the deeply gentle voice, over all that repose which comes from a tranquil spirit aloof from pettiness or worldly ambition. He always wore black, token of a great personal loss early in his Ministerial career. He walked in leisurely fashion. He talked slowly.

He had not the passion which makes the popular leader. He was not fond of debate, avoiding speech rather than seeking it—and that notwithstanding the fact there was hardly a more effective speaker in Parliament. Oftentimes there was a faraway look in his face as he sat beside the Prime Minister on the Front Bench during the exciting episodes of the first Asquith Ministry. I cannot remember a single occasion when he has sought to score verbally off an opponent. Never did there come from him a crushing rejoinder to some obscure member who had asked some silly question. He moved in an atmosphere of courtesy. Yet I have seen him roused. Once when Mr. Asquith was shouted down by angered opponents there were fierce demands that some other Minister should take his place. Mr. Asquith had sunk to his seat pallid and humiliated. Sir Edward Grey, without a word to colleagues on right and left, promptly took command. There was silence as his tall figure rose to the table. Unusual color was in his face and his words dropped with a kind of hissing contempt. If our leader is not to be listened to there is not a man among us who will dream for one instant of taking his place.' Even opponents felt the effect of his flaming chivalry.

There was another occasion of a different kind. The Labor party, with some Liberals, opposed a Foreign Office vote because the King was going to meet the Tsar at Reval. It looked like a substantial muster of votes against the government. Sir Edward swiftly took entire responsibility. He insisted

that the King should make the projected visit for many reasons. He turned to the Labor members, 'Carry your amendment and I shall no longer be Minister for Foreign Affairs.' That settled the matter. Later, at night, I was in the company of the Labor member who led the attack. 'Of all the Asquith Ministry, who do you think is the member whom I and most of my friends most admire and respect?' I suggested a name or two. 'No,' he said, 'it is Grey. He is a man. One can depend on him. He is a gentleman.' Such is the effect of character.

Lord Grey has no love for politics. He has taken part at Westminster because it has been his duty, even as he now goes to America as a duty. He loves the country. With rod and line on the banks of a stream on his Northumberland estate he is as nearly happy as man can be. Ambition touches him not. A clear night of stars, the cliff lands, and the breath of the North Sea - he would smile at the comparison of these with an exciting night at Westminster. An aristocrat by birth, a gentleman by nature, a democrat in the wider idealistic sense, how will such a man fit into that new strange world of things across the Atlantic? I can answer that right off. He is almost the perfect choice. His aloofness arises. from sensitiveness, not from superciliousness. The American people know him. He will be among friends from the start. There will be certain difficulties for a man of his temperament, but they will be smoothed out; the Americans will themselves smooth them out.

I can testify from personal knowledge to the extraordinary esteem and respect felt for Lord Grey by leaders in both political camps. Even more important than this is the fact that the American public, save that section hopelessly prejudiced against Britain,

regards him as a man of character and ideals, and a man who is not afraid. He will find this an enormous advantage, for, to be quite frank, America in her friendliest moments has a kind of feeling that British statesmen, especially those connected with our foreign affairs, conceal a Machiavellian cleverness beneath an assumption of unselfish honesty, not to say simplicity. It is quite a mistake to assume that America, speaking generally, underrates our leading statesmen; she frequently overrates them, and at the same time rather suspects them. There will be no mistake of that kind about Lord Grey.

Notwithstanding the various conditions in his favor, Lord Grey goes out to a heavy task. It was high time not only that an authoritative British voice should be heard in counsel at Washington, but that there should be a head centre of British interests in the New World. The position of an Ambassador at Washington is a unique one. To represent his country effectively he has to be far more than the exalted official dealing in secret conclave, and at frequent intervals entertaining and being entertained in the lavish style which ancient and modern custom demands. In so far as he stands out to the American people, as the typical representative of the country from whence he comes, to that extent he is successful as Ambassador. What may be called his popular influence is immensely greater than that of an ambassador to any other country. That is why it is inadvisable to send to America what may be called a promoted diplomat from some other embassya diplomat who may be profound and skillful in his special work, but lacking the wider qualifications necessary to make him understood by the people at large.

The British Ambassador at Washington must first of all be a man of

achievement a man of ideals without personal achievements would soon slip into comparative obscurity in America. He must not be exclusive, for exclusiveness is regarded not as a mark of dignity, but as a cover for lack of intellect, or laziness, or maybe, in the case of a foreign representative, for devious and dubious diplomatic courses. He must be prepared for all kinds of public gatherings, not necessarily to speak, but in order to mix with people. His speeches, when he makes them, do not have to be 'highbrow,' but of an informing tendency, with, if possible, a touch of lightness in them. (More noticeable in America than a sense of humor is an insatiable desire for information.) All this does not mean that an ambassador has to make himself cheap, only that he must enter the life of Americans as they live it. His reward will be great. His influence for his own country will be incalculable.

From one end of the country to the other I heard nothing but praise of Lord Bryce-even from some of those who were by no means cordial toward England. That arose not from the fact that Lord Bryce was a distinguished intellectual, but that, being a distinguished intellectual, he entered with happy zest into all things American. I met few who had read his American Commonwealth, but never a soul who did not speak enthusiastically about it. In the course of that ponderous volume one may find many traces of the hold Lord Bryce had on America. There was the case of the engine driver on the country tram by which the author once traveled. At some wayside stop Lord Bryce seems to have had a little stroll with the man, and to have derived some pieces of interesting information from him. The natural inclination was to give him a tip, but Lord Bryce pulled himself up