Diary – 28 January 2006

‘To my knowledge, in my lifetime three prime ministers have been adulterers,’ Evelyn Waugh wrote in 1963, ‘and almost every Cabinet has had an addict of almost every sexual vice.’ Another pious Christian put it statistically higher: of the 11 prime ministers he had known, Gladstone said, seven had been adulterers. Mark Oaten’s addiction might have seemed a little outré to the GOM and Waugh, but neither of them was suggesting that private irregularity was a disqualification from public life, and it was Gladstone who had the last word at the time Parnell’s career was ended by the divorce scandal in 1890: ‘What, because a man is called leader of a party, does that constitute him a censor and a judge of faith and morals? I will not accept it. It would make life intolerable.’ He didn’t know the half of it; it has made life intolerable.

Until he mentioned his birthday in a recent Spectator Diary I hadn’t realised how close a contemporary my old chum Hugh Massingberd was. Yes, I too have turned 60, two days before Christmas, and a few other worthies seem recently to have hit the same number. It’s the new 40. It’s also rather good fun. Why, I discover that prescriptions are now free! I find that with my new Railcard I can get a third off fares! (That brings them down to only about half as much again as elsewhere in Europe.) I went to the delightful St George’s on Brandon Hill in Bristol to hear Alfred Brendel, and got £2 off the ticket! The one pity is that none of the phrases for one’s new status — elderly, OAP, oldie — is particular beguiling, although anything is better than ‘senior citizen’. Needless to say the French get it right. Next month I shall be in my beloved St-Martin-de-Belleville, and shall cheerfully present myself for a ski pass as a personne du troisième age.