eal. Like the modest
person in the hymn, "all it asks for is enough"; and in such a scene as
that which raged round the Irish indictment of the _Times_ for breach of
privilege it found sufficiency. There are only two, or at most three,
men in the House who could have kept the audience together after the
prolonged excitement sprung upon it. Very few left their seats when, at
six o'clock, Lord Randolph Churchill appeared at the table.

[Illustration: "PITEOUS NERVOUSNESS."]

What had just happened, taken in conjunction with this peculiar
position, plainly told upon him. He was nervous, occasionally to the
point of being inaudible, and did not mend matters by violently thumping
the box at the precise moment when otherwise the conclusion of his
sentence might have been heard. Some people said in their haste he was
but the shadow of his former self, and that he had done well all these
years to remain in the background. But the faults of this speech were
all of manner. Those who listened closely, with whatever painful effort,
recognised in it the old straightforward, vigorous blows, the keen
insight, the lucid statement, the lofty standpoint from which the whole
question was viewed with the gaze of a statesman rather than with the
squint of a politician. Those whose opportunities were limited to
reading a full report of the speech perceived even more clearly that
Lord Randolph had lost none of his ancient power, had even, with added
years and garnered experience, grown in weighty counsel.

His second speech, delivered on the Welsh Suspensory Bill, being free
from the accidental circumstances that handicapped his first effort,
confirmed this impression. Reassured in his position, confident of his
powers, encouraged by a friendly audience, he equalled any of the
earlier efforts that established his fame.

What will happen to Lord Randolph in the future is a matter which, I
believe, depends entirely upon the state of his physical health. I have
written elsewhere, with perhaps tiresome iteration through the six years
he has been wilfully trying to lose himself in the wilderness, that he
might win or regain any prize in public life to the attainment of which
he chose seriously to devote himself. His indispensability to the
Conservative party is testified to by the eagerness with which hands are
held out to him at the earliest indication of desire to return to the
fold. That by his loyalty to the party he has earned such conside