like flowers over the little oration. Here

is one: "I believe that if Jupiter were to return to earth, and recommence the courtship of Danae, he would woo her in a shower of diplomatic circulars." There were many to praise the speech besides the Duke of Richmond. The Times said it was even more successful than that of the Marquis of Westminster, and that the Earl "spoke with a graceful emotion which became his became his years." "It was evident that if he controlled himself

from dilating on the great events of the autumn, it was not because he was deficient in feeling, but because he was under restraint of a discretion which had been imposed upon him." Another paper said the address was well put together, but that the acoustic properties of the House of Lords were trying for a young speaker, and that Lord Rosebery had not fully mastered them.

pamphlet form, reads much more like an essay and less like a speech than any of his lordship's later utterances. To us at the present day it seems infinitely less interesting, for example, than the address he delivered to the same institution two years ago. Perhaps it suffers from the want of crossheadings. It is a long, historic composition, well prepared, well put together, but rather dull in parts. At the end, he appealed for a

The other great event of the year was his address to the Edinburgh Philosophical Institution at its opening in November. Lord Colonsay, "with his white hair and bushy white eyebrows," a judge who "looked as wise as Thurlow, and was probably much wiser," occupied the chair; and among those on the platform was Professor Blackie. The subject was "The Union of England and Scotland." The address, which was afterwards published in

would remain a generation at all, to effect that union of classes without which power is a phantom and freedom a farce. In these days the rich and the poor look at each other across no impassable gulf." He declared that every individual, merchant and clerk, master and servant, capitalist and artizan, minister and parishioner, might have his share in this glorious work. It must have required some courage to speak out so frankly in the stiff society of West Edinburgh; but Lord Rosebery, at twenty-three, was a sturdy Radical, and he made his practice accord with his precepts. ever more indifferent to social distinctions, more eager to mingle with his fellows on the ground of common humanity. "Come down and do something for the people!" he cried at St.

No man was

James's Hail, when London welcomed. him to the Premiership; but long before that date he had gone amongst the people, mingled with them in their homes, and learned to understand their needs. There is a story of a Clyde engineer who corresponded with him for ten years on all sorts of political, social, and industrial questions, and received several visits from him at his home. One night, as the engineer sat at the fire reading, a knock came to the door, and, when his wife opened it, he was surprised to find that the caller wast Lord Rosebery, whom he recognised from his photograph. His lordship chatted with the children, and conversed with the parents on many subjects of interest. When at length the time came for him to leave, he bade all the household, from the youngest to the eldest, a kind good-bye. On another occasion when he called he found the engineer's daughter busy with her sums. "I don't believe I could do them," he said, looking over her shoulder. "Weel, ye wudia pass the fifth standard,” was the child's grave reply. It was a visit paid to the Clyde shipping works in his teens which made Lord Rosebery a democrat. When he saw the wonderful and delicate machinery which is turned out by artizans, he felt that as brain-workers they could not be inferior to any class in the community.

The Liberalism of his early years found its noblest expression in the address he delivered to the Social Science Congress at Glasgow in 1874. Even the Spectator was almost carried away with enthusiasm, though it truly enough observed that "the omnium gatherumness and the vast

vagueness of the subject he had to descant upon gave no adequate scope to his lively and witty intellect." Lively and witty the address was not

probably was not intended to be. Its topics ranged from compulsory education and temperance reform in Germany to Mormonism and the Paris Commune. But the deep sympathy, the moral earnestness that breathes in every paragraph, are so remarkable, so unusual in our own day among orators of either political party, that we cannot help wishing that Lord Rosebery would oftener give us such speeches now. No wonder that the Congress applauded its young president to the echo, and that many can still recall the enthusiasm he excited. He spoke for two hours in clear, distinct tones, which were perfectly heard by every one. It is said, indeed, that his voice was never heard to greater advantage than on that occasion.

Lord Houghton, the retiring president, was in the chair at the Glasgow Congress, and, in introducing Lord Rosebery, he made a kindly reference to his youth. "If he uses his talents aright, and applies them with industry. and persistence, he will, I doubt not, add to the illustrious roll of the Scotsmen of his age." Lord Houghton's own son, who was afterwards to become Lord Rosebery's son-in-law, was then a boy of

seventeen.

For a contrast to these strenuous labours, let us turn to Lord Rosebery's life in London society. A gossip of the early seventies describes him as "very fresh and pretty, very popular, well dressed, known in the clubs, and under thirty," adding that "he may, if he will,

become a statesman and a personage." He was fond of dancing, and few indeed were the balls of the season to which he was not invited. He is said to have excelled in Scotch reels. The old Dalmeny resident who was my authority for the last statement tells that at birthday balls his lordship insisted that every one of the farmers and their wives should take part in the dancing; and, if any pleaded the excuse of never having learned to dance, he was all the more particular to see that they had partners. In London he went constantly to the theatre, where he is rarely seen now. He was chosen to preside over the banquet to Mr. Toole in 1872 (George Dawson taking the chair at the Birmingham dinner). His speech on that occasion is delightful reading. "Reliable statistics," he remarked, "have proved that no young man of my age has ever spent so much money in stalls to see Mr. Toole as I have." He claimed that there is nothing so English as the drama, and it is not surprising that the theatrical papers of the week overwhelmed him with compliments. In the House of Lords he championed the cause of actors by objecting to the closing of theatres on Ash Wednesday. Why should one class of the community, he asked, be deprived of the right to earn their bread on that day?

Though he never spoke much in Parliament, or ran any risk of becoming tiresome to the Peers, he contrived every session to make one or two speeches, usually on some unexpected and piquant subject. He joined in the discussions on Patronage in the Church of Scotland, explaining that

his own home at Dalmeny had been a focus of ecclesiastical disputes. "If I went out at one door, I met the Queensferry settlement; if I went out at the other, I encountered the Cramond harmonium case." "The temper and disposition of the people of Scotland prevents any ecclesiastical question from being trivial." One of the cleverest speeches he ever made was delivered at the age of twenty-six, in moving for a Royal Commission on the supply of horses. It is in part an elaborate defence of racing, and might, like his later Gimcrack speech, have been entitled, Why I am Tempted to the Turf." He said that gambling was on the decline among owners of race-horses, and that the attempt to abolish gambling by putting down racing would be like trying to abolish rain by suppressing the gutters. "If in the month of September an apprentice empties the till of his master, the circumstance is described as a lamentable case arising from the St. Leger. If an old woman is run over at a crossing during the last week in May, the accident is attributed. to the Derby."

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Lord Granville, who had persuaded Mr. Gladstone in 1870 to see the Derby for the first and (I think) only time, praised the young Earl's wit and cleverness; but it seems a pity that no wise counsellor among the Peers could have persuaded him to give up the dangerous recreation altogether. A strong vein of Radicalism runs through his speeches at that time. He opposed the Royal Titles Bill, by which Mr. Disraeli gave the Queen the title of Empress of India; and it is not a little surprising to learn that public meetings had been held in all

the great towns of England in opposition to this measure. These various speeches won for Lord Rosebery a Parliamentary reputation, and in 1876 he was already described as the most rising politician of the day, who could not be omitted from any Liberal Cabinet of the future.

The late Prebendary Rogers used to tell how Lord Rosebery joined him in petitioning the Duke of Wellington to open Apsley House on Sunday afternoons, so that the public might see the pictures. The Duke and Mr. Rogers met in the Park, and began to speak about the memorial. "Among all these signatures," said the Duke, "I find only one respectable name, and that is your own." Mr. Rogers replied that Dean Stanley had signed. "Oh," said the Duke, "I don't call him respectable." "Well, but there is Lord Rosebery." "I don't think much of him," answered the

Duke; "but as you assure me it is all right, I will see what can be done." It was finally agreed that visitors should be admitted, on condition that they wiped their feet on the mats and did not sit down on the sofas.

Years before his marriage Lord Rosebery wished to have an English country home. He thought of taking Burwood Park, near Weybridge, but eventually chose The Durdans, at Epsom, formerly the property of Sir Gilbert Heathcote. The story of his first visit to the estate has more than once been told. "It was a beautiful day in summer, and the bright sun lighted up the undulating grounds and ancient trees of The Durdans with its golden rays, setting off the sloping banks, the shrubbery, and the grassy meadows to the utmost advantage. A wood pigeon flew across the glade, and alighted upon a neighbouring