The months in war-time sometimes belie their traditions, but it is fitting that in May we should have enlisted a new Ally—­the Sun.  The Daylight Saving Bill became Law on May 17.  Here is a true economy, and our only regret is that Mr. Willett, the chief promoter of a scheme complacently discussed during his lifetime as ingenious but impracticable, should not have lived to witness its swift and unmurmuring acceptance under stress of war.

The official communiques from the Irish Front in the earlier stages of the Dublin rebellion did not long maintain their roseate complexion.  Even before the end of April a Secret Session—­the second in a week—­was held to discuss the Irish situation.  By a strange coincidence this Secret Session immediately followed the grant by the Commons of a Return relating to Irish Lunacy accounts.  From the meagre official summary we gather that the absence of reporters has at least the negative advantage of shortening speeches.  In a very few days, however, the Prime Minister discarded reticence, admitting the gravity of the situation, the prevalence of street fighting, the spread of the insurrection in the West, the appointment of Sir John Maxwell to the supreme command, and the placing of the Irish Government under his orders.  The inevitable sequel—­the execution of the responsible insurrectionist leaders—­has led to vehement protests from Messrs. Dillon and O’Brien against militarist brutality.  The House of Commons is a strange place.  When Mr. Birrell rose on May 3 to give an account of his nine years’ stewardship, the Unionists, and not the Unionists alone, were thinking of a lamp-post in Whitehall.  When he had concluded his pathetic apologia and confessed his failure to estimate accurately the strength of Sinn Fein, members were almost ready to fall on his neck, but they no longer wanted his head.

[Illustration:  HELD:]

[Illustration:  WANTED—­A ST. PATRICK

ST. AUGUSTINE BIRRELL:  “I’m afraid I’m not so smart as my brother-saint at dealing with this kind of thing.  I’m apt to take reptiles too lightly.”]

Even Sir Edward Carson admitted that Mr. Birrell had been well intentioned and had done his best.  By the middle of the month Mr. Asquith had gone to Ireland, in the hope of discovering some arrangement for the future which would commend itself to all parties.  By the 25th he was back in his place after nine days in Dublin.  But he had no panacea of his own to prescribe; no cut-and-dried plan for the regeneration of Ireland.  All he could say was that Mr. Lloyd George had been deputed by the Cabinet to confer with the various Irish leaders, and the choice is generally approved.  If anyone knows how to handle high explosives without causing a premature concussion it should be the Minister of Munitions.