Liberal traditions with Radical instincts. The two can mingle with the
utmost ease, and, though they may run side by side for some time before
they join, the steady stream of the one and the rapid rush of the other
always unite at last in one broad river of liberalizing sentiment, which
fertilizes as it flows.
From the time when Bolingbroke wrote of some measure that "such a remedy
might have wrought a _radical cure_ of the evil that threatens our
constitution" to the date, a century later, when those who wished to
introduce a "radical reform" into our representative system were called
by the name, there were many Whigs who talked Radicalism without being
aware of it; but when the title had been given to a section of the
Liberal party, it became for a long period a term of reproach. Mr.
Gladstone, once speaking at Birmingham, quoted a definition of the early
Radicals which described them as men "whose temper had been soured
against the laws and institutions of their country;" and he admitted
that there was much justification for their having been so. But one can
quite understand that men of a soured temper were not likely to be
popular with the placid politician who stayed at home, or the
place-hunter who went to the House of Commons; and the bad meaning, once
attached to the name, remained affixed to it for a very long time.
Mr. Gladstone, in the speech referred to, was the first great English
statesman to try and remove the reproach; and this he did by defining a
Radical as "a man who is in earnest." This was flattering, but as a
definition lacked precision, for Tories are often in desperate earnest.
Many Radicals would assert that the very name--coming, as it of course
does, from the Latin word for "root"--tells everything; that it
signifies that they go to the root of all matters with which they deal,
and that, where reform is needed, it is a root and branch reform they
advocate.
To this it may be replied that to go to the root of everything is not
always practicable and is not necessarily judicious. If a tree be
thoroughly rotten, if it be liable to be shaken to the ground by the
first blast, and thereby to injure all its surroundings, it should
certainly be cut down, and as soon as it conveniently can be. But if the
tree has only two or three rotten branches, there is no necessity to go
to its root. If one does, it will very probably kill a good tree which,
with only the decayed portions removed, might bear valuable fruit. As
with trees, so with institutions; and what seems to be forgotten by many
who call themselves Radical is that, in a highly-complex civilization
such as ours, we have to bear with some things that are far from ideal,
simply because of that force of do-nothingness which, powerful in
mechanics, is as great in political life.
A friend who has long worked in the Liberal cause once observed: "The
misfortune is that it is difficult to tell what a man's ideas of public
policy are from the mere fact of his calling himself a Radical. If by
Radical is meant Advanced Liberal--a Liberal determined to push forward
with all practicable speed, a Liberal who is in earnest--then I can
understand it, and I will readily take the name. But if by Radical is
meant a somewhat hysterical creature, who is ready to fight for every
fad that tickles his fancy, as he seems to be in some cases, or a
cantankerous being whose crotchets compel him to sever himself from all
other workers, as he is in others; if he is of the extreme Spencerian
school, and demurs to most legislation on the ground that it is
over-legislation, or of the extreme Socialist school, and demands that
Government shall do everything, and individual effort be practically
strangled by force of law, I am not a Radical, and hope never to be
called one."
But the practical Radicalism which is one of the greatest factors in
Liberal policy at the present day, is far removed from the schools just
depicted. The reasonable Radical is not a believer in any of the
schemes--as old as the hills and yet unblushingly preached
to-day--which, by some legislative hocus-pocus, some supreme stroke of
statecraft, will "put a pot on every fire and a fowl in every pot;" will
endow each widow and give a portion to all unmarried girls; will feed
the poor without burdening the community; and will make all the crooked
paths straight without undue trouble to ourselves. He holds that
Diseases desperate grown
By desperate remedies are removed,
Or not at all;
but he does not consider all diseases to be of the character described;
he does not refuse the half-loaf because for the moment the whole one is
impossible of attainment; and he does not repudiate other honest workers
in the cause of progress because their pace is not quite so swift, and
their point of view somewhat different.
In the constant striving after a high ideal, there is in the Radical's
heart a resolute desire to emerge from any rut into which politics may
have degenerated. For the very reason of his existence is that, if there
be an abuse in Church or State which agitation and argument can remove,
all honest endeavours must be made to remove it. He cannot forget that
many abuses have been got rid of by these means, and he profits by the
lesson to attack those which remain. It is their extinction at which he
aims. Earnestness, enthusiasm, and devotion to principle are his
weapons, and these he will not waste in fruitless longings after a
perfect State, but will use them to make the State we possess as perfect
as is possible. In all things he will aim at the practical; he will
remember that compromise is not necessarily cowardly, and that it is
possible for those who disagree with him to be as honest in their views
and as pure in their aims as himself. And in striving for the greatest
happiness of the greatest number, he will never forget that the greatest
number is all.
The answer may be made that this is an ideal Radical, and that the real
article is very different. So many have been taught to think, but they
are wrong. There are some rough diamonds in the Radical party, it is
true; but, so long as they be diamonds, we can afford to wait a little
for the polish. They are bigoted it may be said, and bigotry is hateful.
But bigots are just as useful to a reform as backwoodsmen to a new
community; they clear away obstacles from which gentler men would
shrink; rough and occasionally awkward to deal with, they make the
pathways along which others can move.
But, it is sometimes asked, where are the old philosophical
Radicals--men of the stamp of Bentham, and Grote, and James Mill? Dead,
all of them, having done their life's work faithfully and well; and
their successors have to look at politics from the standpoint of
to-day, and not of half a century ago. And when the Tories say that
these were especially admirable men, it must not be forgotten that their
ideas were as strongly opposed and their persons as bitterly assailed by
the Tories of their own day as are the ideas and the persons of the
unphilosophical Radicals--if they are to be called so--of this present
year of grace.
The Radicals of to-day have their faults, and there shall be no attempt
to conceal them. Many who call themselves by the name discredit it by
impatience of opposition, readiness to attribute interested motives to
those differing from them, and intolerance towards those who exercise in
another direction what they emphatically claim for themselves--absolute
freedom of thought, speech, and action. Some among them also are prone
to be led aside by a catching phrase, without troubling to ask what it
really means; and, in order to strengthen their forces, allow themselves
to be connected with any movement that may for the moment be popular.
And even more, but these of a much higher stamp, are carried away by the
dangerous delusion that in any political system can be found perfect
happiness.
No honest Radical will deny the existence of these faults or be offended
that they should be pointed out. But the essential purity of aim and
depth of honest fervour possessed by the Radicals of this country
deserves all recognition. At heavy sacrifice to themselves they have led
the van in every great political movement, and their instinct has been
proved to be right. They have held aloft the lamp of liberty in times of
depression when Liberals of feebler soul would have hidden it beneath a
bushel in the hope of brighter days. And, even were their failings more
far-reaching than any that can be urged against them, their services as
pioneers of freedom would entitle them to the heartiest thanks of all
who have entered into their heritage because of the efforts the Radicals
have made.
Radicals and Liberals, then, are agreed as to principle though they
differ in methods, for the Liberal is a very good lantern, but a lantern
which requires lighting; and it is the Radical who strikes the match.
IX.--WHAT ARE THE LIBERALS DOING?
There has now been told a great deal about the principles which the
Liberals entertain, and a list has been given of the many glorious
things the Liberals have done; but the question of greatest immediate
interest is what the Liberals are doing, for we cannot live upon the
exploits of the past, but upon the performances of the present and the
promises of the future.
Although the Liberals at this moment are concentrating their main
attention upon the question of self-government for Ireland, there are
other important matters affecting the remainder of the United Kingdom
which occupy a place in their thoughts, and which will form their future
party "cry."
It has, of course, often been remarked that men when in Opposition call
out for a great deal which they fail to accomplish when in office; but
discredit does not of necessity ensue. It certainly shows that in
certain instances men do not come up to their ideal, but does that prove
the ideal to be wrong? Does it not rather prove that those who adopted
it, like mortal men everywhere and in all ages, were fallible? Despite
every drawback and every backsliding--and such drawbacks and
backslidings are admittedly many--it is better to have a high ideal and
fail frequently to attain it, than to have no definiteness of purpose
and take the chance of blundering into the right.
None should think lightly of the power of a popular cry. It was with the
shout of the leading tenet of their new creed that the Arabs fought
their way from Mecca to Madrid; it was with the exclamation "Jerusalem
is lost!" that the Crusaders marched across Europe to battle with the
Saracen; it was with the device "For God and the Protestant Religion"
that William of Orange swept the Stuarts out of Britain; and it was with
the burning words of the "Marseillaise" that the raw levies of France
defied and defeated the trained armies of Europe. For the popular cry
voices the popular emotion, and when the popular emotion is at its
height its force is irresistible.
To touch the heart of the people must, therefore, be one aim of any
democratic party; and that is why the politician who makes no allowance
for human passion, prejudice, or prepossession is a mere dreamer, who
deserves and is bound to fail. The fashion of the German philosopher
who, on being asked to describe a camel, evolved the animal from his
inner consciousness, is that in which some of our political guides
create their ideas of the world around them. They sit in the same
armchair as of old, and do not perceive how the conditions have changed.
They continue to imagine that the clique of some club-house controls
public events, and that the whisper of the party whip is all-powerful
with the constituencies. They do not recognize that voters are not now
an appanage of the Reform or the Carlton, because the groove they have
hollowed out for themselves is too deep to allow them to look over the
edge. But in nothing more than in politics is it true that the proper
study of mankind is man.
And, if one moves among the masses of his fellows, he will find a
growing desire to put to practical use the tools the State has given
them. Household suffrage and the ballot were not an end but a means, and
the question which politicians should ask themselves in this day of
comparative quiet is to what end these means shall be put. Those who
talk with working men know that there is a vague discontent with things
as they are, which, if not directed into proper channels, may become
dangerous, for in many quarters the old ignorant impatience of taxation
is giving place to an ignorant impatience of the rich. No good will come
of shutting our eyes to the existence of this feeling; the question is
how in the fairest and fittest manner it can be eradicated.
It must not be forgotten that the working classes have only recently
obtained direct political power, and that there is still much
uncertainty among them as to the best uses to which it can be put. There
would be nothing immoral in their using that power to better their own
interests. Men, after all, are but mortal; and, just as the upper
classes before 1832 used the power of Parliament to further their own
ends, and just as later the middle classes, when they were uppermost,
attended carefully to themselves, so the working classes will do when
they recognize their strength. And this is only saying that men being as
they are, "Number One" will be the most prominent figure in their
political calculations, whether that number represents a peer of the
realm or a labourer on the roads.
This is not the place to enter into the question of how far the State
ought to interfere with social problems. The fact to be emphasized is
that there is an increasing body of opinion, especially among the
working classes, that certain social problems will have to be attended
to. Any politician who attempts to forecast the future--more especially
any Liberal who wishes to draw up a party programme--must recognize
this, and act according to his convictions after fully considering it.
The politics of the future will, therefore, have a distinctly social
tinge, but they must include also many questions which are regarded
to-day, and will continue to be regarded, as of a partisan character. It
is requisite, then, to the right understanding of Liberal policy that a
broad view should be taken of the matters which are likely within no
distant date to become planks of the party platform. Calm discussion now
may save misapprehension then, and if we can see exactly whither we are
going, we shall be able with the more certainty to pursue our journey.
And if, in the course of the discussion, what at the first blush appears
an extreme view is taken, remember always the old truth that half a loaf
is better than no bread--that is, if the half-loaf be good bread and
honestly earned, and not to be accepted as an equivalent for the whole,
if that be wished for and attainable.
Subject to this condition, the Liberal party can do no better than
consider what is likely to come within the scope of its future
exertions; and although it is right to take up one thing at a time in
order that that one thing may be done well, good will be effected by at
once endeavouring to answer the main questions now before us. Upon the
spirit in which these are discussed, and the manner in which they are
replied to, much of the future of popular government in England will
depend. The scientific naturalist of to-day tells us that it is an idle
fable which states that the ostrich hides its head in the sand with the
idea of escaping observation; but really so many of our leading
politicians execute a variation of this manoeuvre in regard to the
questions of the future, that the ostrich need not be ashamed to be
stupid in such eminent company.
A preliminary to the discussion in detail of questions which go to the
root of many of the most important matters in politics is a resolution
not to be led aside from any course one may think right by the fear of
being called hard names, or by the use of certain venerable but
weather-worn phrases. It is so easy to endeavour to damage political
opponents by applying to them such names as Separatists or Socialists,
Atheists or Revolutionaries, that one cannot wonder that the practice is
frequently adopted by the Tory party. But hard words break no bones, and
the politician who is frightened by a nickname may be a very estimable
person, but he is no good in a fight.
Similarly we can afford to despise certain of the phrases which with
some politicians do duty for argument. No one should be turned back from
doing what he thought to be right in the circumstances of to-day by
being reminded of that mysterious entity "the wisdom of our ancestors."
What sane man would conduct a shop as it was conducted 500 years since?
And where would science be if we still swore by the skill of the
alchemists? Accumulated experience in the varied transactions of life is
held to improve man's judgment and capacity; why should it not be
similarly held to improve the judgment and capacity of States? Let any
one who sighs after the wisdom of our ancestors apply in imagination the
political maxims in vogue even a hundred years ago to the affairs of
this present, and then let him say honestly whether he would wish by
them to be governed.
Another fine-crusted example of a worn-out phrase is that in praise of
"the good old times." We are invited to believe that in some unnamed
age, England was better and brighter, and her people happier and richer,
than to-day, and mainly because rulers were obeyed in all things and no
questions asked. But particulars are lacking; and these sketches of the
glories of "the good old times" are like nothing so much as Chinese
pictures, displaying an abundance of colour but no perspective, an
amazing imagination but an absence of exact likeness to anything ever
seen by mortal man.
"Dangerous innovations" also is a phrase at which no one should be
alarmed. No great good has ever been accomplished without many excellent
persons considering it a "dangerous innovation." The Scribes and the
Pharisees, and, after them, the Roman Empire, denounced and persecuted
the Christian religion upon this ground; the most powerful Church in
Christendom, with similar belief and similar lack of success, used every
engine at its command to suppress the Reformation. As in religious so in
political affairs. King John would doubtless have described Magna Charta
in just such terms; the partisans of Charles the First certainly held
that opinion concerning the demand of Parliament to control the Church,
the army, and the monarchy itself; the opponents of every measure of
reform--political, social, or religious--have used the phrase. From the
greatest to the smallest reform it has been the same. In the early years
of this century a Parochial Schools Bill, because it did not give all
power to the clergy, was opposed by the then Archbishop of Canterbury
with the words, "Their lordships' prudence would, and must, guard
against innovations that might shake the foundations of religion." When,
in later times, gas was introduced, the aristocratic dwellers in western
London protested with equal force against such an innovation as the new
illuminant; and Lord Beaconsfield, in the opening chapters of the last
of his novels, sketched with ironic pen the attempts of high-born ladies
to prevent the spread of light. Thus, in things sublime and in things
ridiculous, the cry of "dangerous innovation" has been raised until it
has been rendered contemptible.
Equally futile is the fear that the Liberals are about to propose "the
impossible." There is nothing in politics to which that word can be
applied, as even the most cursory study of our history will show. When
men say that certain measures can "never" be carried, they are more
likely to be wrong than right. In 1687 it would have been deemed
impossible to place the Crown upon a strictly parliamentary basis; in
1689 this was accomplished. In 1830 the most sanguine reformer scarcely
dared hope that borough-mongering would in his lifetime be destroyed,
and the first popularly elected Parliament was chosen in 1832. In 1865,
none could have dreamed that household suffrage in the boroughs was
near; in 1867 it was adopted by a Tory Government. In 1867 he would have
been a hardy prophet who would have foretold the speedy downfall of the
Irish Episcopal Establishment; and the Act of Disestablishment was
placed upon the statute book in 1869. Such instances should of a surety
teach men to be modest in their forecasts of what is possible in
politics.
In, therefore, pursuing our search into the why and the wherefore of the
politics of the future, we must put aside phrases and come to facts. The
phrases will die, but the facts will remain; and the more closely we
grasp these latter the more certain will those Liberal principles which
have done so much for the past, do even more for the future.
And, when we come to the facts, we must not forget that a political
question is not necessarily unpractical because it cannot be immediately
dealt with; for good is accomplished by the calm discussion of points
which are bound some time to be raised, and which, if undebated now, may
be settled in a gust of popular passion. As Mr. John Morley has well
observed--"The fact that leading statesmen are of necessity so absorbed
in the tasks of the hour furnishes all the better reason why as many
other people as possible should busy themselves in helping to prepare
opinion for the practical application of unfamiliar but weighty and
promising suggestions, by constant and ready discussion of them upon
their merits."
X.--SHOULD HOME RULE BE GRANTED TO IRELAND?
The question of Irish self-government is for the present the greatest
that concerns the Liberal party, and in current politics, as Mr.
Gladstone has truly and tersely put it, Ireland blocks the way. This, of
course, is not so simply because Mr. Gladstone said it, and even less is
it so because he wished it. The question stands in the path of all other
great measures of legislative reform, for the sufficient reason that, at
the first opportunity after the franchise was enjoyed by every
householder, Ireland declared emphatically, and by a majority
unparalleled in modern political history, in favour of freedom to manage
her own domestic affairs.
It must be obvious that, when all the popularly-elected members for
three out of four provinces into which one of the countries which form
this kingdom is divided, pronounce against the existing system of
government, and when a majority of those for the other province side
with them, that that system cannot continue to exist with the good will
of those whom it most intimately affects, and can only be maintained by
force. Such as have followed Mr. Gladstone in this matter do not believe
in the maintenance of a government against the constitutionally declared
will of the governed, and are agreed that the Irish demand for the
management of purely domestic affairs ought to be granted on the grounds
of justice, expediency, and sound Liberal principles.
They hold that to grant the demand would be just, because under the
present system the vast majority of Irishmen have no practical control
over those by whom they are governed; that it would be expedient,
because the kingdom is weakened by the continual disaffection of one of
its component parts; and that it would accord with sound Liberal
principles, in that the overwhelming majority of the Irish electorate
have asked for Home Rule through the constitutional medium of the
ballot-box.