the scene; in fact, takes away anything like sombreness, in
appearance and aspect at least, from an assembly which otherwise is
calculated to suggest sinister reminiscences of coming trouble and the
approaching darkness of political agitation. The benches, too, have a
richness which is foreign to the House of Commons, as the members of the
popular assembly sit on benches covered with a deep green leather, which
is dark, modest, and unpretentious. There is always something, to my eye
at least, that suggests opulence in the colour crimson, and the benches
of the Upper Chamber are all in crimson leather, and the crimson has all
the freshness which comes from rarity of use. In the House of Commons,
with all its workaday and industrious life, the deep and dark green has
always more or less of a worn and shabby look. In the Upper Chamber the
original splendour of the crimson cloth is undimmed; for most of the
benches remain void and unoccupied for 999 nights of the thousand on
which their lordships meet.

[Sidenote: The two chambers--a contrast.]

Whatever the cause I always associate the House of Lords in my mind with
emptiness and silence, and the gloomy scenes of desertion. And,
therefore, when I see it crowded as it was on this historic Monday
evening, the effect it produces is heightened by the recollection and
the sense of the contrast it presents to its ordinary appearance. The
House of Commons has a certain impressiveness and splendour of air when
it is very full; I always have a certain sense of exaltation by the mere
looking at its crowded benches on these nights when the excitement of
the hour brings everybody to his place. But then the House of Commons is
frequently full, and there is no such sense of unusualness when you see
it thus that you have when you look on the House of Lords with benches
teeming with multitudinous life which you have seen so often empty,
lifeless, and ghostly. Thus splendid was the scene, and yet it gave you
a prevailing and unconquerable impression of gloom and lifelessness. In
the House of Commons, the member addressing the assembly is like the
wind which passes through an AEolian harp. You cannot utter a word which
does not produce its full and immediate response. You say a thing which
has the remotest approach to an absurdity in it, and the whole House
laughs consumedly and immediately. You utter a phrase which excites
party feeling, and at once--quick as lightning falls--comes back t