chment. There has not been one for a long time; but I
have an idea that the victim of the process is called before the House
of Lords and beheaded. How far recent legislation may have curtailed
the powers of the House of Lords in the matter I do not know; but
even under our new constitution impeachment must remain a very serious
matter. It was, we all felt, most heroic of Babberly to face this kind
of undefined doom in the way he did.

This was the last thing which Babberly said in his speech. He talked a
great deal more, but he did not say anything else which it is possible
to write down. I do not think I have ever heard any public speaker
equal to Babberly in eloquence. He gave one incontestable proof of his
power as an orator that day in Belfast. He must have spoken for very
nearly an hour, and yet no one noticed that he was not saying anything
for the greater part of the time. I did not notice it, and probably
should never have found it out if I had not tried afterwards to write
down what he said.

After Babberly came the Dean. I suffer a great deal from the Dean's
sermons on Sundays; but I thoroughly enjoyed his speech. He is not
Babberly's rival in eloquence; but he has a knack of saying the kind
of things which people listen to. He began by telling us what he would
do if he found himself in command of the forces of Ulster at the
beginning of a great war. "Lord Moyne," he said, "should organize my
transport and commissariat."

I cannot imagine any job at which Moyne would be more certain to fail
totally. But the Dean justified himself.

"I have stopped in Lord Moyne's house," he said, "and I know how well
he manages the food supply of a large establishment. My friend Mr.
Babberly should draw up the plan of campaign. His cautious intellect
should devise the schemes for circumventing the wiles and stratagems
of the enemy. He should map out the ambuscades into which the
opposing troops should fall. You have listened to Mr. Babberly to-day.
You will agree with me about his fitness for the work to which I
should put him."

I had listened to Babberly and I did not agree with the Dean. But I
formed one of a very small minority. Moyne began to look uneasy. It
seemed to me that he did not much like this military metaphor of the
Dean's. I imagine that he would have been still more uncomfortable if
he had been obliged to take an active part in a campaign planned by
Babberly.

"For the command of a forlorn hope," said