31 AUGUST 1907, Page 9

POLITICAL OPINIONS.

IT is rare to hear an Englishman say, "I have no politics." In England we all have political opinions, and are sorry for our American friends who say they have none. It is very wrong of them to be content with such a state of indifference, we feel. Every man should come to a conclusion in matters so nearly concerning his own country. On the other hand, there are a vast number of people in this country of all classes whose political opinions consist in little more than loyalty to a label. They are excellent fillers of ballot-boxes, they always come to the poll ; but if one asks what foundation they have for their party preference, it is often ludicrously inadequate to support so weighty a structure. Very often it is accident which puts them behind the Liberal or the Tory leader, or perhaps a constitutional content or discontent with things as they are. Very often the personal element may come in to decide them, or that strange obstinacy which frequently rises to loyalty and descends sometimes almost to idiocy in the English character, and binds a man for life to the convictions he con- ceived at twenty-one. It is commonly supposed, too, that a great number of people are in political captivity to particular newspapers ; but the effect of popular papers may well be exaggerated. The last elections proved the Press less powerful than it had imagined. Many counteracting influences have to be taken into consideration, including even thatof reflex action. We heard the other day of a noble Lord who, as soon as he succeeded his father, determined definitely to settle his political convictions before exercising his vote in the House of Lords. His inclina- tions drew him strongly in one direction, but desiring to be quite impartial, he took in for three mornings running a half- penny paper upon the opposite side. Upon the third day he declared that he could not read such rubbish again, and was thus able for the sum of three-halfpence to part with his doubts, and now lives and votes in the clear atmosphere of assured conviction. We recommend this true story to the serious consideration of all our contemporaries. But not all men are so anxiously impartial as this reader of both sides. There are men, there are many women, whose political opinions are founded upon intuition alone,—that wonderful power which always accompanies genius, but is not always accompanied by justice. Not long ago the present writer sat at luncheon in a public place close to a middle-aged Irish lady who seemed to be addressing all who could hear her. Her Unionism was impeccable, her criticisms upon the mental and social position of the representatives of her country were trenchant. At length, slipping from Irish to Scotch and English Members, she attacked the present Government, beginning with the Prime Minister. "I have the worst opinion of him," she said. "I had before I knew anything about him."

'Political opinions founded on self-interest are perhaps the commonest of all political opinions, and of course, within limits, self-interest forms a legitimate ground of conviction ; but now and then the interests at stake are wholly irrelevant to the opinions adopted. "I am a strong Protectionist," said a greengrocer in a small town in West Surrey. "Ten years ago I was the only greengrocer in the place ; now there are three. Such things ought to be prevented." Accordingly he voted and worked heart and soul for the Tory candidate, whose economic views certainly did not embrace the destruction of the othertwo struggling greengrocees.

The personal element counts, of course, in every possible concatenation of human circumstances, and it ought to count a great deal in politics; but however good a motive it may make for the choice of legislators, it is not a very logical foundation for political opinions. Yet men are regarded as Liberals or Tories according to whom they vote for.

"What has made you a Liberal P" said a Tory squire, chatting amicably with his stationmaster. "Well, Sir, I knew the Liberal candidate, and a very nice gentleman he is; but if you like to stand next time, Sir, I'll vote for you," was the reply. The stationmaster's method of political decision is in use also among the educated. A gallant officer among the acquaintance of the present writer was heard to declare not many days ago that he always voted one way, not from any great interest in the issues at stake on either side, but "because I know those fellows, and I don't know the others." Determination to do as he has done before, to side with the side with which he has always sided, no matter what question be under discussion, is the most powerful factor in many a man's politics. A great fear of appearing in their own eyes as renegades puts more men into mental strait-jackets than ever the fear of public opinion has done. The remark of a Scotch farmer who, in obedience to the entreaties of a great lady for whom he bad an unbounded respect, voted Tory during the war, throws light upon this state of mind. "This once I'll change to please you, Mistress N—," he said, " but, mark me, it's the last time I'll change."

Even in the Lower House we do not imagine that political opinions are always founded upon historic, economic, patriotic, or social considerations. We have heard of young Members who "mugged up" their own side with a " coach " before standing, and who would have regarded what could be said on the other as boys going in for a history examination regard what is "not their period,"—that is, as confusing matter to be kept out of the mind except when necessary to frustrate the spite of a political heckler or a viva-voce examiner.

It does not do to dwell separately upon such stories as these. They are horribly discouraging, and make one feel as though the future of the country were an affair of haphazard. Indeed, haphazard, qualified by money considerations and that strange vein of patriotism which is almost entirely composed of indignation, would seem to be the strongest forces in British politics, if one heard nothing but chance political conversations between respectably dressed persons in trains and restaurants. Indignation against other peoples under other flags, and against their own people under other labels, is expressed by them as though it were a duty in itself. How often is a silent listener tempted to say, as an old woman in South London did during the municipal elections to an educated friend who was endeavouring to give her a reasonable notion upon subjects outside her home and her backyard : "I think there's too much made of those politics ! I've very little patience with 'em myself." But, after all, is this impatient view the right one ? Putting aside such politicians as the greengrocer and the Irishwoman, is it not possible that many merely nominal Liberals and Tories do a great deal of good to their own side, and make part of the strength of that somewhat illogical but wonderfully practical system of government under which we live and flourish ? Is it not just because so many people do not understand nor care about the differences of principle which underlie our party names that we get on as well as we do? It is doubtful whether two compact masses of heart-whole Radicals and Conserva- tives, each bent entirely upon the carrying out of their own well-reasoned theories, would not be a terribly dangerous, if perfectly logical, state of affairs. As it is, we have uncon- scious but natural Liberals upon the Conservative side, and unconscious Conservatives among the Liberals. The fact that each side often make themselves responsible for measures which should logically emanate from their opponents is probably one for which we have to be thankful, though we cannot avoid the reproach mentioned above that a great part of each great division is loyal to a label rather than to a theory. Is it not our contempt for logic when it conflicts with instinctive common-sense which enables us to tack before the irresistible wind of public opinion more successfully than any nation in Europe, neither courting de- struction by a full-fledged opposition to its force, nor drifting aimlessly into the future, having lost our bearings by a deter- mined breach with the past ?