In Lord Ashley, the working classes may recognize a proper specimen of a British member of parliamentthe steadfast and disinterested friend of themselves and their children-a noble friend, who neither deludes them by flattery, nor inflames them by agitation-who exacts for his services no annual tribute; but, on the contrary, has renounced power, emolument, and fame, that he might continue to do them good.

As the nation is not at all times equally fertile in minds of the highest order, so neither is the house of commons; but viewing it in the aggregate, and for a series of years, it is not surpassed,-may we not say, without partiality or exaggeration ?-it is not equalled by any representative assembly in the world.

And such a house of commons is essential to the right government of this great nation, so elevated in rank and importance among the kingdoms of the earth, and possessing so immense a colonial empire. A house of commons of an inferior description would be inconsistent with the rest of our institutions, and incapable of conducting aright the momentous affairs which engage the attention of the British parliament.

During an important debate, that legislative assembly presents an appearance in every respect becoming its high character. A distinguished leader of one of the two great parties, who are ranged on either side of the speaker's chair, has risen to address the house. The hum of many voices has ceased, and a deep stillness prevails in the crowded hall, and even in the galleries, where every reporter's pen is in motion, and the strangers are listening anxiously, not a syllable is lost, so distinct and emphatic is the graceful speaker's utterance. He skilfully opens his case, his manner denoting the respect due to his audience, and the ease and freedom of conscious power. His narrative flows on in a clear stream, objections are answered,-argument

follows argument, mingled with playful sallies of wit and humour, the bold invective, the keen retort, and occasional bursts of eloquence; while cheers and countercheers accompany the orator's progress, ever deepening and strengthening, to its full and powerful close. He resumes his seat, amid those unanimous plaudits with which superior ability and eloquence are always greeted. The listener for gratification and delight has been hurried along irresistibly, and wonders what the member who has started up on the opposite benches has to say in reply. If he is worthy to enter the lists with so formidable an antagonist, the debate proceeds with unabated animation. If not, his apology to the house, whom he has moved by his first sentences, is lost in the rush of members into the lobby.

As debates are sometimes adjourned for several days, and are often continued till past midnight, it is not surprising that there should be decided symptoms of impatience, when the house is unprofitably detained from the dispatch of business and from repose. Sound and valuable information, though delivered in a homely style, is received with attention; and there are speakers whose impressive eloquence has power to charm that assembly, so fastidiously correct in its judgment of oratory, even when the debate has been prolonged till day break. But parliamentary bores, whose harangues no other means can curtail, are visited with the strongest expressions of uneasiness and displeasure. All circumstances considered, these occasional ebullitions are pardonable and even necessary, and they soon yield when the speaker sees fit to interpose. The self-respect of the house is seen in the deference which is ever paid to him, who seems to embody the spirit of order, and can calm the storms of debate with a few oracular words.

The unceremonious style in which the house of

commons abridges prolixity, when it is thought the question has been fully discussed, and it is time to divide upon it, would surprise a foreigner unacquainted with our national character and institutions. The struggle between the impatient house and certain members eager and fully charged with undelivered speeches, is strange, laughable, and undignified. One or two members there are, whom the loudest storm of disapprobation only causes, like the traveller in the fable, to wrap their impenetrable cloak around them, and jog on more perseveringly. These scenes occur not unfrequently. I take as a specimen a recent instance, at the close of a debate, on May 24, 1842.

Lord Worsley said he had too much respect for the house, to delay them for any length of time, at this hour of the night. Hon. members had not argued fairly against the proposition of the right honourable baronet. He did not object to high duties, but to a prohibition, and to a lean beast and a valuable beast coming in at the same duty. The noble lord resumed his seat amid loud cries of "divide."

Mr. Villiers rose amid yells and noises of various descriptions, which rendered his first sentences inaudible; and the honourable member made a short speech, without further interruption.

Mr. F. Scott and Mr. Ward made a few remarks, without interruption.

Mr. O. Gore rose to speak, amid uproarious cries of "divide.” His first few sentences were, therefore, perfectly inaudible, and he continued for a short time to address the house.

Mr. Hume rose, but the cries which had greeted the few preceding members were insignificant, in comparison of the yells, howls, and "bahs," that emanated from all sides of the house; but the honourable member, nothing daunted, said, if he was not allowed to

speak, he should move that the chairman report progress, and ask leave to sit again. This threat allayed, in some measure, the turmoil; and the honourable member said, he saw several members now interrupting the proceedings, who had taken no previous interest in the motion, and he believed their object in coming was to interrupt the business of the house. (Renewed cries of "bah.") It was his intention to support the right honourable baronet, and he should not now have addressed the house, but for the charge of calumny which had been brought forward against honourable members on his side of the house. He could only say, that if the right honourable baronet was as anxious as he had stated himself to be, that animal food should be cheaper, he would adopt the proper course, and make corn cheaper. (Loud cries of "Oh!" and "sit down.") The honourable member, however, continued to stand, and in spite of occasional interruptions, finished his speech. The house divided soon afterwards.

Sometimes sarcastic reproof is applied to chastise tediousness, though perhaps with no greater effect, unless to deter other less hardened offenders from the like transgression.

On the whole, is it not better, both as regards the style of oratory and the dispatch of business, that the house should plainly manifest its approbation or dislike of the sentiments addressed to it, than that its members should have that liberty of unlicensed speaking which exists in the house of representatives at Washington, where a single speech is often adjourned for several successive days, and afterwards published as a book? The American orators may therefore be said to "speak volumes." And as some member of Congress talks on from hour to hour, his brother representatives are writing their letters and reading their newspapers, while his solitary voice resounds amid the rustling of

leaves, (not of the forest) or perhaps the snore of some sentinel of liberty slumbering at his post.

The personal quarrels which are sometimes caused by unguarded expressions, in the heat of debate, suggest considerations of a graver character. It is to be lamented that eminent statesmen have engaged in duels, having this origin, thus lending the influence of their example to a practice which it had been more virtuous and more truly brave to resist. No force of custom can ever alter the nature of a crime. Neither the power of public opinion, nor the verdicts of juries, given in opposition to the statute book, can absolve from the sentence of the Divine Lawgiver. Much has been ably and unanswerably written, to prove the absurdity of duelling, as a relic of a superstitious and barbarous age, its utter inefficacy as a means of redress-its criminality as an act of culpable homicide. The question mainly resolves itself into this-Whether shall we fear and obey God or man? Here most plainly "the friendship of the world is enmity with God.' Christian's duty is therefore evident. He must avoid giving just cause of offence; where he has done wrong inadvertently, he must be prompt to make full reparation and a fair apology; and he must not be the vindictive avenger of injuries committed against himself. But, the world's reproach,-who can bear it? Say rather, "a wounded conscience who can bear?" or what mortal man shall dare, with blood-stained hands, to brave the power and the anger of his Maker, who has commanded, in sacred and solemn words, which no sophistry can evade, "Avenge not yourselves, neither give place unto wrath; vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord ?"

The

Truly, to commit a crime in compliance with a foolish and vicious custom, is a strange mixture of physical hardihood and of moral cowardice. But to