Business done.—All.
Thursday.—Parliament prorogued. World must go round as best it may till February next.
ROUNDABOUT READINGS.
In the London correspondence of a provincial paper it is stated that "Lord Hothfield, who recently gave up the errors and heresies of Liberalism to seek security in Conservatism, has been elected a member of the Carlton. His characteristic exclamation on entering the club the first time after his election was, 'Thank God, I can now have a quiet game of whist,' meaning I suppose, that his mind was now at rest." This explanation of Lord Hothfield's meaning does credit to the ingenuity of the correspondent. It is a sublime spectacle, that of a Radical peer forswearing his errors merely that he may have a quiet game of whist at the Carlton. Such a coruscating specimen of the wit and wisdom of our hereditary peerage should go far to reconcile even Mr. Labouchere to the existence of the House of Lords.
Confusion on your programmes, your turbulence, your din:
Your tattered mob of Radicals, how blind they are and lame.
Lord Hothfield proudly leaves your ranks, the Carlton takes him in;
Behold him in the whist-saloon enjoying of his game.