Count Ferdinand de Lesseps.

Miss Daisy BaldryFrom a Photo by James Bacon, Newcastle-on-Tyne.Miss Irene Vanbrugh.From a Photo by Russell & Sons, 17, Baker Street, W.MISS FRANKSFrom a Photo by A. Weston, 84, Newgate Street, E.C.

Miss Daisy Baldry

From a Photo by James Bacon, Newcastle-on-Tyne.

Miss Irene Vanbrugh.

From a Photo by Russell & Sons, 17, Baker Street, W.

MISS FRANKS

From a Photo by A. Weston, 84, Newgate Street, E.C.

By His God-daughter.

Thename of De Lesseps has been on the lips of many people, both French and English, within the past two years; some speaking of him in terms of reproach, others of admiration, for his past services to his country and the world at large, and commiseration for his present sad position, and the failure of his last great scheme, the cutting of the Isthmus of Panama. This record of his life, therefore, by one who, from her childhood, has known the "Grand Français," may be found interesting at this moment.

Ferdinand de Lesseps was born at Versailles on the 19th November, 1805. At first, and for many years, he was engaged in the French diplomatic service at Lisbon, Barcelona, and the East. Count Ferdinand de Lesseps was married, first in December, 1838, to Mlle. Delamalle, by whom he had five sons. His three elder children died at an early age, and his surviving sons by this marriage are Charles and Victor de Lesseps. Charles, the former, of whom the world has heard so much lately, took an active part in the works both at Suez and Panama, and was the able assistant of his father.

When the events of 1851 and 1852 placed the third Napoleon on the Imperial throne of France, and the Emperor, in January, 1853, married Mlle. de Montijo, who was the cousin of De Lesseps, his influence at the French Court was assured. It was in 1854, when in Egypt on a visit to H.H. Mohamed Saïd Pasha, that the project of cutting the Isthmus of Suez was first broached by him. He discussed the scheme with Saïd Pasha, and as a result his "Percement de l'Isthme de Suez" was drawn up. He obtained a concession in 1856 from the Viceroy Saïd Pasha, who himself took a large share in the venture, and granted De Lesseps an extraordinary privilege in the shape of forced labour.

Count de Lesseps then left for France to obtain the necessary capital for his works, and returned to Egypt in 1860. The preliminary works were commenced in this year, and proceeded with, notwithstanding great opposition, especially from the British Government. Another great difficulty presented itself, for during the progress of the works Saïd Pasha died, and was succeeded by his brother Ismaïl.

Ismaïl was alarmed at the magnitude and uncertainty of the grants to the Canal Company, and was anxious to retire from the obligation of finding forced labour for the construction of the works. He therefore refused to ratify or agree to the concession granted by his brother.

For a time the whole works of the Canal were stopped, but eventually the question in dispute, together with the objection which had been raised as to the necessity of obtaining the Sultan's confirmation of the original concession, was referred to the arbitration of the Emperor of the French.

In the result Napoleon III. awarded the sum of £3,800,000, to be paid by the Viceroy of Egypt to the Canal Company as an indemnity for the loss they had sustained by the withdrawal of forced labour. This sum was applied by the Company to the prosecution of the works of the Canal.

In 1865 a small channel was made, with sufficient water to admit the passage of very small vessels. By the year 1867, the bed of the Canal was so far enlarged as to admit the passage of small ships and schooners. In August, 1869, the waters of the Mediterranean were mingled with those of the Red Sea.

AGE 55.From a Photo by Reutlinger, Paris.(Date of commencement of Suez Canal.)

AGE 55.

From a Photo by Reutlinger, Paris.

(Date of commencement of Suez Canal.)

On November the 17th, 1869, the Canal was formally opened at Port Said, amid a seriesof fêtes, which culminated in the famous ball given at Ismailia, by Ismaïl Pasha, which combined all the extravagance of the East with the civilization of the West. The ball was opened by Count de Lesseps with the Empress Eugénie as his partner. The Emperor of Austria, the Crown Prince of Prussia, and many other Royal personages were included amongst the Viceroy's guests. Ismaïl Pasha was at this time in the height of his glory, and he lavished his hospitality broadcast.

AGE 64.From a Photo by A. Liébert, Paris.(Date of completion of Suez Canal.)

AGE 64.

From a Photo by A. Liébert, Paris.

(Date of completion of Suez Canal.)

A few days after this great triumph, Count de Lesseps married a young Creole—Mlle. Autard de Bragard. A little romance is told of his first meeting with Mlle. de Bragard, on the voyage from France to Egypt. Count de Lesseps had gathered in Palestine some roses near the Dead Sea, called the roses of Sheron. They are a genus of dried flowers, which, when placed in water, open and present an appearance of blooming. He explained the peculiar characteristic of this flower, and remarked it was similar to his old heart when nurtured. Thus was the proposal made and, as is known, accepted.

By this marriage he had twelve children, six boys and six girls: Mathieu, born 12th October, 1870; Ismaïl, born 27th November, 1871; Ferdinande, his eldest daughter, born 3rd December, 1872, and who has married the Count Ferdinand de Goutant Biron; Eugénie, born 1st January, 1874, died 19th May, 1874; Consuelo and Bertrand, twins, born 3rd February, 1875; Helene, born 8th July, 1876; Solange, born 18th September, 1877; Paul, born 13th April, 1880; Robert, born 23rd May, 1882; Jacques, born 5th July, 1883; Giselle, born 16th December, 1885.

We give here three photographs of Count de Lesseps and his family. The first shows the "Grand Français," with seven children; the next, Count and Countess de Lesseps, with nine children; and the third, the two parents and their whole family.

After the success of Suez, he was appointed by Napoleon III. to the rank of Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour, and was created by Her Majesty Queen Victoria an Honorary Knight Grand Commander of the Order of the Star of India, and in July, 1870, the freedom of the City of London was presented to him.

AGE 74.From a Photo by Nadar, Paris.(Date of commencement of Panama Canal.)

AGE 74.

From a Photo by Nadar, Paris.

(Date of commencement of Panama Canal.)

About ten years after the triumph of Suez, his restless spirit prompted him to undertake a stupendous task, which even then filled his friends and advisers with anxiety. He had long conceived the idea of uniting the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, as he had already done the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. He convened a Congress of all the European and American Powers to decide as to the routes to be selected for the construction of a canal—whetherviâPanama, Tehuantepec, Nicaragua, or Darien. Althoughopinion was greatly divided at the Congress as to the route, he favoured thatviâPanama, and, ultimately, carried his opinion. This fatal step was the origin of all the troubles of his declining life. His glory seemed like to wane before the disasters that befell his project, and his title of "Le Grand Français" appeared to have been forgotten.

COUNT DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF SEVEN CHILDREN.From a Photograph.

COUNT DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF SEVEN CHILDREN.

From a Photograph.

COUNT AND COUNTESS DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF NINE CHILDREN.From a Photo by Nadar, Paris.

COUNT AND COUNTESS DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF NINE CHILDREN.

From a Photo by Nadar, Paris.

He formed his Company in 1881 with a capital of £24,000,000, which did not lastlong. Between 1883 and 1887 further moneys were obtained by means of several loans and lotteries, and these funds were supplied to the fatal abyss, until the amount reached the enormous sum of £60,000,000. This sum was also spent and squandered. His staff showed a want of foresight, and a want of something which is better left unexplained. The Panama scandals in Paris revealed enough to the world to allow everyone to judge for himself. But Count Ferdinand de Lesseps was ignorant of all the vicious stratagems employed, and was in no way responsible. He, however, with his son Charles, had to bear the brunt of the catastrophe and atone for others.

COUNT AND COUNTESS DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF ELEVEN CHILDREN.From a Photo by Nadar, Paris.

COUNT AND COUNTESS DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF ELEVEN CHILDREN.

From a Photo by Nadar, Paris.

The works were stopped in 1887 for want of funds. The Canal at that time was only partly cut. The machinery, houses, barracks, huts, sheds, were all deserted. From being once the scene of active life and the centre of 20,000 living beings, the Isthmus of Panama is now forsaken, and the sepulchre of the hard-earned savings of many a French peasant. The weight of such a grave responsibility as the loss of over £60,000,000, subscribed principally from the purses of the French thrifty, together with the prosecution of his son, has increased his age tenfold. He was strong and hopeful at eighty; he is senile and weak at eighty-nine.

The accompanying photographs show Count de Lesseps at the commencement of his fatal task in Panama, and at the present day.

PRESENT DAY.From a Photo by V. Daireaux, Paris.

PRESENT DAY.

From a Photo by V. Daireaux, Paris.

Death would have been a consolation to his many troubles, and would have ended a life full of success and glory up to its zenith, and now fast ebbing amidst the smouldering ruins of a disastrous enterprise. The concession granted by the Republic of Colombia for the construction of the Panama Canal elapses in 1895. The Colombian Government may extend it, but will this avail? Some great engineer must answer this question.

Themodern processes of photographic reproduction for the illustration of books and periodicals have given us one great advantage at least, irrespective of their rapidity of execution and comparative inexpensiveness: the pictures as printed are absolute facsimiles of the originals. Thus it is possible to present a scientifically accurate reproduction of any especially interesting document, drawing, plan, or picture, unimpaired by the interference of any other hand than that of the original writer or draughtsman; and one may, for all practical purposes, examine an autograph which, in its actual self, is inaccessible. The facsimiles which are here produced are all of an extremely interesting, though entirely diverse, character.

A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."THE PILGRIMS ESCAPING FROM DOUBTING CASTLE.

A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."

THE PILGRIMS ESCAPING FROM DOUBTING CASTLE.

"The Pilgrim's Progress," illustrated by a Chinese artist, in drawings conveying the Chinese conception of Christian's adventures, cannot fail to be, at least, curious. Such a series of drawings was made and printed, not very long ago, in Canton. There is no text beyond the title printed at one of the top corners of each illustration. Three of these illustrations are here reproduced, representing respectively Christian's combat with Apollyon, Christian and Faithful escaping from Doubting Castle and Giant Despair, and the Shining One releasing Christian and Faithful from the Flatterer's Net. The absolute fidelity in detail of these pictures to the narrative is no less to be remarked than the very Chinese characteristics of those details.

A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."THE FIGHT WITH APOLLYON.

A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."

THE FIGHT WITH APOLLYON.

Next we have a facsimile of a very different character from the last. This is a sketch, drawn by Nelson with his left hand, after he had lost his right, by way of explanation of his tactics at the battle of Aboukir (the Nile). The particulars of the occasion are inscribed by a witness in the left-hand bottom corner of the sketch. The sketch itself is naturally of the roughest description, as, indeed, would be the case with one drawn by the right hand if the sketcher were explaining his meaning by word of mouth as he went along. At the left, a very rough figure, intended to represent an arrow-head, indicates the direction of the wind. The horizontal lineof oval figures in the middle represents the French fleet as it lay at anchor in the bay. The line marked "track of the English fleet" shows the direction in which Nelson approached, and the broken scorings in the middle of the French line show where part of the English fleet broke that line. The dotted line between half of the French fleet and the shoals just off shore marks the position taken up by one half of the English fleet, while the other half attacked the same ships on the opposite side, thus annihilating half of the enemy to begin with, while the other half were helplessly to leeward and unable to give assistance; afterwards working down the line and finishing off the rest, with the exception of the few ships that escaped.

A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."THE SHINING ONE RELEASING THE PILGRIMS FROM THE FLATTERER'S NET.

A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."

THE SHINING ONE RELEASING THE PILGRIMS FROM THE FLATTERER'S NET.

PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF ABOUKIR. DRAWN BY LORD NELSON WITH HIS LEFT HAND.

THE BANDIT'S REVENGE. BY W. M. THACKERAY.

Between this and our next pair of facsimiles there is every possible difference. Thackeray's fondness of and facility in sketching, and his ungratified ambition to excel as an artist, are well known. Great numbers of his earlier sketches have been unearthed and published, but we have here some that have never before been printed—and some by no means of the worst. They exist in a sketch-book, and appear to have been made in the year 1832, when Thackeray was just of age. There are five sheets of sketches (of which we here present two), embodying a burlesque melodrama, entitled "The Bandit's Revenge; or, the Fatal Sword."In the beginning we see the hero, Vivaldi, escaping from the Bandit's castle. Next there is an exhibition of the consequent rage of the Bandit chief. The cask labelled "gunpowder" is provided with a suspicious-looking tap, and the carelessness with which the Bandit has placed his torch on the cask-head hints that perhaps he keeps something more internally grateful than gunpowder in that cask. But Vivaldi's escape is only temporary, for in the next sketch he is captured, and being dragged back to the robber's stronghold; and in the last sketch of the first sheet his pitiable and starved condition in the "deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat" is well set forth. This completes Act I. Act II. begins with contrition on the part of the gaoler, who assists his escape by the loan of a mule, mounted on which the emaciated hero is taken, by the country folk, for Death on his Pale Horse. The Bandit's anger at this second escape culminates in a pyramid of heads, with the traitorous gaoler's on top; while the liberated Vivaldi, forgetful of his changed appearance, essays to jump his mule in at his Bertha's window, sending that lady into a very excusable swoon. This concludes Act II. In the next sketch (for which, unfortunately, and for those succeeding it, we have not room) Vivaldi, under the benign influence of good living, has grown comparatively fat, and converses lovingly with his Bertha. But the Bandit chief is not done with yet, and he waits in ambush with his retainers, variously armed, to attack the marriage train, which is seen approaching in the distance, bishops, dancers, and all complete. Next we see the fatal effect of the Bandit's attack. Bridesmaids, croziers, and ecclesiastical functionaries lie in a heap on the ground, but Vivaldi stands unharmed and defies his foes, while Bertha swoons comfortably against his back. Then with a lunge of his mighty sword (which has suddenly lengthened out to about fifteen feet) Vivaldi transfixes the whole robber band of six as they stand in convenient single file, driving his point also through a stout tree standing behind. The drama finisheswith an "emblematic vision," wherein Vivaldi and Bertha, some years older, take hands in the centre under the shelter of that interminable sword, while on each side stand half-a-dozen children of various ages. The last sketch represents the manager addressing "the fullest house ever known in this theatre," consisting of four persons besides the orchestra, and thanking them for their approval. Finally follow two sheets of manuscript, purporting to be extracts from the rival local papers, taking opposite views of the performance and bullying each other. One comes out with some lines to the leading lady, lines with many of the characteristics of the local paper. The first verse runs as follows:—

I saw thee, and my feelings gushedIn one tumultuous tide;My eye was dim, my ear was hushedTo everything beside.I thought my heart was withered,But from out its mould'ring cindersA mighty flame there gatheredFor thee, my love, my Flinders.

These verses are, of course, abused violently by the opposition paper. Those who are curious to examine those of this set of drawings not here presented, together with facsimiles of the two pages of manuscript, are referred toThe Picture Magazineof this month, in which the whole of the pictures here produced appear, with many others of equal interest. Among the rest there are nine more of the Chinese illustrations to "The Pilgrim's Progress."

THE BANDIT'S REVENGE. BY W. M. THACKERAY.

"Variety is the spice of life," somebody once said, and here we have the facsimile of the horoscope cast for John Milton's birth, by Gadbury, the astrological contemporary of Lilly—a thing as little like what has gone before as may be. With the exception, perhaps, of the inscription in the centre, the whole affair is about as intelligible to the average person as any side of Cleopatra's Needle. An astrologer, however, reads it all as easily as if it were a bill of fare, and a modern practitioner (Mr. Alan Leo, ofThe Astrologer's Magazine) informs us that the indications set forth on this hieroglyphic tell a tale curiously inkeeping with the actual facts of Milton's life. His pleasures, it seems, were to take a serious turn; he was to have a versatile genius in literature, but with a chief bent to serious work. His first marriage was to be a failure in consequence of some vagary on the part of certain moons, but he was to marry again. Mars so interfered with the Sun that it was evident that he would be blind in his forty-fifth year; and there are other prophecies, almost equally exact, and all very wonderful.

Facsimile of a Horoscope set on the NativityofMILTONthePOET:by John Gadbury the Astrologer

Facsimile of a Horoscope set on the Nativity

ofMILTONthePOET:

by John Gadbury the Astrologer

A facsimile of a photograph closes our present list. The photograph is that of an Indian fakir—one of the most celebrated in India at the present moment, if not actually the most celebrated. He is seventy years of age, and has worn the immense mass of iron chains shown in the photograph continuously, without a moment's cessation, for the past ten years. The weight of the iron is 670lb., and as may be seen, the "Jingling Fakir," as he is called, is by no means a man of muscular build—certainly not of the build best fitted to adopt such an amusement as the continual carriage of considerably more than a quarter of a ton of iron chain.

THE JINGLING FAKIR.

In addition to these, as has already been remarked, several other interesting pictures are to be seen in the present issue ofThe Picture Magazine, as, indeed, is usual every month. It needs but to see these to understand that a book of pictures alone may be something a great deal more important and interesting than a book for children merely.

(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)

DRESS IN THE IRISH PARLIAMENT.

Fortuitously at a time when the re-establishment of an Irish Parliament at Dublin was within measurable distance, there has been brought to light a suit of clothes described as the Court garments of a member of the Irish Parliament who represented County Cavan in the year 1774. It has, of course, turned up in the United States, and is now on view in a shop in Chicago. The suit is described as being of a deep maroon broadcloth, embroidered with heavy solid gold bullion, with the figure of a harp surrounded by a wreath of shamrock, and a vine of the same extending around the skirt. The breeches are of a deep yellow plush, and the three-cornered cocked hat is of black beaver, covered with gold lace. From this it would appear that when Ireland had her own Parliament her sons spared neither money nor taste in the effort to live up to it in the matter of clothes. The suit, on the whole, seems almost to suggest the presence of a State coachman. Taken in the mass, it must have been very effective.

"EM I TO UNDERSTAND?"

One can imagine how naturally Mr. Field would take to a revival of this uniform. In the Saxon Parliament he represents the St. Patrick's Division of Dublin City. He sits below the gangway, and on summer afternoons distinctly endows that portion of the House with a haze of reflective light. It is from his shirt-front, which in the matter of displayed area is, at any time before the dinner-hour, remarkable, whilst its glossiness is almost dazzling. With this snowy expanse cunningly set-off by contrast with a black necktie reposing under a turned-down collar, and with his long hair haughtily brushed back behind his ears, Mr. Field might be anything in the high art line, from a poet to a harpist. Actually he is, apart from politics, something in the victualling business. He is great at question time, and is a terror to the Chief Secretary. Having put his question and received his answer, he invariably rises, and, expanding his chest and throwing out his right arm with impressive gesture, slowly says: "Em I to understand that the right honourable gentleman means——" Here follows a supplementary question of expanse proportionate to the shirt-front. As a rule, it turns out that he is not to understand anything of the kind. But he has had his fling, and let St. Patrick know that William Field, M.P., is on the look-out tower.

SEVENTY YEARS AGO.

I have an engraving showing a view of the interior of the House of Commons during the Session of 1821-3. It is the old House of Commons, illumined by candles alight below the ventilator, a recess wherein ladies found their only opportunity of being present at a debate. It was, as I mentioned some time ago, out of a chink in this part of the roof that Mr. Gladstone once in the middle of an exciting debate saw a bracelet fall. It was not the habit of the House of Commons to assemble in anything like uniform, but the dress of the gentlemen of the day was much more picturesque than ours. On this night, in a Session more than seventy years dead, every member of the House wears a coat buttoned across his chest, with deep collar rising, in some cases, up to his ears. Some display shirt collars of the kind Mr. Gladstone sports to this day. They are in a few casessustained by a black stock, more frequently by a white scarf loosely tied, in which is set a pin. For the most part the coats are cut away at the hip, the trousers are preternaturally tight, and, where top-boots are not worn outside, are strapped under the instep.

OLD STYLE.

This was the Long Parliament under the Premiership of Lord Liverpool. Summoned on the 9th June, 1812, it was dissolved on the 24th April, 1827, having lasted the almost unprecedented period of fourteen years 319 days. Eldon was Lord Chancellor for the fourth and last time. F. J. Robinson and Vansittart succeeded each other at the Exchequer. Sir Robert Peel was sometime Home Secretary, sometime Irish Secretary. Castlereagh and Canning shared between them, in succession, the office of Foreign Secretary. All their portraits, with the exception of Lord Eldon's, are shown in this engraving, being the careful work of one Robert Bowyer. In pictures of the House of Commons done in these later times, a majority of members are shown wearing their hats, as is the custom in the House. Whether for artistic purposes, or because seventy years ago it was not the thing to wear the hat in the presence of the Speaker, no hats are shown in this old engraving. This circumstance brings into fuller notice the greater average age of members of Parliament in those days. On all the closely packed seats one finds only here and there a face that looks as young as thirty.

DRESS IN THE COMMONS.

Up to recent times, the unwritten law of the House of Commons with respect to dress was severe. There was a wholesome impression that a man setting out for Westminster should array himself very much as if he were going to church. Twenty years ago no member would have thought of entering the precincts of the House wearing anything other than the consecrated stove-pipe hat. It was the Irish members who broke down this ancient custom, as they are responsible for changing the manners of Parliament in more important respects. John Martin was, as far as I remember, the first member who crossed the Lobby of the House in a low-crowned hat. But he shrank from obtruding it on the notice of the Speaker. He carried it in his hand, stowing it away out of sight during a debate. Even this modest demeanour led to an interview with the Speaker. Mr. Brand was then in the Chair. He sent for Mr. Martin, courteously but firmly explained to him that he was breaking an unwritten law of Parliament, and asked him to provide himself with head-gear more usually seen at Westminster. Mr. Martin at once obeyed the injunction, a conclusion of the story which shows how far we have marched in the last eighteen years.

MR. JOSEPH COWEN.

Mr. Martin belonged to the Irish party, parliamentarysapeursto whom nothing is sacred. Of English members, the first to break the traditions of the House in this matter was Mr. Joseph Cowen. In the course of an already distinguished career, he had never possessed a top-hat, and even the honour of representing Newcastle in Parliament could not drive him to alter the fashion of his head-gear. But like John Martin, he, whilst pleasing his own fancy, was careful not to offend the prejudices of others. He always entered the House bareheaded, and so sat throughout a debate, his broad-brimmed, soft felt hat not being donned till he had passed the doors. At this day the Speaker looking round a moderately full House will see half-a-dozen top-hats of various ages and shades of colour fearlessly worn. Mr. Keir Hardie, desiring to go one better in the effort to flout "the classes," was obliged to come down in a greasy tweed cap.

KAMARBANDS.

The exceptionally hot summer of last year gave opportunity for fresh lapse from the decent gravity of dress in the House of Commons. It was Lord Wolmer who first flashed a kamarband within sight of the astonishedMace, a circumstance that made resistance hopeless. Had the fashion been adventured by some frisky but inconsiderable new member, it might have been frowned down before it had time to spread. But when the thing was seen round the moderately slim waist of the son, not only of an ex-Lord Chancellor, but of the gravest-mannered peer in the House of Lords, all was lost. Mr. Austen Chamberlain promptly followed suit; Mr. McArthur seized the opportunity to display an arrangement in silk of the Maori colours. The Irish members, determined that ordinarily slighted Ireland should not lag behind, met in Committee Room No. 15, and subscribed a shilling each to purchase a brilliant green kamarband for their Whip, Sir Thomas Esmonde. The fashion spread till, looked upon at question time of a summer afternoon, the House in the aggregate presented something of the appearance of a crazy quilt. The Front Opposition Bench had already succumbed to the epidemic. Every day when the House met members turned instinctively towards the Treasury Bench to see if Sir William Harcourt and the Solicitor-General had yielded to the prevailing influence. Happily before that befell the weather changed, the thermometer fell, and waistcoats were worn again.

LORD WOLMER'S KAMARBAND.

THE HOUSE OF LORDS.

Whilst members of the House of Commons have no special dress even for gala days, the House of Lords cherishes the immemorial custom of wearing robes on State occasions. Whenever a new peer takes his seat, not only is he robed himself, but is the cause of robing in others. The peers who introduce him are clad in raiment of scarlet cloth, slashed with ermine in varying fashion, indicating their rank in the Peerage. With them comes Garter King-at-Arms, the Royal Arms of England embroidered on his back.

GARTER KING-AT-ARMS AND NEW PEER.

The only time the Lords sit robeden masseis on the occasions, now rare, when the Queen opens Parliament in person. That is one of the stateliest scenes in the pageantry of English public life. In modern times its most effective rendering was seen on the day when Mr. Disraeli, just made Earl of Beaconsfield, escorted his Sovereign to the throne, holding before him the sword of State. When "Dizzy" was yet a young man pushing his way to the front, he used to write almost daily to his sister, giving her a piquant account of scenes in which he had taken part. Of all his published works this, perhaps the least known, is the most charming. On the day when Vivian Grey, having realized the dream of his youth and become Lord Beaconsfield, marched into the House of Lords escorting his Sovereign, the sister was dead, and for "Dizzy" the opportunity and habit of writing familiar letters had passed away. A pity this, for an account of the scene and of the impressions made on his mind, written in the sprightly style of Disraeli the Younger, would be invaluable.

Years have passed since the event, but I can see, as if it had stridden past this morning, the familiar figure, looking taller by reason of the flowing robe that encircled it, the wrinkled face with eyes reverently bent down, and over all an air of supernatural solemnity.

"BAKER PASHA."

There is no one like Sir Patrick O'Brien left to the present House of Commons, neither is there anyone who resembles Mr. Biggar or Mr. Dawson, sometime Lord Mayor of Dublin, a patriot with fuller allowance of spirit than of inches. It was he who, during debate on a provision of the Peace Preservation Bill, sternly regardingthe bulky form of Mr. Forster, then Chief Secretary, warned him that if, armed with the powers of this infamous Act, he were to approach the bedside of Mrs. Dawson in the dead of the night it should be over his (the Lord Mayor's) body. "Baker Pasha," as he was called in recognition of his commercial pursuits before drawn into the vortex of politics, went back to his shop, his early rolls, and his household bread, and soon after flitted to still another scene.

MR. FORSTER.

"PAM'S" COUNSELLOR.

Captain Stacpoole was not much known to the reader of Parliamentary reports, but was long a familiar figure in the House. He had sat in it whilst Palmerston was leader, and his intimate friends had reason to believe that he had more to do with the direction of that statesman's policy and the destinies of the world than met the eye in contemporary records. It was Captain Stacpoole's custom of an afternoon to stand in the Lobby with his hat pressed on the back of his head, his legs apart, his hands thrust in his trousers pockets—with the exception of his little fingers, for occult State reasons always left outside. In this attitude, swinging backwards and forwards on heel and toe, he told at length what he had said to "Pam" on occasion, and what "Pam" had said to him.

He did not often interpose in debate, his best remembered appearance on the scene not being altogether successful. It happened, I think, in the year 1877, in debate on the Irish Sunday Closing Bill. The Captain joined a minority of some dozen of the Irish Nationalist members in opposing the measure. Mr. Macartney, father of the member for South Antrim, who at this day worthily maintains the Parliamentary prestige of the family, observed that of this group of members there was not one who was not connected with the liquor trade. Hereupon Captain Stacpoole jumped up, and, falling into his favourite position, shouted out, "I deny that. I have no connection with the trade."

"I beg the hon. member's pardon," said Mr. Macartney, "he is the one exception to the rule. He is not a producer, he is only a consumer," a hit at the Captain's convivial habits much appreciated by the Committee.

MAJOR O'GORMAN.

Captain Stacpoole has gone to rejoin his old friend and pupil, "Pam." Gone, too, are the O'Gorman Mahon, Mr. Delahunty, Mr. Ronayne, and Major O'Gorman, noblest Roman of them all. The Major had physical advantages which placed him head and shoulders above all contemporary humorists, conscious or unconscious. Whether he sailed up the House like an overladen East Indiaman; whether he sat on the bench with the tips of his fingers meeting across his corpulence, whilst his mouth twitched sideways as if he were trying to catch a fly; or whether he stood on his feet addressing the House apparently through a speaking trumpet, the Major irresistibly moved to laughter.

I suppose no man was so genuinely surprised as he when his maiden speech was received with shouts of laughter, members literally rolling about in their seats, holding with both hands their pained sides. The occasion was Mr. Newdegate's annual motion for the inspection of convents. The Major, not only a chivalrous gentleman but a good Catholic, was shocked at the threat of desecration of the privacy of Irish ladies by Commissioners armed with the authority of the law. He had devoted much care and research to the preparation of a speech opposing Mr. Newdegate's motion. The choicest part of it, to which everything led up, was the picture of some historic nun, boldly facing the Commissioners, with a verbatim report of her remarks on the occasion. It was understood that the nun in question was of Royal birth, who, either wearied of pomp and vanity, or driven from her high estate by cruel man, had betaken herself to a nunnery.

The House had with difficulty kept merriment within bounds up to the moment when the Royal recluse faced the wicked Commissioners. Thereupon the Major, havingto speak the nun's part, with dramatic instinct assumed a plaintive, almost a piping, voice. The nun was supposed to give a summary of her personal history to the Commissioners. But the Major never got beyond the detail, "I had a sister, her name was Sophia——." Even Disraeli, accustomed to sit sphinx-like on the Treasury Bench, joined in the shout of laughter that greeted this effort, and brought the Major's address to incoherent conclusion. This speech lifted the Major into a favoured position occupied by him till, cut off by the relentless command of Mr. Parnell, who had no sympathy with this kind of thing, he exchanged the Senate for the Board Room of the Waterford Poor Law Guardians.

THE SPHINX SMILES.

Possibly there is no place in the present Parliament for a Major O'Gorman. Certainly there was no one returned at the last General Election who could fill it.

BALLOTING FOR PLACES.

Among the not least substantial reforms effected in the present Session is that whereby, on the opening day, the process of balloting for places for private motions was relegated to an upper chamber. When, last year, the House of Commons, fresh from the polls, met on the eve of a memorable Session, two full hours of its precious time were wasted by a process that would not be tolerated in any other business assembly of the world. Out of a total of 670 members, 400 came down inflamed with desire to set somebody or something right. This they proposed to do either by moving a resolution or introducing a Bill. The House of Commons, whose order of procedure dates back to the Commonwealth, has ever been accustomed to this human weakness. It provided for it by the regulation that private members so possessed should ballot for precedence. Ministers, who also have a Bill or two to bring in, being masters of the situation, forthwith fix the day upon which they will take action. Private members must take the chances of the ballot.

That was all very well in former times, when at the opening of a new Session ten, twenty, or at most thirty members struggled for "an early day." On Tuesday, the 1st of February, 1893, the day which marked the doom of an ancient practice, over four hundred members desired to give notice of motion. Whilst preliminary business was going forward, the stranger in the Gallery would see a long line of members slowly making their way between the table and the Front Opposition Bench, to the great inconvenience of right hon. gentlemen seated thereon. Arrived by the clerk's desk, each man wrote his name on a sheet of foolscap, and passed gloomily on, making himself a fresh nuisance by returning to his seat along the crowded back benches. Each line of the foolscap on which a name was written was numbered. The clerk at the table prepared slips of paper carrying corresponding numbers, which he twisted up and threw into the box before him.

When the House presumably sat down to business, the Speaker took in hand the sheets of foolscap containing the list of members desiring to give notice. The clerk at the table tossed together the folded pieces of paper in the box, as if he were making a salad with his fingers. Then he took one out and called aloud the figure printed on it. Say it was 380. The Speaker, turning over his sheaf of papers, found that on the line 380 was written the name of Mr. Weir or Dr. Macgregor, and in sonorous voice recited it. That meant that the member in question had secured first place for his motion, and was at liberty to select what with due regard to all circumstances he looked upon as the most favourable day.

Suppose Mr. Weir were the happy man. He would rise, glance slowly round the House, produce hispince-nez, place it on his nose with solemn gesture, and in thrilling voice observe: "Mr. Speaker, Sir—I beg to give notice that on such and such a day I shall ask leave to bring in a Bill authorizing the local authorities at Ardmurchan Point to remove the village pump three yards and a half to the west of the point at which it now stands." What French reporters callmouvementconsequent upon this announcement having subsided, Mr. Milman, most patient andlong-suffering of men, dived once more into the lucky box and fished out, with ostentatious integrity, another chance missive. The Speaker consulted his list again; possession of the second place was determined—and so on to the melancholy end.

A PARLIAMENTARY PARLOUR GAME.

Regarded as a parlour game, this performance has recommendations at least equal to Consequences, or Cross Questions and Crooked Answers. There is the excitement amongst members whose names have been written down as to who may be concerned in the fateful figure just drawn. Then there is the sort of book-keeping by double entry that must needs go on throughout the process. When the chances of the ballot have given away the best day, the next best day must be ticked off, and members yet uncalled must be ready to spring up when their time comes and claim it. For the general body of members there is the joke, endeared by long acquaintance, of the member who has written his name first on the list, having his number turn up, as it usually does, at the end of the first hour and a half of the process.

MR. WEIR: "MR. SPEAKER, SIR."

Even regarded as a parlour game, it palls upon one after the first hour and a half. Writing about it in theDaily News, of the 2nd of February in last year, I ventured to describe it as "a mechanical performance which might well be added to the useful labours of the Committee clerks, leaving the Speaker and the House of Commons opportunity for devoting their energies to more delicate duties." Twelve months later, Mr. Gladstone, incited by a question on the paper, privily brought the subject under the notice of the Speaker, who, with that courage which enables him from time to time to rise superior to effete traditions—and such courage when displayed in the Chair of the House of Commons is heroic—undertook to make an end of the absurdity. When the House of Commons met for the new Session in March last, the process of balloting for places was quietly and effectively carried on by private members in one of the Committee rooms, and two hours of time, with much vexation of spirit, was saved to the House of Commons.

IN DEBATE ON THE ADDRESS.

Now this absurdity has been boldly grappled with there is hope that another anachronism may be relegated to its appropriate limbo. It is quite time the House of Commons, if it is to vindicate its claim to be a business assembly, should make an end of the whole machinery of the Address in reply to the Speech from the Throne. This, also, was well enough in the days of Old Sarum. It is now, for all practical purposes, as archaic as the hunt for traces of Guy Fawkes, which to this day precedes the opening of each Session, and it is not nearly so picturesque.

The object with which debate on the Address was originally devised was to provide convenient opportunity of challenging the existence of the Government, or at least of seriously debating some crucial line of their policy. It was a full-dress affair, chiefly confined to the giants of debate. If business were not meant, the conversation was usually brought to a conclusion before the dinner-hour on the opening night of the Session. It was confined to the mover and seconder of the Address, the Leader of the Opposition who criticised the Ministerial programme, and the Leader of the House who replied. There, as a rule, was an end of it. Even if fighting were meant and a division contemplated, it was only on rare occasions that the combat was carried over a single night. The House cheerfully sat till one or two in the morning to reach a conclusion of the matter.

The last time the House of Commons completed the debate on the Address at a single sitting was in the first Session of the Parliament elected in 1874. That same Parliament saw the birth of a party which, in a few years, changed many things in the ordinary procedure of the House of Commons. It was the Irish members, with Mr. Parnell and Mr. Biggar just coming to the front, who discovered the opportunities latent in the ceremony of debate on the Address for obstructing business and embarrassing the Ministry. The lesson was quickly assimilated by other factions, and of late years it has come to be a matter of course that debate on the Address shall be extended beyond a week. Last year ten of the freshestdays of the young Session were thus wasted. If the Address were the only opportunity presented for raising miscellaneous questions of public interest, the procedure would be defensible, even commendable. What happens is, that on the Address prolonged preliminary conversations take place round subjects which already stand upon the agenda of business, and will, in due course, be discussed again at further length, upon a notice of motion or the introduction of a Bill.

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