In view of his utterances in favor of arbitration and against militarism it was most appropriate that he should deliver the address of welcome at the recent session of the Interparliamentary Union, better known as the peace congress. His speech on that occasion was an epoch-making deliverance. In no uncertain tones he threw the influence of his ministry on the side of peace and opened the door for the adoption of a far-reaching proposition in favor of the submission of all questions to investigation before hostilities are commenced. He used the North Sea incident as an illustration and urged the extension of the powers of the board of inquiry. His now famous exclamation, "The Duma is dead—long live the Duma," illustrates both his moral courage and his devotion to representative government. The sentence was a part of his peace congress speech and was uttered in the presence of the duma representatives who left Russia before the proroguing of that body. It electrified the audience and has been widely commented on throughout Europe.
Few premiers have had so large a majority back of them or possessed so fully the confidence of their supporters, and the program prepared by the ministry is a most comprehensive one. It is too much to expect that the Liberal majority can be maintained on all the questions which will be under discussion, but it is evident that the new government will have a number of important reforms to its credit when it finishes its work.
The president of the House of Lords, the lord chancellor, is one of the most popular of the Liberal leaders. His name is Robert Reed and he is also a Scotchman. He is a rare combination and one of the most lovable of men. There is a striking resemblance between him and the Edinburgh statue of Walter Scott and in his heart there is the democracy of Burns. With high ideals, an eloquent tongue and a disposition which attracts men to him, he is especially fitted for public life, and it is to be regretted that upon retirement from his present position he becomes a judge, for the bench does not afford an equal opportunity with the forum for the molding of public opinion.
SIR HENRY CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN.
The foreign secretary, Sir Edward Grey, is a man who would attract attention anywhere by the strength of his face. He reminded me of the late William Evarts, of New York. He played an important part in the campaign which led up to the Liberal victory and his selection was regarded as a fitting one. His position, however, is not so difficult to fill, because Great Britain's relations with the other powers are quite amicable.
We extended our stay in London in order to hear the minister of war, Mr. Haldane, make his argument in favor of a reduction in the size and cost of the army. By the courtesy of our ambassador, Hon. Whitelaw Reid, I had an excellent seat in the gallery of the House of Commons. The reader may be interested in a brief sketch of this most ancient of parliaments and most powerful of all the factors which enter into the political life of the British Isles. The hall will seat sixty per cent of the members—an astonishing fact to an American who is accustomed to see each of his senators, congressmen and state legislators occupying the seat assigned to him for the session. The members who are present sit on cushioned benches, resembling church pews, and these benches rise one above another on each side of the hall. The Liberals sit on the right of the speaker and the front bench is reserved for the ministry. The Conservatives occupy the benches at the speaker's left, the front bench being reserved for the leaders of the opposition. On the left, but farther from the speaker, are the Irish members and the Labor members. There is a narrow gallery on each side, which is occupied by members when there is a large attendance, and there is a small gallery in the rear for visitors. The ladies' gallery is just over the speaker's desk and is so carefully screened that the occupants of the gallery can not be recognized from the floor. While no one, least of all the ladies, seems to defend this screen, it still remains. Most of the members wear their hats in the hall, but as they have no desks they can not write when a colleague is speaking, although I was told of one member who occasionally occupied his time knitting.
