had finally passed the House of
Commons, with several of its clauses undebated. What, then, this fierce
Irish cheer meant was that the chickens were coming home to roost; and
that the Tories were now reaping the harvest of their own sowing. With
grave face the Old Man waited until the storm had spent itself, and then
he went on to make a little slip, which for the moment gave his enemies
an excellent opening.

[Sidenote: Revolution or resolution.]

He spoke not of the resolution, but of the revolution. He corrected the
slip with great rapidity, but he was not quick enough for his watchful
enemies, and loudly--discordantly--triumphantly--they repeated the word
after him--Revolution--Revolution. However, Mr. Gladstone, after his
Socratic fashion, lowered his eyes for a moment and went off into one of
those abstract reveries whither he always allows his fancy to wend its
way whenever his opponents are particularly rancorous. Then he described
the resolution--not the revolution--as in the interest of the
convenience and liberty of the House. But he immediately added--with the
sweetest smile--that Mr. Balfour would doubtless form his own judgment
on that point; and then, still calm, sweet, with the tendency to the
reverie of the good man grossly misjudged by sinful opponents, he sat
him down.

[Sidenote: An awkward moment.]

In the midst of the exultation which the announcement of the Government
had produced in the Liberal ranks, there came a difficulty and a
humiliation. An amendment had been proposed, Mr. Gladstone had twice
opposed it, everything pointed to its ignominious rejection, and, in
view of the coming closure, everybody seemed to want rapid despatch. And
thus a division was immediately called. The House was cleared; members
rushed in, and, indeed, had already begun to pass through the lobby;
when suddenly there was a complete change of tactics; Mr. Marjoribanks,
rushing to the Treasury Bench, called upon the Government to capitulate.
The fact got out; the Government were in a minority--their forces had
not come in time, and the Tories would have beaten us if they had been
allowed to go to a division. It was one of the narrowest shaves--one of
the most uncomfortable quarters of a minute--we have had in the House of
Commons for many a long day.

[Sidenote: The fateful moment.]

But half-past five comes at last; then the discussion on the Home Rule
Bill has to come to an end, and the Speaker takes the chair.