“Above a world his contemplative gaze
  Peruses, finding little there to praise!”

But though he might find little enough to “praise” in a world which had departed so widely from the traditions of his youth, still, this prevailing gloom was lightened, often at very unexpected moments, by flashes of delicious humour, sarcastic but not savage.  No one excelled him in the art of making an opponent look ridiculous.  Careless critics called him “cynical,” but it was an abuse of words.  Cynicism is shamelessness, and not a word ever fell from Lord Salisbury which was inconsistent with the highest ideals of patriotic statesmanship.

He was by nature as shy as he was short-sighted.  He shrank from new acquaintances, and did not always detect old friends.  His failure to recognize a young politician who sat in his Cabinet, and a zealous clergyman whom he had just made a Bishop, supplied his circle with abundant mirth, which was increased when, at the beginning of the South African War, he was seen deep in military conversation with Lord Blyth, under the impression that he was talking to Lord Roberts.

But, in spite of these impediments to social facility, he was an admirable host both at Hatfield and in Arlington Street—­courteous, dignified, and only anxious to put everyone at their ease.  His opinions were not mine, and it always seemed to me that he was liable to be swayed by stronger wills than his own.  But he was exactly what he called Gladstone, “a great Christian statesman.”

VII

LORD ROSEBERY

It was in December, 1885, that the present Lord Gladstone; in conjunction with the late Sir Wemyss Reid, sent up “the Hawarden Kite.”  After a lapse of thirty-two years, that strange creature is still flapping about in a stormy sky; and in the process of time it has become a familiar, if not an attractive, object.  But the history of its earlier gyrations must be briefly recalled.

The General Election of 1885 had just ended in a tie, the Liberals being exactly equal to the combined Tories and Parnellites.  Suddenly the Liberals found themselves committed, as far as Gladstone could commit them, to the principle of Home Rule, which down to that time they had been taught to denounce.  Most of them followed their leader, but many rebelled.  The Irish transferred their votes in the House to the statesman whom—­as they thought—­they had squeezed into compliance with their policy, and helped him to evict Lord Salisbury after six months of office.  Gladstone formed a Government, introduced a Home Rule Bill, split his party in twain, was defeated in the House of Commons, dissolved Parliament, and was soundly beaten at the General Election which he had precipitated.  Lord Salisbury became Prime Minister for the second time, and ruled, with great authority and success, till the summer of 1892.