liamentary boroughs. The brass gas
standards by Hardman are elaborately chased. The doorways lead to the
library, the post-office, vote paper office, central hall, &c." Is this
all? Yes, is the answer of one of the matter-of-fact class, of whom
Peter Bell is such an illustrious example.

We are not all Peter Bells. We are of those who can read sermons in
stones. We fancy for every why there is a wherefore. Wealthy men, and
busy men, and great men, don't stand talking and grimacing for nothing;
and when I catch one member in a corner with Brown I am not greenhorn
enough to suppose that they are merely inquiring after each other's
health, or commenting on the extraordinary mildness of the season, and
its probable effect on the growth of cabbages. No, no, you may be
certain that the Lobby of the House of Commons, where I have seen our
greatest statesmen, our proudest peers, the nation's most illustrious
guests, ambassadors, and princes, and wags, is not the place for small
talk. Without studying "De Morgan on Probabilities" (a sin of which I am
never likely to be guilty), you will not be far wrong if you come to the
conclusion that in the Lobby, somehow or other, between the hours 4 P.M.
and 2 A.M., not a little business is settled more or less agreeable to
all parties concerned. (Of course I am not referring to the young sprigs
of nobility, who come into the House merely as an amusement, and without
the slightest idea of the rights and duties of their class, and who are
neither more nor less than a parody upon the representative system of
which we are all so proud.) A few sentences will point to the
significancy of the Lobby. Every member of the House of Commons passes
through the Lobby. That is a given fact. Another is, that the Treasury
Whipper-in affects the Lobby. Another is, that if you have anything to
say to your member, or if he has anything to say to you, the Lobby is the
place of rendezvous. These facts are suggestive. I am member for
Bullock Smithy. I am not wealthy, and I have a large family. The
Ministry are hard driven, one vote will save them. I meet their
Whipper-in in the Lobby. We have a little chat. I give an honest vote,
and virtue is rewarded by the appointment of my son to a place in the
Circumlocution Office. "This is an exaggeration!" exclaims the general
public. Let me then, give another case. I am member for Bullock Smithy;
I am rich, but I have no family, and I am a man o