The Sun.
London, England, 1845-12-04 00:00:00

CHAMBERS.

The entrance of Marshal Soult produces always a
certain amount of sensation. * The illustrious
warrior, in respect to the popular sovereignty, uncovers
his noble head even before he enters the Salle des Pas
Perdus. Handing his stick to the valet who follos's
him, he traverses the hall with a slow and halting pace
—the consequence of a wound received forty years ago,
at the siege of Genoa. The crowd make way as be
approaches. Men of all ranks bow to the Marshal, but
no one offers him the hand: his martial bearing, his hair
whitened in the service of the State, his stately attitude,
impose respect.—When M. Guizot enters, men press
on his footsteps, and follow him through the hall, seek-
ing lin his face the traces of that energy and firmness
which he exhibits in discussion. But he, in most
cases, glides through the hall'at a quick pace, his hat
overshadowing one-half his face, and vanishes in the
passages, disconcerting the curious by the rapidity of
the evolution. Towards the close of the session, how-
ever, when all the questions of foreign policy aro re-'
solved, M. Guizot makes his triumphal entries. With
his hat thrown back, his face unshaded, and his hands
in his pockets, he advances slowly up the hall, receives
compliments, takes leave of his friends, and grasps
hands on every side. * # When M. Thiers is in
power, like M. Guizot, he hurries through the crowd,
and passes on. But during the last two sessions his en-
trance, as chief of the Opposition, is very bustling. Fol-
lowed by several of his political friends, at every step
his train increases. On all sides be is stopped, ques-
tioned, apostrophised. He answers with a short and
dry politeness—takes by the arm one of his colleagues,
or one of the editors of the journals in his interest,
and makes his way into one of the more retired
halls, or into the lobbies of the public galleries, for
greater freedom of speech. lie shakes off his cortege,
as a general might his staff. * * Count Mole
has the bearing and attitude of a statesman—a great
man of former days. Round him are neither aides-de-
camp, nor friends, nor familiars. He has colleagues, but
no equals ; and the courtiers who throng on his foot-
steps in power keep not far aloof. His march is grave,
even solemn ; his speech, though polite, reserved, cold,
abrupt—sometimes monotonous. He traverses the hall
with a slow and measured pace ; and passes through its
bustling and agitated groups without even regarding
them. From time to time, he replies to such compli-
ments or questions as he cannot avoid ; but without a
movement, look or gesture that betrays to the most pe •
netrating his sentiment or impression of the hour. *
But ho has the art to win the confidence and sympathy of
those whom ho desires to conciliate, by his affability in
private interviews, carefully conducted—and which in-
clude the secret of his power.—M. Berryer loves to show
himself in the hall, and receive the compliments and ho-
mage of its groups. He is the centre of a circle of admirers
and flatterers of his great renown ; but his following is
ordinarily composed less of Deputies than of persons from
out of doors. M. Berryer wears his historical blue coat,
buttoned military-fashion up to the throat—which gives
a severe and martial appearance to the man.—M. do
Lamartine appears rarely in the hall, and never stays
there long. Occasionally he may be observed, with his.
melancholy air, passing towards the waiting-room in
search of his constituents, who draw him from the
Chamber under pretext of obtaining tickets,. u
If•juorheoften
really with a view to acquaint themseltes with
fea-
tures of the illustrious poet. * M. D
in flings,
as he passes, his pointed arrows of speech against
ffrr,i3emnd
mouth
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all the hall who is its witty centre.—The entrance of
M. Odillon Barrot is always solemn—his look haughty,
his gait magisterial. The leader of the Left seems to
carry his head with self-respect. He hails no one, takes
no notice of the homage paid him, speaks loudly and
scatters his words with an easy indifference.—M. Du-
retire is the only Deputy of great note who never pauses
in the Salle des Pas Perdus. He passes through it ra-
pidly with his eyes on the ground. He has always an
anxious brow and an impenetrable face. I never saw
him smile, or converse in any group—as if he feared to
be taken for a conspirator. * He has abandoned, in
turn, his friends et the Opposition and his Conservative
friends ; and, in the very isolation which he has created
for himself, has been, nevertheless, the most dangerous
opposition in the Chamber.

Mr. Montgomery Martin had an interview yesterday
with the Earl of Dalhousie.