We hope our readers will not be alarmed at this rather ominous title.

We assure them that we are not about to become political, neither have we the slightest intention of being more prosy than usual--if we can help it.

It has occurred to us that a slight sketch of the general aspect of 'the House,' and the crowds that resort to it on the night of an important debate, would be productive of some amusement: and as we have made some few calls at the aforesaid house in our time--have visited it quite often enough for our purpose, and a great deal too often for our personal peace and comfort--we have determined to attempt the description.

Dismissing from our minds, therefore, all that feeling of awe, which vague ideas of breaches of privilege, Serjeant-at-Arms, heavy denunciations, and still heavier fees, are calculated to awaken, we enter at once into the building, and upon our subject.
Half-past four o'clock--and at five the mover of the Address will be 'on his legs,' as the newspapers announce sometimes by way of novelty, as if speakers were occasionally in the habit of standing on their heads.

The members are pouring in, one after the other, in shoals.