“But, Sir,” persisted the correspondent, “considering the magnitude of your victory and the unique place you now occupy, would it not be meet that you should say a word or two to the public, who are desirous of getting an indication from you of the policies you will carry out?” He hesitated, yielded at last to persuasion, and gave a column and a quarter of copy, at once exceedingly interesting and valuable. He could not commit the party to any particular policy at the moment of victory. He would have to consult his colleagues, but nevertheless, he outlined in general terms what the party would stand for now that it had received the public mandate. He made it plain that he stood for the principle of harmony between the two great races in the Dominion. That had been his aim in life, and it would remain his aim as long as he lived. He had his principles which he considered those of progress, but he did not want any bitterness. He wanted co-operation and concord. It would be the realization of his life dream if he could bring the two races together. At the time when the interview was granted the rotunda of the old St. Lawrence Hall was filled with his admirers. He was surrounded by young men full of ardour, idealists, many of them, disinterested and hopeful of great things for the country. The hardened political cynic was not absent either, but there was a whirl of emotion; the present and the future were enswathed in radiant hope and when the Chieftain came down to the rotunda—erect, with flashing eyes, the cheers were magnetic. Many eyes were wet. The tide of emotion swelled in every breast. He was lifted shoulder-high by his adherents, of whom there were hundreds present, all of whom believed that in the Liberal Leader they had a man who would save the country. It was after this tumultuous demonstration that the Premier gave out the interview. The Liberal Chief all that day was followed by admiring crowds. On being reminded of the kind things which the English press had written about him from time to time, he said that he read every word of that kind of writing, not because of vanity, but because he loved to think that every kindly word written or spoken did something in bringing about a better feeling between the two great races. “I love England because she is the mother of free nations. I look up to her because she is the apostle of freedom. I admire her lofty ideals, her moral conscience, her high standards which she sets up. She is, it may be, a trifle Puritanic, but she is the greatest moral asset in the world, and I admire her statesmen intensely—John Bright has been my mentor and idol, and, of course, Gladstone, as the great apostle of freedom, both fiscally and politically.” * * * * *