It is the purpose of this essay to explain the background and nature of proctorial representation and plural voting in the early Tudor period; to deter-mine the extent of absenteeism and proctorial representation in the House of Lords during the reign of Henry VIII; to single out and briefly discuss the principal procurators in the upper house; and to demonstrate how the Crown utilized and perfected the proxy system to manage the House of Lords. Just as an earlier essay dealt with the origin and evolution of proctorial representation in pre-Tudor times, so subsequent articles covering the late Tudor and Stuart periods will follow in due time.

The history of the intendants, so important to the understanding of France during the latter two centuries of the ancien régime, remains unwritten. There are of course particular studies of various great intendants of Louis XIV and of Louis XV, but the institution as a whole remains astonishingly ill-known, and this is especially true of its early years. Gabriel Hanotaux did make a brave attempt in 1884 to work out the Origines de l'institution des intendants des provinces, but his arguments have been severely criticized by subsequent writers, whose strictures have most recently been summarized by Roger Doucet in Les institutions de la France au XVIe siècle. As Doucet points out, the source-material used by Hanotaux was limited to a few Parisian manuscripts and, for the reign of Henri IV, essentially to the Lettres Missives of that king. For the reign of Henri III, Doucet adds, his work is weak in that he ignores the increase in the traditional chevauchées (tours of inspection) of the maîtres des requêtes, surely one of the most suggestive of early institutions in our present context. This in turn springs from a more basic weakness, that of using only a titular and not a functional definition for his subject; in refusing to consider any officers other than those who actually held the title intendant (usually de justice). Doucet himself does not carry the investigation any further for, as he remarks, the only way to do this would be by undertaking a series of studies in local archives.

Traditionally, the first English Reform Act has been conceived within the context of two discreet but overlapping models. Both separately and together these models have performed two important functions. They have provided a means of defining the nature and dynamics of the Act itself by relating certain of its crucial provisions to certain aspects of the pre-reform constituency structure. They have also provided a means of relating the Act as a whole—and as thus defined—to the general course of British history in the nineteenth century, to the general problems of explaining how Britain was transformed from an aristocracy to a democracy, from a rural and agri-cultural society to an urban and industrial one, from a Gemeinschaft to a Gesellschaft.

Ever since the First World War, but especially during the Weimar period, Bismarck's dismissal has exercised a strong attraction on German historians, and has probably received more attention than any other event in the history of the Second Reich. In the troubled post-war years, 20 March 1890 seemed to stand out prominently as the fateful turning point of Germany's history. Wilhelm Schvissler, the first to exploit the unprecedented wealth of evidence available in consequence of the monarchy's collapse, did not hesitate to claim that ‘even at that time [1890] the downfall (Untergang) of the German Reich was written in the stars’. ‘Who would doubt’, he asked, ‘that our misfortune began there…and led to the catastrophe of the Imperial Monarchy and the German Reich—exactly 20 years after his [Bismarck's] death!’ This highly emotional approach to the subject was fully shared by Wilhelm Mommsen, whose standard work on the role of the political parties in the crisis appeared in 1924. Bismarck's fall, he wrote, ‘appears to us today as a turning point of German history, and it is only with deep feeling that we can recall the events of March 1890’. It is perhaps partly for this reason that these early writers tended to misinterpret the nature of Bismarck's relations with the parties in the crucial months before his fall. There was, for one thing, an inclination to idealize the bygone age in which ‘the State’ was thought to have stood incorruptibly ‘above the parties’, and as a result the party struggles of 1889 and 1890 were relegated to a self-contained compartment whence, it was held, they were able to influence the course of events only in the negative sense of providing no obstacle to the chancellor's dismissal. The influential work of Hans Rothfels probably typified this attitude, but even Mommsen warned his readers that his study of the parties could throw at best an oblique light on the crisis ‘since the parties had no direct and at any rate no significant effect on the course of those events’. According to Hans Herzfeld's summary of the present state of knowledge on the subject, this view is still widely accepted today.

By the end of the nineteenth century the British Cabinet system was still distinguished by autonomy among the great departments of state. It was especially true of the War Office and the Admiralty. The claim has sometimes been made that coherence in the making of naval and military policy was finally achieved with the Committee of Imperial Defence after its formation in 1903. J. P. Mackintosh has shown that the claim can no longer be sustained, that War Office and Admiralty continued to form their separate plans with little or no direction from the C.I.D. They could have been induced to co-operate on the highest level only through pressure from the Cabinet and the prime minister. Neither Campbell-Bannerman nor Asquith took much interest in defence, and while Arthur Balfour did, yet he lacked the qualities of an effective administrator.‘He did not turn to the departments and insist that the conclusions of the Committee should be the basis on which they worked.’

By bringing the Botha-Smuts ministry to power in 1907, the ‘Vereeniging Het Volk’ (the ‘People's Union’) restored supremacy in the Transvaal to the Boers, less than five years after a war fought with the avowed object of wresting that supremacy from them. One might argue that, given the grant of self-government, this achievement owed less to the organizing techniques of Het Volk as a party, than to the numerical strength and the cohesion of the Boers as a community; but even so, the importance of Het Volk would be established as the expression, at the level of a political party, of these social facts. Coming into existence alongside other parties, before the introduction of self-government, Het Volk helped ensure that under the new constitution a fully fledged party system would function from the beginning.