As full as it is--like all broad, honest expressions, of human shortcomings and of things that are soon to be stopped, it does remain to be said that business, in a huge, rough way, daily expressing the crowds as far as they have got--the best in them and the worst in them, is, after all, their most faithful and true record, their handwriting. Business is the crowds' autograph--its huge, slow, clumsy signature upon our world. Buying and selling is the life blood of the crowds' thought, its big, brutal daily confiding to us of its view of human life. What do the crowds, poor and rich, really believe about life? Property is the last will and testament of Crowds. The man-sorting that goes on in distributing and producing property is the Crowd's most unremitting, most normal, temperamental way of determining and selecting its most efficient and valuable leaders--its men who can express it, and who can act for it. This is the first reason I would give against letting the people rely on having a House of Commons compel business men to be good. Men who meet now and again during the year, afternoons or evenings, who have been picked out to be at the top of the nation's talking, by a loose absent-minded and illogical paper-process, cannot expect to control men who have been picked out to be at the top of a nation's buying and selling, by a hard-working, closely fitting, logical process--the men that all the people by everything they do, every day, all day, have picked out to represent them. Any chance three blocks of Oxford Street could be relied on to do better. Keeping the polls open once in so often, a few hours, and using hearsay and little slips of paper--anybody dropping in--seems a rather fluttery and uncertain way to pick out the representatives of the people, after one has considered three blocks of Oxford Street. The next thing the crowd is going to do in getting what it wants from business men is to deal directly with the business men themselves and stop feeling, what many people feel partly from habit, perhaps, that the only way the crowd can get to what it wants is to go way over or way back or way around by Robin Hood's barn or the House of Commons. But there is a second reason: The trouble is not merely in the way men who sit in the House of Commons are selected. The real deep-seated trouble with the men who sit in the House of Commons is that they like it. The difficulty (as in the American Congress too) seems to be something in the men themselves. It lies in what might be called, for lack of a better name, perhaps, the Hem and Haw or Parliament Temperament.