There, in one word, you have the whole philosophy of Second Chambers2.
How, then, did the nations of Europe come to hamper3 their legislative4 systems with such a useless, such an illogical adjunct? In sackcloth and ashes, let us confess the truth—we English led them astray: on us the shame; to us the dishonour5. Theorists, indeed (wise after the fact, as is the wont6 of theorists), have discovered or invented an imaginary function for Second Chambers. They are to preserve the people, it seems, from the fatal consequences of their own precipitancy. As though the people—you and I—the vast body of citizens, were a sort of foolish children, to be classed with infants, women, criminals, and imbeciles (I adopt the chivalrous7 phraseology of an Act of Parliament), incapable8 of knowing their own minds for two minutes together, and requiring to be kept straight by the fatherly intervention9 of Dukes of Marlborough or Marquises of Ailesbury. The ideal picture of the level-headed peers restraining the youthful impetuosity of the representatives of the people from committing to-day some rash act which they would gladly repent10 and repeal11 to-morrow, is both touching12 and edifying13. But it exists only in the minds of the philosophers, who find a reason for everything just because it is there. Members of Parliament, I have observed, seem to know their own minds every inch as well as earls—nay, even as marquises.
The plain fact of the matter is, all the Second Chambers in the world are directly modelled upon the House of Lords, that Old Man of the Sea whom England, the weary Titan, is now striving so hard to shake off her shoulders. The mother of Parliaments is responsible for every one of them. Senates and Upper Houses are just the result of irrational14 Anglomania. When constitutional government began to exist, men turned unanimously to the English Constitution as their model and pattern. That was perfectly15 natural. Evolutionists know that evolution never proceeds on any other plan than by reproduction, with modification16, of existing structures. America led the way. She said, "England has a House of Commons; therefore we must have a House of Representatives. England has also a House of Lords; nature has not dowered us with those exalted17 products, but we will do what we can; we will imitate it by a Senate." Monarchical18 France followed her lead; so did Belgium, Italy, civilisation19 in general. I believe even Japan rejoices to-day in the august dignity of a Second Chamber. But mark now the irony20 of it. They all of them did this thing to be entirely21 English. And just about the time when they had completed the installation of their peers or their senators, England, who set the fashion, began to discover in turn she could manage a great deal better herself without them.
And then what do the philosophers do? Why, they prove to you the necessity of a Second Chamber by pointing to the fact that all civilised nations have got one—in imitation of England. Furthermore, it being their way to hunt up abstruse22 and recondite23 reasons for what is on the face of it ridiculous, they argue that a Second Chamber is a necessary wheel in the mechanism24 of popular representative government. A foolish phrase, which has come down to us from antiquity25, represents the populace as inevitably26 "fickle," a changeable mob, to be restrained by the wisdom of the seniors and optimates. As a matter of fact, the populace is never anything of the sort. It is dogged, slow, conservative, hard to move; it advances step by step, a patient, sure-footed beast of burden; and when once it has done a thing, it never goes back upon it. I believe this silly fiction of the "fickleness27" of the mob is mainly due to the equally silly fictions of prejudiced Greek oligarchs about the Athenian assembly—which was an assembly of well-to-do and cultivated slave-owners. I do not swallow all that Thucydides chooses to tell us in his one-sided caricature about Cleon's appointment to the command at Sphacteria, or about the affair of Mitylene; and even if I did, I think it has nothing to do with the question. But on such utterly28 exploded old-world ideas is the whole modern argument of the Second Chamber founded.
Does anybody really believe great nations are so incapable of managing their own affairs for themselves through their duly-elected representatives that they are compelled to check their own boyish ardour by means of the acts of an irresponsible and non-elective body? Does anybody believe that the House of Commons works too fast, and gets through its public business too hurriedly? Does anybody believe we improve things in England at such a break-neck pace that we require the assistance of Lord Salisbury and Lord St. Leonards to prevent us from rushing straight down a steep place into the sea, like the swine of Gadara? If they do, I congratulate them on their psychological acumen29 and their political wisdom.
What the Commons want is not a drag, but a goad—nay, rather, a snow-plough.
No; the plain truth of the matter is this: all the Second Chambers in the world owe their existence, not to any deliberate plan or reason, but to the mere30 accident that the British nobles, not having a room big enough to sit in with the Commons, took to sitting separately, and transacted31 their own business as a distinct assembly. With so much wisdom are the kingdoms of the earth governed! How else could any one in his senses have devised the idea of creating one deliberative body on purpose to mutilate or destroy the work of another? to produce from time to time a periodical crisis or a periodical deadlock32? There is not a country in the world with a Second Chamber that doesn't twice a year kick and plunge33 to get rid of it.
The House of Lords was once a reality. It consisted of the ecclesiastical hierarchy—the bishops34 and mitred abbots; with the official hierarchy—the great nobles, who were also great satraps of provinces, and great military commanders. It was thus mainly made up of practical life-members, appointed by merit. The peers, lay and spiritual, were the men who commended themselves to the sovereign as able administrators35. Gradually, with prolonged peace, the hereditary36 element choked and swamped the nominated element. The abbots disappeared, the lords multiplied. The peer ceased to be the leader of a shire, and sank into a mere idle landowner. Wealth alone grew at last to be a title to the peerage. The House of Lords became a House of Landlords. And the English people submitted to the claim of irresponsible wealth or irresponsible acres to exercise a veto upon national legislation. The anomaly, utterly indefensible in itself, had grown up so slowly that the public accepted it—nay, even defended it. And other countries, accustomed to regard England—the Pecksniff among nations—as a perfect model of political wisdom, swallowed half the anomaly, and all the casuistical reasoning that was supposed to justify37 it, without a murmur38. But if we strip the facts bare from the glamour39 that surrounds them, the plain truth is this—England allows an assembly of hereditary nobodies to retard40 or veto its legislation nowadays, simply because it never noticed the moment when a practical House of administrative41 officers lapsed42 into a nest of plutocrats.
Mend or end? As it stands, the thing is a not-even-picturesque medi?val relic43. If we English were logical, we would arrange that any man who owned so many thousand acres of land, or brewed44 so many million bottles of beer per annum, should ipso facto be elevated to the peerage. Why should not gallons of gin confer an earldom direct, and Brighton A's be equivalent to a marquisate? Why not allow the equal claim of screws and pills with coal and iron? Why disregard the native worth of annatto and nitrates? Baron45 Beecham or Lord Sunlight is a first-rate name. As it is, we make petty and puerile46 distinctions. Beer is in, but whiskey is out; and even in beer itself, if I recollect47 aright, Dublin stout48 wore a coronet for some months or years before English pale ale attained49 the dignity of a barony. No Minister has yet made chocolate a viscount. At present, banks and minerals go in as of right, while soap is left out in the cold, and even cotton languishes50. If the Chancellor51 of the Exchequer52 put up titles to auction53, while abolishing the legislative function of the Lords, there would be millions in it. But as we English are not logical, our mending would probably resolve itself into fatuous54 tinkering. We might get rid of the sons, but leave the fathers. We might flood the Lords with life peers, but leave the veto. Such tactics are too Britannic. "Stone dead hath no fellow!"
点击收听单词发音
1 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 hamper | |
vt.妨碍,束缚,限制;n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 legislative | |
n.立法机构,立法权;adj.立法的,有立法权的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 dishonour | |
n./vt.拒付(支票、汇票、票据等);vt.凌辱,使丢脸;n.不名誉,耻辱,不光彩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 chivalrous | |
adj.武士精神的;对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 intervention | |
n.介入,干涉,干预 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 repent | |
v.悔悟,悔改,忏悔,后悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 repeal | |
n.废止,撤消;v.废止,撤消 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 edifying | |
adj.有教训意味的,教训性的,有益的v.开导,启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 irrational | |
adj.无理性的,失去理性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 modification | |
n.修改,改进,缓和,减轻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 monarchical | |
adj. 国王的,帝王的,君主的,拥护君主制的 =monarchic | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 civilisation | |
n.文明,文化,开化,教化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 irony | |
n.反语,冷嘲;具有讽刺意味的事,嘲弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 abstruse | |
adj.深奥的,难解的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 recondite | |
adj.深奥的,难解的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 mechanism | |
n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 antiquity | |
n.古老;高龄;古物,古迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 fickleness | |
n.易变;无常;浮躁;变化无常 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 acumen | |
n.敏锐,聪明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 transacted | |
v.办理(业务等)( transact的过去式和过去分词 );交易,谈判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 deadlock | |
n.僵局,僵持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 bishops | |
(基督教某些教派管辖大教区的)主教( bishop的名词复数 ); (国际象棋的)象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 administrators | |
n.管理者( administrator的名词复数 );有管理(或行政)才能的人;(由遗嘱检验法庭指定的)遗产管理人;奉派暂管主教教区的牧师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 hereditary | |
adj.遗传的,遗传性的,可继承的,世袭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 glamour | |
n.魔力,魅力;vt.迷住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 retard | |
n.阻止,延迟;vt.妨碍,延迟,使减速 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 administrative | |
adj.行政的,管理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 lapsed | |
adj.流失的,堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 );陷入;倒退;丧失 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 relic | |
n.神圣的遗物,遗迹,纪念物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 brewed | |
调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 ); 酝酿; 沏(茶); 煮(咖啡) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 puerile | |
adj.幼稚的,儿童的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 recollect | |
v.回忆,想起,记起,忆起,记得 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 attained | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 languishes | |
长期受苦( languish的第三人称单数 ); 受折磨; 变得(越来越)衰弱; 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 chancellor | |
n.(英)大臣;法官;(德、奥)总理;大学校长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 exchequer | |
n.财政部;国库 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 auction | |
n.拍卖;拍卖会;vt.拍卖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 fatuous | |
adj.愚昧的;昏庸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |