uld muster, but descended also from that
earlier Marquis of Tudor creation, who, when he was asked how in those
troublous times he succeeded in retaining the post of Lord High
Treasurer, replied, "By being a willow and not an oak." To-day the boot
is on the other leg.

The Earl of Shrewsbury, head of the Talbots, a race far famed alike in
camp and field from the days of the Plantagenets.

The Viscount Falkland, representative of that noble Cavalier who fell
at Newbury.

The Baron Mowbray and Segrave and Stourton, titles which carry us back
almost to the days of the Great Charter.

Nor does the feudal train end there. We see also a St. Maur, Duke of
Somerset, whose family has aged since in the time of Henry VIII. men
scoffed at it as new; a Clinton, Duke of Newcastle; a Percy, Duke and
heir of Northumberland, that name of high romance; a De Burgh, Marquis
of Clanricarde; a Lindsay, Earl of Crawford, twenty-sixth Earl, and
head of a house which for eight centuries has stood on the steps of
thrones; a Courtenay, Earl of Devon; an Erskine, Earl of Mar, an
earldom whose origin is lost in the mists of antiquity, and many
another.

And if we come to later days we have the Duke of Bedford, head of the
great Whig house of Russell; the Dukes of Marlborough and Westminster,
heirs of capacity and good fortune; Lords Bute and Salisbury,
descendants of Prime Ministers; and not only Lord Selborne, but Lords
Bathurst and Coventry, Hardwicke and Rosslyn, representatives of past
Lord Chancellors.

These, and others such as they, inheritors of traditions bred in their
very bones, spurning the suggestion that they should purchase the
uncontamination of the Peerage by the forfeiture of their principles,
fought the question to the end. If they asked for a motto, surely
theirs would have been, "Fais ce que dois, advienne que pourra."

And so we pass to the group who abstained, the great mass of the
Peerage, too proud to wrangle where they could not win, too wise to
knock their heads uselessly against a wall, too loyal not to do their
utmost to spare their King. More than three hundred followed Lord
Lansdowne's lead, taking for their motto, perhaps, the "Cavendo tutus"
of his son-in-law. And still there was fiery blood among them, and
strong men swelling with righteous indignation. There were Gay Gordons,
as well as a cautious Cavendish, an Irish Beresford to quicken a Dutch
Bentinck, and a Graham of Montrose as well as a Campbell of