He was a great lover of birds, and on a beautiful day in September, 1911, just prior to addressing a great outdoor meeting, he was sitting on a lawn with several friends. The weather was unusually warm, and there were a number of orioles, and other birds, flying about the grounds, and, occasionally, singing in the trees. Sir Wilfrid noticed them, and, taking off his hat, he laid it on the grass, and, as if he had no cares or thoughts in the world, except for the homely things of nature, he told about the birds that used to come each spring to the woods around Arthabaskaville, and described minutely their plumage. Then he recalled that from time to time certain kinds of birds would disappear, and others would come in their places, and that, after a lapse of a few years, it was difficult to find any of the birds with which he had been familiar when a young man. His whole conversation indicated how close to nature he must have been in his youth, and how keen his powers of observation always were. In the same way, he was an intense lover of trees. He took great pride in the shade trees of the city of Ottawa, and was always hurt when he saw any of them mutilated or wantonly destroyed. One night before the last election he engaged in a chat about world conditions as they then existed. By degrees he became absorbed in the subject, and drew such a rapid and comprehensive world-picture that one could not help regretting that the whole Dominion was not listening to him. Referring to Russia, he contrasted the condition of the people there with the condition of the people in the United States, and remarked that perhaps the most extraordinary thing that had taken place within his life time was the effect produced by the general spread of education in the United States. In illustration of this, he pointed to the fact that, while it was the custom for people, when he was a young man, to sneer at the college professor in the neighbouring Republic, the Americans now had in Woodrow Wilson a college professor for their President. He went on to describe conditions in Russia, and deplored the fact that, as there were at least one hundred millions of illiterate people there, it would be impossible to effect a change, except in one of two ways, namely, by the spread of education—which would take too long—or by the appearance of another Napoleon. Thereupon a guest remarked that, for the sake of ending the world war, it was to be hoped that another Napoleon would soon appear. Sir Wilfrid made a slight gesture with his right hand, and, shaking his head, said, “No, it is not time. There were 1,000 years between Caesar and Charlemagne, and there were 800 years between Charlemagne and Napoleon. You see, it is not yet time for another Napoleon to appear.” Could anything be more graphic or concrete than this rapidly sketched picture?