Lord Robert Cecil, the son of the late Lord Salisbury,—­that same Lord Salisbury whose combats with Secretary Blaine and Secretary Olney form piquant chapters in British-American history—­is one of the most able and respected of British statesmen.  In his earlier life Lord Salisbury had been somewhat overbearing in his attitude toward the United States; in his later years, however, perhaps owing to the influence of his nephew, Mr. Balfour, his manner had changed.  In his attitude toward the United States Lord Robert Cecil reflected only the later phases of his father’s career.  To this country and to its peaceful ideals he had always been extremely sympathetic, and to Page especially he had never manifested anything but cordiality.  Yet it was evident, as Page came into his office this morning, that to Lord Robert, as to every member of the Government, the President’s note, with its equivocal phrases, had been a terrible shock.  His manner was extremely courteous, as always, but he made no attempt to conceal his feelings.  Ordinarily Lord Robert did not wear his emotions on the surface; but he took occasion on this visit to tell Page how greatly the President’s communication had grieved him.

“The President,” he said, “has seemed to pass judgment on the allied cause by putting it on the same level as the German.  I am deeply hurt.”

Page conveyed Mr. Lansing’s message that no such inference was justified.  But this was not reassuring.

“Moreover,” Lord Robert added, “there is one sentence in the note—­that in which the President says that the position of neutrals is becoming intolerable—­that seems almost a veiled threat.”

Page hastened to assure Lord Robert that no threat was intended.

Lord Robert’s manner became increasingly serious.

“There is nothing that the American Government or any other human power can do,” he remarked slowly and solemnly, “which will bring this war to a close before the Allies have spent their utmost force to secure a victory.  A failure to secure such a victory will leave the world at the mercy of the most arrogant and the bloodiest tyranny that has ever been organized.  It is far better to die in an effort to defeat that tyranny than to perish under its success.”

On any occasion Lord Robert is an impressive or at least a striking and unusual figure; he is tall, lank, and ungainly, almost Lincolnesque in the carelessness of his apparel and the exceeding awkwardness of his postures and manners.  His angular features, sharp nose, pale face, and dark hair suggest the strain of ascetism, almost of fanaticism, which runs in the present generation of his family.  And the deep sincerity and power of his words on this occasion made an impression which Page never forgot; they transformed the British statesman into an eloquent, almost an heroic figure.  If we are to understand the full tragedy of this moment we must remember that, incredible as it now seems, there was a fear in British officialdom