From a consideration of these functions, it follows that we are ruled by the House of Commons; we are, indeed, so used to be so ruled, that it does not seem to be at all strange.  But of all odd forms of government, the oddest really is government by a public meeting.  Here are 658 persons, collected from all parts of England, different in nature, different in interests, different in look, and language.  If we think what an empire the English is, how various are its components, how incessant its concerns, how immersed in history its policy; if we think what a vast information, what a nice discretion, what a consistent will ought to mark the rulers of that empire, we shall be surprised when we see them.  We see a changing body of miscellaneous persons, sometimes few, sometimes many, never the same for an hour; sometimes excited, but mostly dull and half weary—­impatient of eloquence, catching at any joke as an alleviation.  These are the persons who rule the British Empire—­who rule England, who rule Scotland, who rule Ireland, who rule a great deal of Asia, who rule a great deal of Polynesia, who rule a great deal of America, and scattered fragments everywhere.

Paley said many shrewd things, but he never said a better thing than that it was much harder to make men see a difficulty than comprehend the explanation of it.  The key to the difficulties of most discussed and unsettled questions is commonly in their undiscussed parts:  they are like the background of a picture, which looks obvious, easy, just what any one might have painted, but which, in fact, sets the figures in their right position, chastens them, and makes them what they are.  Nobody will understand Parliament government who fancies it an easy thing, a natural thing, a thing not needing explanation.  You have not a perception of the first elements in this matter till you know that government by a club is a standing wonder.

There has been a capital illustration lately how helpless many English gentlemen are when called together on a sudden.  The Government, rightly or wrongly, thought fit to entrust the quarter-sessions of each county with the duty of combating its cattle-plague; but the scene in most “shire halls” was unsatisfactory.  There was the greatest difficulty in getting, not only a right decision, but any decision, I saw one myself which went thus.  The chairman proposed a very complex resolution, in which there was much which every one liked, and much which every one disliked, though, of course, the favourite parts of some were the objectionable parts to others.  This resolution got, so to say, wedged in the meeting; everybody suggested amendments; one amendment was carried which none were satisfied with, and so the matter stood over.  It is a saying in England, “a big meeting never does anything”; and yet we are governed by the House of Commons—­by “a big meeting”.