The Speaker then put the main question, that leave be given to bring in the Bill, when Mr. J. McCarthy rose to speak, but the Speaker declined to hear him, and there were loud cries of "Order" on the Ministerial side of the House. The Home Rulers stood up, and for some time, with raised hand, shouted, "Privilege!" and then, having bowed to the Chair, left the House.
[THE DEATH OF BEACONSFIELD (1881).]
I.
Source.—The Times, April 20.
The end really corresponded to the beginning, and both were alike exceptional.... It must have been an ideal and living world that home life introduced Benjamin Disraeli to. It was in this that he acquired his repertory of parts and character; his caps fit for wearers; his motley for those it suited; his titles of little honour; his stage tricks and artifices; his gibes and jests that Yorick might have overflowed with in the spirit of his age; and his unfailing consciousness of a knowledge and power ever sufficient for the occasion.... The new deliverer of the Conservatives presented himself as a magician, master of many spells, charged with all the secrets of the political creation, ready to control the winds and the tides of opinion and faction, sounding the very depths of political possibility, and with a touch of his wand able to leave a mark on any foe or wanton intruder. The plea was necessity. Fortunately for Lord Beaconsfield, the age of consistency is no more. Sir Robert Peel destroyed that idol, and in doing so sacrificed himself. Lord Beaconsfield advanced to power over his body.
II.
Source.—The Times, April 22, 1881.
It is finely said by Bacon of death that "it openeth the gate to good fame and extinguisheth envy...." It is singularly true of Lord Beaconsfield, whose fate it was to interest all men, to puzzle most, and to provoke the antagonism of many. Certainly no English statesman, since the death of Lord Palmerston, has occupied so prominent a position or excited so deep an interest on the Continent of Europe. His secret lay perhaps in the magnetic influence of a dauntless will, in his unrivalled powers of patience, in his impenetrable reserve and detachment. If we compare the beginning of his political life with its close, and note how its unchastened audacity was gradually toned down into the coolest determination and the most dispassionate tenacity, we shall see how the magnificent victory he achieved over himself gave him power to govern others, to withstand their opposition, and to bend their wills to his own. This is what Continental observers saw in him—unrivalled strength of will and dauntless tenacity of purpose—and this is why they admired him. The sense of mystery engendered the sense of power, and foreigners freely admired where Englishmen were often puzzled and at times almost bewildered.