When we pass from the plane of local to that of national interests we find a state of things which provokes wonder that any shred of democracy has survived it. The system of political parties has its roots in human nature; and we are never likely to outlive it. The quip that we are all born either little Liberals or little Conservatives has beneath it the fact of a profound and perhaps permanent difference of temperament. There are those—and probably will always be—who take less kindly to change than others; and in this difference there will always be ample room and occasion for discussion and criticism. It is also well to remember that the conflict of sincerely held opinion is one of the most fruitful forms of co-operation in the search for truth. But there are few existing lines of party division which reflect a genuine cleavage of conviction. The present opposition of Republican and Democrat in America seems to have only a distant connection with that profound division of opinion in which the opposition first originated. In Great Britain, Liberal and Conservative have stood ideally for the two necessary principles of freedom and order, progress and stability; but the party conflict has raged chiefly in recent times around the question of power. It has been a duel of the “ins” and “outs.” There are, of course, Liberals like Lord Morley, and Conservatives like Lord Hugh Cecil, whose political attachments rest upon deep and reasoned conviction; but reasoned conviction is not the main subject of interest in the Whips’ offices. The final judgment upon the nature of the party struggle is to be sought in the practical business of electioneering. Direct corruption is on the whole rare in democratic countries; but the organisation of the party vote—whether in England or America—is a wholly scandalous and deplorable business. The practice of canvassing for votes, attended frequently with intimidation and generally with a good deal of insincere cajoling, the easily made and easily forgotten electioneering promises, the frantic shepherding of sluggish voters to the polling booth,—these things show how little substance of conviction and thought there is in the modern political game. Canvassing is sometimes defended as a method of political education; occasionally in competent hands it no doubt is so; but anyone who is acquainted with electioneering methods knows that the education is merely incidental to securing the promise of a vote. Canvassing would conceivably serve a useful purpose if the attempt to extract the promise of a vote were declared to be in fact what it is in spirit—a violation of the Ballot Act. It is questionable, however, how long the practice of canvassing would survive this curtailment. And in addition to this, all inducements to drag unwilling and indifferent citizens to the poll should be made illegal. Democracy is not necessarily government by the mob. It is rather government by the