I was told last night that the scene of noise and uproar which the House of Commons now exhibits is perfectly disgusting. This used not to be the case in better, or at least more gentlemanlike, times; no noises were permissible but the cheer and the cough, the former admitting every variety of intonation expressive of admiration, approbation, assent, denial, surprise, indignation, menace, sarcasm. Now all the musical skill of this instrument is lost and drowned in shouts, hootings, groans, noises the most discordant that the human throat can emit, sticks and feet beating against the floor. Sir Hedworth Williamson, a violent Whig, told me that there were a set of fellows on his side of the House whose regular practice it was to make this uproar, and with the settled design to bellow Peel down. This is the _reformed_ House of Commons. Peel told Lord Ashley the other day that he did not think it possible for the same man to be Prime Minister and leader in the House of Commons (he meant to be First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer), that no physical strength was adequate to the labour of both employments. He may therefore hereafter put some Peer at the head of the Government, but it is equally indispensable, as it seems to me, that the real substantial power should be vested in the leader of the House of Commons, especially when he is a man so superior as Peel must always be to any colleagues he may be associated with. April 5th, 1835 {p.244} [Page Head: SIR R. PEEL AND THE TORIES.]