Now the sovereign has three rights, the right to be consulted, the right to encourage, and the right to warn. In the course of a long reign a king would acquire the same advantage which a permanent under-secretary has over his superior, the parliamentary secretary. But whenever there is discussion between a king and the minister, the king's opinion would have its full weight, and the minister's would not. The whole position is evidently attractive to an intelligent, sagacious and original sovereign. But we cannot expect a lineal series of such kings. Neither theory nor experience warrant any such expectations. The only fit material for a constitutional king is a prince who begins early to reign, who in his youth is superior to pleasure, is willing to labour, and has by nature a genius for discretion.
III.--The House of Lords and the House of Commons
The use of the order of the lords in its dignified capacity is very great. The mass of men require symbols, and nobility is the symbol of mind. The order also prevents the rule of wealth. The Anglo-Saxon has a natural instinctive admiration of wealth for its own sake; but from the worst form of this our aristocracy preserves us, and the reverence for rank is not so base as the reverence for money, or the still worse idolatry of office. But as the picturesqueness of society diminishes, aristocracy loses the single instrument of its peculiar power.
The House of Lords as an assembly has always been not the first, but the second. The peers, who are of the most importance, are not the most important in the House of Peers. In theory, the House of Lords is of equal rank with the House of Commons; in practice it is not. The evil of two co-equal houses is obvious. If they disagree, all business is suspended. There ought to be an available decisive authority somewhere. The sovereign power must be comeatable. The English have made it so by the authority of the crown to create new peers. Before the Reform Act the members of the peerage swayed the House of Commons, and the two houses hardly collided except on questions of privilege. After the Reform Bill the house ceased to be one of the latent directors and palpable alterers.
It was the Duke of Wellington who presided over the change, and from the duke himself we may learn that the use of the House of Lords is not to be a bulwark against revolution. It cannot resist the people if the people are determined. It has not the control of necessary physical force. With a perfect lower house, the second chamber would be of scarcely any value; but beside the actual house, a revising and leisured legislature is extremely useful. The cabinet is so powerful in the commons that it may inflict minor measures on the nation which the nation does not like. The executive is less powerful in the second chamber, which may consequently operate to impede minor instances of parliamentary tyranny.
The House of Lords has the advantage: first, of being possible; secondly, of being independent. It is accessible to no social bribe, and it has leisure. On the other hand, it has defects. In appearance, which is the important thing, it is apathetic. Next, it belongs exclusively to one class, that of landowners. This would not so greatly matter if the House of Lords could be of more than common ability, but being an hereditary chamber, it cannot be so. There is only one kind of business in which our aristocracy retain a certain advantage. This is diplomacy. And aristocracy is, in its nature, better suited to such work. It is trained to the theatrical part of life; it is fit for that if it is fit for anything. Otherwise an aristocracy is inferior in business. These various defects would have been lessened if the House of Lords had not resisted the creation of life peers.
The dignified aspect of the House of Commons is altogether secondary to its efficient use. Its main function is to choose our president. It elects the people whom it likes, and it dismisses whom it dislikes, too. The premier is to the house what the house is to the nation. He must lead, but he can only lead whither they will follow. Its second function is expressive, to express the mind of the English people. Thirdly, it ought to teach the nation. Fourthly, to give information, especially of grievances--not, as in the old days, to the crown, but to the nation. And, lastly, there is the function of legislation. I do not separate the financial function from the rest of the legislative. In financial affairs it lies under an exceptional disability; it is only the minister who can propose to tax the people, whereas on common subjects any member can propose anything. The reason is that the house is never economical; but the cabinet is forced to be economical, because it has to impose the taxation to meet, the expenditure.
Of all odd forms of government, the oddest really is this government by public meeting. How does it come to be able to govern at all? The principle of parliament is obedience to leaders. Change your leader if you will, but while you have him obey him, otherwise you will not be able to do anything at all. Leaders to-day do not keep their party together by bribes, but they can dissolve. Party organisation is efficient because it is not composed of warm partisans. The way to lead is to affect a studied and illogical moderation.
Nor are the leaders themselves eager to carry party conclusions too far. When an opposition comes into power, ministers have a difficulty in making good their promises. They are in contact with the facts which immediately acquire an inconvenient reality. But constituencies are immoderate and partisan. The schemes both of extreme democrats and of philosophers for changing the system of representation would prevent parliamentary government from working at all. Under a system of equal electoral districts and one-man vote, a parliament could not consist of moderate men. Mr. Hare's scheme would make party bands and fetters tighter than ever.
A free government is that which the people subject to it voluntarily choose. If it goes by public opinion, the best opinion which the nation will accept, it is a good government of its kind. Tried by this rule, the House of Commons does its appointing business well. Of the substantial part of its legislative task, the same may be said. Subject to certain exceptions, the mind and policy of parliament possess the common sort of moderation essential to parliamentary government. The exceptions are two. First, it leans too much to the opinions of the landed interest. Also, it gives too little weight to the growing districts of the country, and too much to the stationary. But parliament is not equally successful in elevating public opinion, or in giving expression to grievances.