[Sidenote:  A great night.]

It was probably under the influence of Sir William that this turned out to be the greatest and best night the Government had had so far.  The Railway Servants’ Bill got through its third reading amid cheers, and then, before it knew where it was, the House found itself actually in the same night discussing a third Ministerial measure—­the Scotch Fisheries Bill.  It is one of the privileges of Scotland that nobody takes the least interest in her measures outside her own representatives, and that even they are sombre and joyless in the expression of their delight.  The demand for Scotch Home Rule does not come assuredly from the intervention of English or Irish speech.  I have never seen the House with more than a score or two of members when a Scotch question is under discussion, and on the rare occasions on which a Southron does dare to intrude upon the sacred domain, it is with the most shamefaced looks.  And so Sir George Trevelyan and his Scotch friends were allowed to have their nice little tea-party without any interruption, and the Bill got very nicely through.  Thus ended a remarkable night.

[Sidenote:  The bullet in Downing Street.]

And now I come to the point which, after all, had been the most interesting during the week, and which, though rarely mentioned, was in everybody’s mind.  It was on the Thursday evening that Mr. Sexton got up quietly to ask whether the reports published in the evening papers were true, that a man had been arrested the previous night in Downing Street, who had apparently intended to attempt the assassination of the Prime Minister.  There was death-like stillness all over the House as Mr. Sexton put his question—­picking his words slowly and deliberately.  If men were not so anxious and so shocked there might have been some demonstration of the vehement anger which was felt in so many breasts as Mr. Sexton brought out the words which put in collocation in the mind of the unfortunate lunatic the idea of attempting to kill Mr. Gladstone, and the phrase of Sir Henry James during the debate on the Home Rule Bill.  But feeling was too intense and solemn for outspoken or loud utterance, and Mr. Sexton was allowed to put his question to the end without any interruption from the intensely excited and profoundly thrilled assembly.  This is one of the curiosities of Parliamentary and British nature—­that the moments of tensest feeling are so often those which, to a stranger, would appear listless, indifferent, impassive.  Mr. Asquith spoke in tones suitable to the temper of the assembly.  This was a very grave matter, he said; but it was for the moment before the courts of law, and his lips were sealed.  And so the subject dropped.

[Sidenote:  Mr. Gladstone.]