which, says an eye-witness, 'there has been the greatest and sorest
hold in the Lower House,' 'the matter debated and beaten'; 'such hold
that the House was like to have been dissevered'; in a word, hard
fighting--and why not honest fighting?--between the court party and
the Opposition, 'which ended,' says Mr. Hallam, 'in the court party
obtaining, with the utmost difficulty, a grant much inferior to the
Cardinal's original requisition.' What token of servility is here?

And is it reasonable to suppose that after Wolsey was conquered, and
a comparatively popular ministry had succeeded, and that memorable
Parliament of 1529 (which Mr. Froude, not unjustly, thinks more
memorable than the Long Parliament itself) began its great work with
a high hand, backed not merely by the King, but by the public opinion
of the majority of England, their decisions are likely to have been
more servile than before? If they resisted the King when they
disagreed with him, are they to be accused of servility because they
worked with him when they agreed with him? Is an Opposition always
in the right; a ministerial party always in the wrong? Is it an
offence against the people to agree with the monarch, even when he
agrees with the people himself? Simple as these questions are, one
must really stop to ask them.

No doubt pains were often taken to secure elections favourable to the
Government. Are none taken now? Are not more taken now? Will any
historian show us the documents which prove the existence, in the
sixteenth century, of Reform Club, Carlton Club, whippers-in and
nominees, governmental and opposition, and all the rest of the
beautiful machinery which protects our Reformed Parliament from the
evil influences of bribery and corruption? Pah!--We have somewhat
too much glass in our modern House to afford to throw stones at our