Her Majesty's Ministers meeting Parliament at the opening of their fifth
Session remain happy in the reflection that their position is not
endangered by any mines dug within the limits of their own escarpment.
It is different in the opposite camp. The first thing good Liberals do
as soon as their own party comes into power is to commence a series of
manoeuvres designed to thrust it forth. Sometimes they are called
"caves," occasionally "tearoom cabals." But, as Mr. Gladstone learned in
the 1868-74 Parliament, in that of 1880-85, and, with tragic force, in
the Parliament which made an end of what Mr. Chamberlain called "The
Stop-Gap Government," they all mean the same thing. Lord Rosebery when
he came to the Premiership found the habit was not eradicated.
[Illustration: A CAVE-MAN.]
The condition of men and things in the House of Commons when Parliament
met after the General Election in July, 1895, was rarely favourable to
the formation of "caves" on the Ministerial side. To begin with, the
Government had such an overwhelming majority that the game of playing at
being independent was so safe that its enjoyment was not forbidden to
the most loyal Unionist. Given that condition, there were existent
personal circumstances that supplied abundant material for cave-making.
The necessity imposed on Lord Salisbury of finding place in his
Ministry for gentlemen outside the Conservative camp made it impossible
not only to satisfy reasonable aspirations on the part of new men of his
own party, but even to reinstate some ex-Ministers. Some, like Baron de
Worms, were shelved with a peerage. Others, overlooked, were left to
find places on back benches above or below the gangway. Of men who held
office in Lord Salisbury's former Administration, Mr. Jackson, Sir James
Fergusson, Sir W. Hart-Dyke, and Sir E. Ashmead-Bartlett were left out
in the cold. Whilst most of the leading members of the Liberal Unionist
wing, including Mr. Jesse Collings and Mr. Powell Williams, were
provided with office, Mr. Courtney's claims were ignored, and Sir John
Lubbock's were probably never considered.
[Illustration: SHELVED WITH A PEERAGE. (BARON DE WORMS.)]
[Illustration: "WHO KNEW NOT JEMMY."]