Morning journal and courier., 1882-05-15
Price Four Cents.

| as fair sample of the manners of the as- semblage If 8 speaker begins to talk upon topic which has particular interest, about three quarters of the members will bolt for the doors. Then somebody calls for count and they stroll back until the count is completed, when they trot right out into the Hobbies once more. If 8 man IS particularly obnoxious to them they begin 8 concerted system of coughing, which can have no oth- CT effect than to drown his words. If they like a man or what he has to say they howl, Hear hear i'' for two or three minutes sometimes, and it is always hard to tell when they laugh whether it is done in irony or ap- preclativeness of some humorous point. I hardly think, however, that the latter appli- cation frequently exists partly because hu- morous points are not of momentary occur renee in the speeches of the House, and part ly because the House wouldn't know it if they were Such another Ehambling, hem-and- having lot of takers I never heard. The great bulk of them have no ideas to convey, and only very few of those who have un- derstand how to convey them, either with force or elegance.
 Mr. Gladstone is one of the dearest, read jest takers have ever heard. He sits in the front row of the members pews, on the left hand side, facing the Speaker, close by the end of the table, which stands in front of the white -wigged clerks. Perhaps I should have said he recIined there, for he doesn't ex- aetly sit. His head is thrown back, and rests upon the upper edge of the -pew-back- his hands are clasped in his lap, his legs are sprawled out in front, and he has the general appearance of a man sound asleep. But he isn't Now and then the eyelids half open, and shade of expression crosses the vrin- kled features, as the old man mentally makes a note for future use. When his opponent has ceased speaking, Mir. Gladstone comes to his feet with surprising agility, and advances step or tSo to the end of the table. There IS little red b here, containing his docu- ments, and he places the ends of his right hand fingers upon this box He lifts his chin rather above its normal height, like a man used to talking to gallery. and as the words flow freely from between his lips, he emphasizes them by prodding the box with the tips of his strengthened fingers. As Mir Gladstone talks, he grows In silence and repose you see a thin and shriveled old man, with long, slender legs, swollen joints q hooked nose, sunken eyes, spersely clothed head, rather narrow through the temples but broad and high over the ears, struggling white whiskers, which shamble down the sides of his face and under his throat, and general air of physical decay that is not altogether reassuring. But. as his chin goes up and his chest protrudes, and the words begin to roll out with rapidity and resonance, as the eyes hndle and the smile of conscious power spreads over the old face, you begin to feel the reason of the Premier's grip upon the politics of Great Britain. He has the per feet confidence of the practiced speaker, and that eloquetce of manner, no less than of words, which proclaims the orator. Heis by all odds the most admirable taIker have heard in England He uses no notes, and as soon as he has finished what he has to say he slouches back upon his seat, apparently in that state of complete physical collapse which Charles Dickens sscribes to the old paralytie, who is always throwing his pillow at some one. and immediately falling helpless in his chair.