“From the Witan of the Angles and the Saxons, through a feudal hierarchy to Magna Charta, through the provisions of Oxford, the Model Parliament of Edward I., by the rise in political privileges by the Towns, by Merchant gild and Craft gild, by the Good Parliament of 1376, by the relentless rebukes of Richard in the Merciless Parliament, by reason of popular censure and the eloquence of common men as with John Ball and the revolts of 1380, in the insurrection of Wat Tyler--followed as it was by shameless, mad ventures--through Wickliff, by the glories of the Tudors, the overthrow of the Stuarts, by Pym, Hampden, Cromwell, by William of Orange, by parliamentary reform and legislative extension--from the first glimmerings of civic life, to the light of the modern day, this nation has grown in strength, in reason, in the deliberate purpose of holding even the scales of Justice. “But, sir, with new positions, new prospects, new opportunities in illimitable areas of expansion, we enter upon undreamed of material enlargements. A greater London will, in the coming centuries appear, in which through the phase of exaltation we shall assume, will be seen the Miracle of Time, in which all we have learned, the highest technical skill, our loftiest constructive, creative mind will be realized. “The social power, the redemptive agencies, the final product of his thought, aspirations, skill, will be incorporated in this City of Man for men--the City of the Future--and it will be ours--all ours--_London rediviva, London redux, London sempieterna, et ne plus ultra_. A greater England shall be gathered within its walls. It will hold our sanctified patriotism, our emancipated reason, our ennobled, disciplined applied science, the embodyment of our imagination, and to its doors the world will gather, too, in fealty, in trust, in homage. “‘O et praesidium et dulce decus meum.’” The voice ceased, the speaker dropped dumbly into his seat, and for an instant, held his hands over features convulsed with feeling. The surprising thing then was--the awful silence, the deadness of that living, throbbing, almost frantic audience, who looking out upon a blackness of uncertainty felt the happy past, radiant with ease and fame, ceremonial and cultured luxury, slipping out of their possession forever, and uttered no sound. The Speaker of the House rose; there was a shifting of heads, the rustle of turning bodies, a simultaneous orientation, but no other sound, and Leacraft scanned the multitude more. Again the portentous silence; the Speaker with quite unusual ardor alluded to the imposing power and beauty of the speech, and put the motion.