PARLIAMENTARY.

Observer, Volume 2, Issue 46, 30 July 1881, Page 514

PARLIAMENTARY.

4. OVER THE SPEAKER'S CHAIR. BY ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH. (FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.) Ormonds amendment.— Like most otner no - confidence debates, . the present one has degenerated into langour and indifference. Members talk to their constituents and not to the House. The lower branch of the Legislature resembles the Maori runanga held outside of a Native Land Court. The Maori settles outside of the Court who shall be the owners of lands, and the Court, as a rule, registers his determination. So men talk in the House of Representatives, without any idea or hope of influencing a House or convincing the unconvinced, as the fate of all measures are either settled in caucus or by the hope of favours to come. As a governing machine, the General Assembly is a mistake and a delusion, as votes are bought or stolen, or obtained by finesse, to the detriment of the common weal. This arises in a great measure from the fact that few men have really any convictions. John Brown votes with the Government because he wants a Drainage Bill passed ; John Smith votes with John Hall because he hates Grey ; John Robinson votes with Ormond because his wife's sister's first, cousin has not been promoted in the Civil Service ; and John Jones votes with John Hall because John Hall's wife called on John Jones's marital moiety. Taken as a class, the Maori members are the only men in the Legislature who vote from conviction. They manage in some way or other to obtain a clear knowledge of the purport of a bill, according to their primitive notions of right or expediency. Hence the objection made by the member for Geraldine as to their presence in the House. A well-known man said to one the other day, " What a fool Te Wheoro must have been to give up a good salary for the sake of coming into the House !" Apropos to the same subject, a Maori member remarked, " What righthas Wakefield to talk about the right of property when he has only his tongue and his pen to keep him in bread ?" Thus, when you see a Ministerialist talking to twelve representatives of the people out of a House of eighty-eight, as happened on Friday last, you not only see how futile has the issue before the House become, and how questionable is the farce of responsible government for a people not numbering more souls than a second rate English municipality contains. It is like the employment of a thousand horse-power engine to boil akettle for a party of two. You see men heat the air day after day when they know they are only beating the air. They are engaged on as profitless a task as a convict grinding the wind, the only variation in the monotony is the observation of how the grinding is done. Some men preserve a sullen others a listless taciturnity. Some lose their temper and vent their spleen in what is termed paltry language. Some are as a breeding woman, others as shrewish as a philosopher's wife. Some assume the Avisdom and the dignity of an owl, others indulge in the garrulous manner of a Praise-God-Barebones preacher. A few will 101 lat length on the benches day after day endeavouring to learn something from the speakers, a vain and hopeless task. Mercurial spirits flit about the House, and frequently are found at Bellamy's bar ; while the inquisitive will haunt the reporters' room for news. Some men only speak when the ladies' gallery is full, others only when they have been mellowed by the cup that inebriates. Asa rule, the speaker displays no more talent in oratory than will be found in a debating society, and those who talk most as a rule know least. Atkinson at times rolls forth a volume of statistics which no man understands, and Grey announces the conception of principles the working out of which on man can foresee. The most curious study in the House is the member for Port Chalmers — hearing all, noting all, marking in his memory every point that is made, and saying nothing; the veteran of the House is, perhaps, after all, its most potent factor. His opinions are fixed. The firm texture of his Scotch mind no sophistry can puzzle, no contretemps disturb. He set his face as a flint, and his voice as the inscription on a table of brass against Centralism five years ago, and has remained insensible to argument or seduction ever since ; and now he sees that the country and the Legislature are hearkening unto him. He has waited, and can afford to wait, because he knew that he was in the right. But the end of Centralism is not yet. It is too deeply rooted to be uptorn by a resolution of the House, or the first declaration

of a dislike by the people. It will continue to flourish like the green bay David wrote about while the waters of Pactolus roll over its roots, but when the stream of English gold ceases to flow, the central trunk and branches will wither away and die, and only those who found shade and shelter under its foliage will mourn that it has become a thing of the past. There is no reason whatever why the Custom duties you pay in Auckland should be expended in Wei lington. If you like the spending of your money by other people instead of by yourself, well and good. If the galled jade feels not the gall, why should anyone else complain. And herein the country suffers loss from no man being able to lead the House and govern the country. A writer in the New Zealand Times on Monday morning, who evidently is behind the footlights, says, when deploring this state of things : — "Sheehan might have been Premier of New Zealand at the present time had he not rather loved the flesh pot of Egypt ;" and I am inclined to think Sheehan has, like Mary, chosen the better part. Upper House.— lt is a great relief and change to get out of the turmoil, heated feelings, occasional langour. and bad grammar of the Lower House and drop in the Council Chamber. The wheels of life runs more smoothly there, and the bitterness of party feeling is not so palpable as in the popular chamber. The statesmanship and debating power of the Council can stand comparison with the popular Chamber. There may be a Councillor or two whose education has been sadly neglected, but the same deficiency is also found among the people's representatives ; but the uniformed Councillor knows how to hold his tongue As knowledge is where the daughter of truth is found, there is an air of anxiety about the representative strangely at contrast with the abandon of a Councillor. There is rarely even a display of care or consciousness of responsibility about the proceedings of the Council. Its members have no electorate to please and no constituency to woo. All is calm and tranquil there. There is no rude or eager competition to catch the Speaker's eye in the .debate ; the desire is not to know what the bulk of the Council will say or how it will vote, but what the particular Councillors will say. Whitaker has the Ministerial table at the left of the Speaker's chair, which he occupies alone ; and Maunsell sits on a chair by the side of the table, ready to get a book or a paper for his chief. Opposite to "Whitaker sits Pollen — the two old Auckland men vis-a* vis. There is a decorous sobriety about the Council which puts the spectator in mind of a lot of upper form school-boys, dressed in their best clothes, waiting to be questioned by an examiner ; and, truth to say, our grown boys in the Council do not disgrace their Colonial training. Yet, after all, the Council is only a travesty of the House of Lords. The last tune I was in the Peers' Chamber I was irresistibly impressed with the conduct of the hereditary lawmakers of the Empire. No one seemed to heed or care what another was doing. One would be writing a note on his knee, another talking to a Primate of all England ; the President of the Council would 'be, perchance, strolling into the lobby, while the leader of the Opposition was engaged in animated conversation with a Ministerialist. The whole place was redolent with the atmosphere of nonchaleuce. During debate the utmost indifference appeared to be shown to the speaker or what lie was saying ; few cries, and fewer cheers. One Lord or Duke seemed to be immersed in answering an arrear of private correspondence; a second was engaged beating the "Devil's Tatoo " or the " lloyal March " with his fingers on his knee ; one had gone to sleep, and the man most interested in what the speaker was saying preserved an air of the utmost indifference. Yet our Councillors do things pretty well after all ; and although Grey and others would like to see the Council abolished, I hope to see it endure, as it forms a pleasant change of an afternoon from the uproar of what Governor Robinson called the popular Chamber, where, unless the speaker is known or is considered to have something worth hearing to say, is only a subdued Babel of murmuring voices. It is, however, a rare thing to see a stranger in the gallery listening to what transpires in the Council Chamber; only at the opening and closing hours of the session are visitors found there. One reporter for the Press Association, one for the N.Z. Times, and one of the Hansard staff, are the only strangers as a rule found in its galleries. A special may walk in for a moment or two, but he feels that he is out of his groove, and takes his departure as soon as his curiosity is satisfied. The women do not go to the Lords' House ; they prefer the Lords coming to theirs. They found the Council Chamber too uninteresting a study members stuck in their places firm and erect, like statues in a wall.