than they had been under the most domineering of the warlike Plantagenets. Henry VIII. did not hesitate to appear in person at the critical debates of his "faithful Commons," and his most patriotic counsellors were compelled to choose between carrying out his designs or losing their places or their heads. But even the Tudors, in the plenitude of popularity and power, never pushed personal interference beyond a certain point. They kept touch with the feelings of a formidable popular Opposition, and they had the quick political tact in which Charles I. was lamentably lacking. The measures of the Long Parliament more than vindicated the independence of its members. With the exception of the Bill of Rights, the Revolution Settlement rather concerned itself with securing stronger guarantees than with introducing essential changes.

In fact, down to the short reign of William IV., the development of the Constitution had been gradual and tentative. The constitutional system had worked so well on the whole, that the people were fairly satisfied. The dullest could see that, in spite of excessive drains for war expenditure, the country had been rapidly advancing in prosperity; while the wars which increased taxation and ran up the price of bread had greatly enriched influential classes. The farmers, selling their grain at almost fabulous prices, made for

tunes, notwithstanding the rise in rents. The manufacturers profited by Protection, and the mills and factories were frequently busy, notwithstanding the "Orders in Council" and the closing of the Continental ports. The general impoverishment and distress which succeeded to that period of forced and fictitious prosperity set the mind of the nation seething. The burdensome war debts remained, but the tax-paying powers of the population were grievously diminished. The farmers who had habituated themselves to more luxurious ways of living had still to pay the higher rents, although wheat and stock had been falling. Yet the Corn-laws kept up the price of the loaf, while wages had been diminishing towards starvation-point both in the manufacturing and agricultural districts. Men who would willingly have worked were thrown out of employment, while the many who were naturally indolent or vicious took kindly to beggary or crime. Yet all the time the nation had been somewhat advancing in education, and ignorance was just sufficiently enlightened to lend a ready ear to plausible oratory. Then came the natural consequences, for better or worse. The suffering was obvious. There were class grievances, real and imaginary, to be redressed; and the field was thrown open to largeminded reformers, as to agitators of all sorts,

with their infallible specifics. Some of these reformers were clear-sighted statesmen who saw into futurity, and sought to anticipate demands that were just and inevitable. Not a few were unscrupulous knaves and self-seekers, who advocated claims that were absurd or outrageous, and threw oil upon the fire for their selfish purposes. In any case, the times were ripe for sweeping and almost subversive changes; and in the irony of history the political revolution began in the reign of a good-humoured monarch who was indifferent as Gallio to all these things, till he began to realise and resent encroachments on his royal prerogative. The shock to the vested interests of the moneyed classes was rude, but perhaps it was the conscientious and well-meaning King who suffered most keenly in the envenomed Reform struggle.

When the King came to the throne, notwithstanding those chronic convulsions among the lower orders which had been aggravated by exceptional circumstances, everything seemed to Conservatives to be for the best, on the whole, in the best of practicable worlds. The Crown, the Court, the landed aristocracy, and the commercial capitalists had good reason to be satisfied. They returned the representatives who governed the country, and could rely on commanding majorities upon all the questions which

affected them. At the same time, whether they acted on personal or public grounds, it cannot be said that they deliberately abused their power. Though England might submit to the rule of a "Venetian oligarchy," public opinion had always asserted its rights, and the voice of the people had made itself heard under essentially aristocratic administration. Parliamentary leaders were in the habit, like the Tudors, of keeping a finger on the popular pulse; and if they neglected or misconstrued the symptoms, they had invariably cause for regret. The difference now was that their hands were forced, and with a suddenness that came as a surprise. Not that the question of Parliamentary Reform was a new one it had been taken up by the elder and the younger Pitt; but hitherto it had been speculatively debated and lightly dismissed, since there was but slight pressure on the Houses of Parliament. By this time, however, popular discontent had been gathering and fermenting. What was more important, it had found definite and eloquent expression through men like Lords Grey and Althorp, who were grave and experienced politicians, whose station was as high as their patriotism was unimpeachable. Even such great borough-holders as Lords Fitz-William and Darlington had been converted. The Tories might differ from them widely, but they could not

denounce them as revolutionists. The old Whigs were placing themselves at the head of the new Radicals, with the determination of settling the question they had raised, and with the resolution of directing a movement that might become dangerous. Thenceforward a thoroughgoing Reform Bill had become inevitable: it was but a question, first of the time, and secondly, of the settlement of its limits; while a power that had been springing up between the people and their socalled representatives threw its formidable influence into the scales with the reformers. A free press had been growing up with the spread of free speech; and while agitators were "orating" on hundreds of provincial platforms, no fewer than ten out of the thirteen metropolitan papers reported their speeches at length, and backed up their arguments in leaders.

There can be no question that with the passing of the first Reform Bill the political pendulum swung towards its centre of gravity. The great middle class, which had been rapidly increasing in wealth, intelligence, and numbers, had hitherto had no fair share in the national representation. Men who largely contributed to the taxes had small concern in voting them; while it was matter of even more importance that they had as little to say on the imposts which affected their business. Great manufac

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