From these observations it will be clear that the social condition of the country was ripe for the introduction of representative institutions, and that without some such solution of the problem, the best interests of the nation would in all probability have been seriously imperilled. It will be seen, also, that the Government did all they could, taking the circumstances of the case into account, in making the necessary preparations. From these reasons it may, perhaps, be a priori concluded that the future of Constitutional régime in Japan is one of bright promise. But a priori arguments are not much in vogue in these days of experimental science. Let me, therefore, take a glance, before I conclude, at the history of the Imperial Diet, and try to understand the situation after eight years of experiment. What does such a study teach us respecting the future?

The history of the Japanese Parliament, briefly told, is as follows: The first Diet was opened in November, 1890, and the twelfth session in May, 1898. In this brief space of time there have been four dissolutions and five Parliaments.* From the very first the collision between the Government and the Diet has been short and violent. In the case of the first dissolution, in December, 1891, the question turned on the Budget estimate, the Diet insisting on the bold curtailment of items of expenditure. In the second dissolution, in December, 1893, the question turned on the memorial to be presented to the Throne, the Opposition insisting in very strong terms on the necessity of strictly enforcing the terms of treaties with Western Powers, the Diet regard

* The regular term of a Parliament is four years in the House of Representatives and seven in the House of Peers. There has hitherto been no Parliament which has completed the regular term of mandate. The present Parliament had already passed three years, and it seemed all but certain that in 1898, for the first time, a Japanese Parliament would be dissolved through the expiration of its regular mandate. But quite unexpectedly the last Parliament was dissolved in its third year.

NEW SERIES.-VOL. LXVIII., No. 4.

foreign politics. The third dissolution, in June, 1894, was also on the same question. The Cabinet, in these two latter cases, was under the presidency of Marquis Ito (then Count), and was vigorously pushing forward negotiations for treaty revision, through the brilliant diplomacy of Count Mutsu, the Foreign Minister. This strict-enforcement agitation was looked upon by the Government as a piece of anti-foreign agitation-a Jingo movement-and as endangering the success of the treatyrevision negotiations. In fact, the revised treaty with Great Britain was on the latter date well-nigh completed, it being signed in July following by Lord Kimberley and Viscount Aoki. It was at this stage that the scepticism of foreign observers as to the final success of representative institutions in Japan seemed to reach its height, leading many of them to the belief that the Constitution would have to be sooner or later suspended, if Japan was to enjoy a wise and peaceful administration. When the first violent collision took place, they said it was perhaps to be expected since the Government was then under the Premiership of Count Matsukata, and in the hands of secondrate politicians. Marquis Ito and some of the most tried statesmen of the time were out of office, forming a sort of reserve force, to be called out at any grave emergency. But great was the disappointment when it was seen that after Marquis Ito, with some of the most trusted statesmen as his colleagues, had been in office but little over a year, dissolution followed dissolution, and it seemed that even the Father of the Constitution was unable to manage its successful working. What an anonymous contributor in the Contemporary Review, writing soon after the war, says on the "Japanese Constitutional Crisis and the War," probably well expresses the sentiment of the more intelligent class of foreign observHe says:

ers.

"In the beginning of July of last year Japan presented the spectacle of a house completely divided against itself. Some of the best friends of the country, and some of

35

the most intelligent among her citizens [the italics are mine]-men, too, who had welcomed the advent of representative institutions with enthusiasm were anxiously and moodily discussing the advisability of the suspension of the Constitution and a reversion to the time-honored régime of despotism tempered by assassination, to which the nation had been so long accustomed."

I must take exception to the part italicized. Most probably the writer's observation on that point was somewhat colored by his own prejudices and misgivings. At any rate, however, there is no question that the Constitutional situation was at that time exceedingly

critical. But when the war broke out

the situation was completely changed. In the August following the whole nation spoke and acted as if they were one man and had but one mind. In the two sessions of the Diet held during the war the Government was most ably supported by the Diet, and everybody hoped that after the war was over the same good feeling would continue to rule the Diet. On the other hand, it was well known that the Opposition members in the Diet had clearly intimated that their support of the Government was merely temporary, and that after the emergency was over they might be expected to continue their opposition policy. Sure enough, many months before the opening of the ninth session, mutterings of deep discontent, especially

with reference to the retrocession of the

Liaotung peninsula, began to be widely heard, and it was much feared that the former scenes of fierce opposition and blind obstruction would be renewed. However, as the session approached (December, 1896) rumors were heard of a certain entente between the Government and the Liberal party, at that time the largest and the best organized in the country. And in the coming session the Government secured a majority, through the support of the Liberals, for most of its important bills.

Now this entente between Marquis Ito and the Liberals was a great step in advance in the constitutional history of the country, and a very bold departure in a new direction on the part of the Marquis. He was known to be an admirer of the German system, and a chief upholder of the policy of Chozen

Naikaku, or the Transcendental Cabinet policy, which meant a Ministry responsible to the Emperor alone. Marquis Ito saw evidently at this stage the impossibility of carrying on the Government without a secure parliamentary support, and Count Itagaki, the Liberal leader, saw in the Marquis a faithful ally, whose character as a great constructive statesman, and whose history as the author of the Constitution, both forbade his ever proving disloyal to the Constitution. The entente was cemented in May following by the entrance of Count Itagaki into the Cabinet as the Home Minister. On the other hand, this entente led to the formation of the Progressist party by the union of the six Opposition parties, as well as to the union of Count Okuma, the Progressist leader, and Count Matsugata, leader of the Kagoshima states

men.

Their united opposition was now quite effective in harassing the administration. At this stage certain neutral men, particularly Count Inouye, suggested compromise, offering a scheme of a Coalition Cabinet. There were men, too, in the cabinet who favored such a course, and the scheme almost approached realization. But Count Itagaki was firm in opposing such a compromise, saying it was tantamount to the ignoring of party distinction, and as such was a retrogression instead of being a forward step in the constitutional history of the country. He finally tendered his resignation. When Marquis Ito saw that the Count was firm in his determination, he, too, resigned, saying that he felt so deeply obliged to the Liberals for their late parliamentary support that he would not let the Count go out of office alone. Thus fell the Ito Ministry after five years' brilliant service.

The new Cabinet formed in September, 1896, had Count Matsukata for Premier and Treasury Minister; Count Okuma for Foreign Minister; and Admiral Kabayama, the hero of the Yaloo battle, for Home Minister. There were at this time three things that the nation desired. It wanted to be saved from the impending business depression. It wished to see Japanese Chau

vinism installed at the Foreign Office, and the shame of the retrocession of the Liaotung peninsula wiped off. It hoped, lastly, to see a Parliamentary Government inaugurated and all the evils of irresponsible bureaucracy removed. The statesmen now installed in office aspired to satisfy all these desires, and they were expected to work wonders. But, unfortunately, the Cabinet lacked unity. The Satsuma elements and the Okuma elements no more mixed together than oil and water. In their counsels there were always two wills, sometimes three, contending for mastery. The question of the balance of power between these elements was always cropping up in connection with all questions of State policy. Able as some of those statesmen were, it was owing mainly to their intestine quarrels. that the Ministry proved a failure. Before a year was out the nation was disappointed. Early in the fall Count Okuma resigned office, saying that he felt like a European physician in consultation over a case with Chinese doctors. Henceforth the ship of State, now in troubled waters, was entirely in the hands of the Kagoshima statesmen and their friends. Some heroic and extraordinary efforts were made to revive the fallen credit of the administration —but all in vain. Count Okuma led away the majority of the Progressist party, and the Government was left with but an insignificant number of supporters. As soon as the Diet met, the spirit of opposition manifested was so strong that the Ministers asked the Emperor to issue an edict for dissolution. It was expected that the Government would at once appeal to the country with some strong programme. But to the astonishment of everybody the Ministry resigned the very next day.

In the midst of the general confusion which followed, Marquis Ito's name was in the mouth of everybody. He was unanimously hailed as the only man to bring order into the political situation. In January following, the new Cabinet was announced with Ito for Premier, Count Inouye for the Treasury, and Marquis Saionji, one of the best cultured, most progressive, and, perhaps,

also most daring of the younger statesmen, for Education Minister. The general election took place in March, and the twelfth session of the Diet was opened on May 19. The session is now in progress and will be short, being the extraordinary session after the dissolution. A Bill on the revision of the electoral laws is now laid before the Diet. It reduces the property qualification of the electors by about two-thirds, making it five yen of land-tax or three yen of income-tax; abolishes it altogether in the case of the candidates for election, and increases the number of representatives to some 470 from 300 as it is now. This Bill, when passed, as it doubtless will be, will have a very far-reaching influence in the progress of the constitutional régime.

a

How far Marquis Ito feels it expedient to go in the line of rapprochement with political parties it is difficult to forecast. There exists doubtless tacit understanding between him and his former friends the Liberals and the National Unionists. The parties themselves would doubtless wish the relation made more explicit, while he would rather have it remain as it is, at least for the time being. Evidently he does not feel that the condition of political parties warrants him in throwing himself with open arms into their fellowship, and they, on their part, seem to be quite restive and impatient of his reserves. The courtship has now lasted for some years, yet the expected wedding has not yet taken place, and no public announcement has been made even of the engagement.

Yet doubtless there has been considerable constitutional progress since the war. A few things may be set down, in the light of what has been said, as legitimate inferences. In the first place it may be with safety predicted that no Cabinet will henceforth dare to remain in office if after one dissolution of the Diet its unpopularity is confirmed. It may be also inferred that the Clan bureaucracy is now in the last stage of its history, and that its merging itself in the larger unified life of the nation is not very far off. The great contention hitherto of the Opposition

leaders that the Government represented the Clan interests and they the national has now largely lost its ground, and henceforth parliamentary strife will take place on some other ground than that of Clanism versus the National Interests. Besides, the great era of industrial expansion into which Japan is fiercely plunging will create problems of a more practical kind, whose urgent claims will increasingly absorb the attention of politicians. Party politics and "heroic" questions will give place to the economic. Necessity and experience both will teach the Japanese the value of compromise . and conciliation. Most probably, therefore, the party politics of the coming years will be tempered more and more with reason and moderation.

The great trouble with the political parties of to-day is the lack of discipline and the imperfection of organization. They need much sound training, and they need intelligent leaders. Ex

cepting Count Okuma, there are but few real party leaders. Yet the signs of improvement are visible on all sides. Many politicians of influence who hitherto have kept out of parties are said to be now thinking of enrolling themselves as members of the different parties. Time is a factor impossible to ignore. We must remember that the Japanese Diet is but eight years old, and no political party is more than twenty years old. Yet in Japan things move with astonishing rapidity. And the change from a Transcendental Cabinet to one in which the Ministers are avowedly or tacitly responsible to the majority in the Diet will take place sooner than many think. At any rate, it does not seem to be wide of the mark to suppose that before another generation passes away Japan will feel as easy and natural under constitutional government as France or Germany does today.-Contemporary Review.

secrets,

To those perched in the Lady's Gallery of the House of Commons much is visible. From them few secrets, whether of the head or of the heart, can be concealed Beneath their searching gaze every bench lies open, every Member of the House has to run the gauntlet of their observation, and only one figure (that of the Speaker) is for them a veiled mystery. To their ears his rulings rise with a sound of indistinct and awful muttering, enhancing the sense of power possessed by this unseen deity. Under the gaze of their unpitying eyes are all the elaborate and nervous preparations of the would-be speakers. They see the strained and ungraceful attitudes assumed by those aspiring, despairing, and perspiring to catch the Speaker's eye. The notes lie revealed beneath them as an open letter. They can see whether the speech is written out in full, typed, or even printed; for this last perfection of de

tail they know where to look on the Government bench of to-day. Theirs it is to overlook the eager scribbling of the rank and file, each mistaken individual possessed with the insane idea that the House wishes to hear his answer to the debatable points at issue. They can tell with precision, even as though the speaker's mind were revealed to their second sight, which Member will not be called upon to follow in the debate, usually that one whose notes are most voluminous, and whose zeal in taking them has been noted by the Speaker as well as by those in the eyrie, and they know to a nicety whether the Member who rises will make the dry bones live or send the Members through the doors of the House a shuffling, huddled crowd of speech-ridden runaways.

Their eyes have seen what no wellconducted Member has ever looked upon, the House cleared for a division.

the Sergeant-at-Arms standing in the gangway, his face heedfully turned toward the Speaker's chair, watching the exact moment at which to give the signal, and himself unlock the Lobby door.

The doubtful privilege has been theirs to see all the scenes, dignified and undignified, of free fights and suspensions; theirs to hear the words addressed to recalcitrant Members from the Speaker's chair and the Chairman's corner of the table. Theirs to watch the scurrying in of Members, all their school-boy instincts aroused by the rumor that their colleagues are in disgrace and about to be suspended.

And when divisions are pending and fateful, they know all the signs of the night. The bat-like flittings of the Whips from the Front Bench to the Lobbies. The consultations between them and the leaders as to the application of the closure, the investigating expedition to the Lobby, with the negative or affirmative shake of the head on the return. They know the look of prideful peace on the face of the chief Whip when he is conscious of a bloated majority within the walls of the House; and as it streams through the Division Lobbies, at the close of the sitting, if the night is wet, they are privileged to see the graceful jog-trot and canter of the eloping Members, each desirous of securing one of the limited number of hackney carriages awaiting their rising.

But if it is theirs to scan with sacrilegious eye the frailties and foibles of the human legislators beneath them, to view the vainglory and pomposity of the average Member, to agonize with the House when the fool, the dullard, and the bore is in possession of the floor, to shrink with sympathetic and expectant terror when the man "who knows his subject " prepares to address an audience who have not the least desire to benefit by his expert learning; if it is theirs to endure and share with the House in these, its dull afflictions, it is also theirs to note the day when the battle is set in array, the champions are worthy of their cause, and, when the rank and file "locks its ranks

and greets its leaders with that indescribable sound whose note is only borne on the night when they have a conviction that their side means to fight, that the onslaught will be fierce, and the defence assured and triumphant.

Are these days on the wane? Are the hosts less well marshalled, the leader's trumpets blowing with uncertain sound, their speeches uttered with a stammering tongue? Is that generation of men, whom the House and the country should be looking for on the back benches above and below the gangway as their future leaders, conspicuous by their absence? Is the debating on a lower level, has eloquence departed, is the general taste debased, and the average standard of speaking unusually poor? All these questions are asked and debated in those dark shades behind the brazen grille.

And such questions are necessarily asked where, within the bird's-eye view of an observing generation, such complete changes have revolutionized the Members and all Parliamentary methods.

Within the last twenty years, almost the lowest depth of enfranchisement has been reached. "Set the feet above the brain and swear the brain is in the feet" and "the suffrage of the plough," has, as a rule, chosen for its representatives the dull mediocrity of the middleclasses. Within that period the gag and the twelve o'clock rule have been invented a bit and trammel warranted to break the courage of the wildest and to tame the fire of the most unbroken colt.

That score of years holds the history of the strongest Party ever returned to Parliament, a Party created and led by the greatest Parliamentary genius the walls of this House of Commons has ever had standing on its floor. It has witnessed this Leader shattering the work of his own stupendous personality by proposals which, on the one hand, rent from him the flower and strength of his cohorts, and, on the other, imported into the Parliamentary debates the threats and predictions of the country of all the horrors of civil war. The generation that knew the House