as if it were obviously true, that the sovereign power should simply sum up the opinions of its multitudinous component atoms. How many people would you meet between Temple Bar and Charing Cross who have any real opinion whatever, if 'opinion' implies any process of reasoning? They have blind instincts, no doubt, and strong feelings; but by what chemistry can the vague mass of ignorance and prejudice be transmuted into political wisdom? If 'stupidity' were enough, we should be in no difficulty. We have stupidity—massive, stolid stupidity—in superabundance. That is a great fact. But if stupidity is to be harmless, it must be a stupidity conscious of its own defects. Bagehot's pert French journalist was an adept in using the phrases to take the place of thought, and enable fools to think themselves philosophers. They took phrases for ideas; and cast aside not only the traditional maxims, but the practical wisdom really embodied in the tradition. English 'stupidity' went with docility, 'deferential' habits of mind, and therefore willingness to trust a select few. Bagehot argued in a very able article upon the 'unreformed Parliament' how, with all its abuses, it had more or less encouraged this invaluable tendency. The
