The _Evening German_ had for several days headed its leading article, “Why don’t he resign?” A member of the unscrupulous gang who ever lie in wait for whatever is innocent and enthusiastic called, just before press, upon the editor of the _Evening German_, passing himself off as the valet of the minister whose resignation was demanded. He produced a small sheet of MSS., and affirmed it to be the exact account of an interview between the minister and his doctor, which interview the valet had overheard, “concealed,” as he put it “behind an arras.” He said it would explain the situation thoroughly. He received no less than 25 guineas, and departed. Now let the student read what follows, and ask himself by what madness a responsible editor came to print a thing so self-evidently absurd. WHY HE DOES NOT RESIGN! We have received upon an unimpeachable authority the verbatim account of an interview between him and his medical adviser, which we think thoroughly explains the present deadlock in Imperial affairs. We are assured upon oath that he was in bed when the doctor called just before noon yesterday, and that the following dialogue took place:-- MINISTER (_in bed_)--Good morning, Doctor, I am glad to see you. What can I do for you?... I mean, I am glad to see you. Pray excuse the inadvertence of my phrase, it is one that I have lately had to use not a little. DOCTOR--Pray let me look at your tongue and feel your pulse. So. We are getting along nicely. At what hour were you thinking of rising? MINISTER--At twelve, my usual hour. I see no reason for lying in bed, Doctor. (_There was a despairing tone in this phrase_). I am well enough, Doctor, well enough. (_Here he gazed sadly out of the window into St. James’s Park_). I am a Minister, but I cannot minister to a mind diseased (_this rather bitterly_). There is nothing the matter with me. DOCTOR (_cheerily_)--My dear Mr. ----, do not talk so. You will be spared many, many useful years, I hope. Indeed, I am sure. There is, as you say, nothing the matter--nothing organically the matter; this lassitude and nervous exhaustion from which you suffer is a distressing, but a common symptom of mental activity. (_Here the doctor dived into a black bag_). Let me sound the chest. MINISTER--Will it hurt? (_This was said rather anxiously_). DOCTOR--Not a bit of it. I only wish to make assurance doubly sure--as we say in the profession. (_He put the stethoscope to the chest of the Cabinet Minister_). Now, draw a deep breath ... no, deeper than that ... a really deep breath. MINISTER (_gasping_)--I can’t. DOCTOR--Tut, tut.... Well, it’s all a question of lungs. (_Here he moved the stethoscope again_). Now sing. MINISTER--La! La!... La! DOCTOR--Nothing wrong with the lungs. Only a little feeble perhaps. Do you take any exercise?