the refusal as a temporary abdication on the
part of the sovereign, which vested the executive power in the two
Houses until new arrangements were made. When the Lords obstructed
public business, he warned them that obstruction would only force the
Commons "to save the kingdom alone." Revolutionary as these principles
seemed at the time, they have both been recognized as bases of our
constitution since the days of Pym. The first principle was established
by the Convention and Parliament which followed on the departure of
James the Second; the second by the acknowledgement on all sides since
the Reform Bill of 1832 that the government of the country is really in
the hands of the House of Commons, and can only be carried on by
ministers who represent the majority of that House.

[Sidenote: His political genius.]

It was thus that the work of Pym brought about a political revolution
greater than any that England has ever experienced since his day. But
the temper of Pym was the very opposite of the temper of a
revolutionist. Few natures have ever been wider in their range of
sympathy or action. Serious as his purpose was, his manners were genial
and even courtly; he turned easily from an invective against Strafford
to a chat with Lady Carlisle; and the grace and gaiety of his social
tone, even when the care and weight of public affairs were bringing him
to his grave, gave rise to a hundred silly scandals among the prurient
royalists. It was this striking combination of genial versatility with
a massive force in his nature which marked him out from the first moment
of power as a born ruler of men. He proved himself at once the subtlest
of diplomatists and the grandest of demagogues. He was equally at home
in tracking the subtle intricacies of royalist intrigues, or in kindling
popular passion with words of fire. Though past middle life when his
work really began, for he was born in 1584, four years before the coming
of the Armada, he displayed from the first meeting of the Long
Parliament the qualities of a great administrator, an immense faculty
for labour, a genius for organization, patience, tact, a power of
inspiring confidence in all whom he touched, calmness and moderation
under good fortune or ill, an immovable courage, an iron will. No
English ruler has ever shown greater nobleness of natural temper or a
wider capacity for government than the Somersetshire squire whom his
enemies, made clear-sighted by their hate,