ithout a sound; where the two or three guests
would as soon think of knocking each other down as of speaking; where
the servants whisper, and the whole household is disturbed if an order
be given above the voice,--what can be more melancholy than a mutton
chop and a pint of port in such a place?

Having gone through this Mr Harding got into another omnibus, and
again returned to the House. Yes, Sir Abraham was there, and was
that moment on his legs, fighting eagerly for the hundred and seventh
clause of the Convent Custody Bill. Mr Harding's note had been
delivered to him; and if Mr Harding would wait some two or three
hours, Sir Abraham could be asked whether there was any answer.
The House was not full, and perhaps Mr Harding might get admittance
into the Strangers' Gallery, which admission, with the help of five
shillings, Mr Harding was able to effect.

This bill of Sir Abraham's had been read a second time and passed into
committee. A hundred and six clauses had already been discussed and
had occupied only four mornings and five evening sittings; nine of
the hundred and six clauses were passed, fifty-five were withdrawn
by consent, fourteen had been altered so as to mean the reverse of
the original proposition, eleven had been postponed for further
consideration, and seventeen had been directly negatived. The hundred
and seventh ordered the bodily searching of nuns for jesuitical
symbols by aged clergymen, and was considered to be the real mainstay
of the whole bill. No intention had ever existed to pass such a law
as that proposed, but the government did not intend to abandon it
till their object was fully attained by the discussion of this clause.
It was known that it would be insisted on with terrible vehemence by
Protestant Irish members, and as vehemently denounced by the Roman
Catholic; and it was justly considered that no further union between
the parties would be possible after such a battle. The innocent Irish
fell into the trap as they always do, and whiskey and poplins became a
drug in the market.

A florid-faced gentleman with a nice head of hair, from the south of
Ireland, had succeeded in catching the speaker's eye by the time that
Mr Harding had got into the gallery, and was denouncing the proposed
sacrilege, his whole face glowing with a fine theatrical frenzy.

"And this is a Christian country?" said he. (Loud cheers; counter
cheers from the ministerial benches. "Some doubt as to that,"