Then, as throughout his whole career, he showed an extraordinary aversion to letter-writing.  He became known in Parliament as the “Great Unanswered.”  He used to say, and still does, that an unanswered letter answers itself in time.  This led to the tradition that the only way to get a written reply out of Lloyd George was to enclose two addressed and stamped cards, one bearing the word “Yes” and the other “No.”  More than once, however, when friends and constituents tried this ruse they got both cards back in the same envelope!

Not long ago a well known Englishman wanted to make a written request of Lloyd George and on consulting one of his associates was given this instruction:  “Make it brief.  Lloyd George never reads a letter that fills more than half a page.”

There is no need of rehearsing here the long-drawn struggle through which he made his way to party leadership.  In Parliament and out, he was a hornet—­a good thing to let alone, and an ugly customer to stir up.  Whether he lined up with the Government or Opposition it mattered little.  Lloyd George has always been an insurgent at heart.

The crowded Nineties were now nearing their end, carrying England and Lloyd George on to fateful hour.  Ministries rose and fell:  Roseberry and Harcourt had their day:  Chamberlain climbed to power:  Asquith rose over the horizon.  The long smouldering South African volcano burst into eruption.  It meant a great deal to many people in England but to no man quite so much as to Lloyd George.

Now comes the first of the many amazing freaks that Fate played with him.  The Institution of War which in later years was to make him the very Rock of Empire was now, for a time at least, to be his undoing.

Before the conflict with the Boers Lloyd George was a militant pacifist—­a sort of peacemaker with a punch.  When England invaded the Transvaal Lloyd George began a battle for peace that made him for the first time a force in Imperial affairs.  He believed himself to be the Anointed Foe of the War and he dedicated himself and all his powers to stem what seemed to be a hopeless tide.

It was a courageous thing to do for he not only risked his reputation but his career.  Up and down the Empire he pleaded.  He was in some respects the brilliant Bryan of the period but with the difference that he was crucifying himself and not his cause upon the Cross of Peace.  He became the target of bitter attack:  no epithet was too vile to hurl upon him.  Often he carried his life in his hands as the episode of the Birmingham riot shows.  In all his storm tossed life nothing approached this in daring or danger.

Lloyd George was invited to speak in the Citadel of Imperialism which was likewise the home of Joseph Chamberlain, Arch-Apostle of the Boer War.  Save for the staunchest Liberals the whole town rose in protest.  For weeks the local press seethed and raged denouncing Lloyd George as “arch-traitor” and “self-confessed enemy.”  He was warned that he would imperil his life if he even showed himself.  He sent back this word:  “I am announced to speak and speak I will.”