That is satisfactory enough so far as words go. But history is full of the solemn pledges of Sovereigns to respect constitutions, which they have shown no compunction in overturning. Besides, it may be asked, what is the King's idea of the Constitution to which he vows his fidelity?

The answer to the latter question is simple and obvious. King George's conception of the Constitution is the conception with which Queen Victoria has familiarized the world. Queen Victoria was a Constitutional monarch, who revived the Monarchy, and restored it to its proper place in the British Constitution. She established on the decaying wreck of the Monarchy of Authority, the solid fabric of the Monarchy of Influence.

The Victorian theory of the place of the Crown in the Constitution was accepted by Edward VII., but his brief reign afforded but few opportunities of showing how the Monarchy of Influence would fare under so genial a man of pleasure as the late Sovereign. George the Fifth will apply the Victorian theory-nay, has already applied it-on strictly Victorian lines. He is himself a Victorian. He has revived the simplicity of the early Victorian Court, and he faithfully observes the traditions of the great Queen.

Victoria, although the most Constitutional of Sovereigns, was one of the most punctilious of monarchs. Ready to yield to her Ministers when she had no alternative, she never hesitated to maintain her own opinions, and to strive to give effect to her own convictions, whenever opportunity offered. But she always observed the rules of the great game.

What are these rules? The British Sovereign may use his influence to the uttermost to persuade his Ministers to adopt a policy which he favors, but which they dislike. But if persuasion, argument, and all the potent influences

any Tom,

that can be put in motion fail to overcome the resistance of his Ministers, the Sovereign must, if confronted by a unanimous Cabinet, obey as an automaton the counsels which they tender him. From this submission there is only one way of escape. If the Sovereign is advised to do what he considers pernicious to the realm by one set of Ministers, he can dispense with their services, and summon another Ministry, who will advise him to follow the policy on which his heart is set. He cannot summon Dick and Harry to the Council board. It is a condition absolute that the new Ministry must be able to obtain from the existing House of Commons the supplies necessary for the service of the State, or, if this be impossible, that they have a reasonable chance of obtaining a majority in a new House of Commons, which must be immediately brought into being. Failing the possibility of securing an alternative Ministry, with a majority in the actual or a prospective House of Commons, the Sovereign becomes, for the moment and for the immediate purpose in hand, an irresponsible automaton, registering without volition the decree of his indispensable irreplaceable Ministers.

That is the Victorian theory as Victoria worked it. Loyally abiding by the rules of the great game, she contended valiantly for her own views, opinions, and prejudices, so long as she had a fighting chance of getting her own way. But when the game was up, she accepted her defeat like a good sportswoman, acquiesced, if not gladly yet loyally, in the automatic registration of her people's will, and was ready for a new struggle on a fresh issue next day. As Victoria was, so George V. is. He will be not less stubborn, not less argumentative, not less keen to press his own views and to promote the policy which he deems

best for the realm; but he will abide by the rules of the game, of which the dominant is this: "The Sovereign becomes an automatic registration machine when he is unable to find an alternative Ministry."

The King succeeded to the throne when the two Houses of Parliament were in collision. He had to deal with a Liberal Ministry fresh from a General Election, pledged to reduce the Peers to the position of subordination in the legislature which they had held in fact for the last eighty years. The lists were open, and the combat was raging, when Death imposed a truce. The King was therefore confronted at the very threshold of his reign with a great opportunity. Would he seize it or would he not? The opportunity was that of proposing to the leaders of the two opposing parties that they should meet for the purpose of ascertaining whether it was possible to compose their differences and settle the Constitutional crisis on no-party lines. The secrets of the Royal Chamber are well kept; but it was believed, probably with truth. that the King had determined to advise his advisers to take such a step. That conviction probably precipitated the resolution of Mr. Asquith to anticipate the Royal counsel, and to meet the King with an announcement that he had himself taken the initiative, and that a Round Table Conference had been arranged. The King had therefore no need to intervene. His wish had been obeyed before it had been formally expressed.

During the prolonged sittings of the abortive Conference the King had no opportunity to express his opinion.

It

was well known that he sincerely desired a successful issue to its deliberations, and that no one was more grieved than his Majesty when the irreconcilable attitude of the Peers rendered agreement impossible.

But although all hope of compromise

was impossible, the King desired that the Peers should have a full opportunity of formally placing on record their final decision on the matter. If the Hereditary House was to disappear the thing should be done decently and in order. The Peers did not avail themselves of their respite, and the crisis came to a head.

Then Mr. Asquith approached the King and demanded the dissolution of Parliament, in order that the electors might finally decide between the two parties on the great issue. No public statement has been made as to what passed on that momentous interview. But it needs no seer to describe the nature of the communications which passed between the King and his Prime Minister. Mr. Asquith had declared in the most explicit manner that he would not ask for a dissolution except on the clear and distinct understanding that if the nation gave a verdict in his favor, the will of the people must be carried into effect. In plain English, this meant that if the Liberals came back with a sufficient majority, the Royal prerogative would be exercised automatically in overriding the resistance of the Peers.

For King George this was the crucial moment. It was within his right to dismiss Mr. Asquith and to call Mr. Balfour to his counsels. He did not exercise that right. Why he did not do so has never been stated. But whether it was because he had ascertained that Mr. Balfour would not take the responsibility of attempting to carry on the Government, even for the few weeks before the dissolution, in face of a hostile majority, or whether he thought that under the Constitution he would have been straining the prerogative had he refused the request of his Ministers to refer the question at issue to the decision of the electors, or whether other considerations may have dictated his decision, the fact is

clear. After a brief but painful period of hesitation and indecision, in which the King recoiled from giving the definite and formal answer which in case of a Liberal victory would compel bim automatically to give effect to the advice of Ministers, the King made up his mind to grant a dissolution and to accept all the consequences. The de

cision was not lightly made. The King did not for one moment blind himself as to its logical consequences. If he granted a dissolution he would in effect place his Royal prerogative in the hands of Mr. Asquith should the appeal to the country send that Minister back to power with a sufficient majority. If, on the other hand, the Opposition won the election, his course was clear. But there was an offchance that neither party would win a decisive victory. In that case the responsibility of deciding what should be done would again be placed in his hands. What he would have done in that contingency need not be discussed. But it is tolerably certain that he would have followed the example of Queen Victoria and used the influence of his high position to induce the leaders to bring the long controversy to a close by a policy of mutual compromise. The only thing certain is, that had such a crisis arisen, the King would not have hesitated to prove that the Crown was no mere cypher. but was the real balance-wheel of the State.

The King granted Mr. Asquith's demands for a dissolution on Mr. Asquith's terms, and loyally waited the result of the General Election. Probably no one waited the verdict of the polls with more anxiety than King George. If the result had been indecisive, he would have been face to face with one of these supreme opportunities which make or mar a Monarchy. If, on the other hand, the Coalition came back with a three

figure majority, the course of events would pass beyond his control. So far as this issue was concerned, he would sink at once into the position of an automaton, whose signature could either be withheld from the writs of summons of peers, whose only qualification was their hereditary rank, or could be affixed to patents of 500 new peerages, as Mr. Asquith directed. He might hate this automatic exercise of his prerogative by the Prime Minister; but the King is far too loyal to the Constitution, and far too good a sportsman to think of evading his obligations.

The moment the result of the General Election was declared, the King recognized his position. Another dissolution was out of the question. The Opposition could not furnish him an alternative Cabinet that could face the House of Commons for a single day. Not the overbearing arrogance of a usurping Minister, but the abject and hopeless impotence of the Opposition, reduced the King to the position of an obedient automaton in the hands of Mr. Asquith. That he did not like the position may be taken for granted; but there was no help for it. And to do the King justice, whether he liked it or disliked it, he never allowed his personal feelings to appear either in public or in private.

If he must for the nonce be an automaton by the inexorable law of the Constitution, King George has never allowed any one to perceive that the action of the automaton was not the free exercise of his own Royal will. Should the Peers persist in compelling the exercise of the Royal prerogative to enforce the will of the Commons, that prerogative will be exercised without tremor, or hesitation, or holding back. The King will play the great game, according to the strictest rules, loyally and royally to the end.

yond a peradventure or the shadow of a doubt, that the man whom we crown in June as our King brought to the throne a physique which no excess had weakened, a judgment ripened by wide experience, a character strengthened by disciplined self-control, and enriched by the faithful discharge of the duties and responsibilities of son, husband, and father. The new reign has started well.

All that is common ground. But it is sometimes worth saying things which everyone now takes for granted. Especially is this the case when the general impression of to-day so radically differs from that which prevailed so lately as the preceding year.

Let us now advance to attack the main problem. Admitted that the man is good, what manner of King will he be? Some good men have been very bad rulers. Of the third George, Byron said:

A better farmer ne'er brushed dew from lawn

Nor a worse monarch left a realm undone.

Will some future Byron have to paraphrase these lines about the fifth of the same name?

The history of one brief year affords us material for forming a tolerably safe estimate as to the ideas which dominate the mind of our new ruler. Hardly a day, certainly not a week, has passed since he came to the throne, in which George V. has not been summoned to stand and deliver a reply of some kind to the addresses of one or another section of his subjects, or to make public utterance on some subject of national or imperial concern. In the case of some kings it would be idle to look for any expression of individual conviction in the conventional commonplaces put into their mouths by their constitutional advisers or by private secretaries, inspired and limited by precedent. But with this King it is

different. Although not so flamboyant a rhetorician as the Kaiser, the public utterances of George V. are no less instinct with a clearly cut personality, expressing itself through the medium of a language which he handles as a master. Even when the block of his speeches has been rough hewn for him by his advisers, the King is ever particular, even punctilious, in shaping them to accord with his own instincts as to what is the right form, his own convictions as to the right spirit.

Anyone who takes the trouble to read consecutively the speeches and addresses, and replies to addresses of the first year of the reign, cannot help being impressed by the constant recurrence of one keynote, which has never been sounded with such consistent and persistent emphasis by any ruler of England since the days when the Lord Protector

Made his simple oaken chair More terrible and grandly beautifulMore full of majesty than any throneBefore or after of an English King.

The first time the King addressed his Council, on the morning after his accession, he was still crushed by the blow which, as he said, had bereaved him "not only of a father's love," but also of "the affectionate and intimate relations of a dear friend and adviser." In that first speech he referred to his confidence that he could rely upon the prayers of his subjects "that God will grant me strength and guidance." But it was not until May 22nd, when he addressed his first letter to his people, that the dominant keynote was clearly audible. After acknowledging the tribute paid to his father's memory, the King wrote:

With such thoughts, I take courage, and hopefully look into the future; strong in my faith in God, trusting my people, and cherishing the Laws and Constitution of my beloved country.

"Strong in my faith in God" is a phrase which is not merely a phrase in the King's mouth. In his letter to his People beyond the Seas, he declares his reliance upon "the good

guidance of the Ruler of all men." The same idea runs like a thread of gold through all his speeches. There is no arrogance of self-assertion such as sometimes causes us to wonder whether some mortal monarchs regard the Almighty as their lieutenant, but ever a humble consciousness of his inability to do anything without "God's help." In his reply to the address of the Society of Friends, the King said:

I echo with all my heart your prayers that God may ever guide myself and my advisers in grace and wisdom through the difficulties and perils of our course.

If ever he promises anything, it is always conditioned by the proviso,

The

With the help of Almighty God. There is a natural simplicity about this which distinguishes it both from conventionality and from cant. King lives ever in his Taskmaster's eye, accepting his duties as from his Master, and endeavoring from day to day to fulfil his responsibilities and discharge his obligations as one who must answer to his Maker who called him to his throne and will require from him the faithful account of his stewardship.

There is no affectation of philosophy about the King's religion. It is a sailor's faith, simple as that of a little child. Nor is there any need to seek far afield for the source of its inspiration. In his reply to the address of the Bible Society, on the centenary of the publication of the authorized version, the King expressed his sense of his own and his people's indebtedness to the Bible:

During three hundred years the multiplying millions of the English-speaking races, spreading ever more widely over the surface of the globe have turned in their need to the grand sim

plicity of the Authorized Version, and

have drawn upon its inexhaustible springs of wisdom and courage and joy. It is my confident hope, confirmed by the widespread interest your movement has aroused, that my subjects may never cease to cherish the noble inheritance in the English Bible which, in a secular aspect, is the first of national treasures, and is, as you truly say, in its spiritual significance, the most valuable thing that this world affords.

This, it may be said, is all very well, but it may be very dangerous. The Monarch who is convinced that he reigns by Divine right has often played a very evil part in history. The sense of responsibility to God has sometimes as its correlative a sense of irresponsibility to man, which harmonizes ill with the position of a Constitutional Monarch. Hence it is satisfactory to find that in all the King's utterances, the doctrine of his responsibility to his people is as clearly and as strongly accentuated as the doctrine of his dependence upon God.

If "strong in my faith in God" is the first note of the King's thought, the second is the expression immediately preceding it in his letter to his people. "I do not stand alone." He ever expresses and emphasizes his conviction that it is in the community of sentiment which makes him one with his subjects that his real strength lies. Mazzini's famous watchword for the democracy, "God and the People," is the King's also. If he is highly placed it is that he may be the servant of the lowly. His supreme responsibility to God is to "promote the welfare of His people."

Next to this constant recognition of the two great entities, God and the