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Lord Morley Of Blackburn
LORD MORLEY is the only double first of his time. He is perhaps the only double first since Burke. Other men have won distinction in more than one field. Canning wrote verse. Disraeli wrote novels. Macaulay was an orator and a historian as well as a statesman. Gladstone discussed Homer as vehemently as he discussed Home Rule.
The Bishop Of London
BISHOP CREIGHTON wrote the History of the Papacy; his successor preached on When it was Dark. The fact is significant of much. We hear a good deal to-day of the poverty of the Church. The poverty is real; but it is not the poverty of money: it is the poverty of men. The Church shares the national bankruptcy.
Prince Bülow
ON some rising ground by the port of Hamburg there is a statue, rude, colossal, looking out over the landscape. In its suggestion of brutality and force it is incomparable. It stands out against the sky like a ruthless menace, and in fancy one sees a sea of blood surging at the base. It is the statue of Bismarck looking out over the Germany that he welded with blood and iron.
Lord Rosebery
IN the early days of the Fiscal controversy I was dining with two politicians at the table of a mutual friend in the Temple. The politicians - one a Peer and the other a Commoner had been and still were Liberal Imperialists; both are now in the Government. The talk turned, as it always did in those days, on the prospects of a C.-B. or a Rosebery Cabinet.
General Booth
WHEN Generai Booth rises to receive you in his office in Queen Victoria Street, the first impression you have is of the alertness of the lithe, lean form in its frogged coat with the legend Blood and Fire blazing in red letters below the reverend white beard. The second impression comes from the eye. Certain men live in the memory by the quality of the eye alone.
Lord Loreburn
LORD LOREBURN started life with two enormous advantages. He was a Scotsman and he was known as Bob Reid. To be born a Scotsman is to be born with a silver spoon in the mouth. It is to be born, as it were, into the governing family. We English are the hewers of wood and drawers of water for our Caledonian masters.
Thomas Hardy
A FRIEND of mine one of those people described by Keats as being married to a romance and given away by a sonnet stopped in the course of a pilgrimage in Wessex at the hotel of a small market town. As he waited for lunch he discussed men and things with a farmer, a cheerful, bucolic soul, whose name may have been Gabriel Oak.
Henry Chaplin
I LOVE to sit in the Gallery on a sleepy afternoon and watch Mr. Henry Chaplin looking after the affairs of the Empire. Near him, on the Front Opposition Bench, Mr. Balfour reclines with an air of graceful indolence, and, beyond, Mr. Walter Long gently dozes, his arms folded, his head sunk back upon the cushion, his ruddy October face giving a touch of warmth and colour to the scene.
Lord Curzon
LORD CURZON would have been a great man if he could occasionally have forgotten Lord Curzon. Health is always unconscious of itself. It is not until sickness that one is aware of the body. It is not until a nation has lost its freedom that it becomes conscious of itself and the spirit of nationalism burns like a fever in the blood. And the mind in perfect health is equally self-forgetful.
Winston Churchill
IT was a quarter to twelve, midnight. Mr. Balfour was once more at bay, defending his tottering Ministry from collapse. The immediate point was a certain closure resolution. What were the terms? It was vital to the Opposition that they should know, and know to-night. Mr. Balfour fenced and feinted. He would not give the conditions. He would hand them to the Clerk on the adjournment.
The Rev. R. J. Campbell
WHETHER to friend or foe, the Rev. R. J. Campbell is one of the most arresting personalities in the London of our time. He is the voice of disquiet and of challenge. He is the disturber of our comfortable peace. He hurries with breathless eagerness from point to point, the lighted torch ever in his hand, the trail of conflagration ever in his wake.
The Speaker
WHEN Murray complained to Byron that some of his poetry was dull, Byron replied: You can no more have poetry all gems than a midnight all stars. So it is with the House of Commons. Ordinarily it is a very dull place. There is a general air of lassitude and weariness. The benches are thinly peopled with men who seem tired of each other's company.
Herbert Samuel
AT an Eighty Club dinner not long ago I was seated beside the Chairman, who chanced to be Mr. Herbert Samuel. It was what is known as a House Dinner an occasion of more or less informal debate on a given political subject of the moment. Those who desire to speak are requested to send up their names to the steward, who, on this occasion, was myself.
The Tsar
I WAS sitting in my room one day in March last year when Miss Clementina Black and Madame Stepniak called on me with a young man dressed in the garb of a workman. He was very fair, and his light blue eyes had that look of childlike simplicity and frankness that goes straight to the heart. It was a look that seemed to leave nothing to be told.
Dr. Horton
WHEN you enter the church at Lyndhurst Road you are conscious if you happen to be sensitive to atmosphere - of a certain subdued note of expectancy. The impression grows as the service advances. There is a breath on the face of the waters the subtle breath of personality. Perhaps the key is minor, appealing, poignant.
Philip Snowden
IT was the eve of the General Election of 1900. The Khaki fever was at its height, and Liberalism at the lowest ebb of its fortunes. Nowhere was it lower than at Blackburn. For twenty years the capital of the weaving trade had been a stronghold of Conservatism, and now there was no Liberal with sufficient courage even to challenge it.
Robert Burdon Haldane
LIFE, it has been said, is a comedy to him who thinks and a tragedy to him who feels. Judged by this axiom, Mr. Haldane is the man who thinks. He bathes the world in wreathed smiles and floods it with infectious good humour. He seems to go through life humming softly to himself.
John Burns
I WAS walking one evening along the Embankment when I overtook John Burns. The night was cold, but he wore neither overcoat nor gloves, for he scorns both as the trappings of effeminate luxury. He carried under his arm a huge bound volume of the Phalanx, a Labour journal of long ago, which he had just picked up at a bookstall.
William Jennings Bryan
IT was a wonderful apparition of vitality that burst in on me one morning at the Hotel Cecil, where I had called to breakfast with William Jennings Bryan. Now, sir, he said with that air of plunging straight into business so characteristic of the American, I find my resolution at the Inter-Parliamentary Conference is down for 9.30, and to save time I've had breakfast early.
Lewis Harcourt
Today Mr. Harcourt stands out as one of the three men in the Liberal Party to whom all things seem possible. Political life never furnished a more startling contrast in temperament and outlook than two of those three furnish the one eager, restless, inquiring, passionate, modern as the morning's news-sheet, drinking life in great feverish draughts.
Augustine Birrell, K.C.
IF a vote were taken in the House of Commons on the question of the most popular member, it is certain that Mr. Augustine Birrell's name would be in the first half-dozen. For Mr. Birrell is an impostor who has been found out. He affects to be a very gruff and menacing person. He looks fiercely at you from below his corrugated brows.
Rudyard Kipling
MR. RUDYARD KIPLING is the first Englishman to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. He is the first Englishman to be crowned in the Court of Literary Europe. He is chosen as our representative man of letters, while George Meredith, Thomas Hardy, and Algernon Charles Swinburne are still amongst us. The goldsmiths are passed by and the literary blacksmith is exalted.
Gilbert K. Chesterton
Mr. Chesterton is the most conspicuous figure in the landscape of literary London. He is like a visitor out of some fairy tale, a legend in the flesh, a survival of the childhood of the world. Most of us are the creatures of our time, thinking its thoughts, wearing its clothes, rejoicing in its chains. If we try to escape from the temporal tyranny, it is through the gate of revolt that we go.
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