benches of Westminster. He must avow and act upon a certain definite policy. Well, there might be difficulty during a Septennial, but there can be no difficulty during a Triennial, Parliament, in consistently following the broad line of policy professed, or at least if any very unforeseen and difficult emergency or change of circumstances arise, he could not well deviate so seriously, during that time, that his honest representations to his electors of his honest dealing with the trust committed to him would not be well received by any English constituency. But if by his vote under such rare and exceptional circumstances the member should wholly alienate his constituents, the consequence would not be an immediate order to execution; and it is degrading to the House of Commons to suppose members so weak and servile that they dare not act during a Triennial as they would in a Septennial Parliament. If they be honest they would act in the same way, and if they be not, are we to perpetuate Septennial Parliaments for the sake of weak or dishonest members? To argue that the vote which might seem wrong in a Triennial might seem right in a Septennial Parliament, when time had been allowed for the completion and development of the questionable policy, is vain. It is obvious that this plea could only apply to votes during the first half of the term, and that, after that period has elapsed, all Parliaments become Triennial, and the nervous member would cease to vote behind Septennial barricades. It is evident, however, that all such reasoning presupposes admirable foresight on the part of the member, and crass stupidity on the part of the constituency. No constituency condemns any vote upon a doubtful or difficult question, which is in general consistency with original professions, and it is intolerable that a member, who persistently diverges from the policy declared upon the hustings, should be allowed to set his constituents at defiance for seven years, and use the power entrusted to him to carry measures of which they may seriously disapprove. Triennial Parliaments would really give the member all the independence which could reasonably be desired by any high-minded man, while they would secure to the constituency the adequate representation which electoral law naturally contemplates, but which Septennial Parliaments now fail to ensure.

One word may be added with regard to the influence of Septennial Parliaments in connection with the privileges of the Crown. There can be no doubt that the power to dissolve Parliament at any moment, and the power at the same time to withhold dissolution for seven years is a very considerable advantage on the side of the Sovereign, especially when it is remembered that adroit management of popular passions, at the moment of re-election, might secure a fresh lease of power to a Ministry obsequiously, but insidiously, enlarging Royal prerogatives at the expense of the Constitution. An able Ministry with such tendencies, supported by an obedient majority, might do much mischief before the country could authoritatively interiere.

It is useless to say that the country can make itself heard

at any time without waiting for an election. There are complicated divisions which render any decisive expression of national views almost impossible, except in the case of gross abuses, which are not here contemplated. Party motives would always secure the adhesion of considerable numbers. Apathy, indifference, or want of clear perception would prevent action on the part of many more, and it could only be moments of rare excitement which could stimulate the nation into unanimous utterance of opinion. The only effectual expression of the sense of the country is to be looked for in the Ballot-box, and that is precisely the opportunity which can so long be withheld. If, on the contrary, the rule of Triennial Parliaments were adopted in England this objection would be almost wholly removed, without introducing any element of danger to the Crown. A limited Monarchy like ours, governing through Parliament, has nothing to fear from a British House of Commons. Its greatness, its strength, depends upon the closeness of its union with the people, and it is through the possibility of these relations becoming faint and vitiated by long Septennial lapses of communication that the only risk of misunderstanding between the Crown and the people exists. An ambitious Minister and a servile Cabinet, taking advantage of a long term of power, might, by mistaken efforts to extend the influence of the Crown, for a time succeed in widening the limits of prerogative, but no one who knows the temper of England, or the political tendencies of the age, can doubt that the day of reaction would eventually arrive, bringing consequences as sure as they are undesirable. Triennial Parliaments would present an effectual bar to such injudicious attempts.

I have very imperfectly stated the case for Triennial Parliaments. Adequate treatment of it would have required much greater space than could be accorded to me here. I do not doubt that the subject must ere long occupy the attention of all who are interested in the development and completion of our representative system. It is, of course, primarily an electors' question, and when Englishmen are duly alive to the importance of the franchise, they will scarcely be content to be deprived of electoral rights for so long a period, in times like these. The duration of Parliaments should become a hustings question, for it would require infantine trust in human nature to hope that the ordinary member," agricolous" or otherwise, should, without gentle stimulation, actually request that he may be elected for three years instead of for But even this wonder may be expected from that happily large class of enlightened politicians who think more of the good of the country than they do of personal case, and to them this important subject may be confidently commended. The duration of Parliaments under the strangely-altered circumstances of Great Britain and the world must certainly be shortened if the House of Commons is to be an adequate and trustworthy representation of the sense of the nation.

seven.

WALTER R. CASSELS.

THE PILLAR OF PRAISE.

A

THANKFUL heart as heart of man could be Had William, Earl of Roslyn, Lord St. Claire, When having long been tossed by land and sea

And proved of wandering days the foul and fair, He, breathing deep his Scotland's homely air, Oft gave it back again in praise and prayer: Praise for that cup of life he held fulfilled,Prayer, seeing that so full, it could be spilled.

No princelier pair held sway beneath the throne

Than this same Earl of Roslyn and his mate;
The daily largess doled from royal Scone

Was poor to that which flowed from Roslyn gate.
As man and earl this lord was threefold great,-
Great heart he had, great stature, and estate;

And Roslyn's lady though of beauty rare

Was called of men "the good" and not "the fair."

And sweetly in the mellow eventide

From lordly cares and lordly state unbent, These lovers on the terrace side by side

Were wont to hold discourse of their content; Or else, their married hearts more wholly blent, Would pause from talk with smiling faces leant Above the babe who took his fearless rest In comfort of his mother's heaving breast.

And so it fell that once, the day being done,
Resting in freedom of the summer air,
They of the golden setting of the sun

And silvery voice of Esk, were hardly 'ware;
Nor heeded, if they heard from their repair,
The quintaine strokes delivered to the share
Of youthful pages, laughed at by the grooms,
Or babble of the ladies at their looms.

The sky was clear as any chrysolite,

And near the moon's keen edge, looked down and smiled The evening star, that knows no goodlier sight

Than such a man and woman, and their child.
Let blaring heralds tell how he was styled,-
As day wore on to night through evening mild,
He was her William, she his Margery,
With Oliver, their infant, on her knee.

And on this eve that was so soft and fair

He spoke, as if to ease his joy's excess,
And said: "This life is sweet beyond compare,

With Christ, His law in place of Heathenesse,
With true heart's love for wandering loneliness,
With friends to cherish, and the poor to bless ;
The day is fair and full, too short the night
For sleep that falleth soft on loves' delight.

"My heart that for such wealth is all too straight
Must overflow; and truly as a mere
Makes fat its borders, doth our high estate

Give fruit of our great joy to all a-near;

But so joy changeth, passeth, as the year,
Till of the heaven it showed us nought appear;

I would that blessing it might flow for ever

Renewed and still abiding, as a river!

"And this because I hold that joy which springs
From true life lived, and love thus truly loved,
Hath might that not belongs to mortal things

To lift the heart to God; which hath been proved
Of languid souls that deeds of grace have moved,
And some reclaimed of love who once had roved.

So in this faith I fain would build, dear wife,
A monument to joy of love and life;

"That when our mortal house so frail and fair
With windows of the sense which open wide
And let in various light and spices rare-

All sweets which are of mother earth the pride-
Hath fallen back to dust, and side by side

Our bones are laid, that men can say they died,'The thoughts which moved us may appear alive

As now in fourteen hundred forty-five."

So spoke the Earl outpouring of his heart
The overplus, the which his gentle dame
Cherished as it had been the dearest part

Of hers; as oft she pondered on the same,
Their blended thought, of life took form and frame,
And, as it saw the day, they gave it name,
And said: "The joy too great for us alone,
Shall blossom to all after time in stone;

"We twain will build a house to God, and shrine For Mother Mary; first to God our King,

Who is our life, and then for her, in sign

That she for us hath travailed sorrowing,
And felt the burthen of that holy thing'

That for our sore can sole salvation bring:

The love that feeds on sacrifice, and dies
That we, partaking too, may also rise."

And hereupon these lovers who before

Had cheer so great between them, straightway drew

A draught of joy so deep, their lips ran o'er

In happy song, since nothing less would do;
The ladies at their looms rose up, and threw
Their shuttles by, and sung rejoicing too,
While squire and page, with one sad wounded knight,
Shouted incontinent for hearts' delight.

Then wheresoe'er this earl had seen a thing,

In countries far or near, whose goodliness
Had wrought on fancy so that it would bring
It back to him unasked, he did address
Princes or Burghers of that place, express
To send him craftsmen, skilful more or less ;-
But fashioned all in habitudes of truth

Whereto such sights had lessoned them in youth.