heaven." No one handles Scripture more reverently; none with better effect; because it is not as a weapon against opponents, but as armour of proof.

It is very cheering too, setting the religious question apart, to read a book in which the writer has the courage to say that " by living a great deal among people more or less commonplace and vulgar," he "has come to the conclusion that human nature is lovable"-and has the ability to maintain his thesis. He does not conceal or palliate the weaknesses of humanity; there is no attempt to paint rural life as an Arcadia of innocence; we have Hetty's silly vanity, and young Donnithorne's weakness of principle, and Lisbeth's petulance, all truthfully set before us; and even Adam, the hero, has quite enough of his old namesake about him to be far from perfect; yet we part from all of them at last with an honest sympathy, or, at the worst, a mild and tearful pity. It is encouraging, as it is unfortunately rare, in fiction, to find ourselves watching the operations of a skilful anatomist, as he lays bare the secrets of our quivering frame, and to feel that the hand is not only sure and steady, but gentle as a woman's. It is pleasant to find, combined with all the power of the satirist, the kindly warmth of human charity, and to mark the light which

it throws upon human failings; not concealing them, but softening the harsher outlines, mellowing the glaring tones, and bringing out beauties of which we were before unconscious. We have here no morbid dwelling upon evil, nor yet an unreal optimism which dresses out life in hues of rosecolour; but a hearty manly sympathy with weakness, not inconsistent with a hatred of vice. The "common, coarse people" shame us sometimes, as they do in actual life, by the delicacy of their moral organisation; the outwardly gentle and refined shame us no less by their coarse selfishness. It is no small praise to Mr Eliot, that he has described to us the attractions of sense without allowing them to influence our judgment. The one character which, in the hands of many writers, would have been invested with a dangerous interest, awakens in us only a pity nearer to contempt than love. In sportive phrase, as well as in words of graver warning, we are reminded that "there is no direct correlation between eyelashes and morals;" and without having been consciously subjected to any severe schooling, we are dismissed with a very lively impression that self-restraint is better than repentance, and that, do what we will, "evil can never bear the fruit of good."

WRITING, as we are compelled to do, when the ministerial measure of Parliamentary Reform is still under discussion of the House of Commons in a preliminary stage-when the motion for the second reading of the Bill has been met by Lord John Russell by an amendment which, if carried, may prove fatal to its further progress-we can give a short space only to the consideration of a question with regard to which the public at large has manifested unusual indifference. No doubt for the last week or two-nay, even since the disclosure of the ministerial plan-there have been evidences of that anxiety and restlessness which are the natural symptoms of every political crisis. At no time are administrative changes on a great scale regarded with favour by the mass of the people, and least of all when, as a probable consequence, they infer a dissolution of Parliament, and that confusion and interruption to business which are inseparable from a general election. Beyond the limited circle of official expectants and aspirants, whose personal interests are identified with the success or failure of their party, very little enthusiasm is excited by such a prospect; nor, without an adequate cause, does the British public, in the true sense of the term, incline to be demonstrative or vociferous against the ruling Government of the day. There is, indeed, a vast substratum of conservative and anti-revolutionary feeling throughout the nation, expressed nowhere better than in the Book of Common Prayer, that " we may be godly and quietly governed;" and even Milton, though living in times which to us appear distracted and convulsed, has emphatically described the English as a nation not prone to change. Apathetic certainly they are not; for whenever they consider their rights invaded, their real interests assailed, or their.national honour at stake, they give forth no uncertain sound. The illegal exaction of ship-money, coupled with the shameful perversion of the law and

open violation of justice on the part of venal and unscrupulous judges, brought on the Great Rebellion; and in our own day, and very recently, we have seen two successive governments displaced; the one, because it was accused, rightfully or wrongfully, of having neglected its administrative duties in the time of war; and the other, because it had not shown itself a jealous and efficient guardian of the public honour.

Eight years have now gone by since Lord John Russell-then profanely termed "Finality Jack” by the advanced Radicals, on account of his famous declaration that the measure which he had inaugurated in 1832 was in all respects perfect and final-was pleased, without the usual formality of consulting his colleagues, to pledge himself to a further measure of reform. We have not leisure now to investigate the motives of that extraordinary announcement, which spread fear and dismay among his fellow-occupants of the Treasury benches, and which ultimately degraded him from the high position of leader of the great Whig party-we refer to it merely as the first authoritative declaration on the part of an eminent statesman, holding the highest official position, that a new Reform Bill was necessary in order to meet the political wants, and, we must suppose, the requirements of the people. Such a spark, elicited from a man who considered himself a kind of Brutus, should at any rate have inflamed the gunpowder lying around, if any such there were. But it was innocuous as a flash of summer lightning, though not so beautiful, or so free from unpleasant odour. Then came his own Bill--a complete and admitted failure, whereat he wept. Lost though sacred tears, preserved in no bottle-the issue, as some vulgar souls suggested, rather of spiteful and disappointed rancour, than of high unappreciated patriotism. Twice did he attempt to throw the stain of illegitimacy on his elder offspring, and twice he was defeated or

baulked. His own party repudiated him; the Radicals denied him; and the Conservatives refused to take their bearings from such an eccentric and wind-defying weathercock. . But in a constitution balanced and regulated like ours, a very slight derangement may lead to serious results. A sentiment or an opinion, even though rashly uttered by a leading statesman, cannot be recalled, and never is entirely forgotten. Men do not examine too curiously into the actual motives of the utterer. They have a general and generous faith in the integrity of persons high in office; they believe that no important changes of policy will be announced, without an entire conviction in the mind of the statesman who propounds them that they are just and necessary; and they are very apt, in order to avoid unnecessary trouble, to adopt and echo the opinions of such persons without due consideration. When, therefore, Lord John Russell, the father of the great reform measure of 1832, and for a long time the champion of its sufficiency, began by declaring it to be insufficient and imperfect, and then proceeded to devise measures for upsetting its arrangements and altering its provisions when Parliamentary Reform had been made a prominent topic in more than one speech from the throneand when Lord Palmerston, a more sagacious leader than Russell, whose influence and prestige were by that time on the wane, had also declared for reform, though without committing himself to details,-it is no way wonderful that the idea of reform should have become a fixed notion in the popular mind, and that men of every way of thinking should have arrived at the conclusion that some kind of measure was inevitable. But beyond that there was no agreement; indeed all was chaos. Neither by the country nor by Parliament were Lord John Russell's new offspring regarded with any favour. It is possible that the brain of Palmerston may have been teeming; but if so, there must have been cerebral miscarriage, for no Minerva issued from his head. In the House of Commons attempts were made by way of resolution to lay

down two principles for the guidance of future legislators. That which had for its object the adoption of the ballot was negatived-that for reducing the suffrage in counties to a £10 qualification was thrown out, but being afterwards embodied in a Bill passed the second reading, but proceeded no farther. This was literally all the advance made in Parliament towards practical reform. Out of doors the widest difference of opinion prevailed among those who took any interest in the question. The masses, as they are called, were in reality indifferent and uninterested. We have perused of late more than one speech, wherein this silence was poetically likened unto that hush which is the prelude of a thunderstorm, and the orators usually wound up their discourses by eloquent perorations, warning the enfranchised public of the danger of awakening the lightning. It is worth noting that these very orators had been doing their utmost, by itinerating harangues abounding in the most monstrous misrepresentations, to call forth the lightning, but without success. They were bound on a mission of agitation; they vehemently desired to stir up the people, but they could not. The working-classes stood generally aloof; could not be induced to move; would do nothing to second the efforts of those disinterested labourers in the vineyard who informed them that they were simply slaves. Now why was this? It is a question well worth consideration; for if we are right in our interpretation, it reflects the highest credit upon the good sense, perspicacity, and temperance of the working-class

es.

We are quite satisfied that, as a body, they do not wish to have political power in a measure corresponding to their numbers. They know each other much better than we know them. The more intelligent of them no inconsiderable section are perfectly well aware, and make no secret of it, that any measure which would give a preponderance of power to the workingclasses, must needs be fatal to the welfare of the country. They know how much ignorance, how much impulse, how much passion, and how

much prejudice prevail; and knowing that, they are anything but desirous that so perilous an experiment should be made. We have conversed often with really intelligent men belonging to the working-classes on this subject, with the view of ascertaining their candid opinion and individual wishes as to political privileges; and nothing has impressed us more than their extreme diffidence as to their own capability of exercising the franchise rightly. They say that they have not time to study political subjects; that they are perfectly satisfied if the laws are such as will protect them and forward their material interests; that they do not perceive how they would be bettered by having a vote; and that they never saw any good come of a workman addicting himself to politics. This last observation, which we have frequently heard repeated, seemed to us important enough to demand some further inquiry; and accordingly we have been told by foremen of large establishments, who have the best opportunities of knowing the character, habits, and pursuits of the workmen, that the steady, industrious, and sober take no interest whatever in political questions; whereas the idle, improvident, and drunken set up for political reformers, attend such meetings as those which Mr Bright has lately been addressing, and are clamorous for that franchise which, if granted them, they would most certainly abuse.

Passing from the workmen to those who have or might have the franchise under existing conditions-that anomalous body, in short, which is comprehended by the term of the middle classes-we find there no decided opinion on the subject of Parliamentary Reform. This is the class with which the power is really lodged, and the experience of seven-andtwenty years has shown that it is dominant in the country. A larger share of representation than is their due has been given to the towns; and therefore trade, commerce, and manufactures are more fully represented in the Lower House, at least directly,than the agricultural interest. But the time has gone by when the several interests were regarded as

antagonistic. A better and sounder feeling now prevails; and men have begun to understand and appreciate the doctrine of mutual dependence. Still there are the distinctions of party. Place a hundred men at random on the register, and you will find them arraying themselves on the right and on the left; banding together, and so remaining banded with few waverers between. We have noted, with some curiosity and inquisitiveness, the expressed sentiments of individuals belonging to this class, but attached to the different parties which are recognised in the State, ever since the proposal for a new Reform Bill was mooted; and we take it upon our conscience to say that more irreconcilable opinions were never broached before any railway committee. Our personal experience does not reach beyond Scotland; but as human nature is everywhere the same, we apprehend that the like tendencies must be exhibited in England also. In counties, where the Tory influence prevails, there is little stir within their appropriate boundaries; but great wrath is manifested by the indwellers of boroughs located in the midst of them, who are clear for a forty-shilling franchise, enabling them to overleap the wall, and, if possible, to swamp the territorial magnates, tenantry, and dwellers in the villages. Their enthusiasm, however, rapidly cools when they are asked whether forty-shilling proprietors in boroughs will consent to pay county rates? They thrust their hands into their pockets, savagely jingle the pence, and are dumb. In counties where the Whig interest is paramount, all is coleur de rose. We hear nothing about a forty-shilling franchise. Things are quite as they should be, and it would be preposterous to paint the lily. Turn to the urban constituencies in which there is no trace of Toryism: there the struggle is supposed to lie between the Whigs and what are called the advanced Liberals. But that, in the majority of instances, is a sham. The advanced Liberals returned are simply Whigs, who are allowed to masquerade a little, and to be crotchety occasionally, so that they do