H. B. has not been idle since the Parliament broke
up ; he has been recording one or two of the few incidents that marked its close. Like echoes, his sketches prolong peals of laughter. The Duke of Wellington is made to look ridiculous as train-bearer to the Lord Chancellor; who has certainly been indebted to him for that sort of support which is questionable both as regards honour and advantage. We have likewise an exemplification of the courtesy of the Duke, in turning his back to the 'Ministerial Bench, and addressing his remarks to his own party: amongst them we perceive the whiskered Cumberland, the rabid Carnarvon, the vacant Kenyon, the pedantic Aberdeen, and the farthing face of the green Duke of Buccleugh. H. B. has also given us sketches of Messrs. Home and Denman as Castor and Pollux; and of O'Connell, the legal agitator of the Irish nation, meditating in his study at Derrinane.
The last of H. B. 's sketches for the season is, we suppose, the dim glimpse of the Chancellor explaining his Chancery Reform Bill, in the House of Lords, to a select few. The lights just serve to make darkness visible ; and the chiaroscuro of the picture renders it an appropriate drop-scene to the Parliamentary drama.
An artist of the name of \Vara has presented the public with a fulllength portrait (wooden leg included) of Dennis Collins, the unlawful agitator of the English Court. The Unconscious traitor looks like a publican cut down to an ostler. He has large features and a stronglymarked face, with coarse and dull expression, but harmless withal.