genius on the throne, who might burst the constitutional withes. We should dread far more the appearance there of a popular philanthropist, who should enlist the personal devotion of the populace.
The condition, however, upon which all this power accretes to the sovereign seems to us to be work. As we view it, the gradual transformation of the kingship of which Mr. Gladstone speaks has not merely been the substitution of influence for power, but the substitution of a baton for a sceptre, — of a symbol, that is, which it requires effort to wield, for a symbol which expresses itself. An unpopular king might have great power in England, for he might have great weight upon the minds of her governing men. A Mr. Ayrton on the throne is quite conceivable, and would certainly be no lay-figure. A vicious king, if genial, might have power, for popularity and character are by no means quite so closely allied as moralists would wish. But an idle king would, we conceive, exercise very little power in Great Britain. A king who did not keep up a suffocating correspondence would soon find himself politically forgotten. A king who did not watch careers would at once lose his influence on politics. A king who did not study the information placed before him would soon find his remonstrances turned aside, or if he were troublesome as well as ignorant, would soon receive respectful representations telling him in humble language that the State coach must go on. The influence over the people might be given up, as it was never acquired by any of the Georges but the Third. The influence over society is not essential, and has, in fact, been surrendered by the reigning monarch under a passion for seclusion. But the habit of work — work in order not only to perform duty, but to retain weight — is indispensable, and it is this necessity of labour which seems to us likely to become the burden of the English kingship. A king must work, as a premier must work, or the throne will be what the essayist so justly argues it is not now, an illusion. What has departed from the throne is not influence, not even power, though power has to be exercised through a heavy resisting medium, but inherent force, the force which makes itself felt without exertion or effort, the force which in Asia and in Europe during genuinely monarchical times has resided in men as insensible as statues or as feeble as children. Reigning, as well as governing, has in England become a business, and like any other business, can suffer from fitful industry or neglect.
From The Pall Mall Gazette.
ITALY AND THE POPE.
The rumours that are heard from time to time of a reconciliation between the Papal and the Italian governments seem to be premature rather than untrue. It is so plainly to the interest of both powers to dwell together in unity that the idea is not likely to be long absent from the thoughts of one or other of them. The revolution which laid the foundation of Italian unity was eminently conservative in its tendencies. Occasionally, no doubt, it suited the purpose of the king or his ministers to make common cause with the Radicals, but on the whole they saw clearly enough that if the monarchy was to be retained there must be no irreparable breach with the Church. An alliance with the sworn enemies of the clergy would have united them to a party in whose ultimate aims the monarchy had no place. Whenever a decisive step in the direction of extending or consolidating the Italian kingdom had to be taken, it was taken without any regard to the feelings or opinions of the pope; and as often as these occasions occurred the Radical party allowed themselves to hope that the government had made a reconciliation impossible. But common interests have a strange power of drawing people together, even when events seem to have separated them past hope, and though the king and his ministers have been excommunicated, they have still contrived to live in decent harmony with the Italian bishops and clergy. The government cannot afford to alienate that large section of the population which regards political irreligion as closely allied to Communism. These people do not object to many things which the pope denounces. They have probably a secret conviction that the Church will be all the better for losing a large part of its wealth, and they are quite content that the pope should enjoy no greater independence than is secured to him by the law of guarantees. They do not say this openly, because they do not want to quarrel with their priest, and they know that their priest, though he may in his heart hold similar opinions, would be bound to rebuke them in the laity on pain of quarrelling with his bishop. But
