believe that the Government was, like Cæsar's wife, beyond reproach. His attitude implied that the Cabinet could do no wrong, and that the misfortunes and errors (if errors there were) were due to a concatenation of circumstances for which neither the Government at home nor the generals abroad could be held responsible. In consequence of this attitude, on one side Mr. Balfour was blamed, on another, Mr. Chamberlain. The Colonial Secretary was accused of the policy of "bluffing with a weak hand," while the Chancellor of the Exchequer, as was inevitable, came in for his share of obloquy. It was the cheeseparing principle that was at the bottom of it all; cheeseparing and red-tape were responsible for debility and delay of all kinds, and political inertia had undoubtedly spelt defeat. The clamour was reasonable and just. It was felt that prudence and energy should have served as fuel to stoke the engine of public affairs, not as a brake to be put on in the face of disaster. On all hands the public of one consent cried for a new broom and "a great co-ordinating guiding mind," and the universal clamour awoke the Government to a consciousness that there are times and seasons in the history of nations when party recriminations and crystallised party etiquette must give way before the stress of a great national need--the need to preserve at all costs the honour and the reputation of the Empire in face of the whole world. Accordingly, the opening debate of the Session was one which cannot be passed over. The Queen's Speech struck a note of decision that was at once comforting and in sympathy with her people. Thus it ran: "I have witnessed with pride and the heartiest gratification the patriotism, eagerness, and spontaneous loyalty with which my subjects in all parts of my dominions have come forward to share in the common defence of their Imperial interests. I am confident that I shall not look to them in vain when I exhort them to sustain and renew their exertions until they have brought this struggle for the maintenance of the Empire and the assertion of its supremacy in South Africa to a victorious conclusion." The Earl of Kimberley commented on the ignorance of the Government regarding the military preparations that for years had been going on in the Transvaal, and indulged in criticisms which might have been weighty had his hearers not been tickled by the strange irony of fate which converted into critic one of the authors of the humiliating drama which had been left to shape itself from the disastrous _scena_ of 1881. To these criticisms the Prime Minister--somewhat broken by domestic bereavement--offered but a weak and depressing reply. "How," he asked, in regard to the Boer preparations, "could the Government know what was going on?"