gentlemanly spirit. He was always writing me notes, apologising for
excesses on the part of his supporters, or pointing out the
undesirability of some course taken by mine.

My speeches had been planned upon broad lines, but they lost touch
with these as the polling approached. To begin with I made a real
attempt to put what was in my mind before the people I was to supply
with a political voice. I spoke of the greatness of our empire and
its destinies, of the splendid projects and possibilities of life
and order that lay before the world, of all that a resolute and
constructive effort might do at the present time. "We are building
a state," I said, "secure and splendid, we are in the dawn of the
great age of mankind." Sometimes that would get a solitary "'Ear!
'ear!" Then having created, as I imagined, a fine atmosphere, I
turned upon the history of the last Conservative administration and
brought it into contrast with the wide occasions of the age;
discussed its failure to control the grasping financiers in South
Africa, its failure to release public education from sectarian
squabbles, its misconduct of the Boer War, its waste of the world's
resources. . . .

It soon became manifest that my opening and my general spaciousness
of method bored my audiences a good deal. The richer and wider my
phrases the thinner sounded my voice in these non-resonating
gatherings. Even the platform supporters grew restive
unconsciously, and stirred and coughed. They did not recognise
themselves as mankind. Building an empire, preparing a fresh stage
in the history of humanity, had no appeal for them. They were
mostly everyday, toiling people, full of small personal solicitudes,
and they came to my meetings, I think, very largely as a relaxation.