and generosity as Canada.  While the Liberals were still cheering this thrust, Mr. Chaplin got up to make the remark that Cavour had said other things quite contradictory of this, whereupon the Old Man—­still with a smile of deadly courtesy—­pounced upon Mr. Chaplin with the remark, “Is it your case, then, that Cavour contradicted himself?”—­a retort, the rapidity and completeness of which crushed Mr. Chaplin for the moment.

[Sidenote:  Cowed silence of the Tories.]

When he dealt with the charge that the Government had unduly curtailed debate, the Old Man had made up his case very thoroughly, and as he read the damning indictment which showed the wild multitudinousness, the infinite variety and the prolonged duration of the speeches of the Opposition, there was plenty of encouraging cheers from the Liberal side; while on the Tory Benches they sat in dumb and stricken silence.  Indeed, throughout the whole speech, the Tories were singularly quiet.  Perhaps it was that they too were carried away by the witchery and the spell which the Old Man had cast over the rest of the House; and, while disagreeing with him, were still sufficiently wound up to the lofty and more empyrean heights which the orator reached to feel that there would be something jarring and even common in a note of dissent.  Whatever the reason, they remained uncommonly silent throughout the whole speech; and, sometimes, when one or two of the more ebullient members spoke, the interjectors got very little change for their pains.

[Sidenote:  The readiness of the Old Man.]

And this silence was the more remarkable in one or two of the most important passages of the Bill, for the Old Man challenged interruption.  Thus he ranged the objections to the Bill under seven separate heads, and then he proceeded to read out these heads.  They were all a perfectly faithful representation—­in some cases even a repetition—­of what the Tories had said; but stated baldly, nakedly, in the cold light of early day, they sounded intensely ridiculous.  It was impossible, for instance, to take seriously the resounding proposition that the Bill “would break up the Empire”—­that under the Bill the loyal minority would incur loss of life, liberty and property, and so on.  As Mr. Gladstone read out these propositions there was a deadly chill, a disheartened silence, on the Tory Benches which had its importance, for it showed plainly that, however ready they were to mouth these things on platforms they felt a little ashamed of them in their more sober moments.  Just once or twice, a stray Tory did venture to signify by a timid and faint cheer his acceptance of the ridiculous litany of prophecy and reprobation which Mr. Gladstone was repeating to him.  And then the Old Man was delightful; he smiled all over his face until its features were one vast mass of corrugated wrinkles; then he waved his hand a little to the other side, and finally congratulated himself on being in the happy position of being even partially corroborated by gentlemen of opposite opinions, Whereupon, of course, the whole House laughed, including the very member whom the Old Man had thus toasted.  In short, as will have been seen from my description, the Old Man was in his very best form, in full command of himself, of his friends, and even of his enemies.