John Morley: “I believe you cannot find any individual native gentleman who is enjoying general confidence, who would be able to give…”

There lay Ireland,—squalid, dismal, sullen, dull, expectant, sunk deep in hostile intent.

But the Poet Laureate has written his own song on the hearts of his countrymen that can never die.

The general situation in Egypt had latterly become one in which everything was governed by sheer military violence.

It would be a happy day for the Peace Society that should give the colonies a veto on imperial war.