y equal array. Mr. Disraeli's
speech,' he says, 'was in every respect worthy of his oratorical
reputation. The retorts were pointed and bitter, the hits telling, the
sarcasm keen, the argument in many places cogent, in all ingenious, and
in some convincing. The merits were counterbalanced by no less glaring
defects of tone, temper, and feeling. In some passages invective was
pushed to the limit of virulence, and in others, meant no doubt to
relieve them by contrast, the coarser stimulants to laughter were very
freely applied. Occasionally whole sentences were delivered with an
artificial voice and a tone of studied and sardonic bitterness,
peculiarly painful to the audience, and tending greatly to diminish the
effect of this great intellectual and physical effort. The speech of Mr.
Gladstone was in marked contrast. It was characterised throughout by the
most earnest sincerity. It was pitched in a high tone of moral
feeling--now rising to indignation, now sinking to remonstrance--which
was sustained throughout without flagging and without effort. The
language was less ambitious, less studied, but more natural and flowing
than that of Mr. Disraeli; and though commencing in a tone of stern
rebuke, it ended in words of almost pathetic expostulation.... That
power of persuasion which seems entirely denied to his antagonist, Mr.
Gladstone possesses to great perfection, and to judge by the
countenances of his hearers, those powers were very successfully
exerted. He had, besides, the immense advantage resulting from the tone
of moral superiority which he assumed and successfully maintained, and
which conciliated to him the goodwill of his audience in a degree never
attained by the most brilliant sallies of his adversary, and when he
concluded the House might well feel proud of him and of themselves.'

A violent thunderstorm raged during the debate, but the excited senators
neither noticed the flashes of lightning nor heard a tremendous shock of
thunder. A little before four o'clock in the morning (Dec. 17), the
division was taken, and ministers were beaten by nineteen (305 to 286).
'There was an immense crowd,' says Macaulay, 'a deafening cheer when
Hayter took the right hand of the row of tellers, and a still louder
cheer when the numbers were read.'[275]

DEFEAT OF GOVERNMENT

A small incident occurred a few nights later to show that it was indeed
high time to abate the passions of these six years a