A to provide a new house for the great council of the nation to meet and work in. On request from parliament, a royal commission had been appointed in 1835, to receive plans by open competition for the rebuilding of the houses. Out of more than ninety plans, four had been selected for further examination; and to choose among these was the business of the renewed committee of 1836. debate was raised by Mr Hume as to whether the site should not be exchanged for a spot more open and elevated-as, perhaps, St James's Palace and Marlborough House; but, besides that certain conveniences were connected with the old site, much property had been bought, and many houses pulled down, for the purpose of rebuilding on the same spot. The opinion of the committees of both Houses as to the choice of plan and architect, was made apparent in March by their proposal of an address to the king, to petition him to institute inquiries as to the probable expense of executing the plan of Mr Barry. It was considered a great day for art in England when such a work as this was thrown open to competition. Here was no despotism of rank or fame, in king or architect, to settle a matter in which the nation should have a share through its representatives; but, while the tribunal was as good a one as could have been found to meet all the needs of the case, its nature was a sort of invitation to the people to look upon the enterprise as business of their own, and learn from it, as we all do from enterprises of our own. It was worth the inconvenience and loss from the fire to give the nation such an exercise in art and the love of it as the erection of the palace of parliament. The cost has far exceeded expectation, and is still heavy; and it has occurred during a long period of distress; but it is hard to say how the money could have been better spent than on an object so noble, so truly expedient, so plainly extending its benefits into a far future, as the erection of a building which will be to a future age what our old abbeys and cathedrals are to us now. Mr Barry's plan appears to have put all others out of sight at once-admirable as some of them were declared to be. One of its excellences was that there was a largeness and unity about its exterior plan which admitted of great modifications, according to circumstances and experience, CHAP. VIII.] ADMISSION OF LADIES TO PARLIAMENTARY DEBATES. of interior arrangements; but this advantage was not regarded as a merit by disappointed competitors and their advocates, but rather as a ground of complaint about changes and improvements, and departure from original proposals. If it required the courage of a hero to offer such a plan to a body so notoriously utilitarian as the British House of Commons; it required further the patience of a saint to endure being hunted and pursued' as Mr Barry was from the moment of the preference of the committees being avowed, and with more or less intermission through succeeding years. But a man who works for ten thousand generations cannot expect perfect sympathy from the existing one. He ought to be satisfied with so much as enables him to do his work; and Mr Barry has had much more than this. He might be satisfied with looking forward to future centuries, when men of an advanced order of civilisation will pass through his imposing corridors and pictured halls, and pause before his magnificent tower, and swell with admiration, without any more dreaming of criticism than we do in pacing a cathedral aisle. The criticism appears to be of a more temporary character even than usual in this case; the most vehement being connected with the process of competition-presently done with-and much of the rest being about the proportions of unfinished work. All this will die away in a few years; and then the general appreciation of the achievement will begin. Meantime, the architect has been well sustained by admiration and sympathy. The principle of competition is admitted also in regard to the sculpture and paintings to be deposited within. The present will be ever regarded as a memorable period for British sculptors and painters, as well as architects. They have been invited to open competition, so conducted as that every artist can shew, before worthy judges, how far he is capable of conceiving and presenting the ideas and facts of the destiny and story of his nation. If there is genius among us, undeveloped, it will be brought out; and that which has already made itself known cannot but be animated by such an incitement. We may hope to see, in the new houses of parliament, the mind of our time stamped for the contemplation of the future, in the form of a history of the past; and if this is not done, it must be because we are not able to do it; for the opportunity lies open. Niches and pedestals are waiting for statues, and panels for paintings, and all our artists are invited to come and try who is most worthy to supply both. there are men to do it, it will be done; and that the case is such, is a noble feature of the time. A beginning of the great enterprise was made in 1837, by the formation of the embankment along the riverside. It was three years more before anything of the character of the work could shew itself; and then, when the east end appeared to the height of the first floor, every one was astonished to find how far the apparition transcended all expectation of it that could be caused by descriptions and drawings. If In connection with this building, an innovation on the proceedings of parliament was proposed in two successive sessions, and discussed at more length, and in a less creditable tone, than could have been 525 expected. In July 1835, it was proposed in the House of Commons that accommodation should be provided in the new edifice for the presence of women at the debates. The proposal was made in a spirit and in language which went far to place every sensible woman on the same side of the question with Lord J. Russell, when he declared his disinclination to debate the matter, and his intention to oppose the motion. Lord J. Russell was outvoted, however, and a committee was appointed to consider the subject. The whole proceeding had much the air of an ill-bred joke-the speech of the mover, the ostentatious eagerness to second it, the coarse mirth, and the large majority. On the next occasion, May 3, 1836, matters were worse-the speeches more indecent, the mirth more flippant and unmanly, the majority larger in proportion. It seemed likely that the women of England might indeed be invited to be present at the deliberations of legislators whose method of invitation was an insult in itself, and who professed to wish for the presence of ladies, among other reasons, as a check upon intoxication and indecency of language. But the affair was happily put an end to by means chiefly of a serious and sensible reply from the speaker, when asked for his opinion on occasion of a grant for a ladies' gallery being proposed. The grant was refused by a majority of 42 against 28. As for the merits of the question, when considered seriously, there was little difference of opinion. Those who advocated the admission of women in the gallery did not pretend to be thinking of the improvement of the women's knowledge, and the cultivation of their interest in subjects which concern every member of society-those who are waiting for political participation, as well as those who have it. Every one knew that serious objects like these are best accomplished at home, as the speeches of legislators are certainly much better in the newspapers than as they are spoken. If the proposition of a ladies' gallery had been carried, the place would have been found to be occupied almost exclusively by giddy and frivolous women, fond of novelty, and with plenty of time to lose; a nuisance to the legislature, and a serious disadvantage to the wiser of their own sex-inasmuch as these triflers would be understood, from their very presence, to be representatives of the Englishwomen who take an interest in politics; while in reality, the latter class would be precisely those who would be reading and thinking at home. Whenever the time shall arrive when the legal position of woman in England comes fairly under the eye of the legislature-a position so injurious as to extract from Lord Brougham the confession, in 1838, that the whole of the law was so atrocious as regards woman, that there is nothing to be done but to leave it alone, and keep it out of sight as long as possible-it would be a serious disadvantage to Englishwomen to be judged of, as they inevitably would be, by such a sample as would have attended the debates on such an invitation as that of Mr Grantley Berkeley and Mr Villiers. As it was, the women of England gained something-in the way of warning how far they were from being respected by those who professed most regard for their political improvement; and the House of Commons lost much in the way of character for sense and refinement. It had often exposed itself by the boyish passion and pot-house manners which had occasioned confusion within its walls; but it now outbid all former disgraces, and excited a disgust which was not likely to be forgotten. The simple-minded now knew something of the way in which some gentry talk when they get together-like to like. The simple-minded were shocked; but they were glad to know the truth, and resolved to bear it in mind. Every one admits, as a general declaration, that no subject can be more important, in the deliberations of parliament, than the defence of its own privileges; yet the whole nation dislikes the subject, and is too apt to despise it. A troublesome and protracted and very serious conflict about the privileges of the Commons began in 1837. On the 6th of February, a petition was presented from Messrs Hansard, the printers to the House, who stated that, in course of the ordinary authorised sale of parliamentary reports and papers to the public, a prison report had been sold, in which was contained a statement given in evidence, that certain prisoners were found reading obscene works, issued by a certain publisher, whose name was given-J. J. Stockdale; that Stockdale had brought an action for libel against Messrs Hansard in the Court of King's Bench, laying his damages at £20,000; that Messrs Hansard had pleaded in justification the sanction and authority of the House of Commons; that the Court of King's Bench had ordered the plea to be struck off the record; and that Messrs Hansard prayed the protection of the House. The privilege of parliament was not involved in the act of disallowing the Hansards' plea, the disallowance being merely on the ground that the plea was unnecessary for technical reasons; and, on this opening occasion, no one dreamed that the privilege of parliament was in question at all. It was on occasion of the trial, the next day, that the controversy was raised. It was raised by Chief-justice Denman, who said that he was not aware that the authority of the House of Commons could justify the publication of a libel. In his charge to the jury, he repeated his opinion with strong emphasis; and the jury accordingly found, that though the book referred to was obscene and disgusting, the defendants were guilty of libel on the publisher. Within a week, the House took up the matter, and appointed a committee to investigate the question of privilege. On the 30th of May, Lord Howick moved resolutions framed on the report of the committee, affirming that the House had full power to publish what it chose; that to bring the privileges of parliament into discussion before any tribunal but parliament itself, is a high breach of privilege; and that for any court or tribunal to assume to decide on the privileges of parliament, otherwise than as carrying out the decisions of either House thereon, is contrary to the law of parliament, and a breach and contempt of its privileges. Sir R. Peel supported these resolutions, against a set, of a contrary purport, proposed by Sir R. Inglis; and those supported by the two parliamentary leaders were carried by a majority of 90 in a House of 162. Here was the Court of King's Bench placed in direct and irreconcilable opposition to the House of Commons; Lord Chief-justice Denman to the assembled representatives of the nation. It was no trifle, such a quarrel as this; and its issue was awaited with great anxiety by all who understood its bearings. There is nothing more to be said of the action of parliament during the reign. The Whig ministers were not men of business. They conveyed the impression of doubt about the quality and practicability of their own measures; and this was, in fact, inviting the obstruction or demolition of those measures. Every session became, to the sensations of those concerned in it, more and more like a troubled dream, wherein the sufferer is for ever struggling to get on, and for ever in vain. By this time, the ministers themselves had arrived at complaining that they could not carry their measures; and this provoked an inquiry, by no means spoken sotto voce, whether, in that case, they were fit for the very office whose business is to pass measures. They were obliged to endure, on occasion of the close of the reign, a speech of scornful reproach from Lord Lyndhurst, which they could not repel with answering scorn, because the Houses and the country knew that the taunts, though severely expressed, were mainly true. After shewing that, at the end of a session of five months, only two measures of original importance had been passed, while seventy-five public bills were depending in the Commons, he declared: Never was the state of business in the other House of parliament in the situation in which it was at present; never did a government so neglect so important a part of its duty-that which it had to discharge in parliament-as the government had done during the last five months. The noble viscount and his colleagues were utterly powerless. They were powerless alike in that and in the other House; they were utterly inefficient and incompetent as servants to the crown; and he must add also, they were equally powerless, incapable, and inefficient as regarded the people. ... He could only say that almost every feasible and reasonable man had but one opinion; but one idea was entertained regarding their conduct. It elicited the pity of their friends, and excited the scorn and derision of the enemies of their country. He gave them a picture of the present-he had also given them a picture of the past. What, then, were their hopes for the future?' The There is no need to accept the vaticinations of an enemy as to the future of the Whig ministry, as events will presently shew us what it was. As for Lord Lyndhurst's pictures of the past and present, they were hailed by some, excited a smile in others, and were openly resented by very few. They were too nearly true to be strongly impugned. premier protested vaguely against them, and went home placidly conscious that he was no nearer going out of office for anything that Lord Lyndhurst could say. A new period, affording fresh chances, was now setting in, during which they might shew what they could do. The premier might now have less leisure and licence than hitherto for blowing feathers, and nursing sofa-cushions, and serenely swearing in the face of deputations; but he was entering on a new term of power, and was safe for the presentwhatever sarcastic enemies, and wearied friends, and the indignant people might say about the incapacity of the Melbourne ministry to carry on the business of the country. CHAPTER IX. HE history of our Whig administrations is almost made up of obstruction on the part of their adversaries, and powerlessness on their own; but never were the Whig rulers reduced to more desperate straits than in the spring of 1837. They were supposed to have staked their existence on carrying their measures for Ireland; but they could not carry them. In the House of Lords the Tories cried out that the country was without a government; and the Radical members in the other House repeated the cry. The ministers were believed to desire earnestly the dissolution of the parliament formed during the short Peel administration; but the king would not hear of it. The king was believed to desire earnestly the resignation of the ministers; but the ministers did not appear to think of giving up. It was a state of things which could not endure long. When the change came, it was not exactly in the way that had been looked for. The king's health had been better for the seven years since his accession than for a long previous period; and he enjoyed a remarkable exemption from the annual attack of hay-fever-as it is called -which had before regularly come on in June. At the beginning of 1837, his family had observed that his strength was not what it had been; but he was upwards of seventy, and some decline might be looked for. When May came in, he appeared to be aging rapidly. On the 17th, he was seated at the levee, for the first time, and looked worn and feeble. On returning to Windsor, he had difficulty in mounting the stairs, and sat down on the first sofa. He held a drawing-room the next day, was again seated, and observed to look still worse; but he was less fatigued in the evening, and was in high spirits the next day-which was the anniversary of the battle of La Hogue. He talked a great deal about our naval warfare, and was carried away by the favourite subject of our victories at sea during the last century. He was stopped two or three times by difficulty of breathing, but went on again. The next morning, Saturday the 20th, he was much the worse for the exertion could take no breakfast, and fell back fainting at lunch-time, and again at dinner. It was clear that evening that he could not go to town in the morning, to be present at the reopening of the Chapel Royal. It was ten at night before he gave it up, and he then left the drawing-room, never to enter it again. On Monday and Tuesday, he saw the ministers. On Wednesday there was a grand ball at St James's, given by the king in celebration of the 527 Princess Victoria attaining her majority. The ball was none of the merriest, from the absence of the king and queen; but the king sent tokens of his kindly sympathy. He presented the princess with a magnificent pianoforte, as his birthday-offering. He held a council on the Saturday; but was wheeled in a chair into the council-room, as he could no longer walk. When June arrived, he and those about him called his illness the old hay-fever. Whatever it was, it disappointed him of meeting the great parties he had invited for the Eton regatta on the 5th, and Ascot races afterwards. As he sat in his easy-chair, breathing with difficulty and sinking in weakness, the kind-hearted old man thought of various things which might add to the pleasure and comfort of the Eton lads, and others of his guests below; and many were the orders he gave. He insisted on the queen's going to Ascot on the race-day, that there might be as little disappointment to the public as possible. She was not gone long; and when she returned, she observed a considerable change for the worse, in those two hours. The dinner in St George's Hall the next day was dull and sad; but there was talk of the king being removed to Brighton in the morning, when perhaps the sea-air might revive him. When the morning came, he was too ill to stir; and the guests at the castle all went away after breakfast. An extraordinary stillness prevailed; and now, the king's danger was freely spoken of there and in London. The danger was supposed to be extreme; but he revived a little, and transacted some business with Sir Herbert Taylor the next day (the 9th), signing papers with much difficulty, but shewing all necessary clearness of mind. A bulletin was now first issued; but on the morrow, the king was so much better as to lead even his own attendants to think that the attack might be got over for the time. The improvement was, however, merely owing to medicines which temporarily relieved the breathing. During his severest suffering, he was eminently patient, thankful for kind offices, and ever cheerful; and when he was relieved, it became evident how great had been the suffering which he had borne so quietly. His spirits rose, and he was full of thanksgiving. He was fully conscious of his danger throughout, and sincerely believing that, from the youth of the Princess Victoria, it was desirable that he should live some years longer, he prayed for life-not for his own sake, but for that of the country. He had prayers read very frequently; and they always revived him. On the 13th, he chose to see the Hanoverian minister on business; and on the 14th, the Duke of Cumberland-he and they, no doubt, being fully aware that the connection between the kingdoms of Hanover and England was hourly dissolving with his failing breath. Possibly, his desire to live ten years longer for the public good might have as much reference to Hanover as to Great Britain. For a few days more he fluctuated between life and death -now appearing to be breathing his last, and then signing a paper or two as he could rally his strength for the effort. His last act of sovereignty was signing the pardon of a condemned criminal. On the Sunday, he received the sacrament from the |