John Morley: “So also upon the Irish complications there is more hope than there was yesterday, although the odds may still be heavily…”

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

He was a soldier of infinite personal courage and daring; of striking military energy, initiative, and resource; a high, pure, and single character, dwelling much in the region of the unseen.

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

What I expect is a healthful, slow fermentation in many minds, working towards the final product.