In fact the House of Lords, as a House, is not a bulwark that will keep out revolution, but an index that revolution is unlikely.  Resting as it does upon old deference, and inveterate homage, it shows that the spasm of new forces, the outbreak of new agencies, which we call revolution, is for the time simply impossible.  So long as many old leaves linger on the November trees, you know that there has been little frost and no wind; just so while the House of Lords retains much power, you may know that there is no desperate discontent in the country, no wild agency likely to cause a great demolition.

There used to be a singular idea that two chambers—­a revising chamber and a suggesting chamber—­were essential to a free Government.  The first person who threw a hard stone—­an effectually hitting stone—­against the theory was one very little likely to be favourable to democratic influence, or to be blind to the use of aristocracy; it was the present Lord Grey.  He had to look at the matter practically.  He was the first great Colonial Minister of England who ever set himself to introduce representative institutions into all her capable colonies, and the difficulty stared him in the face that in those colonies there were hardly enough good people for one assembly, and not near enough good people for two assemblies.  It happened—­and most naturally happened—­that a second assembly was mischievous.  The second assembly was either the nominee of the Crown, which in such places naturally allied itself with better instructed minds, or was elected by people with a higher property qualification—­some peculiarly well-judging people.  Both these choosers choose the best men in the colony, and put them into the second assembly.  But thus the popular assembly was left without those best men.  The popular assembly was denuded of those guides and those leaders who would have led and guided it best.  Those superior men were put aside to talk to one another, and perhaps dispute with one another; they were a concentrated instance of high but neutralised forces.  They wished to do good, but they could do nothing.  The Lower House, with all the best people in the colony extracted, did what it liked.  The democracy was strengthened rather than weakened by the isolation of its best opponents in a weak position.  As soon as experience had shown this, or seemed to show it, the theory that two chambers were essential to a good and free Government vanished away.

With a perfect Lower House it is certain that an Upper House would be scarcely of any value.  If we had an ideal House of Commons perfectly representing the nation, always moderate, never passionate, abounding in men of leisure, never omitting the slow and steady forms necessary for good consideration, it is certain that we should not need a higher chamber.  The work would be done so well that we should not want any one to look over or revise it.  And whatever is unnecessary in Government is pernicious.  Human