It was at this moment—­and, curiously enough, his victory was very soon dashed to the ground—­that Mr. Harrington, one of the Parnellites, struck in with a blow.  In Parliamentary, as in other tactics, one of the wisest expedients—­especially if things are going rather wrong with yourself—­is to carry the war into the enemies’ country.  And this is exactly what Mr. Harrington did.  He turned upon Joe and denounced him for seeking at one time to obtain the alliance of these very Irish members whom now he was denouncing.  He accused him of sending ambassadors to them when they were in prison, and, in short, brought Joe face to face with an almost forgotten period of his history.  Then he was almost a Home Ruler in profession, and looked to the Irish members as a portion of the force he would by-and-bye marshal in his own army.

[Sidenote:  A quid pro quo.]

Joe grew pale.  It is a curious fact that, whenever any allusion is made to this special period of his life, Mr. Chamberlain becomes particularly disturbed; possibly, it is that he is conscious of the rash things he has said at this period; possibly, it is that it can be proved to the world that he was at this period in favour of the principles and the men he now so loudly denounces.  Whatever the reason, it is perfectly certain, if you want to put Mr. Chamberlain into a rage, and what sailors call a funk, allude to the period of Parnell’s imprisonment in Kilmainham, and Mr. Duignan’s letter on the Irish question.  The transformation from the exalted look a few moments before to the pale, cowed aspect which Mr. Chamberlain wore was one of the most sudden transformations I have ever seen in the House of Commons.  He could scarcely sit in his seat while Mr. Harrington was speaking; again and again he rose to interrupt him altogether, and gave signs of unusual excitement and disturbance.  But Mr. Harrington is a deft and tenacious combatant.  In spite of all attempts to stop him, in spite of the tremendous uproar raised by the Unionists and Tories, he managed to get out what he had to say.  He brought Mr. Chamberlain face to face with this spectre of his dead past.

[Sidenote:  Mr. Balfour does not score.]

Meantime, Mr. Balfour made a great mistake.  He had listened to the speech of Mr. Chamberlain, and had been one of those who had joined in the cheers at the exposure of Mr. Dillon’s accidental mistake.  There he should have left it, but, carried away by the hope of driving the point home against a political enemy, he needs must add something to what Mr. Chamberlain had said.  Now Mr. Balfour is in many points very superior to Joe.  He should leave personal vituperation to him:  he is more active, defter, and more willing to do such dirty work.  Moreover, it is in the recollection of the members that, in the Coercionist struggle, Mr. Balfour seemed to have towards Mr. Dillon an unusual amount of personal animosity.  Speaking with want of grace and personal courtesy, which are things, I am bound to say, uncommon with him, he accused Mr. Dillon of deliberate and conscious hypocrisy.  This also was a tactical blunder, and will largely account for the transformation following, to which I am going to refer.