He

two on a critical division. Mr. Lucy has recorded a conversation he had with Lord Rosebery on the night of the defeat, which shows how far from the Premier's mind was any intention of betraying the cause of Ireland. dwelt on the significant fact that whilst in 1886 the majority of members returned by English constituencies adverse to Home Rule was 215, in 1892 it was reduced to seventy-one. "Let Ireland," he says, “remain quiet, let the Irish members in the present House of Commons work loyally with the English Liberals in bringing up the arrears of legislation demanded by the English electorate, and the conversion of England to Home Rule, which has already advanced by leaps and bounds, will go on to the end, obliterating the remainder of the overwhelming anti-Irish vote which in 1886 hurled Mr. Gladstone from power and swamped the Liberal party. If, on the contrary, the Irish members, not being able to get their own way in exactly their own time, play into the hands of the Conservatives and turn out the Liberal party, who have sacrificed everything for their cause, and if agrarian outrage becomes again rampant in Ireland,-well, there is an end of Home Rule for the present generation."

The Daily Chronicle thought Lord Rosebery had started a little prematurely with a phrase too straight and strong for the average House of Commons politician, but urged the Government to take no notice of the check. Punch, which had pictured the young Premier riding into the lists in the armour of a medieval knight-" from spur to plume a star of tournament "-now sang "Waly,

waly, oh!" for his momentary discomfiture by a jester.

Such a jester's best jest is at best bitter-sweet," and this annoying little rebuff was an inauspicious début for the reconstructed Cabinet. "Lord Rosebery's Indiscretion" became a standing headline in some newspapers, and a story was circulated by the superstitious to the effect that the Premier had been seen to slip and almost fall on his way to the House of Lords on the fateful afternoon!

On the Saturday evening of that week he addressed a gathering of over 4,000 people in the Corn Exchange, Edinburgh. He took the long journey from Euston on the same day, travelling alone in a first-class carriage. Inquisitive watchers at railway stations saw that he was busily occupied in writing, and that the compartment was strewn with papers.

His

The international football match took place that afternoon in Edinburgh, and it was hoped Lord Rosebery would come north on the Friday and after a night's rest at Dalmeny spend the hours before his meeting in watching the game. For this, however, he was too busy. carriage was detached from the train. before reaching the Waverley Station, and drawn by a special engine, gaily decorated with flags, to the reception platform, at the west end of Princes Street. Sir John Cowan and other leading Liberals awaited him. He looked weary after his long journey, but was gratified with the magnificent ovation he received from the crowd, and stood up bareheaded in his carriage in acknowledgment of the continuous cheers.

There is no need to summarise the

speech, but I may quote as suitable for

this biography the pathetic sentences at the close, which bound him more closely than ever to the hearts of Edinburgh citizens. "If I had to come anywhere, where should I come but here? You sent me into the world of politics, you made me what I am; you have associated yourselves with every incident of my life; you have rejoiced with my joy, you have mourned with my grief. Could I then do better? Could I then do anything else at this supreme crisis of my fate and fortune, than to ask you once more for your God-speed, for your blessing, for your encouragement in the arduous task I have undertaken ?"

After the meeting he drove to the Council Chamber and attended the dinner given by the Lord Provost to the Scottish team. On Sunday the Premier rested at Dalmeny, attending service at his Parish Church in the morning. On leaving, he shook hands with two of the elders.

One other event of this memorable month must not be forgotten. A meeting was held in St. James's Hall to express "London's welcome to England's Premier." It was perhaps the most successful public meeting that Lord Rosebery has ever addressed. Mr. Asquith and other colleagues were beside him on the platform, and the hall

was crowded with London Liberal workers. Never, while life lasts, will some who were present forget the ideal set before them by Lord Rosebery.

"I believe," he said, "that people are now inclining to think that politics is not merely a game, in which the pawns are too often sacrificed to the knights and castles, but a living and ennobling effort to carry into public life the principles of the highest morality. I believe that Governments will be increasingly judged by that test. . . I for one shall not despair some day to see a Minister, Prime or otherwise, who will come down from the platform of party and speak straight to the hearts of his fellow-countrymen-speak to them as Sir Robert Peel spoke when he was

hurled from power for cheapening the bread of the people. Were that Minister here to-night, he would, I imagine, ask you not to save his Cabinet or himself, but to make a supreme effort to save yourselves."

These are broken fragments from a passage which, as delivered, seemed to the audience to touch the height of oratory. Hazlitt says that in his judgment no man born or bred in Scotland can be a great orator, unless he is a mere quack, or a great statesman, unless he turns plain knave. "The national gravity is against the first, the national caution against the second." Hazlitt might have reversed his judgment if he had heard Lord Rosebery on that March evening at St. James's Hall.