A Parliament is that to the Commonwealth which the soul is to the body. It behooves us therefore to keep the facility of that soul from distemper.
A severe though not unfriendly critic of our institutions said that the cure for admiring the House of Lords was to go and look at it.
I would walk from here to Drogheda and back to see the man who is blockhead enough to expect anything except injustice from an English Parliament.
Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from different and hostile interests; which interests each must maintain, as an agent and advocate, against other agents and advocates; but parliament is a deliberative assembly of one nation, with one interest, that of the whole; where, not local purposes, not local prejudices ought to guide, but the general good, resulting from the general reason of the whole. You choose a member indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not a member of Bristol, but he is a member of parliament.
Parliament must not be told a direct untruth, but it's quite possible to allow them to mislead themselves.
The House of Commons starts its proceedings with a prayer. The chaplain looks at the assembled members with their varied intelligence and then prays for the country.
Would it be possible to stand still on one spot more majestically — while simulating a triumphant march forward — than it is done by the two English Houses of Parliament?
You behold a range of exhausted volcanoes. Not a flame flickers on a single pallid crest.
You have sat too long for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!
You see how this House of Commons has begun to verify all the ill prophecies that were made of it — low, vulgar, meddling with everything, assuming universal competency, and flattering every base passion — and sneering at everything noble refined and truly national. The direct tyranny will come on by and by, after it shall have gratified the multitude with the spoil and ruin of the old institutions of the land.