PUNCH’S ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

Monday, Feb.13. Lord Chelmsford’s Bill for doing away with the Grand Jury Nuisance within the metropolitan police district was read a second time, with the approval of Lord Campbell and Brougham. Lord Wensleydale, who was put into the Lords simply and solely because it was thought he must have picked up a good deal of legal knowledge which might be useful when Law Bills were discussed, and who therefore takes every opportunity of protesting against any law reform, made his usual grumble. He is Wensleydale of Walton, but it ought to have been Walton-on-the-Nays. However, his objection was very properly unheeded, and the Secret Tribunal, as Lord Chelmsford called it, will one of these days be as extinct as the Vehme Gericht.

The vestry and inhabitants of St. George’s-in-the-Yeast petitioned against the doings of the Rev. Bryan O’King. The Bishop of Exeter said that O’King had done many objectionable things, but nothing contrary to law, and that a mob ought not to be allowed to interfere. So said Lord Brougham, who mentioned that he had been accused of turning Romanist, because he refused to condemn another person for worshipping after his own fashion. Punch would as soon accuse his old friend of having a Roman nose. The Bishop of London said, that the presence of sixty policemen in the church had kept the rioters in awe the last Sunday. Lord Granville said, they had made as much row as they dared. A highly creditable state of things altogether. If the police would clear out the mob, and the bishop would clear out the parson, a new clergyman might come in with advantage, though as was said in old time, “What can the man do that cometh after the King.”

Mr. Fitzjurld will no longer wield wild arrums and employ minacious terrums as an Irish patriot. Judge Perrin retires, and the Attorney-General for Ireland takes a place on the vinerable binch of secret Thaymis. Mr. Serjeant Deasy is made easy by being shoved up to Fitzjurld’s place; and Mr. O’Hagan, the Pagan, takes Deasy’s. So that thrifle of justice to Ireland is adjusted; but of course there is a row – somebody has been overlocked or neglected, as always happens in Ireland.

The Commons had a Chinese Debate, which came to nothing, except that Charley Napier asked for the Victoria Cross for the gallant old Admiral Hope; and Charley is hereby clapped sonorously on the back for that piece of good taste and good feeling. After which, Lord Clarence Paget moved the Navy Estimates, and got votes for 85,000 men and boys, and about Five Millions of Sovereigns to pay and feed them.

Tuesday. Lord Normanby, who has all the spiteful pertinacity of a not very wise old man, abused our chargé d’affaires at Florence for attending the official reception of Signor Buoncompagni, the Governor-General under the new order of things. There was talk on the subject for about three hours, and it was, of course, made perfectly clear that our chargé had acted quite properly, and that Lord Normanby was only carping at what was distasteful to his friends the ex-tyrants. This being Valentine’s Day, Mr. Punch sent the old goose the following lines:-

“When young you were a smartish fribble,
But now your talk’s the merest dribble:
Don’t kick up such a feeble Sbine,
My Pantaloon and Valentine.”

Lord John Russell stated, that the Spaniards had actually forked out £493,885, which they owed us. We all know how one hates a creditor who has asked one for a just debt, and the bitterness of the Spanish press against England just now may be easily understood. If Spain were more in the habit of paying her debts, she would no perhaps find it so very disagreeable. Mr. Spooner brought on the Maynooth question, and Mr. Patrick O’Brien reminded the House of O’Connell’s saying, that the worst enemy to religion was a pious fool. Mr. Newdegate flared up; but Mr. O’Brien explained that he had not mean to be personal, on;y playful, and apologised like a gentleman. The Spooner motion was rejected by 186 to 128 pious fools, we suppose. The evening ended with some talk about certain alleged inconveniences to Dissenters at Cambridge, but Lord Stanley said that all was right, – so of course it is.

Wednesday. Mr. Mellor’s Bill for inflicting terrible punishment on people who were guilty of bribery was squashed. Mr. Punch rushed down to the House hearing that something was up about the character of Mr. Balfe. Thinking it was about his friend Michael, who writes the elegant operas, Mr. Punch instantly rose and delivered a splendid eulogy on the Rose of Castille, with introduced compliments to the admirable vocalism of Miss Louisa Pyne and Mr. Harrison, at the end of which the Speaker smilingly informed Mr. P. that it was not the composer who was being talked of, but some Irish magistrate named Balfe, who had been oppressed, but that the House was only too happy to hear Mr. Punch on any subject whatever. Mr. Punch was not in the slightest degree abashed, told the Speaker that he, Mr. P., knew quite well what he was about, and delicately worked round the subject from the Royal Italian Opera House, and Mr. Wallace’s new opera, to the Floral Hall, and so to the Volunteers’ Ball, and thence to the Volunteer Movement, and to the state of the country generally, until the House, instructed and delighted, rose.

Thursday. Caligula made his horse Incitatus a Roman Consul (in imitation of which feat a good many British and Foreign Consuls are made out of asses) and it is a pity that we have not an Hereditary Legislator out of the Incitatus stock. His lordship would have been useful to-night, when another Hereditary Legislator, Lord Redesdale, actually thought proper to invite all the other Herditary Legislators to consider whether it would not be well for them to give their official attention to racing matters. He pathetically deplored the evil practice of putting “ridiculously light weights” upon racers, inasmuch as the practice encouraged gambling, and like a practical Hereditary Legislator, he was provided with a proposition to remedy so terrible an evil. He suggested that no horse should, after this year, be allowed to run with less than Seven Stone on him. It is due to his hearers to add, that they not only gave their best ears to the subject, but showed their acquaintance with it; for when Lord Redesdale inadvertently said “pounds” instead of “stone,” he was instantly corrected by a dozen Hereditary Legislators. The question, he said, was too important to be disposed of hastily, as if it were a mere Church Rates Bill or Reform Bill, and therefore he would fix the second reading of his measure at a distant date, in order that the Hereditary Legislature might have ample time to meditate on the proposed alteration. Perhaps witnesses had better be examined, in which case Mr. Punch would like to hear the sentiments of certain Crimean Hereditary Legislators, who should know something of horses, having introduced a new mode of feeding cavalry chargers, namely, by leaving them to devour one another’s tails.

Lord Ebury wanted a document (upon the subject of a revision of the Burial Service) which was in the private library of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and was severely abused bu the Chancellor and Lord Brougham, for making so ungentlemanly a demand. Lord Brougham, indeed, who visited the House of Commons on the night of Mr. Gladstone’s budget speech, and had never been there in the interim between that night and his own elevation to the Woolsack, did not seem to have been greatly conciliated by anything he saw or heard Down-stairs, for he pitched into the Commons uncommonly, for having made the same demand as Lord Ebury. The Earl of Airlie assailed the Coal proposals of the Budget, and was told that he did no understand the question, which was probable enough, though the Ministerial reply could scarcely be considered civil.

Down-stairs, Lord John Russell gave notice that he should bring in his Reform Bill on Thursday, the First of March. He had previously mentioned, in a Cocky sort of manner, that this would be an auspicious day for the purpose, meaning that it was in a First of March, twenty-nine years ago, that he meant by auspicious, but that Bill was read by a majority of one only, and smashed on the first hostile amendment. Is that sort of thing what our courageous young friend is looking to?

He, our courageous young friend, then explained that the Americans had shown their usual smartness in interpreting a treaty between themselves and us. When we repealed the navigation laws, Jonathan promised to be equally liberal, and in fulfilment of his promise has excluded us from the whole trade between New York and California, pretending that Washington and Franklin provided for such exclusion. Lord John was so struck by an appeal to the American Lord Somers and Lord Grenville, that he could not find it in his heart to say we were owdaciously cheated, as no doubt we are.

It was then announced, by bits, that our ally the Elected was enforcing his demand for Savoy and Nice by withholding his consent to the union of the liberated provinces of Italy. He pretends to be afraid lest his frontier should be endangered by a powerful Sardinian kingdom. Lord John had to be put on the rack a little to get the fact out of him, but he finally confessed. Mr. Punch would not wonder if the Opposition made a valuable handle of this pleasant announcement, before the Budget debates are over. Mr. Disraeli may, by a stress of imagination, be conceived “reposing the most illimitable confidence in a sagacious Sovereign, our valued friend and ally, but a diminished and attenuated confidence in the ministerial wisdom that could resign invaluable revenue as a propitiatory sacrifice to an Imperialist idea.”

Lord John further stated, that the King of Naples is so awfully afraid of plots, that an English officer, who bought a cake in Naples as a present to a lady, got into trouble because there was a little three-coloured flag on it. Neither the Poet Punch not the Poet Cowper will be accused of anti-monarchism, but really some lines of one of those great and pious bards force themselves into the memory of the other:

“Quevedo, as he tells his sober tale,
Asked, when in hell, to see the royal gaol:
Approved their dealings in all other things,
But where, good Sir, do you confine your Kings?
‘There,’ said his guide, ‘the group is full in view;’
‘Indeed,’ replied the Don, ‘there are but few:’
His black Interpreter the charge disdained-
“Few, fellow? There are all that ever reigned?’”

Then came a debate on Manning our Navy, and a debate on one of the causes which prevent its being Manned. On the first some useful causes which prevent its being Manned. On the first some useful things were – said. By the second a useful thing was done, for our friend the Viscount of Lambeth, who now and then performs a wise act (or wouldn’t he catch it harder for his chrinic unwisdom), carried a motion for a return of the number of floggings in the Army and Navy for 1859. The object was, mainly, to have a new brand of condemnation marked upon the system. The only professional answer was, What other punishment avails with “riff-raff.” To which the triumphant rejoinder was, Make your Services what they should be, and you will enlist honest and good men, instead of riff-raff. Government were then going to be beaten on a motion of Mr. Hennessy, for inquiry in to the manner in which candidates are nominated and examined for the Civil Service, but Lord Palmerston prudently gave way. A committee was appointed to consider, whether something could not be done to promote the recreation of the people. Mr. Punch, who it need not be said, has done more towards that object than any person who ever lived has done, or any person who ever will live can do, heartily applauds the proposal, and Sir John Trelawny, the proposer.

Friday. Further confirmation of the Savoy and Nice business – our Government is now formally apprised that if Sardinia is to be increased, France will demand part of Savoy – but not against the wishes of the inhabitants. Mr. Punch proposes a compromise. Louis Napoleon must not have any of the land of Savoy, but Mr. Punch offers to hand over to him every Savoyard, organ, monkey, and white mouse in England.

The Dissenters again trespassed of the Lords, and the Schools Bill was a good deal mangled in Committee.

The Conservatives mean to fight the Budget, and Mr. Ducane gave notice of an amendment. The Derbyite cry is to be, “Don’t destroy Revenue, don’t increase Income-Tax.” So there will be a regular Mill. Pam demands that there be no stopping, and that the flight go on day by day till one party is floored.

After the Conversazione (Punch thanks thee, Ben, for teaching him that word), Mr. Sydney Herbert moved the Army Estimates, and got a vote for 143,362 men, which number does not include our Indian Army of upwards of 90,000 soldiers. Sir Robert Peel fired off some rather amusing buffoonery at the Volunteers, especially at “fat lawyers.” Bobby is not a dull Bobby, but is sadly misplaced in the House of Commons. Why does not Paddy Green engage him to take the Chair at the Harmonic Rabbits?

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