A SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK N 0 one who knew Oliver Stanley could
hear of his death without very real grief. Few men in public life can have made fewer enemies—if indeed, he had a single enemy in the world. The wittiest speaker, without exception, in the House of Commons, he could direct at a Minister or member opposite a barb-that delighted both sides of the House, and never left a wound. - Take one : "It is hard on the hon. member that when for once he decided to toe the party line he found the party line had changed " ; or, at the beginning of the last Parliament, on the continuity of foreign policy as exemplified by Mr. Bevin's administration of the Foreign Office, "One might almost suppose that the right hon. gentleman had been attending- a revival of that fine old play, 'The Importance of Being Anthony.'" But it was not Oliver Stanley's wit but his charm and conspicuous kindliness— associated, it must be added, with very considerable ability—which endeared him, most of all to his colleagues on the Front Opposition BeriGh, but in lesser degree to everyone who came in contact with him. It had been known for weeks that his death was near, but that does not diminish the universal sadness it must cause,
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