had been commenced in their favour, but boldly to anticipate and meet such agitation, and by conceding so much of its demands as was just and reasonable, deprive it of its dangerous quality, and, so to speak, take the wind out of its sails. Nor should it be considered as other than a portentous symptom if the working classes, engaged as they were in a continual and pressing struggle for subsistence, should take to agitating this question. "When a working man finds himself in such a condition that he must abandon that daily labour on which he is strictly dependent for his daily bread, it is only because then, in railway language, the danger signal is turned on,' and because he feels a strong necessity for action, and a distrust in the rulers who have driven him to that necessity." Mr. Baines' bill was lost by the adoption of the previous question, but it was evident to all that the ten-pound limit was condemned in general opinion, and could not much longer be maintained.

Another minister was compelled by circumstances to execute upon himself the "happy dispatch" before the end of the session. This was Mr. Lowe, the Vice-President of the Council, whom Lord Robert Cecil (now Lord Salisbury) charged with mutilating the annual reports of Inspectors of Schools, and excising from them passages which did not chime in with his own views, before submitting them to the House. An adverse resolution, grounded on this allegation, was carried in a thin House, and Mr. Lowe had no choice but to resign. But the explanation which he subsequently offered made it so abundantly clear that the charge was founded on a misunderstanding, and that he had done nothing but what the practice of his and other departments justified, that Lord R. Cecil frankly admitted that, had this explanation been made at first, he should have abandoned his charges; and the House was induced with little difficulty, on the motion of Lord Palmerston, to rescind the inculpatory resolution which it had just passed.

The Convocation of the Province of Canterbury-which, instead of being prorogued immediately after its opening, as had been the case since the reign of Anne, has gradually obtained the royal license, since the friendly intervention of Lord Derby in 1852, of proceeding to the dispatch of business-after discussions of extraordinary prolixity, passed what was called a " Synodical Judgment" (June 21, 1864), condemning the well-known work entitled "Essays and Reviews." Some time after, the matter was brought before the House of Lords, Lord Houghton desiring to know what was the legal effect of the judgment, and whether, in passing it, the Convocation had not exceeded its powers. On this occasion the Lord Chancellor (Lord Westbury) made a speech, the like of which, for scathing wit and contemptuous banter, has been seldom heard, "There are," he said, "three modes of dealing with Convocation, when it is permitted to come into action and transact real business. The first is, while they are harmlessly busy, to take no notice of their proceedings. The second is, when they seem likely to get into mischief, to prorogue them, and put an end to their proceedings; the third, when they have done something clearly beyond their powers, is to bring them before a

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court of justice and punish them." He went on to state that should any attempt be made to give validity to any act of Convocation, without the consent of the Crown, the persons so offending would incur the penalties of premunire. "I am afraid my noble friend has not considered what the pains and penalties of a premunire are, or his gentle heart would have melted at the prospect. The Most Reverend Prelate and the bishops would have to appear at the bar, not in the solemn state in which we see them here, but as penitents in sackcloth and ashes. And what would be the sentence? I observe that the Most Reverend Prelate gave two votes—his original vote and a casting vote. I will take the measure of his sertence from the sentence passed by a bishop on one these authors-a year's deprivation of his benefice. For two years, therefore, the Most Reverend Prelate would be condemned to have all the revenues of his high position sequestrated. I have not ventured-I say it seriously-I have not ventured to present the question to Her Majesty's Government; for, my lords, only imagine what an opportunity it would be for my right honourable friend the Chancellor of the Exchequer to spread his net, and in one haul take in £30,000 from the highest dignitary, not to speak of the bishops, deans, archdeacons, canons, vicars, all included in one common crime, all subject to one common penalty. Assuming that the report of the judgment which I have read is a correct I am happy to tell your lordships, that what is called a synodical judgment is simply a series of well-lubricated terms-a sentence so oily and so saponaceous* that no one could grasp it. Like an eel, it slips through your fingers

one,

it is simply nothing; and I am glad to tell my noble friend that it is literally no sentence." Much more followed in the same strain.

The tone of indignation which pervaded the Bishop of Oxford's reply showed that the stinging words of the Chancellor had gone home; yet the Bishop's answer, unpremeditated as it must have been, was not lacking in force and dignity. "If a man," he said, "has no respect for himself, he ought at all events to respect the audience before which he speaks; and when the highest representative of the law in England, in your lordships' house, upon a matter involving the liberties of the subject and the religion of the realm, and all those high truths concerning which this discussion has arisen, can think it fitting to descend to ribaldry, in which he knows that he may safely indulge, because those to whom he addresses it will have too much respect for their characters to answer him in like sort-I say that this House has ground to complain of having its character unnecessarily injured in the sight of the people of this land, by one occupying so high a position within it. I know enough of this House, and of the people of England, to know that it is not by trying, in words which shall blister those upon whom they fall, to produce a momentary pain in those who cannot properly reply to them, that great questions can be solved; but that it is by dealing with

The reader will observe the allusion contained in this phrase to a nick-name at that time notoriously applied to one of the most able and versatile members of the Bench of Bishops.

those who hold her ministry, and shall we, her highest ministers, having, under the sanction of our Queen, the opportunity of disavowing these errors, shall we timorously hold our tongues, because if we speak we may be subject to ribald reproach ? or shall we, in the name of the Church of England, clear that ministry from being supposed to be at liberty to declare one thing as the condition of taking it, and then to speak another as the habit of its exercise?' It was not, my lords, to put down opinion; it was to prevent men breaking their solemn obligations that this step was taken."

Parliament was prorogued on the 29th July; and the records of the remaining five months of the year contain

civil.

The English people are commonly called by foreigners apathetic and dull, incurably infected with the gloom of their climate. But it is very certain that no people is more easily roused to a frenzy of enthusiasm by the arrival of a "lion." Generally, it is true, the lion must be a very rare one, and he must be royal; an Eastern monarch, with a swarthy face and a coat blazing with jewels, and a train of native followers holding their very lives by his good leave. If a personage of this kind arrives, though his political importance be infinitesimal and his moral character questionable, all classes of society vie with each other in doing him honour. England goes mad for a time. But once and once only in her recent

VISIT OF GARIBALDI.

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PRESENTATION OF A SWORD TO GARIBALDI AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE.

history has she gone mad in the same way as this for an object wholly disconnected with the glitter and pomp of royalty. This was on the arrival of Garibaldi, in the April of this year (1864). There are various judgments abroad now-a-days upon Garibaldi. Since his visit to England, he has offended many of those who then cheered him warmly by unwise and unseemly interference with religious matters; and there is a party in England, small indeed, but not to be overlooked, who, full of sympathy for a defeated cause, especially a defeated Church cause, and bitterly resenting the means by which the Italian Government finally possessed themselves of Rome -means which they pronounce to have been treacherous and unwarrantable-do not forget that it is to Garibaldi primarily that all that has happened in Italy since the downfall of the Bourbons must be attributed. But, in 1864, the feeling towards him was one of almost unmixed admiration. He was known to be a brave and disinterested soldier. The cup of personal power had been often at his lips, and he had put it calmly aside for the sake of a higher good than that of power -the good of national peace and unity. The wonderful Sicilian expedition, the swift overthrow of Bourbon tyranny in South Italy, his resignation of himself and his conquests into the hands of Victor Emmanuel, and, lastly, his failure and wound at Aspromonte-all these were fresh in men's memories. He had simple manners too, a fine soldier-like presence, and a cheery smile-descriptions of his unpretending life and habits had long before his visit travelled to this country and quickened the popular enthusiasm. Thus it was that all England went out to meet him when he came, and his reception was a triumph for him, and a credit to us. He came by sea to Southampton in the Peninsular and Oriental steamer Ripon. It was Sunday when he arrived; but the quays of Southampton harbour were crowded, and the ships at anchor were alive with a cheering multitude. A small party of personal friends came out in a steam-tug to meet him, the Duke of Sutherland, Mr. Seely, M.P., an old friend of the General's, and a few Italian gentlemen, representatives of their countrymen in England. When they reached the Ripon, there was the General in the saloon waiting for them, his weather-beaten face bright with smiles; and as they neared Southampton and the crowded shores took up again and again the cry of welcome, Garibaldi came forward and stood upon the poop, waving his hand repeatedly, in answer to a greeting which thrilled all the spectators. Beside him stood his two sons, Menotti and Ricciotti Garibaldi, Signor Basso, his friend for fifteen years through war and peace, and his private secretary Dr. Guerzoni, a member of the Italian Parliament. He wore the red shirt, the uniform of those who volunteered with him for the service of Italy, and over it hung a grey and scarlet cloak, which fell round him in dignified folds, and suited his fine head and well-knit frame. Upon reaching the landing-place, the Mayor of Southampton was introduced, and offered him hospitality in the name of the town and corporation. Garibaldi accepted the offer and was driven to the mayor's house by an enthusiastic Garibaldian poetess who had begged hard for the

privilege of conveying him thither in her own carriage. A cheering crowd accompanied him, but, once safely housed, the fatigued "Liberator" retired to his room out of the sight of the popular enthusiasm. He was still lame from the effects of his wound, and required the support of a stick when he walked. On the following day, he crossed the Solent, and spent the remainder of the week with Mr. Seely, at his house in the Isle of Wight. His friends were careful to spare him any undue labour and excitement, for his strength was not yet reestablished; still many people had the privilege of seeing him in this comparatively quiet time of his stay in Eng. land, who will not soon forget his simple kindly presence and ready talk, his zeal not only for Italian liberty, but for the cause of freedom in general, and that childlike element in his nature, which has led him into many mistakes and into more than one rash and foolish utterance of opinion in matters with which he had no concern, but which, seen close by, has a peculiar charm. The General, however, could not be allowed to let too much time slip away in the Isle of Wight, always so attractive in the spring weather, which comes earlier there than in any part of England, and colours the woods and hangs the cliffs with green before a bud on the mainland has broken. London, ever ready for some fresh excitement, and very glad to break the monotony of what promised to be a dull season, was waiting for its prey, and a splendid welcomo was preparing. There was sufficient real feeling and real knowledge about the Italian question among the masses of the metropolis, to secure the champion of a free Italy a warm reception, but before his arrival the infec tious enthusiasm of the well-informed few had spread to the ignorant many, to those who scarcely knew that such a country as Italy existed, and only thought vaguely of Garibaldi as a friend of the poor and oppressed. All along the line from Southampton to the capital, crowds filled the stations, while at Nine Elms, where the General was to alight, a multitude of working men, arranged in procession according to their trades, awaited him. Side by side with them stood peers and members of Parlia ment, and when Garibaldi arrived he was received like a prince, though there was a touch of passion in the reception which is granted to few princes.

In the name of Britain's sons and daughters of toil, we bid you welcome to this metropolis," said the address of the working men, high-flown indeed, but, unlike most addresses, sincere. "We hail you as the representative of a regenerated and united Italy, and for the love we bear to that beautiful land and its noble people-so long oppressed, but now, thanks to your devoted patriotism and indomitable courage, almost freed from the foreign oppressors-we bid you welcome. Your name is to us a household word, the symbol of liberty, associated with lofty daring, bold enterprise, and unselfish devotion to the cause of human progress. For your noble deeds we thank, love, and welcome you; and in the name, the sacred name, of that liberty for which you have fought and bled, and which you have finally won for an oppressed people, we give you a place, the first place, in our hearts; and, while doing so, we cannot forget that

A.D. 1864.]

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To this the General, leaning upon his stick, and evidently much moved, replied in a few broken sentences. His knowledge of English, never great, was apt to fail him in moments of excitement, and he was obliged to content himself with a few disjointed expressions of gratitude and pleasure. His presence, however, was enough, and his speech was lost in the cheering. A carriage drawn by four horses was waiting for him outside the station, to which the eager crowd inside at last allowed the Duke of Sutherland, whose guest he was to be, to carry him away. As it passed through Nine Elms, crowds, kept in order by mounted policemen, lined the roads, the front ranks of which pressed forward to shake the General's hand. At Wandsworth Road a halt was made while a monster procession of trades unions filed past. Upwards of 30,000 men took part in it, and as they passed the General one and all broke out in cheers and cries. Thirty thousand English workmen are a fine sight at any time, but London had more still to offer Garibaldi. To the dense multitude gathered at Vauxhall and Kennington, 30,000 men would have been as nothing. As far as the eye could see, road, windows, roofs were black with human beings, while down the closely-packed ranks ran one huge continuous cheer as the carriage approached. In Lambeth Road farther progress became for a time impossible, in spite of the efforts of the band of Italians preceding the carriage to clear the way. Nor was the enthusiasm less in the richer and more aristocratic portions of the city. Courage and sincerity found their meed here as elsewhere. The sunset on Westminster Bridge over the struggling crowds, and the calm river dotted with shipping beyond, was a sight not easily forgotten. It must have been a proud moment for the man thus welcomed by surging thousands of his fellowcreatures. Such an experience may well send the subject of it on his way encouraged and heartened for the future. And yet, perhaps, there is something sad about the unmeasured, unreasoning homage which humanity pays to those whom it holds to be its benefactors. Are there so few in the world, and is self-devotion so rare a virtue, that it must be acknowledged by such passionate gratitude?

Trafalgar Square was one vast sea of faces as the procession entered it, while along Pall Mall the clubs were lit up, and the windows and balconies filled with spectators. Ladies in gay dresses made bright spots of colour along the house-fronts, and every successive monument and statue was covered with gazers-boys found precarious seats among the medallions at the foot of the Nelson Column, while Charles I. and his horse were almost hidden from view by a band of adventurous

him, and after his introduction to the Duchess of Sutherland, his friends saw his retirement in the care of his host with relief. So far his visit had been an unexampled success; London had given him a noble welcome, as the most cynical confessed. Of the greater part of Garibaldi's stay in the capital little need be said here. He was fêted by the aristocracy, the best houses in London were open to him, while the leaders of society vied with one another in efforts to please and amuse him. Throughout it all he remained his simple unconscious self, unfeignedly pleased by the admiration and attention shown him, but always glad when he could escape the throng round him for a minute or two, and chat in a corner with a friend. He went one evening to the Opera, and the Royal Italian Opera Company celebrated his visit by performing the two great acts of "Masaniello," the fisher-patriot. Two days were spent in going over the Woolwich Arsenal, and in inspecting the great steam-plough manufactory of Messrs. Howard at Bedford. His visit to the Crystal Palace was the most striking event, however, of this period of his stay. From 25,000 to 30,000 people were congregated in the nave and centre transept of the Palace to bid him welcome. All ranks and professions were represented among them, and the great building | crowded to the roof was an imposing sight. Garibaldi was received at the north wing of the Palace by the various officials of the Crystal Palace Company, by Mr. Grove, whose versatile genius has done so much for music at Sydenham, in the development of the Saturday Concerts, and by representatives of the Italian committees in London, wearing the scarf of the tricolour. The General addressed these last in Italian, and it was then seen with what vigour and ease he could speak when unshackled by the half-understood forms of a foreign tongue. Afterwards, wheeled along the gallery in a Bath chair, he was taken to the nave, where the assembled thousands of spectators were eagerly waiting. When he appeared the enthusiasm was tremendous. The great Handel orchestra, crowded from top to bottom, was one mass of waving handkerchiefs. Again and again the cheers re-echoed along the nave, to be drowned at last in the "Garibaldi Hymn," which was now familiar to all London. The hymn was the prelude to an Italian concert, performed by Italian singers. The inspiriting tuneful melodies of Italy suited the scene well. In every Italian's face shone that love of and profound admiration for the music of his country with which the followers of classical and German art find it so hard to sympathise. A German orchestra would have broken out in the Choral Symphony," and so have lent a colossal voice and meaning to the scene; but perhaps the well-known love-songs and battle-airs of Italian opera were, independent of the compliment to the "Liberator," the best exponents of this gay, pretty scene, and suited best with the red shirts, the flags, the flowers, and the pleased faces

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