s the net spread in the sight of any bird.'

Mercier's visit, however, had no relation to this matter, but had been
arranged for the discussion of purely financial matters with Sir John
and his colleagues. The appointed morning arrived, and Mercier,
frock-coated and very formal and precise, was shown into Sir John's
office. A meeting of Council had been called for the occasion, and
while the members {164} were gathering the two leaders exchanged a few
remarks of a purely conventional character. At length, when all was
ready, Sir John rose and, with a stiff bow and 'Will you follow me,
sir?' led the way along the hall towards the council chamber, with
Mercier close behind him. As they turned into the corridor leading to
the chamber, Mercier, feeling some constraint and wishing to make a
little conversation, said, half jokingly, 'Sir John, I wish you would
tell us whether you are going to disallow our Jesuits' Estates Act or
not.' Suddenly the old man unbent, his eyes brightened, his features
grew mobile, as he half looked back over his shoulder and said in a
stage whisper, 'Do you take me for a damn fool?' In a second it was
all over, his figure again became erect, all trace of expression died
out of his face, and with measured pace and serious mien the two men
passed into the council chamber.

My recollections of the day of Sir John Macdonald are chiefly connected
with official, as distinct from parliamentary, life. At the same time
I recall many amusing incidents which took place in the House of
Commons. Of all the members of that assembly I thought Sir Richard
Cartwright the most accomplished {165} debater. He was perhaps the
only member of the House who could afford to have his words taken down
and printed exactly as he spoke them. Uniformly a kind and considerate
minister towards his subordinates, his attitude towards his opponents
in parliament was ferocious, though perhaps this ferocity was often
more simulated than real. One illustration of his savage humour occurs
to me. About the year 1883 a life of Sir John Macdonald appeared
written by a certain John Edmund Collins. Sir John did not know the
author, nor had he any connection with the book. It was merely a
well-ordered presentation of facts already known, and did not profess
to be anything more. Some of the government departments bought copies
and the title appeared in the public accounts, which came before
parliament. This gave Sir Richard on