lieges, and, at the same time, Garibaldi was to disembark upon the mainland. On the other hand the Austrian has again been giving signs of life. Let us hope that Lord Palmerston’s speech upon the National Defences has not misled the opinion of the present Cabinet of Vienna as to the state of feeling between England and France, as some expressions of Lord Malmesbury’s misled their predecessors at the beginning of 1859. It is said that the Austrian army has repaired its losses, and could again hope to take the field with advantage, if not against France, at least against any military power which Italy could bring into the field.
A SINGULAR SESSION.
Sir Richard Bethell, on Friday night, being engaged in a little passage of arms, or tongues, with his learned brother, Mr. Edwin James, said, that the peculiarity of the present session was, that it was a “singular” one. The singularity consisted in the fact that 650-odd gentlemen had been sitting together in council now for well-nigh seven months, and had not much to show as the result of their labours. No one can say that the members of the House of Commons have been idle. On the contrary, they have been the hardest-worked men in London—but they have done nothing. Like the King of France, in the old chronicle, they have marched up the hill, and down again—repeating the manoeuvre as often as you please. The toil of a session has produced a Penelope’s web at last. The very point at issue between the learned gentlemen on Friday night afforded a fair example of House of Commons work. With infinite labour and pains, the Attorney-General had introduced a Bill for the amendment of our Bankruptcy Law. There was an enormous amount of what was valuable in it. As it was mainly drawn in harmony with the views of the commercial classes, it seemed probable that it would endure for ten years at least, at which period of existence any English system of bankruptcy seems to reach the last stage of decrepitude. That would have been a great gain. The House of Commons very properly refused to pension off the existing officials on the extravagant scale proposed by the author of the measure. The Attorney-General got huffy. They declined to allow non-traders who might be debtors to the extent of 20l. to be made bankrupts with little or no ceremony. The Attorney-General got huffier still, and in his huff withdrew the bill. There was an end of that. Then the Government had introduced some seven or eight bills for the consolidation of the criminal law. They were sent down to the Lower House by the Peers at so late a period of the session that it was judged useless to proceed with them. This time the Solicitor-General was cast for the part of Saturn with a commission to devour his own progeny. It was so said, and so done. The Solicitor-General, as he looks into the waste-paper basket to which he has consigned these most useful measures, must say with a sigh, like Brummel’s valet with the tray-full of cravats, “These are Sir Richard’s failures!” These bills, however, were simply useful, and it would have been of the utmost advantage to the public if they could have been converted into Acts of Parliament. They had no political significance whatever. This, however, is not true of Lord John’s failure, which was the monster failure of the session. What about the Reform Bill? It came in like a lion, and went out like a lamb. As the event has shown, the cautious prophets who told us that we should find in the end that the English mind was indifferent to the subject, have turned out to be right. The bill is gone, and nobody cares to inquire where. Then, how much valuable time was consumed in the discussion of the excise duty on paper! The abolition was carried by the Nine Muses; but despite of this tuneful support—no sooner was the proposition brought under the notice of the Peers than it was summarily rejected. A collision between the Houses seemed imminent. Brave words were spoken, and tame deeds followed. Lord Palmerston proved himself to be the best slack-rope dancer of the age. His lordship’s lips flowed with milk and honey, for everybody’s benefit except poor Mr. Gladstone, whose financial labours were pronounced a failure. Mr. Gladstone walked out of the House while his leader was still speaking. It was decided by the quid-nuncs of the House that a dissolution of the Cabinet was imminent. Mr. Gladstone walked back again. So it has gone on throughout the session; and when it is at an end, we shall just have the Indian Forces Bill, the vote for the Fortifications, and the French Treaty, with its corollaries, to show as the practical result of labour done by 1000 legislators, who have been bending to the oar morning, noon, and night, for seven months. All the rest has been strenuous idleness—crank work. With considerable felicity of expression, Sir Richard Bethell has characterised the present as “a singular session.” May it never become plural!
THE WALWORTH MURDER.
