towards foreign nations always has been by a singular want of
all generosity, still it must be confessed that their steady and
unwavering adherence to a line of conduct which has made England feared
and her power respected by every country in the world has a certain
element of dignity and manly self-reliance which compels our admiration.
And while they have been of late so frequently outwitted by the
flexible, if not tortuous, policy of Louis Napoleon, it yet remains to
be seen whether the firm and unyielding course of the English Ministry
will not in the end prove quite as successful as the more Machiavellian
management of the French Emperor.

I hardly know how to describe accurately the impression made upon the
mind of an American by his first visit to the House of Lords. What
memories haunt him of the Norman Conquest and the Crusades, of Magna
Charta and the King-Maker, of noblemen who suffered with Charles I. and
supped with Charles II., and of noblemen still later whose family-pride
looked down upon the House of Hanover, and whose banded political power
and freely lavished wealth checked the brilliant career of Napoleon, and
maintained, the supremacy of England on sea and land!

Enter, then, the House of Lords with these stirring memories, and
confess frankly to a feeling of disappointment. Here are seated a few
well-behaved gentlemen of all ages, often carelessly dressed, and almost
invariably in English morning-costume. They are sleepily discussing some
uninteresting question, and you are disposed to retire in view of the
more powerful attractions of Drury Lane or the Haymarket, or the chance
of something better worth hearing in the House of Commons. Take my
advice, and wait until the adjournment. It will not be long, and by
leaving now you may lose an important debate and the sight of some men
whose fame is bounded only by the limits of Christendom. Even now there
is a slight stir in the House. A nobleman has entered whose movements
you will do well to follow. He takes his place just at the left of the
Lord-Chancellor, but remains seated only for a moment. If you are
familiar with the pencil of Punch, you will recognize him at a glance. A
thin, wiry, yet muscular frame, a singularly marked and expressive face
and mobile features, a nose that defies description, a high cravat like
a poultice covered with a black silk bandage, clothes that seem to have
been made for a much larger man, and always a pair of old-fash