Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1882-05-24
The House OF Commons.

little bit of place, only large enough, am
told, to contain about half the members.
Still, it is seldom crowded, for the average
member of parliament stays away from his
duty with pertinacity that would do credit
to United States senator from Nevada.
The room is not more than one hundred
feet long by fifty wide. There is an open
space running along almost the entire length
Of the center of the apartment, some fifteen
feet wide, should say. On each side of
this space rows of pews gradually ascend,
one above the other, to the walls, like two
straight theater balconies facing each other
In these pews the members sit. Above
them, entirely circling the hail. is shallow
gallery for the visitor-that part of the gal
lery crossing the innermost end of the room
being reserved for the newspaper stenogra-
pliers. Still above these people there is a Sc
ries of tall grated windows, which look
like the apertures in the side of prison.
Behind these gratings one can see here and
there pretty face, set off by bright rib
bon or bunch of flowers, and he presently
learns that he is looking at the ladies' gal
lery. Exactly why they are fenced off in
this dark loft nobody about the place seems
to know. But there they must go if they
want TO see the Legislators at work, and
there they must sit like lot of well.clad
Jail birds. Below the reporters gallery, in
the open space between the rows of men,
bers, is the speakers chair. 1t is high
backed affair, like the oak furniture we
sometimes see in pulpits. II is set under
kind of canopy, also of carved oak, some
fifteen feet high, should think. The
speaker is clean-shaven man, seemingly
about fifty years old, though it is next to
impossible to correctly estimate his age, by
reason of the white wig which hangs down
over his shoulders on each side like a pair
of gray saddlebsgs. He also wears a black
gown, and when called upon for his decision
of any bubble that may come up, he rises
| slowly, advances step or two, and delivers
his opinion in low, but distinct and we'll
modulated voice. His manner is exceed
| ingly impressive, but to the American eye
it seems that the dignified and well-poised
bearing of this official would be greatly en-
HANGED by the removal of what In our coun-
try would be regarded as masquerading
| toggery. In front of the speaker there sits
two clerks, likewise rigged and robed. But
these are not impressive parties, and only
aggravate the notion of the American about
the grotesque effect of these garments.
| One of the things which strikes the stranger
more forcibly is the fact that nearly all the
members wear their "plug" hats while sit
| ting in the house. They only remove these
articles of head-gear when they rise to speak,
or when the speaker alludes to one of them
All in all, the hat-wearing business may be
regarded as fair sample of the manners of
the assemblage. If speaker begins to talk
upon topic which has no particular inter-
est, 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 lobbies once more. If man
is particularly obnoxious to them, they be-
gin concerted system of coughing, which
can have no other effect than to drown his
words. If they like a man or what he has
to say, they howl, "Hear hear !" for two or
three minutes sometimes, and it is always
hard to tell when they laugh whether it is
done in irony or appreciativeness of some
humorous point. hardly think, however,
that the latter application frequently exists,
partly because humorous points are not Of
momentary occurrence in the speeches of
the house, and partly because the house
wouldn't know it if they were. Such
another shambling, hem-and-hawing lot Of
takers | never heard. The great bulk Of
them have no ideas to convey, and only a
very few of those who have understand how
to convey them, either with force or ele-
gance. Mr.. Gladstone is one of the clearest,
readiest takers have ever heard. He sits
in the front row of the members pews, on
the lefthand side, facing the speaker, close
by the end of the table, which stands in
front of the white-wigged clerks. Perhaps
| should have said he reclined there, for he
doesn't exactly sit. His head is thrown
back, and rests upon the upper edge Of the
pew-back, his hands are casped in his lap,
his legs are sprawled out in front, and he
has the general appearance of man sound
asleep. But he isn't. Now and then the
eyelids half open, aud shade of expression
crosses the wrinkled features, as the old
man mentally makes note for future use.
When his opponent has ceased speaking,
Mr.. Gladstone comes to his feet with sur
prising agility, and advances step or two
TO the end of the table. There is little
he places the ends of his right fingers upon
this box. He lifts his chin rather above
its normal height, like a man used to talk
ing to a 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 Mr.. Gladstone
talks, he grows. In silence and repose you
see thin and shriveled old man, with long,
slender legs, swollen joints, a hooked nose,
sunken eyes, sparsely clothed head, rather
narrow through the temples, but broad and
high over the ears, struggling white whisk-
ers, which shamble down the sides of his
face and under his throat, and general air
Of physical decay that is not altogether re-
assuring But, as his chin goes up, and his
breast protrudes and the words begin to
roll out with rapidity and resonance, as
the eyes kindle 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
perfect confidence of the practiced speaker,
and the eloquence OF manner, no less than
of words, which proclaims the orator. lie
is by all odds the most admirable talker
have heard in England. lie uses no notes,
and, as soon as he has finished what he has
to say, he slouches back upon his seat, ap-
parently in that state of complete physical
collapse which Charles Dickens ascribes to
the old paralytic who is always throwing
his pillow at some one, and Immediately
falling helpless in his chair.-London Cor
respondent Of Boston Herald.
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