ader, and who has now seen occasion to lose his
faith in Parliamentary government. Nor have I seen the picture of "The
Flowing Tide," but I shall expect to find in that picture when I do see
it a number of bathing-machines in which, not the younger generation,
but the elder generation, as I understand are waiting confidently--for
the arrival of the "Flowing Tide," and when it arrives, the elderly
gentlemen who are incarcerated in those machines will be only too
anxious for a man and a horse to come and deliver them from their
imminent peril.

I thought that I detected in the last words of your speech, in proposing
this toast, Mr. President, an accent of gentle reproach that any one
should desert the high and pleasant ways of literature for the turmoil
and the everlasting contention of public life. I do not suppose that
there has ever been a time in which there was less of divorce between
literature and public life than the present time. There have been in the
reign of the Queen two eminent statesmen who have thrice had the
distinction of being Prime Minister, and oddly enough, one of those
statesman (Lord Derby) has left behind him a most spirited version of
Homer, while the other eminent statesman (William E. Gladstone)--happily
still among us, still examines the legends and the significance of
Homer. Then when we come to a period nearer to ourselves, and look at
those gentlemen who have in the last six years filled the office of
Minister for Ireland, we find that no fewer than three (George Otto
Trevelyan, John Morley, and Arthur Balfour) were authors of books
before they engaged in the very ticklish business of the government of
men. And one of these three Ministers for Ireland embarked upon his
literary career--which promised ample distinction--under the editorial
auspices of another of the three. We possess in one branch of the
Legislature the author of the most fascinating literary biography in our
language. We possess also another writer whose range of knowledge and of
intellectual interest is so great that he has written the most important
book upon the American Commonwealth (James Bryce).

The first canon in literature was announced one hundred years ago by an
eminent Frenchman who said that in literature it is your business to
have preferences but no exclusions. In politics it appears to be our
business to have very stiff and unchangeable preferences, and exclusion
is one of the systematic objects of our life