of the Hon. Member for Preston, in an assembly so little accustomed, as
that so long misnamed the House of Commons, to such an out-and-outer of
the Demos coming between the wind and their nobility--to see whether any
_gaucherie_ of manner would betray an uneasy consciousness of his
not being quite at ease among those scions of aristocracy, who occupy
benches originally intended for the virtual representatives of the
people. Mr. Hunt, on the whole, bore himself well; and, by a total
absence of affectation, of either tone or manner--that surest test of
the gentleman, at least of Nature's forming--disappointed his audience
of their ready smiles at demagogue vulgarity. But once, and that for a
moment, did his self-possession seem to fail him while going through the
ceremonies preceding a new member's taking his seat. After the member
has signed his name and taken the oaths, he is formally introduced by
the Clerk of the House to the Speaker, who usually greets the new
trespasser on his patience by a shake of the hands. This ceremony is in
general performed by the present Speaker with a gloved hand towards
those not particularly distinguished by wealth or pedigree. When the new
member for Preston was introduced to him, he was in the act of taking
snuff, with his glove off. Mr. Hunt made a bow, not remarkable for its
graceful repose, at a distance--apprehensive, as it struck me, that the
acknowledgment would be that of a _noli me tangere_, exclusive. He
was agreeably disappointed: the Speaker gave him his ungloved hand at
once, in a manner almost cordial; and Mr. Hunt took his seat, evidently
pleased by the flattering courteousness of his reception.

I take it that the personal appearance of Mr. Hunt is too well known
to require description. He is, take him altogether, perhaps the finest
looking man in the House of Commons--tall, muscular, with a healthful,
sun-tinged, florid complexion, and a manly Hawthorn deportment--half
yeoman, half gentleman sportsman. To a close observer of the human face