e tempest begins to howl. Who can say where its course
should stop? who can stay its speed? For my own part, I earnestly hope
that my predictions may not be fulfilled, and that my country may not be
ruined by the measure which the noble earl and his colleagues have
sanctioned.' Lord John Russell, on the contrary, held then the view
which he afterwards expressed: 'It is the right of a people to represent
its grievances: it is the business of a statesman to devise remedies.'
In the first quarter of the present century the people made their
grievances known. Lord Grey and his Cabinet in 1831-2 devised remedies,
and, in Lord John's memorable phrase, 'popular enthusiasm rose in its
strength and converted them into law.'

The Reform Bill, as Walter Bagehot has shown, did nothing to remove the
worst evils from which the nation suffered, for the simple reason that
those evils were not political but economical. But if it left
unchallenged the reign of protection and much else in the way of
palpable and glaring injustice, it ushered in a new temper in regard to
public questions. It recognised the new conditions of English society,
and gave the mercantile and manufacturing classes, with their wealth,
intelligence, and energy, not only the consciousness of power, but the
sense of responsibility.

[Sidenote: A GENEROUS TRIBUTE]

The political struggle under Pitt had been between the aristocracy and
the monarchy, but that under Grey was between the aristocracy and the
middle classes, for the claims of the democracy in the broad sense of
the word lay outside the scope of the measure. In spite of its halting
confidence in the people, men felt that former things of harsh
oppression had passed away, and that the Reform Bill rendered their
return impossible. It was at best only a half measure, but it broke the
old exclusive traditions and diminished to a remarkable degree the power
of the landed interest in Parliament. It has been said that it was the
business of Lord John Russell at that crisis to save England from
copying the example of the French Revolution, and there can be no doubt
whatever that the measure was a safety-valve at a moment when political
excitement assumed a menacing form. The public rejoicings were inspired
as much by hope as by gladness. A new era had dawned, the will of the
nation had prevailed, the spirit of progress was abroad, and the
multitudes knew that other reforms less showy perhaps but not less
substan