General excellence of performance greatly assisted by Duke of Teck enthusiastically beating time with his dexter band. Such auxiliary conducting must be of unspeakable service to Signor Mancinelli.

Tuesday Night.—Orfeo, with Giulia Ravogli charming as ever in her representation of "Orpheus with his loot,"—his "loot" being Eurydice, who had become the private property of that infernal monarch Pluto. Welcome to Mlle. Bauermeister as the Meister of Cupid's Bower, Cupid himself. Cavalleria Rusticana to follow, with Madame Calvé's grand impersonation of the simple and sad Santuzza. Notably good is Vignas as the Rustic Swell, with the comic-chorus name of Turiddu. Beautiful intermezzo heartily encored. The thanks of Signors Bevignani and Mancinelli again due to the dexterous assistance rendered to them by the Duke of Teck, who is evidently well up in the Teck-nique of the musical craft. Crowded House. Forecast of season, full of promise and performance.

Thursday.—Carmen. Always "good Bizet-ness." But on this occasion Madame Calvé being indisposed, Mlle. Sigrid Arnoldson appears as heroine. A most captivating Carmen, but so deftly does she dissemble her wickedness that the audience do not realise how heartless is this artful little cigarette-maker. Mons. Alvarez a fine Don José. The premières danseuses lively and picturesque in Act II., with dresses long and dance short; but in Last Act, when reverse of this is the case, a pretty general feeling that skirts might have been longer, and dance shorter. Chorus and Orchestra all that could be desired; absence of the musical Duke much regretted.

Friday.—First, Gounod's charming burletta of Philemon et Baucis. Mlle. Sigrid Arnoldson charming and childlike as Baucis—evidently the classic original of Bo-peep—and Mons. Plançon excellent as Jupiter Amans. At first afraid lest crowded house had expended all its enthusiasm before quarter past ten, when the event of the evening was to come off. "Not a bit of it," says Sir Druriolanus, who knows his operatic public; "they've just warmed up for Leoncavallo's Pagliacci. Leoncavallo," he continues, "is the composer for my money; and my advice is, Lay-on-cavallo's Pagliacci." So saying, the Musical Manager lightly touches his nasal organ with the index finger of his right hand, and, at the same time "winking the other eye," he marches in a procession of one down the lobby and disappears.

Great as is the success to-night of new Opera, I feel sure that Cavalleria, with its simple story, and its marvellous intermezzo, is still at the head of the poll. Yet is Pagliacci melodious and dramatic. Madame Melba at her best in Nedda, and the dramatic power, specially of Signor de Lucia as Canio and of Mons. Ancona as Tonio, would have carried the piece, as a piece, even without the musical setting. To-night De Lucia shows himself a great actor. There were encores in plenty. Ancona Tonio interrupts the overture in order to sing a prologue. This he does admirably, both vocally and histrionically. But cui bono? It is as pointless as is nowadays the prologue of Christopher Sly to the Taming of the Shrew. It seems as if Leoncavallo said to himself, "Mascagni gave 'em a novelty in his intermezzo; I'll give 'em something new in the shape of a prologue." Pagliacci and Cavalleria will assist each other, and Sir Druriolanus is fortunate in being able to run two winners. The new Opera is admirably rendered in every respect, and when Mr. Richard Green, as the gallant young farmer, is matured—that is, has less of the Green about him and more of the ripeness of artistic perfection—there will not be a single fault to find with the representation. To-night second Opera didn't end till just on twelve. Too late; but the hospitable Rule's in Maiden Lane is open to exceptions for half an hour or so, and, "after the Opera is over," a little supper chez Bayliss is a B(ay)lissful idea.

Saturday.—Faust to finish. Melba as Marguerite. First week augurs well for the season.

THE LITIGANTS VADE MECUM.

Q. What is your opinion about Chancery?

A. That, thanks to work being given to Solicitors in preference to Barristers, litigation is more expensive in that branch of the science than in any other.

Q. How comes it that this should be so?

A. A Barrister is forced to do his best for his client, but a Solicitor is not. As a rule the Solicitor deputes to his Chief Clerk if he has one, or somebody in the office if he has not, the duties of conducting a suit through Chambers.

Q. What is the practical result of this arrangement?

A. That a suit when it once gets into Chambers takes a precious long time in coming out.

Q. But making allowance for these little drawbacks, what is your opinion of the Law in England?

A. That emphatically it consists of the best forensic regulations in the universe.

A New Clause in the Home-Rule Bill.—Instead of a Parliament in Dublin, let the Governing Body be called "A Diet," as it is in Bohemia. There would be a First House, to be called the "High Diet," and a Second House, to be called "Short Commons, or Low Diet." There would be no "Parliamentary Rules," but everything would be ordered according to a "Dietary." Perhaps Dr. Robson Roose might be induced to take a leading part in suggesting some of these arrangements. The "Orders of the Day" would be "Prescriptions," the Bills "Dinner-Bills," or "Menus." A Chairman, not a Speaker, would preside, and the subordinates—such as Clerks, Sergeant-at-Arms, and Assistants—would be Stewards, Head Waiters, and other Waiters. Prayers would be said by "The Ordinary."

Odds in favour of Australian Cricketing Team—"Giffen" and taken.

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

Home of Commons, Monday, May 15.—Mr. G. reminded of advance of time by appearance on Parliamentary scene of new generations. All remember when Joey C. arrived from Birmingham, and have watched his meteoric flight from level of Provincial Mayor to loftiest height of Parliamentary position. Only the other week Mr. G. was paying well-deserved compliment to a younger Chamberlain making his maiden speech; to-day he has a kindly, fatherly word of friendly recognition of maiden speech of youngest Cavendish. No mere compliment this, extorted by old associations and personal predilections. Young Victor went about his work in style reminiscent of middle-aged Hartington. Abstained from oratorical effort. Neither exordium nor peroration. Got some business in hand, and plodded on till it was finished. Modest mien, simple, unaffected manner, instantly won friendly attention of crowded House.

"Ay de mi! Toby," said Mr. G. "These things make me think I'm not so young as I was."

"Younger Sir," I said. "Pup and dog, I've known you twenty years; heard most of your speeches in that time; honestly declare that for lightness of touch, swiftness of attack, wariness of defence, not to speak of eloquence, I've never heard you excel some of your speeches this Session."

"Well, well, Toby," said Mr. G., blushing in fashion never learned by youth of to-day, "that's due to your too friendly way of looking at things. What I was about to say is, that ever since I entered public life I have always known a Cavendish to the fore. Ministries may rise and fall; the Cavendishes remain. Curious thing is they have not—at least in recent times—personally a passion for politics, as Pitt had, or such as, in some degree, influences me. They would, if they had their own way, be out of it.

But the Cavendishes have had their place in English public life throughout the Century, and, it being their duty to fill it, they fill it. Young Victor's speech on Friday night carried me back over space of thirty-four years. I remember another Cavendish coming out. He moved resolution which defeated Derby's Government in 1859. I remember the difficulty we had in bringing him up to the scratch. It was Bright who finally succeeded. Bright always had great opinion of Hartington's ability, a view, as we have seen, amply justified. A great deal has happened since 1859, and now here's another Cavendish moving another Amendment, and, oddly enough"—here Mr. G.'s face wrinkled into smile of delighted humour—"it's ME who would be turned out of office if the Amendment were carried."

Being thus in melting mood, Mr. G. suddenly turned upon inoffensive Jesse Collings, who had been saying a few words, and almost literally rent him into, fragments. Scarcely anything left of him but benevolent though feeble smile.

Business Done.—Very little in Committee on Home-Rule Bill.

Tuesday Night.—Ambrose, Q.C., roused at last. House known him for eight years; only to-night learned that it has been cherishing upon its bosom a sleeping volcano. Following fortunes of Conservative leaders, Ambrose has crossed and re-crossed floor, always taking up seat about centre of Bench immediately behind Prince Arthur; has occasionally risen thence and offered a few observations. Characteristic of him that he was born in a Cathedral town; is a Bencher of the Middle Temple.

These things we knew; but not till to-night came discovery how persuasive Ambrose can be.

It was the Tenth Clause of the Home-Rule Bill that roused the (attorney's) devil in him. Fact that Clause II. was under discussion, and consequently out of order to debate Clause X., an incident of no consequence, except that it indirectly supplied incentive to his passionate eloquence, and led to disclosure of the true Ambrose. When he approached Clause X., cries of "Order! Order!" interrupted. The Chairman recalled him to consideration of Clause II. He came back, said a few words on amendment, then was off again at Clause X., pursued by howls. Had got a start, and kept it through some moments of thunderous excitement. Waved his arms, thumped his papers; shouted at top of voice; House still howling; Chairman on feet ineffectually protesting. "Glad to see the Solicitor-Gentleman in his place," he observed, in one of the temporary pauses, (Rigby usually alluded to as the Solicitor-General, but Ambrose, once started in new character, was lavish in originality.) "Need I go further?" he asked, a few moments later. House, with one accord, shouted "No!" "Now Sir," he added, waving his notes in face of Chairman, "I've done with the Tenth Clause." But he hadn't; its mastery over him was irresistible, even uncanny. "I should like to know what the Solicitor-General" (got it right this time) "if he were at liberty to speak" (this with a withering glance at Mr. G.), "would say about the Tenth Clause?"

A roar angrier than ever burst forth; shouts of "Name! Name!" persistently heard above uproar; Chairman on his feet, with hands outstretched; crisis evidently arrived; Ambrose will be named to a dead certainty; suspended, and, perhaps, in addition to his bench at the Middle Temple, will have one provided for him in Clock Tower. Would like to have said few more words on Tenth Clause, but numbers against him overwhelming. So wildly waved his notes in sort of forlorn despairing farewell, and resumed his seat. Incident created profound sensation.

"It's all very well Chamberlain insisting on keeping this thing going," said Prince Arthur, anxiously; "but I have my responsibilities. If Debate at this comparatively early stage thus affects a man like Ambrose, where shall we all be in another week?"

Business done.—Still on Clause II.

Wednesday.—Pretty to see Gorst just now balancing Macartney's hat by brim on tip of his nose. Looks easy enough when done by an expert; those inclined to scoff at the accomplishment should try it themselves. Opportunity came suddenly, and unexpectedly. No ground for supposing Gorst had been practising the trick in the Cloak-room before entering House. No collusion; all fair and above-board—or, rather, above nose. Came about as incident in Committee on Home-Rule Bill. Jokim, taking part in game of Chairman-baiting, challenged Mellor's ruling on putting Motion to Report Progress. House being cleared for a Division, rules of debate require Member to address Chair seated, and wearing his hat. What would happen to British Constitution if, in such circumstances, Member rose and addressed Speaker or Chairman in ordinary fashion, Heaven only knows. No mere man bold enough to try it. Even Mr. G., who has Disestablished a Church, and now tampers with Unity of the Empire, shrinks before this temptation.

Jokim, making his complaint, got along all right. Performed task in due form; Mellor justified his action; Gorst proposed to follow. Hadn't got his hat with him; but that of no consequence, since Jokim was at hand. "Lend me one of your hats," he whispered hurriedly to his Right Hon. Friend.

"What do you mean?" said Jokim. "I've only one."

"Oh!" said Gorst, raising his eyebrows with polite incredulity. Macartney, sitting behind, proffered his. Gorst planted it on his head; found it three sizes too small; still, if he held on to it, he might manage. "Mr. Mellor," he commenced, but got no further with projected speech. Attention of House drawn to him his dilemma discovered: shout of laughter burst forth as hat gradually tilted forward, and Gorst, deftly catching it by brim on tip of his nose, balanced it for fifteen seconds by Westminster Clock. Chairman seized opportunity of abstracted attention to put question, and when Gorst, recapturing Macartney's hat, had fixed it again on summit of his head, division was called; too late for him to speak.

Business done.—Second Clause Home Rule Bill added.

Friday.—Treasury Chest Bill on for Third Reading. Has since introduction wrought singular effect upon Hanbury. Nobody knows what Bill is about, least of all Hanbury; but he has opposed it at every stage. Yesterday divided Committee on First Clause; returns to attack to-day. "Better let us get away for our hardly-earned holiday," I said.

"That's very well for you, Toby," said Hanbury, beating his chest in default of getting at the Treasury's; "but there's a dark mystery under this business which I mean to fathom. You remember the case of another chest and its weird associations?

Harcourt may, or may not, have been one of the fifteen. I'm not quite clear on that point. Indeed I'm somewhat muddled in the main; but I suspect the Squire is up to some deed of infamy, and I have done my best to plumb its slimy depths."

Bill passed nevertheless; other business wound up, and so off for holidays. Business done.—House adjourned for Whitsun Recess.

The Real "Rejected Addresses."—Those that cannot be deciphered at the General Post Office.