The excitement, which leads a noble lord to leap upon the benches and halloo for joy over a Ministerial defeat, is as keen as any which moves the pulses of boyhood in the cricket field or the pulses of manhood in battle or exploration. So the House of Commons is to me as the great theatre of life, and I find unending pleasures in its acts and its actors.

I have seen some pretty stirring scenes, too, in my time. I have been in the House of Commons now for nearly twenty years, and, in that time, I have been present at almost every event of any note, that has animated its precincts and inspired its orators.

I have had my share of all-night sittings; have seen men stand at the bar of the House; have watched the rise and ruin of reputations; have seen Ministry after Ministry reel to its fall.

But I honestly think that I have never seen a more remarkable scene, than the one to which you have referred, and about which you have asked me, as an eye-witness, to give you some few particulars.

I saw Mr. John Drury on the day when he entered the House of Commons, and I remember very well how struck I was by his commanding presence and singularly beautiful face.

I use the word “beautiful” advisedly. It is a word we reserve mostly nowadays for the faces of women; but John Drury’s face impressed me immediately with a sense of its beauty—its strong, calm, honourable beauty.

All I knew of him was, that he came from the colonies; that he was reputed to be wealthy, even very wealthy; and that he had come into the House of Commons at a by-election, as the advocate of views, which he had championed with great success in the columns of the London daily paper, The Planet, which he himself owned and had founded.

That was all I knew then. There was, however, much more to know, and I learned it later in a sufficiently remarkable manner.

It was a winter session, I remember. Fond as I am of the House of Commons I have no great passion for winter sessions.

My affection for the House is a legitimate, not an abnormal affection, and I like it to pursue its orderly course.