The Sun.
London, England, 1863-04-22 00:00:00

THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

" The English House of Commons is one of the most
remarkable assemblies that the world has ever seen, and
almost every ambitious man looks forward to attaining a
seat in it as a possible contingency in his career. What
a bishopric is to the aspiring clergyman, the honour of
being a member of Parliament is to the other professions,
and to the man of family or wealth, whatever his condition
in life may be. Hence it is a motley group, and contains
samples of the piety, patriotism, intellect, chivalry, heroism,
wealth, commerce, and crotchets of this eccentric nation.
These strange elements are, however, held in subjection,
and directed to high and noble purposes, by a few of the
most brilliant intellects of the age; for any man who as-
pires to the honour of being a leader in this assembly must
possess faculties and acquirements of no ordinary kind.
The physical labour alone which he will have to go through
is enough to try the very strongest constitution. But be-
sides this untiring application, he must have mastered a
vast amount of knowledge, and have a deep insight into
human nature ; for the legislation of this assembly must be
adapted to the feelings, t rejudices, and religions of almost
every race of mankind. Hark ! there is a gentleman speak-
ing : his address is quiet ; there is an absence of everything
like excitement about him, and those to whom his words are
addressed : it is a question of foreign policy, and the em-
perors and kings of Europe will not retire to rest until the
electric telegraph has conveyed to them the substance of
what he has said. The eyes of the world are fixed upon
this quiet senate. Every noble soul throughout Western
Europe who longs to break the fetters which bind his
nation in bondage looks to it for encouragement and hope.
The enslaved all over the world, of every creed and colour,
know that they have few friends who can help them but
God and the British Parliament. Two hundred millions of
people look to it for law and protection, and the arms of its
authority encircle the earth. In this forum of the world
who would not desire to excel
" Every shade of ambition may be distinguished here.
The country squire, looking more doltish and out of place
than he does on the bench at quarter sessions, has struggled
hard and spent a few thousands that he may have the
honour of putting M.P. to his name. The restless dema-
gogue, the ' canker of a calm world and a long peace,'
who has come uppermost in the seething caldron of politi-
cal agita' ion, is borne here on the breath of promises which
never can be fulfilled. Mon made of money, who have
bought the honour and paid for it, rising barristers, schem-
ing attorneys, hopeful naval and military officers, younger
sons of old families, heirs to lordly estates and dukedoms,
are jostling here with Irish agitators, the Pope's brass
band,' the pink of Nonconformity, and the petrons of the
turf. All these may be seen, but they are seldom heard,
and less frequently listened to. They have come here to
find themselves in the company of men whose brilliant
souls, like some electric light, make mankind turn their
eyes away from the sickly glare of zushlight intellects.
Those stars of the first magnitude are few, but they are
there, and it is to them that we are to loon for the inter-
pretation of the thoughts and feelings of this great
nation."
Immediately afterwards we have the following de-
scription of
MR. DISRAELI IN THE HOUSE.

" In the front seat on the Conservative side of the House
may be observed a man who, if his hat be off, which it
generally is, is sure to arrest one's attention, and we need
scarcely to be told atter having once seen him that he is
the leader of that great party. He is not old, just turned
fifty, we may suppose, but he bears his age well, what-
ever it ratty be. His face, which was once handsome, is
now " sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought." The
head is long, and the forehead massive and finished. The
eye is restless, but full of fire ; the hair black and curly.
Nature has evidently taken some pains to finish the exterior.
But ho is about to speak; the debate has assumed a party
aspect; strong things have been said bath of him and the
party which he reprasents ; Cobden, Bright, Gladstone,
Osborne, have each laid the lash on their political oppo•
nents, and now it is their turn to receive a chastisement
from the hand of a skilful operator. He is no sooner on
his feet than the House is hushed in silence ; his friends
and backers, who have been galled by the heavy fire of their
opponents, now look up with exultation in their eyes ; they
all know that he will say what each one of them would
have said if he had been gifted with the ability to give
exoression to the thought that was big within him. His
opponents also know that he is not likely to spare them.
Mr. Gladstone looks restless ; Lord John Russell pulls
his hat over his eyes until he looks like a frog under a
fungus; John Bright eyes him with drab pugacity, aid
Palmerston grimly smiles. The orator in the mean-
time beguiles his audience into a good humoured laugh
and then plunges at once into his subject. He
is at home everywhere : the most abstruse figures and
recondite facts—no matter what they may be—are at his
fingers' ends, ripe and ready. The hand on the dial-plate
has travelled on for a whole hour, but we are uncon-
scious of the flight of time, for this luminous exposi-
tion of his subject is only the prelude to a reply which shall
demolish the reasonings of his adversaries. In terse, epi-
grammatic sentences, sparkling with wit and barbed with
satire, he retorts on his opponents amidst the grins and
impatience of his rivals and the hearty and enthusiastic
cheers of his friends. Another hour is gone, and still the
Senate is spell-bound by his eloquence. His closing sen-
tence is followed by a tremendous cheer. The squire leaves
the house to eat his pheasant, quite sure that the agricul-
tural interest is safe whilst it has such an advocate, and
the proudest of a proud aristocracy is flattered by his
friendship."

In the closing chapter of this biography Mr. Mill
tells us that his sources of information have been
more than ten thousand pages which Mr. Disraeli
has written, and many thousands of columns of
Hansard which he has spoken. From these sources
he has compiled fur us a very comprehensive and
delightful summary of the chief literary works of
the author of Coningsby—from the brilliant meteor-
like Vivian Grey, written in his boyhood, down to
Sybil the thoughtful and heart-appealing history of
the Two Nations—Rich and Poor. Mr. Disraeli's
political history is enlivened by many extracts
from his speeches. The conflict with Sir Robert
Peel, which Mr. Mill truly describes as unique of its
kind, is the subject of two very interesting and
important chapters, followed by others entitled,
" The Revolt," " Rising trom the Ranks," "Per-
sonal Matters," " The Man in Office," "Leading
the Opposition," " Second Term of ( ffice,"
In summing up the character of the hero otiiiiisshitn-
s-
tory, Mr: Mill particularly remarks upon
tense love of truth and resolute desire to get at
it if possible ;" his versatility of talent, "aspiring
to be many things and succeeding in nearly all
of them ;" and his amazing Indust resolute,
dogged, able, indefatigable work characterises him
everywhere." Beyond all this, says Mr. Mill,
"there is one quality which must commend itself
to every one—his fearlessness in expressing his
thought, whatever it may be, whether in advocating
a Jew Bill or opposing a successful Minister.
Englishmen always admire pluck." Courage is with
them a primary element in a noble character, and
this perhaps is one of the secrets of Mr. Disraeli's
influence. The extracts given from those parlia-
mentarY Philippics would of themselves render this
volume most attractive. It is worthy of attention,
likewise, as affording a very truthful portraiture of

on- of our most distinguished public men, and a
very spirited survey of a most remarkable career.
We cannot say much in commendation of the
writer's style of composition. Such a kind of narra-
tive does not demand eloquent writing ; an easy,
simple style is all that is required. But Mr. Mill
goes beyond this, and degenerates occasionally into
vulgar colloquisms; as, for example, when quoting
a passage from Mr. Disraeli's famous discourse at
Slough, the writer goes on to say—" It is scarcely
possible to conceive what a row this speech made."
Such expressions are beneath the dignity of any
work assuming in the smallest degree the character
of history, and should an opportunity be afforded to
Mr. Mill, he will do well to revise his composition.
As it is he has fulfilled his purpose of suggesting an
encouraging example to the ambitious youth of
England, mad of according a public tribute to one
who has so many claims on the admiration of his
countrymen.

Oracles from the Britzsli Poets. By James Smith.
Third Edition. Pp. 175. Virtue, Brothers,

and Co.

We hardly wonder at Mr. James Smith's pretty
little Drawing Room Table-Book having already
won for itself the honours of a third edition. Those
honours it is really entitled to. The volume, or
rather volumette, is worthy of being reprinted. For
the original notion of the work the compiler acknow-
ledges himself indebted to the skill and fancy of the
compiler of what Mr. Smith, in the first sentence of
his Preface, frankly calls "its American prototype."
It is only the idea of the book that the English
man-of-letters borrows—not a syllable of the con-
tents—not one solitary quotation. Although the
first title of the little Work (given verbatim at the
head of this notice) is happily enough, and
explicitly enough, " Oracles from the British
Poets its second title is almost better—par-
ticularly if, in remembrance of the merry old
adage, " Laugh and Grow Fat," we apply to this
second title anything like a literal significance—
namely, a " Pleasant Companion for a .Round
Party !" In this suggestion, however, we are
shamefacedly conscious of yielding to the
temptation of indulging in what Charles Reade'b
lady. mother, in Very Hard Cash, all but feints
over the mere mention of, as "jargon." Among the
Poets, by the way, here quoted as Oracles, one we
notice by name—" Twamley." Can it be possible
that this can be that immortal Twam-
ley who once upon a time (see Boswell)
introduced himself in an inn parlour
to Doctor Johnson as—the Inventor of
Warm Flat Irons ? At any rate if not that Great
Original—here is Another Immortal T wamley !
Ae
a specimen of the sweets now gathered together,
and at the same time as affording a specimen of what
the Book before us is made of—we wouli: refer the
reader to the Central GAME or QUESTION in the
Collection, to wit, " What is your favorite Flower ?"
A Question to which fifty distinct answers art
given in the shape of as ninny excerpts from
various English Poets! Now Bishop Mant replies,
for example—
" Our England's Lily of the May,
Our Lily of the Vale."
Now Keats whispers to us honeyedly—

"the Woodbine
Of velvet leaves and bugle blooms divine."

Now Mra. Hemans sings deliciously of—

" The foam-like meadow sweet."
Now Wordsworth cries aloud prophetically (for has
he not in truth made the floweressentiallyhisown?)—

There's a flower that shall be mine—
'Tis the little Celandine.
And so on, butterfly-like, we flit from bloom to
bloom, accordingly as we may select hap hazard any
number in chancing our reply to the general inquiry
as to what our favourite flower may be. So much,
brit fly, by way of welcome to this " Pleasant Com-
panion for"--we cannot help it, Mrs. Dodd! tht
phrase is not ours, but the compiler's—" A Round
Party !"