their flight? Most true, there is generally some compensation for the heaviest misfortune; but, it is, alas! as a rule, far too small for the loss sustained. And such, no doubt, has been the experience of the eminent politician and economist, Henry Fawcett.
Bereft of sight, he has achieved much; with sight, he would beyond question have achieved still more. For his is an exceedingly strong and healthy nature, as little prone to succumb to the enervating influences of prosperity as to the prostrating blows of adversity,—a true Samson Agonistes, whose locks, however closely shorn by unlucky chance, were bound to grow some day and somehow. His intellect is characterized by a vigor that is almost redundant, a tenacity of purpose that turns not back, and a personal courage curiously combined with caution, which it would be exceedingly difficult to match inside or outside of Parliament. Physically he is a picture of health and strength, one of the tallest men in the House, with long sinewy limbs and that peculiar poise about the shoulders suggestive of a leonine bound, which is generally observable in persons of extraordinary intrepidity of character. As might be expected of one in such fine animal condition, Mr. Fawcett's habitual mood is cheerful, even to mirthfulness. He has escaped being a mere athlete by becoming a scholar; and it is pretty certain, that, if he had not been a philosopher, he would have been a demagogue. He has strong natural affinities for the "unwashed" multitude. "March without the people," he would say with Ledru Rollin, "and 30U march into night: their instincts are a finger-pointing of Providence, always turned towaids real benefit."
Men cast in such a big mould as Mr. Fawcett are
