In less than a fortnight's time the House of Lords, like James II., having
abdicated their functions by absence, the Reform Bill passed; the ardent
monarch, who a few months before had expressed his readiness to go down to
Parliament, in a hackney coach if necessary, to assist its progress, now
declining personally to give his assent to its provisions.

In the protracted discussions to which this celebrated measure gave rise,
nothing is more remarkable than the perplexities into which the speakers
of both sides are thrown, when they touch upon the nature of the
representative principle. On one hand it was maintained, that, under the
old system, the people were virtually represented; while on the other, it
was triumphantly urged, that if the principle be conceded, the people
should not be virtually, but actually, represented. But who are the
people? And where are you to draw a line? And why should there be any? It
was urged that a contribution to the taxes was the constitutional
qualification for the suffrage. But we have established a system of
taxation in this country of so remarkable a nature, that the beggar who
chews his quid as he sweeps a crossing, is contributing to the imposts! Is
he to have a vote? He is one of the people, and he yields his quota to the
public burthens.

Amid these conflicting statements, and these confounding conclusions, it
is singular that no member of either House should have recurred to the
original character of these popular assemblies, which have always
prevailed among the northern nations. We still retain in the antique
phraseology of our statutes the term which might have beneficially guided
a modern Reformer in his reconstructive labours.

When the crowned Northman consulted on the welfare of his kingdom, he
assembled the ESTATES of his realm. Now an estate is a class of the nation