a
compact figure, and his face had in it combative energy as the marked
characteristic. He outlined the policy of the new government with
serene indifference to the stormy disapproval which almost every
sentence evoked. When the outcry became deafening, he paused with a
grim smile on his bull-dog face until the interruption wore itself
out. "This disturbance makes no difference to me," he would quietly
say, "I am only sorry to have the time of the House wasted in such
unreasonable fashion." Then would come another prod and a new chorus
of howls rolling thunderously from the cavern under my feet. It is
not in line with my present plan to describe this speech; that may be
found in Hansard under the date. I touch only on the outside manner
as he fought his fight. It was a fine example of cool, imperturbable,
unshrinking assault, and I thought that in some such way his ancestor,
the great Duke of Marlboro, might have ruled the hour at Blenheim and
Malplaquet. Many years after it fell to me to introduce to an audience
his son Winston Churchill who, when his father was Chancellor of the
Exchequer, was a schoolboy at Harrow. I took occasion to describe
briefly the battle I had seen his father wage at Westminster. It
pleased Winston Churchill then fresh from the fields of South Africa.
"That was indeed a great speech of my father's," he said. Since then
the son has developed into a combatant probably not less formidable
than his forebears.

This was well worth while for me, desiring to see the Parliament of
England in its most interesting moods, but something came later which
I treasure more. While the conflict proceeded, in his place near
the mace but a yard or two distant from the conspicuous figure sat
Gladstone. I had seen him enter the House, a massive frame dressed in
a dark frock-coat which hung handsomely upon his broad shoulders, with
the strong head and face above, set in a lion-like mane of disordered
hair. He sat unmoved and quiet throughout the conflict as he might
have done at a ladies' tea-party, but now he rose to speak. At once
complete silence pervaded the Chamber. I believe I have never seen so
impressive an exhibition of the power of a great personality. Foes as
well as friends waited almost breathless for the words that were to
come. It was a time of crisis. He had just met defeat. What could the
discredited leader say?

He began in a voice scarcely above a whisper, though in the silence it
was distinctl