The result of this tongue-culture was a disfavour towards unnecessarily drawn out speeches. Indeed, the rule adopted mostly by legislative and other assemblies was timed speeches, generally from thirty to sixty minutes’ duration; but very rarely was this latter period taken except in cases of extraordinary importance. It would astonish a nineteenth-century parliamentarian if he could have heard a thirty minutes’ speech at this time. Every sentence uttered expressed a thought; not a superfluous word was used throughout; yet every idea was enunciated fully and perfectly, for it was concentrated thought projected in concentrated language. For several previous generations this power of _précis_ had been put in general practice. Both parents and teachers making it a point to impress upon children the vulgarity of verbosity; both in writing and speaking an artistic method was inculcated that expressed every shade of thought in the least possible number of words. Each day’s proceedings at the World’s Tribunal was known in every country upon the same day. In a couple of hours from the close of the chamber, the speeches appeared word for word, in the leading newspapers of every country, including the most distant parts of Africa. Although eagerly perused by all, the contents were exceptionally interesting to India. Millions of dark eyes daily scanned the pages that brought them hope and fear alternately. At length the day arrived upon which the decision was to be formally announced—it was the twenty-eighth from the commencement. Alas, the bright hopes of this gentle people were cruelly blasted, for the verdict of the Great Tribunal was against them. At first overwhelmed with disappointment they were perfectly paralysed. A deep, dead silence reigned amidst that vast concourse of people while it was being read out to them; for both high and low had assembled in immense crowds in some open space of each great city of India. This was followed by a sudden and furious anger that burst from the heart of the multitude and found vent in the loud cries of—‘A trial by combat! A trial by combat!’ The same day the Indian Press declared that the decision was unjust to a degree, nay, iniquitous; and the people of India should refuse to accept it. Immediately America took up the strain and declared she had never approved of it, but having been in the minority when put to the vote their opinion had gone for nothing. Then Russia had another word to say in the matter, and encouraged America, until eventually it was conceded that India should be accorded the benefit of the final test, and the great question decided by personal prowess. To this arrangement the Teutonic Empire made no objection, for the natural confidence and conceit of the English caused them to regard with disdain an engagement where physical strength gave the victory.