But a hard fate lay before him.

He made one brilliant and successful speech in Parliament--a speech never forgotten by those who heard it, for its astonishing eloquence, its keen wit, its bitter satire.

Never again did his voice rouse alike friend and foe.

He was seized with a sudden and dangerous illness which brought him to the brink of the grave.
After a long and desperate struggle with the "grim enemy," he slowly recovered, but all hope of public life was over for him.

The doctors said he might live to be a hale old man if he took proper precautions; he must live quietly, avoid all excitement, and never dream again of politics.
To Lord Earle this seemed like a sentence of exile or death.