The Mother of Parliaments Part 4

With the gradual growth of parliamentary power the importance of electing members to the House of Commons began to be recognized, and, during the Wars of the Roses, fewer and fewer applications were made by boroughs and cities anxious to be relieved of this duty.

Until Henry VI.'s time, when the modern system of Bills and Statutes began to come into being, legislation was by Pet.i.tion. The control of Parliament was still very largely in the hands of the Crown, and successive sovereigns took care that their influence over the Commons should be maintained. With this object in view Edward VI. enfranchised some two-and-twenty rotten boroughs, Mary added fourteen more, and in Elizabeth's time sixty-two further members, all under the royal control, were sent to leaven the Commons.

The attendance in the Lower House was still poor, not more than two hundred members ever taking part in the largest divisions, and it was only at the culmination of the conflicts between Parliament and the Stuart Kings that the Commons began to display a real desire for independent power.

If the Revolution of 1688 firmly and finally established the supremacy of Parliament, it was only a supremacy over the Crown. The democratic element to which we are accustomed in a modern House of Commons was still conspicuously lacking. Both Houses remained purely aristocratic in character until long after this. Whigs and Tories might wrangle over political differences; they were at one in their determination to uphold the interests of a single privileged cla.s.s. "This House is not the representative of the people of Great Britain," said Pitt in the Commons in 1783; "it is the representative of nominal boroughs, of ruined and exterminated towns, of n.o.ble families, of wealthy individuals, of foreign potentates." Eight members of Parliament were then nominated by the Nabob of Arcot, and in 1793 the Duke of Norfolk's nominees in the House numbered eleven. The Crown, the Church, and the aristocracy governed the country. The Commons were an insignificant body, open to bribery, dependent upon rich patrons or upon electors whose corruption was notorious. Prior to 1832, only 170 out of some 658 members of Parliament were independent; the remainder were nominated by wealthy individuals. The Reform Bill of 1832, however, brought about a mighty change for the better. The electorate of the country was raised from 300,000 to 1,370,000. Fifty-six corrupt boroughs were disfranchised, thirty-one were deprived of one member each, and two others were reduced; and the hitherto inadequate representation of other towns and boroughs was rectified.

The Reformed Parliament that met in the following year differed in many respects from its predecessors. Sir Robert Peel was much struck by the alteration in tone, character, and appearance of the new House of Commons. "There was an asperity, a rudeness, a vulgar a.s.sumption of independence, combined with a fawning reference to the people out of doors, expressed by many of the new members, which" (as he told his friend Raikes) "was highly disgusting."[58] The Duke of Wellington, who had gone to the Peers' Gallery of the House of Commons to inspect the new Parliament, expressed his opinion more tersely. "I never saw so many shocking bad hats in my life!" he said. The spirit of democracy had crept in, but it was still an unwelcome visitor. For many years the aristocracy maintained a great preponderance in the House of Commons--in 1868 that a.s.sembly comprised 45 heirs of peerages, 65 younger sons of peers, and 57 baronets[59]--but its power decreased year by year, though even now it cannot be said to be wholly extinct.

[58] Raikes's "Journal," vol. i. p. 157.

[59] "Pall Mall Gazette," December 28, 1860.

By the Reform Acts of 1867 and 1884 the franchise qualifications were once more extended, and three and a half million names added to the register. With the election, in 1874, of the first Labour candidates--of whom one, at least, was a genuine working-man--the Commons gradually began to a.s.sume that representative appearance which it now presents.

During the last three centuries the Lower House has increased very considerably in size as well as in importance. It numbered 300 in the reign of Henry VI., and 506 at the time of the Long Parliament. In 1832, by which time the Acts of Union had added 45 Scottish and 100 Irish members,[60] the numbers had risen to 658, and to-day some 670 members sit in Parliament.

[60] The Irish members were increased to 105 in 1832, but subsequently reduced to 103, fifty years later.

The House of Commons has long ago shaken off the shackles of the Crown, and will perhaps some day be almost as wholly emanc.i.p.ated from the influence of the aristocracy. Its power is increasing yearly, owing mainly to the fact that it has gained the confidence of the country, and it is now generally felt that when any great question arises, the House will solve it, as Disraeli said some fifty years ago, "not merely by the present thought and intelligence of its members, but by the acc.u.mulated wisdom of the eminent men who have preceded them."[61]

[61] Hansard, "Debates," 18 April, 1864.

To appreciate the exact nature of those inducements which tempt a man to enter Parliament must often prove perplexing to the lay mind. To Charles James Fox the pleasures of patronage seemed the circ.u.mstances which chiefly rendered desirable the possession of political power.

But the patronage in the hands of a private member to-day is of too insignificant a nature to prove an irresistible temptation, and political power of an appreciable kind is reserved for the very few.

The life of the modern legislator is a strenuous and an expensive one; it cannot be successfully undertaken by a poor or an idle man. Before a candidate may stand for Parliament at all he must deposit a substantial sum with the Returning Officer, and the mere expenses of election vary from 350 to 900 in boroughs, and from 650 to as much as 1800 in counties.[62] Add to this the annual sum--variously computed at from 200 to 500--which a member spends in subscriptions within his const.i.tuency, and it can readily be imagined that the parliamentary life is not open to all. There would, indeed, seem to be some justification for the criticism of that cynical member who said that he had often heard the House of Commons called "the best club in London," and supposed that it was so termed because it demanded the largest entrance fee.[63] A few fortunate candidates have their election expenses paid by a party or by Trades Unions, but these are in the minority, and the comparatively large cost of entering Parliament is the chief reason why, in spite of the democratic tendency of modern political thought, the House of Commons still remains in large measure a delegation of the richest if not perhaps of the most aristocratic cla.s.s in England. This state of things is likely to continue unless some system is adopted of remunerating the services of legislators in the fashion which long prevailed in England and is still in vogue upon the Continent. But it is certainly open to argument whether its adoption would improve the quality of the House or the respect entertained for it in the country.

[62] The General Election of 1880 cost 1,700,000. This expenditure was reduced to about a million pounds after the pa.s.sing of the Corrupt and Illegal Practices Prevention Act and the Redistribution Bill of 1883 and 1885. By the former the expenses in boroughs are limited to 350, if the number of electors does not exceed 2000; and to 380 if it does exceed 2000, with an extra 30 for every further 1000 electors. In counties, where the electors do not exceed 2000, the expenses are limited to 650, and to 710 if they exceed 2000, with an extra 60 for every further 1000 electors. These sums do not include personal expenses up to 100 and the charges of the returning officer.

[63] Hansard, "Debates," vol. 288, p. 1563. (5 June, 1884.) (The phrase was first used in a novel ent.i.tled, "Friends of Bohemia, or Phases of London Life," published in 1857, by a Parliamentary writer named E. M. Whitty.)

In the Parliaments of Edward III. members received regular payment, the wages varying from year to year. At the beginning of the fourteenth century, for example, the knights of Dorsetshire were paid 5_s._ a day; later on this was reduced to 1_s._ 6_d._ In 1314 the daily wage of county members was 4_s._, and they were also allowed a small sum to cover travelling expenses. In Henry VIII.'s reign boroughs were expected to pay their own members' expenses. Frugal const.i.tuencies occasionally bargained with their would-be representatives, and candidates, stimulated to generous impulses by the idea of imminent election, would agree to defray their own expenses or even to go without wages altogether. Sometimes, too, members appear to have been willing to pay for the privilege of election. In 1571 a certain Thomas Long was returned for the Wiltshire borough of Westbury by the simple process of paying the mayor a sum of 4. Long's unfitness for a seat in Parliament--he was a simple yeoman--became apparent as soon as he entered the House. On being questioned, he admitted having bribed the const.i.tuency to elect him, and was at once informed that the House had no further need of his services. The inhabitants of Westbury were fined 20, and the Mayor was compelled to refund his money.[64]

[64] "Parliamentary History," vol. i. p. 766.

The practice of paying members long continued. In the year 1586 we find the member for Grantham suing the borough for his salary. The House of Commons does not, however, appear to have been anxious to uphold this claim, and requested that it should be withdrawn. By this time, indeed, it had become usual for members to forego the financial advantages of election--though there still remained some notable exceptions who were not satisfied with the honorary rewards attaching to the possession of a seat in Parliament--and in 1677 the Commons repealed the Statute by which wages were paid to members.[65]

[65] Andrew Marvell continued to receive a salary from Hull until his death in 1678 (see his "Works," vol. ii., x.x.xv.), and the member for Harwich obtained a writ against that borough for his salary in 1681.

Samuel Pepys deplored the gradual neglect of the old practice requiring const.i.tuencies to allow wages to their representatives, whereby, he said, "they chose men that understood their business and would attend it, and they could expect an account from, which now they cannot."[66] But this view was not the popular one, and electors gladly availed themselves of the change in public opinion to discontinue the earlier system. Motions have been brought forward on more than one occasion, "to restore the ancient const.i.tutional custom of payment of members,"--notably in 1870 and 1888--but have always been rejected by a large majority.[67] Nowadays, however, there seems some inclination to revert to the old-fashioned and more expensive method, and within recent years a Liberal Prime Minister has promised to provide payment for members whenever funds for the purpose are available. In other respects the desire of the member of Parliament today would appear to be rather in the direction of relinquishing than of adding to his personal privileges. In the eighteenth century, for example, he would never have dreamt of paying postal fees. Members transmitted their correspondence without charge by the simple process of inscribing their names in one corner of the envelope. The privilege of "franking," as this was called, was afterwards limited by its being required that the date and place of posting should be added in the member's handwriting, and the daily number of free letters was restricted to ten sent and fifteen received. In those free and easy days kind-hearted members would provide their friends with large bundles of franked half-sheets of paper, and the number of persons who paid any postage on their correspondence two hundred years ago must have been very small indeed. In a letter written by Mrs. Delany to a friend in 1749 we find the subject mentioned in a way that shows how universally available had become such opportunities for defrauding the revenue. "I have been so silly as to forget franks," she writes. "I must beg the favour of you to get _a dozen or two_ for me from Sir Charles Mordaunt.... I don't know," she adds, "but you will find a few of the Duke of Portland's in the drawer with the paper."[68]

[66] "Diary," 30 March, 1668.

[67] Irving's "Annals of Our Time," p. 912. (The majority in 1870 was 187.)

[68] "Autobiography of Mrs. Delany," vol. ii. p. 511.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HOUSE OF OF COMMONS IN 1742

FROM AN ENGRAVING BY JOHN PINE]

By the end of the eighteenth century the improper franking of letters threatened to become a public scandal. Covers were transmitted by the hundred, packed in boxes, the only limit to their distribution being the good nature of members. A London banker once received thirty-three covers containing garden seeds from a Scottish member, and it became apparent to the postal authorities that some effort must be made to put a stop to the practice.[69] This was eventually done in 1840, not without a struggle, and the modern member of Parliament who writes letters to his friends must do so at his own expense. He is still, however, allowed to send a certain number of printed copies of bills to his const.i.tuents, free of charge, by writing his name in a corner of the packet.

[69] Wraxall's "Posthumous Memoirs."

To-day the privileges of membership are certainly not of a material kind. A few men enter the House of Commons for social purposes, and must be sadly disappointed in the result. The simple letters, "M.P."

on a card are indeed no longer, as the author of that entertaining work, "Men and Manners in Parliament," declared them to be thirty years ago, "the surest pa.s.sport to distinction for mediocrity travelling on the continent."[70] Bitter experience has shattered the simple faith in human nature which was once the chief charm of the Swiss innkeeper. The sight of a British member of Parliament signing a cheque no longer inspires him with confidence. He is only too well aware that among those--

"Types of the elements whose glorious strife Form'd this free England, and still guard her life,"

there exist a few who are not above leaving their hotel bills permanently unpaid; and this knowledge has endowed him with a caution which is both galling to the sensitive soul of the average M.P. and extremely inconvenient to the tourist who has momentarily mislaid his letter of credit.

[70] p. 270.

If the member cannot now enjoy the unmixed respect of the foreigner, it is equally certain that at home he is no longer looked upon with the veneration with which his predecessors were commonly regarded. His const.i.tuents treat him as their servant no less than as their representative. And though he may find some comfort in that definition of a member's duties for which Edmund Burke is responsible--which perhaps cost that statesman his seat at the General Election of 1780--this will prove but a slight consolation when he is suddenly called upon by his local committee to explain some change of views or to account for constant neglect of his parliamentary duties.

Parliament is not, indeed, as Burke told the electors of Bristol, a congress of amba.s.sadors from different and hostile interests, which interests each must maintain, as an agent and advocate, against other agents and advocates. It is a deliberate a.s.sembly of one nation, with one interest, that of the whole; where not local purposes, not local prejudices, ought to guide, but the general good, resulting from the general reason of the whole. "You choose a member indeed," he said; "but when you have chosen him, he is not a member of Bristol, but he is a member of _Parliament_."[71] At the same time a member cannot afford to forget that he owes much to his const.i.tuents; his existence in Parliament depends very greatly upon their good pleasure. He must be to a certain extent at their beck and call, willing to subscribe to their local charities, to open their bazaars, visit their hospitals, kick off at their football matches, take the chair at their farmers'

dinners or smoking-concerts. He must have a welcome hand ever extended in the direction of the squire, a smile for the licensed victualler, a kindly nod of the head for the meanest elector, and (at election times) a kiss for the humblest voter's stickiest child. When const.i.tuents call upon him at the House he must greet them with a display of effusiveness which gives no hint of his annoyance at being interrupted in the middle of important business. They may want to be shown round the House, and such a natural desire on their part must be acquiesced in, though it is not every one who has the courage to escort a band of six hundred const.i.tuents round the Chamber, as did a member in 1883. Every morning the postman will bring him--besides that voluminous bundle of parliamentary papers and bluebooks, with the contents of which he is mythically supposed to make himself acquainted--a score of applications of various kinds from his const.i.tuents, all of which must be attended to. The day is long past when he can emulate the cavalier methods of Fox who, as Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, affixed a notice to the door of his office: "No letters received here on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays or Sat.u.r.days! and none answered on any day!"[72]

[71] Speech at Bristol in 1774. ("Works and Correspondence of E.

Burke," vol. iii. p. 236). Algernon Sidney antic.i.p.ated this remark.

"It is not therefore for Kent or Suss.e.x, Lewes or Maidstone, but for the whole nation, that the members chosen in those places are sent to serve in Parliament."--"Discourse Concerning Government," vol. ii. p.

370.

[72] Bell's "Biographical Sketches," p. 82.

The modern member's duties are by no means confined to the House of Commons, nor are they limited to the duration of the session. Formerly it would never have occurred to a member to make a speech in his const.i.tuency, once he was elected; though as a candidate he would of course address the voters, and might even be compelled to attend a banquet or a provincial dance.[73] The idea of paying a visit to the electors of any const.i.tuency other than his own would, a century ago, have been considered in the worst possible taste. Nowadays, however, the point of view is changed. No sooner has he completed his share in the arduous work of the session--the long tedious hours of debate, the wearisome attendance on committees, the continual tramping through the division lobbies--and shaken the dust of Westminster from his feet, than he must hasten to the country to give some account of his stewardship, to dazzle his const.i.tuents with the oratorical plat.i.tudes which have failed to move the more fastidious audience of the House of Commons. He must even be ready to rush off to the a.s.sistance of a fellow-member in some distant shire, and purge his bosom of the same perilous stuff upon various platforms all over the country.

[73] Croker, in 1820, complains of having to attend a three o'clock dinner and dance at Bodmin, when he stood as candidate; the whole affair being, he says, "at once tiresome and foolish." "Croker Papers," vol. i. p. 166.

Sir Edward c.o.ke declared three hundred years ago that every member of Parliament should in three respects at least resemble the elephant; "first, that he hath no gall; secondly, that he is inflexible, and cannot bow; thirdly, that he is of a most ripe and perfect memory."[74] He might well have added some of the other qualities of that admirable beast--patience, docility, the capacity for hard work, and, above all, a thick skin. Though outwardly inflexible, a modern member must be prepared to bow to the wishes of his party; and in his ripe and perfect memory there should be room for the names and faces of his const.i.tuents and their wives. He must be patient when he has failed for the hundredth time to "catch the Speaker's eye"; he must be docile when the Whip urges him to vote in favour of a motion with which he disagrees fundamentally; and if he be of a thin-skinned disposition or of a delicate const.i.tution, the labours of the House of Commons may soon prove too much for him. If he is unambitious and anxious to lead a peaceful life, he will do well to remember the advice given by Ferguson of Pitfour, who summed up his parliamentary experiences, in 1826, as follows: "I was never present at any debate I could avoid, or absent from any division I could get at. I have heard many arguments which convinced my judgment, but never one that influenced my vote. I never voted but once according to my own opinion, and that was the worst vote I ever gave. I found that the only way to be quiet in Parliament was always to vote with the Ministry, and never to take a place."[75]

[74] "Inst.i.tute of the Laws of England," 4th part, p. 3.

[75] Sir H. C. Robinson's "Diary and Reminiscences," vol. ii. pp.

315-6.

No doubt the member of Parliament enjoys many privileges which are denied to the mere layman. He is stimulated by the excitement of partic.i.p.ating in a perpetual political conflict; he delights in the intellectual pleasure of hearing the most interesting questions of the day debated by the shrewdest men of the age; he is conscious of being in a sense a public benefactor, with a direct (if somewhat slight) influence upon the policy of his country. He is given a front seat in what Mr. Biggar once called the "best theatre in London," and there is always the chance that some day he may himself be cast for a leading part in that great political drama which is performed night after night on the boards of the Theatre Royal, Westminster. Politics--"l'art de mentir a propos," as Voltaire defined them--may have their origin in the perversity rather than in the grandeur of the human soul, but the attraction they exercise over the average Englishman is very great.[76] But for the privileges of a parliamentary career--one of the worthiest to which a patriot can devote himself, in Mr. Balfour's opinion--a heavy price has to be paid, and to the toll of toil and treasure levied by Parliament must be added the sacrifice of independence as well as of time.

[76] Moore wrote to Lady Donegal in 1807: "I begin at last to find out that _politics_ is the only thing minded in this country, and that it is better even to _rebel_ against government than have nothing to do with it." "Memoirs," vol. i. p. 225.

In this twentieth century the initiative of the private member has almost disappeared. The Government is alone responsible for legislation; all the most important measures brought in are Government measures. The time of the House is placed, very early in each session, at the disposal of the Government, its business is arranged to suit their convenience, and the private member must be content to make the most of such fragmentary opportunities as are flung to him. He is controlled by his party and by his Whip; he may not leave the House without permission; he must vote at the word of command. At one moment he may be called upon to speak at length upon a subject of which he is sublimely ignorant, in order to allow his party a chance of gathering their forces to meet an unexpected division; at another he is compelled to refrain from good words, though it may be pain and grief to him, in order to save the precious time of the Government. And perhaps he will occasionally be inclined to agree once more with Burke that the same qualifications, nowadays, make a good member of Parliament that formerly made a good monk: "Bene loqui de superiore, legere breviarum taliter qualiter, et sinere res vadere ut vadunt"--to speak well of the minister, read the lesson he sets you, and let the State take care of itself![77]

[77] Prior's "Life of Burke," vol. ii. p. 454.

Even so, the advantages of membership are not to be despised; and once a man has tasted the sweets of political life, all other professions fade into insignificance. He may have been moved to enter Parliament by some ambitious yearning after fame; he may have been prompted by patriotic motives, or merely the desire to prove himself a useful member of society, his serious opinion being (like that of Buxton, the great opponent of Slavery) that "good woodc.o.c.k-shooting is a preferable thing to glory."[78] His contributions to debate may be of poor quality, but they will not be altogether valueless, and, after an arduous day in the House, he will listen with a glow of conscious rect.i.tude to the ancient and welcome cry of "Who goes Home?" which rings through the lobbies and announces the close of the sitting.[79]

Though he may never, perhaps, wake to find himself famous, he will often sink comfortably to sleep on his return home from the House in the early hours of the morning, soothed by the consciousness of duty done. That in itself is a thing not to be despised, and there may possibly be other benefits in store for him. If he is sufficiently painstaking and intelligent he may perchance have greatness thrust upon him in the form of an under-secretaryship, and, when he has scaled the outer breastworks of that Cabinet zareba to which access is so difficult, the suspicion that he has long cherished of being a heaven-born politician is at length confirmed.