EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M. P.
House of Commons, Tuesday, Jan. 31st.—Back again in old place, with Speaker in Chair, Mace on table, and Serjeant-at-Arms on guard. Nothing changed except the Government. Some old familiar faces gone; others replace them. Same old bustle, hearty greeting, and effusive hand-shaking.
"There's only one thing," says Erskine, of Cardross, "that equals the hilarity of the opening of a New Session, and that is the joy with which the boys go off on the day of Prorogation."
Erskine been in the Chair by the cross-benches some years now. Naturally growing philosophical; insensibly cultivates habit of sententious speech.
"Wonder you can be so garrulous, Toby," he says, "considering the number of Speeches you hear in a Session. We take in eloquence at the pores, and I for one have no tendency toward exudation."
"Ah," I said, "perhaps that's the lack of exercise. Dear old Gosset! he was better off in that respect. Remember how he used to waltz up and down between doorway and table with Bradlaugh? A heavy partner, too, especially taken after dinner. But, on score of health, not by any means an undesirable variation on sedentary life."
"Well, well," said Erskine, whose forbears were out in '45, "we must hope for the best." And the gallant Scot's hand involuntarily sought the hilt of his sword as his keen eye roved over the Clan gathered below the Gangway.
A little odd at first to see Mr. G. on the Bench to the right of Speaker, Prince Arthur facing him on Opposition Bench. They seem to assume altered position quite naturally. Mr. G. looks pretty much as he has done any time these two years back. Eager, straight-backed, bright-eyed, smiling gaily in response to cheer that greets him from at present undivided majority.
"Pretty well, thank you, Toby. Only one thing the matter with me, and that, you know, doesn't mend as the years pass. Looking over McCullagh Torrens' book the other day, I noted what Dizzy said when that genial statesman, the former Member for Finsbury, inquired after the health of Lady Beaconsfield. 'They tell me she is better, but you know what better is at 83.' I'm as well as can be expected going o' 84. I must admit it's pretty well. I'll undertake to walk a mile, run a mile, eat a meal, and make a speech with any fellow ten years my junior."
Certainly no one on Treasury Bench exceeds Mr. G. in vivacity or overflowing energy. Squire of Malwood looks very fit, but there's a massivity about his mirthful mood that becomes a Chancellor of the Exchequer with a contingent surplus. Is much comforted by consciousness that, whilst Sage of Queen Anne's Gate views composition of Ministry with mixed feelings, and will not commit himself to promise of fealty till he is in possession of full details of their policy, he unreservedly approves the Squire.
On other side, Her Majesty's late Ministers in state of almost boisterous hilarity. Evidently inclined to regard deposition as a joke. Prince Arthur beaming with delight. Something curiously like a smile wreathes stolid countenance of Sir James Fergusson.
"It's their turn now," says Prince Arthur, gleefully rubbing his hands, "and I wish them joy of it. As for me, I shall live my Saturday to Monday in peace, and shall go to the Opera every Wednesday night in the Season."
"You can go oftener if you like," said Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett (Knight). "You may depend on my remaining here. I've thought of a good many things to say during the last six years."
"Ha," said Prince Arthur, thoughtfully, "then perhaps I may absent myself through portions of other nights of the week."
Business done.—Address moved.
