off by train last night; promised
to be back on Thursday. We'll see. When he made that arrangement he
thought Scotch Bill would be through to-night; but it won't. Will
certainly go over to Thursday. So Master MARJORIBANKS will find
himself caught when he comes back. Meanwhile he's escaped to-day and
some hours of last night, which is something. As for me, I've stuck
to my post, and will very probably die at it. Go in and listen to
SINCLAIR, dear boy, following CALDWELL, succeeded by ESSLEMONT. with
CLARK in reserve. I think you'll enjoy yourself."

So I did; thoroughly pleasant afternoon from two o'clock to seven.
LORD-ADVOCATE visibly growing leaner in body, greyer in face.
CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN's usually genial temperament souring, as will
be observed from remarks quoted above. J.B. BALFOUR looking in from
Edinburgh professes thoroughly to enjoy the business. But then
he's fresh to it. Pretty large attendance of Members, but reserve
themselves solely for Division. When bell rings three hundred odd come
trooping in to follow the Whips into either lobby; then troop forth
again. Long JOHN O'CONNOR beams genially down on scene.

"Glad you're having this for a change," he says. "You grumble when
we Irish take the floor. Now the Scotch will oblige. Hope you'll like
Caledonian and CALDWELL better than Home Rule and Erin G. O'BRIEN."

"Yes, I do," I boldly answered. Only distraught between conflicting
charms of CALDWELL and SINCLAIR. There is a cold massivity about
SINCLAIR, a pointedness of profile, when he declares "the Nose have
it." But there is a loftiness about CALDWELL's tone, a subdued fire in
his manner when he is discussing the difference between a rate of ten
shillings and one of twelve, a withering indignation for all that is
false or truculent (in short, anything connected with the office of
Lord-Advocate) that strangely moves the listener. The very mystery
of his ordinary bearing weaves a spell of enchantment around him.
For days and weeks he will sit silent, watchful, with his eye on the
paralysed Scotch Law Officers. Then, suddenly, as in this debate
on the Equivalent Grant, he comes to the front, and pours forth an
apparently inexhaustible flood of argumentative oratory, delivered
with exhilarating animation. "Give me Peebles for pleasure," said
the loyal Lowlander home from a fortnight's jaunt in Paris. "Give me
CALDWELL for persuasive argument," says PLUNKET, himself a born orator
who has missed scarcely f