It is seldom that a constitutional change, like that which deprived the House of Lords of powers exercised for a thousand years, has been made without an appeal to arms.  But there was no civil war.  Perhaps the old fashion of sturdy blows would have been less trying to the temper.

A revolution is at the best an unmannerly proceeding.  It cannot be carried on politely, because it involves not so much a change of ideas and methods as a change of masters.  A change of ideas may be discussed in an amiable and orderly way.  The honorable gentlemen who have the responsibility for the decision are respectfully asked to revise their opinions in the light of new evidence which, by their leave, will be presented.

But a change of masters cannot be managed so inoffensively.  The honorable gentlemen are not asked to revise their opinions.  They are told that their opinions are no longer important.  The matter is severely personal.  The statement is not, “We do not believe in your ideas”; it is, “We do not believe in you.”

When political discussion takes this turn, then there is an end to the amenities suited to a more quiet time.  It is no longer a question as to which is the better cause, but as to which is the better man.

Mr. Asquith, who has retained in this revolutionary period the manners of the old school, recently said in his reply to a delegation of his opponents, “When people are on opposite sides of a chasm they may be courteous to one another, and regret the impossibility of their shaking hands, or doing more than wave a courteous gesture across so wide a space.”

These are the words of a gentleman in politics, and express a beautiful ideal.  But they hardly describe the present situation.  As to waving a courteous salutation to the people on the other side,—­that depends on who the people are.  If you know them and have been long familiar with their good qualities, the courteous salutation is natural.  They are, as you know, much better than their opinions.

But it is different when they are people whom you do not know, and with whom you have nothing in common.  You suspect their motives, and feel a contempt for their abilities.  They are not of your set.  The word “gentleman” is derived from the word gens.  People of the same gens learn to treat each other in a considerate way.  Even when they differ they remember what is due to gentle blood and gentle training.

It is quite evident that the challenge of the new democracy to the old ruling classes has everywhere produced exasperation.  It is no longer easy to wave courteous salutations across the chasms which divide parties.  Political discussion takes a rude turn.  It is no longer possible to preserve the proprieties.  We may expect the minor moralities to suffer while the major moralities are being determined by hard knocks.

Good manners depend on the tacit understanding of all parties as to their relations to one another.  Nothing can be more brutal than for one to claim superiority, or more rude than for another to dispute the claim.  Such differences of station should, if they exist, be taken for granted.