# The Election of Representatives, parliamentary and municipal/Preface to the third edition

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
The criticism of seven years on this method of relieving electors from the artificial restraints which impede the freedom of action in representative institutions may be summed up in a few words,—that it is too complicated to be practical,—that it is hostile to our local system,—and that it would admit of abuse from party organization. If the first objection were true it would be insurmountable: the second would be an obstacle to the adoption of the method. If the last had any foundation, in its exposure to party influence it would still deserve a comparison with our present system. Apart from these supposed objections,—a system which would bring home to every elector the feeling of actual and personal responsibility,—convert what are no only majorities into unanimous constituencies, and mischievous and demoralizing contests into efforts of honourable emulation,—in which all moral and intellectual elements would have their direct expression and just force, and the corruption that remained would be confined within such natural and inevitable limits as to take from it nearly all its political and most of its personal evil,—has met with very general approbation.
First, as to the alleged complexity. The system, while it gives to every elector the most ample choice of candidates, makes a vote effectual in the election of one only. It is therefore necessary to provide for the probability that men of great popularity and eminence will have a large number of ​votes, many of which would be thrown away, if means were not given to the electors of transferring them to another candidate, in case the first they have named be elected without their aid. Accordingly, the form of the voting-paper, without making it compulsory on the voter to name more than one candidate, yet permits him to insert a second name under the first, a third under the second, and so on,—at his discretion, and according to the measure of his sympathy, his desire to show a concurrence of opinion, or to manifest his respect or appreciation. Those who come to the examination of this scheme for the first time will probably be amazed to learn, that—so far as there is anything to be done by the voter—this is the whole extent of the complexity from which so many politicians have shrunk.
Many of the epithets used in describing this proposal would appear intended less to invite attention than to turn away inquiry. Legal phraseology has been borrowed to cloud with its abstractions the simple act of writing the name of one candidate under another,—that the vote may be transferred to the second, if the candidate named first should have votes enough without it. It has been called a “contingent remainder,” and an “estate tail” in a vote! It may be left to the electors of the kingdom to judge between those who seek for them this vast augmentation of their electoral power, and those who tell them that a vote for a second person to be used on the contingency of the first not requiring it, is beyond their understanding. I would remark, however, that if any voter can be found to whom it is not intelligible,—the use of the contingent vote by others will do him no harm. Every power which he has under the present system is scrupulously reserved to him, except that (which may indeed have its value in the eyes of those who are skilful in wielding ignorance) of drowning the voices of other people. A vote is to be given to the candidate placed second on ​the paper, if the first has enough votes without it,—but how many are enough?—and how is that to be known? The simple course is to ascertain how many persons vote, and to try how many votes each member to be elected would have if the votes were equally divided. On the morning which follows the election day, the entire number of votes would be known. If 658,000 people had voted, and there were 658 members, 1000 would be enough (or be the quotient or quota) for each member; and if any candidate had more than 1000, the excess beyond that number would be transferred to the successive candidates named on the voting-papers. I suppose that no inspector of a national school would allow a child of ten years old to be reckoned as entitling it to head-money out of the public grant who is not able to divide the number of the voters by 658, and thus obtain the quota. But even this achievement in arithmetic is not required from any elector. It is an operation to be performed by registrars, to whom the numbers are reported.
It is then necessary to determine which of the voting-papers shall be taken to make up the member's quota, and which shall go to the next candidates. It is of little importance to the voters, but may be of much consequence to the candidates placed lower on the papers. The papers might be drawn by lot, but I have preferred a series of simple rules, in which the appropriation is made to depend on locality, and on the number of alternatives the voting-paper displays. These rules are to be applied by the registrars, and any voter to whom they might appear perplexing need not trouble himself with them. It is only necessary to satisfy him that the rule is impartial and just. The voter has nothing to do necessarily but to look to his own voting-paper. It will be deposited in his town. He may at any time refer to it, and see by the endorsement to which of his favourite candidates it has been appropriated. This will be proved by his name being found among the constituency of ​that candidate; and the fidelity of the disposition will be tested by tables showing that the votes severally appropriated make up the total polled. The telegraph and the railway are not of less public utility because few who use them are masters of the science of mechanics and the laws of electricity.
The alleged impracticability of the method has recently met with an unexpected and conclusive refutation. Mr. Lytton, Secretary of Legation at Copenhagen, judging that there was no subject of internal polity, which the inquiries of our ministers abroad could elucidate, so fraught with consequences deeply affecting the public prosperity, and none, moreover, in which the institutions of free states had gathered such small improvement in the progress of civilization—in July, 1863, laid before the government at home a paper on the mode of electing the Rigsraad, or Supreme Legislative Council of what was then the United Kingdom of Denmark and the Duchies. This method, which was first adopted in 1855, at the instance of Mr. Andræ, Minister of Finance, Mr. Lytton discovered to be almost identical with that which, after several more imperfect embodiments of the same leading idea, has been propounded in this Treatise. He regarded the existence and operation, for eight years, of an electoral system, which had theretofore been considered in England as a theory only, to be a very remarkable event in the history of representative institutions. “If” Mr. Lytton says, “the question, ‘Will it work’ can be eliminated, the more important question, ‘What will be the result of its working?’ will be entitled to increased attention.” With a rare appreciation of the essential elements of the scheme, and of their bearing under different political conditions, Mr. Lytton explains the extent to which it was capable of application in the election of the Rigsraad. Of the eighty members which composed ​that body twenty were nominated by the Crown for twelve years, and the remaining sixty were elected for eight years; thirty being chosen indirectly by the provincial assemblies, and thirty directly by the people. The system of quotas was adopted in both, the popular vote extending to the thirty elected directly. This limited application of the method, moreover, was for the election of an assembly whose ordinary sittings were only two months in every second year, and the membership of which conferred no great accession of dignity or influence, and opened but a very small, if any, field for political rivalry or effort. A seat in it had so little to invite activity or tempt ambition, that Mr. Andræ found it necessary to provide in his law for the case of a candidate who, after having been duly elected, should decline the seat. Even a simple declaration of candidature, it was said, would be distasteful; and it is the practice for those who desire the election of a particular person, to ascertain privately beforehand that he will not disappoint the electors. This condition of the national mind, and the antipathies of race in the Duchies, which were all the time on the point of breaking out into open war, together with the restricted measure in which the popular voice would be thus collected, caused the experiment to be made under circumstances as unfavourable as can well be conceived. A part of the kingdom repudiated the constitution, not owing to any opinion as to the mode of election, but from hatred of the union; and this reduced the directly elected representatives to twenty-two. A scheme, therefore, devised to abate the fierceness of electoral conflicts among people of great political activity, to moderate the bitterness of struggles by which parties labour for the extinction of each other, and to regulate and hold within reasonable bounds the force of passions that, pursuing with intense desire objects of personal and party ambition, too often threaten to sweep away in their resistless torrent the virtues, the moralities, and even the decencies of life, came thus, in ​a partial degree, into use amongst a people in whom the common current of political feeling and effort is so sluggish that an artificial stimulus must be employed to overcome its inert character. Yet, notwithstanding these hindrances, election by this method is effected without difficulty; it has facilitated the introduction to the national legislature of men of the highest character and intelligence, and is working out a corresponding improvement in the constituent bodies.
Secondly,—of the effect of the method on local elections. The system which really destroys the wholesome influences of locality is that which has long been, and still seems to be, most in favour with popular reformers,—grouping some boroughs, disfranchising others, here severing cities and counties, and there adding a score of villages to some small borough. The component parts are rather repelled than attracted by such undesired combinations. It is proposed to amend this anomalous patchwork, and allow the country spontaneously and without any arbitrary rule, to recover its natural subdivisions,—to recognize no right to any monopoly of electoral privilege, and in the place of disfranchisement to enfranchise not less than four hundred towns which are now shut out from any local action; and the proposed amendment is alleged to be destructive of the local character of our electoral system! To give the widest scope and inducement for local combination is to delocalize!
The apprehension of a disregard to localities is probably owing to the fact that the first step in the method is to add together all the votes given in the kingdom in order to compute the quota. Thence it is imagined that the whole kingdom is in some manner made one electorate, whereas, in truth, the computation is nothing more than a momentary operation to arrive at a common measure of the constituencies without any purpose of blending them together.
A doubt has, indeed, been expressed by one who has given much attention to the plan,—whether it is consistent with ​the maintenance of local distinctions, or with the identification of particular representatives with particular groups of voters. In the present edition, the eighth chapter, which treats of the duties of the returning officers, has been considerably expanded, in order that it may be better seen that none of the legal subdivisions of the constituency are effaced, nor any of the visible landmarks of the electoral field swept away; and that, on the contrary, as the surge of our national life rolls deeper and wider, such legal subdivisions will be multiplied, and many new landmarks added to the old. It will be seen that the identification of particular representatives with particular groups of voters is promoted and secured to an extent and with a completeness hitherto unknown.
A London merchant, on the register in Devonshire, may vote for a candidate for the City, and a Scotch merchant in London may vote for a candidate for Glasgow,—how is that consistent with the integrity of localities? It is true that any elector, however humble in rank, or feeble in influence, may pass by the candidates for his own constituency, and propose, instead of them, any other candidate he might prefer, but this is nothing more than his ancient common-law right. Every elector may now propose and vote for whom he pleases. This method enables him, however, to do much more,—and it is to this additional power that some of our politicians object, and against which they raise the cry that “localities are in danger.” It enables the elector to put his vote in writing, and makes it possible that the vote, although without effect in his own constituency, may help the return in some other place of the candidate for whom it is given. Yet it does this without any control over or interference with the voters of such other constituency. There may not be enough voters in it to make up the quota, or not enough given for that candidate, and the distant vote may therefore serve to complete it—not impeding but assisting everywhere the majority,​—the greatest number that can agree together,—in the work of electing their local member. Without such a power, it would be commonly useless, and even absurd, for an ordinary elector to propose a new candidate against the nominee of the clique or caucus of the borough; but this power, which vindicates his individual right, most of our politicians shrink from giving him. It would, they fear, make the voter too free. He is not to be trusted without the bridle and the bit. Extend the suffrage,—make the constituency more numerous,—but do not trust them out of harness. “All our schemes of election management may be defeated, if every voter had such extensive means of comparison and choice, and if no small cabal could affect the general result.”
With the integral political rights of counties, cities, boroughs, and corporate bodies, the constitution of this kingdom, and the public life and habits of its people, are inseparably interwoven. This method of election contains very much which would promote the development of such centres of action, and impart to them a purer and nobler spirit,—nothing that would weaken their force. Can it be supposed that the moment the electors are allowed a freedom of choice they will all immediately be seized with a desire to vote for some distant candidates with whom they are unacquainted, rather than for those whom they know,—who are near to them, whose addresses they have heard, and who have personal recommendations to the favour and respect of the town and neighbourhood? Local and corporate associations are highly and justly prized. From them the state derives benefits analogous to those which the close fellowship and community of the domestic and family relation afford to the individual. These natural ties are not so fragile that they disappear as soon as they cease to be forcibly kept alive by positive law. It argues but a small belief in the regard of our people for local action to suppose that they must be imprisoned within their constituency to be kept true to it.
​If we consider the mental effect on the observers, of nearly every kind of competition the result of which is doubtful, we shall find there is every reason to conclude that local interest, activity, and effort will be stimulated by an election in this form to a greater degree than heretofore, and will be of a far more wholesome character. Many more candidates will be everywhere put in nomination. The measure of local regard for each candidate the votes will display,—the anticipated evolution of varieties of preference,—the desire of the more public-spirited inhabitants that the choice of the majority may light on the best, or on him they think so,—will “present the situation of suspense and pleasurable engrossment” in great force. This aspect of the subject has been treated in another place, and, interesting as it is, I forbear to dwell upon it.
The third objection,—that a party “ticket” would be used, and party organization become omnipotent,—is scarcely more than an offset of the last,—that the method delocalizes. If, indeed, it created one electorate,—if every member were chosen for the whole kingdom, and by no county or town in particular,—each party might safely produce a printed ticket for its own followers, and be certain that, to the extent to which they adhered to that ticket, the candidates named upon it, one after the other, would make up their quotas or majorities, until the whole strength of the party is exhausted, and it can elect no more. Supposing, also, party devotion to be thus blind and indiscriminate,—that every voter chose to be either a Tory, a Whig, or a Radical, they might vote either for the T., W., or the K. ticket in blank, and leave it to the leaders of their parties to fill up the names according to the number of quotas which each could muster. Yet see how alien all this management is to our habitual action,—how irreconcileable with our forms of political life! Our pro​vinces are not the merely passive and stolid reflex of the opinions of the capital. The people of Liverpool or of Manchester would not set aside their eminent merchants or manufacturers for the nominees of a London club; nor would the inhabitants of Devon, or Warwick, or Edinburgh, or Glasgow, submit to such dictation. No county or borough would consent to use such tickets if they had not been consulted in the selection of any of the names. Even if the kingdom were a single electorate (voting by quotas) no party would dare to ignore,—on the contrary, each party would invite the co-operation of local eminence and the power which it carries with it.
A single electorate, voting by this method, and using party tickets, would still have no resemblance whatever to the “American ticket.” That “ticket” is got up to enable the numerical majority to hold together in one unbroken, compact mass, and crush the minority. It is politically a life-and-death struggle:—it admits of no balancing, no wavering,—no hesitating or half support. The stronger party will emerge in safety,—the weaker will perish.
A single electorate and the use of tickets by party supporters, voting in quotas, by the contingent method, would, alone, be a vast improvement. The strength of each party would be measured by the popularity of its principles,—each party would place its best men foremost in a gradation of supposed merit,—and each would select and nominate its very best to attract the support of the independent electors, while the latter would have before them a choice of the superior men of every party.
The proposed method, however, is not that of a single electorate. The representatives of the United Kingdom would be chosen by seven or eight hundred distinct constituencies, acting separately and apart, and it would become the endeavour of the most intelligent persons of every constituency to prevent it from being stultified by giving the major part of its votes to a candidate who would throw discredit ​upon it. The voting paper in every constituency would be different, and no uniform ticket could he safely used. Every candidate will require his name to be placed first, or first after some one certain of being elected,—or it will probably be of no use to him. The intercalation of any candidate who fails would prevent the vote from being used for any lower name, and may deprive it of any influence on the election. Parties may, indeed, adopt the use of printed voting papers, leaving blanks at the head, or near it, for the local candidates, and inserting below the names of other principal candidates of their side. The extent of the use of these papers, or “tickets” would measure the popular sympathy with the party whose opinions it express, and would give them the moral weight of such adherence. It is a mode of gathering a knowledge of popular opinion and sentiment which is every way desirable; and it would have no other than a salutary effect on the particular election.
In an ealier stage of the method it was proposed to reduce the number of candidates, and arrive at an equal quota for those who were elected, by giving a proportionate value to every contingent vote, and computing the total of such values as the measure of support each candidate had received. This was open to the objection that it gave inordinate weight to numbers acting by means of party papers or tickets, and the suggestion was for that reason withdrawn. The plan proposed for the city of Frankfort is liable to the same objection.
The principle always kept in view has been that in forming the representative assembly of the nation, full play should be given to the expression of all opinions and sentiments, that they may be admitted to the test and scrutiny of discussion. The electors are the dispersed inhabitants of an extensive and ​populous kingdom, possessing knowledge and powers of thought infinitely varied and diffused; and to expect that the electoral forms of a rude and illiterate age will gather for the national benefit the fruit of this expanded intelligence, is as reasonable as to suppose that the vast manufacturing results of this day could be produced by the primitive loom and the hammer. To succeed in this work it is indispensable that every elector should have the widest field of choice, and the most extensive sphere for co-operation. It is by comparison, that the standard of excellence is raised. “As we eliminate comparison we fall into dead acquiescence.” It is by the co-operation of kindred and sympathetic minds that great ends are accomplished. In the kingdom there is a range wide enough for that accord which can be rarely obtained in any single constituency. “The essence of liberty is the simultaneous manifestation and action of all rights, all interests, all social elements and forces.” We follow the true guiding of experience when we found our conclusions of the probable actions of men from the motives by which they are commonly guided: it is thus that the science of political economy has been evolved; and in the improvement of representative institutions we must pursue the same method.
As electoral action is freed, most of the evils which now accompany it will disappear. A seat in Parliament, as an avenue to social estimation, as well as to political power and rank, will still be an object of intense ambition ; and the rich candidate will as surely use his money to bribe, as the crafty and fluent candidate will use his tongue to delude. Penal laws cannot reach the latter, and only aggravate the demoralization occasioned by the former. But in casting off the legal shackles, this moral disorder is dealt with as physical maladies are encountered. Its virulence is abated,—as many of its causes as are capable of removal are got rid of; and, above all, the contagion is prevented from spreading to those who are in health. Personal representation equalizes the pecuni​ary value of every vote, and reduces it to its minimum. Three fourths of the temptation is thus swept away, and, what is even far better, no man can sell more than his own vote: he cannot at the same time, by turning the scale, sell his town, or affect the representation of the rest of his constituency. Nor would any candidate thenceforward be driven to call evil good, and praise conduct as virtuous and patriotic which he knows to have been selfish and corrupt.
Personal representation encourages every man to do the best that is in him, and leaves him without excuse if he does not; and it therefore in the highest degree tends to promote individual effort. “The general public opinion is formed and modified by what the mind of each individual contributes towards it: it represents the sum or balance of the abstract moral principles of the persons forming the community. The state can only hear advice, or yield to suasion, or imbibe the spirit of genuine improvement through the medium of the individuals of whom it is composed.” It was a remark of De Tocqueville that the rulers of our time sought only how to use men in order to effect great things. “I wish,” he said, “they would try a little more to make great men,—that they would set less value upon the work, and more upon the workman." Every detail of this scheme converges to one central point,—that of making the exercise of the suffrage a step in the elevation of the individual character, whether it be found in a majority or a minority. I disclaim for it, therefore, the title of a representation of minorities. M. Morin, to whose labours in Geneva I refer elsewhere, has better comprehended its object, and I presume to quote his description of it. “II est vrai que M. Hare poursuit un but plus élevé que la representation des minorités et que si celle-ci est obtenue, dans son système, ce n'est qu'indirectement. En conséquence, ce qui parait une défectuosité, considéré au point de vue des minorités, peut n'en être pas une, lorsqu'on se place à celui de l'auteur. M. Hare se propose avant tout ​d'affranchie l'électeur du joug des partis et de le relever à ses propres yeux. Pour cela, il le place en face de lui-même pendant l'acte important qu'il est appelé à accomplir et le rend partiellement responsable de la composition de la législature. Ce n'est donc pas sans motifs plausibles que M. Hare se présente comme fauteur de la représentation personnelle, plutôt que comme celle des minorités. La lecture de son traité conduit facilement à la persuasion que le pays qui façonnerait son organisation électorale, d'après de telles idées, s'assurerait les bienfaits d'un corps législatif, composé d'hommes capables et estimés, en même temps qu'il élèverait le niveau moral de la population”
The political education afforded to our people by the occasional opportunity of concurring in or opposing the election of one or two representatives, has been compared with that conferred by the town autonomy of the Greek cities—as of Athens, where the Demos met at short intervals, and exercised the office both of parliament and government, and questions of foreign policy and domestic administration were constantly argued. Certainly, with our present system the comparison is humiliating enough; but if the constitution would open to every voter a scope for thought and reflection as wide as his intellectual and moral horizon,—if it gave him a choice from among all who by their candidature show that they aspire to public distinction,—the political school of the “every-day Englishman” would surpass in value that of the citizen of Athens in its proudest time. The long procession of history, and the phenomena of a progressive civilization,—the accumulated records of human action,—the influence of Christianity,—the opening portals of natural science, afford endless themes for instruction, bearing on the policy and complicate arrangements of social life in modern times, of which the Greek orators or statesmen could not dream. The subjection of a theorem, moreover, to the calm ​deliberation of the closet is a more instructive process than its reception from lips however eloquent.
After all, the end is “good government,”—but that includes the moral and intellectual development of the men and women to be governed. Institutions are good which call them habitually to perform such public functions as tend to awaken a true conception of their real interests and duties in respect to their households, their neighbourhood, the state, and the brotherhood of nations; and lead them to realize their endowments of conscience and intellect, the gifts by which God has fixed their high place in the order of creation, and in the great inheritance of humanity. But a government is not good which, as to numbers of its people, contemplates no more than protection from an external violence,—which allows them no voice in the choice of their legislators, or in framing the laws by which they are to be ruled, and which disdains any appeal to them in its consultations on the public welfare. Such a government differs from natural society only inasmuch as the individual is guarded by the civil power instead of his own strong arm. It fails to cultivate the higher qualities of his nature, to foster a love of country, a regard for public duty, or even a just self-respect. What it bestows is but the attention of the kind master to his horse or his dog. It misses even the poor end at which it aims. The classes usurping all power cannot confer even the physical and material comfort of which they boast. Where the right is absent, the corresponding duty or responsibility will not be felt. The classes treated as inferior beings, will discard the higher obligations of civil life and throw upon those who have assumed the charge of their destinies, the blame, if not the consequences, of their moral weakness and degradation,—thence our load of pauperism, our catalogue of crime. The wise parent admits his children to his counsels, and makes them partners of his labours and his hopes, not from caprice or by fits and starts, ​but gradually and impartially, as education bears its fruit and intellect is matured. The nation is but a greater family.
If the choice be wide and free, the examination of the list of candidates, by an intelligent elector, with the practical object of placing on his voting paper the names of the most worthy of a seat in Parliament, would be an intellectual exercise of no mean value, bringing home to him important truths and noble aims. The thoughts it is calculated to awaken in his mind, and the discussion among his family and friends to which it is likely to give rise, would be sources of more than transitory benefit. He may give effectual support to the local candidate, and at the same time render a moral tribute to others. Few exercises would be more instructive than that of gathering information and forming an estimate of the character of candidate after candidate,—weighing their labours,—their public claims from achieved service, or the hopes inspired by youthful promise,—with the looked for pleasure of being able to offer an unsolicited testimony to merit and an unexpected homage to worth. This is no visionary expectation. Experience teaches us that it is an ordinary impulse, when the mind is not distorted by prejudice. “The judgment and criticism we pass freely upon our fellow-creatures, and their ways and performances, are a common gratification, partaking of the freedom of thought itself whatever good qualities strike our minds, or impress the community we live in, are sure to be sought after with especial ardour, whilst those that are in bad odour are kept in subjection. The contemplation of superior greatness is a fund of delight.” Aspiration is generally higher than knowledge, and multitudes of less education and narrower intelligence will gladly associate their votes with those of the more eminent and distinguished of their age.
It would probably become habitual with intelligent voters, to preserve a copy of the voting paper, making in it, from ​time to time, such alterations as the withdrawal of old and the introduction of new candidates, the progress of opinion and of events, might occasion. It will thus be a political register, and the act of framing it anew at each election will be an instructive lesson. The admission or rejection of every name may involve a conclusion on the domestic, social, or international questions of which he may be the type or exponent. The precipitancy with which the mind approves or rejects the claims which are put before it, and the caution it uses in sifting, weighing, and examining them, is the touch-stone of the order of intelligence. “Where the consciousness is not awake except under a very broad difference, we consider the mental constitution the opposite of intellectual. In whatever department of impressions the nicest sensibility to difference prevails, in that department will reside, in all probability, the intellectual aptitude of the individual.” The mere act of voting may thus be made the basis of a study widely diffusing a knowledge of the principles of social polity. “If the human mind grow dwarfish and enfeebled, it is ordinarily because it is left to deal with commonplace facts, and never summoned to the effort of taking the span and altitude of broad and lofty disclosures. The understanding will gradually bring itself down to the dimensions of the matters with which alone it is familiarized, till having long been accustomed to contract its powers, it shall lose wellnigh the ability to expand. The laws of the body are those of the mind. Exercise and excitement strengthen and energize—indolence and habits of insensitiveness, contract, debilitate, and at length kill.”
Everything which in political life liberates and increases the scope and influence of enlightened judgment and cultivated reason, is of inestimable service also to those who occupy the higher places in social rank, and possess in the greatest measure the advantages of education and leisure. ​It is to the state “that sovereign intellect naturally betakes, and here that it unfolds itself: not only does it give scope and space to the highest energies of the human understanding, it is also directly the parent, and the object of some of the noblest feelings which belong to our nature, and, these too, such as operate on the most comprehensive scale.” It was long ago said that “the main thing which social changes can do for the improvement of the higher classes is gradually to put an end to all unearned distinction, that the only road open to honour and ascendancy be that of personal qualities.” Bank and wealth set out with the most favourable auspices, and stand on the vantage-ground of competition. They will more certainly retain their position in the race, as they themselves eschew, and endeavour to purge political life of all that is vile and base; put forward their highest order of minds for public duties and public honours, and do their utmost to prevent seats in Parliament, or great offices or functions, from being made the appanage of triflers or weak men. It is not wise to stand contentedly by, as some would seem to advise, and wait the behest of public opinion to be communicated by the newspapers. Such apathy is perilous. It is true, as Lord Grey has said, that “to be in constant conflict with evil in some shape or other is obviously the condition appointed by Providence for men and nations, and the moment that struggles for improvement cease, corruption and decay commence.” Society, notwithstanding the wider diffusion of material prosperity, has yet a vast accumulation of political, moral, and physical evils to vanquish and sweep away. “Civilization is yet very young; the world is very far from having measured the extent of the career which is before it.” The great embodiment of the national life, the State itself, should be, in its popular action, like the awful seat of justice, as far: as possible free from ​every corrupting taint, and every degrading element, that it may attract to its service and duties the most enlightened and the purest minds. Instead of excluding large classes from the franchise, they should rather be invited to its exercise; but the invitation should be accompanied with the inseparable condition that every elector shall, in the act of voting, show both his capacity and his worth, and be enabled gradually to rise to the importance and dignity of the function with which he is intrusted.
I have collected in an Appendix to this edition, extracts showing the efforts that have been made to introduce this system in different parts of the world, and the large degree of support they have met with, notwithstanding its novelty. The progress of the idea among the more profound writers on political subjects is not less remarkable. If it has yet been adopted only in one northern kingdom,—if in the other free states of Europe, and the great Anglo-Saxon communities of the Southern Seas and the New World it has been hitherto a subject of barren discussion, it must be remembered that the powers of statesmen are limited; whilst effort for improvement is still the duty of all who possess any portion of political power. “A great ruler cannot shape the world after his own pattern. He is condemned to work in the direction of existing and spontaneous tendencies, and has only the discretion of singling out the most beneficial of these. Yet though a pilot cannot steer in opposition to wind and tide, the difference is great between a skilful pilot and none at all. Improvements of the very first order, and for which society is completely prepared, which lie in the natural course and tendency of human events, and are the next stage through which mankind will pass, may be retarded indefinitely for want of a great man, to throw the weight of his individual will and faculties into the trembling scale.”
February, 1865.
* ↑ Page 124.
* ↑ Errata—Wikieditor's note
* ↑ Reports of Her Majesty's Secretaries of Embassy and Legation on the Manufactures, Commerce, &c., of the Countries in which they reside. No. 7. Presented to both Houses by Command. 1864.
* ↑ Pages 164–174.
* ↑ Bain, The Emotions and the Will.
* ↑ Representation of every Locality and Intelligence. Fraser's Magazine, April, 1860, p. 536.
* ↑ Pages 187, 188. See also Appendix C. This is the difficulty alluded to by Mr. Mill in his Considerations on Representative Government, p. 158, 2nd ed. It has been obviated by excluding a contingent vote from any effect on the election, until it is taken to make up a quota or comparative majority.
* ↑ Appendix B., p. 299.
* ↑ See pp. 106-109, n.
* ↑ Gladstone.
* ↑ Appendix A. p. 295, and see p.255, n.
* ↑ Page 17.
* ↑ Freeman's History of Federal Government, p. 40.
* ↑ See pp. 253, 254.
* ↑ Bain, The Emotions and the Will.
* ↑ Id.
* ↑ Id.
* ↑ Gladstone.
* ↑ Mill.
* ↑ Parliamentary Government, &c., by Earl Grey, p. 113, n.
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