[Sidenote: A great eirenicon.]
The paper which contained the list of pairs for the night was crammed
with the names of members from both sides, who, anticipating a debate of
hours' duration, had wisely resolved to spend the interval between the
motion and a division in the bosoms of their families--miles away from
the floor of the House of Commons. The Whips had prepared their
followers for a big division somewhere about midnight. And, lo! on all
this vast and turbulent sea of conflicting waves the Prime Minister
poured half an hour of oratorical oil, and the waters were stilled, and
the great deep at perfect rest. In other words, Mr. Goschen threw away
his notes; Labby advised Sir Charles Dilke not to go to a division; the
debate had not begun and then it was over, and all that followed was
addressed to a House empty of everybody. The Old Man--dexterous, calm,
instinctive--had spoken the right word to meet every view, and there was
nothing more for anybody to say. There is nobody else in the House who
can do it; when his voice is stilled, the greatest of all Parliamentary
secrets will die with him--the secret of saying the exact thing in the
most difficult and embarrassing of situations.
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