Parliament at the services of the historical painters of England; and we
also, in a passing manner, suggested a few compositions worthy of their
pencils. A reconsideration of the matter convinces us that the subject is
too important--too national, to be adopted as merely the fringe of our
article; and we have therefore determined within ourselves to devote our
present essay to a serious discussion of the various pictures that are, or
_ought_, to decorate the interior of the new House of Commons. As for the
House of Lords, we see no necessity whatever for lavishing the fine
inspirations of art on that temple of wisdom; inasmuch as the sages who
deliberate there are, for the most part, born legislators, coming into the
world with all the rudiments of government in embryo in their baby heads,
and, on the twenty-first anniversary of their birthday, putting their legs
out of bed adult, full-grown law-makers. It would be the height of
democratic insolence to attempt to teach these chosen few: it would, in
fact, be a misprision of treason against the sovereignty of Nature, who,
when making the _pia mater_ of a future peer of England, knows very well
the delicate work she has in hand, and takes pains accordingly. It is
different when she manufactures a mob of skulls which, by a jumble of
worldly accidents, or by the satire of Fortune in her bitterest mood, may
ultimately belong to Members of the House of Commons. These she makes, as
they make blocks in Portsmouth-yard, a hundred a minute. All she has to do
is to fulfil her contract with the world, taking care that there shall be
no want of the raw material for Members of Parliament, leaving it to
Destiny to work it up as she may. We have not the slightest doubt,
by-the-by, that poor Nature is often very much confounded by the ultimate
application of her own handiwork. We can fancy the venerable old gossip at
her business, patting up skulls as serenely as our lamented great
grandmother (she wrote a very pretty book on the beauties of population,
and illustrated the work, too, with portraits from her own hand) was wont
to pat up apple-dumplings:--we can imagine Nature--good old soul!--looking