or by a reference to the parties to the agreement-i.e., by Referendum. Here, too, the Referendum is reasonable; at all events, there are distinct grounds for withdrawing such matters from the ordinary course of legislation.

I may add as a third condition: when the Constitution is-as all Federal Constitutions are the result of an agreement between States. Here, too, the Referendum is the natural mode of effecting an amendment in which is a contract between independent Powers. As the commentators on the Australian Commonwealth Act remark: "A Federal legislation is a mere creation of the Federal Constitution; it is a mere instrument or servant of a Federal community; it is an agent, not a master" (Quick and Garran, p. 988).

So far none of these conditions exist with us. I take first the second point. The Empire, as distinguished from the United Kingdom, has certain chapters of a written Constitution. Each of the statutes establishing in Canada, Australia, South Africa, Parliaments and Governments is a constitutional measure just as much as is the Constitution of the United States. These measures may require to be amended. But for the Referendum in the sense of an appeal to the people of the United Kingdom there is no place. Theoretically the British Parliament might change these measures. Practically they can be changed only by the Dominions themselves. So far as the United Kingdom is concerned all our law stands in the same position. Parliament is supreme; the last limitation to it was removed when the conception of a law above Parliaments was abandoned."

I take next the first named essential condition, which is the most important of all. Representative govern

* See McIlwain's "Supremacy of Parliament."

ment and direct legislation are not identical. On the contrary, they are, according to the great exponent of the latter, irreconcilable; there can be no representation with true democracy as he understands it. In a famous passage in the "Contrat Social" Rousseau says: "Les deputés du peuple ne sont donc ni ne peuvent être ses représentants; ils ne sont que ses Commissaires; ils ne peuvent rien conclure definitivement. . . . L'idee des représent ants est moderne; elle nous vient de cet inique et absurde Gouvernement dans lequel l'espéce humaine est dégradée et où le nom d'homme est en deshonneur" ("Contrat Social," III., c. XV.). A system of delegates as distinguished from representatives may be the ultimate. and necessary evolution of democracy; the sovereignty of the people may ultimately mean that and no less; there are signs that we are travelling to that end. But it signifies a transformation of the constitutional position of a member of Parliament, and in the long run of the House of Commons. There seems no escape from this; either the Referendum will be so rarely employed as to be of little account, or there will be a gradual impairment of the power of the House of Commons. The automaton M.P.-he who gets his opinions from the whip or his constituents-is, I am told, not unknown. He will be avowedly the normal member when the Referendum is in full operation; in regard to fundamental questions, those which elevate politics above the petty concerns of life, and which alone make them the worthy pursuit of highminded men, it will be their business not to form opinions, but to take orders.

I add a further query. Those who have urged the adoption of the Referendum have not told us why, if the Referendum is desirable, is not also the Initiative; why is it not the more desirable of the two? The popular will

may be thwarted by lack of legislation just as much as by legislation. I am not sure that the case for the Initiative is not somewhat stronger than that for the Referendum, now that the constitutional right of petition is practically useless; that the power of the private member to initiate important legislation is at an end; that questions which do not give trouble to Governments are apt to be overlooked; that measures which do not bring fame and popularity to an Administration are not introduced or not pressed forward and passed; and that the power of minorities is probably more restricted than it ever was in parliamentary history. When one sees measures of great consequence pushed aside to give place to those lending themselves to party cries, the case for the Initiative seems the strongest.

The advantages claimed for the Referendum are mainly: (1) Its educational effect; "It is most favorable to the advancement of the education of the people" (Oswald, "Direct Legislation by the People," p. 9). (2) The supposed power of the people of judging of measures which are to their interest; "The experience of democracy teaches that a people can be more easily misled when there is a question of persons than when there is a question of things" (Oswald, "Direct Legislation by the People," p. 8). (3) The Referendum is the only means, it is said, of keeping the Legislature in touch with the people. (4) The separation of measures from men; "It (the Referendum) separates public issues from men and gets the people into the habit of considering the advisability of laws upon their merits" (Pierce, "Federal Usurpation," p. 104). (5) The Referendum would correct the anomalies of our electoral system; each voter would have one vote; each vote would have one value; a vote in Ireland would not count for more than a vote in London. (6) The

Referendum would be a protection against hurried legislation.

Some of these claims-e.g., No. 2carry with them their refutation; at all events, whatever weight they may have in Switzerland, where no party system similar to ours exists, where Bills are short and simple, where the principle of a measure can readily be disentangled from a few details, and approval or disapproval of it can be intelligently expressed by a "Yes" or a "No," they have little bearing upon legislation in England, which is generally complex, full of details, often the result of complicated compromises between opposing parties. Probably the warmest admirer of popular government would not attribute to electors greater power of discriminating as to the merits of measures than their representatives. There are large classes of legislation of which they are notoriously bad or imperfect judges. Probably no recent statutes have done more good, physically and morally, to the people than the Public Health Acts. Yet it may well be doubted whether such measures would have met with the approval of the great body of the electors. They would have been repelled by the multiplied provisions interfering with personal liberty. The Referendum might occasionally prevent hurried legislation; it might also occasionally be the instrument of parties. But if it acted as a restraint upon precipitate legislation, at what a price would this be purchased! If there were withdrawn from the House of Commons the last word as to constitutional legislation-i.e., as to legislation affecting the Crown, the composition and powers of the two Houses of Parliament, the electorate and the component parts of the Empire-what would be left for Parliament? Besides, who is to determine what are constitutional questions? Not the Government of the day, an interested

party. If a body of judges, they would be invested with dangerous or invidious powers in excess of those of the Supreme Court of the United States; the latter construe a written document; the former would be free to launch out on the wide sea of constitutional law.

Whatever element of truth may be in these claims for the Referendum, most of them would be met by short Parliaments, by reforms in electoral distribution, and by some measure seyuring the representation of minorities. I will not dwell upon all the many disadvantages incident to the Referendum e.g., the expense of the system, the difficulty of amending measures which had been once approved. I mention only one vital objection. What is now the problem of political problems, the difficult conciliation to be made, if possible, here and wherever democracy exists? To maintain it while eliminating its dangers; to combine the power of the people with the just influence of knowledge; to unite free political life with discipline and self-restraint; to find protection not only against oppression, which is now rare, but also against ignorance, which is always common. The Referendum is no solution of this problem; it might make the combination to be desired rarer and more difficult.

the writings of publicists there has been much refined dscussion as to The Contemporary Review.

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the true distinction between representative government and the rule of the many, direct and unqualified. The former has been described as a method of eliciting the collective will, the true will of the community. Guizot, the historian of representative government, sees in it а method by which prominence is given to the best elements scattered through society: "Les organiser en pouvoir de fait, c'est à dire de concentrer, de réaliser la raison publique, la morale publique, et de les appeler au pouvoir.” ' These are dark sayings, refinements not in touch with facts, abstractions which often conceal the advocacy or defence of class interest. The essence of the representative system, stated in, simple words according with facts, is trust by the many in the worthiest available. It is this trust which gives to representative government what is best in aristocracy without its drawbacks. It is this trust, used on the whole honestly and wisely, which has so far confuted the oldest and most common accusations against democracy; and such hope as exists that the evils incident to democracy may be more and more avoided depends upon the continuance of a system under which the many repose confidence in a select few. And this element the Referendum and Initiative would weaken.

John Macdonell.

I had lived in London long enough, with no break but that of a brief yearly holiday and such short absences as I was able to steal from work for shooting with my friends. In winter I made a point of a day's hunting on a Saturday, and hunting by train is tiring and unsatisfactory. London will always have its charms for me.

I

know it and love it. I can find my way about it in the densest November fog. I feel at home in a thousand odd corners of it. I have been blessed with many friendships made and cemented there. And yet I began to feel that I wanted to make my home in the

3 Guizot, "Histoire des Origines du Gouvernement Representatif," II., 150.

country, more especially since it seemed likely to be a bachelor home till the end. I have seen too many old London club bachelors to wish to fossilize into one myself. Only the other day I saw in "The Times" the death of one of them. I had known him pretty well for twenty years, and liked him; but I had not heard he was ill, and I went to the lodginghouse in Bury Street where he had lived. The landlord of the house opened the door to me himself, and I asked sympathetically about my old 'acquaintance.

"Was any one with him at the end?" 1 said.

"Oh dear, no, sir; just the nurse in the nursing home we had to take him to.

She said he went hoff very nicely.

I went up the next morning, and his cousin, Mr. Blackwell, came next day. We buried him this morning at Kensal Green, poor old gentleman. Thirtythree years he lived here, sir. I bought him with the lease-he had only a bedroom-had all his meals at the club. That's all he had"-turning and pointing to a portmanteau, a bag, and a hat-box, lying together in the passage. "We're sending them on to Mr. Blackwell's in Leicestershire to-night." And he laughed a little, not unkindly, at the meagre show the battered old luggage made.

Well, I turned away with a shudder.

me.

It mustn't come to this with Yet how easily it might! Here was a man who, twenty years before, had crowds of friends, was welcome everywhere, had good looks, good breeding, to commend him-and yet it came to this, a hired bed and a hired nurse at the end. Where was the woman he had loved and lost, whose arm should have been round him, whose lips should have been on his tired forehead?

Perhaps she read it in "The Times" --perhaps she missed it. She chose

otherwise years ago, and he became a London clubman.

Now, surely in the country there would be less risk of such a dreary exit. Some kindly neighbor would know my house and know that I lived there, and would hear that I was dying and come and see me. So the news would spread a little in my backwater, and the other denizens would surely come and ask about me, and perhaps come in and see me. And if I had a couple of servants they might attach themselves to me, and perhaps let my surviving relations, if I have any, know and so on. Yes, the country is kinder then. It knows more than one wants it to know sometimes, but that makes for sympathy in the long run, perhaps.

I took a small house in the hunting country where I was wont to go, and where my horses were standing, and I furnished it and rebuilt the stables and moved in.

This was all tolerably easy, and there is no trouble about managing stables and stablemen.

But my domestic troubles in the other department of my household were really rather overwhelming at first. All my female relatives had taken the deepest interest in the question of my establishment. It was quite clear I couldn't "keep house" myself-I didn't know tapioca from sago, and don't know it now-and I hadn't the remotest idea how many pounds of meat or butter "went to" each person in the establishment per week, nor could I remember it for twenty-four hours when I was told.

One said I must have a "general," and she advertised at her own charges in her own local paper for a "general" for me. Another declared that "generals" were unsatisfactory, and that I must have a "cook-housekeeper." other said I absolutely must have a man and wife, and get rid of Clarke.

An

Well, I began rather badly. My relations had all written voluminous letters on the subject, but not one of them had found me the woman she was seeking for me, and described with such insistence and graphic power. The less able they seemed to find me any one, the better able they were to describe the ideal I must strive for, and must on no account exchange for any other, even if I starved and failed to get my bed made in the meantime. So when it was getting near the time for moving in, I went to an agency near my lodging and took the first woman they recommended to me. She seemed a pleasant sort of person, and the agent said she had a good character. and she came. I wrote to each of my advisers, and said I hoped I had found just the person she had been so anxious for me to have; and I invited them all to come and stay with me later on and see for themselves.

I had to put off their visits. I had quite a good dinner the first evening I went down to my new house. Mrs. Woolley had arrived earlier in the day. Before dinner she sent me a message through Clarke to say that there was no sherry to cook with. . I didn't know one cooked with sherry, but Clarke said it was usual in "good houses," so I sent him to the kitchen with a bottle, and he came back and said Maraschino would be necessary for the ice. So I sent Maraschino. My relations all said afterwards that was unwise. Anyhow, breakfast was very unpunctual next morning, and I had reason to complain of other matters, and Mrs. Woolley left in tears, invoking alternate blessings and curses on me and my house, and escorted to the station by Clarke and my groom, who gave her a bottle of soda-water for her refreshment on the journey to her home and handed her ticket to the guard.

I dined for several nights at the mess-it was on the outskirts of a gar

A

rison town I had settled-by the kindness of my military friends, or at my club in London. And then I found Kate Cleary. She was a "general." poor fellow I knew had married on two-pence a-year and no expectations, and his pretty little wife had died and left him stranded with a baby and a nurse and a small flat in Kensington and a “general." His mother took the baby and the nurse, and I took the general-at his urgent request. He said she was a treasure, and had been one of the comforts of his short married life.

I don't know why, but my bachelor establishment didn't seem to suit her. She was Irish and a Roman Catholic, and I think Clarke must have aired some offensive heretical doctrines at tea the evening she came, or have spoken disrespectfully of the Pope of Rome. She sent me up a beastly dinner, and I have a suspicion that Clarke made discourteous remarks about it when it became his supper in the kitchen later in the evening. Kate Cleary resigned the next day, and totally declined to stay even for the usual month. I dined out once or twice again, and then I went up to London for a day or two to think it over. And there I found Mrs. Smith. I was dining with some friends of mine, and described my situation in such affecting terms to an old friend whom I had taken in to dinner, that she declared she must sacrifice something herself to help me, and that if I would like to have her housemaid, who had been with various members of her family, in various capacities, for years and years, and was an excellent cook, she felt sure I should never regret it.

She was quite frank about it all, and told me Mrs. Smith had been with her and her family so long that they recognized their obligation to pension her before many years were past, and would certainly do it, whether she