land five hundred people
whose incomes exceeded L5,000 a year. The landed class was typically the
rich class of the country. The condition of things since then has in
this respect been reversed. During the sixty years succeeding the battle
of Waterloo business incomes exceeding L5,000 a year had increased
numerically in the proportion of one to eight, while since that time the
increase has been still more rapid. On the other hand, not only has the
number of the large agricultural landlords shown no increase whatever,
but since the year 1880 or thereabouts their aggregate rental has
suffered an actual decrease, having fallen in the approximate proportion
of seventy to fifty-two. This shrinkage in the fortunes of the old
landed families, except those who were owners of minerals or land near
towns, and the multiplication of families newly enriched by business,
were, when I first knew London, proceeding at a rate which had never
been known before. It was, however, slow in comparison with what it has
since become, and the old landed families, at the time to which I am now
alluding, still retained much of their old prestige and power, as is
shown by the fact that the leaders of both political parties were still
mainly drawn from the limited class in question. It is shown with even
greater clearness by facts more directly presenting themselves to the
eye of the ordinary observer.

One of these is the aspect which thirty years ago was presented by Hyde
Park during the season at certain hours of the day. Thirty years ago,
for an hour or two before luncheon and dinner, its aspect was that of a
garden party, for which, indeed, no invitations were necessary, but on
which as a fact few persons intruded who would have been visibly out of
place on the lawn of Marlborough House. To-day this ornamental
assemblage has altogether disappeared, and its place has been gradually
taken by a miscellaneous crowd without so much as a trace even of
spurious fashion left in it. Thirty years ago Piccadilly in June was a
vision of open carriages brilliant with flowerlike parasols,
high-stepping horses, and coachmen, many of whom still wore wigs. To-day
these features have been submerged by a flow of unending omnibuses which
crowds fight to enter or from which they struggle to eject themselves.
Fashionable hotels have succumbed to the same movement. Of such hotels
thirty years ago the most notable were commonly described as
"private"--a word which imp