Accordingly, to-day, meeting in the freshness and vigour of new week, House takes up a local Bill dealing with pilotage in Bristol Channel.  Two or three Members talk about it for hour and a half.  House neither knowing nor caring anything on subject, empties; Division bell sounds through all the rooms and corridors.  How is a man to vote when the question abruptly submitted is, “That the Pilotage Provisional Orders No. 1 Bill be now read a Second Time?” Still, it’s as well to vote, as it runs up average attendance on Divisions, at which at election times constituents sometimes glance.  Fortunately, in this case, MICHAEL BEACH, as one of Members for Bristol, took part in Debate and Division.  As useful this as sign-post to belated traveller at four cross-roads.  Conservatives and Liberals crowded at Bar keep their eye on President of Board of Trade, watching which way he would go.  He led the way into the “Aye” lobby.  Thither followed him all the Conservatives, all the Liberals trooping into the “No” lobby.  When Noses were counted, it was found that 165 voted “Aye,” 119 “No.”  And thus it came to pass that the Pilotage Provisional Order No. 1 Bill was read a Second Time.

One gathered from chance expressions, and especially from the interest taken in the affair by Members for City of Bristol, that Bristol had special interest in the Bill.  In addition to MICHAEL BEACH’S support, WESTON on Liberal side, HILL on Conservative Benches, supported Second Reading.  Sinking political differences, Member for East Bristol, and Member for South Bristol, agreed upon plan of campaign.

“You, WESTON,” said Colonel HILL who, having obtained his military rank in the peaceful pursuits of commercial shipping, is a master of strategy, “speak so low that they can’t hear a word you say, whilst I, concealing a miniature speaking-trumpet in my mouth, will roar at them as if a stout North-Easter were blowing through the lanyards of our first battalion, deployed in open order.”

Tactics succeeded admirably.  Sir JOSEPH WESTON, a mild, aldermanic person, presented himself from quarter behind Front Opposition Bench, and, to all appearances, delivered an admirable address.  His lips moved, his right hand marked the rhythm of his ordered speech; now his eyes flashed in reprobation, and anon smiled approval.  But not a sound, save a soft murmur, as of distant dripping waterfall, was heard. L’Enfant Prodigue wasn’t in it for successful pantomime.

When the movement stopped, and the Alderman was discovered to be sitting down, the martial-nautical HILL sprang up from Bench on other side, and the stillness was broken by a rasping voice, that woke DICKY TEMPLE out of his early slumber.  The strategy, cleverly conceived, was admirably carried out, and Bristol, thanks to diversified talent of its Members, got its Bill.  Only it seemed a pity that an hour and a half of precious public time should incidentally have been appropriated.