_Tuesday_.--HANBURY came down to-day full of virtuous resolution and stern resolve. Privileges of House of Commons have been struck at, and through him; DARTMOUTH, Lord-Lieutenant of Staffordshire, has been writing things in the papers; rebukes HANBURY, "as a Magistrate for Staffordshire," for having made certain speech in. Commons about Grenadier Guards. HANBURY hitherto said nothing in public on the matter; has been in communication with DARTMOUTH by post and telegram; has boldly vindicated privileges of Commons; has brought the insolent Lord Lieutenant to his knees; but till this moment has made no public reference to the part he played. Has borne, unsoothed by companionship, the sorrow of the House of Commons. Now hour has struck; he may come to the front, and, with habitual modesty of men, indicate rather than describe the imperishable service he has done the Commons. House, all unconscious of what is in store for it, wantons at play. Innumerable questions on paper. SUMMERS coming up fresh with batch of new conundrums. PATRICK O'BRIEN "having had his attention called" to some verses by SWINBURNE, proposes to read them. House wickedly delighted at prospect of SWINBURNE being haltingly declaimed with North Tipperary accent localised by companionship with the Town Commissioners of Nenagh; SPEAKER thinks it might be funny, but wouldn't be business; so PATRICK: having begun, "Night brings but one red star--Tyrannicide," is sternly pulled up. OLD MORALITY says he's never seen "the publication;" has asked friends near him, and everyone says he has neither seen, heard, nor read of it. "The House," says the SPEAKER, by way of crushing ignominy, "has no control over the poet SWINBURNE." [Illustration: W.H. SMITH AS "THE ROVER OF THE SEAS." "ONCE MORE ON BOARD THE LUGGER, AND I AM FREE!"] So House deprived of its anticipated lark; all the while HANBURY, with hands in pockets, sits staring gloomily forth, rather pitying than resentful. House of course does not know what is in store for it; still this trifling at the very moment when, though all inconspicuously, the Commons have been saved from contumelious outrage, racks the soul that carries with it the momentous secret.