Old Man

Winston Churchill still stirred the hearts of men more deeply, symbolized the West more grandly, and held his liquor more steadfastly than any other leader of his time. But Churchill was getting old.

His grotesquely ill-tempered, little-boy prank of sticking out his tongue at His Majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs (TIME, June 3) had given his Labor enemies a chance to jeer that he was in his second childhood, and had intensely embarrassed his fellow Tories. It had also crystallized their opposition to his party leadership.

More & more Tories charge that in debates of world impact he merely grapples with the Government for petty party gains, while in matters of genuine difference with the Government he lets subordinates take over. Gravest and most justified complaint: Churchill, in his staunch opposition to gradual relaxing of the Empire's bonds, does not reflect his party's majority view.

All over Britain, gratitude for Churchill's wartime services had become tinged with impatience. With more sorrow than anger, newspapers began to suggest that it was about time for him to retire. Last week, the News Chronicle advised him to withdraw to his study and write a chronicle of World War II, instead of wasting his eloquence on parliamentary name calling--like "a great poet spending his time writing Christmas cracker mottoes."

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