21 MARCH 1914, Page 7

MR. LLOYD GEORGE.

I1' Mr. Asquith is the most important of Liberal politicians, Mr. Lloyd George is the most successful. His success has been extraordinary. Everything he has touched has brought additional kudos to himself—at least temporarily—and, though he is certainly the beat abused of contemporary politicians, he is also the most admired by his own party, and, it may be added, the most popular with his own opponents. People who only read Mr. Lloyd George's speeches, with their unending power of vitupera- tion, cannot understand how a man with such a bitter tongue can succeed in maintaining friendly relations with the friends of those whom he abuses. The answer is that Mr. Lloyd George possesses a personal charm of manner which wins the sympathy of almost all who meet him. This fact counts enormously in his success. There have been politicians in the past with greater ability than Mr. Lloyd George, and there are some in the present, who have failed again and again solely because of their personal bad temper. It would be unkind to put their names on paper, but their example remains a warning to those who know. Nobody, of course, takes Mr. Lloyd George's bon- homie at its face value. Everyone understands that it is a combination of a kindly temperament with political calcu- lation. He is, in fact, the "compleat courtier," and we are most of us so built that we prefer to be pleasantly deceived by the courtier's smile rather than rudely braced by the candour of a friend.

But good temper in private, supported by a genius for personalities and miscellaneous vituperation in public, clearly would not alone command a wide democratic success. By the nature of things, the influence of personal geniality must be limited to a comparatively narrow circle. The "compleet courtier" knows that in a democratically governed country his main appeal must be to the masses, just as in an autocratically governed country he must pander to the monarch. The peculiar success of Mr. Lloyd George, which makes him an outstand- ing figure in contemporary politics, is due to his capacity for dealing with crowds of men. He understands the mob as no other politician of to-day, not even Mr. Winston Churchill, understands it. He has grasped the fact that it is not the thing done, but the thing said, which is important if men in the mass are to be influenced. For the spoken word can be immediately appreciated by thousands of men, and, with the aid of the Press, by millions of men, at one moment; whereas before people can judge of the thing done time must elapse and investi- gation take place. Needless to say, we are here expounding no new doctrine. The secrets of the demagogue's art have been understood in all ages. They have been better described by no one in our own county than by Dr. Robert South, himself a famous orator, who preached and wrote in the latter half of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth centuries. The whole position is summarized in the following quotation from one of his sermons :— "The generality of mankind is wholly and absolutely governed by words and names: without, nay, for the most part even against, the knowledge men have of things. The multitude, or common rout, like a drove of sheep, or an herd of oxen, may be managed by any noise or cry which their drivers shall accustom them to. And, he who will set up for a skilful manager of the rabble, so long as they have but ears to hoar, needs never enquire whether they have any understanding whereby to judge; but with two or three popular, empty words, such as 'Popery and Superstition: `Right of the Subject,' 'Liberty of Conscience,' 'Lord Jesus Christ' well tuned and humour'd ; may whistle them backwards and forwards, upwards and downwards, till he is weary ; and get up upon their backs when he is so."

One is almost tempted to believe that Mr. Lloyd George has deliberately taken this passage for his guide in life, and that possibly it may be found inscribed in letters of gold over his bed. Here we have the explanation of the persistency with which be drags Dukes into alibis popular speeches. He knows perfectly well that in the present temper of the English mob a Duke is a person who excites popular odium, and therefore, though the fact that a man has inherited a dukedom may have absolutely no relevance to the particular point at issue, Mr. Lloyd George rounds off every argument by dragging in a Duke. In the same way he drags in pathetic references to the sufferings of the poor. These, again, may have absolutely no relevance to the particular proposal be is making. It is common knowledge that the poor do suffer in many ways, and it is the common desire of all of us to diminish this suffering; but the fact of the suffering is no argument whatever for any particular method of dealing with difficult social problems. The hardships of the poor and the loneliness of widows serve just as well as a text for speeches in defence of Tariff Reform or the rights of property as for speeches in favour of Socialism. Mr. Lloyd George, how- ever, with the true instinct of the demagogue, knows that the mob is not affected by reason but by sentiment, and that a reference, with a well-worked-up break in the voice, to the humble cottage or the lonely widow will provoke a burst of cheering when a closely reasoned argument in favour of a particular course of policy would pass unheeded and uncomprehended above the heads of the audience.

It is because Mr. Lloyd George understands these things that he has succeeded. And yet what does his success amount to? From his own point of view, it is superb. It has brought him the most important position in the Government next to that of Prime Minister ; it has brought him the pleasure, which many men appreciate, of being honoured almost more than a Sovereign by crowds of his fellow-countrymen, and having his every movement chronicled by the newspaper Press of both parties. That is success of a kind ; but when we turn from the personal aspects to the public aspects of this success the whole picture changes. It is impossible to point to any achieve- ment by Mr. Lloyd George which a serious statesman could regard with satisfaction. Some of his admirers in earlier days used to speak with bated breath of the Port of London Bill. People who know a little more about the subject are aware that the Port of London Bill was a Departmental measure which Mr. Lloyd George took up when he went to the Board of Trade, and which was in no sense his personal work, although to him belongs the credit of getting it through the House of Commons. The only pieces of constructive legislation for which he is per- sonally responsible are the Budget of 1909 and the Insurance Act of 1911. The Budget of 1909, as even his own admirers now know, has been, so far as its distinctive features were concerned, a colossal failure. The subject has been so often dealt with in these columns that it is almost superfluous to repeat again that a novel system of taxation, which its author promised would yield revenue to pay for Dreadnoughts and Old-Age Pensions, has resulted

in a huge net loss to the public Exchequer ; while the valuation intended to form a basis for these taxes has

depreciated landed property throughout the kingdom, has checked the progress of building, and is useless for any practical purpose whatsoever.

The National Insurance Act cannot be so sweepingly condemned. It was based on the sound principle that men should pay for what they want. To make such a proposal, in view of the political difficulties in giving effect to it., showed a certain quality of courage, for which full credit is due to Mr. Lloyd George. It must be added, too, that, if he had not been so skilful a demagogue, he could never have succeeded in passing an Act which imposes a direct tax upon many millions of the poorest people in the country as well as upon all employers of labour. In addition to these essential elements of unpopularity, the National Insurance Act cut right athwart the interests of the Friendly Societies and roused the opposition of the medical profession. If such a scheme had been put forward by any sedate, calmly reasoning statesman, it would have fallen dead. No one would here dared to support it. But, because Mr. Lloyd George knows how to play on the passions of the mob, he was able to persuade the country to accept a Bill which has probably done more than any other measure in the recollection of living men to upset the habits of the masses of the people.

While the personal triumph involved in passing such a measure illustrates the extraordinary power which the clever demagogue can wield, Mr. Lloyd George's quarrel with the doctors equally illustrates the defeats of the demagogue's habit of mind. There is little doubt that in the earlier stages of preparing his Bill Mr. Lloyd George forgot the doctors. He forgot them because, being a demagogue, he did not think it worth while to trouble about a body of men whose voting force was limited. It was only when they organized a powerful professional resistance that he found it necessary to consult them, and then—again in the easy fashion of the demagogue— lie bought off their opposition at the taxpayer's expense, and converted a measure which the doctors thought would ruin them into a very gold-mine for their pro- fession.

It may be argued that the success achieved in passing into law such a measure as this is a justification of the demagogic method. The answer is emphatically "No," unless the measure itself has merits sufficient to secure its permanence. And the growing irritation created by the Insurance Act shows that this favourable view cannot safely be taken. A measure which one demagogue carried over the heads of the people, by the use of sentimental phrases and an appeal to party passion, may be swept away again by another demagogue, appealing to the self- interest of the majority of the voters. Thus, though it is conceivable that now and again a demagogue, who sees clearly the interests of his country, may utilize his power to advance measures for which, without his peculiar control of the mob, the country might have to wait for genera- tions, yet one can never be sure of the permanence of the progress achieved unless the measure is based on carefully thought out plans, so that it will stand the test of experi- ence. That is where the Insurance Act fails. It is a measure botched up by a politician in a hurry, and, though the principle of insurance is perfectly sound, the details are so badly worked out as to cause acute and unneces- sary irritation, and to render the permanence of the Act a matter of grave doubt.

A word must be said about the Old-Age Pensions Act, not because that is a Lloyd-Georgian measure, but because Mr. Lloyd George, with characteristic astuteness, has allowed the legend to grow up that he was responsible for it. As a matter of fact, it was drafted before he became Chancellor of the Exchequer, and was handed over to him to carry through the House of Commons. He had no more personal responsibility for it than any other member of the Cabinet, and less than the particular members who drafted it.

If we have refrained from dealing in this artiole with the most debatable and debated episode in Mr. Lloyd George's career, it is not because we have forgotten it, or hold that it may be ignored as a thing atoned for—we mean, of course, his share in the Marconi scandal. Our readers know our views, and there is, therefore, no need to repeat them—especially when to do so might prejudice the investi- gation of Lord Murray's case now before the Lords Committee. We must point out, however, one aspect of Mr. Lloyd George's action in the Marconi affair which separates his case from those of his colleagues. In 1900 lie fiercely condemned Mr. Chamberlain for not showing due delicacy and discretion in connexion with his invest- ments, and for setting a low instead of a high example. In 1912, Mr. Lloyd George, to put the thing at its lowest, far exceeded Mr. Chamberlain in want of care in such matters. On his own admissions, he sinned against the light. Take what view we will of the Marconi incident, Mr. Lloyd George stands self-condemned. Temperance may be a folly, drunkenness the most venial of offences, but we must all condemn the teetotal missioner who not only gets drunk, but protests that he is doing nothing he need be ashamed of I