Let degenerate Irishmen, suborned by bargain with a Saxon Government, go forth to save it in the Division Lobby. Sea-green (with envy of John Redmond, whose name will, after all, be imperishably connected with the final success of a National movement inaugurated forty years ago by Isaac Butt) incorruptible, William O'Brien thus protested against a course of events he has been unable to control. To those who remember his fierce eloquence in past years dominating a hostile audience there was something pathetic in the spectacle.
_Business done._--Welsh Church Disestablishment Bill read third time. Sent on to meet predestined fate in Lords.
_Thursday._--Quite lively goings on. House met to open debate on Third Reading of Home Rule Bill, at special desire of Opposition to be extended over three sittings. Campbell had given notice of intention to move rejection. Everything pointed to long dreary evening, the serving-up of that "thrice boiled cole-wort" which Carlyle honestly believed to form the principal dish in the House of Commons shilling dinner.
Expected that Premier would indicate purport and scope of promised Bill amending an Act not yet added to Statute Book. Questioned on subject he announced that Bill will be introduced in the Lords. Judged by ordinary business tactics this seemed a reasonable arrangement. On return from Whitsun holidays the Lords will find Home Rule Bill at their disposal. Do not conceal intention of throwing it out on Second Reading. Whereupon, Parliament Act stepping in, it will be added to Statute Book. Meanwhile Lords, having no other business on hand, might devote their time to consideration of that settlement of Ulster question which all parties speak of as their heart's desire.
House of Commons is, however, above consideration of ordinary business ways. Announcement of Ministerial intention with respect to Amending Bill raised clamour worthy of our best traditions. Poor Campbell getting up to perform appointed task was greeted by his own friends with stormy cries for adjournment. For full five minutes he stood at Table, with nervous fingers rapping a tune on lid of brass-bound box.
"What's he playing, do you think?" Winterton asked Rowland Hunt.