years ago, towards the close of the Session of 1889, the temporary withdrawal of Mr. Gladstone from the scene gave him his chance. It happened that the Government under the leadership of Mr. Smith, and, it was understood, on the personal instruction of Lord Salisbury, were pressing forward the Tithes Bill. They had an overwhelming, well-disciplined majority, and being pledged up to the hilt to carry the Bill, the issue seemed certain. Through a whole week Sir William led the numerically-overpowered Opposition, fighting the Bill at every step. The hampered Government were determined to get some sort of Bill passed, and, hopeless of achieving their earliest intention, foreshadowed another measure in a series of amendments laid on the table by the Attorney-General. The Opposition were not disposed to accept this with greater fervour than the other, and finally Mr. Smith announced a total withdrawal from the position.
Nothing was finer throughout the brilliant campaign than Sir William Harcourt's lamentations over this conclusion. Having inflicted on a strong Government the humiliation of defeat upon a cherished measure, he, in a voice broken with emotion, held poor W. H. Smith up to the scorn of all good men as a heartless, depraved parent, who had abandoned by the wayside a promising infant.
In the present Session Sir William, as Deputy Leader, finds himself in a position different from, and more difficult than, the one filled in August, 1889. He was then in the place of the Leader of the Opposition, and had a natural affinity for the duty of opposing. In the present Session he has been frequently and continuously called upon to perform the duties of Leader of the House, and his success, though not so brilliantly striking as in the short, sharp campaign against the Tithes Bill, has stood upon a broader and more permanent basis. The House of Commons, as Mr. Goschen learned during the experiments in Leadership which preceded his disappearance from the front rank, may be led, but cannot be driven.
"The happy warrior."
It is curious that two of the most aggressive controversialists in the House, being temporarily called to the Leadership, have shown themselves profoundly impressed with this truth. Like Lord Randolph Churchill, when he led the House, Sir William Harcourt appears on the Treasury Bench divested even of his side-arms. Like the Happy Warrior, his helmet is a hive for bees. His patience in time of trial has been pathetic, and, whatever may be his own feelings on the subject, the House has been amazed at his moderation. He has sat silent on the Treasury Bench by the hour, with Mr. Arthur Balfour, Mr. Chamberlain, Lord Randolph Churchill, and other old familiar adversaries, trailing tempting coat-tails before him.
One night this Session, in debate on Uganda, Mr. Chamberlain interposed and delivered a brilliant, bitter speech, which deeply stirred a crowded House. It was drawing to the close of an important debate, and Mr. Chamberlain sat down at half-past eleven, leaving plenty of time for the Leader of the House to reply. To an old Parliamentary war-horse the situation must have been sorely tempting. A party like to be sent off into the division lobby with a rattling speech from the Front Bench. There was ample time for a brisk twenty minutes' canter, and the crowded and excited House were evidently in the vein to be shown sport. But there was nothing at stake on the division. Though Mr. Chamberlain could not withstand the opportunity of belabouring his old friends and colleagues, he did not intend to oppose the vote for Uganda, which would receive the hearty support of the Con-
