conceal his opinions, but, as always, he was open to conviction, and saw
both sides of a difficult question. In 1878, he was "quite in favour of
vigorous action to counteract the Russians"; but two years later, in
1880, after the Cavagnari murder, he records in a characteristic letter
that he "was mentally edging back towards old John Lawrence's counsel
never to embark on the shoreless sea of Afghan politics." On the whole,
it may be said that Lyall passed through this supreme test in a manner
which would not have been possible to any man unless endowed not merely
with great abilities, but with the highest degree of moral courage and
honesty of purpose. He preserved his own self-esteem, and by his
unswerving honesty and loyalty gained that of the partisans on both
sides of the controversy.

It is pleasant to turn from these episodes to other features in Lyall's
career and character, in respect to which unstinted eulogy, without the
qualification of a shade of criticism, may be recorded. It was more
especially in dealing with the larger and more general aspects of
Eastern affairs that Lyall's genius shone most brightly. He had what
the French call a _flair_ in dealing with the main issues of Oriental
politics such as, so far as my experience goes, is possessed by few. It
was very similar to the qualities displayed by the late Lord Salisbury
in dealing with foreign affairs generally. I give an instance in point.

In 1884, almost every newspaper in England was declaiming loudly about
the dangers to be apprehended if the rebellion excited by the Mahdi in
the Soudan was not promptly crushed. It was thought that this rebellion
was but the precursor of a general and formidable offensive movement
throughout the Islamic world. "What," General Gordon, whose opinion at
the time carried great weight, had asked, "is to prevent the Mahdi's
adherents gaining Mecca? Once at Mecca we may look out for squalls in