him deliver his speech on the introduction
of the Home Rule Bill, and to remember the vigour with which his
utterances on that occasion stood in such a contrast. This was
superficial and false criticism. It is quite true that the old resonance
of the voice is not there, and it is true that now and then he shows
signs of physical fatigue, and that recently after his cold there were
some days when his voice was little better than a very distinct, but
also a very pathetic, whisper. But there is another side. Age has
mellowed his style, so that now he can speak on even the most
contentious subject with a gentleness and a freedom from anything like
venom--with an elevation of tone--that make it almost impossible for
even his bitterest opponent to listen to him without delight and, for
the moment at least, with a certain degree of assent. If anybody really
wishes to find out what constitutes the highest and most effective form
of House of Commons' eloquence, he should spend his days in listening to
Mr. Gladstone in the most recent style he has adopted in the House of
Commons. And the lessons to be derived are that House of Commons'
eloquence should be easy, genial in temper, reserved in force--in short,
that it should put things with the agreeable candour, and
passionlessness want of exaggeration which characterise well-bred
conversation.

[Sidenote: To the slaughter.]

A foredoomed sheep could not have been brought more unwillingly to the
slaughter than was Mr. Balfour to the debate on the Vote of Censure. He
had nothing new to say, and unfortunately he felt that as keenly as
anybody else. Every single topic with which he had to deal had been
discussed already, until people were positively sick of them--in short,
poor Mr. Balfour was in the position of having to serve up to the House
a dish that had been boiled and grilled and stewed, and yet stewed
again, until the gorge rose at it in revolt and disgust. The late Chief
Secretary has the susceptibility of all nervous temperaments. The men
are indeed few who have equal power with all kinds of audiences--with an
audience that is friendly and that is hostile. Still more rare is it to
find a man who can face an audience even worse than a downright hostile
one, and that is an audience which is indifferent, There are very few
men I have known in my Parliamentary experience who could do it.

[Sidenote: A memory of Parnell.]

Mr. Parnell was one. I have seen him speak quite com