HL Deb 22 July 1901 vol 97 cc1082-105
LORD STANMORE

My Lords, it is not often that I trepass on your Lordships' time. I trust, therefore, that I may be allowed some indulgence in venturing to address you on the present occasion. I wish most heartily that the task which I have undertaken was in better hands than mine, and that the matter was being brough before you by a Member of this House less obscure and more persuasive. The reasons that I, rather than another, have undertaken this duty will appear as I proceed. I regret on this occasion the absence of some noble Lords deeply interested in matters of art, who would, I think, have given me efficient support had they been here. But, above all, I regret the loss which this House and the country sustained some time ago in the death of Lord Leighton, the first painter, I believe, who was promoted to the honour of the peerage, and who would, I know, have given most hearty support to such a motion as that which I am about to bring forward. My motion is that an address be presented to the Crown for the appointment of a Royal Commission similar in character and object to the Fine Arts Commission of 1842. The history of that Commission is not uninteresting, and the effect of its operations was by no means insignificant or unimportant; but so very long a time has elapsed since the appointment of that Commission, and indeed so long a time has elapsed since its functions came to a close, that I believe there are very few noble Lords in the House who now remember exactly what that Commission was, or what it did, while I believe there are many more who never heard of its existence. I therefore fear that I must for a few moments take up your time by recapitulating what the constitution, object, and work of that Commission were.

Very shortly after his arrival in this country, his late Royal Highness the Prince Consort conceived the idea that the building of the new Palace of Westminster, which was then going on, might be made instrumental in promoting the improvement of the state of the fine arts in England, not only the arts of sculpture and painting, but also fine art of every kind—in wood-work, metal-work, glass-work, tile-work, etc. At that time, as we all know, English art was at about its lowest ebb, and those who take an interest in it can never be sufficiently grateful for the efforts which that illustrious person made to promote its improvement. Sir Robert Peel, who was then Prime Minister, entered warmly into the Prince's views. Sir Robert was himself a good connoisseur and a munificent patron of art. It was determined that a Commission should be appointed of which the Prince should be president, and of which certain great officials and others having interest in art and well versed in history should be members. Lord Lansdowne, Lord Aberdeen, Lord Stanhope, Hallam, Macaulay, Rogers, and others were members of the Commission. Sir Charles Eastlake was its secretary, and the Prince himself presided over if for twenty years with untiring energy and assiduity. I believe that there was no report written which was not to a great extent the Prince's work, and certainly the direction of their labour was guided and inspired by him. The Commission, between the years of 1842 and 1861, issued twelve Reports. In those Reports the history of its proceedings may be seen. I am not going to weary the House by a recapitulation of their contents. Sufficient it is to say that the objects the Prince had in view were three—firstly, the promotion and improvement of art generally in England; secondly, the supervision and direction of the works of decoration which were to be undertaken in connection with the new Palace of Westminster; and, thirdly, the use in future of this building as a sort of supplement to Westminster Abbey, in which pictures of great historical events as they occurred should be preserved and statues of distinguished men placed. It was intended that those pictures and statues should be slowly added to from time to time through a long series of generations. The first of those three objects met with a very fair measure of success; that is to say, the general standard of English art was wonderfully improved; not that the improvement was wholly due to the Commission, but it was one of the causes. No one who looks at the average run of English pictures at an exhibition of the Royal Academy, and who remembers what they were sixty years ago, as unfortunately I can, would hesitate for a moment in saying that there is a very marked general improvement. There may be no very great pictures of very great painters that will outshine some of those of former days. Turner was a genius whom, perhaps, we cannot now equal, but the ordinary run of the ordinary pictures has most wonderfully improved. There are much fewer bad ones if there are not many more superlatively good ones, and this I believe to be due in a great measure to the Prince Consort's efforts, and not a little to the work of that Commission. The second object—that of directing and supervising the decoration of this palace—also met with a fair measure of success during the time that the Commission lasted.

After a good deal of preliminary investigation and inquiry they drew up a great scheme for the decoration of this building, using decoration in its widest and largest sense—decoration not merely in painting and sculpture, but all forms of decoration. Every successive Report stated what had been done in the period that had elapsed since the previous Report was issued, and laid down what was to be done in the following year. For many years those schemes were very fairly adhered to, with occasional modifications as circumstances required. A Vote of £4,000 a year was placed at the disposal of the Commission, and they spent it first of all on the pictures, statues, and decoration of this House. They then proceeded to decorate other parts of the building according to the plans laid down. That all went on smoothly during the Prince Consort's lifetime. The twelfth Report of the Commission was the last which his Royal Highness signed, and it is interesting on that account. I believe it was to a large extent his work, and it is interesting as showing no sign whatever of flagging on the part of the Commission. The Commission related what it had done in that year and the year before, and proceeded to state what they contemplated doing in the following year. It may interest the House to know that two of the last statues mentioned as about to be put up were those of two English heroes who certainly might expect to find a place in this building, for they were distinguished members of this House—Nelson and Marlborough, the last of whom, so far as I know, has no public memorial whatever. In December, 1861, the Prince Consort died. The Prince had been the life and soul of this Fine Arts Commission. It had been permeated by his spirit and inspired by his direction, and her late Majesty the Queen, not unnaturally I think—one can easily understand it—felt a sort of jealousy, if one may so call it, of anyone else occupying the place which he had filled, and carrying on under new auspices the work which she wished to be identified wholly with him. Consequently the Commissioners met and prepared their thirteenth Report, In which they alleged as a reason for dissolving themselves the somewhat lame pretext that now they had so completely laid down the road that was to be taken and the course that was to be followed, that all that the Executive Government had to do was to follow in the path which they had marked out, to carry on their programme, and to apply the £4,000 a year to the details of the block scheme that they had prepared; and they professed the innocent hope that the work would be carried on in the same way and with the same assiduity as previously. I need hardly say what happened. That, of course, happened which was bound to happen. The whole thing fell through. For a year or two there were some spasmodic efforts to keep up the work. A few contracts that had been entered into, a few commissions that had been given during the Prince's lifetime were continued. One or two things were done afterwards; but, generally speaking, you may say that from that day to this, a period of forty years, nothing of any importance has been done in carrying on that scheme, which, remember, was not a scheme merely carried on from hand to mouth or from day to day, but was a large definite scheme, with definite works of art already decided upon and principles laid down as to the order in which they were to be taken up.

When I say that nothing has been done I do not wish to be accused of exaggeration. A few things have been done. Three First Commissioners of Works have shown some interest in the work in this building, and have done something to carry it on. Sir Henry Layard, when First Commissioner of Works, persuaded the Government to which he belonged to put up the mosaic of St. George in the Central Hall, and well abused he got for it, most unfounded and calumnious accusations being brought against him on account of his connection with the Musano glass works. Mr. Plunket, at a later period, thirty years after, succeeded in getting put up the corresponding mosaic of St. David; and Mr. Lefevre, when for the first time at the Board of Works, was fortunate enough to anticipate the Treasury. When the Treasury wrote to him, after their usual period of deliberation, and asked him what use he proposed should be made of the rooms which had been vacated by the removal of the Courts of Law to the Strand, he answered promptly that he had already signed a contract for their demolition. They were demolished, and we now see the south side of Westminster Hall free of encum- brances, and this has enabled a mysterious benefactor, of whose identity, of course, none of us have the slightest suspicion, to put up a statue to Oliver Cromwell. But with those exceptions the work has stood still; it has not only stood still, but it has gone back. I will now say how it is that that long delay in carrying out the work has caused me to come forward on the present occasion. During the years between 1850 and 1860 circumstances which I need not mention led me, though not a member of this House, to be very constantly in it, to be at almost all its meetings during those ten years. Every year, when your Lordships met again, there was about the House something new that had been added. There was some new picture or some new statue; there was some elaborate piece of wood-carving, or some delicate piece of metal work. The work went on. At about the time of the Prince's death I left this country in public employment for a period of nearly thirty years. I do not mean to say that I was never in England during that time, but I never entered this House, and when, after those thirty years, I came back here, I thought to myself how during that long period the work of the decoration of the House must have proceeded, and how magnificent an interior the Palace would now possess. What did I see? I saw, with the exceptions that I have just mentioned, not only nothing new, but that many things that had been there before had fallen into decay and disappeared.

One of the earlier works of the Fine Arts Commission was the painting of what is called the Upper Waiting Hall, but was in past days called the Poets' Hall. That hall was decorated with pictures illustrating the greater of the English poets. There were pictures taken from Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Pope, Scott, and Byron, and some of them were works of art of a high character. I see before me now in my mind's eye Cope's fine picture of Griselda from Chaucer. The only specimen of Watts's which we had in the House was his illustration of Spenser. Herbert's picture of Lear and Cordelia was also a picture not to be despised. Well, my Lords, in the early stages of decoration mistakes were often made. They made mistakes in painting most of those pic- tures, and they began to decay. So did the pictures in this House, but when they began to decay they were promptly restored, and you see them now in good condition. But when these pictures upstairs, fine pictures as some of them were, began to decay, what did the Board of Works of that day do? Did they attempt to restore the pictures? No; they covered them over with a vulgar wall-paper, and there they are now, behind it, utterly obliterated. It was a change from high art to most commonplace upholstery. One alone has escaped—the illustration of Dryden, which, by the usual irony of fate, was the poorest of the lot. All the others are covered up. Then, again, I have noticed a certain lack of care of the building. Do any of your Lordships ever come up the stairs of what is called the Peers' Entrance? Most of us, I think, usually come in another way. If you do mount that stair you have an object lesson in filthy furniture. The stair carpet is of some coarse flannel-like material—I have never ventured to touch it except with my boot—and its condition always brings to my mind Dryden's description of Buckingham's last couch, "where tawdry yellow strives with dirty red." Besides dirt, over one stair there appeared to have been upset the contents of a huge office inkstand. When the time came, early this year, for the opening of Parliament by His Majesty, I thought that that at least would do one thing—that at any rate the staircase would be cleaned and the ink-spot got rid of. I was quite right so far as the ink was concerned, but in place of the ink-stained carpet they placed an equally dirty piece of red and yellow from some other part of the building on that particular step. These are details which show a certain want of appreciation and want of care of the building as it stands. It is perfectly clear that the mere spasmodic efforts from time to time of First Commissioners of Works will not supply the place of a Commission regularly constituted and proceeding on a regular footing. Of course, when there was no longer any Commission or Committee to press the Chancellor of the Exchequer for the Vote, the Chancellor of the Exchequer was only too happy to avoid proposing it. The Government were busy about other affairs, and had no time to think about fine arts; no money was voted, and nothing was done. It does not follow that a large sum is required to carry on the scheme. You need not have the whole of the £4,000. Half that sum, or even less, would do, if you go on steadily from year to year, and from generation to generation, making this Palace a great record of national history as illustrated by art. What might not have been done in the forty years which have elapsed since the Prince's death, had the work been steadily continued in even the most modest way! No picture of Millais will ever now grace any of our walls. Landseer also can never be represented here. He had been engaged to paint three pictures, and one of his finest works, "The Monarch of the Forest," was originally meant for your Lordships' refreshment room. And especially do I regret that Lord Leighton will never give us anything here, for his art was art especially suited for mural decoration. What I am, therefore, asking His Majesty's Government to do—I know they will not do it—is to appoint a Commission or Committee which shall take up the suspended work of the Commission, and proceed with it, with such modifications as may seem fit. The Commission when it expired had recommended as the next thing to be done the continuation of the decoration of the Royal Gallery. The Commission said (and their Report was signed not only by Prince Albert and by the men of taste, but by men of business like Lord Palmerston and Sir James Graham) of the Royal Gallery— It is an apartment of great length and magnificence in which, more than any other room, the most excellent works of art should be placed. Those of your Lordships who attended the recent trial in that chamber will be able to bear witness how far that recommendation is from having been carried out. With the exception of the two pictures of Waterloo and Trafalgar, not one of the many panels prepared for pictures in that chamber has been filled. Nor are there any statues there. The Commissioners asked that St. Stephen's Hall should be next attended to. If any of your Lordships walk through St. Stephen's Hall and mark the dingy effect of the paper on the walls, you will see what I mean. Every one of these compartments was meant to contain a brightly-coloured picture. I remember passing through that hall with one of the members of the Fine Arts Commission and making some remark on the ugliness of the paper. He replied:—"It is ugly, but it is so temporary that it does not matter." That was fifty years ago, and yet that temporary paper still holds its place. At St. Stephen's porch matters are worse. There the paper has split, opening dark chasms full of spiders' webs and other horrors. I point this out to my noble friend who represents the Board of Works in this House, with this humble request, that he will not do anything to it, but will leave it there, spiders and all, to shame, if not us, perhaps a future generation into putting a mosaic there in its place. My points are these—that the Commission was doing a great and national work, and one which I believe the people of the country appreciated; that whatever may have been the pious hopes and aspirations of the Commissioners when the Commission was dissolved, events and time have shown that it is quite impossible to carry on work of that kind without there being a steady fixed body to carry it on, a body which should not be under direct political influence, but should be unbiased and composed of persons of both sides of politics, and men of no politics; that no great annual expenditure is needed, for £1,000 or £2,000 a year spent steadily for forty or fifty years would produce great results. I do not expect His Majesty's Government to grant my request. They never do grant such requests at the first hearing, but I do hope that some of your Lordships may take to heart what I have said, and may look at the site of the destroyed pictures I have mentioned, where the name "Shakespeare" is inscribed in large gold letters over what is now a dirty sheet of flock-paper, and see whether something cannot be done to influence the public mind and His Majesty's Government into taking action. Although I am afraid my noble friend at the head of the Government will not help me, my attachment to him politically and personally is unabated. But for this occasion only, and for this purpose, I wish the noble Earl (Lord Rosebery) his predecessor occupied his place, because the noble Earl had the courage, when he was Prime Minister, to express what I hold to be the soundest views we have had from any public man with regard to the relation of the State to art. I cannot do better than read an extract from the speech of the noble Earl which was made at a dinner of the Royal Academy— Why do you drink the health of H.M. Government at all? What is it that H.M. Government ever does for art? They buy pictures, but only of the dead. I am happy to announce that H.M. Government is about to entrust to one of our first sculptors a great historical statue which has too long been wanting to the series of statues of those who have governed England. But that in itself does not seem to me sufficient for the duty of the State towards art. I am aware that the State employs architects; but I venture to say it is with a feeling of despondency, almost amounting to despair, that any citizen hears that the Government are about to erect a public building. We have a great history. What does the State do in the way of calling upon art to illustrate that history? So far as I know, the history of England as illustrated by art encouraged by the Government ends with the Peace of 1815—with the two pictures in the House of Lords. Are there not scenes in history as worthy of being commemorated since that time, scenes connected with the Siege of Lucknow, scenes connected with European campaigns which at least call for the exertion of the pencil at the instance of the State no less than those glowing records which have been preserved in the palaces of Venice and Versailles? What do you do to commemorate your men and women? Have you no men and women worthy of being commemorated in portraiture at the expense of the State? Is it to be supposed that our history is so blank a record that the State cannot find a farthing with which to honour a man unless he be illustrious enough to be buried in Westminster Abbey? You will never have a satisfactory portrait gallery unless you are able to give commissions to living painters to paint living men. Objection may be made that you are likely to find a painter less renowned for his art than his politics, and to give him employment to paint a person who is not renowned for either. For all that, I will cling to my Utopia of a State which recognises that art is a part of civilisation, and that art has as great a part in commemorating history as any of the great writers this country has ever known. I yet hope that in more halcyon days, and perhaps under a more halcyon Administration, some opportunity may be found for realising my dream. I wish the noble Marquess's Government were that halcyon Administration! With your Lordships' permission I will con- clude my remarks by reading a letter which I have received from Sir Edward Poynter, President of the Royal Academy:— I am sure that your proposal to revive the Fine Arts Commission, with powers to carry on the work of decoration of the Houses of Parliament for which it was originally constituted, could not but be an excellent thing for the encouragement of art of the higher kind. Since the abolition of the Commission the work of completing the decoration of the Houses of Parliament has been continued in a very spasmodic manner, any efforts in that direction being prompted rather by the individual taste of the First Commissioner for the time being than in obedience to any ordered system. As an instance, I may mention that a gap of something like thirty years superseded the execution of the mosaic of St. David in the central lobby from that of St. George. The grant of a very moderate annual sum would suffice, as such work could be done by degrees, to complete the original intention of the Commission to decorate the walls of the building with scenes from English history and the English poets. It would be easy to enlarge upon the advantages to the English school of painting which would be gained by the encouragement of the historic style of art; and I cannot but think that it is the proper function of the Government to give this encouragement, which can hardly be supplied by private individuals. I hope that your motion for the revival of the Commission may be successful.

Moved, "That a humble address be presented to His Majesty praying that His Majesty will direct the appointment of a Royal Commission similar in character and object to the Fine Arts Commission of 1842."—(The Lord Stanmore.)

THE PRIME MINISTER AND LORD PRIVY SEAL (The Marquess of SALISBURY)

My Lords, I am sure everyone in this House concurred most fully and enthusiastically with the expressions used by the noble Lord in celebration of the virtues and of the great services of the late Prince Consort. I do not think that he could well have exaggerated the work that the Prince Consort did; but it is necessary to remember that the Prince's position was one of delicacy and peculiarity, that he could not, by the courtesies and practice of our Constitution, avowedly exercise executive authority, and that it could only be through the action of some Commission of the kind that was instituted in 1842 that he could bring his great influence to bear and carry out, at least in some degree, the completion of the great artistic designs of which his mind was full. I think my noble friend has not considered the peculiar position occupied by the Prince Consort, and how far it furnishes the key to the somewhat curious and mysterious history of the artistic efforts of the last sixty years. If it had not been on account of his great influence, of the power he could bring to bear, and of the assistance he could give in all departments of government, I doubt very much whether the Commission would have had the effect which, according to the admission of my noble friend, it has had. But he did his best, and he did a great deal. But is the idea of my noble friend practicable that by reviving the special machine which, in view of his peculiar position, the Prince invented and worked, we can repeat the same results, or similar results, in a different generation, at a considerable distance of time? I do not believe it. I believe the work of the Commission was the work of the Prince Consort, and practically of nobody else. A pregnant and instructive fact is that since he died the artistic effort flickered and went out, a most sufficient indication that either it had been burning in a strange atmosphere or that there was nobody, no power, that could carry on the work to which he devoted himself. My noble friend has attributed the refusal of the Queen to name another chairman to feelings with which we all most deeply sympathise, but I do not think it is necessary to go to those feelings to explain the fact that Prince Albert had no successor. I believe he had no successor because there was no one, there could be nobody, fit to take up the work death compelled him to drop, and the evidence of this is found in the forty years which have elapsed without one step being taken or one effort being made to revive the activity of that Commission he instituted. Surely that is sufficient to show you that the subject was to some extent, at all events, strange and uncongenial, and not one that could revive that amount of enthusiasm necessary to push an ambitious project thorough two Houses of Parliament. That is, I believe, the whole history of that Commission.

My noble friend has dwelt very strongly on the evil results, and has carried his investigations so far that he is able to tell us of stains upon various carpets, and he has criticised some wall-paper put up, and has declared it to be ugly. I do not know it myself, but of this I am certain—that if the noble Lord and his artistic following say it is ugly, we shall find another following ready to say the reverse. But the noble Lord thinks things have gone from bad to worse, and he has dwelt on the strange neglect of all First Commissioners of Works, who during their fleeting tenures of office have in almost every case done nothing to carry on the work of the Commission which the Prince Consort was compelled to abandon. Well, but is that an isolated phenomenon? Are you to take it as merely a curious thing to be written in your Museum that for forty years the British people and those by whom they were represented took none of those steps in favour of advanced art which my noble friend desires? Surely the more reasonable explanation is that the British people did not care about it. I am afraid that is what my noble friend will find. He cannot set in motion spontaneous machinery by which artistic feeling and enthusiasm among the people can be perpetually generated. If some man of the power, position, and extraordinary gifts of the Prince Consort were to arise, no doubt many artistic things would be done, and many pictures would be commenced; but as soon as the inevitable shortness of human life brought limitation to his efforts we should again fall into the hopeless difficulties my noble friend speaks of. In the sense in which my noble friend speaks and for the purposes he has in view, and I am bound to add for the expenditure necessary, he will not find a very large amount of sympathy among those who govern the country. But be this as it may, I sympathise with my noble friend in his desire to remedy what he considers great evils, and to fill that great gap which during the thirty years of his absence from this country has been found in our artistic achievements. I quite sympathise with his wish that all wall-papers should be pretty and all carpets clean, but the point is, what is the remedy, what is the mode of getting to this result? My noble friend proposes pro tanto to take the Executive Government to pieces and place power of doing these things not in those belonging to the Executive Government by virtue of well-known constitutional machinery, but in a Commission—I do not know how it is to be named, but it is to be permanent, and it is to be specially marked as independent of the political influences of the day. That rather reminds one of a paradox of which the Chinese have been accused, who felt it necessary to burn their houses to provide roast pork.

My noble friend wants this great reform of artistic feeling; he therefore proposes to set up machinery such as exists in no other part of our Constitution, and which is at variance with all our constitutional traditions. I said in no other part of our Constitution, but there is the India Council, which represents in some degree this Commission, which my noble friend would set up for the propagation of orthodox art in this country; but the India Council is the inheritor of the great company by which our Indian Empire was constructed, and no doubt it was found impossible to so entirely reverse what had previously been done as to sever our connection with that tradition, and a compromise of a singularly illogical kind was therefore devised, and, like many other illogical things, it has worked singularly well. But I do not think my noble friend will persuade either House of Parliament to part with its executive power in matters of art, or in the superintendence of art, in order to remove to a distance the danger of repetition of such horrors as my noble friend has detailed. Why should they part with the power more in matters of art than anything else? My noble friend has indicated his wish that this Chamber should be taken in hand, and that expenditure on ornament, to which he has not assigned any limit or any limiting power, should be directed to stimulating our artistic faculties while we sit here. What power are we to put into the hands of this Commission, and what should be its relation to the Exchequer? Some of the observations of my noble friend with respect to things that should be revived and restored, the delicate ironwork which should be wrought, the beautiful carving to be made—these things, however admirable in an artistic dream, are, I am afraid, calculated to cause a cold shudder to the back of a Chancellor of the Exchequer. These things can only be obtained by money.

For forty years it has been the opinion of Parliament, as indicated by its action, that the money for these purposes would not be forthcoming—that is to say, that there were other objects preferable to them that claimed expenditure. Does my noble friend think that the precise juncture of time on which he has lighted is one in which that argument will be less potent than it was before? I am afraid if he could infuse into the minds of the Treasury all the artistic feeling with which he is replete, and imbue them with his enthusiasm for remedying all the evils he points out, even then there would, I am afraid, remain in their mouths the answer that there are many things now requiring expenditure, and that they hardly think that this is a wise moment to open a new chapter in that expenditure which we have said good-bye to for forty years. My noble friend says this will be little, but that is a very worn-out excuse for artistic persons, who thus begin and think they can successfully develop their theory of expenditure. Their appetite is not easily satisfied, their artistic demands are increased, made more acute and greedy of satisfaction. I fear that no person who takes an interest in the finances of this country would look with any great satisfaction upon a commencement of this new sort of expenditure to be spent, not by persons appointed by the Government, which has the confidence of Parliament, but appointed and to remain unchanged, and to have permanent power whatever changes may take place in the tastes or the resources or the wishes of Parliament. It seems to me my noble friend has embarked on an enterprise which is certainly hopeless now, and though undoubtedly we can all wish him well in the desire to improve the artistic taste of the country, and especially to improve the building in which we stand, still for everything there is a time and opportunity, and I do not think that the present day is the proper opportunity for setting up such a Commission as my noble friend asks for.

THE EARL OF ROSEBERY

My Lords, I do not rise to support the motion of the noble Lord, and I can well understand the reluctance of the noble Marquess to entertain it. But I do not altogether sympathise with the reasons the noble Marquess has given. The noble Lord towards the close of his entertaining speech quoted at length from a speech of mine which I had forgotten and assured the noble Marquess of his enthusiastic support. I should have preferred to have had the compliments reversed. I would rather he had quoted from the speech of the noble Marquess, and promised me his support. I am not quite sure after the sneers and scoffs directed to his speech by the noble Marquess the noble Lord may not take one step further, from that I observe he has already taken from the cross benches, and finally find a resting-place here. The reasons of the noble Marquess are, as usual, of a somewhat unexpected character. Another disappointment! He says the Commission would be of a wholly unconstitutional character, and he at once began to draw his familiar warning about the danger of pulling the English Constitution to pieces. Considering that that Commission lasted for eighteen or nineteen years, without any violent strain on the Constitution, I am really at a loss to know, unless it be the mere fact of the noble Lord's prolonged absence from the country, what constitutes a change in the Constitution that makes the Commission a constitutional peril. Then he said the sum of money the Commission might dispose of would be of an alarming character for the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Well, the old Commission disposed of a fixed sum of £4,000 a year. The noble Lord, in his extreme anxiety to avoid offending the Treasury, knocked off 50 per cent., and then another 25 per cent., and professed his readiness to undertake the work—for I presume he would be on the Royal Commission, if appointed—for the comparatively moderate outlay of £1,000 a year.

As regards the strain on the Constitution, the objection as to extravagance coming from a Government which is spending money at the present rate, urged against a faithful follower of the noble Marquess is a little overstrained. I sympathise much more with the objection which the noble Marquess hinted at rather than expressed. I mean the conviction that this is not the proper assembly in which to bring forward such a motion, because whatever else the Commission means, it means a certain outlay. It is not a great sum. It is carrying art as low as ever it was carried in a great country. But, whether it be 5s. or £5,000, the House of Commons will watch with extreme jealousy any attempt on the part of this House to spend that money without a direct motion being brought on in the House of Commons. Therefore, I regret that the noble Lord is not in possession of a seat in the other House, that he might urge his claims in a more generous and suitable atmosphere. I think, if I may say so, he is a little exhilarated by the recent success of my noble friend (Lord Wemyss) on the cross benches, who has defeated the Government on an artistic question, and has, therefore, emboldened the noble Lord to try a bout with the Government again. But on this occasion I hope we shall remember—I do not know what the practical issue of the resolution of my noble friend is going to be—I do not know if the Government have yielded to the votes of this House; its appearance is not encouraging—but, at any rate, if we are to be changed into an assembly for the discussion of artistic questions, it is well that they should be questions in which no expenditure is involved, because you have a double obstacle to meet, on the one hand an unyielding Treasury, except to demands with which the Government is in more sympathy, and also the instinctive jealousy of the House of Commons on all questions of expenditure.

As my speech has been dragged into the discussion, I hope you will allow me to ride a hobby, which I trotted out in that speech, in a harmless manner for another five minutes. I think the Government does singularly little for art in this country. On the whole I think that is a good thing. In other States where personal government is more the rule than here, sovereigns are apt to send to the annual exhibitions of art and buy collections of pictures, with which they enrich their palaces and adorn provincial museums. I will not say with what result to the palaces and museums, though I have a strong opinion on the point. I should be sorry to see the noble Marquess, followed by a suitable staff, passing through a private view of the Royal Academy, with a marked catalogue in his hand, noting the purchases he intended to make on behalf of the Government. It is no disparagement to his taste to say—I am sure he is convinced of it—that his purchases would be universally criticised by the friends of those whose pictures were not purchased, and that he would create a political situation for himself of a much less enviable kind than that which he now enjoys. But that is not the whole truth of the matter. My special feeling is connected with our collection of national portraits. I do not wish, as the noble Lord does, to see portraits of leading statesmen hung about our corridors, I do not think they are proper places for them. I prefer Cope's "Griselda," wherever she may be, though the noble Lord did not indicate to what region of the Palace of Westminster she has vanished. I think I would be invidious to hang the portraits of statesmen about. We should be confronted with the rivalry of political parties, and it would be said one statesman was hung in a better place because he belonged to the party dominant at the moment. But surely the place for the collection is the National Portrait Gallery, and for that the Government have done nothing. All Governments are equally to blame. I am not impeaching the Government now in power, and I think the allowance—fixed at a time when the prices of pictures were different from what they are now—is something like £1,200 a year. For that sum you might get one good work by a first-rate artist, but certainly not more. In these circumstances, with the competition of those engaged in trusts in a neighbouring continent, and of those who have made money by miraculous means elsewhere, there is absolutely no hope for our national collection of obtaining any portraits that are worth having except by legacy.

You may say that the expressive portraits are those of men who have died. That does not affect the question of the encouragement of living art. It is not, moreover, wholly true, because the purchases are not entirely of those who have passed away. But what I want to point out is that there would surely be no great difficulty if the National Por- trait Gallery were empowered to apply to the Treasury for permission to entrust the execution of a portrait of some great contemporary to some great living artist to enrich the walls of the National Portrait Gallery. If this be not done, you have no conceivable chance except through the patriotism of the individual, and that is not a quantity on which you can always reckon, of obtaining the portraits of great living contemporaries for the national collection. Take Mr. Gladstone. You have one very fine portrait of Mr. Gladstone by Millais. It is not in the National Portrait Gallery, and you owe it to the munificence of Sir Charles Tennant that it has a place in the National Gallery. It is an ornament there. But would it not have been better if the State, at any rate after Mr. Gladstone had retired from public life, had commissioned a man like Millais, or Holl, or the still living Sargent, to paint the portrait of Mr. Gladstone and add it to the national collection? It would have encouraged art, and it would have raised your collection of portraits to something worthier of the name than now. I can hear the objection made to that—"Who is to choose these national portraits?" The Minister of the day, it might be said, might like his portrait in the National Gallery, and there might be some "job" in the way of getting his delineation in. My answer to that is twofold. In the first place, I never met anyone who would sit for his portrait except under the severest compulsion or under the highest sense of public duty. In the second place, I would not hand over the power of selecting the portraits to be painted to the Government. I would hand it over to a perfectly impartial and non-political body—the Trustees of the National Portrait Gallery; and if they were allowed to ask that some distinguished man should sit for his portrait to some great artist so that they might have his portrait, I believe they might be trusted to act on their discretion with wisdom, and I am quite sure the Treasury might be trusted to resist any undue choice with still greater wisdom.

Therefore I do not believe that you could enter on any large expense, and I am sure you might limit the portraits to one or two a year, and I am sure the result would be eminently desirable. Without that I think you will have no portraits worthy the name of men living now, because when the portrait of the great man is a success it passes out of your power to obtain it at almost any rate of expenditure. Let me give an instance. Last year Mr. Sargent painted a small head of the late Lord Chief Justice, Lord Russell of Killowen, which I think must have appealed to every one of us as one of the most consummate portraits that has been seen. If the State had chosen to be the private possessor of that portrait, Lord Russell himself would have been only too glad to have conceded it to the State. Now he has gone, and I doubt whether you could induce his family to yield so precious a relic of their great father and husband. It is quite true that, owing to private munificence, a replica of that picture will be painted for the National Portrait Gallery. But it is only a chance that Mr. Sargent is now alive to paint it, and, after all, a replica is not the same as the original portrait. Take the noble Marquess who has been so long Prime Minister, and has so long had the confidence of the majority of the country. Some day—I hope a long day hence—we shall be wanting a portrait of him. Where shall we get it? I have not the faintest notion. Again, there is a distinguished Field-Marshal who has returned from South Africa. Some day posterity will curse you if you have not secured an adequate portrait of Lord Roberts until too late. In the meantime, by doing what is fair to history and posterity you will have encouraged contemporary art at a sum which would not exceed £2,000 or £3,000. When you think of the millions you are pouring out on the plains of South Africa, much of which, as in any war, must at least be squandered or misspent, I ask you to give a mite in the way I have suggested.

THE EARL OF WEMYSS

My Lords, as my noble friend referred to me, I should like to say a few words with reference to this motion. I think my noble friend Lord Stanmore has done good service to the State in bringing forward so important a matter, and he has also done good service in eliciting the speeches which have been delivered by the noble Marquess at the head of the Government and the noble Earl, Lord Rosebery, who has driven his furrow through the speech of the Prime Minister. It is no doubt desirable that the State should, as far as possible, give encouragement to art. I was once on a Committee with reference to the National Gallery, and we recommended that the State should give a certain sum—£10,000, I think—for the purpose of purchasing pictures for the National Gallery. I believe that sum, thanks to which our National Gallery can compare with that of any other country, is still being given. There you have the principle of money given being well spent for the encouragement of art. As to the further decoration of this House, I think that is a matter open to question. What is wanted in my opinion in this country is a permanent body which should have control over official architectural eccentricities, and should put a check on engineering monstrosities such as we see in some of the bridges over the Thames. I was on a Commission which recommended this, and it was suggested that such a body might be composed of the President of the Institute of Architects, the President of the Royal Academy, a professor of architecture, the President of the Institute of Engineers, the Lord Mayor of London, the Chairman of the London County Council, and a certain number of other persons, including probably the First Commissioner of Works. I think some body of that kind would be useful. Two years ago I gave a list of what appeared to me official eccentricities in the matter of architecture, and it is unnecessary that I should repeat them. Take the Admiralty building. I asked a question the other day, which was not answered, with reference to what was going on behind the hoarding. My noble friend Lord Pembroke threw the blame of that building, which he has a horror of, in company with many others, upon a Committee of the House of Commons, and he said that a Committee of the House of Commons was the very worst body in the world to decide on any matter of art or architecture. I do not suppose my noble friend means that the building was designed by the Committee. The design, which was submitted for their approval, came from the Office of Works.

THE EARL OF PEMBROKE

Several designs by several artists were submitted.

THE EARL OF WEMYSS

But the plan was submitted by the Office of Works to the Committee.

THE EARL OF PEMBROKE

No.

THE EARL OF WEMYSS

At any rate, you have a plan submitted by somebody to a Committee, who have nothing to do with it except approve or disapprove of it. I have reason to believe that the plan in accordance with which the building is being erected is not the plan that was submitted to the Committee, and of which they approved. Here is a letter I have received on the subject— I have found out what is going on behind the hoardings at the Admiralty. The original Board of Works design, approved by a Committee of the House of Commons, had one feature which, though not redeeming its other faults, was less hideous than the rest—an open colonnade, where the garden wall on to the parade now is, connecting the two blocks of buildings. This, without any word of public intimation, has been given up, and for it a big block of buildings substituted which will completely alter the character of the parade, and convert the Admiralty garden into a closed and stuffy court. My informant is a very reliable person, and it is for Lord Pembroke, who is the mouthpiece of the Office of Works in this House, to tell us whether or not that is the case. If such a body as I have referred to existed, and before any of these buildings were erected the proposals had to come before them, the public would then know, especially if that body insisted upon models being used, what was being done, and it would be impossible for such a state of things to have arisen as has apparently happened in connection with the Admiralty, and such official eccentricities in the matter of architecture and engineering as we now see would be prevented. Let me give a few instances of what I mean. There is Hungerford Bridge, with its elephantine legs, straggling across the river, spoiling the view of one of the most beautiful structures in the world—Waterloo Bridge, which Canova said was well worth a journey from Italy to see. Again, there is that beautiful bridge at Blackfriars, close to which a hideous railway bridge has been allowed to be erected. Can anything be more ugly on the line of the river than Cannon Street or Hungerford Stations? If we had a properly constituted artistic body, as I suggest, we should be spared these disfigurements. I next take Putney Bridge. I am not an admirer generally of the doings of the London County Council, but at Putney they have built a most beautiful bridge, from which, when it was first erected, there was a lovely view both up and down the river. But, what happened? Close to it a railway company was allowed to put up a hideous structure which destroys completely the view of the reach of the river below the bridge. My noble friend referred to my motion, which was carried the other day by 41 votes to 20, and said he did not know what course the Government were going to take with regard to it. I shrugged my shoulders, thereby meaning to imply that I was in the same state of ignorance as my noble friend. He thought I meant that the whole thing had been given up, and that the Government were going to do nothing. I cannot believe that the Government will do nothing. Two years ago 140 peers petitioned for a certain thing; this year the professors of architecture and the Institute of Architects petition for the same thing, while on a division a motion for the making and exhibition of models is carried against the Government by two to one, and on going through the division list I find that of the twenty who voted in the minority there were only three peers not belonging to the Government. My noble friend the Secretary for Scotland smiles at the idea of these petitions influencing any member of the Cabinet or the Government. I say, if they do not, he ought not to be there. I have received a letter stating that the city of Westminster—the part of London most interested in what is being done—have memorialised the Office of Works in favour of the exhibition of models. Surely the Government will take some action. It is not an aristocratic tyranny under which we live. We are a free nation, and the Government are sup- posed to represent the views of the people. I do not ask at present what the Government are going to do with regard to my motion, but I hope they will think the matter well over before they come to any decision.

LORD STANMORE

I shall not say much in reply, but I wish to point out that I am not much touched by the criticisms of my noble friend at the head of the Government, because he occupied himself in knocking down a house which I had not built. He pointed out how very objectionable it would be to have a Commission, spending money apparently without the control of Parliament. What I asked for was a revival of a Commission which, as the noble Earl opposite has said, lasted for twenty years without anybody objecting to it, and which has many bodies resembling it as distributors of money voted by Parliament. Of course the Votes of money would be given annually in the same way as before by the House of Commons. A Vote of £1, 000 a year would enable the Commission to fill up one panel a year. What I ask is that an interrupted and unfinished work should be continued. Nor do I object to the wall paper used as ugly; that is a matter of individual taste. What I do object to, and what I think the Government should prevent, is the papering over of fine works of art, whether the paper itself be pretty or ugly. Those destroyed works of art are the first things that call for restoration. I know my motion will not be carried on a division, and therefore I will not put your Lordships to the trouble of dividing.

On Question, resolved in the negative.