we see outlines of female forms; and we wonder if the time will ever arrive when Lucretia Mott’s dream shall be realised, and woman take her seat in the senate, side by side with the tyrant man. Under the Reporters’ Gallery, and immediately facing us, sits the Speaker, in his chair of state. On his right are the Treasury Benches; on the left, those where the Opposition are condemned to sit, and fume and fret in vain. Between these benches is the table at which the clerk sits, and on which petitions, when they are received, are ordered to lie, and where are placed the green boxes, on which orators are very fond of striking, in order to give to their speeches particular force. At the end of this table commences the gangway, which is supposed to be filled with independent statesmen, and to whom, therefore, at particular times, the most passionate appeals are addressed. Lower down is the Bar of the House, where sits the sergeant-at-arms on a chair of state, with a sword by his side; but him we cannot see, as he is immediately under us. At the end of the table lies the “gilt bauble,” as Cromwell called the mace—which is the sign of the Speaker’s presence, and which is always put under the table when the Speaker leaves the chair. At one time, when a message from the Lords was announced, the Mace-bearer, bearing the mace, went to the Bar of the House, and met the Messenger, who came forward bowing, and retired in the same manner, with his face to the Speaker; for it would have been a terrible breach of etiquette had the Messenger favoured that illustrious personage with a glimpse of his back. When the Speaker leaves the chair, no one else occupies it. The House then goes into committee, and a chairman is appointed, who sits by the clerks at the table. On such occasions one of the forms of the House pertinaciously adhered to is often productive of good results. According to parliamentary rules, when the Speaker puts the motion that “I do now leave the chair,” previously to going into committee, it is at the option of any member who has a question to ask, or a statement to make, or a grievance to proclaim, to move that the House do now adjourn, and then deliver himself of whatever he may wish to say; or he can make his statement as an amendment. Such forms are very valuable, though often very inconvenient to ministers who are anxious to get over the business of the country with as much expedition as possible, and give independent members an opportunity of uttering their sentiments, of exposing jobs, of being a terror to evil rulers, and a praise to them that do well. They often lead to very animated discussions. In such little skirmishes Lord Palmerston, the Bight Hon. Benjamin Disraeli, and Mr. Thomas Duncombe greatly shine. As a rule, you may in consequence hear better debates between half-past five and eight—the time when these little scenes may be expected—than at any other period of the evening, unless, in the small