more or less in connection with, and therefore may be influenced by, the government of the day, and hence have in some cases excluded, and in others indirectly diminished, the authority of the law Courts. This tendency to diminish the sphere of the rule of law is shown, for instance, in the judicial powers conferred upon the Education Commissioners by the Education Act, 1902,47 on various officials by the National Insurance Acts, 1911 and 1913,48 and on the Commissioners of Inland Revenue and other officials by the Finance Act, 1910.49 It is also shown by the Parliament Act, 1911, s. 3, which enacts that “any certificate of the Speaker of the House of Commons given under this Act shall be conclusive for all purposes and shall not be questioned in any Court of law.” This enactment, if strictly construed, would protect any Speaker who, either from partisanship or to promote some personal interest of his own, signed a certificate which was notoriously false from being liable to punishment by any Court of law whatever.50 No doubt the House of Commons has been historically jealous of any judicial interference with persons acting under the authority of the House, and has on more than one occasion claimed in a sense to be above the law of the land. All that can be said is that such claims have rarely been of advantage or credit to the House, and that the present time is hardly the proper season for the curtailment by the House of legitimate judicial power. It must, however, in fairness be noted that the invasion of the rule of law by imposing judicial functions upon officials is due, in part, to the whole current of legislative opinion in favour of extending the sphere of the State’s authority. The inevitable result of thus immensely increasing
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the duties of the Government is that State officials must more and more undertake to manage a mass of public business, e.g., to give one example only, the public education of the majority of the citizens. But Courts are from the nature of things unsuited for the transaction of business. The primary duty of a judge is to act in accordance with the strict rules of law. He must shun, above all things, any injustice to individuals. The well-worn and often absurdly misapplied adage that “it is better that ten criminals should escape conviction than that one innocent man should without cause be found guilty of crime” does after all remind us that the first duty of a judge is not to punish crime but to punish it without doing injustice. A man of business, whether employed by a private firm or working in a public office, must make it his main object to see that the business in which he is concerned is efficiently carried out. He could not do this if tied down by the rules which rightly check the action of a judge. The official must act on evidence which, though strong, may not be at all conclusive. The official must often act with severity towards subordinates whose stupidity, and not their voluntary wrong-doing, gives cause for dismissal. A judge, on the other hand, is far more concerned with seeing that the law is strictly carried out than in showing consideration to individuals. “That hard cases make bad law” is proverbial; the transaction of business, in short, is a very different thing from the giving of judgments: The more multifarious therefore become the affairs handed over to the management of civil servants the greater will be always the temptation, and often the necessity, extending to the discretionary powers given to officials, and thus preventing law Courts from intervening in matters not suited for legal decision.
Distrust of Judges and of Courts
If the House of Commons deliberately excludes the intervention of any law Court in matters which the House may deem (with very dubious truth) to concern the House alone, we can scarcely wonder that artisans should have no love for judicial decisions. In plain truth, while every man of at all respectable instincts desires what he considers justice for himself and for the class to which he belongs, almost all men desire something more than, and different from, justice for
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themselves and against their neighbours. This is inevitably the case with persons such as the members of trade unions, who are trying, with a good deal of success, to enforce trade rules which often arouse the censure of the public, and sometimes come into absolute conflict with the law of the land. The blackleg may be, and one may suspect often is, a mean fellow who, to put money into his own pocket, breaks rules which his fellow-workers hold to be just and beneficial to the trade generally. He, for example, has no objection, if properly paid for it, to work with men who are not members of any union. The blackleg, however, all but invariably keeps within the law of the land, and proposes to do nothing which violates any principle established by common law or any enactment to be found in the Statute Book. The trade unionists whom he offends know perfectly well that the blackleg is in the eye of the law no wrong-doer; they therefore feel that the Courts are his protectors, and that, somehow or other, trade unions must be protected against the intervention of judges. Hence the invention of that self-contradictory idea of “peaceful picketing,” which is no more capable of real existence than would be “peaceful war” or “unoppressive oppression”; hence, too, that triumph of legalised wrong-doing sanctioned by the fourth section of the Trade Disputes Act,51 1906. It is however by no means to be supposed that artisans are the only class accustomed to decry a judge or the legislature when the one gives a judgment or the other passes a law opposed to the moral convictions of a particular part of the community.
Lawlessness
Till a time well within the memory of persons now living, it would have been very difficult to find any body of men or women who did not admit that, broadly speaking, a breach of the law of the land was also an act of immorality. No doubt at all times there have existed, as at the present day, a large number of habitual law-breakers, but though a cheat, a pickpocket, or a burglar does constantly break the law, there is no reason to surmise that cheats, pickpockets, or burglars maintain the doctrine that law-breaking is itself a praiseworthy
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or a moral act. Within the last thirty years, however, there has grown up in England, and indeed in many other civilised countries, a new doctrine as to lawlessness. This novel phenomenon, which perplexes moralists and statesmen, is that large classes of otherwise respectable persons now hold the belief and act on the conviction that it is not only allowable, but even highly praiseworthy, to break the law of the land if the law-breaker is pursuing some end which to him or to her seems to be just and desirable. This view is not confined to any one class. Many of the English clergy (a class of men well entitled to respect) have themselves shown no great hesitation in thwarting and breaking laws which they held to be opposed to the law of the Church. Passive resisters do not scruple to resist taxes imposed for some object which they condemn. Conscientious objectors are doing a good deal to render ineffective the vaccination laws. The militant suffragettes glorify lawlessness; the nobleness of their aim justifies in their eyes the hopeless and perverse illegality of the means by which they hope to obtain votes for women.
Whence arises this zeal for lawlessness? The following reflections afford an answer, though only a partial answer, to this perplexing inquiry:
In England democratic government has already given votes, if not precisely supreme power, to citizens who, partly because of the fairness and the regularity with which the law has been enforced for generations in Great Britain, hardly perceive the risk and ruin involved in a departure from the rule of law. Democratic sentiment, further, if not democratic principle, demands that law should on the whole correspond with public opinion; but when a large body of citizens not only are opposed to some law but question the moral right of the state to impose or maintain a given law, our honest democrat feels deeply perplexed how to act. He does not know in effect how to deal with lawlessness which is based upon a fundamental difference of public opinion.52 For such difference makes it impossible that on a given topic the law should be in reality in accordance with public opinion. Thus many Englishmen have long felt a moral
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difficulty in resisting the claim of a nationality to become an independent nation, even though the concession of such a demand may threaten the ruin of a powerful state and be opposed to the wishes of the majority
