Welshman's 50th

Jeff Davis died that year in New Orleans. A week later Robert Browning died. Jack the Ripper murdered his eighth victim, and Nellie Ely set sail around the world. The last of Bismarck's dangerously radical social legislation was passed. North and South Dakota, Washington and Montana were admitted to the U. S.

Two events which almost nobody noticed in the midst of all these were the birth in Braunau, Austria, of a boy-child and within a year the entrance into Parliament of a young Welshman--the son of a teacher in Pwllheli, the husband of a woman from Mynyddednyfed. The young parliamentarian burned with liberal zeal to make the capitalistic society of his day a better place to live in; in the last six years the Austrian has undermined the foundations of that society. Last week, within 48 hours of each other, Adolf Hitler celebrated his 50th birthday and David Lloyd George began his soth year in Parliament. In their respective countries, Adolf Hitler had nothing but praise, old Lloyd George merely a short respite from criticism.

When witty, dashing David Lloyd George was elected a Carnarvonshire alderman at 26, an M. P. at 27, he was criticized as being too brash for one so young. At the end of the century, with such mighty trombones as Joe Chamberlain blaring imperialism, he was criticized for playing pacifistic, pro-Boer tunes. The wealthy aristocracy lambasted him, when he became Chancellor of the Exchequer, for his famous Budget of 1909 (which lambasted them) and for his bad taste in calling certain noblemen "Mr. Balfour's poodles." In 1912 he was censured in Parliament for a somewhat shady deal with a Marconi company. As Minister of Munitions in 1915 he was praised for his efficiency, but the next year when he was Prime Minister, he was scolded for meddling in military matters about which he knew very little. Ever since the War he has been criticized for helping to bungle the Versailles Treaty. He has been criticized for his terrific ambition, his impetuousness, even for his long mane and exaggerated cloaks.

Last week, he had broken all records for non-stop membership in Parliament,* but 76-year-old Lloyd George was still being criticized. Two things he still does magnificently: deliver orations and cultivate flowers. M. P.s now grumble because he always leaves the Commons immediately after his orations, never waiting to hear lesser orators express themselves. Amateur gardeners near his estate in Churt, Surrey, also grumble that his great fame, not his great flowers, takes so many flower show prizes away from others. But even these complaints are testimony to the fact that David Lloyd George has been one of the foremost men of his time, and that at 76 he is still a fine figure of a man.

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