fourteen tables, and all the gold plate was resplendent on the sideboards. After dinner I had some conversation with the President. Our talk turned upon the differences of procedure in the English and French Chambers and on the grouping of parties. He left upon me the impression of being a determined, possibly obstinate, man without the frills and lightness of touch usually characteristic of the French.

The later stages of the Mental Deficiency Bill kept me in the chair for some very late sittings towards the end of the Session. Mr. Josiah Wedgwood was a bitter opponent of the Bill, but he was almost alone in his opposition. He managed, however, to put down a great many amendments and to argue them with wonderful ability and pertinacity and, although unsuccessful in the result, established his position as a very skilful and capable Parliamentarian.

The Session came to an end on the 15th of August and Parliament was prorogued. The autumn holiday had been well earned, for we had been in almost continuous session since February of the preceding year-eighteen months.

One event of interest in which I was personally concerned, besides those already mentioned, was the centenary dinner of Grillion's Club on the 30th of May, over which I was asked to preside. Our Secretary, Lord Sanderson, wrote to me beforehand : "The rule of Grillion's Club is, No Toasts, No Speeches. It was observed at the Jubilee dinner in 1863, and I think everyone would prefer the same course on this occasion. If it were thought right to propose the health of the Club (I believe its motto is Esto Perpetua) I think the toast should be put from the chair without a speech." As matters turned out, however, it was eventually

decided otherwise, and in giving the toast of the Club I was called upon to say a few words, in which I referred to its long past and our warm wishes for its future.

I had also an unusual experience in having my sight tested for colour-blindness at the Imperial College of Science and Technology. I had obtained permission to attend the examination of Captains of the Merchant Service, who were appealing against decisions given against them, on application for the renewal of their certificates, on the ground of their colour-blindness. A mechanical arrangement had been installed in a dark room by which three small lights, white, green and red, could be shown at some little distance, resembling the distant lights of a ship at night. These could be operated so as to vary the colours and to be seen singly or together. Several of the competitors failed to name the correct colours, but on my submitting myself to the test, I found no difficulty and was passed as sound. The late Lord Rayleigh was very fond of applying tests for colour-blindness to his visitors at Terling, but he generally employed either different coloured cards or pieces of worsted, which they were invited to match. He discovered that quite a considerable proportion of his friends were suffering from the defect, but it seemed a doubtful pleasure to give them.

In September I was invited to unveil a memorial bronze medallion in Carlisle Cathedral, placed there in honour of Sir James Graham. It seemed remarkable that although Graham was a Cumberland statesman of great repute in the county and had for many years played a leading part in affairs of State as First Lord of the Admiralty, Home Secretary, and in other posts, no memorial of him had until this time been erected in his native county. It may be that as, during his long

political career, he had belonged to all parties, it did not seem incumbent on any one of them to take the initiative in the matter. However, the omission was now remedied and the medallion in his honour was duly erected and unveiled. Many of his descendants, including his grandson Sir Richard Graham of Netherby and Lady Cynthia, and Lord and Lady Helmsley, were present, and, besides myself, Mr. Henry C. Howard of Greystoke (the chief representative in the county of the old Whig Party), Sir Robert Allison (the late Liberal Member for Carlisle), and Mr. F. Chance (the then Member) made speeches suitable to the occasion.

Another interesting ceremony in which I took a leading part was the opening to the public of Queen Adelaide Hill, recently acquired by the National Trust. This low hill, situated about half-way along the eastern shore of Windermere, commands a splendid view in all directions and more especially towards the northern end of the lake, where there is a fine panorama of some of the chief mountains of the Lake district, such as the Langdale Pikes, Coniston Old Man, Scawfell and High Street. To the south an extensive view is obtained of the lake and its surrounding hills. The place derives its name from the fact that Queen Adelaide, widow of King William IV, once visited it when making a tour of the Lake district. Royal visitors rarely come to the Lakes and the visit of Queen Adelaide had evidently been an important event, commemorated by her name being linked with this lovely spot.

I was invited at a later date to attend the Colchester Oyster Feast given by the Mayor to some 350 guests, who are said on this occasion to have consumed 12,500 oysters, which works out, unless my arithmetic is at fault, at nearly three dozen per head. Speeches occupied

more time than the consumption of oysters, and it fell to my lot to return thanks for the toast of the House of Commons. As the Westminster Gazette, not always a very friendly critic, described my effort as "a valuable and charming speech," I would fain hope that it gave

satisfaction.

On the 12th of December I was a guest at the Cymmrodorion dinner, over which my old friend and former colleague in the House, Lord Pontypridd, presided. In returning thanks for the toast of my health I referred to some of my predecessors who had been Welshmen, and told the company how Queen Elizabeth had written to Speaker Puckerry, a Welshman, instructing him that no laws were to be passed, "there being many more already than can be well executed." I also related the quarrel between the last Welsh Speaker, Sir John Trevor, and Tillotson, the Archbishop of Canterbury of the day, in which the former was reported to have said, "I hate a fanatic in lawn sleeves," and the latter to have replied, " And I a knave in any sleeves."

CHAPTER XXIV

1914

Exclusion of Ulster Debates-Excited Scenes in the Commons-Lord Rayleigh's Portrait-Death of Mr. Joseph Chamberlain-Troubles in Ulster-Buckingham Palace Conference-War Declared-Home Rule Bill passed-Disaster in Campsea Ashe Hospital.

1914

The year 1914, which was destined to witness events of supreme magnitude and importance, began in the domestic circle with an amateur performance of the comedy of "Jack Straw," in which all the members of the family, with the assistance of a few friends in the neighbourhood, took part. My services were also commandeered, and I played the small part of a distinguished foreign ambassador. My daughter-in-law, who before her marriage had achieved some success on the stage, took charge of the performance as stage manager and played the part of the leading lady with much éclat. The squash racquet court made a capital theatre and, as they say of amateur performances, " all went well on the night."

In Ireland there was growing anxiety as to the prospects of preserving peace, which was not diminished when Parliament met on the 10th of February, and the debates on the exclusion of Ulster from the Home Rule Bill were renewed. It was at once evident that although both Sir E. Carson and Mr. Redmond spoke cryptically of the possibility of arrangements, no real progress in that direction had been made. The "clean