could not work a sum in long division. This was the sort of talent which raised Clifford from obscurity to the head of affairs. To this talent Danby-by birth a simple country gentleman-owed his white staff, his garter, and his dukedom. The encroachment of the power of the Parliament on the power of the crown resembled a fatality, or the operation of some great law of nature. The will of the individual on the throne or of the individuals in the two Houses seemed to go for nothing. The king might be eager to encroach, yet something constantly drove him back. The Parliament might be loyal, even servile, yet something constantly urged them forward.

What then

These things were done in the green tree. was likely to be done in the dry? The Popish Plot and the general election came together, and found a people predisposed to the most violent excitation. The composition of the House of Commons was changed. The legislature was filled with men who leaned to Republicanism in politics, and to Presbyterianism in religion. They no sooner met than they commenced a series of attacks on the government, which, if successful, must have made them supreme in the state.

Where was this to end? To us who have seen the solution, the question presents few difficulties. But to a statesman of the age of Charles II.-to a statesman who wished, without depriving the Parliament of its privileges, to maintain the monarch in his old supremacy-it must have appeared very perplexing.

Clarendon had, when minister, struggled, honestly perhaps, but, as was his wont, obstinately, proudly, and offensively, against the growing power of the Commons. He was for allowing them their old authority, and not one atom more. He would never have claimed for the crown a right to levy taxes from the people, without the consent of Parliament. But when the Parliament, in the first Dutch war, most properly insisted on knowing how it was that the money which they had voted had produced so little effect, and began to inquire through what hands it had passed, and on what services it had been expended, Clarendon considered this as a monstrous innovation. He told the king, as he himself says, "that he could not be too indulgent in the defence of the privileges of Parliament, and that he hoped he would

never violate any of them; but he desired him to be equally solicitous to prevent the excesses in Parliament, and not to suffer them to extend their jurisdiction to cases they have nothing to do with; and that to restrain them within their proper bounds and limits is as necessary as it is to preserve them from being invaded; and that this was such a new encroachment as had no bottom." This is a single instance. Others might easily be given.

The bigotry, the strong passions, the haughty and disdainful temper, which made Clarendon's great abilities a source of almost unmixed evil to himself, and to the public, nad no place in the character of Temple. To Temple, however, as well as to Clarendon, the rapid change which was taking place in the real working of the constitution gave great disquiet; particularly as he had never sat in the English Parliament, and therefore regarded it with none of the predilection which men naturally feel for a body to which they belong, and for a theatre on which their own talents have been advantageously displayed.

To wrest by force from the House of Commons its newly acquired powers was impossible; nor was Temple a man to recommend such a stroke, even if it had been possible. But was it possible that the House of Commons might be induced to let those powers drop-that, as a great revolution had been effected without any change in the outward form of the government, so a great counter revolution might be effected in the same manner-that the crown and the Parliament might be placed in nearly the same relative position in which they had stood in the reign of Elizabeth, and this might be done without one sword drawn, without one execution, and with the general acquiescence of the nation?

The

The English people-it was probably thus that Temple. argued will not bear to be governed by the unchecked power of the sovereign, nor ought they to be so governed. At present there is no check but the Parliament. limits which separate the power of checking those who govern, from the power of governing, are not easily to be defined. The Parliament, therefore, supported by the nation, is rapidly drawing to itself all the powers of government. If it were possible to frame some other check on the power of the crown, some check which might be less galling to the sovereign than that by which he is now constantly torment

ed, and yet which might appear to the people to be a tolerable security against maladministration, Parliaments would probably meddle less; and they would be less supported by public opinion in their meddling. That the king's hands may not be rudely tied by others, he must consent to tie them lightly himself. That the executive administration may not be unsurped by the checking body, something of the character of a checking body must be given to the body which conducts the executive administration. The Parliament is now arrogating to itself every day a larger share of the functions of the Privy Council. We must stop the evil by giving to the Privy Council something of the constitution of a Parliament. Let the nation see that all the king's measures are directed by a cabinet composed of representatives of every order in the state-by a cabinet which contains, not placemen alone, but independent and popular noblemen and gentlemen who have large estates and no salaries, and who are not likely to sacrifice the public welfare, in which they have a deep stake, and the credit which they have attained with the country, to the pleasure of a court from which they receive nothing. When the ordinary administration is in such hands as these, the people will be quite content to see the Parliament become what it formerly was --an extraordinary check. They will be quite willing that the House of Commons should meet only once in three years for a short session, and should take as little part in matters of state as they did a hundred years ago.

Thus we believe that Temple reasoned: for on this hypothesis his scheme is intelligible; and on any other hypothesis appears to us, as it does to Mr. Courtenay, exceedingly absurd and unmeaning. This Council was strictly what Barillon called it-an assembly of states. There are the representatives of all the great sections of the community of the Church, of the Law, of the Peerage, of the Commons. The exclusion of one-half of the councillors from office under the crown-an exclusion which is quite absurd when we consider the Council merely as an executive board becomes at once perfectly reasonable when we con sider the Council as a body intended to restrain the crown, as well as to exercise the powers of the crown-to performi some of the functions of a Parliament, as well as the func tions of a cabinet. We see, too, why Temple dwelt so much

on the private wealth of the members-why he instituted a comparison between their united income and the united in comes of the members of the House of Commons. Such a parallel would have been idle in the case of a mere cabinet. It is extremely significant in the case of a body intended to supersede the House of Commons in some very important functions.

We can hardly help thinking that the notion of this Parliament on a small scale was suggested to Temple by what he had himself seen in the United Provinces. The original Assembly of the States-General consisted, as he tells us, of above eight hundred persons. But this great body was represented by a smaller council of about thirty, which bore the name and exercised the powers of the States-General. At last the real States altogether ceased to meet, and their power, though still a part of the theory of the constitution, became obsolete in practice. We do not, of course, imagine that Temple either expected or wished that Parliaments should be thus disused; but he did expect, we think, that something like what had happened in Holland would happen in England, and that a large portion of the functions lately assumed by Parliament would be quietly transferred to the miniature Parliament which he proposed to create.

It

Had this plan. with some modifications, been tried at an earlier period, in a more composed state of the public mind, and by a better sovereign, we are by no means certain that it would not have effected the purpose for which it was designed. The restraint imposed on the king by the Council of Thirty, whom he had himself chosen, would have beer feeble indeed when compared with the restraint imposed by Parliament. But it would have been more constant. would have acted every year, and all the year round; and before the Revolution the sessions of Parliament were short and the recesses long. The advice of the Council would probably have prevented any very monstrous and scandalous measures; and would consequently have prevented the discontents which followed such measures, and the salutary laws which are the fruits of such discontents. We believe, for example, that the second Dutch war would never have been approved by such a Council as that which Temple proposed We are quite certain that the shutting up of the Exchequer would never even have been mentioned in such a Council.

The people, pleased to think that Lord Russell, Lord Cavendish, and Mr. Powle, unplaced and unpensioned, were daily representing their grievances, and defending their rights in the royal presence, would not have pined quite so much for the meeting of Parliaments. The Parliament, when it met, would have found fewer and less glaring abuses to attack There would have been less misgovernment and less reform. We should not have been cursed with the Cabal, or blessed with the Habeas Corpus Act. In the mean time, the Council would, unless some at least of its powers had been delegated to a smaller body, have been feeble, dilatory, divided, unfit for everything which requires secrecy and despatch, and peculiarly unfit for the administration of war.

The Revolution put an end, in a very different way, to the long contest between the king and the Parliament. From that time, the House of Commons has been predominant in the state. The cabinet has really been, from that time, a committee nominated by the crown out of the prevailing party in Parliament. Though the minority in the Commons are constantly proposing to condemn executive measures, or call for papers which may enable the House to sit in judgment on such measures, these propositions are scarcely ever carried; and if a proposition of this kind is carried against the government, a change of Ministry almost necessarily follows. Growing and struggling power always gives more annoyance and is more unmanageable than established power. The House of Commons gave infinitely more trouble to the ministers of Charles II. than to any minister of later times; for, in the time of Charles II. the House was checking ministers in whom it did not confide. Now that its ascendency is fully established, it either confides in ministers or turns them out. This is undoubtedly a far better state of things than that which Temple wished to introduce. The modern cabinet is a far better Executive Council than his. The worst House of Commons that has sat since the Revolution was a far more efficient check on misgovernment than his fifteen independent councillors would have been. Yet, everything considered, it seems to us that his plan was the work of an observant, ingenious, and fertile mind.

On this occasion, as on every occasion on which he came prominently forward, Temple had the rare good fortune to please the public as well as the sovereign. The general ex