At Versailles, and then at Paris, the sessions are held in an immense hall capable of seating 2,000 persons, in which the most powerful voice must be strained in order to be heard.

It is not calculated for the moderate tone suitable for the discussion of business; the speaker is obliged to shout, and the strain on the voice communicates itself to the mind; the place itself suggests declamation; and this all the more readily because the assemblage consists of 1,200, that is to say, a crowd, and almost a mob.

'At the present day (1877), in our assemblies of five or six hundred deputies, there are constant interruptions and an incessant buzz; there is nothing so rare as self-control, and the firm resolve to give an hour's attention to a discourse opposed to the opinions of the hearers .-- What can be done here to compel silence and patience?
Arthur Young on different occasions sees "a hundred members on the floor at once," shouting and gesticulating.

"Gentlemen, you are killing me!" says Bailly, one day, sinking with exhaustion.

Another president exclaims in despair, "Two hundred speaking at the same time cannot be heard; will you make it impossible then to restore order in the Assembly ?" The rumbling, discordant din is further increased by the uproar of the galleries.[2101] "In the British Parliament," writes Mallet du Pan, "I saw the galleries cleared in a trice because the Duchess of Gordon happened unintentionally to laugh too loud." Here, the thronging crowd of spectators, stringers, delegates from the Palais-Royal, soldiers disguised as citizens, and prostitutes collected and marshaled, applaud, clap their hands, stamp and hoot, at their pleasure.