And now our narrative is nearly at its close. For some time past Lawson's constitution, by nature magnificent, had begun to show signs of the wear and tear inseparable from fifty years of strenuous labour and unstinted endurance. He had long given up hunting, and latterly did not even ride; but he went on shooting regularly to the end. In the autumn of 1905, when he had turned seventy-six, he was one of the guns in a two days' shooting-party at Brayton-being out all day and taking his part with the youngest present.' But at the end of the second day, as he was walking home with his eldest son, he said, 'I've shot my last shot.' During the session of 1906 some of his friends thought that they saw signs of diminished strength; but there were no symptoms of active illness, and no one dreamed that the end was near at hand. On the 29th of June, though confessing that he felt weary, he insisted on going down to the House and recording his vote-the last he ever gave-in a division on Clause 4 of the Education Bill. From the House he returned to No. 18 Ovington Square, where he had lived for the session, went to bed, and never rose again. The doctor called it bronchitis, but it was more like the tired warrior laying down his arms in the fulness of time, having fought the good fight.' He died quite quietly in the early morning of Sunday, 1st of July, and was buried on the 5th of July in the churchyard of Aspatria, in which parish Brayton is situate. Perhaps the following eulogium may not unfitly close this chapter : 'Another life has reached the sea. Again we are in the presence of that eternal peace we call death. My life has been rich in friends, but I never had a better or a truer one than he who lies silent here. He was as steadfast, as faithful as the stars. Sir Wilfrid Lawson was an absolutely honest man. His word was gold. His promise was fulfilment. Never has there been, there never will be on this poor earth anything nobler than an honest, loving soul. Differ from his policy as we may, Sir Wilfrid Lawson was as generous as autumn, as hospitable as summer, and as tender as a day in June. He forgot only himself, and asked favours only for others; he begged for the opportunity to do good. No man has ever slept in death who nearer lived his creed. I have known him for many years, and have yet to hear a word spoken of him except in praise. His life was full of honour, of kindness, and of helpful deeds; besides all, his soul was free. He feared nothing except to do wrong. He was a believer in the gospel of help and hope. He knew how much better, how much more sacred, a kind act was than any theory the brain hath wrought. The good are the noble. His life filled the lives of others with sunshine; he has left a legacy of glory to his survivors. If there be another world, another life beyond the shore of this-if the great and good who die upon this orb are there-then among them stands Sir Wilfrid Lawson. To me this world is growing poor; new friends can never fill the places of the old. The idea of immortality, that, like a sea, has ebbed and flowed in the human heart, with its countless waves of hope and fear, beating against the shores and rocks of time and fate, was not born of any book, of any creed, nor of any religion; it was born of human affection. And it will continue to ebb and flow beneath the mists of cloud and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death. It is the rainbow of hope shining upon the tears of grief.' Swindon July 2, 1906. JOHN WYNN. CHAPTER XII A COMRADE'S TRIBUTE IN allotting the principal place in this book to the 'Reminiscences' which Sir Wilfrid Lawson himself compiled, I believe that I have done what he would have desired. His object in compiling those Reminiscences was, as he expressly said, to record' certain Parliamentary and public incidents' of which he had been a spectator, and in most of which he had borne a strenuous part. It therefore seemed obvious to me, and to those who had the best right to judge, that the Reminiscences should figure in the forefront of the book; but I felt not less convinced that any who should follow with interest and sympathy the record of what Lawson did would wish to learn, on the testimony of those who knew him best, what manner of man he was, and to read the impressions which he has left graven on the hearts of his friends. Some such testimonies I shall now append; reserving to myself the privilege of the final word. In the endeavour to place a sketch of Lawson's character before my readers, I am under peculiar obligations to my friend Sir Francis Channing, M.P. Sir Francis entered Parliament at the General Election of 1885; and between him and Wilfrid Lawson there soon arose a peculiarly strong and cordial affection, which, originating in political agreement, soon extended to all the deepest and highest concerns of human life. In replying to my request for some reminiscences of the friend whom we have lost, Sir Francis wrote: I enclose some most imperfect notes, giving, in the poorest way, I fear, some of the impressions of my dear old friend which have sunk deepest in my mind, and some little incidents of our long comradeship at the Houseone of the most precious privileges of my life. I feel that these notes are wholly inadequate to convey what his friendship meant to me, and how cold and dreary Parliament has seemed since he was taken. Sir Wilfrid Lawson was one of the most beautiful spirits I have ever known; so fearless, so full of fine moral indignation against evil, and yet so gentle, so generous, so full of the sweetness of a self-restrained and forbearing sense of humanity and kindliness. 'On one of my visits to Brayton-September 1905-Lawson was sitting with me on a stone bench in the garden, while the soft afternoon sun played upon us. He fell gently to sleep for a while, and I sat watching his finely drawn, loyal, kindly face with the half-smile that ever seemed upon it. When he woke, he seemed to have a glow of bright fancy upon him; and, looking at the delicate shades of light in the Western sky approaching sunset, he quoted these four lines : 'Dreams are but lights of brighter skies, Too dazzling for our mortal eyes, And, when we see their flashing beams, The emotional and poetic side of Lawson's nature which the foregoing incident illustrates was combined with an intense and vigorous practicalness. There was in him the combination of the Mystic and the Man of Action which has been noted by biographers in so many leaders of mankind, from Cromwell and Wesley to Gladstone and Bishop WilkinFor the practical side of Lawson's nature I turn again to the testimony of Sir Francis Channing. son. The thing I felt most strongly, was the intentness of his spirit on each thing and question and man that came in his way each day-the alertness and springiness of his nature even in the very last few weeks of his life I never knew a man give such close attention to each detail of a Parliamentary day. He never failed to be in his place from the beginning of the sitting, noted each question on the paper with closest interest, and was always instantly ready for any new, or humorous, situation. Every day he would catch the note of some new human aberration and hit it off in verse-often hasty-always with a sly touch of humour, often with a neat turn of epigram, but always immolating on the instant what was false, or base, or a betrayal of the ideal as it lived to him. Many hundreds of these verses in earlier years written on the backs of the Order-Papers, often on notepaper he brought in from the lobbies, must be extant among the papers of friends. Nearly all the verses which have appeared in a volume illustrated by Sir Francis C. Gould were thus struck off in pencil, as he sat musing in his corner seat. He never missed a point in debate, and took up the humorous side of a situation at a flash. I remember one night after dinner, an old Conservative Member who was certainly not a teetotaller -a well-known character in the House at that time-intervened in a Temperance debate, and made the infelicitous remark that he was "full of the subject "-a hit Sir Wilfrid cherished and made a text of. Some of his cleverest verses were of course not written in the House, but most of them were. The other point which struck me most forcibly was the extraordinary hopefulness of his nature. Till the South African War this seemed unbroken and untroubled, though of course I know he keenly suffered at every similar crisisthe Egyptian War, the Soudan, &c., being continual causes of sadness, almost of exasperation. But till then it seemed to me that his faith in the soundness of instinct in the heart of the people remained unshaken, and unshakable. This earnest faith in the true principle of incorruptible democracy was of course the secret of his complete reliance on the principle of Local Option or Local Veto, though the very |