EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday, February 29.—Mr. G. looked in to-night from the Riviera; greeted with rousing cheer from Opposition; didn't expect to see him to-day; just arrived from Mediterranean viâ Paris; most men in such circumstances would have gone straight home, read their letters, had quiet dinner, "and so to bed," as the late Mr. PEPYS occasionally remarked.
"That's all very well for you elderly fellows, TOBY," said Mr. G., beaming with health and smiles. "ARMITSTEAD, for example, went straight off home. I was careful to see about that; he's a fine fellow, and I humoured him by letting him suppose he was looking after me as far as Biarritz, and on to Pau. In no other way could I have got him to make a holiday. Think I rather wore him out at St. Raphael. When a man gets over sixty he doesn't care about his ten or fifteen mile walk before luncheon. However, I brought ARMITSTEAD back all right, and, packing him off home at Charing Cross, just popped in here to see how you are getting on."
In respect of business, not getting on at all. Things going awry. Ministerialists won't come up to scratch in Division Lobby; Majority that used to flash forth a hundred-candlelight strong, now flickered down to a score. Opposition growing jubilant and aggressive; Irish Members, long quiescent, waking up as of yore. To-night Prince ARTHUR, stung to quick by remarks from JOHN DILLON, made rattling speech defending his Irish policy; poured contumely and scorn on heads of Irish Members.
"You," he said, with gesture of passionate scorn, "see no source of regeneration for Ireland but in refusal of tenants to pay their rent."
Lord ELCHO and other young bloods on Ministerial Bench cheered; old stagers looked grave.
"Ah, ah!" said CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN, looking on from the Front Opposition Bench, "I spy the beard of the Irish Secretary under the muffler of the Leader of the House."
"Dear me," said ESSLEMONT, who overheard the remark; "I don't remember BALFOUR with a beard when he was at the Irish Office. You're not mixing him up with GRANDOLPH?"
"Get thee to a nunnery, worthy draper," said CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN, "and in that leisurely retirement read your SHAKSPEARE."
"A nunnery!" cried ESSLEMONT, more than ever bewildered; "why they wouldn't let me in. I suppose you mean a monastery; but man and boy for fifty years I've gone to Kirk, and nothing would—" By this time CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN was out of hearing.
Business done.—One Vote in Committee of Supply.
Tuesday.—The MARKISS not in his place in Lords to-night. Looked in at Arlington Street to inquire if absence was due to illness.
"Not at all, TOBY," said the MARKISS who, indeed, looked quite fit. "There was nothing particular on the paper to-night, so I didn't go down. It's necessary for Nephew ARTHUR to be regular in his attendance on the Commons. But in the Lords it's different. A happy fortune places the Leader there in a position that relieves him from strain of unbroken attendance. With STRATHEDEN AND CAMPBELL looking after foreign policy, and DENMAN taking charge of home affairs, my post is really a sinecure. They talk about ending or mending of the House of Lords; but as long as we are blessed with this remarkable combination of legislative and administrative capacity we can laugh at the idle threats."
It was DENMAN who took the floor to-night; moved Second Reading of a Bill, the simple and comprehensive object of which was to repeal Local Government Acts of England and Scotland. These passed only a Session or two ago by continuous united effort of both Houses of Parliament. DENMAN been closely watching them in operation. Finds them disappointing, and so would have them repealed. House fully constituted, with LORD CHANCELLOR on Woolsack, Mace on Table, and quorum present; gravely listens, whilst tall, white-haired, sad-faced man rambles on in plaintive voice, urging proposition which, if carried out, would arrest machinery of Local Government throughout the Kingdom, leaving all to be gone over again. No one smiles, much less winks or wags the head. It is just as solemn and as orderly as if it were the MARKISS himself submitting a Resolution or making a statement. Only, when the plaintive voice ceases and the tall figure is reseated on the Bench, nobody proposes to continue the conversation. LORD CHANCELLOR rapidly gabbles shibboleth in which "content" stumbles over "not content."
"Notcontentshaveit," says LORD CHANCELLOR, by way of last word; leaves Woolsack; the few Peers slowly pass out. It seems the House has adjourned, DENMAN's Motion being negatived without Division, and Local Government in England and Scotland will proceed to-morrow as it has gone on to-day.
Business done.—House of Commons, having agreed to meet at two o'clock to-morrow instead of twelve, makes up for it by getting itself Counted Out at eight o'clock.
Wednesday.—Came across LOCKWOOD this afternoon in remote part of corridor, gesticulating whilst he recited some lines. Fancy he's getting up that lecture on the "Lawyers in Pickwick," announced for delivery in York on the 15th. Most interesting undertaking. As CHARLES RUSSELL says, "Coke-upon-Lyttleton will have to take a back shelf in the Law libraries when Lockwood-upon-Dickens is in circulation."
Wonder how he finds time for these excursions into the bye-paths of literature? Hands full at the Bar; frequent attendant here; and yet he has time to discover Pickwick! He tells me great secret of capability for this kind of work is plain living and regular habits.
"A chop or steak at eight o'clock with a potato (boiled in its jacket) and a tumbler of toast-and-water; that's my regular dinner; leaves me clear-headed and free for a couple of hours' work at my briefs before I go to bed. Except when kept down at House, rarely out of bed after eleven. Up at five; cold bath; dry toast; hot milk; another grind at my briefs; ride down to Court; at it all day, with intervals for Abernethy biscuit when Court adjourns; and so the mill goes round."
"Don't you think," said BOB REID, "it's a little unprofessional of LOCKWOOD going into this Pickwick business? The cases were never, that I know of, reported in the Law Journal. Good fellow LOCKWOOD, but a little apt to stray outside the ropes. Now he's started lecturing, there's no knowing how far he'll go. We may see him on the stage bowling BEERBOHM TREE out as Hamlet, or even with his face corked, dancing a breakdown at St. James's Hall. What does he want to go a-lecturing for? Do you think he'll draw?"
"Draw!" I cried. "Why, he's always drawing; he's drawn for Punch." That shut up Master BOB. When you want to hear disparaging remarks about a man, nothing like going to his bosom friend. Business done.—Irish.
Thursday.—Mr. G. in fine form to-night; delivered two speeches, each in highest form of Parliamentary Debate. Infinite variety in manner. Before dinner, Prince ARTHUR moved to take Morning Sittings on Tuesdays and Fridays for rest of Session. That means virtual appropriation on very threshold of Session of time belonging to private Members. They furious; Mr. G. in benignest mood; shocked, he must confess, at Prince ARTHUR's unparalleled greed; but not disposed to turn a deaf ear to his importunity. "If you'd make it Easter, now," he said, with winning voice and manner, "limit the scope of resolution to that date, I'm not sure that I should feel disposed to say you nay."
Prince ARTHUR jumped at proposal. Sufficient unto Easter are the Morning Sittings thereof. If he wanted more he could ask again. Meanwhile he was in possession of what he wanted.
House looked on in amazement at this little scene. Opposition expected Mr. G. would have thundered forth denunciations of Prince ARTHUR's audacity. Here he was making terms with the enemy; doing it all, too, with imposingly judicial manner that was irresistible. Before House quite knew where it was, everything was settled.
"'Now I'm furnished, Now I'm furnished, for my flight'—of oratory."
It was BLUNDELL MAPLE chanting this line, sung in another place by Hecate. Flight didn't amount to more than asking question as to whether audiences at unlicensed places of entertainment (in neighbourhood of Tottenham Court Road or elsewhere) open for Radical or Liberal entertainments, are duly protected from fire? Members went off to dinner, pondering on this conundrum. Came back to find Mr. G. on his legs again, denouncing proposition to vote £20,000 for survey of railway from Mombasa to Nyanza. A splendid piece of invective; almost literally shrivelled up poor JOKIM, at whom some of the scorching flame was pointed with outstretched forefinger. For more than half an hour, at period of night when most gentlemen of his years are snugly tucked up in bed, Mr. G. held the audience entranced, thunderous cheers rolling forth in rapid succession from Liberal ranks, now and then answered by low growl from Ministerialists.
"What a man it is!" cried KENRICK, looking on with monumental suavity; "almost sorry he left us. Sometimes, at his best, he equals our JOE." Business done.—A couple of Votes in Supply.
Friday.—BRYCE at last got access to mountains in Scotland.
Been wandering round foot of them through many Sessions, and several Parliaments. Always something happened to prevent his reaching the top. Don't believe he'd have got there to-night, only for FARQUHARSON.
When F. came forward to second Motion, incidentally observing, "I'm the proprietor of a mountain myself," we felt something must be done, and BRYCE's Motion was agreed to.
FARQUHARSON, for rest of evening, object of respectful regard. Some inquiry as to where he kept his mountain. Did he bring it to Town with him when he came up for the Session? And, when at home, was he in habit of leaving it out all night?
"Don't happen to have it about you, I suppose?" WILFRID LAWSON asked, eyeing his trousers' pockets.
FARQUHARSON very reticent on subject. Rumour, just before House adjourned, that his mountain is one of those situated in the Moon—but this only envy.
Business done.—Access secured to FARQUHARSON's mountain and others in Scotland.
STRANGE CHARGE AGAINST A GREAT POET.—Lord TENNYSON's Robin Hood is to be produced at DALY's, New York, and simultaneously, to secure copyright, by one performance only, at the Lyceum. We never thought TENNYSON a plagiarist before this, but here is proof positive he's at it now,—Lord TENNYSON's robbing Hood!!
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