The applause when it comes proves the same thing as applause does everywhere; that if you want to drive home your points in a large assembly you must be condensed and simple, using broad, slashing arguments. This is precisely what distinguishes melodrama from drama, and which explains why excessive analysis is no argument in the popular mind. Generally, however, there is not much applause and the voice of the speaker wanders through the hall uninterrupted by signs of content or discontent. Sometimes, although rather rarely, there is a gust of laughter as a point is scored against a hated rival. But it dies away as suddenly as it arose—almost before you have noted it, as if it were superfluous and must make room for more serious things.
With the closing of a debate there is the vote. An electric bell rings again, and with a rough hand the House police close all the exits. The clerks come down into the aisles. They seem to move listlessly and indifferently; yet very quickly they have checked the membership to insure that the excessively large quorum requisite is present. Now the Speaker calls for the vote. Massively and stiffly, as at a word of command the "ayes" rise in their seats. There is a round of applause; the bill has been carried almost unanimously. That, however, is not always so. When there is an obstreperous mood abroad, the House will decline to proceed with the agenda, and a dozen men will rise at a time and speak from behind their desks, trying to talk each other down. The Speaker stands patiently wrestling with the problem of procedure—and often failing since practice is still in process of being formed. Years must elapse before absolutely hard-and-fast rules are established. Still the progress already made since August, 1916, is remarkable, and something is being learned every day. The business of a Parliament is after all to debate—to give voice to the uppermost thoughts in the nation's mind; and how those thoughts are expressed is a continual exposition of the real state of the nation's political beliefs. Parliament is—or should be—a microcosm of the race; parliament is never any better or any worse than the mass of the people. The rule of the majority as expressed in the voting of the National Assembly must be taken as a fundamental thing; China is no exception to the rule—the rule of the majority must be decisive. But here another complexity of the new Chinese political life enters into the problem. The existence of a responsible Cabinet, which is not yet linked to the Legislative body in any well-understood way, and which furthermore has frequently acted in opposition to the President's office, makes for a daily struggle in the administration of the country which is strongly to be condemned and which has already led to some ugly clashes. But nevertheless there are increasing indications that parliamentary government is making steady headway and that when both the Permanent Constitution and the Local Government system have been enforced, a new note will be struck. No doubt it will need a younger generation in office to secure a complete abandonment of all the old ways, but the writer has noted with astonishment during the past twelve-month how eager even viceroys belonging to the old Manchu régime have become to fall in with the new order and to lend their help, a sharp competition to obtain ministerial posts being evident in spite of the fact that the gauntlet of Parliament has to be run and a majority vote recorded before any appointment is valid.
One last anomaly has, however, yet to be done away with in Peking. The deposed boy Emperor still resides in the Winter Palace surrounded by a miniature court,—a state of affairs which should not be tolerated any longer as it no doubt tends to assist the rumours which every now and again are mysteriously spread by interested parties that a Restoration is imminent. The time has arrived when not only must the Manchu Imperial Family be removed far from the capital but a scheme worked out for commuting the pension-system of so-called Bannerman families who still draw their monthly allowances as under the Manchus, thanks to the articles of Favourable Treatment signed at the time of abdication of 1912. When these two important questions have been settled, imperialism in China will tend rapidly to fade into complete oblivion.
FOOTNOTES:
[ [21] ] Although the events dealt with in Chapter XVI have brought China face to face with a new crisis the force of the arguments used here is in no wise weakened.
[ [22] ] Since this was written two Cabinet Ministers have been summarily arrested.