# Australian views of England/Letter 5

LETTER V.
RUMOURED ABDICATION—OPENING OF PARLIAMENT—THE HOUSE OF COMMONS—MR. DISRAELI—MR. GOLDWIN SMITH—GOSSIP.
A RUMOUR is circulating among men who repeat nothing lightly, that England is soon to have a king. Albert Edward is now in the East completing his princely education by a course of travel in the lands of classical and sacred story. He will return, it is said, on the attainment of his majority, to ascend the throne abdicated by the sorrowing Queen. The great grief that has fallen upon Queen Victoria would naturally incline her to seek retirement; and the latest voice from the Royal seclusion tells us that every day her grief grows deeper. It may be that the rumour of abdication is traceable to what is known of this womanly grief, and what is surmised of the forms in which, if it could find no relief, it would ​seek a melancholy indulgence. It were beautiful to see the idolised Queen, who in her royal prosperity had so long rested on the virtues of that noble Prince, now dedicating herself to his memory and to his unfinished works of goodness. Her people might not be blamed if they had imagined this life-fixed cast to Victoria's sorrow. But I fear the rumour will be found to ripen into fact, and that the reign of Albert Edward will commence with another year.
The meeting of Parliament was a gloomy ceremony. That clear silver voice which used to speak from the throne, enchanting all listeners, was absent, and, as every heart felt, stifled by an impenetrable and unavailing gloom. The attendance of Lords was very small, and the few ladies in the galleries sat like icy effigies amidst the gorgeousness that blazed from the walls and ceiling of the Peers' Chamber. The muster in the Commons was much more numerous, though few of the stars vouchsafed to shine on the first gathering. The formal figure of Mr. Edward Baines was one of the first to invade the solitude of the empty benches, and Lord Hotham, in ancient habiliments, and with a James Macarthur-​like step, was conspicuous in his wanderings about the corridors. The Irish members appeared in goodly number, including the haggard visage of Mr. Maguire, and the slim boyish form of the O'Connor Don. When Mr. Speaker was announced the House was about half full. With stately step, and a gentle stooping in his shoulders, the Right Honorable gentleman came, a few minutes before two o'clock, followed by his chaplain and the other officers. "The Speaker is at prayers!" A little commotion of tongues and feet outside, and the Black Rod is announced.
All this time your humble correspondent was continently waiting in the grand corridor leading from the Commons to the Lords, which, however, is by far the best place for the curious spectator at this stage of the proceedings. An accomplished baronet, a member of the Lower House, had me in charge, together with an Italian refugee. Both of us wanted to get places in the Lords to hear the Speech read, but we did not want to leave the present point of observation a minute too soon. A few minutes, and Black Rod returned, with the "faithful Commons" in a straggling crowd at his back. There was no time to be lost. I ​looked as much like a Commoner as some of that heterogeneous crowd; so it was suggested by one of themselves; and in I went right in the thick of the "collective wisdom" of the nation, to the bar of the Lords. I felt over-wise for the rest of the day, and could hardly conceive myself less a character than Mr. Hadfield, or Mr. Vincent Scully, till I woke up to all the realities of a London fog the next morning.
The House of Commons, on its return, adjourned till four o'clock. I had secured a seat in the Speaker's Gallery for its re-assembling. After some preliminary business, such as giving notices of motion, and the chair announcing the return of new members, Lord Palmerston came into the House, about twenty minutes past four o'clock, and was greeted with considerable cheering from the Ministerial benches. The mover of the address, Mr. Portman, who appeared in his volunteer uniform, went through the various topics of the royal speech with fluency and collectedness, and in a neat and unpretending style; and the House encouragingly cheered his tact and businesslike manner. When he sat down, Lord Palmerston rose, and leaning over the back of the seat, shook ​him warmly by the hand. The new member for the city of London, who seconded the address, was heaviness itself, and the tolerant House signified its sense of weariness for some time by a sullen silence, which at length broke into a low whisper; and the feeling of relief was manifest when Mr. Western Wood resumed his seat Instantly rose Mr. Disraeli. The Conservative leader at once plunged into the chief political subject of the Speech—the recent misunderstanding with America; and though the Right Honorable gentleman said nothing, and really had nothing to say, no man could have contrived to say nothing with more adroitness or more show of profundity. With respect to the course pursued by the Government, his office was to speak the approval of his party, and he spoke it well. He believed the wise policy of non-interference had been "sincerely adopted and sincerely practised." Mr. Disraeli then cast about for some reasonable ground for fault-finding, and he hit upon the Morocco loan; but one might better appreciate the tone than the substance of his objections. There was no show of bitterness in what he said, nothing to remind you of the tormentor of the great Peel. With faltering ​voice he passed on to the great sorrow of the nation, and, as he took up his new subject, the true orator appeared. His voice scarcely rose above a mournful whisper—so tremulous with feeling and yet so clear, and his words were of the simplest and fittest, as he spoke of the true worth of the departed Prince, and of the immeasurable greatness of the nation's loss. Every breath communicated its pathetic tones to every heart among his listeners, as he recounted the many virtues that survived to perpetuate the memory of the dead; and when he had concluded with a soul-touching allusion to the grief of the Queen, one felt that the strain of eloquence which had just ceased was of that order which could never be given to others in written words.
In manner and bearing there is some personal likeness between Mr. Disraeli and an Australian statesman—Mr. Gavan Duffy, and when I remarked this to a friend of Mr. Duffy's, I was told that the resemblance had often been noticed. In complexion and features they are very unlike. I was struck by a much more vigorous appearance in the Conservative leader of the Commons than I expected to see. His face looked full, and ​I should judge him capable of much hard work and endurance. I have seen Mr. Disraeli on several subsequent occasions, and his habits of attendance In his place and attention to all that passes do not appear to have been overstated by his biographers.
Of course Lord Palmerston followed Mr. Disraeli Your Mr. Cowper might have said all that the Prime Minister of England said, and said it with quite as much oratorical effect. But there was this difference between Lord Palmerston's common-places and Mr. Cowper's: the old English minister knew exactly the limits within which he must confine himself, and seemed perfectly to know the temper of his audience and the state of public feeling outside In the personal aspect of Lord Palmerston there is a strange incongruity of vigour and infirmity. Standing at the table, he looks fresh and hale; but there is a visible tottering in his step as he walks along the floor, and the way in which he seeks repose as he sits seems to be more forced upon him by exhausted nature than by parliamentary habit
Amidst a little storm of impatient "ohs!" Mr. ​Hadfield, the junior Member for Sheffield, now rose to express what had been already well expressed, and what he did not know how to express at all For some six or eight minutes he blundered on, amidst all manner of signs of disapprobation. Yet I must say the House of Commons is entitled to rank among its chief virtues its tolerance of bores, notwithstanding what has been so often written of its disposition to cough and crow men down. It is scarcely possible to conceive a greater and more pretentious dunce than Sir Robert Peel, and yet the House, from some whim or other, will lustily cheer the Right Honorable baronet, even when he utters the most errant balderdash. Is it that the collective fancy is tickled by the contrast between him and the great minister who freed the people's bread f Speaking of Sir Robert, he got into a pretty scrape the other night with the O'Donoghue, and, in spite of the prejudices against the disloyal Irishman, I think the Chief Secretary came off second best
After Mr. Hadfield, Mr. Maguire started up with the burden of Irish grievances, and a reply from Chief Secretary Peel was followed by the scrannel eloquence of Mr. Vincent Scully. And ​so the House of Commons rose after its first day's sitting in 1862.
Dr. Lang has received a powerful advocate of his theory of Australian independence in no less a personage than the popular Oxford professor, Mr. Goldwin Smith. In the latter end of January a letter from Professor Smith appeared in the Daily News, boldly advocating the absolute emancipation of all the colonies of England. The Times took up the subject in a leader extending over two columns, but utterly failed, as every candid reader must admit, to meet the Professor's ailments. Several other journals have entered with more or less freedom into the discussion. A few days ago Mr. Smith replied in a letter of striking ability, in which he scornfully says that the Times' article "contained not a single relevant argument or fact of any description," and in which the whole question is argued with closer reason and more lucid statement
Mr. Goldwin Smith is a very important man, and has, perhaps, a larger following of young minds than any man at Oxford or Cambridge. His bold adherence to colonial emancipation cannot be treated lightly.
​The annual dinner of Australians in London, to commemorate the foundation of the colony of New South Wales (for that really is the event which the boastful Victorians and others celebrate at these gatherings) took place in the great hall of the Freemasons' Tavern, on the evening of the 12th instant. The chairman for the occasion was Sir James Palmer, and the vice-chairman at the New South Wales table was Sir Daniel Cooper. The Duke of Newcastle, Lord Stanley, Sir John Pakington, and Lord Clarence Paget were among the guests of the evening. Mr. Gladstone was to have been present, but was unfortunately kept away by a family bereavement As a public dinner, the thing passed off well, but the speaking was very indifferent I noticed that your colony was but poorly represented, except by men retired from official position, such as Sir John Dickinson and Mr, Therry. Mr. John Croft, Mr, John Alger, and one or two others connected with your trading circles, were all that I observed at the tables.
Sir John Dickinson, I am told, has some thoughts of returning to the colony, and regrets that he resigned his seat on the Bench. Among the accessions to your bar, you will receive in the course ​of the year two young Australians of some promise, Mr. Innes, son of Captain Long Innes, and Mr, Alexander Oliver. I have also heard that a barrister of Lincoln's Inn, of considerable eminence as a writer on equity law, has some thoughts of emigrating to Sydney.
The friends of Dr. Lang will be delighted to hear that he has completely succeeded in his appeal to the Privy Council Yesterday Lord Kingsdown gave judgment, reversing the decision of the Supreme Court of New South Wales, and giving costs in both Courts against Mr. Purves and his friends.
Sir Daniel Cooper has addressed a long letter to the Duke of Newcastle, calling the attention of the English Government to the superior qualities of Australian coal. The letter is one of considerable ability.
A letter has appeared in the Times from Mr, David Buchanan, defending colonial democracy. The only point in Mr. Buchanan's letter is unfortunately a misstatement of facts, namely, that the public officers who retired on political grounds under the Constitution Act voted for their own pensions, and it has been answered (as it was sure ​to be by somebody in London) by Mr. James Macarthur, shewing that the Member for Morpeth is either ignorant of the most patent facts of our recent history, or indifferent to the truth. It is unfortunate that such an advocate should have appeared in such a place at such a juncture.
London, Feb. 26, 1862.