Mr. Palliser was one of those politicians in possessing whom England has perhaps more reason to be proud than of any other of her resources, and who, as a body, give to her that exquisite combination of conservatism and progress which is her present strength and best security for the future. He could afford to learn to be a statesman, and had the industry wanted for such training. He was born in the purple, noble himself, and heir to the highest rank as well as one of the greatest fortunes of the country, already very rich, surrounded by all the temptations of luxury and pleasure; and yet he devoted himself to work with the grinding energy of a young penniless barrister labouring for a penniless wife, and did so without any motive more selfish than that of being counted in the roll of the public servants of England. He was not a brilliant man, and understood well that such was the case. He was now listened to in the House, as the phrase goes; but he was listened to as a laborious man, who was in earnest in what he did, who got up his facts with accuracy, and who, dull though he be, was worthy of confidence. And he was very dull. He rather prided himself on being dull, and on conquering in spite of his dullness. He never allowed himself a joke in his speeches, nor attempted even the smallest flourish of rhetoric. He was very careful in his language, labouring night and day to learn to express himself with accuracy, with no needless repetition of words, perspicuously with regard to the special object he might have in view. He had taught himself to believe that oratory, as oratory, was a sin against that honesty in politics by which he strove to guide himself. 
Mr. Palliser was one of those politicians of whom England can be prouder than of any other of her resources, giving her that combination of conservatism and progress which is her present strength and best security for the future.
He had both the money and the industry needed by a statesman. He was born into the nobility, and heir to the highest rank, already very rich; and yet he devoted himself to work with the grinding energy of a young penniless barrister, and did so unselfishly, wishing only to serve his country. He was not a brilliant man, and he knew it. He was listened to in the House as a laborious, earnest man, who was accurate in his facts, and who, though dull, was worthy of confidence.
And he was very dull. He rather prided himself on being dull, and on succeeding in spite of his dullness. He never allowed himself a joke in his speeches, nor attempted the smallest flourish of rhetoric. He was very careful in his language, labouring to learn to express himself accurately, with no needless repetition. He had taught himself to believe that oratory was a sin against honesty in politics. 