But he turns up now usually after dinner, and from his seat on the third
bench below the gangway, on the Liberal side, watches the progress of
battle. It is known to the intimates of Mr. Balfour that he has not a
particularly high opinion of his partner in the work of obstructing the
cause of Home Rule. Indeed, it is impossible that the two men should be
really sympathetic with each other. With all his faults, Mr. Balfour
does represent the literary and cultured side of political life; while
Mr. Chamberlain is illiteracy embodied. Then, Mr. Chamberlain has a
knack of attributing every victory to himself--modesty isn't one of his
many virtues--and this cannot be particularly agreeable to the real
leader of the Opposition. There is thus a constant competition between
the two men as to which shall give the marching orders to the enemies of
the Government.

[Sidenote: Mr. Chamberlain's slatternly inaccuracy.]

There was a singular scene on March 6th, which brought out the relations
of the two in a singular manner. There appeared that day in the
congenial columns of the _Times_ a letter, a column in length, and set
forth with all the resources of leaded and displayed type which the
office could afford. In this letter Joe had lamented the disappearance
of those courteous manners of an elder and more Chesterfieldian time, to
which he suggested he belonged. The origin of this delicious lament over
a venerable and more courteous past by so flagrant a type of modernity,
was a statement that Sir William Harcourt had played the dirty trick of
putting down a notice to suspend the twelve o'clock rule at a shorter
notice than usual. The suspension of the twelve o'clock rule simply
means that the Tories shall not be allowed to obstruct by the mere fact
that the House is compelled automatically to close at midnight under the
existing rules. Joe appeared in his place swelling with visibly virtuous