What the Judges Liked.

Plunket Modal speeches that begin with the time and place of a man's arrival on this planet, and proceed chronologically to his obituary notices, are seldom a success. Bob Edgley was evidently determined not to make this mistake, for he began with Disraeli's funeral service, and worked round in a circle until he came to his death again. Disraeli is one of the most romantic characters in English history; books, and delightful books at that, have been written about him, so that as a subject for oratory he has great possibilities. These Bob made the most of, [unclear: he gave a colourful speech burdening it with too many] anecdotes, which must be a temptation to those who talk of Disraeli. After the funeral service he sounded the great man s knell with a series of sentences, all beginning with the word "Disraeli." At the fourth time the construction began to pall, and we were glad when he stopped after the fifth. The second half of his speech was much more natural than the first, both in treatment and delivery, but taken as a whole it was good, and well merited its placing.

Names that most of us would hesitate to pronounce in far less conspicuous places than the Concert Chamber seem to hold no terrors for Mr. Perry. This year it was General Chang [unclear: Hsueh] Liang, the young Marshal of China, who, having conquered the drug habit, proceeded to conquer everything else in sight. We were a little sorry for Mr. Perry, because he spoke after Derek Freeman, whose brilliant discourse on Spain made his China seem particularly colourless by contrast. Actually his speech was full of colour and vitality, but he failed to put them across to the audience, because his intonation was monotonous and his constructions involved. It was a speech that required concentration to listen to, but which repaid the effort of concentrating.