ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday Night, March 27.—The Lowther Arcade not getting on so well as thought when projected. The Master Builder been diligently at work, but result disappointing. On Friday he got terribly snubbed by Speaker. Comes up to-day to make personal explanation. That a bait at which House usually jumps; always ready to be amused, or interested with scandal about Queen Elizabeth and other persons. These things usually promised by personal explanation. To-day no flutter of excitement moved crowded House. Jemmy, approaching table with most judicial air, received with mocking laughter, and ironical cheers. Some difficulty in quite making out what he was at. Evidently something to do with Squire of Malwood; but Squire so inextricably mixed up with Supplementary Estimates, couldn't make out which was which. James pounded along in most ponderous style; Squire contemptuously replied; no one else inclined to join in conversation, and the Master Builder gloomily resumed his seat.
"Never mind," I said, not liking to see an old friend cast down; "Rome wasn't built in a day, nor the Cave of Adullam excavated in a week. These things grow. You must have patience, and the Lowther Arcade will still flourish. Let me see, whom you have got? There's Bartley, Hanbury, and Tommy Bowles. Lowe, forming his Cave, hadn't so many to start with."
"Yes," said the Master Builder, "that's all very well; but, fact is, you can't reckon upon these fellows as being, so to speak, colonnades in the Arcade. They are all on their own hook; fighting for their own hand; won't take the lead from me; must go foraging for themselves. Hanbury thinks he can boss a show better than most men. Bartley's obstreperous. Tommy Bowles would be all right if he were left to himself, free from the companionship of designing men. He is young, ingenuous, not wholly lost to a sense of regard for his pastors and masters, lack of which is the curse of modern Youth. I believe Tommy respects me, and, only for the evil communications to which he is subject on the back bench, would work loyally with me in establishing the Arcade."
There was unwonted moisture in the Master Builder's eye as he turned round, and regarded the Member for King's Lynn what time he softly whistled to himself the old Jacobite air, "Tommy make Room for your Uncle."
Business done.—Vote of Censure moved by Prince Arthur; Government majority runs up on division to 47; Ministerialists, fresh from meeting at Foreign Office, agree that, on whole, have spent a happy day. Debate spasmodically dull. Prince Arthur could not lift it out of the rut, nor Grandolph either. Only Mr. G. shone with effulgent light through gloom of evening. Principal result of manœuvre, beyond giving fillip to majority, is that a day will be filched from meagre holidays, and House must needs sit on Thursday.
Tuesday.—Mr. G. looked in in time to say a few words in reply to Prince Arthur's inquiries as to business arrangements. Later he came back, and delivered excellent speech; brief, and direct to point. House been talking all morning round Vote on Account. Macfarlane done Rule-of-three sum, to show how twelve hundred days are lost every week by necessity imposed upon Members of coming down two hours in advance to take their seats. Some disposition shown by practical Members to argue question whether there could be twelve hundred days in any week, even in Leap-Year.
"I know I'm right," said Macfarlane, and the sceptics, gazing respectfully at his flowing beard, withdrew from controversy.
House divided on Motion by Legh to reduce Foreign Office Vote. Ministerial majority run up at a jump to 225. Time by Westminster clock, 6.10 P.M.; in twenty minutes, sitting will be suspended; Vote must be through Committee to-day; Tommy Bowles (who hasn't made a speech for a quarter of an hour) on his feet; sheafs of manuscript in his hand; would certainly oblige to extent of twenty minutes; Baron de Worms also has a few remarks to offer; probable length of Channel Tunnel. Mr. G. interposes.
EASTER AT THE ZOO.
"Mr. Mellor," he said, addressing Chairman, "I claim to have the question now put."
Ringing cheers went up from Ministerialists. Tommy resumed his seat; gruefully glanced at notes. The Noble Baron saw in this manœuvre fresh proof that Mr. G. had sold himself to Germany; having completed preparation for separation of the Empire on the side of the Irish Channel, would immediately after, by medium of Watkin's Tunnel, place what was left of the country at the mercy of a foreign foe. Meanwhile Closure moved; what's more, carried on division by swingeing majority of over a hundred. So Vote agreed to; Mr. G. gets off for short drive before dressing for dinner.
Earned a night's rest, and a longer Easter holiday than he has allotted to himself and us. Older he gets, the younger he seems. His work to-day should make the eight-hours' man blush. At bay in Downing Street since twelve o'clock with two hostile deputations. Came from Ulster and the City, resolved to beard Home-Rule Lion in his den. Alone he met them; one down, the other come on; no interval of rest; picked men from Ulster, Selected Captains from the City, surged around table at which he sat. Hardly left him time to reply. Having politely conducted Ulster to door, enter the City Fathers, fresh and eager for fray. Told him over again in varied phrase how he was bringing country to verge of ruin; listened with perfect courtesy, as if they'd been discussing someone else—say, his next-door neighbour, Squire of Malwood and Junior Lord of Downing Street. Up again when last in list of City speakers had concluded. Almost persuaded John Lubbock to be a Home-Ruler; then down to House, dealing with mass of correspondence littering his table in room behind Speaker's chair; alert on sound of division-bell; comes in to move Closure; remembers that in long list of speeches never made this particular one before; looks up Palgrave's Handbook; cons his lesson and declaims brief formula in deep rich voice that lends touch of eloquence to its unadorned, remorseless demand. All this, too, following on a day like yesterday, when two other deputations stormed Downing Street; drew from him weighty reply; followed, after hasty dinner, by a speech in the House on the eternal Irish question, which Grandolph rightly termed, "entrancing."
"A Grand Old Man, indeed!" said Prince Arthur, talking over these things to-night, when he should have been listening to Tommy Bowles, who having at the morning sitting had his speech on Vote on Account closured, delivered another at evening sitting on the question of the Depreciation of Silver as it affects domestic architecture in China and Peru.
Portrait of a Member of Parliament examining the Signatures to a Petition against the Local-Veto Bill, to see if they are genuine or not. (Vide Report of the Proceedings in the Commons, March 28, which suggests that they are obtained in Public Houses.)
Business done.—Vote on Account through Committee.
Thursday.—Caine going about House this afternoon, his slim figure bulging out at the pockets in mysterious fashion, "Brought your supper with you?" I asked, lightly touching one of the excrescences that felt like an imperial pint of ginger-beer (White 1880). "You seem bursting with broiled bones. All no use. No more all-night sittings this side of Easter."
"No, my boy, you're wrong," said Caine. "Fact is, I'm going off to the country, and these protuberances you observe about my person are phonograms. All labelled, you see," he said, taking out cylinders from several pockets. "Here are a few remarks on Registration; that's my Local-Veto Speech; and here is an entirely new view of the Home-Rule question. If you like to come over to my house at Clapham—close by, you know, busses every ten minutes—you shall have a night's thorough enjoyment. Leave you in the room by yourself with the phonograph. Pop in one of these cylinders; set the phonograph whizzing; and you'll hear me on Local Veto. Take out cylinder, put in another, and you'll know more about Home Rule in five minutes than you ever dreamt. Can only let you have them for to-night. To-morrow they go down to Yorkshire, and thro' Easter Recess I shall be delivering, at various places, six speeches every night, I myself comfortably making holiday in Wales." "Thank you," I said; "but, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go home and go to bed." In truth, a little depressed. Here's a nice prospect for the holidays! Bad enough to have Members working off at public meetings speeches that had been closured in Commons. But if every man is, during the recess, to multiply himself by phonography, the last state of this country will be worse than the first.
Business done.—Adjourned for Easter Holidays. Just escaped sitting over Good Friday. Back next Thursday.
THE NEW "FOURTH PARTY."
T. G. B-wl-s. Right Hon. J-m-s L-wth-r. G. C. B-rtl-y. R. W. H-nb-ry.
| Transcriber's Note: Missing or illegible/damaged punctuation has been repaired. |