from the master of many legions to the captain of a few thin
and almost despised battalions. I heard the whole of Lord Rosebery's
speech, and I heard three quarters of the speech of the Marquis of
Salisbury, and no impartial man could deny the contrast between these
two speeches on this occasion, the one being no less fine and complete,
the other no less monotonous than I have set forth. It was not merely
that Lord Salisbury proved himself vastly inferior to Lord Rosebery in
mere oratory, but the speech of the Foreign Secretary was that of a
finer speaker, and of a more serious, intellectual, and sagacious
politician.

[Sidenote: A disadvantage conquered.]

Lord Rosebery had the disadvantage of following upon a speaker who had
reduced the House to a state of somnolent despair. Lord Selborne has an
episcopal appearance, the manner of an author of hymns, and the unctuous
delivery of a High Church speaker. But like most of the orators of the
House of Lords, he considered two hours was the minimum which he was
entitled to occupy, and though he spoke with wonderful briskness, for an
octogenarian, at the beginning of his observations, his voice soon
became so exhausted as to be a mere senile and inaudible whisper. Deeper
and deeper it descended, and the House was in the blackest depths when
the Foreign Secretary rose to speak. Everybody knows how embarrassing
and distressing it is to an orator to have to begin by rousing an
assembly that has been thus depressed; and the difficulty was increased
in the case of Lord Rosebery by the fact that he had to address an
audience in which four hundred men were against him and about forty in
his favour; and there is no orator whose nerve is so steady, and whose
self-confidence is so complete, as not to be depressed and weakened by
such a combination of circumstances. This is partly the reason of the
lighter tone of the earlier observations which offended some too
sensitive critics. Indeed, it might have seemed for some time as if Lord
Rosebery got up with the idea of treating the whole business as the
merest unreality of comedy; and had resolved to signify this by refusing
to treat either the House or the Bill or himself seriously. In face of
the tragedies of the Irish sphinx--with all its centuries of brooding
sorrow behind it, this was not a tone which commended itself to the
judicious. But, then, this was a too hasty criticism. The light and
almost chaffing introduction was necessary