when presented was found to include claims for vast and indeed almost limitless damages, for indirect losses alleged to be caused by the cruise of the Alabama and the other vessels. The loss by the transfer of trade to English vessels, the loss by increased rates of insurance, and all imaginable losses incident to the prolongation of the war, were now made part of the American claims. It was clear that if such a principle were admitted there was no possible reason why the claims should not include every dollar spent in the whole operations of the war and in supplying any of the war's damages, from the first day when the Alabama put to sea. Even men like Mr. Bright, who had been devoted friends of the North during the war, protested against this insufferable claim. It was indeed a profound mistake. The arbitration was on the point of being broken off. The excitement in England was intense. The American Government had at last to withdraw the claims. The Geneva arbitrators of their own motion declared that all such claims were invalid and contrary to international law.

The decision of the Geneva Tribunal went against England. The court were unanimous in finding England responsible for the acts of the Alabama. A majority found her responsible for the acts of the Florida and for some of those of the Shenandoah, but not responsible for those of other vessels. They awarded a sum of about three millions and a quarter sterling as compensation for all losses and final settlement of all claims including interest. The German Emperor decided in favour of the American claim to the small island of San Juan, near Vancouver's Island, a question remaining unsettled since the Oregon Treaty. San Juan had for years been in a somewhat hazardous condition of joint occupation by England and the United States. It was evacuated by England, in consequence of the award, at the close of November 1873.

The principle of arbitration had not thus far worked in a manner calculated greatly to delight the English people. In each case the award had gone decidedly against them. No doubt it had gone against them because the right of each case was against them; and those who submit to arbitration have no business to complain because the decision is not given in their favour. However that may be, it is certain that the effect of the Geneva arbitration was to create a sore and angry feeling among Englishmen in general. The feeling found expression with some; smouldered in sullenness with others.

It was unreasonable and unjust; but it was not altogether unnatural; and it had its effect on the popularity of Mr. Gladstone's Government.

The opening of the Session of 1872 was made melancholy by the announcement that Lord Mayo, the Viceroy of India, had been killed by a fanatical assassin in a convict settlement, on one of the Andaman Islands which the Viceroy was inspecting. Lord Mayo had borne himself well in his difficult position, and had won the admiration of men of all parties by his firmness, his energy, his humanity and his justice.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE FALL OF THE GREAT ADMINISTRATION.

THE Liberal Ministry continued somehow to fall off in popularity. Mr. Gladstone was profoundly serious in his purposes of reform; and very serious men are seldom popular in a society like that of London. The long series of bold and vigorous reforms was undoubtedly causing the public to lose its breath. The inevitable reaction was setting in. No popularity, no skill, no cunning in the management of men, no quality or endowment on the part of the Prime Minister, could have wholly prevented that result. Mr. Gladstone was not cunning in the management of men. He would probably have despised himself for availing of such a craft had he possessed it. He showed his feelings too plainly. If men displeased him he seldom took the trouble to conceal his displeasure. It was murmured among his followers that he was dictatorial; and no doubt he was dictatorial in the sense that he had strong purposes himself, and was earnest in trying to press them upon other men. His very religious opinions served to interfere with his social popularity. He seemed to be a curious blending of the English High Churchman and the Scottish Presbyterian. He displeased the ordinary English middle class by leaning too much to Ritualism; and on the other hand, he often offended the Roman Catholics by his impassioned diatribes against the Pope and the Church of Rome. One or two appointments made by or under the authority of Mr. Gladstone gave occasion to considerable controversy and to something like scandal. One of these was

the appointment of the Attorney-General, Sir Robert Collier, to a Puisne Judgeship of the Court of Common Pleas, in order technically to qualify him for a seat on the bench of a new Court of Appeal-that is to say, to become one of the paid members of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. The statute required that every judge of the Court of Appeal should have been a judge of one of the ordinary courts; and Sir Robert Collier was passed through the Court of Common Pleas in order that he might have the technical qualification. There was not the slightest suggestion of any improper motive on the part of Mr. Gladstone, or lack of legal or judicial fitness on the part of Sir Robert Collier. On the contrary, it was admitted that Sir Robert Collier had helped the Government out of a difficulty by taking an appointment which several judges had declined, and which had not quite such a position as the traditions of his office would have entitled him to expect. It seemed, however, as if there was something of a trick in the act which thus passed him through the one court in order to give him a technical qualification for the other. A vote of censure on the Government was moved in the House of Lords, and the universal impression was that it would be carried. The vote of censure was, however, rejected by eighty-nine against eighty-seven. A similar attempt was made in the House of Commons, and was defeated; only however by a majority of twenty-seven, a small majority in the House where the strength of the Government was supposed to lie. There can be no doubt that, although in neither House of Parliament could any expression of censure be obtained, the Colliery explosion,' as it was called, gave a downward push to the declining popularity of Mr. Gladstone's administration.

The liquor interest' too was soon in arms against him. The United Kingdom Alliance for the suppression of the liquor traffic' had of late years been growing so strong as to become a positive influence in politics. Its object was to bring about the adoption of legislation which should leave it in the power of a two-thirds majority in each locality to stop altogether, if it were so thought fit, the public sale of intoxicating drinks. The Parliamentary leader of the agitation was Sir Wilfrid Lawson, a man of position, of great energy, and of thorough earnestness. Sir Wilfrid Lawson was not, however, merely energetic and earnest. He had a peculiarly effective style of speaking, curiously unlike that which might

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be expected from the advocate of an austere and somewhat fanatical sort of legislation. He was a humorist of a fresh and vigorous order, and he always took care to amuse his listeners and never allowed his speeches to bore them. The Alliance was always urging on the Government and public opinion against the drink traffic, and it became clear that something must be done to regulate the trade. Mr. Bruce, the Home Secretary, brought in a Bill which the Alliance condemned as feebleness, and which the publicans resented as oppression. The Bill increased the penalties for drunkenness, and shortened the hours during which public-houses might be kept open on Sundays and on week days as well. The effect of the passing of this measure was to throw the publicans into open hostility to the Government. The publicans were a numerous body; they were well organised; the network of their trade and their Association spread all over the kingdom. The hostile feelings of some were perhaps not unnaturally embittered by the fact that many speakers and writers treated all publicans alike, made no distinction between the reputable and the disreputable, though it was well known that a large proportion of the publicans carried on a respectable trade, and were losers rather than gainers by drunkenness. The natural result of indiscriminate attack was to cause an indiscriminate alliance for the purposes of defence.

The establishment of a republic in France could not be without its influence on English politics. A certain amount of more or less vague republican sentiment is always afloat on the surface of English radicalism. The establishment of the French Republic now came as a climax. At many of the great meetings which were held in London, and in most of the English cities, to express sympathy with the struggling republic a good deal of very outspoken republicanism made itself heard. There could be no doubt that a considerable proportion of the working men in the cities were republicans in sentiment. English writers who were not by any means of sentimental school, but on the contrary were somewhat hard and cold in their dogmatism, began to publish articles in 'advanced' reviews and magazines, distinctly pointing out the logical superiority of the republican theory. Men were already discussing the possibility of a declared republican party being formed both in and out of Parliament; not indeed a party clamouring for the instant pulling down of the monarchy; no one thought of that; but a party which would avow itself

republican in principle, and acknowledge that its object was to bring about a change in public sentiment which might prepare the way for a republic in the time to come. But France,

which had given the impulse, gave also the shock that brought reaction. The wild theories, the monstrous excesses, the preposterous theatricism, of the Paris Commune had a very chilling effect on the ardour of English republicans. The movement in England had, however, one or two curious episodes before it sank into quiescence.

6

In March 1872, Sir Charles Dilke brought on a motion, in the House of Commons, for inquiring into the manner in which the income and allowances of the Crown are expended. Sir Charles Dilke had been for some months of the preceding autumn the best abused man in Great Britain. His name appeared over and over again in the daily papers. The comic papers caricatured Citizen Dilke' every week. The telegraph-wires carried his doings and speeches everywhere. American correspondents' interviewed him, and pictured him as the future President of England. He went round the towns of the North of England, delivering a lecture on the expenses of royalty; and his progress was marked by more or less serious riots everywhere. Life was sacrificed in more than one of these tumults. The working men of London and of the North held great meetings to express their approval of his principles and conduct. To increase and perplex the excitement, the Prince of Wales fell ill, and if Sir Charles Dilke had personally caused his illness he could not have been more bitterly denounced by some speakers and writers. He was represented as a monster of disloyalty, who had chosen to assail the Queen (against whom it is only fair to say he had never uttered a disparaging word) while her eldest son lay struggling with death. The Prince of Wales, given over by all the doctors, recovered; and in the outburst of public gladness and loyalty that followed his restoration to health, Sir Charles Dilke was almost forgotten. But he had been challenged to repeat in the House of Commons the statements that he had made in the country. He answered the challenge by bringing forward the motion to inquire into the manner in which the income and allowances of the Crown were spent. There was unmistakeable courage in the cool, steady way in which he rose to propose his motion. Sir Charles Dilke knew that everyone in that House, save three or four alone, was bitterly opposed to him. It is a hard trial to the nerves to face such an audience. But neither then