In answer to a question as to the character and composition of the Lower House, or Legislative Assembly, I was told that it was now no worse than that of Victoria. Probably this was about as much as could be said for it. The facts which I mentioned in a former letter concerning the Victorian Assembly may be an assistance in estimating the force of the comparison. I may add that since I wrote, one of its Members has been sentenced to a term of imprisonment for forgery, and the keeper of one of the most notoriously disreputable taverns in Melbourne has entered it, being chosen for an important district in preference to an opponent who is an old colonist, an educated gentleman, and a man of unquestionable ability and integrity.
One does not, however, hear in Sydney of the wholesale corruption, the taking of palpable 10l. notes, universally attributed to several legislators of the sister colony. The present Ministry of Mr. Martin and Mr. Parkes, in spite of some recent failures in finance, is generally described by reliable people as about the best since the existing Constitution came into force; and as the Opposition is weak, and contains few, if any, men of ability, the Government can do things pretty much in its own way. But other Administrations have been less powerful, and when they felt themselves tottering have, in order to prolong their lease of office a little longer, been sometimes by no means fastidious in the means they employed to obtain support. Different people were to be conciliated in different ways, and one of the results was the creation of a certain number of Windmill Magistrates. Lest the term Windmill Magistrate should be unintelligible to those who are not fully initiated into the mysteries of colonial democracy, perhaps I should explain that there have been persons aspiring, and not always in vain, to the honour of being magistrates, whose early education was not very comprehensive, and who, not being able to sign their names, were in the habit of affixing their mark x instead. The supposed resemblance of this mark to the sails of a windmill suggested the term.
Whatever be the cause or causes, the Legislative Assembly certainly is not held in much respect. It is in vain that its members strive to assert their importance by voting themselves free passes on the railways and a Members’ Stand at the races. The leading Sydney paper, ‘The Sydney Morning Herald,’ has been publishing a series of articles, appearing two or three times a week, entitled ‘The Collective Wisdom of New South Wales,’ in which all the bad grammar, bad language, and extravagant and unbecoming behaviour of the Members, not mentioned in the reports of the debates, are chronicled and commented on. The following observations are from a leading article (not from one of the series I have alluded to) in the same paper,[12] which is as temperate and well conducted as any in Australia:—
‘The specimens we have had of ribaldry and vituperation are, unhappily, too familiar with the Assembly, and even these hardly represent what is heard within the precincts of the Houses. We say, and with much regret, that there are members pretending to political leadership whose language would be a disgrace to a stable; who, when excited by drink or passion, pour out a stream of invective which is not merely blasphemous, but filthy. They have no hesitation to couple the names of persons with whom they have had more or less friendly intercourse, according as the changes of private interest or political sentiment may permit.... We believe that such language is rarely heard in British society of the present day. That it lingers in some parts of New South Wales is to be traced to causes which we shall not describe more specially, but which will, we hope, some day disappear. It is unfortunate when men who have been taught from their early youth to express themselves in a strain which becomes too natural by indulgence are in a position to propagate their example.... We can produce proofs to establish every syllable we say, namely, that the conspicuous men in the House, with one or two exceptions, have been for the last seven years accustomed to speak of each other in such terms as gentlemen never apply, and excepting under the power of that mighty principle which conquers resentment, which gentlemen never forgive.’
Here is an extract from a debate in the Sydney Legislative Assembly:—[13]
‘Mr. M. said that he only knew of one minister who ever attempted to make political capital out of religious differences.
‘An Hon. Member.—Who?
‘Mr. M.—The Colonial Secretary.
‘An Hon. Member.—“Shut up!”
‘Voices.—“Boots,” “laughing jackass,” and other remarks, the application of which could only be seen by persons actually present, and the import of which it is hardly worth while to explain.