's
speech; you could merely see Jones, with an unhappy expression of face,
and to the infinite annoyance of the House, waving his arms in an
inelegant manner; yet how well Jones's speech read in the _Times_ the
next day. Once upon a time a paper attempted to report literally what
the members said--not what they should have said. They were threatened
with so many actions for libel that they were all obliged to abandon the
attempt; and now the reporters take care that the speeches contain good
grammar, if they do not contain good sense. Nor, most good-natured sir,
are you under fewer obligations. It is owing to them that you read the
debate over your muffins and coffee at your ease, in your morning gown
and slippers, whilst otherwise you would have to remain in profound
ignorance of it altogether, or would have to fight your way into the
gallery as best you could, besides running a risk of catching cold or
having your favourite corn trod on. Think, then, of the Reporters'
Gallery leniently. The brave fellows in it suffer much for you. Cowper
makes the slave in the "Negro's Complaint" exclaim--

"Think ye, masters, iron-hearted,
Lolling at your jovial boards,
Think how many backs have smarted
For the sweets your cane affords."

A thinking public, at times, should reason in a similar manner. The
reporters don't find it all play. People should remember--if a debate be
dull to read--how terrible it must be to hear!

THE LOBBY OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS DURING THE SESSION.

England, Ireland, Scotland, and our forty colonies are ruled, not from
Downing-street, not from Privy Councils at Buckingham Palace, nor by the
_Times_ newspaper, as some pretend, nor even by the stump orator, but by
the Lobby of the House of Commons. This I know, that if I were a member
of the United Kingdom Alliance, and wished to root up the liquor traffic
in England--that if I were a Scotchman, and endeavoured to confirm and
extend the provisions of the Forbes Mackenzie Act--that even were I of
the Green Isle, and raised the cry of justice for Ireland, whatever that
may mean--I'd plant myself in the Lobby of the House of Commons, and
there win victory or die.

Externally the Lobby is a handsome one; little more. Mr. Timbs tells me
it is "a rich apartment, forty-five feet square, and has on each side an
archway, carved open screens, inscribed _Domine salvam fac Reginam_, and
windows painted with the arms of par