THE POLITE GUIDE TO THE CIVIL SERVICE.
(By an Affable Philosopher and Courteous Guide.)
How to Receive a Deputation.
It does not take very long to make yourself quite at home as Secretary of the Public Squander Department—the office I will suppose you to be filling. You will find everything ready to your hand. All you will have to remember is this—the golden rule of the Service—that what was done last year, should be followed this, and arranged for next. Ministries may come and Cabinets may go, but the P. S. D. continues for ever. The policy of the office must never be disturbed. If it has been the custom (say) to put orange-trees in the open spaces under the control of the Department out to bloom in February, under no consideration whatever must the date be changed. It may be advanced (generally in the newspapers when there is nothing more interesting ripe for discussion) that July would be the better month. It may be declared that an orange-tree taken from a hothouse and thrust into the uncertain atmosphere of the Metropolis, and indeed the provinces, stands less chance of weathering that climate in the second month of the year than it would in the seventh. That may be very true, but what has been done by the Public Squander Department once should be repeated for ever. If an alteration has to be made it must not be accomplished except "under-pressure." Questions must be asked in the House, returns moved for, and all the rest of it. So long as the alteration can be resisted, it is the duty of every member of the Department to stand shoulder to shoulder to oppose. You will find a case in point in the matter of your own pet grievance the condition of "Milestones." You will recollect (if you have a good memory) that "Milestones" were the steps of the staircase that led you from the hall of Parliament to the comfortable apartments reserved for the special use of the Secretary of the P. S. D.
"I do not think we need bother about those Milestones," you will say to the Chief Clerk after you have got accustomed to your messengers and have chosen your easiest of easy chairs; "I daresay there are many matters of more pressing importance."
The courteous official to whom you have made the suggestion will readily acquiesce, and then inform you that a deputation are anxious to see you upon the subject. And here you will find one of the disadvantages inseparably connected with making a question exclusively your own. The moment you come into power you are expected to do something. It is of course unreasonable, but none the less for that unavoidable.
"I think you had better see them, Sir," the Chief Clerk will observe. "They know the ropes fairly well, and I do not think we shall get much peace until you have got rid of them. Of course, we have sent them travelling a bit, but they have got back to us at last."
"Sent them a—travelling?" you will query.
"Well, yes. We have referred them to this department, where they have been asked to apply to that. They have been passed on from office to office until they have come back to us. It is the rule of the game. And now I think the time has arrived when you should see them in person."
Of course, you have nothing to do but to take your subordinate's advice. It is one of the regulations of the Civil Service that the tail wags the dog. It stands to reason that a man who has grown grey in the Department is more likely to know the business of the bureau better than you who have just joined. So the spokesman of the deputation receives a polite communication informing him that you will be pleased to see him and his friends at such and such a date. Of course, you are furnished with the names of the friends in advance, and your private secretary (your right-hand man) makes it his special business to post you up in all that is necessary about them. The day arrives, and with it the deputation. If the House is sitting, you can see the Members in your own room. It looks well if you can show your accosters how small a chamber you occupy, and how hard at work you have to be at all hours of the day and night. Failing a meeting in Parliament, you can receive them in the Department itself. In this case contrive, if possible, to see them in official uniform. Chat with them after you have been to a levée, or Cabinet, or something of that sort. It gives you a distinct advantage if you can overawe them with the glories of a well-feathered cocked-hat, and many yards (chiefly on the back of your coat) of gold lace.
You will have, of course, in attendance upon you several heads of departments. These gentlemen will say nothing, but will look wonders. If you are at loss for figures or facts, you will glance at them and make a bold statement. That daring declaration will, of course, be qualified with the announcement that it is made "to the best of your belief." You will turn your face towards the heads, and they will receive your mute appeal with sympathetic attention. They will not say anything, but will, I repeat, look wonders. They will not be comprehensible, but merely convincing.
Chairs will have been set for the members of the deputation. Some of your visitors will be personally known to you, and these you will greet with effusion. Remember that you must be nothing if not genial. Single out for special cordiality the spokesman. Not, of course, one of your parliamentary colleagues who is going to introduce your visitors to you, but the principal member of the deputation. If you have to contradict him in the course of the interview you will have the sympathy of his colleagues, and they will be glad to see one who has the pleasure of your acquaintance (why should he have it more than they?) soundly snubbed. After every one has got comfortably into their places, you will ask if the Press are to be present. If the reply is in the affirmative (as it most probably will be, as all deputations like to see themselves in print), continue your generalities, and say with a good-natured laugh, "that you must be on your guard." If the interview is not to be reported, then you require no further guide. You can say or do almost anything in reason. But assuming that the reporters are to be present (and here it may be observed that, if your private secretary knows his business, the gentlemen of the Press will to some extent be "selected"), you must be more careful.
You will listen to your parliamentary colleague's speech of introduction and the address of your friend the spokesman with many silent tokens of goodwill. When there is a trace of a compliment you will smile and bow, and if any figures are introduced you will ask to have them repeated, and make a note of them on a piece of paper. It does not matter what kind of paper you use, as the piece will subsequently disappear into the basket reserved for valueless documents.
You will ask several questions, and, when the spokesman has completed his harangue, you will look round to see if anyone desires to follow him. If there is any hesitation, commence your reply at once. But if anyone is ready, let him speak. It is far better that the eloquence of the deputation should come out (like the measles) rather than be suppressed. When your visitors have had their turn, then will come yours.
Of course the less you say the better. I do not mean in words, but in purport. If you have time you can chatter for an hour, but that chatter should be absolutely innocuous. Remember not to give yourself away. Mind, you are bound in office by nothing you have uttered out of it. Be genial. Indulge in small jokes. Let them be at your own expense. Complain that you are powerless. Explain that had you your way you would do all sorts of good things, but "that tyrant, the Chancellor of the Exchequer," interferes. It is not the fault of the Public Squander Department; but the crime of the Treasury. Wind up by assuring the members of the deputation of your personal sympathy, and assure them that you will take "an early opportunity of laying the representations they have made before your colleagues."
By following these directions you may be sure that you will gain golden opinions. You will be thanked with effusion for your courtesy, and your visitors will retire entirely satisfied with the reception that has been accorded to them.
I say, Tibbins, old Man, is it true that your Wife has been asked to resign at the Omphale Club?"
"Well, yes; you see the Committee found that she'd been guilty of Ungentlemanly Conduct."