hand for the half crown which his auricular had warned his mental that his optical faculties would soon behold. The Kerryman drew forth his hand from the Potosian mine it had been visiting, but instead of a portion of the precious ore, Wright was presented with the mandate of the Honorable William Browne! He had no alternative nowhe had admitted that there was room enough in the gallery—so he slowly examined the order; silently obeying its injunctions he opened the cross door, and sulkily pointed to the small staircase which led to the gallery. The Kerryman moved towards where I stood, and giving one of those self-congratulatory winks which express so much, he muttered a few words in Irish and then ascended the stairs.

The scene on the lobby about four o'clock is very amusing. The Speaker generally enters the house at that hour, and is obliged to pass through the lobby on his way from his own apartments. From three o'clock the members begin to drop in one by one, and the space begins to be crowded with "sundry men from different nations," prompted either by business or curiosity, or that third and more general motive, having nothing else to do. I have often inspected the lobby loungers during their daily muster, and the result has been, that I have always concluded the majority are mostly made up of stray fish" from Ireland. The Irish are a nation of politicians, and are naturally attracted towards that scene from whence so much of our present politics emanate.

Members of the house can introduce strangers into the body of the house by getting an order from the Speaker, which entitles them to a seat upon the cross benches below the bar under the gallery. Being anxious to witness the fate of a motion of the Honorable Member for Kerry, relative to Irish tithes, during the present session, I walked down to the house with an Irish knight of the shire, who promised to procure a Speaker's order for me. As we entered the lobby my honorable friend inquired if the Speaker was yet in the chair, and being answered in the negative, he said to me, you must wait here until the Speaker takes the chair, and then I will come to you with the order for your admission." He then entered the house, and I took my station amongst the crowd which was assembled. About half a dozen peace-officers kept a passage across the lobby free for the ingress and egress of the members: the crowd was thus divided into two sections; but shortly after I had entered, it was announced that the Speaker was coming, and then the peace-officers began to blend the two into one, by clearing that side of the apartment where the President of the Commons was expected to make his entrée. I had thus a full view of the opposite side, which was soon cleared of the promiscuous crowd. The Speaker was to approach through an entrance which opened by means of large folding doors, which were now closed. I was puzzled to know how the officers on duty were advertised of the proximity of the Speaker, for since I entered I had not seen those doors opened; but all my wonder ceased when I saw an elfin figure peeping through the key-hole, evidently on the look out for the Right Honorable Manners Sutton. He was a most vigilant sentinel, for he never even once turned his eye from the small

aperture through which its vision was directed. The key-hole seemed to be about three feet from the ground, and some idea of his altitude may be formed, when he found it necessary to stand on his toes to give him an additional elevation, so as to enable him to reach it.His face was turned to the door, so I was prevented from inspecting his features, but the size of his head gave me some idea as to the character of his features. As I described the height of his figure by the measurement of the door, I shall now endeavour to convey a tolerable estimate of the proportion of his head by the dimensions of his hat. The hat was off, and he held it by the leaf in his left hand; the crown was turned downwards and rested on the floor, so that by comparing the height of the hat, which stood upon the same level with its owner, it very nearly reached as far as his waist! and by the diameter of the ample crown and the rim at the entrance, I am almost certain that had he stepped into it, he could rest himself during his look out for the Speaker, by leaning his elbows on the leaf, without the least inconvenience from the position. After a few minutes of expectation I saw the dwarf suddenly abandon his post, and take up a position behind the door-case; his movement seemed to be the signal for the attendants to resume" attention," and presently the folding doors were thrown open, and a voice proclaimed " Mr. Speaker." "Hats off" was responded by the doorkeepers and peace-officers; and then the folding doors which led into the body of the house were suddenly swung open, and the approach of " Mr. Speaker" was laconically echoed there. All eyes were turned towards the entrance by which the first commoner" was to appear, and presently a solemn figure, in a black court-dress, advanced with a serious air and the measured step of official dignity, carrying into the house that emblem of its power which is called a Mace, but which Cromwell once sent out of the house, with very little ceremony to grace its exit, and with no better recognition of its nominal rank than the epithet bauble expressed. The Speaker next came on habited in a black silken robe, the train of which was supported by an official; and after him moved forward, a personage whose presence completed the Church and State character, which all British institutions display-namely, the Speaker's chaplain. The present chaplain is a fat, Monkish-looking little man, who forms quite a contrast to his reverend predecessor, Mr. Lockwood, who, on the other hand, was a tall, spare figure, and bore a strong resemblance to his father in solemnity of aspect The suitors of the Irish Court of Chancery may remember the sad Secretary who served Lord Manners during his chancellorship, and then conceive some notion of his sactified son, the Speaker's ex-chaplain. The foregoing persons passed across the lobby in the above order, headed by the mace and concluded by the chaplain, while a profound silence was observed by the motley crowd present. As soon as the last in the procession had entered the house, the doors were suddenly closed and audibly bolted, and then the janitor cried out, with a Stentorian voice, "the Speaker's at prayers. Those who were in the house at the time the chaplain entered, were fortunate enough to share all the spiritual comfort which his aspirations dispensed; but those who came to the door while he was at his devotions were doomed to wait until they were concluded.

Several members arrived at the door during the time the chaplainwas in the house, who collected into groups, and waited patiently until the expiration of about ten minutes, when the holy man again made his appearance, and returned unattended to his own apartments. The excluded were then admitted, and a voice cried out, directing its tones to the upper lobby, "The Speaker's in the chair-open the gallery." This was the signal to unlock the flood-gates, and inundate the little gallery with those wilful sinners who every night commit an outrage upon the sacred privileges of the house, by daring to listen to its proceedings; but if ever a crime carried its own punishment along with it, this offence is surely never perpetrated with impunity, at least if I were to judge from the sincere repentance and hearty contrition I have observed in many of the delinquents, combined with a firm determination never to repeat the visit again.

My honourable friend soon made his appearance, and, giving the order to the doorkeeper, he and I entered the house. The deputy sergeant at arms conducted me to the benches where I was to take my seat on my own account-a piece of independence which the other members could not boast of, as they only occupy theirs as the delegates of others. They were sent there, and dared not to be absent; but I came there of my own free will and choice, and whether I staid or decamped was a matter concerning which no persons had authority to call me over the coals. I was, I felt, quite unshackled by constituents, and a member of the house as long as I staid there; and as I felt no inclination to interfere in their proceedings, and no ambition to speak after their fashion, the part of an inactive, silent member was mine for the evening. I looked around the house, when I had possessed myself of what I deemed the most eligible seat on the cross benches, and I recognised many of the Irish members, conservatives and dissolutives. Joe Hume was at his post ;* O'Connell was on the bench before him, flanked on the right by the mustachioed Colonel Sibthorpe, and on the left, by another piece of Toryism; Hunt was on the floor, seated with Peel, Croker, Goulburn, Harding, et hoc genus omne. But, oh! tell it not in Ennis, Maurice O'Connell was visible on the ministerial benches. I could scarcely credit my vision, and in order to be certain, I turned to a gentleman next to me, who wore spectacles-" Sir," said I, "can you discern if that is the member for Clare I see on the bench behind Lord Althorp?" He looked towards the spot, and in a moment replied, "yes, it is." "Ha!" said I, without venturing any further comment; but I suppose there was something in the tone in which my monosyllabic rejoinder was conveyed that caused him to remark it, for he very soon after took off his spectacles, and addressed me thus:-" Mr. Maurice O'Connell does not usually sit on that side of the house where you now see him; that gentleman with whom he is conversing is Mr. Spring Rice; he has just crossed the house, perhaps to speak to him relative to the motion his father intends bringing on to-night about Irish tithes." This simple

2 B

* An iron pillar that supports one of the side galleries of the house. VOL. I. NO. III.

relation solved at once what seemed a minute before quite inexplicable to me, and just as my friend in the spectacles had concluded his sentence, I saw the object of my astonishment rise from his seat amongst the Whigs, and cross the house to his place amongst the Tories, and the true Irish (alas! how few,) who occupy the opposition benches, and who, towards each other, since the defeat of the Wellington administration, preserve what Canning used to call "a dignified neutrality." The change of every administration creates a corresponding alteration in the places where the members sit. The outs give up their seats on the right of the Speaker, and humbly retire across the floor to the empty benches which their conqueror have politely left for them, while the ins modestly take possession of the seats which the philosophy of their predecessors had enabled them to vacate with a tolerably good grace. Upon the defeat of the Wellington administration there was a great movement-the Whigs, with all their retainers and adherents, went over to the treasury side. The Tories, however, did not find the opposition benches entirely empty; there was one party that did not follow in the wake of the victor-the true Irish. The change brought no hope to them, and they remained, like the fortunes of the land that sent them, uninfluenced and unmoved by the event which had overturned the policy of the British government.

With the exception of a few familiar faces amongst the Irish members, there is but little indicative of the union between the two countries observable in the House of Commons. As far as emblematic decorations go, there is scarcely any, if we except the Rose, Thistle, and Shamrock, worked upon the brass supporters of the side chandeliers, for, like the panels of the dress circle in Covent-garden theatre, they display those emblems of nationality and union. Upon the ceiling over the gallery there is some very beautiful trellis work in oak, representing the Rose and Thistle, exquisitely carved; it was placed there long before the year 1800, and I trust will shortly regain all its former propriety of character. It would be a pity to remove it now, for some clumsy piece of modern art, after allowing it to remain for thirty-two years, representing the union of England and Scotland. It is a strong proof of the cautious and circumspect manner in which John Bull does his own business. In the year 1800, instead of discarding this old fashioned piece of carving, and substituting one which would include the Rose, Thistle, and the Shamrock, he very wisely let it remain untouched, lest in aftertimes some event might render it necessary to take down his new work, and substitute the old piece of carving again. By this caution John has saved himself the trouble and expense of a new ceiling, so that when we get a repeal of the union, the only difference it will make with him will be, that he must send the chandeliers to the brazier's to have the Shamrocks filed off, for the oaken trellis work will be as emblematic as ever.

The Shamrock, the Rose, and the Thistle entwined,
Have long been the emblem of friendship combined;

But, oh! they regard not the Emerald stem,

Who tear it from earth to entwine it with them.

For the Rose hath its thorn, the Thistle its sting,

While nought can the Shamrock but gentleness bring;

And the touch when they meet darts the venom they bear

To the life of the Shamrock that soon withers there.-Anti-Union Song.

I had not been long in the house when a gentleman came and seated himself near me; he had a very literary appearance; his brow bore all the phrenological developments which science allots to genius; he wore spectacles; and as he took off his cloak and spread it upon the seat behind him, 1 thought I had seen him before; I had a vague recollection of his figure and features, as we have of one in whom a very few years may have produced so visible an alteration-slight, yet decisive, that memory is baffled for a while, and is unable to recall her identifying faculties, without the aid of some circumstance to enable her to establish her recognition. He must be somebody, I concluded; for I saw several members come over to speak to him, and amongst the rest, Sheil sat with him the longest. I might have remained ignorant of his name to this hour, were it not that Maurice O'Connell came over to speak to Sheil, and he recognised my unknown, and, with a hearty shake of the hands, I heard him address the latter as Dr. Lardner. The great cyclopodist was then before me, and in him I identified the scientific Dionysius, whose lectures I had attended in Dublin ere he had been dubbed Professor of Natural Philosophy to the London University, and before the Cabinet Cyclopædia had made its appearance.

A desultory debate had been for some time in progress relative to the English Registry Act. The house presented one of those frequent scenes of rudeness and inattention which is not quite compatible with the Collective Wisdom. With the exception of four or five persons, who were alternately speakers, no other persons seemed to pay the least attention to what was going forward; some were standing below the bar conversing in groups; others were in their places; but all seemed to have agreed upon one thing, which was not to listen, or allow any one else to do so with effect. The very Speaker had laid aside his official taciturnity, and was conversing with a member who leaned upon the arm of his chair. Talking of the Speaker puts me in mind of an anecdote relative to the familiarity which Hunt affected towards the Speaker, shortly after the dupes of Preston had made him an M. P. During the progress of a tedious debate there is a great deal of compassion due to the Speaker; he alone is obliged to be silent, who is so well qualified to speak, and he alone must listen to argument against his principles without having an opportunity to refute them; every other member can quit the house when he pleases, but he must remain until every one that chooses to bore the house has had his time. It is quite an act of charity, therefore, to steal over to the poor Speaker, and stand with him for a while, giving him either consolation by expressing your concern for his sufferings, or lightening the infliction he is enduring by your own well-timed facetiousness. Many good-natured members are thus nightly compelled to beguile the tedious senatorial hours of Manners Sutton; but no person undertakes the office, but one who can claim something more than a Parliamentary acquaintance with the object of his solicitude. However, there is a privilege in vulgarity which is quite superior to those minute distinctions which are observed in polished life; and one night, very soon after his return for Preston, Hunt was observed leaning familiarly next to the Speaker's chair, and chatting to him with all the