Lord Salisbury is equipped with many of the qualifications that are

necessary or held to be desirable in a party leader. He is a member of

the higher aristocracy. He can boast of ancestors who played a

distinguished part in the politics of Europe three centuries ago. This

circumstance appeals to the imagination and confers a legitimate

advantage. He served an apprenticeship in the House of Commons. On

succeeding to the peerage he did not lose a moment in making his

influence felt in the Upper House. In one of his earliest speeches he

startled the peers by telling them that if they did not choose to assert

their constitutional rights they would consult their dignity by ceasing

to be a House at all. He has had much experience in State affairs. What

he did at the India Office and as Foreign Secretary is too well known to

the world. Lord Salisbury's oratorical gifts are undeniable. He is one

of a select half-dozen taken from either House who stand first in the

power of moving a popular assembly. Lord Beaconsfield said that he

"wanted finish." The remark was more spiteful than true. Lord Salisbury

could not rival his chief in the neatness and polish of an epigram, but

just as little could Lord Beaconsfield rival him in the unstudied graces

of oratory. His speeches have a freedom and a rhythmical flow which

captivate the hearer. Though he gives full play to his imagination and

recklessly faces the risks to which an impetuous speaker is exposed, he

is seldom stilted, and rarely breaks the neck of a sentence. Here,

perhaps, the favourable side of the catalogue should end. His speeches

have the great blemish of insolence. They are wanting in geniality, and

apparently wanting in reflectiveness. They contain too little thought

and more than enough of gall. Perhaps their cleverness is too obtrusive.

His hearers are pleased, but they suspect a trick, and levy a discount

on his argument. The faults of his speeches are his faults as a

politician. He is headstrong and impulsive. He borrows his ideas from

his passions, and fancies he is sagacious when he is but following the

bent of his uppermost desire. He has but little sympathy with modern

life and but a narrow comprehension of its facts. He is under the spell

of long-descended traditions, and would prefer, if he could have it so,

the England of the Tudors to the England of Victoria. Of the people and

of the spirit which animates them he knows nothing. How should he? Save

the rustics of Hatfield, he has never seen them, except from a platform.

His occasional references to such a subject as English Nonconformity

shows the depth of his benightedness; and his ignorance, the voluntary

and superb ignorance of the aristocrat and the High Churchman, is the

source of many of his blunders. Knowing nothing of the ground in front,

he forces a leap and comes down in the ditch, and his friends with him.

Lord Salisbury is indispensable, and as nothing will cure him of his

faults the only plan is to keep him out of the path of temptation. The

way to do this, we are told, is to fill the front bench in the House of

Commons with the right sort of men. Thus his qualifications for the

leadership depend upon the choice which may be made of a leader for the

Lower House. Everything points to that as the one crucial business. The

"Two Conservatives" seem to have a special grudge against Mr. Gibson,

perhaps because, unlike Sir Stafford Northcote, he is not too amiable

for his ambition, and has lately been making a formidable bid for power.

Hence we are told how absurd it is to think for a moment of Mr. Gibson.

He is a member for the University of Dublin and might just as well be a

member of the House of Keys or of the States of Jersey. Lord Salisbury

would never have made such a humiliating display over the Arrears Bill

if he had not been misled by Mr. Gibson. Hence it is necessary to keep

the hon. and learned gentleman in the background if the party is not to

be doomed to endless blunders, and driven, sheer beyond the range of

English sympathies.

The attack on Sir Stafford Northcote is conducted with greater caution,

but with the same fell design. We are told that Lord Salisbury's

selection for the leadership on Lord Beaconsfield's death was opposed by

a near relative of Sir Stafford's, and lost by one vote. Then comes the

suggestion that Mr. Disraeli would not have left the House of Commons

for the Upper House if he had not believed that Mr. Gladstone had

finally retired from the leadership of the Opposition. In other words,

had he foreseen the course of events he would not have entrusted the

leadership of the House to Sir Stafford Northcote. There is a vicious

hit in the picture of Sir Stafford sitting between Mr. W. H. Smith and

Mr. Lowther, yielding by turns to the caution of the one and the daring

of the other, and showing himself unequal to the double part. Impartial

observers will, perhaps, admit that Sir Stafford Northcote's chief fault

is a want of backbone. He has not enough of confidence in himself. He

would be a better politician if he were not so good a man. He needs to

be armed either with the power of kicking out, or with imperturbable

composure. This latter is the more useful and more dignified endowment,

but it springs from a sense of self-sufficiency which fails him. If he

had but the gift of epigram he might escape from his tormentors. The

plague of it is that he never succeeds except when he reasons like a man

of sense, and weapons forged on this anvil are too blunt to pierce the

thick hide of impudence.

No evil has befallen Sir Stafford Northcote but such as is common to

men. It seems but the other day when Lord Robert Cecil was playing the

same freaks that Lord Randolph Churchill is playing now. Our friend

Fluellen would perhaps say, "the situations, look you, is both alike."

Either of the noble names would pass for the other if they were written

with initials and dashes in eighteenth century style. In those days the

late Lord Derby was the Conservative chief, and Mr. Disraeli led the

Opposition in the Commons as his lieutenant. This arrangement nettled

the young blood of the Conservative _noblesse_. Lord Robert Cecil's

outlook in the world was not then what it afterwards became. He was a

younger son with a career to make for himself. Ambition can supply

spurs, so can prudence, so can necessity, and so can all three combined.

The younger son of a great house enters upon political life at an

enormous advantage over humbler rivals. If there is any brilliancy about

him his fortune is made. Lord Robert Cecil's influence was sufficient to

produce a succession of small insurrectionary earthquakes on the

Opposition benches. Old members from the shires nudged each other in

their bucolic way and asked what was the matter, learning with puzzled

amusement that there were some who did not think it quite right for the

gentlemen of England to be led by a Semitic adventurer. But the Semitic

adventurer had the gifts of his race. He was primed to the throat with

contempt and scorn, too cold and measured withal for the slightest show

of insolence. As each hurly-burly ended and the dust settled, he was

found sitting where he always meant to sit, just as if nothing had

happened, with the same impassive look and the same indomitable calm. He

had one great advantage external to himself. He knew that he could place

unbounded confidence in the loyalty of his chief in the Upper House, and

so long as Lord Derby stood by him the insurgent school-boys on the

back-benches could do him no harm. Perhaps Sir Stafford Northcote

cannot count upon the same support, but then his own resources are

greater, if he did but know it.

The truth is that Sir Stafford Northcote represents the only type of

Conservatism that can survive in the present state of political thought

in England. It is not a brilliant type, but that is the fault of

history. Enough that it may be a useful one. Toryism has undergone a

process of inverse development which resembles decay, but which is

merely an accommodation to the existing conditions of life and health.

The figments which used to furnish it with sustenance are dead. The

divine right of kings, which nourished as a sentiment long after it was

disowned by the laws, has at last gone spark out. The divine rights of

the Church have followed suit. The legal abuses which were clung to as a

symbol of the unchangeableness of English institutions are being swept

away. The monopoly of political power which gave the right of governing

the realm as a perquisite to a few patrician families has been broken

down. The compromise which transferred the old privileges of the

aristocracy to the middle classes has had to be abandoned. The

"advancing tide of democracy" at which men looked through a telescope

twenty years ago, wondering at what comparatively remote period it would

reach our shores, has already reached us, and the waters are still

rising. The superstitions formerly attaching to the possession of land,

to hereditary descent, to ancestral titles, to the feudal pretensions of

the squirearchy, are all dissipating into thin air. If it is not yet

proved whether science is a democratic power, at any rate it asserts the

predominance of natural laws, and at their fiat artificial distinctions

must tend to disappear.

In such a state of things what part is left for Conservatism to play?

Mr. Disraeli asked and answered the same question when he began his

witches' dance. What have you to conserve? Nothing! The answer is not

true. There is much that may be conserved for a long time to come, and

when it can no longer be conserved in its present shape something will

have to be said as to the altered form it shall assume. One thing is

certain. Conservatism cannot emancipate itself from the conditions of

the age. It may indeed turn hermit and shut itself up in parsonages and

manor-houses, but if it is still to be a political power it can only

plan and achieve what is possible. It accepts, and cannot but accept,

the law of progress as the rule of legislation, and the only arbiter to

whom it can appeal is the national will. But you may advance slowly or

rapidly, you may resort to modifications and compromises instead of

sweeping things bodily away. In establishing a preference on these

questions there is abundant room for popular advocacy. The people are

not swayed by pure reason. They are actuated to a great extent by their

prejudices and their passions. They must be taken as they are, and

recent experience shows that it is difficult to say beforehand what and

how much may not be made out of them. Unorganized groups of men are so

helpless, oratory has so much power, the small vices of the mind have so

strong a tendency to pass into politics, that a wide field will long be

open to propagandists of every kind. It sometimes seems as if the

obstacles to be overcome might be too great for the reformers, and that

the "children of light" must adjourn their efforts till the millennium

is a little nearer. It is the spread of education and the silent working

of intellectual influences springing from the higher knowledge of the

age that puts the better chances on their side. But Conservatism has its

chances too, only it must not frighten the people with antiquated

nonsense. It must fall in with current ideas. It must set up on the

whole similar aims to those of its opponents, merely asking a preference

for other methods. Above all, it must be modest and sober and give up

bounce and slap-dash. The people are becoming more serious. They reason

more on politics and with better lights; a sense of power teaches them

self-respect, and they resent clap-trap. Perhaps I ought to ask pardon

for saying so, but they can see through a merely clever man, like Lord

Salisbury. A Liberal would find Sir Stafford Northcote a more formidable

antagonist. He might be more eloquent, but eloquence is not everything.

A gentle persuasiveness, even with a spice of puzzledom in it, will go

further in the end. The Conservative mutineers know not what they are

doing when they try to demolish this type of Conservatism. Or perhaps

they do know, but are bent upon objects which, from a personal point of

view, are attended with compensations. But the future of Conservatism

does not rest with them unless they change their ideas and manners. The

staying power and the fitness of things are on the side of those whom,

with the ribald audacity of youth, they deride as slow-coaches.

The "Two Conservatives" are not prepared to accept this humble _rôle_.

They meditate something heroic. They say that "if the Conservative party

is to continue to exist as a power in the State it must become a popular

party;" "that the days are past when an exclusive class, however great

its ability, wealth, and energy, can command a majority in the

electorate." "The liberties and interests of the people at large," they

say, "are the only things which it is possible now to conserve: the

rights of property, the Established Church, the House of Lords, and the

Crown itself, must be defended on the ground that they are institutions

necessary or useful to the preservation of civil and religious freedom,

and can be maintained only so far as the people take this view of their

subsistence." These are the principles of democracy. It is here laid

down that the people are the only legitimate court of appeal on

political questions, and that the decision rests, and ought to rest,

with the numerical majority. Before this court the most venerable

institutions of the realm may be brought to have their merits sifted,

and an adverse verdict is to be followed by a writ of execution. The

only test by which they are to be judged is their utility. If they

fail to stand it they are to be voted nuisances. The standard of utility

is not to be the interests or the supposed rights of any person or

class, but the interests of the whole people. The people themselves are

to decide what is meant by their liberties, how far they extend, and

what other interests shall be superadded in making out the standard

towards which our institutions shall approximate.

If these are the principles of Neo-conservatism, our case is made out

with a superfluity of proof. Of course there is a pretence of acting on

these principles already. When a measure is before Parliament it is

assumed that the sole issue in dispute is its utility. The Conservative

debater recognizes the decisiveness of this test just as freely as his

opponents. But these principles have not been openly avowed by the

Conservatives. The "hypocrisy" with which Mr. Disraeli taunted them

still flourishes in the form of amiable prepossessions. A vast mass of

mystic and traditional lumber still enters into the foundations of

Conservatism, and if all this "wood, hay, and stubble" were to be burnt

up it would fare ill with the frail fabric overhead. The practical

policy of Conservatism would not alter, and could not be altered much,

but its pretensions would have to be pitched in a lower key, and the

excessive modesty of the part which alone remains to it in the politics

of the future would be put beyond dispute.

It would be interesting to see this theory of Conservatism, quietly

admitted though it be into the working details of legislation, hawked

for acceptance among the Opposition benches, and note the result. What

is this new creed of yours? we can fancy the hon. and gallant member for

Loamshire ejaculating. That there must be no class influence in

politics? That any half-dozen hinds on my estate are as good as so many

dukes? That the will of the people is the supreme political tribunal?

That if a majority at the polls bid us abolish the Church and toss the

Crown into the gutter we are forthwith to be their most obedient

servants? And you tell me that I can profess this horrible creed without

ceasing to be a Tory! Before I could with a spark of honesty so much as

parley with it I should have to crave a seat among the red-hot gentlemen

yonder below the gangway. And the hon. and gallant member would only say

the truth. Privilege is the mint mark of Toryism, exclusiveness is its

life and soul. The doctrine of equal rights must be in everlasting

repugnance to it. Toryism is the political expression of feudalized

society, with lords and squires at the top, subservient dependants

half-way down, and a mass of brutalized serfs at the bottom. It has been

comparatively humanized by modern influences, but nothing can change the

bent of its genius. With privilege vested interests of all sorts enter

into ready fellowship. All those good citizens who have reason to

suspect that if a public inquest sat upon them the verdict would not be

favourable hasten to edge themselves in as closely as possible towards

the privileged circle. The village rector, who does his duty with all

the conscientiousness of a beneficed Christian, but who prizes his glebe

and tithe, rushes to Cambridge to swell the majority for Mr. Raikes.

Gentlemen of the long robe who make politics a vocation gravitate for

some reason or other towards Liberalism; but the lower branch of the

profession displays an opposite tendency. The county lawyer, who makes

two-thirds of his income out of the mysteries of conveyancing, has

reason to dislike such things as the registration of titles, and the

transfer of estates by a few sentences extracted from a public record.

The licensed victuallers, tens of thousands strong and with more than a

hundred millions of invested capital, dread the change which would give

them a quiet Sunday in return for a seventh of their profits. The

strength of Toryism lies in this phalanx of vested interests and social

privileges. The golden chain reaches from squire to Boniface, and still

lower in the social scale, wherever some snug little peculium is found

to nestle. The principles of Neo-Conservatism would rend the structure

from top to bottom. The doctrine that the solution of all our political

problems and the fate of all our institutions are simply an affair of

numerical majorities at the ballot-box, and that the interests of the

people are the sole end of legislation, is enough of itself to smash the

party to atoms.

All sensible politicians admit that if the time should come when a large

majority of the people are adverse to monarchical institutions it will

be vain to think of maintaining them by force. It may be added that

sensible politicians seldom discuss such questions. They have too much

present work on hand to trouble themselves about the remote and the

unknown. "What thy hand findeth to do" is their motto, and out of the

faithful achievements of to-day will the better future spring.

Nevertheless bare possibilities sometimes present themselves as

conundrums to be unravelled, and to the conundrum in question there is

no second answer. But it is one thing to quietly accept a proposition

and then let it drop out of sight; it is another to run it up to the top

of the flag-staff as the symbol of a great party. This is what the

"Neo-conservatives" propose to do with their recent discovery. An

opinion of the Crown's utility is to determine whether it shall be

preserved or destroyed. When the majority of the people cry "Away with

it," away it is to go. As soon as the popular fiat is announced, the

Sovereign will depart from Windsor, the Life Guards will present arms to

the President of the Republic, and in the twinkling of an eye, as the

result of a contested election, the Monarchy of England is to be

decorously carried to the tomb. This is the doctrine which Tory lords

and squires are asked to proclaim with sound of trumpet as the

corner-stone of their political creed. "Only so far as the people take

this view of its subsistence"--this is to be the Tory patent for the

"subsistence" of the Crown. Rather different this from the old cry:--

"Ere the King's Crown go down there are crowns to be broke."

It is true that the peers no longer wear coats of mail, or lead their

vassals to the field of battle. Of most of them it is hardly

disrespectful to suppose that on critical occasions they would prefer

the rear of the army to the van. But the creed is not quite extinct that

there are things worth fighting for, and that among them are the

Monarchy of England and the rights of the Crown. For practical purposes,

perhaps, the creed is obsolete, but it lives in the imagination, and the

sentiments which spring from it are part of the cement of Toryism. The

solemn abjuration which is now proposed in the name of Neo-conservatism

resembles a charge of dynamite.

But in abandoning Tory principles the leaders of the new movement hope

perhaps to drive a roaring trade by defending Tory institutions. They

will say that they have been obliged to shift their ground, but that

they hope to work with better results from their new position. The

business of the party is to prevail upon Household Suffrage to accept

the survivals of feudalism, and a verdict in the new court of appeal

that shall ratify the old creed. It is a creditable enterprise. Will it

succeed? It seems but too likely that the efforts contemplated will only

serve to weaken the institutions they are meant to defend, and that

whatever is practicable or desirable in the objects aimed at will be

secured most easily and most effectually by the Liberal party.

Among the political institutions of an old country there are some which

certainly would not be set up if the past were obliterated, and the

nation were beginning afresh. They were suitable to the times in which

they originated, but they are out of harmony with the tendencies of the

present day. Perhaps they do some good; at any rate they do not do much

harm, and the people tolerate them for the sake of old associations.

From this point of view a great deal may be said in their behalf. They

make visible the continuity of our national existence, they connect us

with a distant and romantic past, they lend to the State something of

dignity and poetic charm. Institutions of this sort may be held in

veneration by those who can trace them to their origin, and see them in

perspective from the beginning. But there is one test they will not

stand. They will not pass unscathed through the crucible of modern

criticism. They are disfigured by anomalies, they shelter many abuses,

they involve an expenditure of public money out of proportion to the

services rendered in return, they consecrate a privileged descent, in

the transmission of property they violate the rules of natural equity,

while the principles on which they rest need only to be developed and

applied with logical consistency to overthrow the fabric of political

freedom. The best service that can be rendered to such institutions is

to say as little as possible about them. A wise friend will not utter a

word in their defence unless they are assailed, and the ground selected

for defence will then be carefully limited to the dimensions of the

attack. The next best service will be to remove from them as occasion

offers all unsightly excrescences, to put an end to any anomaly which is

beginning to excite remark, and to amend any faults of mechanism which

are likely to produce a jar. Such a policy of discriminating reserve may

lengthen out their existence indefinitely. But to force them to the

front, to exalt them as the ripest product of political wisdom, to hold

them forth as necessary to the maintenance of the civil and religious

liberties of the people,--this can only be the work of designing

adversaries or of blundering friends. As a basis of party action it

would be like sand. It would be levelled by the mocking tides of popular

criticism.

The programme of the "Two Conservatives" begins with a grand item, the

conservation of the liberties of the people. But why "conserve?" Why not

extend and advance them? Why should the present stage in the historical

growth of our liberties be selected as the point at which conservation

becomes a duty? Would not the party which undertakes the task to-day be

better pleased if there were fewer of them to conserve? The Tories have

always been adepts at conservation, but the things they have been most

willing to conserve were not our liberties but the restrictions put upon

our liberties. Since the liberties now proposed to be conserved are

assumed to be threatened by the Liberals, they must be liberties of a

special sort, such as liberty to spread infection, liberty to dispense

with vaccination, liberty to send uninspected ships to sea, to keep

children away from school, or to send them out at any age to work in the

fields, the factory, or the streets. "Personal rights" have good radical

sponsors in the hon. members for Stockport and Leicester. Perhaps

Parliament as a whole is the best sponsor. The Neo-conservative

programme should tell us what is meant by the liberties of the people.

The absence of definition may perhaps cover an imposture.

The Contemporary Review, January 1883 Vol 43, No. 1 · 第 17 / 18 段