of love so forcibly, it can hardly serve our turn to be silent on the subject. Naturam expelles furca, tamen usque recurret.' There are countries in which it has been in accordance with the manners of the upper classes that the girl should be brought to marry the man almost out of the nursery, or rather, perhaps, out of the convent,-without having enjoyed any of that freedom of thought which the reading of novels and poetry will certainly produce; but we do not know that the marriages so made have been thought to be happier than our own.

Among English novels of the present day, and among English novelists, a great division is made. There are sensational novels, and anti-sensational; sensational novelists, and anti-sensational; sensational readers, and anti-sensational. The novelists who are considered to be anti-sensational are generally called realistic. The readers who prefer the one are supposed to take delight in the elucidation of character. They who hold by the other are charmed by the construction and gradual development of a plot. All this we think to be a mistake,-which mistake arises from the inability of the inferior artist to be at the same time realistic and sensational. A good novel should be both,-and both in the highest degree. If a novel fail in either, there is a failure in art. Let those readers who fancy that they do not like sensational scenes, think of some of those passages from our great novelists which have charmed them most, -of Rebecca in the castle with Ivanhoe; of Burley in the cave with Morton; of the mad lady tearing the veil of the expectant bride in Jane Eyre; of Lady Castlewood as, in her indignation, she explains to the Duke of Hamilton Harry Esmond's right to be present at the marriage of his Grace with Beatrix. Will any one say that the authors of these passages have sinned in being over-sensational? No doubt a string of horrible incidents, bound together without truth in details, and told as affecting personages without character,-wooden blocks who cannot make themselves known to readers as men and women,—does not instruct, or amuse, or even fill the mind with awe. Horrors heaped upon horrors, which are horrors only in themselves, and not as touching any recognised and known person, are not tragic, and soon cease even to horrify. Such would-be tragic elements of a story may be increased without end and without difficulty. The narratór may tell of a woman murdered, murdered in the same street with you, in the next house; may say that she was a wife murdered by her husband, a bride not yet a week a wife. He may add to it for ever. He may say that the murderer burnt her alive. There is no end to it. He may declare that a former wife was treated with equal barbarity, and that the murderer when led away to execution declared his sole regret to be that he could not live to treat a third after the same fashion. There is nothing so easy as the creation and cumulation of fearful incidents after this fashion. If such creation and

cumulation be the beginning and the end of the novelist's work,and novels have been written which seem to be without other attraction,-nothing can be more dull and nothing more useless. But not on that account are we averse to tragedy in prose fiction. As in poetry, so in prose, he who can deal adequately with tragic elements. is a greater artist, and reaches a higher aim, than the writer whose efforts never carry him above the mild walks of everyday life. The Bride of Lammermoor is a tragedy throughout in spite of its comic elements. The life of Lady Castlewood is a tragedy. Rochester's wretched thraldom to his mad wife in Jane Eyre is a tragedy. But these stories charm us, not simply because they are tragic, but because we feel that men and women with flesh and blood, creatures with whom we can sympathise, are struggling amidst their woes. It all lies in that. No novel is anything, for purposes either of comedy or tragedy, unless the reader can sympathise with the characters whose names he finds upon the page. Let the author so tell his tale as to touch his reader's heart and draw his reader's tears, and he has so far done his work well. Truth let there be,-truth of description, truth of character, human truth as to men and women. If there be such truth, I do not know that a novel can be too sensational.

ANTHONY TROLLOPE.

SHORTER PARLIAMEN1S.

THE true strength, freedom, and stability of England during the past two hundred years have undoubtedly arisen from the fact that the English people have insisted upon governing themselves. Conscious of this strength individually and collectively, the nation has not only developed the somewhat limited natural resources of these islands to an astonishing extent, but has, as if in the very exuberance of its freedom, added colony after colony to the Empire-the greater portion of which happily has been gained not by the sword and the bayonet, but by the ploughshare and the pruning-hook,-not by the tortuous and hidden ways of diplomacy, but by the open and peace-giving pursuits of commerce. Such a nation, conscious of its constitutional freedom, and planting similar constitutions throughout the world, is not likely to allow such freedom to be easily tampered with, or, seeing great obligations entered into without consultation, to allow such to pass without awakened concern. Hitherto, Ministers have recognised a combined service of loyalty to the Throne and consultation with the nation; but changes in this respect have recently been observable, indicating a drifting away from our Monarchical Republic to a system which, whether it be called a system of imperial or personal rule, is clearly unfavourable to the life of freedom. Such a policy warns us that some fresh safeguards are needed to secure the power of the people.

One such safeguard would, in my opinion, be secured were the people to have the power of electing their lawmakers and the administrators of their affairs somewhat more frequently than they can now do. As the law now stands, at every general election the people commit to the hands of Parliament, for the long period of seven years, enormous powers, which may be used for their weal or their woe without their having any power to make a change till the end of that time. The question is, whether it would not be better for all classes of the State if those enormous powers were regularly to revert to the people within a period of five years. It has been truly

said that

There is nothing that requires to be watched more than power; for there is a universal law which is constantly in operation, and that law is, the tendency of

power to centre in the few to the exclusion of the many: leave power unwatched for even a short time in the hands of the unscrupulous, and you will quickly see encroachments upon the liberties of the people, and there is nothing which should be resisted with a more determined resolution than such encroachments.

Different Prime Ministers have different notions as to the power of the Crown and the rights of the people. For instance, the present Prime Minister has notions of the prerogatives of the Crown and the rights of the people which, in my opinion, the mass of my fellowcountrymen do not in the least degree share. Enormous obligations have recently been incurred in the name of the British people, entailing, perhaps, heavy future taxation, and, it may be, even forced military service,-yet for two years more the hands of the people are tied and their voice is powerless; binding obligations are being entered into in relation to matters which, when the people had a voice five years ago, had not then even loomed in the distance. It is true that indignation meetings may be held, and protests against the action of a Government may be solemnly entered into, but there is no constitutional means by which it is possible for the nation formally to declare its mind at such a crisis, except a general election; and if these were a little more frequent than they now are, the effect on Ministers and Parliament would be extremely wholesome. Indeed, were I to use no other argument, but point to the experience of the country throughout the whole year, 1878, it would be sufficiently alarming to cause a desire on the part of all thinking men for some shortening of the time during which power was to remain uncontrolled in the hands of any Ministry.

In the great debate which took place at the end of last session on the Eastern Question, the leaders of the Opposition fearlessly and without hesitation pointed out the grave dangers to which this uncontrolled power of the Government might lead the country. Mr. Gladstone said: We are perplexed with the apprehension that, as long as these proceedings continue to be sustained by a majority in this House, and as long as the country has had no opportunity of passing its final and conclusive judgment, they will be repeated and renewed from time to time as may seem good to the Ministry in power.' Mr. Lowe declared that it is perfectly manifest, if this state of things may be supposed to be permanent, the liberties of the country are not worth a day's purchase.' Then Mr. Forster said: 'What I maintain is, that the action of the Government is practically revolutionary.' And again he urged: It is pitiable, it is almost absurd, to talk about the great council of the realm if a perfectly new policy is to be undertaken, and perfectly new responsibilities are to be incurred, without our ever being consulted.' And the leader of the Opposition, the Marquis of Hartington, in winding up the debate, was very clear in his expression of opinion that there has been a straining of the prerogative in this matter; and I venture to say that

in time to come it will be more difficult than it has hitherto been to maintain that practice of the prerogative of the Crown.' If such a state of things is allowed to go on after this Parliament is dissolved, it will be our own fault. The nation will look to the next House of Commons to devise some safeguards against the perilous position so clearly and ably pointed out by the leaders of the Liberal party.

1

The consideration of this question naturally divides itself into two aspects--the one historical, the other practical. In looking at the historical aspects of the subject, it is needless for my purpose to go back with any minuteness to an earlier period than to the Revolution. It is, however, worth observing that since the year 1509, when it is generally supposed the duration of Parliaments was extended beyond one year, there have been, including the present Parliament, eightysix in all. Only four of these existed beyond seven years; besides these, but ten have had a sexennial duration; of the rest, only ten have lasted above five years, five between four and five years, and six above three and less than four; of the remaining number only eleven existed above two years, and no less than thirty-eight for a shorter period: so that the average since the reign of Henry the Seventh does not exceed three years, even including the Long Parliament in the reign of Charles the First, and the still longer one of Charles the Second, which existed nearly seventeen years.

Let us now pass on to the historical aspects of the question since the Revolution; for although it is true there was the ephemeral Triennial Act of 1641, it is only of importance that we should look at the history and working of the Triennial Act of 1694, which was the law of the land for twenty years, and the Septennial Act of 1716, which still exists. As Lord Russell observes: The Revolution of 1688 which appeared merely to transfer the sovereignty over England from James to William and Mary, in actual fact transferred the sovereignty from the King to the House of Commons;' for by the Bill of Rights the sole power to tax the nation was vested in the House of Commons, and its annual meeting guaranteed by two provisions-the one that an Annual Act, the Mutiny Act, was necessary for keeping on foot a defined number of troops; the other, the Appropriation Act, which is also an Act annually repeated, and by a clause of which the Lords of the Treasury are forbidden from appropriating any moneys in the Exchequer for any other purpose than that voted by Parliament.

With these guarantees for its annual assembling, the House of Commons became the supreme power in the State.

No Ministry had in the modern sense of the term yet existed.