“Buncombe,” again said the voice, and the word was now repeated by a dozen voices.

“Let any one show me that it is Buncombe.  If I say what is untrue, do with me what you please.  If I am ignorant, set me right and laugh at me.  But if what I say is true, then your interruption is surely a sign of imbecility.  I say that the change was forced upon you by the feeling of the people, but that its very expediency has demoralized the army, because the army was irrational.  And how is it with the navy?  What am I to believe when I hear so many conflicting statements among yourselves?” During this last appeal, however, the noise at the back of the hall had become so violent, that the Senator was hardly able to make his voice heard by those immediately around him.  He himself did not quail for a moment, going on with his gestures, and setting down his foot as though he were still confident in his purpose of overcoming all opposition.  He had not much above half done yet.  There were the lawyers before him, and the Civil Service, and the railways, and the commerce of the country, and the labouring classes.  But Lord Drummond and others near him were becoming terrified, thinking that something worse might occur unless an end was put to the proceedings.  Then a superintendent of police came in and whispered to his Lordship.  A crowd was collecting itself in Piccadilly and St. James Street, and perhaps the Senator had better be withdrawn.  The officer did not think that he could safely answer for the consequences if this were carried on for a quarter of an hour longer.  Then Lord Drummond having meditated for a moment, touched the Senator’s arm and suggested a withdrawal into a side room for a minute.  “Mr. Gotobed,” he said, “a little feeling has been excited and we had better put an end to this for the present.”

“Put an end to it?”

“I am afraid we must.  The police are becoming alarmed.”

“Oh, of course; you know best.  In our country a man is allowed to express himself unless he utters either blasphemy or calumny.  But I am in your hands and of course you must do as you please.”  Then he sat down in a corner, and wiped his brows.  Lord Drummond returned to the hall, and there endeavoured to explain that the lecture was over for that night.  The row was so great that it did not matter much what he said, but the people soon understood that the American Senator was not to appear before them again.

It was not much after nine o’clock when the Senator reached his hotel, Lord Drummond having accompanied him thither in a cab.  “Good night, Mr. Gotobed,” said his Lordship.  “I cannot tell you how much I respect both your purpose and your courage;—­but I don’t know how far it is wise for a man to tell any other man, much less a nation, of all his faults.”

“You English tell us of ours pretty often,” said the Senator.

When he found himself alone he thought of it all, giving himself no special credit for what he had done, acknowledging to himself that he had often chosen his words badly and expressed himself imperfectly, but declaring to himself through it all that the want of reason among Britishers was so great, that no one ought to treat them as wholly responsible beings.