evidently of bitter scornfulness addressed to Sir Henry James, and once there seemed even to be an angry interchange between him and Mr. Courtney because Mr. Courtney had ventured to put a civil question to Mr. Morley.  Mr. Morley had to address a few words of hearty congratulation to Mr. Austen Chamberlain on his very successful speech.  He spoke with the slowness, hesitation, and effort that betrayed a certain glimpse of the pain and grief that the political separations of life produce in all but the hardest and coldest natures.  It was a graceful, generous, feeling tribute, but it did not soften Mr. Chamberlain—­the same steady unlifting frown was there—­the same “puss”—­and when Mr. Morley had finished, there was a repetition of the evidently scornful comment of Mr. Chamberlain.

[Sidenote:  A hit at Mr. Chamberlain.]

But Mr. Morley may well bear all this, for he was able to strike some very effective blows at Mr. Chamberlain, and Mr. Chamberlain for a hard-hitter has a wonderfully keen appreciation and a very sensitive skin for anything like a dexterous hit at his own expense.  Alluding to the favourite argument of Mr. Chamberlain, that the speeches of Irish members in the past may have been deplorable, Mr. Morley asked were they the only people who had made such speeches?  They might be repentant sinners, but who so great a prodigal as the member for Birmingham?  The loud and triumphant laughter which this produced at the expense of Mr. Chamberlain, was followed up by another even more victorious thrust.  The Irish members had abandoned prairie value in the same way as the member for Birmingham had surrendered the doctrines of “ransom” and natural rights.  Mr. Chamberlain was very uncomfortable, and soon showed it by an interrupting cheer.  “Seriously,” said Mr. Morley, passing from this lighter, but very effective vein.  And then he was interrupted by his foe.  “Hear, hear,” shouted Mr. Chamberlain in that deep, raucous, fierce note, in which he reveals the fierceness of his hatred, as though to say that it was time for Mr. Morley to address himself to serious things.

[Sidenote:  Mr. Sexton.]

So the debate proceeded during the earlier part of the week; as it neared its close it increased in brilliancy, until in the last night it went out in a blaze of splendour and glory.  On the Thursday evening Mr. Sexton was the speaker.  He made a speech which was two hours and a half in duration; it was in my opinion too long—­I think that except in the most exceptional cases no orator ought to speak more than half an hour.  And yet I would not have had the speech shorter by one second; and it is a singular proof of the extraordinary command which this man holds over the House of Commons that he kept its attention absolutely without a moment’s pause or cessation, during every bit of this tremendous strain upon his attention.  With the exception of Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Sexton is the one man in the House who is capable of such a feat.  This is largely