then retire from the gallery; for then, and not till then, the voting really commences.  And now the members call aloud to the gallery, “Withdraw! withdraw!” On this the strangers withdraw, and are shut up in a small room at the foot of the stairs till the voting is over, when they are again permitted to take their places in the gallery.  Here I could not help wondering at the impatience even of polished Englishmen.  It is astonishing with what violence, and even rudeness, they push and jostle one another as soon as the room door is again opened, eager to gain the first and best seats in the gallery.  In this manner we (the strangers) have sometimes been sent away two or three times in the course of one day, or rather evening, afterwards again permitted to return.  Among these spectators are people of all ranks, and even, not unfrequently, ladies.  Two shorthand writers have sat sometimes not far distant from me, who (though it is rather by stealth) endeavour to take down the words of the speaker; and thus all that is very remarkable in what is said in parliament may generally be read in print the next day.  The shorthand writers, whom I noticed, are supposed to be employed and paid by the editors of the different newspapers.  There are, it seems, some few persons who are constant attendants on the parliament; and so they pay the door-keeper beforehand a guinea for a whole session.  I have now and then seen some of the members bring their sons, whilst quite little boys, and carry them to their seats along with themselves.

A proposal was once made to erect a gallery in the House of Peers also for the accommodation of spectators.  But this never was carried into effect.  There appears to be much more politeness and more courteous behaviour in the members of the upper House.  But he who wishes to observe mankind, and to contemplate the leading traits of the different characters most strongly marked, will do well to attend frequently the lower, rather than the other, House.

Last Tuesday was (what is here called) hanging-day.  There was also a parliamentary election.  I could only see one of the two sights, and therefore naturally preferred the latter, while I only heard tolling at a distance the death-bell of the sacrifice to justice.  I now, therefore, am going to describe to you, as well as can, an

Election for a Member of Parliament.

The cities of London and Westminster send, the one four, and the other two, members to parliament.  Mr. Fox is one of the two members for Westminster.  One seat was vacant, and that vacancy was now to be filled.  And the same Sir Cecil Wray, whom Fox had before opposed to Lord Hood, was now publicly chosen.  They tell me that at these elections, when there is a strong opposition party, there is often bloody work; but this election was, in the electioneering phrase, a “hollow thing”—­i.e. quite sure, as those who had voted for Admiral Hood now withdrew, without standing a poll, as being convinced beforehand their chance to succeed was desperate.