Chamberlain in his library. On such occasions there has been some rare
good talk. I remember on one occasion the conversation did become warmly
political, and there was quite a smart little tussle between our host
and Mr. Jesse Collings. At that time Mr. Collings had a trifle more
sympathy with Irish patriots than I fancy he has now, and with his
naturally warm sympathetic feeling he was for liberating Mr. Parnell,
who was then a prisoner at Kilmainham. But Mr. Chamberlain would have
none of it. He maintained that Mr. Parnell and his friends had broken
the law and must pay the penalty. He was quite willing to consider their
demands, and what they considered to be their wrongs, but they must not
defy the law. Yes, there was some pretty sparring between these two
friends on that occasion, very earnest but, of course, perfectly
good-tempered on both sides.

I have before remarked upon Mr. Chamberlain's self-command and
imperturbability. Some persons are, perhaps, inclined to think that
because he keeps himself so well in hand and so rarely indulges in
sentiment that he is devoid of feeling and emotion. Not so. I recollect
that on the death of Mr. John Henry Chamberlain--no relation of his, but
a gentleman whose personal character, artistic skill, and intellectual
gifts he, and many others, held in high esteem--a meeting was held to
consider the desirability of having some memorial of one whose loss was
so deeply deplored. Mr. Chamberlain took a prominent part in the
proceedings, and I well remember how deeply affected he was when, in the
course of his touching references to his deceased friend, he said, "I
feel that his death, then, is the crowning of a noble life. He has been
called from us in the moment of victory, and we who remain behind are to
be pitied, for we have lost a great leader, and there are none to take
his place."