ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
Monday, July 5th.—When the Germans left Peking after the Boxer Rebellion they took with them the astronomical instruments which had hung for centuries on its walls. How the Celestial equivalent of Old Moore has managed to translate the message of the stars without their assistance I cannot imagine; but the Chinese Government does not appear to be worrying, for, though it was specifically provided at Versailles that the instruments should be returned, China has omitted to sign the Peace Treaty.
"A GENEROUS TEAPOT."
Colonel Wedgwood.
There are the makings of a great statesman in Sir John Rees. Some apprehension having been expressed lest France should prohibit the importation of silk mourning crêpe and so injure an old British industry, he was quick to suggest a remedy. "Would it not be possible," he asked in his most insinuating tones, "to have a deal between silk and champagne?" And the House, which is not yet entirely composed of "Pussyfeet," gave him an approving cheer.
A certain General Golovin having published statements reflecting on Mr. Churchill's conduct of the campaign in North Russia last year, that section of the House which is always ready to take the word of any foreigner as against that of any Englishman, particularly of any English Minister, at once assumed that the charges were correct. The Secretary of State for War was in his place, with the light of battle in his eye, ready to meet his enemies in the gate. But by the time Mr. Bonar Law had done with them there was not much left of the charges. So far as the statements were true, he said, they merely repeated what was already familiar to the House. Everybody knew that the Government was helping the anti-Bolshevik forces last year. But the story that Mr. Churchill had taken his orders from Admiral Koltchak was both untrue and absurd. He had simply carried out the policy of the Government, a policy which, though some hon. Members did not seem to appreciate it, had now been altered.
Committee on the Finance Bill saw the annual assault on the tea duty. "We are going to drop this duty directly we are in a position to do so," said Commander Kenworthy, with his eye on the Treasury Bench. "Who are we?" shouted the Coalitionists; and it presently appeared that "we" did not include Sir Donald Maclean, but did include Colonel Wedgwood, who, as becomes one of his name, was all for a generous tea-pot.
LIEUT.-COMMANDER KENWORTHY GIVES AN INFERIOR IMITATION OF MR. CHARLES CHAPLIN.
Undeterred by his failure over tea, Commander Kenworthy next attacked the duty on films, complaining inter alia, "Mr. Chaplin is taxed twenty pounds for every thousand feet." Mr. Chamberlain defended the tax on general grounds, but wisely avoided Mr. Chaplin's feet, over which it is notoriously easy to trip.
The debate on the beer duty shattered one more illusion. It is an article of faith with the "Wee Frees" that Sir George Younger is the power behind the scenes, and that Mr. Lloyd George is a mere marionette, who only exists to do his bidding. Yet here was the autocrat confessing, quâ brewer, that the latest addition to the beer duty was the biggest surprise of his life.
Tuesday, July 6th.—The Lord Chancellor's request for leave of absence in order that he might attend the Spa Conference was granted. Lord Crewe's remark, that it was "a matter of regret that the Government had to depend upon the noble and learned lord for legal assistance," might perhaps have been less ambiguously worded. At any rate Lord Birkenhead thought it necessary to allay any possible apprehensions by adding that he would be accompanied by the Attorney-General.
The gist of Mr. Churchill's comprehensive reply to allegations of waste at Chilwell was that there were not enough sheds to cover all the stores, and that to build additional accommodation would cost more than it would save. There was a pleasant Hibernian flavour about his admission that the goods, "if they remained in their present condition, would, of course, deteriorate."
Who says that D.O.R.A. has outlived her usefulness? The Home Secretary announced that the sale of chocolates in theatres is still verboten, so the frugal swain, whose "best girl" has a healthy appetite, may breathe again.
Mr. Clynes. "Look here—if the price of ale keeps on going up like this I'll have to speak to Austen Chamberlain about it."
Mr. Clynes, usually so cautious, was in a reckless mood. First he tried to move the adjournment over the Golovin revelations, and was informed by the Speaker that a report of doubtful authenticity, relating to events that happened over a year ago, could hardly be described as either "urgent" or "definite."
Next, on the Finance Bill, he shocked his temperance colleagues by boldly demanding cheaper beer. But, although he received the powerful support of Admiral Sir R. Hall, he failed to soften the heart of the Chancellor, who declared that he must have his increased revenue, and that the beer-drinker must pay his share of it.
Mr. Chamberlain turned a more sympathetic ear to the bark of another sea-dog, Admiral Adair, who sought a reduction of the tax on champagne, and mentioned the horrifying fact that even City Companies were abandoning its consumption. He received the unexpected support of Lieutenant-Commander Kenworthy, who declared that Yorkshire miners always had a bottle after their day's work and denounced an impost that would rob a poor man of his "boy." Eventually the Chancellor agreed to reduce the new ad valorem duty by a third. He might have made the same reduction in the case of cigars but for the declaration of a Labour Member that this was becoming "a rich man's Budget from top to bottom."
Wednesday, July 7th.—Never was Lord Haldane's power of clear thinking employed to better advantage than in his lucid exposition of the Duplicands and Feu-duties (Scotland) Bill. I would not like to assert positively that all the Peers present fully grasped the momentous fact that a duplicand was a "casualty" and might be sometimes twice the feu-duty and sometimes three times that amount; but they understood enough to agree that it was a very fearful wild-fowl and ought to be restrained by law.
After this piquant hors-d'œuvre they settled down to a solid joint of national finance, laid before them by Lord Midleton. I am afraid they would have found it rather indigestible but for the sauce provided by Lord Inchcape, who was positively skittish in his comments upon the extravagance of the Government, and on one occasion even indulged in a pun. In his view the Ministry of Transport was an entirely superfluous creation, solely arising out of the supposed necessity of finding a new job for Sir Eric Geddes. I suppose the Prime Minister said, "Here's a square peg, look you; let us dig a hole round it."
The Lord Chancellor's reply was vigorous but not altogether convincing. His description of the Government as a body of harassed and anxious economists did not altogether tally with his subsequent picture of the Chancellor of the Exchequer "always resisting proposals for expenditure made by his colleagues in the Cabinet." Despite his eloquence the Peers passed Lord Midleton's motion by 95 votes to 23.
The Commons made good progress with the Finance Bill, though there was a good deal of justifiable criticism of its phraseology. The Secretary of the Treasury admitted that there was one clause of which he did not understand a word, but wisely refused to specify it. Colonel Wedgwood advanced the remarkable proposition that "the workers in the long run pay all the taxes," but did not jump at Captain Elliott's suggestion that in that case it would save trouble if the Chancellor were to levy all the taxes on the working classes direct. When asked to extend further relief to charities Mr. Chamberlain sought a definition of "charity." Would it apply, for example, to "the association of a small number of gentlemen in distress obeying the law of self-preservation in the face of world-forces which threaten to sweep them out of existence"? I seem to hear Mr. Wilkins Micawber reply, "The answer is in the affirmative."
Thursday, July 8th.—In the absence of the Lord Chancellor the Gas Regulation Bill was entrusted to the Under-Secretary for Air. The mingling of gas and air has before now been known to produce an explosion, but on this occasion Lord Londonderry so deftly handled his material that not a single Peer objected to the Second Reading.
The proceedings in the Lower House were much more lively. Mr. Stanton threatened that there would be a general strike of Members of Parliament unless their salaries were increased; but Mr. Bonar Law seemed to be more amused than alarmed at the prospect. The Chancellor of the Exchequer was asked point-blank whether he was satisfied with the reduction in the bureaucracy during the last six months, and replied that he was not, and had therefore appointed Committees to investigate the staffs in seven of the Departments. The number is unfortunately suggestive.
"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
And we know what the Carpenter replied.
If an unnecessary amount of heat was engendered by the debate on General Dyer's case the fault must be partly attributed to the Indian Secretary's opening speech. "Come, Montagu, for thou art early up" is a line from one of the most poignant scenes in Shakspeare; but early rising, at Westminster as elsewhere, is not always conducive to good temper.
Members who thought with Sir Edward Carson that General Dyer had not been fairly treated resented Mr. Montagu's insinuation that in that case they were condoning "frightfulness." Mr. Churchill was more judicious, and Mr. Bonar Law did his level best to keep his followers in the Government Lobby. But Sir A. Hunter-Weston's reminder that by the instructions issued by the civil authority to General Dyer he was ordered "to use all force necessary. No gathering of persons nor procession of any sort will be allowed. All gatherings will be fired on," confirmed them in the view that the General was being made a scape-goat. No fewer than 129 voted against the Government, whose majority would have been very minute but for the assistance of its usual foes, the "Wee Frees" and Labourites.
"Keble's own future should be all the more secure in a University in which there is not only complete religious intolerance but complete religious equality."—Local Paper.
Poor old Oxford! Still "the home of lost causes" apparently.
"Few stories of London origin are more familiar than that of the cabby who, regarding his day off as one of his indisputable rights, spent it each week in riding about the City with a fellow cabby in order to keep him company."—Sunday Paper.
That's why they called him a busman and his holiday a busman's holiday.
"Do you remember the sad fate of a certain distinguished hostess who found herself at midnight left with only a few hogs and elderly men to entertain her pretty girl guests, and the sudden epidemic of rents that necessitated a rush to the cloakroom for mending."—Evening Paper.
The ripping property of tusks is well known.
