So House deprived of its anticipated lark; all the while HANBURY, with hands in pockets, sits staring gloomily forth, rather pitying than resentful. House of course does not know what is in store for it; still this trifling at the very moment when, though all inconspicuously, the Commons have been saved from contumelious outrage, racks the soul that carries with it the momentous secret.
At last HANBURY'S opportunity comes! Rises slowly, solemnly, to full height; in deep base tones, asks permission to make personal statement. House instantly alert, and attentive; baulked of its fun with PATRICK, here is promise of fresh larks. HANBURY, his profound base notes sometimes trembling with emotion, proceeds to unfold his story; reads long letter from Dartmouth; Members, discovering that the portentous business relates to some trumpery correspondence in the newspapers, begin to cough, shuffle their feet, and even cry "Agreed!" HANBURY stops aghast. Can it be possible? When he has been vindicating privileges of Commons, can Members thus lightly treat incident? But he will read them another letter, one he wrote to Lord DARTMOUTH. Anguished roar burst forth from House; louder cries of "Agreed! Agreed!" HANBURY, gasping for breath, looks round from side to side. They cannot understand; will read them another letter; begins; storm increases; HANBURY persists. Surely House will be delighted to hear his final rejoinder to DARTMOUTH? On the contrary, House will have no more; and HANBURY, pained and panting, resumes his seat, and business goes forward as if he had not interposed.
Business done.—A sudden rush. All contentious Bills through final stage.
Saturday.—Session suddenly collapsed. "Like over-ripe tree," says Prince ARTHUR, dropping into poetry, "the fruit has fallen in a night." Benches nearly empty; Votes passing in basketsful; prorogue next week; to-day, practically, last working time. OLD MORALITY just come in, in serge suit; left his straw hat in his room; off shortly on cruise in Pandora; already shipped store of nautical phrases. Putting his open hand to the side of his mouth, he (when GEORGE CAMPBELL was making one of his last speeches), shouted out, "Belay there!" SPEAKER pointed out that this was not Parliamentary phrase. If Right Hon. Gentleman wanted to move the Closure, he should do so in the form provided. OLD MORALITY, standing up, hitching his trousers at the belt, scraping his right foot behind him, and pulling his forelock, retorted—
"I ask your honour's pardon; but these lubbers are so long-winded." "Order! Order!" said SPEAKER.
Said good-bye, wishing him luck on the voyage; at parting pressed on my acceptance a little book; found it a copy of the Golden Treasury Edition of Sir THOMAS BROWN'S Religio Medici; page 167 turned down; passage marked; read these words:—
"Though vicious times invert the opinions of things and set up a new ethics against virtue, yet hold thou fast to OLD MORALITY."
"I will," I said; and pressing his hand sheered off.
Business done.—All.