_House of Commons, Monday, August_ 4.--GEORGE CAMPBELL been with us
many Sessions; heard and seen a good deal of him, but really seems
only now to be coming out. Has taken up the Police Bill, "and I
wish," says HENRY MATTHEWS, _sotto voce_, "the Police would in return
take _him_ up." GEORGE literally overwhelms the place, breaks out
everywhere; began at earliest moment with question of precedence.
Cardinal MANNING been granted precedence on certain Royal Commissions.
"Why should the Cardinal be thus honoured?" GEORGE wants to know.
"There is the Moderator of the Scotch Free Church. Why shouldn't he,
too, have princely rank?"
[Illustration:
The Campbell is speaking, oh dear, oh dear!
The Campbell is speaking, oh dear, oh dear!
And nobody ever cries, "Hear, hear, hear!"
When the Campbell is speaking! Oh dear, oh dear!]
LORD ADVOCATE snubs CAMPBELL, and he momentarily resumes his seat.
Ten minutes later shrill cry of pibroch heard again. Everyone knows
that CAMPBELL is coming, and here he is, tall, gaunt, keen-faced,
shrill-voiced, wanting to know at the top of it which of HER MAJESTY'S
Ministers advises HER MAJESTY on questions of precedence?
"There is," said GORST, reflectively gazing on his manly form, "one
precedence we would all concede to CAMPBELL. We would gladly write on
the bench where he usually sits--
'Not lost, but gone before.'"
[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT OF ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.
On reading the Parliamentary report in Wednesday's _Times_.
"_Mr. W.H. Smith_. I asked my colleagues near me whether they had seen
or read the publication--(Mr. A.C. Swinburne's poem about Russia) and
none of them had."
"And this," exclaimed Algernon Charles Swinburne, the poet, "_this_ is
fame!"]
But which _is_ his seat? Usually the lank form and the shrill voice
simultaneously uprise from the middle of the second Bench behind Mr.
G.; but GEORGE has a little way of pleasantly surprising the House.
Members looking across see this Bench empty. "Ah! ah!" they say to
themselves, "the CAMPBELLS are gone. Now we'll have a few minutes'
peace and get on with business." Suddenly, _à propos_ of anything that
may be going on, or of nothing at all, the unmistakeable voice breaks
on the ear from under the shadow of the Gallery, from the corner of
the Bench, sometimes from below the Gangway, and a deep low groan
makes answer. Again a little while and this seat is vacated; the
Minister in charge of Bill, looking hastily round, flatters himself
that CAMPBELL really has gone, when lo! from some other remote and
unfrequented spot the terrible cry is uplifted, and, without looking
up, men know CAMPBELL is making his fifteenth speech.
"On the whole," says PLUNKET, "I'm not sure that the habits of POE'S
raven were not less irritating. It is true that on its first arrival
it hopped about the floor, wherein it resembles our honourable friend;
but afterwards, having once perched upon the pallid bust of Pallas, it
was good enough to remain there. Bad enough, I admit; but surely that
situation preferable to ours, not knowing from moment to moment from
what particular quarter CAMPBELL may next present himself."
_Business done._--Police Bill obstructed.
_Tuesday_.--HANBURY came down to-day full of virtuous resolution and
stern resolve. Privileges of House of Commons have been struck at,
and through him; DARTMOUTH, Lord-Lieutenant of Staffordshire, has
been writing things in the papers; rebukes HANBURY, "as a Magistrate
for Staffordshire," for having made certain speech in. Commons
about Grenadier Guards. HANBURY hitherto said nothing in public on
the matter; has been in communication with DARTMOUTH by post and
telegram; has boldly vindicated privileges of Commons; has brought the
insolent Lord Lieutenant to his knees; but till this moment has made
no public reference to the part he played. Has borne, unsoothed by
companionship, the sorrow of the House of Commons.
Now hour has struck; he may come to the front, and, with habitual
modesty of men, indicate rather than describe the imperishable service
he has done the Commons. House, all unconscious of what is in store
for it, wantons at play. Innumerable questions on paper. SUMMERS
coming up fresh with batch of new conundrums. PATRICK O'BRIEN "having
had his attention called" to some verses by SWINBURNE, proposes
to read them. House wickedly delighted at prospect of SWINBURNE
being haltingly declaimed with North Tipperary accent localised by
companionship with the Town Commissioners of Nenagh; SPEAKER thinks
it might be funny, but wouldn't be business; so PATRICK: having begun,
"Night brings but one red star--Tyrannicide," is sternly pulled up.
OLD MORALITY says he's never seen "the publication;" has asked friends
near him, and everyone says he has neither seen, heard, nor read of
it. "The House," says the SPEAKER, by way of crushing ignominy, "has
no control over the poet SWINBURNE."
[Illustration: W.H. SMITH AS "THE ROVER OF THE SEAS."
"ONCE MORE ON BOARD THE LUGGER, AND I AM FREE!"]
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.
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