ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
Wednesday, February 7th.—His Majesty opened Parliament to-day for what we all hope will be the Victory Session. But it will not be victory without effort. That was the burden of nearly all the speeches made to-day, from the King's downwards. His Majesty, who had left his crown and robes behind, wore the workmanlike uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet; and the Peers had forgone their scarlet and ermine in favour of khaki and sable. When Lord Stanhope, who moved the Address, ventured, in the course of an oration otherwise sufficiently sedate, to remark that "the great crisis of the War had passed," Lord Curzon was swift to rebuke this deviation into cheerfulness. On the contrary, he declared, we were now approaching "the supreme and terrible climax of the War." He permitted himself, however, to impart one or two comforting items of information with regard to the arming of existing merchant-ships, the construction of new tonnage and the development of inventions for the discovery and deletion of submarines. For excellent reasons, no doubt, it was all a little vague, but in one respect his statement left nothing to be desired in the way of precision. "The present Government, in its seven weeks of office, had taken but two large and one small hotels," and is, I gather, marvelling at its own moderation.
I was a little disappointed with the speeches of the Mover and Seconder of the Address in the Commons, for of recent years there has been a great improvement in this difficult branch of oratory. Sir Hedworth Meux must, I think, have been dazzled by the effulgence of his epaulettes, which were certainly more highly polished than his periods. When in mufti he is much briefer and brighter. As Mr. Asquith however found both speeches "admirable," no more need be said.
The Leader of the Opposition, as one must for convenience style him—though in truth there is no Opposition, in the strict sense of the word—just said what he ought to have said. For one brief moment he seemed to be straying on to dangerous ground, when he put some questions regarding the scope of the coming Imperial Conference; but the rest of his speech was wholly in keeping with the peroration, in which he pleaded that in the prosecution of the Nation's aim there should be "no jarring voices, no party cross-currents, no personal or sectional distractions."
Unfortunately there is a section of the Commons over which he exercises no control. When Mr. Bonar Law, as Leader of the House, rose to reply, the "jarring voices" of Mr. Snowden and others of his kidney were heard in chorus, calling for the Prime Minister. Mr. Law paid no attention to the interruption. He cordially thanked Mr. Asquith for his speech, "the best possible testimony to the unity of this country," and assured him that the Imperial Conference would be primarily concerned with the successful prosecution of the War. The German Emperor had proved himself a great Empire-builder, but it was not his own empire that he was building.
Later on Mr. Pringle reverted to the absence of the Prime Minister, which he, as a person of taste, interpreted as "studied disrespect of the House of Commons." In this view he was supported by Mr. King. Mr. Lloyd George must really be careful.
Strange to say, no public notice was taken of another distinguished absentee—the Member for East Herts. A few days ago, after a violent collision with Mr. Justice Darling, Mr. Pemberton-Billing announced his intention of resigning his seat and submitting himself for re-election. But since then we have been given to understand that a vote of confidence proposed by Pemberton, seconded by Billing, and carried unanimously by the hyphen, had convinced him that, as in the leading case of Mr. Cecil Rhodes, "resignation can wait."
Thursday, February 8th.—When we read day by day long lists of merchant vessels sunk by the enemy submarines two questions occur to most of us. How does the amount of tonnage lost compare with the amount of new tonnage put afloat, and what is the number of submarines that the Navy has accounted for in recent months? Mr. Flavin put the first question to-day, but found Sir Leo Chiozza Money, who usually exudes statistics at every pore, singularly reticent on the subject. All he would say was that a large programme of new construction was in hand.
Private Members blew off a great volume of steam to-day on the proposal of the Government to take the whole time of the House. Scotsmen, Irishmen and an Englishman or two joined in the plea that at least they should be allowed to introduce their various little Bills, even if they did not get any further. Perhaps if a Welshman had joined the band they might have been listened to. As it was, only one of them received any comfort. This was Mr. Swift MacNeill, who was informed that the Bill to deprive the enemy dukes of their British titles, for which he has been clamouring these two years, would shortly be introduced. But for the rest Mr. Bonar Law was not inclined at this crisis in our fate to encourage the raising of questions, most of them acutely controversial, which would distract attention from the War.
On an amendment to the Address Mr. Leslie Scott took up his brief for the British farmer, who, deprived of his skilled men and faced with higher prices for fertilizers and feeding-stuffs, was expected to grow more food without having any certainty that he would be able to dispose of it at a remunerative price. Farming is always a bit of a gamble, but in present conditions it beats the Stock Exchange hollow. Some of the proposals which Mr. Scott outlined to improve the situation would have been denounced as revolutionary three years ago, and were a little too drastic even now for Mr. Prothero. Squeezed between the War Minister and the Food Controller, the Minister Of Agriculture rather resembles the Dormouse in Alice in Wonderland; but he is really quite all right, thank you. Mr. George Lambert thinks that the author of "The Psalms in Human Life" is too saintly to tackle Lords Derby and Devonport, but, if my memory serves me, David—no allusion to the Premier—had a rather pretty gift of invective.
Let no one say that England is not at last awake. Mr. Charles Bathurst to-night made the terrific announcement that in some parts of the country Masters of Hounds are—shooting foxes.
"This brings the War home," said Ferdinand the Fearful when he heard the news.
Jones (to cloak-room attendant). "How much?"
Cloak-room Attendant. "There is no verbal charge, Sir."
"It was agreed to express satisfaction with the announcement that the price fixed for the potato crop of 1917 was not a miximum price."—Scots Paper.
This must be the happy mean of which we hear so much.