Littell's Living Age/Volume 126/Issue 1622/The King in England
THE KING IN ENGLAND.
The article in the Contemporary Review which the whole world attributes to Mr. Gladstone, chiefly on account of the singular paragraph neither admitting nor denying the authorship which was inserted in the newspapers at his request, contains several just and striking remarks on the change which has taken place in the character of English kingship during the last quarter of a century; but the facts which the writer has collected from his own observation and experience do not seem to us to justify his optimistic tone or that of his critics. He anxiously insists that the crown retains some fragments of actual power and a great amount of indirect influence; but he says little calculated to reassure those who, with the keenest sense of the value of all forms of authority, and of monarchy among them, look forward with great misgiving to the part which the crown may one day be forced to play under the changed conditions of the English Constitution. Such persons see that, in spite of the manifold understandings and usages by which the power of the crown is at present limited, there is nothing in the language publicly employed about the king or queen, and not much in the letter of the law, to distinguish kingly authority in England from kingly authority in Germany or Russia. They see, on the other hand, that this authority is ultimately exercised by a group of men chosen by the majority of the House of Commons, and they ask themselves what will happen if this group comes some day to represent a fierce and unscrupulous democracy. If the king becomes the name under which a power of this sort governs, what barriers stand in its way? What law would be broken if it swamped the House of Lords, dismissed every functionary holding office during pleasure, and, wherever the king is mentioned in an Act of Parliament, employed the authority or discretion vested in him exactly as it pleased and for its own immediate ends? There is plenty of evidence that in a highly democratic society these dangers may be mitigated by the provisions of written constitutions. Only once in the whole history of the United States has any party had the opportunity which, in the case we have supposed, would be enjoyed in this country by a group of English Radicals. After the close of the American war the Northern Republicans had the presidency and both Houses of Congress in their hands, and they also commanded such a number of State legislatures as enabled them to mould the Constitution at their pleasure. Even then the unexpected resistance of President Johnson greatly hampered the dominant party; and now, when the Constitution has returned to its regular method of working, we can see that it is so framed as to prevent any set of opinions from having an instant and unqualified victory. The Democratic opposition has swept the country at the recent elections; but the new House of Representatives does not meet till December, and President Grant remains peaceably in power. Before the Democrats can enjoy the full authority of a strong British ministry the president must be got rid of after a fixed period of office, and, after a still longer interval, the composition of the Senate must be changed. Perhaps before the Democratic command of executive and legislative power is complete the tide of opinion will have begun to ebb, and some branch of the government will again have passed to the Republicans. Such is the play of check and countercheck which results from the adoption of written constitutions deliberately devised to moderate the eagerness and passion of democratic enthusiasts. What have we that corresponds to it? Have we not preserved in the office of the king an authority easily kept in order by those restraints which are themselves the fruit of aristocratic and conservative sentiment, but capable of being turned to ultra-revolutionary purposes whenever that sentiment has wholly decayed or can be defied with impunity?
The writer in the Contemporary Review points out, doubtless with great correctness, that at present the crown retains much influence and some real power. It has, for instance, the power of choosing between the statesmen presented to it by the House of Commons. If of two men the king or queen dislikes B more strongly than A, A has a great advantage over B; and, under existing circumstances, it will always be found that B's colleagues are able to discover plausible pretexts for keeping him in the background. Again, the relations of the Cabinet to the crown, though little understood by the public, are such as to give great practical importance to the sovereign. A prime minister in respect of affairs generally, and a Cabinet minister with reference to the affairs of his department, must explain every matter of moment as fully and carefully as does Bismarck to William or Gortschakoff to Alexander. The ministerial leader in the House of Commons must send a syllabus of each night's debate to Windsor or Balmoral as regularly as the letters now printed, which passed between Lord North and George III. All criticisms on such communications must be respectfully received; all objections must be attempted to be met; all difficulties explained. It is quite true that statesmen who stand in this relation to a royal personage will be always more or less influenced by anybody who can give or save them so much trouble. Nor is it less true that, as the writer in the Contemporary Review explains at great length in extraordinarily involved and roundabout language, an increasing number of wealthy people are ambitious of going to court-balls and concerts, and that the professors of every form of art delight in royal patronage. But the question is, how far will all this profit a nation in the hour of democratic ascendency? The friction which it implies is very considerable, but it can manifestly be overcome in an instant by a strong and self-confident and even by a very impudent man. No doubt the king or the queen might worry a government of ultra-Radicals almost to death so long as they chose to submit; but what would happen if a Radical premier declared his inability to carry popular measures on account of the constant difficulties made by the crown? Obviously, the crown is reduced to the alternative of turning them out or holding its peace forever after. It is, again, quite conceivable that all the social influence of the court might be used with great effect against a body of democratic ministers; but here, too, a strong and resolute demagogue might paralyze royal intrigue by simply denouncing it. There is not the smallest doubt that all these sources of influence have a real existence and are actually at the command of the British crown, and that under present circumstances they are of much importance to it. But how can any man bring himself to believe that any reliance can be placed on them in such crises as those to which all modern social tendencies are pointing, or deem them comparable to written provisions checking, limiting, and delaying the successes of political zealots ?
The main theme of the Contemporary Review is the character and influence of the prince-consort, and we think it abundantly proved that we are at present living under a political system of his invention. The system has been much impaired since his death through the widowhood and voluntary seclusion of the queen. But Prince Albert was the first to gather up the scattered fragments of power and influence which George and William had left, and to use them freely but we must own rather intelligently than wisely. The true moral of the history of this remarkable man is not, however, suggested by the writer before us. We see no advantage in keeping back a set of facts which biographers and their critics slur over, but which were once well known. The prince-consort was not always popular in England. One part of English society disliked him for his accomplishments and his rather ostentatious indifference to its favourite pursuits; that very powerful portion of it which is called the religious world detested him for his theological liberalism; and the multitude scoffed at his alleged parsimony and distrusted him as a foreigner. Amid all this, there is no doubt that he was a very able, very upright, and very cultivated man, with no very deep insight into English politics, and not a few delusions (as it has turned out) about the politics of the Continent. We think, however, it is clear that in a more democratic state of society he would have been a great danger; and that one of the very best men ever associated with English royalty might, half a century later, have been made the pretext for one of those violent outbreaks against existing institutions which, in older English history, had their excuse in the supposed noxious influence of a favourite near the throne.