The debate of Monday was chiefly noticeable for a curious
outburst of temper on the part of Sir William Harcourt, who was in his most pedagogic vein. Wednesday's debate, however, was marked by an extraordinarily clear and forcible speech from Mr. Chamberlain,—a speech which showed that he at any rate did not suffer from the obliquity of intellectual vision which affected most of the House of Commons. He could not have put the technical arguments better if he had been a trained lawyer ; while as regards the wider aspects of the case he was no less happy. His main contention was :—Let us first find out the exact legal position, and then, having reached sure ground, let us argue out the question of expediency. Mr. Chamberlain expressed his personal belief that the House would not allow men to occupy the optional position in which Lord Selborne claims to stand. " But," he went on, " do not let our feelings on that point prejudice our judgment on a question of fact. Let us first decide whether a Member is in this position or not." The House, however, was in no mood to listen to reason. It was in a perfect frenzy of angry suspicion, and like nothing so much as the servants' hall, surprised by a proposal of some of the up- stairs folk to pass their evenings in the kitchen. The "impudent thing, what does he want to come poking his nose in here when he belongs somewhere else ?" That was the temper of the Commons, and it was expressed in a speech from Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, who displayed a curious want of ability to grasp the subject of discussion and a certain acid wrong-headedness which was positively bewildering. No doubt the whole thing is a farce, but the farce consists in the House of Commons addressing themselves to the discussion of a not very im- portant, but strictly legal, point, in the spirit in which a set of rooks mob a bird which has lost its tail-feathers, or which from some other cause they consider has no right to remain in their community.
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