulers of the country, and those who
both have been and will be her rulers, fight at close range across a
table for six months of the year, and during the rest of the time they
carry on the ceaseless war by public speaking. As in the Athenian
democracy, the citizens witness a constant struggle among rival
statesmen for supremacy, but in England they are merely spectators until
a general election summons them to give their verdict. One can hardly
conceive of a system better calculated to stimulate interest in politics
without instability in the government.
[Sidenote: Its Perils.]
But if the platform educates the voter, it has its dangers also.
Bismarck is reported to have said that the qualities of the orator are
not only unlike, but incompatible with, those of the statesman; and
certainly the continual need of taking the public into one's confidence
is hard to reconcile with the execution of far-reaching plans for the
national welfare, for until the results are in sight, these cannot be
made intelligible to the mass of the people. The English statesman is
called upon at all times to show his hand, at the risk of seeming
disingenuous or secretive if he does not do so. His whole policy is
analysed and criticised; the seeds he plants are dug up prematurely to
see if they are sprouting. Hence he is under a strong temptation to take
a stand that will win immediately popular approval. In short, he lives
in a glass house, which is likely to mean a very respectable but rather
superficial life.
Moreover, in the custom of speaking from the platform there lurks a
danger to the system of cabinet government; for that system is based
upon the principle that the initiative in public policy rests with the
ministers, and the main issue decided at a general election is whether
the cabinet shall remain in power. Now ministers have not always been in
the habit of arranging what shall be said upon the platform with the
same care as what measures shall be brought before Parliament. But in
view of the present importance of the platform it is obvious that if the
cabinet system is to continue, the ministers must present a unanimous
front to the public as well as to Parliament; and this consideration
leads to a study of the function of party in the English political
system.
FOOTNOTES:
[425:1] The six points were: universal suffrage, annual Parliaments,
equal electoral districts, abolition of property qualification, vote by
ballot, and payment of members. Of all these demands annual Parliaments
and payment of members alone have not been substantially attained.
[425:2] "Latter Day Pamphlets: The Stump Orator," No. 5.
[426:1] _E.g._ Hans. 4 Ser. CXXXII., 1013-15; CXLI., 162.
[426:2] _Ibid._, CXXXI., 679; CXLVI., 987-89.
[426:3] _Ibid._, CXLI., 163; CXLV., 622, 627; CXLVI., 496.
[426:4] _Ibid._, CXXXII., 1005, 1019; CXLI., 122-23, 180-82.
[427:1] Cabinet ministers and the leaders of the Opposition are reported
in full in the Parliamentary Debates, and other members usually at about
two-thirds length. Macdonagh's "Book of Parliament" contains an
interesting chapter on "The Reporters' Gallery."
[427:2] Macdonagh, 315. And see an article by Alfred Kinnear, and an
answer by A. P. Nicholson in the _Contemporary Review_ for March and
April, 1905, LXXXVII., 369, 577.
[428:1] The best work on this subject is Jephson's "The Platform: Its
Rise and Progress."
[429:1] Jephson, II., 65.
[430:1] Walpole, "Life of Lord John Russell," I., 248.
[430:2] Morley, "Life of Gladstone," III., 344.
[430:3] Mr. Lecky expressed a common opinion in the introduction to the
second edition of his "Democracy and Liberty" (p. liii.), where he spoke
of Mr. Gladstone as "the first English minister who was accustomed, on a
large scale, to bring his policy in great meetings directly before the
people," adding that he "completely discarded the old tradition that a
leading minister or ex-minister should confine himself almost
exclusively to Parliamentary utterances and should only on rare
occasions address the public outside." Mr. Gladstone's power was,
indeed, due quite as much to the effect of his public speeches as to his
influence over the House of Commons.
[430:4] Quoted by Jephson, II., 391.
[432:1] Mr. Kinnear in the _Contemporary Review_ for March, 1905, says
that the demand by newspapers for public speeches by leading statesmen
has declined. They would probably have more readers, though less
hearers, if they were neither so long nor so frequent.
[433:1] "Popular Government," 149.
PART II.--THE PARTY SYSTEM
CHAPTER XXIV
PARTY AND THE PARLIAMENTARY SYSTEM
[Sidenote: Lack of a Psychology of Political Parties.]
The last generation has made great strides in the study of psychology.
The workings of the individual mind, and its reaction to every stimulus
or impression, especially under morbid conditions, have been examined
with far more care than ever before. Social psychology has also come
into view, and attempts have been made to explain the psychology of
national traits, and of abnormal or unhealthy popular movements, notably
mobs. But the normal forces that govern the ordinary conduct of men in
their public relations have scarcely received any scientific treatment
at all. In short, we are almost wholly lacking in a psychology of
political parties, the few scattered remarks in Maine's "Popular
Government" being, perhaps, still the nearest approach to such a thing
that we possess.[435:1]
[Sidenote: Although Parties are Universal.]
The absence of treatises on the subject is all the more remarkable
because the phenomena to be studied are almost universal in modern
governments that contain a popular element. Experience has, indeed,
shown that democracy in a great country, where the number of voters is
necessarily large, involves the permanent existence of political
parties; and it would not be hard to demonstrate that this must in the
nature of things be the case. That parties exist, and are likely to
continue to do so, has provoked general attention. By all statesmen they
are recognised as a factor to be reckoned with in public life; and,
indeed, efforts have been made in various places to deal with them by
law. In the United States, for example, the local caucuses, or
conventions of the parties, and their methods of nominating candidates,
have of late years been regulated by statute; while in Switzerland and
Belgium, elaborate schemes of proportional representation have been put
into operation to insure a fair share of seats to the groups in the
minority.
[Sidenote: Modern View of Parties.]
But if political parties have become well-nigh universal at the present
time, they are comparatively new in their modern form. No one in the
eighteenth century foresaw party government as it exists to-day,
enfolding the whole surface of public life in its constant ebb and flow.
An occasional man like Burke could speak of party without
condemnation;[436:1] but with most writers on political philosophy
parties were commonly called factions, and were assumed to be subversive
of good order and the public welfare. Men looked at the history with
which they were familiar; the struggles for supremacy at Athens and at
Rome; the Guelphs and Ghibelines exiling one another in the Italian
republics; the riots in the Netherlands; the civil war and the political
strife of the seventeenth century in England. It was not unnatural that
with such examples before their eyes they should have regarded parties
as fatal to the prosperity of the state. To them the idea of a party
opposed to the government was associated with a band of selfish
intriguers, or a movement that endangered the public peace and the
security of political institutions.
Foreign observers, indeed, point out that for nearly three hundred years
political parties have existed in England, as they have not in
continental countries; and that the procedure of the House of Commons
has consistently protected the Opposition in its attacks upon the
government.[437:1] This is true, and there is no doubt that even in the
seventeenth century party struggles were carried on both in Parliament
and by pamphlets and public speeches, with a freedom unknown in most
other nations; but still they were a very different thing from what they
are now. They were never far removed from violence. When the Opposition
of those days did not actually lead to bloodshed, it was perilously near
to plots and insurrection; and the fallen minister, who was driven from
power by popular feeling or the hostility of Parliament, passed under
the shadow at least of the scaffold. Danby was impeached, and
Shaftesbury, his rival, died a refugee in Holland. With the accession of
the House of Hanover, and the vanishing of the old issues, political
violence subsided. The parties degenerated into personal factions among
the ruling class; and true parties were evolved slowly by the new
problems of a later generation.
[Sidenote: "His Majesty's Opposition."]
The expression, "His Majesty's Opposition," said to have been coined by
John Cam Hobhouse before the Reform Bill,[437:2] would not have been
understood at an earlier period; and it embodies the greatest
contribution of the nineteenth century to the art of government--that of
a party out of power which is recognised as perfectly loyal to the
institutions of the state, and ready at any moment to come into office
without a shock to the political traditions of the nation. In countries
where popular control of public affairs has endured long enough to be
firmly established, an Opposition is not regarded as in its nature
unpatriotic. On the contrary, the party in power has no desire to see
the Opposition disappear. It wants to remain in power itself, and for
that reason it wants to keep a majority of the people on its side; but
it knows well that if the Opposition were to become so enfeebled as to
be no longer formidable, rifts would soon appear in its own ranks. In
the newer democracies, such as France and Italy, there are large bodies
of men whose aims are revolutionary, whose object is to change the
existing form of government, although not necessarily by violent means.
These men are termed "irreconcilables," and so long as they maintain
that attitude, quiet political life with a peaceful alternation of
parties in power is an impossibility.
[Sidenote: Conditions of Good Party Government.]
The recognition of the Opposition as a legitimate body, entitled to
attain to power by persuasion, is a primary condition of the success of
the party system, and therefore of popular government on a large scale.
Other conditions of success follow from this.
[Sidenote: Opposition must not be Revolutionary.]
If the Opposition is not to be regarded as revolutionary, its objects
must not be of that character, either in the eyes of its own adherents,
or in those of other people. As Professor Dicey has put it, parties must
be divided upon real differences, which are important, but not
fundamental. There is, of course, no self-evident line to mark off those
things that are revolutionary or fundamental; and herein lies an
incidental advantage of a written constitution restricting the
competence of the legislature, for it draws just such a line, and goes
far to confine the immediate energies of the parties to questions that
are admitted not to be revolutionary.[438:1] In the absence of a
constitution of that kind, party activity must be limited to a
conventional field, which is regarded by the public opinion of the day
as fairly within the range of practical politics. Clearly the issues
must not involve vital matters, such as life or confiscation. When,
during the progress of the French Revolution, an orator argued in favour
of the responsibility of the ministers, and added "By responsibility we
mean death," he advocated a principle inconsistent with the peaceful
alternation of parties in power.
[Sidenote: Lines of Cleavage must not be Social.]
For the same reason there is grave danger when the lines of cleavage of
the parties coincide with those between the different social classes in
the community, because one side is likely to believe that the other is
shaking the foundations of society, and passions are kindled like those
that blaze in civil war. This is true whenever the parties are separated
by any of the deeper feelings that divide mankind sharply into groups;
and especially when two or three such feelings follow the same channel.
The chief difficulty with Irish Nationalism, as a factor in English
politics, lies in the fact that to a great extent the line of cleavage
is at once racial, religious, social, and economic.
[Sidenote: Issues must be Based on Public Matters.]
In order that the warfare of parties may be not only safe, but healthy,
it must be based upon a real difference of opinion about the needs of
the community as a whole. In so far as it is waged, not for public
objects, but for the private gain, whether of individuals, or of
classes, or of collective interests, rich or poor, to that extent
politics will degenerate into a scramble of self-seekers.
[Sidenote: Relation of Parties to Political Institutions.]
Before inquiring how far these conditions have been fulfilled in England
we must consider the form that party has assumed there, and the
institutions to which it has given birth. England is, in fact, the only
large country in which the political institutions and the party system
are thoroughly in harmony.
[Sidenote: In America.]
The framers of the Constitution of the United States did not foresee the
role that party was to play in popular government,[439:1] and they made
no provision for it in their plan; yet they established a system in
which parties were a necessity. It was from the first inevitable, and
soon became clear, that the real selection of the President would not be
left to the judgment of the electoral college--a result made the more
certain, first, by providing that the members should assemble by States,
and hence should not meet together as a whole for deliberation; and
second, by excluding from the college all congressmen and holders of
federal offices, that is, all the leading men in national public
life.[440:1] If the electoral college was not really to select the
President, it must become a mere machine for registering the results of
a popular vote throughout the nation, and the candidates for the
presidency must be designated beforehand in some way.
In a small district where the voters are few, and an interchange of
opinions naturally takes place by informal conference, public officers
may be elected by popular vote without the existence of any machinery
for nomination; but in a large constituency, where the voters are not
personally acquainted with each other, men who have the same objects in
view must get together, agree upon a candidate, and recommend him to the
public. Otherwise votes will be thrown away by scattering them, and it
will be mere chance whether the result corresponds with the real wishes
of the voters or not. In short, there must be some process for
nominating candidates; that is, some party organisation; and the larger
the electorate the more imperative the need of it. Now the electorate
that practically chooses the President of the United States is by far
the largest single constituency that has ever existed in the world. It
is, in fact, noteworthy that democracy throughout Europe adheres to the
custom of dividing the country for political purposes into comparatively
small electorates; while in the United States it is the habit to make
whole communities single constituencies for the choice of their chief
magistrates--state governors or national president--a condition of
things that involves elaborate party machinery for nomination, and
hence the creation of huge party organisations on a popular basis.
The form of government in the United States has thus made parties
inevitable; and yet they were furnished with no opportunity for the
exercise of their functions by the regular organs of the state. There
were no means provided whereby a party could formulate and carry through
its policy, select its candidates for high office, or insure that they
should be treated as the real leaders of the party and able to control
its action.[441:1] The machinery of party, therefore, from the national
convention to the legislative caucus, has perforce been created outside
the framework of the government, and cannot be nicely adjusted thereto.
[Sidenote: In Continental Europe.]
The European countries, on the other hand, that have adopted the English
parliamentary system, have usually copied those features, like the
responsibility of the ministers, which were most readily perceived,
without acquiring at the same time the substructure on which the system
rests, the procedure which prevents friction, or the national traditions
which supply the motive power. The result has been that a form of
government well fitted to the great English parties has proved very
imperfectly suited to the numerous political groups that exist in most
of the continental legislatures.[441:2] In France the conditions have
indeed changed much in the last few years, the procedure has been
gradually better adapted to the parliamentary system, and the
ministries have gained in stability; but as yet the difficulties are by
no means overcome. In some of the smaller countries, such as Belgium and
Switzerland, the organs of government and the system of parties are less
inconsistent; in Belgium because she followed British precedents more
faithfully; in Switzerland because she was enabled by her small size,
coupled with a federal structure, to create a novel polity of her own,
in which parties are given no constitutional sphere of action, and play
an unusually subordinate part. In none of these countries, however, is
the form of government so fully consonant with the party system as it is
in Great Britain.
[Sidenote: English Parliamentary System Grew out of Parties.]
In England the party system is no more in accord with the strictly legal
institutions, with King, Lords and Commons, than it is elsewhere; but it
is in absolute harmony with those conventions, which, although quite
unknown to the law, make up the actual working constitution of the
state. It is in harmony with them because they were created by the
warfare of parties, were evolved out of party life. Government by a
responsible ministry was not the inevitable consequence of the long
struggle between the House of Commons and the Crown. Some other means
might very well have been devised for taking the executive power out of
the personal control of the King. It was rather the result of the
condition of the House itself; for it is inconceivable that this form of
government should have appeared if Parliament had not been divided into
Whigs and Tories. In fact the whole plan would be senseless if parties
did not exist. The reason for the resignation of a ministry upon the
rejection of a measure it has proposed is that the defeat indicates a
general loss of confidence in the policy of the party in power, and the
preference for another body of leaders with a different policy. If this
were not so, the Swiss practice of remaining in office, but yielding on
the point at issue, would be far more sensible. The parliamentary system
is thus a rational expression of the division of the ruling chamber into
two parties.
[Sidenote: It has Made Parties Stronger.]
Neither the parliamentary system nor the party system, neither the
responsibility of ministers to the House of Commons nor the permanent
division into two parties, grew up in a day. Throughout the eighteenth
century the principle of cabinet responsibility was but dimly
recognised; while parties at times disintegrated, and the wheels of
government were kept going by means of corruption, which has served in
all ages as a lubricant for ill-adjusted political machinery. But little
by little, with halting steps, the rivalry of parties built up the
responsibility of ministers, and this in turn helped to perpetuate the
party divisions; for the parliamentary system, like every rational form
of government, reacts upon and strengthens the conditions of its own
existence. It is based upon party, and by the law of its nature tends to
accentuate party. Ministers perceived that their security depended upon
standing together, presenting a united front, and prevailing upon their
friends to do the same. The leaders of the Opposition learned also that
their chance of attaining to power was improved by pursuing a similar
course. In this way two parties are arrayed against one another
continually, while every member of Parliament finds himself powerfully
drawn to enlist under one banner or the other, and follow it on all
occasions. He cannot consider measures simply on their merits, but must
take into account the ultimate effect of his vote. As soon as men
recognise that the defeat of a government bill means a change of
ministry, the pressure is great to sacrifice personal opinions on that
bill to the greater principles for which the party stands; and the more
fully the system develops, the clearer becomes the incompatibility
between voting as the member of Parliament pleases on particular
measures, and maintaining in power the party he approves. In short, the
action of the House of Commons has tended to become more and more party
action, with the ministers, as we have already seen, gradually drawing
the initiative in legislation, and the control over procedure, more and
more into their own hands.
[Sidenote: It is Government by Party.]
The English government is builded as a city that is in unity with
itself, and party is an integral part of the fabric. Party works,
therefore, inside, instead of outside, the regular political
institutions. In fact, so far as Parliament is concerned, the machinery
of party and of government are not merely in accord; they are one and
the same thing. The party cabal has become the Treasury Bench. The
ministers are the party chiefs, selected not artificially but by natural
prominence, and the majority in the House of Commons, which legislates,
appropriates money, supervises and controls the administration, and
sustains or discards ministers, is the party itself acting under the
guidance of those chiefs. The parliamentary system, as it has grown up
spontaneously in England, is in its origin and nature government by
party, sanctioned and refined by custom. In that respect it differs, not
only from national political systems elsewhere, but also from British
local government. This last is not an outgrowth of party, but, like most
of the existing popular institutions in other countries, was designed,
not evolved. In it, as we shall see hereafter, party has no organic
connection with the ruling bodies, and has not the same controlling
authority as in national affairs.
[Sidenote: It can Thrive only with Two Parties.]
If the existence of a responsible ministry normally involves government
by party, it also requires as a condition of success that there shall be
only two parties. The ills that have flowed from the subdivision of the
French, the Italian and other parliaments, into a number of groups are
now an oft-told tale. The consequences there are very different from
those that occur where the executive is not responsible to the
legislature. In this last case the presence of several groups may result
in the election of a president, a council or an assembly, representing a
minority of the voters, and if so the popular will may not be truly
expressed. Yet the government will go on unshaken until the next
periodic election. But with similar conditions under the parliamentary
system the administration itself will be weak, its position unstable,
its tenure of office dependent upon the pleasure of a group that may be
ready to sacrifice everything else for a single object. Parnell was
quite right in his reckoning that if he could keep the Home Rulers
together until they held the balance of power in the House, one or other
of the great parties must make terms with them, or parliamentary
government would be unworkable.
[Sidenote: Opposition not Entirely Genuine.]
In the English system the initiative in most matters of importance has
come into the hands of the cabinet ministers, as the representatives and
leaders of the predominant party. It is their business to propose, and
it is the business of the Opposition to oppose. But the attitude of the
latter is not quite spontaneous. On rare occasions it congratulates the
government upon some action, which it supports heartily. More commonly
it seeks to criticise everything, to find all imaginable faults.
Impotent to legislate, it tries to prevent the majority from doing so;
not content with expressing its views and registering a protest, it
raises the same objections at every stage in the passage of a bill; and
sometimes strives to delay and even to destroy measures which it would
itself enact if in power. Its immediate object is, in fact, to discredit
the cabinet. Now this sounds mischievous, and would be so were
Parliament the ultimate political authority. But the parties are really
in the position of barristers arguing a case before a jury, that jury
being the national electorate; and experience has shown, contrary to the
prepossessions of non-professional legal reformers in all ages, that the
best method of attaining justice is to have a strong advocate argue on
each side before an impartial umpire. Unfortunately the jurymen in this
case are not impartial, and the arguments are largely addressed to their
interests, but that is a difficulty inseparable from democracy, or,
indeed, from any form of government.
[Sidenote: Waste of Capacity.]
Another result of party government that is constantly decried is the
waste of capacity it involves. Why, it is asked, should an excellent
administrator leave his post, because some measure quite unconnected
with his department--a measure, it may be, that he has himself opposed
in the cabinet--is rejected by the House of Commons? Such a system
interferes with that continuity of policy which is often essential to
success both in foreign and internal affairs, and this is, no doubt, an
evil; but owing to the presence of a highly trained body of permanent
officials, who carry on the traditions and largely control the policy of
the departments, it is not so important in England as one might suppose.
The system also debars one half of the talent in public life from the
service of the state; but this misfortune is one that, for one reason or
another, has existed to some extent in all countries at all times. The
idea of a state where all the ablest men in the land join, without
regard to political opinions, to devote the best of their talents to the
public service, is enchanting, but it has never been permanently
realised anywhere.
[Sidenote: Issues not Decided solely on their Merits.]
Another criticism levelled at party government in England arises from
the impossibility of supporting the party in power on one issue and
opposing it on another. A voter at the last election who objected
strongly to any change in fiscal policy, and equally strongly to any
concessions on the subject of Home Rule, found himself on the horns of a
dilemma. He was compelled to make up his mind which issue he thought
most important, and trust to Providence about the other. In a party
government, where the cabinet must resign if any of its vital measures
are rejected, those measures cannot be considered by individuals on
their merits. The policy of one party or the other must be supported as
a whole. This is certainly a limitation on personal freedom of action,
and it acts as a restraint just to the extent that the government is
conducted strictly on party lines. The party system certainly involves
compromise of opinion; but then there is some compromise required for
the enactment of every public measure, whether parties exist or not, for
it never happens that the legislators who vote for any bill are all
perfectly satisfied with every one of its clauses.
Government by party is not an ideal regimen. Like everything else it
contains both good and evil. A political organisation, indeed, that
avoided all strife and all waste would certainly be impossible, and
would probably, by relaxing effort and sapping the springs of human
nature, prove undesirable. As yet it is too early to strike a final
balance between the merits and the defects of the party system in
England, and it would be hopeless to attempt it here. Both good and evil
will appear more fully as we proceed.
FOOTNOTES:
[435:1] Rohmer's _Lehre von den politischen Parteien_, which attempts to
explain the division into parties by natural differences of temperament
corresponding to the four periods of man's life, is highly suggestive,
but is rather philosophic than psychological; and like most
philosophical treatises on political subjects it is based upon the
writer's own time and place rather than upon a study of human nature
under different conditions.
[436:1] In his oft-quoted, but very brief, remarks in the "Observations
on 'The Present State of the Nation,'" and "Thoughts on the Cause of the
Present Discontents." But twenty-five years later in a letter to Richard
Burke he falls into the current talk about the evils of domination by a
faction.
[437:1] _E.g._ Redlich, _Recht und Technik_, 74-79.
[437:2] _Cf._ Review of his unpublished "Recollections of a Long Life,"
in the _Edinburgh Review_, April, 1871, p. 301.
[438:1] Neither in France nor in Italy does the constitution really
perform that service; because in each case it does little more than fix
the framework of the government, without placing an effective restraint
upon legislative action; and because the constitution itself is not felt
to be morally binding by the irreconcilables.
[439:1] For the views of these men on the relation of parties or
"factions" to public life see "The Federalist," No. 10, written by
Madison.
[440:1] Professor Max Farrand has pointed out to me that the question of
having the electors for the whole country meet in one place was
discussed in the Constitutional Convention, and was rejected in favour
of the present plan, because under the latter, "As the Electors would
vote at the same time throughout the U.S. and at so great a distance
from each other, the great evil of cabal was avoided." G. Hunt's
"Writings of Madison," IV., 365-66. Cabal had a vague and spectral
meaning, but covered anything in the nature of party. The exclusion from
the electoral college of members of Congress and federal office-holders
was defended on the same ground. _Cf._ "The Federalist," No. 68.
[441:1] In his "Rise and Growth of American Politics," a book full of
penetrating suggestions, Mr. Henry Jones Ford has argued that party
exists in America in order to bring about an accord among public bodies
that were made independent by the Constitution; to force into harmonious
action the various representatives of the people. Professor Goodnow
develops the same idea from a different standpoint in his "Politics and
Administration." But, especially in view of the comparatively small
accord among public bodies, or harmonious action of the public
representatives, and the enormous influence of parties in elections, it
seems to the writer more correct to say that parties in America exist
mainly for the selection of candidates.
[441:2] This subject is treated in Dupriez's admirable work _Les
Ministres_, in Bodley's "France," and in the writer's "Governments and
Parties in Continental Europe."
CHAPTER XXV
PARTY ORGANISATION IN PARLIAMENT
[Sidenote: The Need of Whips.]
In every legislative body a vote is supposed to express the sense of the
House, and there is a universal fiction that all the members are
constantly present; but this is often far from being the fact; and it
always behooves any one interested in a particular matter to expend no
small amount of labour in making sure that those persons who agree with
him are on hand when the decisive moment comes. All this applies with
peculiar force to the House of Commons; for not only the fate of the
particular measure under consideration, but the very life of the
ministry itself, may depend upon a single division; and it is the more
true because the average attendance, while a debate is going on, is
unusually small. When the division bell rings, two minutes are, indeed,
given for the members to rush in from the lobbies, the library, the
smoking and dining rooms, and the terrace, yet the government cannot
trust to luck for the presence of enough of its followers in the
precincts of the House to make up a majority. There must be someone
whose duty it is to see that they are within call.
[Sidenote: Who They Are.]
The duty of keeping the members of a party on hand is performed by the
whips, whose name is abbreviated from the men who act as whippers-in at
a fox-hunt. They are all members of the House, and those on the
government side receive salaries from the public purse on the theory
that it is their business to "keep a house" during supply; that is, to
insure the presence of a quorum, so that the appropriations may be
voted. The chief government whip holds the office of Parliamentary
Secretary to the Treasury, with a salary of 2000_l._ Formerly he was
often called simply the Secretary of the Treasury--an expression
occasionally confusing to the readers of books written a generation ago.
He is sometimes called, also, Patronage Secretary of the Treasury; and
in old times no small part of his functions consisted in distributing
patronage, in the days when it was freely employed to secure the support
of members of Parliament. In fact he is still a channel for the
disposition of such minor patronage as remains in the gift of the Prime
Minister, including the creation of lesser titles. He is assisted by
three other members, who hold the office of Junior Lords of the
Treasury, with the salary of 1000_l._ apiece.[449:1] As has already been
explained, the Treasury Board never meets, so that the duties of the
Junior Lords are to-day almost entirely confined to acting as whips;
and, to enable them to do that more effectively, one of them is always a
Scotch member. The position of whip is one of great importance, but it
entails some sacrifices, for by custom the whips take no part in debate,
and although their work is felt throughout the House, it is little seen
by the public. The chief whip, however, is often given afterwards a
position in the ministry, or otherwise rewarded.
The Opposition also has its whips, usually three in number, whose
position is important; though not so important as that of the government
whips, because while a failure to have the full strength of the party
present may be unfortunate, it cannot, as in the case of the government,
be disastrous. Naturally the Opposition whips have no salaries, but they
are sustained by the hope that their turn will come.
[Sidenote: Duties of the Whips.]
The government whips act as the aides-de-camp, and intelligence
department, of the leader of the House. In the former capacity they
arrange for him with the whips on the other side those matters in which
it is a convenience to have an understanding. The membership of select
committees, for example, is generally settled between the chief whips
on the two sides of the House; and the time when the test vote on some
great measure will take place is usually arranged beforehand in the same
way.
[Sidenote: They bring in the Members.]
When an important division is likely to occur, each side musters its
whole force for a great trial of strength; and not only the majority,
but the size of the majority, is a matter of importance to the
ministers, for it shows how completely they can depend upon the support
of their followers. But it is not on vital questions alone that the
government must avoid being beaten, because a defeat, even though not
such a one as would cause resignation, nevertheless weakens to some
extent the credit of the cabinet. It gives the public the impression
that the ministers are losing popularity; either that their followers
are becoming rebellious and voting against them, or, at least, that they
are so far indifferent or disaffected as to stay away. Nothing succeeds
like success; and it is a maxim in politics as well as in war that one
must maintain a reputation for being invincible. Any defeat of the
government always causes cheers of triumph among the Opposition; and
especially of late years, when defeats have become more rare, it is a
thing that requires explanation.
The whips must, therefore, always keep a majority within sound of the
division bell whenever any business that may affect the government is
under consideration. For this purpose they are in the habit of sending
out almost every day to all their supporters lithographed notices
stating that a vote on such and such a matter is likely to come on, and
requesting the attendance of the member. These notices are underscored,
in accordance with the importance of attendance, from a single line,
meaning that the whip desires the member's attendance, to four lines, or
a couple of very thick lines, which mean "come on pain of being thought
a deserter." In fact the receipt of messages of this kind is the test of
party membership. In 1844 a correspondence on the subject took place
between Peel and Disraeli shortly before the final breach occurred.
Disraeli, who had been criticising the policy of the government in
Ireland and Servia, was not sent the usual whips, and protested on the
ground that he had not ceased to be a member of the party.[451:1]
All this is not so important in the case of the Opposition; for, the
consequences of being caught napping are not so serious. It is enough
for them to summon their full force from time to time, when a good
chance for a large vote occurs. The proceedings of their whips,
therefore, though generally the same, are somewhat less systematic.
[Sidenote: They must Know that the Members are Present.]
[Sidenote: Snap Votes.]
The whips act also as an intelligence department for the government
leader. It is their business not only to summon the members of the party
to the House, but to know that they are there. By the door leading to
the coat room, through which the members ordinarily enter the House from
Palace Yard, there are seats; and here may always be seen one of the
government whips, and often one from the Opposition. Each of them takes
note of every member who goes in and out, sometimes remonstrating with
him if he is leaving without sufficient reason. By this means the whip
is expected to be able, at any moment, to tell just how large a majority
the government has within the precincts of the House; and on the most
important divisions the whip sees that every member of the party, who is
well, is either present or paired. Of course, the same thoroughness
cannot be attained on smaller questions; and although the government
whip tries to have constantly on hand more members of his own party than
of the Opposition, it is not always possible to do so. He may have
expected a vote to take place at a given hour, and sent out a notice to
every one to be present at that time, and the debate may suddenly show
signs of coming to an end earlier. In that case it is usually possible
to get some member of the government to talk against time while the
needed members are fetched in. At times even this resource fails, and
the government is occasionally defeated on what is known as "a snap
vote."
[Sidenote: That of 1895.]
Humorous anecdotes are told of frantic attempts to bring in the members,
and of practical jokes in trying to prevent it;[452:1] but the only one
of these cases that led to serious results occurred in 1895. The Liberal
government had been desperately clinging for life to a small majority of
about a dozen, when there came on for debate a motion to reduce the
salary of the Secretary of State for War, made in order to draw
attention to an alleged lack of cordite. The whips sitting by the
regular entrance of the House had in their tally the usual majority for
the government; but a score of Tories had gone from the Palace Yard
directly to the terrace, without passing through the ordinary coat-room
entrance. When the division bell rang they came straight from the
terrace to the House, and to the surprise no less of the tellers than of
every one else, the government was defeated by a few votes. This was
clearly a "snap" division, which would not ordinarily have been treated
as showing a lack of confidence in the ministry. But the time comes when
a tired man in the sea would rather drown than cling longer; and that
was the position of Lord Rosebery's government.
[Sidenote: Whips must Know the Temper of the Party.]
The whips keep in constant touch with the members of their party. It is
their business to detect the least sign of disaffection or discontent;
to know the disposition of every member of the party on every measure of
importance to the ministry, reporting it constantly to their chief. A
member of the party, indeed, who feels that he cannot vote for a
government measure, or that he must vote for an amendment to it, is
expected to notify the whip. If there are few men in that position, so
that the majority of the government is ample, and the result is not in
danger, the whip will make no objection. A novice in the strangers'
gallery, who hears three or four men on the government side attack one
of its measures vigorously, sometimes thinks that there is a serious
risk of defeat; but if he watched the countenance of the chief whip on
the extreme end of the Treasury Bench, he would see no sign of anxiety,
and when the division takes place the majority of the government is
about the normal size. The fact is that the whip has known all along
just how many men behind him would vote against the government, just how
many would stay away, and that it really made no difference.
[Sidenote: Methods of Pressure on Members.]
[Sidenote: Fear of Dissolution.]
If, on the other hand, the majority of the government is narrow, or the
number of refractory members is considerable, the whip will try to
reason with them; and in a crisis, where a hostile vote will be followed
by a dissolution, or by a resignation of the ministry which involves, of
course, a dissolution, his reasoning is likely to be effective; for no
member wants to face unnecessarily the expense of a general election, or
the risk of losing his seat. The strength of motives of this kind
naturally depends very much upon his tenure of the seat. If, as
sometimes happens, he is the only member of the party who has a good
chance of carrying the seat, or if his local or personal influence there
is so strong that he is certain to carry it, he will hold a position of
more than usual independence. But this is rarely the case.
[Sidenote: Action of Constituents.]
Nor is the fear of dissolution the only means by which pressure can be
brought to bear upon a member who strays too far from the party fold.
His constituents, or the local party association--which for this purpose
is much the same thing--can be relied upon to do something. Any direct
attempt by the whips to bring pressure upon a member through his
constituents would be likely to irritate, and do more harm than good.
But it is easy enough, in various ways, to let the constituents know
that the member is not thoroughly supporting his party; and unless his
vote against the government is cast in the interest of the constituents
themselves, they are not likely to have much sympathy with his
independence.
[Sidenote: Social Influence.]
Another means of pressure is found in social influence, which counts for
much in English public life; and for that reason it is considered
important to have as chief whip a man of high social standing as well as
of pleasant manners and general popularity. The power of social
influence has always been great in England, more particularly among the
Conservatives. In 1853, Disraeli, who was trying hard to build up the
Tory party, and had at the time little else to build it with, urged the
importance of Lord Derby's asking all his followers in Parliament to
dinner in the course of the session.[454:1] Nor does the use of
influence of this kind appear to have declined. It has been said of late
years that if a Unionist did not vote with his party, he was not invited
to the functions at the Foreign Office; and the weakness of the Liberals
for nearly a score of years after the split over Home Rule was due in no
small part to the fact that they had very little social influence at
their command. A sudden political conversion some years ago was
attributed to disappointment of the member at the small number of
invitations received through Liberal connections; and the change of
faith no doubt met its reward, for it was followed in time by
knighthood.
[Sidenote: Payment of Election Expenses.]
Finally the whips have, upon a certain number of members, a claim
arising from gratitude. Elections are expensive for the candidate, and
it is not always easy to find a man who is ready to incur the needful
cost and trouble, especially when the chance of success is not large.
Under these conditions the central office of the party, which is under
the control of the leaders and the whip, will often contribute toward a
candidate's expenses. It is done most frequently in well-nigh hopeless
constituencies, and therefore the proportion of men who have received
such aid is much greater among defeated than among elected candidates;
although the cases are by no means confined to the former class. How
often aid is given, and in what cases it is given, is never known, for
the whip naturally keeps his own counsel about the matter; but the
number of members on each side of the House, a part of whose election
expenses have been paid from the party treasury, is not inconsiderable.
Upon these men the whips have, of course, a strong claim which can be
used to secure their attendance and votes when needed.
If all the means of pressure which the whips can bring to bear are
unavailing, and the supporters of the government who propose to vote
against it are enough to turn the scale, or if the whips report that the
dissatisfaction is widespread, the cabinet will, if possible, modify its
position. This is said to have been the real cause of the apparent
surrender of the Liberal ministry to the demands of the Labour Party
upon the bill to regulate the liability of trade unions in 1906. The
whips found that many of their own followers had pledged themselves so
deeply that they could not support the government bill as it stood.
[Sidenote: The Whips as Tellers.]
When the government is interested in the result of a vote, it informs
the Speaker that it would like its whips appointed tellers in the
division, a suggestion with which he always complies. This is the sign
that the ministers are calling for the support of all their followers,
and that the division is to be upon party lines. Often in the course of
a debate upon some amendment to a government bill, one hears a member,
rising behind the Treasury Bench, appeal to the leader of the House not
to put pressure upon his supporters on that question. He means that the
government whips shall not be made the tellers, in which case each
member is free to vote as he thinks best without a breach of party
loyalty, and the result, whatever it may be, is not regarded as a defeat
for the cabinet. Occasionally this is done, but not often; because on
the question so treated the government, in abandoning its leadership, is
exposed to a charge of weakness; and also because it is unsafe to do it
unless the ministers are quite indifferent about the result, for the
effect of the pressure on the votes of many members is very great.
[Sidenote: No Other Party Machinery in Parliament.]
The whips may be said to constitute the only regular party organisation
in the House of Commons, unless we include under that description the
two front benches. The very fact, indeed, that the ministry and the
leaders of the Opposition furnish in themselves the real party machinery
of the House, avoids the need of any other. The ministers prepare and
carry out the programme of the party in power, while a small coterie of
leaders on the other side devise the plans for opposing them. The front
bench thus does the work of a party committee or council, and in neither
of the great parties is there anything resembling a general caucus for
the discussion and determination of party policy. Sometimes a great
meeting of the adherents of the party in Parliament is called at one of
the political clubs or elsewhere, when the leaders address their
followers. But it is held to exhort, not to consult; and, in fact,
surprise is sometimes expressed by private members that the chiefs take
them so little into their confidence.[456:1]
The organisation of the two great parties in Parliament has almost a
military character, with the cabinet as the general staff, and the
leader of the House as the commander in the field. This is naturally far
less true of lesser groups, which have not the tradition of cabinet
leadership to keep them in line. In their case a real caucus of the
party, to consider the position it shall assume in a crisis, is not
unknown. Two particularly celebrated meetings of that kind took place
within a few years of each other: one held by the Liberal Unionists
before the vote on the Home Rule Bill in 1886; the other the meeting of
the Irish Nationalists which deposed Parnell from the leadership of the
party in 1890.
A caucus of one of the two great parties has occasionally been held to
select a leader in the House, in those rare cases where it has found
itself in Opposition without a chief. This happened, for example, in
1899, when the post of leader having been left vacant by the retirement
of Sir William Harcourt therefrom in the preceding December, the Liberal
members of the House met on the day before the opening of the session,
and chose Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman to succeed him. Sir Henry
thenceforward led the party in the Commons, and became, in due course,
Prime Minister, when the Liberals came to power in 1905. Except,
however, for an accident of that sort, neither of the two great parties
has any machinery for choosing its chiefs, or deciding upon its course
of action. The leaders, and when the party comes to power the ministers,
are, no doubt, indirectly selected by the party itself, for they are the
men who have shown themselves able to win its confidence, and command
its support. But the choice is not made by any formal vote; nor is it
always precisely such as would result from a vote. The Prime Minister,
if not himself in the Commons, appoints the leader of the House and his
principal lieutenants, being guided in the choice by his own estimate of
their hold upon the party, and by the advice of the other chiefs. When
appointed, the leader leads, and the party follows.
FOOTNOTES:
[449:1] Formerly the Parliamentary Groom in Waiting acted also as a
whip; but the office was abolished in 1892.
[451:1] Parker, "Sir Robert Peel," III., 144-47.
[452:1] Macdonagh, "Book of Parliament," 372-78.
[454:1] Malmesbury, "Memoirs of an Ex-Minister," I., 382.
[456:1] See, for example, Sir Richard Temple, "Life in Parliament," and
especially pp. 39-40.
CHAPTER XXVI
NON-PARTY ORGANISATIONS OUTSIDE OF PARLIAMENT
[Sidenote: Different Kinds of Political Organisations.]
The political organisations outside the walls of Parliament may, for
convenience, be classified under four heads; although the groups so set
apart are not always perfectly distinct, and a particular organisation
is sometimes on the border line between two different groups. These four
heads are:--
1. Non-party organisations, whose object is to carry into effect some
one project or line of policy, but not to obtain control of the general
government, or to act as an independent political group in the House of
Commons.
2. Local party organisations, each confined to one locality, whose
primary object is to nominate party candidates and carry the elections
in that place, although they may incidentally bring their influence to
bear on the national policy of the party.
3. National party organisations, whose object is to propagate the
principles of the party, to aid in carrying the elections throughout the
country, and also to formulate and control to a greater or less extent
the national party policy. Of the organisations formed for such a
purpose, the most famous was early dubbed by its foes the "Caucus," and
under that title the career of these bodies on the Liberal and the
Conservative side will be described in Chapters XXIX. and XXX., the
Labour Party being treated in a later chapter by itself.
4. Ancillary party organisations. These are handmaids to the party,
which make no pretence of trying to direct its policy, but confine
themselves to the work of extending its popularity, promoting its
interests, and preparing the way for its success at the polls. They will
be discussed hereafter, but a few words must be said here about the most
important of them all, because without a knowledge of its character, the
history of the caucus, with which it has come into contact, can hardly
be understood. It is the central association, or central office, of the
party, composed of paid officials and agents, with or without the help
of a group of wealthy and influential men. It raises and disburses the
campaign funds of the party, and takes charge of general electioneering
interests; but it always acts in close concert with the party leaders
and the whips, and is, in fact, under their immediate direction and
control. The central office is thus a branch of the whip's office, which
attends to the work outside of Parliament, and it is really managed by a
principal agent or secretary directly responsible to the parliamentary
chiefs.
[Sidenote: They are Distinct from the Organs of State.]
Unlike the instruments of party inside of Parliament, all of these four
classes of exterior political organisation are wholly unconnected with
the constitutional organs of government; save that the central office is
directed by the whip. Outside of Parliament, as in the United States,
the organisation of parties is artificial or voluntary, that is, the
mechanism stands quite apart from that of the state, and its effect
thereon is from without, not from within. From this fact have flowed
important consequences that will be noted hereafter.
[Sidenote: The Non-Party Organisations.]
Among the different kinds of political organisation those here called
non-partisan are by far the oldest. Yet the term itself may be
misleading. It does not mean that they have confined their efforts to
cultivating an abstract public opinion in favour of their dogmas, for
they have often sought to elect to Parliament men who would advocate
them there. Nor does it mean that they have had no connection with the
existing parties, for sometimes one of the parties has countenanced and
supported their views, and in that case they have thrown their influence
in favour of the candidates of that party. The term is used simply to
denote a body whose primary object is not to achieve victory for a
regular political party. Curiously enough, such a group of persons often
comes nearer than the great parties of the present day to Burke's
definition of party as "a body of men united for promoting by their
joint endeavours the national interest upon some particular principle in
which they are all agreed." For each of the leading parties includes men
who are not wholly at one in their principles. Party aims are
complicated and confused, and are attained only by a series of
compromises, in which the ultimate principle is sometimes obscured by
the means employed to reach it. A party in modern parliamentary
government would be more accurately defined as a body of men united by
the intent of sustaining a common ministry.
[Sidenote: Their Early History.]
Various organisations of the kind termed here "non-partisan" arose
during the latter part of the eighteenth century. The first of these of
any great importance appears to have been the Society for Supporting the
Bill of Rights, founded in 1769 to assist Wilkes in his controversy with
the House of Commons, and in general to maintain the public liberties
and demand an extension of the popular element in the constitution.
Finding that the society was used to promote the personal ambition of
Wilkes, some of the leading members withdrew, and founded the
Constitutional Society with the same objects. Ten years later county
associations were formed, and conventions composed of delegates
therefrom met in London in 1780 and 1781 to petition for the redress of
public grievances. Other societies were established about the same time,
and they were not always of a radical character. The Protestant
Association, for example, was formed under the lead of Lord George
Gordon to maintain the disabilities of the Roman Catholics, and brought
about the riots of June, 1780, which are still called by his name.
The political societies of those days were short-lived, and most of them
died soon; but the outbreak of the French Revolution sowed the seed for
a fresh crop. In 1791 the working classes of the metropolis organised
the London Corresponding Society, and the next year men of less extreme
views founded the Society of the Friends of the People to promote
moderate reform. Whether radical or moderate, however, associations of
that kind could not live in those troublous times. The repulsion and
alarm provoked by the course of events in France were too strong to be
resisted, and a number of repressive statutes were passed to break them
up. First came an Act of 1794 to suspend the writ of habeas corpus, then
in the following session another to prevent seditious meetings, and,
finally, a statute of 1799, which suppressed the London Corresponding
Society by name, and any others that were organised with branches. These
acts and a series of prosecutions drove out of existence all the
societies aiming at political reform; and during a few years, while the
struggle with France was at its height, the course of domestic politics
was unvexed by such movements. But the distress that followed the wars
of Napoleon caused another resort to associations, which was again met
by hostile legislation.
[Sidenote: The Catholic Association, and Movements for Reform.]
The repressive statutes were, however, temporary, and when the last of
them expired in 1825, the way for popular organisations was again free.
The Catholic Association had already been formed in Ireland to procure
the removal of religious disabilities, and just as it disbanded, with
its object won, in 1829, the shadow of the coming Reform Act brought
forth a number of new political societies in England. In that very year
Thomas Atwood founded at Birmingham the Political Union for the
Protection of Public Rights, with the object of promoting parliamentary
reform; and after the introduction of the Reform Bill similar unions,
formed to support it, sprang up all over the country. An attempt was
even made to affiliate them together in a great national organisation;
but the government declared the plan illegal, and it was abandoned.
Among the most interesting of the societies of this kind were those
organised in London. Here, in 1831, the National Union of the Working
Classes was founded by artisans, disciples of Robert Owen, commonly
known as the "Rotundanists," from the name of the hall where their
meetings were held. But Francis Place, the tailor, a notable figure in
the agitations of the day, had no sympathy with the socialistic ideas of
these men, and dreaded the effect of their society upon the fate of the
Reform Bill. He had a much keener insight into the real situation, and
started as a counterstroke the National Political Union, with the sole
object of supplying in London the popular impulse needed, in his
opinion, to push the measure through.[462:1] The Bill was no sooner
passed than the many associations, which had been founded upon a union
of the middle and lower classes to effect a particular reform, began to
die out.
[Sidenote: The Anti-Slavery Societies.]
Meanwhile two successive organisations of a non-partisan, and, indeed,
of a non-political, character, had been carrying a purely humanitarian
movement to a triumphant end. The Committee for the Abolition of the
Slave Trade was formed in 1787, and strove, by the collection of
evidence, by petitions, pamphlets and corresponding local committees, to
enlighten public opinion and persuade Parliament. After working for a
score of years, supported by the tireless efforts of Wilberforce in the
House of Commons, it prevailed at last upon Parliament to suppress the
slave-trade by the Acts of 1806 and 1807. Sixteen years thereafter the
Anti-Slavery Society was formed to urge the entire abolition of slavery
throughout the British dominions, and this it brought about in 1833, the
strength of its advocates in the Commons, backed by popular agitation
outside, being great enough to compel Lord Grey's government to bring in
a bill for the purpose.[462:2]
[Sidenote: Non-Party Organisations after 1832.]
[Sidenote: The Chartists.]
Since 1832 the non-party organisations have been, on the whole, more
permanent, and more widely extended than before; and, with some marked
exceptions like that of the Chartists, they have tended to rely less
upon a display of physical force, and more upon appeals to the
electorate--a change following naturally enough upon the enlargement of
the franchise. Chartism developed out of a large number of separate
local organisations of workingmen, who realised that they had gained no
political power from the Reform Act, and demanded a reform of Parliament
in a really democratic spirit. The movement took its name from the
People's Charter, with its six points, published in 1838 by the London
Working Men's Association. To this the various local bodies adhered,
sending the next year delegates to a great People's Parliament in
London. But the violence of the language used by the Chartists opened a
door for prosecution; the leaders became frightened, and for the moment
the agitation lost its force. In 1840 it was reorganised, and was
supported by several hundred affiliated bodies. From first to last,
however, it was weakened by dissensions among the leaders, relating both
to the methods of operation and to subordinate issues. The movement
culminated in 1848, in the mass meeting on Kennington Common, which was
to form in procession, and present a mammoth petition to Parliament. The
plan had caused grave anxiety; troops were brought up, thousands of
special constables were sworn in; but at the last minute Feargus
O'Connor, the leader of the Chartists, lost his nerve, and gave up the
procession. The great demonstration was a fiasco, and soon after the
whole movement collapsed.
[Sidenote: The Anti-Corn-Law League.]
One of the many reasons for the failure of Chartism was the existence at
the same time of the most successful non-partisan organisation that
England has ever known, the Anti-Corn-Law League. This, like the
Anti-Slavery Association of an earlier day, was formed to advocate a
single specific reform, and to its steadfast fidelity to that principle
its success was largely due. It excluded rigidly all questions of party
politics, and in fact its most prominent leader, Cobden, always retained
a profound distrust of both parties. The reform embodied, however, in
the eyes of its votaries, both an economic and a moral principle, so
that they were able to appeal at the same time to the pocket and the
conscience of the nation--a combination that goaded Carlyle into his
reference to Cobden as an inspired bagman preaching a calico millennium.
As the League appealed to more than one motive, so it used freely more
than one means of making the appeal. After a number of local
associations had been formed, a meeting of delegates from these, held in
1839, founded the League, which proceeded to organise branches all over
the country, sent forth speakers and lecturers, worked the press,
collected information, issued pamphlets by the ton, petitioned
Parliament, and strove to elect candidates who would support its views.
All this was done upon a huge scale with indefatigable energy. The
movement derived its force from the middle-class manufacturers, but they
strained every nerve to indoctrinate the working classes in the cities,
and later the rural population, until at last public opinion was so far
won that the crisis caused by the failure of the Irish potato crop
brought about the repeal of the Corn Laws in 1846. The League had done
its work and dissolved.
[Sidenote: Other Non-Partisan Associations.]
There have been, and still are, a large number of other associations of
a non-partisan character, which bestir themselves about some political
question. Often they exist in pairs to advocate opposing views, like the
Marriage Law Reform Association, and the Marriage Law Defence Union, the
Imperial Vaccination League, and the National Anti-Vaccination League.
These associations are of many different kinds. Some of them are
organised for other objects, concerning themselves with legislation only
incidentally, and taking no part at elections, like the Association of
Chambers of Commerce, and the Association of Municipal Corporations.
Some exist primarily for other purposes, but are very active in
politics, like certain of the trade unions;[464:1] others are formed
solely for the diffusion of political doctrines, but generally abstain
from direct electoral work, like the Fabian Society, with its socialist
ideals; and, finally, there are organisations which, although not
primarily partisan, in fact exert themselves vigorously to help the
candidates of one of the great parties. To the last class belongs the
Liberation Society, formerly very active in urging the disestablishment
of the Church, and throwing its influence in favour of the Liberals; and
also its opponent, the Committee for Church Defence, equally strong on
the side of the Conservatives. More active than either of them at the
present day is the Free Church Federation, which has been brought into
the political arena by its repugnance to the Education Act of 1902. In
the same category must be placed the National Trade Defence Association,
an organisation formed by the liquor dealers to resist temperance
legislation, and perhaps Mr. Chamberlain's recent Tariff Reform League,
both of which support the Tories. It so happens that the societies that
oppose the last two bodies are not so consistently devoted to the
Liberals. Then there are societies of another type formed for a
transitory purpose in foreign affairs: such as the Eastern Question
Association of 1876, which opposed Disraeli's Turkish policy, and the
present Balkan Committee working for freedom in Macedonia.
All associations that attempt to influence elections are in the habit of
catechising the candidates and publishing their answers, sometimes
producing a decided effect upon the vote. Now it may be suggested that
societies which take an active part in elections, and always throw their
influence on the same side, ought not to be classed as non-partisan, but
rather as adjuncts to the great parties; and yet they differ from the
true ancillary organisations because their primary object as societies
(whatever the personal aim of individual members may be) is not to place
the party in power, but to carry through a particular policy with which
that party happens to be more nearly in sympathy than its rival.
FOOTNOTES:
[462:1] Graham Wallas, in his "Life of Francis Place," gives a graphic
description of the movements in London.
[462:2] For these movements see Clarkson's "History of the Slave Trade,"
"The Life of Wilberforce," by his sons, and "The Memoirs of Sir T.
Fowell Buxton."
[464:1] This does not refer to the political labour organisations that
have grown out of the trade unions, but must now be classed as regular
parties. For the earlier political activity of the trade unions, as
such, see Sidney and Beatrice Webb, "Industrial Democracy," I., 247 _et
seq._
CHAPTER XXVII
LOCAL PARTY ORGANISATIONS
Contrasted with those bodies which are non-partisan, but extend over the
whole country, or at least over an indefinite area, stand the local
party organisations. Before the Reform Act of 1832 local organisations
such as exist to-day for the election of parliamentary candidates were
almost unknown. They would, indeed, have been of little use in most of
the old electorates. Not to speak of the rotten boroughs, which were
sold for cash, a large number of the smaller constituencies were pocket
boroughs, in the hands of patrons who would not have suffered any one
else to influence the voters. In 1807, when Lord Palmerston was elected
to Parliament for Newtown in the Isle of Wight, Sir Leonard Holmes, who
controlled the seat, made a stipulation that he should "never, even for
an election, set foot in the place. So jealous was the patron lest any
attempt should be made to get a new interest in the borough."[466:1]
Even in the counties the voters were so much under the personal lead of
the landowners that party machinery would have been superfluous. A few
of the large boroughs had, indeed, an extended franchise and a wide
electorate. Most notable among them was Westminster, and here a real
political organisation for the election of members to Parliament existed
for some years before the great reform. It was, however, conducted in
the interest neither of the Whigs, nor of the Tories, but of Radical
Reformers, who were truly independent of both parties.[466:2]
[Sidenote: Their Origin.]
With the extension of the franchise a change began in the political
status of the voters. In many constituencies it was no longer enough to
secure the support of a few influential persons; and the winning of a
seat by either party depended upon getting as many of its adherents as
possible upon the voting lists. The watchword of the new era was given
by Sir Robert Peel in his celebrated advice to the electors of Tamworth
in 1841, "Register, register, register!" It was the more important for
the parties to take the matter in hand, because disputes about the
complex electoral qualifications, instead of being settled on the
initiative of the state, were left to be fought out before the revising
barrister by the voters themselves, who were apt to be very negligent
unless some one made a systematic effort to set them in motion. It was
not less necessary for the parties to keep the matter constantly in
hand, because, the duration of Parliament being uncertain, it could not
be put off until shortly before the election. The lists must be kept
always full in view of a possible dissolution. Often the work was done
on behalf of the sitting member or the prospective candidate by his
agent on the spot, without any formal organisation. But this was not
always true, and, in fact, the Reform Bill was no sooner enacted than
local registration societies began to be formed, which for some years
increased rapidly in number among both Liberals and Conservatives.[467:1]
[Sidenote: Their Early Objects.]