CONTENTS

PAGE
PREFACE[5]
CHAPTER
I.THE MEMBER AND THE CONSTITUENCY[11]
II.WOOING OF THE ELECTORS[20]
III.A NEW PARLIAMENT IN THE MAKING[33]
IV.THE COUNTRY’S VERDICT[53]
V.TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF THE M.P.[66]
VI.THE FASCINATION OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS[80]
VII.PALACE OF WESTMINSTER[88]
VIII.ASSEMBLING OF THE NEW PARLIAMENT[103]
IX.TAKING THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE[115]
X.MR. SPEAKER[122]
XI.“ORDER, ORDER!”[130]
XII.HOW A GOVERNMENT IS MADE[141]
XIII.DISAPPOINTED HOPES[154]
XIV.THE KING AND HIS MINISTERS AND THE COUNTRY[166]
XV.OFFICE AND ITS SPOILS[175]
XVI.PENSIONS FOR MINISTERS[187]
XVII.THE SPEECH FROM THE THRONE[201]
XVIII.DEBATE ON THE ADDRESS TO THE KING[218]
XIX.THE SERJEANT-AT-ARMS[225]
XX.A NIGHT IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS[235]

THE PAGEANT OF PARLIAMENT

CHAPTER I
THE MEMBER AND THE CONSTITUENCY

1

At the General Election the Party in office throws down its superb challenge to the Party in Opposition. “We appeal,” they say, “to the solemn judgment of the Nation on the political issues in contention between us.” This invoking of the electors’ decision at once raises a question of political morality as well as of constitutional practice—the relation in which a Member of Parliament rightly stands to his constituency. Is the M.P. a representative or a delegate? As these capacities may be said to be in a sense identical, it is well to put the question in a fuller and more definite form. Is the M.P. an agent sent to the House of Commons by the electors of a certain geographical district to state their opinions solely and act in accordance with them, or may he exercise his own independent judgment, even against the will of those to whom he owes his seat in the Assembly? Edmund Burke dealt with this question on the hustings at Bristol, during the General Election of 1774, in a speech that is memorable in political literature as a classic statement of the constitutional position of an M.P., in the opinion of the representative, at least, and also, it must be said, in the opinion of a large body of the electors. Burke said it ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him, their opinions high respect, their business unremitted attention. “But,” Burke goes on, “his unbiased opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the Law and the Constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes you not his industry only, but his judgment, and he betrays instead of serves you if he sacrifices it to your opinions.” Nevertheless, Burke was returned to the House of Commons as Member for Bristol in 1774, for no more exalted reason than that his political views were in accord with those of the majority of the constituency in regard to the matters that then divided Tories and Whigs.

In 1778 Burke supported two Bills that were presented to the House of Commons, one relaxing some of the restrictions on Irish trade, the other removing some of the civil disabilities of the Roman Catholics. These votes were in conformity with Burke’s mature judgment as a statesman as well as with his Irish prepossessions. But they were also directly in opposition to the material interests and the religious tenets of the people of Bristol. That being so, Burke fell into disfavour, and, however honourably his unpopularity was earned, it was inevitable that he should be brought to account by his constituents on the first opportunity. This was afforded by the General Election of 1780. In a noble speech from the hustings in defence of his action, he exclaimed: “I did not obey your instructions. No; I conformed to the instructions of truth and Nature, and maintained your interests against your opinions with a constancy that became me.” He went on, in passages of moving power and earnestness, to declare that he did not stand before them accused of any venality or neglect of duty. “No,” he cried, “the charges against me are all of one kind: that I have pushed the principles of general justice and benevolence too far, further than a cautious policy would warrant, and further than the opinions of many would go along with me. In every accident which may happen through life—in pain, in sorrow, in depression, and distress, I will call to mind this accusation and be comforted.” But the popular prejudice against Burke—a prejudice aroused solely by the expression of his liberality and broad-mindedness in action—was too strong to be overcome. The great statesman and philosopher was compelled to retire early from the contest, badly beaten.

The electors of Bristol have been put in the pillory for intolerance and selfishness, while Burke stands, for all time, a shining example of self-sacrificing devotion to independence of mind. Many years have passed since then—years of steady advance in political enlightenment, and in public duty on the part of electors as well as of representatives—and questions, more vital and fundamental, arise constantly for settlement. Yet where to-day is the constituency ready to elect a man who is opposed to its political views, however great a genius he may be, and however stainless his honour? There is nothing more certain than that Bristol would expel Burke in the twentieth century as it expelled him in the eighteenth, if his political opinions were distasteful to the majority of the electors, or if his parliamentary actions were opposed to what they conceived to be their interests. A hundred years hence the Nation may have reason to bewail our obtuseness, and, in resentment of the trouble we have caused them, bitterly to cry out—“Fools, fools, fools!” The thought does not disturb our political equanimity. We are resolved to yield our opinions, prepossessions, prejudices to no man who would tell us to think and act differently—aye, though he be our M.P.!

In no constituency will the plea be accepted that the Member must be allowed to decide what is best ultimately for it against its opinions, or even against its prejudices—if, indeed, the one can be distinguished from the other in politics. It is not only that in this conflict of one mind against many the wrong-headedness is just as much likely to exist in the representative as in the constituents. What is more, the representative system is a check, not on the people, but for the people. The chief function of the House of Commons is to protect the people’s rights and extend their social well-being; and as under our democratic system the people are free to vote as they please and for whom they please, it is inevitable that they should constitute themselves, in each constituency, the supreme judge as to the man best fitted faithfully to discharge a trust that means so much to them. That is not to say that a Member of Parliament is expected to outrage his honour and conscience by supporting measures which he secretly abhors, or believes in his heart to be detrimental in the long run to the true interests of the Nation, because they find favour with a majority of his constituents, and to oppose them would entail the loss of his seat. He votes, of course, according to his convictions. Nor is it necessary for him to comport himself in an attitude of servility towards the electorate. Once he is returned he may, if he so pleases, entirely change his politics, and cross the floor of the House of Commons without having beforehand to go back to his constituency, as a delegate in a like situation would be bound to refer to the body or society of which he was the chosen spokesman. The constituency has no immediate control over the representative. They cannot forthwith deprive him of his authority and position, as a society or other body can recall and supersede a delegate. But the representative who votes according to personal convictions which are out of harmony with the political principles of the majority of his constituency must be ready to pay the penalty of this conflict between his opinion and their judgment—the penalty of being summarily dismissed, like Burke, at the earliest opportunity. In a word, such a representative is rejected by the constituency for the very same reason that the country frequently discharges a Government at the General Election—incompatibility of political temper. The feeling of most electors is that they would be false to themselves—false, at any rate, to their opinions—were they to vote for a candidate with whom they were in disagreement on political issues, no matter how great he might be as a man.