(Extracted from the diary of Toby, M.P.)
[Illustration: _Lloyd Charon (to Plutocratic Shades)._ "Your fares will
cost you more!"]
_House of Commons, Monday, May 4._--Not since epoch-making night four
years ago has House been so densely crowded in anticipation of Budget
statement. Amongst most honourable traditions of English public life is
absolute secrecy in which Budgets are wrapped till veil is lifted by
Chancellor of Exchequer. Somehow it gets known in advance when a
particular one will prove to be of exceptional public and personal
interest. Thus it was to-night. Hence the crowd that filled every bench
on floor, every nook and cranny of the galleries.
Expectation fully realised. Lloyd George, Atlas in miniature, lightly
bore on his shoulders weight of biggest Budget ever presented to House
of Commons. Total expenditure £210,203,000. Total revenue £210,455,000.
Balance in hand, £252,000.
How _Mr. Micawber's_ heart would have glowed over this realisation in
colossal figures of his cherished principle! You remember his formula to
young _Copperfield_: "Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure
nineteen six; result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual
expenditure twenty pounds ought and six; result misery."
Lloyd George, keeping this axiom steadily in view, after dallying with
income and expenditure counted by the hundred million, came out
triumphant with £252,000 in his pocket.
Spoke for two hours and forty minutes. Avoiding flights of eloquence
that were wont to entrance Gladstone's audience on Budget nights,
resisting temptation to epigram that beset Mr. Chancellor Lowe, was
content with plain business statement. The massive figures dealt with,
the millions lightly scattered there and sedulously picked up here, left
some passages obscure. Son Austen well advised in reserving criticism
till he had opportunity of studying statement set forth in print.
[Illustration: _Mr. Chancellor Micawber._ "Annual income twenty pounds,
annual expenditure nineteen nineteen six; result, happiness."]
A passage in speech followed with breathless interest below Gangway
dealt with increase of super-tax. Chancellor set forth how what he
called a "£3,500 man" would, in addition to ordinary income-tax, pay
1.7d. in the £. Running up the gamut to "a £10,000 man" he mentioned
that the affluent citizen would oblige with an additional 8.9d.
"I can," he blandly added, "go further if anybody specially wants me."
General expression of sympathy with Houston when he asked what the
£100,000 man would be called upon to pay.
"The hon. gentleman," said the Chancellor, with encouraging smile bent
on inquirer, "will be let off with an additional 15.3d."
The Member for the Toxteth division of Liverpool didn't seem so pleased
with this prospect as might have been expected.
_Business done._--Budget brought in.
_Tuesday._--Lord "Bob" Cecil, whose industry is equalled only by his
ingenuousness, posed the Premier with awkward question. Wants to know
"whether the Government propose to continue Sir Nevil Macready's
appointment as resident magistrate; if so, whether he will be able in
that capacity, in case of civil disturbance, to call upon himself as a
military officer to give assistance to the civil power?"
Suggests difficulty at first sight appalling. On historic occasion John
Bright found himself in analogous quandary. As he then protested in ear
of sympathising House: "I cannot turn my back upon myself." True that in
the last three years of his political career he achieved the apparently
impossible. But exception does not make a rule.
More exact parallel found in case of eldest of _Dr. Blimber's_ pupils.
_Mr. Toots_, we know, occupied his time at school chiefly in writing
long letters to himself from persons of distinction addressed "P. Toots,
Esq., Brighton, Sussex," which with great care he preserved in his desk.
Thus, in case of emergency, Sir Nevil Macready, Resident Magistrate,
might write to General Sir Nevil Macready in command of troops in
Ireland a note something to this effect:
"Sir,--From information received, I expect Ulster will be in a blaze
before the end of the week. Please hold yourself in readiness to
co-ordinate the action of your troops with that of the Royal Irish
Constabulary.--Your obedient Servant, Nevil Macready, Resident
Magistrate. To Sir Nevil Macready, General in command of troops in
Ireland."
Premier tried to explain away the situation. Remembering recreation of
_Mr. Toots_, it is not really so bad as Lord "Bob's" earnest desire for
preservation of law and order in Ulster leads him to fear.
_Business done._--On motion of Prime Minister new Standing Order dealing
with blocking motions carried _nemine contradicente_.
_House of Lords, Thursday_,--The death of the Duke of Argyll leaves the
House of Lords poorer by withdrawal of a quiet, gracious presence. I
talked with him here a few days before the Easter recess. To-night the
MacCailean Mhor, on his way to his last resting-place in the Highlands,
sleeps amid the stately silence of Westminster Abbey, unawakened by the
noiseless footsteps of the ghosts of great men dead. Thus in Plantagenet
times the coffined body of the wife of Edward I., brought from Lincoln
to Westminster, halted by the way, Charing Cross being the last of the
nine resting-places of her bier.
A happy marriage which brought him into close kinship with the Sovereign
forbade the Duke's taking active part in political life. It gave him
fuller opportunity for dallying with his dearly-loved foster-mother,
Literature. Endowed with the highest honours birth could give or the
Sovereign bestow, he bore them with a modesty that made others
momentarily forget their existence. Circumstances precluding his living
at Inveraray Castle and keeping up its feudal state, it was
characteristic of him that he cheerily homed himself in a cottage some
two miles down the loch-side, originally built for a factor. Little by
little he enlarged the residence till Dalchenna House became a roomy
mansion. Here, in company of a few choice companions, it was his delight
to stay during the autumn months. He kept to his study in the morning,
engaged in literary work or dealing with his vast correspondence. After
luncheon he led his guests forth, usually on foot, to tread the Highland
ways he knew since boyhood, when as Marquis of Lorne he presented the
picture of manly beauty in Highland dress that to-day adorns the hall of
Inveraray Castle.
In later years he built for himself a châlet set amid the pine-trees of
the ancient French forest of Hardelot, within sight and sound and scent
of the sea. Like Dalchenna this began in a small way. Enamoured with the
peace and rest that brooded over the place, he went on year by year
enlarging and embellishing it.
According to long-laid plans he was to have spent the Easter recess in
his French retreat. Almost at the last moment duty called him elsewhere,
and, as was his wont, he uncomplainingly obeyed. But he insisted that
two old friends, whom he had bidden to keep Easter tryst with him,
should not alter their plans. So the châlet, with its dainty
appointments and its domestic establishment after the Duke's own
heart--a French peasant and his wife, who acted as butler and cook--was
placed at their disposal, he bestowing infinite pains upon arrangements
for their comfort whilst under his roof.
[Illustration: "It was hardly a tactful way of trying to convert him to
the movement to place a bomb under his throne at St. Paul's."--_The
Bishop of London in the Debate on Lord Selborne's Bill for Female
Enfranchisement._]
This little episode, the most recent in a busy life, is a typical
instance of his unselfishness and untiring thought for others.
A scholar of wide reading, a man of shrewd judgment, and, as his
government of Canada disclosed, a statesman of high degree, he might
have filled a part in public affairs at least as lofty as that commanded
by his distinguished father. Debarred from such career he was content to
live up to the highest standard of Christian conduct. If a line of
commentary might be added to the inscription on the coffin which
to-morrow journeys northward to lie beside those of the ten Dukes of
Argyll at rest in the burial-place of the Campbells at Kilmun, here it
is written in one of the oldest of Books: "He went about doing good."
_Business done._--Commons resume debate on Budget.
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