ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Lords, Monday Night, August 6.—Markiss expected to continue to-night that speech around the Budget he didn't commence on second reading of the Bill. Sat mysteriously quiet on that occasion. Unexpectedly broke out at following sitting, wanting to know what Herschell meant by saying Judicial Committee of Privy Council had arrived at conclusion that Lords had no power to amend a money bill. "Where's your report?" he asked. "Produce it."
The Macgregor proposes to "toss the Caber"—next Session!
Lord Chancellor didn't happen to have it in his waistcoat pocket or secreted in wig. Markiss gave notice that he would to-night formally move for production of report. Flutter of interest in House. Commons flocked in prepared for some fresh "blazing indiscretion." Found the Markiss sitting on woolsack chatting with Lord Chancellor. Held book between them, as young persons about to marry are wont to do when attending morning or evening service. Vague idea that presently they would rise and sing a hymn. Lord Chancellor quite equal to it, being a big gun at the Bar Musical Society and very fond of the Opera. Nothing however came of it, at least, not in that direction. When hour for public business arrived Markiss left woolsack carrying the tune book with him. His motion for report of Judicial Committee stood half way down Orders of the Day. When it was reached Markiss said nothing. Naturally other peers were silent, and whilst commoners accustomed to other ways of transacting business were marvelling as to what had happened, and what would follow, House adjourned, practically for a week.
"Well," said Sark for once nonplussed; "certainly if there is a place in the world where 'e don't know where 'e are, it's the House of Lords. When a peer is expected to speak he sits dumb. When arrangements have been made for a quiet sitting, the Markiss or some other big gun is sure to go off unexpectedly with alarming consequences."
Business done.—Irish Evicted Tenants Bill passed Report Stage in Commons.
Tuesday.—It is the unexpected that happens in the House of Commons. Befel to-night with dramatic suddenness. Third reading of Evicted Tenants Bill moved. At eleven o'clock Joseph resumed his seat with pleased consciousness of having cast some balm, in the shape of vitriol, over Irish Question. House crowded; Devonshire, in depression and dinner dress, looked down from Peers' Gallery. Over the clock sat Sandhurst, presently to move first reading of Bill in House of Lords. Arranged Bill should finally leave Commons to-night. Only one hour in which Prince Arthur might speak, and John Morley reply. Joseph having despatched his final arrow at his old friends the Irish Members, the shaft being barbed with points composing pleasing legend, "Violence, Agitation, Dishonesty," Prince Arthur rose, with evident intent of showing, as has happened several times this Session, how the same sort of thing may be said with better effect in quite another way.
Simultaneously from below gangway uprose the tall figure of John Dillon. Opposition roared with despairing indignation. Everything settled, to last button on the gaiter; Joseph had had his half-hour; Prince Arthur would take his, honourably leaving John Morley his thirty minutes. Then Division called; Bill read third time; sent on to Lords; Commons comfortably home by half-past twelve. And here was John Dillon claiming the right to reply to attacks and inuendos of the genial Joseph!
Tumult rose; Dillon folded his arms and faced it. A bad sign that gesture. Remember it in years gone by, when all things were topsy-turvey; when Forster was Chief Secretary, and, next to Parnell, the hope of the Irish Members fighting for Home Rule was Joseph Chamberlain.
Dillon in that attitude evidently immoveable; various suggestions offered. Evade the Twelve o'Clock Rule, and sit till all was over; adjourn the Debate. Finally agreed that Debate should be adjourned till to-morrow—to-morrow, the day on which, at end of last real fight of Session, most Members were off on the delayed holiday.
Out of this dilemma Prince Arthur delivered a grateful House. Had prepared his speech through long sitting; doubtless had many bright things to say; but what was one speech among so many? Perish his speech, rather than the whole arrangements of Parliamentary week be upset. So gracefully stood aside; Dillon took his half hour; John Morley followed in vigorous fighting form, marking fresh step in steady improvement as Parliamentary debater; and before midnight all was over.
Business done.—Evicted Tenants Bill read third time by 199 votes against 167.
Wednesday.—M. de Londres—the Hangman, as blunt Britons put it—called to-day. House engaged on Committee of Equalisation of Rates Bill; seat found for Monsieur under Gallery, where private secretaries of ministers and heads of public offices sit when Bills affecting their departments are under discussion.
"Monsieur has something to do with the Home Office, n'est ce pas?" I asked Sark. "Looked in, I suppose, to help Asquith?"
"No," said the Member for Sark. "It's not that. He's heard House intends to suspend the Standing Orders. Wants to see how we go to work. Not above taking a wrinkle even from amateurs."
"Ah," said W. P. Jackson, throwing up his hands with gesture of despair. "Knew it would come to this under present Government. First the guillotine, then the gallows."
Business done.—Quite a lot.
Thursday.—Southerners long heard of pleasurable hours spent in Committee-room upstairs, where Scotch Members been engaged for weeks in Grand Committee on their Local Government Bill. Such badinage! such persiflage! not omitting refreshing influences of another kind familiar in Noctes Ambrosianæ. 'Tis said, when conversation flagged quite usual thing for J. B. Balfour and Charles Pearson to strip off coats and waistcoats, place two umbrellas crosswise on floor, and go through sword-dance, Trevelyan in the chair leading off colourable imitation of bagpipe accompaniment, in which Committee joined in mad chorus.
Not sure about that. Absolutely no doubt that on last day of meeting all the members stood on chairs, with one foot on the table, and, holding hands, sang "Auld Lang Syne." Bound to say they seem to have exhausted all their hilarity in Committee-room. Parker Smith still a good deal to say; Hozier not uncommunicative; and Walter M'Laren enjoys keen satisfaction of insisting on Division that presents smallest minority of the series. But, on the whole, House seems filled with what Sark tell me Edinburgh, occasionally suffering from the visitation, calls "an easterly haar."
Through the cold, wet, white fog, comes one gleam of light. John Morley brings in a Bill making further provision with respect to Irish Congested Districts Board. Speaker puts customary question, "Who is prepared to bring in this Bill?" "Mr. Arthur Balfour and myself," responds the Chief Secretary; and the House gratefully goes off into a fit of laughter.
"Lovely in life," exclaims David Plunket, looking with almost equal affection on his two right hon. friends, "on the Congested Districts Board (Ireland) Bill they are not divided."
Business done.—Scotch Local Government Bill.
Friday.—Another "Nicht wi' Burns." Sadder even than the last. But sooner over. By eleven o'clock report stage agreed to. "Shall we take third reading now, or would you like a third night with the Bill?" asked Trevelyan.
A shudder ran through the House; when it was over Bill hurried past final stage.
Business done.—Winding-up rapidly.