envious I felt at the good fortune of our Edinburgh comrades in having such a handsome meeting-place, while we in Glasgow had to be content with a dingy little hall in the slummiest quarter of the city for the meetings of our Socialist group.
Morris had not yet arrived when I took my seat in the hall, and I recall how anxiously I awaited his appearance lest for any reason he should not turn up. When a few minutes later he entered the room with Scheu and the Rev. Dr. John Glasse (his host and chairman), I at once knew it was he. No one else could be like that. There he was, a sun-god, truly, in his ever afterwards familiar dark-blue serge jacket suit and lighter blue cotton shirt and collar (without scarf or tie), and with the grandest head I had ever seen on the shoulders of a man. He was detained near the door for several minutes, while various people were being introduced to him, and I noticed that he was slightly under middle height, but was broadly and sturdily set. A kind of glow seemed to be about him, such as we see lighting up the faces in a room when a beautiful child comes in.
When the pressure of friends around him was over, Scheu, who had noticed me in the hall—I was a complete stranger to all our Edinburgh comrades save himself—beckoned me from my seat and introduced me to Morris, telling him that I was from Glasgow, and was 'one of the most enthusiastic propagandists in Scotland.' At this extravagant commendation Morris cast a scrutinising glance in my face, and with a friendly word proceeded with Dr. Glasse to the platform at the end of the room.
I now set my eyes full upon him seated on the platform. He appeared a larger man than when on his feet, so that Dr. Glasse, who was taller and hardly less stout than he, appeared small by comparison. He seemed in a remarkable way to open wide his whole being to the audience. This impression of his expanding or opening out when facing his hearers often struck me afterwards as very characteristic of him. He always sat with his broad shoulders held well
