JOKIM occupying, but not filling, OLD MORALITY’s seat, wanted to talk about various things; but ever the conversation came back to the theme that filled all thoughts.  HARCOURT wanted to know about fixing the day for debate on Manipur; HENRY FOWLER hankered after an understanding about the Factory and Workshops Bill.  Everybody but JEMMY LOWTHER wanted to know about the Education Bill; TIM HEALY was curious to learn what course would be taken with respect to DE COBAIN.  The answer was ever the same.  “The House,” said JOKIM, nervously rubbing his hands, “must await the return of my Right Hon. friend, which we expect will be celebrated on Wednesday.”

“Well,” said HARCOURT, in one of his stage asides, “this is a revelation indeed.  Always thought OLD MORALITY was an easy-going gentleman, deferential in manner, unassertive in action.  It seems he’s a regular tyrant, a sort of unapproachable Padishah.  In his bosom are looked all the secrets of State, all the purposes of the Ministry.  He takes no one into his confidence, but broods over the destinies of the Empire in the haughty solitude of the watch-tower at Walmer.  When he goes away for short holiday, public business entirely dislocated.  No one can say or do anything except hoarsely whisper his name.  JOKIM lives in a state of terror, and even the martial spirit of GEORGE HAMILTON cowers in recollecting his presence.  Only shows how prone humanity is to error.  We and the Public generally have created for ourselves an OLD MORALITY, a genial, beaming, modest, unobtrusive personality, always ready to oblige, desirous of meeting the views of Members in all parts of the House, anxious only to do his duty to his QUEEN and Country.  Whereas it is clear he is a martinet of the severest type, a ruthless tyrant, a man who rules with a rod of iron, and keeps his followers in a condition of abject personal terror.”

Business done.—­Vote on Account taken.  Incidentally, OLD MORALITY’s character brought out in its true light.

Tuesday.—­AMURATH to AMURATH succeeds.  We had a Lord ELCHO, and, thank Heaven! we have one still—­not exactly the same, but curiously reminiscent in voice and gesture.  This succession of son to sire is one of the happiest arrangements of the British Constitution, one most promising for its maintenance and prosperity.  If the House of Lords, peremptorily and selfishly, appropriated our ELCHOS and our GATHORNE HARDYS, turning them into Earl of WEMYSS, and Viscount CRANBROOK, leaving us no substitute or compensation, that long-threatened institution would be finally doomed.  But, by beneficent arrangement, when ELCHO and GATHORNE HARDY fared forth, the one to become Earl of WEMYSS, and the other Lord CRANBROOK, behold! there step into their places other, and younger men, bearing the old name.

[Illustration:  After the Adjournment.]

Thus is the wind tempered to the shorn lamb.  The system works beneficently in two ways.  Like the quality of mercy, it is not strained.  It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.  The House of Lords is strengthened by the new recruits, and we still have our ELCHO to make jokes, and our HARDY to preach sermons.