have become even more acute. "This is called the House of Commons," said Mr. T. Gibson Bowles in 1900, "but it really is in a fair way to become a den of placemen, on account of the successive steps whereby all power is taken, out of the hands of private members, and put into the hands of the Government." There is only too much truth in this strongly worded protest, but the evil is one that the pressure and complexity of public business has made almost inevitable. The private member, in short, is almost helpless in a House where even Cabinet Ministers with a party majority behind them sometimes fail. From the facts which have been noted two conclusions may be drawn. One is, that the House of Commons, which is the vital organ of an Atlas that bears no small part of the globe upon its shoulders, has immense labors to perform; the other is that not merely its habits, its spirit and traditions, but its practice and procedure have been changed much more than a superficial observer would be disposed to allow. It would follow that many of the strictures passed upon it are beside the mark. In a word, the Parliamentary machine is expected to do work which, in all the circumstances of the case, it is impossible that it should perform. To demand of it that it should supervise the administration of the British Empire, and, at the same time, be a Legislature in the Napoleonic sense, is utterly unreasonable. But though the House of Commons is probably quite as good as a chamber as ever it was, there is no reason why it should not improve some parts of its procedure. Greater care might be taken in the arrangement of business; the "digestive faculty" of the Houseto use the quaint phrase of a seventeenth-century speaker-might be better considered. There seems to be no reason why the system of devolution to committees should not be carried further, for, as Mr. Gladstone said, "the real solution of the difficulties of the House is to be found in the principle of the division of labor, the multiplication of the organs by which the House applies itself to and discharges its proper work." Again, unfinished business might well be carried over from one Session to another. It is done in America, and what is practicable there should surely be so here. Then motions for the adjournment of the House might be even more restricted than they are. Nor would it be any great hardship upon the great majority of the Members if some limit were placed upon the length of speeches. There is still too much of "the dreary drip of dilatory declamation;" there are still some Members of whom it may be said, as Carlyle said of Macaulay, that they have "gone all to tongue." In America it is the rule that "no member shall occupy more than one hour in debate on any question in the House or in Committee," and not more than five minutes when the House is in Committee on Appropriation Bills. If a speaker wishes to extend his remarks, he may by unanimous consent obtain leave to have his speech printed in the appendix to the Congressional Records. There is surely something here at least worth consideration. The method of taking divisions, moreover, might be improved; for anyone who is acquainted with the modes of taking divisions in foreign legislative assemblies cannot avoid the conclusion that in the English House of Commons a great deal of time is wasted in exercising in the lobbies. Lastly, with regard to the defects in the form and wording of Bills, something might be done to reduce them to a minimum. Not that the difficulty of the work should be underrated, for it makes the greatest possible demands upon the intellect. "I will venture to affirm," said John Aus tin the jurist, "that what is commonly called the technical part of legislation is incomparably more difficult than what may be called the ethical. In other words, it is far easier to conceive justly what would be useful law than so to construct that same law that it may accomplish the design of the lawgiver." But if Members would only reflect that it is their business to deal with great principles, and that details might be left to the discretion of the Administration, the difficulty would be lessened. A committee of experts for the revision of drafts might also be created. But no rules whatsoever can be of much avail unless the Members of the House are moved by what has been well called the "Parliamentary spirit," Longman's Magazine. and unless they are good "Parliamentmen," as the old phrase ran. The character of those for whose guidance rules are made is of even more importance than the rules themselves. Freedom of speech, wide as the heavens and unfettered as the air, is the very life-breath of the House, but it has to be restricted lest its abuse by a small minority should obstruct the business of the nation. It is a sad reflection that, as Mr. Gladstone once said, the House "becomes year after year more and more the slave of some of the poorest and most insignificant among its members." But that state of things is not so much the fault of the House as of the people who create it. In their hands the remedy in the last resort lies. C. B. Roylance Kent. THE NEW ORDER OF MERIT. The King's new Order of Merit would have attracted more attention if the list had appeared alone, and not at the tail of the honors bestowed at the Coronation. Here, for the first time in the history of Court Usherdom, is an Order which conveys no rank, title, or precedence of any kind. Those who wear it will be addressed precisely as before. They will not even have a fresh set of what the Irish judge called "terminal initials" after their names. Yet it is a very high distinction to have this Order, as a glance at the twelve holders will show. The newest Order is indeed the exact antithesis of the oldest. "I like the Garter," said a duke of the old school. "There's none of that confounded merit about it." This Order is all merit. There is nothing else in it. It was made in Germany. Being a free trader I have no objection to that. But the ardent patriots, if such there be, who drink British wine and smoke British cigars, may complain of its foreign origin. For the Prussian Order of Merit, founded by Frederick the Great soon after his accession in 1740, must certainly be considered the forerunner of this one. That Order, which has maintained from the first a very high standard and reputation, was bestowed in 1874 upon the illustrious biographer of Frederick, Thomas Carlyle. Carlyle, apart from his genius, was a very fitting recipient of the honor; for his sympathies were always German, and his style was quite as much German as English. It must be admitted that an English Order of Merit is not racy of the soil. Englishmen are apt to think that literary or scientific eminence is a thing about which kings and governments know no more than other folk. The two scientific peerages which exist are very modern creations indeed, and Tennyson's is the one example of a pure man of letters raised to the House of Lords as such. Macaulay and Bulwer Lytton had been Cabinet Ministers. Monckton Milnes, before he became Lord Houghton, had sat for many years in the House of Commons. No living son of song has been ennobled. Even the Poet Laureate is still Mr. Austin. There have been many proposals for founding a Literary Academy in England, of which the most famous was Swift's. But they have all foundered on the adamantine individualism of the English people. They don't want to be told how they should write, or even how they shall spell. Challemel Lacour showed a truly British spirit when, after arguing for some time against the introduction of the verb baser into the Dictionary of the French Academy, he said, "Eh bien, s'il entre, je sors." The principle of authority is unpopular in these islands, especially in literature, where everybody thinks that he knows as much as anybody else, and has the inherent right of liking any nonsense he pleases. Matthew Arnold hankered after something like the famous institution of Cardinal Richelieu. But he recognized that it would be impossible. Sooner or later there would be "a flight "" and it of Corinthian leading articles,' would be shown that those within the tabernacle were no better than those without. An Order of Merit, however, is no menace to public or private liberty. With three generals and two admirals, it may be trusted not even to purge the English language of expletives. Carlyle like Mr. Watts, would accept no title, even though Mr. Disraeli in a fit of prodigality offered him the Grand Cross of the Bath. But the most rigid of democrats need not refuse a distinction which does not distinguish by any be the choice of the Sovereign, or the choice of the Minister, or the joint composition of both,, the first appointments to the new Order are thoroughly good. Lord Roberts, Lord Wolseley, and Lord Kitchener are the three most brilliant of living soldiers. Lord Roberts and Lord Kitchener might be called, if one could combine Roman and Jewish ideas, the Jachin and Boaz of the Temple of Janus, now happily closed. Lord Wolseley, as people are apt nowadays to forget, was the pioneer of army reform, the military adviser of that great Minister Mr. Cardwell, and the real author of the Reserve. Lord Rayleigh has discovered a new element in the atmosphere, and has even given it a name. Lord Kelvin is by general consent at the head of British science, and his discoveries have been as practically useful as they were marvellous in their acuteness. For more than half a century he was the ornament of Glasgow University; he made it possible to lay the Atlantic cable, and he corrected the errors which had vitiated the mariner's compass. Lord Lister is President of the Royal Society, and inventor of the antiseptic treatment, which has saved many lives besides the King's. Sir Henry Keppel is the oldest Admiral. In some eyes it might seem more meritorious to be the youngest. But Sir Henry Keppel, who has been an Admiral of the Fleet since 1877, commanded the Naval Brigade in the Crimean War, and is a fine old link with the past. His brother, Lord Albemarle, who has not been long dead, was present at Waterloo. Sir Edward Seymour's services in China are too fresh to have been forgotten by any one. Sir William Huggins is the greatest of living astronomers, and a notable improver of scientific instruments. Without in any way disparaging these great and famous men, one may say that the most interesting men of the twelve are the one artist and the two authors. Official services speak for themselves, and the bulk of mankind, including myself, must always look at the wonders of science with distant awe. But books and pictures bring us all to a level. One subscriber to Mudie's, one frequenter of Burlington House, is as good as another. Mr. Watts, however, is something more than a great artist. He is a poet, who writes poetry with a brush instead of a pen. The mingled simplicity and idealism of his life, his singular munificence, his carelessness of wealth and worldly success, have surrounded him in his old age with a sort of reverence which as a rule is paid only to the dead. He was not a precocious painter, like Leighton and Millais. Throughout the greater part of his life he has been improving. Atall times he had the indefinable quality which is not explained by being called genius. It must have been of him that Tennyson was thinking when he wrote of the artist who Divinely through all hindrance finds the man. The wonderful collection of his portraits in the National Portrait Gallery has no counterpart for the combination of number, variety, and excellence. The Tennyson, the Newman, the Manning, have all been, as they deserve to be, highly praised. For myself, I should prefer to all others the Martineau and the Mill. Dr. Martineau never preached a more eloquent sermon than that portrait will preach for him so long as it endures. Even the famous Essay on Liberty is not more characteristic of the man than Mr. Watts's presentment of Mill, and the Autobiography is far less so. The rugged grandeur of Tennyson's face in old age is singularly impressive on Mr. Watts's canvas; but a smaller artist than Mr. Watts could hardly have failed to catch that. Mr. Watts's allegorical pictures reveal a different set of powers, and either set alone would make him a great artist. If any man be entitled to the epithet "meritorious," it is Mr. Lecky; for no living writer has devoted himself more consistently or more indefatigably to the pursuit of truth. Perfect impårtiality is not attainable by any historian. It involves a knowledge of character and motive which is the exclusive attribute of Him from whom no secrets are hid. But Mr. Lecky's historical as distinguished from his controversial books are honorably marked by a successful determination to understand and to represent both sides of every question. I do not know that a greater compliment than that can be paid to any historian, and I am sure it may be truthfully paid to Mr. Lecky. His great work, the work by which he will live, is his History of England in the Eighteenth Century. Originally undertaken to correct the misstatements of Mr. Froude, a man of genius, who did not know what accuracy meant, it grew into the lucid and perspicuous narrative which is the admiration of all students and the delight of all readers. The last two volumes, which deal with the Act of Union, appeared during the period of acute and vehement agitation between the Home Rule Bill of 1886 and the Home Rule Bill of 1893. Mr. Lecky, though a patriotic Irishman, was a Unionist, and when an Irishman is a Unionist, he is a pretty strong one. But not a trace of partisanship is to be discovered in his account of the great and memorable transactions with which the eighteenth century closed, and from which the United Kingdom emerged. Of course there is no real inconsistency in thinking that though the Act of Union should not then have passed, it should not now be repealed. Fieri non debet, factum valet is a maxim of common sense as well as of common law. Still, it is a great thing, and a fine thing, that an historian should emancipate himself so completely as Mr. Lecky did from the passions and prejudices of the hour. Many of his political friends, though not the wisest of them, were disappointed. They hoped for a party pamphlet, they found a history. Mr. Lecky's book may be compared in other respects with the late Bishop Creighton's wonderful History of the Papacy during the Refor mation. Dr. Creighton's history is, alas! unfinished. When he was appointed Bishop of London it came to an abrupt conclusion. There is, however, more than enough left to show the distinctive quality of his mind. He was able and willing to put himself into the position of the men he described. He did not judge them by the light of subsequent events, which they could not possibly have foreseen. Mr. Lecky had not, in his History of England, to go back so far. Still, the French Revolution is a tremendous break, and the people of the eighteenth century, which really ended in 1789, are in many respects different from ourselves. To take two instances in two succeeding generations, Sir Robert Walpole and Lord North cannot be understood by reference to modern standards of public conduct. Neither of them was personally dishonest. Both of them would have refused a bribe. Yet they never hesitated to bribe others; and while Walpole deliberately drove out of his Cabinet every probable, or even possible rival, North allowed his own excellent understanding to be guided against the interest of the country by the bigoted narrowness of the king. It is easy, and perhaps right, to condemn them. But the true historian must take into consideration when he forms his judgment, the difficulty of manag. ing a House of Commons which did not represent the people, and the fact that George III had still some vestiges of Independent power, which made it highly inconvenient for a Minister to quarrel with him. Mr. Lecky's historical conscience never slumbers. He always endeavors to do justice without fear or favor, without affection or ill-will. There have been many more brilliant historians than Mr. Lecky, none more safe and sound. If his style has in it an element of the commonplace, it is quite free from affectation or obscurity. Gibbon is the only historian who could write notes which are often equal, and sometimes superior, to his text. But Mr. Lecky's notes are full of curious information, admirably collected; and perhaps no author quotes with such invariable felicity. As member for the University of Dublin he has been faithful to his party; as an historian he has laid party aside, and served truth alone. The impartiality of the Order between the two sides of the House of Commons is shown by the juxtaposition of Mr. Lecky and Mr. Morley. If Mr. Morley's name had not been included, it would certainly have been missed, and its absence would have been set down to political influence. The King, since his accession, and before it, has been strictly constitutional in his equal treatment of Tories and Radicals, Liberals and Conservatives. Lord Salisbury has far more respect for intellectual eminence than for the hereditary traditions of his party or his order. Knighthoods and baronetcies, peerages and even Privy-Councillorships, he flings about with contempt. To one applicant, it is said, he expressed his regret that there was "not enough skilly to go round." But the Order of Merit is so far confined to celebrities properly so called. Mr. Morley is the one living Englishman who combines the faculty of moving multitudes by his voice with the wider and more lasting influence exercised by the pen. Macaulay had both gifts, but he became so completely absorbed in |