Just as matters seemed about to result in a final settlement, King Edward died, and a conference between the leaders of both parties was set up to tide over the awkward interval. The conference was an experiment doomed to failure, as the Liberals had nothing to give away and compromise could only mean a sacrifice of principle. The House met in November to wind up the business, and the Prime Minister announced that an appeal would be made to the country on the single issue of the Lords' veto, the specific proposals of the Government being placed before the electorate. A Liberal Government was returned to power for the third time in December, 1910, with practically the same majority as in January. The Parliament Bill was introduced and passed in all its stages through the House of Commons with large majorities.
Meanwhile, the Conservatives made no attempt to defend either the action or composition of the House of Lords, but adopted an apologetic attitude. They agreed that the Second Chamber must be reformed, and during the second general election in 1910 some of them declared for the Referendum as a solution of the difficulty of deadlocks between the two Houses. But there was an entire absence of sincerity about their proposals, which were not thought out, but obviously only superficial expedients hurriedly grasped at by a party in distress. Their reform scheme, introduced by Lord Lansdowne, was revolutionary, and, at the same time, fanciful and confused. It was ridiculed by their opponents, and received with frigid disapproval by their supporters. Still, they acted as if they were confident that in the long run they could ward off the final blow. They were persuaded that the Liberal Government would neither have the courage nor the power to accomplish their purpose. "Why waste time over abstract resolutions?" asked Mr. Balfour. "The Liberal party," he said, "has a perfect passion for abstract resolutions"—and again, "it is quite obvious they do not mean business." Even when the Bill itself was introduced, they still did not believe that its passage through the House of Lords could be forced. The opposition to the Bill was not so much due to hatred of the actual provisions as fear of its consequences. The prospect of a Liberal Government being able to pass measures which for long have been part of their program, such as Home Rule, Welsh Disestablishment, or Electoral Reform, exasperated the party who had hitherto been secured against the passage of measures of capital importance introduced by their opponents. The anti-Home Rule cry and the supposed dictatorship of the Irish Nationalist leader were utilized to the full, and were useful when constitutional and reasoned argument failed. At the same time as much as possible was made of the composite character of the majority supporting the Government.
Throughout the latter part of the controversy there is little doubt that the Conservatives would have been in a far stronger position had they acted as a united party with a definite policy and a strong leader ready at a moment's notice to form an alternative Government. But they were deplorably led, they could agree on no policy, and their warmest supporters in the Press and in the country were the first to admit that the formation of an alternative Conservative Administration was unthinkable. Nevertheless, there could be no rival for the leadership. Mr. Balfour, aloof, indifferent, without enthusiasm, and without convictions, although discredited in the country and harassed in his attempts to save his party from Protection, remains in ability, Parliamentary knowledge, experience and skill, head and shoulders above his very mediocre band of colleagues in the House of Commons.
The Bill went up to the House of Lords, where Lord Morley, with the tact and skill of an experienced statesman and the unflinching firmness of a lifelong Liberal, conducted it through a very rough career. The Lords' amendments were destructive of the principle, and therefore equivalent to rejection. But even a few days before those amendments were returned to the Commons the Conservatives refused to believe that the passage of the Bill in its original form was guaranteed. When at last it was brought home to them that, if necessary, the King would be advised to create a sufficient number of Peers to insure the passage of the Bill into law, a howl of indignation went up. Scenes of confusion and unmannerly exhibitions of temper took place in the House of Commons. A party of revolt was formed among the Peers, and the Prime Minister was branded as a traitor who was guilty of treason and whose advice to the King in the words of the vote of censure was "a gross violation of constitutional liberty."
As a matter of fact, Mr. Asquith was adhering very strictly to the letter and spirit of the Constitution. Lord Grey, who was confronted with a similar problem in 1832, very truly said: "If a majority of this House (House of Lords) is to have the power whenever they please of opposing the declared and decided wishes both of the Crown and the people without any means of modifying that power, then this country is placed entirely under the influence of an uncontrollable oligarchy. I say that if a majority of this House should have the power of acting adversely to the Crown and the Commons, and was determined to exercise that power without being liable to check or control, the Constitution is completely altered, and the Government of the country is not a limited monarchy; it is no longer, my Lords, the Crown, the Lords and Commons, but a House of Lords—a separate oligarchy—governing absolutely the others."
Had the Prime Minister submitted to the Lords' dictation after two general elections, in the second of which the verdict of the country was taken admittedly and exclusively on the actual terms of the Parliament Bill, he would have basely betrayed the Constitution in acknowledging by his submission that the Peers were the supreme rulers over the Crown and over the Commons, and could without check overrule the declared expression of the people's will. The Lord Chancellor pointed out the danger in one sentence. "This House alone in the Constitution is to be free of all control." No doubt the creation of ten Peers would not have caused such a commotion as the creation of 400, but the principle is precisely the same, and it was only the magnitude of partizan bias in the Second Chamber that made the creation of a large number necessary in the event of there being determined opposition. It was a most necessary and salutary lesson for the Lords that they should be shown, in as clear and pronounced a way as possible, that the Constitution provided a check against their attempt at despotism, just as the marked disapproval of the electorate, as shown, for instance, in the remarkable series of by-elections in 1903-1905, or by a reverse at a general election, is the check provided against the arbitrary or unpopular action of any Government. The Peers were split up into two parties, those who accepted Lord Lansdowne's pronouncement that, as they were no longer "free agents," there was nothing left for them but to submit to the inevitable, and those who desired to oppose the Bill to the last and force the creation of Peers. The view of the latter section, led by Lord Halsbury, was an expression of the wide-spread impatience and annoyance with Mr. Balfour's weak and vacillating leadership. All the counting of heads and the guesses as to how each Peer would behave afforded much material for sensational press paragraphs and rather frivolous speculation and intrigue. The action of any Peer in any circumstance is always supposed to be of national importance. The vision of large numbers of active Peers was a perfect feast for the public mind, at least so the newspapers thought. But in reality the final outcry, the violent speeches, the sectional meetings, the vituperation and passion were quite unreal and of very little consequence. One way or the other, the passage of the Bill was secure.
The Vote of Censure brought against the Government afforded the Prime Minister a convenient opportunity of frankly taking the House into his confidence. With the King's consent, he disclosed all the communications, hitherto kept secret, which had passed between the Sovereign and his Ministers. He rightly claimed that all the transactions had been "correct, considerate, and constitutional." Mr. Asquith's brilliant and sagacious leadership impressed even his bitterest opponents. It only remained for the Lords not to insist on their amendments. Unparalleled excitement attended their final decision. The uncompromising opponents among the Unionist Peers, rather than yield at the last moment, threw over Lord Lansdowne's leadership. They were bent on forcing a creation of Peers, although Lord Morley warned them of the consequences. "If we are beaten on this Bill to-night," he declared, "then his Majesty will consent to such a creation of Peers as will safeguard the measure against all possible combinations in this House, and the creation will be prompt." In numbers the "Die-hards," as they were called, were known to exceed a hundred, and it was extremely doubtful right up to the actual moment when the division was taken if the Government would receive the support of a sufficient number of cross-bench Peers, Unionist Peers, and Bishops to carry the Bill. After a heated debate, chiefly taken up by violent recriminations between the two sections of the Opposition, the Lords decided by a narrow majority of seventeen not to insist on their amendments, and the Bill was passed and received the Royal assent.
Now that the smoke has cleared off the field of battle, let us state in a few sentences what the Parliament Bill which has caused all this uproar really is. It is by no means unnecessary to do this, as those who take a close interest in political events are, perhaps, unaware of the incredible ignorance which exists as to the cause and essence of the whole controversy, especially among that class of society who read head-lines but not articles, who never attend political meetings, but whose strong prejudices make them active and influential. The Parliament Bill, or rather the Act, does not even place a Liberal Government on an equal footing with a Unionist Government. It insures that Liberal measures, if persisted in, may become law in the course of two years in spite of the opposition of the Second Chamber. It lays down once and for all that finance or money Bills can not be vetoed or amended by the House of Lords—which, after all, is only an indorsement of what was accepted till 1909 as the constitutional practise—and it limits the duration of Parliament to five years. The preamble of the Bill, which is regarded with a good deal of suspicion by advanced Radicals, indicates that the reform of the Second Chamber is to be undertaken subsequently.
This is the bare record of the sequence of events in the Parliamentary struggle between the two Houses, each supported by one of the two great political parties. In the course of the controversy the real significance of the conflict was liable to be hidden under the mass of detail connected with constitutional law, constitutional and political history, and Parliamentary procedure, which had to be quoted in speeches on every platform and referred to repeatedly in debate. The serious deadlock between the Lords and Commons was not a mere inconvenience in the conduct of legislation, nor was it purely a technical constitutional problem. The issue was not between the 670 members of the House of Commons and the 620 members of the House of Lords, nor between the Liberal Government and the Tory Opposition. The full purport of the contest is broader and far more vital; it must be sought deeper down in the wider sphere of our social and national life. In a word, the rising tide of democracy has broken down another barrier, and the privileges and presumptions of the aristocracy have received a shattering blow. This aspect of the case is worth studying.
There could be no conflict of any importance between the two Houses so long as the Commons were practically nominees of the Lords. At the end of the eighteenth century no fewer than 306 members of the House of Commons were virtually returned by the influence of 160 persons, landowners and boroughmongers, most of whom were members of the other House. Things could work smoothly enough in these circumstances, as the two Houses represented the same interests and the same class, and the territorial aristocracy dominated without effort over a silent and subservient people.