called out for it, and, at
once, there was a rush from the Treasury Bench to the lobby outside.
But, before this could be done, the very pleasant little episode to
which I have alluded took place. There stood opposite Mr. Jackson, the
late Chief Secretary, an untouched glass of water. When he heard the
cry of the Old Man, Mr. Jackson--who has plenty of Yorkshire kindliness,
as well as Yorkshire bluffness--at once took up the glass that stood
before him, and handed it across the table. With a bow, and a delighted
and delightful smile, the Old Man took the glass, and drank almost
greedily. And then, turning to his opponents, he said, "I wish the right
hon. gentleman who uses me so kindly, were as willing to take from my
fountainhead as I am from his." The grace, the courtesy, the readiness
with which it was said, took the House by storm, and it was hard to say
whether the delighted laughter and cheers came in greater volume from
the Tory or the Liberal side of the House.

[Sidenote: The peroration.]

And Mr, Gladstone's power increased with his power over the House. It
looked as if you were watching some mighty monarch of the air that rises
and rises higher, higher into the empyrean on slow-poised, even almost
motionless, wing. Leaving behind the narrow issues of the particular
motion before the House, Mr. Gladstone entered on a rapid survey of the
mournful and touching relations between English officialism and Irish
National sentiment. From the dead past, he called up the touching,
beautiful, and sympathetic figure of Thomas Drummond, and all his
efforts to reconcile the administration of the law with the rights and
sentiments of the Irish people. The time for cheering had passed. All
anybody could do was to listen in spellbound silence, as sonorous
sentence rolled after sonorous sentence. And then cams the end, in a
softer and lower key. It was a direct personal allusion to Mr. Morley.
It was the whole weight of the Government and of its head thrown to the
side of the Chief Secretary in the new policy in Ireland. "We claim,"
said Mr. Gladstone, "to be partakers of his responsibility, we appeal to
the judgment of the House of Commons, and we have no other desire except
to share his fate." And then a hurricane of applause.

[Sidenote: A first experience.]

It was impossible not to feel sympathy for Lord Randolph Churchill in
the difficult task of following such a speech. The first thing he had to
do was to bear testi