or some time. "Dustheaps!" he was heard to be muttering
several times in succession, as if the word positively choked him.
Indeed, throughout Mr. Asquith's speech, whenever the allusions were
made to him, Joe was seen to be muttering under his teeth. It was the
running commentary which he made on the most effective attack that has
been uttered against him; it was the highest tribute to the severity and
success of the assailant.

[Sidenote: Limp Balfour.]

Badly as Mr. Chamberlain bore his punishment, Mr. Balfour was even
worse. It is seldom that the House of Commons has seen a more remarkable
or more effective retort than the happy, dexterous, delightful--from
the literary point of view, unsurpassable--parody which Mr. Asquith made
of Mr. Balfour's flagitious incitements to the men of Belfast. Mr.
Asquith put the case of Mr. Morley going down to a crowd in Cork, and
using the same kind of language. Mr. Balfour, in his speech, had over
and over again used the name of the Deity. "I pray God," said the pious
leader of the Tory party, as he addressed the Orangemen. When, in the
imaginary speech which Mr. Asquith put into the mouth of Mr. Morley, he
recurred again and again to the phrase, "I pray God," there was just the
least lifting of the eyes and lowering of the voice to the sanctimonious
level of the Pharisee which made this part of the speech not merely a
fine piece of oratory, but a splendid bit of acting. Mr. Balfour's
appearance during this portion of Mr. Asquith's speech was pitiable. His
face, with its pallor--look of abashed pain--was tell-tale of the inner
shame which he felt, as thus calmly, coldly, cruelly--with extraordinary
art, and amid a tempest of cheers--he was brought by his opponent face
to face with realities which lay underneath his bland and oily phrases.

[Sidenote: Another unmannerly interruption.]

In the midst of the calm and stately flow of Mr. Asquith's speech, while
the House, spellbound, listened in awe-struck and rapt silence,
suddenly, there was a commotion, a shout, then the roar of many voices.
The whole thing came upon the House with a bewildering and dumbfounding
surprise; it was as if someone had suddenly died, or some other sinister
catastrophe had occurred. In a moment, several Irish members--Mr. Swift
McNeill, Mr. Crilly, and others--were on their feet, shouting in accents
hoarse with anger, inarticulate with rage. The Speaker was also on his
feet, and, for a while, his shouts o