"^JSuowsoi^v^ "v/iaaAiNn-avw^ ^iyojiivDJo^ ^' j^MEUNIVni% ^lOSANCElfj^ ^/SAlNn-3ftV^ ^^OFCALIFOi?^;, ^OFCAUFOftt}, ^^WEUNIVERS/a a>:U)SAKCEI% |\2^^ #^/CNt: ^^,.-4=^^ t/-V-.^ •^i oe 54\El)NIVER^, iOSANCElfx> ^l-UBRARYO^ ^1-IIBRARY(9/^ %iUAlNniHV^' '^i^OJIlVDJO'^ '^iSOdllVDJO'^ >i.OFCAllF0% ^OFCALIF0% >&Aaviiain'^ ^(JAavaanvJ^ 'uuaiivj-jv 'UIJ311V J 3V -WEUNIVERS/^ ^lOSANCElfj-;^ ,/soi^ ^iUAiNnaVLV 3> =: ^^OFCAllFOff^ ^ £? 5i ^.OFCAllfO% ^-«^ o ,\WEUNIVER% ^lOSAKCEier^ o >&Aavjian# IVERr//. .^lOSANCf^n> O ^l-UBRARYQ^. VSOl^ %a3AINrt-3y\V^ '^^OJIIVDJO'^ '^(tfOJIlVDJO'^ V£R% ^lOSANGElij>. ^-OFCAIIFO/?^ ^OFCA1!FO% m\^ "^/siaAiNfl-Jiw^ "^(^Aavaan-^ "^(JAavaan-i^ ARYQ^ R . ^lUBRARYar, AWEUNIVERS/a ^ ^lOSAMCElCr^ AWEUNIVERJ/a ^10SANCEI% THE COMING DEMOOEACY BY G. rHAEWOOD AUTHOR OF " DISESTABLISHMEXT" hf. LONDON MACMILLAN AND CO. 1882 All Rights Reserved. L N D X : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SOXS, Limited, STAJIKOKU STUEET AND CHARIKG CKOSS. CONTENTS. BOOK I. '''THE DEMOCRACY AND FOREIGN POLITICS ! BOOK II. I THE DEMOCRACY AND HOME POLITICS BOOK III. THE DEMOCRACY AND RELIGION PAGE 3 38 PART I.— CONSTITUTIONAL POLITICS. Introduction .. ih. Chap. I. — The Crown .. 53 „ II. — The House of Lords .. .. 65 ^ „ III.^The House of Commons .. 91 H s PART II.— SOCIAL POLITICS. ea Introduction .. 139 Chap. I. — The Upper Classes .. .. 147 „ II. — The Middle Classes .. .. 235 „ III. — The Lower Classes .. .. 278 347 y8GS4.3 21702-^ THE COMING DEMOCBACY. BOOK I. THE DEMOCRACY AND FOREIGN POLITICS. 7i « THE DEMOCRACY AND FOREIGN POLITICS. It is well known what a change is often made in the management of an estate when another takes possession, even though the new master may be of the same class, even of the same blood, as the old one, with similar tastes and traditions, a similar mind and education. But the change is certain to be much greater when the inheritance falls to a man of quite another class ; born of a different character, bred amidst different surroundings, and taught all his life, both by words and still more by circumstances, to encourage different aspirations and follow different ideals. jSTow the estate, with all its various possessions and influences, here and throughout the world, which is attached to the Government of this country, is about to pass into other hands. The Middle Class, which seized the possession some half century ago, has made, whether from generous surrender or anticipatory compulsion matters not, such changes in the tenure as must lead eventually to the advent of another master. The first Reform Bills, including in that term a group of kindred measures, turned out the Aristocracy, and the last will bring in the Democracy. B 2 The Coming Democracy. But it may be said that this is mere theorising, and that of a sort whose conclusions do not harmonise with the facts of English politics, for people are not divided into classes in this clean-cut fashion ; and even if they were, political action would not be so deter- mined by any one of them. Now as to the first, whilst acknowledging to the full the immorality of creating class divisions, and the mischief of exaggerating such as already exist, we must, if we would form any opinions worth the name, and follow any guide other than blind chance, not shut our ears to the voice of the past nor our eyes to the vision of the present. And both of these teach us plainly that, in every developed civilisation, men roughly have fallen into the three classes of those who do the work, those who direct it, and those who profit by it through ownership of some sort or other. They teach us, too, that these classes gradually acquire different characteristics, with opposing ideals and aims. In- asmuch as they all depend upon the common production, of course they all agree in wishing this to be as great as possible, but they differ about their separate shares. These differences lie at the root of most of our greatest political difficulties, as the Land Question and taxation generally in England, and Socialism on the continent. Politics have more to do with distributing the national burden than with altering its total weight, and since such distribution must be chiefly a matter of classes, politics must be largely concerned with these. But, granting this, it may be asked why the interests of any one class should rule the rest. Perhaps it might be possible to form a Constitution in which this would be avoided, but in England there has been no attempt to The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 5 do this. Certainly we do not see signs of this in a Reform Bill which gave the complete voting pre- dominance in the towns to the class which works, to be followed by another which will do the same in the country, and another which will redistribute power in the House of Commons in the same direction. It is not here a question of whether these measures are right or wrong, or rather, wise or foolish, but of what must be their mevitable effect. This effect may be welcomed by their supporters, and dreaded by their enemies, but in any case it will be certain ; for to suppose that a class which has got into its hands the supreme power, will not use it in the direction of its own interest, as others have used it before, is to ask that class to dare to do more, if not than may become men, at any rate than may be expected of them. But where are the signs of this change ? This last Parliament seems, both in personnel and tone, very like its predecessors : it has the same sprinkling of young aristocrats ; the same, or pretty nearly the same, con- tingent of squires; the same superfluity of barristers who have been successful and would be still more so ; and the same multitude who have qualified for states- manship by making money in trade or speculation. Does this look like Democracy ? Far from it ; but we must not be hasty, for until we can manage to reform Nature and hurry her processes in accordance with modern notions, we must be content to wait whilst effects are developed from causes in the slow, old- fashioned manner. But they will come at last, we may be sure of that ; the mills may grind slowly, but they will grind " exceeding small." Meanwhile we may bear The Coming Democracy. in mind that the two most difficult tilings for men to do are to learn and to forget ; to learn a new art, and to forget an old habit. Politics are not so much a science as an art, the knowledge of which will often, as was seen in the United States of America before the late war, enable the weaker to rule the stronger. But only for a time ; the art gradually gets learned, the old association gradually wears away, and strength is sure at last to assert itself, as Hector had in the end to yield to Achilles. Even so it must be here. The people may still run in the same grooves, from the impetus of the past, and follow the same organisations ; for the Demo- cracy has not yet had time to understand what is this new joower it has received, much less how to use it. But a new generation will gradually learn both of these, and will then soon put this knowledge into practice. So we must expect to see the masses of the people eventually using their own methods, instead of conform- ing to those of their predecessors ; producing their own leaders, instead of following those offered by others ; and bringing forward their own measures, instead of being contented with those which chiefly interest the Middle Classes. But we must distinguish between " interest " and " interests." It is not to be supposed for a moment that the class which may be in power will solely pursue what are understood to be its " interests " in the narrow sense of the term, for this is not the way of Englishmen ; but it will, indeed it must, do that which chiefly arouses its interest, and in the way in which it so arouses it. Un- doubtedly much recent legislation, though middle class in character, has had for its chief object the promotion The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 7 of the best interests of the working classes : but there is a great difference between what other people consider to be our interests, and what we believe them to be our- selves ; also between havmg the same thing done for us, and doing it for ourselves. Though the persons con- cerned may be in both cases the same, there will be a great step from legislation for the working classes to legislation % them. Of course, the effects of such a step will be modified by many practical circumstances. For as Governments since the first Reform Bill have consisted of pretty much the same sort of men as before, so probably they will con- tinue to consist, though perhaps in a less degree ; but just as their policy then ceased to be aristocratic, so it will eventually become democratic. There is always one chief force, and tliis must determine the general direc- tion of the resultant, though others may modify its course. We cannot, then, escape, even if we would, from this conclusion, that though opinions may differ as to how long it will be before the heir comes of age, we may all be sure that when that time does arrive, he will take full possession of his inheritance. It is therefore of great consequence to know how he will regard it, and what he will do with it. Probably the part which will most strike his fancy, will not be the home estate, however rich and attrac- tive, but the foreign possessions, so numerous and wide- spread and various, with all the influences which these imply. For whatever may be the weaknesses of demo- cracies, the shop-keeping temper — so called for want of any better term — is not one of them. Democracies The Coming Democracy. are moved by large appeals to the imagination, and it would be hard to find such a one as the smiple fact of the British Empire. It is this wliich will cliiefly catch the eye of History in looking back upon England ; for it will see that a little group of islands, hanging on to the skirts of Europe, sulidued and held for generations under its contented sway, vast territories in all parts of the globe ; ruling old nations of almost every race and creed, and civilising new lands of almost every kind and clime. And it is this which will chiefly puzzle the mind of History, to understand how a people, never very numerous, or seeming to possess much military skill or system, could have done all this so well that they made theirs the ruling civilisation of the world for so long, and exercised an influence, as much stronger as their Empire was greater than that of Eome, which alone could be thought of in comparison. It may be easy to say that this is foolish boasting, but the truer feeling is that expressed by Wordsworth in the ode on the ' General Thanksgiving ' : " O Britain ! deai'er far than life is dear, If one there be Of all thy progeny Who can forget thy prowess, never more Be that ungrateful son allowed to hear Th}^ green leaves rustle or thy torrents roar." Besides, it will be hard to see how any ruins of the past can be left for posterity to gaze at, if these facts do not stand out amongst the most prominent ; it may be doubted, indeed, whether this earth has room enough, within the possible range of history, for such another set of phenomena. But w^e are only concerned now The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 9 with how the Democracy will bear itself towards these facts ; and we believe that, with the instinct often given to Democracies, it will anticipate the verdict of History, and fix on that as the best part of its inheritance, which the future will show to have been so. This choice would be made merely on general con- siderations, for those who think that the masses of the people care for none of these things, know Kttle of their real temper ; but there are many special considerations also pulling the same way. It is the blood of the people which has chiefly won this Empire, and it is their muscle which holds it; it is their sons who are strugglmg to bring under man's service these regions far and wide, and it is their daughters who are rearing children to be their future masters : there is scarcely a cottage in any street or on any hillside which has not tender ties with some land or other under British rule. Emigration comes rather of necessity than choice, for it is hard to find a land as pleasant as our own ; so it is not the rich who go forth, but those who have to earn their bread, and therefore these are the people at home most interested in the lands to which their kindred have gone. The Democracy is sure, then, to give great attention to the foreign possessions of the country, as well because by these its imagination will be most fired, as because in them its interests are most con- cerned ; it will thus be drawn both " with cords of a man " and " with bands of love." This expectation is opposed, and perhaps on that account may be considered the more probable, to the ideas of many politicians, who seem to have no suspicion but that the people will go on being chiefly interested in 10 The Coming Democracy. what chiefly interests their rulers now. But it is not unreasonable to suppose that the Democracy may care less about arrangements to enable rich people to get richer, or about schemes to stop off its own refresh- ments, than about the position which its forefathers, and they almost alone, have won, over the lands in which its children, and they almost alone, are settled. This fact, at any rate, is significant, that all the organisations, as Trade Unions for example, which hitherto have been able to rouse the enthusiasm of the working classes, are founded upon principles directly opposed to the economic doctrines which the Middle Classes consider indisputable. So we may find that in the region of foreign politics, the people will adopt principles wliich will lead to a very different course from that which is now expected. We shall be told, however, that in such matters the masses of the people can never have either the know- ledge or leisure to form principles for themselves ; but if they do take action, must adopt their decisions from time to time under the government of circum- stances. But we must not overlook the power of ideals, which is all the greater where reasons have less influence. The old " idols," whether of the forum or market-place, have quite as many worshippers as in the days of Athens ; for if we look below the actions of a nation, in any relationship, we shall generally find them, however varied, determined by a few ruling beliefs or feelings, in either case ideals, just as the same force makes the waves both ebb and flow. And this is providential ; for since the majority have neither the time nor training to weigh circumstances The Democracy and Foreign Politics, ii and reasons, if they are to come to any conclusions at all for themselves, they must rely upon principles few enough to be easily remembered, and simple enough to be easily applied. Hence the peculiar danger to Democracies of having their radical faiths disturbed. In each great region of action they must have at least one guiding ideal. Hitherto the region of foreign politics has not been to the British Democracy one of action, at any rate of systematic action, for whatever part it has taken has only been by way of transient interference. But soon now this region must come under its continued sway, and then it will be compelled to adopt some ruling principle. Wliat will this be ? Upon the answer will depend, more than upon any one thing, the future history of England ; since such a principle governs not only our relationship to our dependencies, but also all our chief wars, for these come in consequence of our imperial position. And first let us see what principles are advocated, pre- suming, of course, in regard to all of them, that in ordinary times the Empire will go on as before ; for the difference only tells when a crisis arises, placing us in difficulty and danger, and requiring decision and self sacrifice. Looking at the condition of political parties and the general tone of political life, we may say that substan- tially, though, of course, with many variations and modifications, there are only two leading ideals now offered to the choice of the Democracy, In the con- tingency when it seems that the Empire can only be maintained at considerable cost, one of these ideals says that any cost should be submitted to because Empire is glorious, whilst the other says that no cost should be 12 The Coming Democracy. incurred which cannot be made to pay, because Empire is not worth it. Will either of these be able to win the Democracy ? Let us hear what they have to say for themselves. The first tells us how our forefathers, through many generations, have struggled and fought and suffered and died to put together this great Empire, and how our own position as a nation is involved in the mainten- ance of its integrity, and in its extension should any- one threaten our supremacy. For England is, and must continue to be, the first of countries, and it is worth any sacrifice to keep ' Eule Britannia ' as the political hymn of the world. To this the Democracy will reply, that glory is all very well, but it is a whistle which may be bought too dearly ; for what good is it to the man without food or shoes, or even to the masses whose energies are ex- hausted in the struggle to make ends meet ? Glory, like charity, should begin at home ; it is a luxury which ought not to be purchased at the price of necessities ; and the nation which, to gain tliis, sacrifices its own well-being and happiness, can only be considered a fool for its pains. Now the Empire does require great sacrifices from the British people ; it has plunged us into many a war, loaded us with many a debt, slaugh- tered our people, exhausted our resources, distracted our energies, and constantly requires from us a vast expenditure to guard against its dangers and preserve its integrity. Is it worth all this ? Not merely to the Upper Classes, who receive its honours, or to the Middle Classes, who gain its profits, but to the bulk of the people, who seem only to get the honour of fighting The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 13 and the profit of paying. If glory is to be tlie leading motive and chief return, then the Democracy will decidedly answer " No." The English people will not, like the simple Moses, part with its cow for a pair of green spectacles. And the second ideal comes from a further develop- ment of the spirit of tliis reply. It tells us that this EmjDire is not an addition to our inheritance but a mortgage upon it, incurred through the recklessness and vain-glory of our forefathers. Like prudent heirs, our aim should be to get this paid off so that our liabilities may be lightened. We have enough, and too mucli, to do to mind our own business, and we shall best promote our welfare by developing our resources at home, diminishing our expenses, extending our trade, and increasing our comforts. We must not add to our dependencies; and though we need not turn off those we possess, we should let them understand that we shall make no sacrifice to keep them, but shall be glad to let them go whenever they wish. Now, will the Democracy take up with this ideal ? Most probably not, apparently favourable to its interests as it may be; for though their condition might seem to make us expect the contrary, it is a fact that the workmg classes are the least influenced by economical considerations. Those who have watched public feeling can testify that the political tenets usually spoken of as those of the " Manchester school," have very little hold indeed over the working men of the north, and those who think that the last election indicates an increased tendency in that direction, misread the signs of the tunes. It may be from ignorance, or thoughtlessness, or in- 14 The Coming Democracy. capacity ; it may be because men need to have money to care much about it, for in general it is only when we have ceased to require, that we give ourselves up to acquiring ; but whatever may be the reason, it is certain that working men seem almost deaf to all arguments of this sort, charm they never so wisely, with the most undeniable statistics of imports and exports, production and consumption. This peculiarity is not confined to England, but is a mark of Demo- cracies — at least of Anglo-Saxon origin — everywhere ; in Australia and Canada, at the Cape and in New Zealand; and it is so marked in the United States, that the people there obstinately refuse to see the force of arguments, for doubting which anyone here is at once laughed at most readily by those who are always praising the superior education and ability of the Ameri- cans. It was this indifference which made Mr. Glad- stone's appeal to the country in 1874 on the Income Tax, miss its mark ; it might have struck the previous electorate, but the Eeform Bill had brought in a Demo- cracy which cared for none of these things. We may regret tliis supmeness, but we must reckon with it in cal- culating what ideal, in matters outside their own country, the people are likely to choose ; for we may at any rate be sure that the choice will not be dictated by economi- cal considerations, or arguments of practical utility. Tor the Democracy will say " It may be true that our Empire is very costly, and that we get no adequate return as far as figures can show, but are you sure that figures can take in everything ? Are there not multi- tudes of benefits which can find their way into no tables, yet which are very real, both to ourselves in the The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 15 old land and to our children in the new, and wliicli we should lose by separation ? Could these islands be as they are, with so large a population and so gi'eat a capital, if they stood alone ? But even if a complete profit and loss account could be made out, including everything, and this should clearly show that the balance is decidedly against us, that would not be a sufficient reason for withdrawing ; for nations, like indi- viduals, have something else to consider besides their own immediately personal interests. That ideal which teaches that a man should care only about himself, is not recommended in social life, and why should it be in national? Besides, there are duties as well as interests; and there is a responsibility involved in having received such an inheritance, however it may have been originally acquired ; just as a modern land- owner is expected to fulfil the requirements of his position, even though he may not like them himself, and the estate may have come to his ancestors as the spoil of marauding or the price of profligacy." This leads to a third ideal, which seems most likely to be the one ultimately adopted by the Democracy. Unlike the first, its aim is not power and its motive glory ; and unlike the second, its aun is not wealth and its motive selfisliness ; but its aun is progress, and its motive duty. This ideal allows that Empire requires sacrifices, and assumes that the nation will be willing to bear these, on two conditions ; firstly, that they are not greater than should be borne ; and secondly, that the bearing of them will be likely to do proportionate good. For, as to the first, it is evident that there is an amount i6 The Coming Democracy. of sacrifice beyond which no nation can be expected to go, except for such a supreme object as its own preserva- tion. Wliat this amount should be must depend in each case upon circumstances ; just as the sum that different men ought to give in charity must vary, although their dispositions may be all the same. A rich nation, like a rich man, ought to be ready to sacrifice far more than a poor one, although generally it seems just the reverse. But in considering where sacrifices should begin and end, it must be remembered that nations, like men, have no right to spend all they can fancy upon them- selves before they begin to spare for others. Although this might be the best food he ever got, Lazarus owed no thanks for the crumbs, if only because they were crumbs, and had fallen, instead of being pieces cut and sent. When a man keeps his own personal expenditure down so that he may have more to spend for good objects, our judgment approves and admires; we feel that here is one of the principles of true life. So should it be with nations : they have their own good objects, which only nations can adequately serve ; for as there are many tasks which are too great for individuals and require organisations, so there are some upon which no organisa- tion less than that of a nation can make any impression. "We need to realise more fully this idea of a nation as something more than a noun of multitude ; as an entity in itself, with its own special powers and duties. " Ye are my people, saith your God " — not a lot of people, each of whom belongs to Me, but a people — and so the • Israelites were always dealt with, and so shall we be too. They had their special work as a nation and we have ours, which is to promote the civilisation and re- The Democracy and Foreign Politics. \^ generation of the world. To help this work, we should be ready to make adequate sacrifices ; to be sparing as individuals so that we may be lavish as a nation, in the spirit of the old Eomans, who kept their private dwell- ings simple, so that their public buildings might be dignified. As to the second consideration — the good to be done — that may generally be indicated by the word Civilisa- tion. There is now a tendency to laugh at this word ; and no doubt it is easy to joke about teaching niggers to wear top boots and drink brandy, or to sneer about filling the world with railways and newspapers. But we must not be diverted from the eternal substance by transient accidents ; we must not forget that Civilisation, as the word implies, is a chief influence which is to make us all fellow-citizens, and so bring about that uni- versal brotherhood which is the ideal of humanity. Every civilisation has its own characteristics ; and the English people believe tliat, compared with any other, wliat is called the European Civilisation is the best now offered to mankind, and that theirs is the best form of it. Of course this may be called conceit, but no good work can be done in this world without such a feeling. We never teach people anything, unless we believe that we know better than they do : no prophet ever stirred men's hearts, who feared his message might be false ; no leader ever led followers to victory, who did not feel sure that his way was right. Besides, common-sense tells us that we must either believe our civilisation to be the best, or else give it up and take to a better. Still it may be said, " Best for us, perhaps, but not therefore for everybody." To this we reply, that eivil- C 1 8 The Coming Democracy. isations are, in their essence though not in their forms, universally applicable. The common characteristics of liumanity are much greater than any national differ- ences, and it is upon these characteristics that the essence of any civilisation operates. Euling civilisations have always won cosmopolitan influence, and become part of the universal inheritance of mankind. So Greece and Eome live on in us, and so we must live on in the ages to come. The English nation is bent on thus im- pressing its civilisation upon others : not that they should adopt its forms, but only accept its essence ; not, for ex- ample, that they should learn our Parliamentary System, but only the love of freedom on which this is based ; or our laws, but only the justice these attempt to admin- ister ; or our industrial methods, but only the energy and care out of which these have sprung ; or the expressions of our religion, but only its regenerating spirit. No people are so savage, or so civilised, as to be beyond these lessons ; they are applicable, in some degree and under some form, to all, and all will eventually have to learn them from someone or other. At present the English nation seems called upon to be the chief teacher, and it means to try to perform the duties of the position. It may be said that this last ideal — that of good — is, after all, only the first — that of glory — set out in a meeker dress ; for we can always defend the conquest of any people by the schoolmaster's plea for whipping, that it is to do good. But practically the two ideals would often lead to quite contrary results, for the superiority of a civilisation may be nullified by the conditions of its application ; and the nature of our position may pre- judice against our principles, and steel against our in- The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 19 fluence, those whom we wish to convert. Thus, out of many cases in which we might win territory and glory, there will only be a few in which we can do more good than harm. But we shall be told that the carrying out of this ideal will often lead us to infringe the rights of others, and to violate the principles of our own religion. As to rights, those whom we displace have generally, like ourselves, gained possession by force, but have not the same right to keep it because they do not use it as well ; for there is a wide difference between employing force for our own benefit, and for others' good. Not only peoples, but virtues, such as freedom, justice and progress, have their rights ; and probably force has its rights too, for in looking back over history we see that it has been generally given to those who were, at the time, serving the best purposes. Undoubtedly self-sacrifice is one of the primary requisites of Christianity, but sacrificing yourself does not mean keeping to yourself. It often needs more self- denial to stand up in "the fierce light which beats upon a throne" than to crouch in the darkness of obscurity ; there is often more self-sacrifice in holding to the duties of a high position than in giving way to the luxury of lowliness, and Charles V. would probably have shown more of this virtue by remaining a king than he did by retreating to a cell. And surely a nation which is willing to be taxed so that it may forward civilisation, is not less self-sacrificing, even though renown may follow, than one which gives no concern to others and so has more to spend upon itself. Our blood glows as we read how in the days of Elizabeth people C 2 20 The Coming Democracy. brought presents of all sorts so that the ships might be fitted out which founded this Empire ; and why should the same spirit be judged differently now, because such offerings must take the form of prosaic taxes ? The man who is willing to go without a carriage so that his country may found a colony, may be thought wanting in sense but not in self-sacrifice. This was considered the highest patriotism in Athens, and there is no reason why it should be judged differently in England. But we may be told, as a conclusion of the whole matter, that even though all that is said for this ideal may be true, it is absurd to suppose that the Demo- cracy will choose it. Nothing can be less likely than that the rough hard-headed masses will take up with anything so Quixotic. But, as a matter of fact, it is just amongst such people that sentiment has most power, although it is least talked about. In individual life, it is not those who gush most about heroism, who turn out the truest heroes ; and in national life it will be found that it is not the classes that seem chiefly to cultivate the higher feelings, who will do most for them, Christianity was not first adopted by the sort of people who now most praise it, and nearly all the great unselfish movements of the world have begun at the bottom. And those who have lived most amongst the working classes of England will be the first to acknowledge that nowhere are the instincts truer, or the feelings more generous. Eoughnesses there are in plenty, but re- sponsibility will soften these ; and like Prince Hal, the frolicsome heir may turn out a sober ruler, for his Iieart is right. In a theatre it is not from the gallery that immorality is encouraged, whilst nowhere is sound The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 21 principle as warmly admired. And so on the stage of real life, self-sacrificing devotion to high duty will win from the multitude both the loudest applause and the truest service. The Democracy has no doubt much to learn, and in its progress upwards it must come to that last infirmity of noble minds — ambition. There is no chance of gratifying this except collectively ; and so the masses, who cannot hope for a family history or pedigree, will wish to be remembered as having belonged to a nation which did a great work in the world. Hence that ideal which is most in harmony with this wish will be chosen : and the Democracy will make this choice all the more readily because it is comparatively free from the temptations to the others ; it can know little of individual glory, and taste little of individual gain. The choice of this ideal will not be a new departure in English politics : but only the acceptance, by a new class coming into power, of the ideal acted upon by their predecessors; for this departure has been made some time ago. England may fairly claim the credit of discovering that dependencies ought to be governed for their own good, and not chiefly for that of the mother country. No Eastern Empire of early time seems to have had the least suspicion of this principle ; Athens used the common treasure in opposition to it, and Eome lost her power through treating her territories as spoils. From the same cause, Spain failed to profit by the greatest opportunity offered to any nation in modern times, demoralising instead of civilising the whole continent of South America. This, too, is the reason why tlie Colonial Empire of Holland is melting away, and why 22 The Coming Democracy. that of France has never been consolidated. Had England made this discovery earlier, the war of American independence would never have occurred, at least when, and as, it did ; but since then, it may be asserted that this principle has, on the whole, been fairly acted upon. There may be many appearances giving excuse for the complaints about English selfishness, but solid facts testify to the benefits of English rule. That we are not liked is no proof that we are not beneficial ; and we may confidently ask History whether any country we have taken in hand has not, on the whole, been improved in those respects which come witliin the compass of rulers. Here is the justification of our Empire and the promise of its continuance ; and here, perhaps, the Coming Democracy may find a motive for its extension. For after all, men will realise that their ultimate object must be the improvement, not merely of their own country but also of the whole world. It is this aspiration wliich inspires the best democratic ideals, and which will guide the best democratic action. Fuller notice should perhaps be taken of two objec- tions which are continually urged against this probable policy of the Commg Democracy. One of these refers to its Morality and the other to its Method. As to the first, we are told that this policy must frequently lead to a violation of the rights of others. The word " rights " should be most sparingly used in political discussions, because it is most difficult to tell what it means. In this connection it is understood to convey the idea, that those who are in the possession of territory ought to be left in undisturbed power over it. But what reason can be given for such a claim ? It The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 23 is said that possession is nine points of the law, but most laws have more points than nine, and that is certainly so in this case. If history teaches one fact more than another, it is that peoples are constantly, though often it may be slowly, changing and shifting. One race occupies certain lands, and then another comes to displace it ; for man cannot have a fixed footing here collectively any more than individually. Eaces, like persons, must be pilgrims ; and no codes of political morality can stop their movements. The strong man armed can only keep his goods until a stronger than he shall come, and thus ownership passes on from master to master. So gradually, often, do these changes take place, that at times men persuade themselves that they are not going on at all, and say to each other, " Now we have got to a settlement, and whoever disturbs it shall be called a wrong-doer." But there can be no statics in politics, for all its problems are dynamical ; and time must be an element in dynamics. As Eip Van Winkle, on coming out of his long sleep, was startled with changes which were scarcely observed by those who had kept awake, so, if we compare long periods of time, we find that everywhere there is a process of change. The old Persian and Assyrian and Egyptian races have dis- appeared from the earth ; there are now no Greeks in Greece, no Eomans in Eome, no Britons in Britain, and there will soon be no Americans in America. The de- scendants of Shem, Ham and Japhet can be tied down to no map of ancestral allocation, but a remorseless fate compels them to keep dancing about over the surface of the globe. It may be said, however, that there is a wide moral 24 The Coming Democracy. difierence between submitting to a process of Nature and carrying out that process ourselves. But in human problems Nature works through human agency ; man's strength and skill and ambition and courage are all instruments in her hands. Every change in the disposi- tion of races has been brought about by means which might be called immoral ; but nearly every such change has been justified by its results. But we shall be told that this is only the wicked doctrine that " Might is Right." It may be acknow- ledged that the doctrine is here, whilst it is denied that it is wicked ; on the contrary, it may be maintained that, in its proper sense, it is based on the radical certainties of religion. Let History again be questioned. Mere brute force has never led to permanent conquest ; for no inferior race has ever displaced a superior one, except tliat superior one had first become demoralised. Infe- rior races have never swept over lands, but as scavengers clearing away for better tenants — as Attila was aptly called "The Scourge of God." The Eomans became masters of the world because they were the fittest for the work then needed, and they were broken to pieces by the uncivilised hordes because they had become unfit. Our own land has had four or five successive sets of owners, each one of which gained possession by this " might " which is so condemned. Now, if we are to be true to this " right," which is so much insisted upon, we should our- selves depart, giving place to the descendants of those whom our forefathers drove into the wilds of Cornwall and the mountains of Wales and Scotland. No " right " can be established why the Heptarchy should have been formed into one kingdom, or why Scotland and Ireland The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 25 should have been joined to England ; and Englishmen now have no other " right " to be in India or anywhere else, except the right that they are there, and can stop. So far as sovereignty of this sort is concerned, we are, whether we like it or not, evidently subject to the rule that — " Those may take who have the power, And those may keep who can." A problem is being worked out before the eyes of this generation, which strikingly illustrates how much these so-called " rights " are worth. The Turkish Empire is evidently falling to pieces ; so that all the nations which can substantiate any claim, are trying to get what they can for themselves. Is this a violation of " the rights " of the Turks ? Surely their rights, as far as they go, should be as real as those of any other people. Time is on their side, for the Turkish rule is older than the existence of France as a united kingdom. Wlien Con- stantinople fell to the Ottomans, Joan of Arc was still unburnt, and the English still claimed supremacy over the best part of what is now considered her country. Eussia was then but a limited dukedom ; Germany but an historical, and Italy but a geographical, expression; whilst Spain was still chiefly in the hands of the descendants of those Arab invaders who, eight centuries before, had dis- placed her Gothic kings. Here then is age enough to create " rights," if age can create them. Yet we do not bring them forward, to forbid the dismemberment of the Turkish Empire. If our complacency arises, as probably it does, from our dislike of the methods of the Turkish Government, or disapproval of its religion, we thus acknowledge the principle that no rights can be allowed 26 The Coming Democracy. to protect misrule and mischief. Wliat has become of the " rights " of the Indians of North America, of the natives of South Africa, of the aborigines of AustraHa, of the Maoris of New Zealand ? How would it have stood with the world if such " rights " had been allowed to jDrevent the appropriation of these lands by more capable races ? The Coming Democracy is not likely, therefore, to pay much heed to claims which have never gained a footing in history, and which are so frequently antagonistic to the general welfare of humanity. Nor is shame likely to be associated with the avowal of this indifference, for two principles may be relied upon in defence. One of these is the democratic axiom, that the resources of the world should be utilised for the good of all the people in it, and not be reserved for the neglect or incapacity of those who happen to live in its different parts ; and the other is the religious axiom, that all power, even of this sort, comes from God. One nation is not allowed to displace another neces- sarily because it is morally superior, for as Moses said to Israel, " Understand, therefore, that the Lord thy God giveth thee not this good land to possess it for thy righteousness." Therefore such a mission should not be carried on proudly, nor taken up lightly. It is not enough for a nation to be sure that it can overcome another in a few battles, and hold it down for a few- years ; but it must not enter into the conflict at all unless with the notion of benefiting the country con- cerned, and helping forward the welfare of humanity. Thus the factor of mere force is modified by all the elements which go to make up what we mean by Civili- sation ; so that the same problem lies at the root of The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 27 national as of individual progress. For force without capability is brutal, and capability without force is con- temptible ; so that only a combination of these two can entitle a man to rise or a people to extend. The other objection refers to the Method, because it is said that this must generally be that of war. As a fact, this may be acknowledged ; for, though some tribes may voluntarily seek the protection of a great power, it is not to be expected that one nation will submit to another, except through actual or potential war ; having been beaten, or feeling sure that it will be beaten if it enters on a struggle. Thus, the capacity to fight may be accepted as the ultima ratio of national authority. But, in the first place, we may ask whether this is not also that of national independence. We may arrange people ethnographically or Imguistically, religiously or locally, or on any other principle of classification ; and say to ourselves that such and such should go together as a nation : but if the unit so formed cannot hold its own by force, if need be, or get some other power to do this for it, which is the same principle, it will eventually be merged into some other nation. It may be said that this is a very low basis ; and cer- tainly we should have a right to object if war were merely a test of brute force. But it includes much more than tliis. Physical qualities no doubt count for much ; and so they should, for the welfare of humanity is involved in the production and prevalence of the best. But physical qualities alone have never decided any war of consequence. By his cynical remark, that " God always fights on the side of the biggest battalions," Napoleon may seem to have countenanced a principle which cer- 28 The Coming Democracy. tainly was not according to his own experience, and which cannot reasonably be accepted by a nation ruling populations so much larger than its own. As Virgil says, " It never troubles the wolf how many the sheep are ;" the number of the Persian hosts on the plains of Arbela did not terrify, but rather encouraged, Alexander ; and so always, mere weight of muscle is unable to turn the scale of war. Nor can this be done by mere weight of money. It is a mark of the commercial spirit of our times that so many people are found ready to repeat the manifestly absurd saying, that riches are the sinews of war ; whereas it has been notorious throughout history that the poor nations have generally beaten the rich. Indeed, the common course of events is for nations to rise to riches, and then to be swept away ; a fact which teaches, if not a contempt for wealth, at any rate, a belief that the sword of empire does not belong to its hand. It was not wealth which enabled Greece to throw back Persia, or Macedonia to conquer it ; nor did the want of money cause the defeat of the Eomans by the Goths, or of the French by the Germans. As Solon said, when Croesus showed him his treasures, " See, if any other come that hath better iron, he will be master of all this gold." So there is a " better iron," to which Kingship belongs, and this is not to be found either in numbers or riches. Even if riches be the sinews of war, they are not the blood without which sinews are useless, and which can always make sinews for itself. This is to be found not so much in physical as in mental and moral qualities. Success in war depends chiefly upon the head and the heart ; upon judgment and quickness and adaptability and care ; upon courage and enthusiasm and self-sacri- The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 29 fice and self-command. It is said that modern arms, with their greater accuracy and longer range, are equalising soldiers. But it seems that, on the contrary, they are making the differences between them more pro- nounced : for as a gun carries farther it requires more skill, and as it fires faster it requires more coolness ; so that the improvement of a weapon causes more to depend upon the character of the man who handles it. Ex- perience contradicts Dr. Johnson's well-known saying ; for if there is a fool at one end of a fishing-rod there is not likely to be a fish at the other : so if there is a stupid or timid soldier at one end of a gun, there is not likely to be a victim at the other. It was said in old times that every man hit cost his weight in lead ; and now the expenditure is much greater, for we observe the striking phenomenon, that as arms have been im- proved, slaughter has been diminished. In the Franco- German war a smaller percentage of men fell than in any previous battles ; which is probably due to the fact that the arms were too much for the soldiers, especially on the French side. One bullet that hits is worth more than ten thousand which miss, and to make bullets hit requires those who fire them to be more capable and more self-possessed than formerly. So no change of arms ever has altered, or ever can alter, the fact that war is a test of many of the highest qualities of humanity. We note a recognition, striking though unconscious, of this truth, in the general associa- tion of pride with descent from Norman blood. These Normans were little more than cosmopolitan brigands ; indeed, they were nothing more than that, so far as their first connection with our own country was concerned : The Coming Democracy. but taking the best view of them, as a body of European police who drilled the Teutons into order, the only- ground for pride in connection with them is that they were successful in war, and by that means suggested the pos- session of qualities which they afterwards displayed. Of course it cannot be denied that war brings out also many of our lowest qualities, as selfishness, brutality, and reckless- ness ; but we must not let our recognition of the one fact bhnd us to the other. We know, also, the sad evils which follow in the train of war ; pain and death and sorrow, de- struction and oppression and poverty. But, nevertheless, the Coming Democracy is likely to believe that there may be times in which war, even aggressive war, is good for a nation, and circumstances under which it is justifiable. Bacon says that " no body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural body nor politic; and, cer- tainly, to a kingdom or estate, a just and honour- able war is the real exercise. A civil war, indeed, is like the heat of a fire, but a foreign war is like the heat of exercise, and serveth to keep the body in health ; for a slothful peace will both courage effeminate, and manners corrupt." It is said that it is miserable to have few things to desire and many to fear, as in Empire ; but there is at least one thing more to be dreaded than the responsibility of authority, and that is the corruption of prosperity. As riches increase and men set their hearts upon them, the military spirit may decline ; but this has always been a sign of decay, and a foreshadowing of a destruction in which riches also have been included. The pre-eminence of the towns had much to do with the decline of the Italian States. A manufacturing popu- lation may be less warlike than one of liunters or shep- The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 31 herds, but this is not so much because it is less brave as because it can be less spared, and is less able to bear hardships, l^o man, and no nation, can be brave which makes too much of physical comfort; and without bravery, even the means of physical comfort will soon dis- appear. For we are told that " life is a battle and a march ;" so that success in it, of any good sort, needs com- bativeness. It may be true that " Peace hath her victories no less than War," but these victories have to be won in both cases by pretty much the same qualities. As wealth and luxury increased, the Athenians became less willing to fight themselves, and more eager to throw this task upon foreign mercenaries ; so that De- mosthenes in vain tried to rouse in them that spirit which might have kept back Philip, and preserved their own independence and welfare. Solomon's riches did not improve the national character of the Jews : and in France the prosperity of the Second Empire was pro- bably the cliief cause of the disasters which brought it to an end ; indeed, much more of such an Empire might have made an end of French History. A rich nation may have to go to war to save itself, as Polycrates threw his ring into the sea ; and though it may be difficult to combine in the same individual the blessings of Judah and Issachar, yet if a nation has not the spirit of the lion's whelp, it will soon not have the burdens of the ass to carry. The luxury of wealth will not make or keep a people great : Themistocles could not fiddle, though he could make a small town into a great city ; but Nero could fiddle whilst Eome was burning. Tlifi instinct of humanity confirms the teachings of history : for though we may all most desire the pleasures 32 The Coming Democracy. of prosperity, we certainly all most admire those " uses of adversity" which we find to be, after all, so " sweet." Happiness may be " our being's end and aim;" but we find that happiness rather in struggle than in enjoyment ; rather in pursuing the golden apple than in grasping it, when it turns to dust. Sweet songs were not sung on the hills of Jerusalem alone, but also by the waters of Babylon, and Eome was never so great as after the reverse of Cannse. So a nation does not promote even its own welfare by merely attending to what seem its own interests ; and still more will the welfare of the world not be advanced, if the best nations refuse to make efforts and sacrifices, contenting themselves with increasing their own riches and comforts. As the bard of " Sir Industry " sings in ' The Castle of Indolence ' — and the same will apply to nations — " Had unambitious mortals minded nought, But in loose joy their time to wear away ; Had they alone the lap of Dalliance sought, Pleased on her pillow their dull heads to lay, Eude nature's state had been our state to-day ; No cities e'er their towery fronts had raised, No arts had made us opulent and gay ; With brother brutes the human race had grazed ; None e'er had soared to fame, none honoured been, none praised." As we do not most admire individuals who merely attend to their own affairs, but reserve our highest praises for those who sacrifice themselves for the good of their country ; so the best ideal for a nation is that which encourages it to strive to make its own blessings general, and so to help to bring the rest of the world nearer to it5 own level. Such a striving may call for the sacrifice of The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 33 much that human nature values ; but in politics, as in religion, it holds true that unless a grain of wheat fall into the srround, it will not bring forth fruit. This striving, too, may involve war ; for war of some sort is a necessary process in all education. Life is for all of us a battle and a march ; and we cannot hold our places in it, except in obedience to Nature's law of the supre- macy, and consequent survival, of the fittest. To teach ourselves, we have to fight against the baser qualities of our nature, as cowardice, indolence, and non-aspiration ; and to teach others, we may have to fight against physical forces, in order to win the means for exercising mental influences. War seems, indeed, to have been, with all its drawbacks, one of the best harbingers of truth, as is expressed in the famous motto engraved on the Hungarian sword — "He that thinks not as I do, thinks falsely." In spite of the doubts of Hosea Biglow, it has again and again been proved " That civilyzation doos git forrid Sometimes upon a powder-cart." Even if we shrink from this thought, and fondly cling to the ideal of peace, we may comfort ourselves with the reflection that peace is not favoured by the greatest na- tions being too unwilling to fight ; for as the multitude of the wise is the welfare of a nation, so the courage of the capable is the safeguard of the world. In conclusion, there are two objections which should especially be noticed. One of these is that freedom is of the essence of the democratic, spirit, and that this requires the opinions of others to receive the same consideration as those of our D 34 The Coming Democracy. own nation. " Our civilisation may be best for us," we are told, "but we have no right to force it on others." This objection has its root in that modern spirit of scepticism which leads men to feel tliat one opinion is probably as true as another. But this spirit has not yet got hold of the Democracy, nor does it seem likely to do so. "We may of course err in estimating Civilisation, as Johnson thought that the inferiority of the French people was proved by their taking sugar with their fingers : but the masses of the people always think that what they have is the best ; at any rate they are cer- tain to believe that either it is not worth while to make sacrifices to secure their own civilisation, or else it is worth while to make efforts to spread it. And there is a radical difference between forcing a civilisation upon others, and obtaining for it free play in comparison with their own. The other objection is, that a feeling for the brother- hood of mankind is also of the essence of the democratic spirit, and that this would prevent men fighting witli each other. No doubt in the highest development it would have that effect, but the world has not reached such a stage yet. The sense of brotherhood does not best express itself in leaving a brother alone, but rather in trying to improve him, even though this may involve much that is unpleasant to begin with. The enthusiasm for humanity as it is, is no doubt a noble feeling, but that for humanity as it should be, is far nobler. Prometheus is still bound to the rock, and Hercules is just as much called upon to deliver him, though he himself may not be aware of, or may not care for, his chains. Those who think that the Coming Democracy will have no taste for such a task, little understand the char- The Democracy and Foreign Politics. 35 acter of the English people, or even the significance of movements, such as that of the Volunteers, which are going on under our own eyes. The same qualities which in one age find an industrial, will in another find an adventurous, outlet. Gain has not been the chief object to the English people, any more than was the mere wreath of parsley to the G-reeks. It is the combative disposition which has led to our conquests over matter, and this may at any time turn itself again to conquests over space. This disposition is a leading element of the English character; the atmosphere of battle, against some thing or other, is necessary to its existence. ISTo people seems able to devote itself so intensely to industrial pursuits, yet none is more deeply moved by the " Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war." The English nation is the most prosaic yet the most poetical, the most peaceful yet the most passionate ; and though ordinarily it may seem to care only for itself, it may at any time break out, in the spirit of the words — " Thus they answered — hoping, fearing, Some in faith, and doubting some, Till a trumpet-voice i^roclaiming Said, ' My people come ! ' Then the di'um Lo ! was dumb. For the great heart of the nation, throbbing, answered, ' Lord ! we come.' " So there are many things more unlikely than that, under the Coming Democracy, we may see, in this direction an enthusiasm and an enterprise which liave not been equalled since the days of Queen Elizabeth. D 2 36 The Coming Democracy. A people in such a mood need not be fond of meddling for the sake of meddling, but it will certainly take an interest in whatever seems likely to effect the object upon which it has set its heart. Hence an active foreign policy may in such circumstances be adopted, merely as a means to an end, and may be justified because that end is the promotion of the best welfare of humanity. In regard to the whole matter, it must be remembered that Empires, like Constitutions, are not made but grow. A race which is prolific and bold cannot help spreading itself, for mankind has been subject to this law at least since the days of Abraham. The question, therefore, is not whether new territories shall be acquired by the people individually, but whether these shall be collectively administered as an Empire. In considering this question, it must not be forgotten that power and responsibility, whilst they may encourage selfishness and hypocrisy, may also develop moral dignity and intellectual breadth. Democracies are prone to become too material and parochial; and the Coming Democracy in England may be disposed to believe, that one necessary safeguard of its own best welfare will have to be found in the discipline of governing a great and varied Empire. BOOK 11. THE DEMOCRACY MD HOME POLITICS. 381>S4;^ 38 The Coming Democracy. INTRODUCTION. It must always be borne in mind that in politics we are dealing with matters so complex and change- able that we cannot pretend to much certainty; we cannot cast the horoscope so surely as to set our future by it. Not that there may not be a science of politics, and an exact one too ; for in this, as in every- thing, theory and practice must correspond, if we only understand both properly. It is with theory and practice as with the feelings and their expressions. If we were able to watch both heart and face, but with anything less than divine completeness, we should see many a look for which we knew no cause, and many a feeling of which we could trace no expression. But none the less would it be true, that feeling and expression must coincide ; it would only follow that we had made an amission in observing, or a mistake in reckoning. So practice must follow theory ; but the voice of theory, like a choral utterance, is often a combination of many voices, some of which we generally miss hearing. In politics especially, the theories are so numerous and varying, that in calculating for the future, we can at the best only hope to indicate some probable general tend- encies : and this limitation holds more strictly in social than in imperial politics, because, whilst in its conduct The Democracy and Home Politics. 39 towards others, a nation is likely to be guided by one or two leading ideals, in its conduct towards itself it is certain to be much more influenced by changing circum- stances. Besides, towards others a nation is more or less a unity, whilst towards itself it is a multitude. But in spite of these drawbacks, we must not give up political prophecy as hopeless, at any rate so far as general tendencies are concerned ; for we have good reason to believe that even in social politics we can form some probable ideas of what the Democracy will do when it comes into power. But in forming such forecasts we must beware of several temptations to error; amongst which should chiefly be mentioned, as especially dangerous in our days, the tendency to be influenced too much by the accounts of the past, and by the appearances of the present. For the possibility of writing true History has never yet been proved : so that perhaps it would be safer to frankly acknowledge this, and class all writings of the sort as either Chronicles or Komances ; with a partiality to the latter for producing true historical impressions, as Shakspeare is the best History for an English boy. But whether or not it may ever be possible to write History, it certainly is not safe to rely very much for arguments upon such Histories as have been written so far; for History, like dress, if it half reveals, also half conceals, the form of Truth, though it must be confessed that in these days both are rapidly concealing less. Therefore historical analogies cannot be too strictly scrutinised, and perhaps nowhere should we be so sus- picious of them as in arguments about Democracy : for its friends have rarely the literary gift, so that its enemies 40 The Coming Democracy. liave been left to catch the ear of posterity. Wlien any great crime has been committed, History, like the Police, must always find someone guilty, and both most readily lay their hands on those who can least defend them- selves. Democracy has always been the naughty boy in the School of the Ages, so he has had to bear the blame of anything done wrong, as a king beheaded or a city burnt ; but he is getting old enough to defend himself, and will probably give us some new versions. He will warn us that coincidence does not mean causation ; so that when crime and a Democratic Constitution have come together, the crime may have been a result of previous oppression, and the Constitution a symptom of reviving freedom. As the key of History cannot unlock the doors of the past, much less can it those of the future ; for peoples differ from each other, and the same people keeps chang- ing in itself. Because Turks or Eomans or Frenchmen or Italians have conducted themselves in a certain way, it does not follow that Englishmen would have done the same things under the same circumstances. Peoples differ as much as, indeed probably more than, individuals of the same people; and to know how a man is likely to behave under certain circumstances, it is not enough to ask how other, and characteristically different, men have behaved, but we must also see how he has himself behaved under similar circumstances. Tried in this way, the English nation has never, throughout its history, given any reason to suppose that it will ever, under any system of government, behave recklessly or ruthlessly. In the great struggles by which our liberty has been developed, the nation has never lost its head : The Democracy and Home Politics. 41 for even the Puritan times, so trying and in many ways so extreme, were marked by a sober resolution quite alien to revolutionary frenzy; so that the fancy has no warrant which paints our own nation as ever likely to— " Greet her with applausive breath ; Freedom, gaily doth she tread, In her right a civic wreath, In her left a human head." We may — " Think we know the hue Of that cap upon her brow," but we shall find that this will be different in the light of another climate. But even if we allow that the English people would have acted in the past as others did, it does not follow that they are likely to act so in the future. For unless our efforts after progress are sadly misdirected, and our boastings about it sadly exaggerated, all this improved civilisation of which we hear and see so much, must tell upon the character of the people. We are never tired of saying how we have gone ahead of our fathers : but if this only means that we can travel more easily, and get messages more rapidly, and newspapers more cheaply ; if progress only implies the ability to make more cloth and iron, and so to have more money to spend upon ourselves ; then we must set our paeans to a lower key, and may even doubt whether the game has been worth the candle ; whether in parting with the quiet simpli- city of our fathers, we have not paid too dearly for our whistle. But we praise and cultivate these outward changes of condition because we believe that they must 42 The Coming Democracy. produce corresponding inward changes of character. Thus improved education, not merely at school but in the world, should raise the poorer classes to the level formerly occupied by those above them ; so that to lower the social tests for participation in government, should not necessarily mean to lower the government, itself, but only to admit those who have risen. Thus Demo- cracy may rather mean lateral than downward exten- sion, and may come not so much from lowering the qualification of citizenship as from raising the quality of the citizens. At any rate, what has been the conduct of a people in one state of ci\Tlisation, is not a sure criterion of what it will be in another, for boyhood does not exactly foreshadow manhood. It may be true of individuals that " the boy is the father of the man," but with nations there must be an improvement from genera- tion to generation, unless life has been a failure. As to the second caution, about not being too much influenced by the appearances of the present, it is enough to say that we must not believe what is said of Democracies by those who now pretend to speak in their name. Those who suppose that the British work- man is in reality the sort of man they would fancy from what they hear of him, will find themselves as much mistaken as would any Frenchman who looked in England for Punch's " John Bull." And the caution is not needed so much against enemies, who are ex- pected to caricature, but the Democracy may with most fervour join in the prayer to be saved from friends. Most of us are acquainted with some people, generally well-disposed and often even affectionate, who in their impulsiveness and intolerance of delay, always The Democracy and Home Politics. 43 know what we are going to do better than we know it ourselves, and often before we have come to any decision. And the less we say for ourselves, the more they say for us. So that we get credited with com- plete sets of opinions and feelings, on matters about which we have neither the intelligence to form any opinion nor the interest to arouse any feelings. And the world abets this operation ; for, as it cannot under- stand suspension of judgment but requires everybody to have, or profess to have, a decided opinion about everything in which it is itself interested, so it refuses to put up with the unknown when it is eager for the known. Thus it has happened to that Democracy wliich the world has felt for some time past was coming on in England. We all are curious to know about a new guest; and this curiosity is justified when this guest, like the returned Ulysses, will turn out to be our master. We expect liim to tell us about himself, but this the Democracy has not been able to do, nor has it cared to do. For it has not yet learned to take any continuous interest in politics ; and probably, if the truth was told, more papers are bought, in ordinary times, for the sporting than for the political news. But even when the Democracy has thought, it cannot always speak: for most Englishmen, of the sort who chiefly make up the Democracy, are remarkably inarticulate ; and also, like strong but rather stupid people generally, will allow a great deal of nonsense to be talked in their name before they speak out for them- selves. And, as there is always plenty said for others who will not say anything for themselves, the world has 44 The Coming Democracy. listened to this because it was bent on having a definite idea of some sort or otlier, and in so listening has to a great extent deceived itself. For this Democracy, when it comes all together, will neither be nor do as we should fancy from the language of those who now come forward to speak in its name. These are but the eager and excitable ones who have run on in front, and the action of the main body will not depend upon them. For of the working classes, especially, it is true that there is somebody wiser, or unwiser, than anybody, and that is everybody : and it is with this everybody that we must reckon in future ; for Democracy will mean, not as generally elsewhere in the past, a majority following a minority of itself, but a majority taking its own way. As elections are not really decided by the passionate parti- sans of either side, who make up their minds and then, if ever, hear reasons, and who, whatever happens, may be written off agamst each other; but by those despised weak ones who neither care for talking nor meeting, but who quietly please themselves ; so the ultimate conduct of the masses will not be determined by the few who now speak, but by the many who yet have said nothing. But Democracies always produce demagogues, we may be told, and with truth. Demagogues, however, are of two kinds, those who lead and those who follow ; and only the last, who can never be dangerous, will have any chance in England, for the soil, as we see from Wat Tyler and Wilkes on to our own time, has never been favourable to the other kind. It is the nature of the English people to think and act for them- selves in matters about which they are informed and The Democracy and Home Politics. 45 interested ; and we may expect self-reliance to increase, as education developes their knowledge, and responsi- bility increases their attention. So we must form our own opinion of what the Demo- cracy will do by finding out what it is, and must not believe what we are told either by those who hope or those who fear. Working-men Eepresentatives, so- called, and enthusiastic philosophers, so-called, will lead us as far wrong in one direction, as pessimist pro- pertyists and fastidious sestheticists will lead us wrong in the other. As to these last, we must remember that the life of a working man is not by any means what it appears to those who are unaccustomed to it. No doubt a northern manufacturing town looks ugly and depressing enough to make us believe that those who live in it may have any amount of coarseness and stupidity ; and probably finely-bred new-comers would actually be affected as they suppose others are. But only for a time, for Nature does not readdy surrender her leading characteristics to any change of outward circumstances. We are inclined in these days to attach too much importance to surroundings. We wonder at the bar- barism of our forefathers, who for countless generations do not seem ever to have been aware that there was such a thing as beauty in nature ; and we smile over the progress we have made, since even Charles Lamb was glad to leave the liills of Westmoreland for the streets of London, and since Johnson did not think a Scotch valley equal to Cheapside. But we may carry this belief in outward beauty too far, until it becomes mawkish and weakening. It may have been true 46 The Coming Democracy. to the Greeks that "beauty is truth, truth beauty," but such a faith could be only false and mischievous to us; better the uncouthest Philistinism than such Hellenism. We are carried to the fullest expressions of a faith, for Beauty is made an altar before which we are asked to prostrate ourselves : we are told that unless our surroundings are lovely, we cannot be ourselves lovable; and unless they are dignified, we must be degraded. Against all this, and all the assumptions coming from it, we must emphatically protest. Buckle has unintentionally reduced such fancies to absurdities ; and we all of us in our sober senses, know that, however character may have been originally formed, it is influenced very little by outward surroundings. Besides, Nature is gloriously democratic, and gives all her highest pleasures freely for nothing. Art is all very well in its place, but the man has not yet been born who could paint a stone or a flower ; and the most priceless canvas is not to be com- pared with the picture of a bit of cloud flying across the blue sky, which can so often be seen out of any garret window. So when we come to be acquainted with manufactur- ing towns, we find that the men there are very much like the men everywhere else. The streets as we ride over them in the train do certainly look uninviting, but the appearance alters even as soon as we get on the pavement ; and much more so when we come to know the people in the houses, for we find that their lives are not by any means as dull as we expected. Every family has its varied interest; one person is fond of music, another of sport, another of politics, another of The Democracy and Home Politics. 47 study, so that nearly all have at least one hobby horse iu the stable, and some families have amongst them a whole stud. Nothing like justice is done to the varied faculties and interests of the working classes ; and it only needs a little personal knowledge of even the ugliest town to convmce us that human nature is, in those parts of it which are of much consequence, very little affected by any outward circumstances, but is like a jewel independent of its setting. As physically men are much alike without clothes, so intellectually and morally they are found to differ very little when we lose sight of those superficial appearances wliich so generally deceive us. It is one of the signs of a strong race, as of a strong man, to be superior to those circimistances which master only weak natures ; and if the civilised character of England is to depend upon smokeless air, and pretty gardens, and artistic houses, and such things, then we may look for the quick decline of our national prowess. Not that beauty of every sort is not good, and very good indeed, but it must not be used as a test of character. So we have to be on our guard against all who judge too much by themselves, whether they be cultured outsiders who tell us what the Democracy must be from the conditions under which it lives, or working-men agitators who take it for granted that their fellows must eventually desire whatever they themselves are now eager for. The one would make us believe that the British workman is a barbarian, the other that he is a revolutionist ; whereas he is m reality neither the one nor the other, nor anythmg resembling either. 48 The Coming Democracy. To get at what he is, we must try to rid ourselves of these class prejudices wliich have taken such a deep root in England, and the lessening of which will be one of the happy results of the Coming Democracy. At present we find it difficult to avoid assuming that a lord must be generically distinguished from a labourer, and so we talk of the various classes as if each consisted of quite a different sort of people. But the varieties of condition which constitute these classes exercise a com- paratively small influence upon character, so that land- lords and labourers, parsons and workmen, differ much less amongst themselves than they all resemble each other as men and as Englishmen. And as with their class differences, so with their class interests; these must sometimes pull in different directions, but they must much more frequently, and with much more strength, pull together, as affecting the welfare of the whole nation. So the British workman, the man who will have the leading influence in the Coming Democracy, is an Englishman first and a workman afterwards. Just as the absurd ideas which the French and English so long entertained of each other vanished with intercourse ; so when he comes to mix more in the body politic, it will be found that the British workman is not at all the terrible fellow he has been so often described, but only an ordinary Englishman, of narrow education and laborious life, with strong, though slow, feelings, and much stupidity, mingled with much acuteness. Yet it is often assumed that this man, this Boeotian of Europe, because he happens to be also a workman, will turn out a revolutionist. No doubt the belief is The Democracy and Home Politics. 49 general, but it need not therefore be true, that such a social condition must cause men to wish for changes, and to resolve to carry them out when they get the chance. This belief, so widespread in the other classes, bears witness at any rate to their consciousness that, after all, things are not distributed as they should be, and that there is reason for discontent. But it does not follow that such discontent actually exists ; or that, if it did, it would take an active form. A man need be something of a philosopher to trouble himself about how things ought to be ; and those who must work for their daily bread, seldom have leisure enough to build up argu- ments about the summum honum, or fancy enough to paint visions of Arcadia. Abstract rights never had much charm for the English mind, which is pre- eminently, and sometimes provokingly, practical. Least of all are the working classes given to philosophy, and they are just as little given to a love of change. For we may doubt whether the Lancashire adage that " Eadicalism and Clogs go together," is true of more than a particular epoch. Wliere there is a special stress, tlien those upon whom it most presses must do something, even though they may be the people who ordinarily are least disposed to move. But when this stress is over, they relapse into their natural condition. For we must beware of being misled by the conservatism of Eadicalism; since there may be conservatism of that, as of anything else : as when those who have seen certain changes beneficial, persist in believing that similar changes must continue to be made. For we may get wrong not only by refusing to take the right road, but also by keeping in it beyond the proper turn. E 50 The Coming Democracy. Hence because certain changes became popular, it does not follow that change generally will be so. On the contrary, it seems that the less educated people are, the more fear they have of change. We all shrink from the unknown, and, like Claudio, would rather stay where we are than " go we know not where ;" hut especially is this true of those whose knowledge and experience are limited, just as the untravelled man is the most loth to leave home. Any one who has had much to do with the working classes, knows how strong is this conservative tendency in their daily lives ; they like to go on living where and as they have always done, and are very unwilling to depart from the tracks of their fathers. This is true, though perhaj)S in a less degree, not only of the country people but also of the operatives in towns, who preserve great steadiness of habit under very variable outward conditions. Of course with this tendency are mingled other and very different ones, as the love of adventure, but to the majority of Englishmen change for the sake of change is distasteful. They will make it if they are convinced that it is really desirable, but only in that case, and then with an effort. Those who doubt the truth of this picture of the average British working man, may look back over history, and they will find that, except under some transient stress, the masses of the people have never been in favour of changes, either in politics, or manu- factures, or social life. And in the future they are much more likely to oppose wise reforms than to support rash revolutions ; for with Englishmen, at any rate, ignorance mostly takes the form of lethargy. There is no doubt a The Democracy and Home Politics. 51 good deal of foolish talking, by both parties, about the Conservative Working Man ; but yet underneath all this there remains the clear fact, that the reduction of the franchise revealed an amount of conservative feeling amongst the lower classes such as none but a few re- flecting observers had ever suspected. This suggests national traits which must not be overlooked. The conduct of a man, however, does not depend solely upon his character, but is much influenced by his mind at the time, as the action of a giant by the temper in which he wakens. And what is the mind of the masses of the people now that they are coming into full power ? Is it that of men feeling that they have long been kept down and wronged, and who therefore are naturally bent on revenge when their turn comes ? If this were so, then we might expect any quantity of disturbance : but there is every reason to believe that the mood is very different, and that the majority of the people look on the Government, not as something set over them, like an Egyptian task-master, but rather as something acting for them. " Irreconcileability," so common abroad, has never taken root in England, for no one here wishes to make a clean sweep, and start every- thing afresh. Institutions, like trees, may be either pulled up by the roots, or trimmed and nurtured, or left alone ; and these methods indicate pretty correctly the differ- ences of political parties all the world over. The second method is that which will commend itself to the masses of the English people in dealing with their Constitution ; for they believe that the tree is of as good a sort as they could get, and is fairly grown. There is in the heart of the nation no feeling of resentment against injustice, no E 2 52 The Coming Democracy, burning sense of wrong, bnt most people believe that the government has on the whole been fairly administered, and with the object of promoting the general welfare. Mistakes enough have been made, and plenty of in- consistencies and inequalities remain ; corruptions and class legislations have been only too abundant, and high- minded and honest politicians, neither selfish nor stupid, are confessedly not too numerous ; but in spite of all this, and of much more of the same sort, the feeling is general that, on the whole, our rulers of either party desire to do what is right, and that our system is one which, probably more than any other, allows this to be done. So government is not looked at by our people as a Bastille into which entry is to be forced that it may be destroyed, but as a palace into which admittance is to be gained that it may be improved and enlarged. With such a character, then, in such a mood, how may we expect the Democracy to treat the political inheritance which will come into its hands ? It may be well to consider its probaljle action as affecting, firstly, the chief elements of the Constitution, and, secondly, the chief classes of the community ; thus dividing the subject into the two parts of Constitutional and Social Politics. ( 53 ) \ PART I. CONSTITUTIONAL POLITICS. CHAPTEE I. THE CROWN. The chief elements of the Constitution are understood to be King, Lords and Commons. As to the first of these a caution is needful, for the word Democracy is very generally supposed to call up associations whicli are inconsistent with the preservation of royalty. But Democracy has not necessarily anything to do either with the presence or absence of royalty ; for it means only a government administered for the benefit of the ruled, as compared with a government administered for the benefit of the ruler. Democracy therefore is not opposed to royalty, but to tyranny. But it may be said that Democracy means not only a government for the people, but also by them ; for a despot may have for the sole object of his rule, the good of his subjects. Let this be allowed, and then the issue becomes simplified. Of course the people must have some sys- tem by means of which they rule, for every government 54 The Coming Democracy. requires its machinery. What we have to bear in mind is that the character of a government does not _depend upon the character of its machinery, but upon the character of its motive force. In the same way, two engines may mechanically be almost identical, yet one is called a steam-engine because it is moved by steam, and another an air-engine because it is moved l)y air. So Democracy means a government whose machinery is moved by the will of the people. Thus the same machinery may give a democratic, or an oligarchic, or a despotic government, accordingly as it is under the control of the many, or of a few, or of one. The reason why the idea of Democracy is usually associated with certain constructions of machinery only, is that most men always give more attention to forms and names than to forces and realities. So when the people have risen for freedom, they have generally thought more of getting rid of the despot than of the despotism, whereas their real object would often have best been effected by leaving the despot himself alone. The Philistines had no need to kill Samson, for when shorn of his locks, they could make him useful to themselves. The dragon of despotism is not slain by decapitation ; for when one head, called by the name of a king, has been cut off, another, in the form of a President or First Consul, has often grown out in its place. Not only " a rose by any other name will smell as sweet," but also an onion will smell as strong. Robespierre may have been as great a tyrant as Louis the Sixteenth, and Oliver Cromwell as Charles the First. Assuming, then, that the government is to be demo- cratic in the real, and not in some nominal, sense of the The Crown. 55 term-; tl^ question to be considered is wlietliexroj:altj_is, or is not, an advisable constituent of the machinery rg£iinred_for such a government. To judge of this, we niust apply the tests both of experience and theory. Of these tests, the first is of course the most reliable ; for experience is only theory proved by practice, whereas theory not so proved can be little more than fancy. And this leads us to remark on one of the most peculiar phenomena of our times, which is the frequent concur- rence of a profession of utilitarianism, and a practice directly contrary to its fundamental principles. It seems quite the fashion for those considering themselves the most advanced thinkers ; who glory in rejecting all innate ideas, and who will hear of nothing but what they think experience has proved useful ; to be always ready to talk of hypotheses as if they were laws, and to promulgate beliefs, without hesitation, which are directly opposed to all the experience of mankind. If experi- mental philosophy is good for anything, surely the first inference from it must be that beliefs are likely to be true, and practices are likely to be good, in proportion as they are old, and have therefore so far stood the experimental test. Of course age does not in itself afford sufficient proof, for conditions alter, but at any rate it should be taken as strong presumptive evidence : and certainly it seems inconsistent that those who profess the greatest admiration for the purely experi- mental system of philosophy, should be so ready to throw over anything old just because it is old, and to take up anything new just because it is new. In politics this tendency shows itself in the fact, that many of those most enamoured of utilitarian tests for 56 The Coming Democracy. truth, are just those most disposed to talk disparagingly of our present Constitution as " old-fashioned," and to assume that we should do much better to frame it according to their newer theories. But the English Democracy is less likely than any in the world, past or jn-esent, to follow mere theory ; for, to one of its prac- tical temperament, a grain of practice counts for more than a bushel of talk. It will therefore be led rather by what has happened, and is happening, than by what it is told will happen, or should happen. And so it will apply the test of experience to royalty ; but not, be it remembered, so much to see whether it has done good service in the past, in ruling the nation, but whether this service has been such as to make it likely that it will be useful in the future, as an instrument of Democracy. For royalty cannot endure, and it would not be good for any one that it should, merely on account of its past services, like an old servant kept on and humoured when unfit for work. Gratitude is so rare a quality in individuals that we have no right to look for it in masses, and certainly any we shall find in Democracies will be of the sort which looks rather to the future than to the past. And the first, and indeed the only, fact necessary to mention in connection with experience, is that royalty has with us actually proved itself to be thoroughly con- sistent with Democracy. For it may fairly be objected to the title, " The Coming Democracy," that the Demo- cracy has actually come, and that we are now living under it. This is true : and the title is used here, not as referring to the acquisition of power, but to the exer- cise of it ; for the acknowledgment of a position is one The Crown. 57 thing, and the use made of it is another. The Demo- cracy is here ; of that there can be no doubt : and so we have only to ask ourselves whether an institution which, like royalty, has found itself able to exist, even to be useful, during the establishment of Democracy, should not also remain during its continuance. The burden of proof lies on those who have to show, that necessities must arise which will render that inconsistent with the operations of Democracy, which has proved itself quite consistent with its free growth and active working so far. And when it comes to mere reasons, there are many which make us doubt the soundness of those theories of which we hear so much. It is common for men to say that, of course, if we had to start afresh, and were all properly educated, the republican government would be the best, for we should choose our own rulers. Such a government might be the best, but it would not necessarily be the most democratic ; for Democracy means, not choosing our own rulers, but ruling ourselves. And in forming political theories, we must not only consider our own fancies but also the facts of human nature, or the battle will be as unreal as those of Uncle Toby and Corporal Trim. One of the facts to be taken into account is, that any government must have a head; and another is, that election does not seem to be the best way of getting at this head. That some head is necessary, is plain to every one who reflects that every government must have at least two functions — the legislative and the executive. Now, the progress of Democracy may take away much of the legislative function from what is called the Government, and transfer it to the people generally ; but such a 58 The Coming Democracy. change makes it all the more necessary that the execu- tive function shall be performed with effectiveness and stability ; for there is no use in passing laws which are not enforced, and decrees which are not obeyed. Hence tliis function cannot be left to the people generally, but must be entrusted to some organisation, which in this re- spect must be supreme. So in an elective republic this organisation must be under the control of tlie elected head of the government, for otherwise it would be absurd to profess to elect a head at all. One of the requisites of every executive, however, is a certain amount of stability, and this it can only derive from its head. Therefore, when this head is elected, we are obliged to ensure a period of tenure during which it cannot be removed. This duration must then hold for the legislative function as well ; so that if, durmg this tenure, the will of the people is opposed to that of its head, if this head so chooses, the will of the people must wait for the expiration of this tenure. But such a frus- tration is opposed to the spirit of Democracy, of which the first requisite is that the properly expressed will of the people shall act without delay through an efficient executive. This requisite seems to be best met by a form of government like our own ; in which royalty ensures such an executive, while the representative system allows the will of the people so to operate. We need not wait three or four years to get rid of a Prime Minister or to alter , a policy, for we can do either in a day. " Celerity with Stability " is the motto of a Constitutional Monarchy. It is with our Government, as with a steamboat, for if we wish to go in an opposite direction, we need not take out the engines, but have only to reverse the controlling rods. The Crown. 59 Every republican form of government that has yet been devised, has had to choose between the Scylla of an impeded legislation and the Charybdis of an unstable executive; between Joeing Jtoo, weak for authority, or too strong for liberty. But even if it was considered desirable to change sometimes the head of the executive, it would not follow that popular election would be the best means of doing that. It seems, indeed that the old method of casting lots would often be better ; for though it sounds plausible to talk of choosing the best men, this generally resolves itself into finding, not the wisest and fittest, but those who have offended least, and who most conform to party exigencies. The masses who have to elect, cannot pos- siljly select properly ; and so must put themselves in the hands of managers and wire-pullers. The hereditary principle, even if it finds us sometimes a knave and sometimes a fool, will on the whole give better results than such a system. And even in the matter of expense, which is sure to be looked at more closely, the Democracy will proljably find that royalty is the cheapest, as well as the best. For though the sums voted to keep it up may seem large, at any rate they are properly known, and this will be found to be one of those cases to wdiich the homely adage applies, that the first expense is the least : for it is cheaper to keep a few in any degree of splendour, than that the many should be tempted to help themselves ; as it is better to bleed at one vein than at every pore. Clerks who do not mind about salary if they may keep the petty cash, are not generally found economical ; and even if there should be no suspicion of corruption, it is 6o The Coming Democracy. clear that, when the head of the exec^^tive is uncertain of his position, all the members, down to the least, must share in the same feeling, and, therefore, must require more pay to make up for this drawback ; besides being turned into political agitators, to retain those in power to whom they owe their position. The permanent welfare of the State, also, is much more likely to be attended to by those who expect their children to succeed them, than by those whose responsi- bility will end with their term of office, and who, like farmers with short leases, may raise large present crops at the expense of future fertility. For these, and many other reasons, the experience of twenty-seven centuries, in every country and stage of civilisation, has only confirmed the wisdom of Lycurgus in making the Spartan rulers hereditary kings ; and though it is dangerous to speculate on " might-have- beens," it seems as if it would have been better for Eome, had personal resentment against Tarquin not driven royalty away to return ultimately as tyranny. It may be said, however, that we have progressed since then ; and even since the days of our own forefathers, two centuries ago, who, when they wanted to get rid of a king again, did not try the experiment which they had witnessed after the death of his father, but at once chose another king in his place. But as to the effect of time, it is not enough to talk loosely about our progress in so many directions ; it must also be shown that this progress has introduced new conditions which invalidate the principles established by previous experi- ence. And, indeed, our frequent boastings in this respect seem probably unjustified, as they are certainly The Crown. 6i unseemly ; for it is doubtful if we have made such great advances, say, m poetry since Homer, or in philosophy since Socrates, or in art since Phidias, or in luxury since Nero ; to say nothing of politics since Athens, or gardening since Babylon, or mechanism since Egypt, or law since Eome. At any rate, it has yet to be shown that this progress has altered the fundamental elements and necessities of human nature, or even has had much more effect upon them than an improved system of farming upon the law of gravitation. But not by such considerations alone will the Demo- cracy judge of royalty, for sentiment also will exercise great influence. Such a feeling is supposed to be out of place in political arguments, and that is why their con- clusions come so generally wide of the mark ; for he who overlooks sentiment in his calculations of human action, omits what is generally the largest factor in the sum. Individual men are much more ruled by feeling than by reason, and generally only use reason to find argu- ments for actions which feeling has dictated. This is true in a greater degree of masses of men, and in a far greater degree still when these masses consist chiefly of the least cultivated and most impulsive. A Democracy, therefore, is sure to be much guided by feeling ; and most of all in such a matter as royalty, which appeals most strongly to imagination and enthusiasm. Though the old notions of divine right have long been abandoned, there is still " a divinity that doth hedge a King," namely, that of national embodiment. The King is not only a part, and the highest part, of the State, but he is also the only part that continues ; party leaders succeed each other, heads of departments die away, ministries rise 62 The Coming Democracy. and fall, men of all sorts " may come and men may go," but the King, like the brook, "goes on for ever;" — "Le roi est mort, vive le roi." Besides being the only part of the State which is per- petual, the King is also the only part which is incarnated in the public mind. All other parts are ofl&ces, but the King is a person ; we think of statesmen as men, but not as inevitaljly connected with any offices they may hold ; but we do not think of the King as separate from royalty, or of royalty without the King. But the King is the incarnation of nationality as well as of royalty ; and in politics, as in religion, humanity seems to require the incarnation of its ideal. The heir of the house, however faulty, will arouse a family enthu- siasm c|uite beyond the reach of any body of trustees, however excellent. So in the monarch we see embodied ourselves ; not in our sordid individual pursuits, but in our highest collective aspirations. In him are gathered together the glories of the past, and the powers of the present, and the hopes of the future ; through him history becomes more than a dream, and country more than a name ; by him, and for us all, are borne the dignities, and received the honours, which belong to our national position. So, in obeying the old command, " Honour the King," we are honouring ourselves ; and if the philo- sopher would not hurt a dog lest it might contain the soul of a friend, much more should we pay respect to a King, because he certainly embodies the national spirit of us all. But the Eling is not only an embodiment ; he is also a symbol. After all, it is neither logic nor calculation that rules mankind, but imagination, and of this, symbolism The Crown. 63 is the expression. So customs are symbols : of a mil- lions of Hindoos who will die rather than swallow meat, not a hundred will resist political subjection ; and of millions of Mahommedans who will obey the dictation of a European, not one will eat with him. And almost worthless trifles are symbols, as the clouted shoe, and the wallet and staff, which have been the ensigns of bloody wars ; and our own country has lately rung with ap- plause for the spirit which faced death rather than the loss of the regimental flag, in itself a mere bit of rag. Forms, too, are symbols, as all heraldic devices, and the cross-shaped sword-hilt before which even Mephis- topheles had to fall back. So in a much more real sense, the Monarch is a symbol ; the living symbol of national unity and of national history. In him we typify one of the best parts of ourselves ; and in our axioms, that the king can do no wrong and that he never dies, we express our aspirations after per- fection and durability. Symbols, it is true, may lose their meaning : indeed, they must die with the death of that to which they owe their being ; and the battle-fields of theology, the realm igar excellence of symbols, are strewn with such carcases. But symbols also live as long as that which they symbolise, and some things thus sym- bolised seem touched with the gift of immortality. Th.e monarchic idea is one of these : for through all stages and ages of the world, from its simple beginnings in the dis- tant eastern lands, down to its most complex achieve- ments in our own, mankind has kept to this idea; as Teufelsdrockh says — "The only title wherein I, witli confidence, trace eternity, is that of King." The Coming Democracy is sure to be moved by these 64 The Coming Democracy. feelings ; for with democracies, patriotism is a passion, and a person a necessity. The masses must always have their hero, and are steadfast in their worship ; because they do not, like the other classes, who often play the lacquey, ever come too near him. Their loyalty may not be as decorative or effusive, but it is of a more reli- able sort than that which begins to give way if the Court is quiet, or shopkeeping dull. All this would tell, whatever was the character of the Monarch, but its influence will be greatly increased by the example which has been set before us and our fathers. This is not the place to speak of persons, for the subject is concerned only with principles ; but in con- sidering the feelings of the masses towards the principle of royalty, we cannot forget the lustre given to that principle by a Sovereign who, politically, has wedded Eoyalty to Democracy in happy union, and socially has borne "the white flower of a blameless life" for nearly a generation and a half, in " That fierce light which beats upon a throne And blackens every blot." We i;iay believe then, that the Coming Democracy will have no disposition to tamper with Eoyalty, or to break the thread which links us with the days of Egbert. If any strain should arise, it is much more likely that the Crown and the People will come together and crush the institutions now standing between them. But we must turn to these. ( 65 ) CHAPTER II. THE HOUSE OF LORDS. Next, as to the House of Lords, it must be confessed that this seems the institution least likely to take the fancy, or gain the judgment, of the Coming Democracy. For it does not represent, like the Crown, the unity and glory of the nation, nor like the House of Commons, the opinions and feelings of the people ; but it is exclusively composed of a small class, which has more than its share of good things, without being made, in addition, one of the three elements of the Constitution. If the object of a Democracy be to carry out the wishes of the people, what can be the sense of allowing these wishes to be thwarted by those who numerically form an infinitesimal part of the people, and whose interests often seem opposed to those of the people ? If freedom be the clearing of the channel down which the waters of public opinion flow to turn the mill-wheel of action, we must require that no fitful will shall be allowed to interpose a dam and stop the stream. If the. people have not made up their minds, they will not ask for a thing ; but if they have made up their minds, they ought to have their way : indeed, they will have it, so that it is futile as well as foolish to allow any organisa- tion to interfere. F 66 The Coming Democracy. This sounds well, and probably if tlie Democracy were to rise, like the goddess from the sea foam, a new being without an ancestry or a history, such an arrange- ment as that of our House of Lords would not be thought of; at least at first. Nor, perhaps, afterwards, if humanity worked with that perfection which poli- tical theorisers often assume, but which, if actually realised, would make all political contrivances, even Democracies, unnecessary. For we must bear in mind that political philosophy, like labour, is one of the penalties of sinfulness ; since if all men were as they should be, governments would be superfluous, each man, sitting under his own vine and fig tree, being a righteous law unto himself So that there is a radical absurdity in j)olitical ideals and arguments which assume such a perfection as would abolish politics altogether. On the contrary, we must only reckon upon men as they are, their best opinions but half truths, their best arrangements but half-blunders ; hence we must confess the need to adopt the spirit of practical compromise, and so to recognise as an essential member of the body politic, " That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity — Commodity, the bias of the world." For without commodity, which is the measurement — leading to compromise, which is the arrangement — of things with eacli other, we can never get any political mechanism to work properly. And it must be remembered that as the Democracy itself cannot be a new creature, but only a development from the old, so neither must the people comprising it The House of Lords. 67 be assumed to have the ignorance, if they liave not the innocence, of the primitive state. On the contrary, education is constantly increasing the power and ten- dency to learn and reason from the history of the past, and so to make use of its lessons in the future. The Democracy will be growingly disposed to do this. And one of these lessons is that every government worth considering has, for some reason or other, found it advisable to adopt a Second Chamber, of one sort or other. It is not necessary here to speculate on the probable causes for this. Most likely they chiefly lie in the fact, that no plan has ever yet been devised for properly showing what really is the public opinion of any community on any subject. We may think we get this by voting, but the state of mind into which people must be worked before they will take the trouble to vote, is never one in which they can long remain as indicating a settled public opinion : the pressure re- quired to lift the valve of an election, is always higher than that used to work the regular machinery of life. The pubHc, like patients in some forms of mental disturbance, sometimes wants saving from itself; for there is a duality of will in which the best comes last. So before we can have a real public opinion, we must go through the two processes, of the excitement of formation, and then the rebound of correction. We seem to confine our attention solely to measuring the first, but the other must also be noted, if we would get at a true indication. Here the arrangement of a Second Chamber comes in, which thus serves as a mouthpiece for those " second thoughts," proverbially said to be (so often) the best. F 2 68 The Coming Democracy. And not only must reaction be considered, but also non-expression, for by far the greatest part of public opinion is never uttered. The so-called " public opinion " of any town or country, is seldom much more than the expressed opinion of the few who talk, and it takes no account of those who say nothing. But these have also some opinion of their own, which must be considered, since they also help to form the public. Unless a tongue is found for this opinion, it must generally remain unexpressed, and a Second Chamber often serves as such a tongue. So it will often happen, that the opinion which is held by the minority of those wdio first speak, turns out to be also the opinion of the majority of those who then keep silence, and is thus really the public opinion of the community. But all our methods for getting at public opinion would have indicated the reverse, had we not made use of a Second Chamber ; which thus serves as a purifier to precipitate error and passion from the gas of public opinion, between the retort of popular decision and the flame of political action. Thus a Second Chamber will be seen to form a neces- sary part of the organisation of a proper Democracy : for it is one of the first requisites of such a Democracy to get at opinions and not impulses, and that these opinions shall be those of the people generally and not only of a demonstrative few ; otherwise we shall find that there may be oligarchies of demagogism as well as of birth or property. But this leaves open the method of choosing such a Chamber, as to which it may be said that the heredit- ary seems the least reasonable. For what can be more The House of Lords. 69 absurd than to make a man a legislator because he happens to have been born the eldest son of a lord ? To accept such a method is to surrender our free will as men, and to hand ourselves over to Nature, though we all know how freaky she is. An aristocracy in the true sense of the word, namely, as consisting of the best, may be acknowledged, yet we may refuse to take one merely of the first-born of the richest. That a man because he is a lord, may, if he chooses, be a legislator though he is undoubtedly a fool, certainly does seem an anomaly. This will be thought over by the Democracy, but it does not follow that, after all, the decision will be against it. For if it is advisable to have a Second Chamber, and that this should perform any real functions, it will be seen that it must possess the two qualifications of independence and stability. It must also have these qualifications in a very high degree : for unless it is to be merely a registering, and therefore practically a useless, body, it must be prepared to stand up sometimes against popular wishes and excitement ; like Horatius, it must keep the bridge of Eome until the crisis is past. But this requires such strength and courage as few of our politicians, even amongst the greatest, are found individually to possess, for the man who dares to stand across the path of the populace, is not easy to find. We cannot, therefore, expect a body, which may not share in the heroism that to an individual is often a sufficient recompense, to be equal to this task unless higldy endowed with the requisite qualifications. There are only two methods of getting a Second Chamber ; namely, election and birth. The first, how- 70 The Coming Democracy. ever guarded, seems incapable of securing sufficient independence. A public opinion which has to be de- pended upon, will be obeyed rather than resisted : and however long may be the periods of election, re-election must come at last, and will then certainly be much influenced by public opinion at the time. Besides, Democratic attention seems incapaljle of dividing itself fairly between two supreme elections for the same task ; so that if the election for the Upper Chamber was much considered, that for the Lower would be im- poverished in interest, and thus the operations of De- mocracy, which must always find their chief scene in the Lower Chamber, would be impeded. Also Demo- cracy would suffer by the constant tendency of an elective Upper Chamber to assume the functions of the Lower: for the best men will not be elected for nothing, but are certain to seek a power commensurate with the apparent importance of their position. But when the Upper House is hereditary, its members take their position as a matter of course, and are personally less eager at any time to make a figure in this position as they believe it will be always theirs. They have no motive to win a reputation for the sake of re-election, whilst they have every motive not to carry opposition so far as to imperil a power which they hope to hand down to their sons. Like the Sovereign, and like every- body else in fact, they are sure to be more careful of that which should always belong to them, than of that in which they have only a temporary interest. And though the hereditary method may have its alisurd side, it is in reality that by which nearly all property, and consequently nearly all power, is trans- The House of Lords. 71 mitted in every sphere of life. We are as far as ever from the Platonic method of making children common property, and choosing the ablest for the highest posts, for we all unhesitatingly recognise the fathers in the sons ; so that the most extreme politicians are just as ready as any one else, to give an influence to a man because he is the son of a duke, which they would refuse to one much abler, who happened to be the son of a farmer. The practice of choosing heirs, so common in the latter days of Eome, finds little favour now : so that men may not unreasonably leave it to Nature to send correctors of their laws, since they trust her to find masters of their property. And even looking at the matter practically, it seems that we shall be likely to get, on the average, as suitable legislators of this sort, by trusting to a class which has been trained to the work for generations, and the members of which mostly receive the best and fullest education, than by having recourse to the lottery of election. It is said that handicrafts stick to certain districts and families through inherited superiority of skill, and perhaps something of this sort may apply to the tact required for membership of the Upper House. At any rate, we shall be more ready to believe this when we have learned, as the Democracy will learn that, after all, making and altering laws may require as much skill as plaiting a basket or painting a pot. Whatever be the truth about this, it is certain that no method lias yet been found to vie with the hereditary for giving independence to an Upper House. And the same applies to stability, as is proved by the fact that no Upper House not founded on the hereditary principle, has ever been able to exist long. Tlie 72 The Coming Democracy. government of the United States is too recent to be taken into account, for the whole of it still lies in that zone between news and history from which so few of what are thought great things ever emerge. Compared with the English House of Lords, there is no Upper House, not hereditary, which is not as a creature of yesterday ; nor has there been any whose life has not turned out ephemeral. Probably associations of property may have had a good deal to do with this ; for after all, there is something in the vulgar prejudice which connects respectability with driving a gig. At any rate, most people seem to think so, since men are chosen for all offices, from those of Guardians of the Poor and Town Councillors up to the highest, much more frequently when they have property than when they are without it. Perhaps, looking at the present House of Commons, for example, it would need no great hardihood to say that men are often chosen simply because they have property ; but, not to go so far as that, it is clear that in politics the world mostly follows the principle of the Quaker's advice to the " Northern Farmer." " Doant thou marry for munny, but goa wlieer munny is." And if this policy will hold good at all, surely it must be in connection with an Upper House ; for the higher the position, the stronger the temptation, and therefore the greater the need to be above it. On the principle of the American company which would not engage a new manager unless he already possessed every luxury, because otherwise he would be sure to provide himself at their expense, so it is a great gain to have as legislators in the The House of Lords. 73 highest positions, men whose circumstances generally place them above pecuniary motives, and whose esprit de corps makes the consequences of corruption too serious to run any risk. There is more in this last consideration than is perhaps sometimes imagined, for a higher tone generally prevails in a connected body than in a mere collection of individuals. "Mrs. Grundy," though so much abused, probably deserves the credit of more of the good behaviour of the world than we should like to confess. And even if actually there is no danger of corruption, a Democracy will think much more of an Assembly in which there can be no suspicion of it. For the lower we go in the social scale, the more suspiciousness do we find, especially as regards money matters. Ignorant people are always dubious about everything they cannot see ; and it would be hard to make them believe that any body of men, not possessing money, could handle matters in which they might make it, and yet keep pure. To give them confidence, the most striking evidence is needed that the money is not wanted, and this is afforded by the general position of the English aristocracy. No one can tell how much political life in England is in- debted, for its comparative purity, to the fact that its leading positions have so largely been occupied by men who, in these respects, were faithful to Bayard's motto of being " Sans peur et sans rcproche." Bitter as political animosity often is with us, it never gets the length of suspecting that any of our leading statesmen have made politics minister to stock-jobbing, or have used their influence to get money for themselves. This is of course only as it should be, and especially with Democracies ; for, to rule the masses properly, statesmen must, like 74 The Coming Democracy. Caesar's wife, be not only above guilt, but also above suspicion. We may, however, without boasting say that such purity as prevails in England is rarely found else- where, and perhaps it would be more modest to ascribe this to something in our political Constitution than in our moral character. And that something can be nothing else than the large part taken in politics, and conse- quently the tone given, by those whose position places them above temptation. The masses of the people, who will rule the Coming Democracy, quite understand this in their way, and consequently never doubt that the Lords are honest, though they may often think them stupid. But English- men are very fond of honesty of this sort, and do not care much about stupidity ; indeed they rather like that too, as something congenial. Thus, if one of the two branches of the Legislature falls into disrepute on this ground, it will most probably not be the House of Lords. And when we come to the test of experience, much that is said about the Upper House being an impediment to liberty is found to be untrue. No doubt eager poli- ticians, when some pet measure has received a check, are often ready to make this charge, but history does not bear them out. As it is said that the axis of the earth sticks out at every town and village, so every enthusiast is apt to imagine that liberty pivots upon some project of his own. If this is checked, he cries out at once that the Capitol is in danger. But in looking back, we find that the Upper House has never permanently hindered any legislation which the nation properly desired. It has no doubt thrown out many measures which had passed the Lower House, The House of Lords. 75 and which have never been heard of since ; but these would have come up again, and eventually have passed, if they had possessed sufficient vitality to justify their becoming laws. For laws, like the Spartan children, must prove that they can stand mountain exposure, before we can accept them as fit to become citizens. The advantages of such an opportunity of reconsidera- tion, far more than counterbalance, as a general rule, any disadvantages of delay. For it can rarely happen that anything more serious than personal disappointment, or partisan defeat, will result from a year's delay in altering a law which has stood perhaps for a hundred, or in establishing a practice which has hitherto been un- known. No doubt legislation must keep going on, but goodness is of greater importance than quickness, and new blunders must be avoided as well as old defects remedied. Legislation, like marriage, if done in haste is most likely to have to be repented of at leisure ; hence no serious steps should be taken under the influence of first excitement, as it was one of the fixed public regula- tions of Eome, that the comitia of the people should not be held when there was thunder and lia;htnins. Goethe's motto — " No haste, no rest" — is a good one for a Legislature, and the conduct of our House of Lords on the whole harmonises with this. Certainly it looks like the treachery of Absalom to try to steal the hearts of the people away from the Constitution, because sometimes they must wait a little before they get what they want. Not only may we say that the House of Lords is not the enemy of liberty, but we may also maintain that, as a rule, the nobles of England have been amongst its best friends. It has been the happy fortune of our country 76 The Coming Democracy. that political and class divisions have never had much to do with each other. The political parties, whatever the questions dividing them from time to time, have always drawn recruits more or less from all classes, and so their disputes have never degenerated into class squabbles, nor their opinions into class watchwords. We have had White Eoses and Eed Eoses, Plantagenets and Tudors, Puritans and Eoundheads, Jacobins and Anti-Jacobins, Wliigs and Tories, Liberals, Conservatives, and Eadicals, but there have never been parties of the rich and of the poor, of the high and of the low, of the bond and of the free. It has been left for our own time, with its terms "Proletariat," "Haves," and "Have-Nots," to show that tendency to make ]3arty and class divisions coincide, which ought to be resisted, in the interests of true patriotism, by the supporters of every party. The House of Lords is frequently spoken of by those who dislike it, as if it must naturally be opposed to the freedom and advancement of the people ; but the Demo- cracy, as it becomes better educated, will, before it accepts such assumptions, insist on taking a wider view of history. For though, no doubt, the adverse opinion may be supported by facts in our own experience, and by others which our fathers have declared unto us, still we must take in also the old time before them, if we would draw a just conclusion. A year cannot be judged by a single season, nor a man by a few actions, so neither must a verdict be passed upon an institution from a fragment of its conduct. Of course if this frag- ment was a sufficient guide to character, so that from it we might infer future conduct as from a single bone geologists reconstruct an extinct animal, then the case The House of Lords. "]•] would be different ; but we all know that classes and institutions show many phases, no one of which can be taken as a fair criterion of the whole. It may be true that the House of Lords opposed the Eeforni Bill, and tlie Eepeal of the Corn Laws, and other measures which we identify with freedom, but it does not follow that in so doing it was actuated by such motives as we now naturally suppose. History must be looked at in its own light, and not in that reflected from subsequent periods, for this inevitably has a false, sentimental, colouring. The enthusiasm of principle has had much less to do with history than it now pleases us to imagine, for nearly all the great events have been due to the prosaic exigency of circumstances. The abolition of the censorship of the press, which has done perhaps more than anything else for civilisation, was effected in the reign of William III., not for the sake of any great principle of freedom, but merely to relieve the hardships of printers and booksellers ; the Septennial Act, whose repeal has, since the days of Chartism, been associated with popular demands, was passed in the reign of George I., not to retard the operation of pulilic opinion, but simply to avoid a Parliament of Jacobite reaction- aries ; India was conquered, not to extend the empire of tlie British nation, but to increase the gains of the East India Company ; and the war which resulted in the independence of the United States arose, not from colonial oppression in general, but from an effort to help this same Company in getting rid of an excessive .stock of tea. And so with most of the red-letter events about which the poetry of history has gathered ; we, in looking back, see how great were the principles in- 78 The Coming Democracy. volved : but evolution in history, as in nature, is mostly unconscious, so that the chief workers in both are gene- rally unaware of the tendency of their actions. Thus, as we cannot credit supporters with motives they did not possess, neither should we blame their opponents for dis- liking principles which no one then was thinking of. It may be true that the Eeform Bill implied the political emancipation of the masses of the people, and the Re- peal of the Corn Laws their social improvement, but these truths were rather the results of experience after- wards than the motives of advocacy at the time. When these changes were first proposed, the one was chiefly re- garded as a readjustment of political machinery, and the other as an alteration of fiscal arrangements ; and such changes might fairly be opposed as unadvisable by many who would have gone the other way had they seen that in them any question of right or wrong was involved. We may blame them for bad judgment, but mere opposition in itself cannot be taken as a proof of bad principle. Most historical events seem to have to go through three stages, like butterflies ; first comes the crawling of political expediency, then the stillness of public neglect, and lastly, the glory of political prin- ciple. A man may be ignorant for not knowing what the caterpillar will become, but he can hardly be called wicked. But even if the House of Lords had, during the last half century, frequently opposed popular measures with the deliberate intention of restricting popular liberty, we could not on that account safely assume that it will con- tinue doing this, as a general policy, and that therefore it. should be abolished. For classes, like individuals, The House of Lords. 79 have moods, and fifty years can be considered little more than a mood m the life of the English nobility ; for it does not, at any rate in so long-lived a class, go far beyond the duration of a single generation. Unless the race is falling into decay, and of this there are no signs, the future of a class cannot be indicated by the actions of one genera- tion alone, any more than the prospects of a family by the conduct of a single member alone. That wise fathers have often, perhaps more often than not, foolish sons, is taught us by all history, from the days of Eli and Samuel and David down to our own ; and so with equal clearness do we learn that wise sons often come from foolish fathers, as Alfred was the son of Ethelwolf, and Edward I. of Henry III. Similarly in the career of a race, or a class, there may be periods of error or weakness, through some wrong principle being accepted, or some wrong leader followed, or from some other cause, or some concurrence of circumstances ; but races and classes have pretty much the same tenacity as families, and consequently the same tendency to revert to the pro- duction of their characteristics. To judge what these characteristics are, we must not confine ourselves to that wliicli has happened in our own time, but must look as far as we can over the wide stretch of history. And when we come to do this, we find that the no- bility need have no cause to fear an adverse verdict so far as their services to freedom are concerned ; for they have mostly been its friends ever since King Alfred called liis retreat " The Isle of ISTobles," because the nobles chiefly stood by him in resisting the oppressions of the Danes. Except that it consisted of the " noble and the wise," we are not informed exactly who composed the 8o The Coming Democracy. Witenagemot, but we know that this was the first safe- guard of liberty and order, and the origin of our present parliamentary system of government. It was the nobles who headed the resistance to the Norman conquerors, so that William carried the chief of them about with him ; and it was they who, under Hereward, and Edwin, and Morcar, afterwards struggled for freedom. It was they who forced Henry I. to agree to observe the laws of Edward the Confessor for the protection of the people ; and the de- velopment of the feudal system, which turned the country into a great military encampment and made the posses- sion of land involve the payment of service, enabled them to hold the royal authority continually in check. Probably, indeed, this system would have overshadowed that authority, had not, in England, aU the tenants held directly from the King, and received their lands dis- tributed to prevent concentration ; but though their power was so great, the nobles seem rarely to have used it merely for their own advancement, but generally in- cluded the people in the benefits they obtained. The Commune Concilium Eegni, which consisted chiefly of nobles, resisted all arbitrary levies of money, and exacted from the Norman Kings those Charters which confirmed the ancient privileges of the people. When, by the separation of Normandy from England, the two races here became fused, it was the nobles who wrung from John that Magna Charta which is considered the chief corner-stone of our freedom, and whose pro\isions were principally to benefit the masses of the people ; for it is not aristocractic privileges which chiefly figure in that document, but popular securities, such as the extension of the rights of tenants in chief to inferior vassals ; the The House of Lords. 8i conferring of an inviolable franchise upon cities and boroughs ; the prohibition of taxation without the con- sent of the Great Council ; the extension of the freedom of commerce to alien merchants ; and the protection of freemen, and even villeins, from excessive fines, and from deprivation of the implements of husbandry. The Provisions of Oxford, which secured the principle of representation, were obtained from Henry III. by the barons under the Simon de Montfort who soon afterwards established our present House of Commons by sum- moning representatives from the towns as well as from the shires. It was the nobles who, led by Bohun and Bigod, resisted one of the greatest and most successful of our monarchs, and so compelled Edward I., who had just conquered Scotland and Wales, to confirm the Great Charter, and to abstain from levying taxes with- out the consent of Parliament. By the time of Edward III., the three great principles were fully estaljlished, that taxes must not be arbitrarily levied, that the two Houses must concur in any alteration of the law, and that the House of Commons may inquire into any public abuse, and impeach any privy councillor. As the monarch's weakness is the people's opportunity, so under the three Lancastrian Kings, who held the throne merely by a parliamentary title, the substantial advantages were also gained, that Bills, which could not be meddled with, were substituted for Petitions, which had been frequently altered, and that the House of Commons was thoroughly secured from royal interfer- ence. Thus was reared the fair fabric of English lil:)erty ; and how much it owed to the hands of the nobles, was proved G $2 The Coming Democracy. by the quickness with which it fell to pieces when these were laid low by the Wars of the Roses. When the nobles had been decimated and impoverished, the Tudors and Stuarts were left free to trample upon the rights which it had taken so long to win, so that the struggle had to be gone through all over again ; and up to this time we have done little more than win back what had been gained by the time of Henry VI. We are proud of our success ; but our knowledge of the greatness of the efforts which have been required from us, should make us appreciate those who accomplished as much so long before. Had their work remained, we should have been spared many struggles ; for had it not been for St. Albans, and Barnet, and Tewkesbury, there would have been no need for Edgehill, and Marston Moor, and Kaseby. The contests with the Stuarts were only to drive back royalty into the limits which had previously been set for it, and from which it had broken loose under the Tudors, after the restraining hand of the nobility had been weakened by wars and executions. How much that hand had restrained, is shown by the ease with which the Tudors did that which would have been allowed to no Plantagenet ; not only being the first to seat a woman on the throne, but also treating the crown as to be dis- posed of like their private property; besides levying unauthorised contributions, and playing fast and loose with Parliament. During the Tudor period we hear little of the great nobles, but they begin to come forward again when the evils of that period had to be remedied. The Stuarts, who paid for the excesses of the previous family — as Louis XVI. lost his head for Louis XIV. — were resisted The House of Lords. 83 not only by the Commons but also by the Lords, for the majority of these joined in the Petition of Eight, which passed the House of Lords without any material alteration. It was not until the Remonstrance in 1642, which only passed the Commons by a narrow majority, that the peers, led by Hyde and Falkland, began to hold back ; and even then many of tliem, as the Earls of Korthumberland, Essex, and Manchester, still stood by the popular party. Though the nobility generally sided with Charles I., they never supported him warmly, and were chiefly moved by the desire of preserving the Constitution. How little they were regarded as enemies of freedom, is shown by the fact that ten years after the House of Peers had been abolished, in a rusli of revolutionary enthusiasm, Cromwell, whose re- publicanism had not prevented him from marrying two of his daughters to noblemen, tried to revive it; but he met with the same success as Xapoleon II L in a similar experiment. Charles II., who, acting on his grandfather's motto, " A deo rex, a rege lex," tried to succeed where his father had failed, and who only needed the same honesty, to have shared the same fate ; could get none but the least respectable of the nobility to support him, and. had to banish the only one with any character to lose. When he began to feel that it was necessary to listen to reason, the House of Peers advised him to meet the wishes of the House of Commons,and so he was induced to tear up the illegTil Indulgence. It has often happened that at one time certain acts have been required for the preservation of that liberty, of which at another time they would have been gross violations : G 2 84 The Coming Democracy. so in thi.s reign, it was necessary to restrain that Eoman Catholicism which was identified with the dominance of French influence and the suppression of English self-government. In the steps necessary for this, the House of Commons was thoroughly supported by the House of Lords, as in the passing of the Test Acts; namely, that of 1673, for the public of&cers, and that of 1678, for all members of either House of Par- liament. In this last it was only by two voices that the Upper House agreed to a solitary exception in favour of the king's brother. James II. was even less successful than his brother in attracting the support of the nobles, but twenty-nine of them came forward to stand by the famous Seven Bishops ; and the House of Lords passed without alteration the resolution of the Commons deposing the King, and annexing to the new settlement a Declaration of Eights. During the disorder caused by the transition, the peers and bishops interposed to preserve order and carry on the government, and ninety of them signed an address to William III. The House of Lords acted with the Commons, not only in removing the disabilities of Dissenters, but also in passing the famous Bill of Eights, that third great charter of English freedom ; as well as in carrying through the Act of Settlement, which supplied some of the deficiencies of this Bill, and added certain reliable safeguards, forbidding placemen to sit in parliament, and making the commissions of the judges irrevocable. By this time the Constitution, as we have it, may be said to have been completed in all its essential par- ticulars; and we learn two lessons from this survey.. The House of Lords. 85 One, that the struggle from Charles I. to William III, only resulted in building up again the edifice as it was before the Tudors, for no fundamental principle had been added ; and the other, that in this reconstruction the nobility bore their fair share, as they had borne the leading part in the first construction. As to affairs since, it is necessary to bear in mind that the distinction of Whigs and Tories arose from differences, not about liberty, but as to whether the throne should be occupied by the House of Brunswick or that of Stuart ; hence William III. favoured the Wliigs, as also did George I., while Anne preferred the Tories. In this last reign it was the Lords who condemned Sacheverell for preacliing the doctrines of passive obe- dience, and repression of Dissenters, whilst the masses of the people supported him ; and the Commons passed a Bill to exact greater conformity, and to compel school- masters to obtain a bishop's licence. During the reigns of the first two Georges, political attention was absorbed by the attempts of the Stuarts, and by the foreign en- tanglements into wliich this country was drawn through the Hanoverian succession, and the consequent extension of the colonial empire. For the motive — added to that of gain — of striking a distant blow at a near foe, accounts for most of our colonial acquisitions. The long reign of George III. was chiefly taken up with the American War and the contest with Napoleon ; and no one will pretend that any great principles were involved in the struggles of Pitt, North, Grenville, Shelburne, Fox, Addington, or Percival ; as they had not been in those of Walpole, Pulteney, Townshend, Stanhope, or Sun- derland. 86 The Coming Democracy. It is only with the reign of George IV. that we come to the period when onr present partisan classifications have any historical value ; and even if during this period the House of Lords has always gone wrong, a short space of sixty years should not be long enough to condemn an institution which has done such good service during more than six hundred. But such a charge would not be true. The House of Lords may have been slow to remove re- strictions, such as the Catholic disabilities, which had been established purely in obedience to popular feeling ; but it did not obstinately resist : for the Test and Corpora- tion Acts of Charles II. were repealed under the premier- ship of the Duke of Wellington, and the Catholic Relief Bill passed the House of Lords by a large majority. The Reform Bill and the Repeal of the Corn Laws are the two measures which have chiefly determined the present condition of parties ; for the effects of political struggles remain long after their causes have passed away. The House of Lords was slow to see the advis- ablity of either of these changes, but it did not stand out any longer than was necessary to give assurance, that what might have been a transient fancy, was the settled wish of the people. Within about a year of the first reading of the Reform Bill passing the House of Commons by a majority of one, it was allowed to go through the House of Lords and become law ; whilst the Repeal of the Corn Laws was accepted by the House of Lords without delay, after it had passed the Commons. Even if these measures had involved fundamental principles, and so been available as tests, there would have been nothing in connection with them to justify the belief that the House of Lords has lost that stead- The House of Lords. S/ fast and sober attacliment to freedom which has for so long characterised its history. Thus when the Democracy — as with increasing educa- tion, it will be more and more inclined and able to do, — ^looks properly over the past conduct of the House of Lords, it will grow less and less disposed to believe that the influence of that House has been inimical, or even obstructive, to the cause of true freedom. It may, however, be said that Democracies do not care much for facts but are chiefly led by theories ; and so the English Democracy is sure to be growingly im- pressed with the absurdity of continuing, as a branch of legislature, a House consisting of members who belong to it merely by the accident of birth, and who, since they are subject to no election and cannot be displaced, may truly be described as " irresponsible legislators." But the Democracy may go further, and ask what is meant by the responsibility of a legislator. If it be answered that this means liability to election, then the De- mocracy may question if this is, after all, the best sort of responsibility. For in a general way responsibility is determined by stake : as in a business, he is most responsible who stands to lose most; and in private affairs, one man is responsible for another when he risks something by him. So the best responsibility for good legislation, is to be found in those who would lose most by bad ; and who are these if not the peers of the country ? The day has gone by for supposing that one class of the people can do well when the country gene- rally does badly ; and the landowners of England have had ample experience, if they needed the lesson, to assure them for all time that what is good for the nation as a 88 The Coming Democracy. whole is good for them, and that what is bad for the nation as a whole is bad for them. And as no class is so intimately concerned in the welfare of the country, neither is any so indissolubly bound to it. For if things are going wrong, all other sorts of people can get out of the way ; the business man may wind up his affairs, the shopkeeper may dispose of his goods, the farmer may sell off his stock, the mechanic may pack up his tools, but the landowner must stick to his land. The arrangements of primogeniture and entail increase the rigidity of this necessity: but even if these were abolished, and individual landowners were at liberty to sell their land, those who bought it would become land- owners in their turn ; so the fact would still be true that landowners as a class must remam, for land is the one thing which cannot be removed. Here, then, is a responsibility of a sort which in other matters every- body feels to be the strongest, namely, the responsibility of sustenance ; and this responsibility is one which cannot be escaped from ; yet it is thought reasonable to talk of those who are bound by it as " irresponsible " compared with Members of Parliament w^ho have little more to fear from their folly than rejection at the next election. The English Democracy has a fancy in all offices for those who have most at stake ; and therefore it is not likely to be persuaded to exclude from legisla- tion that class which has by far the strongest interest in the promotion of the general welfare of the country. But it may be said that herein is no reason why this class should form a separate House. We are asked why it should not take its luck amongst the others, and stand in open competition upon its own merits. If, The House of Lords. 89 however, as we assume, the Democracy has come to the conclusion, as all other democracies have hitherto done, that it is advisable to have a Second House ; it will be sure to ask where it could so well find the material as amongst those whose position alone is a safeguard of independence, and whose interest alone is undoubtedly- bound up with that of the country. The two chief requisites for a member of an Upper House are courage and care : courage to do what is right, so that mistakes which cannot afterwards be rectified may be checked ; and care to do what is good, so that the promotion of the general welfare may be the strong and leading motive. Not being bound to electors secures the one, and being bound to land, secures the other ; at least in both cases as far as human experience has been able to succeed. The Democracy will also see another objection to tliis suggestion, for it is sharp enough to appreciate the advantage of having peers excluded from the House of Commons. If this House was thrown freely open to them, their immense influence would be certain to win for them a decided preference, probably often a pre- dominance ; so there is a wisdom, manifest even to their enemies, in shutting them up in a House by themselves, provided the power of this House is properly limited. It will scarcely be denied that the power of the House of Lords is now thus limited, for it could hardly be limited much more without being abolished altogether. As the Coming Democracy, then, is not likely to meddle with the existence or character of the House of Lords, neither will it care much to alter its constitution, for it could not do that without increasing its power. 90 The Coming Democracy. The sons of peers often feel it a hardship to leave the House of Commons, and have as much as they can do to repress themselves within the necessities of their new position ; but if the House of Lords was also made a temporary arena for men of talent, it would be sure to grow restless, and would probably attract sufficient public interest to be enabled to break through its bounds. The Democracy will have sense enough to see this danger, and to avoid it. No doubt there are certain doctrines about Second Chambers in general, and the House of Lords in par- ticular, which have long formed part of the regular stock- in-trade of Radicalism : but we may have confidence that improved education will make these increasingly un- acceptable ; just as buyers, who become knowing, refuse to take what are called " old shopkeepers," but insist on having something newer and better. And amongst these " newer and better " things which the Democracy of the future will obtain, will be a truer appreciation of the advantages of the Constitution it has received, and a better knowledge of how to make use of them. ( 91 ) CHAPTER III. The House of Commons. In trying to consider the probable future of the House of Commons, we miss a help which has been of much use in connection with the two other elements of the Constitution, for we have far less historical experience to guide us. Plenty of Monarchies, of various ages and countries, have risen and fallen ; plenty of oligarchies have come and gone, but the English House of Commons seems to be the first generally-elected deliberative assembly which has ruled a nation. There have of course been plenty of general assemblies : but these have been either, like the gatherings of the Athenians, merely public meetings, wanting the authority of election ; or else, like the comitia of Ptome, merely class representations, wanting ruling power. Just as the ancients were ignorant of the steam engine and the telegraph, so they seem never to have struck upon the idea of repijesentative government. To the little Greek states, this want did not much matter ; but to Eome, as its Empire extended, it became one of the chief causes of decay. For Rome, which was always in theory municipally self-governed, in practice soon fell into the hands of a bureaucratic assembly ; so that the 92 The Coming Democracy. citizens, wanting the device of representation, exercised no real control, and yet had to be courted because they possessed the nominal power. Such a position offers easy temptations to any man who wishes to bring both assembly and people under himself; and such men have not been wanting from Tiberius to the Napoleons. Happily for us, the representative system sprang out of the much-abused feudal system, which taught the ideas of orders of the people, and of measured services, and therefore of proportionate taxation. This process of the development of representation from feudalism, was helped by William the Conqueror's causing all freeholders to take the oath of allegiance direct to himself ; then by the changes through which the Commons won the rights, first to share the power of the king and lords, and afterwards to have exclusive control of taxation; also by the extinction of the old feudal nobility in the 15th century ; until it was completed by the limitation of the Monarchy in the 17th century. It is said that History repeats itself, but it must sometimes have struck a new note, or there would be nothing to repeat ; it must in some things be a development, and so more than a mere recurrence of cycles. Our House of Commons thus seems to be one of these notes, and, therefore, we must be careful about applying to it what are called historical parallels. Greece and Eome cannot help us much here, for neither of them ever adopted the principle of government by popular representation ; nor can the Italian Republics, for they, in as far as they were not copies of ancient models, were either oligarchic or family despotisms. All the European nations have either never tried the principle, or else only so transiently and The House of Commons. 93 so recently as not to come into consideration, so that to England belongs the credit of adding this experiment to the capital of the world's experience. And an institution which is now in full vigour after six hundred years of life, may be called more than an experiment ; for History tells of no form of government which has existed so long, except, perhaps, we go back to the lines of the Egyptian kings. But if it be an experiment, though so long, it is yet only partial ; for even when our House of Commons has vanished into the dust of the past, the experiment cannot be complete. Of course we know that government by popular representation must, like all other human contrivances, sometime disappear ; though it may " have its day," and that a very long one, still at last it must " cease to be," for at best it can be only a " broken light" of sometliing better ; but we have had no experience of how and why such a principle dies, and, therefore, in anticipating its future, we have to depend almost entirely upon theories, modified of course by past experience. That familiar of our boyhood, the well-worn New Zealander surveying the ruins of St. Paul's, may have, in this, the advantage of us ; but even his experience may not be conclusive, for the principle of representative government may still be living on elsewhere, and may only have ended here, because there was an end of people to govern. But, in so long a life, the House of Commons has often changed its character, and it seems likely that it was more popularly representative in the early part than afterwards; so that even the Eeform Bills may lie included in the statement, that nearly all our legislation during the last fifty years, has consisted of efibrts to 94 The Coming Democracy. return to a former state. And this is inevitable ; for a nation a thousand years old, which has possessed the same Constitution for six hundred, must surely have found out pretty well all that is to be learned in the science of government. Law naturally divides itself into two parts ; one consisting of regulations depending upon the eternal principles of right and wrong, and the other of arrangements called for by the practical exigencies of the times. It is with these last that such a body as the House of Commons is, in its legislative faculty, almost exclusively concerned. It has to apply fixed principles to changing circumstances, but the character of this application will be greatly affected by the degree in which the House is subject to popular influence. Tlie House of Commons, which had been a popular assembly in the time of the Stuarts, gradually fell more and more under aristocratic influence until, demoralised by the corruption of Walpole and the domination of Pitt, it had become, by the early part of this century, little more than another representative of the upper classes. Now, however, it has been made so thoroughly popular again that no further readjustments, either in extending the franchise or redistributing seats, can do more than intensify that which is already the ruling characteristic. The House of Commons has recovered its power as well as its character, so that at no period of its history has its share of the authority of government been so great ; and if the well-known crest of the Isle of Man — three legs joined together — be taken for the English Con- stitution, certainly the leg representing the House of Commons has lately been growing larger whilst the The House of Commons. 95 others have become less. In so far, then, as the share of power, and the representative character, of the House of Commons are concerned, the Democracy has already " Come ; " but it is only " Coming " in respect to the use which will be made of these. Let us consider each separately. And, as to the first, most people seem to think that the natural tendency of the Democracy must be to increase still further the power of the House of Commons, but it is not clear that this will be so. For this expectation is based on the assumption that the Democracy must con- sider itself especially identified with this one branch of the Legislature, and overlooks the fact that there are many democratic sympathies tending rather towards the Crown or towards the House of Lords. Amongst these is the natural impatience — ready at any time to rise even to contempt — which most Englishmen feel for talking assemblies ; and this feeling becomes much stronger as we go lower down amongst the masses, and, therefore, will be more likely to tell in a democratic regime. The working classes have not that pride in the House of Commons as such which the middle classes have nursed during the last fifty years ; they have been glad to let it fight for them, as it was willing to do so, but they would not hesitate about dismissing it if they found it was becoming silly, or weak, or overbearing. Many politicians would be surprised if they knew how few hond-jide working men care to read the debates in the House, much less to go and hear them. The House of Commons is identified with middle-class liberty, but not with lower-class aspirations ; to the first it is a necessary instrument, but to the second it is only an g6 The Coming Democracy. accidental help, and may come to be regarded as useless, and even encumbering. It may, however, be said that this is because the House has- hitherto belonged to the middle-classes, and will be changed now that the masses have their share in it. But it takes a long time for these feelings to grow or to die, and meanwhile we see very slight signs that such a process is going on ; for there are few large con- stituencies in which, if they were left to themselves, and not basely attracted or unreasonably excited, one half of the voters, certainly of the lower-class voters, would take the trouble to go to the poll. Working men may give attention now and again under the influence of transient excitement, but very few of them take such an abiding interest in the House of Commons as would fortify it in any attempts at aggrandisement. And, meanwhile, there is a danger that its power may seriously collapse under the stress of some vital national trial. Such trials come occasionally to all nations : and with us they have, in the past, been generally fought through the Constitution because the ruling classes have had undoubting faith in that ; but there may come a strain when the masses will not have patience for such a method, but will insist on getting relief by a short cut. The multitude cannot bear suspense ; and it is not certain that if it had been our ruler, we should not several times in the past have been driven to set aside our usual methods of governing, as the Eomans at all such crises called in Dictators. The only time in our history when the masses were masters, they took this course, or at least acquiesced in it ; and they may take it again, for they have always a feeling about The House of Commons. 97 the House of Commons like that expressed by Cori- olanus about his mother's tears — • " That common chances common men can bear ; That when the sea is calm, all boats alike Show mastership in floating." But when a storm gets up, they are apt to prefer some- thing else. The natural man everywhere has a great dislike for the delays of reasoning, and a great liking for the decisiveness of action. Government by a deliberative assembly is a product of development, and is often not congenial to men in our uncultured, or little cultured, state ; and this is the state to which Democracy more or less brings us back. Kings were the first rulers, because masses of men could not tolerate the delays and vacil- lations of Councils. So they hoisted on their shields, as monarch, the man who could make himself most feared by his enemies, and most obeyed by his fellows. Even if they had a Council, they gave it little weight; as Agamemnon easily got his own way with Achilles against the advice of his chiefs. The mob everywhere can do very well with the hundred hands of Briareus, but has no fancy for his fifty heads. Of course educa- tion and culture will do much to rectify this tendency, but we have plenty of instances showing how strong it is even amongst people like ourselves. Our own government is the only one subject to democratic influence, in which successful soldiers have not naturally high civil authority open to them, however unfitted tliey may be for it. In the Eepublics of South America tliis is always a matter of course ; and in that of the United States it is sure to occur at any time of crisis ; whilst in H 98 The Coming Democracy. that of France, short-lived as it has been, this tendency has found expression once, and probably will again, at the next time of trial. The Northmen, when asked by Charles the Simple the title of their ruler, replied, "None; we are all equally free:" but they soon chose one when they came to face the difficvilties of settled government. Men only learn very gradually that all these difficulties, even the greatest, can be met by a representative government; and it is doubtful if the masses of any nation, even of our own, have yet learnt this properly. Therefore we can never be sure that under some stress of circumstances they may not, like the Israelites, demand a king; and in spite of the oppressions foretold by the political Samuels, persist in crying out, " Nay, but we will have a king over us." Let those who wonder what would then become of the power of the Commons, recall Cromwell ordering the mace away as a bauble, and putting the keys of the House in liis pocket. Of course, it may be said that all this is very im- probable, and certainly everybody hopes so ; but, never- theless, it always remains possible, and such a possi- bility must be a check on the power of the House of Commons. This possibility, also, must be increased as the government becomes more democratic; and there- fore, also, this check must grow stronger. Damocles could not revel in his power with the sword hanging over his head by a hair ; and with a democratic regime, no representative body can feel safe, until the masses are quite convinced of its adequacy under any circum- stances. But even if the masses of the people of England were The House of Commons. 99 now so convinced as to be certain to remain always loyal to the House of Commons, it would not follow that they would support it in taking power from the other parts of the Legislature. For with the character- istic of impatience under particular circumstances, the mob combines that of inertia under general circum- stances. It is often assumed that the lower classes are always restless, whereas such restlessness as they show is chiefly that of personal discomfort ; and when this is removed, they relapse into that natural state which makes them prefer to keep all things as they are. They will be aroused by some irritating trouble or some unreasonable wrong, but nothing less will stir up such enthusiasm as would be necessary to fortify the House of Commons in further restricting the power of the House of Lords, or the prerogative of the Crown. It is not likely that either of these would allow themselves to be seriously meddled with without making a fight for it, and in such a fight the House of Commons could not win unless it was helped to victory by the eagerness of the people for the change. And it seems very unlikely that anything can happen to arouse such a feeling, for the quivers of both have been deprived of all arrows to make rankling wounds ; and in the absence of such a feeling, the people generally are sure to be in favour of leaving things alone. But even if a strong feeling of this sort could be aroused, it would probably not be maintained sufficiently to carry through the change ; for like the winter sun in some Swiss valleys, popular enthusiasm seldom shines long enough to melt the snows of indifference. But besides being unlikely to see its power increased H 2 loo The Coming Democracy. under the Coming Democracy, and not unlikely to see it give way in some crisis, the House of Commons is also very likely to see it diminished by the influence of a growing rival. This rival is the Press, which in its present form is such a new institution in the world that we have no historical precedent to guide us as to its probable future ; but we can see enough for ourselves to feel sure that that future will be one of growing, and perhaps of startling, power. There has been a change in the abundance of newspapers, and in the universality with which they are read, such as even our fathers could not have dreamt of ; and of which, probably, only our sons will see the full effects. Everybody now reads, and regularly reads, newspapers ; kings and labourers, nobles and farmers, masters and workmen, are alike in this ; to this fashion have we all come at last — liigh and low, clever and stupid, wise and unwise — so that news- papers have realised, in one way at least, the old dream of a Eepublic of Letters. Whether we are quite pleased with the realisation is another matter, for such dreams, like the promises of the ancient oracles, are often fulfilled in unexpected ways; but, at any rate, here we are face to face with a new and great fact. It may happen — nay, indeed it is certain — that this phenomenon will eventually disappear ; for surely there is something better than this in store for humanity : but before such a fashion of the world passes away, it must produce very considerable effects, such as have scarcely yet begun to be felt. As we are so repeatedly taught that the quantity of alcohol consumed afi'ects the physical condi- tion of the nation, so it is reasonable to believe that its mental condition must be affected bv this universal The House of Commons. ioi newspaper diet. These effects may be as good as that statesman believed who said that a sheet of the Times was more beneficial than all the works of Thucydides ; or they may be as bad as those fear who see that the steady reading of good books is daily becoming rarer, and that even educated people are losing the habit; and therefore the faculty, of continuous mental application : but, at any rate, such a universal practice must tell decidedly one way or the other. One effect is certainly very evident, and this is, that men take their political opinions and feelings much more from newspapers, and much less from statesmen, than formerly. This tendency is rapidly increasing, so that we can tell from their con- versation what newspaper most people read. And it is natural that this should be so, for in a busy age everybody shirks trouble ; and it is so much easier to take opinions ready made, and invitingly dressed up, than to work them out for ourselves from scattered utterances and varied experiences. So the habit increases of not reading reports of debates, but of being contented with lively summaries and editorial comments ; and this is the reason why parliamentary reports are becoming shorter in the newspapers, for it is found that the public cares less for them. It may be said, however, that the papers are not makers of opinions, since they only reflect those of their readers. And this is true in some degree, for newspapers cannot live unless they minister to that which is one of the greatest delights of humanity, namely, having its own prejudices and feelings expressed in better language than it can find itself Nothing so much pleases readere or hearers as having articulation found for that wliicli 102 The Coming Democracy. was already in themselves, but inarticulate ; hence new truth is never immediately popular, as the speeches of Demosthenes were received in silence, whilst after those of -^schines the air was rent with applause. But, for all that, newspapers exercise a commanding influence ; since, if they are rarely great creators of opinions, they are always great distributors of them, and most people are quite content to take what is given them in this way with- out question. For the public generally, though it would indignantly deny it, in politics acts on the good old plan, by which infantine faith is inculcated, of shvitting its eyes, and opening its mouth, and swallowing what its newspaper sends. The character in Goldsmith's " Good- Natured Man," who says he has made up his mind, and so is ready for reasons, not inaccurately expresses the general mental condition ; and it would be gross flattery to apply the word " opinion," in any strict sense, to what passes for such with the great majority. Impulses and prejudices, especially as we get more democratic, are the chief political forces, and it is just over these that newspapers have most influence. And even so far as opinion proper is concerned, though it may be true that the papers can never be far ahead, they may yet be suffi- ciently in front to act as leaders ; like an Alpine guide, who shows the road, though he is roped to his followers. Hence it seems certain that the newspapers will more and more mould that public oj)inion which Parliament is bound to obey : and thus, as in the past the chief function of the House of Lords has been considered to be that of registering the decrees of the Commons ; so, in the future, it may happen that the chief function of the House of Commons will be that of obeying a public The House of Commons. 103 opinion extraneously formed. This change will imply a great loss of power ; for, whether it be true or not that lie who makes the songs of a people is greater than lie who makes their laws, it is certain that he who makes their opinions is greater than he who obeys them. Thus, whilst it is not likely that, under the Coming Democracy, the power of the House of Commons will be increased, and not unlikely that at a time of some great crisis it may fail ; it seems certain that it will have to give way considerably before the growing influence of the Press. The share of power which this influence is gaining must come from somewhere, for the sum total of power cannot be increased ; and as the Crown and the House of Lords have little of this sort to lose, and are further removed, the victim must be the House of Commons, which has taken nearly all to itself, and is the first to be come at. And now let us turn to the probable effects of the Democracy upon the personnel of the House of Com- mons. It is thought by some that the great lowering of the franchise, which has in town constituencies given the voting preponderance to the working-classes, must even- tually result in the election to the House of Commons of a greatly increased number of veritable working-men members. This would certainly happen in any country where class divisions were more marked than they are in England, or where the solidarity of the nation was less complete ; but it is not the habit of Englishmen to suppose that a man's political opinions or feelings are much affected by his position in life. Class distrusts are not with us very pronounced ; but amongst the people 104 The Coming Democracy. of all classes, there is a general feeling that suitable men of every class are both willing and able to deal fairly with the wants of every class. Besides, our legislation has less and less a tendency to have class bearings ; for we have established such general freedom and equality, that the questions into which class feelings can largely enter, must be for the future both few and unimportant. Our imperial position also strongly helps to counteract such a tendency ; for in a Parliament which has to direct the affairs of such a great and varied Empire, matters concerning merely the relations of the people amongst each other, must of necessity be comparatively dwarfed in importance. There is, likewise, an absurdity, which the working-classes will not fail to appreciate, in sending to Parliament a man merely because he is qualified in some one subject which may not come up for years, and which, if it does, must then only be one amongst hun- dreds. The great work of Parliament is not to make new laws or alter old ones, but it is to carry on the affairs of the country ; and to make a man a sharer in that, solely because he is in favour of some local change, would be as unreasonable as to take a partner into some great and varied mechanical business, simply because he could suggest an alteration in one or two machines. States- manship seems latterly to have been showing a gTeat tendency towards disintegrating pettiness : it is thought to be a sufficient qualification for ruling the most exten- sive and complicated emj^ire the world has ever known, if a candidate is in favour of stopping the sale of beer on Sundays, or of abolishing certain Eegulations for Health ; whilst he who is properly fitted in every other respect is to be rejected, because he is in favour of compulsory The House of Commons. 105 vaccination, or cannot see the advisability of giving women Parliamentary votes. The reason of such ludi- crous violations of proper political perspective — as childish as the art in Chinese pictures, which paints a flower-pot the same size as a mountain — seems to lie in a natural tendency of humanity to consider everything easy which it does not understand. No one dreams of trusting the driving of engines to those who know nothing about it, or of letting ignorant people take up any responsible and skilled occupation ; but, like the mian who on being asked if he could play the violin said he did not know but he would try, so we are ready to let any one try at statemanship who is willing to gratify us in some favourite whim. Such a tendency, unless checked, will eventually be very injurious to Democracy ; for one necessary result of returning many incapable men to Parliament, must be to place power virtually in the hands of those who are capable, and so to restore, in reality, that government by the few which is opposed to the democratic spirit. The best corrective for this ten- dency is to be found, and only found, in a wider political horizon : we must get out of the little valley of our own local concerns ; and climbing the hill of knowledge, we must look with the eye of judgment over all the vast realm committed to our care ; we must realise the full- ness of the position to which we have been born, and the greatness of the issues which have been put into our hands, not only for ourselves, but also for civilisation and the world. Not, be it understood, that working men may not do this as well as other people ; on the contrary, many of them would do it better. All that is meant is that they io6 The Coming Democracy. should not be sent to Parliament just because, and only because, they are working men ; for the same reason that landlords should not be sent merely because they are landlords, nor merchants because they are merchants. In statesmanship, as in everything else, the only quali- fication should be that a man is fit for it. Of course, it cannot be denied that some of the condi- tions of fitness tell against working men, the principal of which is the homely one of bread and butter. A working man should mean a man who works, using the word in its real meaning in this connection, and not in that sentimental sense in which archbishops or soldiers sometimes talk of working harder than mechanics ; and a man who thus works, cannot spare time to attend Par- liament. One who has been a working man may have saved enough to do this, but so far he has ceased to be a real working man ; and will probably be a worse represen- tative of working men than one who has never had any- thing to do with them, as officers who have risen from the ranks are often least liked by the common soldiers. The plan of representatives being supported by their fellows, seems the best way out of the difficulty ; but this, besides necessarily being capable only of very limited application, introduces the dangerous principle of delegation, and tends to undermine the necessary in- dependence of a Member of Parliament. Besides a work- ing man would in this respect suffer a cruel stress, as it would be hard, after sitting some years at St. Stephen's, to have to return to the lathe or the loom. However, of two evils the least must be borne, and it is better to have such Members on these terms than not at all ; so we must trust the sturdy English character for the rest. The House of Commons. 107 But this is not the only drawback. Another is to be found in the fact that working men, except those who are generally the least respectable as men and least creditable as workers, are unaccustomed, as the hack- neyed phrase goes, to public speaking. How much this counts for in popular constituencies is shown by the in- creasing readiness with which they take up barristers ; who generally can express themselves in some way, and have the additional recommendation of a presumable facility in adapting themselves to clients. When these fail, working men are apt to let themselves be repre- sented, or rather misrepresented, by men — voluble talkers — of their own class ; whilst the men who alone are fit for the duty, shrink from it. Education, however, and the spread of general culture, must be looked to to diminish this difficulty, as also that other — perhaps the greatest of all to Englishmen — of associating with, and doing justice to themselves amongst, a majority of different social habits. But in spite of these difficulties, it is most probable that under the Coming Democracy the number of working- men Members of Parliament will be gradually and, before long, largely increased, so that they will give a distinct tone to the Assembly. It is probable, also, that on the whole that tone will be for good, though, to begin with, it may give a shock to sensitive nerves. But what is good is rarely pleasant ; and it seems that a government like ours, which has to deal with such masses of working people, cannot have the necessary strength without a larger direct action of working-class spirit ; as Eomulus was suckled by wild beasts and trained by shepherds, to show that his authority required the infusion of rugged io8 The Coming Democracy. force. Nor does it follow that in such a change we shall be moving in the direction of handing over the city to that guardianship of copper and iron which must lead, as the ancient oracle declared, to destruction ; for the gold which is needed for government, is not the metal which in commercial and social life goes by that name. The time has come when the English nation needs teaching, in a striking mamier, that money is not neces- sarily a measure of worth. And even if the results of such a change were not such as we should like, it would not follow that the change itself ought not to be made. For a Commonwealth is a Constitution of the entire people to promote the com- mon welfare, and that common welfare may include things which the minority may not think to be welfare at all. As has been remarked before, there may be a very great difference between what others think good for us, and what we think good for ourselves ; and if we are in the majority, and the Constitution professes to follow the will of the majority, it is our right to have what we think good for ourselves. A Democracy would be a delusion which merely meant getting working-class voters to carry out middle-class schemes ; but this is what many Liberal politicians seem to expect. No, the Demo- cracy has its own ideals and will try to realise these, as it has a perfect right to do under a democratic Constitu- tion. There is no use in liberty if we may not try to be happy, not in someone-else's way but in our own, so long as that injures no person and violates no sound principle. So no one will have a right to complain if, as seems certain, the personal character of the House of Commons is considerably altered, under the Coming Democracy, The House of Commons. 109 by the infusion of a strong working-class element. Such a change will produce marked effects, of which some will be considered good and others bad. Amongst the first may be mentioned an increased interest in politics amongst working men. At present the attention they give is little more than spasmodic, for the British workman who is steadily watching the course of affairs and forming his own opinions on ques- tions as they arise, is chiefly a picture of the fancy ; " a false creation proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain." Politically the working-classes as a body act only as umpires in emergencies, interfering when specially roused, but generally letting things slide. As long as they formed only a minority of the voters, this did not so much matter ; but it is extremely dangerous to the Con- stitution, when those who have the supreme power, only strike in at uncertain intervals. It must always be borne in mind that voting is not only a privilege, but also a duty ; it is a power which every one who possesses, not only may exercise if he choses, but is also bound to exercise unless he has sufficient reason to the contrary. Tliis is one of the strong arguments against giving par- liamentary votes to women, who would use them like ribbons to be worn only at festivals; but continuous political power should imply continuous political interest, and corresponding activity, which with women would be neither possible nor desirable. But with men we have a right to expect these, and we must also to a reasonable extent obtain them if we mean to have any stability in our history. At present the uncertainty as to whether the majority of the voters are watching affairs, and as to when they will interfere in them, paralyses every no The Coming Democracy. Government in succession, and tends to bring our Con- stitution itself into contempt. We must look, for a cure, to the more direct and constant participation of the working-classes in the management of affairs ; and it seems that this can only be obtained by a more real and extensive representation of those classes in the House of Commons. Such a representation must also act as a great pre- ventive of disaffection and disturbance ; for when a disaster comes, it is always those who have been least concerned in managing, who are sure to be most unreasonable in blaming. Every man can ride a horse but he who has to stick on its back, and in most things, every one can do right but those who have to do it. As Eochefoucauld says that we can all bear other people's troubles, so we can all perform other people's duties, and nothing so mitigates our criticism as having them made our own. Where the people have no share in power, whenever there is a reverse from which they suffer, some victim has to be found for their wrath ; hence with such governments, unsuccessful generals are seldom spared and never tried again. So by having no responsibility, the people most easily can blame freely, and yet preserve that safety which cannot " Better be lield, nor more attain'd, than by A plea below the first ; for what miscarries Shall be the general's fault, though he perform To the utmost of a man — and giddy censure Will then cry out of Marcus — ' Oh, if he Had borne the business ! ' " By putting the people amongst those in the first place, we therefore both make them understand properly the difficulties of success, and bear patiently the trials of The House of Commons. hi failure. It is very easy for those who know nothing about government to say, with Henry of Navarre, that it should give every man a fowl in his pot ; but whoever tries the experiment, soon finds how difficult it is. Thus one advantage of a larger direct representation of the working-classes in Parliament, will be, that when a crisis comes, those classes will be able to learn — from men who have seen for themselves, and in whom they believe — that the Constitution is not necessarily to blame, and there- fore should not necessarily be altered. It may require altering, of course, but there will be a great difference if the change is made because there is a need of an altera- tion, and not merely because there is a cry for a victim. Another advantage from such a representation will be, that the expenses of elections will be diminished. And this evil is now crying out for redress, for it has become so vast and universal that it threatens to undermine our political system. No nation, the door of whose govern- ing Assembly opens only to a money key, can ever long be really free ; for whatever be the composition of its electorate, or the Charters of its liberty, these will become worth no more than those constitutional forms which the early Csesars apparently so scrupulously observed and really so thoroughly violated. Of all tyrants, money is the worst; for it is the most unjust and the most debasing ; it is the very reverse of mercy, for it is twice cursed, cursing "him that gives and him that takes." And this tyrant is now rapidly extending his sway over us ; the last elections are said to have cost twice as ' much as any preceding ones, and very few Members, if weighed in the scales of justice, would be entitled to retain their seats. Scarcely a single constituency is now 112 The Coming Democracy. open to any man who is not disposed to spend a forturie upon it ; so that all our changes to increase popular control are being nullified, since we have only escaped from the frying-pan of aristocracy to fall into the fire of pluto- cracy. As Eome was ruined by the demoralisation of its citizens, so England is in danger of being undermined by the extravagancies and corruptions of its elections. It seems as if our election expenses of all sorts, legal and illegal, will act like the panem et circenses which brought disaster to the imperial city. And all this in spite of, or more truly, by the help of, that system of voting by ballot which was to work such wonders for purity, but which never, in any country or age of the world, ever foreboded anything but evil to the nation which adopted it. It may seem at first an admirable protection for the weak, but, as Cicero says, "It is far better to restrain the excessive influence of the great for unjustifiable objects in elective suffrages, than to give the people a mask or a veil by which, while the more honourable citizens are kept in ignorance of their individual sentiments, they may thus make the ballot a mere cover for corrupt and hypocritical votes." It is perhaps too much to hope for the early abolition of anything which has unhappily become so associated with democratic traditions ; but we must trust that the Coming Democracy will eventually come to the belief, that a system which undermines the moral responsibility of voting, and encourages cowardice and trickery ; which increases the temptations to corruption and diminishes the means of detection ; can on the whole not be favour- able to the true welfare of the people. But meanwhile the Democracy may diminish this The House of Commons. 113 corruption by increasing the number of working men who come forward for the position of Members of Par- liament. For necessarily they will not have so much money to spend : and, necessarily also, they will have to fight large constituencies ; for only where there is a majority of their own class, will they have any chance of success. Thus such constituencies will learn the habit of economical elections ; and also the knowledge of the obstacles raised by corruption, will cause such an indig- nation as must result in the creation of a better public feeling on the subject. When working men thoroughly realise that money keeps their class out of Parliament, they will soon find means to rob the creature of its sting. And the Democracy will also operate in this direction, by rendering the position of a Member of Parliament less desired by those who now spend most money to obtain it. It may be very well to lay the odium of bribes upon those who receive them, and no doubt these are seriously guilty, but after all most of the blame belongs to those who give them. And these are chiefly those who seek the position, not that they may serve their country, but that they may gratify their ambition ; they are willing to pay a good sum for the coveted suffix, because they believe that it will improve their social rank and increase their social pleasures. But this position will be shorn of many of these attractions, when it is shared by a goodly number of working men. The simple fact of being a Member of Parhanient will not then act as a social Open-Sesame : probably it does not so act now, but it is believed to do, and that is equivalent. But even this belief will not endure I 114 The Coming Democracy. long after it is realised that a man with such a title, ir.ay as likely as not be a stone-mason, or a miner, or a spinner. Whether on the whole for good or evil, it seems likely that under the Democracy the money value of the letters M.P. must decidedly fall. That value depends chiefly upon the two desires, of gaining social distinction, and of serving selfish ends. The first of these will almost cease to operate ; and the position of Member of Parliament would scarcely have any money value left at all were it not for the second. This however will unhappily remain ; since a supreme Legislature must always be a tempting instrument for speculators, and it will become more hopeful for mani- pulation as it is more composed of poorer members. It may seem hard to have to say this, but we must not shut our eyes to the manifest lessons of every-day life, one of which is that a man who is in want of money is more likely to take a bri])e than one who is not. It is not meant, of course, that poor men are sure to do this, or even that any large number of them would do it ; but we must consider general tendencies, and that is no doubt true in a certain degree of the taking of bribes, - which the Northern Farmer says of burglary and theft, " Tisn't them as 'as munny, as breaks into 'ouses or steals. Them as 'as coats to their backs au' taiikes their regular meals." The Democracy thus may do good i n so far as it may reduce the cost of elections, by diminishing one of the chief motives to spend money ; but we cannot overlook the fact that in such a change there lies a very great danger, perhaps the greatest of all to the welfare, and even to the existence, of the future Democracy. This The House of Commons. 115 danger is that in getting away from the Charybdis of social ambition, we may run upon the Scylla of social degradation. It will be well to look carefully at this danger, as seamen study the rocks when they are going to navigate a sea which is new to them. "Will the Democracy lower the quality of our Mem- bers of Parliament ? Before we can get at an answer, we must consider what is meant in such a case by qua- lity. It may have two meanings, an inward and an outward ; the one measured by money, and the other by worth. As to the first, there can be little doubt that tlie Democracy will lower the quality of Members of Parliament. Hitherto to get into Parliament has been the natural aim of an ambitious rich man ; when he has made a large fortune in business or speculation, or at the bar, he has naturally ' thought ' of himself, or been suggested by his friends, as a suitable candidate for his native town, or some other which could be induced to accept him. We can scarcely watch what is called, but often not correctly, a successful business career ; we can scarcely open what is called, and generally very correctly indeed, an ordinary novel, without meeting with this tendency. It seems almost to be a matter of course for ambitious Englishmen, when they become rich, to go to Parliament, as it is said that good New Yorkers when they die go to Paris. As every man makes a heaven of that which he desires most, and as the House of Commons seems to have been for a long time past, the "little heaven below " of such men, we may well ask what there has been about it so very desirable. Has it been because it is a sphere of patriotism ? It would sound sarcastic to suggest that. Or because it is a position of I 2 ii6 The Coming Democracy. power ? Perhaps that has had something to do with it, for power is always sweet ; but the love of power of this sort is rather an infirmity of noble minds, so that this cannot be the chief motive. That must be sought in the love of glory ; the glory as well of being a legislator, as of belonging to a most agreeable club and possessing a most coveted distinction. Under the Coming Democracy we may expect to lose such men, for they will depart with the motive that brought them; and that, as we have seen, must in a great degree vanish. In their places, we shall have a considerable number of working men, and it may be said that these will give such a tone to the whole, that the Assembly will be forsaken by gentlemen generally. Thence may Cassandra develop her melancholy pro- phecies of the future House of Commons, lamenting over it as given up to intriguing speculators and rowdy revolutionists. But are such prophecies likely to be fufiUed ? Need the loss of the ambitious rich be like the stab of Brutus, after which there is nothing left but to fall like Csesar ? Even though Parliament be driven from the halls of mere wealth, surely the men of true worth will stand by it, as the faithful Ittai, who said to the retreating David : " Surely in what place my lord the King shall be, whether in death or life, even there also will thy servant be." Yet it must be acknowledged that a House of Com- mons given up entirely, or even chiefly, to working men, and members of a similar class, would be in a very bad plight indeed. The art of government is the most difficult of all the arts that humanity has to learn, for it has scarcely The House of Commons. 117 any rules, and the considerations to be taken into account, in each matter, are ahnost infinite in number and variety. Such an art requires not only an experienced training but also a disciplined mind ; and an aged bumpkin may almost as readily become a trapezist, as an uneducated labourer or mere business-man, a statesman. 'No nation in its senses will trust the manas;ement of its affairs to the ignorant and inexperienced, any more than men who are not mad, will let a chance passenger in a ship become the pilot in a storm, or a chance straggler in a street the doctor in a sickness. Hence it follows that the world never has seen, nor ever will see within any period worth considering, a democratic government in the strict sense of the term, that is, a government of the many by the many. All governments are by a few, the only difference consisting in the power by which these few are chosen, and which they serve. A despotism must have its ministers, an oligarchy its ofi&cers, and a democracy its leaders; and jDerhaps between the absolutest despotism and the widest democracy, there will be no difference in the number of those to whom the conduct of affairs is actually committed. It may happen to a Democracy, as Thucydides said of that under Pericles, that "it was called a Democracy, but it was in reality the rule of one man." But such can only be a rare exception of that genius which follows no laws ; for, as a rule, even a tyranny must generally depend upon more than one. Jupiter, in fact, was not an abso- lute monarch, being sometimes pulled to the side of tlie Greeks by Athene, and sometimes to that of the Trojans by Apollo. Pharaoh had his Joseph, and David his "sons of Zeruiah," and Darius his "presidents, and ii8 The Coming Democracy, princes and counsellors ; " in Sparta the power of the Kings was qualified by that of the Ephors, and in Eome that of the Consuls by that of the Tribunes ; in Germany the Emperors were influenced by the Electors, and in France the Kings by the Mayors of the Palace ; the Doges of Venice and Genoa were held in check Ijy their Grand Councils, as are the monarchs of modern times by their ministers and privy councillors. So likewise there has never been a Democracy without its leaders, from the days of Athens with its Cleisthenes, and Pericles, and Cleon, each trying to strengthen himself by ostracising his rivals ; down to our own days, of the Eepublics of South America with their fighting Presidents, and of that of North America with its political wire-pullers and party organisers. Our own Constitution has shown the same tendency ; for along with democratic development, there has grown up that most indefinable, and yet most real, institution which we call " The Cabinet." It was only after 1688 that ministers began to sit together at all ; for previously each stood merely in independent rela- tionship to the sovereign, as is the case at present in the German Government. And it is curious to observe that in this respect the nearest approach to the aristo- cratic governments of Europe is made by the democratic government of the United States of America ; in which the President, who is for his time as irremovable as a monarch, combines in himself the offices of king and prime-minister, and holds his ministers simply in direct and individual relationship to hunself. As General Grant, in the last book of his travels, says of himself wliilst he was President of the States : " I never allowed the Cabinet to interfere when my mind was made up." The House of Commons. 119 Another fact worth remarking is that in this, which is usually considered the model republican constitution of the world, the chief power over the executive, and in the State generally, is wielded by the Upper House. When in England the ministers stood in this rela- tion to the Crown, there could be nothing like that which we call "The Ministry;" for ministers only began to meet together as such, and to be consolidated into a united body, under the House of Brunswick, the uncertainty of whose position facilitated the process. Thus the personal action of the monarch, which for- merly was the only moving power, has gradually been so withdrawn that no bill has been vetoed since the Scotch Militia Bill of Queen Anne ; and no Ministry has been dismissed simply by the sovereign since 1834, the royal power in this respect being limited to its influence over ministers. But the Cabinet has not only taken from the Crown, but also from the Houses of Parliament, to which ministers formerly owed direct accountability, and by which an influence was exercised over them that is now so much weaker inasmuch as it has become chiefly collective. Thus whilst, with democratic development, power has been spreading widely amongst the people, authority has been accumulating in the hands of a little managing committee, which is considered so informal that it does not even keep any official records of its proceedings. So it seems to be a law of Nature, that however we vary our political mechanism, every form of government must eventually resolve itself into one of an aristocracy, of one sort or other ; and it is only well with a nation when this is an aristocracy in the literal sense of the word. I20 The Coming Democracy, The question, then, which we have to ask ourselves is, whether, after such a change in the composition of the House of Commons as has been considered probable, the best men will give themselves to politics, and also come to the top. And first as to the upper classes ; it must be remem- bered that although they are not necessarily the " best," yet it is chiefly to them that we must look for a supply of such an aristocracy as we want. For though there are many exceptions, still, as a general rule, the three neces- sary qualifications, besides talent and will, are train- ing, leisure, and independence ; and these qualifications are of course chiefly to be found in the upper classes ; and amongst these, chiefly in the land-owning class. Now there is one reason which will tend to hold this class to politics, even if the attractions of social pleasure and patriotic ambition should fail ; and that lies in the neces- sity which keeps them, more than any other class, tied to the existence, and therefore bound up in the prosperity, of the country. They cannot leave their land ; and as land is the ultimate basis of the existence of every na- tion, and as there can be no law of importance which does not affect the welfare of the people, so there can be none which will not tell upon the value of the land. There- fore those owning this land must be led by self-interest alone, if by no higher motive, to resolve to take a con- stant interest in legislation, and to wish to exercise a considerable influence upon it. The case of the United States, where not taking part in politics is too often a necessary condition of respectability, will not hold as a warning to us ; for in that country neither is there any class correspondmg to that of our landed gentry, nor are The House of Commons. 121 there any traditions like those which chiefly give the tone to our national life. England has hitherto developed its own personality, and it seems likely to continue doing so. But it may be said that, as democratic tastes and habits extend, members of such classes will not be chosen by constituencies. This idea, however, though at first plausible, seems to have no warrant in experience, which rather points in the opposite direction. For, ex- cept in temporary periods of class irritation, which are sure to become less frequent as class grievances become removed, the general tendency of Democracies is to give themselves too much into the hands of politicians of the upper classes, if they personally take their fancy. This tendency has, indeed, been the ruin of many Democracies, wliich have thus put riders on their backs who at last made themselves masters. Though in England we may be safe from such an extreme, we can observe this ten- dency in the readiness with which popular constituencies welcome such candidates ; which is an assurance that, if otherwise equal, they will on this account be under no disadvantage, wherever they enter the struggle. It is thought, however, that they will be deterred, because the position of a Member of Parliament, besides having many of its attractions taken away, will also have many of its unpleasantnesses increased. Amongst these must be considered the liability to dictation. We hear much of the importation of " caucuses," and other American political productions, but these, like most foreign growths, are little likely to flourish in a strange soil. It may be easy to plan arrangements according to which wards are to be governed by committees, and these ward-committees by district-committees, and these 122 The Coming Democracy. district-committees by a central-committee, which will thus be able to act upon the Member with the impetus of the whole electoral influence : but it will not be easy to make such plans work. There is no use for the best- designed coat which will not go upon the back ; and plans may have the fatal fault of being too perfect, and so not adapted to actual circumstances. Such a caucus-system might act if every one adopted one side or the other ; but it becomes invalidated when, as with us, a number sufficient to turn the scales, either will in the end take no part at all, or, at any rate, will before- hand ally itself with no party. It is usual to ascribe this abstention to ignorance or corruption, and so to believe that it will disappear before increasing knowledge and purity, but the cause lies much more in the natural dis- position of the people, and that will remain the same. For Englishmen are not by nature eager partisans : they are too phlegmatic and too individual; seldom getting much excited about anything, and always fond of forming their own opinions, and of acting upon them. So it is likely that in most constituencies there will always remain voters enough to turn the elections, who will not be subject to the organisation of any party, however perfect that may be. But in this case such organisations must decline in importance, for they will lack the prestige of supremacy. In many constituen- cies which seem to be subject to these organisations, circumstances often arise in which, if a candidate of the right sort boldly appeals to the outsiders, he will win. But a power held by sucli an uncertain tenure can never be very formidable, if properly bearded ; and so it seems most likely that such organisations, instead of The House of Commons. 123 growing to the dimensions with which we are threat- ened, and becoming general dictators, will sink to their proper position of special advisers. Most Englishmen are too fond of their own independence, to wish to see that of their Eepresentatives destroyed. In considering the probable future of institutions bor- rowed from other countries, we must always take into consideration the effects of the conditions into which they are brought, as well as of those from which tliey come. Nations are much more influenced by customs than by arguments ; and even if they adopt a new insti- tution, they are sure to force it into the mould of an old habit. It has always been the custom in England for Members to be regarded as personal representatives, and against such a custom it will be vain to try to turn them into mere deleoates. The danger of such a change is too small to be deterring ; and even if the change was temporarily effected, its duration would be too short to have serious permanent effects. However, it may be said that even if the best men are willing to give themselves to politics, and get elected, they will not have much chance of being at the top, because the classes which will rule under a Democracy will choose leaders of their own sort. But it is not clear that the homceopathic motto of swiilia similibus holds good in politics ; on the contrary, the poetic axiom, of distance lending enchantment to the view, seems nearer the truth. For the masses are not a body but a crowd : they con- sist of many classes and sections, between which there are multitudinous rivalries; and these will grow more pronounced as the Democracy comes uppermost, since quarrelling begins when the spoil has to be divided. It is 124 The Coming Democracy. absurd to talk as if working men are bound together in a mystic brotherhood : they may seem thus united when they all want to oust a common rival, but their divisions will show themselves as soon as they, in turn, become masters ; just as Eomau Catholics count for Liberals when they want freedom for themselves, but are found to be something very different when they possess power over others. Wlienever, as is pretty much the case now, those questions are settled which unite the working classes, then those which divide them will come to the front, and therefore it is these last which will chiefly occupy the attention of the Coming Democracy. And let it not be forgotten that working men differ strongly amongst each other about constitutional questions. It is customary to think of them as being generally in favour of great radical changes ; but this is because, so far, only the most forward have made themselves heard. When the Democracy becomes fully developed, the real masses will come to the front, and then there will be found amongst them the same political differences with which we are familiar in all other classes. When manu- facturers had not votes, they were thought to be all Liberals, but they turned out to belong to different parties ; and so it will be with the operatives. Hence the Conservative Working-]\Ian, who was thought to be a myth, is already found to be a reality. Because men want certain changes for themselves, it does not follow that they are in favour of change generally. Since work- ing-class leaders will be sure to be identified with some particular class or section, the people will not be long before they utter, concerning such leaders, the cry that " our governors are naught," which is the certain har- The House of Commons. 125 binger of change ; and then they will be disposed to look up to those whose position makes them most likely, and best able, to act fairly towards all. So it will pro- bably happen that under the Democracy there will eventually be an increased, instead of a diminished, dis- position to follow political leaders chosen from the upper classes. If such leaders do not offer themselves, then of course others must be taken up with ; but if they are there, they will have the preference. But even if members of the upper classes were elected, and became accepted as leaders, it is thought that they could not long remain such because Demo- cracies are so fickle ; as has been repeatedly shown from the days of Miltiades to our own. One reason, how- ever, why this fickleness appears so great, is that Demo- cracies are always measured by standards which do not fairly apply to them. Historians always judge of poli- tical steadfastness by the traditional tests of fidelity to persons or parties ; but there is another test more reliable than these, and this is that of adherence to the pursuit of objects. As steamers navigating the river Danube first take on board one pilot and then another, so the Democracy, in making for its goal, may accept the guidance of various leaders in successson. The English Democracy has never yet become properly partisan ; it has never yet learned the middle-class axiom that political honesty means sticking to your party whether right or wrong — or rather, never even thinking about that, but always taking it for granted that your party must be right and the other wrong. But the Demo- cracy has always been more or less willing to follow one leader as long as he led towards what they wished, and 126 The Coming Democracy, then to leave him when he turned in another direction. If, then, it is looked at in the light of objects rather than in that of parties, the past course of the Democracy will seem to have been fairly steady. Of course the mob must be always uncertain, as the very name implies ; there were not many days between " Hosanna " and " Crucify Him ;" there were not many hours between the cry to put up a statue to Brutus, and that to burn his house down. But if civilisation is to be worth any- thing, it must help to remedy such a fault ; for excit- ability and gulliljility are the especial weaknesses of the ignorant. Indeed, this process seems to have been making considerable progress ; and there is every reason to expect that the masses will improve in steadiness, as they become better educated, and more accustomed to political procedure. In any case, those who would be leaders will not have so much reason to complain of fickleness, if they will look more at objects and less at parties. But if power is gained, and not lost by fickleness, it may be said that it cannot be retained except by truck- ling to the multitude. Here, indeed, is a great danger ; for as Plato makes Socrates say, " It is hard for a man to hold out against a torrent of censure and applause, and so to avoid being swept away down the stream, wherever it may lead, until he is brought to adopt the language of the multitude as to what is honourable and dishonour- able, and to imitate all their practices and to Ijecome their very counterpart." And we must confess with the same wise writer, that the only real escape from this danger is, that leaders " must be constrained to lift up the eye of the soul, and fix it upon that which gives The House of Commons. 127 light to all things ; and having surveyed the essence of good, they must take it as a pattern, to be copied in the work of regulating their country, and their fellow- citizens, and themselves." For it must be understood that in speaking of the probable leaders of the Coining Democracy, we are not including those who now follow politics merely for their own personal pleasure ; such should henceforth obey the Epicurean motto, " Let not the wise man meddle with politics." Neither are we thinking of those whose only motive is personal ambi- tion ; such should henceforth take to heart Wolsey's warning, doubly needed now, to fling away the sin by which the angels fell. Let him abandon all such feel- ings who would enter the portals of the Coming Demo- cracy, But the future is hopeful enough for him whose only wish is to serve his country. The opportunities for such a man will be greater, since a Democracy is sure to get itself more frequently into a position requiring his help, or into an alarm from which his voice can recall it, as Pericles revived the Athenians by explaining an eclipse of the sun. At the worst, he will have the satisfaction of feel- ing that he has helped to save his country ; for no State, from Athens to the France of 1870, has fallen by the violence of the poor and ignorant who attacked, unless this was helped by the cowardice of the rich and edu- cated who retreated. Even should he be overwhelmed in some struggle, he may say, witli Horatius, " How can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers. And the temjiles of his gods ? " 128 The Coming Democracy. For he cannot be without his reward, who has obeyed the law that no man may consider himself private where the preservation of liberty is concerned. As Cicero truly says that " Our country did not beget and educate us with the expectation of receiving no support, as I may call it, from us ; nor for the purpose of consulting nothing but our convenience, to supply us with a secure refuge for idleness and a tranquil spot for rest ; but the rather with a view of turning to her own advantage the nobler portion of our genius, heart, and counsel ; giving us back for our private service only what she can spare ■from the public interest." But it cannot be believed that success even here will be wanting to those who thus try to do their duty. They may hear harsh words, but such language would not be stronger than that which was customary amongst the most cultivated in the days of Pope and Dryden, to say nothing of Milton : they may meet with ingrati- tude ; but gratitude, which mere ambition has no right to expect, will come at last to those who spend themselves from pure motives. Humanity, which is the highest manifestation of Nature, ultimately " Never did betray The heart that loved her." Englishmen have never been wanting in due appre- ciation of good service, and it is not likely that there will ever be wantmg Englishmen to give such service. So there is sufficient reason to expect, that whilst it gradu- ally loses the various sorts of worldly politicians, and receives in their place a larger proportion of working- class members, the House of Commons will not run The House of Commons. 129 short of worthy and capable men, able to lead it for- ward in the path which it has thus far so successfully followed. But there must be no mistake about it, that those who would be such leaders in the future, will have to be men, whatever their social rank or political position, who can really lead. Democracies always love strength : so much so, indeed, that they will often, for the sake of it, put up with despotism ; even that of a Cambridge- shire brewer, or a Corsican adventurer. No nation is more ready than the English to admire manliness, or to despise men waiting upon political providence ; and those misread the signs of the times who suppose that the people wish, in politics, the law reversing according to which, as Dundreary explained, ' a dog wags its tail because the dog is stronger than the tail.' Men will be wanted who can do more than sit, like the flies, on the wheel of public opinion, flattering themselves that they are raising the dust ; and the Coming Democracy will, like all Democracies, from somewhere or other find leaders who can lead, and not merely follow. And here, too, it may be well to protest against the common assumption that a Democracy means the rule of the mere majority, and that therefore its decisions are determined, as was the assessment of the old poll-tax, simply by the counting of heads. What it really means is the rule of public opinion, in the formation of which all have an influence and in the carrying out of whicli all have a share. By far the most important of these two processes is that of formation, as accumulating steam is more important than turning the tap of the engine. In K 130 The Coming Democracy. this process mere numbers go for little, as happily no hmnan contrivance can annul the divine law by which one wise man counts for more, in the destiny of the , world, than any multitude of fools. Now if statesmen are to be leaders, and not mere clerks, they must lead in this process of the formation of public opinion as well as, indeed more imperatively than, in that of the legislation embodying its results. It may be that in trying to form a right public opinion for the future, they will have to stand almost alone against the wrong public opinion of the present ; but it is just the ability to do this which proves men fitted to be leaders, and ultimately makes them such. Unless we bear in mind that, in influence over men, strength of character always counts for more than correctness of judgment, we must find much past history a puzzle, and many present careers a mystery. The royal mind is always braced by difficulties, and hence it generally beats them, but in defeat it never loses its royalty ; " Aid Cccsar, aut nullus," is its unchanging motto. And to such a mind the masses of the people will always find their way, however they may be fenced round with party tickets, and ballot boxes, and all the other political furniture. And the more democratic the Constitution, the more certain is this to happen ; for the Democracy allows a freer play to human nature, whose ideal is always that of the Eomans in their battles, when — " Those lefore cried forward. whilst, if true of any, it was only — And those behind cried back." The House of Commons. 131 And it is natural for Democracies not only to admire such leaders but also to require them ; for the Constitu- tion compels the people to form opinions for themselves, or else to be guilty of acting without any. This task is the hardest which is thrown upon the people, and therefore they are ready to give the highest rewards to those who will most help them with it. But duty, no less than ambition, calls to this all who would profess to be leaders ; for how can the country keep in the right way, if those who are best able, will not help the masses, into whose hands the control has been given, to find out which this is ? And not only is the welfare of the country at stake, but also the supremacy of the House of Commons : for where the sceptre is, there is power ; and this sceptre will always be unto those who are the real leaders of the people; and these will always be those who help them most in their greatest need, which is the formation of correct opinions. So the statesman is recreant to his country, and unworthy of the name, who, when any important question is raised upon which an opinion must be formed by the people, says to them, " I will not tell you what you should think, but I will wait until you tell me what you do think, and then I will help to carry out your wishes." The Democracy will soon learn to laugh at such men ; for it requires its leaders to be, if not as ^olus who gave the winds, yet as Ulysses who was to control them, and not merely as his silly comrades wlio let them out of the bag. The Coming Democracy will have no fancy for commanders who stand aside during the fight, and only come in to distribute the spoil. So, if the chiefs of the parties, be they lords or K 2 132 The Coming Democracy. labourers, are only to be leaders of this sort, it is certain that the centre of political gravity must be sliifted away from the House of Commons ; and that therefore this House must decline in power and charac- ter. But there is reason to believe that under the Coming Democracy, leaders of the right character will be found within the House ; and that these will exercise their proper influence, and occupy their proper position. Of course it is true of the House of Commons, as of everything else, that change is the law of life ; Ijut no good can come to this, or any other part of our Consti- tution, from disparaging comparisons with the past or melancholy forebodings of the future. In the political breast, at any rate, hope should spring eternal; and those are the truest friends to the ship of State, whose patriotism is not so much a lamp in the stern, shining on the track behind, as one in the prow, lighting up that which has still to be traversed. It seems then, as a conclusion of the whole matter, that there is no reason to expect, under the Coming Democracy, any great Constitutional changes. Additional justification for tliis belief is to be found in two simple facts. The first of these is that such changes are not likely to be found necessary. After allowing the fullest mean- ing to the term Democracy, and the fullest energy to the thing itself, we can see no reason why the democratic spirit should not act as well through the Constitution which we now have as through any other. If we apply the three democratic tests, namely, that public opinion shall be free in its formation, dominant in its influence, and quick in its operation, we find that no form of Con- The House of Commons. 133 stitution has stood these tests better than our own. It is true that many others supposed to be better have been planned, and some have been tried, but not one has proved itself equally good. It is not a question, it must be borne in mind, what form of Constitution is abso- lutely best for a nation, for that would open much wider issues ; but we are narrowed down to the assumption that the Democratic spirit is, whether for good or evil, going to rule, and we have only to ask ourselves, what form of Constitution will best serve that spirit. And the answer is, that we can find none better for this purpose than our present one. Such an answer can be amply justified by appeals not only to the past, but also to the present. Though having its origin in monarchic times, this Constitution was easily reconciled wath the many subsequent aristocratic changes, and has equally easily adapted itself to the democratic developments of more recent times. Any extensions possible in the future, cannot be as great as those wliich have already occurred, and from which the Constitution has emerged, not merely living, but even stronger: no conceivable democratic development, at least none coming within the bounds of consideration, can have conditions as widely different from ours as ours are different from those of the times of the Tudors, to go no further back. So the Constitution which has so well served the greater, may be expected to do for the less. Also, there is no Constitution now working in the civilised world which is found as well adapted to the requisites of the democratic spirit. Some may have forms and names which are usually more associated with Democracy, but there is not one which so successfully serves its practical needs. 134 The Coming Democracy. The second of these facts is, that the English nation is • never likely to make radical constitutional changes, of the sort here contemplated, unless they are found prac- tically necessary. This fact is requisite to justify the belief that such changes are unlikely, for unnecessary changes of this sort have been often made by all kinds of nations, in all kmds of times. As the ancient oracles, in framing their answers, took into account the disposi- tions of those to whom they were spoken ; so in anticipa- ting the effects of political changes, we must not over- look the character of the nation which is making them. To some nations logical, or perhaps it might be more correctly called artistic, consistency seems almost a necessity; everything must be in harmony with some idea, so that if that idea is changed, all has to go with it. They are like a man who, wishing to enlarge some room, or throw out some wing, will pull down the whole house, and begin building again, rather than have the unity of his plan violated. But this is not at all the character of the English people, no matter by what class we judge. They have the greatest unwillingness to do away with anything old, and hence their Constitution is apt to become like their country-houses : here a room has been added, and there another rebuilt ; here a tower which was wanted has been put up, and there a wall which was not wanted has been pulled down ; so that probably the whole may be according to no rules of taste, yet generally it affords more convenience and comfort, and even beauty, than any strict conformity could secure. Napoleon was on one side completely wrong, as the sacrifices we were then making to beat him proved, when he called us a nation of shopkeepers ; The House of Commons". 135 but on another side he was quite right, for politically we always show a shopkeeper's unwillingness to make changes unless they are necessary, or likely to pay. Change for the sake of change has no fascination for the political mind of England, as it can have none for the commercial mind of any nation; sensible shopkeepers do not throw out new windows, or pull down old pre- mises, merely to conform to some ideal of what a shop should be, but only because they are compelled, or expect a sufficient increase of business to pay for the outlay. Similarly sensible nations do not destroy old institutions except they stand in the way of new requirements. This has always been the policy of the English people. No great constitutional change has ever been made here except under the belief that it was necessary. It may be true that this belief has sometimes been wrong, but that cannot affect the disposition, which has always remained the same ; both in respect to creation and destruction, or rather to growth and decay, for new institutions have chiefly sprung to life from necessity, as old ones have fallen to decay from inutility. The British Constitution has not been built but has grown ; it was not, like Gothic cathedrals, put together after some plan, but rather like their prototype, the stately forest, was gradually and naturally developed. In politics, as in every other region of action, the best work is silent ; the most lasting is the least premeditated. And this is why the British Constitution has been so durable and is so safe ; for as no part was added to carry out any plan, so none will be taken away to conform to any theory. But it may be said that this Constitution has never 136 The Coming Democracy. been subject to such a control of the masses as it will be with the Coming Democracy ; and that as we go lower, the natural disposition alters in this respect, so that the past conduct of certain classes is not a sure indication of the probable future conduct of other classes. There is some truth in tliis objection, for it is undoubtedly true that the lower we go in the social scale, the greater becomes the proportionate influence of mere ideals. The working classes, with all their apparent hardness and practicalness, are much more liable to be led away by sentimental enthusiasms than are those above them. Hence politicians so often find themselves at fault in dealing with these classes ; they appeal to them with ' bread-and-butter ' arguments, thinking that these are what they chiefly care for, and suddenly they find their arguments disregarded and themselves dismissed. Then they cry out about other people's fickleness, when they should blame their own short-sightedness ; the voice of the charmer may not be at fault, for it may have uttered the charms never so wisely, but the charms themselves may have been wrong. They certainly will be often found so, unless they include frequent appeals to imagi- nation and enthusiasm. Thus the truth that extremes often meet, is curiously illustrated in the fact that, so far as cultivation and cleverness are concerned, those who consider themselves to be the first, and those who are generally considered to be the last, are just the two classes which agree in being most influenced by theoretic ideals and least by practical circumstances. So it has always been the case that " Messieurs les Ideologues " have found their greatest admirers and nearest fellows amongst the indiscriminating masses ; for philosophers The House of Commons, 137 and artisans are alike in having generally little of that experience which modifies the theorisings of other people. Will there not be a constitutional danger when the supreme power is more largely in the hands of those most subject to this tendency ? There may be, of course ; but probability seems against it, for such a tendency requires enthusiasm to set it to work, and such an enthu- siasm is more likely to be roused in favour of the present Constitution than against it. Unless some other Consti- tution is offered which captivates the popular fancy, and that seems unlikely, for all possible ones have been tried ; and unless such an offer is made at a time when the present Constitution is felt to be most oppressive, and that seems impossible, for it would be opposed to its nature ; there is no likelihood but that popular sympathy, if roused at all, would take the side of that which has been so long associated with the national habits and history. At any rate, there is little probability of enthusiasm against the present Constitution being roused sufUciently to displace it. For nations, like individuals, may be divided into the two great classes, of those who think most of the future, and those who thmk most of the past ; the first class, having little reverence and much hope, is always eagrer for change ; whilst the second, looking back with admiration and forward with doubt, will not make important changes unless compelled. The English nation belongs to this latter class, and so its temperament may be taken as a good guide to its conduct : just as from a man's disposition, we can tell to which political party he will lean if left free from external influences. Therefore, whilst granting that the masses are most 138 The Coming Democracy. subject to theoretic enthusiasm, we cannot think that this tendency will be any source of danger to the Consti- tution as a whole, because it will be held in check by the national temperament ; and also by the natural tendency of enthusiasm to rise up in favour of that Constitution ; but still more by the fact that there will be no practical necessity for much change. Although the gathering ground may be increased, the English nation will not care, for the sake of artistic proportion, to pull up the pipes so long as they are found large enough to convey the waters of public opinion to turn the mill-wheel of political action. If advised to make such a radical change, they will be sure to ask in what important democratic requir- ment the British Constitution must necessarily fail ; and to such a question no answer is likely to be forthcoming, for no form of government, yet tried, has been found to stand so well even the democratic tests. A democratic regime is not so dangerous to any par- ticular part of the Constitution, as to the Democracy itself For all Democracies, to be real and continuous, must work by the method of representation ; and where masses are concerned, this is liable to become a mere mechanism for giving to the will of the few the impetus derived from the fictitious approval of the many. Multitudes are apt, like sheep, to follow some bell-wether ; and are certain, unless they take care, to lose their power in the arrangements professedly estab- lished for its exercise. So the Coming Democracy will have to be very jealous in resisting over-organisation, and in guarding the free action of individual opinion ; or it will find that, in snatching at the shadow of what seemed a better form of representation, it has dropped the solid meat of the principle itself. ( 139 ) PAET II. SOCIAL POLITICS. IKTEODUCTION. The prospect undergoes a change when we come to Social as opposed to, or at any rate as separate from, Constitutional politics ; for, though the Coming Democracy will shrink from meddling with the Consti- tution as a whole, it will not hesitate about handling separate institutions existing within it. For here the theorising enthusiasm which is one of the tendencies of Democracies will find suitable scope. The Constitution- itself is too large and vague : there is a mysterious feeling that to disturb any principal part might bring the whole to the ground, and that afterwards there would be some sort of a deluge ; so that most Englishmen have a dread, all the stronger because more or less inexplicable, of interfering much there. But the mood is changed when smaller matters, which are more or less complete in themselves, and seem likely to have little effect upon others, are in question. Then nervousness gives way to confidence, and an outlet is found for that desire to set things right which is very strong and growing amongst the masses of the people. 140 The Coming Democracy. For although there may not be much political discon- tent in the nation, there is a great deal of social dissatis- faction, and this is steadily increasing. It does not chiefly depend upon the fact that trade has been bad during the last few years, nor will it be dissipated by a return of prosperity ; for those who have much intimate acquaint- ance with workingf-men, know that there is manifesting itself very widely amongst the most intelligent of them, a disposition to doubt whether, even in good times, this is socially the best possible of worlds. A generation or so ago a concurrence of circumstances — mechanical and scientific discoveries, and legal relaxations, amongst the number — gave the nation a great fillip of hope. Every- body imagined that now at last we were on the right road : prosperity was to bless us all ; there was to be no more complaining in our streets, but Free Trade and Eeform Bills, and manufactures and newspapers, were to make us all happy ever afterwards. We have got now pretty w^ell everything we then hoped for, except the happiness itself : our towns are larger than was even then dreamt of ; our manufactures greater ; our news- papers better and cheaper ; but still, somehow, we do not feel much the happier. There is an uneasy feeling gene- rally prevalent, especially amongst the masses, that even yet we are not on the right track, but shall have to strike another. Men are asking themselves, what is the good of towns being larger, if the people in them are no happier ; or of manufactures being greater, if those who work them get little more benefit ; or of newspapers being cheaper, if they only tell of more trouble and disturbance. The economic bubble, whose brilliant hues so fascinated our fathers, has burst; Social Politics. 141 and therefore there is a feeling of disappointment, very general, though perhaps seldom expressed. But there is something else besides this, at any rate amongst the masses ; and that is a belief that in these respects the world may be better managed. This belief may have, and very probably has, no more foundation than all the other beliefs of the same sort which have preceded it : it may be only one more theory of the summum honum, ; one more dream of the El Dorado ; one more " baseless fabric of a vision ; " but it exists nevertheless, and is growing, so that it must influence the conduct of the Coming Democracy just as much as if it were true. That Democracy is young, and youth is credulous and hopeful ; ready to act upon the fancies of the present as if they were facts, and to reject the beliefs of the past as if they were fancies. Not only do men individually, and generations collectively, each come forward with a more or less fresh solution of the Sphinx riddle of life ; but each new stratum of society, as it rises to the top, is filled with the belief that at last the problem is going to be worked out. It may be that all these beliefs will turn out to be only of such stuff as dreams are made of, but they will be none the less powerful for the time. They must spend themselves in action, and in so doing they may cause much mischief. But whether it be mischief or not, a considerable effect must be produced, and it is with this that we are now concerned. This effect will, of course, be chiefly felt in that direc- tion in which the masses are chiefly discontented, and hopeful. Tor discontent, unless extreme enough to be unbearable, is not of itself enough ; but there must, in addition, be hope, of the sort which is fired by imagina- 142 The Coming Democracy. tion. Nobody is exactly contented with present political arrangements, but that imaginative hope which led men some time since to believe that everything could be put right by increasing the number of voters, or by alter- ing the method of voting, has spent itself. The faith in these nostrums, once so high as to encompass all, has now fallen so low that the working classes are above it. Political Eeform is in this sense played out. But the case is different with Social Eeform. That not only comes home most nearly to all of us, but here also the field is comparatively untrodden ; there are few blundering footsteps to warn or discourage, whilst there are many seeming possibilities to allure and inspire. Here then we are likely to find that the active ardour of the Coming Democracy will first expend itself. But before we can judge of the probable effects of this movement, we must consider what are the social condi- tions which it can possibly influence. We find that social conditions may be divided into three classes. The first consists of those which depend upon fixed causes, and which are therefore themselves fixed ; as, for example, the division found, under every form of govern- ment, in every land and age, into those who are kept by their own work, and those who are kept by the work of others, living or dead. The spirit of Democracy has often breathed against this division, and does so yet : and, undoubtedly, the proportions of these two sets may vary considerably; both in different countries, as in England and the United States now ; and in the same country at different times, as in the France of Louis XIV. and that of to-day; but the division itself is always Social Politics. 143 found. If it does not correspond to one of drones and bees, as Shelley puts it, " The seed ye sow another reaps ; The wealth ye find another keeps ; \ The robes ye weave, another wears ; The arms ye forge, another bears : " at any rate, it seems to be a law of Nature that those who work, in the sense of manual toil, shall not only keep those who think, but shall also obey them. Wlien we reflect that they have likewise to keep them in a much better way than that in which they can keep them- selves — as the man who superintends bricks being carried is always paid more than the man who carries them — we cannot wonder that the spirit of Democracy has often broken out against this division and tried to abolish it. The judges, in condemning Lavoisier, remarked, " Noits n'avons plus hesoin de savants ; " but the savants, in one form or other, have always remained, and always will, and also will have to be supported by the toil of others. As to how many merely idle people can be kept, that depends much more upon the circumstances of a nation than upon any form of government, but there will always be some everywhere ; and the principle of this division, though not the extent of it, may illustrate the existence of a large number of social conditions which depend upon fixed causes, and which, therefore, are beyond our scope in considering the probable effects of the Coming Democracy. The second class of social conditions consist of those depending upon causes which, though not fixed, are non-political, and, therefore, do not come under con- sideration. Thus there can be no doubt that the social 144 The Coming Democracy. condition of England has been, and is being, largely affected by the development of manufacturing industry ; by emigration, by railways, and by many other similar causes which cannot be said, in any direct sense, to have a political character, and upon which the Coming Demo- cracy is not likely to exercise much influence. For it is not easy to see how any re-arrangements of political power can refill old coal-beds, or reveal new colonies : the steam-engine was invented under a monarchy ; and it is more than likely that railways, and spinning-mules, and power-looms, and steamboats, and all the other ministers of manufacturing and commercial prosperity, would in due time have come to light even if a Charles I. or a Henry VIII. had been sitting upon the throne. We are thus reduced to the third class of social con- ditions, which consists of those upon which political arrangements can have a distinct effect ; and it is with this class that we have now to deal. But, before attempting to do so, it is necessary to premise, that even upon this class, the effect of political influence is much smaller than is generally supposed. The social governs the political much more than the political the social ; and though it may, in spite of Dr. Johnson's dictum, be worth more than half a guinea to live under one form of government rather than under another, it certainly is not worth anything like as much as would be imagined from the common talk of th-e world. From the first biblically-recorded experiment upon mankind down to the present day, it has been made only too clear that happy social conditions " Never can be given By all the blended jx)wers of Earth and Heaven." Social Politics. 145 But these must come from within, as a result of character. The political constitution of a people is but one of the last developments of its character, as that character works outwards ; it is an expression, rather than a cause, of internal condition. The ruins of political attempts, strewn all over the world, spell out the lesson con- densed in the lines added by Johnson to Goldsmith's poem — " How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which kings or laws can cause or cure ! " And the lives of politicians — even of the most renowned — tell the same story. It is not the statesman, but some- body greater, who sees very far ahead ; for the most suc- cessful politician is he who only gets up half an hour before the rest of the world, and can tell what sort of a day it is going to be. To see further, once meant the axe or the stake ; but now it only means ridicule and neglect. Still, whilst maintaining that the effects of political changes are much less than might generally be sup- posed, we must not fail to allow that they are very con- siderable. Political and social conditions do act and re- act upon each other, so that undoubtedly many political changes may, and will, produce marked social effects. The Coming Democracy is sure, at any rate at first, — for we always exaggerate the importance of newly-acquired power — to have no lack of confidence in this influence, and no hesitation about putting it to the test. The Middle Classes have lost that exuberant faith in legisla- tion which cheered on their fathers, so that the present generation is decidedly in these respects becoming " Sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." L 146 The Coming Democracy. But the masses of the people are yet untried and un- spoilt. They are ready to pick up and bear onwards the torch dropping from the faltering jfingers of their dis- appointed predecessors, for their zeal is only beginning to be fired. We see signs of this in the great thirst for legislation, which has been a characteristic of the last few years, and which is still increasing ; and from such signs we may be sure that the Coming Democracy will, before long, vigorously use its new power, in trying to solve the old problem of making people happy by Act of Parliament. Perhaps it will be a help to simplification, if we con- sider this probable action of the Coming Democracy according as it will affect separately the three classes into which the community may be divided ; and we may say of these, that the Upper Class depends chiefly upon land, the Middle upon trade, and the Lower upon labour. ( 14; ) CHAPTEE I. THE UPPER CLASSES. It seems probable that the action of the Democracy will begin to operate at the top, and so take first the question of the tenure of land. Indeed, all the signs by which we usually foretell coming political changes, in- dicate that before long we may expect considerable activity in this direction ; public attention is being in- creasingly drawn to the subject, and men of all classes are more and more discussing its principles, and forming their opinions as to what should be done. That something, at any rate, should be done, is rapidly becoming the settled conviction of the Democracy : and the more the people look round and consider the matter, the more resolutely are they sure to adopt tliis opinion ; indeed, there is danger lest this resolution may degenerate into precipitancy, when they come to realise the present state of affairs. For, however the fact may be disguised by the increase in the number of apparent landowners resulting from the modern vice of suburbanism, it is certain that the number of real land- owners, in the only sense of the term reasonable for the subject, is gradually diminishing. When the people find out not only that this is so, but that it must be so from L 2 148 The Coming Democracy. the nature of our laws affecting land, they will be sure to remove from these laws whatever they think likely to have this effect ; for the idea of the soil of the country becoming the monopoly of a small class, is repugnant to every democratic instinct. We are always apt to try to rectify hastily an evil which has crept upon us slowly, and without suspicion ; as the man who has been robbed through a long period, is likely to be more angry, when he finds it out, than he who has suffered all at once. So it might be reason- able to expect the people to take strong measures when they waken up to knowledge ; but there is reassurance in the fact that, as this wakening seems likely to be gradual, so the action following will be likely to be gradual also. Hence there is in reality the greatest safeguard to the landlords in the steadily increasing attention being given to the land question ; for other- wise there might be sudden discovery, followed by hasty attempts at remedy. Not that morality is really in- volved, but nations are apt to throw into matters of mere wisdom or folly, that feeling which, in individuals, is only roused by those of right or wrong. Another safeguard against hasty action is to be found in the fact, that this question is a complex one, in prin- ciples as well as details. It cannot be settled by any simple theory, though this has often been professed to be done. There are many problems other than econo- mical, and some of them more important than any such, which must be involved in the land-tenure of any country. We have not done when we have settled — even if we could manage that — which system is the best for the cultivator and yields the largest nett produce ; The Upper Classes. 149 for since every nation depends upon its land in a way in wliicli it does not depend upon anytliing else, we are bound to consider how any changes connected with that land, will affect the national welfare as a whole. Thus in England we must bear in mind that, whether for good or evil matters not, our social and political system has, from the earliest times, continuously had the land for its basis ; and, therefore, we cannot now disturb this basis, without disturbing proportionately the whole system resting upon it. And not only are political and social considerations, as well as economical prin- ciples, involved, but also strong sentimental feelings come freely into play. Multitudes of emotions springing out of our present land system have become an integral part of the intellectual disposition of nearly all of us : the lord and the squire, the parish church and the hall, the hunt and the race, and all the various associations which give so much character to the existence of people in the country, and which even mould the ideals of those who live in towns ; all these may be but forms of a civilisation which is doomed to depart, but, nevertheless, the forms themselves have still such a hold over us that we can- not act uninfluenced by them. They are woven into our literature, and mixed up with nearly all our social system ; to them we owe much of the poetic halo of our lives, and most of its cheerful fancies; they seem to link us on to a past, pleasant though probably unreal, and to bear us on to a future, pretty though probably unrealisable. And their influence goes very low down : indeed, it would be hard to name any class upon which it does not act ; and it will be found that many classes 150 The Coming Democracy. which will largely affect the Coming Democracy, are subject to this influence in a much larger degree than is now generally expected. The masses of the people have in their nature more common feeling with the country squire than with the town manufacturer, and this is true even of those whom this manufacturer employs and pays. Englishmen who are healthy are mostly actual or potential sportsmen, and this is the sort of life to which they are always prone to revert. Like the lady made from a cat who conducted herself quite properly until she saw a mouse, the masses of the people, who have seemed for a good while to care chiefly for economical proprieties, will show quite another tendency when we come to touch that country life which attracts their strongest yearnings. It may, however, be said that this is going too far, for no change in the land tenure could have such an effect ; but experience says otherwise, as those will acknowledge who are at all familiar with the social life of countries having very different systems. How much effect these feelings may have, it is neither necessary nor possible to say : all that we need insist upon is, that the land question cannot be one merely of statistics, but must be complicated by political, social, and sentimental considerations ; and the influence of these will tend to keep back the Democracy from coming to a hasty decision. So we may expect the people, or those who act for them, to go pretty thoroughly into this matter: not only as to the practical effects of our present land system, but also as to its theoretical bearings ; and therefore it is necessary to consider how the land ques- tion will probably appear to the masses. The Upper Classes. 151 It seems likely that they will examine it in reference chiefly to the inquiries, how rent arises ; to whom it should belong ; how it has come into the possession of those who now claim it here ; by what tenure they hold it ; and what changes, if any, should be made in this tenure. As to the first, they will find that rent arises because Nature is so fertile and yet not fertile enough. If no land yielded more than was necessary for the subsis- tence of its cultivators, none would pay rent ; nor would any, if the first land cultivated kept on yielding equal returns for additional cultivation. Eeut may arise from any, or all, of three causes ; namely, the varying fertility of different soils, the diminishing fertility of the same soil for every additional cultivating invest- ment, and the variations of distance from a common market. It will soon be understood, that whenever any land less fertile than the best is cultivated, it can only be because even the yield from this land is considered a sufficient return ; and that therefore the yield from the better land is more than what is considered a suffi- cient return. Those who are willing to cultivate the inferior land would, of course, be equally willing to give the same cultivation to the superior land, and to go without the difference in yields between the two lands ; for the nett result to them would be the same. Thus there is a margin between the two lands, which can be spared from the produce of the best land with- out injury to its cultivator ; and this constitutes a rent from that land. And so on with all the varieties of diminishing fertility, each less fertile land which is brought into cultivation adding to the rents of all the 152 The Coming Democracy. lands differing from it by several degrees of fertility, and causing a rent to be afforded for the first time by the land differing from it only by the last degree of fertility. So it will be seen that rent arises, not from absolute fertility, but from the varying fertility of different lands ; and that it is caused, not so much by the cultivation of the land which pays it, as by that of other land yielding a less return. But rent may arise not only from the extended cultivation of inferior lands, but also from the increased cultivation of the same land ; since it is a law of Nature that, after a certain point, capital and labour applied to land only give a proportionately diminishing yield. Such capital and labour would therefore not be applied, unless this diminished yield was considered a sufficient return ; therefore the undiminished yield from the pre- vious capital and labour must be more than is con- sidered a sufficient return. Thus there is a margin between these two investments, as between the two qualities of land in the first case, which can be spared without injury to the cultivators ; since all that they have a right to exj)ect is a fair return, and that they get from the last, and therefore least productive, invest- ment of capital and labour, or otherwise they would not have made it. So it will be seen that rent, from this cause, arises from the diminishing fertility of the same land ; and that it comes not so much from the capital and labour which pay it, as from the investment of other capital and labour which yield less rent, or none at all. Another cause of rent is to be found in the variations of expense necessary to bring the produce of different The Upper Classes. 153 lands to market ; for in the case of two farms of equal fertility, but one of which is more distant, this one would not be cultivated unless the produce, after bearing the expense of being taken to market, yielded a sufficient return to satisfy the cultivator. Therefore the cultivator of the nearer land must have a surplus, equivalent to this cost of carriage, which he can part with and still be in a position equal to that of the cultivator of the more distant land. Differences in the expense of bringing produce to market should, however, rather be included in the costs of cultivation, the produce in each case being valued only when marketed ; so that the land for which this expense is the greatest, may be considered as yielding a proportionately less return, and so with all the others. In this case we come to the conclusion that the cause of rent is to be found in the diminishing fertility, either of different lands, or of different investments of capital and labour applied to the same land. These considerations will lead the Democracy to ask to whom ought to belong this surplus so arising, and which is called rent. Many w^ill say at first " To the cultivators," but that answer will be found of itself unsatisfactory, as soon as the question " Why ? " is added. For it will be seen that this surplus is not due to the cultivators of the soil which pays it, but to those of that which pays none. Just as if there were only half-a-dozen men on an island, each of wdiom had as much land as he wished, and all this land were equally fertile and equally well situated, none of them would pay any rent ; but as soon as a seventh man came and cultivated inferior land with a proper return, all the 154 The Coming Democracy, original six would then be able to afford a rent. This rent would plainly be caused, not by their own exer- tions, but by the coming of the seventh man ; and so there could be no reason why they should claim it for themselves. This is the case with the rent of land everywhere. It is caused not by the original cultivation of the soil, but by such an increased demand for its products as has necessitated an increased, and less productive, cultivation of it. This increased demand which is the ultimate cause of rent, may be, and gene- rally is, caused by an increase of population ; but at any rate it is certainly not caused by the cultivation of the soil which pays the rent, and therefore its results cannot in any sense be said to belong to the cultivators of that soil. Increased cultivation is an effect, and not a cause, of increased demand ; and increased rent is due simply to the increased cultivation necessitated by that demand. Hence in the case above named, the rent, if due to any cultivator, is really due, strange as it may sound, rather to the cultivator of the seventh farm who pays no rent, than to those of the six who pay it. But, strictly, rent is due to whatever causes an increased demand for the products of the soil. Such an increased demand can only arise, either from an increase in the average consumption of the present population, or from an increase in the number of that population. Neither of these causes can be a result of the cultivation of the soil, for people do not consume or multiply because there is more produce ; and even if they did, such an increased consumption could not affect rent otherwise than to prevent its falling, for rent only rises when demand overtakes the present means of The Upper Classes. 155 supply. So the various increases of rent which have gone to form its present value, have not been caused by the cultivators of the soil, and therefore cannot be claimed by them. It may be objected, of course, that no land, however fertile, could pay rent unless some one brought it under cultivation, and certainly in this sense these first cul- tivators may be said to be the causers of rent. This shows that rent must be divided into two parts, one being the return for capital, whether consisting of money or labour, or both, invested on that land ; and the other being the increased value resulting from the cultivation of less advantageous land. As to the first part, the original cultivators woidd not have made the investment unless they had expected a fair return within a reasonable tune; and certainly they would never have supposed that those who followed them ought to receive this return for ever ; whilst as to the second part, none of the cultivators at any time can have caused it, and therefore the cultivators, as a class, can never rightly claim it. It is this second part which constitutes by far the largest proportion of rent ; for that which is a return for capital, never lasts long, nor forms much of the whole. To find the real cause for rent, then, we must go to what causes an increased population, or an increased demand from the present population, which last is an effect of what is called improved civilisation. Increased population or improved civilisation may have many causes, but the principal of these are nearly always to be found in some phase of the political condition of the country ; that is, in its government. For, to begin with, it is clear that there can be no rent unless there are more 156 The Coaiing Democracy. cultivators than one ; and that when there are several cultivators, there can be no peace, and therefore no settled cultivation, unless there is some settled form of g6vernment. This radical necessity is so universally felt that whenever the proper government becomes too weak to perform tliis duty, in every country brigandage, in some form or other, is sure to spring up. The public in reading of bands of brigands, as they are now in Turkey and as they were a short time ago in Greece and Italy, is apt to suppose that they make a living by robbing occasional travellers ; whereas the chief part of their subsistence, and that upon which they depend regularly, comes from the black mail periodically paid by the cultivators and others in their district. Brigand- age is, in fact, a form of that irregular government wliich must always come into being when the regular government is unequal to its duties. Men must have government of some sort, if they are to live in any state of cultivation ; as they must have water if they are to live at all. Not only is government a necessary condition to any cultivation which can yield rent ; but also the quality of government is one of the principal causes determining the condition of the nation ; and this chiefly determines the population, so, consequently, the rent of the land. Of course many other causes affect the number and con- dition of the population ; some of these depending upon the qualities of the people themselves, as their inven- tiveness, energy, and the like; and others depending upon the physical characteristics of the country itself, as its geographical position, geological constitution, and tlie like. But whether the causes be physical, moral, or I The Upper Classes. 157 political, it is certain that their benefits, of which rent of land is one of the principal, belong to the people themselves, and not to one class only ; least of all to a class coming into being as a result of the people's development, and not as a cause of it. "Therefore the theories, now so prevalent, whether as applied to Ireland or to England, which assume that the rent of land should of risht belong to the cultivators of it, have no justification in fact ; nor would they have even if the present cultivators were the direct descendants of the original ones, and the direct heirs of all their claims. But as none of them are anything of the sort, the argu- ment has, if possible, still less reason. The Coming Democracy is sure, before it settles the land question, to appreciate the force of this truth ; indeed there are many signs that it is beginning to do so now. One of these is the growing prevalence of the opinion that all the land of the country ought to belong, so far as rent is concerned, to the State, for the State is the only impersonation which can receive anything belonging to the people as a whole. Whether or not possession by the State is the best way of carrying out the principle, it seems most probable that the ultimate reply of the Coming Democracy to the question, to whom the rent of the land should theoretically belong, will be, that by right it ought to belong to the people. This leads to the third question, namely, as to how the rent of the land of England has come into the pos- session of its present owners. It may sound strange, but it seems nevertheless to be true, that the principle of the land belonging to the people, which is the basis of what is now called Communism, was also the basis of 158 The Coming Democracy. what was once called Feudalism, so that these two sys- tems, generally thought to be so different, really have the same origin, and the same justification. For it makes no difference to the principle that the rent of the land belongs to the people, whether this right is claimed by a State comprising the whole people, or by one in which the whole people are represented by a single person. But our system has not had its whole origin in Feudalism, and therefore to understand it properly the Democracy wiU have to go back to the elements of our present civilisation. These do not start with the arrange- ments of the Normans, but must include the preceding systems of the Eomans and Saxons. We are too apt to overlook the influence of Eome upon the general civili- sation of our country, and to limit our ideas of the Eoman occupation to the adventures of Julius Csesar, and the building of a few walls, and the making of a few roads. But Eome did not thus lightly impress any country upon which she laid her hand, much less one upon which she held that hand for nearly four centuries. We are reminded of Eome by the names of many of our chief towns, by the municipal institutions which govern these, and still more by the radical principles of juris- prudence upon which our present system of law is chiefly founded. The country which received the ser- vices of the celebrated jurist Papinian, and in which Ulpian and Paulus probably occupied official positions, was not likely to have much to learn in the way of law, from men brought up amongst uncivilised Gothic wanderers. If we had not had to depend upon Norman writers for most of our knowledge of our native English The Upper Classes. 159 forefathers at the time of the Conquest, we should long ago have understood that those forefathers had more to teach their conquerors than to learn from them, espe- cially so far as the laws of the soil were concerned. And this vantage ground, probably one of five or six centuries, they chiefly owed to the original Eoman conquerors ; whose land system, in spite of the various agrarian struggles which distracted their city and gave birth to some of its most dramatic episodes, was in many important features more advanced than the Feudal system. Amongst the Eomans, the proprietor of land was the absolute owner, and could bestow it absolutely at death ; with them the possession of land was chiefly a personal matter ; and to them we owe much of that personal character which still is associated with such possession. The Saxons introduced another element; for whilst with the Romans the political ideal was a city, with the Saxons it was a community, the only claim to belong to which community rested in the possession of some part of the land which was its basis, as this was the only mark of a free man. Our modern separation between "real" and "personal" estate was strongly marked amongst the Saxons, and indeed carried much more weight with them than with us ; for only land was recognised as the ground of personal privilege and civil rank, no amount of gold or chattels conferring the franchise. Hence among the Saxons, love of land was the ruling passion. As Tacitus tells us, they did not care to live in cities ; their ambition was not to add "house to house," but "field to field." Still, behind this feeling of personal aggrandisement, and guiding it, i6o The Coming Democracy. there was always working the communal spirit ; and one sign of the strength of this still survives in our expres- sion "House of Commons." At that time this spirit asserted itself in the reservation of the " folk-land " or common-land ; or rather in the maintenance of the prin- ciple that all land was " folk -land " except that which was granted to individuals by charter, and hence called " book-land." The Eomans had the division into " publica terra " and " privatus ager," but they did not accept the principle that all should be assumed to be public unless otherwise specified. But the Saxons did not allow the King to make grants of the folk-land except with the consent of his Council ; for the theory that the sovereign is the proprietor of all the land, was quite alien to Saxon institutions. Their ideal was pre-eminently social, as that of the Eomans was pre-eminently personal. That the Saxon system was effective, is indicated by the rapidity with which the Domesday Book was compiled ; and that it was complete, is suggested by the fact, that registers of deeds were kept in the Superior Courts ; whilst that it was appreciated, is proved by the longing eyes which the people, even to the time of Henry III., cast back to their old Charters, and by the efforts they made to re\dve their conditions. Amongst the Saxons, as amongst the Romans, the owner of land had the un- restricted power of disposition by will ; and the right of hereditary succession extended to all children, except when, as by the custom called " Borough English," the youngest, as being the least able to look after himself, succeeded before the others. Whilst the Eoman system was chiefly personal, and the Saxon chiefly social, the Feudal was chiefly poli- ^ The Upper Classes. i6i tical, find so our present system combines all these three principles. Feudalism, which was not an invention of the Middle Ages but a natural development of the hereditary- character of the Indo-Germanic institutions, was based on the assumption that all the land belongs by right to the sovereign. William the Conqueror, in dealing with the land of England, ignored all the previous distinctions of public and private, and emphatically claimed to make all grants by his sole will as sovereign ; which claim was specifically acknowledged twenty years after the Con- quest. The very term " feudal " (probably preserved in the Scotch verb " to feu," and supposed to be derived from a word meaning " cattle ") suggests the idea of land being lent for the use of others rather than that of its becoming their absolute property, which was distin- guished by the term " allodial." Feudalism thus seems to start from that assumption that the land should belong to the State, which it is believed by many will be the highest development of Arcadian perfection. Wliy, then, did the State part with this right ? The answer will bring us face to face with some of the most important problems of the land question. As has been stated, land needs, to be brought and kept under cultivation, not only labour and capital, but also some sort of political government, to keep the peace between the cultivators and to protect them from others. A government, unless it is to be replaced, must be effec- tive ; and in such a condition as that from which Feudal- ism arose, this effectiveness was not easy to secure. With such appliances as were then available for man- kind, no large territory could be governed from a com- M 1 62 The Coming Democracy. mon centre ; and so the only method was either to have a government split up, as occurred in the case of the Hept- archy, or to plant in each district a system of govern- ment subject to the central authority. This last was the method of Feudalism. The sovereign needed nobles who should maintain order, and uphold the supremacy of the State in their several districts; and these he could only obtain by gi^^ng them certain rights over the land. But these nobles needed esquires to officer their forces, and soldiers to constitute them ; and so to each of these something had to be given, and that could only be land, for there was nothing else to give. So there grew up a graduated system of land-tenure, not only for the pur- pose of military organisation, but also for that of collect- ing taxation. For government needs not only force but also money, since keeping order is always a very expen- sive operation. Under Feudalism this expense was, how- ever, kept at a minimum ; for since money was scarce and labour plentiful, the government rather exacted direct service, than taxation out of which other service could be bought; just as in England, even during the French wars, sailors were often obtained by " press- ing" rather than by paying. With the Anglo-Saxons land was subject to the trinoda necessitas, in which military service was included; but the difference was, that under Feudalism a man was made a landowner because he was wanted as a soldier, whereas with the Saxons he had to serve as a soldier because he happened to be a landowner. Under both systems there lies the belief that the cultivation of land is a privilege rather than a right. This privilege might be retained by a whole people, or The Upper Classes. 163 divided up between different tribes and villages, or be conferred on particular individuals ; but in no case did it confer the title of absolute property. The idea that a man can hold land and do just what he likes with it, without feeling called upon to make any return to the nation, was equally unknown to the Eomans, Saxons, and Normans, and must be considered as quite a modern growth. Feudalism here was mitigated by the preceding grand code of civil and personal liberty, and also by the com- plications of the real property law ; and out of the system so mitigated, and influenced by the preceding Roman and Saxon systems, our present system has been de- veloped. It is not difficult to understand the process of this development. The feudal relationship had two characteristics neces- sary to be noted. In the first place, the claims of the sovereign upon the land were not limited to service, but v/ere gradually extended so as to include many burden- some charges, as those of " relief," " wardship," and others, as well as the constant liability to " forfeiture." In the second place, the relationship was purely a per- sonal one, so that the lord in dying could not bequeath any of its advantages or responsibilities to a successor. Indeed the lord could not appoint any heir at all, for he was regarded rather as the holder of an office than as the owner of a property ; and the practice of the eldest son succeeding, became general only because in most cases he would be best fitted for the duties previously performed by his father. And the performance of these duties was no light matter in the days of an Otho or a William the Conqueror. M 2 164 The Coming Democracy, In fact this was found so burdensome that every plan was tried to lighten it, or to escape from it altogether, iio the barons, to obtain protection from the oppressions of the sovereign, fell back upon the people, and hence we got Magna Charta ; and we realise how much liberty owes to the nobles, when we observe the great encroachments of royalty between the decay of Feudalism, completed by the reign of Henry VII. (to whose first Parliament only twenty-nine temporal peers were summoned) and the rise of parliamentary authority. But the personal character of the tenure, so different from that of the Anglo-Saxons — whose obligations were simply pecuniary — had effects even more far-reaching ; for no lease could be binding on any successor, since to make it so would have seemed to acknowledge the right of that successor to succeed and of the previous holder to bequeath. Hence leases were so uncertain, that the best farming, which requires security, was driven to the lands of Corporations and of the Church, Individual lords then set their lawyers to work to find out how to escape from the drawbacks of their position ; both as to leases, and also as to liabilities to forfeiture and the heavy charges on succession. At last they hit upon the expedient of col- lusive lawsuits, whereby the estates were transferred to trustees who could not be subject to the many personal claims. Of course such arrangements were kept as secret as possible, hence arose the present traditional opposition of the landlord class to any public registry of titles. Thus it will be seen that the practice of entailing, which is generally considered to be a part of the feudal system, really came into being as a means whereby the landlords could escape from some of the The Upper Classes. 165 hardships of that system. But after these feudal claims had been abandoned (military tenure being abolished, even in form, at the Eestoration), or compounded for by the payment of a land-tax, the practice of entailing was still kept up, because it was thought favourable to the landlords' interest and power. As often happens, an instrument invented for one purpose, was kept in use because it was found good for another. This system of entailing, whose principle is that of mortmain, was gradually increased in complication, so that Cromwell was quite within the mark in saying that that the law of England was a " tortuous jumble," whether or not it was an " ungodly" one also. By the end of the thirteenth century, the custom of entailing had become general, but the owners of land might bar their issue, imtil the reign of Edward I. In the reign of Henry VIII. the power was restored to devise land by will; and from this time the ownership of land was more absolute, and its disposal less restricted, than it had ever been since the Conquest. But the discovery of the expedient of life-estates, which took place in the seventeeth century, and led to the general custom of family settlements, put a new face on affairs. Hence gradually the owners of land were con- verted into life-tenants, as most of them are now ; unable to make themselves masters, or dispossess their heirs : for during the Civil War, power was obtained to appoint trustees to preserve " contingent remainders ;" and our present system was completed by an Act in the reign of William IV. to appoint " protectors of settlements." Thus has been developed our present system of entail, which allows the owners of land to be only its 1 66 The Coming Democracy. life-tenants, and yet to dispose of such life-tenancy for a period as long as until the youngest cliild of the 'youngest heir then alive conies of age. In considering the condition of the present tenure, it must be borne in mind that, although by far the larger part of the land is only held by such a life-tenancy as the system of entail allows, it is not true that the land is consequently tied up from sale ; for nearly all settle- ments contain a provision that the trustees can, with the consent of the tenant in possession, sell land and reinvest the proceeds. In default of such a power, the Court of Chancery can confer it. Besides, most estates are disentailed once a generation, and re-entailed to meet the new circumstances. The Coming Democracy, when it understands the present state of affairs, will be sure at first to ask what can be the good of so much complication ; and to pro- pose that the whole system shall be swept away at once. But before any institution is dealt with so sum- marily, it is well to consider what has brought it into being, and what can be said in favour of it. Entails, which arose as an escape from the evils of Feudalism, have not been kept up so much because they help to preserve the solidarity of the landlord class, as because they enable that class to meet the difficulty of family settlements. This difficulty will have to be met in some other way before entails can reasonably be abolished, for it would be manifestly unfair to expect a life-tenant to provide for his younger children merely out of the income of his life-tenancy. But when we come to speaking of sons and daughters, and of providing for younger children, we are reminded of another element The Upper Classes. 167 in our present land system, namely, the custom of Primogeniture. It is called a custom because it so comes down to us from the times when estates-tail could not be barred. It had become the rule, except in Kent, before the end of the thirteenth century ; and had its origin rather in the necessities of the sovereigns than in the wishes of the landlords. In the times when order was with difficulty maintained, the first requisite of a noble was that he should be powerful, both in his position and in himself ; and this could only be secured by his having a large estate, and being the head of his family. Feudalism did not consider what might be supposed to be for the good of the other members of the family, but only what it knew would be for its own advantage ; and this could clearly not be served by estates being broken up at the death of each owner. So Primogeniture came to be the law, though it is now only so in default of any other arrangement : and in dealing with the land question, the Democracy will have to consider what can be said for and against it. It seems to be the only arrangement capable of keeping large estates together ; but omitting this consideration as assuming the wdiole question to be decided, it may be urged that in reality, although so mvich is said to the contrary. Primogeniture does not violate any rights of the younger children. No man's children can have any right to their proportion of his property according to an equal division ; but all that any of them, even to eldest sons, can justly claim, is a certain reasonable pro- vision. What is left beyond this may fairly be disposed of by the owner at his discretion ; and if he chooses to 1 68 The Coming Democracy. give it to his eldest son, no one has a right to complain. Besides, if such a plan had not previously been followed to keep the estate together, probably by this time there would have been nothing at all for any one to receive, and the younger children would have been so much worse off. Whether or not Primogeniture has the recommenda- tion, urged by Dr. Johnson, that it makes but one fool in a family, it certainly turns a number of young people into the world brouglit up in a manner of life for the keeping up of which they, most of them, have no cer- tain means. Though ordinarily the familiar Latin motto may hold true that " those do not rise easily who have to fight against restricted circumstances," still, with an energetic and elastic race like ours, this may be an advantage, keeping up a refined ideal of life, and leavening with superior influences the other classes of society. In Germany, however, with the same system, this mixing does not seem to take place. There must be something to be said for a system which has been adopted by so many nations, even by the people of such a country as Upper Bavaria , who, being mostly wealthy peasant-proprietors, generally leave everything to the eldest son, except a small pittance to the other children. But whether primogeniture is to stand or fall, it must at any rate defend itself on purely utilitarian grounds, and cannot be allowed to shelter behind the sentimental arguments so often urged in its behalf. Primogeniture does not depend upon any principle of Nature, for Nature only makes men, and it is men that make heirs ; neither can it be justified by any practice of antiquity, for in Eome, as in Athens The Upper Classes. 169 under the laws of Solon, all the children shared equally, the eldest son having at most only the first choice of a portion ; nor by any precept of religion, for the Jews assigned at most a double-portion to the eldest, and this might be withheld, as in the case of Eeuben, or sold, as in that of Esau. Evidently Noali and his suc- cessors did not adhere to Primogeniture, or there would only have been one sovereign over the whole earth ; and tlie chief consequence named as likely to follow from obeying the command to honour father and mother, suggests that land would be given to other than eldest sons. Job made his daugliters sharers of his pro- perty, and David gave the kingdom to his younger son ; whilst Noah, Abraham, Jacob, and Jude, amongst others, set examples of dispossessing eldest sons. And if we look at other history, we find that Augustus did not choose as his successor his own grandson, but Tiberius, a stranger; and tliis freedom of choice was exercised not only by several Persian monarchs, but also by some of our own Anglo-Saxon Kings ; and by Philip II. of Spain, who left his daughter seventeen provinces ; as well as by Ferdinand I. the brotlier of Charles V., who divided his empire amongst three sons. Amongst the Eomans, the father could not only dispossess the eldest son, but liad also, according to tlie well-known motto, over him, as over all his children, the right of life or death ; whilst amongst the Jews, the civil power originally allowed the father to will to any, but com- pelled him to divide a certain portion, at first an eighth and afterwards a fourth, equally amongst all his sons and daughters. From these considerations we have a right to infer that Primogeniture cannot be 170 The Coming Democracy. justified merely on religious or historical grounds. At any rate it is certain that no arguments of that sort will count for much with the Coming Democracy, which will require the institution to justify itself purely on its own merits, or to give way. What can be said for it of this kind ? It is not in the influence of Primogeniture upon the landlords themselves, — as that it weakens parental authority, diminishes the intentness of preparation for future posi- tion, and has many other effects, — that the answer has to be sought ; but it must be found in the good or evil tendency of the system as it affects the nation generally. For the Coming Democracy cannot be expected to care much, in such a question, for the personal welfare of a small class, but will be almost exclusively guided by consideration for the good of the whole people. And in this respect Primogeniture cannot be judged apart from Entail ; for though these are not necessarily parts of each other, since estates might be entailed on the youngest, or on any child, still the principle of the whole estate going to one child is connected with the principle of the estate being entailed. Por both Primogeniture and Entail agree in seeking to prevent estates being divided ; and therefore the Democracy will have to consider whether or not it is wise to continue a system whose object is to bring large landed estates into one hand, and to keep them so from generation to generation. That tliis object is gained, cannot be questioned in face of the statistics of land tenure, which show that the nobles own one-fourth of the land in extent, and one-eighth in estimated rental ; that five hundred of them alone own one-fifth, and that the nobles and The Upper Classes. 171 gentry together own four-fifths of the soil of Great Britain and Ireland ; so that nearly all the landlords of the country, having a right to the name, would not fill a reasonably-sized hall more than twice over. And that the system not only keeps estates in one hand, but also tends to accumulate them, is proved by the gradual decrease in the number of landowners. In the last year of the reign of Queen Anne, four thou- sand freeholders voted in a Sussex county election^ where it would be hard to find four hundred now. Our land system certainly seems to have the effect, for some reason or other, of giving to him that has, whilst it takes away from him that has not, even that which he has. Statistics are not needed in support of these state- ments, for abundant proofs come within the experience of every one who observes ; indeed, the process is steadily going on under our own eyes. But all this may be true, and yet it need not neces- sarily follow that the system should be condemned, for it may be a good tiling that the land of a nation should be in few hands. This, indeed, is the gist of the whole matter ; so that the first question which the Democracy will have to consider is, whether it is better for the nation that its land should be held by few or by many. After that, will come the question of the best form of tenure by which these should hold it. According to the answers to these two questions, will the land question be even- tually settled, without much regard to the feelings of this or that class ; and no supposed rights of property will be allowed to stand in the way. It will be useless to say that, if the rights of landlords are disturbed, the tenure 1/2 The Coming Democracy. of all property will become insecure, for the people are rapidly coming to believe that land must not be put in the same category with things which men have made them- selves. As no man gave the land, so no man can be allowed to take it away, for the nation has rights over it which no private titles can ever annul. The Coming Democracy will unflinchingly assert these rights ; and will insist that consideration for the good of the nation must have the strongest influence in deter- mining the proper settlement, since in regard to land the motto pre-eminently holds true that the welfare of the people should be the supreme principle of law. What, then, is to be said about the land being in the hands of a few ? Much both ways, it must be allowed. In favour, it may be urged, that large landlords are not as keen in raising rents ; can afford to be more forbear- ing ; have more capital to make outlays ; and are better able to encourage improvements in agriculture. Against, it may be urged that the more numerous the possessors of land, the greater the stability of the nation ; that the competition of great owners sends land up to a fancy price, so that no man can buy it as a mere investment ; that land thus receives fictitious and injurious associa- tions, as conferring hereditary dignities, so that men will " scorn delights and live laborious days," that they may give for land much more than it is worth, and thus " found a family ; " that to have such a class, is to set an example of extravagance in living which acts injuriously upon all the Upper Classes, whilst the hope- lessness of acquiring land drives the Lower Classes in the country to the recklessness of despair; that these large estates cannot be kept together except by such The Upper Classes. 173 expedients as Primogeniture and Entail, which turn the owners of land into life-tenants, who cannot find capital to improve their estates except by taking from their incomes that which they need for the provision of their families ; and that the nation is impoverished by land thus not being made the most of, and the comfort and morality of the people are injured by cottages not being built and improved. In deciding between these rival arguments, the Democracy will chiefly be led by the con- sideration of which system is likely to make the land produce most for the use of the people ; one principal necessity for which is that capital must be attracted to the land. It will also certainly not escape attention that, whilst it is understood that at the present time at least five hundred millions more might advantageously be devoted to agriculture ; even in these days of bubble companies wliich are sure to fail, and foreign loans which are sure to be repudiated, capital seems un- willing, or unable, to find its way to our own soil. It will be thought that something must be wrong some- where, when, in the country which has money to lend for any purpose all the world over, likely to yield a dividend, that employment of capital is neglected which is always most advantageous to society, and most certainly remunerative ; for nothing can be better for a nation than that its soil should be made the most of. But before the Democracy decides this question, it will have to bear in mind that there are other conside- rations involved, even more important than any merely commercial ones ; for the national welfare must be con- sidered, not only as to the produce which can be received 174 The Coming Democracy. from the land, but also as to its dependence upon the land in its whole extent. As land is not simple pro- ' party in respect to its ownership, neither is it in respect to its uses. Land is not merely one of the great pro- ducing agents of a nation, but it is also that upon which the political character of the nation depends in quite a peculiar manner. Any one looking back, must see that the political government of England has hitherto had its chief basis in the system of land tenure ; Feudalism was reared on this basis, and we have hitherto so far adhered to Feudalism as to stick to the same foundation. Until a date wliich is only like yesterday in the history of an old nation, the possession or renting of land was the chief qualification for voting, as it was the only one amongst our Saxon forefathers ; and even now the tradition is so strong, that few men who are not land- owners have a chance of taking a leading part in its government, for everybody naturally thinks of a Cabinet Minister as a landlord either m esse or in posse. Successful lawyers, and business men who are politi- cally ambitious, nearly always try to conform to this tradition by using their wealth to buy land, although the investment is both unremunerative and trouble- some ; and so strong is this conviction in the minds of the public, that large landlords are, as a matter of course, all other things being equal, always first thought of as suitable representatives ; whilst the man who rises to high power without this qualification, is sure to be re- garded with more or less lurking suspicion. The fact is undeniable that our governors have hitherto, and do now, come, as a rule, from the landlord class. Indeed, it is doubtful whether this class has ever had so much The Upper Classes. 175 power before, even under the Normans ; for the system by which they exercise their influence is so effective and so complete. As the sprig of Spanish broom which Geoffrey wore in his hat, gave the name to that family which ruled England for over three hundred years ; so land, of which that sprig was the emblem, still gives their power to those who rule us. The Democracy will, therefore, have to consider whether any proposed change of land-tenure will do away with this class ; and, if so, into whose hands the government of the nation will then fall. For two facts must not be forgotten : one, that it is possible to elimi- nate from society such a class as that which we indicate by the term landlords ; and the other, that even in a Democracy the political control must be chiefly in the hands of some class. As to the first, of course, the land must have owners of one sort or other, but these need not necessarily be landlords ; by which term is meant landowners receiving incomes from land enabling them to live, without avocation, in the best manner of their country. Such a class, standing in the highest assured position ; exercising a predominant influence over that which is the most visible and lasting source of national sustenance ; and possessing the greatest command over the advantages of leisure and opportunities of culture ; is sure, if it cares, to distance all competitors in the race for political power. But certain changes in the system of tenure — such as making over the land to peasant proprietors, or turning its possession, by an arrangement of perpetual tenure at fixed rents, into a mere matter of annuity — could either abolish landlords altogether, or leave them in a position so shorn of prero- 176 The Coming Democracy. gative as to be equivalent to abolition. Wlio then would politically take their places ? For some one must, since Democracies, no less than other forms of government, need rulers ; the only- difference being, that Democracies need better ones. The common idea that Monarchy is the government of one, Aristocracy of a few, and Democracy of many, is a mistake, for experience shows that every form of government must be under a few : the difference being that, under a Monarchy, these few are chosen by one ; under an Aristocracy, by a few ; and under a Democracy, are subject to dismissal by the many. The first two forms of government govern by selection, for their rulers are chosen either by birth, or by some other system which they themselves have arranged : but Democracies govern by rejection, for under them any man may push himself forward, as a rule, and the supply of rulers is left to this source, but the people reserve to themselves the power of sending such candidates to the right about. Would-be rulers are treated like proposers of changes in the Lokrian laws ; either their suggestions are adopted, or themselves put to death. But whilst under a Democracy the many are always liable, and generally ready, to interfere ; they neverthe- less can never exercise such continuous and complete authority as constitutes government : and, since this has to be exercised in every State, it must in every Demo- cratic State fall into other hands than those of the people generally. Indeed, there are many reasons why under a Democracy the leaders may have more power for the time being than under any other form of govern- ment. Tor under a Monarchy or an Aristocracy they are The Upper Classes. 177 always subject to the supervision and criticism of a few who, understanding the science and facts of the art of politics, are ready to pounce upon any and every mis- take ; and who, at least, are always affecting by their influence the conduct adopted : whereas under a Demo- cracy, the masters are otherwise too busily engaged to give continuous attention, and therefore leave the rulers alone, except when general interest is roused. Another reason lies in the fact that the Democracy has always "a rod in pickle," since, if it will, it can exercise without resistance, the power of dismissal. Strength generally begets tolerance ; and those who are sure of their dernier ressort, are likely to put up with more than those who have not the confidence of such a resource, as is the case with both absolute monarchies and aristocracies. For, though it may seem that the power of this sort belonging to a ruling sovereign is unlimited, practically it has never been so, even in the most absolute governments. For monarchs, from the days of David downwards, have never found it easy to get rid of strong ministers who were popular ; but their peace has often been "wakened" by the working, amongst those supposed to be their servants, of — " The eagle-winged pride Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, With rival-hating envy," so that many a king, in trying to rule his rulers, has come down — " Like glistering Phteton, Wanting the manage of unruly jades." And monarchs, too, like the masters of Daniel and Strafford, have often found it equally hard to retain N 178 The Coming Democracy. ministers they liked who had become unpopular. The same holds true with aristocracies ; these become divided I into parties, each depending largely, like the Mon- tagues and Capulets, upon popular sympathy ; so that no leader who commands this, can be dismissed with impu- nity. But in Democracies, the popular will has nothing to consult and nothing to fear ; its voice may not be the Vox Dei, but, at any rate, it has such divinity as belongs to power against which there is no appeal. Besides, government is an art, and one of the most difficult — indeed — it is the most difficult, of all arts. Like all great arts, too, it needs the best devotion of a life- time to learn, and continued practice to retain proficiency. Like all great arts, therefore, it is forbidden to poverty ; it is open only, in any considerable extent, to wealth and leisure. No political jugglery can get behind the primary laws of nature, one of which is that the man who must earn his daily bread by the sweat of his brow, can have neither brains, nor time, nor energy, for much else ; least of all for learning anything worth considering of any difficult art. Farm labourers and colliers, and mechanics and joiners, cannot be politicians in any but the lowest sense of the word ; and that any one supposes they can, is one of the symptoms of that absence of humour which is a jnost melancholy cha- racteristic of our time. All that such classes can do, and all that any Democracy that means to endure will ever give them to do, is to interfere when they are not satisfied with the way in which the work of the nation is being done for them. Indeed, this is the usual method with all difficult occupations ; people do not paint their own pictures, or build their own houses, or The Upper Classes. 179 make their own pottery, but, if they are not suited, simply tiy elsewhere. This is the part which the masses really take in all Democracies, as we see if we watch the course of affairs not only amongst ourselves, but also in the United States of America, and more recently in France^ In all these countries, and in all the Democracies of the past, whether of ancient or modern times, there has always been a small number of men out of which the rulers have had to be chosen, some by one party and some by another. And we find the same if we look, not at the apparent rulers only, but also at those who pull the wires governing the action of the different parties ; iVn- the king-maker, like the Mayor of the Palace, is often greater than the king. These wire-pullers are sure to be few in number ; and though it is not often clear how they come to be what they are, it is always certain tha-t they cannot be easily removed. The public does not by any means always select its own masters, but it certainly never goes long without masters of one sort or other. The Democracy, like the horse which wanted help, is liable to get riders on its back who cannot easily be got off again. Politics, then, is an art of which it is more true, even than of acting, that the worst professional is generally better than the best amateur. Whether better or not, however, in politics, as in all other arts, amateurs have, no chance against professionals, into whose hands the government of every country comes. The Democracy has therefore to decide, not whether it shall be ruled by politicians, but only what shall be the character of N 2 i8o The Coming Democracy. the politicians who rule it ; from what class they shall come, and what position they shall hold. ' Hitherto the professional politicians ruling England, under every form of government, have come princi- pally from the landlord class. And they have had the virtues, as well as the vices, of that class. There is no occasion to dwell here on their vices, for historical recriminations are no part of the subject ; but the Demo- cracy should carefully consider their virtues, so as to know what it ought to try to retain. For a government depends more upon the character of its rulers, than upon the theories of its system. If the Coming Democracy is to bring in worse rulers — more ignorant, more selfish, more cowardly, more corrupt — then the masses of the people will be worse off than if nothing had ever come to which the term Democracy could in any sense be applied. Two virtues of pre-eminent importance, which we have been accustomed to expect in our rulers, are leisure and purity. Leisure, indeed, is more than a virtue, it is a necessity ; and the Democracy will have to choose its leaders from those who not only can com- mand leisure, but whose leisure is also assured and independent. Politicians who have no means of living apart from politics, will have to find them in politics ; and thus will introduce the most certain elements of the worst corruption. This independence is thus the ground of purity, as well as of leisure ; so that it is one of the first requirements for suitable rulers, as a class. Hitherto this independence has rested upon land, and it seems that there could not have been any other basis for it. Before religion and politics began to be separated, such a basis was often found in the Church, The Upper Classes. i8i which gave to England some of its ablest rulers ; but, apart from this, if we leave land, we seem to be inevit- ably driven upon professional position. We see this tendency now in the number of barristers coming to the political front ; and so it has happened in every other comitry. But that distrust of lawyers, which has such a deep root in the mind of the masses, will prevent the Coming Democracy from taking such steps as would dethrone the landlords, unless they saw that there were others than lawyers who would, and could, step into the vacant places. One question, then, which the Democracy will have to ask itself, before it deals with the land question, is Avhether, supposing such a change was made in the tenure as would abolisli the landlord class, there would be any other class fit and ready to take the place in politics hitherto filled by this class. It is possible that the accumulation of wealth, resulting from the vast development of trade during this century, may ultimately create a class living upon investments, and possessing sufficient culture and spirit to be fitted for sucli a position. It must be confessed, that there are few signs of this at present ; but no one can say what the future has in store for us. We are like travellers crossing an isthmus separating two oceans ; behind us lies the Atlantic of the past, before us the Pacific of the future, and like " stout Oortez " we stand — " Silent, upon a peak of Darien." Therefore, it has to be borne in mind that the land question is not merely an economical, but it is also a political one, so that it might be advisable for the Democracy to pay the penalty of continuing the worst 1 82 The Coming Democracy. conceivable land-system, provided this supplied the country with the best class of politicians. In States like Athens and Eome, in ancient days, and Venice, Genoa, and Holland, in more modern times, the land- system was necessarily quite a secondary matter, to be judged not by its own considerations, but by its general effects upon the State ; so it is possible to understand how this might be the condition in England. Everything depends upon the point of view. If England is regarded as a country in itself, then, of course, its system of land-tenure must be of primary importance ; but if we consider it as a little island ruling a great empire, then a bad land-system which helped to pro- vide good rulers, would be preferable to a good one which was in this deficient. At any rate, it is clear that the land-question cannot be dealt with quite apart from considerations of political expediency, especially in England, where the land has always been so closely connected with politics. Neither must social considerations be left entirely out of view, for there can be no system of land-tenure ■which is not intimately connected with these. Espe- cially does this hold true in England, where, in spite of the immensely developed power of its commercial classes during the last generation, that mysterious but most potent influence called " tone " is still under the dominion of the landed classes. By this " tone " is not meant anything affecting merely what is called " Society," for with such a thing the Democracy would neither need, nor wish, to trouble itself; but it is used to indicate that which, more than anything else, determines the character of social life generally. We understand something of The Upper Classes. 183 its nature when we ask what is meant in any country by the word " gentleman ; " and we realise something of its importance, in a democratic connection, when we reflect that it is amongst tlie masses of the people that the current associations of this word are most tenaciously cherished. Therefore, every system of land-tenure must be judged, not only economically, but also politically and socially ; and we have next to ask what, in these three considerations, the Coming Democracy will say to the various systems proposed for its acceptance. With the practical character of the race, it will ask, not so much what arguments can be urged for the different systems, but rather how the systems have actually worked where they have been tried. Let us see what can be said. In judging of the working of different systems, there are two sets of effects which ought to be kept quite distinct, namely, those concerning the amount of produce, and those concerning the condition of the cul- tivators. For it is quite easy to understand that a sys- tem might yield the most produce from land, and yet might necessitate such a condition of the cultivators as would make its adoption inadvisable. Even in such a practical matter as this, " it is not all of life to live ; " meat and drink cannot be accepted as the be-all and end-all, for statesmanship has to take heed of other, and even more important, things. Mere Marthaism, unin- spired by any striving for " that better part," will not do even in politics, for the State must be more than a policeman if it means long to be at all. The democratic instinct has never sympathised with that restriction of State functions to the mere protection of person and 184 The Coming Democracy. property, which is considered one of the guiding prin- ciples of the " Manchester School " of politicians ; and this is why this School, in spite of its great material services, has so often been treated in a way that looked ungrateful, and has never gained a hold on the affec- tions of the people. Affection, indeed, is never won by services, though we all are constantly expecting to get it in that way ; hence there is no wonder if we do not find it so even in politics. A party may prove that its policy has transformed the conditions of the country, and yet may find itself kicked out because the people cannot get fond of its principles. The democratic spirit of England is alien to the ideals of this School, though it may welcome their material benefits ; and hence we must not expect the principles of this School to exercise anytliing like as much influence in the future as might otherwise seem likely. In the present discussions on the land-question, these principles are allowed much more prominence than their probable future influence justifies. For the Democracy will not be satisfied by being told which system of land-tenure yields most produce, but it will also ask which tends to make the people happiest and best. Therefore all the systems must be subjected to both these tests. All the possible systems of land-tenure may be ranged in the two classes of those in which the owner cultivates the land himself, and those in which he lets it to others. The first class consists of the following systems : — Firstly, where the owners are small, and themselves cultivate their own land; secondly, where the owners are large, and employ a good many others; and, The Upper Classes. 185 thirdly, where the owners are not individual, but col- lective, so that the land is cultivated by the community for the community. The second class consists of the following systems : — Firstly, where the rent is paid by a proportion of the produce, varying with each harvest ; secondly, where it is a sum agreed upon before cultivation, but which may be changed from time to time ; and, thirdly, where this sum is fixed for very long periods. Now, as to the first class, the system by which large owners employ others, may be dismissed from discus- sion, for we have now no example worth citing. The form it took, both in ancient times and up to a period close to our own, was that of slavery ; for cultivators cannot be got to fill this position, in anything like a remunerative way, except by force. It does not follow that this force must always take a brutal form ; for there is a great difference between the position of the man who cultivated the land of a Eoman noble in the days of Augustus, or of the serf in England under the Normans, and that of the nigger on an American or Cuban plantation. But all these must come under the head of slavery, because in all, the cultivators were tied to the soil ; they were, in the ancient phrase, adscrijJti glebce. It might seem that, though slavery is to be condemned on humanitarian grounds, it would be found profitable economically, since no labour could be so cheap as that which was compelled to go on, and which received no remuneration beyond maintenance. Prac- tically, however, it has been found that slave cultivation is dear, because it must always be wasteful. This in- herent necessity of slavery is probably one of the causes 1 86 The Coming Democracy. of the decay — often so rapid as to be unaccountable — of many ancient civilisations. No ancient people ever grappled with the land-question, but they all fell into the system which seemed easiest; especially in days when greatness meant pretty constant fighting, and fighting meant numerous captives, who could best be made use of as slaves. But now not only is public feeling opposed to slavery morally, but also enlightened experience disapproves of it economically, so that it no longer comes within the range of argument. Another system of the first class, namely, that of cul- tivation by communities, scarcely enters into practical consideration ; though there are now several instances of it, and it is the ideal after which many ardent spirits most eagerly yearn. We see its operation largely in Eussia, where the Mir, or village community, is the unit of civilisation, and was the foundation of the Em- pire. Originally the people owned the land themselves, in communities, which spread themselves, by the arts of peace, in the districts over which the tribes of Huns had previously spread themselves by war. After the com- munities had consolidated into a State, the nobles, whose support was necessary to the sovereign, and who must be supported themselves, received allotments of taxes. Under Ivan IV. this taxation of the land de- veloped into its proprietorsliip ; and so the peasant pro- prietors were turned into tenants, which was only a step towards their becoming serfs, since the nobles began to require from them, as was the case in France before the Eevolution, services as well as rents. This system is tried on a small scale in several parts of the United States of America ; but so far it nowhere seems favourable to, or The Ijpper Classes. 187 even consistent with, a high state of civilisation. In- deed, individualism seems a necessity of progress ; man- kind has to march forward, not in column but in line, and " the thin red line " charging the heights of Alma is a figure of the way in which all our battles for ad- vancement have to be fought. And herein lies a formid- able danger — a danger which has generally proved a stumbling-block to all democracies. The ground-prin- ciple of Democracy is the supremacy of the majority, that is, of the community : against this supremacy there is no resistance and no appeal, so it becomes a tyrant which cannot even be grumbled at. The stories of Tarquin and the poppies, and Thrasybulus and the ears of corn, will apply to democracies as well as to despot- isms, for no personal tyrant ever gained a power so complete that none of his subjects could talk against it ; and even if the tongues of all in grumbling could be stopped, the hopes of all for a change could not be sup- pressed. Those who were disaffected, could always feel that others were in sympathy with them, and could always look forward to a better time. There was much consolation under the greatest tyrant, in the thought that some time he must die ; for death is a wave which not only cannot be ordered back, but from which no monarch can, like Canute from the advancing sea, have his chair removed. But the majority never dies ; in the Democracy alone it cannot truly be said that hope of this sort " springs eternal in the human breast." Indeed, it hardly springs at all ; for when the mere majority rules, every man knows that to set himself against its will, means banishment from power. It may be said that the majority can be led to accept reforms, which always The Coming Democracy. begin with a minority ; but there is a very great differ- ence between teaching the people something about which they have not made up their minds, and opposing them in sometliing about which they have. Any man who, in a matter of primary importance, dares to do this last, must, under a Democracy, be prepared not only for political, but also for social, ostracism. We see the bearing of this if we reflect that in England politicians who confess themselves opposed to the principle of mon- archy, can not only exercise great influence but can also rise to high office ; whereas in the United States, any politician who is in favour of monarchy, or at least doubts the wisdom of the rule of the mere majority, if he has the hardihood to utter his opinions, must expect to be shut out from public life. At the back of every monarchy there is a public opinion to be appealed to, but at the back of every democracy there is nothing but itself. It is all very well to talk about freedom of opinion amongst democracies ; there is the utmost free- dom to agree with the majority, and this is nearly all that freedom usually means in history ; but freedom to oppose the majority is not so general, whilst the futility of doing this is generally certain. Hence, in democracies there is often more sickening adulation paid to the sovereign, that is, to the majority, than can be found in the most absolute monarchy ; for when there is only one tyrant, he can be in only one place at a time, and can require only the services of the few people about him; but when the tyrant is everybody, everywhere homage has to be paid to him. We have in late years seen the truth of this in the fulsome flattery bestowed upon what is called the " British Working Man." No The Upper Classes. 189 sooner did he become, by the lowering of the suffrage, the master of the situation, than he was acknowledged the possessor of virtues unsuspected in liim before; and ere long no one will dare to hint that he can possess a fault, or make a mistake. So everywhere under demo- cracies, the majority is in danger of viltimately receiving that woe which is laid up for those of whom all men speak well ; whilst the minority is in danger of never exceeding that discretion which is proverbially the better part of valour. But if the minority is cowed, there can be little real progress, for salvation is of minorities. Therefore democracies must in their own interest, and for their own preservation (since an unprogressive Democracy is a doomed one), cultivate individualism as an antidote to the dangers of majority-rule. But Communism, of any sort, means the elimination of the individual, and the substitution of the society ; and especially would this hold true as applied to land : therefore communism in land is opposed to the true democratic welfare. This system seems, indeed, rather to be a dream of the past than a probability of the future. Bancroft says that the first emigrants to the United States started with the plan of a common property in land ; soon, how^ever, they were obliged to assign it to individual cultivators, but at first without the right of bequeathing by inheritance, though afterwards they found it necessary to grant this also. So, as all kites have at last to fall to the ground, all schemes must eventually come to the level of the practical necessities of life ; man may pro- pose, but God, through His irresistible laws, will dispose. And these laws seem to be against farming by communi- 190 The Coming Democracy. ties. The Swiss may make cheese on this method, as it is the only one possible to them, but they do not carry it out properly ; for the quantity of each person's milk is noted, and cheese returned in proportion, so that their principle is rather that of public bakehouses tlian of community-farms. In Eussia, under the Mir, separate land is assigned to each family ; and in India, where this system has been said to prevail, each cultivator holds his own land, and is a member of a community only in so far as he pays a rateable proportion of the taxation which is levied on the community as the unit of taxation. Our own experience of the management of Corporation property, points in the same direction. Communism in land might work in primitive times, but the complicated necessities of a comfortable civilisation are inconsistent with it : and we have to remember, in quoting the past, that in ancient Greece, private comfort was comparatively unknown ; and that the greatest men of India, and of the East, could not obtain many things which have now become necessities to paupers. iSTo doubt, there is an Arcadian fascination in this idea of men living in great families, as the Greeks dined to- gether in classes ; and dividing freely with each other the products of their labour, so that all should have enough and none too much : but the idea must be dis- missed as unrealisable with the world and mankind as they are. The fancy must not be spoiled by an attempt at translation into fact, but must be kept, like other poetic heritages of the past, as the inspiring spirit of many a lofty ideal. Hence no system of this sort could be recommended to the Coming Democracy. The Upper Classes. 191 Indeed, there seems no tendency of pviblic opinion in this direction. It might be thought that the proposals, of which we sometimes hear, to make the State the universal landlord, are of tliis sort, but actually they are not so : for they only contemplate the rent being paid to the State ; and would not interfere with the land being cultivated by individuals, each for his own benefit, after rent was paid, as now. Communism only begins when the produce of cultivation is appropriated by societies instead of by individuals. There are two other dangers to democracies in that preponderance of majorities which is encouraged by communistic arrangements. One is that minorities, when too much gagged and over- ridden, are always prone to rise in rebellion ; so that democracies, which find it so hard to allow liberty of this sort, are most liable to break in pieces on this rock. Another danger is, that the suppression of minorities is so far a return to that primitive state of anarchy, from which some other form of government is likely to emerge. Tor the first necessity of all govern- ments is that they shall protect the weak against the strong ; this is, indeed, their primary raison d'etre. The strong, in all countries, are well able to take care of themselves without any government at all ; and govern- ments came into existence chiefly to prevent them from oppressing the weak. In past times, the weak have been the masses of the poor ; but the principle will remain the same when these have become in their turn the strong : for those are the strong who wield the powei', whether themselves individually rich or otherwise. In the later days of Eome, those became the strong, whose ancestors in former times had cowered before the fore- 192 The Coming Democracy. fathers of those who in their hands were now the weak ; and this see-saw of history keeps constantly repeating itself. So every Constitution must soon come to an end which does not protect the weak, whoever these may be, against the strong, whoever these may be ; and every development of Communism tends to diminish this protection, and therefore is opposed to the welfare of any Democracy which means to continue. There remains then of the first class only the system of the owners being small, and themselves cultivating their own land. This is what is called Peasant Pro- prietorship, and has been much lauded of late years. It is directly opposed to the system last spoken of, which implies the abolition of proprietorship altogether, whilst this would intensify it. The system of peasant proprietorship prevails in Prance, Denmark, Norway, Switzerland, the Pthenish provinces of Prussia, and the Channel Islands, as well as in some parts of Belgium, Holland and Korth Italy. In Denmark and Norway the results seem fairly satisfac- tory, though every traveller in those countries, especially the first, must notice an uninteresting, and almost melan- choly, dead level of civilisation. If that level were high, this would not so much matter ; but it is not particularly so, whilst there are many evidences of a want of enter- prise, and of a lack of that " go " which comes from the mixing of various classes. Probably Nature has much to do with this ; but that would only show that the system of peasant proprietorship does not seem to avail much against an unkind climate, and an out-of-the-way situation. Switzerland, however, is often cited to show what can be done under adverse circumstances. But the cir- The Upper Classes. 193 cumstances do not seem so adverse if taken altogether : for a country which is in the centre of Europe, and so receives much transit ; which is beautiful, and so is visited by many tourists ; wliicli is without navy, and so has less taxation ; and which is mountainous, and so only needs a small army to defend it ; has many things in its favour in the struggle for wealth. Its products may have often to be wrung from unwilling Nature ; but otherwise they are cheaply produced, and are near good markets on every side. Undoubtedly Peasant Pro- prietorship has done much for Switzerland : probably more than any other system could have done, as all will acknowledge who are familiar with the air of careful culture and social comfort which per^^ades so many of the Swiss valleys ; but it must be remembered that a system which does well with certain local conditions, and personal characteristics, may not be suitable in every place, and amongst every people. In the Channel Islands this system also seems to answer well ; for while the average rent in England is about thirty shillings an acre, there, as in Switzerland, it ranges from four to six pounds. But here, again, peculiar circumstances must be taken into account ; for both the climate and soil of the Channel Islands are admirably adapted to market-gardening, which suits Peasant Proprietorship, and yields large rents. In the Palatinate the farms are mostly under twenty acres, and yet the district is celebrated for its prosperity. But France is the best example of Peasant Pro- prietorship and therefore, should be most carefully considered. It is often thought that this system was introduced at the Revolution, but, as we see from the O 194 The Coming Democracy. remarks of Arthur Young, it existed there before. What the Eevolution did, was to relieve it from the oppressive drawbacks which had gradually been heaped on by the nobles ; amongst which were the droit de colomhier, droit de garenne, hanalites, and worst, and most oppressive of all, the corvees, both seigneuriales and royales. Just after the Revolution, there was a great increase in the population, but tliis has since remained pretty stationary ; and though the land continues to be subdivided, under the conditions of the Code Napoleon, the farms seem to have reached their minimum of size ; for the land is sold again, so that about one-fourth of the land of France changes hands every ten years. There aren ow eight million proprietors, including the owners of house property ; and five millions of these are land proprietors, of whom four millions are cultivators. Three millions have only about two and a half acres each, whilst two millions have fifteen acres. What a differ- ence there is \vill be seen when we reflect that France is only one-third larger than our own country, altogether ; and yet in England, where they are the most numerous, the owners of land only number about a quarter of a million, including suburban freeholders, who fictitiously swell the number. France has other kinds of tenure also, both lease and metayage ; and there are more than a hundred and fifty thousand farms exceeding one hundred acres each. What, then, seem to be the general effects of Peasant Proprietorship ? It increases the gross produce of the soil. Whether or not it is a fact that " the poor man's crop never fails," it is certain that there is much truth in the saying that " the spade is a gold mine ; " as also The Upper Classes. 195 in the proverb of Lombardy, that "if the plough has a ploughshare of iron, the spade has a point of gold." This truth was well known to the farmer in ^sop's fable, who left a fortune to his sons in the induce- ment to dig the ground to find it. There is no incen- tive to exertion like the sense of property; and men will spare no effort to improve what they know is their own, as is seen in the elaborate arrangements for ir- rigation found so frequently in Switzerland and Saxon Switzerland. In Switzerland, too, as in France, land is often made by the carrying of soil to situations where no culture at all would be attempted under any other system : and the produce is increased by the minutest attention to every detail ; not a useless plant is allowed, not a ray of sunshine stopped, not a straw left in the way, for the Peasant Proprietor gives to his land that service of love which is without money and without price. Peasant Proprietorship thus increases population, as under this tenure the Campagna near Eome, now a malarious semi-desert, once swarmed with inhabitants ; but this increase is only at first, to fill up to the required strength. Afterwards it keeps down population, by bringing into play those motives of prudence and pride which seem to be the only possible checks. Thus in many Cantons of Switzerland, men are not allowed to marry until they can show that they are in a suitable position ; whereas in England, many of the men who marry are under twenty years of age. If we regard a country as complete in itself, so that our consideration must be confined to that, there seems no doubt that Peasant Proprietorship encourages that restriction of population within the probable means of subsistence, O 2 196 The Coming Democracy. which is believed to be one of the first requisites of mate- rial progress. But there is this defect in the Malthusian theory, as generally inculcated, that a nation ought not to think only of its own country, but must, like Pistol, regard the world as its oyster. If the English people had acted like the French, very probably the inhabitants of these islands would now have been in a more com- fortable condition ; but how would it have been with the English race ? How about the millions of our country- men who are now in America, and Australia, and New Zealand, and the Cape Colony, and elsewhere — all over the globe — winning lands to civilisation, and laying the foundations of Empires which will probably become some of the ruling influences of the world ? History shows that the movement of peoples has been always one of the chief factors of progress ; and this movement has always had hunger for its chief cause. It was this which first brought the human race out of its cradle in the East ; which helped to send Abraham on his eventful southern journey ; which forced from their central Asian homes, into the fertile plains of India and Europe, those restless tribes to which we owe many of the rudiments of our language and civilisation. The glorious possibilities of the world would have remained unused, and even un- known, had not hunger driven men about. Here is another instance of that great law, under which our life seems obliged to work itself out, that the greatest evil and the greatest good have often the same cause. So it may be true that want of food inflicts upon humanity some of its most painful and most degrading sufferings, but it is also true that this same want has led to many of its most beneficial changes. " Perfect through suffer- The Upper Classes. 197 ing " seems to be a necessity of material, as of spiritual, progress. Had some Malthus converted our primitive forefathers, Europe would at this day have been a wilderness; and were we to give in to him now, it would mean that " Thus far and no farther " was hence- forth to be the motto of humanity. But who shall say that the potentialities of the earth are yet being all made use of? Who can doubt that there are many " fair fields and pastures new " still waiting for the service of man ? And man of some sort must fulfil his destiny in regard to these. So that Malthusianism and Darwinism are opposed to each other : for the necessary self-restraint can only be expected from the best races ; and if these put themselves under the con- ditions of this, they will leave the world to be peopled by those who are inferior, so that the effect will be the survival, not of the fittest, but of the unfittest. It may seem unwise to speak slightingly of such forethought, and it is certain that the want of it is constantly bringing plenty of suffering upon multitudes of individuals. Still, when we come to treat of nations, it is also certain that such prodigality of increase, if not itself a proof of general superiority, is mostly found along with it. A race may have too much vital energy, or too much confidence in itself, to be thus " cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in," to such " saucy doubts and fears ; " for just as avarice is generally only a form of that cowardice which dares not, without provision, face the future, so this holding back may only be a sign of that timidity which will not take a step in the dark. But it is this daring to go forth in the darkness, " heart within and God o'er- 198 The Coming Democracy. head," which opens the way to all great advancement. Nations, like men, can never make much progress if they will not stir until every danger is guarded against, and every want provided for. So it has come about that whilst the French nation has, so far as numbers are concerned, remained pretty much as it was, the English has spread so far, and increased so much, that at its present rate it must eventually dominate the world. A race with such a destiny could not, and should not, learn that restriction of itself which is one of the natural results of Peasant Proprietorship. Hence as to the adoption of this tenure in the future, every- thing will depend upon the disposition of the Coming Democracy in regard to this extension. This tenure may be favoured, if the ideal of this Democracy is that of comfortable self-content ; but that is not natur- ally the temper of young democracies. On the contrary, they have usually all that adventurous ardour of youth which ignores obstacles, and scorns dangers. There are other effects of Peasant Proprietorship which will have to be taken into account before it can be adopted. Not only the destiny of the nation must be considered, but also the nature of its country. There are few things in this world which will suit everybody, and Peasant Proprietorship is not one of them. Undoubtedly it tends, not only to improve the physical circumstances of the mass of the people, as the peasant of Switzerland gets more animal food than our own labourers ; but it also raises their intellectual condition, as every man in Switzerland is said to possess a gun, a vote, a field, and a book ; and the little farmers give their children a good education, and send their sons to agricultural colleges. The Upper Classes. 199 But it does not therefore follow that this system would be the best for every country. The fundamental requirement of agricultui'e is that the soil shall be made to yield the most produce with the least labour ; and therefore the fulfilment of this requirement must depend, in some degree, upon the nature of the soil, and the physical characteristics of the country. Peasant Proprietorsliip is suitable where the land is broken up by mountains, and the culture is chiefly that of dairy-farms and^ nursery -gardens, as in Switzerland ; or where, though the land is mostly open, it is largely devoted to the growth of vines and beet-root, as in France ; but where it consists of tracts most suitable to wheat growing or grazing, the case is different. There Peasant Proprietor- ship is found too limited ; it cannot make proper use of machinery, and of other arrangements for saving labour, which are now becoming essential to advantageous cul- ture. It may be true that in the Bas-Rhin, where petite culture prevails, reaping and sowing machines are largely made use of; but it must be evident that Peasant Proprietors are generally certain neither to have the ability, nor disposition, to make much use of machinery. This is shown in the case of France ; where the culture, though extremely careful and thorough, is decidedly backward from a scientific point of view, and certainly extravagant so far as labour is concerned. Indeed, un- less the principles of trade, which are becoming gene- rally accepted, are mistaken, or are inapplicable to agri- culture, it would seem that Peasant Proprietorship must give way before the march of improvement. It is, of course, a primitive system : the first cultivators must have dug their own land, and the highest ideal for gene- 200 The Coming Democracy. rations was that of each man sitting under his own vine and fig-tree. But we have come to believe that pro- duction of all sorts is best carried on under the princi- ples of the division of labour ; each man confining him- self to that for which he is best qualified, and such labour being conducted under skilled direction. Farm- ing is, with us, getting more and more into this way ; the division between labour and management becoming steadily more marked, so that agriculture can in England scarcely be now made to pay, unless freely supplied wdth capital, and carefully directed hj skill. But capital and skill are not much associated with Peasant Proprietor- ship ; for a man possessing these in any degree, is not likely to claim, or to be contented with, such a sphere. The tendency of modern civilisation therefore seems decidedly opposed to Peasant Proprietorship. But this system is not only out of harmony with the destiny of the race, and with the tendencies of modern civilisation, but is also unsuitable to the character of our people. Men, to make good Peasant Proprietors, must have two paramount affections : the love of home, and the love of money. Frenchmen, to take an instance, are peculiarly gifted in both these respects : they never properly settle down away from their country ; but wherever they may be, they feel themselves exiles, whom splendour, whether of nature or position, dazzles in vain, and who long to return to the old home, if it be only the proverbial " lowly thatched cottage." Even the Chinaman is in this respect less tenacious, for he is content if but his bones may be carried back to his native soil : but La belle France is the mistress after which the Frenchman's heart is always hankering ; he The Upper Classes. 201 longs to clasp her again whilst living ; and cannot be satisfied with the prospect of spending his life abroad, and so extending the influence of his country. The Englishman, on the contrary, is by nature a rover. Proud as he may be of " the old country," he does not hesitate to leave it if inducement offers ; and indeed it is often a hard thing to keep back the best sort. Once away, he rarely thinks of returning; and readily makes a home for himself wherever he may be settled. Such a man will never put that value upon his native land, in the literal sense, which is quite natural to a Frenchman ; but if he can do better for himself elsewhere, will not scruple to go. It does not seem likely that, for as long as it is worth while to consider, land in England will ever be cheap enough to tempt Englishmen to buy it that they may set up as Peasant Proprietors. What man, to whom one country is pretty much as another, will buy ten acres in Eng- land, when he can get a hundred in America for the same money ? As long as Englishmen retain their adventurous spirit, and there is land still to be had cheap elsewhere, they will not pay here that price which is a necessary condition of Peasant Proprietor- ship. And this consideration is a fundamental one in this question. People often talk as if we have merely to decide which seems theoretically the best system of land- tenure for a country, and then simply adopt that, forgetting that the present condition must have a good deal to do with the matter. In every such problem, what is must largely influence what will be, as this is itself largely the result of what has been ; according to 202 The Coming Democracy. the old motto, " In vetere novum latet, in novo vetus patet ; " for, as Longfellow says — " We have no title-deeds to house or lands ; Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, And hold in mortmain still their old estates." The continuity of cause and effect cannot be thus broken ; the influences which have so far fashioned the national customs, cannot be thus summarily checked, but will persist in operating. And there is another motive, more practical, and so probably more powerful ; namely, that of money. If the land of England belonged to nobody ; or if we were prepared to ignore all the rights of property, and treat it as if it did ; then theory might settle the question : but it happens that owners for all of it are already in posses- sion. Therefore we have not only to believe that other owners would be best, but we have also to understand how these can be made to replace the present ones. It is idle to prove that England would be better under Peasant Proprietors, unless such proprietors will come forward and obtain possession on fair terms. This means paying for the land what it is worth, if we do not contemplate committing a certain degree of spolia- tion. But if such a price is paid, farming cannot be made to pay, for land in England has a price much beyond its commercial value. Will our farmers be willing to pay such a fancy price, when, as a class, they have no hesitation about emigrating, and can get plenty of land cheap elsewhere which will yield a very profitable return ? Frenchmen, with their passionate attachment The Upper Classes. 203 to their native soil, may do this, but Englishmen are of a different disposition. A man with capital enough to buy his farm, would find such a purchase almost the worst possible investment, in a money sense ; and would also expect a life much less sordid and laborious than that of a Peasant Proprietor. And if the land must be heavily mortgaged, as is frequent where Peasant Proprietorsliip prevails, the condition of such a farmer is likely to be worse than that of one paying a rent ; for it is better to be under a landlord than under a money-lender. The case would not be improved if the present landlords were to sell, and become mort- gagees ; for, as the history of ancient Eome plainly shows, the worst evils ensue when nobles become usurers. A farmer will get a much better return by using all his capital to work a rented farm, than by sinking the best part of it to buy one of his own. Unless there are Peasant Proprietors ready to work it, it would be as impotent for the Coming Democracy to establish a system of Peasant Proprietorship, as it was for the church to decide that the theory of Galileo was untrue. "Yet it moves," was the answer of the dis- coverer ; and so the laws of practical necessity will still go on operating. If our schemes do not harmonise with these, so much the worse for the schemes. It is doubtful, too, if the narrow life of a Peasant Proprietor would be to an Englishman's liking. Tor it cannot be denied that this life, in spite of all its idyllic features, is decidedly narrow ; as those will allow who have any acquaintance with the countries in wliich it prevails. The " Merry Swiss Boy," so called probably out of sarcasm, or in revenge for heavy hotel bills, is, 204 The Coming Democracy. in spite of all his respectable qualities, a very dull fellow ; though there are greater differences in Switzer- land than in any other country of similar size, probably even than in any one country of any size — the Canton of Uri and the Canton Vaud, for example, being sei^arated by some centuries. The French peasant, too, is probably unequalled in Europe for ignorance and want of aspiration ; and this in spite of great advan- tages of nature, for he has not naturally much of the bumpkin in his disposition ; he is gifted with keen intelligence, delicate perceptions, refined manners, and often exquisite tact. The difference between him and our own labourers in these respects is immense ; if the French peasant does not understand what is said to him, at least he tries to do so, while the English labourer is too stolid and stupid to make any effort at all. Nevertheless the ignorance of this peasant is incredulous ; not only is everything that we mean by culture quite out of his world, but he is also unaware of the most common-place facts of every-day know- ledge. And what is still more, he has no desire to know them; on the contrary, he generally looks askance at such knowledge, if he has advanced far enough to have any idea about it at all. And perhaps "there is a method in his madness"; for instinct rightly tells him that books, and newspapers, and education, would soon make an end of that life of monotonous toil and simple fare, to which he is so much attached, and which only custom could make endurable. For no person who was not to the manner born, could learn that fine spirit of economy which leads the peasant to cut from a sheep only just as The Upper Classes. 205 much wool at a time as will make a pair of stockings ; and to prefer black sheep to white, because they save the expense of dyeing. It cannot be denied that this peasant life fosters many admirable virtues — as temperance, industry, frugality, patience, thoughtful- ness, self-denial, and self-control — which would probably be diminished by an increase of knowledge. From the time of the old Spartans, to the modern days of the French peasant, it has been found that, in this respect the children of this world are wiser than the children of light ; since, unhappily, it seems always to hold true that when knowledge comes in at the door, simplicity flies out at the window. Our habits of life — with our books, and newspapers, and societies, and railways — so bring into a focus all the rays of light, that we are often apt to forget how few these are, in comparison with the darkness ; and how great is that darkness. So France, instead of being a highly civilised country is, in reality, as Eenan says, a vast Scythia ; with small spots of civi- lisation, scattered at wide intervals, like the old Eoman Stations established in conquered countries. The Athe- nians are only to be found in little groups ; and have so much the worst of the situation, that the virtues which are the best stamina of a people — stoic self-denial and heroic frugality— are seldom found amongst them ; but, on the contrary, it is only too true that the cultured generally live extravagantly, whilst those who live simply are generally stupid. It is of course always difficult, and generally im- possible, to say which is cause and which effect; for these two, like the halves of the original creature in Socrates's account of the origin of love, are always 2o6 The Coming Democracy. going about seeking each other ; and they as often fail to find each other in the one case as in the other. So we cannot be sure, whether the narrow and sordid disposition of the French peasant, has been caused by the system of Peasant Proprietorship, or has been the reason why that system was adopted. But, at any rate, we may be satisfied, not merely from the example of France, but also from that of all the countries where this system prevails — on the small scale alone possible in Europe — that^ at any rate, it is impossible except in connection with incessant labour and rigid frugality ; even though, as happens in France, that spare time is devoted to the land, which in England is too often spent in the alehouse. Will the English people conform to these conditions i No one who understands them, can think this likely ; for of all the virtues, thrift is that with which they are least endowed. Englishmen, of all classes, are very extrava- gant, and the poor are just as much so as the rest. And this extravagance is not a product of the last half-century of commercial development, though it has been largely fed by that ; but it lies in the national disposition, and has shown itself all tlirough the national history : in the days of the Edwards as in those of the Georges ; in the time of Elizabeth as in that of Victoria. The Englishman must, as a rule, be well fed ; he is the most expensive animal that has appeared on the earth since the Eoman ; and just as it was not long after the fall of that Empire, before scarcely a descendant of the ancient race could be found, so the Englishman would not merely decline in the scale of life, but probably disappear altogether, unless he could find most of the conditions of his usual main- The Upper Classes. 207 tenance. Many efforts are being made to teach the Eng- lish people the habit of saving; and, within limits, this is of course desirable, but it may go too far. For we none of us either like, or respect, those who are too fond of saving : we feel that too much carefulness of this sort is a sign of a cowardly and paltry dispo- sition ; and though most men are more or less given to the love of money, all men admire those who are above it. This admiration is especially strong amongst the masses, as they are least addicted to the vice. All who have any acquaintance with the working people of England, will acknowledge that, as far as their means allow, they are generally generous, and often lavish : nowhere is there so much free-handed liberality, and so little of that peddling economy which goes by the name of cheese-paring ; amongst no class will the suffering find more sympathy, or the needy more help ; and in no class is there less chance of developing those habits of incessant carefulness, not to say meanness, which seem essential to the success of the system of Peasant Proprietorship. And it must also be borne in mind that Peasant Proprietorship bears particularly hardly upon the women ; who have not only to work during the day in the fields, but must in the evenings, when the men come home to rest, do their household tasks as well. If women, under the Coming Democracy, receive more direct political power, they will not be likely to favour any changes which would increase the hardships of their sex. In weighing the arguments about Peasant Proprie- torship, it must not be forgotten that it undoubtedly increases the respect for property in general. A small 2o8 The Coming Democracy. indication of this is seen in the freedom to roam about, which is mostly allowed where this system prevails ; and we must feel that it would be a decided advance if Lancashire operatives could, in this respect, be as safely trusted as the people of France and Switzer- land. Another undoubted fact is, that Peasant Proprietor- ship strengthens the conservative feeling of a nation. This was illustrated in the different conduct of the people in France in the crisis of 1789 and in that of 1848. In the first, the peasants were revolutionary ; whilst in the second, this feeling was confined to the towns and middle classes — the Peasant Proprietors coming forward as the friends of order. So it is significant that only where Peasant Proprietorsliip prevails, has it liitherto been found safe to trust the people with universal suffrage. Hence this system acts as a sort of lightning con- ductor for the protection of large properties. On the other side, it must be considered that large properties are an advantage to agriculture ; for only those possessed of considerable capital can afford to try experi- ments, and to adopt the most progressive methods. It is a common complaint that one of the great drawbacks to Ireland is the extensive absenteeism of its landlords ; and it does not seem that this evil would be diminished by the abolition altogether of landlords, in the sense in which the term can have any meaning in this connection. The presence of such a class is not merely a benefit to farming, and to the making of good roads, but also to the whole intellectual and moral life of a neighbourhood ; for one of the great evils of the general adoption of Peasant Proprietorship, is that it tends to reduce all to a dead k The Upper Classes. 209 level, and so to retard the progress of the whole nation ; for progress, of every sort, is always made by a few leading, and the rest following. Also the circumstances under which a Peasant Pro- prietor holds possession, must be taken into account. If he has to mortgage his farm heavily, he may be in a worse position than if he was under a landlord. Farms are dragged on in this way from generation to genera- tion. The only cure for this evil would seem to be the revival of something like that strange Mosaic ar- rangement, by which land not only, at periods of fifty years, reverted to its original owners, but also became free from all obligations incurred in the meantime. But, after all, in reviewing the three possible methods of land being cultivated by its owners, it does not seem likely that any of these will be especially adopted by tlie Coming Democracy. That by slaves is impossible, and that by peasant proprietors improbable, whilst that by communities is impracticable. Of the three, this last, however chimerical it may be thought at first, seems most likely to commend itself to the best instincts of a Democracy ; for it might ensure comfort to all, without the necessity of excessive toil or degrading economy. When we think of all the evils resulting from our wretched class divisions, and of all the struggles for existence which mar the beauty of life and waste its resources, surely we must often feel that we have not yet found out the best method ; and must often long for some change to rid us of these reproaches to our humanity, and to bring us nearer to that condition which is the aspiration of pliilanthropy and the ideal of religion. But Arcadia is yet very far away; too far to bring P 2IO The Coming Democracy. these schemes of communistic land-owning, which are the dream of many enthusiastic Socialists throughout Europe, within the region of practical politics for the Coming Democracy. Attention must next be given to the second class of possible systems of land tenure, consisting of those in which the land is cultivated by others than the owners. Of course in all these, the owner must receive some portion of the produce, or otherwise there would be no reality in ownership. The difference arises on the two points, of how large this share of the landlord should be, and on what system he should receive it. But, to speak accurately, only the second point is of much consequence here, since the amount to be received by the landlord depends upon causes which are mostly out of the reach of political influences. For, all other conditions being suit- able, cultivators can always be found to hand over what- ever produce is left, after deducting for themselves what is generally considered a fair return for capital, labour, and profit. The amount to be received by the landlord thus depends upon natural causes, which can be little affected by the action of the Coming Democracy, or of any other political organisation. The question thus resolves itself into what are the best methods of paying the landlord ; and of these we are confined to the choice of three. The first is when the landlord receives his share in a certain proportion of the gross produce, paid in kind. This is the system which goes by the name of Metayage, and prevails in the greater part of Southern Europe, especially in Italy and the south of France. The usual arrangement is, that the landlord finds the buildings, stock, and implements ; whilst the tenant, though unre- The Upper Classes. 211 stricted as to what he shall grow, is bound to keep the farm in order, and not to sell away any manure. Such arrangements, which are generally made from year to year, and terminable at the will of either party, are evi- dently liable to abuse, for so much must depend upon the honesty of the cultivator ; and in any case there are sure to be many pickin'gs of which the landlord gets no share. But if humanity could be trusted, this seems to be theoretically one of the best systems ; for by it each year adjusts itself, so that if the produce is small, the landlord gets proportionately less. Thus "by the simple principle of adjustment, the fortunes of good and bad years are shared equally by the landlord and tenant, without any back-reckonings. And how readily this system adapts itself to the law, mentioned above, tliat the amount to be received by the landlord depends upon other than political causes, is shown by the fact, that whilst in the fourteenth century, the landlord's share, in Trance and Spain, was one-fifth of the whole produce, it afterwards rose to one-third, and has now become generally one- half. But though this system theoretically is so sound, and practically (especially in the south-west corner of France, where it exists side by side with Peasant Proprietorship and rented farms), is gaining ground upon the other systems, there seems little reason to expect its adoption here by the Coming Democracy. Its method is too primitive for our commercial and crowded age. Land- lords, to obtain their rights under it, must not own very large properties, as they have to be acqiuiinted with the particular circumstances of each tenant. With us tliis would necessitate a system of surveillance, both costly p 2 212 The Coming Democracy. and troublesome to the landlords, and inconvenient and hateful to the tenants. To obviate this necessity, we have recourse to that principle of speculation which is so largely favoured in all occupations ; and so landlords make a money guess at what they should receive, and try to get tenants who will pay this. The only difference then is as to whether this speculation should be for a long or short term ; and so we get the two remaining systems, of the rent being changed from time to time, or of its being fixed for very long periods. The system of the rent being changed from time to timCj chiefly prevails in Great Britain and Belgium. The fact of these two countries being thrown together is in itself very significant, for it suggests that systems are of much less importance than is generally believed. For Belgium is a model country so far as cultivation is con- cerned. The soil, especially in Flanders, is poor, much poorer than that of Ireland, particularly for grazing ; yet every inch of it is cultivated, and with such success that the country maintains a population twice as dense as that of Ireland. And this population lives in a state of comfort which is not excelled by that of any people ; for the Flemish will not, like the Irish, live in hovels, but insist on having all the requirements of proper civilisa- tion. Any one going through the country, and observing how completely it is cultivated ; how numerous are its people, and how comfortable is their condition ; would come to the conclusion that here must certainly be the best system of land tenure. Yet, as a matter of fact, the system is that which is now so much condemned in Ireland and England. The land of Belgium, like that in France which is not owned by Peasant Proprietors, is The Upper Classes. 213 mostly let on short leases, nine years being the longest : and much of it is held on yearly tenure ; whilst in both cases, the rents are constantly being raised, so that rack- renting is quite common. Yet here is a country much of whose land has been won from the sandy dunes ; which has been kept continuously in a high state of cultivation since the time of the Eomans ; and in which now gener- ally prevail all those practices which are believed to belong to the best farming, such as plough and spade culture, drainage and spaces, disposal of manure, varia- tions of crops, use of fodder, stall feeding, and thorougli weeding, together with such arrangements for compen- sating outgoing tenants as prevent the impoverishment of the land. Peasant Proprietorship, likewise, is found in Belgium ; and in the province of Groningen there is the tenure of " Beklem-Eegt," by which hereditary leases are granted, which are indivisible and prohibit sublet- ting. One difference to be noted is, that in Belgium the landowners are very numerous, there being at least one hundred there for one here in the same space ; and it is also to be noted that where the estates become large in Belgium, the same evils which we find here are apt to begin to appear. There the land really belongs to the people themselves, so that when a farmer's rent is raised, he bears it more contentedly, knowing that the benefit goes to people of a similar station ; and that probably he is himself profiting by a similar advance from some other farmer. We cannot think of Belgium without calling up Ire- land, and being also at a loss to account for the pain- fulness of the contrast. Tor the advantage would seem 214 The Coming Democracy. to be on the side of Ireland. The soil and climate are better for that culture which is now the most profitable, namely grazing ; and the law is more favourable to the tenant in Ireland than in England, for it allows the tenant, in case of eviction, six months in which, by paying up the rent, he may recover possession. But Ireland is an illustration of the too-often-forgotten fact that much more depends upon men than upon laws, for some nations will get more liberty out of the worst Constitutions than others manage to find in the best. 80 every system somehow seems to fail in Ireland. Leases were once the custom, but about the year 1816, "when the value of land fell so greatly, a great number of the tenants ran away; as also in 1846, the time of the famine. The Encumbered Estates Act introduced, about 1849, a new set of landlords, who improved the land, and therefore raised the rents. Then the plan of long leases was tried, but this led to the abominable evil of middle-men ; so that soon the tenants got no benefit, but this was all appropriated by those who con- tributed nothing, and who should have had nothing to do with the matter. The plan of letting farms to the highest bidders has made much higher rents be offered than could possibly be paid, so that arrears have neces- sarily accumulated. These bring a whole progeny of evils in their train, for when a man does not mean to pay, he may as well offer one rent as another : and so, after driving away some good tenant, he steadily pays as little as possible, knowing that no payment he can make will clear him from arrears ; and he also seems as poor, and spends as little on his farm, as possible, lest his landlord may think that he could afford to pay The Upper Classes. 215 more. Though it may sound harsh, it is probable that nothing of this sort would do Ireland as much good as the prevalence of a custom fixing rents at business- like levels, and following with eviction all unreason- able arrears in their payment. For if bad cultivators are not evicted, the land cannot receive the benefit of good ones. The only difference as to eviction between England and Ireland is, that here, when a farmer gets notice to quit, at the end of the time he goes out as a matter of course ; whereas in Ireland he sticks until he is turned out. The cause of the evils under which Ireland is un- doubtedly suffering must be sought not in the laws, but in the character of the people, taken in relation to the history of the connection of the two countries. Given a people with a low standard of comfort, so that the numbers are always close up to the barest means of maintenance ; with a passionate attachment to the soil, so that they set a value upon it quite beyond its business worth ; and with that soil mostly held by landlords of a different nation and religion, who have chiefly come into possession by means associated with conquest and oppression ; and we may know what to expect : especially when we add that the laws under which these people live, have not, in their minds, received the sanction of religion. The fact must be acknowledged that in Ire- land the ownership of the land, in its present hands, has never been accepted by the people ; and therefore it has all the uncertainty which comes from a legal without a moral acknowledgment. In the minds of the mass of the people, the landowners owe their position to alien oppression ; and with such a feeling, no satisfactory rela- 2i6 The Coming Democracy. tionship of landlord and tenant can be established by any re-arrangement of laws. Since it is useless to think of eradicating this feeling, the only course seems to be to give the people the chance of becoming their own land- lords. The case of England must not be put into the same category as that of Ireland : for here not only does this feeling not exist, but also there is not that attach- ment to the land which would cause the people to pay the price necessary to make themselves Peasant Pro- prietors. In Ireland, however, it is possible that this transfer may be managed successfully ; no less to the relief of the landlords than to the gratification of the people. It is not necessary here to say much about the system in England, for now both its good and bad points are pretty well known. So far as feeling is concerned, it works fairly well ; but much may be said against its general effects. One of these is that it does not en- courage the application of capital to the land : for the landlords, being really for the most part only life- tenants, have generally too little motive or means ; whilst the cultivators, possessing no security, have too much caution. So it has come about, that although land is the best possible Savings-Bank ; and the land of England would now yield a good return for, it is calcu- lated, five hundred millions more invested in it; yet English capital, which is seeking outlets for itself all over the world, shows no disposition to find its way to our native land, about wliich we are ready to sing so much, but on which we are willing to spend so little. The Coming Democracy is sure to note this fact and to be eager to alter it. Capital and land, which ought to be The Upper Classes. 217 the closest friends, have long been too shy of each other ; and will have to be brought together again, before much good can be done. Probably one way of doing this will be to give tenants ample security, that whatever they invest in the land, shall be fully returned to them. The old rule that " Quicquid plantatur solo, solo cedit " will have to give way, in obedience to an older and better one — " Aliud tempus alios mores postulat." It was formerly thought that it would be unwise to attract capital to land from trade, where its employment yielded so much more profit and benefit to the country ; but now that epoch has passed, and we have come upon one in which there is too much capital in trade. Trade now wants bleeding instead of feeding : and it could not be better helped than by the diversion of some of its capital to the land ; for such an employment, by increas- ing the productiveness of the country, would ultimately benefit trade in that way as well. We may illustrate this by our familiar experience of shopkeeping. Now, almost every one who has saved a bit of money, em- ploys it in that direction, so that the occupation is not on the average fairly paid for its labours and anxieties ; but if there was a good outlet upon the land, this pres- sure would be relieved, and the money would also be employed in production instead of merely in distribu- tion. The multiplication of shopkeepers also tends to make things dearer, by raising inevitably the cus- tomary standard of profit. If Mazarin could not see, in the well-known story, that " a man must live," he would not have denied that shopkeepers as a class must, unless we mean to do without them ; and it is equally plain that if people do less business, they 2i8 The Coming Democracy. must have more profit upon it, and tlierefore charge Mgher prices. It may be thought that the evil might be cured by granting long leases, but that is a plan which has not generally been found to answer. They were customary in England up to the end of the last century ; but the disturbance in prices which then occurred, made all pro- visional. They are still frequent in Scotland, because that country, not growing so much grain, was less affected by this disturbance. The fact seems to be that long leases are long speculations, which so often turn out bad things ; for if a change occurs, so that one is the loser, he is discontented. If this happens to be the tenant, he generally manages to get away ; and as the landlord cannot do this, when the advantage is the other way, the securities of the speculation are apt to be one-sided. Another suggestion is for a tenant to retain his farm, unless either he or the landlord wishes for a change in rent. Then, if the landlord gives notice of an increase, the tenant may give up, and claim this increase for a certain number of years ; and if the tenant gives notice of a decrease, the landlord may let him go, paying this diffference for the same time ; in both cases the sug- gested rent being assumed to be the present value of the farm : of course, compensation always being given for capital invested in improvements. However this might act, it is certain that, under the Coming Democracy, if the present system is retained, many important changes will be made. In general, the absolute power of the landlords wdll certainly be cur- tailed. Those remains of the Feudal customs, which The Upper Classes. 219 still keep a hold here, though they were swept off the face of the Continent by the French Eevolution, will have to go. No man will be allowed to depopulate a country, because he thinks it would be more pleasant, or more profitable, to turn it into a deer forest ; for the Democracy will not unreasonably think that an interval of eight centuries should have secured us against a repetition of the New Forest episode. Also something will have to be done to radically im- prove that condition of the farm labourers, which is now a reproach to our civilisation. We boast a great deal about our progress, but the Coming Democracy will not fail to notice that its advantages have been anything but democratically distributed. In many ways our farm labourers are worse off than they were in the fourteenth century ; for, though they may be better clad, they are worse fed : and certainly the contrast between their con- dition and that of others — and it is in such a contrast that the sting of poverty lies — is much more painfully pronounced. As to housing, we cannot afford to say much : for, whilst the cottages are poor, their rents are high, in consequence of the scarceness arising from the fact that it is no one's interest to build ; the landlords not wishing either to spend their money, or to increase their liability to poor-rates. Of course, in speaking of other countries, it must be remembered that on the Continent, the people gather much more into villages than is customary with us. This may have something to do with their better houses, for isolation much diminishes the influence of public opinion and public example. The Democracy will also not be satisfied with the fact 220 The Coming Democracy. that the poor-rate of England is from sixteen to twenty per cent., wliilst that of France is five, and that of Prussia but four. Considering that in Ireland one- fourth of the dwellings are mud cabins, it sounds almost sarcastic to call the people " cottiers," as if they rented cottages. Democracies are generally moved most by broad, simple facts ; and tlie Coming Democracy will not fail to wonder how it is that, whilst rents have increased nearly three-fold since 1815, the majority of the people concerned in agriculture seem to be but very little better off for this accession of wealth : the condition of the farmers is slightly improved, and perhaps that of the labourers may in some degree be better ; but most of the increase has gone to that class which has done the least to cause it. How little it has done, is evident from the fact, that this increase has largely been caused by the railway system, which the landlords mostly opposed ; though it put at least a hundred millions in their pockets, besides adding greatly to the value of the rest of their land. Manufacturing has been the cMef mother of rent : not only by being the encourager of railways, but also by raising directly the value of land for its own purposes ; as well as by increasing the com- petition for its possession, as a source of dignity and means of luxury. It may be all very well for the " landed interest," as it is called, to sneer at " trade," but this interest should in fairness remember that it owes much of its income to this " trade." Individuals commonly put on airs of superiority, to keep down the just claims of gratitude ; but classes, and especially the upper classes, should be superior to such weaknessas. The Upper Classes. 221 We come next to the last system, namely, that by which the rent to be paid for land is fixed for very long periods. And, first, what can be learned from the countries in which this system prevails ? India is a case in point ; of interest, because its people are of the same stock with ourselves. They consist of three ele- ments, which have successively ruled the country — the Brahminical Hindoos ; the later and more democratic tribes ; and the Mohammedans, whose government, which was as complete as the Eoman, was at its zenith at the beginning of the last century. This last has left the chief impress upon the civilisation ; and it must be re- membered — which largely accounts for its fascinating propagandism — that Mohammedanism is in many es- sentials distinctly democratic. It does not allow that oppression of the poor by the rich, which has been so much countenanced by more enlightened systems ; for in conquest its hardships are chiefly felt by the landlord class, if there be any ; the actual cultivators not being generally disturbed. The result is, that rent to land- lords is converted into taxation to the State ; so that in India was carried out that principle of the State owning the land, which in Western Europe is now the dream of the most advanced enthusiasts ; the principle itself being the same whether the State is represented by a popular assembly, or by an Oriental despot. This taxa- tion of the land was not varied, so that its cultivators were in the position of farmers paying a fixed rent ; only to the State instead of to landlords. In such a system, a class of middle-men grew up ; partly old rajahs, partly revenue officers, and partly robbers ; who farmed the taxes from the State. The English Govern- 222 The Coming Democracy. ment, either mistaking these for landlords, or, in accord- ance with its traditions, thinking that there must be this class, really made them such, especially in certain provinces, under the title of Zemindars. But many of the features of perpetual tenure were retained : for the land is mostly untransferable by sale or mortgage, and cannot be seized for private debts ; so that the people can, with comparative impunity, indulge their favourite passion for litigation. If the land-tax is not fixed in perpetuity, it is generally the same for long periods. The battle between the hall and the cottage — in which, so far, victory has gone to the hall in England, and to the cottage in France — has been drawn in Prussia. Until this century, the people there were in a deplorable condition ; burdened with some of the heaviest oppressions of Feudalism, which received its death-blow at the battle of Jena. First, the people were freed from the demands upon their labour; and after- wards, under Stein and Hardenberg, the land was freed from the oppressive claims of the landlord. Any hard- ship that might be felt, is diminished by the fact that estates are small in Prussia, there being only about a hundred rated above fifteen hundred a year. In Ger- many, the land is not compulsorily divided, but it cannot be tied up. One effect of the changes was, that whilst, between 1804 and 1841, the population of Prussia in- creased fifty per cent., the quantity of bread and meat consumed per head largely increased. The system of fixed rent prevails in Portugal; and also we find it in Westmoreland and Cumberland, amongst the " statesmen," so strongly praised by Wordsworth ; but it is in the north of Ireland that we The Upper Classes. 223 have the best instance of it, under the title of the Ulster Tenant Eight. By this system, the farms are granted to tenants at rents wliich are below the competitive value, and which are seldom, if ever, changed. The tenant is not allowed to divide or sublet, but he may sell the holding after giving proper notice ; the owner being allowed to buy it himself, if he wishes. The prac- tical result is, that rent is divided into two portions : the one fixed, which is payable to the landlord ; and the other varying according to the value of the land, and payable in a capitalised sum by the incoming to the outgoing tenant. So it is said that in Ireland, the present marketable value of the tenant's interest in the farms so held, amounts to fifty millions, exclusive of stock. The extension of this system is now very commonly advocated, but the objections to it must not be over- looked. In the first place, by whom are the rents to be fixed ? A Court of Arbitration is proposed ; but why should land be treated differently from anything else ? Experience shows that there is no method like com- petition, for getting at the value of anything ; and the spirit of the times is decidedly in favour of its exten- sion. This method is one of the first axioms of Free Trade ; and it is curious to find so many of those who consider themselves the most consistent supporters of that system, advocating the application to land of a plan which is directly opposed to their most cherished principles. We smile at the foolish and vain attempts of the Plantagenet and Tudor times, to fix by State decree the value of food and clothing, yet we are now asked to try the same experiment with land. 224 The Comixg Democracy. But even if such a Court could work properly, on what rule is it to act ? Is it to try to get at the real value, or only to fix a sum below this ? If the first, what good will it do the tenant ? And if the second, what j ustification can be given for such spoliation ? The landlords must be either the full owners of the land, or only part owners. If' they are the full owners of the land, they have a right to its proper value ; and if they are only part owners, let us honestly say what part they own, and then the difficulty will be arranged for all cases. But, plainly, there can be no consistency in first acknowledging them to be the full owners, and then arranging to deprive them of a part of the benefit of their property. If such a principle is to be recognised, there is no reason why it should not be applied to their whole benefit ; and why it should not also be extended to property of all kinds. The various attempts to limit by law the rate of interest, were steps in the same direction, but they are now universally condemned. It is hard to see how it can be right, or wise, to apply to land that principle which it is considered wrong and foolish to apply to money. But if it is agreed that rents shall be fixed below their value, we must next ask who will be the better for such an arrangement ? Plainly, only the tenants who happen to be in possession when this is made ; for these will make their successors pay a sum equivalent to the capitalised value of this difference. The law cannot propose to interfere with the liberty of making bargains ; nor can it prevent a farmer who is leaving a farm rented at fifty pounds, but worth eighty, from receiving a bonus from the next tenant. This tenant will then i The Upper Classes. 225 be no better off than if such a Court had never been constituted : for the farm will cost him the same rent ; only a part will be paid to the landlord, and the rest will go as interest for the sum expended to gain posses- sion. Such a change as this would evidently be only making a present of so much to the tenants who hap- pened to be in possession : and it is not easy to see why they should have this favour, any more than their pre- decessors or successors ; or, as a matter of fact, than their countrymen generally. If the landlords are to be robbed, the Coming Democracy will be inclined to think that the plunder should go to the nation as a whole, and not merely to a small class which has no special claims. But such a system would ultimately be worse than useless to the succeeding tenants ; for it would compel them to sink in the purchase of the right to a farm, a good deal of that capital which would be much more profitably employed in its cultivation. Nor can it be considered a democratic proceeding, to put up a barrier to farming, against all those who cannot find a consider- able sum beyond what is necessary for carrying on the Imsiness. The Coming Democracy will hardly be in favour of putting such a protective duty upon one of the most desirable, and necessary occupations. But there is yet another consideration to be taken into account. Such an arrangement may work whilst the value of land is rising, but how if it happens to fall ^ During the last half century we have been so accus- tomed to everything increasing in value, that we seem to take it for granted that the process must go on for ever. But any time it may have a check ; and it seems Q 226 The Coming Democracy. probable that this check, so far as land is concerned, will come very soon. Every cheapening in transit brings all the rest of the land of the world so much nearer our own : every improvement which makes carriage, by land or water, more economical or more rapid, must eventually diminish by so much the rents of English farms ; for no farmer who is growing what is grown elsewhere, can bear a rent exceeding that paid by the foreign produce, by more than the difference of cost in producing and bringing to market. With Free Trade the world becomes, so far as this goes, one country ; and we have seen before, that the laws of rent in this respect are invariable and inevitable. As the land which is so abundant that it pays no rent, and yet wdiich produces at least as well as our own, keeps creeping nearer to us, our rents must fall ; and it seems not at all improbable that at the end of the next fifty years, land in England may be worth no more than it was at the beginning of the last fifty. If perpetual tenure at fixed rents is to be established now, as proposed, who is to take the risk of this decline ? The tenants will not, beyond a certain point, for then they will run away ; and it seems unfair to expect the landlords to bear the fall, after we have deprived them of the benefit of the rise. Land, like everytliing else, is a speculative article, only its varia- tions move in longer periods ; and the Coming Demo- cracy is not likely to believe in applying to it, any more than to other things, the principle — " Heads I win, tails you lose." Besides, it has always to be borne in mind that the land is the only security which can be ultimately relied upon for the payment of the National Debt. If ever, The Upper Classes. 227 as must happen some day, the turn comes in the trade of England, from that moment all the property- invested in it, which constitutes the chief part of our wealth, will become almost worthless ; for mills, and foundries, and railways, and ships, and all the other appurtenances of production and distribution, however much they have cost, will have no value when they are merely implements of loss. There will ere long be some startling illustrations of this principle, in connec- tion with the large loans now being contracted by many manufacturing towns, for what are called " Corporation Improvements." The security offered is that of gas works, water works, and such undertakings, backed by the general rates : but what will be the value of works to make gas, when there is no one to burn it ; or to collect water, when there is no one to drink it ; and what will be the security of rates which there is no one to pay ? When the population of a town with a hundred thousand inhabitants, sinks to fifty thousand, these will quit that place as plague-stricken, finding themselves unable to bear its burdens : for people cannot be com- pelled to stay in a town ; and will not stay in one over- whelmed with debt, when they can free themselves by moving a few miles away. So we shall probably have repeated again the phenomenon of a whole town swarm- ing away, like bees, of which ancient history offers us many examples. The same applies to the case of a whole country ; except that, whilst for the debt of a town no assets at all may be left, for that of a country, there will always be the land to fall back upon. Land is the only thing which nearly always has some value, and which cannot be moved ; therefore it has to bear the Q 2 228 The Coming Democracy. ultimate responsibility of all the debts. Its owners therefore have a right to benefit when things are good, as they are the only people who cannot rnn away from the obligations of the nation. Having thus considered the various possible arrange- ments of tenure, we must in conclusion ask ourselves what the Coming Democracy will be likely to do in respect to the land ; and it seems probable that its ultimate course will be something of this sort : — If it does not prohibit entail altogether, it will un- doubtedly forbid it upon unborn children ; thus reducing the present possible time by twenty-one years. Even if it continues entail, it will greatly increase under it the power of sale, and the general rights and responsibilities of proprietorship. It will make compensation for improvements made by tenants more certain and liberal. It will protect tenants against being turned out arbi- trarily ; the only allowable causes being such as non- payment of rent, or injurious, or negligent, culture. It will not recognise the right of landlords to treat land on the principle of " doing what they like with their own." The rights of landlords will be diminished, and those of the community increased : so that no land will be allowed to remain waste which people are willing to cultivate ; and the compulsory powers of sale Avill be enlarged, so that no landlord wall be able to prevent land being acquired for desirable purposes. Also, these compulsory powers will probably be ex- tended so far as to enable tenants, who have fulfilled certain conditions, to purchase their farms at a price fairly settled. The Upper Classes. 229 The laws of real estate will be much more closely approximated to those which govern personal property, especially in connection with taxation or succession. Primogeniture, if not forbidden, will be no longer recognised in the absence of any other arrangement ; land, in the case of intestacy, being treated more like other property. Eeal estate will be disposed of, like personal, to pay debts. The preferential claims of landlords will be modified. The transfer of land will be made much more simple, cheap, and certain : either by a compulsory sys- tem of registration, or in some other way ; so that small purchasers will be put to little expense, and yet be able to obtain certainty of title. Probably a system of compulsory registration will be adopted, under the supervision of the State ; on the principle of that which has now been in operation in Belgium nearly twenty years, and which yields a revenue to the nation, whilst giving full security to the purchasers. Such a system of registration would considerably increase the value of land ; which in England is kept out of the market, not only by its dearness, but also by its inaccessibility. Democracies are invariably intolerant of legal subtleties, so that the complex system of land law in England is sure to be roughly handled. This is a Gordian knot which the Democracy will be more likely to cut than to take the trouble of untying. But the most important change will probably be that land will be taxed, not only more heavily than now, but so much more as to establish a new prin- ciple — namely that of the ultimate State ownersliip of 2 30 The Coming Democracy. all the land. This principle is practically being acted upon now in the United States of America : taxation being levied upon the farmer, by the method of Protec- tion, to pay off the national debt, and to benefit the manufacturing interest ; so that a farmer in New York State, owning two hundred acres of freehold and farm- ing it himself, can barely now keep himself in very spare comfort. So the Democracy of England will not be disposed, if only for the sake of convenience, to refuse to acknowledge a modified landlordism ; but it will be firmly convinced that, beyond all this, the land of a country belongs to its people by a right which no legal arrangements, or liistorical sequences, can ever annul. This right will probably be asserted by making the land much more a source of national revenue than it has ever been before. The taxation of it will be raised on three distinct grounds. Firstly, because it is now too low, even if land were merely like other property ; for the present taxation is no equivalent for the feudal burdens from which the owners have been released. Secondly, because land is not like other property ; but belongs to the nation as well as to the landlords. Tliirdly, because it ought to be put into the category of articles of luxury, which always bear extra taxation ; for as Dr. Johnson said, much of the benefit of a morning walk depends upon its being on one's own land. Speaking of the prospect as a whole, we may say that the Coming Democracy will not be likely to take up the land question with the idea of establishing any par- ticular system of tenure, but only of clearing away what- ever obstacles prevent the free play of natural prin- ciples. This has been the method of nearly all the so- The Upper Classes. 231 called Eeforms of modern times; for they have simply removed restrictions, and should rather have been called Eeleases. Thus the establishment of Free Trade was merely the removal of restrictions, placed at different times, upon the importation of corn and other articles ; and the various Eeform Bills have merely been the removal of restrictions, placed at different times, upon voting. JSTo such means can bring us to a freer con- dition than that primitive one, when there were no Custom Houses, and every man who could fight, could vote. If we looked simply at legislation, we should be inclined to accept the ideal of the poets of antiquity, that man started at the top, in a state of perfection, and that his course has since been downwards ; for the chief " Eeforms " of each generation have consisted in removing the blunders of its predecessors. Ideality is not a strong quality of the English mind, and will not exercise much influence in this matter. Besides, we have to remember that, after all, in a little country like England, the land question cannot affect, as far as the people can under- stand, more than a small portion of the population. The masses of the large towns, in whose hands will chiefly lie the threads of destiny, can never feel them- selves aggrieved by the land laws ; and therefore will never be embittered against them. They will pro- bably not take the trouble to understand them ; and unless their feelings are roused against the landlords, for some other reason, they may prefer to leave matters as they are, much longer than is generally supposed. For democracies have this peculiarity, that they are very conservative or very revolutionary ; revolutionary about some things, conservative about the rest. As nothing 232 The Coming Democracy. can be done without stirring public opinion, and as this is a very slow process, only a few questions can come under its operation. The rest are left much more alone than would happen if the governing influence were less popular, and therefore more easily moved. There is, then, a circle within which democratic activity is most intense ; and without which, it is almost imperceptible. On which side of the line the land question will be found, depends as much upon the conduct of the land- lords as upon the laws of the land. If such changes as have been thought probable are really made, their effects will be very considerable upon the general national life. In any case, it seems almost certain that the importance of what is called the landed class must proportionately decline. If all the changes were carried out, the abolition of an hereditary peerage would not necessarily follow, for certain estates might be made to run wath certain titles ; but such a position would mean a great decline of influence. These classes owe their chief power to the independence and certainty of their position ; they have, more successfully than was ever managed before, guarded themselves against the proverbial tendency of riches, to take wings and fly away. If a spendthrift turns up, he may dissipate the accumulations of wealth, but he cannot dispose of its means ; these must be handed down to the next gene- ration, which has thus the chance of restoring the fortunes of the family. Thus historical continuity is not broken, but the same traditions are carried forward through various ups and downs ; as a ship ploughs its way across a stormy sea, now riding on the crest of the waves, now buried in their troughs. So, even though the inter- The Upper Classes. 233 vening generation may have been common-place, or worse, no sooner does a fit successor come forward to such names as those of Cecil and Ashley, of Stanley and Russell, than he steps at once into the heritage of his illustrious forefathers, and into the possession of much of their influence. A class which is hereditarily wealthy and learned, must always rule if it is sufficiently nume- rous and capable ; and these qualifications have hitherto been the exclusive possession of the landlord class. Large fortunes may be built up by trade, but they may also fall down again, without hope of recovery ; great names may be acquired by professions, but their dis- tinctive influences cannot be inherited, and always come too late to have much effect in other spheres. If such changes are made in the land laws as will allow the inheritor of a great estate at any time to break it to pieces, the chief claim of this class will have gone ; for then all estates must, sooner or later, suffer this fate, since such an inheritor wdll come to every estate, if we only wait long enough. That some change in this direction will be made seems almost certain, and therefore some decline in the power of the Upper Classes is equally certain. How far this will go, it is impossible to say ; probably it may go so far as eventually to eliminate this class almost entirely from political life. Or w^e may repeat tlie experiences of Rome ; where the aristocrats, after being steadily gained upon by the plebeians, through the Licinian Laws and other changes, almost disappeared as subjects, to rise up again as despots. In the meantime, these changes must exercise a very considerable effect. It may still be a matter of opinion 234 The Coming Democracy. whether this effect will be injurious, as we are told that when the Athenians destroyed the Areopagus, their State lost its fair proportions ; but it cannot be a matter of opinion whether it will be considerable, for a great class — a class which has been the greatest ever since the birth of the nation — cannot be weakened, to say nothing of being displaced, without very positive effects. Whether these will be advantageous or not to the nation generally, is a question which must not be dis- cussed here. We may find, after all, that Aristotle was right in his opinion that the best Democracy is where there are many agricultural citizens with little leisure for politics, and that the worst is where there is a large citizen class. We may, however, guard against the dangers of nearly every form of Constitution if we look rather to the character of the people than to the details of the laws. The highest state is one in which the people do, of their own accord, that which the best laws would compel them to do ; and this state we may strive after under all circumstances. ( 235 ) CHAPTEE II. THE MIDDLE CLASSES. The Middle Classes differ radically from the Upper Classes, inasmuch as that upon which they depend can- not be subject, in anything like the same degree, to the action of political influence. The Upper Classes owe their position chiefly to their possession of land ; so that if the character of this possession is seriously altered, the nature of their position must be correspondingly affected. For however our unworldly enthusiasm may make us at times kick against such a prick, the goad of earthly necessity will persist in pressing us on from behind. No doubt we all like to think of a condition in which men will exercise an influence proportioned solely to their intellectual and moral character : we are always saying to ourselves that the best man should be at the top, and so on down to the bottom ; we are always plan- ning arrangements by which worth, and worth only, shall determine position, and be that " guinea stamp " wliich is fixed only by what a man is, as a man. This desire has been, in all ages of the world, the chief im- pulse driving nations towards Democracy ; for men have always been prone to believe that a formof government free from the restraints of rank, and throwing open its places to all, must make everybody find his proper level. 236 The Coming Democracy. But, alas ! experience has never yet justified this expec- tation, and it does not seem likely that it ever will on this side of Arcadia ; so that if we are ever to rise to such " higher things " it will have to be " On stepping-stones of our dead selves," — those selves which, as yet, are the most living forces in politics. For the way to the realisation of this ideal is sternly barred by one of the strongest of our selfish instincts ; namely, the desire for money. Part of tliis desire is of course needful, for whether or not " women must weep," it is certain that " men must work," as long as they and their wives and children have to be fed and clothed and sheltered, and they must work for this, before they work for anything else. If such work re- quires all their time and energy, then, however great may be their natural gifts, their country can never use, or even know, them. This barrier is more impassable in politics even than in literature ; for men who are fixed to daily toil, may often acquire considerable intellectual attainments, and even renown : ploughmen have become poets ; shepherds, astronomers ; artisans, scientists and philosophers ; but no man, obliged continu- ously to gain his bread by the sweat of his brow, has ever risen to abiding eminence in politics. Such men may sometimes flit, like meteors, across the political heaven, but they can never remain in, and light it, like stars. Daily toil, if at all hard, is always a burden, and one which is as much as most men can carry, even on the level roads of everyday life ; though there are rare spirits who find such a burden bracing, as the strongest walkers may get on better with a knapsack. Such spirits. The Middle Classes. 237 thus braced, may sometimes manage to scale the heights of Parnassus, but they can never climb far up the slopes of political power. The needs of material life, no doubt, do keep many Miltons " mute and inglorious," but now and then one does, in spite of these, find voice and fame ; but no Pitt, or Burke, or Peel, can ever rise from sucH a bondage. This necessity has hitherto been the great strength of the Upper Classes, for they alone have been free from it. And in politics, as in life generally, men are always certain to over-estimate the importance of the possession of that, the acquisition of which is, in some degree, forced upon all. Thus avarice finds its principal encouragement in the necessity to which we are all subject, to have money in some degree ; and in the fact that this necessity is the chief reality in life, to the great majority of the people, we find the reason why this majority gives so much of its admiration to those who are above this necessity. And the admiration increases with the extent and cer- tainty of this freedom ; so that the large landlords, who have had the pre-eminence in these respects, have there- fore had the pre-eminence in that admiration wliich is the basis of political power. This explains what must otherwise be inexplicable ; for not the most ardent admirer of the nobility can suppose that to personal merit alone is due the fact that, on an average, half of our Cabinet Ministers have come from a class numbering about a thousand, whilst the remaining millions have contributed only the other half. Therefore any change in the law which weakens the hold of the Upper Classes upon the land, or diminishes their income from it, will proportionately lessen their 238 The Coming Democracy. political power. A poor or landless aristocracy will never count for much in England, as it has not in France, since the Eevolution. Indeed it would probably count for next to nothing, since " fallen greatness," like that of Lucifer, never rises again : he who is low after being high, soon finds " none so poor to do him rever- ence." Thus it is a true instinct which makes the land- lords cling to their social privileges, for these are the charters of their political power; if these are swept away, peers will soon count for little more than peasants, in affairs of State. And no facing about can avert this inevitable fate : young aristocrats may become stock- brokers, or merchants, or manufacturers, but they cannot thus save more than themselves ; nor can they do this otherwise than by becoming merged in another class. Ko such flank movements can help the aristocracy as a class ; for its political position depends upon its relation to the land, and so must be affected by every alteration in the land laws. Therefore it will be within the power of the Coming Democracy to practically eliminate from the community of the future, those whom we now de- scribe as the Upper Classes ; for not only may the land upon which they stand be knocked from under them, but also those other occupations, as the Army and the Church, with which these classes have hitherto been chiefly associated, may be, and indeed are being, gradually thrown open equally to all. Besides, the advantages they have enjoyed in regard to these oc- cupations, arising from their command of means and leisure, will be diminished by every restriction of those means, and by every consequent necessity diminishing the possibility of that leisure. The Middle Classes. " 239 How far the Democracy will go in this direction is, of course, doubtful, but so much is certain, that suffi- cient changes will be made in the land laws to diminish very considerably that social and political pre-eminence which the Upper Classes have hitherto enjoyed. All the chief tendencies of the' Democracy are also working in the same direction ; so that the total result may cause a greater change in the aspect of English society, and in the balance of political parties, than is now generally expected. Such a change will, of course, be gradual ; for in a country like ours, laws are generally changed slowly, and always the effects of their change are very slowly felt. This often causes men to under-estimate such effects : they see that, after a change about which much was prophesied, things go on almost as before ; and so they jump to the conclusion that this change will not make much difference. But the processes of Nature will not be hurried to suit our curiosity : the laws of causa- tion in great matters always work slowly, but they are certain to work themselves out eventually ; we can no more escape from the full effects of the changes we make, than we can get out of the reach of the force of gravita- tion. Just so far as the position of the landlords is affected, wall their influence be ultimately diminished : for that influence must depend upon either their posi- tion, or their character ; and no one can supjjose that in character, except so far as it is affected by position, the landlords are different from the rest of the people. A man may have quite a proper appreciation of the qualities of the English aristocracy, and yet refuse to believe that in blood, or brains, its members are characteristically distinguished from the rest of their countrymen. 240 The Coming Democracy. As to the length to which the Democracy will go, more depends upon the temper of the people than upon the logic of the questions involved, for democracies are more influenced by feelings than by arguments. The same truth applies to the Middle Classes ; and therefore it is important to consider what is the temper, towards these Classes, of those masses who will soon chiefly de- termine the action of the Coming Democracy. But first, who are the Middle Classes ? They may be said to comprise all who stand between the Upper Classes and the working masses. These may roughly be arranged in the three divisions of professional men, pro- ducers, and distributors. The first division lies outside our consideration ; except to remark, that in case such an elimination of the present Upper Classes as has been thought possible occurs, the professional men will pro- bably step into their place. For every nation must have an Upper Class ; gradations of rank, with somebody at the top, are an essential of every civilised community ; as if two men ride on a horse, one must be in front. And the qualifications seem always to range themselves in this order : first comes property, standing on an assured basis, wliich can only be land ; next comes culture, with professional skill ; and lastly comes property standing on any other basis than land, as trade, commerce, or invested savings. Mere property, apart from its basis, has never been able long to stand first ; and hence the trading portion of the Middle Classes has always been compelled to yield the pre-eminence to the professional portion. At first sight, there seems nothing to account for this in the nature of things ; for no one can suppose that The Middle Classes. 241 a lawyer, or an editor, is likely to find a higher discipline in his occupation than the man who conducts a large business. But, when we look further, we find several reasons for this phenomenon. In the first place, the education required for a profes- . sion constitutes a decided demarcation. Education, like love, must be had when we are young, or never. We all admire a man who, in later life, strives to make up for the deficiencies of his youth ; and perhaps the sight of such a struggle is that which most pleases the Gods. But they are pleased because the struggle is brave, and not because it can be successful. Perhaps we like to think that divine favours, unlike our human ones, most attend that which can have the least alloy of apparent success. Here, then, is a case admirably suited to such smiles, for its hopelessness is complete. The man so struggling may, and does, gain something far better than the thing for which he is striving, but that thing itself is inevitably out of his reach ; for we may as well try to grow in winter the produce which belongs only to summer, as hope to do in middle life that which re- quires the faculties and freshness of youth. Any one who has made the attempt, does not need tlie Greek tragedies to tell him how little the best intentions, and most heroic efforts, can avail against the neglects of the past, or the decrees of fate. Here, then, is one great advantage which professional men have over the rest of the Middle Classes ; that a cer- tain amount of education (very little, it is true, but still sufficient for the purpose), must be acquired by them, at a time of life when such education can serve its pur- pose. It may be said, however, that the general spread R 242 The Coming Democracy. of culture is quickly abolishing this advantage ; for now business men, of all sorts, are giving their sons the best education which money can buy. Here we touch the larger question, too large to l)e treated here, of how much education is consistent with the successful pur- suit of business. It is no doubt pleasant to think of shopkeepers refreshing themselves with French or Ger- man ; and of merchants and manufacturers finding relief in the delights of poetry or philosophy ; but will it work ? We must remember what are the necessities of success in business. Universal experience has shown that amongst these must be included great concentra- tion, continuous application, and an absurdly exag- gerated idea of one's om'u importance, and of the value of success. It has been said that he is the happiest man who has made success in life his object, who has won it, and who has died before having had time to find out that it was not worth the trouble. But education amounts, more or less, to such a finding-out ; it brings in new ideas, and so weakens that belief in, and enjoy- ment of, the old occupation which seems essential to success in business. If man may not put asunder what God has joined, neither may he join what God has put asunder ; and it is hard to see how the wolf and fox can be combined with the poet and philosopher. The face of a business-man will lose its necessary vigour and keenness, if it becomes " Sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought : " and business " enterprises of great pith and moment " will " With this respect their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action." The Middle Classes. 243 And the hope seems vain that that may be realised in the future, which has been found impossible in the past : for the tendency of the world is to make compe- tition in business more keen ; and therefore to require, for success in it, more attention and concentration. The days of monopolies are getting over ; and so it seems likely that business-men will have to give, in the future, more devotion than ever to their business. It may be that they will spend less time over it : but it is of the drain of mental energy that we have to think ; and it is probably true, that there never was a time when busi- ness men were less disposed, or could be less expected, to give their leisure to intellectual occupations. The hurry and excitement of modern life are inconsistent with that c[uietness of mind, without which study is neither profitable nor pleasant : and there is less hope of intellectual culture for the man who spends eight hours a day at business, amid railway journeys, and constant mails and telegrams, than there was for the man who remained at it twelve hours, but had only one post a day, and perhaps made his journeys in a canal- barge. We live in an age which understands the art of intellectual window-dressing, so that all our knowledge is made the most of ; but we must not let social superfi- ciality, and newspaper garrulity, blind us to the fact that there probably has not, during this century, been a time when there was less sober study. Excitement needs ex- citement as its antidote, for here the homceopathic rule of similia similibus holds good. So to give our sons a taste, and then to plunge them in a life wliich forbids its gratification, is to inflict upon them, undeservedly, the R 2 244 The Coming Democracy. fate of Tantalus. Too many have found in this connec- tion that " A little knowledge is a dangerous thing," at any rate, for success in business ; and it seems only too inexorable a decree of fate, that young men must " Drink deep, or taste not, the Pierian spring." If once their eyes catch sight of " that immortal sea," they will never again settle down as steadily in their own little valley, but will always have ringing in their ears the alluring music of those " mighty waters rolling evermore." So if we aim at an education higher than is consis- tent with success in business, we do not raise the Middle Class, but we only drive its best men from the business portion into the professional. At any rate, it seems clear that we cannot abolish the superiority be- longing to the professions in this respect, nor deprive them of their inheritance to the position of the Upper Classes, if the Coming Democracy should depose its pre- sent possessors. Another reason for this is to be found in the fact, that the professions are concerned with matters which are most mysterious to the masses of the people, and yet most intimately connected with their higher wel- faxe. Everybody knows something of business, and mere differences of degree count for little ; but literature, law, theology, and medicine, must always, in their practice, be caviare to the multitude. They have no experience of rising into these, whilst they constantly see men of their own sort becoming amalgamated with the business classes. Ignorance is the mother, if not of The Middle Classes. 245 worship, at any rate of that respect which often passes for it, and which is the foundation of most of the deference of the world. Mystery is the chief secret of power over the masses, and the professions have the best of this. Law has, in this respect, especial advan- tages ; for the people always feel, in an indefinite way, that somehow order and security depend upon law ; and so they always look to its professors for the preservation of these. Hence, in what are called superstitious ages, when men are believed to be ruled by a divine law, we find officers of the Church at the head of the State ; whilst in times like our own, power has always a tendency to get into the hands of those administering our human laws. Democracies are particularly liable to fall under this rule : for they never meddle with laws, because they never understand them ; and so they leave them, and consequently the chief functions of the State, to the sole control of the initiated. Thus when a na- tion has no Upper Class sufficiently educated to under- stand, and sufficiently powerful to interfere, its cliief influence falls to the professions, and especially to that of the law ; as has been seen frequently in history, and notably in our own times in France and the United States of America. The Coming Democracy will bring about this consummation in proportion as its changes may weaken the power of the Upper Classes. Literature seems likely, in future, to share with law the participation of this power ; and so for our purpose these two may be bracketed. The great extension of reading, and of the influence of print, has immensely increased the power of those who write. This power must take a political direction, even in the hands of the 246 The Coming Democracy. best sort of writers ; for in democracies there is always a tendency — and has alvv^ays been since the days of Athens — for authors to be regarded as the elite of the community. So, though the necessities of the highest literary work preclude much political activity, it is found that success in this work is very apt to be fol- lowed by political distinction. Thus, in spite of the obstinacy with which the best literary class in the United States holds itself aloof from politics, it fre- quently happens that its most distinguished members are chosen for high office, especially to represent their nation in foreign countries. But it is chiefly into the hands of the lower literary classes that increased poli- tical power is likely to fall, under the Coming Demo- cracy. For the masses are the most taken by those who supply them with thoughts, or find suitable expres- sion for their own thoughts ; or, which is perhaps the most welcome service of all, make their feelings and prejudices sound like thoughts. Here comes in the great office of the newspapers ; which are rapidly, for the bulk of the people, supplying the place of their own minds. No political phenomenon of our time is more striking, or more painful, than the manifest decay of independent political thought. Men are more and more ranging themselves in servile parties ; each of which accepts without question its own set of watchwords, and rejects without reflection those of its opponents. These watchwords, if not originated by the newspapers, are generally put into circulation by them ; and then run all along the line, like military commands. Instead of being wells of living water, men are more and more becoming mere conveying pipes ; so that as the value The Middle Classes. 247 of water is not increased by the distance it has travelled, neither does an opinion become worth more because of the number who repeat it. Here is one of the radical weaknesses of democracies, which are always more guided by the statistics of opinions than by their value. The conduct of large constituencies shows us that the pro- verb about safety and a multitude of counsellors, does not necessarily hold when those counsellors are merely voters. But if the numbers who repeat an opinion do not increase its truth, they undoubtedly strengthen its influence where a country is ruled by numbers. There fore in such a country every democratic change adds to the power of the few who start opinions, and who generally belong to what are here called the literary classes. Thus, " The Fourth Estate " is not only likely to become a sharer, with the other three, in political power, but it may even, under the Coming Democracy, eventually occupy the first place. Before we can form an idea of the probable future, under the Coming Democracy, of the remaining portions of the Middle Classes, we must consider what is the present state of feeling amongst the masses towards these classes. For it must always be borne in mind that, after all, the destiny of such matters is in the hands of the masses ; and that these masses are more ruled by feelings than by reasons. It is not easy to estimate rightly the effects of the trading portion of the Middle Classes upon our modern civilisation ; for we are as yet too near these effects to judge them with historical fairness. Physically they have undoubtedly been great ; for we owe to the Middle Classes most of that which in these days we call pro- 248 The Coming Democracy. gress. During little more than liaK a century, dating from the close of the Napoleonic wars, there has grown up a new power in England, which for some time has been supreme. Of course there has always been a Middle Class ; but during the last two generations, this term has received an extension which amounts to a new meaning. The utilisation of steam, electricity, and other freshly appropriated powers; the extension of commerce, following from the consolidation of the British Empire ; the invention of many processes increasing the productiveness, and decreasing the cost, of manufactures ; the discovery of coal-beds, and other facilities of produc- tion ; the adoption of many arrangements for quickening and simplifying the transactions of trade : all these, and many other new developments, concurring with general prosperity all over the world, have worked what amounts to little less than a transformation in the physical con- dition of this country. Population has greatly multi- plied ; small villages have growTi into large towns, and large towns into huge cities ; luxury has developed, so that comforts which were the rare privilege of the few, have become the common property of the many ; wealth lias increased, so that thousands now spend more than could formerly be afforded by hundreds ; fine houses and gardens, splendid streets and shops, handsome car- riages and rich dresses, with multitudes of trades to satisfy new wants, and of professions to minister to new tastes, besides all the other signs of material progress, have made their appearance on every side. Eip Van "Winkle's astonishment at the changes which had taken place during his long sleep, could not exceed that of our great grandfathers were they to return The Middle Classes. 249 and compare the England of their day with that of ours. Nor must it be forgotten that, together with these changes, there have been others still more pleasant to dwell upon. Opportunities of reading have been greatly extended ; books and newspapers are many times more numerous ; taste has not only been much improved, but good taste is also much more extensively understood and obeyed; social activity has so increased that all sorts of Societies have been formed for amusement and culture; and intellectual zeal has so warmed, that everywhere Institutions and arrangements have sprung up for the instruction of all sorts of people in all sorts of knowledge ; whilst public intelligence has become so much more vigorous and keen, that the masses of the people are ahead of the select few of former times in information about current events, and interest about political changes. Education has become so general, that the ignorance of fifty years ago sounds almost mythical ; and travelling has become so common, that our noto- rious insular prejudices are being replaced by a cosmo- politanism which has been always one of the cherished dreams of philosophy. And it must be added that all these material and social changes have been accompanied by corresponding moral progress. Habits have improved in decency and temperance ; the sense of moral responsibility has been quickened and elevated ; and the feeling of brotherhood has become so much stronger, and more practical, that now not zeal, but only discretion, is wanting for the support of all sorts of movements to improve the people, physically and spiritually. Hospitals for sickness. 250 The Coming Democracy. homes for convalescence, asylums for poverty, schools for ignorance, have sprung up on every side ; municipal enterprise has laid out good thoroughfares and parks, and carried gas and water into every house ; whilst social philanthropy has worked most zealously, to raise the condition of the masses, and to alleviate the miseries of the poor. And charitable activity has been attended by religious enthusiasm ; so that the attempts after the " pure religion and imdefiled " have not stopped at visiting " the fatherless and widows in their affliction," but have led to many efforts to help men in keeping themselves " unspotted from the world." Churches and Chapels, with all the organisations connected with them, have multiplied on every hand ; and there probably never was a time when all the outward signs that are believed to indicate religious activity, were so numerous or so strong. And all these changes, if not due to the Middle Classes, have been chiefly supported by them ; and at least have occurred whilst society has been subject to what we may call Middle-Class rule. If there is any gratitude, then, in the human heart, we should say that there must be, amongst the masses of the people, great respect for these Middle Classes, and great admiration of their influence. Is this so ? Those who know most of of the real feelings of the people, will feel themselves most compelled to give a negative answer. Somehow^ between these Middle Classes and the masses " there is a great gulf fixed ; " not of non-passability, but of non- sympathy ; and this gulf is the cause of many of the most obstinate difficulties of our modern civilisation. Circumstances necessarily separate classes so widely The Middle Classes. 251 that they are almost like distinct nations to each other; and we all know how difficult, almost impos- sible, it is to make one nation appreciate what is done for it by another. Thus England is honestly trying to improve the condition of the people of India ; and yet it is more than probable that the very efforts which we believe calculated to do most good, are just those which are most resented. The same holds good between different classes of the same nation ; though perhaps in a less degree, yet sufficiently to upset all our calculations of probabilities. No man can under- stand another ; so that often what is done and said with the best intentions, causes the most mischief. Thus the pliilanthropic efforts of one class often provoke irrita- tion, or at any rate fail to rouse gratitude, in another class, for whose benefit they are chiefly intended. To solve the enigma we must go back to the Gospel secret, wliich teaches us that it is not kindness which begets gratitude, but love : affection can only be roused by affection ; and men's hearts are never won by the services we do for them, however great these may be, but only by the feelings we have for them, however small may be their expressions. Here is a case in which the cup of cold water does not go without its reward, if given " in the name of the Lord ; " that is, in the spirit of unselfish affection ; wliilst the richest banquet, given in any other spirit, cannot win the slightest return. We seem, then, forced to face the unwelcome fact that the masses do not believe that the Middle Classes really care for them as much as they think they do, or as the efforts they make in their behalf would seem to indicate. In the hearts of the people there is a dis- 252 The Coming Democracy. trust, perhaps unrecognised, certainly seldom expressed, but nevertheless very real, of all the philanthropic efforts of the Middle Classes ; and therefore these classes cannot win the affection they believe they deserve, charm they never so wisely. One reason is to be found in that stubborn independ- ence of the English nature, which is nowhere so strong as amongst the masses. Englishmen hate having things " done for " them, hence the failure of so many move- ments for the good of the working classes. Working men who can be made anything of, are sure to be the first to kick against everything which seems to savour of patronising, or to suggest that they are not quite able to take care of themselves. All that they want, and all that they will accept, is to have what they think they are entitled to ; and, unless they get tliis, everything else which is offered only provokes their opposition and increases their irritation. Indeed, it is according to the radical principles of human nature to resent gifts whose motive is doubted ; for the man who thinks he has been deprived of a shilling, which was his right, is sure to be more vexed when a penny is offered him as a present. The plain fact is, that the masses do not believe that the Middle Classes have let them have their fair share of the prosperity of the country. It may be quite true that, during the last forty years, the United Kingdom has increased in population by seven millions ; that its foreign trade is threefold what it was ; and that its revenue is half as much again ; whilst the consumption per head of many articles of regular use may have wonder- fully extended ; yet, somehow, we do not find the signs The Middle Classes. 253 which we should expect to accompany such flattering statistics. The only question that the people care to ask is, whether they themselves are as much better off as they ought to be ? And who, that knows anything of our large towns, can dare to offer an affirmative answer? Of course we cannot put, side by side, two successive stages of civilisation ; neither can any single generation compare, in memory, conditions which have extended over half a century : but if we think of the state of the people before this advent of prosperity, as we learn of it from the tales of our grandfathers, and from books, and other sources, and then look about us now, we cannot feel satisfied ourselves. People who get up tables of statistics, may produce pleasant impressions, by giving only favourable facts ; but such a process is neither true nor artistic, for here the old doctrine holds good, as ex- pressed by Keats, that " Beauty is truth, truth beauty." Figures, like history, may be made to prove anything ; and so may be utterly false, without saying anything untrue. We all know how different a picture may be produced from the same outlines, accordingly as we shade up or shade down ; and no true impression can be produced if we omit the shadows, and only give the lights, even though these lights may be all correct in themselves. So if we are to gain a true impression of the condition of the people, we must have more than statistics of comparative consumption ; we must know the conditions under which this consumption goes on ; and we must know also the comparison of the lot of the class we are considering with that of other classes. 254 The Coming Democracy. And when we come to look at absolute condition, a good deal of the brightness begins to fade from the picture. It may be true that more of what are called " the luxuries " of life find their way into the houses of the people ; but surely open breezes, and a clear atmosphere, and accessibility of green fields and woods, are as well worth calling luxuries, as tea and coffee and butter; for even children are taught in their nursery rhymes that " sugar and spice " do not include " all that's nice." Though money comes in at the door, most that can make that money worth having may fly out at the window : and this seems to have happened to the masses of the workpeople ; for towns have grown larger, and dirtier, and more crowded, so that the healthy conditions of life have become more difficult, and the happy recreations of N"ature more inaccessible. Loco- motion may be cheap, and more general ; but there is not much good in that, if it can only take us, within reasonable distances, to smoke-stained fields, and leaf- less trees, and polluted streams. Besides, our lives get their tone from that which we live with regularly, rather than from that which we may look at occasion- ally. Enjoyments, to be worth anything to the masses, must be cheap and handy ; and it is just these which our modern progress has driven away. Like the starving traveller in the desert, who was disgusted when what he thought was a bag of corn turned out to be only full of pearls, so the British Workman may not think much of higher wages, when these can no longer buy what will make life pleasant. It is no great gain to find the " stalled ox " instead of the " dinner of herbs," if in the exchange we have lost the " content " without ._ J The Middle Classes. 255 which nothing can have a relish. The world just now seems to think that the growth of manufactures is the best fortune of nations ; but the belief must be shaken in those who reflect that the price to be paid includes increased dirtiness to our towns, increased unhealthi- ness to our people, and increased ugliness to life gener- ally. It may be true that this is only one instance of the law, that all great advantages have to be paid for in blood, in one way or other ; but that does not reconcile, or rather satisfy, those who have to pay the price. They may think that less should have come out of them, and more out of others. And even as to the increase of wages, the gain is nut so clear ; for when we take into account the altered value of money, we do not find an advance proportioned to the generally understood development of prosperity. It is true that more of certain articles can be bought ; but that is rather through the special decrease of their price, from re-arrangements of taxation, than through the general increase of purchasing power. The Middle Classes have certainly no right to claim credit, on the score of gene- rosity, for changes which have been at least equally advantageous to themselves ; especially when in other matters, as houses, furniture, and the like, the people seem to be very little better off. There is, also, one disadvantage in this increase of population, which the people feel most keenly ; and that is, the intensified pressure of competition. Things may go on smoothly whilst the demand for labour is in- creasing, but the shoe pinches painfully as soon as this begins to diminish. Little comfort can be got from the reflection that there is the Poor-Law to fall back upon ; 256 The Coming Democracy. as this is, to the deserving unfortunate, a cold and lame substitute for that neighbourly sympathy which the crowding and restlessness of modern life have done so much to destroy. Nor is relief to be found in the chilly axioms of Political Economy ; for the man who has hard work to earn a maintenance, will not be much helped by being told that he ought never to have been born. The Malthusian doctrine may be in accordance with the law of the sins of the fathers being visited upon the children, but those children can find in it no assistance for their own work ; and that is what they want just now. The Middle-Class gospel of Supply-and- Demand may become mere brutality when applied too far to human beings, for a man is more than a machine ; and, even as a machine, he takes a quarter of a century to make properly. Trades vary so rapidly, that no demand may be found for machines, when completed, which were much wanted at the commencement ; and thus we see that the common rules of business will not apply, for men are not machines which can be broken up, or put aside in neglect. And it takes much less to bring about this hardship than is generally sup- posed ; for a slight decline in trade turns the point between there being too much labour and too little, and then competition works swiftly. The hardship itself is also unique in its painfulness ; for there is no terror comparable to that of starvation. Competition also tells upon the Middle Classes ; but there is a great difference between the fear of having to live upon less, and that of not being able to live at all. Whilst this prosperity has not so greatly improved the condition of the masses absolutely, their condition seems The Middle Classes. 257 to be much worse when it is looked at comparatively. And the sting of a lot lies mostly in such a com- parison: for privation which may be borne cheerfully when it is general, becomes unendurable if special ; and prosperity which may seem great, if equal, becomes des- picable, if that of others has been unreasonably greater. And certainly in this modern progress, the Middle Classes seem to have had decidedly the best part of the dish. If the division has been according to the principles of one and one, this has been carried out rather as the clown divides the fishes in the pantomime — taking every time one of the biggest for himself, and giving the pantaloon a little one, so that the total shares of each are very different. The Middle Classes have not merely been improved by this prosperity, but have practically been made by it, for their social condition has been revolu- tionised, so that they compete with the Upper Classes in the extravagancies of luxury. Greenhouses, rich equipages, costly pictures, and all the other paraphernalia of wealth, have come plentifully into the possession of multitudes of men whose grandfathers never dreamt of such things. Of course all this is not in itself to be regretted, for if these things are good for any one, the more that can get them the better ; but the question is whether, whilst certain classes have been reaping such rewards, the other classes, M'hich have equally con- tributed to this prosperity, have likewise been getting their fair share. It seems as if we must confess, that they have not ; and at any rate, it is certain that this is their own opinion. Nor is it any mitigation to say that tliis distribution has proceeded according to laws which are inevitable ; s 258 The Coming Democracy, and therefore beyond the government, and so beyond the responsibility, of any class. We are all ready to believe that arrangements which suit us, are founded on inevitable principles ; but those whom they do not suit, are equally ready to believe that they may be altered. This is likely to be the feeling of the Coming Democracy ; and this feeling is likely to cause serious attempts at change. And even if these do not succeed, the temper of the Lower Classes towards the Middle Classes will not on that account be improved, but will manifest itself in other directions. Tor this temper, if originally caused by circumstan- ces following from natural laws, has been intensified by certain mistakes of the Middle Classes. The greatest of these has been that fashion of suburbanism which has lately become so general. Formerly, business men were accustomed to live where their business was carried on ; tradesmen over their shops, manufacturers in their mill-yards, and merchants near their offices. But now we have changed all that. The Middle Classes have everywhere made an exodus into suburbs ; so that business men only rush into the towns for a few hours each day, keeping their families outside, in genteel seclusion. No doubt many reasons of health may be alleged, but these are greatly over-estimated ; whilst it is certain that the sanitary result, to the community as a whole, has been disastrous. If the Middle Classes had remained in the towns, they would, with their wealth and energy, and the power which they have wielded so long, soon have made these towns pleasant places to live in, so that all would have been benefited. But instead of staying to do battle with the evils resulting from The Middle Classes. 259 that prosperity of which they have received the lion's share, they have retreated ; only coming in to receive the benefits, and lea\ing the masses to bear alone the dis- advantages. The cottou-spinner who sends forth smoke, and the engineer who sends forth noises ; the chemist who poisons the air with smells, and the printer who poisons the water with pollution ; all these run away to distant homes, in which they have ensconced their fami- lies ; and so neither remain to share, nor attempt to cure, the nuisances resulting from the means by which they make their money. It may be said that they do their part in increasing the wealth of the country, and the size of the towns ; but the Coming Democracy will be apt to wonder what is the advantage of there being more people, if these people themselves are not better off. It is no comfort to the smoked and crowded workmen to be told that the number of those who are in the same state, has doubled in some wonderfully short time. Unless the conditions of a life are fairly satisfactory, we should think that the fewer who have to put up with them, the better. And in obedience to that great law, which makes every violation of the just claims of human brotherliood carry with it its own punishment, these retreating Middle Classes are now suffering the penalties of their desertion from the post of social duty. They have built them- selves suburban villas of all sorts and sizes, which they have surrounded with gardens and walls, and filled with handsome furniture and rich decorations ; but somehow the happiness they expected, has not fallen to their lot. The golden apple which glistened so brightly, and which they pursued so keenly, seems to S 2 26o The Coming Democracy. turn to dust as they touch it : like Solomon, they would confess, if they were philosophic enough to know their own feelings, that the " palaces and orchards and vine- yards " on which they had set their hearts, are, after all, little more than vanity and, as Horace says, please only " As pictures charm an eye inflamed and blear, " As music gratifies an ulcered ear." So too many have found out, that it is even easier to gain the means to buy works of art, than the taste to enjoy them. Not a few people seem to spend one half of their lives in getting money to make fools of them- selves with the other half; and no form of folly can be much more melancholy, than that of trying to persuade ourselves that, by merely hanging clever pictures on our walls, we are making our lives more happy and cultivated. Titania's fairies might be at hand with the sweetest music, but Bottom cared most for " the tongs and the bones ;" and with the most delicate viands, but his desii-es ran after " a peck of provender," or " good dry oats," or " bottle of hay," or " a handful or two of dried peas." So multitudes who have striven hard to be able to surround themselves with costly works of art, would, if they were honest, have to confess that, beyond ministering to ostentation, these are little more than a weariness of the flesh, and are not comparable to many cheap sources of pleasure. Like children who break some brittle toy in struggling for it, we lose the capacity for enjoyment in striving for the means. As Faust bartered away his soul in exchange for sensual gratification, so in concentrating ourselves upon obtain- ing the appliances of pleasure, we very often make The Middle Classes. 261 impossible that state of mind — that " wise passiveness " — without which these appliances, however rich and elaborate, are quite worthless. This is, probably, the reason why so many, indeed nearly all, of the most celebrated pictures of our time are so destitute of soul. Wonderful painting of all sorts there is in plenty, but we search in vain for that poetical expression without wliich the cleverest pictures are only the more irritating because of their cleverness. There is a " saving faith " in art as in religion ; but this must be in the heart, and needs more than a brush. Money is now in the hands largely of those who, because they cannot feel soul, therefore do not want it ; and supply meets demand in art as in other things. Happily, we find out that Nature is thoroughly democratic, in the best sense of the word, for every pleasure which is worth much, is within the reach of all. As Milton tells us — " The mind is in its own place, and of itself can make A heaven of hell, a hell of heaven." So he whose mind is in the right state, needs no other picture than a bit of blue sky, and no other music than the song of a bird. It may be that the present is only a transition stage ; but certainly it must be confessed. that the greatly increased means of culture which have latterly come into the possession of the Middle Classes, have so far produced much less effect than might have been expected, in making their lives cheerful and refined. Those who have any acquaintance with pros- perous manufacturing towns, will acknowledge that it would be hard to imagine anything more depressingly dull, than the state of society which prevails amongst 262 The Coming Democracy. the suburban inhabitants ; most of whom would be better and happier, if put back into that condition from which they have unfortunately disturbed themselves. But their own disappointment is not the worst con- sequence of this mistake of the Middle Classes ; for by their emigration, they have cut themselves off from that sympathy of the rest of the people, which should be the highest source of their happiness, and the best safe- guard of their welfare. It can never be a healthy, nor even a safe, state for a large town, when it can be mapped strictly into districts, according to the means of the inhabitants : with here all those who can spend so much, and there all those who can spend a different sum ; whilst the masses are huddled together, and the Middle Classes, who live by their labour, have run away from them as far as possible. Of course, various trades must localise themselves, and in London divisions of this sort seem very strongly marked ; but there the people intermingle more, so that the Capital has nothing, except in the quarters inhabited by these same Middle Classes, corresponding to the arbitrary demarcations, and social isolations, of the large manufacturing towns. Human life does not depend upon the men merely, l)ut must owe most of its social ease and kindly sym- pathy to their wives and families, who by these modern arrangements are prevented from exercising their proper influence. No philanthropic activity of the heads of households can make up for this loss : in vain will they preside at meetings, and organise institutions, and head subscriptions ; for all the good that can be done in this spasmodic way, will not compare with what would naturally follow, if they and their families lived more in The Middle Classes. 263 easy contact with the people. We complain that the masses are rough in their manners ; and well they may be if they have no chance of . seeing anything better. Societies are now being established to refine the homes of the poor; but concerts and lectures, flowers and dados, will have little effect in this direction. Nature does not sanction such cold and jerky methods, but has ordained, as we all realise in the training of our own children, that refinement is only to be acquired by the quiet influence of steady example. We complain, too, that somehow the masses will not be candid witli us : we work for them and pay for them ; we make all sorts of efforts for their benefit and amusement ; yet, however wisely we charm, they obstinately refuse to open their hearts to us. Few men — as clergymen, and others who have tried the hardest, will acknowledge the first — really ever get to feel that they know the working man as we expect one man to know another : as the Jew might buy and sell, talk and walk, but would not eat, drink, or pray with the Christian, so the working men may work for us, and vote for us ; may listen to our speeches, and read our papers ; but somehow they wdll not show us what are their own feelings and aspirations ; what they really think, and what they really want. Yet they are our own " flesh and blood ;" not only have they " organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ; are " fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, " subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, " warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer ; " but they are also of the same race and language, live on the same soil, obey the same laws, and share the same history. This mystery as to what manner of men these 254 The Coming Democracy. fellows of our own are, is the cause of most of that fear of the Coming Democracy which is so general and yet so inexplicable ; so vague and yet so potent. In this case, as in most, ignorance is the mother of fear; and for this ignorance the IMiddle Classes are largely responsible. Somehow, they have cut the cord of sympathy which should connect them with the classes from which they have themselves mostly sprung, and over whose destinies they have exercised the chief influence. This cord cannot be pieced up by any philanthropic mechanism ; Ijut only the return to natural social intercourse can do this. As Sir Joshua Picynolds's secret for painting a cliild, was being one, so the only method for understanding working-men, is living with them. It is chiefly because they do not do this, that the Middle Classes have not now that sjm.- pathy of the masses which we should expect would be theirs ; and the want of which will, under the Coming Democracy, considerably affect the political destiny of these classes. But it may be asked why the Middle Classes should be thus singled out for this blame, as surely the Upper Classes hold themselves still further aloof. But it must Ije remembered that the same is not expected from these classes ; for though they benefit just as much by trade, it is by a process which is indirect, and therefore not so easily perceived by the multitude. We always feel that those are most our rivals, with whom M^e are Ijrought into most direct contention ; as two little bears who are left to fight over the remainder of the food, most dislike each other, whilst both of them think little of the big bear who has previously carried off the best The Middle Classes. 265 part. Besides, the Upper Classes are chiefly connected with agriculture and the country. Also there is safety in their very distance : for it is the worst to be near enough to be known, and yet not near enough to be liked ; they who are " so near and yet so far," Ijeing in the most dangerous of all positions. Likewise we have to take into account that there are many associations connecting the Upper Classes with the masses, which the Middle Classes have not the advantage of. Whilst their property is not so new, and does not seem to depend so much upon the labour of others as upon historical causes, they are themselves mixed up with those associa- tions of sport and enjoyment which are so dear to the hearts of the masses of Englishmen. The Middle Classes have made the mistake of being too grim ; their ideal is not one wliich will ever take the fancy of the multitude. Englishmen in the bulk may respect a clever business-man, but they can never be fond of him : the hero who " rises early and late takes rest ; " who plods away, year after year, that he may add house to house, and field to field ; who always keeps his eye on the main chance, and thus succeeds in being able to live expensively and to give large subscriptions ; who perhaps becomes a Mayor or Sheriff, or Member of Par- liament, or even something greater; and who finally dies honoured by all, but cared for by none ; may be descanted upon at Mechanics' Institutions, and written about in goody books, but the people generally will per- sist in caring nothing at all about him. The Middle Class worship of "success" is not believed in by the masses; its heroism is not theirs, neither are its enjoyments. There is a much wider gulf here than is generally 266 The Coming Democracy. suspected ; and this has been made still wider by the sombre Puritanism of the Middle Classes. We need not dislike a man whose thoughts are not our thoughts ; but we can hardly help it, if he is also grimly self- righteous, and persistently dull. So, in spite of the great services and virtues of the ]\Iiddle Classes ; in spite of the fact, that they have done most to make England what it is, and to improve the condition of its people ; it must be acknowledged that the state of feeling towards them is not quite satis- factory, which exists amongst those who will have the chief influence in the Coming Democracy. Bearing in mind that these are the sort of people who are most guided by feelings and least by reasons, we have next to consider what is likely to be their action towards these classes. By action, of course political action is meant ; and the field for this is necessarily limited. But though limited in extent, this action may be strong in in- fluence ; and especially on one matter which will most come home to the ]\Iiddle Classes, namely taxation. It is one peculiarity of these classes that they are very apt to regard arrangements to which they have been accustomed, as inevitable laws of Nature. So they come to assume, even in such matters as taxation, that because certain methods were in the beginning, and are now, therefore they ever must be. But the Coming Democracy is not unlikely to give such a belief a rude shake ; and to recall society to the fact, that the ar- rangements of taxation are mere arrangements, and so may, Mdthout injustice of principle, be completely remodelled. A nation must find so much money to The Middle Classes. 267 cany on its affairs, but how this money should be found, must always remain a question chiefly of prac- tical wisdom. Our system has grown up gradually ; when expenditure has increased, new taxes have been laid on, as seemed best at the time ; and when expendi- ture has diminished, old taxes have been taken off, from the same consideration. No doubt there has been a desire to make the incidence of taxation as fair as possible to the various classes, but the development of property may gradually alter the fairness of such in- cidence. Besides, much must always depend upon who are the judges of this fairness. Our system of taxa- tion has grown up under a middle-class regime ; and no class, even with the best intentions, is quite a safe judge of how much it ought to pay. At any rate it is not unreasonable to expect, that when we come under a new regime, this system will be overhauled, not only in its details but also in its principles. The Coming Democracy may very likely be inclined to think that certain classes ought to pay more, and others less, towards the national expenses. This thought may lead to property, in other forms as well as land, being much more heavily taxed than now. Such increased taxation may fall upon investments, and still more upon incomes. No doubt any such proposals would be met by cries about the rights of property, coming the loudest from those who now favour the application of similar pro- posals to the land. But the Middle Classes, who are apt to tliink, like the " Northern Farmer," that — " Proputty, proputty's everything 'ere," may have to learn that the land does not stand in a 268 The Coming Democracy. category by itself; but that the principle which it is proposed to apply to the land, which is the " proputty " of the Upper Classes, may easily be extended to the " proputty " of the Middle Classes. All men think all men taxable, as well as mortal, except themselves ; but voting in the one case, as death in the other, comes at last to waken them out of such a dream. And there will be little use in talking about the sacredness of pro- perty ; for the institution of property is not based upon any religious principle, though the eighth and tenth commandments may seem to countenance such an idea. Property is based upon social convenience, and its " rights " must be governed by that ; as are " personal rights," which seem much more radical : for if a man has a right to anytlring, it should be to his own person, yet the law does not allow him to dispose of tliis, in marriage or otherwise, according to his own unlimited will. Every tax is so far an infringement of the " rights of property ;" and since taxation is necessary, such infringement is recognised as a principle. After that, it is only a matter of detail ; and we have then no claim to fall back upon princij^les. Certain taxation may be unwise, or unfair, but it cannot violate any sacred principle ; the sacredness of which, if there is any, is violated by all taxation. The only fair principle in this matter seems to be, that taxation shall be levied upon the different classes in proportion to their means ; and to the benefits they derive from the State. And taking direct and indirect taxation together, the Coming Democracy may think tliat the working-classes pay more than their fair share. The answer that much of this is paid indirectly, on The Middle Classes. 269 articles, as spirits and tobacco, which they need not consume unless they choose, may not be thought satis- factory ; for it may be asked why the things they like, should be particularly burdened, whilst other things which other classes like, as land and money, should be let off more easily. It may be true that spirits and tobacco are luxuries, but so are land and money, beyond a very moderate quantity ; and if the Bible speaks truly, these are, in excess, just as dangerous to the individual, if not to the community. If taxation is to be used as a teacher of right conduct, like a tale covering a moral, then such teaching may fairly be extended beyond the grosser vices ; and so be applied to the love of money, as well as to the love of drink. That such an extension is not so very improbable, will be believed by those who observe that the spirit of Democracy has always a hankering after the greater equalisation of lots ; too much for some being as dis- tasteful as too little for others. So democratic public opinion may come to the conclusion, that taxation may legitimately be used to discourage this too great accumu- lation of property, whether as land or money, in the same hands. Hence we may see an income tax in- creasing rapidly after a certain point ; also other expedients with the same object. It will probably be said that this would discourage that accumulation of capital which is necessary to the development of trade, and therefore to the welfare of the wage-earning classes. But experience seems to teach that the desire for getting money, is independent of the return to be expected from its accumulations ; as people remain just as covetous whilst the rate of interest is 270 The Coming Democracy. steadily declining, and also where no rate at all is reckoned on. Men seem ready to obey the lesson taught in early days, so far as not only to imitate the industry of " the busy bee," but also its willingness in work- ing after most of the honey has been taken from the hive. Some men have a faculty for accumulating ; and in the ideal state of society, each member is expected to make his special gift contribute something towards the general good. • - And even if the accumulation of large fortunes was dis- couraged, it does not follow that that should be regretted ; for there is no doubt that great diflferences of fortune tend to divide men into classes, and to keep them apart. This is probably one of the reasons why society is much more democratic on the Continent ; rich and poor not being so widely separated there as here, the rich being less rich and the poor less poor. Nor would those who might seem most affected, be necessarily worse off: the rich men need not " weep and howl for the miseries that shall come upon them ;" since the worst of these would be a little return to that " plain living," with which, if poets are right, " high thinking " is more likely to be associated, than it is with high living. We do not need a Wordsworth to tell us that now our life is too much " drest for show " " Mean handywork of craftsman, cook, Or groom." Even if some steps are taken in this direction, it will not follow that the Democracy is opposed to the institu- tion of property. There is no danger of that in England, at any rate, for such Communism has no attraction for The Middle Classes. 271 the English mind : indeed it need not be expected in any civilised country, unless there is a large class very destitute. For as soon as men come to have some things of their own, however few and small, they become champions of property in general ; and so defenders of the things of others. Every proposal to re-arrange the burdens of society, is always met with outcries about Socialism, Communism, and such other terrifying, because vague, dangers ; as if the previous arrangements had been settled by some law of the Medes and Persians. But the Coming Democracy need not be judged guilty of any- thing so dreadful, even if it should think that the ]\Iiddle Classes ought to bear a larger share of the national burdens. Such a conclusion may be arrived at, by the same reasoning which many of the Middle Classes are now applying to the question of the land; for they say that the State may fairly claim to benefit by the increased value which has been added without any effort of the owners. But the same will hold good for other sorts of property ; for it is reckoned that of the three thousand millions sterling which are dealt with on the Stock Exchange, the total saleable value has increased within the last two years by six hundred millions. This increase is largely due to the security afforded by the State ; or at least would be impossible without that: so the State may reasonably expect some benefit in return. And apart from this, the mere desire to share fairly in the prosperity of the country, may lead to such a conclusion ; for the working classes may think that, though they have had many promises, they do not actually find themselves much better off. They may 2/2 The Coming Democracy. tire of .seeing, like Sancho Panza, dishes put before theni, and then taken away untouched ; and so may resolve to help themselves out of one within reach. Such help- ing will, in any case, be done moderately, as there is too much respect and good feeling, for any unreasonable ideas to be entertained ; but it is not improbable that, under the Coming Democracy the propertied classes may have to bear a larger share of the national taxation. But it may be said that the preponderance of poli- tical power will enal:)le these classes to protect them- selves against such a change ; for however the qualifica- tions of the voters may be extended, it seems that tlie l)ulk of the representatives must either belong to the propertied classes, or be largely in sympathy with them. It certainly seems true that, as long as human nature remains as it is, the two requisites of sustenance and independence must constitute a barrier too strong to be overcome by any socialistic enthusiasm. For Members of Parliament cannot live in London for six months each year, and give their time to their duties, without having some resources to fall back upon ; and cannot preserve their independence, unless these are their own ; so pro- perty must always have an immense advantage in such a contest. Also the expenses of elections tell in the same direction, and give property another advantage ; so that the masses, by encouraging lavish expenditure, are really working against democratic interests. Every diminution in the expense of getting into Parliament, and of stopping there, is a step in favour of catholicity of representation : and such steps are almost the only effective ones which can be taken ; for these vulgar necessities, however much we may try to ignore them, J_ The Middle Classes. 273 must always be more powerful in such matters than any legal or theoretical arrangements. Nothing will be gained by decisions that more working-men should go into Parliament, if such men would have to starve when they got there, or be thrown adrift if they lost their seats. In these circumstances, one certain effect of sending such Members must be, that they would use their politics to fill their own pockets ; like Shakspere's cute cobbler, who came forth not only " to see Gaisar and to rejoice in his triumph," but also " to lead the men about the streets to wear out their shoes." But though these necessities may thus tell in favour of property, it does not follow that they will always give the Middle Classes as much political influence as they now possess. For our commercial prosperity, advancing by leaps and bounds, has during the last half century brought these classes into a new political position. Formerly few of those found their way into the House of Commons who now half fill it : successful mercliants, and manufacturers, and stock-brokers, are pressing in on every side ; not merely being returned for their native towns, but also representing Counties, and gaining seats all over the country. As it would sound ludicrous to ascribe this success to their brains, it must be put. down to their money ; and it seems probable that this money will in the future be less effective for such a purpose. For the Coming Democracy, besides caring less for money, will have a wider area to choose from, and wider tastes to govern that choice. At present, unless some landed poten- tate or ambitious barrister is in the field, the electors are mostly forced to support some candidate whose qualifi- cation is money, generally made by trade. Bat if, ;is T 274 The Coming Democracy. seems generally to be expected, the franchise is largely extended in the counties, a class of voters will be intro- duced who will not care about town employers or city speculators, but whose sympathies will run in the direc- tion of agriculture. Hitherto, Eadicalism has been almost exclusively associated with towns ; Ijut this restric- tion will eventually break down, letting in a Eadicalism which, besides being less extreme in its spirit, will also be less urban in its character. One effect of such a change will be, that the chance of getting into Parliament will be greater for those associated with agriculture, and less for those associated with trade ; so that probably the influence of the landed classes, in this direction, will be increased, as also will be that of farmers, and others similarly situated. In addition to thus losing some direct power, the Middle Classes may find their particular interests injured by some coalition of the other classes. For if the democratic spirit sets in the direction of such taxa- tion as has been thought not improbable, it may find an ally in those connected with the land ; since, without suspecting any want of proper patriotism, we may believe that sometimes one class is not unwilling to give another a rub, especially when that other has previously made itself somewhat objectionable. If the Middle Classes, as seems now probable, lend their influence to the passing of a drastic land-measure ; they may, before long, find the land classes lending their influence to the passing of an equally drastic re-arrangement of taxation. That such motives are not entirely impossible, is suggested by the history of the passing of the Acts for shortening the liours of labour in factories, which were undoubtedly sup- The Middle Classes. 275 ported by some with the notion that at least they would not be favourable to the prosperity of manufactures. Other circumstances, not political, may diminish the political power of the Middle Classes ; for the duration is very uncertain of that prosperity upon which this power depends. It is to be feared that the structure is, after all, but built upon sand ; and so may go to pieces when the rain descends, and the floods come, and the winds blow and beat upon it. Manufacturing pre-eminence, if it is the gift that nations desire most, is also that of whose retention they can be least secure. How fickle such fortune has ever been, is amply recorded for us, not only in the pages of history, but even in the mere names of many manufactured articles, as " calico," " china," " muslin," " hoUand," " cambric," and many other words. No doubt the natural aptitude of a people has much to do with such superiority ; but a concurrence of favour- able circumstances is required, in addition, to give a nation a start. England received this, at the time when that prosperity began which has been the making of the Middle Classes. The discovery of the power of steam, together with that of new beds of coal and iron ; coinci- ding with the invention of many processes for cheapening and improving all kinds of manufactures ; and following closely upon an extension of territory and influence which threw open widely extended markets ; all these circum- stances told in our favour to an extent which it would be ungracious not to acknowledge. It may be true that all men are prone to ascribe their good fortune to their own skill, and their bad to luck; but a nation only makes itself ridiculous by pretending to ignore the ad- vantages which have been thrown in its way. And it T 2 2/6 The Coming Democracy. makes itself equally ridiculous by expecting a recurrence, or continuance, of such advantages. Other nations quickly learn the secrets we have discovered ; and also quickly apply them, if Nature has provided suitable resources. Ability and force of character cannot of course be copied, and so must always tell strongly ; but it may happen that others will be found our equals in these, and even our .superiors in the possession of natural resources. There is a nation growing up on the other side of the Atlantic, which is likely before long to run us hard in the race. Endowed with quick intelligence, keen in- dustry, and that enthusiastic self-confidence which gives force to these ; possessing an unlimited area of fertile and varied soil, and an unlimited supply of coal and iron, and the other requisites for manufacturing success ; free from the expenses which are such a serious drain upon our national means, and from the responsibilities which are such a heavy strain upon our national energy ; and possessed of political institutions whicli at any rate offer no obstacles to the fullest activity ; the United States of America threaten before long to occupy the first trading position in the world. England must always have great advantages, lying in the direct path between the two continents : and perhaps in commerce, its prosperity will yet be much further developed ; but in manufactures, it is to be feared that its supremacy must eventually give way. Tliis may remain in lighter articles, and those generally associated with a commercial community ; but it is hard to see how it can continue in the heavier and commoner products. Even if it goes, probably something else will come in its place ; and at any rate, we can take comfort in the thought, that The Middle Classes. 277 we shall not have ourselves to blame ; but only that great law by which the sun of commercial prosperity, like that of the heavens, seems destined to move steadily from east to west, in the direction in which the tide of humanity flows ; as Babylon and Alexandria, Constanti- nople and Athens, Eome and Venice and Genoa, Spain and Holland, plainly declare. But such comfort for the loss of this form of prosperity, will not keep in their position the Classes who depend upon it. And in considering the probable shiftings of the centre of gravity of political power in our own country, we must not forget that the chief influence belongs to great laws, which are in many respects independent of the circumstances determining the condition of the various classes. Monarchic, oligarcliic, and democratic, forms of government follow each other in an inevitable succes- sion : first, one class rises to power, and gives the direc- tion to civilisation, and the tone to society ; and then it has to give place to others, with different gifts and ideals. We and our fathers have lived under a Middle- Class regime, and we are thankful for the very many blessings which we owe to it. But this thankfulness cannot prevent our seeing that its days are numbered. No prophetic eye is needed ; nor are the characters such as those which, on Belshazzar's wall, foretold the doom of the Chaldean empire. It is not that our present masters have been weighed and found wanting, but only that circumstances will oblige them to make way for successors. Instead of passing any sentence of con- demnation, we can only hope that the new masters will do as well for the nation. 278 The Coming Democracy, CHAPTEE III. The Lower Classes. Such a heading cannot be written to a chapter without an inward protest against certain ideas, at any rate, which the words might seem to imply. For we naturally shrink from dividing men into classes according to tests against which our better nature rebels, as fit to deter- mine the application of such terms as higher and lower. We willingly accept whatever affects men's inward cha- racters, as virtue or wisdom ; but we cannot help feeling that there is something very paltry and artificial in that which merely concerns their outward circumstances, as wealth or social position. Not that we would encourage the mawkish sentimentality which objects to the mani- fest and necessary facts of social life. It is childish to chafe against the differences which are inevitable to our earthly condition, at any rate in its present stage ; but it is also unmanly to make too much of them. It may be true that we have the poor always with us, and shall have for as long as it is worth our while to consider : but we must not, on that account, exaggerate the im- portance of the difference between riches and poverty ; or too readily accept tliis difference as a principle of The Lower Classes. 279 classification. There are two democratic suggestions in this connection, which must be kept carefully distinct. The one, which is spurious, would destroy this difference ; the other, which is in harmony with the truest spirit of Democracy, would make light of it. It is one of the common-places of conversation, that Democracy hankers after the material levelling of classes, wishing to make tlie rich poorer and the poor richer ; but this comes from a tliin and bare conception of the character of Demo- cracy. It might be better if there were less diver- sities of physical gifts, but happily there may be one spirit which can soar above all these. The phrase, " The Eepublic of Letters," reminds us of a republi- canism which is not based upon goods, and does not care to re-dispose, but only to ignore them ; placing its claims to citizenship in something with which they have nothing to do. So the true Democracy looks forward to a time when that which is now the practice of the best men, will become the habit of the community : when differences of worldly condition will be regarded as secondary accidents of life ; and political efforts will be directed towards, as the unity of humanity will be seen to rest in, objects apart from these. Hence that utilitarian philosophy which is now so much favoured by many who are associated with demo- cratic aspirations, is really quite inconsistent with the highest development of the democratic spirit. For tliere can never be any democratic realisation upon a merely material basis. In vain will men form schemes of com- munistic equalising, for the best of these, even if they could have a trial, would not last a single day; in vain 28o The Coming Democracy. will nations seek such success by political rearrange- ments, for it will be surely found at last that " All that freedom's highest aims can reach, Is but to lay proportioned loads on each." If we would get at Democracy in its truest form, we must go beyond that mere " clothes-philosophy " which so vexed the soul of Teufelsdroch in liis watch-tower of a garret ; we must lay hold of principles other than those wliich regulate the amount of food and clothing ; and so realise the truth that, even politically, men's lives do not consist in the abundance of the things which they possess. But whilst not forgetting to think of things as they should be, we are compelled to take account of them as they are ; and in so doing, we are forced to acknowledge that outward condition is at present the primary prin- ciple of political classification, and that by tliis principle men fall into the three classes of Upper, Middle, and Lower. Democracy, in its best spirit, is a constant pro- test against this principle; and in its best efforts is always trying to supersede it. Perhaps it may even- tually succeed ; but this division seems to have existed from the earliest times. Hippodamus of Miletus, a contemporary of Pericles, and one of the first speculative politicians who sketched a plan of a perfect State, di- vided the citizens into the three classes, corresponding to our Lower, Middle and Upper, of artisans, cultivators of the soil, and military men ; and similar divisions have, under various terms, been continuously found necessary ever since. The Lower Classes. 281 Another fact equally certain is that in every State these classes have had a tendency to exercise political supremacy successively. Though this power must have begun with the multitude, it seems generally to have soon come into the hands — first, of the Upper Classes, either through an individual, or collectively ; then, of the Middle Classes ; and, lastly of the Lower Classes. This, again, is opposed to the true spirit of Democracy, which requires the fair blending of all classes, and not the predominance of any one, whether or not that be the Lower, As the highest democratic aspiration is not material gain, of any sort, so the highest democratic ideal is not class rule, of any sort. The demos means the whole people, and not the mere majority ; for the rule of the masses may be just as much a tyranny, and therefore just as much a violation of Democracy, as the rule of any other class. So the idea is unsound that the Coming Democracy necessarily implies some despotism of the Lower Classes. It undoubtedly means that those classes will possess greatly increased political power ; and it is the probable effect of this that we have to consider. But there may be a wide difference between the increase of a power, and the predominance of it. This depends upon the preceding condition. If a scale is down on one side, a great deal may be put into the other before the balance is reached ; but if it is already on the balance, only a little is needed to turn it. Whether or not the amount of power now possessed by the masses is such that, if it is in- creased, it will become predominant ; is a matter of fact, which does not affect the truth of the principle, that this is not necessarily implied in the idea of Demo- 282 The Coming Democracy. cracy. And we have to remember that in politics, as in every other sphere of life, there is always a very great difference between our opinion, and that of others, as to what constitutes our fair share of anything. At every stage of our history there have been always plenty to believe that the power of the people was already too great ; whilst now, after this power has been so re- peatedly and vastly increased, there are still plenty who maintain that it is not yet great enough. Be- fore the Reform Bill of 1832, many men, of undoubted wisdom and fairness, honestly believed that the distri- bution of power was already almost perfect ; and many who thought that the last Eeforni Bill was the taking in of the Trojan horse to the betrayal of the city, now feel that the city would be quite safe if no further changes were made. There is no doubt that the cry of " wolf ! " has been often needlessly raised ; but there is no doubt, also, that the wolf may come at last, as he did in the fable : the balance, which has so often been thought to be turning to the masses, may thump down on that side at any time. What we have to take care of, in considering whether, and when, this is likely to occur, is that we do not let ourselves be guided by current opinions, but only by stable facts. For in this matter, the great majority of men fall into one of two classes ; to neither of wliicli should much attention be paid, because the classification is not determined by judgment or knowledge, so much as by temperament or habit. This classification has prevailed in every age and country ; because the pro- blem of the distribution of political power is one which has always and everywhere more or less attracted the The Lower Classes. 283 public attention. This classification resembles that of the two classes, sanguine and nervous, into which temperaments are often divided. The sanguine are always ready to regard hopefully every addition to the power of the masses. They never stop to consider proportions, because they cannot realise their importance ; they never stop to weigh facts, be- cause they .are possessed by an enthusiasm which is independent of them. Two axioms suffice for them : one, that government should be for the good of the greatest number ; and the other, that the greatest number is best able to judge what is for its own good, and to effect it. The nervous are always ready to fear that every additional power given to the people must involve the destruction of the Constitution and the break-up of society. The political summum honum of the sanguine is freedom : that of the nervous, is order ; or if they desire freedom, they believe that this can only be secured by the repression of the masses. These two classes do not differ so much in their aim, for that of both may be acknowledged to be the greatest good of the greatest number. This divergence arises when we come to the means ; one class chiefly looking for this good from the people, and the other only believing in its being obtained for tliem. Tliis diver- gence has its root in a difference of opinion about the political sagacity of tlie masses. "This is the radical test by which we must determine to which political party a man really belongs. Family traditions, or reli- gious associations, or commercial considerations, or social connections, are the chief forces w^hich send most 284 The Coming Democracy. men to one party or the other ; so that with many, the party to which they give their allegiance is not that to which they really belong. We must sink beneath the deceptions of party statistics ; and then we shall find that all men, no matter by what names they are called, fall into one of the two great classes, of those who believe in the people, and those who do not. In this sense there is much truth in the saying of a living statesman, that Liberalism means trust of the people tempered by prudence, and Conservatism means dis- trust of the people tempered by fear. Omitting the tempering qualifications as open to objection, the truth remains, that trust and distrust of the people are the two radical political tests. These tests must be especially powerful in determining our attitude towards the Coming Democracy ; for those who trust will welcome it, wMle those who distrust will dread it. It is necessary, therefore, to ask what are the grounds of trust and distrust in this case ; and in asking this question, we must remember that there is not necessarily anything moral in the answer, whatever that may be. A man may disbelieve in the political capacity of the masses, without being deficient in Christian principles, or humanitarian feelings. It is all a matter of judgment ; so that arguments about " flesh and blood " are quite beside the mark : indeed these, to be consistent, may embrace too much, as Diderot extended Eosseau's theory of natural rights from humanity to animality. The necessary restriction depends, not upon flesh and blood, but upon reason; and reason makes the question one of judgment, and not of morals. In these days, pubKc opinion, as led The Lower Classes. 285 by eminent statesmen, has much too great a tendency to turn the lime-light of principle upon matters of merely political expediency, so placing these in an unnatural and distorting glamour. To talk about a thing being right or wrong, when at most it can be only wise or foolish, is to throw the public mind upon a false scent, and so to uniit it for following the true one. Most men who import moral feelings into political discussions, are only the victims of self-deception ; gild- ing by the fine name of " principles " those prejudices about which they are too stupid, or too ignorant, or too lazy, to reason further. " The maximum of principle with the minimum of principles " would be a good motto for politicians, especially in dealing with the differences between political parties. If we heed most that we hear, we ought to believe that Liberals must be kinder and better men — more generous, more conscien- tious, more unselfish, more affectionate — than Conserva- tives, or vice versa ; but we rind, as a matter of fact, that in this respect, there is nothing to choose between them ; so we are forced to the conclusion, that their differences have nothing to do with moral causes. A man may disbelieve in the Coming Democracy, and thoroughly dislike the idea of it, yet be just as good a fellow as its most enthusiastic champion. If we mean to be reason- able, we must therefore close the door against nearly all those moral considerations which politicians of both parties are always so eager to drag in. It would, no doubt, sunplify our task to believe that the good are those who trust the people, and the bad those who distrust them ; but this would be the simplification of folly, for common sense teaches us unmistakably that 286 The Coming Democracy. the division into sheep and goats cannot be based upon any such political considerations. We must therefore look elsewhere. Many men have a settled conviction that wisdom, of all sorts, belongs to the Upper Classes, and will die with them. Wisdom is, no doubt, favoured by leisure and education, and the Upper Classes have an advantage in these two respects ; bvit their advantage disappears, so far as leisure is concerned, when this is con- sumed in the pursuit of money. The argument might be worth something if the choice lay between a really leisured class and the toiling masses ; but this is not our case. If power is kept from the Lower Classes, it mvist remain chiefly in the hands of the Middle Classes : and in such a choice, the consideration of leisure cannot have much weight ; for the pressure of extrava- gant habits, and increasing competition, is rapidly making the Middle Class the least leisured of all. It is hard to see how the anxious manufacturer, or hurrying mer- chant, or overworked barrister, can have more leisure, or a freer mind, for political contemplation, than the coachman who drives his carriage, or the gardener who grows his flowers, or the stone-breaker who mends his roads. More may be said for education, but we may easily give too much weight even to that. It is yet a very uncertain problem how far book education is a help for the practical difficulties of life. Certainly modern ex- perience would not suggest any great belief in it ; for during the last fifty years, nearly every political change which has turned out well, has been staunchly opposed by the chief seats of learning. It seems as if men The Lower Classes. 287 need not be politically wiser because they are versed in the mysteries of the Greek particles, and in the diffi- culties of the highest mathematics ; because they are conversant with the details of the Peloponnesian war, and with the leading facts of more modern history. Plato's beatitude may be true, as to kings becoming philosophers ; but there is some doubt hanging over the other half, about philosophers becoming kings. Plato's own experience in Sicily does not seem to have been encouraging ; and though we are told that the Seven Wise Men of Greece were all politicians, we do not read that they were particularly distinguished in that way. The truth seems to be, that wise political action de- pends upon the concurrence of two forces ; one of these is practical instinct, and the other is cultivated and leisured guidance. The first is best found in the Lower Classes, as being closest to the practical difficulties of life ; whilst the second can only be looked for in the Upper and Middle Classes. If we want to know what should be done, we must generally look to the masses ; if we want to know how it should be done, we must generally look to the others. So a true Democracy requires the harmonious co-operation of all. Thus the notion, which evidently inspires many of those who now put themselves forward as democratic champions, that the Democracy will be reached when brains instead of possessions become the qualification of ruling, is not consistent with true democratic principles. Indeed, it is most inconsistent with them ; for there is no aristocracy so offensive, to most people, as that of education and talent. Hereditary nobility is, after all. 28S The Coming Democracy. that which causes the least heart-burnings : it is the least offensively regarded, because it is taken as a matter of course ; and it is the least offensively exer- cised, because its possessors have always been accus- tomed to it. Democracy does not mean substituting one sort of leaders for another, like changing those who manage the handles of a steam-engine ; but it implies that the people shall do more than merely find the motive power, for others to direct, in turning the wheels of the State. Under the Coming Democracy, the people will exercise an increasing influence in deter- mining what shall be done, as well as in finding the power to do it. But, on the other hand, neither does Democracy mean that all men shall have an equal political influence. Equality is impossible in this life ; as an ideal, it may be prettily winged, but, like Icarus, it cannot keep up in the heat of common sunlight. It is out of harmony M'ith Nature ; for though rain and sunshine fall equally upon the just and the unjust, it is not so with those talents and opportunities, those physical and mental and moral gifts, which carry with them political influence. Aris- totle's division into those who are meant by Nature to rule, and those who are meant to be ruled, is so far true, that circumstances inevitably make some men to in- fluence, and others to be influenced. All that Demo- cracy requires is, that every class shall exercise its fair influence, in counsel as well as in action. This influence cannot be reckoned by numbers ; for the absence of the necessity for daily toil, and the presence of education, not to speak of anything else, must always give the Upper Classes an influence quite out of proportion to The Lower Classes. 289 their numbers. This influence will decrease as the other classes become more educated and observant, but it must always remain more or less paramount. Under the Coming Democracy, it will have to take more account of the opinions of the masses ; and it may thereby add to its own strength, if this process is con- ducted with wisdom. Especially will this be true in times of danger; for much help was derived from Briareus with his hundred hands, and Argus with his hundred eyes. Since the people will have to be taken more into counsel, this had better be done with frank trustfulness; for such faith will develope unsuspected qualities in the populace, as the sun reveals the writing of invisible ink. There is much political suggestiveness in the remark of Prevost-Paradol, that " L'humanite roule, comme la mer, des perles dans ses abirnes." But the strongest reason for the dread of the Coming Democracy is yet behind ; and this depends upon that which most touches Englishmen, namely, property. The associations of the French Eevolution have esta- blished a sort of general belief that Democracy some- how means social anarchy : the reign of all those dreadful isms, such as Socialism, Nihilism, Com- munism, and the like, under which our best institutions would disappear ; the poor seizing the possessions of those who have any, and the distinction between meum and tuum, which is the radical axiom of the gospel of civilisation, being no longer regarded. And nothing is so shocking to respectable people as a prospect of this sort, threatening that which, in truth, is to most of them the dearest thing in life. For the plainest teach- u 290 The Coming Democracy. ings of our religion do not carry us far beyond the quali- fication that — " No graven images may be, Worshipped, except the Currency," and the most unselfish desires for the welfare of the people stop short, when that welfare threatens to inter- fere with our own. Even if such a tendency were likely to be displayed, it would not follow that it would necessarily be either wrong or unwise. In all ages, the unfairness of the distribution of worldly goods has been too manifest to be ignored ; so that wise men, despairing of finding a better system, have, in planning ideal states of society, been led to favour such theories as now go by the name of Communism. Plato's perfect state is charac- terised by the absence of all appropriation whatever, community being extended to women and children as well as goods. Lycurgus, in his ideal state, prohibited money. More, in his Utopia, speaks in the same strain, saying that " as long as there is any property, and whilst money is the standard of all things, a nation cannot be governed justly or happily." The same spirit prevails in Fenelon's Happy Land and Johnson's Happy Valley, though the w^orks treating of these are ethical rather than political. Montesquieu, too, favours the same ideal, and so do many other profound thinkers. History confirms what imagination conceives ; for it is wealth, and not poverty, M^hich has been the ruin of States. Money troubles depressed and demoralised the plebeians of Rome ; and the inequalities of fortune have, in all ages, bred discontent and exasperation. They had more to do with the French Eevolution than any desires The Lower Classes. 291 for political rights ; indeed, generally such rights have only been sought as a means of rectifying such evils. It may be, as Solomon teaches, that riches are a strong- hold in the imagination — not in the realisation — of the rich man, and that people are as well without them ; but, if so, this would apply equally to those who now have them, as to those who have them not. It may be, indeed, we know it is, true — for we do not need Seneca to assure us — that, even if the good things of prosperity are most to be wished, yet those of adversity are most to be admired. But, at any rate, this much is certain, that, seeing the miseries that come from the inequalities of riches, and the greater happiness found where their distribution is more even, we should not have cause to wonder if the world were even to get out of patience with the present gospel, that " Thou shalt not covet, but tradition Approves all forras of competition," and were even to make some radical changes, to dis- cover if it be not true that money, like manure, does most good when most spread. Without denying Voltaire's dictum, that every man who attempts to predict the future is either aji irhpostor or a madman, we may venture to feel pretty sure that the English Democracy will not choose this much-dreaded course of Socialistic Eevolution. From amongst many reasons for this belief, two may be given ; one of them is afforded by the condition of the people, and the other by their character. Communism will never prevail in any nation, unless there is a large class very destitute. For the normal state of mind of u 2 292. The Coming Democracy. the masses is necessarily conservative. They all wish to keep things as they are, unless there is some very strong motive driving them to think of change. The laboriousness of daily toil, the concentration of atten- tion upon their own affairs, the sluggishness of mind engendered by the uninspiring surroundings of their lives — all these tend to produce an inertness of disposi- tion, which is most opposed to change of any kind. The people wall not quarrel with any state of life under which they are sufficiently clothed, and fed, and shel- tered, and by which their personal liberty is reasonably secured. Only some goad of discomfort can force them to stir ; and our people are not suffering from anything of that sort, sufficiently strong. There are no doubt many ills in their condition, but these are only such as they would rather bear, than fly to others that they know not of. This, which is a general principle, holds true espe- cially of the English people. They are generically and historically conservative ; inheriting the solid Teutonic temperament, and not having any traditions of feuds between the different classes. The divisions between high and low, rich and poor, have never been accen- tuated in English History. No such party term as " Sans- culotte " has ever gained a footing in our vocabulary ; we have been divided as Lancastrians and Yorkists ; as English and Scotch ; as Puritans and Cavaliers ; as Pro- testants and Catholics ; as Whigs and Tories ; but never as " Haves " and " Not Haves." Jack Cade's talk about seven halfpenny loaves for a penny, and three-hooped pots having ten hoops, may have amused at the time, w'hen want was pressing ; but its idea has never become a ._L. The Lower Classes. ' 293 principle of classification. English character has always had a great liking for home, as the centre of life, so that Socialism is alien to it : and it has never had any dislike for differences of position ; indeed, the .masses are rather fond of those above them, so that Com- munism is not favoured. Envy, which is one of the prime motives of revolution, is not a strong English vice ; and good-natured easy-goingness, which is the mother of conservatism, is a strong English virtue. The common people may, as Macaulay says, choose their favourites ill, but they mostly choose them from the Upper Classes ; and are generally constant to them. And as to wisdom in rulers, that is not always needed, at least for the preservation of a State ; it was not birds with the highest reputation in this respect which saved the Capitol. Besides, there lies deep down in the English nature — often unconscious, nearly always dumb — a strong dis- trust of those ideas of social equality which are so attractive to some other nations, and which are often believed to be inevitably associated with Democracy. The English people are never given to running after im- possible ideals ; and they feel that of social equality to be one of these. They see that Nature is against it ; for in the world about them, no two things are ever made equal, or can ever be kept so. And so with men ; dis- positions and opportunities, talents and energies, are ordered so differently, that we may as reasonably expect to make men socially equal, as to get all horses to run at the same speed. And not only is this ideal of social equality felt to be impossible, but it is also believed to be undesirable. Communism is opposed to human pro- 294 The Coming Democracy. gress as much as to human nature. The institution of the family is the root of our civilisation ; and this needs the soil of the sanctity of marriage, and of the individuality of property. Community of labour means turning all into State pensioners ; and community of condition means the suppression of thought, skill, and industry, and the discouragement of genius. Englishmen distinguish be- tween equality before the law and equality of the right to govern : they know that they have the first, and they do not care to try after the other ; for Eevolution, in so far as it aims at this, is like the fabled monster that ])rought forth children only to eat them. Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity — those traditional watchwords of Democracy — do not mean, to the English mind, exemption from law, uniformity of power, or community of goods ; but only that the poor shall have equality before the law compared with others, a fair proportion of power along with others, and a command over their goods to help others. As a general result, then, of this outlook, we come to the conclusion that the Coming Democracy will not, in England, attempt to bring about those Socialistic changes which are so frequently, in the public mind, associated with the idea of Democracy. Nevertheless, we cannot resist the conclusion that other changes, less startling, but almost equally im- portant, will be gradually effected. For the centre of political gravity cannot, in any nation, be shifted from one class to another, without considerable results fol- lowing. The change from the Upper to the Middle class has produced marked effects on our history, and the same must be expected when the change from the Middle to The Lower Classes. 295 the Lower Class has had time to make itself properly felt. That this last change is being gradually, but surely, car- ried out, cannot be denied. The same sort of men may remain at the head of affairs, the same forms may be observed, and the same methods of procedure preserved ; but the change of mastership will be none the less real. That class really rules which possesses most power of check, and whose support has chiefly to be obtained. This was formerly the Upper Class ; recently it has been the Middle ; and in the future it will be the Lower. Lessons from ancient history must have little \veiglit with us on this point now ; for the ancients had no experience of that system of representation which is our engine of government. Votes, after all, must be won ; and those who have most of them, will exercise most influence. This power now belongs to the masses ; and though they may not coalesce as a class, nor attempt themselves to rule, yet their ideals will inevitably become predominant. Our object, therefore, must be to ascertain what these ideals are likely to be. But, before we can do this, we must consider of what elements these so-called masses are composed. Of these elements three only need be taken into account ; namely, the working people of the towns, the labourers of the country, and the poor gene- rally. Politicians are in the habit of giving too much weight to the first of these, so that it is mostly tlie custom to associate with Democracy the ideals wliicli are chiefly found in large towns. But, because the towns have been the first to gain power, it does not follow that they will keep it in the same proportion. On the contrary, it seems likely that in England popular power will be increasingly affected by agricultural in- 296 The Coming Democracy. liuence. Several reasons may be given for this expecta- tion. One is that the voting power of the country is certain before long to be increased ; for the labourers in the fields cannot always be kept out of that which has been gained by the workers in the towns. The unity of humanity will overcome the differences of place and occupation ; so that men of the same station, wherever they may be, will ultimately possess the same power. Indeed, we may go further, and expect that the in- fluence of the country will finally become propor- tionately greater than that of the towns. For it is not improbable that manufacturing industry, as we have it,' may decline in England. It lias grown to its present extent through advantages which may prove compara- tively transient. England had the start of the world, l)ut it does not seem to be keeping its lead. Other nations are pressing us in the race : and, with cheaper food and cheaper fuel, may at last overtake us ; or, at any rate, get so near as to deprive us of that universal trade without which we cannot hold our present posi- tion. England, from its geographical position and the character of its people, may always remain rich and powerful ; but its destiny will not improbably become commercial rather than manufacturing. It is manufac- tures, however, which now give the character to our towns ; and the predominance of commerce would mate- rially modify the political ideals of the people, and materially increase the political power of the country. Even if manufactures do not decline, the political supremacy of the manufacturing populations will pro- bably do so. For hitherto these have had the advan- tages of greater quickness of intelligence, greater activity The Lower Classes. 297 of civic life, greater opportunities of concentrating in- fluence, and greater appliances for organisation. But these advantages are rapidly melting away before ex- tended education, livelier social habits, increased poli- tical experience, and improved means of locomotion. On the other hand, the people of the country have advantages of their own, which must tell in the long run. Physically, the balance is on their side. Those wlio have any acquaintance with our manufacturing towns ; and who observe the sickly complexions, and feeble frames, and undeveloped forms, of so many of the inhabitants ; must often ask themselves whether, in spite of the eagerness of the world to obtain them, manufactures may not be more of a curse than a ])less- ing to a nation. Certainly there is more hopeful phy- sical material in farm labourers than in colliers, whose limbs are mostly distorted ; or in factory operatives, whose energies are mostly stewed away ; or in grinders, whose lungs are mostly diseased ; or in any other sort of town-workers, nearly every sort of which has its besetting ailment. Indeed, did they not receive con- stant recruits from the country, it is probable that our manufacturing towns would gradually become depopu- lated, simply from the deteriorating effects of their occupations. And even mentally, there is much to be said for the country life. Machinery may develop a certain sort of sharpness, but it is doubtful if, on the wliole, it does not weaken the mental character of tliose who attend to it. The rapidity of its movement, leaving no time for thought ; its complete action, requiring no intellectual participation of the worker ; and its complex perfectness, 298 The Coming Democracy. making all such participation seem hopeless ; all these, and other conditions, both unfit and discourage the human mind. Hence the apparently astonishing, but nevertheless certain, fact that scarcely any improve- ments of consequence have been made in machinery by those who attended to it. The spinning-frame, the mule, the stocking-loom, and most of the other chief machines, all tell the same story ; and History adds the still more surprising fact, that those wlio attended to machinery have generally been the most violently opposed to any improvements in it. Crompton and Arkwright, and most of the other great inventors, had to plan in secret ; with the fear always before their eyes, that the operatives would use violence to stop their work ; as they always did if they got the chance. The man who minds a machine may acquire a certain super- ficial quickness, if only from closer contact with others ; but he is likely to be mentally inferior to the farm labourer, wliose position brings him into daily contact with the ever- varying phenomena of Nature, and whose work alters continually from its own character, and from the unceasing changes of the seasons. And this mentally-depressing influence of machinery increases with every development of its application. For all such developments are based on that principle of the subdivision of labour which is a primary axiom of mechanical civilisation. The increased application, and superior quality, of machinery seem to imply in its workers diminished participation and inferior intelli- gence ; so that there is something painfully true and suggestive in the fact, that in the manufactories of the north, the workers are called " hands " — as if they no The Lower Classes. 299 longer required heads. The expression of a well-known employer, — " Strong in the arm and weak in the head," — seems to fairly express what we are coming to, so that soon machinery will afford no openings for those who may fairly be called men. When we reflect that, as in Chicago, one man may be constantly employed in making the sixty-fourth part of a shoe ; and that this process of subdivision is rapidly going on everywhere ; we cannot resist the conclusion that though machinery may be lowering the cost of production, it must also be lowering the intellectual character of those who attend to it. And since intellectual character chiefly determines political influence, we come to the conclusion that, when the people in the country have more largely received the franchise, the influence of the non-urban part of the population over the Coming Democracy must steadily increase. So that, in looking to the future, we must not give too much consideration to those town ideas which are now almost exclusively associated with Democracy. As to that third portion of the masses, which comes under the head of the poor generally, it is here that Socialistic ideas will always find their chief support ; for any change is sure to be favoured by those who have nothing, and who cannot be worse off. When a man comes to the possession of anything, be it only a little cottage - ful of furniture, he becomes a friend to the rights of property, and an enemy to everything like forcible sub- division. The retired Chartist who, after he had got a cart and horse of his own, exclaimed — " No dividing for me now " — fairly expressed the common feelings of human nature. Proprietorship, on however small a scale, is the 300 The Coming Democracy. best teacher of conservatism ; and as long as England remains fairly prosperous, this must be the condition of even the great majority of the masses of the people ; so that the political influence of the others must remain comparatively unimportant. And though it may sound harsh to say it, poverty is often a political ally of pro- perty ; because it is most open to that bribery which, in spite of the most stringent laws, is sure to always exer- cise a considerable influence over elections. Such being their probable constitution, we have next to ask what the masses of the people are likely to do with the power which will come into their hands under the Coming Democracy. We have already considered some of the reasons why we need not expect, under the Coming Democracy, any great Constitutional changes. The common notion that Democracy implies merely mob rule, all other authority being destroyed, is not justified by facts. Democracy does not mean, as Carlyle says, " despair of finding any heroes to govern you, and contented putting up with the want of them." On the contrary, one of the chief dangers of democracies, everywhere and in all times, has been a tendency to excessive hero-worship, upon whose altar the being of Democracy has been so often sacrificed. It is often said that Monarchy means the people being ruled by one ; Aristocracy, their being ruled by a few ; and Democracy, their ruling themselves : but as a matter of fact, every nation is ruled by a few, and forms of government are only different methods of choosing these rulers. In Monarchy, birth chooses them ; in Aristocracy, they choose themselves ; and in Democracy, they are chosen by the people. The Lower Classes. 301 Kingship, of one sort or other, is the inevitable resultant of all these methods ; it is the one political tune which Nature keeps humming through many variations. As Eousseau says, in speaking of Democracy — " Using the word in its strict meaning, there has never been a true Democracy, and there never will be one. It is contrary to natural order for the majority to govern, and the minority to be governed." It is equally contrary to such order for the people, as a body, to govern them- selves ; and no approach can be made to this, except when the population is small in number, similar in posi- tion and education, easily gathered together, possessed of certain leisure, and only concerned with matters which are simple and few, and which manage themselves with the help of j^lain decisions now and then. These conditions can only be found in such communities as the Swiss cantons. Hence republicanism and federalism are always closely allied. As long as a nation is merely a congeries of little States, its government may be a more or less real approximation to republicanism ; but this becomes impossible as soon as the people are welded into one nation, with complex national affairs. We see this law now working itself out in the United States of America: as the separate States are becoming more populous, their authority is decreasing, whilst that of the Central Government is increasing ; and such increase must eventually lead to kingship of one sort or other ; whether of a president, or a soldier, or a body of profes- sional politicians, or a clique of party managers. In England, with a nation so homogeneous ; and an empire so extensive and varied, constantly requiring attention, and knowledge, and skill ; it is absurd to suppose that 302 The Coming Democracy. any political jugglery, or delusive nomenclature, can ever make the people, as a whole, really manage their own aft'airs. So there must be an aristocracy of some kind or other ; and Democracy only means that the people, instead of having tliis thrust upon them, shall choose it, and check it, for themselves. And an aristocracy so chosen must, at least, have the capacity of governing : for with- out that, it would cease to exist ; and this capacity must be proved by works. The credential of aristocracy has been, at one time, fighting, and at another, owning land : whilst latterly it has been in danger of degenerating into the mere capacity to do nothing ; but under the Coming Democracy it will have to be work, with talent. From the days of Hercules, whose patent of nobility was, not what he could spend, but what he had done — lions slain, stables cleansed, twelve labours undergone — no aristocracy has ever been able to keep on its feet which was not "the best" in some high sphere of action. And it will be under the Coming Democracy, as it has been under every preceding form of government, that the best must eventually come to the top. By " the top," is not necessarily meant the head of affairs ; for often a nation is most ruled by some man who has never held office. It is generally assumed that to rule the people, you must pander to them, so that under democracies, the leaders must be demagogues. But this is not true of the English people, at any rate. For a time, at first, they may dislike being differed with and opposed, but they ultimately have most admiration for the man who has had most courage. In standing up against popular feeling, there is a discipline more bracing than can be The Lower Classes. 303 got in any other way, and this gives that force of cha- racter which is so essential to ruling democracies. Courage and strength are, after talent, the two first requisites of abiding popular leadership. The English jjeople are more likely to follow a strong man who is gomg wrong, than a weak one who is going right. To such an aristocracy, hero-worship, with the power coming from it, will be given more freely than it has ever been given to any aristocracy before. We see one great sign of this already in the fact, that our extended suffrage has greatly increased the influence of favourite statesmen ; the heads of the government, since the last Eeform Bill, have possessed more personal power than any rulers in England for the last two hundred years. Democracy only requires that the people shall be able to please themselves ; and since our present Constitution allows this, at least as fully as any other, there is no reason to expect that it will be seriously changed under the Coming Democracy. Besides, it must be borne in mind, in this connection, that parties in England do not go by classes ; for our political divisions run perpendicularly rather than hori- zontally, so that each slice contains some of pretty nearly every class. Liberalism and Conservatism do not depend upon class so much as upon disposition. Under all the varieties of life there lies, like granite under different geological formations, the universal man ; and in this man there is a radical antagonism, which is the ground of partisan differences. In politics, as in religion, men are divided by Nature into Non- Pelagians and Pelagians : some looking back to the days of Eden, others forward to those of the Millenium ; some 364 The Coming Democracy. believing most in the Past, others most in the Future ; some clinging most to memory, others most to imagina- tion ; some moved most by fear, others most by hope. These are the two poles of Nature around which collect the two political parties which are to be found in every class, and under every form of government. So there are Conservative working-men as well as Conservative landlords ; and the masses will never form themselves into a distinct political party, unless under such a stress of aggravating necessity, as must, unless relieved, lead to E evolution — that final form of protest. And this is a step which the English nation has always been most loth to take ; indeed, it never has taken it properly, for there is something congenial to our character in the advice of the German homely saying — that we may empty the tul:), but not the baby in it. "With us the future must always start from the present ; as a boat, putting out, must press the oar on the shore. So there is no reason for giving way to the common fear that the full advent of the Democracy must lead to the overthrow of our Constitution, or to the discourage- ment, and consequent disappearance, of great political leaders. That Constitution may have to adapt itself freely, as there must be larger pipes for a fuller stream ; but its model need not be interfered with. And those leaders may often have a pretty hard time of it ; it may be truer than ever of them that " Deep on their front engraven, Deliberation sits, and public care." They may have to give less attention to the wine-and- walnuts statesmanship of the Clubs, and more to the The Lower Classes. ' 305 earnest expressions and stern feelings of the masses ; and now and again there must come such rough rebuffs as will drive the timid from the field. But in politics, as in religion, the Delectable Mountains are never reached by those who can be easily turned back ; here, too, faint heart never wins fair lady. And this is no new consequence of modern Reform Bills ; for the truth has held good, though in different degrees, in all times. Bacon tells us that all rising to great place must be by a winding-stair, and that the man who reaches it is thrice a servant — to the State, to fame, and to business. We cannot expect to take part in any battle worth fighting in, without receiving some knocks, as even Venus discovered when she ventured amongst the Greeks and Trojans. But, under the Coming Demo- cracy, statesmen of the right mettle will have as good a chance as ever before : for the English masses are not like .^^sop's cock ; they will find out the difference between a gem and a barleycorn, though they may have to look, and peck, a good deal first. When, however, we come to merely social matters, it seems likely that we may expect more considerable changes. Before we can form any notion of what these are likely to be, we must consider what ideal of a State will have most influence over the popular mind. For the lower we go in the social scale, the greater becomes the power of ideals. Nearly every great popular move- ment has had its first cause in some ideal ; as we are told that the adoption at Borne of the worship of Apollo, was not because the Tarquins introduced it, but because there was a current in the minds of the Eoman people, which set powerfully at that time towards a new worship X 3o6 The Coming Democracy. of this kind, and away from the old run of Latin and Sabine religious ideas. So, always, we must learn what tlie people feel, before we can calculate what they will do ; and especially is this so in political matters. The use which the people will make of their ])ower over the State, will depend upon the popular feeling about the proper functions of the State. The various ideals of State functions may be ranged in three classes, called respectively the Paternal, the Protective, and the National. The leading condition of the first, is that the State should be something outside the peo2:)le, bringing its will to bear upon them ; of the second, that it should be merely a sort of policeman, keeping the peace between, and for, them ; and of the third, that it should be an instrumentality for carrying out the people's own will. The first includes all despotisms, whether benevolent or tyrannic, and to this class the political speculations of the ancients were almost exclusively confined. They held it an axiom that any government was better than none ; and they were not likely to think much of mere letting-alone, when their object was to build up a posi- tive art of government out of the chaos of primitive bar- barism. The National ideal was out of their reach, be- cause they had no notion of that principle of representation by which alone it can be worked. This principle is gradually, but inevitably, making the Paternal ideal im- possible for us. No doubt, humanity in various stages of development requires various forms of government ; and many mistakes have been made through attempts to apply to countries Constitutions for which they were not suited. In politics, as in carpentering, there are The Lower Classes. 307 square pegs and round holes, which proverbially cannot be fitted to each other. Intellectual character, physical condition, state of civilisation, and many other circunir- stances, may make a Paternal form of government the best for certain nations in their present state ; but this fitness will vanish as this state is grown out of. In England, at least, we are long past this stage ; we have arrived at a manhood where such childish things must be put away ; and, at any rate, this form of government is quite inconsistent with anything to be called Demo- cracy, and so may be dismissed from consideration. The second ideal is a reaction from this ; the common vice of the first is doing too much, and so men run to the other extreme of doing too little. Let the govern- ment protect our lives and property, securing us free- dom of action and expression, they say, and then let it leave the rest to individual zeal and enterprise. Liljeralism has, during the last fifty years, chiefly taken the direction of removing previous restrictions, and so many have come to imagine that this is what Liberalism means ; ignoring that, after all, government is a posi- tive, and not merely a negative, art. Because some laws have become superfluous, it does not follow that all laws are unnecessary ; and the political creed which pro- fesses to be most favourable to human progress, cannot consistently advocate a return to that state of unrestric- tion which is so closely allied with barbarism. Pro- gress implies increased freedom, but also increased com- plexity, in the relationships of men ; and therefore increased arrangements for regulating and developing these. In a world of which the first condition is doing something, an ideal of government founded upon doing X 2 3o8 The Coming Democracy. nothing, must surely be out of place. This ideal has been the favourite of a certain school of Eadicalism ; but such Eadicalism is now decaying, because this ideal is not that of the Coming Democracy. The policy of laissez-faire has not turned out very favourably for the masses ; because it means the unrestricted operation of that principle of competition which always favours the strong at the expense of the weak, giving more to those who have, and taking away their little from those who have not. The body of the people of England have a settled con- viction that one of the main duties of the State is to check the inequalities resulting from the open competi- tion of men as individuals. Of all ideals, the most repugnant to Democracy is that of the State merely keeping an open field, in which men may scramble as they can ; because this is most unfavourable to the wel- fare of the masses. This second ideal then, however popular it may be amongst many who are associated with democratic aims, will receive no favour from the Coming Democracy as a whole. We are driven then to the third ideal, which regards the State as the fullest embodiment of the national mind, and the highest expression of the national will. It is said that there is somebody wiser than anybody, namely everybody ; and this everybody finds its personification in the State. The nation has an entity different from that of any of the people comprising it; and this entity should be useful for higher purposes than any which men, merely as men, can effect. Collectively we have duties which fall upon none of us individually ; and the State is the largest and highest collective organisation. We all have dreams of better things, which we feel are The Lower Classes. 309 quite beyond our isolated grasp ; and so we cling to the hope that together we may realise what is hopeless to us separately. Those who have any experience in addressing multitudes, know that in every audience, properly moved, there is a spirit present which does not come from any particular hearers, but is that ot humanity itself. When it comes to action — the action of a nation — this spirit must find its body in the State ; and so, through that, must carry out its will. Nations in their highest moods are always intensely national ; which means that then they think least of their in- dividual aims, and most of those objects which can only be obtained through the instrumentality of the State. These moods, like all our best, come to us most when we are young ; and the Coming Democracy will in this respect — at least at first — have all the ardour of youth. Classes of men, like individuals, feel young when they come into new pov/er ; they step forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoice as a strong man to run a race. They believe in themselves, and so are eager to use their power. Only after they have tried to do much, and find they can do little, does that feeling of cold indifference come upon them which is creeping over the Middle Classes. These classes have had their day and done their work ; they have gained their ' ends, for all the struggles of the last three hundred years, begin- ning with the efforts of Puritanism, have been in their favour. Now the turn of the Lower Classes has come : no great movement has yet settled their position and power, so some such movement must before long be expected. At any rate it is unreasonable to suppose that when at last their opportunity comes, tliey will use 310 The Coming Democracy. it to leave things alone, or to do nothing. In proportion as their circumstances make their individual influence little, will they make much of the power which comes to them collectively ; in proportion as their individual j)ursuits are mean, will they cling to the nobility of their collective aims. Not that they need break with the past, because they cannot stand still in the present nor despair of the future ; but rather that they may blend the three, in the spirit of the poet's exhortation — " Love thou thy land with love far brought From out the storied Past, and used Within the Present, but transfused Through future time by power of thought." Such being its probable ideal, we have next to ask what use, under this influence, the Coming Democracy will be likely to make of its power. No doubt it will start with extravagant expectations ; but it will soon learn that all improvement requires, not only a con- ception of a better state, and a desire to attain to this, but also a choice of proper means. One of the first problems of politics, is to find the point where the ideal can wed itself to the possible ; and until this is found, all effort must be vain. Laws can do much, but they cannot go behind the fundamental principles of Nature, and it is these which chiefly determine the condition of a people. At first the Democracy may try, by means of the State, to deal with those evils which depend upon causes not political, and which cannot be cured by political means. As no Conserva- tism can permanently conserve what is not according to truth and justice, so no Democracy can by law effect The Lower Classes. 311 anything which does not come within the compass of law. There may be Quixotic attempts to begin with ; but the English mind is not of the sort to tilt long at windmills, and so the Coming Democracy will soon settle down to the prosaic efforts of practical politics. These will naturally be first directed to improvements for the good of the body of the people, according to the ideas of improvement which are prevalent amongst the masses. What these ideas will be, must depend upon the popular notion of what constitutes the well-being of man, in so far as this comes within the compass of political action. The public has been persistently taught, for some years past, that this well-being is to be judged solely by material tests ; that the State has no concern with what a man is or does, but that its highest success is to help him to get as much money as possible, and to pay as little. We should have no reason to wonder if the Democracy were to turn out an a})t ])upil of such teaching ; and declare, that if material comfort is the be-all and end-all of political action, it will use its own power to get more of this in tlie future for itself, even at the expense of those other classes who have taught the lesson. But there are many reasons for believing that the Democracy will not prove either so greedy or so base. The laisscz-fairc notion is going out even amongst the Middle Classes, and is not likely to come in amongst the Lower; for democracies are always prone to make too much of the national con- ception, rather than too little. If we wish to find the utmost touchiness as to national renown, and the utmost readiness to make sacrifices for it, we must go to 312 The Coming Democracy. democracies. Athens, Florence, the Dutch Eepublic, Switzerland, the United States of America, and many other names, all tell the same tale. The last is espe- cially significant : for we should expect little natural coherence in a country of such vast extent, so recently peopled, and by such a medley of races ; yet probably nowhere now on the face of the earth is there such a strong national feeling, such a dominating national influence, and such a passionate national pride. Those who would make cash-payments the sole nexus between man and man, and tables of imports and exports the sole gauges of national welfare, must look for support else- where than to democracies. The Coming Democracy, in England at any rate, does not seem likely to give such support. As our legislative tendencies have come more under democratic influence, especially during the last ten years, they have wandered farther from this ideal. Benthamism, instead of seeming likely to rule the future, is dying before our eyes : the State, instead of moving towards non-intervention, is carrying itself into regions where it was never seen before; and the Democracy promises to excel every previous master, in the vigorous and extensive use of political power. Already the Law dogs our heels pretty closely from getting up until going to bed again : it looks after our chimneys being swejjt, and our rubbish cleared away ; it arranges for water, and examines nearly everything we take for breakfast; it sends our children to school, and has an eye to the meat we eat and the liquor we drink at dinner ; it fixes what we shall pay for the support of the poor, and the embellishment of our locality ; it regu- lates our conduct when we go out, and lights our houses The Lower Classes. 313 when we return ; it knocks us up if we do not make everything secure at last, and it takes care of our pro- perty whilst we are asleep. And the modern tendency undoubtedly is to expand the sphere of State action, rather than to contract it. Most likely this is being carried too far. It is better for individuals to depend upon them- selves than upon the action of the community ; and it can be neither a sign, nor a cause, of robustness, when men fly to law to help them over every difficulty. Greek wisdom declared that the best state is where people do voluntarily that which law would compel them to do ; and this state is not likely to be helped forward by our teaching them to rely so little on themselves. But, whether for good or evil, the fact remains, that as demo- cratic influence extends. State action becomes more vigorous and far-reaching. This is a tendency which we shall have to reckon with, in forecasting the future of the Coming Democracy. We cannot be rid of royalty even by abolishing monarchy ; for a king of some sort we must have, and instead of the inert Log, we may get the too active Stork. We have to consider, also, that this tendency will be cliiefly directed by those of whose real minds we know very little. The Lower Classes are still an enigma to the rest of the community. What do they care about ? Wliat do they believe in ? Wliat do they hope for ? Do our party divisions of the masses fairly express the truth ; or are these, and most of our traditional associa- tions and cherished beliefs, but " false creations proceed- ing from the heat-oppressed brain," of the other classes, and projected upon the apparently almost blank sheet of the Lower ? Do the masses of the people really 314 The Coming Democracy. care anything at all about the Crown, or Parliament, or the Church, or any of the institutions which we think so important ? Tliese are the questions which thought- ful men are asking themselves on every side ; and for which no answer can be expected except from con- sidering tlie probabilities of character and circumstances. This consideration, so far, has led us to the conviction that the masses would not be disposed, unless driven by necessity, to make any serious change in the elements of the Constitution, or of social order ; if only for the reason tliat they are not of the sort to change anything needlessly, John Bull is a Conservative in grain ; so that appropriately the word " moral " originally meant only what was customary. When he is bound to hard, daily work, he has neither the energy, nor the inclina- tion, to bother himself about many political problems ; and his characteristic is an unwillingness to meddle with anything serious unless he thinks he is compelled. When he is roused, however, he will go great lengths, if necessary, to obtain what he has made his mind up to have. How will this disposition operate when it comes to the application of his political power to his own social circumstances ? We may consider these circumstances, accordingly as they are related to his habits, to his condition, and to Ills occupations. And first as to habits. The one thing about which an Englishman is most particular, is per- sonal liberty. Of course he knows that this can never be unqualified, for some of it has to be parted with in return for the advantages of belonging to a Community ; since it is a law that every good thing must be paid for, in one form or other. But no compulsions can be The Lower Classes. 315 patiently endured, beyond what are necessary to secure the proper freedom of others, and to carry out the proper purposes of the Community. These compulsions may be divided into two sorts ; those of constraint, compelling us to do something ; and those of restraint, compelling us to forbear something. The laws which have recently been passed about Education are an example of the first, and those which many expect will soon be passed about the Liquor Traffic are an example of the second. The people who associate the idea of Democracy with that of lawless restlessness, may learn a lesson from the willingness with which the masses have submitted to regulations about the education of their children, which are always costly to them, and often inconvenient, and sometimes irritating. In manufacturing districts, much of the wealth of the people lies in the labour of their families ; so that here is one of the few classes of society, remaining in these modern times, to which children are still the arrows of which it is so desirable to have a quiver-full. The present regulations about Education not only seriously diminish this wealth, but they also considerably increase the rates ; besides being necessarily accompanied by many arrangements calculated to cause provocation. Yet all this is contentedly submitted to, because the people have come to believe that the education thus obtained is a good and proper thing. Will the Democracy act similarly in respect to the increased restriction on its drinking habits wliich it is now proposed to put in force ? It will, if an equally good justification can be offered ; but it is here that the difficulty Hes. For whilst the masses of the people do believe that ignorance is essentially an evil, they are as 3i6 The Coming Democracy, far as ever from receiving the same opinion about alcoholic liquors. There is undouljtedly a growing aversion to excess, but not to their use in every degree. And whilst education cannot be generally secured ex- cept by compulsion, abstinence is within the power of every individual. It is a democratic axiom that men should be as far as possible treated as men ; and it cer- tainly looks like treating them as children, to prevent them, by law, from getting any of that, which many believe to be good in moderation, and from which all, who so wish, are at liberty to abstain. It is another democratic axiom that, as far as possible, all men should be treated alike ; whilst it is notorious that these Prohibi- tory Laws would operate almost exclusively against the poor. The rich w^ould have many other resources : and also it is not pretended that they need these restrictions, for nothing has lieen more marked than their altered attitude towards drunkenness, which, not long ago was customary and venial, but now has become rare and disreputable. That drunkenness is not caused by op- portunities for getting drink, is proved by the fact that those are least given to it, who have most at command. So the Democracy will naturally ask, why the process which has succeeded with the Upper and Middle classes, should not also go through with the Lower. To act as if this was not to be expected, would be to assume that the Lower Classes are generically different from the others ; which assumption the Democracy would emphatically repudiate. Indeed, those who know the most, would be the first to assert that this process is now going on ; and that in its continuance lies the best hope of the spread of Temperance. And those who are inclined to The Lower Classes. 317 be fanatical, would do well to reflect, that drunkenness is, after all, an effect rather than a cause. Men do not always fall victims to it through their baseness, but some- times through a certain nobility in their nature, giving them longings which cannot be satisfied by the dull routine of every day life. Hence the best workmen, as well as the ablest men in every department of life, and the strongest nations, are frequently most prone to it ; for those who have no unsatisfied aspirations may be very good, but they are often very dull and slow. The problem before us, is not to ignore or starve these aspi- rations, but to find them healthy outlets ; and this can only be done by making the lives of the masses more cheerful, and varied, and beautiful. It seems likely, therefore, that in regard to the habits of the masses, the Coming Democracy will favour more liberty ; striving to throw open as many pleasures as possible, and hoping to obtain a right use of these rather by the spread of a healthy spirit, than l3y the enactment of legislative restrictions, whether " permis- sive " or general. Permissive Legislation of all sorts, indeed, is out of harmony with democratic instincts ; for the masses of the people cannot draw fine distinc- tions between localities, nor understand why what is good for one sliould not be good for all. Neither will Englishmen, generally, understand that two men who oliject to beer, should be able to prevent a third having a glass who wishes ; any more than that two who like it, should be able to compel a third, who dislikes it, to drink it. Democracy above all things loves personal freedom ; and that is seriously violated when our private habits are submitted to the control of 3i8 The Coming Democracy. majorities. Of course these habits cannot be allowed to jeopardise the welfare of the community ; but the masses will never believe that this welfare can require the total exclusion of that which is a source of pleasure to many, and which is taken by most without harm to others. As to taxation generally, there is no reason to expect that the Coming Democracy will feel bound, or neces- sarily even disposed, to stick to the lines laid down by the Middle Classes. These lines lay the chief burden upon articles, such as alcoholic liquors and tobacco, of which the masses are the chief consumers. We may see much of this burden shifted to that which is the chief luxury of the other classes, namely wealth. Not only may legacy and succession duties be increased, landed property being brought in to bear a much larger share than now, but money accumulations may be taxed on an ascending scale. It may be said that this would discourage that growth of capital wdiich is so necessary to the welfare of the masses ; but experience shows that cupidity is not affected by such ulterior considerations, for we generally find those men the keenest to get money, who have the least need for it, and the least prospect of making a reasonable use of it. Men of the saving sort wdll save just as eagerly when their store has to go into an old stocking, or a hole in the earth, as when it can be laid out at good interest. Avarice is, after all, but very short-sighted, and will not be deterred by the prospect of a tax upon its gains. On the other hand, there runs through all democracies a strong feeling that it is not well for the community when wealth is excessively accumulated in a few hands. The Lower Classes. 319 Goldsmith may not have been a profound politician, but he suggested one of those truths which are often hidden from the wise and revealed to babes, when, in speaking of the growth of a very rich class, he asked the question — " Where then — ah ! where, shall poverty reside, To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride ? " — For pains, like pleasures, chiefly lie in comparisons ; and undoubtedly the state of life which must always be that of the great majority, is much more bearable when " Though iX)or the peasant's hut, his feast though small, He sees his little lot, the lot of all ; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head To shame the meanness of his humble shed." But even if democracies do not desire such a uniformity, it is certain that they dislike very great disparities ; and will be disposed to check these, by taxation which will be clearly useful to the State. In the later days of Eome, the luxury of bachelorhood was subject to an descending tax ; and the time may come when the luxury of accumulating will be similarly treated. At any rate, it is reasonable to expect that the Coming Democracy will require the pleasures of others to bear their fair share, along with those of the masses, of the burdens of the State. There is much truth in the remark made by Bacon, that " Humanity comes very hardly to little riches, and very easily to great riches ; " so that that which, though so obtained, has so many of the good things of life, cannot complain if it must put up with some of its drawbacks. Turning next to the condition of the masses, we cainiot 320 The Coming Democracy. say the prospect is such as should satisfy any believer in the democratic doctrine of the brotherhood of men. Tlie progress of a nation must be measured, not by the wealth of the few, but by the condition of the many ; and so judged, it would seem that England has not advanced anything like as much as enthusiasts would have us believe. The praises of modern progress are constantly being dinned in our ears ; we are told of the wonderful changes which have been brought about by railways, and manufactures, and newspapers, and the like ; and statistics are repeatedly compiled to show how much better off the nation is than it was in the days of our. grandfathers. But we are disappomted when we come to apply the test expressed in the homely saying that " the proof of the pudding is in the eating ;" for the masses of the people do not seem to get very much more pudding, nor is what they get of a very much better quality. The three universal tests of physical well-being are food, clothing, and housing. The food of the people may be more varied' and delicate, but it is not much more plentiful or nutri- tious ; their clothing may at times be in better taste, but it does not seem to be greatly improved either in quality, comfort, or cheapness ; and as to houses, there has cer- tainly been very little advance. The political action of the Democracy perhaps can do little to affect eitlier food or clothing, l^ut it will probably give its attention to the houses of the masses. These have been left to the tender mercies of the principle of competition, so dear to the heart of the Middle Classes ; and the result does not seem satisfactory. It has been forgotten that most people are restricted in their choice, because they must live within a certain distance of their work. If this area is allowed The Lower Classes. 321 to be occupied by rubbishy houses, the people must live in these because there are no others, and they cannot go farther away. In such circumstances, the principle of open competition is impossible ; for every house has a certain monopoly, by virtue of its monopolising a certain space. In return it should, as is the case with all mono- polies, be subject to certain restrictions ; and it is here that our arrangements have failed. We have allowed houses of all sorts to cover the ground ; though we knew that the people must live in them, and pay good rents, however badly they were built. The Coming Democracy will probably be much more particular in this respect, subjecting all house property to strict supervision, and requiring it to be built suitably and soundly. Also attention will be given to the fact, that as the improve- ments in large towns often clear away the convenient dwellings of the poor, suitable provision should be made to meet such deficiencies ; for otherwise, the people are compelled either to horde together improperly, or to pay extravagant rents, or to go too far from their work. It is evident that this matter cannot be left merely to supply and demand, for both supply and demand are subject to restrictive conditions. In such circumstances the power of the State ought to be used, and it is likely that this will be freely done under the Coming Demo- cracy. Such a change will undoubtedly be for the good of the nation, for there is a very close connection between a man's character and the house he lives in. Eigid morality cannot as justly be looked for under a rickety roof; since he who feels that his house is a sham, will not so easily preserve his own integrity. The same remarks apply to cottages in the country ; Y 322 The Coming Democracy. for labourers cannot live very far from their work, and so must take the houses provided for them, however poor and dear these may be. In many districts those upon whom the duty of providing these houses falls, persist in shirking it, in order to keep down their own rates ; so that multitudes of poor men, whose work taxes all their energies, are obliged to walk great distances and submit to great hardships. When these men get political power, they will be likely to use it to remedy such grievances, by compelling suitable dwellings to be built in suitable places. In all such questions, we must not only listen to the claims of Supply and Demand, but also to those of Humanity. Brotherhood cannot be satisfied by the mere payment of wages, for man is more than a machine. Labour cannot be considered by itself, but carries along with it the responsibility of seeing that the labourer is surrounded by suitable conditions. If this duty is not performed voluntarily by individuals, it must be taken up compulsorily by the Community ; and the Coming Democracy will not be likely to shrink from this. There is another question suggested by the lauded progress of the nation. As Popanilla was surprised at being accosted by suffering poverty on an island so com- pletely, and so successfully, rich as Vraibleusia, so we may still more wonder how it comes, that after all our astonishing improvements of every sort ; after such a development of trade, that its appliances have spread over all the land ; and such an increase of wealth, that its signs are multiplied on every hand ; we find that not only liave we the poor still with us, but that also they are almost as proportionately numerous, and at least as pro- The Lower Classes. 323 portionately distressed, as ever. We should not have so much cause to wonder if this were a recent phenomenon, resulting from a period of depressed, or at least of checked, industry ; for population rises to the level of the demands upon it, and when these diminish, it must remain, since men cannot be shut up like machinery not required foi' a time, nor broken up like machinery which will be no longer needed. Man is a machine which it takes twenty years to get ready, and twice as long to get rid of, so that the supply remains after the demand has ceased ; and such a remaining implies much suffering and im- poverishment. But this phenomenon of poverty has ac- companied all our stages of growth, increasing rather than diminishing with our increased wealth. And if this has been done in the gTeen tree, we may well tremble to think what would happen in the dry : for none of us believe that our trade has yet reached its culmination ; the slack- ening of the last few years being only regarded as a tem- porary check — a stoppage of advance, and not the begin- ning of decline. It seems, somehow, as if we have not solved the most important problem of industrial j)rogress ; namely, how to distribute the benefits of that progress fairly and generally. Whilst the rich grow richer, the poor often grow poorer ; so that prosperity, like electricity, may give a brighter light, but it may also cast darker shadows. No doubt some reason for this may be found in simple natural laws ; for increased wealth may mean increased cost of living, not only from a diminution in the purchas- ing power of money, but also from a multiplication of customary wants. So that though we pass through our fingers more " pink shells," or whatever is the medium of exchange, we may find ourselves very little better off; life Y 2 324 The Coming Democracy. may have become more complicated without being more comfortable. And whilst pressure is increased, chances of relief are diminished; for in this respect, the massing together of people tells decidedly against the poor. In small towns and country places, every settled inhabitant, however humble in circumstances, is pretty well known ; and so are the causes which have brought want upon those who are suffering from it. Even when these causes might have been avoided, so that this want is only the fit penalty of recklessness, or idleness, or dissi- pation, help is still forthcoming ; for in such communities even " the ruined spendthrift " may " claim kindred there, and have his claims allowed." But what is called " de- serving poverty " — the poverty arising from misfortune, and not from misconduct — is very rarely left unrelieved. Help is oJEfered from many quarters ; not only by direct assistance, but also by opportunities of employment, and in many other ways. Except in times of general calamity, when all have to suffer together, we shall in such places never see the righteous even humanly for- saken, nor his seed begging bread. But in large towns the case is very different, for there the poor are out of sight, and therefore out of mind. The stream of life is so strong and swift, that most of the swimmers have as mucli as they can do to keep their own heads above water; and so few have either the energy, or will, to help their sinking fellows. Not often is there a man — perhaps not often have we a right to expect one — to whom it may be said — " Still thou turnedst, and still Beckonedst the trembler, and still Gavest the weary thy hand." The Lower Classes. 325 Besides, charity, to be effectual, must be individual ; we can be touched for this or that man, but few of us can have the right feelings merely for classes. And large towns turn the poor into a class : they are made to live together ; and their occupations do not bring them into contact with others ; so that personally they are lost sight of There is a world of the poor close to us in every large town, of which those who do not belong to it, know next to nothing ; occasionally some one makes a journey into it — not merely by walking its streets, but by studying its life — and brings back some stories which thrill the charitable heart of the well-to-do. Then Organisations are formed, and even individuals roused, so that gradually all sorts of Societies are set on foot to help the poor. But none of these get beyond the fringe ; many, indeed, do much harm, and few any good. Hence it comes, that though England has probably more charitable machinery at work than the rest of Europe put together, there is no country of Europe in which there is more misery, in proportion to its wealth and general circumstances. The reason, whicli is inexorable, seems to be this ; that charity cannot be done by deputy, for the brotherhood of humanity must be individually rather than collectively expressed. Our Poor-Laws are an instance of this. Framed with the best intentions, and on a scale which, to other nations, seems reckless — worked, too, with a most ad- mirable vigour and system — we are nevertheless obliged to confess them largely a failure. They have the three too common English qualities of costliness, clumsiness, and ineffectiveness ; so that whilst they are a scare to the deserving, they are an encouragement to the unde- 326 The Coming Democracy. serving. The fault seems to be, that by such a system, the poor must be treated as a class ; and since much poverty is caused by misconduct, all poverty comes to be regarded as a crime, whereas most of it should be treated as only a misfortune. Idleness and poverty are often connected, but it is fatal to consider them as identical ; the one must be severely dealt with, but tlie other must often be handled most tenderly, if we would avoid doing more harm than good. There is more virtue in the method of charity than in its amount ; as it would have been very different if the Good Samaritan had sent a relie\'ing officer, even with twice as much to spend, instead of himself binding up the poor fellow's wounds, and setting him on his own beast, and bringing him to an inn, and taking care of him. Much of our failure in this respect must also be laid at the door of our wrong notions about poverty. Just as men have a strong tendency to become what we think them, so conditions are very apt to produce in those subject to them, the very qualities by which we gene- rally suppose them to be caused. With all our Churches and Chapels, we are yet very far from having reached a right feeling about poverty — that feeling which is so plainly commanded by our religion. We perhaps cannot deny that the poor have the promise of the Kingdom of Heaven, but we take good care tliat they shall not have much of the kingdom of earth. To the English mind, there is no hell much worse than that of not making money ; so that a sort of moral obloquy falls upon those who fail in this. Hence poverty carries with it, more or less, a loss of self-respect, and consequently a decay of courage. Its condition, instead of being made The Lower Classes. 327 temporary, by sympathy and hope, is thus very apt to become permanent, through disgrace and despair. Whether or not it is true, that God helps those who will help themselves, it seems certain that the world is most ready to help those who have helped themselves ; whilst those who most need help, are too often left without it. Johnson's description, in his Letter to Lord Cliesterfield, of the services of a patron, may with Init too much truth be applied to the world generally ; too often it " looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help." The same difficulty, though in a greater degree, attends our Criminal Laws ; for when we send a man to prison, for however short a time, we condemn him to an endless punishment. On coming out, he needs help more than ever before ; yet just then lie is least likely to get it. What wonder if he gives himself up to his evil fortune, as the poor so often do to theirs ? It is not clear that the Coming Democracy will be able to get at a better solution of this problem of poverty, but it is most likely that it will make a bold attempt. The spirit of Democracy, in so far as it is that of human brotherhood, should be best able to grapple with the difficulty. Poverty itself will always remain ; but, whilst that resulting from vice must continue to be punished, the days may come when tliat resulting from misfortune will be dealt with more generously and help- fully. Certainly a greater distinction will have to be made between these two kinds. The last aspect in which we need consider the Lower Classes is that of their occupations. It is not likely 328 The Coming Democracy. that the Coming Democracy will attempt any direct interference with these, for the days of all siich experi- ments are long past; and we might as well hope to revive the Hindoo system, by which trades rim inva- riably in castes and families. But it is in the division of the products of occupation, that we may look for changes; perhaps not accomplished suddenly, or by means of law, but resulting gradually from the fuller operation of the democratic spirit. One fact to be noted in this connection is, that the principles of Political Economy have so far made little impression upon the masses. Perhaps one reason for this is to be found in the in discriminating enthusiasm of their teachers ; who have often forgotten to premise that, at best. Political Economy must inevitably be a very partial science. It looks at man upon one side only, and that the least alluring ; dealing with him as an incomplete animal, and assuming selfishness as his primary motive. Also, in treating of Communities, it sets up merely material ideals ; and omits many qualities — such as the moral and intellectual ones — which must always be of primary importance in any high civilisation. Of course such a restriction is perfectly legitimate and necessary, for every science must define its objects and limit its axioms ; mechanics cannot take cognisance of the colours of the materials to which its laws are applied, and physiology cannot concern itself with the moral qualities associated with the bodies of which it treats. But Political Economy labours under the disadvantage of pretending to explain phenomena with which all are familiar, and over which every man is ready to sit as judge. The masses are not scientific, for they are almost The Lower Classes. 329 completely wanting in that faculty of analysing which is essential to the scientific mind. One other necessary faculty is denied them by the demands of their lot, namely that of intellectual curiosity, for this is out of harmony with habitual and fatiguing physical labour. Consequently most people are quite ready to accept the general phenomena of life without asking wdiat they mean ; it is enough for them that they are so. But they do want to know the reasons for their own par- ticular circumstances : for most of them are more or less discontented — as are most men in every position — and they are curious to see if any improvement can be made ; or at least to understand why things are as they are. So when any science on these matters is offered, they form unreasonable expectations about it; for the uneducated always, in every matter, demand impossible completeness and positiveness. If the Science which they had thought would solve the riddle, is found to only partially explain some portion of it; and if these explanations have to be modified, and are somcr times counterbalanced, by other considerations ; then this science, especially if it treats man only on his un- enthusiastic side, is sure to be condemned as incorrect, and perhaps may also be outlawed as immoral. In addition to this general drawback. Political Economy labours under the disadvantage, that two of its leading axioms, in this connection, are not of the sort to win the sympathy of the Democracy. The first of these is that one chief object of individuals, as of Communities, should be, or rather is, to get riches. Now, working men are undoubtedly always eager to raise the rate of wages, but nevertheless it may be doubted if there is 330 The Coming Democracy. any class which cares less about money for its own sake. Indeed, one general characteristic of English working men, in this respect, is that they are reckless, as is shown by the difficulty of inducing them to save. This diffi- culty may, of course, partly be caused by a deficiency of good qualities ; for thrift undoubtedly requires some ' excellent virtues, as self-denial, postponement of wishes, calculation, and regulation; but a certam absence of thrift may also arise from some good qualities, as a less grovelling disposition, or a more genial ideal of enjoy- ment. Englishmen are proverbially extravagant ; and it may be tliat tliis quality, perhaps blamable in itself, is a consequence of tlie strength and fearlessness wliich have so much to do with natural superiority. At any rate, whether it arises from good or bad causes — or, as is most likely, from a mixture of both- — it is certain tliat the masses of the Englisli people do not care supremely about riches, and do not believe that they should be tlie chief object of life, either to nations or individuals. Tliey may understand some of that truth which is ex- pressed by tlie old fable of Midas, who got wealth indeed, but with it the ears of an ass. The other axiom wliich the Democracy seems un- willing to accept, is that of the advisability of un- limited competition. The people are quite aware that competition tends to make things cheap, but they are not sure that cheapness is always the first thing to be desired. Their ideal is that life should be made as tolerable as possible, to as many people as possible ; and especially to those who are most weighted in the race. The ideal of competition is that every man should look after himself, even if the devil takes the hindmost. The Lower Classes. 331 Now these two ideals cannot easily be reconciled ; for tlie hindmost are not necessarily those wdio ought to fall into the devil's hands. Everybody knows that the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong; for the best people, just because they are so good, are often sure to fail, whilst the qualities which confer success are often objectionable and degrading. Also nature and circumstances give some men immense advantages over others ; and a just regulation of life should rather try to counterbalance these, than to in- tensify their effects. As our modern system of ex- amination helps the sharp boys at the expense of the dull ; so our modern ideal of competition may favour the welfare of the strong, and quick, and free, whilst it tells against the weak, and slow, and hampered. So competition makes inequalities greater ; whereas the democratic spirit always hankers more or less after equality, feeling that the State, like the Good Shepherd, should carry the lambs in its bosom. That there is this unwillingness to accept these two axioms, is shown by the attitude of the democratic spirit towards two chief forms of competition — namely, the external, between different nations ; and the internal, between different individuals of the same nation. As to the first, no democratic Community has ever accepted that expression of external competition which goes by the name of Tree Trade. A^Hiether we turn to Canada, or to Victoria, or to any even of our own self-governing colonies ; whether we look at the United States of America, or at France, or at any other independent Re- public ; we search in vain for a single democratic state willing to accept those principles of Free Trade which we 332 The Coming Democracy. have been taught to consider so self-evidently the best. Why is this ? It cannot be that there has not been time to learn these principles, for there is nothing so difficult in them but that thirty years of the present system of diffusion of knowledge should suffice for that ; and it cannot be that the people are too stupid to learn them, for in most of these countries they are chiefly of our own flesh and blood. There must be some reason why the voice of the charmer fails so utterly in being listened to, though he charms so very wisely; why Communities, probably as intelligent as ourselves, will not see this which is so plain to us, and wliich we think even he who runs must surely read. One reason is to be found in the aversion of the democratic spirit to unlimited competition. The people know quite well that the protection of articles increases their cost to the consumers, but they believe that it may sometimes be well to pay this, if a nation thereby becomes more self- contained and possesses a greater variety of occupations. They imagine that a nation wliich confines itself to a few means of livelihood — even though these be those for which it is naturally best fitted — must be more subject to the vicissitudes of fortune, and consequently less self- reliant. They imagine, too, that resources would remain undeveloped without some shelter for a time, and so they are willing to tax themselves that this may be afforded. The desire for national greatness is one of the strongest passions of democracies ; and those who have conversed with Americans and others on the subject, know that, after all, this feeling has most to do with the aversion to Free Trade. There is one object which they set higher than even that of getting their The Lower Classes. 333 clothes, or anything else, as cheaply as possible ; and this is, the varied development of national energy, and consequent increased fullness of national life. They cannot be satisfied with saving the most out of growing cheap corn, or producing the most of the cheapest cloth ; for tliey suspect that, even in his national relations, man should be more than a beaver or a spider. Wliether or not this democratic tendency will affect the action of the Coming Democracy in England, must depend largely upon circumstances. If, at its full advent to power, trade should happen to be bad, it is not unlikely that at first some steps will be taken in this direction. But it will soon be discovered that Free Trade is a necessity for countries with large j)opu- lations and little land. It is to be hoped, too, that the people will learn that Free Trade is also most con- sistent with the spirit of democracy in its widest application. A deceased statesman not long ago spoke warningiy of the rising spirit of Cosmopolitanism, and appealed to Nationalism as its antidote. We may rather ask ourselves whether the one is not a desirable develop- ment of the other; whether through the coherence of nations we should not strive to work out the coherence of humanity. Democracy looking out upon the world, is glad to see men knit together firmly as nations, for she knows that this is a necessary step in upward progress; but looking forward to the future, her eyes are filled with the vision of a still higher state, when all national distinctions shall be merged in the realisation of the universal brotherhood of mankind. This is not a modern dream, but was the aspiration of 334 The Coming Democracy. the wisest of the ancients. Zeno, the founder of the Stoics, held it as the highest ideal, that men should not live as belonging to separate states but all as fellow- citizens of the world. And Christianity, which is always in harmony with the best spirit of Democracy, holds out to us the same hope ; teaching us that only thus can we expect the establishment of God's Kingdom upon earth. The masses also do not believe in unlimited internal competition. Just as Free Traders, looking abroad, cannot comprehend why other nations will not accept their principles ; so, looking at home, they are equally at a loss to understand the unwillingness of the people of their own country to be guided by these principles in their business relationships. This unwillingness finds a strikmg expression in the organisation of Trades Unions. Competition would say that each man's labour should find its own value in the oj)en market ; the best workman getting the best wage, and so on, down to the worst. But Trades Unionism claims an average rate of wages ; believing it better that those who are worth more, shall not be able to get it, than that those who are worth less, shall be compelled to receive too little. This belief is based on the democratic ideal of comfortable equality ; for since the total wage-fund cannot be in- creased by any such organisation, the effect of this Trades Unionism is to make the quick help the slow, and the strong, the weak. Those who have any expe- rience, know how real is the enthusiasm of working- men generally for this principle, and how great are the sacrifices they are willing to make for it. Clever workmen, who would always be sure of good wages, and The Lower Classes. 335 of those wages becoming greater if they looked only to themselves, are generally ready to be the first to quit work, and to endure all sorts of privation, rather than that this principle shall be violated. Deep down in the heart of the masses — for its seat is there rather than in the head — lies the feeling that it is better to raise the general average of life, than to have a few far ahead, and the rest far behind. Their belief is that Humanity should move forward in a line ; so that classes, and not merely individuals, shall be al)le to gain a manlike place in the world, and thus stand in a manlike relation to others. Poets often utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand — as Goldsmith was astonished at what he had written when Johnson read it aloud — so the masses are often governed by feelings which they would not themselves recognise when put into words. It is felt, too, that the theory of competition must be greatly modified by the natural principle of population. Political Economy assumes two axioms, but the people forget that these are put forward with reservations. One of these axioms is that CajDital is transferable, so that if it does not pay in one business it can be moved to another ; but, practically, there are many difficulties in the way. Money sunk in cotton-mills, or other works, cannot be moved, but must chiefly perish, if the trades decay. Of course, more money is not then thus invested, and so a di- vergence seems to take place ; but this is rather a result of a change in the employment of new Capital, than of a transfer of the old. The other axiom is, that Labour is transferable ; but there are the same difficulties here. Especially in these days of the Division of Labour, men 336 The Coming Democracy. must be trained to one occupation, witli the result that if that fails, there is nothing else that they can do pro- perly. It may be true that the sons will learn some- thing else ; but this does not mitigate the sufferings of the fathers, who have been stranded. And meanwhile, the principle of competition is constantly being pressed by that of population. Malthusianism may be logical, but to be reasonable it requires the gift of prophecy ; for the question is not, what are the means of subsistence at the time of marriage, but what these will be when the children are grown up. Horses cannot be turned adrift when work falls short, or they will break through some hedges ; and the same holds true of men. The outlet of emigration opened up by the discovery of America, Australia, and other lands, has, so far, relieved us ; but the time must come when this outlet will be practically closed, and then we shall have to face new difficulties, and to revise old theories. Such being the general feelings of the masses, the question for us is, what expression will be given to these feelings under the Coming Democracy ? Trades Union- ism will become fully recognised as an element of our social order ; and it is also probable that the relations between Capital and Labour will be considerably modi- fied. Taking the result as a whole, for a generation past, it cannot be denied that Capital has had the lion's share of the plunder. It has created a new class, and endowed it with an affluence seldom found amongst the richest before ; whereas Labour, even if it has been taken to the golden shores of Pactolus, has picked up there little but gravel. Wages may have advanced, so that the workman can buy more beef, but not so much The Lower Classes. 337 more leisure ; and liow much he cares for this was strik- ingly shown a few years ago. Then trade was in such a condition that the workmen could secure a solid con- cession ; and they preferred to take this, contrary to the wishes of many employers, in shorter hours rather than in higher wages : and as trade has declined, they have contentedly had their wages diminished, but no one has suggested returning to the old hours. Seeing that in spite of this much-vaunted progress, the pres- sure of life grows greater rather than less ; and that, even physically, workmen still deteriorate ; we need not won- der if the Coming Democracy should one day laugh to scorn the statistics which are incessantly dinned into its ears. For statistics, like the sieves of the Danaides, often hold nothing, after all ; and are useful, not so much for giving knowledge as for preventing ignorance being foisted on us. History, even of times just preceding our own, may, as Napoleon suggested, be only a fable agreed upon ; and though it may be true that no nation has as great riches, it may also be true that none gets as little good out of them. The opinion may gain ground that this state of breathless competi- tion, instead of marking a high civilisation may cor- respond to that low aspect of Nature described in the words — " So, naturalists observe, a flea Has smaller fleas that on him prey ; And these have smaller still to bite 'em, And so proceed, ad infinitum." The Democracy may come to think that nations, like individuals, can pay too dearly for a whistle. Pdches z 338 The Coming Democracy. may not be worth the price required ; for, after all, it may turn out true that " 111 fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, "Where wealth accumulates, and men decay." So that the Democracy may not shrink from changes which promise to better the condition of the people, even though these may threaten the welfare of trade ; for, above such warnings, the poetic instinct in man may answer the call — " And, slighted Truth, with thy persuasive strain. Teach every man to spurn the rage of gain ; Teach him, that States of native strength possest. Though very poor, may still he very blest ; That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay. As ocean sweeps the laboured mole aAvay ; While self-dependent power can time defy, As rocks resist the billows and the sky." What forms such action may take cannot here be suggested, but the general tendency will be to bring about a more even distribution between Capital and Labour. This process is now going on quietly, by the spread of Co-operation ; and it will probably be extended much further. The modern tendency of manufactures to require so much capital that an impassable barrier is set against workmen becoming masters, may be rectified by the extension of the principle of Limited Liability ; as it has been carried out at Oldham and other places. Indeed, the time seems coming when nearly every great manufacture will be worked under such a system ; and this will be one of the results of the extension of thrift. The Lower Classes. 339 Savings-Bank statistics are pleasing as indicating the carefulness of the people, but painful as suggesting their impotence ; for there should surely be something better to do with the money. The working of busi- nesses by Companies will form such an outlet, and so tend to turn the masses into small capitalists. A satis- factory state will never be reached until workmen share in the profits of trade. Of course they always really do this by wages, for these rise and fall with profits, though not always proportionately. But this is only on an average ; and general results cannot arouse indi- vidual interest. The sharing which is needed must, however, follow in the natural course of things ; and cannot be established by any spasmodic effort, however energetic and philanthropic. The masses of the people are always very shy of philanthropy, for there is nothing which an Englishman more dislikes than having anything done for him. This has been the cause of the failure of nearly all the schemes — and their name is legion — that have lieen started for the good of the working men. Many of them looked quite promising, and started very well at first ; but gradually sickness crept over them, and they met an early death. The law seems to hold true here that good, to be effectual, must work from within, outwards, not from without, inwards. Only the move- ments which have so worked seem able to keep, and to increase, their vitality. This has been the case with Co-operation ; wliich in the north of England, at any rate, has already become one of the strongest civilising, and steadying, agencies. To the extension of such a prin- ciple we must chiefly look for the establishment of that z 2 340 The Coming Democracy. participation in the results of industry, which is so much desired by the Democracy ; and which will do so much good to it, and to the whole Community. Property will be safe, when the majority are owners of it ; wages will be reasonable, when those who receive them are partners in the results of their labour; work will be effective, and industrious, when the workmen feel that they are individually working for themselves ; and order will be secure, when all are directly interested in its preserva- tion. Under the Coming Democracy we may expect to see these results largely achieved. Looking thus at the prospect as a whole, there seems no reason for despair, or even for dread. Property need not fear the destruction of the distinction between meuTTi and tuum ; but every man must learn that his meuw, cannot be safely his, unless another is equally secure of his tuum. The peculiarity of the modern spirit is that it places perfection in the future, whereas the ancients believed it to lie in the past. That golden age, which Minerva taught Telemachus it should be the glory of a virtuous King to revive, we think has never yet been realised on earth ; but we hope that it may still be in store. We believe that the wheel of progress, unlike that of Ixion, keeps moving forward as well as round. Nations may rise and fall, being subject to the law of growth, maturity, and decay ; but Humanity is rescued by the higher law of evolution. Each nation in its turn leaves something which raises the general level, as coral insects build up their reefs from the depths ; so we may hope that at last Humanity will be lifted into the steady sunshine. Meanwhile The Lower Classes. 341 many changes may have to be endured ; for surely we must all know that we are not yet what we should be; surely we must all feel the truth of the poet's words : — " Before man parted for this earthly strand, While yet upon the verge of heaven he stood, God put a heap of letters in his hand. And bade him make of them what word he could. And man has turned them many times ; made Greece, Kome, England, France — yes, nor in vain essay'd Way after way, changes that never cease ! The letters have combined ; something was made. But oh ! an inextinguishable sense Haunts him that he has not made what he should ; That he has still, though old, to recommence, Since he has not yet foimd the word God would." Still the word " impossible " must not yet escape his lips, but he must exclaim against it, as did Mirabeau, " Ne me dites jamais ce bete de mot ; " he must answer emphatically " No " to the desponding question — " Is our civilisation a failure, Or is the Caucasian played out ? " But faith is an essential principle of politics as of re- ligion ; and with a Democracy, this must be faith in the people themselves. Machiavelli, speaking of the folly of the Samnites in letting off the Roman army after making it pass under the yoke, teaches that there is no mean, in dealing with the people, between trust and fear. The day of fear has gone past, so that of trust must take its place. And there seems now to be suffi- cient justification for this feeling. We must not be led 342 The Coming Democracy. by the opinions of others, for we have different data to go upon. Aristotle judged of democracies by those of his own time on the shores of the Mediterranean ; and De Tocqueville had chiefly the United States of America in his mind ; but we must take into account the condition and character of our own people. There may then be some reason for fear, but there will cer- tainly be much more for hope. It is said that the multitude have no judgment; but the comparison of them with others, in this respect, is much like that between the French, who act more wisely than they speak, and the Spaniards, who speak more wisely than they act. Un- educated people speak out more immediately than others, and so do all their thinking aloud. But on this account we must not pin them so closely to their first expres- sions ; nor blame them so much if they change from these. As to the general charge of fickleness, it is so far true that multitudes, of any class, are always thus guilty. If massmg men brings out some of their best qualities, as enthusiasm and self-sacrifice, it also brings out some of their worst, as mental impotence and moral cowardice ; and, above all, a constant liability to panic. What is every one's business, is mostly no one's, when that business is to think clearly about a current opinion, or to act calmly under a current feeling. Gentle and simple are very much alike when they are taken in mobs ; andthe chief advantage wliich the first have comes from education. Such education as can give this dis- cipline, is now placed within the reach of the majority ; so that this majority should become as much qualified as was formerly the minority. If Plato was right in The Lower Classes. 343 assuming that government should be based upon tht- quality of the people, then we may also assume that, as more reach that quality, more should be admitted to share that government. And there are many signs that more are reaching this quality. The people generally are better informed, fairer in conduct, more deliberate in judgment, and less easily deceived. They may be too readily led away by appearances, as the rule of Demosthenes about public speaking seems to suggest that the populace has always been ; but happily they soon come back again. Then they are charged with fickleness; but very often this is rather because the leaders have deserted the paths of wisdom, than because the people have deserted the leaders. The feelings which make us despondent in politics, are very much the same as those which give us tliis mood in other matters. Tear is a stronger counsellor than Hope ; and so it is hard to persuade ourselves that the future can ever be as bright as the past. But facts must come in to our help ; and there are many such to give us hopefulness. Our countrymen may be rough, but they are not rash ; they may be obstinate, but they are not unfair ; they may sometimes give way to fits of passion, but they soon come back to their prevail- ing mood of practical common sense. Indeed, the masses of the people are very like everybody else ; as any one will find who lives much amongst them, or even some- times mingles in a crowd. The first dozen men we meet in the street, if gathered together, would differ from the Cabinet of the country in opinion, temper, and 344 The Coming Democracy. even ability, far less than is generally supposed. The dropping of our social distinctions, leaves us almost as much alike as does the casting of our clothes. And when we reflect that these people are bound together by a strong national spirit, we may cheerfulh' in politics obey the spirit of Goethe's exhortation — " Keep not standing — fixed and rooted ; Briskly venture, briskly roam ; Hand and head, where'er thou foot it. And stout heart, are still at home." BOOK III. THE DEMOCRACY AW UUGIO^. THE DEMOCEACY AND RELIGION. It may be tliouglit unnecessary to include the con- sideration of Eeligion in connection with the Coming Democracy. Two reasons especially may be given for this opinion : one, that democratic ideas favour the total separation of Eeligion from Politics ; and the other, that democratic feelings are drifting away from sympathy with Eeligion altogether. If the second is true, the first must follow as a matter of course ; for there can be no political connection of importance with a Eeligion which is itself unimportant. But let us ask first, whether it is the natural tendency of the spirit of Democracy to require the separation of Eeligion from Politics. Undoubtedly, many of those who are supposed most truly to express democratic aspirations, and who cer- tainly are identified most closely with democratic move- ments, do unhesitatingly, even enthusiastically, believe that Eeligion and Politics must, in the future, become more and more widely separated, until finally they have no connection at all with each other. We are told that this opinion is supported strongly by the instances of the United States of America, where this separation is said to have been so successful in the Past ; and by that of 348 The Coming Democracy. France, where it is believed to be so inevitable in the Future. But in Politics it is especially necessary to distinguish between what is accidental and what is essential ; for temporary traditions, or extraneous prejudices, are very apt to be mistaken for eternal and integral parts of a creed. So we have to ask ourselves, not whether it is generally thought that, under a Democracy, Eeligion must be separated from Politics, but whether the spirit of Democracy requires such a separation. As to this. History, in the first place, would not lead us to expect such a separation as a permanent con- dition of Democracy. Even in the two instances named, Eeligion has had more effect upon the political institu- tions than any other single influence ; remembering that the term Eeligion includes the whole religious feeling, whether operating in favour of some particular religion, or in opposition to it. Puritanism has, so far, chiefly moulded the character of the North American Eepublic : and the first Eepublicans of France only turned from one Deity to set up another ; whilst the last are most governed by opposition to Eeligion, as now presented to them. We find the same principle, however far back we go. The Hellenic ideal of a State was not the aggregate of individual interests, but the collective promotion of moral ends ; so that the term TroXt? rather expressed our notion of eKKXrjaia, than any merely civil meaning. In Eome, the highest civil and ecclesiastical functions met in the same person ; and in both Greece and Eome political power and religious faith declined simul- taneously. When Eeligion ceased to be the foundation The Democracy and Religion. 349 of moraKty, and morality the foiindation of Politics, Eeligion degenerated into superstition ; and Morality into philosophy ; and Politics into anarchy. And this has held true down to the present time. It is religions, and not kings, or statesmen, or races, which make history ; it is the finger of Religion which has always been the chief drawer, and changer, of political maps. The evils of the separation are mutual ; for as Politics cannot long survive apart from Religion, neither can Religion long thrive apart from Politics. Christianity has never yet become general, except by emigration, in any extensive territory outside the limits of the old Roman Empire; whilst it has died away even in the countries from which it first sprang, and over which it first gained most influence. How stands it now in the regions of the Churches of the Apocalypse, and of those of Alexandria and Carthage ? How even in Galilee, where Christ was born ; and in Judsea, where He died ? The principles of the Reformation, too, have never become powerful except where they were allied with the Civil Power. As a result of examining the Past, we find that there have been governments in which the religious was sub- servient to the political, and others in which the political was subservient to the religious, but none in which the religious and the political have been, for any length of time, kept separate. This suggests that God has joined what man cannot keep asunder. Is there good reason to expect in the future, in England, that which has never been realised anywhere in the past ? Our own history does not support such an expectation. Nearly all our great political changes 3 so The Coming Democracy. have pivoted upon Eeligion. "We cannot think of the Eeformation without Erastianism ; or of the Revohition without Puritanism ; or of the Restoration without Eoman Catliolicism. And at the present time, we cannot, in thought, separate Politics from Eeligion, in England, or Scotland, or Ireland. How — leaving out Eeligion — shall we explain why Nonconformists are nearly all of one political party ; why Scotchmen are nearly all Liberals ; and why Ireland cannot be governed like the rest of the United Kingdom ? So it must ever be. Weary with the difficulties of working them together, man may decree that henceforth Eeligion and Politics shall be separated from each other ; but such a division can be little more lasting than one made in water by a stick. Man may propose, but God will dispose, according to the principles of natural laws, one of which is that Eeligion and Politics must meet on the common ground of moral life ; which ground is that upon which all civilised forms of government have to take their stand. We cannot separate what should be done, from the method of doing it ; and Eeligion teaches the one, whilst Politics teaches the other. It may be said, however, that even if religious feeling is the chief motive of political action, it does not follow that this feeling need come within the sphere of the State. The State ought to have nothing to do with feelings, but should leave them to themselves; only taking cognisance of the actions, affecting the State's welfare, in which they express themselves. This is undoubtedly true of many kinds of feeling, but the religious has certain peculiarities which place it in a category by itself. One of these is, that it The Democracy and Religion. 351 always chiefly determines the ideal of the State ; and the other is, that at any time it may become sufficiently predominant to control the action of the State. At such times, either Politics must be connected with Eeligion, or the State must lose its supremacy. The question at the English Eeformation was, not whether the State should confer its alliance upon the Church, but whether the State or the Church should be master in the land. Such crises are sure to keep recurring ; and at each it will be made manifest, either that the State must lose the pre-eminence essential to its welfare, or that there must be a close connection between Eeligion and Politics. If this connection has, meanwhile, been broken, it must at such times be restored ; so that its continuance aj^pears to be the natural law of political well-being. Especially will this hold good with democracies : for though government by the masses is at times apt to be partial and negligent, it is always sure, when roused, to liecome so absorbing as to bear no rival near its throne ; and to shrink from interfering with no obstacle which may impede its powder. Under no form of government have the Church and the State been able to get per- manently away from each other ; and, least of all is this to be expected under a Democracy. Having come to the conclusion that democratic ideals do not favour the total separation of Eeligion from Politics, we turn to the next consideration — whether de- mocratic feelings are drifting away from sympathy with Eeligion altogether. Are they so drifting in England at present, and are they likely so to drift still more ? Many appearances would lead us at first to answer in the affirmative ; though we cannot deny that new 352 The Coming Democracy. •places of worship keep being built ; and that the ministers of Religion work with a zeal, and their people support them with a self-sacrificing energy, never ex- celled ; that there are more religious organisations, and that most of these are more active, than ever before. But when we go below appearances, we find that, whilst much is being done for the people, very little is being done by them ; and we know that one of the first axioms of democratic health is that the people must do for themselves. The commonest barn put together by the voluntary labour of the worshippers ; the smallest subscription accumulated by the pence of the poor ; speaks more, and will do more, for Eeligion, than the costliest church, or handsomest gift, coming from the few. How, in this respect, stands the case with us ? We must confess that nearly everything is done by the few ; and that we do not expect the masses to build churches, for we are more than satisfied if they them- selves will only come to the churches which others have built for them. We must confess, too, that they will not even do this ; for whilst the rich, and the comfort- able, and the poor, are fairly represented, the great majority of the working people are conspicuous by their absence. But it is not merely in the matter of attendance that the charm seems to fail, for the failure extends to religious influence in every form. Most ministers of Eeligion have to acknowledge, with sadness, that in no way can they properly get hold of the real masses of the people. Orpheus may pipe, but men, to say nothing of beasts, will not dance, nor even stop to The Democracy and Religion. 353 listen to his strains. In most districts, if the best workman be sent for to repair something in the church, he will turn out to be a man who rarely enters it for any other purpose. It is always difficult to ascertain the real feeling of one class towards another, for classes are almost as separated as nations ; but taking the English working-men as a rule, they seem to regard ministers of Eeligion, generally, with a sort of half- smiling toleration. They look upon them as a well- meaning, but weak set of men ; rather narrow in their views, very unpractical in their conduct, and generally much too prone to sentimentality and womanishness. If one word must be chosen to describe the feeKng, " soft " would come nearest the truth ; in the spirit of the Italian proverb — " So good that he is good for notliing." It must be acknowledged that there is no feeling of hostility, such as exists in France and Italy, towards Eeligion and its ministers, amongst the masses of the people. The obstacle is not opposition, but indiffer- ence ; women and children are influenced, but the men seem to regard Eeligion as no concern of theirs. But if we wish to foretell the future, we must look beyond the present temper of the masses, and consider the influences by which their opinions are being formed. These influences are to be sought, not in any set of men, whether considered leaders of the working-classes or not ; but in certain systems of thought, which have got a hold of the minds of the masses and are gradually forming their convictions. All the secular utterances of our time have their origin in two or three simpl assumptions ; and must be met there if they are to be 2 A 354 The Coming Democracy. nullified. Thus the future is to be found in the influ- ences now at work, as the harvest lies in the seeds whose shoots are perhaps not yet above ground. So far as Eeligion is concerned, there are three such systems of thought requiring consideration. These are, the Scientific, the Philosophical, and the Political. This division is justified on the ground that the first axiom of Eeligion is the existence of God ; and every influence is antagonistic to Eeligion which tends to eliminate this existence from any sphere of life, since neither the masses, nor any one else, will long believe in a God who is not necessary. The realm of being, over the whole of which such a necessity must prevail if Ee- ligion is to continue, may be divided into three parts, the material, the mental, and the moral. Now, Science lias to do with the first. Philosophy with the second, and Politics with the third ; and if all, or any of these, can convince the masses that God can be, and is, done without, the influence of Eeligion upon the masses, in so far as they are reasonable beings, must eventually cease. Let us then consider how far Science, and Philosophy, and Politics, are likely to succeed, in this direction, with the Coming Democracy. Two things must, however, be premised. One of these is, that Eeligion does not depend chiefly upon thought, but has its principal root in feeling. It cannot remain long so rooted, however, if thought is against it ; for the continuance of Eeligion requires that " heart and mind, according well, shall make one music, as l^efore." But as we cannot reason about feeling, we con- fine our attention to thought. The second thing is that Science, and Philosophy, and The Democracy and Religion. 355 Politics, are of course not to be supposed necessarily antagonistic to Eeligion. It is customary to consider them as opposed to faith, whereas they should be complementary. Faith should transcend knowledge ; but in so far as it opposes the knowledge which is true, it cannot endure. It is said that there is such an opposition growing up between Science, and Philosophy, and Politics, on the one hand, and Pteligion on the other ; and we have only to consider how far this is true. Science can be antagonistic to Pteligion generally, in so far as it can account for material phenomena without the assumption of a God ; and to the Christian Eeligion, in so far as it can disprove the credibility of the docu- ments through which this Pteligion is believed to be made known. How far may we expect it to succeed in these two directions ? As to the first, it is understood that so far as material phenomena are concerned, belief in the existence of a First Cause is the foundation of Eeligion. Is Science likely to undermine this belief, which is a natural instinct of Humanity ? Now, whilst fully acknowledging the wonderful discoveries of Science — especially in these latter days — we cannot help seeing that they do not touch, in the least, the foundation of this belief ; for they do not solve, in the least, the ultimate problem of causa- tion. Science keeps revealing to us fresh knowledge of the processes of Nature, but it does not teach us anything more of the causes of these processes ; nor of the great cause of all material processes. We may have all know- ledge of how this comes from that, and yet be no nearer the why ; so that even if every process of Nature were 2 A 2 35^ The Coming Democracy. laid bare to the human understanding, the old country roundelay would remain as true as ever — " Why oats, or beans, or barley grows, Neither you nor any one knows." Therefore it does not seem likely that the scientific scepticism which has touched so many of the educated classes, will ever gain much influence over the masses of the Coming Democracy. The practical character of their every-day life will be their safeguard ; for they have no experience of change without force, or of effect without cause : so that even if they are shown that man has been developed from an initial spot of jelly, they will still ask what has made him be so developed; and how he could have come out of that spot unless he was first in it. A miracle becomes none the less mira- culous because we have learnt some of its stages ; and the whole problem of creation must remain as great a miracle as ever until man has gained an insight into its principles. So far, the fact stares us in the face, that all the manufactories of the world put together cannot manufacture a single ounce of anything, but can only arrange what has been otherwise manufactured. There may be some chance for atheism when its supporters have solved the problem of perpetual motion; or made anything, however small, out of nothing. Until then, the masses will persist in believing that the perpetual force, which they feel about them everywhere, must have a cause ; and that the creation, which they see going on about them everywhere, must have a Creator. Instead of the scientific hypotheses of the day — put The Democracy and Religion. 357 forward as ultimate explanations — winning over the masses, it seems more likely that such scepticism will be undermined by a scepticism going deeper ; as the ancient naturalists, who explained the holding-up of the earth by the hypothesis of the shoulders of Atlas, were upset by the scepticism which asked upon what Atlas himself stood. Atomic theories, from Democritus to Leibnitz, have never touched the radical difficulty : nor does the modern hypothesis of the persistence of force ; for people will ask at once, whence that force, and whence its ability to persist ? Whether or not it be true, as most ancient philosophers thought, that the First Cause created the cosmos at the beginning, and then left it to go on of itself; it remains just as evident as ever, so far as Science is concerned, that there must have been a First Cause : and this is all that Eeligion requires. It is most likely that when the disturbance caused by new knowledge — as by the descent of the angel into tlie pool — passes away, mankind will come out reli- giously strengthened. For truth is never false to truth : so that Science, in so far as it is really knowledge, can never permanently lead the mind away from that in- fluence to which all knowledge is due ; and whose highest function is to lead men into all truth. After each new discovery, man's first impulse is to admire his own cleverness in making it ; but this soon gives way to a sense of increased admiration for the power to which is due that which he has discovered. The logic which would infer that, when that which seemed simple is found complex, therefore it must have had no maker ; will make no way with the masses, who are accus- tomed to the assumption that the more intricate and 358 The Coming Democracy. accurate the machine, the more skilful and perfect the maker. With respect to the probable effects of Science upon the Christian Eeligion, in invalidating the credibility of the Bible, we have to remember that all statements of everything, including Eeligion, are suljject to two weak- nesses ; namely, the inadequacy, and misinterpretation, of language. God might have revealed His Eeligion to mankind supernaturally ; He might have bidden the winds whisper it, or the stars spell it out ; or He might have made the writers His penholders, instead of His pen- men. But the history of every book of the Bible shows that He has chosen to express Himself through human beings, who were subject to the ordinary conditions of Humanity. And one of these conditions is that all lan- guage, even the most accurate, but half reveals, whilst it half conceals, the truth within. If in poetry — " Heard songs are sweet, but socgs unheard Are sweeter far," so in all use of language, a thought is only half itself as soon as it has taken form in words. Thus the Bible must be read with the understanding, that it can be no complete expression of the mind of God ; for it cannot exhaust, but only suggest. Even if it could be a complete expression, however, it must still be liable to the weakness of misinterpre- tation : for if God had Himself written it, it is men who have to read it ; and men are subject to the two dangers, of not reading rightly what is there, and of reading into the language meanings which are not there. It will probably turn out that all the supposed The Democracy and Religion. 359 discrepancies between the teachings of Science and those of the Bible, have arisen from one of these two causes of error ; especially from the last. Again and again it has been believed that some great discovery was mani- festly opposed to the Bible ; and so Churches have been terrified and discoverers terrorised ; but soon it has appeared that the mistake arose from meanings being read into the words of the Bible which they were never meant to convey. Now our faith suffers no weakening though we all believe in that Copernican system, which the Church once thought irreconcileable with Biblical language ; and though we all disbelieve in that witcli- craft, which even Wesley thought was an essential part of Biblical truth. At last the spirit of the times has come to disbelieve in using the Bible as a guide to Natural Philosophy ; and to believe in accepting it as, what alone it pretends to be — a guide to Pteligion. Against such an acceptance Science can offer no obstacle. Instead of tliis, Science is helping to give back to Biblical conceptions their pristine completeness and beauty. The natural tendency of Humanity, when left alone, is to associate the Deity only with the abnormal, so that God is merely brought in as a cause when no other is known ; what is thus won for Law, being so much taken from God. But Science, by showing that the world is an organism and not a mechanism, is not superseding Divinity, but is making it universal ; and so is vindicating the Biblical declaration of the omnipre- sence of God. In one sense it may be true that, as mind and matter are opposite poles, so Science, which is con- cerned with the relative, must be opposed to Eeligion, which is concerned with the absolute : but in a far 360 The Coming Democracy. wider sense these two are complementary to each other ; for while Science teaches that there must be an omni- present power outside ourselves, Religion teaches that this is our Father. Science is thus the pioneer of Eeligion, making us feel the need of that which Eeligion reveals — " If with all your hearts ye truly seek Me, ye shall ever surely find Me." And Science, by treating Nature as " the living gar- ment of God," is helping to bring back Eeligion to that anchorage in this world from which men are always so prone to break it away. Of all the vices inherent to Humanity, probably superstition is the strongest and most universal ; and this shows itself in the tendency to treat this world as of no account, and so to make Eeligion a mere trick for doing well in the next. Nothing can be more opposed to this than the spirit of the Bible, which constantly exults in the beauties of Nature. It teaches us that it is God from Whom the lions seek their prey ; it is from Him come the grass and the corn, the oil and the wine : the sea with its fishes, the fields with their cattle, the trees even with their birds' nests, all declare His glory ; it is He who clothes Himself with light as with a garment. Who also bids us mark the sparrows and consider the lilies. Throughout the Bible, from the first page to the last, there breathes a fresh sense of natural enjoyment, the want of which makes the religious conceptions of our time so partial and sickly ; and the revival of which will be neces- sary, before Eeligion can become the manly reality the Bible declares it to be. No Eeligion will long commend itself to the Democracy from which this spirit is absent ; so that Science, by helping its revival, will ultimately The Democracy and Religion. 361 encourage the extension of religious influence over the masses. So Science may help Religion, not only by bringing men back to that true instinct which made the ancients give the Supreme a name meaning light, or brightness ; and by teaching that a world which is so wonderful to mechanical eyes, cannot any longer be unholy to sacerdotal ones; but also by intimating that even its doctrine of evolution may, after all, be but one aspect of the truth of Christianity, suggesting how G-od may be reconciling the material world to Himself by making it better, and so more like Him. Turning next to Philosophy, we find that it can be antagonistic to Religion in general, in so far as it can account for mental and moral phenomena without the assumption of a God ; and to the Christian Religion in particular, in so far as it can convict the Bible of being unreasonable. It may be thought that Systems of Philosophy can have little to do with the masses, but reflection shows that nothing has so much influence over their conduct. In Politics, the various actions of a nation for long periods may be traced to a few ideals ; so tliat it is not monarchs, or statesmen, who really rule, but thinkers. In the same way in Religion, the movement comes from those who start the opinions which ultimately become generally influential. Such opinions are mostly very few in number ; and even these have often, in reference to certain sub- jects, only one common origin. This is the case with Religion ; for if we examine the arguments in the sceptical literature of the day which is read by the 362 The Coming Democracy. masses, and in the sceptical lectures which they listen to, we find that all these arguments can be traced to a few theories originally started by philosophers. These theories can, in their turn, be mostly traced to a single influence. The influence of this sort with which we have to reckon, in the present connection, is that which may be called the System of Experimental Philosophy. Tliis system traces all mental and moral phenomena to experience ; not merely as their active cause, but also as their source. For example, the child learns to love its mother, not from an innate affection, but because pleasant sensations set up a train of corresponding associations, and these beget a feeling which we call love. This system would not come within our consideration if it were only concerned with such matters ; but it is of vital importance because it pretends to find in man himself the sole origin, not only of our mental phe- nomena, but also of our standard of right and wroncr. Tor though it may be parody to say that, according to this philosophy, " Triendsliip and Patriotism are but mesmerised brain ; Taith a mistake of the stomach ; Love a titillatory movement occurring in the upper part of the nape of the neck ; Immortality the craving of dyspepsia ; God a fancy produced by a certain pressure upon the grey part of the hasty-pudding within the scull ; " still it remains true, that if the exterior world and our own natures are sufiicient to account for all our experience; and if our own feelings are to be the ultimate standard of good and evil, that is, of right and wrong ; then the assumption of a God is superfluous, and the belief in Him unnecessary. Undoubtedly the religious outlook would be dark if The Democracy and Religion. 363 tliis philosophy was likely to become generally accepted. For certainly the standard of duty must be found either in a will outside us, or in our own will ; if no such ex- ternal will — that is, no God — is believed in, then " good " can only mean what men find most pleasant in the long run, and " right " only what men find most effective in securing this. Eeligion, in any proper sense of the term, must then cease to exist, and must be replaced by enlightened selfishness as a chief rule of action. But is the Coming Democracy likely to accept the principles of this Philosophy ? Present appearances may seem to answer in the affirmative, but we have to remember that, with systems of Philosophy, as with tides, there is an ebb as well as a flow. Anything new comes on at first, if it comes on at all, with a rush ; but eventually it has to run back to the tide-line of truth. The English mind seems to have, in this respect, no settled bent, but to alternate between Utilitarianism and Tractarianism ; sometimes leaning to Benthamism, at others to Puritanism or Sacerdotalism — these two last having, in this connection, a common origin. The tide-line of truth will be receded to wdien the Democracy begins to consider that, even if our mental and moral phenomena be the results of development, there must still be a reason why experience thus acts. This could not happen, unless men had first a potentiality for being thus affected, and for producing, by develop- ment, such results. So the difficulty of causation is, at best, only put a stage back, and we are still driven to find a cause for this potentiality. The necessity of finding a First Cause , is not affected by the difference between a single innate faculty of development, and 364 The Coming Democracy. various innate faculties. We are still where we were, so far as the elements of Eeligion are concerned, even if the doctrine of development be accepted in its fullest sense ; for Science cannot by it adequately account for material phenomena, nor can Philosophy by it adequately account for mental and moral phenomena. Tills deficiency is likely to be found out by the Coming Democracy: for such a Democracy is sure to be pre- eminently practical ; and no practical mind can rest satisfied with a theory which assumes that, because we understand processes, therefore these processes need not have a cause. The masses of the people will hold to the axiom that all effects must have causes ; and that, there- fore, the mental and moral phenomena which they find in themselves, must have a cause outside themselves, since no sufficient one can be found within. This external cause is an essential part of Eeligion, for it is included in the idea of God. So Philosophy is not likely, in this sense, to undermine the basis of Eeligion. Will it be more successful in showing that the reve- lation of the Christian Eeligion is unreasonable ? As Science would assume that the Bible is untrue, because of its material statements ; so Philosophy would persuade that it is unsound, because of its moral ideals. The chief ideal to be selected in this connection is that of Progress ; because Progress is tlie very essence of democratic aspiration. Now it is said that the teachings of the Bible are irreconcilable with this Progress, both as to its objects and its methods : for Progress of any kind requires Material Progress to begin with ; and this Material Progress requires devotion to objects which are condemned by the Bible. Also such Material Progress The Democracy and Religion. 365 can only be obtained by methods directly opposed to those which are inculcated in the Bible. The World and the Bible are opposed to each other : indeed, this is a fundamental Biblical axiom ; and since the spirit of the Democracy is that of the World, the Democracy and the Bible must be opposed to each other. Now here the finger is laid upon what seems to be an undeniable inconsistency in our modern Christianity ; for when we go to Church, we talk and sing as if money should not be thought much of, nor sought much after ; yet when we go out into life, we all feel justified in tliinking a good deal of it, and seeking very earnestly after it. Nor can our material necessities offer much excuse ; for these go a very little way, and can only be brought in by, including what must, for the most part, be confessed to be comforts and luxuries. Plainly, Christianity is doomed, unless it can be shown to be consistent with such comforts and luxuries, in reason ; for it is certain that the Coming Democracy will believe in these in the future, as the vast majority of professing Christians undoubtedly believe in them now. Tliis apparent inconsistency alienates multitudes from Eeligion ; for the masses of the people have great admiration for thorough-going asceticism, and also for worldly comfort, but utter unbelief in any system which praises the one, whilst it pursues the other. Does Christianity praise such asceticism ? Does the Bible teach that the comforts and luxuries which, prac- tically, we all aim after, ought not to be desired? Undoubtedly many earnest believers have understood such asceticism to be an essential part of the teaching of Christianity ; as, indeed, it makes its appearance in 366 The Coming Democracy. every Keligion, even the least enlightened. So we find the Pythagoreans amongst the Greeks, the Essenes amongst the Jews, the Therapeutte amongst the Egyptians, the Fakirs amongst the Hindoos, and nume- rous ascetic societies amongst the Buddliists. So, too, Christianity has produced its Nazarites and Anchorites, its Monks and Puritans, its Quakers and Sliakers. All these movements have had their origin in the Platonic idea of the antagonism of mind and matter : teaching that if we would cultivate the mind, we must shelter it from the influence of matter ; if we would elevate the soul, we must withdraw it from contact with the world. But surely one of the primary doctrines of Christianity, as supremely inculcated in the Incarnation, is the union of mind and matter; the reconciliation of soul and body. The Founder of Christianity, " Who came eating and drinking," did not bid us wish to " be taken out of the world," but " to be kept from the evil ; " did not condemn the flesh, and the eye, and life, themselves, but only " the lust of the flesh," and " the lust of the eye," and " the pride of life." Asceticism, as tlie word informs us, was originally not opposed to physical excellence, but was only the dis- cipline necessary to obtain this ; and the first book of the Bible tells how the material world was given over to man for his good. Christianity claims to bring back that primitive state, by restoring man to the condition necessary to enjoy it. So Christianity is not opposed to reasonable comforts and luxuries, but welcomes these as attempts made by man to utilise some of those bounties which God has provided for his service. Thus the aspiration of tlie Democracy, in this respect, and The Democracy and Religion. ^6^ the teachings of Christianity, are not contradictory but coincident. Worldliness and Christianity agree in wish- ing to make men happy, but they differ in the method of doiniT this. No doubt there is amongst the masses of the people, not only in our own country but throughout the civi- lised world, an increasing desire for enjoyment; and Christianity meets this feeling, not by condemning, but by guiding it. This guidance consists in pointing out to men the only road to real happiness. To justify this guidance, we have no occasion to appeal to any supernatural sanctions, for we need not go beyond historical experience. In every age man has been seeking the summum lonum, and has some- times believed that he would find it in conquest^ some- times in learning, sometimes in material progress, sometimes in political changes ; but from every such search he has returned empty-handed, having failed to touch the golden fleece. Christianity comes and wliispers in liis ear that the way to find happiness is not to seek it ; that the true secret of enjoyment is within and not without. The truth of this message is confirmed by our in- dividual experience, and will ultimately be accepted by the collective testimony of mankind. So it will be recognised that the ideal of Humanity is also that of Christianity; and that the method of Christianity is the only one by which this ideal can be realised. We come, lastly, to the Political objections ; the chief of which are, that the religious ideal is irreconcilable with political progress ; and that the influence of the Christian Church has been opposed to political freedom. 368 The Coming Democracy. As to the first, if political progress means democratic development, there may seem to be some irreconcil- ability with Eeligion ; for all Eeligion, and especially Christianity, is founded upon the ideal of monarchy, which implies obedience, whereas Democracy implies self-government. But the self-government of Demo- cracy cannot be absolute ; for unless it is carried on in obedience to numerous inexorable laws of Nature, mate- rial and moral, it must end in disaster. As no nation can by any Act of Parliament free itself from the laws of arithmetic or gravitation, so none can escape from the necessity of obeying the multitude of principles which are essential to the stable w^elfare of individuals and Communities. But a self-government so modified is just what is offered by Eeligion ; and especially by the Christian Eeligion. God plainly declared to the children of Israel the principles which constituted His will, and which they must obey if they would prosper ; but He left them to please themselves about obedience : He even, as in the matter of having a king, assisted them when they were resolved upon disobedience. So Eeligion now makes knowm the conditions upon which alone permanent welfare can be secured ; but it leaves all men at liberty to accept, or reject, them : it points out the way, but compels no one to walk in it. Thus Democracy and Eeligion work on the same plan : for both allow self-government; whilst both understand that such self-government, to be successful, must obey certain principles which are outside man's control. But it is said that Eeligion, vvhich is concerned with duties, must be opposed to Politics, which is concerned with rights. It appears, however, that rights and duties The Democracy and Religion. 369 must be always correlative ; for no person can receive any right, except some other person performs the corre- sponding duty : rights without duties being like money which mil buy nothing. And when we come to examine these " rights " which are said to be the essence of political progress, we find that even they have no stable existence outside the sanctions of Eeligion. For there can be but two claimants for social rule. Might and Eight ; and Might must prevail unless Right is sufficiently strong to resist. But Right can only possess this strength when it rests upon Religion, for thence only can be derived any sufficiently strong sense of duty. Science, in laying open to us the workings of Nature, only reveals the omnipotence of force ; and Philosophy, in analysing the workings of the mind, cannot get beyond the motive of selfishness. But force and selfishness mean the unmitigated tyranny of the strong, and so are opposed to every true democratic ideal. We must seek elsewhere a basis for the "rights" of Democracy : and this can only be found in the motive of Religion ; for otherwise, no reason can be given why any man, who is not compelled by force, should believe in, or accede to, such " rights." Unhappily it has come to pass, through previous distortions and corruptions, that now " the rights of man " are often spoken of as inconsistent with " the rights of God ; " so that many of those who consider themselves the truest friends of Democracy, are opposed to Religion, or, at least, indifferent to it. But such an idea, wliich originated in the circumstances of the Frencli Revolution, must eventually disappear ; for it 2 B 370 The Coming Democracy. must become plain to all men, that the very concep- tion of Democracy is based upon assumptions which have no warrant outside the Christian Eeligion. All political liberty depends upon the belief that we have duties to our fellow-men, and tliis belief we owe to Eeligion ; whilst all democratic liberty depends upon the belief that all men are our fellow-men, and this belief we owe to the Christian Eeligion. So Eeligion not only has always been, but also must always remain, the true mother of political progress. It is also not true that the influence of the Christian Church has been opposed to political freedom. This impression has arisen because some of the officers of that Church, including many of the clergy of the Church of England, have individually oppposed various legal changes which extended the freedom and power of the people. But in judging a great institution, we must look at its general influence, and not at the conduct of some of its members. When we do this, the mistakes which are most present to the minds of this generation fall back into insignificance. For all along the ages, we find that Christianity, from its birth to the present day, has been the most powerful of all the influences wliich have improved the political condition of the people. What was it which softened that imperialism of mere brute force which everywhere reigned unchecked, before the Christian era ? Wliat was it M^hich undermined that custom of slavery, which was the central fact of all ancient civilisations ; and which now prevails, in one form or other, wherever the in- fluence of Christianity has not operated ? And when w^e turn to the Christian Church, we find The Democracy and Religion. 371 that this it was which, at the break-up of the Eoman Empire, rescued Humanity from slipping back into barbarism ; and which not only mitigated the harshness of the feudal system, but also developed from it our present political arrangements. Wherever it has had the opportunity, this Church has everywhere stood as a mediator between the rulers and their peoples ; inspiring the rulers with a new sense of responsibility, and educating the peoples with a new fitness for power. The first name on the roll of Magna Charta is to us in England a sign of what we politically owe to the Church. Oui- special sense of indebtedness is increased when we reflect how closely, with us, political proga-ess has been identified with commercial development; and how greatly our commercial development has been influenced by the action of the Church. The classes which are so powerful now, had neither political nor social position in any ancient republic. Trade was universally tabooed : whilst slavery, which dragged down all labour into degradation, was fatal to the rise of any middle-class ; so that even enlightened Augustus sentenced a senator to death because he was connected with a manufac- ture. Our large towns, which have been the nurseries of political freedom, took their origin from the monas- teries ; and our industrial occupations not only began in the teachings, but also gained their position from the example, of the monks, who, like the Founder of Christianity, ennobled labour by sanctifying it. Much also was due to the Crusades, which, by mixing so many different nations, created new wants, diminished old bigotries, and roused a feeling of human brotherhood. Erom trade, thus encouraged, sprang our diplomatic 2 B 2 3/2 The Coming Democracy. system ; for consuls, who were first started by the Italian Eepublics, were in the beginning only the protectors of the interests of merchants. But even if we confine ourselves to our own country, we find that the dominant influence of the Church has been steadily favourable to political freedom; so that the mistakes of some of its supporters should not weigh for more than the dust in the balance. And the Church was, for many centuries, not merely the only protection of the weak, but also the only refuge of the distressed. The poor we have always with us ; and by a strange contradiction of reasonableness, their proportionate numbers seem to increase with the increasing wealth, for man can produce better than he can distribute. Our Poor-Law has handed over the care of the poor to other hands ; and certainly these do not succeed so well that we can decently forget those A\ho did the work before. The monks who dwell on the summit of that Alpine pass, and who devote them- selves to sheltering travellers, and rescuing those lost in the snow, are a fair type of what, during long ages, the Church did for the poor. We complain of the increasing indifference of the masses ; and one reason may be that Eeligion now is concerned more about doctrines and ceremonies, than about works of self- sacrifice and acts of love. The man who had fallen amongst thieves, might perhaps have had less cause for gratitude, if he had been carried to a service instead of to an inn. For generation after generation, the Churches were not merely temples of worship, but also houses of refuge, whose doors would always open to the knock of the poor or the distressed. The Democracy and Religion. 373 Even now, the strain on the Poor-Law would be much more trying, and the sufferings of the poor much more acute, were it not that the parochial system of the Church of England gives comfort and help to many of the de- serving. In considering what the Church has done in the past, we cannot forget that, when it took sole charge of the poor, it avoided some of those evils by which our present system seems to be undermining self-respect, and making poverty an hereditary profession. So, as a conclusion of the whole matter, we may expect the Coming Democracy to perceive, that whilst Science shows Eeligion to be necessary, and Philosophy shows it to be reasonable. Politics requires it as the basis of progress, and freedom, and protection. But the Democracy might perceive all this, and yet remain far enough away from Eeligion; for Eeligion is much more a matter of the heart than of the head. Out of the heart proceed those evil thoughts which are con- demned by Eeligion ; and out of the heart must proceed those good thoughts which are necessary to Eeligion. Churches are always trying to make opinions of the first importance, because it is so much easier to think rightly than to act rightly ; but all such superstitious cannot blind us to the fact that Eeligion is primarily a matter of the heart. Before any Eeligion can be thus adopted, two conditions of the heart are necessary. One of these is, that a want of a Eeligion must be felt ; and the other is, that the Eeligion offered must be felt to meet that want. Hence in trying to foresee the probable future attitude of the Coming Democracy towards Eeligion, we have not only to consider whether Eeligion is intrinsically unreasonable, but also whether 374 The Coming Democracy. the masses are likely to feel a need for any Eeligion. After that comes the question — What Eeligion will meet that need ? The two chief causes which lead men, of all sorts, to Eeligion, are the difficulties of this life, and the fears about the next. Perfect man in a perfect world would have no need of that which we mean by Eeligion ; he would stand in a fuller and more joyous relationship to the Infinite, but he could have no sense of that divine uncontent which is, with us, the beginning of all Eeligion. Strange to say, we are led to seek for the Perfect Almighty just because this world, in which He has placed us, turns out so very imperfect ; because this life, which He has laid out for us, falls so far short of our ideals. If the ideal and the actual could meet, by the one being lower or the other higher, there would be no room for Eeligion, which comes to fill up the gap we all actually find. As material food does not nourish properly unless it is desired, so there can be no real Eeligion unless there is first a hunger for it. Are the masses less likely to feel this hunger than the classes which, it is acknowledged, are, on the whole, given to Eeligion ? Surely, they are more likely ; for if the chief cause is the discrepancy between the actual and the ideal, those should feel this hunger the most, to whom this discrepancy is the greatest. It may be contended, however, that though the masses realise least, they also hope proportionately little. But the aspira- tions which distinguish human nature and give birtli to its ideals, are not thus controlled by class influences. As Shylock said that the Jews, " are subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and The Democracy and Religion. 375 cooled by the same winter and summer," so all men have pretty much the same wants and cares, the same sorrows and longings, the same disappointments and trials. All men, whether princes or peasants, find them- selves through life — " Impelled with steps unceasing to pursue Some fleeting good which mocks them with the view." Hence all men more or less feel a longing which no experience can satisfy, and no reasoning explain away, for — " Dim as the borrowed beams of moon or stars, To lonely, weary, wandering travellers. Is reason to the soul." Not that Eeligion contradicts reason, but only transcends it; as music obeys the laws of mathema- tics, whilst it utters that of which they have no knowledge. The masses have naturally the same feel- ings as others, and their experience is likely to make these more intense. The history of Eeligion confirms the expectations of PMlosophy, for it was "the common people" who heard Christ gladly, and not the respectable or the learned, the comfortable or " the safe." It is not so much in their feelings that the masses differ from the other classes, as in their modes of expression. It is more likely that the masses are out of sympathy with the religious forms and expressions now prevailing, than that they have lost attachment to Eeligion in general, or to the Christian Eeligion in particular. We should bear this in mind when we are estimating the value of statistics about attendances at places of worship, or of other customary tests of religious condition. When Eeligion does not 376 The Coming Democracy. receive the attention we expect, the cause must not always be sought in those who will not listen, but is often to be found in those who will speak. The exposi- tions of Christianity, each of which is put forward as the only genuine and complete one, are many of them so distorted, and fragmentary, and unreal — some ending in mere emotional gushing, and others in mere intel- lectual hair-splitting — that we need not be surprised if some men prefer solitude and the New Testament, nor shall we be justified in branding such as irreligious. . Perhaps it may be thought that this is not the sort of atti- tude likely to be taken up by many of the masses ; but those who have much experience, know how extensively this acts as a deterrent to religious profession. "We shall form a very erroneous notion of what is the real religious condition of the nation, unless we remember that the masses are not moved to professions of Eeligion by those motives of respectability and custom which are so powerful with the other classes ; and that English working-men are most backward in expressing any feel- ings, especially such as may seem to suggest that they are better than other people. The two things they most dread being, are milk-sops and humbugs. Undoubtedly the religious condition of our country- men is such as should make us all sad and sick at heart, but, nevertheless, we must not let ourselves judge of the future merely by the tests which are commonly applied to Eeligion. We must go deeper into the heart of the people, and there we shall strike those common feelings which cause the universal desire of Eeligion, and for which Eeligion is the only satisfaction. One of the strongest of these feelings is that awe of The Democracy and Religion. 377 death which belongs to all classes alike. Perhaps this feeling is covered over, in the upper classes, by the curiosity of speculation, and in the masses, by the bravado of carelessness. But there it lies all the same : Death is that sword of Brennus which cannot be balanced by any tribute of intelligence or indifference. Not only are princes and peasants alike in having at last to lie in the dust, but they are also alike in having beforehand to feel the dread — " Ay, but to die and go we know not where ! " Some may think that they escape tliis dread by not believing in Immortality; but this refuge, if it be one at all, is not open to the masses, for they can no more conceive an end to life than a beginning. Others may think that the refuge is the Eeligion of Humanity — merging the immortality of the individual in that of the race, — but to the masses, all the ideas of tliis life are pre-eminently personal, and so must be those of any life which has to follow. Nearly all men feel instinctively that there must be some- thing beyond the curtain of this life ; though Eternity keeps its secrets so well that never a face peeps out from the side, nor a foot is seen beneath, nor a voice is heard behind. We may scorn the Eeligion whose only motive is the fear of death, but we cannot deny the fact that this fear is one of the chief forces leading men to Eeligion. And this force operates just as strongly upon the masses as upon the rest of the nation. So because all men have pretty much the same diffi- culties in this life, and the same fears about the next, we 378 The Coming Democracy. have fair reason to expect that the Coming Democracy will not be comparatively deficient in attachment to religious faith, and subjection to religious influence. Perhaps notice should here be taken of an objection to religious belief — or rather, justification for the want of it — which is constantly put forward, both in print and in conversation. It is said that we cannot believe in a government by God of which we see no signs in the ordinary course of the world. Sorrow and destruction fall alike on the good and on the evil : both sufi'er together if there is any local accident or general disaster ; if a mine blows up, or a steamer goes down ; if the land is burnt by an eruption, or rent by an earthquake. But we may expect improved education to make it generally understood that this supremacy of natural laws is one of the strongest proofs of benevolent government; for if these laws were liable to constant interference, infinitely more suffering would befall all the good than can possibly happen to a few by occasional catastrophes. Besides, if the good were to be shielded from the effects of these laws, goodness would have a new motive ; and one which is opposed to the whole theory of Eeligion, and which would make goodness itself worthless. Also, that which alone makes life worth living would be lost ; for it is not in escaping " the changes and chances of this mortal life," but in profiting by their discipline, that we must gain that training which is the chief object of our existence. God is to be found, not in the extraor- dinary, but in the ordinary ; if, indeed, there can be anything which is not ordinary. Not only the rain, and other good things, but also the things which we call evil, must continue to fall "on the just and on the The Democracy and Religion. 379 unjust " ; the difference being, that to the just nothing can be really evil except that which comes from within themselves. The instinct and experience of Humanity both answer for the divine government ; and the masses are just as likely to feel this as the rest of the people. So a Eeligion of some sort they will have. What Religion will this be ? Admitting the fact that Christianity has possession of the ground, and that democracies are most apt to follow a lead, we have to consider that the two chief requisites of a Religion are that it should reveal God to man, and lead man to God. In both these respects it seems that Christianity need fear no rival. For no philosopher has ever reasoned out, no poet has ever imagined, any ideal of duty higher than that which follows from the character of God as set forth by Christianity. Wherever we turn, we can find no match for this ; neither in Confucianism, nor in Buddhism, nor in Brahminism, nor in Parseeism, nor in Mahommed- anism, nor yet in that Religion of Humanity which is now so much advocated. For man cannot worship himself, nor evolve from within anything better than himself; since universal experience confirms the truth that — " Unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man ! " After nearly two thousand years of development, man is still unable to improve upon " that sweet Galilean vision " to which we owe all our best religious feelings and highest religious conceptions : there is no good deed which this does not encourage, and no bad one which it does not condemn. 380 The Coming Democracy. But man needs leading to the God so revealed ; for otherwise, the more perfect the Divine revelation, the more hopeless would be the human lot. Hence a point of contact must be found, so that Humanity may receive an influence which will make it approximate to Divinity, without destroying its own characteristics. The Chris- tian Eeligion meets this need ; for it keeps man as man, wliilst it fits Mm for God. Not only does Christianity in its principles fulfil the necessary conditions of all Eeligion, but also in its circumstances it especially appeals to democratic sym- pathies ; for its First Teacher was a carpenter ; its first followers, fishermen ; and its first temples, the hill-side and the market-place. There is, therefore, good reason to expect, not only that the Coming Democracy will realise the need of a Eeligion, but also that it will accept Christianity as best meeting that need. The next question is as to the sort of organisation which will be adopted for this Eeligion ; since every Eeligion requires some organisation, as every soul requires some body before it can act upon other bodies. Organisations for Eeligion must be either divine appointments, or human arrangements. Of course if there is one divinely appointed, we need go no further; for we must owe obedience to that, just as much as to the Eeligion of which it is the organ. This is a primary axiom of Eoman Catholicism, and it is this which fundamentally distinguishes it from Protestantism. Is the Coming Democracy likely to acknowledge such The Democracy and Religion. 381 a claim ? A negative answer seems most likely, for two reasons amongst others. One of these is that this assumption is opposed to that principle of self-govern- ment which is one of the radical attributes of demo- cracies. Another reason is, that no organisation seems able to give proofs of having received such a divine commission. Of course the Eoman Catholic Church is, in our part of the world, the chief claimant ; but it will need more than the words " Tu es Petrus," and the rest, so proudly emblazoned round the base of the dome of St. Peter's, to convince the Coming Democracy. When those practical tests are applied of which the masses are so f^nd, much of the conduct of this Church does not seem to indicate such a divine guidance as might be ex- pected in an institution divinely commissioned. On the contrary, this conduct is more likely to force the people to believe, either that God is opposed to political freedom and social progress — wliich they will not believe — or that this Church is not the divine organisation for His Eeligion. Of course, every organisation must catch some of the properties of that which it embodies ; but such an influence is quite distinct from that claimed for an institution as supernaturally and exclusively com- missioned. The English nation never has believed in such a claim, and appearances strongly favour the opinion that it never will. We seem, then, to be confined to human organisations : that is to say, to organisations which have been deve- loped in a natural way, as most suitable to their Reli- gion; and which base their claims upon their fitness, and not upon any exclusive commission. These may be divided into two sorts, called the Sectarian and the 382 The Coming Democracy. National. Which of these will be chosen by the Coming Democracy ? There is a widespread feeling that Sectarian organisa- tions are most in harmony with democratic principles ; but there are many reasons suggesting a contrary con- clusion. There are two distinct questions involved in this matter : one of these is, as to the right ideal of a Church ; and the other is, as to the best method of governing that Church. The Sectarian ideal is that a Church should be a private society, comprising only believers in its faith, and ministering only to them, excepting what it chooses to do by way of missionary enterprise. The National ideal is that a Church should be, not a society, but an organisation, offering the ministrations of Eeligion freely to all, and leaving to the people the responsi- bility of rejecting or accepting. There does not seem to be much doubt as to which of these ideals best har- monises with democratic principles of freedom; nor yet as to which best obeys the spirit of that Religion whose First Teacher came to seek and to save, not the converted, but the lost; to call, not the righteous, but sinners, to repentance. Turning to the next question, it therefore follows that we are not concerned with any comparison be- tween Self-government and State-government ; for Self- government belongs to both ideals. The only difference is, that where a Church is sectarian, it is self -governed when it is governed by that sect; and where it is national, it is seK-governed when it is governed by that nation. Neither are we concerned with any comparison between government by Christ and by the State ; for The Democracy and Religion. 383 the choice is not between Christ and the State, but between human rulers chosen in one way, and human rulers chosen in another. We are assuming that there is no divine organisation : and even if tliis assumption is a mistake, there could only be one such organisation ; therefore all the sects, but one, would in this respect be in the wrong. The principle of Eeligious Equality, of wliich we hear so much, has also notliing to do with the matter ; for the question is not whether the State shall favour a certain sect, but whether it shall undertake a certain office. A National Church is not a sect, nor a body, nor anything of the sort ; but it is a means for performing a certain function : and we have only to ask ourselves whether this function should be performed by the State, or should be left to what we call private enterprise. If the principle of equality is concerned at all, it would certainly seem to be on the side of the national system : for that alone can give the only re- ligious equality which has any meaning; namely, equa- Kty in the right and power to use, or refuse, Eeligion. Equality cannot surely mean that because some will not accept what is freely offered to all, therefore all should be deprived of the opportunity. In considering the probable attitude of the Coming De- mocracy towards tliis question, we have to remember tliat the natural tendency of democracies, is to increase the functions of the State, by using the national organisa- tion for every purpose believed to be nationally impor- tant. This tendency has latterly shown itself strongly in regard to education. Those who now most strongly assert that the State ought to have nothing to do with Eeligion, not long ago asserted with equal vehemence 384 The Coming Democracy. that it ought to have nothing to do with education ; and they may find themselves as much mistaken in the one matter, as they have already found themselves in the other. No reason can be given why the State should undertake education, which will not hold equally good for Eeligion ; unless it be that education is nationally important, and that Eeligion is not. In regard to this, the Coming Democracy is likely to believe that Eeligion must be important either to none or to all : and if to all, that it should be brought within the compass of all ; which can only be done by an organisation embracing all ; that is, by one which is national. The Democracy is also likely to perceive many reasons why such an organisation is likely to be best both for Eeligion and for the State. Amongst these reasons, the following may be named. The chief democratic requirements of a Eeligion are that it shall be practical and liberal. Now sectarian organisations involve some test of membership, and such a test must be either moral or theological. But because moral tests are more difficult to agree upon, and very much more difficult still to conform to, sects almost in- variably settle upon theological tests. A number of people who could not easily deceive themselves that they were all living up to a certain high moral standard, can very easily persuade themselves that they all agree in a certain set of opinions ; and also that these opinions are a proof of superiority and orthodoxy. Hence secta- rianism adopts, and exalts, principles of classification which are no part of practical Eeligion ; and which certainly do not resemble the tests by which Christianity The Democracy and Religion. 385 professes to separate the good from the bad. Now a National Church, which has to express the miiid of a whole nation, cannot be absorbed in those intellectual subtleties which are the delight of sectarian organisations ; and so must retain more of those moral tests which are enunciated by Christianity. We see this in our own country, where the National Church is the only re- ligious organisation which welcomes to its highest privileges all those who can honestly accept the simple invitatioli — " Ye that do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in His holy ways ; draw near." Sectarianism tends to make Eeligion, not only less practical, but also less liberal ; for in addition to setting up extra intellectual tests, it insists upon these with extra keenness. Every organisa- tion must have some form of government ; and experi- ence shows that when this is not national, it inevitably becomes clerical. No scheme, however promising, can ever secure real lay representation : for the lay mind cannot concentrate itself properly upon any organisa- tion less than that of the State; whereas the clergy are supremely interested in their own Church, and have great advantages in education and speech. Now the clerical mind has, in this association, an almost invariable tendency to dislocate religious perspective, by bringing secondary matters of opinion or practice into the prominence of first principles. So " the glorious liberty of the children of God," which should be " broad as the charity of the Almighty Father, and narrow as His righteousness," is taken away ; and we are offered, 2 c 386 The Coming Democracy. in its place, mere creeds and ceremonies. The Christian Eeligion began with the laity ; whilst it was '-' the Sons of Aaron," upon whom the condemnation was pro- nounced — "They have seen and hated both Me and ]\Iy Father." The first Cluistian Churches were founded upon the model of the Synagogues, wliich had no warrant according to the Mosaic Law. These Churches, too were originally democratic in government : for at first the ruling power belonged to the whole community ; then it passed to the presbyters ; and from them to the Inshops, who handed it over to the popes. So the boastful motto " Semper Eadem " is not justified by History ; and will be best exemplified by a return to that principle of general combination wliich, in these days, can find its best expression in a national organisation. But the Coming Democracy will chiefly he guided by what it can see : and therefore must l^e influenced by the facts, that — of all the religious organisations in the land — whilst the Eeligion of the Church of England is the most practical and liberal, yet the most public and definite, the system of the Church of England is so free that there is no man, however poor or distant; who cannot claim by right to join in its services and to receive its ministrations. And to these facts must be added another, namely, that whilst sectarian organisations necessarily give more influence to the rich than to the poor, the system of the Church of England confers equal power upon all, yet costs no man a penny against liis will. Turning next to the State, we find that the chief democratic requirements are, that it shall be supreme and liiffh-toned. But if a State is not connected with The Democracy and Religion. 387 Religion, its supremacy can never be safe ; for as " where the treasure is, there will the heart be also," so where the strongest motive is, there will be the seat of power. Religion is tliis strongest motive generally ; and at least is always liable to become so. History has not been made by political theories, but by religious faiths ; and at the present time, these faiths are the most powerful of all the influences which control political events. Political arrangements are like the pence which will take care of themselves, if only the pounds of religious feeling are attended to. The saying of Tyrtaius, that any one might make the laws of a people if he might make their songs, now holds true of Religion ; for the supreme motive which, with tlie Greeks, found expression in Music, with us finds it in Religion. As there can be no permanent separation between the two elementary forces of society, which are reverence and fear, so that there can be none between their organisations, which are the Church and the State. The only justification for all political organisations, is the welfare of the people; and this welfare requires, not only the State's method of punish- ment, but also the Church's method of prevention. We find that we can make little head- way against the evils — such as crime and intemperance — which so grievously oppress us, unless to the command of the State — " Thou shaft not " — is added the declaration of the Church—" We will not." So the State, apart from Religion, becomes not only impotent, but also secondary : for the supreme motive is certain to find some organisation for itself; and this organisation is certain, sooner or later, to exercise 388 The Coming Democracy. supreme power. In all countries where the Church has been separated from the State, these two have eventually come into conflict with each other ; and the ultimate victor has not been the State. This battle is waging now in Italy, in Germany, and in France, determining party divisions and political decrees ; and it would soon be waged here, if we attempted the same separation. Complaints are sometimes made that the Church of England now exercises too much political influence ; and the Coming Democracy will not fail to perceive how much the evil would be increased if this Church, with its unrivalled material and moral and historical resources, was handed over to the irrespon- sible government of a self-chosen authority. With all forms of government, the separation of Eeligion from Politics means the creation of an impermm in imperio, wliich ultimately becomes supreme ; and this result is most certain to follow in democracies, being helped by their want of cohesion and excess of impulsiveness. So the Coming Democracy will have either to lose its supremacy, or to associate itself with those religious feelings which exercise the most powerful influence over mankind. But this question involves not only the avoiding of a loss, but also the securing of a gain ; this gain being the retention of that influence which can alone make governments noble and durable. Life cannot be divided into secular and religious ; for Eeligion does not mean the performance of certain special duties, but it is the spirit which should animate all duty. And this spirit is needed most of all in the realm of Politics ; for here the baser passions, of which Pieligion is the only The Democracy and Religion. 389 efiective check, are apt to have the freest and most destructive play. Democracies are, of all forms of government, the most in danger of falling victims to the decay of degradation ; because they offer the most opportunities for selfish and unscrupulous men to aggrandise power to themselves, by working upon the weaknesses of the masses. All forms of government depend more, for their quality and stability, upon the character of those who administer them than upon their constitutional arrangements. And when Eeligion is separated from Politics, men of the right character cannot be got, or cannot be supreme, because the highest motives and sanctions are absent ; so that power falls into the hands of those to whom the words of Sophocles apply — " Whoe'er is called to guide a State, And does not catch at counsels wise and good. But holds his peace through any fear of men ; I deem him basest of all men that are. " These " basest " are the constantly besetting danger of democracies : they may come to the top when least expected, as Cleon succeeded Pericles ; and they are certain before long to work destruction, unless the State is preserved by an influence such as can only be found in Eeligion. Nineveh and Memphis are now only ruins ; Babylon and Macedonia only names ; Troy and Carthage only sites ; Constantinople and Athens only gatherings of poor dwellings ; and Jerusalem and Eome only collections of curiosities. The Englishman, obser- ving how the wave of Empire has steadily flowed west- ward, raising nation after nation on its crest and then leaving them dry on the sand, must often wonder 390 The Coming Democracy. whether his fatal hour will not soon be here. He must learn, too, that there is but one thing which can hold it back ; but one thing wMch, if it cannot make nations powerful, can alone keep them so. This one thing needful is the Spirit of Eeligion : that Spirit without which there can be no high and sustained patriotism ; no true and abiding greatness. THE END. LONDON: WM. CLOWES AND SONS, LI3IITED, STAMPOUD STREET AND CHAKING CROSS. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. DISESTABLISHMENT; OR, A DEFENCE OF THE PRINCIPLE OF A NATIONAL CHUECH. 8vo., 12s. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. •' We have endeavoured rather to give a fair taste of the quality of Mr. Harwood's work than to criticise it, our object being to get readers to go to the book itself. For, having regard to the antecedenis and sur- roundings of the author, we know of no recent work as Ukely to provoke both Churchmen and Di-senters to reconsider the ordinary ready-made opinions which pass muster on both sitles of this great controversy." — Tice Spectator. " His treatment of the subject from a practical point of view is very good iudeeJ, and his answers to objectors display for the most part con- siderable power of reasouiijg united with much common sense . . the book is decidedly able, and a valuable addition to the defensive literature of Es'.ablishmeut.'' — Pall Mall Gazette. " This essay, or rather treatise, for it is of a very thorough and exhaus- tive character, is distinguished by the moderate and tolerant spirit iu which it is written, and the clear, sensible, and cogent way in which the argument is conducted." — Saturday Review. "A very valuable and tim^iy production.'' — Jolm Bull. MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON, W.C. MESSRS. MACMILLAN & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. Now puhlisMng, in crown Qvo., price 3s. 6d. each. A SERIES OF SHORT BOOKS ON HIS RIGHTS AND RESPONSIBILITIES. The foUoicing are the 1. Central Government. H. U. Tkaill, I). (J. L., late ^Vllow of St. John's College, Oxford. [Keady. 2. The Electorate and the Lf'.'i^lalure. 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