We, who were punctual, heard it all (after prayers) announced, in a telegraphic voice; as a thing which should go in at one ear, and out at the other, in every head giving up its brains, (as every head, that has got any, does) to the only one worth counting. The Liberal Members seemed thankful for the news; because we could scarcely have rescued the hero, and redeemed our faith, for twelve hundred pounds; and because it set us free, to look after some other, who would truckle more kindly, and pay his own way. But we thought it very bad--very bad indeed; though, of course, it was treason to say so. And none of us saw any light in it; which shows that our eyes were not open. This piece (of a piece with the rest) of foreign news, happened to arrive on a Saturday; and we (for the sake of the fifty-two reforms) had a Saturday sitting already; which lasted in fact until Church-time on Sunday, and must have despatched any other prime-minister to a place, where even he would scarcely hold all preferment. However, his influence adjourned the fourth commandment--as it used to treat the third--even in the souls of Scotchmen. For the few, who like to see one of our disasters discussed upon its merits, the best chance is, when the news arrives near about noon of Saturday. It is too late then, for the evening papers to shed their mild light upon it, even if they all employed the gentleman, who settles (at a glance, and a stroke) all the monthly labour of the magazines. And as for the Sunday papers, any that were not out on Friday night (reversing the premier's chronology) have shut their frames now, and are working off. This is as it should be, enabling a sound Briton to go to church, without praying for the Commination Service. Then upon Monday morning, like a string of horses who have observed the sabbath, with a loud neigh and caper, rush forth the morning papers. They swallow up the earth, like the horse of Job, trample under foot a few writers of fiction--as though they had none on their own backs--scatter the thunder of their neck (or cheek) upon every man they have no fear of, and with one or two quiet exceptions, go down upon their knees, for the jockey of the period to mount them, if he deigns. But on this Monday morning, they came out mildly, (the most rampant nag knows where his oats are kept) sniffing the air for the direction of the breeze; and going gingerly, as if some English flint remained. And they found very speedily, and so did we, that the great steam roller had not crushed out every power of spark from our ancient metal. "The tone of the Press is changed, at last;" Sir Roland Twentifold said to me, when the House was meeting for the final issue; "too late to help their Country much; but in time to give waverers some excuse for wavering. There will be as full a House, as ever was known. But our seats are safe. Come, and let me introduce you to Lord Grando."