DIZZY once said the occasions when a man addressing House of Commons need exceed twenty minutes, come to him only twice or thrice in a lifetime.  He did more than preach; he carried into practice his own principle with success.  Very rarely in later years, even when Leader of House of Commons, did he exceed twenty minutes, and all his most successful interpositions in debate were on that plan.  When, occasionally, he felt that circumstances demanded a long and laboured address, his labour was in vain.

Capital speech, too, of quite another kind, from DUNBAR BARTON.  Most promising maiden speech delivered in present Parliament; of good omen that best parts were not those prepared in leisure of study, put the earlier passages evoked by preceding debate, and necessarily impromptu.  As for SAUNDERSON, he was in his best form.

“SAUNDERSON,” said the SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, recognising a kindred spirit, “always reminds me of those Lifeguardsmen you see at the Military Festival, riding round Agricultural Hall slashing off heads.  The heads are dummies, and no harm is done; but it’s a pretty sight.”

The Colonel rides well, and is a skilful swordsman.

Delight of audience crowding in after dinner completed by TIM HEALY dashing in with intent to trip up Colonel.  Domestic difficulties in the Party have not smoothed down TIM’s natural truculence.  With JOHN REDMOND sitting behind him and SAUNDERSON in front, a porcupine in fretful mood is a ball of spun silk compared with TIM.

After this RADCLIFFE COOKE and collapse, with the prospect of proceedings droning on till midnight, then adjournment, and begin again to-morrow.  Suddenly, on stroke of twelve, Closure moved.  House completely taken aback.  Whilst it sat gasping under shock SPEAKER declared Closure carried; bells rang through all the corridors; Members trooped in to find Division imminent.  When figures declared, showing Government had been surprised into narrow majority of 21, fresh wave of excitement welled forth, amid which Address was, somehow, agreed to.  Members went off into snowstorm, cheering and laughing as if there had never before been such larks.

Business done.—­Address agreed to.

Tuesday Night.—­GRANDOLPH turned up to-day; took his familiar corner seat; tugged at his old moustache; caressed his new beard, and listened to SEALE HAYNE recklessly attacking the sacred institution of Justiciary of the Peace.

“Nothing changed, TOBY, dear boy,” he said; “not even the Ministry.  When I came back from Mashonaland I was told we were on the eve of political earthquake.  The House of Commons was to be transformed into a cockpit; the Benches steepled in the gore of an iniquitous Ministry.  But, except for some vacant places and some further advancement of privates in the little band I once officered, it’s all the same, only a little drearier.  The same throng in the Lobby, the same rows of Members sitting on the Benches, the same Mace