"Sir," I replied, in a very clear voice, at the same time unbuttoning my coat, which was made like the one I had flown with at Happystowe; "I will not presume upon your indulgence, nor trespass on the kindness of the House below me, except with a very brief quotation, well known to all British Members, whom I would ask to join me in reciting it." I had now drawn forth a little Union Jack, made for me by my darling; and flinging it open from its hollow silver staff, waved it in the strong light, around my head, keeping time with the noble lines I sang, in a voice that made the heart of oak resound, and the hearts and lungs of men rebound-- "The flaunting flag of liberty, Of Gallia's sons the boast, Oh never may a Briton see, Upon the British coast! "The only flag that freedom rears, Her emblem on the seas, Is the flag that braves a thousand years, The battle, and the breeze. "But fast would flow the nation's tears, If traitor hands should seize The flag that braves a thousand years, The battle, and the breeze. "And shall we yield to dastard fears Our empire of the seas-- The flag that braves a thousand years, The battle, and the breeze?" Every face was turned towards me, and every throat joined in with mine, and every arm was waved (even of the Irish Members) to keep time with my waving of the glorious flag. And perhaps there has never been a vaster roar, even in the British House of Commons, than when I came down, with my flag flying bravely, bowed deeply to the Speaker, for his good grace, and took Sir Roland's arm, to go with him to the lobby; for my head was giddy, with excitement, and timidity. "Keep up your pluck, Tommy," whispered Sir Roland; "you have done it this time, I believe, my boy. By Jove, how splendidly you sang! You have saved the Country, and won Laura." CHAPTER XLIV. THE ENGLISH LION. People, who care for nothing, are capable of saying almost anything; but even of these, there are not many, who would call the British House of Commons, a sentimental body. But anybody, being at all a body, must now and then feel its flesh rebel at the ghostly proceedings of its Cock-loft tenant. Pure reason (like the doctrine of free trade) is a very fine existence, if it would only work. But, alas! like the other, it finds practical issue mainly in keeping people out of work. The deep love of our birth, which arises with our life, rose anew in the heart of every Englishman, and forced him to scorn petty faction, and vote, as his father and mother would have made him. The infamous and traitorous plot (which would have ended, in the ancient days, at Tower Hill) ended in a very hot majority of more than fifty, against the Government. As a last faint hope, they appealed to the Country, which had long borne patiently its sickness of them.