in the colony, and put
them into the second assembly. But thus the popular assembly was left
without those best men. The popular assembly was denuded of those
guides and those leaders who would have led and guided it best. Those
superior men were put aside to talk to one another, and perhaps dispute
with one another; they were a concentrated instance of high but
neutralised forces. They wished to do good, but they could do nothing.
The Lower House, with all the best people in the colony extracted, did
what it liked. The democracy was strengthened rather than weakened by
the isolation of its best opponents in a weak position. As soon as
experience had shown this, or seemed to show it, the theory that two
chambers were essential to a good and free Government vanished away.

With a perfect Lower House it is certain that an Upper House would be
scarcely of any value. If we had an ideal House of Commons perfectly
representing the nation, always moderate, never passionate, abounding
in men of leisure, never omitting the slow and steady forms necessary
for good consideration, it is certain that we should not need a higher
chamber. The work would be done so well that we should not want any one
to look over or revise it. And whatever is unnecessary in Government is
pernicious. Human life makes so much complexity necessary that an
artificial addition is sure to do harm: you cannot tell where the
needless bit of machinery will catch and clog the hundred needful
wheels; but the chances are conclusive that it will impede them some
where, so nice are they and so delicate. But though beside an ideal
House of Commons the Lords would be unnecessary, and therefore
pernicious, beside the actual House a revising and leisured legislature
is extremely useful, if not quite necessary.

At present the chance majorities on minor questions in the House of
Commons are subject to no effectual control. The nation never attends
to any but the principal matters of policy and State. Upon these it
forms that rude, rough, ruling judgment which we call public opinion;
but upon other things it does not think at all, and it would be useless
for it to think. It has not the materials for forming a judgment: the
detail of bills, the instrumental part of policy, the latent part of
legislation, are wholly out of its way. It knows nothing about them,
and could not find time or labour for the careful investigation by
which alone they can be apprehended. A casual