When, in March, 1894, upon the retirement of Mr. Gladstone from public life, the Liberal party looked about, not for that impossible man who could fill his place, but for a new leader, it is a matter of recent history that the choice fell on Lord Rosebery. Mr. McCarthy has described minutely the rather intricate reasons for this choice: suffice it to say here that Lord Rosebery was summoned to the Premiership both as a compromise candidate and as the most popular Liberal before the country.

Lord Rosebery, Earl of Primrose, was a Premier who had never sat in the Lower House. Educated at Eton and Christchurch, as a minor he had succeeded to the title and hereditary seat among the Lords. As the first Chairman of the London County Council (1888), and twice as Secretary for Foreign Affairs (1886, 1892), he had shown marked abilities for public business. In the latter office, for instance, he had often worked eighteen hours a day. Nor were industry and position his only qualifications for the high honor. In the full sense of the word, Lord Rosebery was a versatile man. He had some claims to virtuosity in the arts of painting and sculpture. He had written a good deal, and creditably; he had spoken much, and well. But above all, to these accomplishments he had added an avocation perhaps the most sympathetic to the English popular mind,—the cult of the turf. As a boy, indeed, Lord Rosebery is said to have set upon at least two objects to be attained in life: the possession of the Premiership and the owning of a Derby winner. Both have already been his.

The appointment, then, so far as personal reasons went, was generally popular; but, like most compromises, it did not entirely suit the party. Lord Rosebery, though one of the comparatively few Peers in favor of Home Rule, was not so ardent or optimistic a supporter of the cause as many Liberals could have wished. Certainly his advocacy was luke-warm as compared with the consecrated fire of Mr. Gladstone’s attack. Further, he was known to be conservative in a matter upon which many of his party felt strongly, the abridgment of the powers of the Lords—here again less truly Liberal than the retiring leader.

The term of office begun under these dubious auspices was marked by no sensational episodes save its finish. A revival of the old proposal to erect a statue of Cromwell within the Parliament precincts awoke a spirited remonstrance from Ireland. From this proposal the Government quietly withdrew. Beyond this, very little happened until, suddenly, consequent to a debate precipitated upon the supply of cordite to the army, a division disclosed the Government defeated (June 24, 1895) by a majority of seven. Thus ended a Ministry begun in compromise, continued without real coherence, and shipwrecked on the most trivial of points. Mr. McCarthy has wittily and well described this fiasco as “The Cordite Explosion.”

The resignations of the Ministry followed; and Lord Rosebery was relieved from a post which could not have been agreeable to him, but in which he had probably done the best possible. “A house divided against itself—” The ensuing elections returned Lord Salisbury and the Conservatives to the control of affairs which they still retain.

This slight sketch should show that to Lord Rosebery the real moment has not yet arrived. Still comparatively a young man, and in so many ways the type of a great Liberal Peer, more than ever he is the logical leader of his party. Although that party nowD shows signs of a disintegration probably momentary, the ebb and flow of politics are proverbial. When the tide sets the other way, it is not hazardous to predict that it will be Lord Rosebery who again commands the Liberals.

As a speaker, the style of Lord Rosebery will be found to be thoroughly modern,—suave, easy, and unimpassioned. In a degree denied to Mr. Chamberlain, Lord Rosebery has the gift of the phrase. The current and rather picturesque catchword, England’s “Splendid Isolation,” indeed was not his; but one example of his power to crystallize a great tendency in compact form is his reference to that wise British policy of building for the future in Africa, or whatever barbarous land. It is “Pegging out Claims for Posterity,” he says. It could hardly be more aptly turned.