a hush of expectation, and presently Mr. Gladstone rose to his feet.  A great burst of applause welcomed him, lasting more than a minute.  His clean-cut features, his furrowed cheeks, his scanty and whitened hair, his well-shaped but not extraordinary head, all familiarized by innumerable portraits and emphasized in hundreds of caricatures, revealed him at once to every spectator.  His great speech has been universally read, and I need only speak of the way in which it was delivered.  His manner was forcible rather than impassioned or eloquent; his voice was clear enough, but must have troubled him somewhat, for he had a small bottle from which he poured something into a glass from time to time and swallowed a little, yet I heard him very well for the most part.  In the last portion of his speech he became animated and inspiriting, and his closing words were uttered with an impressive solemnity:  “Think, I beseech you, think well, think wisely, think not for a moment, but for the years that are to come, before you reject this bill.”

After the burst of applause which followed the conclusion of Mr. Gladstone’s speech, the House proceeded to the division on the question of passing the bill to a second reading.  While the counting of the votes was going on there was the most intense excitement.  A rumor ran round the House at one moment that the vote was going in favor of the second reading.  It soon became evident that this was not the case, and presently the result was announced, giving a majority of thirty against the bill, and practically overthrowing the liberal administration.  Then arose a tumult of applause from the conservatives and a wild confusion, in the midst of which an Irish member shouted, “Three cheers for the Grand Old Man!” which were lustily given, with waving of hats and all but Donnybrook manifestations of enthusiasm.

I forgot to mention that I had a very advantageous seat among the diplomatic gentlemen, and was felicitating myself on occupying one of the best positions in the House, when an usher politely informed me that the Russian Ambassador, in whose place I was sitting, had arrived, and that I must submit to the fate of eviction.  Fortunately, there were some steps close by, on one of which I found a seat almost as good as the one I had just left.

It was now two o’clock in the morning, and I had to walk home, not a vehicle being attainable.  I did not know my way to my headquarters, and I had no friend to go with me, but I fastened on a stray gentleman, who proved to be an ex-member of the House, and who accompanied me to 17 Dover Street, where I sought my bed with a satisfying sense of having done a good day’s work and having been well paid for it.

III.