Placed in a position of extraordinary trust, hedged about with the lofty traditions of his office, weighed down by heavy responsibilities, engaged in a sedentary occupation during the greater part of the day or night, a Speaker may well agree with that candid correspondent who, in congratulating Addington on his elevation to the Chair in 1789, referred to the Speakership as "one of the most awful posts I know."[206] In the long list of those who have so ably guided and controlled the proceedings of the House of Commons during the last hundred years, many names stand forth conspicuously--Manners Sutton, Shaw Lefevre, Denison, Brand, Peel. No Speaker has ever fallen short of the trust reposed in him, or failed in his duty to the House, and it may confidently be asserted that so long as the standard of English political life maintains its present high level, no difficulty will ever be experienced in providing the Chair with an occupant who shall fill it, not only worthily, but with distinction. [206] Pellew's "Life of Sidmouth," vol. i. p. 66. CHAPTER VIII THE OPENING OF PARLIAMENT Parliament, like everything else, must have a beginning. The opening of a session which is also the commencement of a new Parliament is an event which tradition invests with all the accompaniments of what Cobden contemptuously referred to as "barbaric pomp." The inaugural rites are performed with a stately ceremonial of which Selden himself would have approved[207]; everything is done to make the pageant as impressive as possible. [207] "Ceremony," says Selden, "keeps up all things; 'tis like a penny glass to a rich spirit, or some excellent water; without it the water will be spilt, the spirit lost." The actual business of the opening may be described as extending over several days, the climax being reached when the sovereign arrives in person to deliver his speech. The opening itself is nowadays performed by a Commission issued for that purpose under the Great Seal. On the day appointed by royal proclamation for the meeting of a new Parliament, the Houses assemble in their respective chambers. Before doing so, however, special precautions have been taken to ensure the safety of our legislators. A picturesque procession, composed of Yeomen of the Guard in their striking uniforms, makes its way through the numerous subterranean vaults of the Palace of Westminster, seeking diligently for the handiwork of some modern Guy Fawkes. This now familiar search is an ancient custom kept up more in accordance with popular sentiment than for any practical reason. The duties of the Beefeaters have no doubt already been anticipated by the police, but though the fruitlessness of their quest is now a matter of regular recurrence, they persistently refuse to be discouraged, and the search is prosecuted with renewed hopefulness at the commencement of every session.[208]