in the highest interests of
art; for, as I have said, the House was depressed, and it was in no mood
to listen to an orator whose creed appeared to it the merest rank
treason. It was necessary to get the House into something like
receptiveness of mood before coming to serious business; when that was
done, it was time enough to seek to impress it.

[Sidenote: An oratorical tour de force.]

And this is just what happened. Everybody was in really good spirits by
the time Lord Rosebery ten minutes on his legs; Lord Selborne's unctuous
dronings had disappeared into the irrevocable and vast distances; in
short, the moribund Chamber was alive, vivacious, and receptive. And
when he had got them to this point Lord Rosebery took the serious part
of his work seriously in hand. Not that he attempted lofty appeal. On
the contrary, rarely throughout the speech did he raise his voice above
that clear, penetrating, but eminently self-restrained tone which is the
tone of a man of good society, discussing the loftiest and most complex
problem with the easy and disillusioned composure of the experienced and
slightly cynical man of the world. Nay, Lord Rosebery offended some of
his critics by openly avowing the creed of the man of the world in
dealing with the whole problem. He was careful to disown enthusiasm, or
fanaticism, or even willingness in the service of Home Rule. It was with
him simply a frigid matter of policy, a policy to which he had been
driven by the resistless evidence of facts, the resistless logic of
reason.

[Sidenote: A deep-laid purpose.]

This frankly was an attitude which grated slightly on the sensitive
nerves of the many to whom Ireland's emancipation--with all the sobbing
centuries which lie behind it--is a fanaticism, a faith, a great creed;
but the point to be really considered is whether this was the tone to
adopt for the purpose of carrying out the desired end. And I am inclined
to think--and some of the hottest Irishmen I know agree with me--that
this was the very way Lord Rosebery should have spoken. And after all it
was wonderfully impressive--even to me with all I feel about the Irish
question. For the image it presented--set forth by the physical aspect
of the orator--was such as I can imagine to be wonderfully impressive to
that dull, unimaginative, and unsentimental personage--the man of the
shifting ballast, whose almost impenetrable brain has to finally decide
this question. And the image presen