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 now[D] 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.
[D] January, 1899.
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.