The following account of the manner of speaking and voting by the Lords and Commons, is given in A Key to both Houses of Parliament:
"In the House of Lords, the Peers give their votes or suffrages, by beginning with the lowest baron; and so on with the rest, seriatim, until all have expressed their opinions; each one answering apart, 'Content,' or 'Not Content.' If the affirmatives and negatives should happen to be equal in number, the question is invariably presumed to be in the negative, (semper praesumitur pro negante,) and the Not Contents have the effect of an absolute majority. In the House of Commons, the members vote by Ayes and Noes, altogether: but if it be doubtful which is the greater number, the House divides. If the question be whether any bill, petition, &c. is to be brought into the House, then the Ayes, or approvers of the same, go out; but, if it be upon anything which the House is once possessed of, the Noes go out. Upon all questions where the House divides, the Speaker appoints four tellers—two of each opinion; who, after they have told or numbered those within, place themselves in the passage between the Bar and the door, in order to tell those who went out; who, till then, are not permitted to re-enter the House. This being done, the two tellers who have the majority take the right hand, and all four placing themselves within the bar, make three reverences as they advance towards the table, where they deliver the written numbers, saying, 'the Ayes that went out are so many: the Noes who remain are so many:' and vice versa as it may happen. This the Speaker repeats, declaring the majority.
"In a committee of the whole House, the way of dividing is by changing sides, the Ayes taking the right, and the Noes taking the left hand of the Speaker's chair. On such occasions there are but two tellers.
"In each House the act of the majority binds the whole. This majority is openly declared, and the votes, with the names of their authors attached, are generally published in the newspapers; so that the people at large are well enabled to judge of the conduct of their legislators and representatives. This notoriety doubtless produces a very beneficial effect in preserving the integrity of the members of both houses. It is true that when the House of Commons is about to divide, the speaker orders the gallery to be cleared, and all strangers are compelled to withdraw, that the members may be free from popular influence in giving their votes. But, as tellers are appointed to count the votes on each side, there can be no collusion or deception in the decision of any question; at the same time, this method is attended with sufficient publicity for every constitutional purpose. Indeed, it has ever been held the law, rule, and usage of the House of Commons, that all strangers are there only by sufferance, consequently, whenever a member gives notice to the Speaker that he perceives a stranger or strangers, it is the invariable custom of the latter to order them to withdraw; otherwise the sergeant-at-arms will take them into custody, and so enforce the Standing Orders of the House for their exclusion. The publication of the speeches and votes delivered in Parliament is a modern practice, and certainly a breach of the privileges of the members; consequently it may at any time be prohibited by the enforcement of the Standing Orders of either House.
"In the House of Commons, the Speaker never speaks to any question, except the House be in a committee; nor does he even vote, unless the number of votes on both sides of the House be equal; when his casting vote decides the majority. In the Lords, if the Chancellor be desirous of giving his opinion, he must leave the woolsack, and go to his place among that rank of nobility to which he belongs. If he be not a peer, he may neither speak to the question, nor vote upon it; but if a peer, he has a vote on every question. The Speaker of the Commons is prohibited by the rules of that House from persuading or dissuading the members in the passing of any bill: his duty is merely to make a plain and short narrative of its objects. When any member of the Commons is desirous of speaking on a bill before the House, he stands up in his place; uncovered, and directs his speech to the Speaker. In the House of Peers, on the contrary, the orator addresses himself to the Lords generally, only. In either case he may remain on his legs for an indefinite length of time: using whatever arguments, and entering into as many details, as he pleases; but, having once sat down, he is not permitted, unless personally reflected on, to speak again on the same day, to the same matter; or on the same reading of the same bill, even although his arguments be confuted by another member: but, if the whole house should be turned into a committee on any business, then any member may reply as often as he pleases, or as the chairman of the said committee may judge expedient. If it happen that any member of either House should utter words offensive to the King's majesty, or to the House itself, he is immediately called to the bar: in the House of Commons he sometimes, on his knees, receives a reprimand from the Speaker, and is obliged to apologize: if the offence be great, he may, by the Speaker's warrant, be sent to the Tower, or even to Newgate. When a member, during the heat of debate, happens to be betrayed into intemperate language towards another member he is merely called to 'Order' by the Speaker, and this call has generally the desired effect of quelling all animosity between the parties; but if, as sometimes has happened, anything should be uttered amounting to a challenge to settle the dispute 'out of doors,' the Speaker invariably insists upon a pledge from both, 'upon their honour,' that there shall be no fight, and generally succeeds in making them shake hands; otherwise, he has it in his power to commit the would-be combatants to the safe-keeping of the sergeant-at-arms, and to bind the mover to keep the peace. If any member, notwithstanding the call to 'Order,' persist in being disorderly, it is customary for the Speaker to name him; by which indication he is sure to incur the displeasure or censure of the House."
W.G.C.
POOR LAWS
Before the Reformation there were no Poor Rates; the charitable dole given at the Religious Houses, and church-ale in every parish did the business. In every parish there was a church house, to which belonged spits, pots, crocks, &c. for dressing provision. Here the housekeepers met and were merry, and gave their charity. The young people met there too, and had dancing and bowling, shooting at butts, &c. A. Wood says there were few or no alms-houses before Henry VIII. In every church and large inn was a poor man's box.—From Aubrey's MSS. Collections.
It should be recollected that the present mode of assessment for the relief of the poor in England, was not adopted till every other mode had been tried. Before the dissolution of the religious houses, temp. Henry VIII., paupers were licensed to beg within certain limits (22nd. Henry VIII., chap. 12.) and magistrates were authorized to receive and support them, coming to the places of their birth, by voluntary and charitable alms, and a method was prescribed for collecting those alms. In the reign of Edward VI., laws were passed for enforcing charitable voluntary contributions (5th and 6th Edw. VI., chap. 2.) Persons refusing to give according to their means were to be admonished; first by the minister, and then by the bishop. These provisions were found insufficient, and it was enacted early in the reign of Elizabeth, that if the parties were insensible to the clerical and episcopal admonitions, they should be bound over by the minister or bishop to the quarter sessions; where they were again to be admonished; and if they remained refractory, the justices and churchwardens were to assess them according to their discretion. (5th Eliz. chap. 3.) In the 14th year of her reign the act was passed and provision made for regular assessments, and the appointment of overseers provided for; which the subsequent acts of the 18th, 39th, and 43rd of the same reign completed, and which has still remained.
ERNLE CRASHAW.
Near Weymouth.
THE NATURALIST
ANIMAL INSTINCT: ANECDOTE OF A TAME SNAKE
(To the Editor.)
The following remarkable circumstance clearly proves how foreign to children, is the fear or even the idea of danger; and, at the same time, it presents to the contemplative mind a striking instance of the wisdom which the Almighty has displayed in the works of the creation! In what a wonderful manner has he endowed all his creatures with sensibility, regulated their habits, and provided for their wants; and so ingeniously are the animal and vegetable kingdoms arranged, that the former is, in a great measure, dependent on the latter for nourishment and support.
From the study of Nature may be deduced a most valuable lesson: namely, to think nothing that exists on the face of the globe unworthy of our attention and notice: and were we to confine ourselves to the practice of this excellent maxim, we should not rest satisfied, until we had obtained a complete insight into the economy and habits of such curious objects.
A labouring man residing near the White Cross, (about a mile westward of the city of Hereford,) and occupying a cottage belonging to Thomas Webb, Esq. of that place, in the month of May last, repeatedly observed one of his children (a little girl not eighteen months old,) reserving at meal-time a part of her allowance of food, and carrying it invariably to one particular corner of the house. Curiosity induced the father to watch more minutely the proceedings of the child, and great was his astonishment, when on the girl as usual repairing to the spot, and making a noise something similar to the chirping of a bird, a snake appeared out of a hole in the wall, and fearlessly partook of the repast provided for it by its infantine attendant.
Such a circumstance is very uncommon, though not unprecedented; for that indefatigable naturalist, Gilbert White, mentions a tame snake in his meritorious Natural History of Selborne. The greater degree of surprise must be attributed to the case itself, that a child so young should have the courage to approach an animal of the reptile order; but it serves only to corroborate the statement previously made:—children are destitute of fear, and consequently have no dread of danger.
In a former number (549) of The Mirror, appeared a paper headed "The Habits of the Common Snake," purported to be extracted from the Magazine of Natural History. The doctrine enforced by the writer of this article, as regards the impracticability of domesticating a snake, has been proved entirely erroneous by the fact recited; and were there no positive instance adduced to the contrary, it does not follow that, because his effort, were ineffectual, such a thing is utterly impossible; indeed, I think, the failure of his project may be dated from the means to which he resorted for its accomplishment. The snake we know is naturally very timid, and shuns even the society of its fellow-creatures; and consequently, must have a great dread of the presence of human beings. Then why, in the name of sense, did he suffer it to be handled by children; and what vessel could he have found worse adapted to his purpose than one composed of glass, in which the movements of its inmate were subjected to the continual gaze of bystanders? He may, perhaps, consider his plan a good one, and bring the case I have mentioned to support his argument, as the snake was tamed by the same means he himself had partially adopted; but it is totally different. Much more may be effected by the agency of one little child, than by the assistance of a number of older and consequently more unmanageable beings. One would suppose, by his attempting to "charm it" with music, that he put unlimited belief in the fables of old; but, alas! the poor creature had heard enough of nursery strains to render it deaf to the beauties of softer melody. The language with which he concludes his remarks is as unjust as it is uncalled for, and such as none but an illiberal and narrow-minded observer would, choose to apply to so beautiful a creature.[4 - The passage to which our kindly Correspondent refers is as follows: "The serpent, instead of being the emblem of wisdom, should have been an emblem of stupidity."—See Mirror, vol. xviii. p. 343.] Even the cat[5 - See Mirror, vol. xviii. p. 356.] (the most ravenous domestic animal we have,) has been known, when confined, to permit mice to pass unmolested through the cage in which it was imprisoned; then why should he expect that an animal which (as he asserts) can live upwards of thirty days without food, would put itself so far out of its way as to gratify an idle spectator, by devouring in his presence, frogs, mice, and other such "delicacies of the season," when neither inclination, nor the wants of nature, stimulated it to the task.
PHILAETHES.
Hereford.
THE BUSTARD
The Bustard, huge Rasor, with gular pouch long,
With legs formed for running, and beak that is strong,
Whose presence this island regards now as rare.
Jennings's Ornithologia.
This bird is of the same order as the Dodo (the gallinaceous, cock or pheasant), figured and described at page 311. There are seventeen species, which form the genus Otis of Linnaeus. They are natives of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Their characteristics are—bill strong, a little incurvated; toes, three before, none behind; legs long, and naked above the knees. The specimen here figured is the Great Bustard, or Tarda, said to be the largest of British birds, sometimes weighing as much as thirty pounds. It is found in some parts of this country, and inhabits also the open plains of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Its colour is wave-spotted with black, and rufous; beneath, white; length, four feet; female not so large, weighing about twelve pounds: she has also different shades of colour. The male has a long pouch, (see the Cut), beginning under the tongue, and reaching to the breast, capable of holding several quarts of water—supposed to be for supplying the hen while sitting on the young. The cheek-feathers are elongated, so as to form on each side a sort of mustachio. It subsists on grains and herbs; it also feeds on worms and insects, and according to late observations, on rats and field-mice;[6 - Shaw's Zoolog. Lectures, vol. i. 1809.] is solitary, shy, and timid; flies heavily, but runs swiftly; is quick of sight and hearing; lays two, pale, olive-brown eggs, with darker spots, in a hole scraped in the ground. In autumn Bustards are gregarious, when they leave the open downs for more sheltered situations. The eggs are eagerly sought after, for the purpose of hatching under hens: they have been reared thus in Wiltshire. As they are very valuable birds, and eagerly sought after, they are scarce. Mr. Jennings doubts whether they still exist in Wiltshire; but, from a paper lately read before the Linnaean Society, by Messrs. Sheppard and Whitear, it appears that Bustards now breed in the open parts of Suffolk and Norfolk: they have, too, been domesticated by Mr. Hardy, of Norwich.[7 - Ornithologia, p. 206.] Mr. Jennings, in a note to the lines above quoted, observes, "There were formerly great flocks of Bustards in this country, upon the wastes and in woods, where they were hunted by greyhounds, and easily taken. They have been latterly recommended to be bred as domestic fowls; and, to those who desire novelty, the Bustard seems to be peculiarly an object for propagation. The flesh is delicious; and it is supposed that good feeding and domestication might stimulate them to lay more eggs." We were aware that the Bustard was formerly eaten, and remember their mention among the delicacies of chivalric feasts, and in the bills of fare at civic banquets: probably, they are on the Guildhall table at the moment we are writing—on Lord Mayor's Day.
The Great Bustard.
Among the other species of Bustards are the Little, or Field, and the thick-kneed, Stone-curlew, or Norfolk Plover. There are also some fine species in India, where they are generally in pairs, but sometimes in families of four and five: as they do not fly high, they are sometimes pursued on horseback, and fired at with pistols. A young hen makes a particularly fine dish at table: the flesh of the breast is full of triangular cavities.[8 - Mag. Nat. Hist. vol. iii. p. 517.] The Bustard accordingly bears a high price in the Indian markets: in some districts it is called the florikan.
The Bustard is stated to have been known to descend suddenly from its flight, and from some unknown caprice, to attack a horse and its rider with great violence; and with such blind fury as to suffer itself to be seized by the traveller rather than attempt an escape. Two instances of this kind are recorded in the Gentleman's Magazine of about the year 1807.
FINE ARTS
CROSSES
In a recent Number (563) we adverted to the origin of these interesting structures, and attributed their erection to pious feelings, as well as for purposes of a commercial character. The specimens before us appear to have belonged to the latter appropriation—inasmuch as they are what are commonly termed Market Crosses. The first is situate at Leighton Buzzard, or as the name was anciently written, Leighton beau-desert, on the borders of Buckinghamshire, and said to be the Lygean-burgh of the Saxon Chronicle, which was taken from the Britons by Cuthwulph, in the year 571. The principal of the antiquities of the town is the above Cross. It is of a pentagonal form, and of beautiful pointed architecture: it is stated to have been built upwards of five hundred years, but the name of its founder is not known. The anxiety of the inhabitants of Leighton-Buzzard to preserve this relic of olden time is entitled to special mention.
(At Leighton Buzzard.)
"In the year 1650, this cross was presented at the court-leet as being in such a ruinous state, that it greatly endangered the lives of those persons who were passing near it. Upon this occasion a rate of 4d. was levied upon every inhabitant to defray the charge of repairing it. The height of the cross is twenty-seven feet two inches, from the top of the stone-work to the basement story, which is seven feet four inches from the ground, at the lowest side, and consists of five rows of steps rising from the earth. The centre pillar, which supports the arch, is eight feet two inches high, and one foot one inch and a quarter wide, on the side fronting the largest angle. The upper story is disposed into five niches, and there were formerly as many pinnacles at the corners; but one of them has been destroyed: each niche contained a statue. The first appears to have been intended to represent a bishop, another seems like the Virgin and Jesus; a third appears to be Saint John the Evangelist; the others are too much mutilated to be known. Over each arch attached to the cornice, surrounding the building, there were three grotesque heads. The entire height of the cross, from the lowest base to the top of the vane, is thirty-eight feet. It is constructed of stone, and is situated in an open area, near the market-house."
(At Holbeach.)
The second Cross is at Holbeach, in the Holland division of Lincolnshire. The Cross is situate in the market-place of the town; and it is supposed to have been raised about the year 1253; near which period, Thomas de Malton, Lord Egremont, obtained for Holbeach the grant of a weekly market and annual fair.
WINTER EXHIBITION OF PICTURES, AT THE SUFFOLK STREET GALLERY
We attended the private view of this very attractive exhibition, and were happy to find the galleries filled with distinguished Artists and Patrons of Art. The collection is of a novel character, inasmuch as it associates the works of deceased and living British Artists; though, discouraging as may be the fact, the juxtaposition is not to the advantage of the latter: alas! "that's true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true." Nevertheless, the object of the British Artists' Society in forming this collection, is laudable in every respect; since "it is evident that an Exhibition of the works of celebrated deceased Masters is calculated to benefit, in an essential degree, the race of living Artists, who will here have an opportunity of carefully inspecting, and deriving instruction from many of those pictorial efforts which are the pride and honour of the British School:" so true is it, in the case of painters, that the good which men do, lives after them. To the public, we mean the sight-craving public, this Exhibition may be of paramount interest: it may perchance modify their admiration of faithless vanity-feeding portraits, and gaudy compositions of vulgar life, full of coarse effect, and painted as less ingenious articles are made, to catch a purchaser.
The Exhibition embraces specimens of the works of nearly seventy deceased Artists, from various collections. Among them are Reynolds, Hogarth, Gainsborough, Morland, Wilson, Fuseli, Zoffani, Blake, Opie, De Loutherbourg, Northcote, Harlow, Jackson, Bonington, Lawrence, &c. &c.; and, as many of the specimens are associated with pleasurable recollections, we will endeavour to notice a few of them, in succession with the works of the living Artists.
1. Alderman Boydell, painted by Muller, and the property of Messrs. Moon, Boys, and Greaves, who, as the successors of the Alderman, retain his portrait as a kind of heirloom in connexion with the best days of British Art.
10. and 12. Duke and Duchess of Leinster. Reynolds. The drawing of the latter is not quite worthy of the President's fame.
7. Farm Yard and Pigs. Morland. Painted, for aught we know, at the artist's usual rate, when in confinement, "four-guineas per day with his drink."
8. Landscape. Gainsborough. Stamped, as Mr. Cunningham says, all Gainsborough's works are, "with the image of old England."
9. Sir W. Curtis, Bart. Lawrence. A fine portrait of the City wit: his face is lit up with good nature, such as proved in the Baronet's career, a surprising foil to the madness of party.
11. Landscape and Cattle. The former by Barrett, the latter by Gilpin. Cunningham calls Barrett "an indifferent dauber;" rather a harsh term in connexion with this picture.
18. Rape of the Lock. A picture of merit, by Henry Wyatt.
21. Death of Oedipus. One of Fuseli's most tragical creations.
31 and 33. Landscape and Figures. Morland.
34. Diana and Calista. Wilson. A beautifully poetic composition: yet the painter lived and died nearer to indigence than ease.
35. Alexander Pope and Martha Blount. Jervas. Of comparatively little interest for its pictorial merit; though Pope has enshrined the painter in elegant couplet. If poetry and painting be sister arts, they are rarely twin.