ndid blood, start for their parks or respective Belgravian
homes. We also, in more plebeian manner, do the same. We are sure the
reader will have had enough of the Lords for one night. He will have
found out that they are not much better orators or speakers than other
men--that even lords stammer, utter incoherent remarks, display poverty
of ideas. Let us add, in conclusion, the great merit of a night in the
Lords is, that it is soon over. If the Lords be dull, at any rate they
are short. To be dull and long-winded is an offence against good
breeding of which few peers are guilty.

THE REPORTERS' GALLERY.

If it has ever been your lot, most magnanimous sir, to be in the
neighbourhood of Westminster Hall about four any afternoon while
Parliament is sitting, you must have observed more than one individual,
with cheeks evidently "sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,"
rushing into the door which leads to the Strangers' Gallery in the House
of Commons. If, however, you look well, you will see that the parties
referred to, instead of going the whole length of the passage, as you are
compelled to do when occasionally you get an order, turn sharply to the
left and climb a flight of narrow stairs. If you manage to follow them,
you will find at the top of the stairs a small lobby, where three or four
boys, in the livery of the Electric Telegraph Company, are waiting to
receive the parliamentary report, which almost immediately after is
flashing along the wires to our great hives of industry, of intelligence,
and life, or to the capitals of other lands--to Paris--to Vienna--to
Berlin. You turn to the left and enter a small room set apart for
refreshments--three or four individuals are seated at table, one drinking
Bass's far-famed ale, another feasting on juicy beef, another regaling
himself with brandy-and-water, and another sipping the less stimulating
and equally agreeable produce of the coffee plant. The happy fellows are
poking their fun at each other in a mild and pleasant way, or possibly
discussing the usual political topics of the day; others flit through the
room with a celerity, as Mr. Squeers said of nature, easier imagined than
described. Were they followed by gentlemen of Hebrew extraction, with
those mysterious little slips of paper which contain letters of such
magic power, they could not walk faster. As you listen, utterances of
doubtful and dire import fall from their lips. "Palmersto