Lord John Russell[164],çoisRené on the 25th of April, introduced a motion in the House of Commons on the state of the national representation in Parliament: Mr. Canning opposed it. The latter, in his turn, introduced a Bill to repeal a portion of the Act depriving Catholic peers of their right of sitting and voting in the House. I was present at these sittings on the woolsack[165], where the Speaker had made me sit. Mr. Canning was present, in 1822, at the sitting of the House of Lords which rejected his Bill; he was hurt at a phrase of the old Chancellor's[166]: the latter, speaking of the author of the Bill, exclaimed scornfully:
"They say he is leaving for India: ah, let him go, this fine gentleman, let him go, and a good journey to him!"
Lord Holland spoke very well, without, however, recalling Mr. Fox. He used to spin round, so that he often presented his back to the House and addressed his remarks to the walls. The peers cried, "Hear, hear!" No one was offended by this eccentricity.
In England, every one expresses himself as he can; petty pleading is unknown; there is no resemblance in the voice or in the delivery of the speakers. The members listen patiently; they are not offended when the speaker has no facility; let him splutter, let him hem and haw, let him seek his words, they find that he has made "a fine speech" if he has uttered a few phrases of good sense. This variety of men who have remained what nature made them ends by being agreeable; it breaks the monotony. It is true that there are only a small number of lords and members of the House of Commons who get up to speak. We, always placed upon a stage, hold forth and gesticulate like a solemn puppet-show. It was a useful study to me to pass from the secret and silent monarchy of Berlin to the public and noisy monarchy of London: one could derive some instruction from the contrast between two nations at the two ends of the ladder.
The arrival of the King, the re-opening of Parliament, the commencement of the Season blended duty, business and pleasure: one could meet the ministers only at Court, at balls, or in Parliament. To celebrate His Majesty's birthday, I dined with Lord Londonderry; I dined on the Lord Mayor's[167] galley, which went up to Richmond: I prefer the miniature _Bucentaur_ in the arsenal at Venice, which no longer bears more than the memory of the Doges and a Virgilian name. In the old days, as an Emigrant, lean and half-naked, I had amused myself, without being Scipio, by throwing stones into the water along that bank now hugged by the Lord Mayor's plump and well-lined barge.