class="pindent">The “Manchester (England) Guardian” in its Empire Number of March 20th., 1917, had the following:—

“In Canada, again, so soon as the causes of the war were fully apprehended, all discussion of Canadian obligations and of the limit of Canadian liabilities to the Empire gave way before a passionate determination to lend all possible aid in a just cause. The mind of Canada was well expressed in a speech on the outbreak of war by Sir Wilfrid Laurier, leader of the Liberal Opposition, and the greatest and most venerable figure in Dominion statesmanship. Throughout his career he had resisted with the utmost of his power and eloquence all suggestions for a mechanical strengthening of the Imperial tie, and had the legal obligations of Canada at this crisis run counter to the mind of her people it would have been his part to make clear the discrepancy. On the first day of the emergency session of the Canadian Parliament he said:—

“It is our duty, more pressing upon us than all other duties . . . to let Great Britain know, that there is in Canada but one mind and one heart, and that all Canadians stand behind the mother country, conscious and proud that she had engaged in this war, not from any selfish motive, for any purposes of aggrandisement, but to maintain untarnished the honour of her name, to fulfill her obligations to her allies, to maintain her treaty obligations and to save civilization from the unbridled lust of conquest and power.”

The secret of his great powers was not hard to find. Perhaps at the very foundation must be placed his broad tolerance and kindliness. He was first of all a Christian gentleman. Then following that must be placed his thorough mastery of the great writers in both English and French and a complete understanding of the points of view of these two people. It was characteristic of the man that he should always remember with kindly feelings the influence and atmosphere of the Scottish home where he lived for a period. It was there that he got his first love for the tongue of Shakespeare and Milton, and where he made himself familiar with the struggles and achievements of Fox, Bright, Morley, Gladstone and other great Liberal leaders.

No matter on what occasion or what his subject might be, his audience was always sure to be treated to some striking phrase or bit of imagery that made a lasting impression. On his return from Europe a few years ago, he urged the young men of the Dominion in the words of Henry of Navarre: “To follow his White Plume and there they would find honour.” Again when speaking of the Grand Trunk Pacific project he announced that “it would roll back the map of Canada and add depth to the country.”

The princeliness of his bearing was that which impressed the British public most when he first went to Great Britain in 1897, as a guest at Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Richard Harding Davis, who described that event for “Harper’s Magazine,” said that in the procession to Westminster Abbey on that occasion, the two individuals, who, after the aged Queen herself, most aroused the enthusiasm of the myriad spectators, were Lord Roberts, the typical military hero, and Sir Wilfrid Laurier, whom most of them saw for the first time. He appealed to England as an essentially romantic figure; typical of what British Imperial prestige stood for—a man of foreign race, whom Britain’s wise colonial policy had made a distinguished servant of the Crown.

During the Royal tour of 1901, and at the Quebec Tercentenary celebration of 1908, one saw Sir Wilfrid in contact with the coterie of distinguished men that the present King, first as Duke of Cornwall and York, and later as Prince of Wales, brought with him to this country. To Canadians, whatever their politics, it gave a deep sense of satisfaction to recognize in their own Prime Minister, a man who seemed to embody the flower of civilization. Knighthood, though it be a bauble, never sat more fittingly on a modern man, than on him. Among all the men who constituted the Royal entourage, on both occasions, only one was his equal in this peculiar quality of high physical distinction, and that was Viscount Crichton, afterwards the Earl of Erne.

In so far as possible, Sir Wilfrid Laurier confined business to business hours. His habits did not vary. In the days of his premiership he rose each morning before eight o’clock, and after breakfast his private secretary would go to his library and the morning’s mail would be opened. Replies would be dictated without delay. By pursuing this policy Sir Wilfrid left himself free to receive callers and transact other business when he arrived at his office. Sir Wilfrid’s mail was large, but not so large as that received by many of his ministers. In his younger days he had an extremely large personal correspondence, but the passing away of many of his early associates reduced it considerably as years went by.

When he was Prime Minister, he usually arrived at his office at 10.30 a.m. Everyone in Ottawa knew Sir Wilfrid and his commanding figure always attracted attention. Once in his office there was usually a steady stream of visitors or deputations to be received. The deputations were usually heard after appointments had been arranged. In the afternoon the callers as a rule were not so numerous, and if the House was sitting there was frequently a meeting of the Cabinet Council before it came together at 3 o’clock.

In the late years of his premiership Sir Wilfrid avoided the night sessions whenever possible. Frequently he would occupy his seat for an hour after business was resumed in the evening and then go home leaving the fortunes of the Government forces in the hands of his ministers. When the House was not in session he usually left off business about 5 o’clock, sometimes being detained to a later hour by a meeting of the Cabinet Council.

The late leader as an English-speaking parliamentarian, was the wonder of his day and generation, and one had to be well acquainted with both languages to notice the least error in his English grammar. Sir Wilfrid always tripped up, however, in the use of the English verbs “to do” and “to make,” which are one and the same “faire” in French, for very frequently he would make use of “do” when “make” was the proper English word, or vice versa. As a bilingual orator, it is safe to say, however, that Wilfrid Laurier stood alongside of such men as Real de la Valliere and ex-Premier Waddington of France, who spoke English and French. In the House of Commons Sir Wilfrid Laurier’s English was simply magnificent, and, in fact, his models were John Bright, William Ewart Gladstone, Pitt, Earl of Chatham, and others of that splendid galaxy of British statesmen, whose names so brilliantly illuminate so many of the most fascinating pages of the Empire’s history. He would, in fact, become so impregnated with English-expressed mannerisms that at the close of a long session of the House of Commons his English accent, when speaking his own mother tongue, would be distinctly marked. He was not always consistent, but was ever happy when pleading the cause of a minority or a lost cause, his speeches on the execution of Louis Riel, the Remedial Bill, and others, being amongst the most eloquent pages of the Commons Hansard. Sir Charles Tupper, when sitting opposite the late leader during his address on the amendment to reject the Remedial Bill, remarked to his desk-mate that if he had