ere."

He was as good as his word when he first came to town, and was wont to
appear in a low-crowned beaver hat of uncertain architecture. But after
he had for some weeks assisted the process of Legislature under the
shadow of this hat, the Speaker privately and in considerate terms
conveyed to him a hint that, in the matter of hats at least, it was
desirable to have uniformity in the House of Commons.

Mr. Martin, who, in spite of his melodramatic speeches and his strong
personal resemblance to Danny Man in the "Colleen Nawn," is, Chiltern
says, really one of the gentlest and most docile of men, straightway
abandoned the nondescript hat and sacrificed his inclinations and
principles to the extent of buying what he calls "a top hat." But he
has not taken kindly to it, and never will. It is always getting in his
way, under his feet or between his knees, and he is apparently driven
to observe the precaution of constantly holding it in his hands when it
is not safely disposed on his head. It is always thus held before him,
a hand firmly grasping the rim on either side, when he is making those
terrible speeches we read, in which he proves that John Mitchel is an
unoffending martyr, and that the English, to serve their private ends,
introduced the famine in Ireland.

Mr. Cowen, the member for Newcastle, shares Mr Martin's prejudices about
hats, and up to the present time has not abandoned them. As we passed
through the lobby on our way to the Gallery, Chiltern pointed him out to
me. He was distinguished in the throng by wearing a round hat of soft
felt, and he has never been seen at Westminster in any other. But at
least he does not put it on his head in the House; and it is much better
to sit upon than the tall hats on the top of which excited orators not
unfrequently find themselves when, hotly concluding their perorations
and unconscious of having left their hats just behind them, they throw
themselves back on the bench from which they had erewhile risen to "say
a few words."

The gentleman on the left of the Premier is said to be Sir Stafford
Northcote, but there is so little of his face to be seen through the
abundance of whisker and moustache that I do not think any one has a
right to speak positively on the matter. The smooth-faced man next to
him is Mr. Gathorne Hardy. The tall, youthful-looking man on his left is
Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, who, I suppose by instructions of the Cabinet,
generally sits, as he does