Let into the walls of this hall are a number of portraits of Liberal politicians of the past. Amongst them are Bright and Palmerston. There are also some busts of former great lights of the party, such as Mr. Gladstone. A graceful statue of Elektra is another conspicuous ornament of this well-proportioned hall. Like the Carlton, the Reform Club possesses a quantity of silver plate, dating from the time of its foundation. The kitchen of the Reform was long presided over by Alexis Soyer, one of the great cooks of history. He came to England on a visit to his brother, who was chef to the old Duke of Cambridge, son of George III, and afterwards was cook to several noblemen, till eventually appointed chef of the club. Soyer created a great sensation in culinary circles by introducing steam and gas. He cooked some famous political banquets for the club, among them a dinner to O’Connell, another to Ibrahim Pasha, and a third to Lord Palmerston. Soyer, indeed, became quite a public character, being sent to Ireland during the great famine, to teach the starving people how to dine on little or nothing; and at the worst period of the Crimean winter it was hoped he might make amends for a defective commissariat. Madame Soyer was as clever as her husband in another line: a woman of considerable artistic attainments, she painted quite prettily in water-colours. Both she and the great chef sleep their last sleep in Kensal Green Cemetery, where a sort of mausoleum bears the appropriate inscription: “Soyer tranquil.” One of the Reform Club’s triumphs was the breakfast given there on the occasion of the Queen’s Coronation, which won high commendation. The excellent cooking imparted celebrity to the great political banquets given at the Reform. Soyer was a man of discrimination, taste, and genius. He was led to conceive the idea of his great book on cookery—“Gastronomic Regeneration”—he declared, by observing in the elegant library of an accomplished nobleman the works of Shakespeare, Milton, and Johnson, in gorgeous bindings, but wholly dust-clad and overlooked, while a book on cookery bore every indication of being daily consulted and revered. “This is fame,” exclaimed Soyer, seizing the happy inference, and forthwith seized his pen.