epresentation of Newark, he had given up his seat,
and did not come into Parliament again until the struggle was over. At
the general elections in 1847, Mr. Gladstone, still accepted as a Tory,
was chosen one of the representatives for the University of Oxford.

Up to the time of the abolition of the Corn Laws, or at least of the
movement which led to their abolition, Mr. Gladstone had been a Tory of
a rather old-fashioned school. The corn-law agitation probably first set
him thinking over the possible defects of the social and legislative
system, and showed him the necessity for reform at least in one
direction. The interests of religion itself at one time seemed to him to
be bound up with the principles of the Tory party; and no doubt there
was a period of his career when the principle of protection would have
seemed to him as sacred as any other part of the creed. With a mind like
his, inquiry once started, must go on. There was always something
impetuous in the workings of his intellect, as well as the rush of his
sympathy. He startled Europe, and indeed the whole civilized world, by
the terrible and only too truthful description which he gave, in 1851,
of the condition of the prisons of Naples under the king who was known
by the nickname of "Bomba," and the cruelties which were inflicted on
political prisoners in particular. Again and again, in Mr. Gladstone's
public life we shall see him carried away by the same generous and
passionate emotion on behalf of the victims of despotic cruelty in any
part of the world. Burke himself could not be more sympathetic, more
earnest, or more strong.

By the death of Sir Robert Peel, in 1850, Mr. Gladstone had lost a
trusted leader, and a dear friend. But the loss of his leader had
brought Gladstone himself more directly to the front. It was not till
after Peel's death that he compelled the House of Commons and the
country to recognize in him a supreme master of parliamentary debate.
The first really great speech made by Mr. Gladstone in Parliament--the
first speech which would fairly challenge comparison with any of the
finest speeches of a past day--was made in the debate on Mr. Disraeli's
budget in the winter of 1852, the first session of the new Parliament.
Mr. Disraeli knew well that his government was doomed to fall. He knew
that it could not survive that debate. It was always one of Mr.
Disraeli's peculiarities that he could fight most brilliantly when he
knew that his