Tuesday, April 27th.—On the report of the Budget resolutions there was, of course, the usual attempt to get rid of the tea-duty. As Colonel Ward sarcastically pointed out, opposition to this particular impost has been for years the "by-election stunt" of every party in turn. To-day the rejection was moved by the Labour Party, and when the Chancellor of the Exchequer asked if in exchange they were prepared to extend the income-tax downwards Mr. J. H. Thomas boldly declared that for his part he was quite ready. But as it appeared that his idea of the exemption-limit was £325 a year Mr. Chamberlain thanked him for nothing.

Among the varied and ingenious arguments adduced by Colonel Guinness against the increased tax on sparkling wines the one that he evidently thought most likely to soften the heart of the Chancellor was that it would reduce consumption, since at current prices it would be an offence against good taste for anyone in this country to be seen drinking champagne. But Mr. Chamberlain could not agree. In his view the larger the taxation on the bottle the greater the patriotism of the consumer.

In advocating a slight relaxation of the cigar-duty Mr. Hurd quoted Mr. Bonar Law for the dictum that the excellence of a dinner largely depended upon the quality of the cigar that followed it, and went on to remark that he did not on this matter expect the support of the Labour Party. Mr. Jack Jones stentoriously resented this slur upon their taste. "We like a good cigar as well as anybody," he shouted, adding somewhat superfluously, "Who has a better right to a good dinner?" This outburst may have shaken the Chancellor's conviction that Havana cigars are indubitably of the nature of luxuries.

Wednesday, April 28th.—According to the Duke of Rutland, who made an eloquent plea for the better protection of wild birds, their worst enemy is the village schoolmaster, whose motto seems to be, "It's a fine day; let us go out and collect something." I cannot help thinking that his Grace must have some special dominie in his mind and was arguing from the particular to the general.

The story of Lady Astor's seat is beginning to resemble a penny novelette. Evicted by the bold bad Baronet below the Gangway the heroine has been enabled by the courtesy of one of Nature's noblemen, in the person of Mr. Will Thorne, to find a new home in the precincts of the Labour Party, and seems quite happy again.

Since the American Senate takes so kindly an interest in our affairs as to pass resolutions in favour of Irish independence, Mr. Ronald McNeill thought it would be only friendly if the House of Commons were to reciprocate with a motion in support of the Filipinos' claim to self-determination. Mr. Bonar Law fought shy of the suggestion and preferred Sir Edward Carson's idea that it was better for each country to leave other countries alone. "I would be very thankful," he added rather wistfully, "if Ireland would leave us alone." But his appeal fell on deaf ears, for, at the instance of Mr. T. P. O'Connor, the House spent most of the evening in discussing the threat of the Irish dock-labourers in Liverpool to paralyse the trade of the port unless the Government released the hunger-strikers at Wormwood Scrubs.

Thursday, April 29th.—Mr. Winston Churchill gave an account of the Easter riots in Jerusalem, where Jews and Moslems have been breaking one another's heads to the glory of God, for all the world like Irishmen in Belfast. He also promised to give further information as soon as Lord Allenby's report should be received. Lord Robert Cecil, who has lately developed an unlawyer-like tendency to jump to conclusions ahead of the facts, made what sounded distinctly like a suggestion that the British officers on the spot had been remiss in their duty, and thereby earned from Mr. Churchill a dignified castigation which pleased the House.

Crowned with olive-branches plucked from San Remo the Prime Minister celebrated one of his now familiar peace-triumphs. Everybody knows the procedure on these occasions—the crowded House, the cheers raised by the faithful Coalitionists as the victor is seen making his way to the Table, and then the speech, so unvarying in its construction that I fancy there must be a sealed pattern for it in the archives of No. 10, Downing Street. First comes a recital of the immense difficulties of the problems to be solved—in this case including a really serious difference of opinion with our good friends the French; then a little comic relief at the expense of his arch-critic in the Press, who on this occasion had surpassed himself in "simian clatter"; next a summary of the wonderful results achieved—chiefly the establishment of direct relations with the hitherto boycotted Governments of Russia and Germany; and lastly a declaration that all differences and difficulties had melted away, and that henceforward the Allies would be a band of brothers.

Once more Mr. Asquith disappointed his more impetuous supporters and displayed his statesmanship by a speech in which he practically said ditto to the Prime Minister; the only suspicion of a sting being contained in his suggestion that the Supreme Council had now outlived its usefulness and should promptly be replaced by the League of Nations.

Mr. Bottomley, on the contrary, was all sting and no statesmanship. I gather that he has been conducting an unofficial conference on his own, and as the result of his conversations with distinguished but anonymous foreign statesmen has arrived at quite different conclusions from those of the Prime Minister. The fact that he was kept waiting on the pier at Boulogne while the British Delegation went off in a special steamer, on which he was not invited to embark, may have imparted an extra spice of rancour to his strictures.