sound and rumour of great multitudes, passions hot as ginger in the mouth, torches, tumultuous comings and goings, and, riding through the whirlwind of it all, a personality, with something about him of the prophet, something of the actor, a touch of the charlatan, crying out not so much with his own voice as with that of the multitude, establishing with a gesture, refuting with a glance, stirring ecstasies of hatred and affection—is not that a common, and far from fantastic, conception of the orator?"
An appreciation of him containing reminiscences of two speeches in the House may not be deemed amiss here: "Wit and humour, denunciation and appeal came from him not merely fluently but always with effect. Tall and slight, with his soft boyish face and luminous eyes, he soon startled and then compelled the attention of the House by his peculiar irresistible sparkle and his luminous argument. Two pictures of him in that period survive. The first was on the occasion of the second reading of one of the numerous Women's Suffrage Bills. 'Mr. Speaker,' he said in his rich Dublin accent and almost drawling intonation, 'they say that if we admit women here as members, the House will lose in mental power.' He flung a finger round the packed benches: 'Mr. Speaker,' he continued, 'it is impossible.' The House roared with laughter. 'They tell me also that the House will suffer in morals. Mr. Speaker,
