Yesterday the Liberal Party, evenly divided between climate change sceptics and those who believe, determined to prove Lincoln right.

The last sitting week of Parliament is supposed to be a time of bonhomie.

Nothing concentrates legislative minds like booked flights and the prospect of two months back in the constituency.

But concentration has given way to cacophony.

Two days after fighting for his political life, Malcolm Turnbull has been forced to face up again.

The day began with traditional year-ending speeches.

As MPs filed into the chamber for question time there was nary a hint of the chaos to come.

But the end of the year can be treacherous - Bob Hawke lost the leadership in 1991 when Parliament sat longer, as this parliament is scheduled to do on the emissions trading scheme.

Mr Turnbull may well face the same doom.

As Government and Opposition alternated between questions on climate change and unauthorised arrivals, whispers made their way around the chamber.

Tony Abbott was going to resign.

Was John Howard's parliamentary enforcer making his run?

As MPs traded barbs the red mist descended on the massed ranks of Liberals.

Senate leader Nick Minchin, who believes climate change has replaced communism as a leftist plot, was next.

By then it was on.

One by one the resignations came. Nine frontbenchers and party officials in total, to go with the three on Wednesday. At a press conference Mr Abbott ducked and weaved the questions with an expertise that recalled his pugilistic heritage.

No, this was not about Turnbull's leadership - he was resigning because of party room dissatisfaction over the proposed emissions trading deal with Labor.

No, he hadn't planned a challenge.

''I can't say what might happen in the future but as far as I am concerned this is a policy issue not a leadership issue,'' the man known as ''People Skills'' said.

Liberal senators convened at 6.30pm.

Then word came - Mr Turnbull would speak at 7pm.

Would he resign? Call another leadership spill?

In a speech that recalled Lincoln's defiant ''the dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the burdens of the stormy present'', Mr Turnbull stuck to his guns.

''I am the leader of the Liberal Party,'' he said.

At one point, clasping tight to the lectern, it seemed as if it might crumble in his hands.

This was a man clinging to his political life. Soon after, more resignations and an inconclusive end to a day of high drama.

The Liberal Party would do well to heed Lincoln's advice that ''it is unwise to change horses mid-stream''.