WE are of no party. We are attached to Queen, Lords, and Commons, and believe that our existing constitution is in many respects the best in the world, and, with all its faults, better adapted to our actual state than the most complete manufactured system on the Continental or American plan could possibly be. It attains, in a rough but practical manner, to the object of the constitutional system; a fair representation of the various classes and interests of society. Agriculture, manufactures, and commerce; the aristocracy and the democracy; the church and the universities; all have their representatives; and though representation is not divided among them in the proportion of either numbers or wealth, yet each of these is sufficiently powerful in the State to make its voice heard and its interests regarded. There is something at first sight captivating in the idea of a representation based on perfect numerical equality; the scheme which the Chartists designate as "universal suffrage and equal electoral districts." A little consideration, however, will convince any man but a bigoted democrat, that such a system would not give a fair but an atrociously one-sided representation; because it would represent numbers alone, and not wealth or intelligence. If it is granted, then, that all these various social elements have a right to representation, it may next be asked, in what proportion they are to be represented. And to this question we do not see how any definite answer can be given. The right principle is, that which we have inherited from our ancestors of the middle ages; to grant the right of representation to every important body in the State, and not to trouble ourselves with the insoluble problem of theoretical perfection. What we have said of the present composition of the House of Commons applies only so far, as it represents important interests. But there are many members of the House who represent no interest at all, but that of some aristocratic patron; and many more who represent nothing but beer and bribery. It may suit the purpose of democratic agitators to say that the nation has grown so much in wealth and wisdom since 1832, as to require the constitution to be again adjusted and made to fit. Such, however, is not the fact. It is our belief that a Reform Bill is required, but on totally different grounds from that of 1832. The na tion was then indignant at aristocratic nomination-it is now scandalised at plebeian corruption. It is well-known that bribery cannot be put down by Act of Parliament; it is absurd to suppose that more political virtue is to be obtained by lowering the qualification for the franchise; and it will be a fruitless attempt to cure the corruption or the subserviency of a small borough by uniting it with a few neighbouring towns, which are probably exposed to the same influences. The remedy for corruption is disfranchisement. And we think the same of subserviency; for the man who votes at another's bidding ought not to have a vote at all. It is true that the members for those small boroughs which are virtually in the hands of a patron, represent the aristocracy. But the aristocracy are amply represented by the House of Lords: and if the exclusion of their indirect and unconstitutional power from the House of Commons should lead to an increased exercise of their direct and constitutional power in the House of Lords, we should think such a result rather a benefit than otherwise. It is our opinion that a clean sweep ought to be made of all the small boroughs, so as to get rid of as much bribery and nomination as possible. There may be some counties, no doubt, which are as subservient as any borough; but no one is wild enough to propose to disfranchise a county. We have next to consider what is to be done with the forfeited seats. We do not see the vital necessity of allotting them at all. There is nothing magical in the number 658. Public opinion will, however, demand that they be allotted in some way or another: and it is quite reasonable that the privilege of representation should be conferred on those towns which have grown up since the Reform Bill of 1832. We do not ground this claim on any supposed natural right; we have said what we think of the theory of equal electoral districts; but it is desirable that when a town grows great, its people should be raised in their own estimation as citizens, and be taught to feel themselves a part of the constitution, by receiving the privilege of representation. The great constituencies of Manchester and other towns, which were enfranchised in 1832, have in general remained uncorrupted. Another, and we think a very good project, is to increase the representation of intelligence by conferring the privilege of electing two members each on the London University, the Queen's University of Ireland, and the Scotch Universities; every possessor of a degree or diploma to have a vote. It has also been suggested that the First Lord of the Treasury, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Secretaries of State, and perhaps a few others of the highest officers of the Crown, should have ex-officio seats in the House of Commons, when they are not members of the House of Lords. This would in some cases be of material advantage to the business of the country; for the great officers of State must be in Parliament, and important political ar rangements may be impeded by the difficulty of obtaining a seat. Such a plan would not be new. Before the Reform Act of 1832, the Government could always obtain a seat for any of its members without difficulty, by means of some nomination borough. We propose to do avowedly what was then done by underhand means; for we are not bigoted enough to think that there was no good in the system which came to an end in 1832. There is no necessary connexion between a re-distribution of representation and a change of the qualification required for the franchise. These two questions are, however, so mixed together in men's minds, that they are certain to be discussed at the same time, and probably dealt with in the same Act of Parliament. We are of opinion-and do not see how any but a partisan can think otherwise-that the suffrage is quite low enough. But a wrong theory is not to be disposed of by saying it is wrong. Democracy is the winning side, and, whether right or wrong, it is certain to advance. The mass of the people of the United Kingdom do not just now care for an extension of the suffrage; but they may in a few years, and, before the aristocracy find out what is going on, make such a demand for an increase of democratic power, as no Parliament can venture to resist. The very fact, however, that there is no political agitation at present, makes this a peculiarly appropriate time for the legislature to approach the question of Parliamentary Reform in a calm and statesmanlike spirit. Those who dislike all change, whether for the better or the worse, are in the habit of saying, "We need not legislate now, when the nation does not demand any change:" and when the national voice does demand a change, the very saïne men will say, "We will not legislate under popular dictation." There is much that is true and good in this latter sentiment. But if the one argument is sincere, the other is a mere evasion. And legislators will find that if they do not make organic changes when the nation is comparatively apathetic, they must make them at some other time under popular dictation. It is perfectly true that, in revolutions, one concession only makes another necessary; but this is when the people know that all is yielded to fear, and nothing to a sense of justice or enlightened policy. On the contrary, when statesmen are enlightened enough to anticipate the popular demand for an increase of power, great changes may be made without the slightest danger, and in a far better and more deliberate manner than when they are extorted by the people. It is not the making, but the extorting, of a constitutional change that is dangerous to a state. A slight alteration in the representative system would be worse than none. It would only stimulate the appetite for change, and familiarise men's minds with the idea of innovation. No change ought to be deliberately made which is not sufficiently comprehensive and rational to satisfy all reasonable men, and, so far as may be, to settle the question of Parliamentary Reform for ever. It is most undesirable that our constitution should be always under discussion, and subjected to change at intervals of twenty or thirty years. A statesman ought to aim at permanence in his works; not by obstinately resisting all change, but by constructing that which will sink into a nation's sympathies, and withstand the shocks of time. The change which we propose is to extend the suffrage to all who pay direct taxes, whether national or local. We have not the slightest abstract love of either democracy or constitutional change. But we believe that this constitutional change would prevent other and greater changes from being demanded, and perhaps obtained in future years that this concession to democracy would obviate the necessity of farther concessions. The lowering of the franchise to five pound householders, or any other extension of the suffrage not based on an intelligible principle, would leave the suffrage question still open, and might prepare the way for farther changes. But the principle that representation should be co-extensive with direct taxation is so simple, intelligible, and fair, that if it were once established by statute, we do not think any considerable party would ever propose to disturb it. The question of the distribution of representation would still remain, and would come before Parliament from time to time, as new towns grow up. Vil In order to prevent their enfranchisement from becoming a party question, and suggesting still farther changes, as it would do if brought before the legislature, it seems desirable that a permanent provision should be made, once for all, for the enfranchisement of new towns. This question may become important sooner than we suppose. lages in the manufacturing districts grow into towns in less than a generation. Railway enterprise is making new seaports. And we do not know what cities may be built by the now unworked fisheries and undiscovered mines of Ireland. It is surely better that new towns should be enfranchised as a matter of course, than that they should shake the constitution by the violence of their knocking when they demand an entrance within its pale. It would not be necessary to disfranchise other constituencies in order to make room for their representatives. The number of seats in the House of Commons may be increased as well as diminished. The number of Peers is not fixed. The changes which we have proposed are as follow: The extinction of small boroughs, which would go far to extinguish corruption, and the illegitimate influence of the aristocracy. The enfranchisement of those universities which are not now represented. This would give increased representation to intelligence. The conferring of ex-officio seats in the Commons on those high officers of the Crown who are not members of the House of Lords. This would not much increase the parliamentary power of the ministry, and would be a measure of great political utility. The enfranchisement of large towns -with A permanent provision for the enfranchisement of all large towns that grow up in future. The extension of the suffrage to every payer of direct taxes or rates. These last three measures would be of democratic tendency. The scheme we propose would take power from the aristocracy and give it to the democracy. Such a change, however, must come sooner or later; we have only to consider how it may best be done. If tax-paying suffrage and a fairer distribution of representation among the towns be not conceded, universal suffrage and equal electoral districts may be extorted. Besides, the aristocracy have enough of constitutional power in the House of Lords, without exercising unconstitutional power through small boroughs. And every year of wise and just legislation, and of extended education, will make democracy a safer form of government. There is also an aristocratic element in our system of great value and efficiency, yet very little thought of: we mean the non-payment of members of Parliament. This peculiarity of our constitution makes our representatives a comparatively aristocratic bcdy, by keeping men out of the House who, if they were paid, would get themselves elected merely in order to earn their wages. It is our belief that the payment of members would endanger our existing constitution more than even universal suffrage could. We have not yet spoken of the ballot. This question is one to which most exaggerated importance has been attached. It is described as the panacea for intimidation and corruption. We doubt whether it would prevent either; and the notion that secret voting would prevent corruption means simply thisthat a corrupt voter becomes incorrupt when no one will bribe him, for want of being able to see whether he keeps his bargain or not! Can those who use such an argument reflect on what it means? or do they believe in political virtue? So far as intimidation and corruption are curable, their cure is to be found in large constituencies, which are more public-spirited, and more difficult to bully or to buy, than small ones; and when that remedy has been applied, we shall hear no more of the ballot. But while we speak of building, let us not forget to think of the materials with which we build. Governments are nothing without men. The best constitution is worthless without good constituencies. Far better than any Reform Act would be a more enlightened and patriotic spirit among the people. The subject of Parliamentary Reform, important as it unquestionably is, sinks into insignificance beside the great question of Education. VICTOR HUGO. "Alors, dans Bésançon, vieille ville espagnole THE literary or poetic world has, like the political one, its inevitable transformations. But the same causes which change the face of society, do not work changes in literature. It is not, therefore, quite correct to say that the literature of a country is at all times an exact representation of the state, feelings, or aspirations of its people. French history and French "literature can best be cited to prove the truth of this statement, for none other so well exemplify the wonders wrought by change. Literature and poesy have often lived, and it may be, even flourished, when society has repudiated or proscribed them. Never were the folly and fana VICTOR HUGO, Feuilles d'Automne. ticism of the Terrorists so glaring, as when they refused the great Lavoisier a short respite from the guillotine to enable him to complete some experiments in which he was engaged. “The republic has no need of chemistry," was the brutal reply to his request. He might have answered with far greater truth, that chemistry had no need of the republic. And so also literature, which had been bandaged, straitlaced, rendered pompous, formal, and precise, by the encyclopodists under the old régime, lived through the stormy period which elapsed between the assembling of the constituent assembly and the establishment of the consulate, and even, with some rare exceptions, perpetuated itself to the last days of the empire. So long as the negative work of destruction is going on, poetry, which lives upon belief and affirmation, remains dormant like a chrysalis ; but when the trowel supersedes the axe and the sabre, it breaks its shell, and issues forth, some may think not more beautiful, but at least renewed, transformed, and certainly different. 66 Were Racine to present his tragedy, Berenice, or Brittannicus," to the managers of the Theâtre Français at the present day, there can hardly be a doubt that it would be refused, or if accepted, have but a very quiet success. Some of the élite amongst the audience would doubtless admire its flowing and melodious versification, its bright flashes and dazzling contrasts of love and hate, and the profound knowledge of the human heart which it displays; but the crowd, which always sees with the eyes and judges with the understanding of its own age, would remain cold and impassible in the presence of a dramatic machinery and development of passions foreign to its instincts, to its ideas, and manners. If we are asked why is this change, and how do we account for it, we reply by asking, why is the France of Louis Napoleon so unlike the France of Louis XIV. We do not mean it to be understood from these remarks that in our opinion Victor Hugo has attained the summit of perfection in the dramatic art. Far from it. There are many, very many things in all his works which few people out of France would admire. There is a flippancy even in French passion which prevents its expressing itself in language which can be understood and felt in every land and through all time, and Hugo is not exempt from the failings of his countrymen. We wish merely to give at the outset of our sketch an idea of the difficulty there is in passing sentence of praise or condemnation upon his works, when there is in France no generally recognized standard of excellence to compare them with. What is hailed with enthusiasm in one age, is flat, stale, and unprofitable in another. Literature and literary criticism have had their changes as well as the government; and though, perhaps, not so frequent or so violent, they have been quite as radical. Hugo, then, comes before us as a poet sui generis, not to be judged by those who precede him, but by the contemporary opinions of his countrymen, so far as foreigners like us can enter into and appreciate them. Victor Marie Hugo was born at Besançon, on the 26th of February, 1802. His father, Sigismond Hugo, then a colonel, was one of the first of the republican volunteers, and his mother the daughter of a shipowner at Nantes, a Vendean both by birth and feelings, a fugitive for five years across the Bocage, was, as Victor himself says, a brigande like Madame de Bonchamp and Madame de Larochejacquelin. This double origin, while it enlarged the range of his sympathies, also enlarged the source of his inspirations, by linking him, as it were, at the same time both to the past and the future-to the great thoughts of the one and the great deeds of the other. "A l'empereur tombé dressant dans l'ombre un temple, Aimant la liberté pour ses fruits, pour ses fleurs, Le trône pour son droit, le roi pour ses malheurs, Fidèle enfin au sang qu' ont versé dans ma veine Mon père vieux soldat, ma mere Vendéenne." Born in the camp, in the most glorious days of the empire, Victor Hugo's infancy was spent in wandering, filled with those varied and fertile emotions, which account for his singular poetic precocity, and made his temperament that mélange of sentimentality which has procured for him in France the appellation of ame de cristal. He was truly a child of the regiment. From south to north he followed with his father and mother Napoleon's giant steps. At the age of five years he had passed from Besan çon to Elba, from Elba to Paris, from Paris to Rome, had traversed Italy, sojourned at Naples, had played at the foot of Vesuvius, and perhaps many a time was startled by the carbine shots of Fra Diavolo, the poetic brigand, whom his father, at that time governor of the province of Avellino, pursued across the mountains of Calabria. In 1809 he returned to France in company with his mother and his two brothers, Abel and Eugène. It was then only that he began to receive education from books. Two years of play and pleasure under his mother's care, rolled over his head in the old convent of the Feuillantines, the re |