coal in the domestic fireplace, and contends that it might be supplied for this purpose at a price which would make its use economical. His own experience is in favour of gas stoves, so arranged that at first sight they cannot be distinguished from an ordinary coal fire; and he says that if he had gas in all his rooms he could do with one servant less in his household. He adds that gas fires can be fitted to existing grates, and points out their enormous advantages in a sick room, to give a constant temperature by day and night, and by which the noise of poking the fire and putting on coals is entirely avoided. Dr. Carpenter's proposal of an impost upon badly constructed fireplaces in private houses is, for the present at least, inadmissible. Hearthmoney was always a hateful tax, and would not now be tolerated even in the interests of health and economy. Other matters of scientific value are discussed by him, but these references are intended to deal solely with the more practical parts of a most useful paper. Mr. Rollo Russell, in his recently published pamphlet on London fogs, truly shows that artificial London smoke, without any natural fog to combine with, is alone sufficient to occasion great darkness in London, and, of course, it is alone sufficient to produce all the dirt of which we have to complain. A stratum of smoke may form in the upper region of the atmosphere, and then act as a thick pall to intercept the rays of the sun, which may at the time be shining quite brightly in the open country, beyond the reach of metropolitan smoke. This phenomenon of smoke without fog may be sometimes seen at Brighton, when the wind blows from the shore and the smoke of the town is carried out to the sea, over which it is flung for miles like a black and dismal banner, blotting the bright sky of that naturally sunny place. So, as Mr. Russell remarks, may the long line of smoke from its funnels be seen lingering in the track of a steamer long after it has passed; and in the country the smoke from a cottage chimney, on a still day, will form a flat cloud in its neighbourhood. Mr. Russell also shows that the climate of the country regions surrounding London is now injuriously affected by London smoke. Richmond is not now what it used to be, but is invaded by smoke; and once, after two days of north-east wind, he counted one hundred and six particles of soot on a square inch of snow in Richmond Park. Mr. Russell's personal observations of London fogs are very interesting and valuable; and he dwells with much force and sympathy upon the deleterious influence of London smoke upon the poorer classes, who have not even the resource of occasional escape from it into the purer air of the country. The lecture delivered at the Society of Arts in January last, by Mr. W. D. Scott Moncrieff, was too remarkable not to be here mentioned. It contained the outline of a vast and ingenious scheme by which all the coal to be consumed in London should be rendered smokeless. By the aid of the gas companies, it is proposed that smokeless coke shall become the universal fuel of the future; but that the coal, from which the coke results, shall not be so far deprived of its inflammable gas as to render the coke also incapable of burning with a flame. Mr. Scott Moncrieff estimates that four millions of tons of coal are annually consumed in the house fireplaces of London, together with two millions of coals which are reduced to coke in the process of extracting gas from them by the gas companies; and these four millions of tons of coal would form a square rectangular solid mass with a base of about 200 yards, and a height of the cross on St. Paul's Cathedral. He proposes that all this coal should be used for making gas, and should therefore pass through the retorts and gasometers of the companies; and this, it is affirmed, would double the illuminating power of the gas supplied, and also double the commercial value to the companies of the residual product, besides saving the value to the public of the present yearly loss of fuel which escapes unconsumed from the fireplaces of London in the shape of smoke, which he calculates at over two million pounds sterling. This is indeed a gigantic proposal, but even if the gas companies were tempted to undertake its reduction to practice, the questions would have to be asked, whether the space at their disposal would admit of such an extension of their operations, and suffice for placing additional apparatus for the manufacture of gas, or still more for the storage of the whole coal supplies of London, and of the resulting coke, the enormous quantities of which have been just now indicated; and whether such a monopoly, and such an interference with existing interests, are likely to be allowed. The simple practical remark may also be made, that the result of a hot fire without smoke, but with flame, may be at present easily obtained by a judicious mixture of bituminous coal and of the ordinary coke as now sold by the gas companies. The object now in view is to try to explain what are the practical bearings of the great smoke question, and especially to point out that the great source of the existing evil is the domestic fireplace, to which it will be difficult, if not impossible, to apply any legislative coercion or control. But an attempt has been made to show that without any, or with but little, alteration in existing grates, much may be done to abate the mischief, if only attention is given to enforcing the precepts of common sense, and by making the best use of our existing means, and the simple precautions within the reach of all. If every householder will learn the art of laying, lighting, and replenishing a fire, and will impress the necessity of knowing it upon all the members of his family by example and instruction, and will bring, if necessary, some pressure to bear upon the enforcement of the right thing to be done, some advance will be made while we are waiting for more complete and scientific remedies. The gain would be great if we could only get rid of a quarter of the present amount of smoke. Twenty-five per cent. would be a diminution well worth struggling for; fifty per cent. would be a vast improvement indeed, and there need be no despair of this much at least being achieved. We are engaged in a war with the powers of darkness, and it is a contest for life, health, and happiness, for the vigorous prosecution of which it is worth while to take a good deal of pains, to incur some trouble, and to go to some expense-and it need not be great expense-in modifying old grates. It is indeed, in Roman phrase, a fight pro aris et focis,' but one in which, unfortunately, the domestic hearth is often found ranged as an enemy, and in rebellion against the interests of the household gods. There is, however, happily no fixed reason why London should be the murky place it so often is. At early morning, before the fires are lighted, the atmosphere is as clear as that of Paris. Legislators returning home from a long sitting of their house, and all who are either out late or up early, may still look upon a London as fair as that which Wordsworth gazed on from Westminster Bridge, when he 'saw it all bright and glittering in the smokeless air.' To restore the air of London to its natural purity, to diminish the present amount of preventible disease and death, to bring back the roses to the cheeks of the London children, and to the London parks and gardens, to prevent our buildings, our pictures and other works of art, our libraries, and all our belongings, from destruction and filthy defilement by the soot-demon, is an object surely worth as much energy and perseverance as we are capable of devoting to it. All must devoutly wish that the public efforts now being made towards the accomplishment of such objects may be crowned with early success. But it is on individual exertion that the triumph of the general and combined effort must ultimately depend. W. F. POLLOCK. THE STATE OF PARTIES. THE Condition of the House of Commons at the present moment can hardly be considered satisfactory by any one of the various parties which now sit within its walls. Of the two sections into which the Liberals are divided, neither can avoid the reflection that it occupies a false position. The Conservatives must feel that while the present distribution of forces remains unaltered they are deprived of their natural allies, and compelled to submit to representations of their own principles at the hands of both friend and foe which are damaging to their usefulness and popularity. The House, upon the whole, presents a scene of much confusion; and the impatience of party discipline which is visible on both sides finds its counterpart in that contempt for the authority of the House at large which actuates the workers of obstruction. If it is true in any sense that lookers-on see most of the game, the remarks of one, however humble, who has looked on at the game of politics for a good many years with deep interest may contain perhaps some particles of truth not wholly unworthy of consideration. Nothing is more frequently repeated by members of the Liberal party, whenever reference is made to its alleged want of unanimity, than that such must necessarily be looked for in a party constituted like their own. Freedom of thought, they say, is of the essence of Liberalism; discord, not harmony, is its vital principle; it must have room in which to speculate and expatiate— As far as may be to carve out Without this independence, this free play of idiosyncrasy, it would cease to be Liberalism; and it is useless, therefore, to complain of a characteristic which makes the thing to be what it is. If it sometimes places the party at a disadvantage in conflict with a more united and homogeneous antagonist, this is more than counterbalanced by the superior breadth and vigour which it imparts to their counsels and their policy. But it seems to us that those who use this language habitually overlook a distinction which materially affects the value of this peculiar virtue. The Liberal party is an equivocal term in this country. It may mean either one of the organs of Parliamentary government: a body of gentlemen whose business it is to assist the ministers of the Crown in the transaction of necessary business, and at the same time to watch over the interest of certain recognised political principles; or it may mean one whole division of the nation outside of Parliament, which, with certain watchwords and certain aspirations in common, is subdivided into numberless groups or sects each with its particular chief, roaming freely over the whole expanse of political and religious thought, and owning little or no allegiance to any one general system or supreme lord. In this sense of the word no political party can wear the harness and submit to the discipline, the silence, and the subordination which are necessary to Parlia mentary efficiency; and it is mainly because Liberals are so slow to recognise this truth, and will persist in fancying that the Liberal party in the House of Commons must be just what it is out of it, that the anomaly is prolonged to which we are about to call attention. The party, in the second of these two senses, is of comparatively recent growth; it belongs to an age of speculation; it is necessarily hostile to restraint, privilege, or tradition. The country is large enough to hold it: the House of Commons is not. The same quality which constitutes its strength in the one, constitutes its weakness in the other. Hence it has followed that this great outside party, by the necessities of its position, has come to be dually represented in the Lower Chamber; informally, unconsciously, gradually, but really and effectively. The theory to which old-fashioned politicians still so fondly cling, namely, that the Liberal party in the nation is represented by a party in Parliament exactly as the Conservative party in the nation is represented by a party in Parliament, no longer works. It is, in fact, obliged to be represented by two if not more parties. And this, in our opinion, has led by degrees to a very serious derangement of the whole political machine, amounting almost to an inversion of the rule by which it is supposed to be conducted. Parliamentary government is supposed to be government by majorities. But government by majorities becomes impossible, unless there is a clear preponderance in the House of those who think alike, and can be relied upon to act alike, on all important questions. With three parties we tend towards government by minorities. It is idle to maintain that this has always been to some extent the case; and that cliques and coteries have always existed in Parliament aspiring to hold the balance between the two great parties, and to give the victory to either according to the exigencies of the moment. There have been such cliques, of course; but they belong to a period of our history when the conditions of Parliamentary warfare were totally different, and when manœuvres of this kind had no material or lasting effect on first principles of policy. Nobody would dream of calling the |