ORATORS OF THE AGE:
COMPRISING
PORTRAITS,
CRITICAL, BIOGRAPHICAL, AND DESCRIPTIVE.
BY G.H;. FRANCIS, ESQ.,
EDITOR OF
"THE MAXIMS AND OPINIONS OF THE DUKE OF WEI,LINGTO."t
NEWV YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
1854.








ADVERTISEMENT.
THE interest felt by every British subject in
those public men whose conduct and personal
character so much influence the affairs of this
country, may be held to be a reason for the publication of the sketches contained in the following
pages. The author is conscious that on no other
plea can he hope to escape an obvious imputation
of presumption, in that he should have arrogated
to himself the function of pronouncing judgment
on some of our most distinguished cotemporaries.
He further urges, that he has striven, however
unsuccessfully, to study his various subjects in the
spirit of strict impartiality; and that his impressions are the result of constant observation and a
long personal experience. Believing that public
men are, in at least a large majority of cases,
actuated by honorable motives and objects, he has
rather sought to discover the good that is in them.
than to dwell upon errors for which party is generally more responsible than the individual.




iv             ADVERTISEMENT.
A considerable number of the following pages
consists of reprints of articles that have already
been published in Fraser's Magazine; but those
parts which are not new have been subjected to
careful revision. Many of the sketches have been
rewritten or remodeled, and some of them have not
appealed before.
LONDON, December, 1846.




CONTENTS.
PAGE
SIR ROBERT PEEL.                 7
LORD JOHN RUSSELL.                         38
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.                      53
RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY....       64
LORD STANLEY.... 81
LORD PALMERSTON..                          98
LORD LYNDHURST.                       111
EARL GREY.                                125
SIR JAMES GRAHAM...... 142
LORD MORPETH..                              159
THE DUKE OF BUCKINGiHAM..             167
EARL OF RADNOR....                     172
THE DUKE OF RICHMOND.. 177
MR. BRIGHT....    182
MR. SHEIL. 187
LORD GEORGE BENTINCK..                      214
MR. VILLIERS... 221
MR. T. MILNER GIBSON....    24
MR. WAKLEY.. 229
DR. BOWRING...                            245
MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE....       2...49
MR. WYSE..... 58
MR. HAWES.... 264
MR. WARD..                                  268
MR. ROEBUCK....                   272
SIR THOMAS WILDE.......   298
LORD SANDON....                            303
REV. HUGH M'NEILE...             308








ORATORS OF THE AGE.
SIR ROBERT PEEL.
SIR ROBERT PEEL is, and for many years has been,
the most prominent and influential politician in this
country. In office, he has made his will the law of
his fellow-countrymen; out of office, he has cast the
shadow of his power on his rivals. In his social rank,
not so advantageously placed as most of those with
whom he has struggled in the course of his career,
he had to contend against aristocratic prejudice on the
one hand, and the want of popular sympathy on the
other. He has conquered the former by constituting
himself its organ and leader; he has, however late,
secured the latter by his bold adoption of a popular
policy. But in the mean while, though his position as
a statesman has often been anomalous, he has always
maintained a high, if not the highest, place in the favor of the House of Commons, notwithstanding that
there are in that assembly speakers who far transcend
him in the loftier attributes of oratory. It is worth
while to inquire into the causes of this preference.
Eloquence, in this empire, is power. Give a man
nerve, a presence, sway over language, and, above all,
enthusiasm, or the skill to simulate it; start him in
the public arena with these requisites; and ore many
years, perhaps many months, have passed, you will




8            ORATORS OF TEE AGE.
either see him in high station, or in a fair way of rising
to it. Party politics, social grievances,, humanitymongering," and the like, are to him so many newly
discovered worlds wherein he may, with the orator's
sword-his tongue-carve out his fortune and his fame.
Station-the prior possession, by rank or wealth, of
the public ear-is, no doubt, a great advantage. It is
much for a man to be asked as a favor to speak to a
cause, for that his position and name will influence
the people; or to have secured to him by his birth a
seat in the senate: these things, doubtless, give one
man a start before another in the race. But, without
the gift of eloquence, all these special favors of Fortune are of no avail in securing you influence over your
countrymen. Unless you have the art of clothing your
ideas in clear and captivating diction, of identifying
yourself with the feelings of your hearers, and uttering them in language more forcible, or terse, or brilliant, than they can themselves command; or unless
you have the power-still more rare-of originating,
-of commanding their intellects, their hearts,-of
drawing them in your train by the irresistible magic
of sympathy, —of making their thoughts your thoughts,
or your thoughts theirs; unless you have stumbled on
the shell that shall make you the possessor of this lyre,
never hope to rule your fellow-men in these modern
days. Write books rather; be a patient and admiring
listener; make other men puppets if you can, and hold
the strings; but rest content with a private station, and
make it as influential as you may. Publicly and ostensibly powerful you never will be unless you have mastered the art of oratory.
We are so accustomed to the influence of this talking power in the state, that we have ceased to wonder
at its successes.. Yet the triumphs of the tongue have
in our own days almost equaled those of the sword.
England is generally accounted an aristocratic country,




SIR ROBERT PEEL.                9
and her aristocracy have the credit (undeservedly,
perhaps) of being peculiarly tenacious of their privileges,-jealous of the intrusion of adventurers into their
ranks. The career of one man among our cotemporaries, however, has shown that eloquence has a potency as great as parchment pedigrees; that the owner of that talisman may storm the very strong-hold of
the exclusives; appropriate their rank, titles, dignities,
and turn their power against themselves; while, by
the agency of their own legalized formularies, he sways
the supreme, and rules even the rulers. Emerging
from the comparative obscurity of a provincial capital,
as an advocate he talks himself into the distinction of
being talked about; thence he talks himself into the
popular branch of the legislature; where again he
talks to such purpose as to become the mouthpiece of
the most exclusive section of an exclusive aristocracy:
arrived at this point, he reappears on his old scene of
action, and talks to the people with the new sanctions
and powers which his parliamentary talking has obtained for him.; he talks at meetings, he talks at dinners,
he talks at mechanics' institutes; he talks to the men
of the south, he talks to the men of the north; he talks
to every one of every thing, till the whole land is filled
with the echo of his voice-till, with all England, nay,
with all the world, for his listeners, men wonder where
next he will find an audience: when, lo! suddenly, incomprehensibly, as if by magical power, at a few more
waggings of that ever-vibrating organ of his, the doors
of the senate itself fly open, and peers of ancient lineage crowd down to welcome him to this sanctuary of
noble blood, to usher him up even to the judgment-seat
itself, to make him lord paramount over themselves and
their proceedings, the. licenser of their thoughts, and
the originator of their laws! Could the greatest triumphs in arms achieve much more? The hero who
has served and saved his country in the field secures




10           ORATORS OF THE -AGE.
a higher and more lasting fame, and a reward in the
gratitude of his- countrymen; but in all the external
and ostensible marks of honor, such as constituted authorities can bestow, the heaped titles of the victorious
warrior exceed the simple nobility of the successful orator only in degree; while the influence of the one
culminates where that of the other declines-with the
ascendency of peace.
But if we look to Lord Brougham as a great and
glaring instance of the success that may be achieved
by the aid of oratory-if we select him because he is,
and has been throughout his active career, the type of
the talking power, let us not, therefore, overlook the
innumerable minor instances which go to prove the
vast influence exercised over modern society by those
who have acquired the habit of addressing with confidence and skill assembled numbers of their fellowcountrymen. The events of every day tend to increase
their numbers and their influence. That the people
are the source of all power has long been a maxim of
a large and growing political sect.  The domestic
history of the last fifteen years goes far to elevate it
to the dignity of an admitted truth. The, pressure
from without" is now looked to as the ready solution
of all political difficulties and dilemmas. Never, even
in the days of the Commonwealth, were appeals to
the popular will made so systematically as now; never
was it more the fashion to look to the constituencies
of the country, rather than to the legislature, for the
agencies which are necessary to work out political
changes.," The Agitator" was at one time a term of
reproach applied to a particular individual::now, there
are so many agitators that all opprobrium is removed
from the epithet. Even those who coined it-Are themselves among the foremost in the race for popular favor; and no better means can be found to oppose the
efforts of the pbpular or demcratic party, than coune




SIR ROBEIRT PEEL.             11
ter-appeals to the people by those who formerly scouted their interference. The highest and gravest in
the land are not exempt from the same prevailing necessity. For every Plebeian Demagogue you will find
a match in some Aristocratic Tribune; for every open
conspiracy against the laws or the constitution, you
will find an equally open combination in their favor.
Anti-Corn Law Leagues, and Agricultural Protection
Societies; Exeter Hall enthusiasts, and Crown and
Anchor brawlers; holders of,,  monster meetings," and
Protestant Operative Associations; ministerial speeches at anniversary dinners, and Chartist harangues to
the dregs of the populace; each and all, though opposed as the poles in the principles they propound,
and the objects they seek to attain, agree, with a
marvelous unanimity, only paralleled by the instinct of
seIf-preservation, in submitting their cause to the suffrage of the people, and in seeking to import into the
discussions of the legislature an influence in their favor derived from public opinion out of doors. The
whole empire is from time to time under the influence of public speakers. Look at Ireland. At any
given time, one man, with a half-a-dozen or so of his
satellites, can, within a week, so influence the willing
and infatuated people, that they adopt his views and
objects, and become imbued with his opinions, even
although the solemn annunciation of to-day may be a
contradiction of the declarations of years. Scotland
has not yet recovered from a convulsion which shook
society to its foundations, produced by the eloquence
of a few determined men. And in England, the question which, during the last year or so, most agitated
the public mind has been brought to a triumphant issue, solely through the indomitable energy of one man,
-a man not bred to oratory, yet who has learned, from
contact with the masses, the art of appealing to their
passions, and making their prejudices mUtsberl" tt to




12           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
the accomplishment of his darling projects. O'Connell,
Candleish, Cobden,-each is powerful in his own
sphere; each has worked, or is working, great changes
for evil or for good. To what do they owe their power? To their eloquence.
It is, of course, needless to ascribe this influence of
public speakers to the popular constitution of the country. Although the privilege of voting for members of
parliament is, comparatively speaking, confined, the influence of public opinion on those who enjoy that privilege is illimitable. Although at any given public
meeting there may be a very small minority of registered electors present, the excited feelings of the nonelectors communicate themselves to the privileged
few; and thus a public opinion is created and propagated. The deliberations of parliament, particularly in
the lower house, are insensibly affected by similar
causes. Although the then members may have been
elected but a few months, and may reasonably look
forward to a tenure of a few years, yet the fear of a
dissolution, and a desire to stand well with future
constituencies, will operate on them, so that the proceedings of a very numerous public meeting, even
though composed for the most part of non-electors,
may, by the enthusiasm communicated through the
press, influence the opinions and votes of the legislators of the country. Again, of late years a practice has
grown up of endeavoring to force great political changes,
contrary to the avowed determination of the legislature,
against even the fundamental laws of the constitution,
byappeals from the privileged and representative bodies,
not to the constituent body merely, but, beyond them,
to the masses of the people, whether taking part in
elections or not. This is a practice altogether different from the constitutional form of holding legally convened meetings for the purpose of petitioning. These
popular assemblies do not profess to express the wishes




SIR ROBERT PEEL.               13
or the opinions of the people, but their absolute will.
Where they are successful, they invariably resort to
the system of pledges from representatives, and end
by degrading the House of Commons from the high
position of a deliberative assembly to that of a mere
monster deputation of delegates. The eloquent, enthusiastic, and impassioned opponents of slavery, blinded by the holiness of their cause to the evil effect of
their courses, first introduced this baneful practice,
which has since been perpetuated, for very different
objects, by the Irish Catholic leaders, and by the AntiCorn-Law League.
What a field, and what a temptation, does this state of
things open to public speakers! The germs of great
events, the first motive-springs of change have their
origin, no doubt, in the closet, in the minds of men of
deep thought and extensive observation, who are not,
perhaps, actually engaged in the arena. But the people are the great lever by which the movement is
carried out. Therefore, the people must be acted
upon; therefore there must be orators to act upon the
people, to imbue them with the ideas of the men of the
closet. The same necessity which calls up the men
has also taught them the art by which they act. The
public mind is not always to be influenced by straightforward appeals to reason, or explanations of the desired object. Prejudices have to be worked upon, or,
as the case may be, avoided. A very roundabout, or
a very tortuous course must in many, unhappily in
most cases, be resorted to. A plain, blunt enthusiast,
or an honest thinker, above guile or reserve of his
opinions, might sometimes mar the best laid scheme
of a public meeting (ay, or even of a debate in the
senate), by letting the real objects peep out too soon.
Hence, to speak in public, it is not merely required
that you shall know how to string words gracefully
together, learn exordiums and perorations by rote, and




14           ORATORS QF THFE GrE.
practice inflections and intonations; you must also
learn to feel the pulse of the public, to form a diagnosis of the popular fever, command your own enthusiasm
or your own passion, in order the better to arouse
those of your hearers. To a dispassionate observer,
it is most amusing to see the arts and tricks that are
resorted to for the attainment of these desired objects.
Little do the deluded audiences of Exeter Hall, or the
Corn Exchange, ay, or even the great House of Commons itself, suspect the sly manceuvers of a practiced
speaker. The highest ini rank and the greatest in
talent are not exempt from the necessity of employing these arts. Like love, politics level all distinctions;
and you may see the philanthropic peer, the ubiquitous ex-chancellor, the hireling lecturer on free-trade,
the fiery Chartist, the clerical advocate of the wrongs
of the poor, and the master of debate in the House of
Commons, all employing the same arts, and stooping
to the same artifices, according to the greater or less
degree of pliability there is in the assembly they address.
The greater the art, the greater, too often, is the insincerity. Indeed, it would not be difficult, though it
would be invidious, to point out a few glaring instances
where the least honest men are the most successful
speakers both in parliament and in public. The reason
is obvious: careless about the truth, and thinking only of
the immediate expediency or effect of what they utter,
they are the more free to study the character of their audience, to pamper their appetite, season their intellectual food, and thus, by pandering and flattery, to gain
the ascendency over them. On the other hand, it
may fairly be urged, that insincerity in public speakers is almost a matter of necessity, as public opinion
is now constituted. It may appear a hazardous assertion, but it is true, as applied to the great majority of
distinguished public men, that they have two charac



SIR ROBERT'PEEL.      ]      1
ters and two sets of opinions; one for the initiated, and
another for the public. By the latter, affairs are supposed to be under the influence of moral agencies;
the others know too well that the real power is of a
much more material nature. Too often, while a minister is laying down principles, he is all the while
counting votes, and how they are to be obtained. But
put all sinister influence out of the question, and still
the double face is too often resorted to. Public leaders are often in advance of those whom they lead, yet
they dare not always let this be known. Too often
they are compelled to enunciate, not their own real
opinions, but the opinions which they know will find
favor with those whom they address. They have
one opinion for themselves, and another for their
party.
The leaders of party in both Houses of Parliament
are judged by the public according to a standard totally different from that by which they judge each
other. In the one case, the measure of merit is political opinions in the other, it is talent. If you go into
private society, or among the people in the country,
nothing is more common than to find my Lord This
or Sir James That depreciated on the score of his being a Tory, Whig, Radical, or Chartist; or to hear him
denounced as being politically ruined, because of some
apostasy-some avowed or suspected change of party.
Yet place these very detractors in the gallery of one
of the Houses of Parliament, and they would see the
object of their criticism ruling paramount over the
one or the other assembly, listened to with deference
and attention, and treated with respect, even by the
persons supposed to be injured by their tergiversation. Without stopping to inquire into the morality
of these apparent contradictions, they may be at
once ascribed to a species of necessity. The parliament is an arena for the free discussion of principles.




16           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
The House of Commons has often been called a giant
debating-club; and very often, at the time of great
party struggles, it deserves that name.  But ordinarily it takes a higher ground.  It is not a mere
battle-field for gladiatorial combats, the aim of which is
personal distinction and public honor alone, but an assembly in which the opinions and interests of rival
classes are set forth and judged by the master-spirits
of the time, who are the real legislators, in order that
they may be as far as possible equalized, and mutually
satisfied, without too great several sacrifice. For this
purpose it is necessary that those views and interests
should be set forth clearly to either House; and the
men who can do this the most effectually, pointedly, or
truly, are those who become eminent. If they can
superadd the charms of eloquence to its more essential
requisites, their power is the greater; but the fact remains the same, that it is to the ability with which the
individual expounds his opinions, not to the supposed
honesty of his convictions, that respect is paid. If this
be disputed, let the reader run over the names of the
most distinguished orators now in parliament, and he
will find that, with a few exceptions (and those the
men of the less talent), they are all now engaged successfully in defending opinions which during their former lives they had attacked. The power of exposition, then, not the tendency of the opinions, is the
standard of merit in our parliament.
To be a successful public speaker and to be a firstrate orator, are two very different things. The country swarms with the one class; the others might almost
be counted on one's fingers. Of the former, some of
the requisites and characteristics have already been
pointed out; the latter stand in a far higher position,
and require far higher powers. It has now become
almost trite to remark on the decline of British eloquence. All readers of the cotemporary gossip of the




SIR ROBERT PEEL.               17
latter part of the last century, and all who are old
enough to have heard the great speakers who figured
in the early part of the present, are ready to draw an
unfavorable contrast between the parliamentary orators
of our own day and their predecessors. It is true that,
from the insufficient records we have of the speeches of
the latter, we are not able ourselves to institute a coinparison altogether satisfactory to the critical judgment.
It is true, also, that we are somewhat at the mercy of
the common desire of men to exalt the past,-of that
senile querulousness which leads us to magnify the
merits of dead actors, or the charms of those reigning
beauties who were the toasts of our youth. But, on the
other hand, the orators who shone so brilliantly during
the last seventy or eighty years passed a severe ordeal
of criticism; those who pronounced them great were
themselves great men, and on other subjects we have
always been content to bow to their opinions.  Our
records of the speeches of those distinguished statesmen and orators, although imperfect, are still sufficiently clear and copious to indicate their lofty tone of
thought, and the pure, nervous language they used.
They even justify, to a great extent, the high eulogium
passed upon the speeches by those who heard them
delivered.
In our own day there are no such obstacles in the
way of a judgment. The wonderful progress recently
Inade in the art of reporting has removed that difficulty. We now have the speeches of the first orators of
the day with all the advantage which the taste and appreciation of highly educated men can superadd to
mere literal and mechanical accuracy. There are the
full means of forming an opinion. Still, the most biased admirer of the present must admit a deficiency
of power and eloquence as compared with the past.
Yet we are not deficient in men of first-rate talentmen of, perhaps, more general information and greater
B




1~8         - ORATORS OF THE AGE.
knowledge of the science of statesmanship, than even
those idols of their country, the parliamentary orators
of the Georgian era. Lyndhurst, Brougham, Peel,
Stanley! they are men of first-rate ability. In what
may be termed the mechanics of oratory, in all that
part of the art of the speaker which does not directly
depend upon the animating spirit, they are certainly
not inferior to any of those great men. Mr. Macaulay, too, as a talking essayist, has produced effects
which, for brilliancy and polish of language, will vie
even with some of their master-pieces. It is in the
animus that vivified the speeches of the elder oratorstheir concentration of soul-their indifference to all
external modifying influences, to all but the full development of the spontaneous creations of their intellects, that modern speeches are deficient. What have
been the causes of the decline of what, in a popular
country, must ever be one of the most powerful agencies of change?
The speeches of the past had two sources of high
and concentrated interest: the one arose where the
speakers were engaged in direct personal contest.
Prominent as they were before the world, their combat aroused a high dramatic interest.  The other was
when the subjects before the senate involved considerations so important as to compel the speakers to probe
to the very first principles on which human society is
based, and where their oracular effusions presented
us with that noblest and most enlarged kind of virtue,
Philosophy, animated by enthusiasm for the public
welfare.
Again, the speeches of Chatham, Pitt, Fox, Sheridan,
Grey, Plunket, and the earlier speeches of Brougham,
were delivered to an assembly, the flite of whom were
the choice spirits of the age.  The greater part of the
members of those parliaments were men to whom politics were a profession-with too many a trade. At




SIR ROBEUT PEEL.               19
that time, under the influence of the nomination system, the House of Commons was the high-road, if not
the sole road to political power. A man could not then
so readily ride into office on the shoulders of the Inultitude. To sway the House of Commons was then
much more essential even than it is now. A great
proportion of the members were undergoing their training for parliamentary speaking, to whom a rigid observation of those who were to form their models was a
part of their duty as being a part of their political education.  The majority of the remainder were men of
education and lohg political experience, grown old in the.
habit of Weighing the relative value of different speakers. Thus a critical tribunal of a severe character, not
unassisted in the rigidity of its scrutiny by the mutual
asperities of party, was established within the -Walls
of parliament; and the constitution of the thinking,
critical public of that day presented scarcely more
than a reflex of it.  Then, parties were dependent for
their combinations upon men of a high genius for politics; now, those men of genius are obliged to shape
their course in accordance with the movements of parties.
Many causes combine to lessen the interest of cotemporary speeches. In the first place, the strong
excitement of personal contest on personal grounds is
wanting to them. The decencies of debate, as regards
indulgence in personality, are more observed in the
modern House of Comnmons than in the old one.
Measures are attacked, not men. If a man like Lord
Stanley secedes from his old political associates, they
do not make it a personal, but a political difference.
No criminations or recriminations take place, beyond
those which the difference of political opinions gives
rise to and justifies.  The House has become the
property of the public; and deference is paid to the
public, by public men merging their private quarrels in




20            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
the more important contests of the class interests which
they represent. If, indeed, a man like Mr. O'Connell, for instance, contrives to unite in his own person
the suffrages of his countrymen, he then becomes an
object of attack because of his influence; still, we have
none of that direct personality which characterized the
contests of old, but tall is carried on under a thin veil
of irony, or indirect allusion.
Another and a more influential cause of the altered
tone of cotemporary eloquence is the altered character of the House of Commons. The extension of the
elective principle, which dates from the Reform Bill,
has much augmented the numbers and increased the
importance of a class of members for whom orators
half-a-century ago would have entertained the most
profound contempt —the bona fide representatives of
borough constituencies. Public men find it necessary
to conciliate them; and a particular style of speaking
has grown into favor in consequence. Parliamentary
orators now find it necessary to do something more
than merely display their own talents. The commercial calculating spirit of the bourgeoisie-though these
borough Members will very likely reject the -termjeers at fine speaking. It comes to transact business,
not to be amf. ased; for that it has the theater, or the
last new novel. It has railway bills, local government
bills, and free-trade dogmas to uphold or oppose; and
its time is too precious to be wasted on prepared perorations or magnificent exordiums. It requires something practical; prefers figures of arithmetic to figures
of rhetoric, and pounds, shillings, and pence, to poetry.
Great questions it treats to a cui bono?  It knows
nothing about first principles, nor can it calculate remote consequences; but it can tell to a shilling how
much it will lose or gain within a month by a proposed
change. There is a shrewd common sense —the commonest sense, that of self-interest-about it, which




SIR ROBERT PEEL.                21
makes the art of the orator a dangerous one, if he be
bent on dazzling or astonishing. Insensibly the quality of cotemporary eloquence has become deteriorated
in order to meet the taste of these influential men.
Again, this country, during the last twenty years, has
been undergoing a revolution, silent, slow, and gradual,
but still emphatically a revolution. It has been an
age of compromises, and the greatest compromises
of all are still in progress. To speak in the language
of the popular philosophy, we are in a state of transition, a condition of things favorable to the development of the wisdom of the statesman or the philosopher,
but not to the genius of the poet or the orator. Experience has shown that the more remote the prospect
of change, the less an orator hopes for the immediate
accomplishment of that for which he is striving, the
more earnest and enthusiastic is his advocacy; the
more fearless his declaration of principles; the more
brilliant and fascinating the picture he draws of the
good to be attained-a picture, the coarse and glaring
elements of which are the more discovered, the more
near it is brought to the mind's eye by the test of immediate practicability. Finer speeches are made on
behalf of any given object fifty years before it is near
accomplishment, than when the subject is worn threadbare, and the edge of enthusiasm dulled by the probable termination of the conflict. It was so with the
Slavery question; it was so with Reform. The rule
applies to the present hour. The legislature is working out in detail the changes which it was the object
of the people to effect when they carried the Reform
Bill. Great principles are almostentirely in abeyance.
If they are referred to at all, it is chiefly to disavow
them; for our public men are so surrounded by the
men of figures and mechanical patchwork statesmanship, that they are compelled to affect a holy horror
of all lofty political aspiration. lest they should be set




22            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
dowr as theorists or philosophers, and so be ruined for
life. Contests in either House are now no longer the
inspiring scenes they were in the days of the elder
orators; they are mere squabbles of detail, tooth-andnail fights about degrees of concession. Occasionally,
but rarely, a great theme will arise, and then it is we
find that not the orators but the audience are in fault.
It is cheering to see the avidity with which the chief
men of the day will then rush to slake their thirst at
the old fountains. The "'practical" men look on in
utter astonishment at their delirious joy in being thus
able to indulge the daydreams of their youth, and
fructify the study of their manhood. Perhaps their
confidence is just beginning to shake, and they are
looking out for some steady mediocrity in whomni to put
their political faith; when the inebriated sinners, having run the full riot of their intellectual debauch, catch
a faint glimpse of the mischief they are doing, and
rush hastily back to the old steady ways, which they
know from experience are strewn with votes, to them
more precious in their sober moments than all the
flowers of poetry or eloquence. Their dogged, determined dullness after one of these escapades it is edifying to behold.
Such are some of the disadvantages under which
cotemporary orators are struggling. It was necessary to state them briefly, because in estimating the
merits and describing the peculiarities of the leading
public speakers of this country, they will not so much
be judged by comparison with any ideal standard of
what the orator should be, as considered in reference
to those modifying influences which so much impair
their brilliancy.
When Sir Robert Peel made his emphatic declaration, on resigning the government in April, 1835, that
his future life would be spent in the House of Commons, he was, perhaps unconsciously, establishing one




SIR ROBERT PEEL.               23
of the landmarks by which the present age will be distinguished from its predecessors. His prophetic promise
embodied the conviction of a statesman preeminent in
the wisdom which studies the signs of the times, that
hereafter the popular or representative branch of the
legislature, regulated no doubt, to a great degree, by
the will of the monarch and the theoretical right of
veto of the peers, will be the really influential power
in the state.
But Sir Robert, at the same time, exhibited no slight
amount of self-knowledge. Looked at inferentially, that
declaration showed that he had formed a correct estimate of his own position and powers. Sir Robert is an
ambitious man, but his ambition is of a high and honorable character. He covets fame, and a page in the history
of his country, more than personal rank or dignities.
His ambition is not that which would be satisfied,
though it has been flattered, by having twyo queens as
his voluntary guests, with an earl's coronet glittering
in the distance. Yet to one who, with a manly independence, points continually to the origin of his family,
such distinctions might count as something. Sir Robert
Peel's ambition grasps at what is emphatically the
power of modern times, influence over the opinions of
his fellow-men. He wishes to leave the impress of
his own mnind upon the character of his countrymen,
Hle hopes to be regarded, if not as the pilot who we athered the storm, at least as having held the helm amid
the eddies and whirlpools of exasperated riyal interests,
Represented as they are in the House of Commons,
which is the scene of their action, he who would influence them must learn the art of commanding the
ear and swaying the passions or prejudices of that assembly, Of that art Sir Robert Peel has obtained the
magtory.  Therefore he acts wisely, with the examples of Pulteney and Chatham before him, in nat
quitting a sphere where his triumphs are certain, and




24            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
where the amount he may store up of good for his
country, and fame for himself, is incalculable.
Sir Robert Peel- is indeed the master-spirit of the
House of Commons.  Sheil or Macaulay may be more
brilliant, may approach more nearly to the ideal standard of oratory; Lord John Russell may excel in delicate tact, in the skillful appointing of party allusions, or
the unpedantic infusion among them of philosophical
deductions; Lord Stanley may have brought the keenest intellectual powers more ably to the service of political passion; Mr. D'Israeli may have used the weapons of sarcasm and invective with more recklessness
and effect: each of these may, in some separate quality, excel Sir Robert Peel; but no public speaker, be
his eloquence, his tact, his logical power, or his moral
energy or political earnestness, what it may, surpasses
him in the one great art, the constant object of his efforts, of exercising influence over the House of Commons.
To gain this power he sacrifices much. Glimpses
of a subdued enthusiasm, of an unsatisfied imagination,
of ambitious aspirations, of enlarged views of the destiny of man, have been given, at intervals long distant,
in his speeches, enough to show that, had he chosen
to persevere in the more ornamental and flowery paths
of oratory, his ascendency might have been of a different kind. But as it is, looking to his reported speeches only, while you admit their comprehensiveness,
their verbal copiousness and accuracy, their information,
their fertility of illustration, and the sustained self-possession which they indicate, you are still at a loss to
account for his high reputation as an orator. That
concentrated thought and vigorous expression, those
passages of rhetoric prepared and inlaid, those sudden
turns of humor, those quick flashes of imagination,
upon which the fame of great orators, past and present,
has been so mainly founded, you look for in vain in




SIR ROBERT PEEL.                25
the speeches of Sir Robert Peel. In their place you
have a steady, persevering pursuit of the object in view,
a constant reproduction of the opinions it is desired to
inculcate on the auditory, an adroitness in pressing
their known prejudices into the service, and a general
plasticity of sentiment and tone, which render it less
surprising that one so indifferent to the charms of oratory should have at least secured its solid advantages.
His object is not so much to be deemed a great orator
as to preserve his character as a practical statesman.
If the two are incompatible in the opinion of the great
mass of commonplace minds, he gives up the attempt
to attain the one reputation, in order to secure the
other. He never, or at least very seldom, leaves the
level of tile average understanding of the House.  He
chooses his subjects from those which most occupy
the minds of the mercantile and agricultural members.
His illustrations are for the most part utilitarian.  They
point to positive certain advantages, or warn of equally
certain mischiefs.  He will sometimes remind you of
the constitutional fiction that each member is the representative of the whole people, but he well knows
the truth is otherwise-that, in fact, all the rival interests in the country are arrayed against each other in
the House of Commons, and that they are now so
nearly equal in powe'r that preponderance of concession would be fatal to some, while it would unduly exalt others and make them too powerful. Hence the
vagueness (except at some great and rare crisis) of
Sir Robert's annunciations of policy, the empty pom —
posity of his declarations of principle, the verbose inconclusiveness of his whole speeches. How can a
man even strive at high eloquence, whose political fate
condemns him to play such a part?  You can not get
rid of the difficulty by a general charge of mediocrity.
Used in this case, mediocrity is a term of comparison
-disparagement. But where there is no aim at any




26            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
thing higher-on the contrary, a studious avoidancethe term appears misapplied if it means an inherent
mediocrity. To be equal to your position, in whatever
sphere, is a sign of greatness of mind. To shape out
your own means and accomplish your end with themn
entitles you to choose your own measure of praise.
Sir Robert knows his men, and speaks to them in the
language they understand. The Commons are to him
a large jury, and lie manages them in the spirit of an
advocate.
This rejection of all objects save that of obtaining
influence over the House of Commons has necessitated
a constant sacrifice of consistency in opinion.  Sir
Robert has been the leader and mouthpiece of his party through singularly checkered and changing events.
He led their opposition to Emancipation; he led a great
portion of them in their support of that measure. He
was again at the head of their reunited forces in the
struggle against Reform; he was the expounder, if not
the originator, of their conforming and conserving policy
when the Reform-bill had become law. In the long
and glorious campaign of the Conservative minority
against Whig ascendency, who more eloquent or more
apparently sincere in denouncing the policy of the administration than Sir Robert Peel? He comes into
office with an overpowering majority, in which there
is a large infusion of the mercantile interest, and his
first act in power is to adopt those portions of the Whig
measures which would rally the mercantile influence
round him, without utterly compromising the avowed
principles and interests of his own party. These are historical facts, but they would not be introduced in this
sketch, which is not intended to be political, did they not
distinctly bear upon the character of Sir Robert Peel's
public speaking. His speeches when in opposition, and
those made while he has been in power, differ in tone.
The former are full of that ardor of assault which is nat



SIR ROBERT PEEL.              27
ural in a man leading his party on to victory, and whose
only duty is to destroy; the latter breathe a spirit of moderation, a determination to check and curb, which are
equally natural in one who has to build up. All party men
do the same. Sir Robert only does it with more power
and art; with the addition, that it was he who set the
example of defending this species of inconsistency on
the plea of necessity. Studying his career, one might
almost decide that he has been preparing the House
of Commons for his ascendency. To keep his station
as a leader of a party which, though shaken in 1829,
and again in 1830, had within itself the elements of
permanency, it was necessary that he should stand
forth as the uncompromising advocate of their then
opinions. When, as their leader, he seceded fiom
some of those opinions, he strengthened his own position by transferring their faith from the opinion to the
man. Having thus acquired power, having spread his
fame far and wide for practical statesmanship, he turns
round and says, Henceforth I will be free to propose
my plans. You may support them or not, as you
choose. Meanwhile, the same disorganization of party
was, by the same causes, effected among his opponents,
many of whom learned to adopt the cry, ", Measures,
not men," and, at the same time, to look for those
measures to the man whom they had been used to denounce. When, HB." published his print of Sir
Robert Peel, with pickax in hand, macadamizing his
own road by breaking up parties into fragments, he hit
out a great truth.
Sir Robert Peel's speeches are an index to his career,
not merely in the opinions they convey, but in their
quality and tone. In the whole of his early parliament-ary life, indeed, up to within the last fifteen years,
they took, chameleon-like, the hue that prevailed
among his party. They were arguments, sometimes
elaborate and founded on logical deduction.(for. Sir




28           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Robert, with all his mystification, can be logical when
he likes), sometimes temporary and founded on utilitarian considerations, sometimes the sudden growth of
his dexterity in debate, but always arguments in support of a certain set of principles marked out, not by
him, but for him. Yet, even in his most uncompromising harangues, if he could gain his object without
directly pledging himself, he would. For instance, on
Mr. Plunket's motion for a committee on the Roman
Catholic claims, that gentleman had asked, ", What has
the State to do with religion?"  Sir Robert undertook
to answer the question. How did he do it? By an
appeal to the highest principles for the recognition of
the divine authority in the direction of human affairs?
No; but he reminded Mr. Plunket that he had himself
felt it necessary, in deference to the feelings of the
people, to preface his motion by a proclamation of his
attachment to the Church of England. " If," said he,,, Mr. Plunket felt how important would such a declaration be, on account of the influence which religion
has over the minds of the people of England, was not
that reason enough why religion should not be left out
of the question?" Thus the duty of the Church in
the spiritual government of man was made to depend,
first on Mr. Plunket's declaration, and secondly on the
feelings of the people of England. Had those feelings
been the other way, there was an end of the obligation.
Such ad captandum arguments abound in the early
speeches of Sir Robert; they are also to be found in
his late ones. It is. a common trick with him, and his
supporters are so pleased at the temporary triumph it
yields, that they overlook the lurking weakness of principle.
Now it was while engaged in this species of advocacy that Sir Robert Peel's style as a speaker was formed, and he has never wholly discarded the habits he
then acquired. Without going the length of doubting




SIR ROBERT PEEL.              29
the sincerity of Sir Robert Peel in his early character
of Protestant champion, one may be permitted to estimate the degree of his fervor. We are not sitting in
judgment on his political character, but inquiring into
the causes of his style of oratory; and, of all eloquence
which is not mere scholastic exercise, a degree of enthusiasm is a necespary condition. Now it is not easy
to associate the idea of sincere earnestness with the
speeches made by Sir Robert Peel in his character of
advocate of the Conservative party, although they by
no means encourage the suspicion of deliberate insincerity. It is not necessary that you should remind
yourself, that when the future champion first entered
parliament he refused.to pledge himself to oppose
Emancipation, or that he took up the cause when it
afforded a ladder for ambition. No imputation of motives is necessary. The speeches rather suggest the
picture of a man of cold temperament, who had, by
some process or other, brought himself to the conviction that he ought to pursue a certain course, and
whose ingenuity was at work to find good reasons for
it, and arguments in its defense. They are like a
elaborate address spoken fromn a brief. They are very
ingenious, very convincing, very powe'rful: could only
have been delivered by a man of first-rate talents, and
who could command any subject he touched upon: but
they are deficient in true eloquence. There is none
of that lofty thought which follows a reliance on high
principle. On the contrary, they eschew principles,
and fight the battle on details. There is a want of,'heart" in themi. There are none of those sudden
touches which stir the soul. They appeal to the
thinking faculty, not to the moral nature or the passions. The language is correct, nay, faultless, without
being powerful. The illustrations are apt and serviceable, but dry. There is a want of that warm coloring
which an ardent spirit infuses into a favorable theme,




30            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Sir Robert's speeches against the Reform-bill, though
falling very far short of the high eloquence so imposing a theme might have inspired, were more concentrated and vigorous because there he was more in earnest.  He had already made himself the most distinguished man in the old House of Commons. His
ideas, his illustrations, were all associated with a state
of things very different from that which was threatened while that great struggle was proceeding. It was,
therefore, natural that he should view with real alarm
the prospect of so utter a subversion of those established habits of thought on which his influence was founded. At that time all was fear or despair in the minds
of the friends of constitutional government. Hopethe first prompting of that statesmanship which has
since shaped out the art of ruling the new as formerly
the old-had not yet dawned on the Conservative leader. He, therefore, spoke in earnest; and his speeches on the Reform-bill may be pointed to as being the
best he ever made. In fact, he was there speaking
for himself as well as for his party.
But his later speeches during the last two years of
his leadership of opposition, when the victory was won
but the leader delayed the triumph, and since he has
assumed power almost on his own personal responsibility-these reflect all the defects ascribed to the earlier
ones, but much increased: in consequence of the greater personal restraint imposing on him, and the more
extended political insincerity required, as he seems to
think, by a statesman whose position amid rival parties obliges him, in order to gain his objects, to bo on
good terms with all.
If posterity shall decide to rank Sir Robert Peel
among great men, he will rather be classed among the
statesmen than among the orators. He may be talked
of with \Valpole, but not with Pitt or Fox. Oratory
is a severe and exacting art. Its object is not merely




SIR ROBERT PEEL.               31
to excite the passions or sway the judgment, but also
to produce models for the delight or admiration of mankind. It is a study which will not brook a divided attention. The orator speaks rarely, at long intervals,
during which he saturates his mind with his subject,
while casting it in the mold to which his taste guides
him, as being the most calculated to enhance by its
charm the intrinsic worth or beauty of his thoughts.
Like the poet, he works either from love of his theme,
or in the anticipation of triumph. But the exigencies
of modern political warfare have called into being a
class of public speakers, whose effusions fall as far short
of those of the professed orator in permanent beauty
as they excel them in immediate utility. As the character of the House of Commons, remodeled under the
Reform-bill, has become more business-like, so the
most popular and powerful speakers there are those
who, rejecting the beautiful, apply themselves to the
practical. Eloquence has become a positive element
of power. A party leader is compelled to enter with
almost equal energy into the most trifling as into the
most important affairs. He must be always ready with
facts, with arguments, with simulated enthusiasm; he
must identify himself with all the interests of those
whom he would lead. Even were there time for that
preparation which a great orator needs, there is no
scope for his display.
At the head of this class of public speakers-of those
who either do not aim at, or fall short of acquiring, the
divine art which, harmonizing language. till it becomes
a music, and shaping thought into a talisman, gives a
man the right to be called an orator-stands forth conspicuously, Sir Robert Peel. We have already said
that he sacrifices much possible fame as an orator, in
order to secure substantial influence as a statesman.
Some may be prepared to combat this; to say that Sir
Robert Peel's inherent mediocrity is such that he could




32             ORATORS OF TIEM  AGE.
not, if he would, have rivaled even the most distinguished of living orators, much less the mighty dead.
But it is difficult to suppose that a man of such high
and such varied attainments, one in whom the scholastic fervor has survived amid the uncongenial- pursuits
of a stormy political life-one who, as for instance in
his speech at Glasgow, and in some few of his speeches
in parliament, or at public places, has breathed the
purer atmosphere of poetry and philosophy; it is scarcely possible to believe that, had he early devoted himself to the study and imitation of the greatest models, to
the perfection of style, to the discriminating choice of
language, he could not have elevated himself as an
orator to the highest rank.  No; Sir Robert Peel's
aim is different. His political weight depends on his
power of charming or influencing the House of Commnons. He has studied political opinion until even its
minutest shades are made palpable to him. They are
all more or less represented in the popular assembly,
and there-he displays his knowledge of all their wants,
and avails himself, concealing his purpose, of all their
rivalries and prejudices. Not one but finds, from time
to time, an echo in the speeches of Sir Robert Peel.
His caution, and, at the same time, his determination,
are so well known, that the slightest hint he lets fall
as to his purposes is instantly caught up. One cause
of the breathless attention with which he is heard is,
that each section of the House is anxious to penetrate
the mystery of his future policy, knowing well that he
will not utter any direct promise as a mere flourish, or
unless he means to fulfill it. If he be oracular in his
mystery, he is often equally so in his studied mystification. As no man can more clearly explain himself
when he pleases, so no man can more adroitly wrap up
liis real meaning in an unintelligible involvement of
words.  Look at him while in power firom  184l to
1846, while still he was concealing his intentions with




SIR ROBERT PEEL.                33
respect to the commercial policy of the country: Sometimes a sturdy Radical or an indignant Agriculturist
determines to catch the eel by the tail and electrify
him. He puts some plain, direct question, and demands
an answer. You think Sir Robert must now be fairly
posed; his veil must be rent; parties must soon resume
their old habits; for he must say something positive on
which a war-cry can be raised. He rises, leans forward on the table, playing with his glasses, or puts his
hands under the tails of his blue frock-coat; and, in the
most open and candid way, declares his determination
to answer frankly the question that has been put to
him. This is satisfactory, it propitiates. All are on
the qui vive. There is hushed silence; all heads are
stretched forward in expectation of the announcement
of policy. Perhaps Lord John Russell and Lord
Palmerston exchange a glance or smile of incredulity,
for they know their man. Meanwhile the soft, bland
voice has poured itself forth, its faintest tone heard in
the most remote corner; the bearing bespeaks a full
consciousness of the responsibility of the duty of the
moment; the face wears the placid expression of innocence. You are fairly prepossessed for such a man.
But what is he saying? By that cheer from Mr. Cobden and his Sancho, Mr. Bright, he appears to have
said something pleasant to the manufacturers. But
that roar of delight from the other side?  Oh, he has
convulsed the country gentlemen by some well timed
compliment to agriculture, not as yet the object of his
ridicule. And now another cheer, more general, is
the reward of some pompous maxim of the public good.
It is clear the House has warmed to him. The more
kindly they entertain, the more candid grow the speaker's tones, the more earnest is he to do the best which
the state of things allows. An elaborate statement
follows of the different courses open to him, of their
several advantages and disadvantages, in all of which
C




34           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
he adroitly reuses the prejudices slumbering for the
monient around him, and establishes a sympathy with
each; centering hopes in himself, and setting old hatreds
anew against each other: until, having thus led the
various parties into a mental melee, he winds up with
an iupon the whole," leading, with pompous affectation of resolve, to a declaration of what he means to do,
which, in fact, comprises-in an artful woof of phrases,
sounding but bodiless-almost every thing that he does
not mean to do. Meanwhile he has skillfully diverted
the attention of all from the real point at issue, to their
mutual jealousies and asperities. Ten to one he sits
down, amid loud cheers," having uttered much, but
avowed nothing. It may be asked, How can such a
body be so transparently cajoled? The answer is, It
is done-done every day, in almost every speech; and
the more it is done, the more they seem to like it.
This, however, is but one phase of Sir Robert Peel's
parliamentary character. There are occasions-and
they have multiplied during the last year or twowhen he boldly throws aside all these arts of finesse,
and assumes a much more lofty position. Patient,
painstaking, a dissembler, even politically speaking
a hypocrite, in order to obtain power, he no sooner
felt the scepter firm in his grasp, than his mind seemed
to expand; he grew in moral stature; he disdained to
look back at the tortuous path by which he had ascended, but pressed with proud confidence forward. A
magical change came over Sir Robert Peel from the
hour that he finally resolved to make the attempt to
obtain a pure majority of the House of Commons without the aid of the agricultural members: to be the
minister, not of a party, but of the nation. Whether
it was that the desperate nature of the game, and the
magnitude of the stake (nothing less than the fealty
of a party and the reputation of a life) inspired an
unwonted magnanimity; or that, a long sought oppor



SIR ROBERT PEEL.               35
tunity having arrived for throwing off a mask of hateful
subservience, Sir Robert Peel now for the first time
displayed his real character; assuredly there was in
his speeches during the last two years, and especially
the last six months of his official life, a tone to which
his cotemporaries were wholly unaccustomed. With
a sense of power, and a consciousness of self-sacrifice,
he assumed the air, now of a dictator, now of a martyr.
Defiance to the agriculturists, and threats to the legitimate opposition, were backed by a kind of covert appeal
to the public out of doors. Occasional flashes of spirit,
rare but emphatic and decisive instances of plain-speaking, induced a momentary doubt whether this man, so
metamorphosed by a great peril and an unparalleled responsibility, could really be the same Sir Robert Peel
whose name had long been a by-word for plausibility and
slipperiness in statesmanship, whom you had so often
seen shivering with ludicrous indecision, on the very
brink of a positive declaration. But it is a singular fact,
illustrating the real character of Sir Robert Peel, that
at every great crisis of his public life,-on bringing in
the Emancipation-bill, on assuming office in 1834, and
finally, on introducing the measure for repeal of the
Corn-law, —he has thus flung aside his disguise, and
has spoken out plainly and boldly his real mind, regardless of personal consequences. This may have been
magnanimity; it may have been moral hardihood: political passions will' always usurp in such cases the
decision of a calm judgment.
If Sir Robert has acquired, by long study and practice, the art of leading and molding to his will a body
of several hundred intelligent men, he may be pardoned
if the matter of his speeches be not first-rate. Excepting occasional passages of the kind just referred to, the
character given already of his earlier speeches applies to
his later ones. Neither the thoughts nor the language
ever rise above the level of common sense. They are




36           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
political manoeuvers and purposes put into language,
because a free constitution requires that the people
shall at least seem to be parties to the policy of statesmen. The difference between Sir Robert Peel and
other statesmen is, that he does not think in public,
does not invite the public to think with him. He forms
his plans out of the elements of thought he finds in
the House of Commons, and trusts to each party liking
the ingredient it has separately contributed to the hash.
A stranger to the House of Commons, who, having
heard of Sir Robert Peel's influence there, had conceived some ideal portrait of a great orator, would
assuredly be disappointed. He would observe in his
speeches a want of strong reasoning on fixed principles, a lax, loose, many-sided mode of viewing the most
vital questions, and a great command of that sort of
logic which takes in common minds by clever fallacies.
He would look in vain for vivid imagination, or profound
thought. He would find no outline of a complete
scheme of policy, nor any one ruling idea with which
his own views and political sympathies could associate.
The style he would pronounce inartificial; not that
there, is no attempt at construction, but that the speech
is so crowded with extraneous matter, and so many
ends have to be gained by it, that a perfect plan would
be impossible. He would complain of verbosity; of
repetition of ideas, nay, whole arguments, in different
words, and then imperfectly expressed; of a pervading
pretension to something very profound which constantly
falls short of accomplishment. Of the action used by
the speaker he would be tempted to say that it was
neither modest as becomes an unassuming reasoner,
nor imposing as ought to be the action of a great orator. He would see at one time a pompous solemnity
leading to nothing; at another, the most trivial postures
of everyday, after-dinner conversation ushering in the
most important topics. He would notice with surprise




SIR ROBERT PEEL.              37
the orator's elbow resting on the table before him,
while his pointed finger shakes ominously at his opponents, and one leg is crossed over the other, the posture of a man laying down an argument to a familiar
friend; or, his thumbs buried in the pockets of his
capacious waistcoat, while his coat is thrown back ostentatiously, as some foreigners do to show their fine
velvet linings; or, as is more commonly the case, his
hands hidden under his coat-tails, whfle he stands
much as he might with his back to a fire-these are
not exactly the positions or gestures of a great orator.
But, on the other hand, whatever the defects of Sir
Robert Peel, when his speeches or his actions are looked
at critically, you can not fail to admire his ease and selfpossession, the thorough knowledge he has, even to the
minutest details, of every subject he undertakes; the
adroitness with which he enters into all the different
feelings, prejudices, and interests which surround him;
and the art he evinces in wielding them so as to produce all the appearance of enthusiasm, and in molding
them to his purpose of subduing their varieties to one
harmonious course of action. In the art of managing
the House of Commons he is, indeed, unrivaled.




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.
LORD JOHN RUSSELL, like his great rival, Sir Robert Peel, depends for his parliamentary influence upon
his proficiency in the art of managing his audience.
He does not aspire to, or at all events does not attain, those high flights of rhetoric, or declamation, or
poetical embellishment, which, with the aid of other
commanding qualities, go to form the characteristics
of the professed orator. In these departments of the
art of public speaking he is excelled by many of his
own supporters,-by Mr. Macaulay, by Mr. Sheil, and
even by Lord Palmerston; but there is no man on the
Liberal side of the House who exercises so much general influence over the opinions or conduct of his party,
no man on that side whose views on all questions are
listened to with more respect and expectation by the
House generally, than are those of Lord John Russell.
In this kind of popularity he certainly ranks next to
Sir Robert Peel.
The traits and characteristics of'Lord John Russell
are not so marked to a superficial observer as are those
of Sir Robert Peel. The tenor of his political life has
been more uniform, and he has not filled so large a
space in the public eye. Yet when we look along the
", Liberal" benches, and observe how many men of a
high order of parliamentary talent are ranged there, it
must be confessed that the man who, by general congent, has been elevated to the leadership of the party,




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.                39
must have, on some score or other, some very strong
and decided claims on our attention.
Lord John Russell, in fact, is almost as great a proficient in the tactics of parliamentary management as
Sir Robert Peel himself. He is the rival of that right
honorable baronet in more senses than one. He is
not merely his rival for place, and for popularity out
of doors, but he also competes with him, and successfully, for the favor of the House of Commons as a
speaker. The same, or nearly the same arts which
secure to Sir Robert Peel his attentive and willing auditory, also work out the same results, although in a
modified degree, for Lord John Russell. But the
sphere of his influence is more confined. What Sir
Robert Peel is to the whole House, Lord John Russell is to his party. Formed as it is of the most discordant elements, and difficult as it is for the representatives of interests and opinions so various to act in
harmony; yet such is the skill with which the noble
lord humors their foibles, adapts himself to their prejudices, selects their points of agreement as the ground
of common cooperation, and echoes all their favorite
views and opinions, that his persuasion and address
induce them to acquiesce in courses of action the most
contradictory, the most opposed to their avowed and
pledged principles.
As the mover of the Reform-bill, Lord John Russell has secured for himself a page in history. Up to
that period his parliamentary position may be traced
to the historical career of his family. His selection by
the Whig government of 1830 to introduce the bill,
was a tribute to the party services of the house of
Russell; but from the date of the passing of that measure, or at least from a time very shortly after it, his
influence in the House of Commons grew to be personal. He was at first a sort of pet of the Whig party; and while the men who occupied the most prom



40           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
inent position in the Grey government were on the
arena, he was, with almost the single exception of his
being allowed to introduce the Reform-bill, kept in
what was comparatively the background. Always a
sincere politician, consistent as far as the necessities
of his party'would allow, he used at this time to occupy himself chiefly with echoing their constitutional
maxims, seldom aspiring to the introduction of any po~
litical deductions of his own. There were certain political views which used to be designated as,, Whig
principles;" and, although these suffered a temporary
disturbance by the violent agitation which heralded
and accompanied the measure of Reform, still Lord
John Russell was to be found, at all possible and convenient times, repeating those principles, and avowing,
somewhat ostentatiously, that they formed the foundation of.his political creed.
But when the great men of the Reform ministry
passed from the scene, or were absorbed in the ranks
of their opponents, Lord John Russell shot up into a
leader. Whether he took the lead-by mere rotation,
or whether his party had discovered in him superior
talents, the public did not know; but he had not long
held the post of manager of the House of Commonshe being then the organ of government there-ere it
became evident that under that smooth exterior of quiet
imitation, for which he had been ranked as little more
than an aristocratic puppet, there lay a steadfastness
of chariacter, a power of observation, a skill in debate,
and, above all, an habitual tact, which qualified him to
play a much more important part than he had hitherto
done in the game of politics, and made it worth the
while of men of all parties to study his peculiarities, and ascertain his principles. It was observable,
too, that with power and its responsibilities came a
consciousness of independence from those trammels
which a state of comparative political pupilage had im



LORD JOHN RUSSELL.              41
posed. Called upon to act for himself, and held responsible to the country for his opinions, he less frequently spoke the established and hereditary views of
his party, and more often those conclusions of his own
which he had been for a long time forming, from a
careful and extensive observation of the signs of the
times and the wants of the people. His speeches still
contained much of the old leaven; but there was infused into them a more independent, philosophic, and
statesmanlike spirit.
We have already placed Lord John Russell second
to Sir Robert Peel in the art of managing the House.
He certainly must yield to him in that Protean spirit,
that plasticity of temperament, which enables the right
honorable baronet to enter at will into, and personate
for the time being, the many opposite characters which
he has filled during his long career. Although Lord
John Russell has at times shown that he is cognizant
of all the many shades of difference which mark the
opinions of opposite sections of his party-although he,
the aristocratic Whig, can sympathize for the hour with
the Political Economist, the advocate of Extension of
the Suffrage, the Free-trader, or the Dissenter, still
the scale of his operations is not to be compared with
the magnificent sphere occupied by Sir Robert Peel.
Nothing short of what the late Charles Mathews used
to call his monopolylogue will satisfy the latter: the
former is content with playing all the parts in his own
peculiar line; and now and then, perhaps on great occasions, one or two additional, provided always they
are in the regular drama. But although Lord John
Russell, either from being restrained by principle or
from the want of skill, may not attempt those bold and
gigantic delusions, those mesmeric practices on the
credulity of the House of Commons, which characterize
the public career of Sir Robert Peel, yet there are
many points in respect of which he may, as -a speaker,




42            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
be regarded as superior to his rival. If he does not
accomplish as much by his orations, they often exhibit
higher qualities of mind, and produce the immediate
result of pleasing the auditory with much less appearance of preparation and effort. Sir Robert gains his
end by a tremendous expenditure of words, a sacrifice
of straightforward argument, a transparent mystification, and a perpetual repetition of his views, which
would be tedious even in a legal advocate. Lord John
trusts rather to a simple, clear, and plain exposition of
his meaning, unambitious, yet pregnant with thought.
He steals in unpretending guise on the attention of his
hearers, pursues his undeviating course without apparent effort, unfolds all his views without suspicion of
preparation, while leaving no material point undisposed
of; and then, suddenly, when such a thing is least expected, he strikes out some original and bold conception, something that rings at once on the intellectual
ear as sterling gold ere even it is tested, that bears
away the admiration even of those who are most prepared to contest the truth of the proposition it contains,
while it charms the whole House into applause. One
such accidental and apparently unpremeditated stroke
raises him instantly far higher in the esteem of the
House than all the labored, though successful, sophistries of an orator like Sir Robert Peel.
In fact, a little more care and attention to obvious
rules, to the construction and arrangement of sentences, and the artificial alternation of brilliant with merely level speaking, would render Lord John Russell a
finished, if not an elegant speaker. His language is
in a high degree correct. His sentences are frequently so constructed as to possess both force and beauty;
yet, from the careless adoption of loose, conventional,
conversational forms of speech, they at first sight appear clumsy and feeble. A speaker who ushers in
some fine philosophical maxim, some concentration of




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.             43
political thought, which is perhaps to become the
watchword of party for the season, and to excite the
serious criticism of observant men,-he who, having
matter to utter of this high order, having already
clothed the idea mentally in the most elegant, pointed,
or antithetical form of words, introduces it with a,, Well, then, I say, sir," hem —ing, and ha-ing, and
hesitating, like a school-boy on examination-day, deserves his fate, while willfully provoking it, if careless
and unobservant listeners, judging only from superficial
inaccuracies of speech, and comparing them with the
choice and elegant diction of a Macaulay or a Sheil, or
the pure correctness of a Stanley, set him down as a
clumsy and imperfect speaker,-one whom fortune, the
chance of high birth, not original merit, has placed in
his present exalted position. Yet so it is. Lord John
Russell will give utterance to sentences worthy, both
for the idea and the language, of being embalmed among
the remarkable sayings of distinguished men; but he
will preface them, and perhaps follow them up, with
the common chit-chat verbiage of a gossip's tale.
There is a terseness, simplicity, and brevity, about
his annunciations of opinion very similar to the characteristics of the style of the Duke of Wellington; and
proceeding, longo intervallo, from the same decision
of character. He seems to weigh well all he utters.
He does not speak from impulse, or only on the suggestion of the moment, but rather seems as if he had
a reserve of opinions, giving forth only those portions
of his political doctrines which are for the time being
suited to the views and interests of his party. He
develops just as much as he thinks their wants require, and is seldom or never betrayed into an advance
beyond the line of demarkation he has resolved on. It
is as if he possessed an armory from which he furnishes just those weapons which fiom time to time he
thinks necessary. He is an admirable debater, from




44            ORATORS OF THE AGE,
his coolness, readiness, and phlegmatic self-possession.
His historical knowledge is as great as that of Sir Robert Peel, and he equals him in his intimate acquaintance with all great constitutional precedents, and the
established dicta of former party leaders. He has also
a remarkably clear and ready view of the position of
parties, both at the present time and formerly, and
knows how to avail himself most ably of their many inconsistencies. He has a perfect recollection of the,, points" of former debates, and the dilemmas into
which the inconsistencies of his adversaries may have
thrown them. These he often refers to most happily
and unexpectedly, and with a kind of good-natured
slyness of allusion wholly free from party animosity.
There is not the slightest acrimony in his personal allusions.:He is never ungenerous to an opponent.
Delicate irony, or the clever juxtaposition of past with
present professions, these are the limits of his personality. He is the gentleman even in the greatest heat
of debate. His triumphs, won in this easy way by tact
and intellectual keenness, unaided by passion, contrast
favorably with the costly victories of debaters like Lord
Stanley, Mr. Disraeli, or Mr. Roebuck. Yet Lord
John Russell is not deficient in dignity or manliness
when the occasion calls it forth. He has a great reserve of moral strength and energy. When the acknowledged organ in the House of a tottering ministry,
his Radical followers used frequently to take advantage
(or, rather, to try to do so) of the weakness of the government. At a time when a vote was a victory, a timid
man would have been disposed to submit to this ungenerous treatment.  Not so Lord John Russell.
Under his quiet exterior of almost proud indifference
lies an habitual determination of character. He knew
that to seem weak was to become weak; he therefore
always spoke out. A remarkable instance of this was
the determined way in which he once put down Mr.




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.              45
Wakley, when he thought to lay his heavy hand upon
him. He was flung in an instant. This was when the
former Whig government was on its last legs.
Lord John Russell advances his opinions with remarkable modesty of manner. For his standing and
parliamentary influence, he is one of the most unassuming speakers in the House of Commons. Yet,
withal, you perceive that what he advances he intends
to adhere to. Although there is none of that arrogance
and presumption of success which so often characterize
the exordiums of established speakers, there is evident
firmness and self-reliance. The modesty of manner
arises from personal peculiarity, or perhaps from deference for the great constitutional character of the
assembly; not from mental doubt or hesitation. Lord
John Russell's mind is suggestive, not dogmatic. Yet,
although he submits his conclusions respectfully to the
House, he betrays no want of confidence in their soundness. His deference is personal, not intellectual. On
the contrary, he grapples boldly with questions. Unlike Sir Robert Peel, he does not exhaust himself and
the patience of the House with elaborate statements
of the different courses which he "might" take, as
though politics were a mere game of chance or calculation, but he takes his side at once, chooses his
course, and stands by his choice. As he never takes
extreme views, he is the better able to argue boldly on
his avowed principles.
Occasionally, his diction rises into a lofty simplicity
of style-a clear-seeing impartiality, showing his mind
elevated above the excitements of the hour —which is
almost too free from party spirit for the atmosphere of
the House of Commons. You might almost suppose
you were hearing history read. This does not always
suit the vulgar and depraved appetite of some of his supporters, who require that their leader shall be more
impregnated with their own political and sectarian




46            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
animosities. Now and then you hear murmurs of rebellion in their ranks; out-of-doors they are most valiant in their refusal to be any longer led by such a
faine'ant, as they term him; but, when the time for action comes, they are glad enough to range themselves
again under his banner. His coolness and tact, they
have learned, are better guides than their prejudices
or passions. Extreme opinions, they know, however
well they may point a speech on the hustings, will not
do for the legislature. Accordingly they always repent
their insubordination.  Their quiet, determined little
leader holds himself aloof, till they come on bended knee
to claim his forgiveness.
But when it suits Lord John Russell to descend into
the arena of party, and adopt a more decided tone, he
can do so with remarkable effect. The force of contrast makes his declarations of war more to be feared.
As he seldom advances but when there is a chance of
making an impression, the raising of his standard is apt
to spread alarm among his antagonists. No man in the
House is then more ready with a battle-cry. He concantrates and embodies the party hope of the hour
with remarkable force of phrase and felicity of diction.
Surprise is an element of success in eloquence as it is
in humor. Without apparent effort, and while pursuing the unambitious tenor of his ordinary level speaking, on these occasions he suddenly and unexpectedly
hits out some short, pithy, pointed sentence, containing, in few words, and readily remembered (sometimes
depending for its attraction on the trick of alliteration,
sometimes on the inherent force and simplicity of the
proposition), the political dogma which finds' favor
with his party at the moment, or that principle which
he intends shall be the object of their united efforts for some time to come. Stan.ding out in bold
relief from the monotonous commonplace, or the even
simplicity of demonstration, which have formed the




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.              4 i
rest of the speech, they have all the air of apothegms
or maxims, and are caught up and repeated by the
noble lord's followers, and made the channels of their
own thoughts. Stamped from his mint, they are taken
for sterling gold; though, to say the truth, they are
not always of the true metal.
He has a remarkably neat mode of turning a phrase.
He sometimes, though rarely, sets his ideas in a frame
of highly wrought diction. Almost any speech on a
great topic will afford instances of this. His choice of
language is often felicitous, and more effective from
the concealment of effort. His speech on Sir Robert
Peel's first free-trade budget, in which he spoke of
the premier's plan as i, disturbing, but failing to settle,"
affords some instances of this. Again, he is happy in
impromptu,-a very rare quality in our modern parliament, where almost every speaker prepares himself.
It may seem superfluous to remind the reader of Lord
John's successful hit at Sir Francis Burdett. When
that honorable baronet, after having been in the Whig
ranks all his life, joined the Conservatives, disgusted
at the attempted tampering with Church property, he
alluded to some observations of Lord John Russell as
being dictated by ",the cant of patriotism." The noble lord, with great promptitude, replied, that if there
was the ", cant of patriotism," there was also such a
thing as the, recant" of patriotism. This allusion to
the turbulent early life of Sir Francis, although in itself but a trivial play on words, was powerfully effective,
because so sudden and apt. A more delicate andpointed, and a less obvious retort would not have told so
well in such a congregation of many grades of intelligence as the House of Commons. Again: no man excels Lord John Russell in the difficult art of talking
philosophy, or assuming the didactic tone, in a popular
assembly, without the appearance of pedantry. His
mind is deeply imbued with the hereditary opinions




48           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
of his party-in fact, he is a sort of model Whig, and
although he is compelled by the exigencies of modern
politics to take part in a species of agitation, he always
seems to view the events of the hour with the eyes of
his ancestors. Although the apostle of progress, he is
always more disposed to look back than forward. The
political child of popular agitation, he seems to be ashamed of his parent. He would now rather have measures
which he approves carried by the authority of the old
maxims and principles ofhis forefathers than by mob will.
He is an aristocrat of liberal views playing reluctantly
the part of democracy; and his speeches present the
medley of principles which such a position would induce.
Notwithstanding the many points of excellence in
his speeches, Lord John Russell's personal exterior
and style of speaking are most disappointing. Remembering the pleasure he has given you on paper and
the prominent position he holds in the House of Commens, your first sensation on seeing and hearing him
is one of disappointment. Can that little, quiet, fragile,
modest, almost insignificant-looking man, so neat, plain,
and formal in his black coat and snow-white neckcloth,
who sits with his legs crossed ", anyhow" and his hat
overshadowing his small sharp features till they are
scarcely seen,-can that be Lord John Russell?  Is
he really the leader of that compact and numerous
party? And has he the power or the skill to rule and
rein them in; to amalgamate all their discordant varieties; to tame their political violence, of which you
have heard and seen so much; to pour the oil of his
philosophic spirit on the troubled waters of their excited passions; to beguile them into suspending or giving
up their cherished opinions and settled purposes, and
cordially uniting in working out his views, and respecting, if not obeying, his will? When you regard the
physique of Sir Robert Peel; his full, commanding
figure, his intellectual face and head, his handsome,




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.              49
expressive countenance, his erect and manly bearing;
you are half tempted to believe, on trust, all you have
heard of his magical influence over the House of Conmmons: but no persuasion will induce you to think that
the diminutive model of a man who has been pointed out to you as Lord John Russell-whom  Lord
Palmerston, his next neighbor, might almost dandle in
his arms-can possess those qualities which history tells
us are necessary in order to sway popular assemblies.
In a few moments he takes off his hat and rises fiom
his seat; advancing to the table to speak. Now, for
the first time, you see something that prepossesses.
His head, though small, is finely shaped; it is a highly
intellectual head, and the brow is wide and deep. The
face, broad and firm-set, sphinx-like in shape, is not of
faultless outline, but it is strongly marked with character. A thoughtful repose, slightly tinged with melancholy, pervades it. The features are sharply defined; they look more so in the extreme paleness of
the complexion-a paleness, not of ill health, but of
refined breeding.  The mouth is wide,' but finely
shaped; surrounded with a marked line, as though it
were often made the vehicle of expression, while the
lips are firmly compressed, as from habitual thought.
The eye is quick and intelligent, the nose straight and
decided, the eyebrows dark and well archedf and the
whole face, which seems smaller still than it is from
the absence of whiskers, is surmounted by dark and
scanty hair, which leaves disclosed the whole depth of
an ample and intellectual forehead. A moment more,
and you are struck with the proportions, though small,
o'f his frame-his attitude erect, his chest expanded.
You begin to perceive that a little man need not of necessity be insignificant. There is a presence upon
him, a firm compactness of outline, a self-possessed
manner, a consciousness of latent strength, that lead you
to abandon your unfavorable view of his physical attriD




50           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
butes, and to hope much from his moral and intellectual
qualities.
He speaks, and for a time your disappointment returns. You have seen him make one step forward to
the table, look all round the house, their make a step
back again into his old place; then with the right arm
stretched partly out, and his face half turned to his own
supporters, he begins. His voice is feeble in quality,
and monotonous. It is thin, and there is a twang upon
it which smacks of aristocratic affectation; but it, is distinct. He is, perhaps, about to answer some speech,
or to attack some measure, of Sir Robert Peel. He
goes on in level strain, uttering a few of the most obvious commonplaces of apology or of deprecation, till
the idea of mediocrity grows irresistibly upon your
mind. Yet the House seem to listen anxiously-they
would not do so if they did not know their man.
Wait a little. A cheer comes fiom around him; it
bears in it the effeminate laugh of Mr. Ward, the deep
bassoon note of Mr. Warburton, the shrill scream of
Mr. Sheil, the loud hearty shout of Mr. Wakley, and
the delighted chorus of the Radicals and manufacturers. Nay, even on the opposite side, the," point" has
*not been without its effect, as many a suppressed titter
testifies. All the level commonplace, it seems, was but
the stringing of the bow; at the moment when least
expected, the cool, prepared marksman has shot his
arrow of keen and polished sarcasm at Sir Robert
Peel, whom it has fleshed, if not transfixed. You follow the speaker a little longer, now fairly interested in
him, even though opposed to his opinions, and you find
that he has more of those arrows in his quiver. And
then he proceeds, during a speech of perhaps an hour
and a half, developing those characteristics of his mind
which we have described in detail; now earning approval by his enlarged and statesmanlike views, now
lowering himself to the level of the various prejudices




LORD JOHN RUSSELL.             51
of his party; alternately compelling respect and admiration or provoking something like contempt; now
rousing his own side to cheers against their opponents,
and now stimulating those opponents to laugh at or
suspect their own leaders; but always exhibiting power, self-possession, tact, skill, parliamentary and political knowledge, command of language, and felicity of
diction, surpassed by but a few of the distinguished men
of the day.
Meanwhile you have lost sight of the defects of the
speaker-defects of voice, manner, and action, which
place him as far below Sir Robert Peel, in the merely
mechanical part of oratory, as his occasional elevation
of thought and happy choice of language place him in
these respects above him. If you had not been thus
carried away, you would have been speedily wearied
by the drawling monotony of voice, the hesitation in
delivery, the constant catching up and repetition of
words, and even of portions of sentences; and you
would have noticed that the only action used was a
constant stepping forward from the bench to the table
and back again, an occasional thumping of the latter
with the right hand, when not rested permanently on
it, a folding of the arms akimbo, or an action peculiar
to this orator when he rests his left elbow on his right
hand, while the left arm, raised perpendicularly, is
held up as if in warning at his opponents.
As a party leader, Lord John Russell inspires more
confidence, and, if the term may be used, regard, than
Sir Robert Peel. This follows naturally from his
greater consistency. In submitting to his guidance,
men know within some reasonable limit what they will
be expected to do. Lord John Russell leads, Sir Robert Peel drives; Lord John Russell is liked, Sir Robert Peel feared. Between the former and the different sections of Liberals there is usually a pretty good
understanding. He does not go far enough for the ul



52           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
tras, but as far as he goes they can go with him. He
carries his party along with him in his measuresmakes them sharers, as it were, in his councils. Sir
Robert Peel prefers to rule alone; he matures his plans
and calls on his followers to support them if they
choose, or to refuse, he cares not which. Therefore
they are usually on doubtful terms with each other.
On the other hand, with the whole House collectively,
the more commanding and decided character of the
premier gives him a more extended influence. Sir
Robert Peel has more admirers, Lord John Russell
more personal followers.
In the struggle for power Lord John Russell has
been but the pioneer of Sir Robert Peel. He prepared
the public mind for the measures which his rival has
passed. The one has borne all the odium of suggesting them, the other has secured the eclat, such as it is,
of having carried them. Sir Robert Peel's character
as a statesman can be judged of because he has held
office, with power. What Lord John Russell would
do can not be known, because, although he has held
office, it has been without power. The former secured
the start in the race. He could never before develop
his real character, because in the struggle for power
he was compelled to hide it. Lord John Russell was
in a position to express his wishes and to hint at his
policy, but the weakness of his government was such
that he could not carry it out.
But, although Lord John Russell has been so far
outwitted, he is increasing his influence in the House.
It has been shown that he has some qualities which
place him as a speaker, in some respects, above Sir
Robert Peel. He has maintained his personal influence with his party, and his style of eloquence is eminently suited to them. It is impossible to say of what
importance this personal following may be to him hereafter.




THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.
"THE Duke of Wellington an orator! He who
never uttered two consecutive sentences without hesitation; who exhibits a hardy contempt for all the
graces of language and style; and in whom the faculty
of imagination, if it ever existed in his mind, has been
dormant for half-a-century! Do you mean seriously
to class him as an orator?"
This would be a very natural question if it were
admitted that oratory is a merely extrinsic and superficial art, aiming at skill in the choice of words and the
shaping of sentences, and trusting for its hold on the
human mind rather to the vehicle in which the thought
is conveyed than to the truth or force of the thought
itself. But there are degrees and classes of oratory as
there are of poetry. The chief object of oratory is to
persuade or convince, to bring the mind of the hearer
into agreement and cooperation with that of the speaker; and this is often effected with success in proportion to the sincerity and straightforwardness brought
to bear on the task. Some of the most effective and
influential speakers have been men who never received
any regular training to the art of elocution; and among
these a place may be claimed for the Duke of Wellington.
Although it is now fifty-six years since the Duke of
Wellington was returned as a representative to the
Irish parliament, and although, after the Union, he
continued, with the exception of some intervals of




54           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
time, to be a member of the United parliament as representative of an English borough in the House of
Commons, until he was raised to the Peerage; we
should not forget that it is only within the last twenty
or twenty-five years that he has taken so active a part
in parliamentary life, or occupied so commanding a
position as a politician in the state. In the earlier part
of his career, he made no great figure as a speaker.
When in the Irish parliament, he gave no promise of
that intellectual distinction which he afterward achieved, but some of the most obvious characteristics of his
public speaking were as observable then as they are
now. There was the same abruptness of delivery, the
same plain, straightforward, but unassuming expression
of his views, that has since been the distinguishing
feature of his speaking in the House of Lords. A cotemporary observer speaks of his address as being unpolished, and says, that he showed no promise of his
subsequent unparalleled celebrity. During the years
that intervened between this period and his second entrance into political life-years which witnessed his
successes -in India, his steady progress of triumph in
Spain, and the final glories of Waterloo, his mind was
occupied with thoughts and pursuits far different from
those which qualify a man to become an influential
public speaker. And when, at length, the course of
events forced him into a position of responsibility which
compelled him repeatedly to speak in parliament, he
had nothing to rely on but the strong natural resources
of his mind, the noble candor and sincerity of his disposition, and the consideration which he might hope
would be extended to his deficiencies as a speaker, on
account of his brilliant services as a soldier. As the
character of his mind developed itself, it presented an
aspect of strange originality to the civilians around him.
They could not at first understand, though they soon
learned to appreciate, that admirable organization of




THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.             55
mind, matured, if not produced, by the habits of military
life; an organization so perfect as to retain all subjects
of discussion, all principles of political science, all the
facts with which his mind was stored, in that exact
subordination which was their relative due; and so
well maintained as to enable him to call them up and
use them for his purpose, with a readiness to which
even the most practiced minds around him were str&ngers, from their not having been subjected to the same
discipline.
The architecture of the duke's system of political
opinions was equally simple and equally perfect. As a
Tory he built on the foundation:of certain fundamental
principles, which were to him the articles of a political
creed; and the whole of the rest of the structure was
in perfect proportion, the ornamental being everywhere
secondary to the useful, and a rigid economy being observed of all unnecessary accessories of opinion. But,
as if he were again constructing his redoubts or his
fortresses, although the masonry of his political system
was as solid as if it were intended to last forever, yet,
at the word of command from his sovereign, or under
the pressure of that iron necessity which a soldier, without fearing it, respects, this elaborate structure would
be abandoned, deserted, and a new one commenced
with equal earnestness in new fields of action and on a
new foundation. The duke, as a statesman, fought
bravely and steadfastly in defense of the principles it
was his mission to uphold; but when the time came
that the invaders could no longer be resisted, he surrendered manfully and without disgrace. He only
abandoned one strong defense of the Constitution in
order to take his stand behind another.. As earnestly
as he had fought against Emancipation, so did he renew the battle against Reform. But, true to his military habits, when the king asked him to form a government on the principle of moderate reform, he at ence




56            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
obeyed the word of command, saying,,, If he had refused to assist his majesty because he had hitherto
been opposed to reform, he could not have shown his
face in the streets for shame of having deserted his
sovereign in circumstances so painfuland alarming." In
like manner, in November, 1834, although he declined
to become premier, he so far braved popular opprobrium as to undertake, until the arrival of Sir Robert
Peel, the four highest civil offices in the state; and in
the last great crisis, that of Corn-law Repeal, he equally
exhibited this distinguishing trait of his public life, by
fighting the battle of the Corn-laws up to the latest moment that his party continued resolute to maintain
them, as though utterly ignorant that any great movement for the repeal was being agitated in the Cabinet.
The Duke of Wellington's mind is so constituted as
to render it impossible for him to make use of those
arts by which public speakers usually seek to influence
their audiences. In this sense of the term, he could
not be an orator if he would. He has no idea of separating his subject from himself, of looking at it in its
external bearings without reference to his own views.
He can not, as Lord Brougham or Lord Lyndhurst
would, view it as a theme for the exercise of his intellectual ingenuity. He has no idea of design or of
coloring; does not look at it with the eye of an artist,
studying what will best conduce to a grand effect, or
where the light and shade are to be thrown in. He
never thinks of preparing exordiums or perorations, or
of attenuating parts of his discourse that the strong
points may seem stronger. He never plays with a
question. Politics are with him a serious reality, not
a mere game. Nor are they a passion, as with men of
warmer temperament; they are rather part of a grave
duty, to be dealt with, not from choice, but because his
position in the country requires that he should be mIixed up with them. He never speaks for the sake of




THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.            57
display, apparently having no vanity of that sort.
Whenever he rises to address the House, it is because
necessity compels him-because the debate would be
incomplete until the most distinguished man of his time
had delivered his sentiments.
Being thus obliged to speak, he says no more than
the occasion absolutely requires. He gives utterance
to the real sentiments of his mind, the unbiased conclusions suggested by a cool head and an almost unparalleled experience. You can see at once that this is
done without effort, and, above all, without any desire
for effect. It is a labor of duty, not of love. It is not
sought by him, yet he is ready when called on. Having
said his say, he seems relieved of an unpleasant load,
and sits down abruptly as he rose, indifferent whether
what he has delivered has pleased or displeased his
audience. These, it is quite unnecessary to say, are
not the characteristics of professed orators. Yet the
duke will produce, on the floor of the House of Lords,
as startling and, perchance, a more permanent effect,
than the most ingenious and eloquent of them all.
The agencies by which his influence works on the
legislature and the public are of a far higher order.
Look at the moral weight he brings with him. With
a reputation already historical, what man of the day,
be he even the greatest, can command the respect
which his mere presence inspires? It may seem a:
trifle, but it is one pregnant with deep meaning, that
the only individual in this country, except the members of the royal family, to whom all men, the highest
and the lowest, uncover themselves on the public highway, is the Duke of Wellington. If the vulgar, the
indifferent, the triflers, the ignorant, pay this homage
to him where no homage is due to any man, shall not
the same sentiment prevail within the walls of the
House of Lords, among those whose privileges and
social preeminence rest upon hereditary gratitude?




58            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
The Duke of Wellingtofi in his place in the House
of Lords, stands apart from and above all the other
peers. There may be men of more ancient lineage,
there are certainly men of more commanding and
brilliant talents of the sort that captivate an assembly,
whether composed of the high or the low: but he
transcends them all in the possession of that power
which is created by a voluntary intellectual submission.
Plain, unpretending, venerable, as he is, he seems encircled by an atmosphere of glory. All physical defects, all the infirmities of age, are lost in the light of
his great fame. He seems already to belong to the
past, and to speak with its authority. Often oracular
in his denunciations and in his decisions, strange to say,
those who hear him seem to believe that he is so.
And it is not among pigmies that he is thus morally
a giant. The deference and respect paid to the Duke
of Wellington in the House of Lords come from men
of the highest order of minds. Neither political differences nor personal vanities interpose any obstacle
to its free expression. Powerful and successful orators and statesmen, aristocratic demagogues, grave
lawyers and erratic lawgivers, whatever may be their
mutual jealousies or their customary arrogance, all
yield at once to his moral supremacy. The man of
the present day who stands next to him in the extent,
if not the quality of his fame, he who is distinguished
among his cotemporaries not more for his parliamentary and political successes than for his mental and
moral insubordination-he, too, ostentatiously proclaims
himself the devoted admirer and follower of the Duke
of Wellington. The homage is too universal not to
be sincere.
It is this moral weight or influence that gives to the
public speaking of the Duke of Wellington its chief
characteristics. He can speak with an authority which
no other man would dare to assume, and which, if as



THIE DUKE OF WEILINGTON.           59
surned by any other man, would not be submitted to.
For the same reason he can dispense with all the explanation and apology which No often render the
speeches of other men-ridiculous.  He has no need-of
a hypocritical humility or an affected desire of abstinence from that great necessity of politicians —speechmaking. He knows both that he is expected to speak
and that what he has to say will be held to be of value.
He knows that no decision will be come to till he has
been heard, and that the chances are in favor of his
opinion prevailing even with those opposed to him, unless the current of political feeling should happen at
the time to run very strongly indeed. These incumbrances of ordinary speakers being cast aside, the duke
can afford to run at once full tilt at the real question in
dispute. To see him stripping the subject of all extraneous and unnecessary adjuncts, until he exposes it
to his hearers in its real and natural proportions, is a
very rich treat. He scents a fallacy afar off; and hunts
it down at once without mercy. He has certain constitutional principles which with him are real standards. He measures propositions or opinions by these
standards, and as they come up to the mark or fall
short of it, so are they accepted or disposed of. Sometimes, but rarely, he carries this inflexible system too
far, and has afterward to retract; but it is remarkable
for a man who has wielded such authority, who has
been accustomed to implicit deference for so many
years, and whose mental organization is so stern and
steadfast, how few prejudices he has.  Even these
will always yield to necessity, often to reason. If he
be sometimes dogmatical, the fault is less his than of
those who lead him into this natural error, when their
respect deters them from even reminding him that he
is fallible.
Self-reliance and singleness of purpose induce in him
vigor of thought and simplicity of diction. This sim



60           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
plicity, which is not confined to the language only, but
extends to the operation of the mind, is unique. You
meet nothing like it in any other man now prominently before the public. There is'a rigorous economy of
both thoughts and words. As a speaker and as a general, the duke equally disincumbers himself of unnecessary agents. He is as little fond of rhetorical flourishes or declamatory arts as he was of useless troops.,Every word does its work.  Simple, sound, sterling
Saxon he seems to choose by instinct, as hitting hardest with least show. Sometimes this self-reliance and
simplicity degenerate into an abruptness almost rude.
Then the simplicity would almost appear affected, but
that the duke is wholly incapable of that culpable
weakness. Those curt notes of his to people whom
he conceives to be in any way intrusive, or who say or
do what does not square with his rigid notions of etiquet, are often more amusing than dignified.  Still
they are strictly characteristic, and are only eccentric
evidences of that spirit which makes the duke in his
parliamentary career mark out a course for himself,
and, having once persuaded himself that it is right,
adhere to it with almost obstinate perseverance.
In attributing to the duke this simplicity of thought
and language, it is not intended to imply any narrowness or feebleness of intellect. A plainness and simplicity there is, in dress, in manners, in style of
thought, in expression, which might warrant a superficial observer, knowing nothing (if that be possible)
of the life and services of the man, in such an assumption. He would be apt to set the duke down as a
well meaning, prejudiced, honest, dogmatical, and very
impracticable old man, whom you would treat with
respect on account of his years, but whom you would
on no account allow to meddle in your affairs. But
all this is external only. The readers of the duke's
dispatches need not be told this. They exhibit proofs




THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.             61
of a highly toned and admirably regulated mind. High
honor, inflexibility, sagacity, instinctive knowledge of
human nature even at an early age, a capacity for the
grandest designs and most enlarged views, combined
with a readiness for the most minute of military affairs,-these are to be found in every page of those
extraordinary productions.
Similar qualities have developed themselves in the
duke's political career. He clings to the great principles of the constitution with a tenacity which has the
best effect on cotemporary statesmen. His sagacity
is the result of a most enlarged experience. With all
his apparent simplicity and rigidity, no man more thoroughly keeps pace with his age than the Duke of Wellington. He unites great shrewdness of perception
and readiness of observation with a disposition steadfastly to adhere to what is, rather than to yield to
what has not been tried. If he rarely rejects a theory, he as rarely adopts one, because it is new. He is
not fond of theories, except those which the past and
the experience of long practice have sanctioned. He
individualizes every thing as much as he can. He
prefers a small benefit that is specific and real to the
most magnificent promises. The chief characteristic
of his mind is common sense;. but it is of a very uncommon sort. It becomes a kind of practical philosophy. He requires so much per cent. deposit for every
share in the joint stock of modern wisdom. Perhaps
he sometimes pushes these peculiarities too far. The
prejudices of so powerful a man may sometimes become a great national obstruction. But, on the other
hand, it is well that there should be some men with
fixed ideas, to prevent the moral world flying off out
of its appointed orbit.
It is the moral influence of the Duke of Wellington,
and the position in the country which his great services have secured for him, that render him so influenF




62           ORATORS OF THE AGE,
tial a speaker in the House of Lords. It is felt that
his speeches are not merely made for a party purpose,
but that they embody the experience of a life. His
sincerity and the reliance you have on his sagacity,
compensate for the absence of those graces of style
and manner, and that choice of language, which are
expected from a public speaker. He usually sits in a
state of abstraction,-his arms folded, his head sunk on
his breast, his legs stretched out-: he seems to be
asleep. But, in a very few moments, he shows that
he has not been an inattentive observer of the debate.
He suddenly starts up, advances (sometimes with faltering steps, from his advanced age) to the table, and,
without preface or preliminary statement, dashes at
once at the real question in dispute. The keenness
with which he detects it, and the perseverance of his
pursuit, are remarkable proofs of the unimpaired vigor
of his understanding. Even with all the physical feebleness which might be expected at his years, he entirely fills the house while he speaks. His utterance
is very indistinct; yet by a strong effort of the will he
makes himself clearly heard and understood, even
though to do so he may have to repeat whole portions
of sentences. Not a point of the discourse escapes
him; and the most vigorous debater often finds the
weakness of his argument, however cleverly masked,
suddenly detected and exposed. Some of the short,
terse, pointed sentences, fall with a force on the
House the more remarkable for the contrast of the
matter with the manner. The speeches as a whole,
though always extremely brief in comparison with
those of more elaborate debaters, strike the hearer with
surprise for their sustained tone, the consistency of
their argument, and a kind of natural symmetry, the
necessary consequence of their being the sincere and
spontaneous development of a strong mind and a determined purpose.




THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.            63
Of the political career of the Duke of Wellington
it is not desirable to speak where praise or censure
would alike savor of presumption. He shares with
most of the great men of the day, and with Sir Robert
Peel in particular, the blame which it is usual to attach to inconsistency. Posterity will decide on the
degree of turpitude attributable to the statesmen of
this age, for their manner of guiding the country
peaceably through a revolution in opinion and legislation, to attain which would have cost other nations all
the frightful penalties of civil strife. Whatever may
be the ultimate decision, it will no doubt be borne in
mind that the Duke of Wellington, from the very
commencement of his active political career, stood
above the temptations of ordinary ambition, and is,
therefore, exempt from the more ordinary and obvious
grounds of reproach.




THE RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY.
THE popular voice places Mr. Macaulay in the very
first rank of cotemporary speakers. Those who are
prepared to admit a distinction between the most distinguished and successful of untrained speakers and
the confessed orators, include him, without hesitation,
in the latter class. If they form their judgment merely
firom reading his speeches as reported in the papers,
certainly they have ample ground for presuming that
he must be a man of no ordinary eloquence; for he
scarcely ever rises but to pour a flood of light upon the
subject under discussion, which he handles with a masterly skill that brings out all the available points, and
sets them off with such a grace of illustration, such a
depth and readiness of historical knowledge, as are
equaled by no other living orator. His speeches, indeed, looked at apart from all immediate political considerations, are admirable compositions, which may be
read and read again with pleasure and profit, long after
the party feelings of the moment have subsided; and
in this point of view they seem to be regarded by the
general public. An equal interest and admiration are
felt by that comparatively small and exclusive section
who form the audience in the House of Commons.
When it gets whispered about that Mr. Macaulay is
likely to speak on a particular question, the intelligence acts like a talisman on the members. Those
who may not take sufficient interest in the current




THE RIGHT HION. T. B. MACAULAY.        65
business to be present in the House, may be seen
hovering in its precincts, in the lobbies, in the library, or at Bellamy's, lest they should be out of the
way at the right moment, and so lose a great intellectual treat: and it is no sooner known that the cause
of all this interest has actually begun to speak, than
the House becomes, as if by magic, as much crowded
as when the leader for the time being is on his legs.
So general an interest in one who has not rendered
himself important or conspicuous by any of the more
ordinary or vulgar means of obtaining political distinction, or of exciting the popular mind, is of itself
proof enough that he must possess very extraordinary
claims. In this interest and admiration we most cordially concur. We are not going to question the accuracy of that verdict of the public which places Mr.
Macaulay among the very first orators of the day,though, perhaps, we may be able to suggest grounds
for a more discriminating criticism and judgment than
he is generally subjected to; but, before proceeding
to do so, it may be desirable to notice some peculiarities in Mr. Macaulay's political position, and of the
means by which he has arrived at it, which illustrate
in a very remarkable manner the working of the constitution, and exemplify the real freedom of our institutions.
The theory of the representative system in this
country assumes that members of the House of Commons are elected by the free choice of the people,
because of their peculiar fitness for the business of
legislation. As a large and important portion of those
who form  the government are chosen  from  the
representative body, the same theory, if followed
out, would further assume that they were so selected because they were more distinguished than
their compeers for the possession of those qualities
of mind, and that general knowledge of the conE




66            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
dition of the country, which would make them good
administrative officers. This is the theory; but the
practice is far different. It seems almost absurd to
recapitulate what every politician assumes as the basis
of his calculations, and every newspaper and annual
register records. Yet this familiarity with the facts
blinds us to their importance; and we are not a little
startled when told that under our representative system, which we are so ready to hold up to the world as
faultless, intelligence, knowledge of the affairs of the
country, and general fitness for the business of the
government, are the very last things thought of in a
candidate for the suffrages of the people.
Without pushing this view to the extreme conclusions which it will naturally bear, it may be observed,
that in practice the rank or property, or local influence, of a candidate, obtains more influence than is
exactly consistent with the perfection of the abstract
theory of representation. County members are more
often returned by this kind of influence than any other.
The son of the great local peer, or the head of the
preponderating family in the county, is naturally looked to when a vacancy occurs; and he would be regarded as next door to a madman, who proposed a
candidate because he believed his intelligence, his experience, his talents in the House of Commons, quali
fled him for the post of member, unsupported by any
particular local influence. In the boroughs, rules not
very dissimilar prevail. In many cases, notwithstanding the Reform-bill, the nomination system still exists;
and here, as under the old system, the young man of
talent who has his political fortune to carve out, may
find the door open which is to lead him into parliament.
Where the boroughs are in this respect ", open," the
influence of property, direct or indirect, is very nearly
as strong as in the counties. The leading banker, or
brewer, or manufacturer here, stands in a position not




THE RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY.         67
very dissimilar to that of the man of family in the more
extended electoral sphere. He is returned, either on
account of his personal and local influence, or because
he is the representative of some ", interest;" but general legislatorial qualifications are here, as elsewhere,
almost the last things required from him. It is true
that the borough representation opens the door of
parliament to commercial men of high standing, who
come forward on their general reputation, and not on
any local influence; and that it also ushers into parliament that very important body, the lawyers: but
these are only a minority of the whole.
The selections made by the aristocratic or governing body, whether Whig or Tory, of members to recruit from time to time the ranks of the administration, would appear to be influenced by principles or
habits not wholly different from those which guide the
constituencies. The man of talent, but without an
alliance with nobility, or ostensible wealth, has scarcely
a fair chance against rivals who may combine those
advantages with even far inferior abilities. Whether
this be a good or a bad system is not in question,
though that it should so universally prevail in the face
of a watchful public is prima facie evidence in its
favor. It does exist, however. A Sir Robert Peel or
a Lord John Russell, forming a government, does not
first look out for friendless and landless men, even
though their lack of wealth might only obscure the
genius of a Canning. No, they rather are disposed
to patronize the Charles Woods or the Sidney Herberts, whose merits have the additional weight of
their near relationship to two several earldoms. The
heads of the aristocratic parties are accustomed to
look to their own ranks for their pupils in the science
of government and their successors as the inheritors
of power, unless in those offices, limited in number,
which are filled by practicing barristers, whose pro



68            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
fessional position and success in the House have long
since, in the eyes of the initiated, designated their
future position as solicitor or attorney-general. For
all these reasons, it is seldom indeed that one sees in
the higher offices of government men who have not
some relationship with the leading nobility, some
hereditary political claim, or who are not great city
or money lords, or barristers with an acknowledged
standing and reputation, and who have already exhibited proofs of parliamentary ability.
Mr. Macaulay is an exception to all these rules. Although he is a barrister, he does not practice as one,
-at least, his parliamentary standing in no way depends on his profession. Although indebted to the
nomination system for his first admission to parliament,
having first sat for the Marquis of Lansdowne's borough of Calne before the Reform-bill, yet he is in no
way indebted to any Whig family connection for the
start this gave him at the very outset of the race. Still
less is he, or has he ever been, in that state of political
servitude which might otherwise account for his rapid
advance to the highest offices in the gift of an exclusive aristocratic party.  He has boldly asserted the
most ultra-liberal, almost democratic opinions, always
tempered by the refinement of a highly cultivated and
well constituted mind, but still independent and uncompromising. It is to his parliamentary talents that he
is almost exclusively indebted for his advancement,
and in this respect he stands almost alone among his
cotemporaries.  It is because he is a distinguished
orator —an orator developing, perhaps, into a statesman-that he has attained the rank of privy-counselor
and cabinet minister. To other great men of the day
-to such men as Lord Stanley, Lord Lyndhurst,
Lord Brougham, or Sir Robert Peel, the ability to
address assemblies of their fellow-men with skill and
effect has been a powerful agent of their political suc



THE RIGHT lION. T. B. MACAULAY.       69
cess; but in theircases it has been auxiliary only, not,
as in the instance of Mr. Macaulay, the sole means of
coping with established reputations. They each and
all had either birth, social position, or the advantage
derived from professional triumphs at the bar, as an
introduction to the notice of those who from time to
time have been the dispensers of honor and the nominators to office.
The high political rank held by Mr. Macaulay, then,
-secured as it has been by no subservience to the
aristocracy on the one hand, nor any attempts to build
power on democratic influence on the other-is a singular instance of the elasticity of our institutions, and of
the opportunity afforded in the practical working of
the constitution to men of talent and conduct, of raising themselves to the highest positions in the state.
Looked at with reference to the relative constitution
of society in England and France, the elevation of Mr.
Macaulay, by means so legitimate, is to be regarded as
an infinitely greater triumph of mind over aristocratic
exclusiveness than the prime-ministership of M. Thiers
or of M. Guizot, however dazzling or flattering to literary pride, achieved as each was, in a greater or less
degree, amid the disorganization of society following
a revolution. Mr. Macaulay's position, too, is of importance, not merely as regards the past, but also with
a view to the future. Events seem pointing to a period when the aristocratic influence will be exercised
less directly and generally over the representative system and in the legislature. If it is ever destined to be
superseded by the commercial, or even the popular influence, how desirable it is that constituencies so tending should choose for their representatives not the
mere pledged advocates of rival, interests," or those
coarser demagogues who live by pampering the
worst appetites of the partially instructed, but men
of well trained minds, initiated in the business of gov



70            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
ernment, and far surpassing their accidental competitors in those external arts and graces of the political
adventurer, for which, strange to say, the least educated audiences display the keenest relish, while, by
so doing, they mark their own just appreciation. The
success achieved by Mr. Macaulay —more remarkable
and significant that it was in opposition to the prejudices and remonstrances of some of the older members
of the Whig party-opens the door to a new and increasing class of public men, who would devote themselves to politics as the business of their lives, as others
give themselves up to science or to the regular professions; who from the very nature and origin of their
influence would find favor with popular constituencies,
as anxious as the aristocrats were under the old system
to secure talented and well trained expositors of their
wishes and opinions, so that they might become a real
and active power in the state, and not merely puppets
in the hands of intriguing and ambitious statesmen.
It is a significant fact, as connected with this theory,
that Mr. Macaulay should be the representative of the
second metropolitan constituency in the empire.
The character of Mr. Macaulay's mind, as developed
in his various speeches and acknowledged writings,
eminently qualified him for the part he has already
taken in the political history of his time, and that
which he seems destined still to act. It is obvious that
a man whom, speaking relatively, one may, without
offense, call an adventurer-a title which, it will be
seen, is not in his case meant as a reproach, but rather
as by comparison an honor-it is obvious that such a
man must have some very peculiar qualities of mind,
so to have overcome or disarmed the most jealous aristocratic prejudices, at the same time that he has made
his country, and at least the literary world in general,
ring with his name; while his conduct as a politician
has by no means been characterized by that caution




THE RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY.    71
and dissimulation which sometimes carry a man safely
through the difficulties of political warfare, till the
hour has come when he conceives he may safely declare his real sentiments, and stand forth to the world
the true man he is. Mr. Macaulay has, almost from
the outset of his public life, boldly avowed the most
extreme opinions ever countenanced, even in the most
desperate manceuvers of faction, by the heads of his
party. By the side of landholders and men whose
standing depends on elective influence, he has declared
himself the open advocate of the ballot. He was always
ahead of his party on the Corn-laws; and on all the
other great popular questions with which, from time
to time, they have tampered. Yet be it ever remembered, as his political position was not created by mob
influence, but rather dependent on the favor of those
who were socially, though not intellectually, his superiors, he risked every thing by this frankness.  He
might have played a safer, but not so bold or glorious
a game, if he were not far above the political meanness of disguising his opinions.
There is a fine spirit of philosophical statesmanship
animating all the political thinking of Mr. Macaulay,
which guides him safely in those dangerous tracks to
which he is led by his intellectual propensities. His
mind has been trained in the old forms, and in its full
strength it does not repudiate them. In this respect
he is more to be relied on as a politician by the cautious, than even the most obstinate adherent of the
status quo; who, in most cases, gives a strength to the
opinions he affects to shun, and stings to fresh energy
opponents he pretends to despise. Mr. Macaulay neither shuns nor despises. He is not to be deterred by
warnings derived from the past, or predictions of evil
in the future. He grapples with every proposition
that comes in his way, meeting it fairly on its own
ground. No fear of explosion withholds him from ap



72           ORtATOR6 OF TIFF AGE.
plying his intellectual test to the new element, or from
appropriating it to the purposes of political science, if
its properties or its facility of combination make it a
desirable ally. A new opinion, or a new movement
originating in opinion, is either discarded, crushed,
disposed of at once, or it is now and forever incorporated in the system he has raised for himself, and
which he is always adding to, cementing, strengthening,
never weakening or undermining. He looks at the
present and the future with the light of the past.
However prospective his purposes may be, his mind
is retrospective in its organization, and in the intellectual aliment on which it has fed with the most appropriating avidity. However new may be his propositions
or his views, they are never crude. If he sometimes
appears to question, and, by questioning, to undermine
and destroy, the most cherished and universally
admitted principles, the chances are that he does
it only to divorce them from fallacies which tend to
weaken their efficacy. He separates the sound from
the unsound, in order to unite it again to fresh and
undecayed materials. He is a great reconciler of the
new with the old. It is his delight to give new interpretations to old laws and forms of thought, and, by
so doing, to restore their original integrity. With all
his brilliancy, although it is one of his distinguishing
traits to touch the most grave and important topics in
that light and graceful spirit which has made him the
must popular essayist of his time; notwithstanding that
in his writings, and even in his speeches on congenial
themes, he seems led captive by his imagination to an
extent that might make the common dull herd fear to
yield themselves to his guidance; there is not among
the politicians of the day a more thoroughly practical
man than Mr. Macaulay. Although he may adorn a
subject with the lights afforded by his rare genius, he
never trifles with it. The graceful flowers have strong




THE RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY.          73
props and stems beneath, to bear them up against rough
weather. His historical research renders him a living
link with the old and uncorrupted constitution of the
country. He can bring, most unexpectedly, old sanctions to the newest ideas. Thus to ally the present with
the past is the valuable instinct of his mind. It operates insensibly as a great guaranty with others not
so quick and capable. It is also a living and active
principle, the operation of which may be most beneficial in cotemporary politics. By it antiquity conquers
and absorbs novelty, which again reanimates the old.
If the spirit of inquiry, or of innovation, or of change, or
of indomitable English common sense, suddenly breaks
away the legislative barriers behind which an established system of political things has intrenched itself, it
is a great source of confidence to those alarmed at defeat, as well as those perhaps equally alarmed at success, to know that the invading is in reality older than
the invaded; that what is supposed to be a revolution is, in truth, a restoration of something better than
that which was swept away. Mr. Macaulay looks at
political questions in this reconstructive spirit, and
hence the favor with which he is regarded by his aristocratic allies.  He has all the holiness, vigor, and
originality which democratic opinions inspire, without
that leveling spirit which makes them odious and
dangerous.
It is this philosophic and statesmanlike tone which
gives the speeches of Mr. Macaulay their real interest
and value. The more grave and important considerations which it educes from the political events of the
hour are admirably intermingled and interwoven with
them, so as to do away altogether with the appearance
of pedantry and dry historical disquisition on the one
hand, or of vague and useless political theory on the
other. There is no speaker now before the public who
so readily and usefully, and with so little appearance




74            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
of effort, infuses the results of very extensive reading
and very deep research into the common, every-day
business of Parliament. But his learning never tyrannizes over his common sense. If he has a parallel
ready for almost every great character or great event,
or an instance, or a dictum, from some acknowledged
authority, his own reason does not, therefore, bow
with implicit deference, making the one case a rule
for all time. His speeches on the Reform-bill, more
especially that on the third reading, were remarkable
evidences of the skill and readiness with which he
could bring historical instances to bear upon immediate political events, without being at all embarrassed
by the precedents. His mind appears so admirably
organized, his stores of memory so well filled and so
instantaneously at hand, that the right idea or the most
happy illustration seems to spring up at exactly the
right moment; and the train of thinking thus aroused
is dismissed again with equal ease, leaving him at liberty to pursue the general tenor of his argument.
There is very great symmetry in his speeches. The
subject is admirably handled for the purpose of instructing, delighting, or arousing; and learning, illustration, invective, or declamation, are used with such
a happy art, and with so equally happy an abstinence,
that, when the speech is concluded, you are left under
the impression that every thing material to a just judgment has been said, and the whole theme exhausted.
His speeches read like essays, as his essays read like
speeches. It is impossible to doubt that they are prepared with the utmost care, and committed to memory before delivery. They bear internal evidences of
this, and the mode of delivery confirms the suspicion.
The speeches made by Mr. Macaulay on the spur
of the moment, when the subject has suddenly arisen,
and preparation is impossible, confirm, by contrast, the
belief that his great displays are carefully conned be



THE RIGHT IION. T. B. MACAULAY.         75
forehand. There is almost a total absence of that historical allusion, that happy illustration, those antithetical sentences and paradoxical arguments, which characterize his formal orations. They are generally, when
thus the spontaneous product of the moment, most able
and vigorous arguments on the subject under discussion, which is, in most cases, placed in an entirely new
light. After he has spoken on such occasions as these,
the debate usually takes a new turn. Members on
both sides of the House, and of all ranks, are to be
found shaping their remarks, either in confirmation, or
refutation of what Mr. Macaulay has said; so influential is his bold, vigorous, uncompromising mode of
handling a question; so acute his analysis; so firm his
grasp. So that we must not merely look at Mr. Macaulay, in the common point of view, as a, brilliant"
speaker and accomplished orator, delivering essays on
a given subject, adorned by all the graces of style, and
in which the imagination preponderates over all else;
we must also regard him as a practical politician, ready
at every emergency, and exercising by the superiority
of his mind an ascendency over the councils of the nation. He mingles in a remarkable manner the persuasiveness of the advocate with the impartiality of the
judge. If a judge were to use eloquence to insinuate
on the minds of his hearers the justice of his decision,
he might treat his subject in much the same style as
that adopted by Mr.' Macaulay. His art in concealing
the machinery with which he works on his hearers is
perfect. There is no appearance of a plan, yet a careful study of his speeches will show that they are constructed, and the subjects and trains of thought disposed, with the utmost skill. There is no apparent
straining after graces of style or peculiarities of diction,
as in the case of Mr. Sheil. You are thrown off your
guard by the simplicity of the language, and the absence of all ambitious effort. He seems rather to trust




76            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
to the clearness of his case, and the impetuosity and
perseverance of his advocacy. Yet no opportunity for
working up a ",point" is neglected. Exquisite passages are here and there scattered through a speech,
yet they seem to fall naturally into the argument, although really the result of the most careful preparation. His perorations, too, are remarkable, in general,
for their declamatory energy, their sustained eloquence,
and the manner in which they stamp, as it were, the
argument or theme of the whole speech on the mind
of the audience at parting. Grace of diction is throughout made secondary to vigor of thought. But Mr. Macaulay argues much in metaphor, though never for the
metaphor's sake. He will put the whole force of a
position into an apt and simple illustration with a suddenness quite startling. These, and an occasional antithesis of the simplest kind, are almost his only departures from the style of ordinary level speaking. His
language, at the same time, is always remarkably pure;
and for elegance it is unsurpassed. There are, however, faults in his speaking.  For instance, he will
sometimes spoil the effect of an eloquent passage by a
sudden antithetical allusion, involving some vulgar idea,
which catches him because of the opportunity it affords
for alliteration or contrast, and which he thinks humorous. This is in bad taste, and is so far an evidence of
his want of a keen sense of wit and humor. Yet it is
seldom that there is even this slight and trivial drawback to the symmetry of his speeches.
Admirable as Mr. Macaulay's speeches are on paper, his delivery of them altogether belies that reputation which they are calculated to obtain for him. It
is, perhaps, heightened expectation which causes the
deep disappointment one feels on hearing him the first
time; or it may be that his defects of manner and style
would not be observed were the matter he utters of
an inferior order. Whatever the cause, the spell is




THE RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY.         r77
in a great measure broken.  Nature has not gifted
him, either in voice or in person, with those attributes
of the orator which help to fascinate and kindle a popular assembly. With such a voice and aspect as Lord
Denman, how infinitely greater would be the effect on
his audience of his undoubted intellectual power! Mr.
Macaulay, in hispersonal appearance, and in the material or physical part of his oratory, contradicts altother the ideal portrait one has formed on reading his
speeches. Every man would, of course, have his own
especial hallucination; but the chances are ten to one
that the majority would have associated with his subject every physical attribute of the intellectual-investing him in imagination with a noble and dignified presence, and especially with a voice fit to give utterance
to those fine passages of declamation with which his
speeches abound. The contrast of the reality is, in
many respects, striking.  Nature has grudged Mr.
Macaulay height and fine proportion, and his voice is
one of the most monotonous and least agreeable of
those which usually belong to our countrymen north
of the Tweed-a voice well adapted to give utterance
with precision to the conclusions of the intellect, but
in no way naturally formed to express feeling or passion. Mr. Macaulay is short in stature, round, and with
a growing tendency to aldermanic disproportions. His
head has the same rotundity as his body, and seems
stuck on it as firmly as a pin-head. This is nearly the
sum of his personal defects; all else, except the voice,
is certainly in his favor. His face seems literally instinct with expression: the eye, above all, full of deep
thought and meaning. As he walks, or rather straggles, along the street, he seems as if in a state of total
abstraction, unmindful of all that is going on around
him, and solely occupied with his own working mind.
You can not help thinking that literature with him is
not a mere profession or pursuit, but that it has almost




78            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
grown a part of himself, as though historical problems
or analytical criticism were a part of his daily and regular intellectual food.
In the House of Commons, the same abstraction
is still his chief characteristic. He enters the House
with a certain pole-star to guide him-his seat; how
he reaches it seems as if it were a process unknown
to him. Seated, he folds his arms and sits in silence,
seldom speaking to his colleagues, or appearing to notice what is going forward. If he has prepared himself for a speech, it will be remarked that he comes
down much earlier than usual, being very much addicted to speaking before the dinner-hour, when, of course,
his memory would be more likely to serve him than at
a later hour in the night, after having endured for
hours the hot atmosphere of the House, and the disturbing influences of an animated debate. It is observable,
too, that, on such occasions, a greater number of members than usual may be seen loitering about the House.
An opening is made in the discussion, and he rises, or
rather darts up from his seat, plunging at once into the
very heart of his subject, without exordium or apologetic preface. In fact, you have for a few seconds
heard a voice, pitched in alto, monotonous, and rather
shrill, pouring forth words with inconceivable velocity ere you have become aware that a new speaker,
and one of no common order, has broken in upon the
debate. A few seconds more, and cheers, perhaps
from all parts of the House, rouse you completely from
your apathy, compelling you to follow that extremely
voluble and not enticing voice in its rapid course through
the subject on which the speaker is entering with a
resolute determination, as it seems, never to pause.
You think of an express train which does not stop even
at the chief stations. On, onhe speeds, in full reliance
on his own momentum, never stopping for words, never
stopping for thoughts, never. halting for an instant, even




THE RIGHT HON. T. B. MACAULAY.        79
to take breath, his intellect gathering new vigor as it
proceeds, hauling the subject after him, and all its possible attributes and illustrations, with the strength of a
giant, leaving a line of light on the pathway his mind
has trod, till, unexhausted, and apparently inexhaustible, he brings this remarkable effort to a close by a
peroration so highly sustained in its declamatory power, so abounding in illustration, so admirably framed to
crown and clench the whole oration, that surprise, if
it has even begun to wear off, kindles anew, and the
hearer is left utterly prostrate and powerless by the
whirlwind of ideas and emotions that has swept over
him.
Yet, although you have been astonished, stimulated
to intellectual exertion, thoroughly roused, and possibly
even convinced, no impression whatever has been made
by the orator upon your feelings; nor has he created
any confidence in himself apart from the argument ho
has used. And yet, strange to say, perhaps it is because his oration has been too faultless. He exhibits
none of the common weakness of even the greatest
speakers. He never entices you, as it were, to help
him, by the confession of any difficulty. The intellectual preponderates too much.  More heart and
less mind would serve his turn better. How different is Lord John Russell! Though with a responsibility so much greater, how often he appears to be
in want of a thought, a word, or an illustration! He,
as it were, lets you into the secret of his difficulties, and so a sort of friendship grows up. You see
him making up for his part; he does not keep you before the curtain, and then try to dazzle you with his
spangles and fine feathers; —so you acquire confidence
in him. Not so Mr. Macaulay. He astonishes you,
quells your faculties; but, at the same time, he keeps
you at a distance. Always powerful and influential as
he must be in the councils of his party, he would never




80           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
have a following in the country. He is too didactic.
He never thoroughly warms up his audience. It is
not his defective voice, for Mr. Sheil is as bad, if not
worse off in this respect; yet what a flame he can
kindle! The cause lies in his inveterate habit of
preparing his speeches, even to the very words and
phrases, and committing them to memory long before the hour of delivery. Partial preparation is allowable in the greatest orators.  Exordiums, and
perorations, and the general sketch of the speech,
may well be arranged and shaped beforehand; but
et some scope be left for the impulse of the moment. The greatest thoughts are often those struck
out by the mind when at heat: in debate they are
caught up by minds in a congenial state. Even a lower order of excellence will at such times produce a
greater effect.  It is wonderful, however, that Mr.
Macaulay contrives so well to adapt these cool productions of the closet to temperaments excited by party.
If a counterfeit could ever stand competition with the
reality, these mock-heroics of Mr. Macaulay would not
have the worse chance. When he is called up suddenly, under circumstances forbidding all preparation,
his speeches produce a much greater immediate effect.
As compositions they may be inferior, but for practical
purposes they are much better. On such occasions he
has sometimes reached the height of real eloquencenot the eloquence of words and brilliant images, but
that fervor and inspiring sincerity which comes direct
from the heart, and finds at once a kindred response.




LORD STANLEY.
AMONG cotemporary orators, Lord Stanley is one of
the most distinguished. During the many years when
he took, a leading part in the debates in the House of
Commons, he almost always held a very high:place
among the most eloquent and effective speakers in that
assembly; sometimes he raised himself to the very first
rank. No one has been so bold as to question his intellectual power; few have dared to match their
strength with his. He has, in fact, been almost universally acknowledged to be, as a parliamentary debater, a successful competitor with Sir Robert Peel,
Lord John Russell, or Lord Palmerston. Whatever
exasperated enemies or cautious friends may have said
as to the tendency of his oratorical displays; however
they may have been deprecated from time to time as
too stimulative of party spirit and too provocative of
party animosity, no one has withheld from them the
tribute of admiration on intellectual grounds.  Lord
Stanley was one of the chosen spirits who really led
and ruled the House of Commons.
While he continued there, it might have been somewhat difficult to take an impartial view of his claims.
He threw himself with such a determined, at times
with such a reckless spirit, into all attacks; he so thoroughly and desperately identified himself with his party
in all; defenses, that it was all but impossible to exclude prejudice from a judgment of his merits as a
statesman; so strong was the partiality either for or
against him. For during many years, indeed up to
F




82           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
within a very short time before his retirement firom the
lower house, Lord Stanley knew no medium in politics. He threw himself, heart and soul, into whatever
he undertook. It was a personal matter with him.
He seemed really to believe in that political iniquity
of his antagonists which others on his side appeared
only to assume for the sake of oratorical invective.
He lived in a perfect turmoil of contest. He had certain regular opponents with whom it was always understood the battle was to be fought to the death.
Whether the fault was theirs or his is not the question: the fact was so. Beside these, he had always a
small array of stragglers, with whom, from time to
time, he had to maintain a kind of guerilla warfare-a
species of strife which is proportionately as harassing
and perilous in debate as it is in the terrible reality of
war. It leaves a man no rest. He must be forever
prepared. He must, as it were, sleep in his armor
and with his sword unsheathed.- No allowance is made
for the weaknesses and infirmities of humanity. If,
by chance, a man so situated should be caught tripping,
he is fallen upon at once. If the fatigues of laborious
official duties shall have impaired his powers; if some
subordinate shall have misinformed him as to facts, or
committed him as to opinions or declarations, no allowance whatever is made for such a man. He has
made too many enemies. He has conquered, perhaps,
in too many contests. The vanquished thirst for revenge. No political courtesies are in reserve for him.
He has fought while alive, and fighting he must die.
And in like manner has Lord Stanley been judged by
too many of his cotemporaries; by too many of those
who envied his splendid talents; as well as by those
who, naturally enough, smarted under the inflictions
of his sarcastic spirit. He has made more political
enemies, and possibly more personal ones, with less
real cause, than any other of his cotemporaries.




LORD STANLEY.                83
Everyday events prove this. If we are to judge from
the noble lord's extreme and marked quiescence during
the latter part of his sojourn in the House of Commons-a political indifference so unwonted as to have
given rise to the most singular runmors; for instance,
that he was dissatisfied at playing so subordinate a part
to Sir Robert Peel, and that his removal to the House
of Lords was the price of his continued acknowledgment of that right honorable baronet's superiorityLord Stanley wished for something like repose after
the excitement of the contests of the last few years.
It might seem that, having been mainly instrumental
in winning the battle which placed the Conservative
ministry in office, his proud spirit was so far satisfied,
and that he desired now to sign a treaty of peace with
his old antagonists. But the deep and bitter enmities
which his powerful and unsparing eloquence had aroused were not to be so allayed. Those who had suffered
by his former activity would not now let him rest.
They sought to avenge themselves for past indignities
and defeats, by assailing his character as minister.
Never was there yet a member of government, and
especially one holding the comparatively remote and
retired office of colonial secretary, who was assailed so
mercilessly and so indefatigably, or so decidedly and
palpably on grounds of a personal nature. He suffered
now the reaction of his former triumphs.
All these things make it difficult to deal with Lord
Stanley's character as a statesman and an orator. If
a man who has played so distinguished a part has made
many enemies, he must also have many enthusiastic
admirers. Political gratitude may as much exaggerate
his merits and services, as political hatred may depreciate them. In either case the parties, whether enemies or friends, deal with the man as he was. They
look back to the stormy times when the character
which they hate or admire was formed and displayed;




84           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
and they conceive that character to have remained the
same. They refuse to acknowledge, or to see that
time and the abatement of many causes of irritation
may have materially altered the tendencies of one who
early in life exhibited intellectual propensities of a very
different kind. That Lord Stanley has been removed
from the arena in which his combative habits were so
fully developed into a sphere where they are comparatively useless; and that since he has been in his new
position he has been more quiescent than even he -was
during the last year or two of his continuing in the
House of Commons, will, however, materially lessen
the difficulty, and enable us to look at his character
with more impartiality and more fearlessness of arousing hostile opinions on either side, than if we had applied ourselves to the task some six or eight years ago,
when his gladiatorial powers were in full play.
It is a bad thing for a young nobleman, and proportionately it is bad for his country, when he leaps suddenly.from a minority and private life into the full
exercise of legislative functions as a member of the
House of Peers. On the other hand, it is advantageous that he should previously undergo a training in the
House of Commons. One of the most valuable practical safeguards of the constitution is that provision of
the law. which makes the sons of peers eligible to election as members of the popular representative body,
and that custom of the country which usually gives
persons so situated a preference.  They are thus
brought early into contact with popular opinions; and
the natural pride of birth is held in check by the counteracting pride of talent, and of powerderived from the
people. As a political school, the House of Commons
thus forms an admirable preparation for the House of
Lords. It, familiarizes the young nobleman with the
wants, feelings, and opinions of classes with whom he
might otherwise never come in contact; and it enables




LORD STANLEY.                 85
him at a future period, when raised to the peerage and
released from the immediate control of popular opinion,
to take those wants and feelings into account in the
responsible task of legislation.
Whatever may be the political opinions that have
been imbibed by young noblemen, bred, perhaps, amid
traditions of feudal grandeur, contact with the current
sentiments of men springing from the mercantile
classes, or representing abstract opinions founded on
ideas of popular omnipotence, tends to liberalize them
as citizens, and lessens the probability of their being
placed in collision with their fellow-subjects, should
questions of mutual right ever arise between the privileged class and the people. As an intellectual discipline,
too, passing a few sessions in the House of Commons
serves the young peer. The discipline preserved in
that assembly has a tendency to bring down arrogance;
while the constant and temperate discussion of all subjects most interesting to a citizen removes the inexperience by which it is engendered. This training serves
him especially when he first enters the House of Lords.
From  the aristocratic character of that assembly, and
the intellect of which it boasts in individual members,
a young man making his first appearance there might
naturally feel overpowered by the greatness of his audience. A modest nature would be abashed, an arrogant
one hopelessly put down-discouraged by an austere silence. Lord Byron felt the extreme difficulty of rising
to address such an assembly. A few years' training
in the House of Commons prepares a man for this
ordeal. It is true, that no audience can, as a whole,
be more severe than that of the House of Commons.
But then the young orator, especially if'he be a peer,
is cheered by the reflection, that singly they are not so
much to be feared, and, above all, that they are ephemeral. Victory is more, and defeat less, than in the
Upper House. He comes up to the House of Lords




86           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
knowing what his powers are; what he can do, and
what- he can not. He does not attempt too much; and
in what he does attempt, from long practice having
given him confidence, he usually succeeds.
Lord Stanley has profited more than most men by
this training. Had he mounted at once to the House
of Peers, it is more than probable that he would not
have acquired the high reputation as an orator which
he now enjoys. Of course he would have distinguished
himself: such talents as his are not made to be hidden,
-they would have forced themselves on public notice
in some way or other. But their development would
probably have been very different. That energy of
character, which, when roused by party conflict with
obnoxious individuals, or by antagonism with opinions
and principles which he had learned to hold in abhorrence, made him the most powerful debater in the
House of Commons, arming his intellect with keen
and ready argument, and his tongue with invective or
sarcasm, would, in all probability, if he had not been
placed in the circumstances which called it forth, have
expended itself with equal vigor in other channels.
We should have found him as fixed and determined
of purpose in his devotion to some scheme of opinions,
perhaps to some party, as he was in grappling with
the Irish members in the House of Commons. His
oratorical efforts would have been of a more purely
intellectual character, less mixed up with personal
feeling, which, as it is, has given them their distinguishing features. But what they would thus have
gained in tone, they would probably have lost in vigor.
He might have acquired a reputation for philosophical
views as a statesman-these, indeed, might always be
detected even in his most fiery speeches; and he
might have attained to a considerable purity and elegance of style as an orator. But he would not have
stood out among cotemporaries so marked a man as




LORD STANLEY.                87
he now is. His name would not have been identified
with the sterner features and attributes of party contest. We should not have witnessed that peculiar
impatience and restlessness of disposition, in which he
is surpassed by but one living orator; nor that indomitable spirit which will not brook defeat, nor be satisfied with less than the utter prostration of the foe, in
which he is again to be likened only to the noble and
learned ex-chancellor. He would, in all human probability, never have met an antagonist so personally powerful, and at the same time so out of the pale of ordinary parliamentary courtesy, as O'Connell; nor
would he, therefore, have been almost the only man
to have realized in his person the old practice of party
contests, where the strife was between man and man,
not between principle and principle, or measure and
measure.
But, on the other hand, if Lord Stanley would thus
have avoided much of that odium which party hatred,
justified, it must be admitted, by circumstances to a
certain extent, has attempted, and still attempts, to
affix to his name, he would have entered on the duties
of legislation with powers far less developed, with experience much more circumscribed, capabilities of usefulness much more confined, than those which, after
his stormy career in the Lower House, he now possesses. As it is, he comes to the House of Peers with
a reputation which.enables him, without offense to the
pride of any of his colleagues, to assume the position
of a i, leader;" with a temperament, all the elasticity
of which remains unimpaired, while its irritable tendencies are evidently softened down and ameliorated;
with faculties strengthened by use, and a mind stored
with every sort of experience in public affairs that can
render a man useful in their administration. The
longer he continues in the House of Peers, the longer
will he be removed from those irritating causes which




88           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
were the only drawbacks on his complete success in
the House of Commons, and the more will he be disposed to view questions-whether of a political or an
administrative character-in that statesmanlike spirit
which contemplates the necessity of small compromises in order to ward off great contests. It is almost
impossible to account for the change that has already
taken place in him, except by attributing it to ill health,
or to a resolute determination of self-restraint, now
that the circumstances surrounding him are so different
from what they were when he was in the opposition
in the House of Commons. A change there is, unquestionably. When he was in office you could no
longer recognize in the quiet, unobtrusive minister
who sat under the wing of the Duke of Wellington in
the House of Lords, who spoke only when called
upon, and then only in the routine discharge of official
duty, the fierce, fiery leader who had been named
the Hotspur of the Conservative forces; whose parliamentary life had been one long series of party hostilities; who was so prone to attack, that his opponents were obliged in self-defense to be forever on their
guard; and who was so ready at retort, that one almost suspected that the sarcasm used in reply must
have been prepared for an attack. A singular and
striking instance of this change soon occurred. Lord
Brougham, by the unrestrained use of his sarcastic
powers indiscriminately among friends or foes, had,
long before the advent of Lord Stanley to the House
of Lords, acquired such a mastery over that assembly,
that no man seemed to have the courage to answer
him. He lorded it over all, and dealt out his reproofs
or his sarcastic irony with a perseverance, a reckless
boldness, a fearlessness of retort, that gave him a preeminence apparently most grateful to the combative
propensities of his nature. When it became known
that Lord Stanley was to be raised to the House of Peers,




LORD STANLEY.                89
every one pointed him out as the natural antagonist of
Lord Brougham. His well known character, his fearlessness, and extreme aptness and readiness in retort,
proclaimed him, now that Lord Lyndhurst had-grown
too indolent, or too friendly with the common enemy,
the most fit person to encounter the giant, and possibly
to lay him in the dust.
Nor was Lord Brougham long in provoking a contest. Scarcely had Lord Stanley appeared in the
House after having been confined at home by illness,
than his noble antagonist rushed to the attack. The
exact particulars are unimportant. He offered some
sneering and sarcastic remark on Lord Stanley's anxiety to make a second speech on a subject on which
he had once delivered his opinion as colonial secretary.
The retort was obvious; it was even expected by the
House; and had Lord Stanley been the man he was
but a few months before, he would have given his assailant a castigation such as perhaps he never received
before, for no man but Lord Stanley possessed the
same powers. But, instead of so doing, he quietly
and calmly submitted to the attack, to what was so
personal-as almost to amount to an insult, and thus let
Lord Brougham retire from the contest, if contest it
could be called, with the eclat of having conquered
so doughty a conqueror, and nerved to future efforts
of the same amiable character.
Far different was the Lord Stanley of five or ten
years ago. Then, no man in the House of Commons,
however distinguished by power of oratory, or however influential with the country, would have thought
of making an attack on Lord Stanley without the certain expectation of a retort in kind, possibly carrying
sarcasm or ridicule almost beyond the limits of courtesy. Then, he was one of the most, if not the most,
actively militant of our public men. He had, as has
been said, two classes of opponents: one class the




90           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
regular constitutional opposition, as represented by the
Whig leaders; the other class composed of such men
as O'Connell and his immediate satellites, and Mir.
Hume, Mr. Wakley, and other representatives of the
Radical interest. With one or the other of these he
was.in a perpetual state of conflict. It was the fashion
at the time with his enemies, and indeed they have
not forgotten the trick now, to attribute this constant
warfare in which the noble lord was engaged to his
own infirmity of temper, which made it impossible for
him to be on good terms with any one. They invariably made him the assailant, and insinuated that if
others did not attack him they would not themselves
be left alone. All was laid to the score of his natural
irritability and irascibility of disposition, which would
not let him rest in quiet himself, as other easy-going
statesmen were content to do, or let others be at
peace. They overlooked, or would not see, one quality
in Lord Stanley's mind which explained the whole.
They had been so long accustomed to a kind of moral
laxity in the mode adopted by public men of dealing
with great questions, that they could not at first understand a man who looked upon politics, not as a
mere game of skill in which the reward of success
was rank and power, but as a real and serious business, in which the temporal and even the spiritual
welfare of the nation was at stake.  They did not
see that Lord Stanley was in earnest, that there was
a sincerity animating all his public acts which made it
impossible for him to fence with blunted foils. What
was play to others was real, serious, responsible work
to him, and hence his disposition to treat men and
measures in a spirit which, when misunderstood, appeared to be an angry one. Angry men usually become the slaves of their own passion. The intellectual powers lose their influence, and the victim of this
kind of excitement is sure to place himself speedily in




LORD STANLEY.                 91
a false position. Did Lord Stanley ever exhibit these
symptoms of the infirmity attributed to him? No.
On the contrary, if not always calm, he was at least
collected; and however far a species of moral indignation, which often infused itself into his politics, might
carry him, he never lost his self-possession. Though
liable to be, to all appearance, carried beyond himself
in the excitement of debate, he never forgot his object,
or failed to strike the decisive blow at the happy moment.  Lord Stanley never really lost his temper.
The target as he was, during the stormy period to
which we refer, of all the vulgar abuse of the Radicals
and particularly of the Irish party, he availed himself
of the full limits of parliamentary license in paying off
the assailants in their own coin; but that he did this
so neatly, keenly, pointedly, and provokingly was
proof enough that his intellectual powers had not been
blinded or his judgment carried away by strong gusts
of passion or ill-temper, as his enemies insinuated.
No; it was because Lord Stanley did not lose his temper that those who smarted so often under his lash
asserted that he did. Had he really been the man
they represented, they would have covered him with
ridicule, not with reproach.
It was very remarkable, the influence he exercised
over the House of Commons while ranked with Sir
Robert Peel in opposition to the Whig ministry. Of
course his position as a speaker had long since been
ascertained. His very first speech of any importance,
in the year 1820, on Mr. Hume's motion against the
temporalities of thep Irish church, stamped him at
once as the possessor of no ordinary talents as a debater. Many successive efforts, during the ten or twelve
years immediately succeeding, confirmed the opinion
then formed; and his speeches and general conduct
while secretary for Ireland under the Whig government proved that he would be equal to almost any




92            ORATORS OF THE AGE.
emergency. He stood the brunt of all the fervid eloquence, the searing invective, the keen sarcasm of
Sheil during the great anti-tithe agitation; he withstood
the still more terrible because more earnest and impassioned denunciations of O'Connell, who had not then
weakened the influence which his emancipation victory had gained for him. No one will deny that Mr.
Stanley was then equal to his task, nor that there are
few who at that time could have filled his post, or have
conducted such difficult affairs with so much firmness or
so little of weak compromise. No doubt he made enemies; no doubt he laid the foundation of that hatred
of his name which enabled O'Connell to hold him up
at a later period to the execration of the whole people of Ireland. But the belief that he was doing his
duty to his country in the most enlarged sense sustained him amid all the obloquy he suffered. And so
again it was in the great struggle which he maintained side by side with Sir Robert Peel against the
Whigs, from the year 1835 to 1840. The power he
then exercised was almost magical. There was something so earnest and unpremeditated in his assaults,
yet they were sustained with such vigor, such moral
momentum and intellectual skill, that he quite took
the house by storm.  Even foes admired.  They
could not but confess his power. His oratory, for the
great effect he can produce, is unique and unparalleled
in its total freedom from affectation or the usual preparation which great speakers resort to. He disdains,
too, all the arts which other orators adopt, or, if he uses
them, he has also acquired the higher art of concealing
their use. If any thing, there is too palpable a rejection of the ordinary graces of manner-that preliminary
deference which the artist should always show to his
art. He seemed to think his subject too great and important to render any extrinsic appliances necessary.
This was in the manner: the matter was far different




LORD STANLEY.                93
After sitting with folded arms, his legs extended to
their full length, the heels resting on the Speaker's table, his hat slouched over his face as it were moodily,
he would suddenly start up and present himself to the
House to speak. A rough, somewhat slovenly and
ungraceful exterior and style of dress, features hard,
with lines strongly marked, and a frowning, almost
scowling expression, these did not at first prepossess
you; but another glance reminded you how high,
broad, and full of intellect was the forehead, and how
keenly piercing was the eye. The mouth, too, told in
its clear outline, its firmly compressed lips, and the
lines drawn around it, how often, and how successfully
it had been made the ally of thought; how often it had
helped in the expression of sarcasm, that passion of
the intellect. You were instantly struck with the
consciousness of mental power displayed in the countenance, and with a marked simplicity of style and
manner. There was no attempt at attitude, no preparation as for an oratorical display. But there was a
collectedness in the beating which it was impossible to
misunderstand. He seemed to be fully aware what he
could do, and to be quietly determined to do it. The
next thing which struck an observer (we speak in the
past tense, because we are referring more particularly
to a former period) was the exquisite clearness of his
voice, which was of remarkably fine quality, silvery, yet
very manly; allnost as musical at times as the notes
of an oboe, yet also sonorous when deep themes were
touched, or the speaker's moral feeling was aroused.
His action, too, was simple in the extreme.
All this, however, was but the external and unimportant part of Lord Stanley's oratory. For, although
no man had greater command over his physical powers
than he had, though in few were the outlets of expression so completely the willing and immediate slaves
of the intellect in conveying the thought or the feeling




94           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
of the moment, yet Lord Stanley trusted less than
most speakers do to the advantages which his voice
and countenance gave him. He rather threw himself
on his intellectual resources, confident in the justice
of his cause, or, at all events, in the soundness and invulnerability of the view he took of it. His oratory was
essentially stimulative, agreeably and excitingly so to
friends, provokingly so to enemies. No man produced
greater results in this way with less apparent effort.
His hits at his opponents were the more effective and
annoying, because so intangible. Hints, insinuations,
sarcasms conveyed by a glance, a sneering tone of
voice, or a curl of the lip,-these were thrown off like
sparks from the anvil. To notice them was a confession of an opponent of their applicability. Yet they
told with the audience; and many a sudden, sharp,
and rapturous cheer showed the victims of his tormenting power that the random shots had hit; yet they
dared not reply, lest they should increase the ridicule.
But these formed only the fringe, as it were, of the
speech. The staple was of much sterner and more
sterling stuff. No man could argue a question with
more exquisite analytical power than Lord Stanley.
There was a clearness and precision in his statements
which one looks for in vain in cotemporary speakers,
except perhaps, in Lord Lyndhurst, who, if possible,
excels Lord Stanley in the massive simplicity of his
style of argument.  Both these speakers produce
alike on the mind the idea of great intellectual power,
and bespeak a kind of reliance on what they may advance, independently of any exercise of the judgment
upon it. This prepossession is the shadow which
greatness casts before it.
Lord Stanley has great command of language in the
true sense of the phrase. Many men gain credit for
having command of language, when in fact they have
only a copious flow of words. One of the most distin



LORD STANLEY.                 95
guished orators in this country-perhaps, taking his
early as well as later efforts into account, the most distinguished-has acquired a most undeserved reputation
for command of language, when in fact his claim rests
on the reckless profusion with which he uses his vocabulary, more especially on his remarkable memory
for synonyms. In his writings, it is true, Lord Brougham displays a purer taste. Lord Stanley's command
of language is of a very different kind. It deserves the
naibe. He knows the real value of words, not merely
as words, but as parts of a sentence. He uses them,
to all appearance, naturally and spontaneously, but at
the same time with so much taste and art that they
appear to possess more value than when used by
any other speaker, Mr. Macaulay, perhaps, excepted.
He combines unusual force of phrase with elegance of
diction, to an extent which would seem to be the result
of severe study and premeditation, but that the circumstances of haste and the ephemeral nature of the topics discussed forbid the suspicion of preparation. There
is Horatian brevity, delicacy, and force in some of his
sentences.
Lord Stanley relies so much on himself, depends so
entirely on the workings of his own intellect, stimulated
by the hope of triumph, upon the material he has furnished, that he seldom borrows weapons from others.
He very rarely quotes, except, indeed, in cases where
it is necessary in a statistical point of view, or where
he is arguing matters of detail; but when he does quote
for oratorical purposes, he does so most effectually.
Lord Lyndhurst and Mr. Sheil are his only rivals in
this respect; that is to say, in the effect with which
they make another man's thoughts their own for the
time being.
An instance of Lord Stanley's powers in quotation
occurred in one of the Irish debates nearly ten years
ago. It had been the policy of the Conservative oppo



96             ORATORS OF THE AGE.
sition to show that the Whig'government were the
mere tools and puppets of O'Connell, who was prepared
(as the event proved) to cast them off with contumely
as soon as his turn was served. The House was
densely crowded, and in a most excited state, at an
early hour in the morning, after a most animated debate, in which some of the first speakers had exerted
their powers to the utmost.  Lord Stanley had been
for some time charming and stimulating the House by
the eloquent manner in which he attacked his opponents, and the indignant sarcasms he heaped upon
them; when suddenly adverting to the position in
which they stood toward O'Connell, he broke out in
the words of Hotspur to his uncles: —
"'But shall it be, that you-that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man;
And, for his sake, wear the detested blot
Of murd'rous subornation-shall it be
That you a world of curses undergo;
Being the agents, or base second means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?0, pardon me, that I descend so low
To show the line and the predicament,
Wherein you range under this subtile king.
Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power,
Did gage them both in an unjust behalfAs all of you, God pardon it! have done?
And shall it. in mere shame, be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded, and shook off
By him, for whom these shames ye underwent?
No; yet time serves, wherein you may redeem
Your banish'd honors, and restore yourselves.Into the good thoughts of the world again:
Revenge the jeering and disdained contempt
Of this proud king; who studies day and night,
To answer all the debt he owes to you,
Even with the speedy payment of your deaths."
It required no ordinary degree of moral courage tc




LORD STANLEY.                 97
attempt, or of oratorical skill to deliver a quotation so
long and so dangerous, to a crowded House at a late
hour. Its effect was appalling, from the extraordinary
power of emphasis thrown into the delivery. No actor, though his profession be to harmonize the voice
and to fascinate the feelings, could have given the passage with more powerful or thrilling effect.  The
House was completely carried away; and the ministers against whom it was directed seemed really alarmed at the torrent of feeling raised against them. Such
debating seemed no longer play.
But Lord Stanley has long ceased these extraordinary efforts. From the nature of his mental organization he requires a great occasion and a worthy antagonist to draw him out, to stimulate him to the full exercise of his power. Lord Brougham is the only man
so situated as to be able at present to compete with
him, and there the contest seems to have been declined.
There is at present no peer opposed to him who is
qualified to measure swords with Lord Stanley. Lord
Clanricarde, with all the will, has not the requisite
power; and Lord Clarendon's mind is of too philosophical a cast. Earl Grey has all the desire to compete
with Lord Stanley; but, although powerful in argument, he does not equal his noble rival in the more delicate and refined intellectual attributes of the debater.
Causes of irritation thus placed at a distance, it is-to be
hoped that Lord Stanley will steadily develop those
capabilities for statesmanship which we firmly believe
him to possess, but which have hitherto been partially
obscured in the excitement of party conflict.
I




LORD PALMERSTON.
IN a debate some few years ago in the House of
Commons, Sir Robert Peel excited considerable merriment by alluding to Lord Palmerston as having been
called " a pure old Whig." The phrase was felt to be
an equivocal one. It might be taken as an ironical allusion to the ostentation with which the noble lord then
paraded what he termed ", Whig principles" before
the House-principles which he, at that time, adhered
to with the tenacity, and propounded with the zeal, proverbial in recent converts; or, still in the same spirit
of quizzing, the right honorable baronet might have
meant to refer to the weight of authority which the
noble lord added to any intrinsic truth there might be
in the political views referred to: because, from the
opportunities he has had of testing the opinions of other
political parties of which he has, during his long life,
been a member, his preference for,,  Whig principles"
might be held to be the result of settled conviction.
There was still another sense in which the sly humor
which dictated the phrase might have designed it to
apply to the noble lord.
The sexagenarian juvenility of Lord Palmerston
has been the subject of much good-humored raillery.
The public are already sufficiently familiar with the
somewhat stale jokes which the newspapers have for
some time applied to the noble lord, because they have
chosen to assume that he, more than most men, sacrifices to the Graces. Lord Palmerston is too respect



LORD PALMIERSTON.               99
able, both in talents and character, to be affected by
such harmless nonsense; more especially as it is, in
point of fact, founded on error. Nor should we here
so particularly refer to the subject, but that if not in
his outward man, at least in his mind, the noble lord
certainly does reverse some of the usual laws of Nature. Although from early youth he has been, in some
capacity or other, before the public, and during the
greater part of the time in the service of the state,
it is only of late years that he has I, come out," either
as a statesman or as an orator. Perhaps this may have
arisen from constitutional indolence; yet the restless
activity of his subsequent ministerial career almost
forbids the assumption. It may have been because he
did not desire to thrust himself prominently before the
public while he still occupied a position in the senate,
or filled situations in the government, comparatively
subordinate; but a reference to Hansard will show
that at no time was the noble lord deficient in a characteristic propensity for self-display, although his efforts in parliament for many years scarcely distinguished him from the ordinary herd of level speakers.
Like the blossoming of the aloe, the parliamentary
fruition of his genius, though long delayed, is marvelous. Few, indeed, are the men who, after passing
through a youth and manhood of indifference, apathy,
or, at the utmost, of persevering mediocrity, could,
long after the middle age had passed, after the fire of
life might be supposed to be almost exhausted, blaze
out, like the sacred flame on the altar of the fire-worshiper, at the very moment of decay. In this respect, as in
many others, Lord Palmerston is a puzzle. He:has
begun where most men end. Long passed over and
forgotten by Fame, he suddenly recalls her, and arrests
her in her flight, compelling her to trumpet forth his
name.  Not even recognized as a statesman, but
classed among the Red Tapists; as a speaker ranked




100             ArATORS OF TIHE AGE.
with the steady-paced humdrums; he was almost the
very last man in the House of Commons on whom one
would have fixed as being likely ever to rival Lord John
Russell in the leadership of the Whig party. Suddenly, without apparent cause, without its being discovered that he had become possessed of the elixir of
life, he astonished his cotemporaries by the display of
a vigor which neither his youth nor middle age had
shown: he entered the lists alike with the veterans
and the young ardent spirits of the House of Commons, proving himself a very master of the art which
he had thus with so tardy a haste essayed, and raising
himself to a level with the very best speakers, nay,
even ultimately rivaling Lord Lyndhurst himself in
the ability and power with which he used the ordinary
weapons of party for the annoyance of his foes. Like
the sleeping prince in the fairy tale, although by the
influence of the spell half an age had passed over his
bodily frame, the fire and energy of his early days
remained. The heat, the vigor, even the rashness of
youth, were in him most strangely combined with the
authority and experience of more advanced years.
The hero of Godwin's romance did not more secretly
or more instantaneously discard the crust of time. It
is told of Mathews, that one of his most pleasing pastimes was suddenly, chance-wise, to mingle with any
group of boys, asking to join in their play; when he
would, by the force of his rare genius for imitation,
throw himself completely into the childish character,
romp with them, laugh with them, cheat with them,
quarrel with them; till, although they could not at
first quite fraternize with the very tall stranger, they
gradually began to look on him as less unlike themselves, and, at last, admitted him to the full rights of
companionship. Similar, one may suppose, were the
feelings of the leading men of the House of Commons,
when Lord4 Palmerston, after having willfully hid his




LORD PALMERSTON.              101
powers so long, burst out upon them as a first-rate
speaker. It took them some time to believe it possible; but gradually their incredulity gave way under
the proofs of his ability and vigor; and they now acknowledge to the utmost of their admiration the mistake which they, in common with the noble lord himself, had made during so many years. Like some
diseases, Lord Palmerston's oratorical and political
talent was chronic; it required time for its development.
All things taken into account, Lord Palmerston is,
perhaps, the best debater among the Whig leaders of
the House of Commons. In the different qualities
which, when combined, go to render a man an orator,
he is excelled by many individuals among his cotemporaries. Lord John Russell shows more tact, more
intimate acquaintance with party history (not with
parties, for in that knowledge Lord Palmerston beats
all men living, having been a member of almost every
government within the memory of man), greater skill
in pointing allusions to the political errors of opponents,
and altogether more refinement in the management of
his parliamentary case. In eloquence, both of conception or in delivery, Lord Palmerston is, of course,
excelled by Mr. Sheil or Mr. Macaulay, and even by
men holding a far inferior rank as speakers. In soundness and vigor of argument he can not stand a moment's
comparison with Mr. Cobden or with Earl Grey (when
that nobleman does justice to his own powers), or
even with Mr. Charles Buller. Each speaker on his
own side, in fact, is in advance of him in some particular quality of the orator. Yet no one would for a
moment hesitate to place Lord Palmerston among the
first speakers in the House of Commons, or would
deny that he had derived from hearing one of that
nobleman's speeches as much pleasure, of its kind, as
if he had listened to the most brilliant efforts of Ma



102           ORATORS OF THlE AGE.
caulay, the most spirit-stirring of Sheil, or the most
skillful and satisfying of Lord John Russell.  The
peculiarity of Lord Palmerston which gives him this
singular power of charming with an oration as a whole,
the several parts of which are not calculated to please,
if critically analyzed, is his thorough and hearty spirit
of partisanship; not malignant, or angry, or mean, as
is that of most zealous advocates of embodied opinion
or interests, but frank, manly, open-hearted, and undisguised,-so mnuch so as to assume almost a sportive
character; as if parliamentary politics were a mere
pastime, a kind of relaxation from the heavier cares or
labors of administration or of ordinary political life, in
which all men are bound by a sort of mutual compact,
answering to the laws of a game, to exert their utmost powers to excel or to overcome each other, for
the sake of the distinction and applause which are the
reward of success.
This peculiarity must always be borne in mind in
forming our opinion of the noble lord. He takes up
political questions in parliament in the true forensic
spirit, but also with much of that interest which an
advocate feels, not so much in the fate of his client as
in the success of his own efforts. Lord Palmerston
appears to feel in a less degree the importance of
- Whig principles" than the advantage of a triumph
for the Whig party, and for himself as a member of.
the party. In this he differs from Lord John Russell,
who ministers to party feeling only so far as it is identified with the principles which he considers ought to
regulate him. Lord Palmerston, if he is one of the
most ready, facile, clever, adroit, among the leaders
of the Whigs in either House, appears also to be one
of the least earnest. His politics are as a garment,
worn because it is thought to be the most becoming.
As far as it is possible to divine the motives of public
men, hidden as they sometimes are for years under




LORD PALMERSTON.              103
accumulations of almost necessary deceit, this appears
to be the ruling tendency of Lord Palmerston's public
character. On one subject alone is he always terribly,
inconveniently in earnest-the praise of his own foreign policy. However artificial may be his advocacy
on other questions, however he may, when he is determined to make a good party speech, spur himself
out of the languor which seems to be his habit of body
if, not of mind, no such aids to his energy are required
when the doings of Viscount Palmerston, sometime
her majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,
are concerned. But of this more hereafter.
Lord Palmerston, in a very good speech-a sort of
summary of the session, d la Lord Lyndhurst, which
he made at the close of the parliamentary campaign of
1842-said of Lord Stanley, " No man is a better offhand debater than the noble lord; but off-hand debaters
are apt to say whatever comes in their heads on the
spur of the moment, without stopping to consider
whether it is strictly the fact."  Had the noble lord
been engaged in painting his own portrait instead of
Lord Stanley's, he could not more successfully have
hit on a leading trait. It is chiefly on this very account
that Lord Palmerston is so useful to his party as a debater. A more thoroughly sincere politician would be
more cautious. He would have more reverence for
truth, more respect for political character. Resting
his faith on principles, he would be more chary of
trifling with the facts on which they are founded. But
Lord Palmerston is a debater, not always a statesman;
a first-rate gladiator in the great political arena, and
usually a successful one: but, gladiator-like, he inquires little whether the cause he fights in be the
cause of truth, being only anxious to show his own
skill and overcome his rival. The dexterity with which
he fences at the case opposed to him, touching its
vulnerable points with his sarcastic venom, or triumph



104          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
ing in the power with which he can make a feint of
argument answer all the purposes of a real homethrust, is only equaled by his corresponding watchfulness and agility in parrying the thrusts of an opponent,
guarding himself fiom his attack, or skipping about to
avoid being hit. In these qualities, Sir James Graham
approaches the nearest to him. But Lord Palmerston, beside all these practiced arts, has also great
plausibility, can work himself up admirably to a sham
enthusiasm for liberal principles (just as Sir James
used, in former days, to give a high coloring to his
Conservatism), and can do it so well that it really requires considerable experience and observation to enable one to detect the difference between his clever imitation and the reality. He is almost unsurpassed in
the art with which he can manage an argument with
a show of fairness and reason, while only carrying it
and his admirers far enough to serve the purpose of
party in the debate. He seldom commits himself so
far as to be laid open to even the most practiced debaters. They may ridicule him upon his excessive
official vanity and imperviousness to criticism on that
score, but they can hardly discover a flaw in the particular case which it suits him for the time being to
make out. On the other hand, he possesses himself
considerable power of ridicule; and when he finds the
argument of an opponent either unanswerable, or that it
could only be answered by alliance with some principle
that might be turned against himself, he is a great
adept at getting rid of it by a side-wind of absurd allusion. He very well understands the temper of the
House of Commons, and especially of his own party.
He knows exactly what will win a cheer, and what
ought to be avoided as calculated to provoke laughter
in an assembly where appreciation of what is elevated
in sentiment is by no means common. He is good at
parliamentary clap-traps, and an invaluable coadjutor




LORD PALMERSTON.              105
in the leadership of a party, which, for want of some
common bond of cohesion, and distracted as the WhigRadical party was by conflicting opinion and interest,
required to be kept in good-humor by the meaningless
yet inspiritinggeneralitiesof Liberalism. Of the sortof
quasi-philosophical language-the slang of undefined
but developing democracy-which pleases the crude,
unformed minds of those who are self-chosen to decide
on public affairs, and on the conduct of trained statesmen and practiced politicians, Lord Palmerston is a
master. He is clever at setting traps for such vain- and
voluntary dupes. Vague and vapid generalities become,
under the magical influence of his congenial intellect,
high-sounding and inspiring principles. His process of
development, unlike that ascribed to the material
world by a recent theorist, stops short at the nebulous
stage. To resolve these seductive immaterialities into
their elements, so that they might form more natural
combinations-to allow the misty mass to become concrete-to let relaxed Whigism consolidate itself into
Chartism, or even into more congenial and more despised Radicalism, would be most inconvenient and
disagreeable to one who, like Lord Palmerston, is
a thorough aristocrat in all his real, self-confessed
thoughts and prejudices, and who is disposed to treat
all parvenues in politics with the genuine heartfelt contempt, the hereditary hauteur, of, a pure old Whig."
It partly follows from these things that Lord Palmerston is a good political tactician. He scents keenly
and quickly the changing wind. He probably thinks
little, but he observes much. A superficial glance is
sufficient to decide him on his line of conduct, because
the popular feeling of the hour is what he seeks to
captivate. He is clever in the arithmetic of party. He
counts heads, and with the increase of numbers correspond his swelling periods. This sort of time-serving policy is not usually favorable to political foresight,




106          ORATORS OF TIlE AGE.
nor would any one be disposed to accord that quality
in any remarkable degree to Lord Palmerston.
Yet we are going to exhibit the noble lord in the
character of a prophet. We would much rather attribute to his sagacity what we are, however, compelled to ascribe to some unlucky accident-the fact that
he. foretold not only the free-trade policy of Sir Robert
Peel, but also the period of its adoption. Speaking in
September, 1841, Lord Palmerston said, —, The right
honorable baronet had said that he was not prepared
to declare that he would never propose a change in the
Corn-laws; but he certainly should not do so unless
at the head of a united cabinet. Why, looking at the
persons who form his administration, he must wait
something near five years before hle can do it."  It is a
remarkable coincidence, that in four years and eight
months from the date of this prediction, Sir Robert
Peel introduced his measure for the repeal of the
Corn-laws. So well did the Whigs understand their
man.
To securing success as a debater, Lord Palmerston
sacrifices the hope of becoming a first-rate orator. It
is the province of the orator, while he is appealing to
the passions or developing the policy of the hour, also
to shape and polish his discourse and to interweave in
it what will render it interesting for all time. Such
qualities and such objects are not to be distinguished
in the excellent party speeches of Lord Palmerston.
They are made for the House of Commons, not for
posterity. Except in the clap-traps we have mentioned, there is no ambitious language, no pretense of that
higher eloquence, which will: stir the hearts of men
after the particular voice is dumb and the particular
man dead. You can not pick extracts out of his
speeches which will bear reading, and will excite interest, apart from the context. There are no maxims or aphorisms, nor any political illustrations or pass



LORD PAL MERSTON.             107
ages of declamatory vehemence; but, on the other
hand, the language is choice, the style pure and simple, the construction of the sentences correct, -even
elegant, and the general arrangement of the topics
skillful in the extreme. The speeches seem not to be
prepared with art, yet they are very artful; and there
is a general harmony in the effect, such as might be
expected friom the spontaneous outpouring in argument of a highly cultivated and well regulated mind.
And although, as has been said, he is chargeable with
inordinate garrulity on the subject of his foreign administration, yet you will sometimes find him speaking
on topics personal to himself in a high and gentlemanly
tone, quite unaffected, and which is extremely impressive. It is because his party speeches are a sort of
serious pastime that he can at will throw aside all
party feeling, and speak in a manly and elevated tone
on great public questions. One of his amusing peculiarities is to identify himself with his party in all their
great proceedings.  " We" acceded to power;, We"
brought in such a measure;, We" felt this or that;
-a sort of "I-and-my-king" style, which, in the
somewhat self-important tones of the noble lord, and
associated with his reputation for dictatorship in his
own official department, sometimes borders on the
ludicrous.
However much Lord Palmerston may fall into the
sham-patriotic vein in his usual party speeches, there
is one subject on which, as we have said, he is inconveniently in earnest. Touch his foreign policy, and on
the instant his soul is in arms. Nay, he does not
wait till it is touched, aspen-like though his vanity be
on that theme. So intimately possessed is he of the
absolute excellence of his foreign administration, and
of its importance to mankind, that he is unceasingly,
and without being asked, expounding and explaining
it. Hle defends himself spontaneously, without having




108          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
been attacked; and he never defends himself without
gratuitously attacking some one else.  Sir Robert
Peel, once charged him, in well sugared parliamentary
phrase, with assurance. The imputation was well
aimed; every one instantly responded to it; for, indeed, the noble lord has no unnecessary modesty. in
speaking of himself or his services. He is assiduous,
and altogether unrestrained by delicacy, in trumpeting his own exploits as foreign minister. All the wars
he didn't and all the wars he did bring about; all
his dextrous manceuvers by which, while proclaiming
peace, he was countenancing a kind of war in disguise;-these have been paraded session after session,
upon all imaginable pretexts, before the House of
Commons, till Lord Palmerston's pertinacity has become proverbial. His amour propre, in fact, on the
subject of his foreign policy almost takes the shape of
a mania. His constant references to it, and the extent to which he has trespassed on the patience of
the House, have detracted, to a considerable extent,
from the influence which his undeniable talents as a
speaker, and even his admitted abilities as a foreign
minister, have long since entitled him to and secured
for him. He is so easily excited on this topic, that
whatever subject he may be talking on, however much
his speech may necessarily be confined to subjects of a
domestic nature, his mind seems, by a natural affinity,
to glide into the one great theme which occupies his
thoughts. At a guess, it might be hazarded that, taking the average of his speeches during the last ten or
twelve years, four fifths of them, at least, have consisted of self-praise, or self-defense, in connection with
his foreign policy.
It must not, however, be supposed that Lord Palmerston is therefore held in any contempt by the House.
Quite the reverse. They may think that he shows a want
of taste and tact in thus yielding so constantly to the




LORD PAL MERSTON.              109
ruling influence of his mind; but they are not the less
prepared to award him the full amount of praise, and,
what he more values, of attentive listening, to which
his position, whether officially or legislatorially, entitles him. They are willing to admit that, as the
foreign minister of England, he has shown himself animated by something of the spirit of the great Earl of
Chatham, in his magnanimous determination to uphold, at all hazards, the national honor. In his first
administration of the Foreign Office, his task was to
make a peace-at-any-price party, pursue a war-at-anyprice policy. It was his duty, as well as his ardent
desire, to make the English name respected throughout the world. He took a high tone with. foreign nations; and they felt that, while Lord Palmerston was
at the head of foreign affairs, they could not insult us
with impunity.  The House of Commons were fully
aware of these things, and were disposed to respect
him accordingly: but while listening to his perpetual
explanations and justifications, they could not help
feeling that a minister who was thus paltering between
peace and war was very likely to illustrate the old
adage concerning the ultimate fate of him who tries to
sit on two stools. They saw that his manly policy,
instead of showing itself in quiet dignity, was detracted from by a restless spirit of intermeddling, a habit of
provoking the irritability of foreign nations, as if for
the mere purpose of showing our strength to disregard it. An opponent characterized his proceedings
by the terms, "restless activity and incessant meddling." Lord Palmerston seems conscious that such
is the opinion entertained of his conduct; for he has
himself quoted the terms and deprecated such an application of them.
But the verdict seems to have been pronounced by
the House of Commons, that the foreign policy of
Lord Palmerston has been more spirited, vigorous,




110          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
expert, than politic, dignified, or wise. It is confessed
that -he has enlarged views, which, perhaps, he has
scarcely had a fair opportunity of developing; but, at
the same time,~ it appears to be felt that the steps he
took to carry out those views acted as so many obstructions. He was for universal peace and free commercial intercourse, but he thought to obtain them by
bellicose demonstrations. He had Peace in his mouth,
but War in his right hand.
Out of doors, Lord Palmerston is very much misunderstood. The popular idea of him represents him
as an antiquated dandy. He is really nothing of the
sort, but a man of unusual vigor, both of mind and
body, upon whom Time has made less impression
than usual. He is not more particular in his dress
than are most men of his station in society; and if he
be charged with sacrificing to the graces, all we can
say on the subject is, that we could point out a hundred members of the House of Commons, of all ages,
who are more open to ridicule on this score than
Lord Palmerston. Any pretension he may have is,
in fact, not personal, but mental. His bearing is eminently that of the gentleman, quiet and unassuming,
but manly. As a speaker, his physical powers are
scarcely equal to what his mind prompts him to
achieve. There is a kind of faded air, which you can
not help observing; but this impression may, after all,
only arise from a constitutional languor of manner,
and from the peculiar intonation of his voice, which
has a hollow and fluty sound. With all his talents
as a debater, he wants that special combination of personal dignity with popular qualities, which alone could
qualify him to be the sole leader of his party, should
any cause bring about the secession of Lord John
Russell.




LORD LYNDHURST.
OUR aristocracy act wisely, as well with respect to
their own interests as for those of the country, when
they allow admission to their ranks and the enjoyment
of their exclusive privileges, as the invariable reward,
if not the prescriptive right of preeminent ability in
the study and practice of the law.
The position of the,law-lords" renders them advisers of the peers in legislation. If they do not originate the laws, though of many they are the real and
sole authors, they at least watch over their administration, and prevent the passing of bad ones; while they
are practically the guardians of the constitution and the
liberty of the subject.
The lord chancellor of England stands in a still more
important and responsible position. He is not merely
the exponent of the laws when made: he is chief
among those who advise the policy which makes them.
His ex-oJJicio guardianship of the royal conscience may
not in these days of utilitarian policy have all the practical
efficacy, either for guidance or restraint, which the
theoretical importance of the office implies. But lord
chancellors during the last century or more have, by
the common consent of statesmen, gradually acquired
an influence in political affairs, very different, perhaps,
from that which the nature of their functions originally
warranted; but, in fact, far more real, more extensive,
and more important to the interests of the state.
Great, too, as their direct and official influence is, their




112           oIRATORS OF THE AGE.
indirect power is still greater. The wisest and most
distinguished statesman is but an amateur in the making of law. However great his abilities or correct his
principles, his opinion is but that of a gifted or well
informed individual, if, indeed its importance be not
often derived from his being the head of a party. But
the lord chancellor is the living representative in the
cabinet of a great system, the growth of centuries of
thought and experience, and framed out of events,
principles, and the necessities of mankind, by some of
the greatest minds the world has produced. His dictum is not a mere personal opinion; it carries the
weight of that great system with it. As, except in rare
instances, he occupies that exalted position in right of
his perfect mastership of the law, joined to excellence,
if not preeminence, in the general qualifications of
statesmanship, it is not possible but that his decision on
a question must, to a very great extent, influence the
course taken by the executive government in their initiative character as legislators. But his indirect, and,
so to speak, extra-official influence does not end here.
His position in the cabinet, and as president of the
debates of the House of Peers, give him a vast degree
of personal importance in an assembly where, of necessity, so many of its members must be guided by personal considerations; from the majority being there by
the accident of birth. The species of influence, of
course, varies with the personal character of the individual who, for the time being, fills the office of lord
chancellor. The more commanding are his personal
qualities, the more direct and immediate is the influence of his example. But even the lord chancellor,
most indebted for his elevation to his legal knowledge
alone, and least to his eloquence or political ability, even
he exerts over the acts of the House of Peers, and,
through them, over the country, an influence of which
the public generally are very little conscious, and which




LORD LYNDHURST.               113
far transcends any power derived from the office of
keeper to the conscience of the sovereign.
It is, we repeat, wise in the aristocracy to reserve
such an office as a reward for those who have distinguished themselves in the practice of the law-who,
after a long course of servitude to that severe study,
have at length made themselves thoroughly masters of
our whole system of jurisprudence, and of that great
fabric of constitutional law upon- which so much of the
independent character of the people of this country,
and their respect for the rights and privileges of each
other, is based. A man so elevated to the privileged
order becomes Conservative by habit as well as by
right. He is likely to be opposed to all innovation for
innovation's sake, and is able to bring to bear upon proposed changes the weight of experience and reputation.
His interests, ideas, and prejudices, will all be identified with the maintenance of order.. He will be disposed rather to stop and realize the past or the present
than to tempt the future. It is true that, during the
first part of the last fifteen years, a great exception to
these rules was exhibited on the woolsack; but even
in that instance time and experience have worn away
the first rash ardor Which novelty and the unexpected
possession of vast power engendered; and he who at
one time promised to be the greatest and most formidable innovator of his day, has grown to be the greatest
upholder of what is, in opposition to what he once thought
ought to be. There is no resisting the influence of a
thorough legal education on the mind. Political feel
ing, or other extraneous causes, may disturb it for a
time, but, sooner or later, it will exhibit itself in matured thought and steady principle.
For the country it is good that the presiding authority in the Upper House should be the character we
have hinted at, even more than for the privileged orders. For he who has mounted up from the assertion
H




114          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
and defense of individual rights to the entire comprehension of the collective rights of the people and the
relative claims of classes, is not the worst man to be
intrusted with the consideration of propositions which,
for good or for evil, are to affect those rights and claims.
Nor is it less advantageous to the great body of the
people that they should have, in the most secret and
the highest council in the empire, one who, raised already above the influence of ambition, and conscious
that he has a character at stake with posterity, has
been throughout life nursed and strengthened in the
principles of justice and equity, and who regards them
as the law of his mind.
If the foregoing be not considered too exalted an idea
of the dignity and power attached to the office of lord
chancellor of England, it will not seem that too high a
position is claimed for Lord Lyndhurst when we say,
that of all men who have held the office within the
memory of living men, and of almost all of whom we
have record, he has shown himself the best qualified
for it. Of course this opinion is advanced with reference only to his learning, judgment, and general ability
as a statesman, and profound acquaintance with the
law. Party men may take a party line in discussing
such subjects, but from the moment that a man of
Lord Lyndhurst's order becomes invested with the
responsibilities of legislation, he casts aside party feeling, however much it may have animated him in the
struggle for power, and devotes himself to the furtherance of those objects which he believes to be most
for the good of the country. Public opinion is at once
so watchful and so powerful, that even the most ambitious minds are confined within a legitimate sphere of
action.,We, therefore, confine our consideration to
the abilities possessed by public men for carrying out
their views, and judge with reference to them alone,
regardless of conflicting opinions on the good or evil




LORD LYNDHURST.               115
tendency of those views. This is, in fact, the only
ground on which the character of public men can be
canvassed with any hope of arriving at truth.
The influence of Lord Lyndhurst in the House of
Lords is almost coextensive with that of the Duke of
Wellington. Popular institutions favor the only legitimate despotism-that of mind; and these two Conservative statesmen remarkably illustrate this inevitable tendency of the weaker intellect to yield voluntary
respect, if not entire submission, to the stronger. Perhaps it would not be going too far to say, that in the
condition of the House of Lords for some years past,
if the Duke of Wellington and Lord Lyndhurst resolved upon carrying any particular measure, they had
the power to do so. That their proceedings are usually characterized by unfailing good sense and judgment, supplies a sufficient reason why they should
wield this influence; and renders it unnecessary to inquire whether they would be able to exercise it in the
same degree if they proposed measures which the
general common sense of the House would repudiate.
Of the fact, however, that those two statesmen are
now the ruling spirits in the House of Peers, there can
be little doubt.
The sources of their influence are different. The
duke's power over his obsequious fellow-peers is derived
from his great moral weight, his historical reputation,
his proved sagacity, and the steadfastness with which
he is known to uphold all that can contribute to the
consolidation of the national strength. It is a personal
influence. Men follow his lead because it is he who
leads, not because they have decided in their own
minds to go the same road. Lord Lyndhurst's influence, on the other hand, is intellectual-founded upon
the evident strength of his mind, his transcendent abilities in debate, and the towering proportions of his general character. His cotemporaries yield him the pre



116           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
cedence, because they feel assured that he has brought
to bear upon any question before him all the resources
of a perfectly organized intellect-that learning, acuteness, experience, and judgment, have done their utmost. The duke, they think, must be right, because
a sort of moral instinct directs him to the true policy.
Lord Lyndhurst commands their support because they
feel that he has investigated all the bearings and exhausted all the modes of which a subject is capable,
and that he will take the right course by the pure
preference of reason and judgment.
Nor when one looks at the man is it at all wonderful
that this homage should be paid to his intellect. If an
involuntary respect is prompted by the mere contemplation of his fine countenance; by listening to his
deep, manly, sonorous voice; by his evident self-possession and unconscious exhibition of latent strength;
if nature has so stamped his outer man with the physical attributes of superiority, it is the less surprising
that those who have so often witnessed the effects of
his power on others, or felt it on themselves, should
be prepared to yield from settled conviction what others
less informed tender from immediate impulse. Lord
Lyndhurst is a master. There is the sure stamp of
superiority on all he says or does. You feel in the
presence of a spirit, to which art, education, and the
powerful workings of an active intellect, have superadded all that the knowledge of man can give. There
is mastery in his reasoning, mastery in his declamation,
mastery in his judgment, mastery in his humor. To
know him is to rely on his power. Like the giants of
the heathen mythology, he presents you in his sphere
with an ideal of strength. He seems to pursue his aim
with such steady momentum of will acting on power,
that failure appears impossible. Thus success breeds
success, achievement daunts opposition, the imagination magnifies strength and deprecates resistance. This




LORD LYNDHURST.               117
has been the history of his career in the House of
Peers. One man only, Lord Brougham, ever competed with him with forces at all equal in power, and
even they were inadequate because not so well regulated. But that joust-like combat between the two noble and learned lords, the public opponents and sworn
private friends, is over; and now Lord Lyndhurst has
no antagonist. It is not, perhaps, that no one could,
or no one dare; but continued success and repeated
displays of power have gained for him such a reputation and such respect, that no- peer chooses to match
strength with him. Apparently he knows this, and
walks over his cause with careless ease, as the strong
man passes along heedless of danger, because not fearing it. But his consciousness of strength is in no respect shown in arrogance. It is not allied to vanity.
It is latent, not ostentatiously displayed. It is questionable whether Lord Lyndhurst would care for praise,
if it cost him much effort. He is self-relying by a law
of his nature. His mind works for itself, and by itself.
Nor does temporary suspension of activity lessen its
powers. This is one consequence of its native superiority and admirable regulation. His iron takes no
rust from not being often worked. He will remain silent for weeks together, or merely play with his parliamentary functions; yet suddenly he arouses himself,
and shows that his powers are as full and as vigorous
as when he was engaged in nightly contest. He is always armed, though seldom in action.
Enter the House of Lords, and among the first, if
not the first who arrests your attention, is Lord Lyndhurst. As your eye wanders round the house, it is
suddenly stopped by an aspect that can not belong to
an ordinary man. It stands out in bold relief, like the
picture of a master on a well hung wall. In the center of a cluster of faces, some of the features familiar,
as those of Lord Brougham, Lord Ellenborough, or




118          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Lord Denman, the fine massive head and commanding
features of Lord Lyndhurst arrest your attention, and
fill your mind at once. When he sat as chancellor and
they were set in the heavy framework —the avalanche
of powdered curls-which custom requires our judges
to wear in court, and the lord chancellor only in the
House, their bright intelligence and serene intellectuality fascinated your gaze like a focus of concentrated
light. The outline is grand, and the features and proportions of the countenance are at once so massive and
so regular, that not even the furrows of many a long
year of mental toil, nor the settled lines of habitual
thought, ever strong and vivid in expression, have effaced what in youth must have presented a noble specimen of manly beauty. The forehead high and open,
the brow wide, the eyebrows broad and strongly marked, the eye keen, quick, pregnant with intellect, the
lion-like mouth, and full, firm-set chin: these present
a countenance at once so handsome and so masculine,
so full of power, yet so exquisitely harmonized, so
grandly serene in repose, yet so quick and vivacious in
activity, that you are content to dwell upon it as on
some fine piece of sculpture or architecture; and to ask
at once, unprompted by preconceived reverence, What
are the qualities of the mind of which that face is so
magnificent an index? If you are an enthusiast, if you
are prone to worship the divine image in the features
of man, you will say that such a countenance might be
chosen by a sculptor for his ideal of Wisdom. Thought
sits on it serene, as on a throne; it is, indeed, a temple
whence Intellect may utter her oracles-oracles, alas!
too often perverted and distorted by the passions of
humanity.
If by good fortune your visit to thle House should
have happened on a night when this remarkable man
has resolved to speak, the physical attributes of his oratory still more enchain your attention while confirm



LORD LYNDHURST.               119
ing your preconceived opinion of his mental supremacy. Nature seems to have organized him for his destiny as a public orator-as one of those singled out to
convey the magical influence of intelligence and sympathy from heart to heart and mind to mind. Had he
been born in more stirring and dangerous times, when
lives and empires, not ministers and measures, were at
stake, he must have stood forward as one of the world's
intellectual heroes. As it is, contemplating him amid
the lurid atmosphere of party, and under the disadvantages of that too close proximity which breeds contempt, he realizes much, if not all we expect from an
orator. His voice is full of organ-like music, deep and
sonorous, and capable of sufficient modulation for one
who rarely appeals either to the passions or the feelings, the stronger or the gentler sympathies of his
hearers, but rather to their intellect, their judgment,
their sense of the humorous. His bearing is dignified
in the extreme: it exhibits the boldness of the Tribune,
tempered by the calmness of the Senator. Self-possessed, cool, impressive, he elevates his audience to
the level of his own mind, and sustains them there:
he never descends from his elevation, as other orators
do, to obtain applause by echoing current prejudices or
party passions. When he uses those passions and
prejudices, he compels them by superior power to his
own purpose, and does not become the slave of his
own agents.. Like the rest of our public men, he is a
very different man, as an orator, when in power from
what he was when in opposition. Then, he could
condescend to be the partisan, and a powerful one he
was; but still you could see it was a condescension-a
tribute to the necessities of political strife, not an assault made in hot blood and pursued for the pleasure
and excitement of the combat. Lord Lyndhurst, rising in his remote corner on the extreme left of the opposition bench and delivering one of those teasing, ter



120          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
rific attacks on the Whig government which formed
the staple of his annual review of the session, was a
very different man from Lord Lyndhurst the Chancel —
lor, the moderator of the debates, the triumphant
warrior indulging in indolent repose, or the statesman
delivering the pure dictates of his judgment for the
general good of the whole country, instead of the temporary battle-cries of a party. At all times, however,
his oratory has displayed a rare union of power and
good taste. He is very self-denying for so powerful
a speaker. Great as his triumphs have been as an orator, he always left one under the impression that he
could effect much more if he chose.
But the essential power of this great man does not
always exhibit itself in the same serious way. If he
is giant-like in his strength, he is so also in a tendency
to the most playful humor. Strong minds are prone
thus to relax the severe tension of their faculties; and
Lord Lyndhurst does so to an extent which those who
only regard.him as the senator or the judge would hardly
conceive possible. And here, by the way, it may be observed that an error has gone abroad, favored by party
animosities, to the effect that Lord Lyndhurst is an illnatured or bad-tempered man. There could not be a
greater mistake; yet it is a very natural one, for the
vanquished are always prone to attribute some malign
power to the conqueror. That Lord Lyndhurst has,
from time to time, made his opponents feel the lash of
his ridicule can not be denied; nay, it is something for
his admirers to be proud of. But all sarcasm is not
necessarily malignant, nor calculated to inflict personal
wounds. The most careful search through Lord
Lyndhurst's speeches would fail to discover a single
instance in which the noble lord has indulged in ill-natured or unfair allusions to his opponents. But, on the
other hand, there are multitudes of instances-and our
sides ache again at the remembrance of them-where,




LORD LYNDHURST.              121
with good-natured irony and allowable keenness, he
has exposed their inconsistencies or their weaknesses.
In fact, Lord Lyndhurst's character is too dignified for
ill-nature. His sarcasms may be biting, but they are
never withering. This constitutes the great difference
between his irony and that of Lord Brougham.
To return, however, to Lord Lyndhurst's habit of
relaxing in playful humor from the over-tension of application. We only allude to what has occurred in
public when he sat as Chancellor. We merely look
at him as he appeared in the House of Lords, where,
in the intervals of important business, his stirring jest
and hearty laugh were infectious among the peers
who crowded round the woolsack to join in the little
private gossiping that often goes on there. These
things occurred in the noble lord's sportive moods,
when he seems like a lion at play. Perhaps the rigid
may observe, that these jokes and gambols (for, really,
they sometimes almost partook of that character) were
unworthy the great dignity of the judgment seat, or
the constitutional importance of the senate. To say
the truth they were sometimes carried quite far
enough; but it should be remembered, that these things
never occurred when there was any really important
business coming on; and that during a great portion
of the time of the ordinary sittings, when mere formal
business is disposed of, the House is more like a very
large drawing-room, where a dozen or so of gentlemen
are taking their ease, than the hereditary chamber of
legislature of a great empire.
If power be a striking characteristic of Lord Lyndhurst, judgment is not less so. He knows exactly
what he ought to do, and what to leave undone,-how
far to advance, and when to recede. In this quality he
even excels the Duke of Wellington; for he never
makes declarations under the influence of temporary
excitement which he afterward sees reason to regret,




122           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
or to recall. His so-called ", alien" speech is no proof
to the contrary; for it has been satisfactorily shown
that he was on that occasion misunderstood. It is
this quality of judgment-at once the most rare and
the most valuable in human affairs-that, together
with his intellectual preeminence, give him his.weight
and influence in the House of Peers. It regulates
his words and his deeds.
Good taste, or the same judgment applied in another
sphere, characterizes his speeches. There is a massive simplicity about them highly characteristic of the
man. The ideas are plain, forcible, clear to the simplest comprehension; the language terse, simple, vigorous, and epigrammatic. When epigrammatic, it is
not the less natural, as the particular form of expression is evidently not studied, but is shaped spontaneously in the mold of his mind. It is almost superfluous to add, that his reasoning is vigorous and unassailable; his perception acute; his comprehension large
and capacious. He never travels far wide from his subject, either in thought or language. He has a task to
perform, and no temptation to display will turn him
aside from his path. His eloquence does not run wild
in tangled luxuriance, like Lord Brougham's. Nor
does he ", get up" speeches, like Mr. Macaulay or Mr.
Sheil. There are very few prepared rhetorical passages, but all is simple, nervous exposition.  Every
word does its work, and no more work is undertaken
than the subject requires, or that can be well performed
with justice to it. For this reason, his isolated speeches will not excite so much admiration as those of some
of his cotemporaries. There are few of those striking passages which bear quotation for their independent beauty. His eloquence must be considered in connection with his whole political career; it is an integral
part of his character, not an attribute adopted for display or distinction.




LORD LYNDIIURST.              123
As a statesman, Lord Lyndhurst must share with
most of his cotemporaries the blame of inconsistency.
Where there is such equality of offense, censure ceases
to be invidious, perhaps to be effectual. Lord Lyndhurst, like his brethren in the ministry, was a conscientious anti-emancipationist in August, 1828; he was
a stanch supporter of the Emancipation Act in April,
1829. He took up both sides with equal facility.
Again, he was one of the most powerful and effective
agents of the Conservative party in undermining and
overthrowing the Whig government; he then became
one of the foremost of those who were acting as a government on Whig policy. But these grounds of criticism are beside our present purpose. We desire rather
to estimate his capabilities as a minister, and these are
transcendent. Admitting the principle of expediency,
a more efficient exponent of it, or one more able to carry
it out, is not to be found in the country. In a practical
age, he is eminently a practical man. He does not
allow even the most cherished opinions to interfere
with what he conceives to be inevitable necessity. He
meets political difficulties face to face, and grapples
with them, or accommodates himself to them, as the
case may be. His facility as a legislator and a statesman is only equaled by his extensive knowledge of the
laws, the constitution, and the necessities of the country, and his matured experience. His influence on the
minds of his countrymen, through the sway he exercises over the judgment of the peers, is enormous. He
has realized more than any lord chancellor, within the
memory of the present generation, those large and undefined privileges and powers which at the opening of
these remarks we have assigned as part of the unrecognized functions of the office he holds. He also excels his immediate predecessors in the degree of confidence he inspires in the House of Lords. Such
influence, such power, without direct responsibility,




124           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
would be dangerous, if intrusted to a man of ordinary
mind, with ambition, and passion, and deep-rooted
prejudices. But it becomes innocuous in proportion
to the intellectual and (politically speaking) moral worth
of the holder of it. It is the offspring of personal respect, and, therefore, can scarcely be accorded to an
unworthy or undeserving object. Its origin is a guaranty for its harmlessness. If it were not deserved, it
would not be conceded. This deference and confidence
follow as an almost necessary consequence in the case
of such a man as Lord Lyndhurst.




EARL GREY.
THE Whigs recognize the principle of an hereditary
succession even in party leadership: an office under
government, and ultimately a seat in the cabinet, with
occasionally an advance in the peerage, are as certainly
secured by a kind of law of entail to the Whig lordling
who turns his attention to politics, as is his paternal
estate. Public honors and power, under the favoring
forms of the constitution, have become, to a few families, almost a private property.  We do not say that
they inherit these things without deserving them; far
from it: the sons of the great Whig families have often
developed into statesmen, becoming by the force of
their talents-entitled to fresh honors; and in their turn
founding new families, all with the like claims on their
party. But they certainly have had a preference in
the first start into life which has not been enjoyed by
commoners generally, nor even by the scions of other
noble families professing, perhaps, liberal politics, but
not being within the charmed circle. An exclusiveness
in the distribution of offices, and the initiation into the
service of the state, has characterized the Whig party
since it first became possessed of power under the constitutional form of government; nor, until the bold offer
of Lord John Russell to Mr. Cobden, of an office under government, when that noble lord was forming an
administration on the resignation of Sir Robert Peel,
before introducing his free-trade plan, has there been
any material symptom of a relaxation of that rigid rule




126          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
of almost family preference. Mr. Macaulay's elevation
to the cabinet is a brilliant exception; but the ground
of his promotion has been, as we have shown, exceptional also.
The practice of sending the eldest sons of peers, who
hold by courtesy titles of nobility, into the House of
Commons as representatives of the people, is one of
the most singular of those compromises which are the
very essence of political and social life in England. Of
the advantage derived by the public from this arrangement there can not be the slightest doubt. A senate
composed of men inexperienced in public affairs, from
their very station comparatively ignorant of public wants,
and who would legislate more by their will than their
reason, without being subjected to restraint or responsibility,-such a body of privileged dictators would be
almost as dangerous as a purely democratic assembly.
Their laws would have no moral sanction. However
the constitution might assert or strive to enforce their
claim to hereditary wisdom, the merest crudities of a
purely popular representative would find more willing
support from the people than the most elaborate productions of such king-made oracles. But when they
have previously served and undergone training in the
House of Commons, they have secured a personal as
well as a legal claim on the respect of the nation.
They are then recognized by their deeds, not by their
titles only. The history of the chief party contests of
their time is a record of their speeches and votes: they
are identified in the minds of the people, of whatever
classes-Tory, Whig, or Radical, it is all the samewith the triumph of some favorite principle; or it may
be only with its defeats, yet defeats which are not the
less cherished, for they are looked upon as the precursors of future victories. Long before the time comes
at which, in the orter of nature, they are elevated to
the peerage, their intellectual and political standing




EARL GREY.                127
becomes ascertained, and they take a position at once.
Their claim comes backed by the suffrage of the public; and it is yielded to at once. The most active
among the peers, those most entitled by rank and experience in the Upper House to hold permanently the
lead on either side, at once give way when one of these
chosen men of the House of Commons comes up with
his certificate of superiority.
Beside the education in practical statesmanship which
young noblemen so situated receive during a few years'
campaigning in the House of Commons, a moralinfluence
is exercised over them which is also of the highest advantage to the nation. They learn, both by precept and
example, the value of public opinion, that indefinite but
omnipotent and omnipresent agent in the political affairs
of free countries. Few greater calamities can befall a
nation than a necessary separation and antagonism,
both of feeling and of interest, between the privileged
and the unprivileged classes. If a nobility so situated
be high-spirited, powerful, and deeply imbued with a
sense of hereditary right, they will restlessly strive at
an oligarchical tyranny. Revolution, in states so situated, is always more than a possibility, and democracy
lours in the distance. On the other hand, if this privileged and isolated nobility be not animated by the
higher range of ambitious motives, they will, from combining too much leisure with too much wealth, become
depraved in their moral habits; spreading the poison
of a vicious example through the whole social system.
Of each evil, history, past and present, affords too
many fatal instances. There must be a safety-valve
for the passions, whether political or personal. In our
system it is provided. The young noble, by the law
and the constitution a commoner, can only obtaip his
right to sit and speak in the representative assembly
by an appeal, more or less real and sincere, to the free
suffrages of the people. Coriolanus must sue for votes




128          ORATORS OF TIlE AGE.
in the market-place, or his ambition will Chafe and his
talents rust, while meaner men sway. Therefore (the
simile is rude) his nose must come to the grindstone.
Once in Parliament, emulation quells the baser passions in the soul, and the whole of the intellectual and
moral powers of the young aristocrat, according to his
degree of talent and intelligence, are devoted to the
one great object-distinction. That distinction can
only be obtained by commanding public opinion; first,
that of the House; then, that of the country at large.
Fortunately, the steady character and practical genius
of the British people render appeals to political passions
comparatively useless. In the House they are a sham
-oratorical flourishes, pretenses to turn a period,
laughed at for what they mean, admired for how they
are expressed. In the country, they evaporate with
the excitement of the election; disappear, like the
fleeting glories of the traveling theater, with the removal of the last plank of the hustings. It is turn and
turn with such people: I am beaten to-day; it will be
yours to-morrow: so they laugh at each other, for the
defeat that has been or is to be. Something real is
wanted, then, to give the young peer in masquerade
influence in this, the largest, greatest, highest permanent assembly of his fellow-men, there is in the country. He must be well read in the laws of the past and
the facts of the present. He must not only be more
philosophical than the lawyers, but also mnore practical
than the practical men, or neither will submit to be led
by him. He finds, too, that here, where all men are
equal, certain principles of freedom are held in common. His mind becomes imbued with them. If he
began in play, he ends in earnest. Men fresh from
the factory or the desk are, he finds, as well versed in
affairs as he: nay, some of them almost equal him in
his school-learning and his oratory. There is no patent, no privilege, in talent. If he would be a great




EARtL GREY.                129
mian, he must work, too, —work with the head and
heart. He, too, competes in the noble strife, tasks his
intellect, trains his powers, to rise to the height of
statesmanship and eloquence-to make his personal,
warrant his social, superiority. His heart, too, warms
in the contest; insensibly he becomes more national,
less exclusive. Nay, by the time he enters the exclusive walls, the privileged assembly, he almost wishes
he could dispense with his rights. Acted upon thus by
public feeling in the Lower House, he reacts upon it.
By his exainple of liberalism (not political but social)
he makes them love the aristocratic. And how can
democracy show itself, where the future nobles of the
land are to be found stretching the most free of all free
constitutions almost to its extreme point of tension?
But if the country gains by this system of political
training, it is attended with some disadvantages to the
individual statesman or orator who is thus removed to
the Upper House. Men who have made a great figure in the House of Commons often fail in the House
of Lords. The habits, the tone of thinking, the style
of eloquence, that are adapted to the one do not suit
the other. What wonder if a man, who has laboriously trained himself up to one standard, should be at fault
when suddenly required to adapt himself to another
which is quite different? *Lord Brougham has in this
respect succeeded admirably in effecting his transformation from the commoner into the peer. At first,
he was not sufficiently aware of this necessity of his
new position, and some very strange scenes occurred;
but now he is quite another man. It is not every one,
however, that has the same plasticity of mind: and
hence that very usual question, when a popular leader
becomes elevated to the peerage, ", How will he do in
the Lords?"
Earl Grey has of late been very often made the subject of this question: partly because, by the death of
I




130          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
his celebrated parent, he has been so recently raised
to the Upper House, and partly because it is generally understood that an attempt will be made to elevate
him to the position of leader of the Whigs in the House
of Peers, on the Marquis of Lansdowne hereafter resigning in his favor that sometimes most arduous post.
There is reason to believe, also, that Earl Grey conceives himself to be, as a debater, a match for Lord
Stanley, — in short, a sort of natural antagonist (of
course, in a parliamentary sense) of that distinguished
speaker; so that when causes now existing shall have
ceased to operate, and when Lord Stanley shall have
assumed that position in the House of Lords which, in
a reorganization of parties, will become at once a right
and a sphere of duty, Earl Grey will be enabled to stand
up as the assertor of principles materially differing from
those which Lord Stanley is known to entertain, and
thus once more realize those old ideas of party opposition which recent events have so much tended to postpone, if not to neutralize. If these assumptions be true,
if Lord Lansdowne be really disposed to yield to Earl
Grey the management of what is certainly at the present time the most compactly organized party in the
country, it is a step peculiarly interesting to the people of England, from the great influence which the acknowledged head of a party, whatever may or may
not be his talents, has upon the course of legislation
It becomes important to inquire, Whether the probable
elevation of Earl Grey to this high-priesthood of Whig
principles be justifiable or desirable on the score of his
possession of commanding talents, or superior political
wisdom, or whether it is only a new instance of the
hereditary succession of the Whig families to power
and honors?
There is one other ground on which the promotion
of Lord Grey might be justified: that there is no Whig
in the Upper House with so many claims. Mere rank




EARL GREY.                 131
alone, without oratorical powers, or some commanding
qualities to which deference would instinctively be y ielded, will not in these days justify a man being placed
at the head of a party. The Marquis of Lansdowne's
claims are not founded on his rank alone. Although
his stilted and somewhat pompous style of oratory is
now rather out of date, yet there was aperiod when he
was looked upon as one of the foremost men of his time.
If he has scarcely fulfilled that promise of future excellence which led his cotemporaries to compare Lord
Henry Petty with William Pitt, still his past successes are not forgotten; and he has also that kind of personal weight, derived from his age and political experience, which inspires respect among those who have
grown up around him, and who have for so many years
stood toward him almost in the reiation of pupils.
Setting him for the moment on one side, who is there
to take his place? Lord Melbourne, of course, must
be looked upon as having virtually given up the contest; his name is only associated with an administration
whose political history was, in spite of some good intentions, little more than a series of defeats. The Marquis of Clanricarde, though at times he displays great
vigor and considerable tact, fails to inspire that personal respect which is necessary in a leader. Lord
Normanby, although he has filled high official posts, has
no weight in the House of Peers. The Earl of Clarendon is in every way superior, as a thinker and as a debater;
there is the stamp of sterling talent on all he says and
does. But he is to all appearance either an indolent
or an unambitious man, or his ambition is confined in
its objects; he has done too much to be altogether passed over, yet not enough to secure our admiration, and
induce us to fix on him as even a probable person to
be the future head of his party. With these names,
we have exhausted the list of Whig leaders in the
House of Peers, who in any degree are prominent




132          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
for their talents. The oratorical strength of the Whigs
lies in the House of Commons; nor is it likely that
those who there exercise so much influence over the
public mind would be in any hurry to leave it. Lord
Morpeth will, in the course of things, be obliged to do
so; but wherever there is a choice, it is not probable
that it will lie in the direction of being, as a popular
phrase terms it, ", pitchforked." If, then (Earl Grey's
personal ambition being seconded by the suffrages of
his own party), he shall aim to take and (what would
be more difficult) to keep the lead of the Whigs in the
House of Lords, it is obvious that the difficulties of his
task will be very much diminished by the comparative
mediocrity of those with whom he will be placed in
immediate competition.
With the political mantle of his father, the present
Earl Grey would by no means inherit his responsibilities. The conditions of eminence are not what they
were twenty or thirty years ago. Then, to be a party leader-of the chosen few, at least, whom history
deigns to notice-impled the possession of an absolute
mastery over the elements of political warfare. He
to whom his compeers yielded precedence was distinguishable from them, not merely by his talent but
also by the degree of his talent. There was in him a
marked individuality of character; his intellect was of
such towering proportions, that like the stature of a giant
it was confessed at once; and all men gave way, by an
instinct of deference, to one in whom they recognized
a superior. He had not to work his way to the command by slow and laborious efforts and shifting tactics,
carrying with him the traces and disgraces of many
defeats, of many yieldings, of many compromises, such
as men must suffer who seek to attain the height by
the tortuous path. He took the initiative in government, stamped the impress of his mind upon that of his
countrymen.  He laid down principles — principles




EARL GREY.                 133
which, if they were not the creation or his own mind,
were at least taken at first-hand from the well stored armory of the constitution; and never beased his efforts,
or swerved from the course he had marked out, till he
had brought his fellow-subjects either to acknowledge
them as true, or at all events, to array themselves against
him, and trust the issue to a combat in which he was
himself at the head of his own following, and where
he also secured the glory of the victory. Then, the
political history of an age was written in the movements
of parliamentary leaders: office gave power, and the
real head of a party was at once the medium of its principles, the source of its arguments, and the regulator
of all its minutest movements. There was dignity in
his high station.
Statesmen then were the pupils of statesmen till they
attained their full vigor, till they were politically of
age, and fit to begin the world for themselves. They
had not yet become the full grown puppets of agitators
out of doors-the glittering tools of more hard-handed
and determined men than themselves. Things, and,
to say truth, men also, have changed since them. A
party leader is now an anomaly; the very name itself
a perversion of language. The initiative in legislation
is assumed, not in the cabinet, but in the market-place,
or at the hustings. The loudest voice, the longest
purse, the most self-denying demagogueism, the most
cautious audacity, the most calculating treason-these
are now the qualifications for that mastership of the
nation, which used till recent times to be the certain
property of those men alone who possessed the loftiest
intellect, the most far seeing views, the most prominent
integrity of character, the most determined spirit in asserting and maintaining the principles in the truth of
which they believed, the most commanding or the most
persuasive oratory; who rallied round them the sympathies of their politically hereditary followers, and




134          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
were elevated to power alike by the affection of the
people and the confidence of the crown. Whatever
their politics, they were to be depended upon as men;
if they could not be relied on and followed for their
wisdom, their consistency could be calculated on, and
their principles counteracted.
But it is the perverse practice of party leaders in the
present day-forced on them, perhaps, by an unhappy
necessity of carrying measures by new uses of constitutional powers-to abandon the highest privileges of the
statesman, to destroy the noble and exalted ideal which
history leaves us, and of which even memory recalls
living examples. And this is as true (though, perhaps,
in a modified degree) of the Whig as of the Conservative leaders, of the Lord Melbournes and Lord John
Russells, as of the Sir Robert Peels and the Lord
Lyndhursts. They lead but to mislead. Their principle of political action-the recognition of the pressure from  without-perils the credit of either their
understanding or their character. Each great era of
their political life is divided by an abrupt line of demarkation. Up to a certain day, they oppose with a hypocritical earnestness, or, according to their intellectual
and moral idiosyncrasy, they attack with a bold (almost
a virulent) fierceness, certain principles and opinions
which are before the public, whether in or out of parliament. In the mildest instances, they offer to them
an obstinate obstruction. But from that particular day
they become altered men. With an earnestness
which we are justified in supposing to be equally hypocritical, as being so sudden, they advocate the principles
they before opposed, while all their virulence and
fierceness are reserved for those they have abandoned.
In the milder instances, they yield with an alarming
but a contemptible alacrity. To illustrate the relative
position of statesmen of the old order and of the new,
one has but to compare the course of the late Earl




EARL GREY.                 135
Grey as to the question of parliamentary reform, with
that of Sir Robert Peel as to Roman Catholic emancipation and repeal of the Corn-laws. Putting all partyfeeling on one side, this question is far too important
to the well-being of the country to be much longer disregarded. The PRIDE of public men alone, if political
morality has ceased to influence them, must bring about
a change.
Earl Grey's prospects as a politician, and still more
if he should be the leader of the Whigs in the House
of Lords, will, however, be materially advanced by this
lowering of the standard of parliamentary and political
greatness. Compared with the giants who have passed
away, he is a dwarf in parliamentary ability; but
among the shifting shadows who play before us in the
little sphere marked out of a blank future by the magiclantern of a Cobden or an O'Connell, he assumes something like body and consistency. Nay, he has some
qualities of mind which, if not exactly amiable and admirable in themselves, at least spring from a moral integrity which will not yield to external influences, and,
therefore, indicate his possession of that firmness and
frankness of character which one would desire in
either an enemy or a friend. On one ground the public
may always feel perfectly safe with Earl Grey. However unpopular his opinions may be, either with his
own party or with the great bulk of the nation, he
always fearlessly avows the.m; so that, as far as public
discussion goes (we speak not of cabinet squabbles), you
always know the man with whom you have to deal.
He will not shirk an avowal to-day, when it might
damage him, to make it openly to-morrow, when it
will be profitable. So much for the morality of his
political character; his discretion is another affair.
Perhaps his friankness may sometimes be too self-seeking, bordering on the reckless.
Earl Grey has been denounced as, crotchety," be



136           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
cause, on one or two occasions, he has taken a course
or held an opinion adverse to that of his colleagues.
That on such occasions he has sealed his verbal dissent
by a resignation of his office, has afforded one guaranty of his sincerity. It may fairly be assumed, that a
resistance or an independence which terminates in a
self-chosen political martyrdom (for such is the loss of
office to young ambition), is not mere intractability or
restiveness, but that it springs from some more deeply
rooted sentiment. At all events, it augurs political
disinterestedness, and contrasts favorably with the conduct of those who wheel round suddenly at the word
of command, voting to-day against the creed of yesterday, with a callous indifference or an audacious infidelity.
We rather dwell upon this virtue of Earl Grey, because
he is in want of a good word; in the paucity of his
political attractions he needs every favorable construction that can with any degree of decency be extended to
him. In the cases just referred to, he was charged with
vanity and arrogance. As being comparatively an official
subordinate, it was said that he thought too much of
himself, as though statesmen or public servants of the
second or third degree were not entitled even to lay
claim to a conscience, much less to indulge in the
moral luxury of a life of hypocrisy. But circumstances
alter cases. Earl Gray, as Lord Howick, in the House
of Commons, never seemed to look on himself as a
subordinate, except as some young prince of the blood
might play the ensign or the midshipman. From the
first, he has appeared to have his eye steadily fixed on
some position to which he aspired, and to have trusted to his rank, the gratitude of party, and the force of
his own intellectual energies, as the means of securing
it. He scorned to be an apprentice, but rather regarded himself as one of the master's family, ready to be
taken into the firm when his time came. Whether
this spirit of independence was really arrogance, or




EARL GREY.                137
whether it was a self-reliance, premature only in the
occasion of its exhibition, must be decided by the future
conduct of Earl Grey, when his responsibilities shall
have been increased; and criticism will be guided, not
by the little jealousies of party, but by the observation and the good sense of the public.
Earl Grey can never take the highest rank as an
orator. An effective speaker, and a ready, practiced
debater, he already is; but he wants those personal
attributes which are so essential in completing the
full charm of eloquence, that there is scarcely an instance on record of a man becoming a first-rate orator
without them. Yet it would not seem that there is
any necessary connection between the personal peculiarities, whether favorable or unfavorable, of a speaker,
and the intellect, the imagination, or the passions of
his audience. One would suppose that mind would
address itself at once to mind, that the kindred spirit
would communicate with no direct dependence on the
physical medium. Indeed there is not any positive
proof on record that physical defects, whether of voice,
of person, or of aspect, have neutralized the effect of
eloquence when the spirit that kindles it was really
within a man-deep-seated in the soul.  The intellectual pride of man would rather favor the opposite
view, seeking to establish the dominant power of the
intellect, and making the body a merely secondary and
subservient vehicle. But the fact is, that you seldom
see a man even aspiring to eminence as a speaker,
much less succeeding, unless he has been in some
degree befriended by Nature, either in the gift of an
harmonious or sonorous voice, or an imposing, or at
least not unattractive countenance, and a tolerably well
formed person. It may be that an instinct guides such
men to their more natural vocation, or that the predilection created by their personal advantages in a first
attempt nerves them to others, and so on till they attain




138           ORATORS OF THIE AGE.
to that degree of excellence which would enable them
to charm, even were they suddenly deprived of those
advantages. In the case of Earl Grey, the want of a
prepossessing exterior and of a flexible, harmonious
voice very materially detracts from his effectiveness as
a speaker, and precludes the hope of his attaining the
first rank among cotemporary orators, however great
may be his intellectual superiority over many of them.
All references to personal defects are invidious, and
should certainly be as slight as possible. They might,
in this case, be passed over almost entirely, but that it
is desirable to correct one impression which party
feeling has circulated in the public mind, that Lord
Grey is an ill-tempered man. That he looks morose,
even at times ill-tempered, can not be denied; but the
tone and temper of his speeches, and his general conduct as a member of parliament, belie the assumption
that this expression is any thing else than a settled
form taken by his features, not from mental but from
purely physical causes. We think we could point
to one or two noble lords, and more than one or two
honorable gentlemen, who are infinitely more irritable,
morose, jaundiced with apparent disappointment, than
Earl Grey, only that Nature has given them a mask to
conceal their thoughts, more perfect in its proportions
and more deceitful in its expression.
But in spite of the load of adverse circumstances
against which Earl Grey has to bear up,-notwithstanding his harsh, shrill, discordant voice, his unexpressive
countenance, and features so far removed from the
standard of manly beauty, he has proved himself no ineffective antagonist of the chief speakers of the day. His
intellectual powers, aided by very extensive knowledge
of the most varied kind, which he can bring to bear
alike upon abstract questions of policy or the most
minute affairs of daily legislation, have carried himt
through the natural difficulties of his position. When




EARL GREY.                 139
he left the House of Commons he had worked himself
up, by his talents alone, to a position among the Whig
speakers scarcely inferior to that of Lord Palmerston,
and decidedly above that held by many others who
started with him in the race. If he had not yet arrived at that point in parliamentary importance when a
member is, as a matter of course,,, expected" to speak
-when the debate is not considered complete till he
has contributed his share to the general stock of argunment or illustration-at least he seldom or never rose
but to cast a new light on the subject, to throw down
the gauntlet of opinion, to give a new and unexpected
turn to the debate, or, at all events, to compel speakers
who succeeded him to notice his views. With a very
analytical mind (in this respect he stands out in favorable contrast with his cotemporaries), he was remarkably skillful in hunting out and exposing a fallacy, quite
remorseless in controverting any proposition or opinion
contrary to those principles of constitutional government or political economy which he holds, partly by
hereditary descent, and partly by his own firee adoption.
In this pursuit he seemed to feel a keen intellectual
pleasure, as though he spoke not merely as a duty to party, but also as a personal satisfaction to himself. His
views were always clear and defined, from his having
laid down in his own mind certain principles as what
ought to be the basis of public polity, up to which he
reasoned. His public course appears to have been uniformly guided by his sincere convictions, whether right
or wrong; not, as in the case of some of his colleagues,
by the desire to obtain popularity. If any thing, he is
disposed to push the doctrines of the political economists
too far-to take human nature too little into account.
Forced to depend for influence as a speaker, not on
his personal but his mental powers, one consequence
is, that the reasoning faculty too much predominates.
A demonstration is all-sufficient with him. No allow



140          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
ance is made for the wants or the weaknesses of human nature; for temporary detracting causes; for
those infirmities of our race which make the perfect
practical application of abstract propositions, however
true they may be, a great difficulty, if not an impossibility. He takes existing facts too little into account. That which is to politicians generally a most
important element, scarcely enters into Earl Grey's
calculations. With him, whatever ought to be, must
be. He is altogether too confident, not so much in
himself, as in the all-sufficiency of reason to decide
on any case that may be subjected to it. He does not
seem to be conscious of that higher wisdom which is,
in most respects, above the ken of the mere reasoning
faculty, being founded upon experience and strengthened by humility, till it becomes a kind of intellectual
faith. He has none of the philosophy of Edmund
Burke. He lays down excellent principles, but, unlike
Lord John Russell, at inconvenient times. It is his
fault to be too fond of argument; nay, of what a popular
expression terms, not unhappily, - argufying." At
times this habit degenerates into mere captiousness.
Like Lord Denman, he will fix with earnestness and
intensity on some minor point, which he will elevate
into undue importance, but which a more enlarged
mind would pass over as being among the necessary
conditions of a proposition, to be admitted without
question. On the other hand, this disposition to cavil
and dispute, to rest great questions upon trifling points,
this microscopic view of constitutional principles, often
becomes of great public value when the rights of the
subject are concerned, at a period when a general confidence in the integrity and public spirit of public men
leads us to acquiesce in a relaxation of those safeguards
of liberty which our more suspicious ancestors watched in a spirit of obstinate obstruction.
With such peculiarities of person, of temperament,




EARL GREY.                141
and of intellectual bias, it is not probable that Earl
Grey will be able to take the lead of the Whig party
in the House of Peers. He wants dignity, both personally and mentally. The very qualities which made
him useful as a subordinate, or as a colleague in the
House of Commons, would unfit him for a position of
command or responsibility in the Upper House. The
political philosophy which prevails among the peers is
very different from that chance-medley which is the
natural result of popular election in the other place. A
species of free-masonary is established there. They
can afford better to dispense with popular fallacies.
Much more is taken for granted than in the House of
Commons; and a man like Earl Grey would be apt
to find his weapons get rusty for want of use, unless,
indeed, he were to keep them in play by demolishing
the select few whose garrulity is recognized and kept
up for the general amusement. His powers of argumentation would be almost thrown away upon such
men as Lord Lyndhurst, or even Lord Brougham; and
the principles which he used to lay down with so much
authority, and so little fear of contradiction, in the
House of Commons, would stand but a poor chance
with the Duke of Wellington on one hand, or the Bishops of London or of Exeter on the other. He will find
the straw-splitting system of little use in the House of
Lords. If he is permanently to take his place among
the chief men in that assembly, he must altogether elevate his tone, enlarge his views, purge his intellectual
prejudices, consolidate his principles. He must exhibit
less of speculative democracy, less of the tyranny of
the political economist, less devotion to theory, more
amenity to the practical necessities of a compromising
age. Above all, he must not expect from the House
of Lords that consideration he received from the House
of Commons, as the son of the man who carried the
Reform-bill.




SIR JAMES GRAHAM.
WHATEVER may be suggested to the contiary by
personal or political antipathy, it will be very generally admitted by men of all parties, who are conversant
with the subject, that Sir James Graham stands next
to Sir Robert Peel and Lord John Russell in the degree of influence he exercises over the debates in the
House of Commons. It is not as an orator, more than
respectable though his pretensions be, that he ranks
thus high: for there are many, even among his inferiors as statesmen, who in eloquence far transcend
him. Nor is it because he has, in the course of his
long and checkered career, developed those higher
qualities, either of character or of intellect, which lead
men in the aggregate to wait upon the judgment of
the individual, yielding themselves to his guidance;
for the public life of Sir James Graham has been singularly unpropitious to the accomplishment of that
glorious distinction. Nor is it that his reputation has
grown with the growth or identified itself with the
successes of any great national party, whose gratitude
would have given him a following, and that following
an audience prepossessed in his favor; for there is
scarcely a public man of the day who has been so
deeply and irrecoverably inconstant to political alliances,
or the virulence of whose temporary opposition may
with more precision be gauged by the fervency of his
former support. On none of the received grounds, in
fact, can his influence-popularity it can not be called




SIR JAMES GRAHiAM.            143
-with the House of Commons be accounted for. Such
as it is, it depends on himself alone. It is anomalous,
like his position.
The solitary, self-created, almost undisputed sway
wielded by Sir Robert Peel, one can understand. He
has been the foremost man of his time. Always the
leader of, even in adversity, the most powerful party
of his countrymen, he has never, except, perhaps, in
the single instance of the Reform question, run counter to the feelings of the nation. There are principles and sentiments which, even in the hour of the
uttermost estrangement, he held in common with his
opponents; there was always some neutral ground for
reconciliation.  If events proved that his advocacy
could not always have been sincere, no one could
point to habitual virulence and acrimony assumed to
give the color of earnestness. He soothed, flattered,
cajoled, played off parties and opinions against each
other with delicate finesse, but never directly outraged
deep-rooted prejudices or long established opinions.
And so, indeed, it is with him in the present hour.
While ruling his political cotemporaries with a power
so absolute as to be almost without parallel in representative assemblies, and, at the same time, so well
masked as to require all the envenomed ingenuity of
a disappointed partisan ere it could be discovered, much
less believed in, Sir Robert Peel has contrived to avoid
exhibiting most of the harsher symbols of.his sway.
His despotism has not been obtrusive, or his tyranny
odious. He has made men enslave each other, without himself standing forth as the confessed cause of
the general degradation. If he has no natural or personal followers, so also he has no organized opponents,
-at least, their organization melts away at his approach: they are valiant only behind his back.
The more genial, mild, and natural influence of
Lord John Russell with his followers is also to be




144           ORATORS OF T'rE AGE.
accounted for; nor is it at all surprising that he
should be a favorite as a speaker with the House
generally.  Of the Whig party, first the protege, then
the pupil, and now the'leader, he has always been
the firm and consistent supporter. Of one side of the
House he possesses the favor by every right of political service; and party is not slow to be grateful, however wanting it may be in other political virtues. To
his opponents and the House generally he has always
exhibited a deference and respectful consideration,
which, if it sprung from policy, was wise in the extreme, for it has secured a degree of prepossession on
personal grounds which is not enjoyed even by Sir
Robert Peel himself, and often acts as a counterbalancing make-weight for mental and physical short-comings in his oratory.
Sir James Graham's influence in the representative
branch of the legislature is not to be attributed to any
of the causes which have secured its favors for these
two distinguished men. Like Sir Robert Peel, he
has constantly been in antagonism with parties and
opinions to which he has at some other time, before
or since, given his most hearty support. But his
changes of opinion and of policy have been made
under very different circumstances, and the tone and
character of his advocacy and opposition have been of
a very different nature. Sir Robert Peel's first great
act of inconsistency, however it may have exasperated
his followers at the time, still bore the stamp of statesmanship; inasmuch as it was the application of a
great, and, in some respects, a desperate remedy to a
state of things, to which the history of the constitution afforded no parallel. It carried with it, also, to
most minds the justification of an overpowering necessity. His subsequent deviations from the line of
policy professed by him in early life, and while still
the leader of the old Tory party, have, in like manner,




SIR JAMES GRAIIAM.           145
been to a great extent the result of circumstances
which he could not control. Many compromises of
principle are forgiven in the regenerator of a great
party. And Sir Robert Peel, too, has always kept his
motives so free from suspicion. His ambition is, at
least, of an ennobling and exalting character. He has
never been the mere partisan, or allowed politics to
become a passion with him, but has preserved his dignity amid all the heats of party strife. Personal motives are seldom assigned to him when he sees fit to
change his policy. I-Ie has preserved in an eminent
degree the respect both of parliament and the public.
Not so Sir James Graham. He has not, amid his
many changes of opinion and party, preserved the
same high character, the same freedom from the imputation of partisanship, the same presumption of
stainless motive, that have upheld Sir Robert Peel,
and retained for him the personal favor of the House
of Commons, even in the most critical and dangerous periods of his fortunes. Still less has he observed
that steady devotion to early received and professed
opinions, that tolerant and liberal appreciation bf
the principles and views of opponents, that gently
repulsive retirement from stage to stage of party
defense in the face of the advancing enemy, which,
together with many personal qualities of an amiable
character, have secured for Lord John Russell so
much of the regard of foes as well as of friends. Sir
James Graham has acted on wholly opposite tactics.
There has been more (so to speak) of brigandage,
more of the loose policy of the Free Lance, in his political life. His attacks have always been fierce and
virulent in inverse proportion to what has proved to
be the depth of his convictions, and to the apparent
necessity of the case; his defenses have always been
distinguished by a blind and passionate obstinacy; his
compromises and abandonments of professed opinions
K




146          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
have always been sudden. Thlese are great defects
of character in the eyes of Englishmen, and they react
upon Sir James Graham, and lessen his consequence
as a statesman, to this hour, in-spite of his commanding talents and great position.
Sir James Graham has made enemies of almost
every party in the legislature. It has not been because he has opposed them from time to time, for
other men who are much more popular have for many
years done so more effectually; but it has been on
account of the extreme virulence of his opposition.
His fighting has always been a l'outrance. He has been
too prone to disdain the courtesies of political warfare;
fictions though they be, yet agreeable ones and -humanizing. He has always appeared to import his passions into party conflicts, as though he were not
merely fighting the battle of opinions, but also maintaining his own personal quarrel. And yet he has never
succeeded in impressing one with the idea of his being in
earnest. That would have rendered pardonable, language otherwise too severe. His harangues while in
opposition, and indeed all his party speeches, rather
seem the elaborate efforts of one having little real
sympathy with the themes he is discussing or the
views he is urging, but who has worked himself up to
a state of fictitious enthusiasm or moral indignation, in
order the more effectually to gratify political vindictiveness, or advance personal ambition, by obtaining
the applause of audiences willing to be misled under
cover of those high-sounding pretenses. But, whether
simulated or real, some of the speeches here more
particularly referred to - and to which, it must be
added, no one could listen without being struck with
admiration at their boldness; skill, and sustained energy-were scarcely reconcilable with that liberal and
charitable interpretation of the motives of opponents,
which is one of the first duties of public men to each




SIR JAMES GRAHAM.             147
other. Nor has Sir James Graham, while conducting
his combats in this spirit, been at all choice in the
weapons he used. Any missive that came to hand
was hurled indiscriminately at the foe. No epithet,
however heavy its imputation (always, of course,
saving that it is parliamentary); no taunt, however
bitter or exasperating, whether to individuals, to parties,
to opinions, or even to whole nations; no general charge,
however grave as against the policy of a party, or however damnatory of the motives of his opponents in
their councils or their conduct; and, finally, no manceuver that could by any stretch of license be accounted not inconsistent with parliamentary honor, even to
the extent of partial statements of opponents' opinions,
or partial quotations or withholdings of justificatory
matter; not one such expedient, however little to be
approved in fair and free public discussion, by which
a temporary triumph could be won, or a rival for the
hour put down, was ever rejected by Sir James Graham from any delicacy of temperament, or from any
high and fastidious sense of honor, such as restrains
some men from grasping the victory which is theirs on
such conditions; or even from that constitutional love
of fair play and open, stand-up fighting Which is the
Englishman's boast, and which is covertly the guiding
principle in all the debates in parliament.
It will be observed that blame is imputed to Sir
James Graham, not merely because in the course of a
long and very stormy political life he has changed his
opinions. Men have always been held at liberty to do
that; and of late it is becoming quite a fashion. It is
on account of the extreme virulence and unscrupulousness with which he has from time to time advocated the opinion or the party object of the hour, and
the suddenness with which he has changed those
opinions and objects, that he has failed to secure his
fair share of the respect of his cotemporaries, at least




148           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
for more than his great talent. A very cursory glance
at his speeches will fully confirm the view here put
forward. Look at his earlier political career, when,
as, the Cumberland Baronet," he frighted the isle
from its propriety by the violent and unconstitutional
tendency of his writings and speeches. Who could
have suspected that a man whose sentiments breathed
so much of the very spirit of license would, in comparatively few years, stand before the world one of the
favored leaders of the party he was then denouncing
so violently, and as the most arbitrary Home-secretary
the country had known for many years? Again, his
attacks upon the landed interest in the earlier part of
his career were so harsh and virulent, that one can
scarcely believe, though the fact stares one in the
face, that the same man has been, for twelve or fourteen years, one of the chief counselors and leaders of
those whom he then treated as the pests and enemies of their country. Furthermore, let us look at
the zealous partisanship with which, when he was a
member of the Whig government, he attacked on the
one hand the Radicals, of whom, at least in opinion,
he might once have been accounted a leader; and on
the other the Conservatives, in whose ranks he was so
soon to hold one of the most distinguished posts. Nor
can it be forgotten how, when in power as a Conservative minister, he stood out in marked relief from his
colleagues, in the virulence of his attacks on those
with whom he had so lately held office, and toward
whom he at least, and Lord Stanley, should have
been restrained in resorting to the more envenomed
hostilities of party. It can not be attributing too much
importance to the effects of this constant antagonism on
his part to the convictions or the self-love of his cotemporaries, when we say that they detract very materially from the estimation in which he is held, and preclude the possibility of his being popular in the House




SIR JAMES GRAIlAM.             149
of Commons, however much his eloquence, his debat.
ing powers, or his extraordinary aptitude for business,
may cause him to be admired, and render him valuable as a minister and a statesman.
It has been in the face of all the-se self-created obstacles, in spite of drawbacks and disadvantages which
would have long since consigned an ordinary man to
oblivion, that Sir James Graham, after having deserted
his post in the van of one party-the party with whom
his early political life was spent, and to whom he was
indebted for his position-has forced his way to the
very leadership of another; of a party distinguished
for the possession of talent legitimately occupying its
ranks, and not at all dependent upon chance recruits
for the figure it makes before the country. Without
a following, after having violently discarded the political friendships of his youth and manhood, and in spite
of an habitual, almost a studied avoidance of all the
ordinary arts of popularity, which at times has almost
gone the length of courting public odium, we find Sir
James Graham the right-hand and confidential counselor of the most powerful minister this country had
known since Pitt; the absolute dictator of all the
internal administration, and of much of the internal
policy; and the originator, or at all events the arbiter,
of the internal legislation, of this great kingdom. More
than of any other living statesman, it may be said of
him, that he has made his own position. It was probably the object of his early ambition; yet, if we look
at his career, how unpropitious was its commencement for such a close!  So much the more merit,
then, in an intellectual point of view, is due to him
who could thus compel circumstances to his purposes.
It is to his talents alone that he is indebted for the
high posts he has held, and the distinguished position
he enjoys among his cotemporaries. He has literally
fought his way up; and a hard fight he has had. If




150          ORAT3)RS OF THE AGE.
he has multiplied the natural obstacles of such a career, so much the greater is the talent and the determination of purpose by which they have been overcome. What Mr. Macaulay has won by his eloquence
and capacity for statesmanship, Sir James Graham
has attained by the same spirit of self-dependence,
working out its mission in the more active and stormy
scenes of political excitement, by more bold and dangerous ventures, and more skillful and daring pilotage.
Sir James Graham has always been equal to his
position. Various as have been the parts he has
played in the political drama of his time, he has always
glided naturally into them, and distinguished himself
as one of the first actors, rising naturally to the top.
HEis speeches from time to time afforded an accurate
barometer of his political position. On whichever side
of politics they were made, they have always been
marked by great aptitude, readiness, tact, vigor, and
power. Except Lord Brougham and O'Connell, he
has been, perhaps, the most actively militant orator of
his day. When he is down, he attacks those who are
uppermost; when he is in power, he wages perpetual
war with those who are out. Whether attacking institutions or defending them, however, he has shown
equal ability and determination to conquer at all hazards. When he was a Radical, or at least so very
ultra a Whig that the steady ones of' the party were
almost ashamed, or at least afraid of him, he was so
thoroughly uncompromising in his denunciations, that
Mr. Duncombe, whom he nightly strove to extinguish
with all the awful terrors of law and order, would have
been by his side but a mere wretched shadow of a
demagogue. In fact, we have no such Radicals now
as Sir James was then. They are all fat, jocular
Inen, growing wealthy upon coronerships, and suchlike abominations; or blase dandies in search of an
excitement. Some of the speeches of Sir James Gra



SIR JAMES GRAHAM.              151
ham, whether in parliament, at the hustings, or at
public meetings, at the time referred to, would in the
present day be accounted almost too bold for the most
determined aspirant for the honors of political martyrdom. For they were unredeemed by the philosophy
of liberalism; they had not even the dignity and tone
of Chartism. They were simple, unadulterated, partisan speeches, made to serve a purpose, and forgotten
by the speaker as soon as uttered. But about their
talent there was no mistake. It was not that-they
were distinguished for high eloquence, but for power
and downright hard hitting. They gave the speaker
a claim on the rising party of the time; and in a few
years the quasi-demagogue shot up into a minister.
And a capital minister he made. His most determined enemies do not deny this. Whatever may be
thought of Sir James Graham as a politician, no one
hesitates to admit that he is one of the best administrative officers this country has for many years produced.
The same talent, the tact and aptitude, which had made
him so clever an assailant of the former government,
rendered him immediately fit for office. He was here,
as before, equal to his position. As a speaker on behalf of the government, too, he proved himself a most
valuable ally,-turning the flank of his quondam Radical associates with provoking skill and unerring precision. But the prior claims of those who were already
designated as the successors to the chief posts in the
Whig party still kept Sir James in the background, and
forbade the hope of his taking that distinguished position for which his talents and ambition alike indicated
him. The reorganization of the party at that time,
and their adoption of a policy of dangerous progress,
afforded an opportunity for a change; and accordingly,
very soon after, we find Sir James Graham (after a
short time spent in a chrysalis state) a full-blown Conservative. Here, again, he was fully equal to his posi



152          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
tion; and as it was during the long and glorious struggle of the Conservative opposition, headed by Sir
Robert Peel, Lord Stanley, and Sir James Graham,
that the latter made his best speeches, a better olpportunity can not be taken to treat of his peculiarities as
an orator-which was the part he then laid himself out
to fill-before attempting to describe him as home secretary, in his character of repressor-general of the insubordinates in the House of Commons, or ", crusher"in-chief to the ministry.
The Conservative speeches of Sir James Graham,
made when fighting side by side with Sir Robert Peel
and Lord Stanley against the Whigs, were admirable
specimens of what may be done by highly cultivated
powers, extensive acquaintance with the best models
of eloquence, persevering care, and elaborate preparation, without oratorical genius, or that earnestness and
sincerity of purpose which will often advantageously
supply its place. Assuming them to have been deliberately got up to serve a certain purpose, it would be
impossible to withhold admiration from the power, tact,
and aptitude, with which the means were made subservient to the end. Upon the supposition that the
speaker was really sincere, it was difficult to account
for the absence, even in the most solemn appeals to
the religious feelings of the auditory, or to their cherished constitutional prepossessions, of those touches of
deep feeling which are the utterances of the soul, not
the promptings of art, and which act like a talisman
upon the sympathies. The speeches referred toweore,
many of them, superior as compositions to those of Sir
Robert Peel or Lord Stanley, containing more of tjhe
great argument on which the whole movement of tine
Conservative party was based: for, although Sir James
Graham evinces so little readiness to bend his will to
those around him, he shows an almost chameleon-like
power of reflecting their sympathies, opinions, or prej



SIR JAMES GRAHAM.             153
udices. They were in this respect admirable manuals
for the party, and no doubt did good service in the
country. But the impetuous eloquence of Lord Stanley, and the admirable persuasive art of Sir Robert
Peel, enabled them to achieve more, with materials
which, in justice to Sir James Graham, we must admit
were not superior to those which are to be found in
his speeches of that period. What detracted from the
effect of the declamatory passages was a somewhat
pompous and stilted tone, a too evident affectation of
solemnity and earnestness; which might have been
partly natural, arising from physical causes, and therefore not fairly the object of criticism, though materially
marring the effect of the speeches. But allowing for
all these defects, they were yet remarkable efforts of
oratorical skill, which raised Sir James to a level witk
the best speakers in the House of Commons. The
exofdiums and perorations always bore marks of the
most careful preparation, and were usually models of
fine composition; the quotations were most apt, and
often from recondite sources; the poetical passages
delivered with a fine emphasis and full appreciation of
the rhythm. As a debater, rising at a late hour, perhaps, to reply suddenly to the arguments of a previous
speaker or speakers, where the novelty of the topics
precludes all preparation, and the real powers of the
orator are therefore tried to the utmost, Sir James
showed himself the possessor of the very highest order
of talent,-in readiness of argument, retentiveness of
memory, suddenness of quotation, quickness of retort,
in invective, sarcasm, repartee, declamation, he was
seldom or never at fault, and was always the antagonist
most dreaded by the Whigs. Perhaps one reason for
this might be the virulence of tone, and unscrupulousness in the use of weapons, of which mention has already been made, as one of the chief faults of Sir James
Graham.




154          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
But all these successes as a politician, and all these
triumphs as a speaker, will not account for or justify
the assertion with which these observations commenced
— that Sir James Graham's influence over the House
of Commons is only second to that of Sir R. Peel or
Lord John Russell. For influence he does possess,
although, in the face of all that has been here said to
his disadvantage, it is most difficult to trace it to its
source, seeing that there is no man in the House who
appears less to court popular favor than Sir James
Graham. Looking back at his career while joint leader of the Conservative opposition, it was certainly then
impossible to predict that he would develop into the
sort of character he has exhibited as minister and home
secretary. Prominent as his position then was, he
was rather the servitor of party than otherwise: he
never assumed to take the lead. Still less would you
have supposed that he would have had the boldness to
flout the House as he has since done; or so ostentatiously to defy the sovereign people through their representatives. All honor to him for his courage, though
it might have been exercised in a better cause. It is
because Sir James Graham affects, or really feels, an
indifference to the good opinion of the House, that they
submit so spaniel-like to his caprices or his studied
coldness and indifference, and pay so much attention,
often so much deference, to his opinion.
A hardness and impassibility of temperament, which
is to censure or obloquy as adamant or rhinoceros-hide,
joined to a wonderful knowledge of human nature,
great talents, clear perception, readiness, determination of purpose, and a steady resolution to seize all opportunities and yield none, give him great advantage in
an assembly where the average of ability is not above
mediocrity, and where there are so few who have the
courage or feel the inclination to stand forth as champions. With the exception of Mr. Duncombe, Mr.




SIR JAMES GRAHAM.              155
Ferrand, and Mr. Wakley, the members generally
bent before his consistent will and determination of
purpose as home secretary; qualities which, in such
a place, are almost tantamount to a strong or superior
mind. If they would say the truth, they are not a
little afraid of him. At the same time, it must not be
forgotten that such a man as Sir James is in these
times particularly useful. Utilitarianism, on which are
grafted some of the colder and harsher doctrines of
political economy, has become the political religion of
our public men. Centralization, with its train of paralyzing evils, has become the fashionable machinery of
government. The farther the ear and eye are removed
fiom the actual scene, the less chance there is of the
evil being seen or the complaint heard. The selfishness of classes needs excuses. It thinks to hide its
naked hideousness in systems. Weaker natures fear
to lay down, still more to carry out, principles, which
this selfishness would fain see adopted. A firmer
spirit, which, perhaps because it has faith in such
principles, asserts them broadly, and maintains them
intact, through good and evil report, becomes a powerful and valuable ally. A Sir James Graham will be
clung to, in an instinctive deference for his vigor of
mind and boldness of purpose. Such a man serves, to
rule. Less remote causes of his influence may, however, be found; causes on the surface, quite sufficient
in the present state of things to account for his contradicting all the usual calculations on which ministerial
popularity is based.
We are still considering him in his capacity as a
minister. His demeanor in the House is a study.
As he enters below the bar, his red dispatch-box in
hand, his figure towers above most of the members,
notwithstanding that of late years he has contracted
a slight stoop. Extreme hauteur, tempered by a halfsarcastic superciliousness, is his prevailing character



156          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
istic; and, as he slowly drags along his tail and massive frame, which still retains much of the fine proportion of youth, in his heavy, measured, almost
slipshod tread, toward his seat at the right of the
Speaker's table, there is a self-satisfied, almost inane
expression of the countenance, produced by a peculiar
fall of the nether lip and a distorted elevation of the
eyebrows, that does not by any means prepossess you
in his favor, or suggest any high idea of his intellect.
He rather looks like some red-tape minister of the
Tadpole school, or some pompous placeman, conceited of his acres. But by and by you learn to separate the
more fixed habit of the features from this odd expression of the countenance, till you see that the superciliousness is real, though exaggerated by the physical
peculiarity. There are no traces of ill-nature in the
face; but, on the other hand, there is nothing to encourage. Meanwhile, he has seated himself, placed
his red box on the table before him, stretched himself
out to his full length, and awaits, with arms folded and
hat slouched over his face, the questioning to which he
knows he will be subjected at this particular hour,
from half-past four to half-past -five. He is not left
long in his moody silence. Some one has put a question to him. It is Mr. Duncombe, who, if one is to
judge by the malicious twinkle in his eye and his affected tone of moral indignation, has got hold of some
grievance-some letter-opening delinquency, or some
case of magisterial cruelty and Home-Office indifference, with which he has worked upon the members
who do the ", British-public" part in these little political dramas, for they are crying ", hear, hear!" with a
forty-John-Bull power.  Does the home secretary
start up to answer? Is he indignant at the insinuations thrown out by his smart and ready antagonist?
Does he burn to relieve himself of the odium of having
sanctioned a system of espionage, or of having neglect



SIR JAMES GLrBA.RM.           157
ed to redress some wrong-as he, the poor man's exofficio trustee, is bound to do?  Oh, no! he is in no
hurry. The breath of the questioner has full time to
cool, and the voice of moral indignation to abate its en-.
ergy, ere he stirs. Then he uncoils himself, rising
slowly to his full height, and confronting his antagonist
with a well assumed consciousness of the extreme absurdity of his question, and the absolute impregnability
of the defense, if, indeed, he shall condescend to
make any answer at all; for you are left in doubt a
moment, whether he will not allow his assumed surprise to dwindle into a contemptuous laugh, and so sit
down again. However, such things not being allowed
by the sovereign people, and as ministers, however
despotically disposed, must answer questions, the next
thing to be accomplished is to give as homeopathic
a dose of information as possible, conveyed in the
largest possible amount of indifference, cool, quizzing,
and wholesome parliamentary contempt. There are
stereotyped forms. The initiated know almost the
words. The cool, phlegmatic, impassible style is, of
course, peculiar to the particular minister of whom we
speak. His idea of the functions of his office seems
to be, that he is to exercise the utmost possible power
with the least possible accountability. He is to know
nothing, see nothing, do nothing, but what he is absolutely compelled to know, see, or do. - If the enemy
can ferret out a fact and prove it, so much the better
for his case.  Then, perhaps, it may be admitted.
But the usual course is for Sir James, in his low, monotonous voice, and steady, determined manner, to
give an elaborate, formal statement of words, with as
few facts as possible, and leaving the matter as nearly
as possible where he found it. This course has its
advantage; for the questions put are often unmeaning,
and even detrimental to the public service. Sometimnes, however, matters grow more serious. The




158          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
cool, hard, impassible functionary is compelled by a
sense of duty to make a more elaborate statement, and
then it is you perceive his superiority as a minister.
The clearness, firmness, extent of information and
sound knowledge of his duty, he displays, show him
to be not deficient, either in act or in explanation,
when he thinks it necessary. His questioner is then
put hors de combat, and he himself gets a sort of
license for that superciliousness and apathetic indifference to popular censure, which are so fatally urged
to his prejudice. In still more dubious cases, as, for
instance, in that of Mazzini, Sir James Graham has
carried this impassibility and indifference to an insulting extent. If he believed himself right, of course he
showed great moral courage; but moral courage in a
bad cause is scarcely distinguishable from obstinacy;
and Sir James Graham's conduct in that case laid him
open to great obloquy, much of which was deserved.
Yet the determination he showed under such circumstances rather increased than diminished his influence with the House. If it made him, politically
speaking, hated by many, it also made him feared.
Such steady self-possession, joined to such talents and
information, and to such debating powers as he has in
his former career displayed, though now he rarely
exercises them, are quite sufficient to account for
that influence which we have ascribed to him, in the
absence of personal respect, which, generally speaking, he does not command; or of party gratitude,
which he has done little to deserve on the one hand,
and so much to forfeit on the other.




LORD MORPETH.
LORD MORPETH'S position as a public man must be
peculiarly gratifying to his personal feelings. His
ambition ought to be more than satisfied with the
rank he holds as an orator in the House of Commons,
while the personal esteem and respect entertained for
him by his own party afford to a man of his peculiar temperament a far more agreeable reward than even the
admiration which his displays of intellectual ability
have elicited. In the hardness engendered by party
strife, it is rare to find personal qualities so much regarded in a public man as they are in the case of
Lord Morpeth; and still more so where the individual has entered, as the noble lord has done, with
keenness, and as much heat as his nature will allow, into
almost all the conflicts of the time. The circumstances attending his retirement some few years ago from
public life, and those which have characterized his return, have contributed still further to invest him with
a personal, more than even a political ihterest. When
he was ejected from Yorkshire on the final downfall
of the Whig party, and when he made that somewhat rash resolution never to reenter the House of
Commons unless as representative of the same county, few men could have supposed, in the then triumphant state of the Conservative party, that circumstances would have arisen so soon to restore him to
the post he had before held, or to take away from the




16 t0        ORATORS OF TIHE AGE.
rashness of that vow by accomplishing its fulfillment.
That a man evidently so ambitious of distinction as a
statesman and an orator, should have voluntarily debarred himself from his greatest enjoyment on what
might seem so sentimental a ground, is at the same
time in itself a strong proof of some very decided personal character, some qualities of the heart as well as
of the mind, distinguishing him from those who prove
the difference by their astonishment, or by their depreciation of what might seem such Quixotic conduct.
But Lord Morpeth almost stands alone in this privilege
of exciting personal regard, while he at the same time
secures political esteem. It is a regard felt by those
even who in politics differ most widely from him;
who, in fact, were disposed to look at his former coquetings with democracy as involving a most dangerous example. This involuntary blending of the personal with the political character, when accompanied
by intellectual claims, and not carried to excess, is very
agreeable to the English people, who love to see men
sincere and in earnest, even if against them, and who
can not be brought to understand that cold abstraction
of character by which the man removes himself from
the direct agency of human sympathies, living in the
intellect and the reason alone, a mere intelligent machine for working out propositions. State-craft, to
their apprehension, is nothing but downright hypocrisy; and no state necessity excuses, in their eyes,
double-faced policy or tergiversation of principle. A
great proportion of Lord Morpeth's popularity with all
sections of the Liberal party is to be traced to his instinctive, unfailing honesty of purpose. He might be
sometimes personally ridiculed, or oratorically he
might absurdly illustrate that vaulting ambition which
o'erleaps itself, but he was always morally respectable.
Lord Morpeth contrasts favorably with other Whig
noblemen in either House of Parliament, in being, to




LORD MORPETH.                161
all appearance, wholly free from the pride of rank or
class. In the assertion of those views and principles
which are popular with the middle and lower classes,
he has gone farther than any of his colleagues; and
his evident sincerity of disposition compels us to believe that he feels all he utters. He not only entertains popular opinions, but, what is infinitely more captivating with the multitude, he expresses them popularly. There is a frankness, a warmth, a courtesy,
unaccompanied by insulting condescension, that attaches to him men of all shades of opinion. In this
respect' the young nobleman who most resembles him
is Lord John Manners. Starting from wholly opposite points in the political arena, their course-seems
to run together thus far: that they think the time is
come for social, more than for political, concession on
the part of men of rank and station, to those who, in
the singular changes this age has seen, have secured
to themselves so much of the real power of the country.
As a politician, Lord Morpeth has already run nearly to the full length of the tether allowed by the principles of his party; as an orator, he is still in process
of development. The Lord Morpeth returned to Parliament in 1846 was such tn improvement on the Lord
Morpeth who was ejected in 1841, that still greater
advances toward perfection may be hoped for. Whether the grafts which the vigorous native stock has received from republicanism in the United States, and
from class self-seeking in the Anti-Corn-law League,
will bring with them strength or weakness, can not at
present be ascertained; but there is a good, sound root
and stem of John Bullism in the noble lord's mind, on
which one may place great faith. At present, he
seems to be rather feeling his own strength; playing
with his new-found muscle and sinew; trying experiments with edged tools, of the real danger of which
he is not yet fully cognizant. His speeches are as yet
L




162          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
powerful efforts, rather than finished works of oratorlcal art. It is the peculiarity of some men always to
be thought young, or at least immature. A privilege
in private life, this is in the political world rather a disadvantage. Who ever thinks of Lord Morpeth or Mr
Disraeli as steady, staid, middle-aged men-the one
of forty, the other of forty-four? Of the readers of
Lord Morpeth's speeches, who regard him as a sort
of parliamentary pupil of Lord John Russell, but few
reflect that he has been in the House of Commons (an
interval excepted) now twenty years. Those who are
accustomed constantly to see and hear him, if the fact
did not stare them in the face, would scarcely give the
noble lord credit for the experience which so long a
public life ought to have brought with it. They would
expect from him ultra-liberal opinions; or warm, hearty,
English sympathy, always bordering on rashness; or
ambitious efforts at political philosophy; or high-flown
attempts at the sublime in oratory: any thing, in short,
but wisdom or common sense. When Lord Morpeth
was in parliament before, the idea of youthfulness and
crudity (as in the case of Mr. Disraeli) had obtained
such full possession of the minds of those accustomed
to watch those matters, that even superior power
scarcely received its due meed of respect when at intervals it was displayed, but was postponed in the
general estimation to the claims of unambitious but consistent dullness. Time alone willremove this ridiculous
but provoking prejudice. It is fast giving way already.
Carry back the imagination six or seven years. You
are walking down to the House of Commons, looking
inquiringly, in the stream of horsemen and pedestrians
that flows continuously toward St. Stephen's between
the hours of four and five, for the notables of the day.
Some one strides rapidly toward you in the distance.
Heavens, at what a rate he walks! Nearer he comes.
He must be somebody; but you will scarce have time




LORD MORPETH.               163
to take a steady view, ere he will shoot past you. Has
he something on his mind, that those two large, wideopen eyes stare so fixedly on vacancy, half-starting from
their sockets?  Or is it only that he will tie his white
cravat so tight that his full long face and toppling hat
look like a large thistle on its fragile stem? And why
stalketh he on (unmindful of the July sun!) with that
blank, fixed look, as of unutterable pain? Is he possessed? Hath he a demon? or a steam leg? or thinketh he that he bestrides a velocipede? No sign! On,
on! the figure comes, Old-Hamlet-like, but t'other
way, and with a sharp, quick noise of iron heels. Another instant and it has whisked by you-disappeared,
past the tall Hibernian porter, through the little door
of the House of Commons-a brief but startling apparition of two eyes, a flushed face (which you think
you must have seen before, or something very like it),
a fawn-like figure with tapering legs, in a swallow-tailed coat, and fautless inexpressibles!
Having made your way into the strangers' gallery
by means of an order, you are observing the different
great men of the day. There he is! standing by the
side of a little green table near the bar, with papers in
his hand, waiting to catch the Speaker's eye. How
restless the light, graceful figure is! Is he going to
dance? The feet seem as if moving to some ", ditty
of no tone." Positively, if the Speaker does not call
upon him soon, he will pirouette with airy bound along
the floor, and come down with an a plomb upon the
table. Ah! he is at last released from pain-the pain
of standing still. He trips gracefully up to the gentlemen in wigs, the Speaker's deputies in martyrdom,
delivers his papers, and drops into his seat; for he is
in office. A littlelater and our tantalizing friend rises
to speak, standing at the table with his ministerial dispatch-box before him, a mountain of papers, and two
oranges snug in a corner-awful symptoms of a long




164          ORATORS OF THIE AGE.
speech. Now you have a moment to study his countenance: surely it is familiar to you! Did you, in the
old days, visit the Haymarket Theater? Did you ever
see Liston as Apollo Belvi? Do you ever ponder on
the graphic works of our great limner-satirist, the
mysterious ",HB."' —he who foreshadows political
events, grasping their hidden causes, or seizing on their
ridiculous aspects, with such wondrous sagacity and
wit?  No; nor have you, to your knowledge, ever
seen Lord Morpeth before. Yet you know those
lineaments! Sir, it is the other face you are thinking of.
He has begun to speak. He has delivered an ambitious exordium, stilted and high-flown in language,
but elevated and generous in sentiment. His voice is
rather harshly high in its tone, and too uniform in its
sound. But there is vigor and earnestness, and here
and there a touch of manly feeling, that almost startles
by its contrast with the odd, overgrown-boyish, yet not
unprepossessing, figure and manner. The action, also,
is too formal; it has too much of the schools; and there
is altogether an artificial and ambitious effort at eloquence that makes one wish Lord Morpeth would trust
more to his own unfettered impulses, and not so much
to the lessons he has learned of some elocution-master,
who has tried to teach him what never yet was taught,
and never will be. The style is too much that of the
"young gentlemen's academies" on examination-day.
But the niore you hear, the more you like both the
speaker and the seentiments: in spite of all his peculiarities he has warmed you up. If you don't think
with him, at least you feel with him. You have forgotten, too, the little traits of the ludicrous, in the
palpable moral integrity of the man before you, instinct
with a consciousness of the deep responsibilities of his
exalted rank and station.
Such was the Lord Morpeth of 1840. To come at the
Lord Morpeth of the present day, you have but to soft



ORATORS OF THIE AGE.            165
en down the ludicrous ideas, and extend the influence
of those which are associated with respect for high
moral and intellectual qualities.  Five years, while
they have added some silver to the gray hairs which
it seems is the hereditary peculiarity of his famnlily,
have smoothed off many of the angularities, and
strengthened the tone, of his mind. His language,
still ambitious, is less inflated; his manner less bombastic; his style generally more finished. He is certainly developing, not, perhaps, into a great orator, but,
at all events, into a powerful and accomplished speaker, with great sway over the feelings of his auditory.
There are in him the materials of a statesman, but of
a statesman in.whom the good rather than the great
will predominate.
Contrasted with Earl Grey, he gains by the comparison. Although the former had the start of him in
official life, he is equally, if not more efficient, fiom
his greater patience and amenity. Lord Morpeth
never excites bitterness of feeling; Lord Grey does.
With equal honesty of purpose, he takes circumstances more into view, and does not run counter to public feeling where no good, but rather harm, would ensue. He takes broader views, more germane to the
great object of all statesmanship and legislation than
the strict logical conclusions of Earl Grey. He reasons,
to a great extent, through his feelings; Lord Grey
subdues all feeling to the harsh necessities of experimental policy. The one gives the rein in a great
measure to his sympathies, feeling that they will not
lead him far wrong: with the other, to think, to reason,
to prove, is to be wise; he sets up the wisdom of man's
limited capacity above that higher wisdom which is
based on our moral instincts. The one warms, inspires
you; the other convinces, perhaps, but chills. The
one makes the (untried) principles of modern political
economists subservient to general policy and the wants




166             LORD MORPETII.
Of human nature; the other has a cast-iron mold for all
things. The one would expand legislation as far as
possible, trusting much to the good old forms in which
the English nation has grown up; the other would
centralize, and, by centralizing, paralyze. The one
trusts, perhaps, a little too much to the heart; but
certainly the other depends too entirely on the head.
It almost follows that the one should be more popular
than the other,-at least, so is the fact.  Both, no
doubt, deserve credit for good intentions. Their future
career will be, at no very great distance of time, perhaps, again side by side. It is to be hoped that neither
the popular sympathies of Lord Morpeth, nor the personal ambition of Earl Grey, will lead them to disregard or undervalue the dangers to which their own
characters as statesmen and the welfare of their country will be exposed, if they too readily yield, on insufficient grounds, to the ", pressure from without."




THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
IT has become a deliberate practice with some political writers, who, under the mask of an ardent zeal
for the commercial greatness of this empire, seem to
conceal sinister designs against the constitutional influence of the landed aristocracy, to sneer at the public displays of noblemen who take an earnest interest
in the affairs of the country. Their ridicule is directed not so much against individuals, as against the class
to which they belong,-the design evidently being to
lead John Bull to believe that those to whom  the
guardianship of the legislative interests of the country
is particularly confided by hereditary right, are not so
fit for the work they have to perform as are the more
practical men, who have sprung from the middle classes, and have had a personal experience on all the subjects upon which they are required to legislate. During the great Anti-Corn-law agitation, especially, a
marked crusade of ridicule was directed against ", the
dukes." It happened at that time, that one or two
members of the highest rank in the peerage threw
themselves with unusual ardor into the contest going
on out of doors; and portions of their speeches, perverted for interested purposes, were seized upon as
foundations for the most monstrous and absurd imputations. Among the rest, the Duke of Buckingham,
as being one of the most distinguished of the friends
of protection to agriculture, could not hope to escape.
The more zealous and disinterested his support of




168           ORATORS OF TIHE AGE.
protection, the more certain was he to be held up to
public odium, and, what was worse, contempt. Selfinterest, pride, a dictatorial spirit, blind ignorance, and
arrogant pretension,-these were a few of the motives
ascribed to the noble duke and some of his coadjutors;
and, as if it were not enough thus to malign and disguise
their intentions, an unfair criticism extended itself to
their power of enforcing their opinions, until they were
described as almnost unable to acquit themselves of an
ordinary after-dinner speech, except in a style that
would disgrace a debating-club.
Now nobody expects a duke to be a great orator.
If nature or education make him one, so much the
better; but otherwise his position scarcely requires it.
The constitution places the peers in a different position from their fellow-countrymen. It is voluntary
with a man his being a member of the House of Commons; a member of the Upper House has no choice.
Nature wills that he shall be a legislator, whether he
likes it or not. It is his duty to form an opinion on
every subject that is, in the natural course of things,
brought before the House of Lords; he must give his
vote if called on, and on great questions he can scarcely
vote without explaining the grounds on which he does
so. To find fault with a man so situated, because he
can not compete with those whom emulation or ambition has made orators, would be in the extreme unfair.  The opinions of an hereditary peer are of
value, not merely for their intrinsic worth, but also
because they come from a man in his- position. Every
word he utters comes backed by the weight of a delegated authority. Even when he only expresses the
interested views of a class, he has constituents as much
as any member of the House of Commons; and what
he says has importance even on that ground alone.
And if he espouse an obstructive policy, it should be
remembered that to do that when occasion requires, is




TIHE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAIM.         169
one of the duties imposed on him by -the constitution.
To object, therefore, to men like the Duke of Buckingham or the Duke of Richmond, that their speeches
are mere stale reproductions of old ideas, is really not
to throw an effectual ridicule upon them. To do so
occasionally, and with a due regard to the new ideas
engendered by new circumstances, is more a necessity
of their legislative rank than any evidence of infirmity
in their mind.
But the Duke of Buckingham, although from his
high rank and his influence with the landed interest
he has been peculiarly laid open to these charges, has
really been most unfairly made the victim of political
animosity. Sufficient credit has not been given him for
his talents even as an orator, much less as a politician.
Because it was easy to deceive the vulgar into believing that he was ", a duke, and nothing more," those
whose object it is to bring the aristocracy into public contempt did not hesitate at the ungracious task.
It was of no use that those who were in the habit of
hearing the Marquis of Chandos speak, whether at
agricultural meetings or in parliament, bore testimony
to that fiank and open-hearted eloquence which made
him beloved as much as he was respected, and constituted him ", the farmer's friend" in a personal as well
as a political sense. They were comparatively few,
and their voices were not heard in the vulgar roar of
those interested in running down the agricultural leaders. Yet, as a'speaker on ordinary occasions, whether in parliament or at agricultural meetings, the noble
duke stands on a par with all but the prepared and
professed orators. He can lower the tone of his
ideas, and adapt the degrees of his courtesy, to the
level agreeable to the feelings or the understandings of
an agricultural tenantry; or he can elevate and refine
his language and thoughts to the pitch required in the
more congenial atmosphere of the House of Lords.




170         ORATORS OF THE AGE.
He does both without the slightest appearance of effort; and is, therefore, in all probability, equally sincere, whether his demeanor be that of a ducal legislator or that of a simple country gentleman.
He is charged with having all the pride of a feudal
nobleman. At least, he does not display it, either in
the House of Lords or when among his agricultural
friends. A more pleasing example of the modern feudal relations between the aristocracy and the cultivators of the soil there can not be, than when the Duke
of Buckingham meets his agricultural neighbors, —say,
at a public dinner at Buckingham, to which he has
walked in leisurely in the afternoon from his princely
mansion of Stowe. Less display, less pride, less even
of the pride which apes cordiality and humility, it would
be difficult to conceive. The plain, unpretending
dress, the frank, open countenance, the free, manly,
courteous bearing, the friendly salutation, the well
timed jest, and the hearty laugh at the shrewd response
of some old and long tried tenant,-all bespeak a healthy
state of the relations between the duke and his neigh
bors, utterly repugnant to all suggestions of undue pride
or presumption. And when the after-dinner proceed
ings-the speeches-begin, you find him entering on
his task in the true English spirit, without assumption
or affectation, but with a kind of tacit recognition of an
equality under the law and the constitution between
himself and his hearers, notwithstanding their difference of rank and the power which his position in the
county might give him over them. He talks to them,
not as a duke to commoners, or as a landlord to his
tenants, but as an agriculturist speaking to agriculturists; and his speeches are plain, manly, shrewd, and
practical; just the sort of speeches they would make
to each other over their pipes and ale. And when he
touches on politics, there is none of the magnijico in
his promises of aid. He knows well that they look up




THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.           171
to him as their parliamentary leader; but there is no
appearance on his part that he presumes on their regard and respect. He talks to them as a member of
parliament might talk to his constituents-for they are
his constituents-and he willingly renders them an account of his stewardship. The courtier becomes the
farmer at these meetings, till the farmers almost become courtiers.
In the House of Lords the duke is more than respectable as a speaker. He addresses the House seldom, but always with effect. When he was in the
House of Commons as the Marquis of Chandos, he
spoke much more frequently; and held a vely distinguished position as a party leader. He was to the agriculturists what Sir Robert Inglis is to the Churcha steady, consistent, and recognized champion. If Sir
Robert Inglis has hitherto been more successful in his
championship of the Church than the duke has been
as the advocate of agriculture, it must be remembered
that he has not yet been placed in circumstances of so
much trial. The duke's speeches are not of a character to provoke much criticism. He makes no pretensions to oratory, but always produces an impressive
effect. Simple and forcible language, a clear and
manly voice, a good delivery, and an air of unquestionable sincerity, render him an agreeable speaker to listen to. More dignified and temperate than the Duke
of Richmond, he does not so often provoke comment
or retort; but what he says has weight with the House
from his known integrity, his long and devoted service
to the cause of agriculture, and the high position which,
whether as an individual member of parliament or a
minister of the crown, he has always held in the public
estimation.




THE EARL OF RADNOR.
THERE is not much to be said touching the Earl of
Radnor. With the settlement of the Corn-law question a great portion of his parliamentary importance
will have subsided. As an opponent of protection to
agriculture, he occupied relatively the same position
toward the question that was held by the Duke of
Buckingham or the Duke of Richmond as its supporters. For a great number of years he has been the
steady advocate of the repeal of the Corn-laws; and
although his advocacy has never attained that dignity
and weight which attended the opinion of Earl Spencer on the same subject, he has at least earned and obtaine'd that kind of moral weight and respect which is
always reserved for consistency, even when it has only
been the blind impulse or the unreasoning persistence
of a confined mind. The Earl of. Radnor has always
held an anomalous position in the House of Peers; he
was, to all intents and purposes, a, Radical," advocating democratic objects, if not..democratic opinions, in
the very heart of an aristocratic body.
Every observer of mankind will have met in the
course of his career some persons of the class to which
Lord Radnor belongs as a thinker,-men old in years
and experience, but inveterately young and unripe in
mind. They are generally extremely honest in their
intentions, whether as regards their personal conduct
or their belief that the opinions they hold will work for
the public good; but those opinions scarcely keep pace




THE EARL OF RADNOR.             173
with the wants or the intelligence of the time. It is a
well founded objection to some politicians, that they
are too much addicted to looking backward, that they
are blind worshipers of the past, and have no place in
their mind either for the facts of the present or for
sound and healthy anticipations of the future. Such
men are the bigots of a reasoning age; they live amid
the tombs of their ancestors; they flourish with a sinister vitality, like weeds of rank luxuriance, amid the
ruins of old opinions and institutions. Now the class
to which Lord Radnor belongs is the counterpart of
this, only that their prejudices run rather in favor of
the future-a future created by their own imaginations
-than of the past. They are equally bigots-bigots to
speculative philosophy and hazardous politics. They
are as deeply.enamored of the new and the untried,
as the others are devoted to the old and the exhausted.
The one class are the poets of a fabulous and over estimated past; the others, the prophets of an unattainable future. It may be said on their behalf, that they
anticipate their cotemporaries,-that principles which,
fifty years ago, were denounced as the vain dreams of
enthusiasts, have now grown to be the faith of practical men. And you will often hear them  boastingthese few remnants, when they hold their periodical
reunions-that what they ran the risk of being outlawed for when they were youths, is now the foundation
of the fame of statesmen; that they, despised and ridiculed as they used to be, were, after all, right from
the first; while those who ridiculed them confessed in
the long run that they were so. But such men can
never be persuaded that, except in the abstract sciences,
it is possible to discover truth too soon; that in politics,
sound principles do not so much prevail as the aggregate necessities of a people; that the application of
their principles at the time they urged them with the
greatest zeal, would, in all probability, have endangered




174          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
the safety of the nation; and that, therefore, although
as thinkers they might have been right, as statesmen
they were wrong. Another point which makes against
them is, that however much they may at a former period have been, as theorists, before their age, their
minds do not advance with those of their cotemporaries. Their early aims accomplished, they do not, as
more healthy and practical minds would, press forward
to new discoveries in political science. They rather
halt ere even the whole work is done, clinging obstinately to old dogmas and projects, and looking back
with senile fondness to those darling offsprings of their
youth and prime, once so magnified in importance to
their intellectual eye, but now dwarfed in the receding
tide of Time.
In truth they are men of fixed ideas, often of one
idea, and that not their own. The particular class of
politicians to which we now refer-a sparse and scattered few, of whom Lord Radnor is a sort of Coryphous —may be said to date their existence from about
the period of the first French Revolution. The seductive theories by which that great event was heralded and succeeded, seized early on their immature
minds, but were not, as with more practical men, discarded as soon as their crude uselessness was made
apparent. The opinions, more or less modified, which
they imbibed then, they retain undigested at the present hour. They stand-a kind of moral landmarks,
showing the height to which exaggerated hopes and
unfounded fears carried our fathers. They still look
upon Church and State as one enormous hypocrisy;
on Ministers, as covert enemies of liberty; on the People as the abstraction of infallible, unerring wisdom and
goodness; on the Law, as a complicated machine of
tyranny; on Statesmen, as public plunderers; on an
Aristocracy as public usurpers; and on all distinctions
of rank, as so many badges of slavery. Other men




TIlE EARL OF RADNOR.            175
grow out of these youthful prepossessions, these bug-,
bears of their early fears: not so the young-old-men
we speak of; their minds never ripen in the sun of
nationality, or gain strength by the fertilizing influence
of philosophy. Such as they were when they first
imbibed their notions, so are they now. For them
Time has no magic of silent change. As their first
impressions were prejudices or the impulses of hasty
passion only, conviction has worked no result on their
minds, and never will.
Of the Earl of Radnor as an orator, but little need
be said. He makes no pretensions to the character,
and, therefore, could not be offended at its not being
awarded to him. But there are few members of the
House of Peers, except those in ministerial offices,
who so often favor their fellow-legislators with their
opinions. As has been already said, the noble earl
was always a stout and consistent advocate of the repeal of the Corn-laws; and it was in the constant recurrence, in some shape or other, to those views, that
he was most frequently before the House of Peers.
At one time he was a sort of squire, or rather, perhaps,
the socius, of Lord Brougham; afterward he contracted a strict alliance, offensive and defensive, with Lord
Kinnaird. The two noble lords were the organs and
advocates of the League in the House of Lords. The
Earl of Radnor, too, is always great at a grievance.
Any case of oppression, particularly should a government officer be the agent of the supposed injury, is a
delightful stimulant to the inherent Quixotism of his
nature. Nothing will persuade him that either the
times or public men are altered; he persists in looking
at the case with the light of forty years ago. Visions
float before his mind's eye of savage attorney-generals, corrupt judges, and immaculate and oppressed
defendants.  Hardy's case, or Horne Tooke's, is
the pivot on which he turns his whole constitutional




176         ORATORS OF THE AGE.
knowledge when any question of political liberty is involved. All his efforts are dictated by the most noble
and honest feelings; but his zeal sometimes gets the
better of his discretion. At these times, or when he
is pursuing his favorite theme of repeal of the Cornlaws, he pours forth an interminable flood of talk, a
strange mixture of assertion, one-sided reasoning, and
shrewd illustration, in which every now and then you
hear an argument of singular sense and applicability,
or an idea of striking originality, but overwhelmed in
a mass of what, without wishing to use an offensive
term, we fear can only be described as twaddle. Advanced in years, and with the loquacious habits which
age often entails, an enfeebled voice, and a rambling,
almost incoherent style of speaking, Lord Radnor does
not at first inspire much confidence or respect as a
public man. But, amid all his prejudices, and notwithstanding his propensity to talk you to death with
them, there is some sterling stuff in him after all. He
means well, he is thoroughly sincere; and it should
always be borne in mind, whatever may be thought of
the wisdom of his uncompromising advocacy of extreme
Liberal opinions, that he has, at least, the merit of
having urged them on both branches of the legislature
through a long period of time, and in a condition of political parties when to do so required a persevering and
oblivious honesty of character, if it did not almost involve a loss of caste.




THE DUKE OF RICHMOND.
THERE is more ", character" about the Duke of Richmond than even in his ducalPcoadjutor in the agricultural leadership. He throws himself with more warmth
and hearty earnestness into the arena of political strife;
and, although quite as kind-hearted, affable, and courteous, as theDuke of Buckingham, he does not so much
study and regard the amenities of life, whether in the
political world or in his private personal bearing. His
courtesy is more frank and blunt. For every two men
who would be charmed with the manners of the Duke
of Buckingham, one, at least, might, at first sight, coilsider the Duke of Richmond rude and dictatorial. The
kindness of the Duke of Buckingham might be construed
into condescension-never that of the Duke of Richmond. He has but one language, one manner, one
mode of address for all men. He speaks in the same
blunt, downright tone to his equals as to his inferiors;
he addresses the House of Lords in precisely the same
terms and tone of voice that he would use to a servant.
He meets you face to face, foot to foot, as man to
man, casting all factitious distinctions of rank aside, and
trusting to his cause alone. If you get into a quarrel
with him, you must look to receive good hard hits from
good hard hands. Like Lord Brougham, he thinks
that an argument levels all distinctions; and if he can
give you a knock-down blow, he will not pause to inquire whether you are a prince or a pedler, a duke or
a manufacturer. He is no orator, any more than his
M




178          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
brother duke; but his earnestness, practical knowledge, and sound common sense, make him a formidable antagonist to even the most practiced and powerful speakers.
The Duke of Richmond takes a more general interest
in public affairs than the Duke of Buckingham, mixes
himself up more with agriculture as a science, and
identifies himself with the objects and proceedings of
different classes of the community. Although of so
high a rank, he is essentially one of the people; he
would be a general favorite for his sterling English
qualities, even had he no dukedom to recommend him.
He has an active, stirring mind, and is quite as much
up to the mark in every kind of business as the most
practical man of the day. His whole life and conduct
are a palpable contradiction to the vulgar ideas about
", the dukes." Few among those who are engaged in
running down the order would have much chance against
the Duke of Richmond, if they were to try a fall with
him in argument. Among his otherqualifications he is a
good magistrate at quarter-sessions, identifying himself
more with the people than with the law, and construing the latter as favorably as he can to the offender;
and he makes a first-rate chairman at a public meeting
or a public dinner. At the latter, he throws himself
heart and soul into the proceedings, whether from liking or a desire to put people at their ease; and a succession of short, rattling, appropriate speeches, introduce the several toasts in a manner that dissuades
others from prolixity, and keeps up the flow of good
feeling uninterruptedly. He is also in great strength
at the meetings of the Agricultural Society, of which
he has been president. There he thoroughly identifies himself with the feelings and interests of the farmers, and when it is his duty to preside, contrives to
keep things together, whether at the business meetings or the purely convivial assemblages, in a style




THE DUKE OF RICHMOND.           179
that renders him a general favorite. These matters
are trivial in themselves, and would be scarcely worth
notice in any man who had been less maligned and
misrepresented, less charged with a monopolizing and
dictatorial spirit, than the Duke of Richmond.
His chief field of action is, of course, the House of
Lords; but he has also distinguished himself at periodical agricultural meetings, and at the meetings of
the Central Protection Society. As to his oratory in
the House of Lords, the same remarks apply that
were made on the Duke of Buckingham-his position
should be taken into account in estimating the value
of his speeches. It is chiefly as the stanch and consistent advocate of the interests of agriculture that he
is distinguished. To the one principle of protection
to agriculture he has sacrificed all party and political
ties, establishing himself on the cross-benches, and
watching the movements of either of the great parties
with an eager and suspicious eye. When he was a
Whig, he left office and his party because he thought
they were about to sacrifice the interests of agriculture; he has again left the Conservatives on their
conversion to free-trade.  This accounts for the extreme energy, almost amounting to virulence, of his
opposition to the Peel government at the free-trade
crisis. He was but acting on his memorable, but
somewhat intemperate threat, that,those who had
brought Sir Robert Peel in'would turn him out again."
But he has not a particle of rancor in his nature: he
is too upright and high-minded to entertain such feelings. He is, however, quite capable of the extremes
of an honest indignation; and this feeling it is which
seems to have dictated his proceedings in the House
of Lords in the decided course he took against those
whomn he believed to have betrayed their trust.
He is a better speaker than the Duke of Buckingham. There is more force and originality in his




180           ORATORS OF THE A(E.
ideas, and his language sometimes rises far above the
ordinary level. There is less conventionality in his
style than in that of any member of the House of
Peers. Like Lord Melbourne or Lord Brougham,
he uses his illustrations recklessly, regardless whence
they come, so that they be pointed and effective.
There is vigor in his sp6bhes, derived from  the
frankness of his character.'He talks out boldly whatever he thinks or feels, and as he has a well regulated
mind the result is not disagreeable. The same style
he uses at a meeting of farmers or at a public dinner
serves him also for the House of Lords. He uses no
preparation, nor does he attempt to produce effect by
means of rhetorical art, and his speeches are more
forcible and persuasive from the absence of all appearance of effort. On the other hand, if his language and
illustrations are often homely, he can, when occasion
demands it, use a more lofty tone, one more in harmony with the position and responsibilities of a peer of
parliament. A speech he made against the Corn-bill
of Sir Robert Peel, prophesying its consequences and
denouncing its authors, was of a very high order of
natural eloquence, in the ideas, the diction, and the
delivery.
His mode of delivering his sentiments is as peculiar
to himself as the sentiments themselves are unaffected
and forcible. He plunges into his subject as if in desperation. When he has resolved to address the House,
he starts up suddenly, and makes a rush at once at
the very pith and marrow of the question, without
exordium or apology, or any of those explanations by
which ordinary speakers seek to propitiate their auditory. He stands bolt upright, disdains all action, and
fires off his sentences in short, quick volleys, like those
of a steam-gun. From his loud voice and excited
manner you are tempted to think he is in a great passion, and to fear that there may be ere long some un



THFE DUKE OF RICHMOND.           181
pleasant and unparliamentary explosion.  No such
thing. The peers are used to this. It is only a constitutional irritability which means nothing, or, what
is more likely, a habit of which he can not divest himself. His loud tone of voice helps the belief that he is
in a high state of excitement, while its monotony is at
times disagreeable. He hias a practice, too, of clipping
his words, and of pronouncing them with a nasal twang
-a sort of compound of the Cockney and Yankee. A
more careful man, one more anxious to curry favor by
attention to appearances, would correct these blemishes; but there is an unique simplicity in the character of the Duke of Richmond which makes him indifferent to such considerations, or disdainful of them.
Upon the whole, we do not know that a more admirable model of what should be the character of the
British nobleman could be found among our aristocracy. As a politician he is not a mere theorist, nor
does he merely come forward in the arena, as so many
do, to defend his order when attacked. He is essentially a working man, laboring as hard and as effectually in his station (and with all the moral weight attaching to voluntary service) as the most humble man in
the realm; and we look to see him hereafter devoting
his valuable time and aid in the business of government or of legislation, without reference to either personal or party considerations.




MR. BRIGHT.
THE position of Mr. Bright, as a public man, is
at present undefined. Returned to parliament under
peculiar and almost unprecedented circumstances, a
factitious importance was attached to his movements,
-an importance which we are far from saying was
unwarranted, but which implies a standing among
cotemporary politicians that is not yet awarded by
the common consent of those who are qualified to judge,
or earned by any success as a speaker, whether sudden and brilliant, or steady and progressive. His defects were likely to have been overlooked in the strong
light which the triumphant success of the Anti-Cornlaw agitation threw around the chief leaders in that
movement; and he has not yet had sufficient opportunity of displaying his general qualifications as a legislator or as a debater to enable and to determine,
with any positive accuracy, the rank he ought to hold.
Mr. Bright may be said to have been dragged upward by Mr. Cobden, in his rapid and remarkable
ascent to fame and notoriety. Had he been left to
pursue his path alone, it is more than probable that
he would never have emerged from the dead level of
society-or that, if he had attained any eminence at
all, it would have been to achieve a distinction not more
illustrious than that of the most noisy and arrogant
orator of a parish vestry, in whom strength of lungs,
and an indomitable determination not to be out-bullied,
are the most prominent qualifications. If common re



MR. BRIGHT                 183
port be true, it was in some field of action not very
dissimilar to this that Mr. Bright first developed his
talking powers, and first acquired his relish for the
coarser ovations of vulgar fame. But fortune willed
that he should live to figure in a much more important
sphere; and that he should be the co-tribune of Mr.
Cobden in the most decidedly anti-aristocratic movement of modern days-at least of the period which
dates from the commencement of the present century.
Although, however, Mr. Bright has been usually
associated with Mr. Cobden, as being, next to him, the
most prominent leader in this great peaceful revolution,
it should be understood that there is a great difference
in the mental caliber of Ike two men. Perhaps Mr.
Bright, who has at times exhibited much frankness of
nature, would be one of the first to admit this, and to
yield the palm of leadership to his nominal as well as
real superior in the agitation. WVhile their joint efforts
were mainly confined to the platform, when they were
still only enforcing bold dogmas and impudent fallacies
upon uneducated but prepossessed audiences, the difference was not so perceptible. One demagogue is in
the main as good as another, except that he who has
the loudest voice and the greatest amount of assurance
will often shine in this sphere, to the eclipsing of men
of greater modesty and less physical power, but far
more extended views and intrinsic value. Therefore, it is more than probable, that if the audiences at
free-trade tea-parties, or even at the weekly meetings
at Covent Garden theater, could have been polled,
at least a very large minority would have declared their
preference for the stentorian Bright. But in parliament the case was far different. There the peculiar
characteristics of Mr. Bright which were calculated to
captivate a mob —the readiness to attack constituted
authority, the habitual vilification of the superior classes
of society-all made against him rather than in his




184          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
favor; more especially as there was no charm in his
mode of addressing himself to his hearers, but only a
mere rude outpouring, sometimes vigorous and powerful,
but more often only offensively candid, of the accumulated hatreds engendered by years of unwilling subordination to those who were uppermost, by reason not
only of their social position but also of their superior
moral and intellectual claims. Yet, even in the House
of Commons, Mr. Bright more than once created a
sensation and drew down deserved applause. However offensive his leveling spirit may be when he is in
a position of attack, every license, of course, is afforded
him when he is compelled to speak in self-defense;
and on the occasions referred to, he, and the class to
which he belongs, had been made the subjects of assaults by members of the agricultural party, which
were scarcely excusable. In these instances, Mr.
Bright showed such determined spirit, and spoke with
such vigor and readiness, occasionally with such cleverness of retort, that he did much to remove the!
prejudices which some earlier efforts of his, following
closely on the unfavorable impression created by his
out-of-door proceedings, had produced.  Again, his
speech on moving for a committee to inquire into the
operation of the Game-laws attracted favorable notice,
partly because he handled his subject so well, and
partly because he achieved a success. It constitutes
a sort of breastwork, from which he may pursue that
system of attack on the landed aristocracy which, suggested of course by his class-prejudices as a manufacturer, and possibly by his sectarian feelings as a Quaker,
seems to be the great object of his public life. Still.
with all these symptoms of a growing reputation in the
House, he will not boar to be compared with Mr. Cobden, who, as a statesman even, as well as a speaker,
stands on higher ground-on an altitude which Mr.
Bright could never hope to reach. Mr. Bright would




MR. BRIGHT.                185
better hear comparison or contrast with Mr. Villiers,
who, like himself, has a more confined range than Mr.
Cobden.
Mr. Villiers, too, was a determined and persevering
advocate of repeal of the Corn-laws; but Mr. Bright
has more of character and originality than Mr. Villiers.
Sprung from the people, and representing in feeling,
as well as by the law of parliament, the commercial
classes, Mr. Bright imported more of passion and political feeling into his agitation against the Corn-laws
than did his more aristocratic coadjutor. There is a
rough, coarse vigor in his style of speaking, which,
while it is attractive at a public meeting, rather puzzles
the House of Commons. It does not exactly square
with their ideas of what the demeanor of a member of
parliament ought to be, and yet they can not quarrel
with the bold and uncompromising expression of opinion, when restrained and regulated by that respect
which even parvenues have for custom, from one who,
by the suffrage of a legally constituted body of his
fellow-countrymen, has acquired the right to speak.
The truth is, that Mr. Bright does not pay any very great
respect to those enervating conventionalities of debate
which are held in so much reverence by the House of
Commons. He comes there to perform a duty, which
he has been taught to consider a sacred duty-a reality, not.a mere form; and that moral impetus bears
him onward till he sometimes forgets what is due to
the' House of Commons on the score of its authority
and essential importance, and is not content with merely
telling them truths, but must also tell those truths in
a manner not always to be defended.
Mr. Bright is dogmatic; Mr. Villiers, argumentative.
Upon the former the question of free-trade was forced
by the necessities of his position as a manufacturer;
the latter ", took it up," either from a conviction of what
just was, or a foresight of what would be advantageous.




186          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
The one spent less ingenuity on his case than the other,
because, perhaps, he trusted more to what he believed
to be its justice; but, on the other hand, his appeals,
whether at the meetings of the League or in parliament, received more attention or commanded more
sympathy, because he was felt to be more in earnest
and to have better grounds for his advocacy. Mr.
Bright's eloquence (if such it can be called) derives its
interest from the connection of the speaker with the
subject. He is not giving utterance to theories, but to
necessities. It is a pounds-shillings-and-pence question that he is arguing, in which every fact is worth
all the tropes and figures of the rhetorician. In such
a case great allowances will, of course, be made. They
are often required by Mr. Bright, who sometimes-not
so much in language as in spirit-brings the democratic
tone a little too much into parliamentary discussion.




MR. SHEIL.
EVERY public speaker who can arrest the attention
and act upon the feelings of an audience is, in the most
loose or enlarged acceptation of the term, an orator;
even in its strict and literal sense, the same definition
would almost apply. But it is needless to remind our
readers that there are almost as many gradations of
excellence included in that general term as there are
in similar ones used in reference to painting or sculpture, or poetry or acting. As the circle of public intelligence becomes expanded, by the greater spread of
general knowledge among the people, and the more
universal interest of all classes in questions of a political
or social nature in reference to legislation, the number
of public speakers who excite attention and maintain a
hold upon the feelings of the people becomes almost
indefinitely multiplied; the intellectual quality of their
speeches is deteriorated in proportion as their practical
utility is increased; and it becomes more and more difficult to settle the old and often disputed question, ", What
is an orator?" Several speakers have already been included in this series, whom it would have been absurd to
place upon the list of those, so few in names but so brilliant in performances, who, by the common consent of
mankind, by the testimony of history and the evidence
of their works, happily undestroyed, are recognized as
being the great masters in the art of oratory. Yet, on
the other hand, the individuals so excluded exercise a
direct and powerful influence over their fellow-country



188          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
men scarcely paralleled, and certainly not exceeded, by
the higher order of public speakers. Their utilitarian
value fully compensates to the general mind for their
want of artificial enhancement. The public, perhaps,
would care little to know what were the brilliant excellences of Mr. Sheil or Mr. Macaulay, or what a
critical analysis would discover of their defects; if the
plan of the writer gave them that information on the
condition that, in the exercise of a somewhat hypercritical judgment, he left them in ignorance of the
oratorical qualifications of Lord John Russell, or Sir
Robert Peel, or Mr. Cobden, or even Lord George
Bentinck, men with whose names the whole country
is ringing. Yet a speech from Lord Lyndhurst, Lord
Brougham, Mr. Sheil, Mr. Macaulay, or Mr. Disraeli,
or from Mr. Fox and some of the most distinguished
platform speakers, wholly differs, not merely in the
degree but also in the nature of its excellence, from
those of the more practical orators, they who really
lead the public mind. The one is a study for the intellect and a pleasure to the imagination, for its intrinsic excellence or beauty, while the other derives
its interest from extraneous causes, ceasing with the
excitement of the hour; such as the position of the
speaker, the nature and aspect of the subject he is
handling, and, generally, from the exciting political
causes which every year of struggling perpetuates.
But the men of the higher order have their ultimate
reward. The others have the applause of the present
hour alone. Their lumbering speeches are duly reported in the newspapers, in their inglorious rivalry
which shall produce the greater number of columns of
print; but after the lapse of a week they are forgotten,
or only remembered that they may be quoted at a
future time against themselves, when, in the mutations
of modern politics, they shall find it necessary to contradict all their former assertions and argue against all




MR. SHEIL.                 189
their former opinions. But the real orator of the
highest class-he who had a nobler end in view than
forensic sophistry or mere clap-trap and cajolery —not
only is admired at the time he utters his speech, but
is remembered long after his temporary rivals are forgotten. His effusions are read and studied as models
by successive aspirants to fame; they are admired by
the poet, as he admires his Milton, his Wordsworth,
or his Tennyson; by the artist, as he admires his Titian
or his Turner; and it is to them, also, that the most
valuable praise of all is accorded-that of posterity.
The practical men secure the present only, the men
of genius enjoy both the present and the future.
Mr. Sheil is a man of genius, and making allowance
for some defects which shall be hereafter adverted to,
an orator of the highest order. Whether his speeches
be read in the closet years after they were delivered,
or whether they be heard with all the advantages of
that burning eloquence, that brilliancy of diction, that
fiery impetuosity of action, which have now become
almost associated with the name of Sheil, they are still
the same powerful, beautiful, soul-stirring works, still
models of the finest rhetorical art. Scarcely any terms
of admiration would be too strong as applied to some
of his speeches, while even those which do not rise to
the highest pitch of excellence have, nevertheless, so
decided and so distinctive a character, that they may
be at once known to be the production not only of a
superior mind, but of the particular man from whom
they have proceeded. The very faults of his style
cease to be defects when regarded in connection with
the pervading tone of his mind, and the leading features of his character.
Mr. Sheil's parliamentary reputation is now of about
fifteen years' standing. For that period he has reigned
without a rival as the most brilliant and imaginative
speaker, and the most accomplished rhetorician, in the




190          ORATORS OF THE Aq(E.
House of Commons. That assembly —heterogeneous
as are the materials of which it is composed-possesses
a marvelous instinct in the discovery and the appreciation of oratorical talent. It is their interest that
they should have among them those who can occasionally charm them from the plodding realities of
legislation, and the dull lucubrations of the practical
men. Therefore they are always alive to excellence,
and stamp it at once. Not very long since a new member, a Mr. Cardwell, made a remarkably valuable
speech on a question of a practical nature, full of powerful reasoning, concentration, and mastery of the facts.
Till the evening when he made that speech, he was
comparatively unknown; but he had not been on his
legs a quarter of an hour, before the unerring instinct
of the House (which operates as closely upon good
business speeches as on the most eloquent) discovered
that, in his degree, he was a superior man, and the
cheering with which he was greeted at the close of
his address was the stamp they set on his ability. Sir
Robert Peel was among the listeners, and in a few
weeks afterward Mr. Cardwell became a minister. If,
in these days of statistics and sophistry, a modest and
undistinguished individual was thus singled out, a fortiori it could not have been long before such an orator
as Mr. Sheil was elevated to the highest point in the
admiration of the House, at a time when high oratory
was more valued. He came but to be heard and to be
triumphant. Heralded by the hyperbolical praise of
his Irish admirers, his first speech was looked for with
a curiosity not unmingled with doubt. But he passed
the ordeal successfully, and from that hour has been
regarded as one of the most distinguished and remarkable of the many great orators which his country, fertile
in genius as in natural riches, has ever produced.
Our mention of the Hibernian admirers of Mr. Sheil
reminds us that we have something to say of that gen



MR. SHEIL.                191
tleman beyond what is prompted by a recollection of
his speeches in the House of Commons. For, unlike
most of our distinguished men, Mr. Sheil was famous
as an orator long before he entered Parliament. His
eloquence had not been the least important element in
causing that unanimity of feeling among the people of
Ireland which ultimately led to the great political and
religious revolution of 1829. There are very few instances on record of men who have: become famous as
speakers at the bar, or at the hustings, or at public
meetings, having equally stood the test of the House
of Commons. It is one of Mir. Sheil's many claims on
our admiration, that having been an energetic, enthusiastic, and successful leader in a great popular, or
rather a great national movement, he should have had
the taste and tact so to subdue his nature in the very
hour of triumph, as afterward to adapt his speaking to
the tone most agreeable to the House, and to charm
them as much by the fire of his eloquence as by the
delicacy of his rhetorical artifices, without the aid of
those stronger and more stirring stimulants to the passions which form the very essence of successful moboratory. In very few instances, indeed, has he ever
discarded these voluntary fetters on the exuberant vigor
of his patriotism and nationality.
Not as an orator merely will Mr. Sheil assist to rescue this age from the charge of mediocrity. Thirty
years ago he began to be known and appreciated as a
poet-when he was only looking forward to the bar as
a profession, and long ere visions of applauding millions,
or of high ministerial office, or a place in the councils
of his sovereign, ever crossed his ardent and aspiring
soul. As the author of the tragedies ", Evadne" and,, The Apostate," Mr. Sheil already occupied a high
place among the writers who were then his cotemporaries-a place not very much unlike that now held by
Talfourd. In the intervals of those productions, and



192          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
for some time afterward, he contributed to the periodicals of the day, and had altogether, even at the early
age of twenty-two, made himself that kind of reputation for originality and a high order of talent which
floats about society, and interests, by some means or
other, more certain in their action than perceptible, the
general mind in the career of particular individuals.
Still, although there were at all times vague predictions
that he would ", do something" some day or other, no
one seems at that time to have suspected that he contained within him the powers which soon afterward
made him second but to one man as a leader of the
Irish people, and ultimately have enabled him to compete with the most illustrious men of the day in those
qualifications which insure parliamentary success.
But with the time came the man. The Roman
Catholic question had of late years assumed a great
parliamentary importance. The stalking-horse of an
ambitious party, the cause had come at last to be regarded as "respectable." English statesmen and orators
-men who in a few years became the rulers of the
country-succeeded those great and eloquent Irishmen
in whom the advocacy of Roman Catholic freedom from
civil disabilities had always been regarded as justifiable
-nay, a matter of duty. In the mean while, all the
legal dexterity of Mr. O'Connell had been devoted to
the construction of an artful but comprehensive scheme
of agitation, by which the people of Ireland might be
organized, and an unanimous call be made on the English parliament for emancipation. This organization
went on, with more or less success, for years. Under
the name of the Roman Catholic Association it rose
from the most insignificant revival (after a temporary
dispersion) in the year 1823, until it assumed that gigantic shape which ultimately terrified the government
of England into an undignified submission. It was in
that year, 1823, that Mr. Sheil and Mr. O'Connell,




MR. SHEIL.               193
who were destined at no very distant time to be the
great leaders of the Association, first met, under circumstances somewhat romantic, at the house of a mutual fiiend in the mountains of Wicklow. There a
congeniality of object overcame the natural repulsion of antagonist minds, and they laid down the plan
of a new agitation. That their meeting was purely an
accidental one, made the results which followed still
more remarkable.
Their first efforts were received with indifference
by the people; but in a very few weeks the Association was formed, and the rolling stone was set in motion. To those who are curious in such matters, it
will be instructive and amusing to observe the parallel
circumstances of the origination of the Roman Catholic Association by some six or seven enthusiasts at a
bookseller's shop in Dublin, and that of the Anti-Cornlaw League by a few merchants at Manchester or at
Preston-for the cotton-heroes have not yet determined at which place the nucleus was formed.
We have alluded to the natural repulsion of antagonist minds. Contrast more marked could scarcely exist than that which was exhibited by the two great
leaders of the Association. That their mental qualities were so different, and the sources of the admiration which each in his sphere excited so opposite, may
be held to be one of the causes of the great success the
Association achieved. If Mr. Sheil was great in rhetoric,-if his impassioned appeals to his countrymen and
to the world stood the test, not merely of Hibernian
enthusiasm but also of English criticism, Mr. O'Connell was greater in planning, in organization, in action,
and he had in his rough and vigorous eloquence a lever
which moved the passions of the Irish people. He,
perhaps, had the good sense to see that as an orator,
in the higher sense of the term, he could never equal
his more brilliant and intellectual colleague. His triN




194          ORATORS OF TIHE AGE.
umphs lay in the council-chamber on the one hand, and
in the market-place or the hillside on the other. It
was in the forum or on the platform that the more elevated and refined eloquence of Sheil, adorned with all
the graces of art, charmed while it astonished a higher
and more cultivated audience. Thus they never
clashed. While all Europe rung with the fame of the,, peaceful agitator," who had taught his countrymen tcuse the forms of the constitution to the subversion of its
spirit and objects, every scholar, every statesman, everx
lover of the beautiful in oratory as an art, had already
learned to admire that new, thrilling, imaginative, ye~
forcible style of eloquence, which, ever and anon, amid
the din and clamor of noisier warfare, sounded the
spirit-stirring tocsin of nationality and religious liberty,
breaking forth like intermittent lightning-flashes amid
the thunders of the agitation. Mr. Sheil, on the other
hand, looked up to Mr. O'Connell for his indomitable
energy and perseverance, his craft, cunning, caution,
his thorough nationality and identification with the
feelings of the people, and would as little have thought
of substantially opposing his decision, or resisting his
general control over the proceedings of the Association, as the other would have attempted to vie with
him in eloquence. So they went on together, side by
side, though really exercising so distinct an influence,
with scarcely any of that jealousy or rivalry which
has so often stifled similar undertakings in their very
infancy. If Mr. Sheil's ideas of agitation were more
grand and comprehensive; if he would fain have gone
by a more direct and manly, but more dangerous,
road to the intelligence of the English parliament and
people; if, in his anxiety to impress on the world a
deep and startling conviction of the union and nationality of the Irish people, and their absolute, even their
slavish devotion to their leaders,-if in this his superabundant energy and velocity of purpose, he would have




i~MR. SHElL.              195
drawn the Association into the meshes of the law,
there was Mr. O'Connell at his right hand to repress
and guide, to steer clear of the rocks and shoals, to
accomplish by that crafty prudence and keen dexterity in escape which savors so much of political cowardice, those objects which, in the other case, would
have been realized by a more manly display of political audacity. Mr. Sheil might be the braver man at
the boarding-pike or the gun, but Mr. O'Connell was
the safer at the helm.
To Mr. Sheil was owing the idea of at once teaching the people of Ireland union and a sense of their
strength, while obtaining a universal expression of their
wish for emancipation, by means of simultaneous meetings throughout Ireland, in every parish in the kingdom, for the purpose of petitioning parliament to concede the Catholic claims.  He would have gone
farther. He would have had a form of prayer prepared, by means of which, in every chapel in Ireland
the people might simultaneously join in an appeal to
Heaven for the advancement of what they had been
taught to believe was a sacred cause; that millions of
men and women might breathe the same aspiration to
their Creator, at the same moment, throughout the
length and breadth of the land. The conception,
apart from its impropriety in a religious point of view,
was a grand one, and strongly illustrative of its author's
character. It was an idea more likely to occur to
an enthusiastic and ardent imagination like that of
Mr. Sheil, than to the more practical mind of Mr.
O'Connell; who again was much more at home in
framing a resolution, or organizing an association, or
holding a meeting, in such a manner as to evade
the law. It was his successful boast that there
was no act of parliament through which he would
not drive a coach-and-six. Mr. Sheil had a poet's
conception of agitation and organization; Mr. O'Con



196          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
nell's was that of a lawyer. Characters more opposed could scarcely have been brought together;
that they harmonized so well, notwithstanding the
many daily causes of instinctive antagonism that,nest
have arisen, is a miracle only to be accounted for by
the influence which a popular movement always exercises on its leaders, so long as they are all pressing
forward toward the same goal.
The Mr. Sheil who now sits and speaks in the HITA!-to
of Commons, who is a right honorable member ot h',~
majesty's privy council, and has been from time tc
time one of the most ornamental, if not quite the mnoset
useful, of the members of the Whig cabinet, is, however, a very different personage, indeed, froni thte
young, enthusiastic Irishman, barrister, poet, ora tor,
agitator, whose fiery spirit fused into one silver',:,'v
of brilliant eloquence so many pure elements of deniiocratic power. Except at intervals, when the old habit
recurs, or when some tempting opportuuity presents
itself to urge the wrongs of Ireland without compromisinghis new associates, Mr. Sheil is one of the most quiet,
silent, unobtrusive members of the House of Commons. Indeed, he has become so identified with the
Whigs, that you scarcely remember him even as an
Irishman, still less as one of those who, for so many
years, defied the whole parliamentary power of the
empire. He has of late years thrown himself almost
entirely into the conventionalities of the House of
Commons, and has undergone mutation from a popular
leader into a partisan. This is said in no spirit of disparagement; on the contrary, however ", Young Ireland" may affect to scorn such apparent lukewarmness
and subservience to circumstances, it is really one of
Mr. Sheil's most solid claims to our respect. Nor is
his oratorical power diminished when, on occasion, he
deigns to resort to it. On several occasions he has
delivered speeches on great questions, not affecting




MR. SHEIL.                197
Ireland alone, but the whole empire, which for vigor,
beauty of imagery, boldness of conception, and sarcastic power, will vie with the best of those made in the
very heat and fervor of his patriotism. It is not that
his strength is diminished, but that it is more under
the regulation of his taste and judgment.
Some of the speeches-harangues they would bear
to be called-made by Mr. Sheil at the meetings of'the Roman Catholic Association, will bear comparison
with the most memorable ever called forth by the
spirit of democracy. Almost from the first day he
appeared on the platform of the Association, the attention of the political world, indeed of all thinking
men, was fixed upon him. Those who could not be
present to witness the powerful aid lent to his burning words by his striking and original action, still saw
unquestionable genius in the exquisite language, the
novel metaphors, so bold yet so well controlled, the
forcible antithesis, the luxuriant imagery, the unapproachable sarcastic power, and, above all, in an irrepressible spirit of patriotism, and indignant sense of
insulted national honor, that bore onward the stream
of his thoughts with a wild and reckless abandonment,
perilous at every fall, yet, torrent-like, free again at a
fiesh bound, and rushing far away. in flashing beauty.
By the side of the deep, steady current of Mr. O'Connell's eloquence, slow moving like a mighty river, the
rapid flow of Mr. Sheil's pure, clear, political diction,
gave a delightful and refieshing relief to the mind.
Take up the proceedings of those meetings, and the
very sentences, so short and exquisitely framed, seem
as it were to gleam and glitter. Never was sedition
clothed in more seductive language, or democratic
principles made more fascinating to the most fastidious
intellect. In his strong conviction of the justice of his
cause, he would certainly at times broach doctrines as
to the means to be employed, which it required all the




198          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
moral weight of Mr. O'Connell and his timorous prudence to counteract. But if the fiery and impetuous
young advocate of a people was sometimes thus hurried on by the ardor of his imagination to lengths
which his calmer judgment would have hesitated to
confront, it was so clearly only the irrepressible enthusiasm of the poet-agitator, not the significant ap —
peal of the designing demagogue, that the poison of
the thought had its antidote along with it in the chose sn
and beautiful words through which it was conveyed.
But, with all their faults, and in spite of the meager
and imperfect reports of them which appeared in the
newspapers and the published proceedings of the rf.o
man Catholic Association, those speeches spread thLt
reputation of Mr. Sheil far and wide, wherever publ;ic
opinion was aroused on the Roman Cath~cic questiow
-a question which to the opponents as well as to thib
supporters of the Roman Catholic claims, was growing to be one of the most vital importance. Their
faults were, indeed, many. The politician might be
able to find excuses in the singular position of the then
leaders of the Irish people, and the momentous nathre and exciting interest of the contest, for the occasional bursts of anti-English feeling, the exultation over
English faults and follies, the unconstitutional tone of
many of those orations, by which the suppressed hatreds
of centuries were arrayed against the comparatively innocent statesmen and people of a single age; the
poisoned arrows of the rash rhetorician might rebound
from the mail of principle in which the Protestant legislator encased himself, confident in its strength against
all but the artillery of popular enthusiasm poured in
by the more crafty and designing genius of O'Connell: but the citric, fastidious in eloquence, could not
forgive in one whose genius he was compelled to admire, the frequent violations of good taste which the
rising orator had not then learned to avoid-the use,




MR. SHEIL.                199
without selection or abstinence, of metaphors, whose
extravagance could not be excused, however their
boldness might be felt or their force acknowledged,
and sacrifice to political passions of the symmetry
and poetical harmony of what, but for those errors
of a luxuriant fancy, might have been grand models of oratorical perfection for all time, each, for
its eloquent history of national wrongs, an epic, not
spoken only to listening thousands, but recorded as
at once a delight and a warning to millions yet to
come. And, indeed, we do not overrate the political
value of those speeches while thus looking back at
their faults. Time has obliterated their immediate
effects: there are not many who remember to have
heard them; and of the multitudes who read them
and felt their power at the time they were delivered,
the majority have forgotten, in the excitement of subsequent contests, the great moral influence which
they once exercised. But history is already recording their results, and, happily for his own fame and
for the gratification of his countrymen, he who delivered them is yet strong, ay, still stronger in those
powers which he possesses in such rare perfection,
toned down and chastened as they now are in their
exercise by increased intercourse with mankind, and
the natural effect which time and the absence of
all causes of excitement have produced on an ardent
and irritable temperament. The speeches to which
we more particularly refer were delivered at intervals
between 1823 and 1829. Bad as the reports of these
speeches are, still their intrinsic worth, their powerful eloquence, and exquisite beauty, make themselves felt through ever so debased a medium. Perhaps the most remarkable of his speeches-the most
original and characteristic of his peculiar mind-were
those he made at the different aggregate meetings of
the Roman Catholics, which took place at intervals




200          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
during the agitation for emancipation. Then he had
a wider field and a more inspiring audience than even
at the meetings of the Association; for, at the latter,
the cautious spirit of O'Connell prevailed almost without restraint; the jealous eye of the government
watched, with lynx-like precision, every movement of
so dangerous an organization; and even the enthusiasm and valorous fancy of a Sheil were restrained
within the limits of a technical construction of the liberty of public speech. But the aggregate meetings
were more a matter of open, public, constitutional right,
and there the enthusiastic and indignant orator reveled in the wild freedom of conscious power and irresistible impulse. The full force and beauty of those
speeches can now scarcely be appreciated but by those
who were so fortunate as to hear them. They left
an impression which has never been effaced by even
the more perfect and chastened productions of the
maturer mind of the orator. One of his greatest triumphs was on the occasion of that miracle-morally,
still more than politically, a miracle-the Clare election. Nor should we forget to mention, among his
great orations, his speech at a great meeting (at Carlow, if we remember rightly), where, taking the first
chapter of Exodus for his theme, and with the Bible
in his hand, he quoted, with a solemnity and effect
electrical on the sympathies of a religious and enthusiastic people, the words of the inspired writer, and
founded on them an impassioned appeal to his countrymen to persevere in their career-to press onward
to the goal appointed for them, heedless of the fears
of the timid or the suggestions of the compromising.
Words are inadequate to convey the effect of this
speech; nor was the speech one of words only; it
was the action, the fine harmony between the thoughts
and the expression, when the feelings were wrought
up to the highest pitch of tension in the enthusiasm




MR. SHEIL.                201
inspired by the cause, and the sympathy of the mnultitude around; all these drew forth the hidden strength
of his nature, till he poured forth the full force of his
fervid soul into his solemn theme.
A very short period found him in the House of
Commons. As soon as the Emancipation-bill qualified
him, as a Roman Catholic, to sit, his ambition, or the
tactics of the Association, led to his being put forward
for the county of Louth. He was unsuccessful; and
was ultimately content to slip into parliament for a
nomination borough-that of Milburne Port. In 1831,
on the 21st of March, he made his first speech in the
House of Commons, on the second reading of the
Reform-bill. He had not long proceeded with his
address ere the House perceived, and acknowledged
by their cheers, that they had in him, as in Mr. Macaulay, a mine of oratorical wealth, and a perpetual
source of the highest gratification. His reputation
for power and originality as a speaker had preceded
him: and the utmost anxiety was manifested to hear
his maiden essay. In this respect he was differently
situated from his eloquent rival. From Mr. Sheil, all
men expected much; Mr. Macaulay's powers, except,
of course, as an essayist, were known only to a comparatively few of his personal friends, and those who
had been his cotemporaries at Cambridge. If he
therefore made, by comparison, a more brilliant speech,
and achieved a more complete triumph, great allowance must be made for surprise. Mr. Shell, notwithstanding the extravagant expectations formed of him,
also achieved a triumph; but it took him a longer time
to acquire his absolute ascendency as an orator. People, too, were always afraid that his nationality, which
had been so useful in the agitation, would every now
and then break out in some anti-English demonstration.
But Mr. Sheil showed himself almost as great a




202           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
tactician as he was a rhetorician. The war over and the
victory won, he buried the sword and forbore to exult
over the vanquished. Throughout his subsequent parliamentary career, he has identifiedhimself with an English
party; and while still advocating, with eloquence as
energetic but more chastened, the,wrongs" of Ireland, he has never run counter to the feelings of the
English as a nation. In this respect he differs from
Mr. O'Connell and the parti pretre as much as from,, Young Ireland" or the party republican. Gratitude
for emancipation made him, together with the new
Irish Catholic members, vote with the mass of the
English people on the Reform question.  That gratitude has never died within him. The penal laws on
the Roman Catholics he conceived to be the real
badge of national subjugation; those once abrogated,
he considered himself one of the people of the British
empire, and while still urging on parliament the gradual fulfillment of the contract of 1829, in what he would
call its spirit as well as its letter, he never forgot that
justice to England was quite as sacred a duty as justice
to Ireland: not so all his friends.
This tact and abstinence in Mr. Sheil very materially
lessen the difficulty of criticising the speeches he made
in parliament. If they are ever disfigured, it is not
by wrong sentiment or the undue infusion of political
feeling: their blemishes are obvious only in a critical
point of view, and are at the same time so entirely
counterbalanced by their beauties, that they might bh
passed over, were it not that their exposure miglit
possibly prevent a very seductive example being followed by others. It should be added, too, that our
remarks apply to Mr. Sheil's speeches as delivered,
not as printed in the newspapers. From the extraordinary rapidity of his utterance, and the abrupt transitions of voice in which his enthusiasm and ardor
lead him to indulge, even the most experienced re



MR. SHEIL.                203
porters find a difficulty in rendering his speeches with
perfect fidelity and freedom. It is obvious that an
orator whose beauties of style depend so much upon
the most slight and evanescent touches, the nicest
discrimination of language, the artful collocation of
words and sentences, so as to make emphasis supply
in many cases the thought which parliamentary custom will not permit to be expressed in words, must
suffer irrevocable damage, if in the process of transmutation the fine aroma is lost, or the exquisite tints and
shades confounded in a general flatness and tameness
of coloring. Nor is the case mended when he afterward writes his own speeches. He then falls into
nearly the same error.  The heat of his mind has
cooled, and he can not so speedily reproduce it.
Sometimes an intelligent and able reporter will produce a better version than his own.
An analysis of Mr. Sheil's speeches would show
them to be in the highest degree artificial. It is his
object to produce, by the most elaborate selection of
themes, the most chosen forms of phrase, and the
most refined art in their arrangement, the same effect
which the spontaneous efforts of an earnest orator
would have had in the highest powers always at command. Mr. Sheil speaks but seldom, and takes much
time to prepare his speeches, which, though delivered
with all the air of passion and abandonment which the
enthusiasm of the moment might be supposed to inspire, are studied even in the most minute particulars,
-in the words chosen, the contrasts of ideas and
imagery, the tone of voice, the very gesture.  This
preparation may not extend, perhaps, to every part of
the speech: in the level portions, or in those allusions
which are called forth by what has happened during
the debate, he trusts in a great measure to the imnpulse or the judgment of the moment, though even
nere you may every now and then detect a phrase or




204          ORATORS OF TIlE AGE.
a thought which smells of the lamp; but the great
passages of the speech-those which the world afterward admires, and which, in fact, form the foundation
of the fame of the orator-these are hewn, chiseled,
and polished with all the tender care of a sculptor,
rehearsed with all their possible effects, and kept in
reserve until the moment when they may be incorporated, in all their brilliancy and perfection, with the
less conspicuous parts, where they shine forth resplendently, like bright gems in a dull setting. It is
in rhetoric and sarcasm that he is most distinguished.
As a rhetorician he is almost perfect. No man whom
this generation has ever heard speak equals him in the
power with which he works out an idea, an argument,
or an illustration, so as to make it carry all the force
and weight of which it can possibly be made capable;
and this, although it is really the result of such art,
is done by means apparently so simple that the hearer's mind is unconsciously captivated.  A  happy
adaptation of some common thought, an infusion of
nervous metaphor, which gives a coloring to a whole
passage without leaving open any point tangible to
opposition; delicate antithesis, the more effective from
its not appearing forced;-these are among the many
arts which Mr. Sheil uses to insinuate his views and
feelings into the mind, while avoiding the appearance
of making a deliberate assault, or laying himself out to
entrap or to persuade. Occasionally there are bursts of
passionate eloquence, which it requires all your skepticism to make you believe are not the warm outpourings of an excited mind: but so you may say of a
Kemble or a Macready. In his speeches on Irish
subjects especially this apparent sincerity is most conspicuous. His heart always appears to be in his appeals to the English nation on behalf of his country;
and no doubt at many times he must fling off his habits
of preparation, and give rein to his feelings or his




MR. SHEIL.                205
imagination.  In speaking of Ireland, he personifies
her-talks of her and her wrongs as he would of some
lovely and injured woman, whose cause he was espousing. Sometimes his propensity to personify runs
him into extremes.  Speaking of the address for a
Coercion-bill in 1833, he characterized it as one " which
struck Ireland dumb, and clapped a padlock on her
lips; though it never could stop the throbbing of her
big and indignant heart!" One of his most remarkable
and beautiful outbursts of nationality was in 1837, in
his celebrated attack on Lord Lyndhurst for his, alien"
speech. Alluding to the alledged charge that the Irish
were aliens in blood and religion, he delivered this
magnificent burst: —, Where was Arthur, Duke of Wellington, when
those words were uttered? Methinks he should have
started up to disclaim them.'The battles, seiges, fortunes that he'd pass'd,'
ought to have come back upon him. He ought to have
remembered that, from the earliest achievement in
which he displayed that military genius which has
placed him foremost in the annals of modern warfare,
down to that last and surpassing combat which has made
his name imperishable-from Assaye to Waterloo-the
Irish soldiers with whom your armies were filled,
were the inseparable auxiliaries to the glory with
which his unparalleled successes have been crowned.
Whose were the athletic arms that drove your bayonets at Vimiera through the phalanxes that never
reeled in the shock of war before? What desperate
valor climbed the steeps and filled the moats of Badajos? All, all his victories should have rushed and
crowded back upon his memory-Vimiera, Badajos,
Salamanca, Albuera, Toulouse-and, last of all, the
greatest. Tell me, for you were there —I appeal to
the gallant soldier before me (pointing to Sir Henry




206          ORATORS OF TlHE AGE.
Hardinge), who bears, I know, a generous heart in an
intrepid breast-tell me, for you must needs remember, on that day when the destinies of mankind were
trembling in the balance, while death fell in showers
upon them; when the artillery of France, leveled
with the precision of the most deadly science, played
upon them; when her legions, incited by the voice,
inspired by the example of their mighty leader, rushed
again and again to the contest;-tell me if, for an instant (when to hesitate for an instant was to be lost),
the Ialiens' blanched?  And when, at length, the moment for the last decisive movement had arrived; when
the valor so long wisely checked, was at last let loose;
when, with words familiar but immortal, the great
captain exclaimed,'Up, lads, and at them!'-tell me
if Catholic Ireland with less heroic valor than the natives of your own glorious isle precipitated herself
upon the foe! The blood of England, Scotland, Ireland, flowed in the same stream, on the same field;
when the chill morning dawned, their dead lay cold
and stark together; in the same deep pit their bodies
were deposited; the green arm of spring is now breaking on their commingled dust; the dew falls fiom
heaven upon their union in the grave. Partakers in
every peril, in the glory shall we not participate?
And shall we be told, as a requital, that we are estranged from the noble country for whose salvation
our life-blood was poured out?"
The effect produced by this passage will not be
easily forgotten. The passionate vehemence of the
speaker and the mournful music of his voice were a living
echo to the deep emotions with which his soul seemed
charged. Lord Lyndhurst was in the House at the
time, and although conscious that the whole passage
was only a beautiful phantasmagoria raised by the art
of the rhetorician, still he could not but admire. It
would seem invidious to attempt to neutralize so fine a




MR. SHEIL.                207
burst of feeling, but a few words of truth will go far to
do it: it unfortunately happens that Mr. Sheil himself, in a speech at the Roman Catholic Association in
January, 1823, laid down in distinct and unequivocal
terms the very same doctrine-that the Irish were
aliens-for giving currency to which he so successfully
assailed Lord Lyndhurst with the keen arrows of his
oblivious passion.
Metaphor and antithesis are the chief agents he
uses in his speeches. Sometimes the latter is exquisitely perfect; sometimes, on the other hand, labored
and clumsy, and so forced as to defeat itself. Too
often he is run away with by the seduction of this
pleasing but mechanical mode of pointing thoughts, to
the manifest injury and weakening of his argument, or
of the general tone he wishes to convey. Then you
see that he is only the orator, the sentence-maker, the
painter of brilliant pictures; that he wishes his triumphs to be more over the passions or the imagination
than over the reason or the judgment. His style has
other defects akin to these. For instance, he will
often sacrifice the real strength of a phrase, and endanger the success of the thought or argument it conveys, led away by the seductive sound of some word
or words rhythmically pleasing in combination, but the
application of which in such a manner the judgment
rejects; and he will also lose the force and beauty of
real antithesis in the glitter or the novelty of its false
counterpart. For an odd paradoxical phrase he will
risk the simplicity and truth of a sentence. Speaking
of the Whig Tithe-bill, he exclaimed, ", Tithes are to
be abolished. How? By providing for them a sepulcher, from which they are to rise in an immortal resuscitation!"  This is an abuse of language. His metaphors are bold and striking. Among many brilliant
things in his speeches against Lord Stanley, he said,,, The people of Ireland behold the pinnacles of the




208          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Establishment shattered by the lightning of Grattan's
eloquence."
He excels in sarcastic humor, which is generally
conveyed in the most delicate touches. He is like
Lord Lyndhurst in the apparent ease and artlessness
with which he infuses the most keen and cutting allusions, by the addition of a word or the turn of a sentence in the midst of the most level argument. He
seldom makes a " dead set" at his victim, like Lord
Brougham, and he therefore produces the more effect.
Some of his smartest hits of this kind were at Lord
Stanley. It was he who spoke of that minister as
", the then Secretary-at-war with Ireland;" and, when
alluding to Sir James Graham in council with the noble lord, he spoke of them as ",Lord Stanley and his
confederate." On another occasion, speaking of ",divine service," as referred to in act of parliament, he
jetted in a parenthesis (,, Divine is an alias for Protestant") well understood by Roman Catholics, and
having as much force as twenty elaborate speeches.
He is not very reverent in his jokes. Alluding to the
Temporalities-act, he observed that ", Lord Stanley
had struck off ten bishops at one blow: he blew off
ten mitres from the head of the hierarchy at a single
puff." If he can make a witty point or shape a felicitous phrase, no fastidiousness of taste or delicacy of feeling restrains him from wreaking his wit on an antagonist.
There are several instances on record where it has
done this toward individuals, though never in an ill-natured or spiteful spirit. He is equally liberal in his
sarcastic allusions to classes or bodies of men, and not
more delicate. We remember an instance, in one of
his speeches, which illustrates this peculiarity in his
style: he had been drawing a somewhat glowing and
overcharged picture of the good results to ensue from
church reform, and he summed them up in terms
of characteristic power, and of a degree of coarseness




MR. SHEIL.                209
not often met with in his speeches. He said, as a climax to his anticipations of good, that when these reforms should have been effected,', the bloated paunch
of the unwieldly rector would no longer heave in holy
magnitude beside the shrinking abdomen of the starving and miserably prolific curate."
Sometimes his sarcasm on individuals is really searing, sometimes playfully severe. We remember an
amusing instance of the latter:-One day, at the Catholic Association, a volunteer patriot (a Mr. Addis, we
believe) came forward and made a very strong speech,
more remarkable for enthusiasm than prudence, in
which he offered if necessary, to lay his head on the
block in the cause of Ireland. His address was rather
a dangerous one to those whom he professed to serve,
as the crown lawyers were at that time more than
usually on the alert. Mr. Sheil desired publicly to
counteract the possible mischief; he rose, and, with
his peculiar sarcastic emphasis, observed, ", The honorable gentleman has just made us an oblation of his
head; he has accompanied his offer with abundant
evidence of the value of the sacrifice." Columns of
abuse from Mr. O'Connell would not have proved half
so effective as this quiet rebuke.
But we must draw these observations to a close.
The characteristics and defects of his speeches have
been more dwelt upon, because his eccentricities of
delivery have been frequently and powerfully described.
There is a striking correspondence between his personal peculiarities and the leading features of his
speeches. He is unique as an orator. There is a hart
mony between the outer and inner man which you do
not find in others-for instance, in Mr. Macaulay.
Having read his speeches, if you see him, you are not
surprised to find that it was from him that they proceeded. Small in stature, delicately formed, with a
strongly marked countenance full of expression, he
0




210           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
looks the man of genius, and betrays in every motion
that impulsive temperament on which excitement acts
like a whirlwind. He seems " of imagination all compact." - You see the body, but you think of the mind.
It is embodied passion, thought, fancy-not mere organized matter. ", Look! what comes here? —a grave
unto a soul, holding the eternal spirit against its will!"
you are tempted to exclaim with the poet, who of all
others could have appreciated such rare products of
Nature's love-labor, such unusual blendings of the spiritual and the material. Yet there is nothing of the
beautiful in a physical sense, little of that personal perfection or refinement which made a Byron or a Shelley
so loved or worshiped by their intimates. The charm
of Mr. Sheil's appearance consists in the striking and
powerful development of intellect-in the quick reflex
of thought in the features, the mobility of body, the
firm grasp, as it were, which is taken by the mind of
the: corporeal frame, making it the ready and obedient
slave of its slightest and most sudden will. Thoroughly
masculine in moral strength, in the intensity of his feelings, and the strong power with which he impresses
them on others, Mr. Sheil has also all the femineity
which we attach to our idea of the poetical temperament, though it shows itself not in personal delicacy or
symmetry so much as in a supreme and serene control
over the body by the spirit. There is more of Edmund Kean than of Shelley in this transparency of the
corporeal man to the intellectual light within. The
present writer has elsewhere said, speaking of Mr.
Sheil's personal appearance:
", Small in stature and make, like so many men of
genius, he bears the marks of a delicate organization.
The defects of a figure not disproportioned, and yet
not strictly symmetrical, are overlooked in the play of
the all-informing mind, which keeps the frame and
limbs in rapid and harmonious motion when in action.




MR. SHEIL..               211
T.J4e body, though so small in itself, is surmounted by a
~lad which lends it dignity-a head, though proportionately small in size, yet so full of intellectual development, so wide-browed, that, while it seems large in
itself, it raises the apparent stature of the wiry frame
on which it rests. The forehead is broad and prominent, but, at first sight, it rather contradicts the usual
development of the intellectual; though really deep
and high, it seems to overhang the brow. Under it
gleams an eye, piercing and restless even in the repose
of the mind, but indescribably bright and deep-meaning
when excited. The mouth, small, sharp,-the lips
chiseled fine, till, under the influence of passion, they
are almost transparent like a shell-is a quick ally in
giving point and meaning to the subtilest ideas of the
ever active brain; apt in its Kean-like expression, alike
of the withering sarcasm, the delicate irony, or the
overwhelming burst of sincere and passionate vehemence. The features, generally, are small, but, under
the influence of ennobling emotion, they seem to expand, until, at times, they look grand, almost heroic.
Yet when the baser passions obtain the mastery over
this child of impulse-as they will, sometimes, over the
best in the heat of party warfare-these features, so
capable of giving expression to all that elevates our
moral and intellectual nature, become contracted-the
paleness of concentrated passion overspreads them.
Instead of the eloquent earnestness of high-wrought
feeling, you see (but this is rare indeed) the gloating
hue of suppressed rage, the tremulous restraint of cautious spite. In place of the dilated eye, and features
flushed with noble elevation of soul, or conscious pride
of intellectual power, you have a keen, piercing, adderlike glance, withering, fascinating, but no longer beautiful. Yet the intellect, though for a time the slave of
passion, is the intellect still."
His peculiar style of eloquence, his rapidity of utter



212           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
ance, variety and impressiveness of action, and harmonious tones of voice-now deep and richly melodious in
the expression of solemn emotion, now loud and piercing in the excitement of passion-almost defy description. Imagine all the beauties of Kean's performance
of Othello crowded into half-an-hour's highly sustained
eloquence, and you have some tangible idea of what is
the effect. While the impulse is upon him he seems
as if possessed, his nature is stirred to its very depths,
the fountains of his soul pour forth unceasingly the living waters. His head glows like a ball of fire, the soul
struggles through every outlet of expression. His
arms, now raised aloft, as if in imprecation, are, in a
moment, extended downward, as if in supplication, the
clenched fingers clasped like those of one in strong agony. Anon, and the small, thin, delicate, wiry hand is
stretched forth, the face assumes an expression the
very ideal of the sarcastic, and the finger of scorn is
pointed toward the object of attack. A thousand varying expressions, each powerful and all-beautiful, are
crowded into the brief time during which his excitement (which, like that of actors, though prepared, is
genuine while it lasts) hurries him on to pour forth his
whole soul in language of such elegance and force.
Mr. Sheil occupies a position different from that of
most of his countrymen in Parliament. The Irish
member who most approaches him in intellectual qualities, though not in actual eloquence, is Mr. Wyse.
Like Mr. Wyse, he has associated himself with the
Whig party, who chose him to be one of their ministers when they desired to fraternize with the Irish
Catholics, because he was at once talented, moderate,
and respectable. For joining them he was made the
subject of virulent abuse by the extreme party in Ireland, but he has too much steadiness of purpose and
good sense to be much affected by it. His position in
the House is well earned, not merely by his elo



MR. SHEIL.                213
quence, but also by the general amenity of his disposition, whether as a politician or a private individual. Were all the Irish members like Mr. Sheil, the
Irish question might be speedily and satisfactorily
settled.




LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.
LORD GEORGE BENTINCK is quite a phenomenon in
politics. Fifteen years ago, when he, as the phrase
goes, ", broke down" in the House of Commons, he was
supposed to be extinguished as a public man. During
the long interval between the year 1831 and the early
part of the session of 1846, when he suddenly set lance
in rest against Sir Robert Peel, he was so quiescent
in the House of Commons as to be scarcely remembered except by those who industriously search the
division-lists; nor was he ever heard of, save on one
or two occasions when subjects connected with the
laws on gaming came before parliament, until within
the last few months. But the great crisis on the Cornlaw question forced him, together with so many other
earnest and high-minded men, out of his seclusion,
and, perhaps, his native strength has only shown itself
the more because it has been left to its own rough and
natural development, not enervated by the habit of
parliamentary training. If the simile be a stale one,
it is not the less applicable, when we say that he is quite
a phoenix, though no one would have predicted in 1831,
or at any period since, that he would ever rise into
eminence as a politician.
Lord George Bentinck belongs to the class of men
who have greatness thrust upon them. It is probable,
that up to within a week of his being chosen as the
leader of the Protectionists in parliament, he had not
the most remote idea of ever taking a prominent part




ORATORS OF THE AGE.            215
in the debates on the Corn-bill, much less of being the
head of a party, with a remote prospect of a place in
the government of the country.. His previous habits
and pursuits, no less than the tendency of his mind,
and his indifference to political passions and influences,
had unfitted him for such a position. We will venture
to say, that astonished as the whole House of Commons was when it was discovered that the mantle of
leadership had fallen on him; no one wondered at it
more than the noble lord himself. In their first bewilderment at the desertion of their acknowledged
leaders, the Protectionist or country party knew not
where to turn for substitutes. ", Young England" offered itself; but good intentions unaccompanied by knowledge of mankind, and that ",crooked wisdom" which
weighs in politics, were not enough for a party in such
sudden straits as the agriculturists were then in.
Lord John Manners exhibited talents which promised
to develop one day into a genius for philosophic
statesmanship: but the subjects involved in the Cornlaw struggle were uncongenial to his mind. Mr.
Stafford O'Brien, till then only known as a sort of amiable pedant in politics, a doctrinaire of a somewhat
dogmatic school, made one brilliant speech, for which
Sir Robert Peel in vain endeavored to bribe him to
his side by praise and flattery; but after that effort, tllthough, tempted strongly to press forward, he declined
to vault into the vacant saddle. Mr. Disraeli had long
astonished the House by his powerful philippics, his
concentrated sarcasms againstthe premier; all acknowledged his talent as a debater, and listened to his speeches with a keen interest and eager anticipation theretofore only accorded to the first men in parliament: but
in his case it was felt that an intemperate and vindictive hostility to an individual was a bad guaranty for
the expectant trustee of the interests of a party; that
it was probable he would rather promote his own per



216          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
sonal cause than that of'his followers. He was admitted to be invaluable as an ally, but his claims to be a
leader were set aside. At this crisis it was that Lord
George Bentinck was suddenly chosen to head the opposition to Sir Robert Peel in the House of Commons. Position and talent combined to elevate him to this proud
position. It was necessary that the man who was to
be, for however brief a period, the leader of the landed
aristocracy, or, at least, a great part of them, should
have hereditary associations with the landed interest.
Mere ability as a debater, or mere steadfastness and
earnestness of character, would not alone qualify for
the leadership. An unusual combination of those qualities, allied, moreover, to tact, sagacity, and knowledge
of mankind, was required for the post; and that combination the different heads of the country party seemed by common consent to.ascribe to Lord George Bentinck. His antecedents partly favored the belief, and
partly contradicted it. He had been for many years
in parliament, a silent observer of all political events,
as far as the House of Commons was concerned, but
privately mixed up as a partisan with the leading members of the Conservative party, who had many and
frequent means of ascertaining and testing the sterling qualities of his character.  He had also, as he
has himself stated in parliament, been private secretary to Mr. Canning; and it was well known that that
distinguished man held him in very high esteem, believing that he was capable of great distinction in the
political world, if a constitutional indolence did not prevent him from exerting himself. On the other hand,
his well known devotion to uncongenial pursuits, and
the notoriety he had acquired in the sporting world,
exposed him to some ridicule when he stepped forward
as a leader, and made his chances of success appear to
be so much the less. But he did not thrust himself forward; he was in a manner forced into the front rank




LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.           217
Having once accepted the honorable but onerous
task, from that hour he devoted himself to it, body and
mind. No exertion, no application was considered by
him too great, if the result of it would be to render
him more fit for his task.
Had the question in dispute been more of a mere
party question-had it, for instance, been such a question as that of Emancipation, where appeals to a political honor and denunciations of ministerial treachery
would have formed the staple of the speeches to be
delivered, and when the tactics of management would
be almost confined to mere resistance, the sudden acceptance of the leadership would not have involved so
much mental responsibility. But in the case in question, the position of a new leader was quite different.
The combined knowledge of the statesman and the
political economist had to be brought to bear on a
question abounding in statistics of the most varied kind,
statistics changing with almost every week; and this
in the face of watchful and able opponents on both
sides of the House, as well those who had been engaged during their public life in assailing the positions
to be taken up, as those who, having all along defended them, now suddenly abandoned them, and, knowing their weak points, turned that knowledge to advantage. To fill such a post, then, was no slight undertaking for a man like Lord George Bentinck, bred, as
he says, a soldier, who was an active politician only in
what he is pleased to call, in modesty of spirit, the,,humblest office which a political man can fill," and
who for so many years had turned almost his whole
attention to other and less dignified pursuits.
IHis success was signal. The first speech of any
importance he made on the Corn question appeared,
on the face of the newspaper reports, to be a failure.
In the Housq it was no such thing. The noble lord
had an object in protracting his speech, and to accom



218          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
plish that, he sacrificed some of its power and effect.
He did not rise till a late hour, and then continued
speaking for so long a time that the House grew impatient, and much confusion prevailed toward the close
of his address. But in those parts of it which were
heard, and which, in fact, contained the real pith of his
argument, such a striking acquaintance with the complex and extensive facts, and such a power of argument, were exhibited, that the noble lord, prolix as he
was, made a very deep impression on the House. His
very next speech, made under more favorable circumstances, confirmed it; Lord George displayed so accurate and complete a knowledge of his subject, that
even detraction was silent. Opponents were as ready
as his own supporters to admire his displays. They
knew from experience what an amount of application
must have been given in order to enable him to obtain
so thorough a mastery over so difficult a subject.
Lord George Bentinck, as may be supposed, has not
attained, or even approximated to perfection as an orator. He was too much preoccupied with his subject
to be able to strike out any new style of oratory for
himself; it was enough to be able to deliver his speech
with an average ability. So he trusted to old, timehonored forms in action, intonation, and delivery-forms
long since abandoned by all but a few members of
either House, and which, like cast-off habits, have
traveled down through different classes, till they now
dignify and embellish that kind of eloquence which one
hears after dinner at the London Tavern. It is singular to notice how the infusion of the popular and
mercantile element into the representative system has
affected the oratory as well as the opinions and votes
in parliament. Until within the last twenty years or
so, gentlemen intended for public life were regularly
trained for public speaking; a course under the elocution-master was deemed essential to an aspirant for




LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.            219
honors. The consequence was, that the general characteristics of public speakers were very similar. A
tediously slow delivery, extreme pomposity, verbosity,
and monotony, action in what has been termed the
", pump-handle" style, marked them all, and may still
be found in great perfection in many whose old-fashioned oratory defies and survives innovation. The crowning virtue of this style in the eyes of its professors
seems to be to end every sentence intended to be emphatic with a sudden jerk and a twang. Lord George
Bentinck fell naturally into this style when he first began his recent opposition; but conflict and the influence of example have altered his style, even in this
brief space of time. Yet to that which he gradually
abandoned, his aristocratic bearing gave a kind of characteristic interest, well adapted to the subject-matter
on which his speeches were delivered. Taken as a
whole, bearing in mind the noble descent of the speaker, his whole aspect so essentially aristocratic, his
speeches were emphatically a protest from the living
representative of a past generation of statesmen, and
of a code of political morality long since abandoned,
against a new race of statesmen, untried for good, and
suspected of evil. But for some time past, Lord
George Bentinck has adapted his style much more to
the modern tastes of the House of Commons. He
speaks with more brevity and more to the point, and
has got rid of an unpleasant drawling tone and a habit
of hesitation. Fewer statistics and more argument
characterize his politico-economic speeches, while his
purely party or personal displays exhibit a power and vigor not shown in his earlier efforts. In his personal attacks on Sir Robert Peel, he allowed the warmth and
sincerity of his feelings to carry him farther than has
been usual in what Mr. Disraeli called these " mealymouthed" days; but then it should be remembered that
he believes Sir Robert Peel to have acted, politically,




220          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
with unfairness toward one for whom Lord George
entertained the most ardent affection and respect, and
that all men are not so constituted as to be able to
treat politics as a mere game, in which only a kind of
sham feeling is to be allowed to intermingle. Apart
from the question of the propriety of these attacks,
however, the energy and debating power they exhibited show that the noble lord can be, when aroused, a
dangerous antagonist.
Lord George Bentinck's elevation was an accident
of the Anti-Corn-law agitation. Certainly but for the
effect of that agitation he would have continued a silent
member in the House of Commons. It took much to
arouse him from his retirement; but, having been once
set in motion, we should be tempted to predict that he
will hereafter take a distinguished position in political
affairs.




MR. VILLIERS.
ADVOCACY of a repeal of the Corn-laws has been the
one special political hobby of the Honorable Charles
Pelham Villiers-a hobby he rode round the political
arena with that degree of flourish which usually attends hobby-horsemanship, until the real men and
horses of the Anti-Corn-law League came on. the
scene. Year after year he made his formal motion for
repeal of the Corn-laws, and delivered almost the same
speech-at least, the same arguments applied to new
facts-with but little effect upon the House. Some-.times he was ", counted out;" sometimes the matter
was disposed of by a single speech from the government, or latterly from an agricultural member; but at
all times the subject was regarded as a disagreeable
one, not improved by the mode in which the honorable member handled it, and the House was always
as thin as a decent respect for the proprieties would
allow. Even after the League had begun to make a
figure in the House, the annual motion of Mr. Villiers
still was regarded as an annual bore; and when at last
the out-of-doors agitation had invested the subject with
a greater political interest, other and more powerful
speakers commanded the attention of the House, and
Mr. Villiers was, comparatively speaking, lost in the
throng, although still allowed to retain his original position, as the parliamentary organ of the party.
The natural inference is, that a man who would so
long persevere in the advocacy of any particular set of




222           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
opinions, must be sincere in holding them. That. at
least, is the obvious, as well as the most charitable interpretation. But it has long been the practice with
ambitious men who desired to rise in the House of
Commons, to connect themselves with some particular
question, and to attract attention by the pertinacity
with which they enforce their projects or their views
annually on the House. A hundred instances force
themselves on the mind immediately. Now, it did
not require any very great degree of foresight in Mr.
Villiers to see that the subject of the Corn-laws must
one day or other, at no distant period, force itself on
the legislature, and that an advocate on the popular
side could not but in the long run have his reward.
This may account for the singular perseverance of the
honorable member in his difficult, and for a long time
discouraging task.
Perseverance is the characteristic of Mr. Villiers.
There is perseverance in his conduct as a member of
parliament, perseverance in the unique perpetuation
of his arguments during so many years, perseverance
in the energetic monotony of his voice, perseverance,
ay, in his very gait as he moves on, apparently so unmindful of what is passing around him, stooping more
from weight of thought than physical weakness, his
hands crossed behind him, with quick and plodding step.
To this perseverance he mainly owes his public position. It was tantamount to proof that he was in earnest; and, as moral force prevails so much more than
pure reason in modern politics, an earnest man will
always become more or less an influential one.
The importance of Mr. Villiers as a speaker must
be measured by the value of his arguments, for they
derive no additional weight from his mode of delivering them. A man who, as far as politics are concerned,
has devoted his whole energies to one subject, could
scarcely fail to make himself master of it. This has




MR. VILLIERS.              223
been the case of Mr. Villiers. His one idea of freetrade assumed in his mind a prismatic variety of aspects. He turned and twisted it until it would have
been almost impossible to place it in a new point of
view. It is only just to him to say that he differs
from most popular advocates, in this respect-that
while he enforces his convictions vigorously, and with
resolute determination, he does not merely deal in
vague dogmatic assertions, or declamatory violence.
He argues rather than affirms, and appeals rather
than denounces. In his best speeches there has always been considerable logical force. In this respect,
if not in general acquaintance with his subject, he
equals, if sometimes he does not excel, Mr. Cobden.
But all these advantages are neutralized by his mode
of delivery, which is neither stimulating nor dignified.
A hard, grinding, plodding, though forcible monotony
of voice, with a pronunciation the (almost) vulgarity of
which strikes one the more as coming from a man of
noble birth, are not helped by his action and delivery,
both of which are commonplace in the extreme. He
never was nor ever will be a favorite as a speaker,
whether in the House or at public meetings.




-MR. T. MILNER GIBSON.
MR MtILNER GIBsoN owed his elevation to office to
his own unaided talents. He is a fresh and a striking
instance of the practical liberality of our institutions
(however aristocratic may be their superficial aspect),
which makes it almost a matter of certainty that a
man of talent will rise to high offices in the state, if
he have the requisite conduct and perseverance. Mr.
Gibson early displayed parliamentary talents of a high
order, and although his elevation has been more sudden than could have been expected two or three years
ago, it might have been confidently predicted that, if
his ambition lay in the direction of office, it would, at
no very distant period, be gratified.
But the public were scarcely prepared-Mr. Gibson
himself could not have been-to expect that he would
figure in the position of Vice-President of the Board
of Trade under Whig auspices. In no invidious sense
of the term, he may be said to have been an adventurer-a respectable and successful one, but still an
adventurer. Looking back at his career, it does not
seem that he has had any necessary or natural connection with the parties to which he has from time
to time allied himself. He has traded on his talents,
with an aptitude for observing the signs of the times,
and an alacrity in profiting by his knowledge. He had
read and seen enough to know, that even in the times of
purely aristocratic parliaments a good ready speaker
would always make a figure, and that since the infusion




MR. T. MILNER GIBSON.          225
of more popular elements into the representation the
chances of obtaining influence in debate, or over the
public mind out of doors, were very much multiplied,
if the aspirant was in every respect up to the popular
mark. Now Mr. Gibson has always, even from his
first appearance before the public, been able to make,
at will, rattling, telling speeches; sometimes full of
playful irony; sometimes of sound, powerful argument; sometimes of glowing clap-traps, such as captivate the vulgar. He has also that moral pliability, that
happy knack of imitative enthusiasm, which enable
the favorites of the multitude to throw themselves
into any particular movement with well simulated
fervor. Armed to the teeth with argument to suit
any or every party, well provided with the small
change of popular political knowledge, and having at
his full command that sword of peaceful times, the
orator's tongue, he saw in the world of party his ", oys —
ter," which he with that sword hath opened. Not
quite a demagogue, he has been at all times the politician militant, and now he has won the prize, which
was, to say the least, due more to his talents than his
consistency. For his path has been a somewhat tortuous one; in his party alliances he has proved inconstant. In the blaze of his triumphs as a free-trader,
the public were apt to forget that he started in the
House of Commons as a Conservative, if not a Tory;
that he had not been long in parliament, ere he exhibited in his proper person one of the most singular
and startling instances of sudden,ratting" of which
we have any record of late years, at least among men
of no mark as politicians, no long cemented and well
known character with which to play at nine-pins.
For to subordinates it is not given to change tonig
avowed opinions with audacious impunity-to display
that sublime indifference to the law of political rectitude in which more powerful persons may indulge.
P




226          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Mr. Gibson was a bold man to take the step he did
He openly avowed his change, if not of opinions, at
least of policy, and was too honorable, or too calculating, to play the part of traitor in the enemy's
camp. It was at the time universally thought that
his conversion was too sudden to be sincere; it was
incomprehensible how a man, who had not even the
plea of state necessity in his excuse, could, within the
short space of a few months, be an active partisan on
both sides of the question; and there was a dashing
boldness En the address in which he communicated his
intention of changing his side that altogether precluded
the modesty of repentant conviction. One thing was
at once achieved-notoriety. What he might say and
do was ever after looked to with curiosity. This was
a first step to ultimate success.
For some time his inconsistency placed him under a
sort of ban. He was listened to, much as Mr. Disraeli
is listened to, with a reservation of blame on personal
grounds. In his own conduct he oscillated between
Russellism and Radicalism, apparently uncertain which
would prove the better card. All the while he was
gradually effacing the memory of his inconsistency,
and winning his way with the House by his light and
playful style of speaking, he introduced occasionally
displays of argumentative power which showed there
was,, stuff" in him. At length came his opportunity,that which, it is said, is given to every man once in his
lifer The League began to show symptoms of its ultimate popularity and power, and Mr. Gibson, with his
ready ability and popular style of speaking, alike effective in Parliament and with the public, was too desirable an acquisition to be otherwise than highly prized.
With his usual facility he at once threw himself, with
the requisite amount of ardor, into the struggle. He
became one of the most influential of Mr. Cobden's allies, was important enough to be a sort of Tribune



MR. T. MILNER GIBSON.            227
Associate in cases where the chief agitator could not
be present, and now, at last, he is borne easily and triumphantly into office, when the object of the League
has been obtained.
From what has already been said, it will be inferred
that Mr. Milner Gibson is a very agreeable -and able
speaker. Whether he rises to make a mere party attack, or to deliver an argumentative speech, he is equally
happy and effective. If he never does any thing positively brilliant, or that would bear to be remembered
after the immediate excitement has passed away, he
constantly treads on the very borders of first-rate excellence, and he rarely or never fails. One cause of
the effectiveness of his speeches is, that looking at him
you are not prepared to expect so much sterling talent
and power; you do not expect wisdom from boys, or
masculine vigor from women. The small, round,
whiskerless face of Mr. Gibson, handsome even in
features, and still more so in its vivacious expression,
his brilliant eyes, and mouth round which a smile is
ever playing lightly, do not indicate the qualities or the
pursuits of a popular agitator, any more than does his
delicate and feminine (not effeminate) organization.
And the voice, low-toned but clear, harmonious, and
modulated, until it is almost fluty in sound, matches
singularly with the general aspect; his action while
speaking, too, being of the most unassuming, but the
most graceful kind. In the House, except on great
and stirring occasions, he adopts a style which looks
like trifling, but is fatally effective. The tiny arrows
of his wit and humor come in quick volleys; they do
not pierce very deep, but they are infinitely tantalizing.
This youthful, gracious-looking, ladylike gentleman we
have described will rise from among the rough, commonplace men who surround him, and, with a well assumed diffidence and air of drawing-room politeness,
put a question to a minister (of course we speak of




228          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
when he was in the opposition) that seems as if it
would be of the most agreeable, harmless kind, to be
answered with all the facility of a practiced official.
But there runs through the statement which accompanies it a vein of tormenting banter, of sly, sarcastic humor, of assertion or of argument, couched in expostulation, that throws the House into suppressed titters,
and is provoking in the extreme where the person
questioned is personally mixed up, or where official
necessity seals his lips and denies him the right of explanation. They are very hard blows, though they
come from a very soft hand, and from a spirit that
seems to breathe the very essence of bland gentleness.
No fair-lady knight of Ariosto or Boiardo could couch
the lance more gracefully, or direct its point with more
keen and sure precision. And yet when you see Mr.
Gibson at a public meeting, you lose sight of all these
qualities, and find that for argument he is almost equal
to Mr. Cobden himself, and that he can wield at will
the passions of the multitude. Nor in the House is
this playful vein his only, or even his ordinary, resource.
In an argumentative speech he can prove himself a
match for the best men; and he has thoroughly established himself as a good speaker in the opinion of that
very critical body, the House of Commons. Like Lord
Palmerston and Mr. Charles Buller, he combines great
powers of argument with a happy use of ironical humor; if he be not quite equal to either, he strongly resembles both. It remains yet to be seen what sort of
work he will make with the figures; but from his readiness and aptitude in so many different positions, there
is little doubt that he will soon prove himself an effective minister.




MR. WAKLEY.
To Mr. Wakley belongs the honor of having been
the artificer of his own fortunes. Unlike many more
favored competitors in the race, he has had to make
his tools as well as to perform his work. Comparing
his position at the present time with what it was when
he commenced life, the most prejudiced of his political
opponents must admit that the task he has performed
was one of no ordinary difficulty, and that no ordinary
talents were required to accomplish it. Mr. Wakley's
path to notoriety has, it is true, been both a rugged and
a tortuous one. His life has been one continued battle
with foes whom he has called into existence, expressly
that he might have the honor of conquering them.
Looking back to years now distant, we see him in the
very infancy of his reputation, always even from the
first, in a militant attitude toward those around him.
We see him, as it were, in the position of the man,
strong, perhaps, in mind and purpose, and determined
to make his voice heard, who is, nevertheless, hemmed
in at the extreme back of a crowd-struggling long in
vain ere he can catch the ear of the multitude, and
make himself heard above their roar. But, by pushing, and energy, and unscrupulous fighting —aided, too,
by that lurking sympathy which a bold man always excites, even in his opponents, we see this same battling
spirit gradually forcing his way through the mass,
which, the farther he advances, opens the more to let
him pass, until at last the unknown strong man is seen




230          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
proudly taking his place on the platform among the
notables of the hour, and pouring out his passionate
declamation to the many-headed throng; ruling them
now as powerfully by the pure influence of his mind,
as he had but recently coerced them by his determination and physical energy. Such is a remote type of
the public life of Mr. Wakley.
Mr. Wakley, even as a young man and a beginner in
life, seems to have well studied the English character.
He early perceived that for a man who has no precise
standing-who is not put by Fortune into a groove and
pushed on, with an easy momentum, to success-must,
if he wish to rise in the world, begin by making himself notorious. This is an age of publicity. In proportion as the circle of intelligence in society has expanded,
the quality of that intelligence has become depreciated.
There is less discrimination in the public mind, and a
lower order of talent will command success, than when
every new comer on the public arena was subject to
the severe criticism of trained minds and constituted
authorities, and his place was assigned to him at once.
This state of things holds out so great a temptation to
quacks of all kinds, that they resort to every imaginable mode to impose their spurious mental wares upon
mankind. Even real merit is no longer modest, but is
forced, even against its will, into the same courses that
disgrace its more shallow and pretending rivals. We
are not going so far to insult Mr. Wakley as to impute
to him modest merit. Modesty is not one of his distinguishing characteristics: merit, in the sense of
strong thinking powers, sound judgment, tact, and devotion to the interests of the people, he certainly possesses. But he has never been disposed to hide his
light under a bushel. To be talked about for any
thing, provided it was not disgraceful, was, he knew, a
good stepping-stone to something better and more respectable at a future time. Coming up to London




MR. WAKLEY.                231
from Devonshire (where, we may add, his family are
respectable), with his profession chosen, and his way
to make in the world, he seems to have had too much
energy of mind to be content with the slow and plodding process by which a surgeon may, if he is lucky
and does not get crushed at the outset, ultimately secure for himself a respectable maintenance. He rather
sought a royal road to fame and profit. He seemed as
though he had been born to be a reformer and grievance-hunter. No doubt, in the then state of the medical profession, there was great opening for an activeminded man to pull down many who were in the high
places, and set up better men. Exclusiveness in the
distribution of honors, degradation of a large class of
the medical profession, who were daily growing in importance under the influence of altered habits in society,-these, together with individual cases of corruption
and mismanagement, afforded a fine field for a thorough-going revolutionist. Accordingly,,, The Lancet"
was started. The boldness and vigorous venom of its
articles soon attracted universal attention, not merely
in the medical profession, but among the public at
large. As a necessary consequence, its editor and proprietor became an object of interest. His purpose was
gained-he was talked about; thenceforth, whatever
he might do was sure to be made the subject of comment, and a basis was laid for future operations. In
fact, ", The Lancet' was so successful as to become the
foundation, not only of his fame but of his fortune.
The restless and ever active mind of Mr. Wakley,
however, could not long content itself with the comparatively confined sphere of action afforded by the
castigation of medical offenders, or the agitation of medical reforms. Nature seemed almost to have designed
him for a mob-orator: a very few attempts at public
meetings gave him confidence in his own powers; for
although some of his opinions might be unpalatable,




232          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
there was a great attraction for the multitude in his
popular mode of speaking, his boldness, and, above all,
his humor. He seems early to have conceived the idea
of attaining distinction in the political world, though to
what object it was to lead, or in what way popularity
with the multitude was to advance his fortunes, he does
not appear, at this time, to have very clearly marked out
for himself. Nay, even to this hour, and with the advantage of retrospection to guide one, it is utterly impossible to determine, with any certainty, the goal of his
hopes. He rather seems to have been impelled forward by a natural energy and impulsive temperament,
and we would, in all charity, give him credit for a sincere
belief, that by persevering in the exposure of political
abuses he might be of permanent service to his fellowcountrymen. Whatever his motives or his objects,
certain it is, that he threw himself, with all the determined energy of the English character, into those questions which agitated the public mind immediately before
and after the settlement of the Reform question. As is
usual with adventurers who wait upon Providence to indicate the particular course they are to steer, he avowed himself a thorough Radical Reformer. Without
being a Chartist, he pushed ultra-liberal opinions to
their extreme verge. Such a man, possessed as he
was, of shrewdness, tact, eloquence, and the command
of the popular ear, was of great use to the more aristocratic agitators of that day, although they, in their
cautious exclusiveness, affected to consider him a very
dangerous person. But Mr. Wakley was not a man
to be pooh-poohed or sneered into subservience. Such
as his course was, it was of his own choosing; and he
held his own. With such talents for mob-leadership,
it was natural that in those days of political license,
when even members of the aristocracy were tampering
with questions which are now considered fraught with
danger to the constitution, he should soon obtain a spe



MR. WAKI.EY.              233
cies of portable power in the shape of reputation and
notoriety, which might be made subservient to designs
upon some congenial constituency.  Among other
things, he started a newspaper advocating and called,r The Ballot.", When, soon afterward, he aspired to
the honor of a seat in parliament, we can well remember the utter disdain and contempt with which his
pretensions were, in the first instance, regarded. He
was looked upon as a vulgar, noisy, troublesome demagogue, with a tainted character and a reputation none
of the highest, who had made his position by wholesale calumnies on distinguished members of the medical profession, and had been more known, up to a recent period, as a defendant to actions for libel, than in
any honorable career. The idea of his ever being
able to take a respectable position in parliament, or
even of his being endured in that aristocratic assembly,
the House of Commons, except as a sort of coarse
mountebank like Henry Hunt, was scouted as absurd.
But after two failures in Finsbury (in 1832 and 1834),
he came in triumphantly in 1835. Thus, by dint of
perseverance, puffing, public speaking, and continual
notoriety, did this active-minded man, without friends,
without introduction, without fortune, and in spite of
the prejudice against people who come from nobody
knows where, raise himself from comparative insignificance into a position which, in theory at least, is one
of which he may be honorably proud.
Mr. Wakley had not been long in parliament before
he exhibited a demeanor totally the reverse of what
was expected from him. He very agreeably disappointed even his friends, while his enemies, who had
predicted a failure, were quite confounded. One of
Mr. Wakley's chief characteristics is tact. If it was
his real nature that exhibited itself when he was fighting his way, sword in hand, up to the front rank, so
much the greater is his merit that he was able to tame




234          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
and subdue it when he got into parliament. Now and
then, to be sure, a dash of the old spirit would show
itself in the heat of debapte, or on some topics which.
roused the latent independence of his character. He
would blurt out strange, unpalatable truths to ears
attuned to courteous fictions. He would, once and
again, forget that he was no longer addressing a Finsbury mob, and would use the cudgel where the broadsword or the rapier are the more customary weapons.
But with such rare exceptions, it was singular to see
how soon and how well he schooled his mind for its
new duties. He studied his men, and adapted his conduct to the results of his observation. For a long time
he was only tolerated.  He seemed to be regarded
much in the light of those wild animals, in which, although they are tamed, the savage nature is believed still
to lurk.  The respect which his debating talents command is mingled with a vague fear and a dislike still
unconquered, because proceeding from a natural antagonism. But he has acquired a decided position.
Having thus brought Mr. Wakley to the highest
point which an independent member of parliament
can reach, the question naturally suggests itself, What
are his motives and his objects in continuing a life of
such mental and physical labor as he constantly undergoes?  It has already been suggested, that in first
pressing forward toward political distinction, he was
stimulated by the irresistible impulse of an undefined
ambition. His sagacity must very early have taught
him that the political prizes within his grasp, even if.
he could with any consistency have accepted them,
were utterly inadequate, in a pecuniary point of view,
to meet the expenditure of a successful adventurer,
While, in point of honor or distinction, they would never
satisfy the cravings of his ambitious and restless mind.
The question, Whether a public man, so situated, may,
with honor, accept public employment? we conceive to




MR. WAKLEY.                 235
have been set at rest. Mr. Wakley had a perfect
light to accept any office which was offered him, or
which, by fair exertion, he could obtain. The office
of coroner for Middlesex having become vacant, Mr.
Wakley offered himself for it. It cost him some trouble and expense. to obtain it, but at length he was
appointed after a severely contested election.  The
emoluments of the office are, it is said, sufficient to
maintain its holder in the position of a gentleman:
Mr. Wakley, with his usual energy and activity of mind,
was not content with the proceeds as they were when
he took the situation, but by a vigorous exercise of its
functions, and an occasional stretching of almost obsolete rights, he has contrived, as it is understood, very
materially to increase his emoluments. His proceedings, in his character of coroner, are a great study.
He has constituted himself a sort of absolute Monarch
of the Morgue, and with a kingly grasp he levies his
indiscriminate taxes. He has as extraordinary a scent
for an unfortunate catastrophe of the sort that comes
within the range of his jurisdiction, as, in his political
capacity, he has for an abuse. In the former case he
has a stimulus, which in the latter is wanting. The
more cases of mysterious death he can discover, the
larger his fees of office. It is extraordinary what an
incentive such a state of things sometimes is to public
virtue. Mr. Wakley's activity is quite edifying. He
is policeman, church-warden, Humane-Society officer,
parish gossip, surgeon, public lecturer, spontaneous
mfagistrate, and coroner, all in one. He "makes the
meat he feeds on." He is a positive terror in all delinquent neighborhoods; and general practitioners, who
have had an unlucky case, shudder when they think
that some mysterious irregularity may be whispered
in the Dionysius ear of this watchful functionary, and
that.that fellow, Wakley," may come down among
them with his writ, holding his inquiry, giving them




236           ORATORS OF TIHE AGE.
the benefit of his judgment as a surgeon and the disadvantage of his speech-making as a magistrate, till,
perhaps, they see, in the distance, an adverse verdict
of an admiring jury, which blasts forever their professional reputation, and destroys their hope of fortune.
Power proverbially corrupts. We regret to have
to say, that not even our honest-minded and liberal
demagogue has been able to escape its influence. In
his capacity as coroner, he belies his teachings as the
advocate for freedom. In this court he is a dictator;
that is, he would be if he could. Not even FieldMarshal the Duke of Wellington can have a more
arrogant contempt for the press than has Our Great
Coroner. He would fain have excluded the penny-aliners from his court, but those gentlemen, like black
beetles, are not to be supposed not present because
they are not seen. Closed doors are not proof against
their sqbtile and insinuating habits. In vain Mr. WVakley closed the portals of his traveling Temple of Justice to these, his Argus-eyed enemies.  They were
present in the spirit; and all his magisterial sayings and
dictatorial doings were as faithfully reported to the
public as if he had never issued his awful fiat. Therbe
is a strange mixture of the tyrant and the demagogue
in his judicial proceedings. One moment he is all
arbitrary power, and in the next he displays as great
an avidity for the gossip of the neighborhood, and readiness to suppose every body-that is to say, surgeons,
nurses, policemen, juries-in the wrong, all grossly
neglecting their duties. His presence, nay, the very
shadow of his bulky frame, causes as much terror as
if he were a Grand Inquisitor.
These rigorous proceedings, however, are more
fairly subjects of criticism by the medical profession,
and those who are immediately affected by them, than
in an article of this description. But the acceptance
by Mr. Wakley of the office of coroner, and his in



MR. WAKLEY.                237
defatigable attention to its duties, bear, to a certain extent, upon his political character. It is of great consequence to the public to be able to determine with
some degree of accuracy the amount of dependence
they can place on those who stand forward in parliament as the reformers of abuses. We are not going
to claim for Mr. Wakley the praise of immaculate
purity. We do not believe that ambition has had any
the less influence in stimulating him to action than in
the case of more confessed adventurers. On the contrary, his whole life has been a series of bold pushings.
But we do claim for this gentleman, as covering a multitude of minor imperfections, the merit of sincerity.
Looking at him only as a politician, he is the sort of
man we should wish to deal with. There can be little
doubt that he believes in the existence of very great
abuses in the constitution, the law, and the administration. He thinks, too, that the best guaranty for the
sure correction of such abuses would be to admit, to a
greater extent, into the constituencies, the classes upon
whom the consequences of those abuses press the most
heavily. In these matters, his theory is the reflexion
of his convictions, formed upon a long and close observation of his fellow-countrymen, particularly of the
industrious classes, whom he has had peculiar opportunities of studying. He is essentially a practical man;
and provided the objects which he seeks to attain can
be accomplished through the existing machinery of
government, he would not be the advocate of rash or
speculative change. It is probable that recent events
have very materially modified the democratic tendency
of Mr. Wakley's opinions. He perceives that the
aristocracy are no longer, as he once thought they
were, leagued together for the conservation of abuses.
He sees them, in different fields of action, taking a
friendly and earnest interest in the affairs of the people.
He sees such men as Lord Ashley in one sphere, Lord




238          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
John Manners in another, and Sir Robert Peel in
another, establishing the principle that the social welfare of the unprotected classes must be made the basis
of all legislation; and the angry feeling, the constitutional jealousy, in which, against the good-humored
bent of his nature, he once indulged, has become supplanted by more really liberal views, and a greater
amount of confidence in those who are in power under
the existing order of things. There could not be a
better specific for taming and civilizing a' furious
democrat.
If we turn to Mr. Wakley's exertions as a social
reformer, we shall find the same earnestness and sincerity animating all his speeches and actions. He will
take up the cause of the poor because his heart is really
in them, and his indignation is aroused as an Englishman at any thing that savors of tyranny and oppression.
He has never been a heartless trader in popular grievances; he has been loud in proclaiming them, it is true,
but it has been with motives superior to those of ordinary demagogues. It is a singular fact, that Mr.
Wakley has been more active and energetic in the
exercise of his voluntary duties, on behalf of the unprotected classes, since he has been coroner than he
ever was before. Night after night he has bestowed
unremitting attention on his parliamentary duties, serving by day, too, on'committees, and going through all
the labor of investigation and preparation necessary in
bringing forward cases of individual misconduct or of
public mismanagement, when the government officials
are always on the watch for the slightest errors. All
this voluntary service from one who has reached the
highest point in the way of -pecuniary reward is, at
least, primadfacie evidence of the absence of selfishness,
and of any desire to trade upon philanthropy.
There is decided character about Mr. Wakley as a
platform-speaker. Although any violence of tone which




MR. WAKLEY.                239
there may at one time have been in his speeches has
been softened down, he is still, in his physical and
even in his mental peculiarities, a type, and a very
striking one, of the demagogue. Nay, his broad, burly
frame, his powerful voice, his careless, unstudied action,
and his blunt, off-hand mode of address, may have contributed, even more than his actual.conduct, or the sentiments he has from time to time expressed, to gain for
him his former political reputation. He is just the man
to sway a mob; nothing daunts him; no man dare attempt to put him down. Not even O'Connell himself
can wield with such a perfect will the rude elements
of democracy. He stands amid the storm and shock
of a public meeting like a rock or a tower, immovable,
uninfluenced, even by its utmost fury. An absolute
command of temper, yet a determined spirit to put
down opposition, a watchful eye, a shrewd perception,
and a ready touch of humor to catch the current of
feeling as it turns, give him a power over a miscellaneous multitude such as could not be wielded by men of,
perhaps, much greater intellect, but not the same
amount of determination, patience, tact, and knowledge
of the weak side of human nature; for in a crowd the
weak side shows most prominently: the best men
shrink from publicity.
Mr. Wakley, as a speaker in the House of Commons, is more distinguished for shrewdness and common sense than for any of the higher accomplishments
of the orator. A plain, simple, blunt, downright style
disarms suspicion and bespeaks confidence, even at the
outset of his address. A manly frankness, both in his
bearing and delivery, precludes the idea of any preparation, or of any design to entrap by means of the ordinary tricks and contrivances of the practiced debater.
He has a brief, conversational manner, as though his
thoughts Were quite spontaneous, and not the result of
preparation. He seems to be thinking what he shall




240          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
say next, as if the subject came quite fresh to his mind,
and he were, by a sort of compulsion, drawing as much
truth out of it as he could. This gives both fieshness
and vigor to his speeches. By his singular shrewdness and common sense, his perfect command of ternper, his good-humored irony, and store of information,
available at the moment on almost all subjects, he has
acquired an amount of influence in the House disproportioned to the demands of his position. He has inspired much confidence in his judgment, and by an
original, because an unfettered, turn of thinking, he
contrives to strike out new views of the subjects before
the House, and to supply materials for thinking or for
debating out of what seem to be threadbare themes.
This is the consequence of the original turn of his
mind and the independence of his position. He has
no party ties; he has received no training; he has no
class prejudices, such as obtain influence in the House
of Commons, but has been a shrewd and constant observer of human nature in all grades, and is not burdened with an overpowering sense of the immaculate
purity of public men. Still you never hear from him
those coarse charges of personal corruption against
individuals which will often fall from Mr. Duncombe,
notwithstanding his gentlemanly manners and superficial refinement. Broad as his insinuations sometimes
are, there is a degree of delicacy in the phraseology in
which they are clothed; and though he often indulges
in a sarcastic humor, it seldom or never carries a venomous sting. Although a very honest and uncompromising popular advocate, determined in his exposure
of public abuses, and still more in his championship of
the neglected poor, he shows a gentlemanly respect
for the forms and restraints which experience has
rendered necessary in debate, and a forbearance to
press charges to useless extremities of personality.
Many a highly educated aristocrat in the House of




MR. WAKLEY.                241
Commons might take a lesson, in this respect, from
this self-taught and self-trained politician. Mr. Wakley
loses nothing in personal influence by this sensible selfrestraint. If he has not quite conquered the prejudices
entertained toward ultra-Radical intruders by men of
birth and station, he has at least made them feel his
intellectual power and acknowledge his moral equality.
In this respect he has done more to advance the interests of the millions, by making their advocacy respectable, than have many more flashy and showy
popular leaders. His style of speaking is the most
simple and unaffected. He has been too busily engaged in the hard work of life to have had much time to
bestow on oratory. He has the appearance of a provincial, and has also the accent of one. The associations thus excited still further negative the idea of
polish or preparation. You might fancy, but for the
knowledge of passing events, not less than of subjects
of higher order, which his speeches display, that he
was some country farmer suddenly smitten with a passion for speech-making. The structure of his speeches
is quite inartificial, and the language usually the most
simple and colloquial of everyday life. It is plain,
even homely, without being inelegant: a manliness of
sentiment, and a quiet self-possession in the speaker,
impart a kind of dignity to the most ordinary expressions. There is breadth and force in his argument and
declamation, and a rough pathos in his descriptions of
pauper suffering is often far more stirring and affecting
than the most accomplished eloquence of more finished speakers. Mr. Wakley does not so much make
speeches, as deliver the thoughts which burden his
mind on any given subject, with frankness and sincerity.
Even hard words do not come offensively from him,
such is his good-humor and the amenity of his disposition. He constantly displays great shrewdness of perception, unmasking the motives of opponents with a
Q




242          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
masterly power, and, at the same time, with an avoidance of coarse imputation.  Yet he can be sarcastic when he chooses; but his sarcasm is more in the
hint conveyed, and in the knowing look of face and
tone of voice, than in any positively cutting expressions. He handles the scalpel with delicacy and skill,
never cutting deeper than is absolutely necessary.
Some of his ",points" have, from time to time, told
remarkably well; such, for instance, as that in which
he described the Whig ministry as being made of
"-squeezable" materials.  That one expression contributed considerably toward gaining for him the
position he holds in the estimation of the House of
Commons.
Mr. Wakley has extraordinary energy, both physical and mental. To see him bringing up his portly,
bulky frame along the floor of the House of Commons,
with swinging arms, and rolling, almost rollicking gait, his
broad, fair face inspired with good-humor, and his massive forehead set off by light, almost flaxen hair, flowing in wavy freedom backward around his head, and
the careless ease of his manly yet half-boyish air, as
though he had no thought or care beyond the impression or impulse of the moment; to watch the frank,
hearty good-will with which he greets his personal
friends as he throws himself heedlessly into his seat,
and interchanges a joke or an anecdote, or perhaps
some stern remark on the passing scene, with those
around; then, in a few minutes afterward, rising to
make, perhaps, some important motion,, laying bare
some gross case of pauper oppression, or taking up the
cause of the medical practitioners with all the zeal of
one still of the craft; to witness the freshness and vigor with which he throws himself into the business before him,'you would little guess the amount of wearying labor and excitement he has already gone through
during the day: yet he has perhaps been afoot from




MR. WAKLEY.                243
the earliest hour, has perchance presided at more than
one inquest during the morning, listening with a conscientious patience to the evidence, or taking part with
an earnest partisanship in the case; then off, as fast
as horses could carry him, down to the committeerooms of the House of Commons, there to exhibit the
same restless activity of mind, the same persevering
acuteness, the same zeal and energy, in sifting the
foul intricaciesof an Andover Union inquiry; and, after
hours, perhaps, spent in this laborious duty, rendered
still more irksome by a heated atmosphere and the intrigues of baffling opponents, returning home to accumulate the facts necessary for the exposure of some
glaring abuse in the Post-office or the Poor-law Commission, to manage the multifarious correspondence
which his manifold public duties compel hiin to embark
in. Yet such is often the daily life of this hard-working man: he is absolutely indefatigable; nothing
daunts, nothing seems to tire him. He may be an impostor, a political quack, a dangerous fomentor of discord: but, at least, he does not get much reward for
his exertions, and not even the prime minister goes
through more active labor. The comfortable, apathetic
officials of the government, ever anxious to shirk trouble or to shrink from exposure, often find him a disagreeable opponent in consequence of his perseverance.
With Mr. Wakley, grievance-hunting is a very serious business: it is the occupation of his life. As his
time is very valuable, he might do better with it than
bestow it on the public; yet he works away harder than
ever. He certainly makes greater sacrifices than Mr.
Duncombe, if he does not win quite as much ephemeral applause, or obtain it quite as easily. It may be
urged that his patriotism is all prospective; at least,
however, he pays down a heavy deposit. Upon the
whole, too, he has done much good, if, in the course




244          ORATORS OF TIlE AGE.
of his career, he has also caused some evil. The errors of " The Lancet," and the occasional violences of
an enterprising demagogue determined to rise in the
world, may be forgiven in the man who has done so
much to unmask the minor tyrannies which oppress
the pauper population of the country.




DR. BOWRING.
IF much talking could make an orator, or much writing a philosopher, Dr. Bowring is the man to accomplish the miracle. He has talked and written enough
in his time to fill an Encyclopedia, or to set up with
a stock in trade all the Radicals in the House of Commons, and all the Political Economists of the press.
Dr. Bowring is the least agreeable legacy left by Jeremy Bentham to the political world. All the vigor of
that remarkable thinker comes to us diluted in the pages and the speeches of the learned doctor. He is a
political economist, and conceives himself to be a statesman. He has'been, moreover, a traveler in various
parts of the world, and has a sort of speaking acquaintance with many of the great men of foreign countries,
who, no doubt, encouraged for -their own amusement
the loquacious propensities of this singular variety of
the genus Philosopher. The personage of whose
friendship he seems to be most proud is Mehemet Ali.
He has tried to establish an Ali worship in England, by
an uncompromising laudation of every thing done, in
his short-sighted energy, by what the learned doctor
calls the great ruler of Egypt. A wager might safely
be laid that Dr. Bowring would never let a speech of
his come to a close without lugging in, in some way or
other, his inimitable Pacha.
Unless it be from the circumstance of his having
been the executor of Jeremy Bentham, and the appointed editor of his woiks, we have never been able




246           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
to understand how Dr. Bowring acquired any standing
or influence with his party. It is true that he edited,,The
Westminster Review," and that he performed the same
office for the works of Jeremy Bentham after his death.
But in his own person he appears to have neither the
mental claims nor the attractive qualities which could account for his being made in the slightest degree prominent by common consent. Perhaps if the Liberal
party had a more generally recognized and more powerful head, a public man like Dr. Bowring might sooner find his level-might speedily have some position
assigned to him, in which his laborious disposition and
his accumulation of facts might be rendered serviceable
to his country. But in the general scramble he stands
as good a chance as the best.
At present he has mistaken his vocation. He does
not possess a single qualification which could render
him useful-at least, in proportion to his own idea of
his pretensions-in the House of Commons. He
wants that most essential requisite, tact, in an eminent
degree. There is nothing a popular assembly dreads
more than a bore. They know they must listen, but
they hate the tormentor. They take their revenge by
laughing at his suggestions, confounding even the good
with the bad.  Thus it is with Dr. Bowriug.  He
does not know that nature has not fitted him for an orator, and that a rigid economy in his displays would be
generally acceptable. With the best possible intentions, he is always saying good things at wrong times,
and has, therefore, never succeeded in winning the ear
of the House. He is too didactic. Too much learning hath bewildered him. He knows not when to
pour out his stores and when to restrain himself; out
it all comes in the most crude state, possibly because
it has never been properly digested. The best speakers do not overcrowd their speeches with either
thoughts or facts, knowing that a multitude is not like




DR. BOWRING.              2947
a single mind, and can not well be fixed to the reception of a train of thinking; they rather fix on a few
leading ideas, and spend their art in dressing them up.
Not so Dr. Bowring. He does not understand the ad
captandum; with him it must be all or nothing. He
carries no small change of knowledge, but brings to the
market large masses of bullion, which, however valuable, will not pass current.
Add to this a most unfortunate mode of delivery
and not the most dignified or commanding personal appearance, and it may be supposed that Dr. Bowring,
whatever may be his personal worth, his public services, or his intrinsic value as a perambulating dictionary
of commerce, is no great favorite in an assembly like
the House of Commons, impatient of even the most
praiseworthy mediocrity, and singularly alive to a keen
sense of the ridiculous. Dr. Bowring has a most disappointing physiognomy. At first sight he seems to
have a fine intellectual forehead, but a second glance
shows that it wants some of the noblest characteristics,
and that it is considerably indebted for its seeming
depth to the baldness of the head. A dogmatic severity monopolizes the expression of the countenance,
the complexion is cadaverously pale, and he has the
sharpest of Scottish noses, with a pair of twinkling
eyes, more expressive of cunning than habits of deep
thinking. He usually speaks in a large pair of silver
spectacles, which, as he has a continual stoop, appear
as if each minute they would fall off, more especially
as he has an absurd habit of wagging his head and shaking his finger while speaking, like an aged pedagogue
trying to awe a very naughty boy. From his mind
being overburdened with ideas and facts, he pours
them out in a confused jumble, without order or arrangement, in intricate and imperfect sentences, and
without any thing like a connected chain of thinking.
All this crude mass of words, too, comes forth in a tone




248          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
of voice so wearying from its grating monotony as only
to be likened to the grinding of a hurdy-gurdy or the
sounding of the key-note while tuning a violoncello.
With all these disadvantages, it may well be imagined
that frequent exhibitions of his oratorical powers, when
the learned doctor is so firmly convinced that mankind
are in want of knowledge, and that he has a mission
to impart it, might become a very serious infliction.
It is more than probable that Dr. Bowring seriously
and sincerely desires to make himself useful to the
public. He is a very patriotic, laborious, and learned
man, and has devoted much time to the accumulation
of facts illustrative of the state of the trade and commherce of this country. Could he be spirited away
from parliament, and put into some appropriate administrative office, all parties, himself included, would be
gainers.




MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE.
MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE is the most gentlemanlike
demagogue of whom we have any recollection. Of
course we speak of the exterior man alone, not desiring to go the length of assuming that other men, of
perhaps more ardent patriotism, but of manners more
rough, may not possess quite as many of the real qualities of the gentleman-those who are independent of
conventional customs, habits, and dress. In those externals, however, let their worth be what they may,
Mr. Duncombe is certainly distinguished from the
members generally of the House of Commons; so
much so, that a stranger entering the assembly would
naturally observe the singular elegance and finish of
his attire, as distinguishing him even in a place where
well dressed men are rather the rule than the exception. We have been almost tempted to think, too,
that in proportion as his Tribunitian displays grow
more bold, and his principles more democratic, he has
become more and more anxious to preserve his old
character as one of the most fashionable men about
town-thus, as it were, drawing the personal distinction more and more strongly, the more he approximated toward the principles of the working classes.
Strange as it may seam, the most able parliamentary
advocate of the ", great unwashed" is himself a perfect
model of every thing that is recherche in dress, manners, and carriage-nay, he has even been called the




250           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
"Dandy Demagogue."  One thing, at least, is certain,
that he is, to look at, almost the very last man from
whom you would expect such powerful, nervous, and
humorous speeches as he has made during the last few
years, or the bold and clever tactics, followed out under
every disadvantage and against overwhelming odds,
with which he has puzzled and sometimes discomfited
the most distinguished masters in the petty strategies
of party politics.
It is well that we should get over our surprise at this
contrast between the man and his doings, because we
shall then be better able impartially to estimate the
value of those doings, and to examine the machinery with
which he has obtained his unquestionable influence in
the debates of the House of Commons, beside exciting
a certain degree of interest, in the public mind on behalf of whatever subjects he may choose to bring before
parliament; otherwise we should be continually puzzled with practical contradictions. Not in his careful
attention to dress alone does he so differ from his colleagues in Radicalism; the contrast extends to his
physical and mental organization, his whole bearing
and demeanor. There is not one of them, however
honest may be his intentions, or respectable his conduct, who does not prepossess a casual observer unfavorably rather than favorably. They have all some
physical defect to overcome, or some want of mental training, or some jaundiced, distorted view of
things, grating on the feelings of a lazy public, and
creating a predisposition not to attend to their representations. But Mr. Duncombe has every natural
advantage in his favor. Whatever disapprobation he
may at times excite by the license he occasionally gives
himself when making his personal attacks, it is a difficult thing for him to destroy the prestige at first created on his behalf. Tall and very well proportioned,
there. is a striking air of elegance in his whole figure,




MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE.            251
which is rendered still more pleasing by the absence
of all affectation; which is, in fact, precluded by a
peculiarly frank and manly deportment, and a captivating openness of manner, almost amounting to
familiarity. A handsome face, singularly expressive
of the humorous, a remarkably intelligent eye, and a
voice at once sonorous and harmonious, complete the
attractions of this fortunate and favored candidate for
popularity.
Still, it was some time before Mr. Duncombe was
able to take his present prominent position in the
House of Commons. Apparently, he paused long ere
he could make up his mind to take the decisive plunge
into Chartisrn. His early efforts in parliament, not
only in the Unreformed House, but also for some time
after the passing of the Reform-bill, were of a much
more mild and less ambitious nature. His antecedents had not been favorable to parliamentary success.
The day of the men of pleasure was passing away:
the House of Commons was beginning to grow ashamed
even of the memory of the race of statesmen who left the
gaming-table, or bacchanalian orgies, for the discharge
of their senatorial duties. The time was near at hand
when the practical men were to be in the ascendant.
As Mr. Duncombe had a wide-spread reputation as a
man of pleasure, with a strong dash of the fashionable
roue, it is needless to say that in this state of things
some very desperate stroke of policy was necessary
in order to give him a chance of rising to distinction.
It will always appear uncharitable to doubt the sincerity of any man's avowal of opinion; nor, indeed,
except by way of guess or inference, has one any right
to do so. It is in that spirit alone that we are tempted to express a doubt whether Mr. Duncombe, in his
own secret mind, is prepared to go the length of his
declarations in the House of Commons, or that he
really entertains those ultra-democratic opinions'which




252          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
he professes, but which meet with such a practical
contradiction in every particular of his idiosyncrasy.
There have not been wanting, in the history of revolutionary movements, or of popular assemblies, instances of young aristocrats, who, from some cause,
have lost the prospect of legitimate distinction in their
own sphere, suddenly being struck with a passion for
reforming the world, and putting themselves forward
as the leaders of the populace, thus supplying a dangerous amount of mental ingenuity and energy to what
would otherwise be an inert physical mass. Such,
modified by circumstances, is the explanation we have
heard given of Mr. Duncombe's intensity of Radicalism; and for ourselves, we must say, confessing as we
do to a lurking liking for him, which nothing will ever
conquer in our mind, that the more we see and hear
him, the more we study his conduct and sift his motives, the more the conviction is forced upon us that
this earnest advocate of the wrongs of the people is
only playing at politics for the advancement of private
objects and purposes, a keen foresight having long since
told him that the millions by whose labor the whole fabric
of society is maintained, increasing as they are in intelligence and information, at least, if they are not in
wisdom, will not much longer be satisfied with an exclusion from political power, not justified by the theory
of the constitution. The honorable member for Finsbury feels that he is perfectly safe in agitating for such
a cause; and that there is every chance, in the long
run, of his obtaining some of those honorable rewards
which are always within the grasp of those who play
the winning game in politics.
This easy adoption of the principles which seem
most likely to tell, explains much of Mr. Duncombe's
mode of proceeding in parliament, which might otherwise seem unintelligible. It also explains the apparent contradiction between his education, appearance,




MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE.            253
and social connections, and his political associations.
The truth is, that politics always appear, in Mr. Duncombe's mode of handling them, as if they were capital pastime-a provision by which well educated men
with nothing to do may at one and the same time drive
away ennui and satisfy their ambition. He never succeeds in convincing you that he is in earnest, though
he strives very hard, indeed, to do so, and will use
very strong language in order the more surely to satisfy you of his sincerity. It is his political profession
to find out grievances, and to represent them to the
House of Commons. In this pursuit he displays a
most praiseworthy alacrity.
Were his motives above suspicion, England might
well be proud of a patriot possessed of so much virtue
and public spirit. There are, however, a few peculiarities in his manner of proceeding which occasionally suggest suspicion.  For instance, Mr. Duncombe
seldom or never urges a grievance for its own sake.
Obscure cases of oppression he leaves to obscure advocates. Those in which he most delights are cases
in which some great public principle is involved, some
hereditary legacy of former demagogues, and upon
which there is an easy appeal to the constitutional
prejudices of the British people. Mr. Duncombe is
careful to be always on the popular, and, therefore, for
him, the winning side. He never throws away his
patriotism, nor wastes it on objects either undeserving
or unfruitful. In whatever he does he has an eye to
the electors of Finsbury, looking upon them as a sort
of barometer of public opinion. If he can please them
he feels confident that he will also stand well in the
opinion of the public at large.
It is in the last degree amusing to witness one of his
attacks on a government; for, be it known, it is one of
the first principles of such a politician always to have
some bone of contention with the ministry of the day.




254           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Mr. Duncombe apparently proceeds upon the convenient assumption that there is something radically
wrong or corrupt in every administration, that it is only
a matter of accident which iniquity is laid bare first,
or how long they may be able to conceal their misdeeds from the jealous guardians of the public interest. Another invariable rule is, to assume that every
government official is prevaricating and mystifying,
having no object whatever but to withhold as much
information as possible from the public. This gives
scope for much stereotyped abuse. It is observable,
also, that Mir. Duncombe's patriotism  is particularly
active at the commencement and close of every session, just at those periods when, in the first case, public men are more the object of general attention, and
in the last, when they may have to come in contact
with their constituents. Should there be symptoms
of a dissolution of parliament, then his patriotism absolutely knows no bounds —there is no restraining the
ardor with which at that time he is determined to
serve his fellow-countrymen. A ministry, however
strong it may seem, should begin to suspect a decay
of popularity if they find Mr. Duncombe attacking
them; the decay, they may depend upon it, has commenced, even though they may not themselves be
aware of it. Or, if there be one member of a ministry weaker than another, he will soon be reminded of
his deficiency by an attack from Mr. Duncombe. Ordinarily, however, one or two displays serve the honorable member for the stock in trade of a whole session. A bad case under the Poor-law, or (still more
fortunate!) a letter-opening case, with an unpopular
home secretary to badger night after night, these are
of incalculable value.
There can be no doubt that, in a moral point of view,
all this theatrical patriotism stands very low indeed;
that all thinking men repudiate a plan of tactics which




MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE.            255
makes politics a mere pastime, if not a trade, and prostitutes to the purposes of a temporary ambition or personal convenience some of the noblest privileges enjoyed by the citizens of a free country. It is true, also,
that only the foolish people out of doors are taken in
by it, and of them not even the whole; while the wise
ones look on, some amused, others irritated, at such a
perversion of the functions of the legislator. The secret of Mr. Duncombe's influence within the walls of
parliament seems to be the imperturbable good-humor
with which he conducts a case, the ease and nonchalance with which he will deliver the most violent diatribes, the cool assurance with which he will advance
to the attack, and work up what shall seem to be a
most overwhelming case out of very slender materials.
There is always a waggish glance of the eye, and a
smile lurking about the lip, which seem to say, ", Of
course, you know that this is all acting: but I am not
talking to you, except to show my own smartness. I
am taking in the people out-of-doors, who, when they
read the reports to-morrow, will believe all these
charges as so much gospel." And strange to say, it is
this levity which makes the House endure with bomplacency what would otherwise be sometimes extremely offensive; for, in the course of these clap-trap
speeches, Mr. Duncombe will often go great lengths,
will make charges and use language scarcely permissible in any society of honorable men, but will urge them
with so provoking an impudence, such a half-jocular
semblance of earnestness and indignation, that an indefinite sense of amusement will take the place of what
would otherwise be sometimes very like disgust. One
or two hardy speakers, confident in their own powers,
and, above all, in their own innocence, have at times
essayed to unmask this assumed public virtue, have
met the honorable member in his own vein, treating
the whole affair as a got-up exhibition for electioneer



256          ORATORS O' T'IIE AGE.
ing purposes. But they found they had a dangerous
customer to deal with-that Mr. Duncambe woluld
only be jocular when it suited himself; and they have
been suddenly astonished to find themselves put out
of court by a well feigned semblance of indignation
that the wrongs of the people should be treated with
such disrespect,-and this, too, from the man whose
whole public life has been a practical mockery of the
functions of a representative!
Mr. Duncombe deserves the credit of displaying
great ability as a speaker. As a mere debater, he is
one of the best in the House. There are few speakers who can so soon and so thoroughly grasp the points
of a case, or who have so happy a mode of so putting
them as to make their full force and effect apparent.
He is also extremely powerful in reply, another evidence of great ability as a debater. He has a most
agreeable delivery, free, graceful, and unaffected,
except when acting a part, and altogether, a most
winning manner as a speaker. He has also great
powers of humor, especially in a bantering style,
which is very annoying to officials, who fret and -smart
under inuendoes and aspersions which they are precluded from directly noticing. He seldomi says any
decidedly Witty thing which will bear quotation, but
by odd contrasts and groupings of ideas, and a way he
has of hammering incessantly at the ridiculous side
of any question, he contrives usually to keep the
House in a state of continual risibility while he is on
his legs.
From these remarks it will be seen that we are no
great believers in the sincerity of Mr. Duncombe's
devotion to the public good.  We are disposed to
compliment him on his talents at the expense of his
integrity. Still, such men are not without their use
in the political world.  Whatever may be their
motives in ferreting out abuses, they sometimes do




MR. T. S. DUNCOMBE.            257
good by exposing them, and public men are held
in restraint by the fear of having their misdeeds paraded. These grievance-mongers are like the licensed jesters.  For the few good things which they
sometimes say or do they are tolerated in many errors
and offenses.
R




MR. WYSE.
WHEN the Melbourne government had determined
on adopting a ", conciliatory" policy toward Ireland, it
followed almost as a necessary consequence that they
saw the importance of including some of the Irish Liberal
members in their government; such an official amalgamation being the outward and visible sign of compacts
of the kind then entered into, adopted then with regard to the Irish Liberals, and since again resorted to
on the occasion of the alliance with the Free-traders.
In choosing the individual members who were to join
the government, they naturally looked out for those
who were most respectable and least objectionable in
the eyes of the English public, always more or less
prejudiced on the subject of Ireland. Among others,
they fixed on Mr. Thomas Wyse, the member for
Waterford, a gentleman who had been conspicuous in
the struggle for Roman Catholic emancipation, and
whose opinions, although in the highest degree patriotic and national, were at the same time moderate and
not characterized by hatred of the English name and
institutions.
There were several concurrent causes which tended
to the selection of Mr. Wyse. The government of
that day, taunted as they were by their opponents in
England, wished, however ineffectually, to remove
from their proceedings with regard to Ireland the imputation of being under mob influence. They shrunk
at that time from the charge of being leagued with Mr.




MR. WYSE.                 259
O'Connell, to which they strove by every possible
means to give an indirect contradiction. Now Mr.
Wyse had on more than one occasion resisted successfully the dictation of Mr. O'Connell, and was known
to be a man prepared to make any sacrifice rather than
agree to total repeal of the union. He was also a
member of a very old family, which at one time sat for
Waterford, either the county or the city, during many
generations, and so far from being a nominee of Mr.
O'Connell, he had been at the Waterford elections in
direct collision with him.  On the other hand, the
public spirit of Mr. Wyse, and his devotion to the
cause of his country, were beyond question; so that,
in making the selection they did, the government effected a double object. It is to be inferred that their
choice was deemed a good one, not merely in England,
but in Ireland also, for, notwithstanding that Mr.
Wyse had been denounced by Mr. O'Connell because
he will not agree to absolute repeal of the union, he
has still kept his seat for Waterford, and seems likely
to do so as long as it suits him to remain in parliament.
His politics embrace all the opinions and views of
the Liberal party in Ireland, short of repeal of the union,
to which he is decidedly opposed; but he is a most
important and useful member of parliament in other
respects, more especially from his active and energetic
promotion of every measure of a practical nature that
can be of service to his country. -In such pursuits he
is indefatigable, and he is always the first to raise his
voice in favor of such plans from whatever party in
the state they may come, for his mind is too really
liberal to be bounded by the narrow views and objects
of faction.
Mr. Wyse is essentially catholic in his mind, which
is expansive enough to embrace any and every proposition which is calculated to elevate, intellectually and




260          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
morally, the human character. His whole life has been
devoted to the ardent pursuit of such objects, in parliament by his speeches, and also various contributions to
cotemporary literature. To secure some grand and
comprehensive scheme of education for the people is
the one absorbingidea of his life, conceiving as he does,
that if the intellectual standard of a people be raised,
other beneficial consequences follow as a matter of
course. He has either originated or promoted with
ardor most of the efforts that have been made to prepare the public mind on this question. -He has written
upon it with great power and perseverance; and his
plans combine the practical and the critical in an eminent degree. One large work of his on education is a
complete treatise on the subject, with an elaborate plan
of action, followed'out into its minutest details. It
would be impossible to estimate the amount of labor
which the fervor and zeal of Mr. Wyse have led him
to bestow on the snbject; to him will belong a great
part of the merit of having saturated the public mind
with the idea of the necessity of a system'of public
education. He did not join the government of Lord
Melbourne until he had received a pledge that a plan
of education should be proposed to parliament —a pledge
the fulfillment of which circumstances prevented. It
is more' than probable that he will be intrusted with an
active share in the proposal and execution of whatever
measure Lord John Russell, in pursuance of his promise, may bring forward on the subject of national education.
Mr. Wyse is also an ardent and active promoter of
the fine arts. He has labored zealously and effectually
to infuse into artists a more asthetical spirit; and
whenever the interests of art require in any way legislative interference or protection, Mr. Wyse is always
at hand to afford an earnest and hearty cooperation.
He is not a mere dilettante. From his earliest youth




MR. wYSE.                 261
the pursuit of art has been a passion with him; his
personal associations have all conduced toward this
end; and, indeed, we have heard that he is himself a
painter of no mean order, though he says but little on
the subject. Mr. Wyse's well known devotion to such
subjects led to his being named one of the royal commission for superintending the building of the new
houses of parliament. It must have been a source of
no slight gratification to hind thus to have aided in the
triumph of Mr. Barry, the associate of his youth,
with whom he had studied the principles of architecture from the finest works extant, when they were
both young men, in Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, and
Egypt.
Mr. Wyse is recognized in the House of Commons
for his devotion to the different objects we have mentioned.  He is untiring in the perseverance with
which he follows them up, and some of the most excellent speeches made in parliament on the duty of
the state to do the utmost to promote education and
art have come from him. His enthusiasm seems to
acquire fresh fuel from the apathy of the legislature,
and his energy is undaunted by successive failures.
But although it is so difficult to stimulate parliament
to active exertion on subjects so surrounded with difficulties, and where the excitement of political strife is
wanting to give a zest to discussion, such repeated efforts as his are not without their result, and it may be
seen in the improved state of public feeling, more especially as regards the national encouragement of
art.
Mr. Wyse is an enthusiast on his favorite themes,
and his eloquence partakes of the prevailing character
of his mind. The matter of his speeches, the ideas
and language, are suclh as to place him in a very high
rank; and did he pay more attention to the arts and
graces of delivery, he would stand still higher. In the




262          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
ardor of his own pursuit he does not observe that those
around him are not animated by the same passion for
the good and the beautiful; he is too intent in pouring
out his own soul to take measure of the capacities of
his hearers, whom he inundates with ideas. Thought
follows thought, illustration is heaped on illustration,
till the mind becomes almost wearied with the effort
to receive and retain so much, and it would gladly
take refuge in some more prosaic speech-something
that would be more suggestive. Mr. Wyse's utterance is much too rapid for effect. The sentences
follow each other too quickly, not, as in the case of
Mr. Sheil's eloquence, where frequent pauses and the
most delicate and careful emphasis temper a delivery
which would otherwise be of lightning-like rapidity.
But with all these faults-which are so often to be
found in the orations of the most eloquent of his compatriots-Mr. Wyse's speeches are of remarkable
power and richness of illustration. Out of the House
of Commons, when addressing some meeting of artists,
or on any occasion where his audience feel a ready
sympathy with the subject of his discourse, he becomes
powerfully effective, and rouses his hearers to his own
high pitch of enthusiasm.
The presence of Mr. Wyse at the deliberations of
a Whig government will be of essential service to his
country.  For while he is decidedly liberal in his
views, he is a man of the most moderate and temperate turn of mind, one who would rather realize a practical good than lay down an impracticable political theory; and his demeanor in the House has been such,
and the character of his mind as developed in his
speeches is so much more constructive than destructive, and he has so much respect for the opinions of
others, even though differing most widely from them,
that he is not looked on with suspicion even by the
most jealous Protestant.  His political conduct is




MR. WYSE.                263
felt to be the natural and legitimate consequence of
his principles and inherited faith; and, as well for his
Own sake as by contrast with some of his more violent
countrymen in the House of Commons, he is treated
with universal respect.




MR. HAWES.
PEOPLE have been accustomed to make merry with
the name of Mr. Benjamin Hawes, irreverently abbreviating the patriarchal part, and prefixing thereto
an adjective indicating the fact that he is not the tallest of men. He entered parliament at an unpropitious period, when the aristocratic part of the representatives of the people were still sore at the introduction
of the bourgeoisie; and he unfortunately took a more
active part in the public business than either his position
or his experience appeared to warrant. His peculiar
pursuit or trade, too,-that of soap-boiling-was an additional enormity in the eyes of amateur or gentlemenlegislators, and of those writers in the press who prefer
to echo the prejudices or the dislikes of their patrons.
And his position was not mended when it was discovered that he was disposed to take a lead in furthering
Radical or semi-Radical objects. On the whole, he
has been the object of more ridicule and obloquy than
any other member of the class of representatives to
which he belongs, and the abuse and condemnation
have been, as usual, in an inverse ratio to his deserts.
At all events, other men who deserved it much more
have received it more sparingly. For although it is
the misfortune of Mr. Hawes, as of another member
of the legislature, to be saddled with the weight of that
Judaical prefix, and to be in height rather below than
above the heroic standard of humanity-although for
many years he was in the habit of interfering, to a




MR. HAWES.                265
troublesome extent, in all sorts of affairs, whether he
understood them or not, and while his Lambeth honors were yet in their first bloom and blush, was the
busybody of the House of Commons-although he
might have been obstinately guilty of coming down to
the House to his legislatorial labors in full eveningdress, with straw-colored kids, and was as fussy and
talkative as any parvenu in parliament could possibly
be, still, for a long time past, he has been gradually
getting rid of these little pretensions, has applied himself steadily and soberly to subjects coming properly
and naturally within his ken, has abandoned his habit
of meddling with questions too important to be handled
by any but first-rate men, modestly taking his place in
the ranks of the regulars, instead of striving to be the
officer of a little rebel troop of his own; and as state
necessity compelled Lord John Russell to include in
his new administration one, at least, of the pets of the
ten-pound householders, why, we don't know that he
could have fixed upon a more sensible, able, well informed person, or one who has profited more by his
parliamentary experience, than Mr. Hawes. As the
police-reporters say of their favorite inspectors, he
will, no doubt, prove an ", active officer." He has been
long enough in training, and has received sufficiently
hard rubs in his career to be content with the position
of a subordinate, at all events for some time to come;
while his being the representative of a metropolitan
borough, and his known identity of opinion with a portion of the ", progress" party, gave him that political
weight, and his appointment to office that significance,
which are essential to Lord John Russell's purpose in
the present state of political parties. In the choice
the noble lord made of the place he assigned him, he
rather consulted some ministerial convenience than his
personal fitness; for general opinion, considering the
class of subjects to which he has given his attention in




266          ORATORS OFr THE AGE.
parliament, would rather have assigned him the Homeoffice as his sphere of action. Be that as it may, Mr.
Hawes will prove a laborious and useful ally in any
office.
The oratorical powers of Mr. Hawes are not of a
very high order, but they are considerably above mediocrity. He stands about midway between those who
may almost be termed professional orators-men who
rely on their eloquence mainly for their political standing, and those purely practical men who have no ambition to shine as speakers, but who merely deliver
themselves of the opinion which they think their duty
to their constituents calls for in the most simple and
plain language. Mr. Hawes is essentially a man to
work hard; that is his ambition, and he succeeds. As
we have said, he was not always what he is now; he
was once only a very ", busy" man, now he is a very
good man of business. He deals with the subjects that
come before him in a plain, practical, pains-taking way,
and eschews all attempts to play the orator, except
on very particular occasions, when important public
measures are discussed, and when, as a metropolitan
member, it is almost his duty to speak. He will then
rise sometimes to a higher order of language, and throw
himself with greater earnestness into the subject; but
he has lost the pretension which once made his efforts
ridiculous, and when he speaks with the most ability
he is to all appearance unconscious of his own comparative excellence.  Nature has not fitted him for
displays of the kind.  He has neither personal nor
mental qualifications entitling him to enter into competition with first-rate men; but his position in the scale
of representatives entitles him to record his opinion.
His style is (now) unpretending, his language simple
but well chosen, his reasoning clear, and his views as
comprehensive as it is possible for a man in his social and
political position to hold. He has long since been




MR. HAWES.                267
growing in the good opinion of -the House; the fact
of his selection by so astute and cautious a statesman
shows this. He has applied himself indefatigably to the
study of the great questions of the day, and is extremely
well informed upon most of them. He has also acquired
an intimate personal acquaintance with the wants and
wishes of the people; and, if the possession of office
does not have at once the effect of contracting his
views and blunting his sympathies, we may look to his
being an effective and useful member of the government, not alone in the department to which he is
specially attached, but more particularly in the preparation and discussion of those measures which the new
premier has promised, the object of which is to promote and extend the improvement of the physical and
moral condition of the unprotected classes. We have
here purposely leaned a little to the favorable side in
noticing Mr. Hawes, because he has been hitherto
rather hardly dealt by, and because he appears of late
years to have taken very considerable pains to render
himself more and more useful as a member of parliament, and more fit to hold some administrative office.
Lord John Russell has shown discrimination in choosing him, under the circumstances; but he had long
been looked on in the House of Commons as a man
likely to be adopted by the Whigs whenever (to use a
plhrase of Mr. Duncombe's), the old Whig dodge"
would answer no longer, and they were compelled to
join hands with the representatives of the middle
classes.




MR. WARD
IN appointing Mr. Ward to a post, however subor
dinate in his administration, Lord John Russell gave
the best possible guaranty of his desire to make it representative of the opinions of his followers in the House
of Commons. This gentleman has long been consid-.
dered as one of the most'distinguished among the
rising members of the Liberal party, and he has so
blended the undoubted Radicalism of some of his
opinions with that practical good sense and knowledge
of statesmanship which are essential in a minister,
that, even with his extreme opinions staring. the world
in the face, they have been more disposed to regard
him as a Whig a little in advance of his party, than as
a downright, unadulterated Radical, —which, however,
he can scarcely in fairness be called. For a considerable time he acted as a kind of parliamentary fugleman to the extreme section of the Liberal party, but
as the Whigs approached more and more to the opinions of that section, so he became less and less ardent,
until, at last, Lord John Russell was able to incorporate him in his administration. He has the materials
of an excellent minister.
There are some men of that restless activity and
energy of mind, that they will make themselves in
some way or other prominent among their cotemporaries in spite of all adverse obstacles, till they stamp
their own individuality, and come to be counted among
the notabilities of the world. Such a man is Mr.
Ward. Placed wherever he might be, he would have




MR. WARD.                 269
more or less distinguished himself from those around
him. His parliamentary reputation has been entirely
of his own making. When he first entered the House
of Commons he was but little known, except as the
son of the author of,I Tremaine," and as having held
some diplomatic employment in South America. Amid
the general multitude of members at that time professing Liberal opinions, bidding against each other for
popular favor, these would have been but slight qualifications; and Mr. Ward might have gone on for many a
year making clever speeches, and being regarded as a
shrewd, active-minded politician, without ever rising
to the point of having his proceedings watched as indicative of probable changes in public opinion, or seeing
his opinions and propositions analyzed with jealous
fear by the most distinguished men of the day. But
Mr. Ward struck out a new path, opened wholly new
ground. With a sagacity and foresight for which he
has never received due credit, he. detected the tendency of the policy of the Liberals, and determined to
anticipate it. He orginated the famous principle of
", Appropriation," which afterward occupied so much
of the time of the House of Commons, and ultimately
led to such serious results. It is needless to say that
the government of the day were defeated on Mr. Ward's
motion, or to add that from that moment he became
a marked man. Such success was, perhaps, almost too
sudden to be followed by others in a ratio of increase;
but Mr. Ward, although he, of course, did not continue quite so prominent for some time after as at the
time of his successful motion, yet gradually.acquired
considerable influence in the House, both as an apt
and ready speaker, and because of the general shrewdness and soundness of his views. Beside, once a conqueror, always a conqueror. He had achieved one
singular triumph in party warfare, and that was always
borne in mind.




270          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Perhaps the chief characteristic of Mr. Ward's
mind is the sagacity with which he estimates the
importance of party movements, their probable tendency, and calculates their effect on cotemporary politics. In this he is like Mr. Duncombe, but with more
honesty of purpose. There are few men of his party
who better understand the public mind, or are able so
well to feel the pulse of the public. Although he has
fixed views and opinions on particular subjects from
which he has never swerved during his career, he
looks at politics as a practical man, knowing that the
movements of individuals are often of more moment than
the intrinsic truth of principles; and although he has
been consistent in his own conduct, he fully admits
the value of ", expediency" in determining the course
of policy of a government. His mind has always
harmonized with those of the leading men of the day
in this disposition to take a practical view of things,
and to make every allowance for the necessities of
statesmanship. He treated all public questions in a
ministerial spirit long before he could ever have
dreamed of being a minister himself. He watches
public opinion with great care, and avails himself of
all indications of mutation with skill: the results of
his observations and cogitations come out in his speeches, which often contain admirable sketches of public
men and sagacious prophecies of their future proceedings. Nor should it be omitted that, despite a certain
vivacity of manner which almost looks like levity, he
is a man of decided caliber, and that he carries ballast.
He has had extensive opportunities of observing mankind, of which his keen and lively intellect has much
profited. He has also read much, and has acquired
a very general and comprehensive knowledge of public
affairs.
As a speaker he is agreeable, and in many respects
original. There is a freshness and raciness in his




MR. WARD.                 271
speeches that make them highly entertaining, while at
the same time they almost invariably carry heavy
metal. It follows, from the habits of observation we
have ascribed to Mr. Ward, that he is a great tactician. He never wearies the House with a repetition
of arguments they have already had ad nauseam, but
starts from the real debatable point, taking certain
things for granted, admitting certain conditions, and
then starting fair in the fight. A speech from Mr.
Ward always gives an impetus to the debate; he is
sure to strike out some new views, introduce some
happy illustrations, and at least to throw out something
that serves as a bone of contention. He presents you
with a happy combination of argument, humor, and
fact. His speeches are open to critical objections.
His humor at times descends to something very like
levity, and that, too, of a clumsy kind. He is too
verbose, and tantalizes his audience by perpetually
traveling out of the straight road of his argument in
pursuit of some illustration which a more artistical
speaker would have interwoven naturally with the
theme. An excessive volubility of speech, a trivial
and effeminate manner, and a redundancy of action,
still further weaken the effect which speeches, possessing so much intrinsic merit, and which are at
once so sound and so lively, would otherwise produce.
Where so much excellence is attained with so little
apparent effort, it seems a pity that Mr. Ward will
not bestow that amount of attention on his delivery
which would speedily place him on a level with the
chief speakers in the House of Commons.




MR. ROEBUCK.
OrF all the lawyers whose first appearance in the
House of Commons is within our recollection, we can
remember none, with the single exception of Sir William Follett (who at once achieved a signal triumph), to
whom so favorable a reception was accorded as that
given to Mr. Roebuck. Rumor had heralded his approach. It was said that he had already, in other fields
of action, developed oratorical powers of a striking
character, and that there was a boldness and vigor in
his proceedings which indicated an original turn of
mind. It was known, also, that he was the paid parliamentary advocate of the Legislative Assembly of
Lower Canada; and it was inferred that his appointment to such a post was itself a guaranty of some intellectual distinction. When Mr. Roebuck made his
appearance in the House, it was seen from his aspect
that he was a man possessing no ordinary mental power, although Nature had not been to him as liberal as
to others in the gift of those personal advantages which
are so great a help to the orator. The ardor, and at
the same time the ease, with which he plunged into
the political disputes of the hour, showed him to be of
a bold nature and not to be daunted by the novelty of
his position, or that paralyzing modesty of nature which
makes men, even of a high order of mind, the slaves
of conventionalities. The consequence was, that in a
very brief space of time Mr. Roebuck acquired considerable notoriety, and no small amount of favor, in the




nMR. ROEBUCK.              273
Iouse; and although, as we shall presently see, there
was much in both his words and his actions to draw
down reprehension, still the mental vigor and determination of purpose displayed in his speeches procured
for him that amount of attention, and even of deferonce, which tact might, in the course of time, have
fostered into permanent influence. It is true, he was
feared more than he was liked; but to make yourself
feared is to gain a strong position in a popular assembly. VWee are now speaking of the years 1833 and
1834; and we do not hesitate to say that at the close
of the latter year, when Mr. Roebuck had been scarcely two sessions in parliament, he had already laid the
foundation of a future reputation which might long before the present time have enabled him, through the
usual channels of honorable promotion, at once to have
served his country, which his talents would have qualified him to do, and to have advanced his own interests,
for which his political position was at that time singularly favorable. But, by a strange fatality or infatuation, for which we must endeavor to account, he has
willfully thrown away all that position, and all that
growing influence, until, from having been one of the
remarkable and rising men in the state, he has dwindled down into a mere excrescence of the Liberal party, his weight in the House yearly decreasing in propoirtion to his despairing efforts to add to it. -Brought
into a position of influence by his talents, he has destroyed its advantages by his intemperance and want of
tact. Self-raised, he is also self-destroyed. Let us look
a little into his public life, that we may the better understand this wanton eccentricity in-his personal character.
When, in the year 1827-28, the House of Assembly
of Lower Canada determined on having an agent to
represent their interests in England, Mr. Roebuck,
who had already drawn favorable notice on himself,
and who was, moreover, a connection of Papineau, was
S




274           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
selected as the most fit person to fill the newly constituted office. It would have been difficult to provide a
young man with a more advantageous passport into the
political world. It was a lever which, with skill, might
be made a powerful auxiliary in clearing the pathway
to power, for it supplied at the same time an honorable position and pecuniary means, not in itself sufficient
to establish its owner; and in 1832 Mr. Roebuck was
returned for Bath. On the opening of the session of
1833, he made his first speech in the House of Commons: it was in every respect characteristic of the
man who made it, containing as it did the germ of his
future parliamentary proceedings. As a mere piece
of declamation, it was singularly successful. It is seldom, indeed, that a first attempt, in any assembly, possesses the vigor and force which marked the speech.
It was seen at once, as well from the thoughts and
language, as from the stern manners and abrupt delivery of the speaker, that a new element was to be introduced into parliamentary discussion; that strong
language, plain speaking, and downright hard hitting,
were thenceforth to take the place of those oily courtesies and ingenious circumlocutory modes of offense
and defense in which legislatorial spleen had hitherto
indulged. It was evident, too, that the new member
had very great confidence in himself; that whatever
might be the extent of his powers, he, at least, would
not let them rust for want of being tried. There was
an air of arrogance and self-sufficiency which would
have been easily mistaken for an exaggerated and an
unfounded self-conceit, had it not been that, however
offensive it might be in itself, it was, to a certain extent, justified by the amount of ability displayed.
There was also a familiar tone in Mr. Roebuck's address which augured ill for his modesty. Had he been
twenty years a member of parliament instead of only
a few weeks, he could not have more entirely forgot



MR. ROEBUCK.               275
ten what is due from one who comes for the first time
into the presence of any number of his fellow-men;
that enter what place you may, courtesy, at least, if
not policy, demands an obeisance at the threshold.
The speech itself, we repeat, was strikingly illustrative
of Mr. Roebuck's character as it afterward developed
itself. With the exception of some protestations of
devotion to the public, which we have no doubt were
sincere, and some declarations of fundamental principles, to which we are bound to say Mr. Roebuck has
throughout his career consistently adhered, this first
effort of one till then unknown in parliament,-of a
mere school-boy in politics compared with those around
him,-consisted of an attack grossly personal in its
nature, upon a man as much his superior in knowledge
and eloquence as in position, but whom this aspirant
no doubt thought to be but an equal match for himself.
Happily for the tranquillity and good order of the legislature, the practice of dragging forth individuals as
the targets for political passion to aim at has become
less and less necessary as the amenities of life have
found their way into the debates of the legislature;
and by common consent, except in very extreme cases,
personality is avoided. A man with more delicacy and
tact than Mr. Roebuck possesses would at once have
seen that, if such attacks were objectionable in themselves, they came with a still worse grace from such a
mere tyro in parliament as himself; but this gentleman seemed from the first to suppose that the mere
fact of his having been elected for Bath at once placed
him on a footing of equality with even the most distinguished members of the House of Commons. He
had evidently no idea of those gradations which are
created by a natural deference for superior talents and
abilities. He rushed into the arena at once, and flung
his gauntlet at the first or the most prominent antagonist he could discover.




276           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Some parliamentary adventurers think it good policy
to create a disturbance on their first appearance, and
afterward to subside into decent respectability. Not
so Mr. Roebuck. His first essay was mildness itself
compared with his subsequent displays. During the
first session of his appearance in parliament, his language became so violent that he was called to order
publicly in the House. He was charged with having
virtually preached open rebellion.
His combative disposition was destined to be still
further displayed. In the early part of the year 1835,
we find him taking Sir Robert Peel to task for having
challenged Mr. Hume; but in the course of a very
few weeks the censor himself assumes an attitude
which renders it imperative on several public men to
challenge him. Mr. Roebuck, it should be observed,
had early placed himself in hostility to the Stamp
Duty on newspapers, against which a vigorous agitation was going on. In order to disseminate his opinions more readily, and at the same time to test a disputed point in the law, he himself became the proprietor
and editor of an unstamped publication. This appeared
during a portion of the year 1835, and was entitled
", Pamphlets for the People." While they were in a
course of publication, Mr. Roebuck happened to make
a short speech in parliament, in the course of which
he made some very strong observations upon the cqrruption of the stamped press and its conductors. For
these remarks he was assailed in ", The Times," ", The
Morning Chronicle," ", The Examiner," and other papers. Their remarks were not, as may be supposed,
in the highest degree flattering. They stung Mr.
Roebuck's too irritable temperament; and he retaliated
in his pamphlet by attacking, personally and by name,
The gentlemen whom he believed to be the editors of
certain newspapers. On referring to those attacks, it
ts difficult to conceive how any man, unless in a firenzy




AIR. ROEBUCK.               277
of ungovernable spite, could have allowed himself to
make them. They were such as no provocation whatever could have justified, still less the remarks which
drew them forth. Tile natural consequence was, that
these gentlemen, thus dragged from a retirement in
which they had a right to shroud themselves, sent
messages to Mr. Roebuck. In the cases of Mr. Sterling and Mr. Fonblanque, matters were accommodated,
and Mr. Roebuck conditionally retracted. But MIr.
Black's case was much more serious. That gentleman had been charged with tergiversation and abandonment of principle so gross as to make any explanation almost impossible. A challenge was the consequence.
Mr. Roebuck had charged Mr. Black with conduct
base and utterly disagraceful in the management of
"' The Morning Chronicle;" and as he would not retract these words the parties met, and two shgts were
fired without effect. Mr. Black's second then withdrew him, and there was an end of the affair as far as
the duel was concerned. We have only referred to it
because it illustrates Mr. Roebuck's character. We
have no doubt he sincerely believed that he was vindicating a principle of great public utility, in exposing the
corruption which the use of the anonymous in newspaper writing affords scope for. We do not believe
that in making his original charge he was actuated by
feelings of personal vindictiveness; on the contrary,
some of the gentlemen attacked were his personal
friends. But it is Mr. Roebuck's misfortune that
lhe never can assert public principles without the exasperation of personal feeling. As we proceed with
his career, we shall find instances of this multiply upon
us. From his first effort in parliament, up to the last
month of the last session, it may with truth be said of
him,-'His life is one long war with self-sought foes."




278           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
To return, however, to our review of Mr. Roebuck's public life. By the middle of 1836, his unbridled declarations of democratic principles, and -unceasing strife with all who crossed his path, whether
they were friends or foes, had made him so formidable
or so obnoxious to some parties in parliament, that a
strong, and, as it proved, a desperate effort was made,to get rid of him. The pretext resorted to was the
incompatibility of his being at one and the same time the
paid agent of the Lower Canadians and the representative of a British constituency.  Sir John Hanmer
moved a resolution to this effect, which, although
couched in general terms, was confessedly aimed at
Mr. Roebuck; and a long debate ensued, which resulted in the defeat of the motion, and, so far, in the
triumph of Mr. Roebuck, who, it must be confessed,
showed an unwonted temper and forbearance under
these very provoking circumstances.  The motion,
however, was not so ill-timed or so purposeless as it
appeared; for already Canadian affairs had begun to
assume a most serious aspect, and the peculiar connection of Mr. Roebuck with the popular party in the
colony made it very necessary that he, as the agent of
the anti-British party, should not derive any factitious
importance from his position at home. In 1837, the
wisdom of this precaution was made apparent; for on
the Canadian question coming formally before parliament, Mr. Roebuck expressed himself in terms of such
violence, that his language could only be excused on
the plea of his being but an advocate making an exparte statement on behalf of his clients, and not a
member of the British legislature, bound by his honor,
not less than by his oath, not to use his legislative
functions in any way that could impair or destroy the
integrity of the empire. His speeches at this period
required that every allowance on these grounds should
be made for them. Several of them were of the most




MR. ROEBUCK.               279
incendiary character, amounting almost to the preaching of open rebellion. A very natural consequence of
all these violent diatribes, and of the awkward scrapes
into which Mr. Roebuck's testiness and ill temper hadbrought him, led to his being rejected by the constituency of Bath at the general election, which soon after
took place. Behold him, then, for four years out of
the House of Commons.
Looking back at this, the first portion of Mr. Roebuck's public career, we find that he had by his boldness, his straightforwardness, and a certain originality
which characterized his earlier speeches, created a
strong prestige in his favor; but that, by a continued
indulgence in splenetic virulence, an unrestrained
license of speech on political subjects, and a constant
appeal, for the most trivial objects, to sacred privileges
reserved by the constitution to the people as a last resort in extreme cases, he had gradually weakened
whatever influence he had possessed, until he was
no longer looked upon as a person of note or importance-nQ longer appealed to as one of the thinking
minds whose decisions might be indicative of the course
taken by others, —but merely regarded as a clever
speaker,- possessed of more talent than temper, out
of whom it would be utterly impossible to take the
conceit which was the ban of his mind; so as to make
him fit for service in any way, either in some ministerial capacity or as a member bf an organized opposition.
At the general election of 1841, Mr. Roebuck was
again returned to the House of Commons as member for Bath. Some curiosity was evinced to know
whether time and retirement had produced any favorable change in his disposition-whether his temper
had become less sour, and his judgment more matured. Certainly, his first speech on his return favored
the supposition that a change had indeed come over him.




280          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
Physically, he appeared to possess much less energy
than before: he seemed even to be afflicted with
chronic illness; and sympathy was felt for him on this
score, because it was known that by the exercise of
his talents alone it was that he could hope to rise in
the world. But although his speech on the Address
(to which we refer) breathed the same hostility,
on public grounds, to the Whig ministry that had
been the theme of his first speech in 1833; and although there was firmness and vigor in his denunciation of their treachery toward the people by abandoning their avowed principles of 1831, still the speech
was so much more temperate and statesmanlike than
those with which he had extinguished himself in 1837,
that very sincere hopes were entertained of his confirmed restoration from a distempered state of mind,
and of his being destined to become, at some time or
other, an ornament to the legislature.
But these hopes were destined to be only too speedily disappointed. The tone of his political declarations
was softened; but it seemed that his personal irritability had augmented in more than a proportionate
ratio. Whether it was an excitability produced by
physical causes, or only the result of chagrin at having
been left so long in unnoticed obscurity, it is certain, that
from this period Mr. Roebuck's temper displayed itself in a more unamiable light than ever, until it required all the proverbial indulgence of the House of
Commons to bear with his eccentricities. Scarcely
had the House entered on general public business, when
an outbreak of this gentleman's ill-temper took place.
such as we do not remember ever to have seen equaled
in either House of Parliament. His return to parliament was the signal for the appearance in ",The
Times" of an article directed against Mr. Roebuck, in
which he was spoken of in a tone of playful contempt,
not at all suited to his own ideas of his own importance.




MR. ROEBUCK.               281
Vituperative men are proverbially thin-skinned. Mr.
Roebuck, who had so often attacked others witlh sarcasm much less refined than that used by the newspaper, ought not to have objected to being paid off in
his own coin. But his self-love was wounded: he was
furious. Without thought, without plan, he rushed
down to the House, the paper in his hand, and commenced an incoherent appeal on the ground of breach
of privilege. The exhibition he made utterly destroyed the reputation which he had begun to recover
with his political cotemporaries.  Those who have
not seen Mr. Roebuck speak under excitement, can
have no idea of the incoherent fury of his gestures, the
utter incongruity between the breathless solemnity of
his exordium, and the ridiculous insignificance of his
charges, the total abandonment of his mental and
physical powers to the accomplishment of a wild and
undefined revenge. On this occasion he excelled himself in passionate feebleness, in inconclusive invective.
Forgetting what, as a lawyer, he ought to have made
his first consideration, namely, that he had no distinct
case on which to ground his charge of breach of privilege, he commenced a violent attack on the conductors
of i The Times," some idea of the coarseness of
which may be conceived, from his assuming that the
registered proprietor might, as a matter of course, be
found in prison for libel, while he recommended those
who were aggrieved by the paper not to resort to legal
means of securing reparation, but at once to horsewhip a
gentleman whom he chose to designate as the proprietor-a gentleman whose years and character alone
ought to have protected him from so rude and unmanly
a recommendation, if even there had not been another reason in the fact, that he had but recently ceased
to be a member of the House. It is painful, even at
this distance of time, to recall the exhibition Mr. Roebuck then made-painful to reflect, that not even the




282          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
talents which he unquestionably possesses could save him
fromn this ebullition of an engrossing egotism and an inflated conceit.  Imagine this man of magniloquent
speech but-diminutive form, standing up on the floor
of the House, arresting the progress of business, to
claim his right of speaking on a point of privilege, and
courting the attention and the sympathy of more than five
hundred gentlemen, who have assembled at the most
inconvenient season for the transaction of important
affairs of state —imagine him solemnly declaring, that he
is about to expose to them a case for their interference
to protect a member of their body from public outrage.
Pale, even livid, with suppressed rage, and trembling
from finger to foot with passion, he opens in a voice
now choking with swelling emotions, now dwindling
into the whisper of physical weakness, an attack upon
his private antagonists in the journal in question, against
whom he conjures the House to act in his behalf; and
makes the extraordinary recommendation to inflict personal chastisement instead of resorting to that civil
authority to which he now himself appeals. When he
has proceeded so far in his diatribe as to weary, if not
to disgust the greater portion of his hearers, he is called
upon to read the article of which he complains. He
hands the newspaper to the clerk at the table, who
reads it in his monotonous stammer to the House.
They see in the remarks of the writer a singular aptitude to the case of the individual before them; that,
had he possessed the gift of prophecy, he could not
more surely have anticipated the scene that was being
enacted before them. The more they listen, the more
they see how groundless is the complaint, —how apt
an4 pointed must have been the character drawn in the
article, to have thus stung and exasperated the complainant. They laugh; then impatient, they murmur:
they wish the farce to be brought to a close. Mr. Roebuck, who has grown paler and more passionate as his




MR. ROEBUCK.                283
discomfiture grows more imminent, calls on the House,
first, to declare the article a breach of privilege; and
then to bring the printer to the bar, that he may,  on
his knees" (mark the low tyranny of your democrat!),, beg pardon of the'complainant for the offense." But
not one of those five hundred members can be induced
even to second the proposition. The charge drops for
want of a single supporter, and with it he who preferred it also falls below zero in the esteem of his cotemporaries. He has extinguished himself, for a time,
at least, as effectually as if all the wit or all the scorn
to be found in that assembly had been poured upon
him.  And he has not even the consciousness, the
pride of martyrdom. He knows that to his own folly,
his own intemperate passion, his downfall alone is
owing. Will it operate as a warning?  We shall
see.
How different is the position of this same man a
year after, when, instead of being the intemperate
advocate of his own private wrongs, he stands forward
as the champion of a great public cause! In the month
of May following the September in which the scene
we have just described occurred, Mr. Roebuck drew
upon himself the attention —we might almost say the
admiration of his countrymen, by the courage, temper,
and self-possession, with which he exposed before the
world, by the confessions of the parties themselves,
that system of election compromises by which, although
the most gross bribery might have been committed,
the ends of justice were defeated, and the constituencies deprived of their constitutional rights. Then, Mr.
Roebuck stood in a proud position. No longer the
impotent executioner of his own revenge on antagonists
whom he could not touch, he boldly and manfully asserted one of his first privileges as a member of parliament, and, strong in the justice of his cause, defying
conventional arrangements, and looking corruption in




284           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
the face, he made those who had trafficked with the
privileges of the people-not those only whom he attacked by name, but many more who were touched
by the electric shock of conscience, tremble before
him, single-handed as he was, and till then oppressed
with the ridicule of his former failures. When the
affair was finally concluded, the effect was to repair the
very serious inroads on his reputation which the past
events have caused; and he stood before the public
in the position of a man who, single-handed, and by the
sole force of his own will, contrary to the expectation
and the advice of his political associates, asserted some
of the most valuable privileges conferred by the constitution on the House of Commons-privileges which,
until he rescued them fiom abeyance, had fallen into
almost total disuse.
Mr. Roebuck's infirmity of temper is such as to neutralize all expectations that he will act like ordinary
men. The least check offered to his arrogant assumption of infallibility for his principles-the least hint,
conveyed in however courteous terms, that he is in the
habit of overstepping the bounds of fair discussion in
his speeches, is sufficient to drive him furious with
blind, purposeless resentment.  He is as eccentric
and uncertain in his modes of retaliation, as he is prone
to resort to them. On another occasion we find him
(this.was in 1844) making somne remarks on Mr. Smythe,
so openly personal and insulting as to provoke a challenge from that gentleman. Mr. Smythe was justified
in supposing that Mr. Roebuck, having given him
offense, would also give him "satisfaction."  But by
this time a change had come over Mr. Roebuck. The
wind of his caprice had set in another quarter.  Since
his triumph in the Election-compromises case, he had
been preaching up the supreme fitness of the House
of Commons to decide upon all questions whatever, be
their relation to its business however remote. From




MR. ROEBUCK.               28.5
a man of hard words and blows, he had become a man
of hard words and peace. He claimed the privilege
of saying what he chose, and of throwing upon the
House the onus both of judgment and of punishment.
According to his new theory, he flung the code of
honor overboard at once, and laid the letter of Mr.
Smythe before the House in a sanctimonious harangue,
professing so intense an admiration of peaceful and
legal modes of settling differences, as to seem quite
oblivious of those other modes which society has been
forced to adopt in order to restrain undue license of
speech. It is fair to say, that Mr. Roebuck's speech
on this occasion was much more mild and dignified
than is usual with him where his personal feelings are
mixed up. He adopted quite a moral and didactic tone
in speaking of the impropriety of Mr. Smythe's proceeding. To have heard him, you would have supposed
that fighting had never been recognized by his hearers
as a means of reconciling differences which words
would not heal; and certainly you would not have suspected that Mr. John Arthur Roebuck had ever placed
himself in the attitude militant. By persevering, with
an austere indifference to remonstrance, in his affectation of extreme parliamentary morality, he succeeded in
placing Mr. Smythe in a false position, and compelling
him to apologize for having sent the challenge. But it
will be, perhaps, unnecessary to apprise the reader,
that although the House felt it necessary to enforce its
rules, the sympathies of the members ran very much
in favor of the gentleman who was thus put hors-decombat.
We pass over many minor instances in which Mr.
Roebuck, by his petulance and arrogant demeanor,
placed himself in a hostile attitude with the House,
believing that the reader must be sufficiently wearied
by these details of perverseness and splenetic humor.
But an instance of the kind occurred during the last




286          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
session too amusing to be altogether passed over. On
this occasion, Mr. Roebuck's self-chosen antagonist
was Mr. Disraeli. That gentleman had, we need
scarcely say, made himself conspicuous by the great
and unexpected talent that he had displayed as a speaker.  Unfortunately, he had beat Mr. Roebuck hollow in his own peculiar line-that of personality and
sarcastic vituperation. The cool, polished, searching
irony of Mr. Disraeli was as superior to the wild abuse
adopted of late by Mr. Roebuck, as intellect is to passion. It had, no doubt, been galling in the extreme to
the member for Bath to see the intense expectation
excited by the promise of a speech from Mr. Disraeli,
and the uproar of cheering which his well aimed hits
drew forth, and to compare with his rival's success his
own decreasing influence, the averted looks, and the
scarcely disguised weariness, with which the House
received his galvanic attempts to produce a sensation.
He saw Mr. Disraeli achieve the most triumphant
effects with, apparently, the slightest effort; while his
own most labored sarcasms, though charged with all the
venom with which a vindictive spirit could arm a disappointed man, fall still-born on his audience. In the
absence of any more direct provocation, it is only in
this way that we can account for Mr. Roebuck's otherwise unprovoked personal attack on Mr. Disraeli. His
speech had all the appearance of having been prepared
for the occasion. The extreme confidence, the chuckling self-gratulation which accompanied the speech,
showed that he anticipated a signal triumph.. He had
miscalculated both his own powers of attack and his
rival's means of retaliation. Incoherent inconclusiveness, wild, pointless aspersion, and personal jealousy,
ludicrously betrayed, were but poor weapons against
so collected and self-possessed a master of fence as Mr.
Disraeli. His reply covered Mr. Roebuck with ridicule.  With that provoking frigidity of manner and




MR. ROEBUCK.                287
affected indifference which were calculated to be especially annoying to so vain a person as Mr. Roebuck,
he parried that gentleman's random blows with inimitable skill. Nor was he content with merely foiling
his foe. Some remarks of Mr. Roebuck on his mode
of delivery justified him in retaliation; and he took
ample revenge. Mr. Roebuck's style of speaking, his
wild gestures, his violent efforts to produce dramatic
effect, and the ridiculous feebleness of his envenomed
but pointless sarcasms, were all sketched by Mr.
Disraeli with the hand of a master in satire; and when
he wound up, he convulsed the House by the happy
terms in which he described Mr. Roebuck's pompous
vagaries in language and action, as, Sadler's Wells
sarcasms" and, melodramatic malignity."  The truth
of the picture was instantly recognized, and Mr. Roebuck, though he has received many a setting down
during his brief but turbulent career, was never so
utterly at a discount in the opinion of his cotemporaries as after the delivery of that speech.
It may be considered, however, as extraordinary,
that a man who has willfully made so many enemies,
and has so often rendered himself troublesome to the
House, should ever have possessed influence there.
But we have presented the worst side of the picture.
Had Mr. Roebuck only exhibited himself in this unamiable light, he would long since have been put down.
But his early speeches satisfied the House and the
public that he really had the qualifications of a valuable member of parliament. It is his intemperance
alone that has clouded his fair fame. From the first
hour of his entrance into the House of Commons, his
public career has been characterized by an independence of spirit, stern even to obstinacy, an indifference
to personal consequences, rarely, indeed, to be met
with in an assembly where class interests and aristocratic influence combine to paralyze moral energy, and




288           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
to divert the minds of public men from the course of
political rectitude. We have watched his conduct from
first to last, and are prepared to affirm that it has exhibited a rare and unique consistency; that it has even
been a fault in Mr. Roebuck to have pertinaciously
refused to join in those party combinations by which
great measures have usually been carried; that having
set up for himself a standard of right, he has inflexibly
adhered to it, striving against all obstacles to reach his
appointed goal. His whole life in parliament has been
one certificate of sincerity.  He is, however mistaken
may be his views, a true friend and advocate of the
interests of the poor, a hater of political cant, and a determined opponent of all class legislation on unjust
principles. He has stood up, time after time, under a
storm of disapprobation, to assert principles which he
holds to be true, and which, if only for the sake of
truth, ought to be argued, although their advocacy was
certain to render him unpopular in the House of Commons. His very first speech stamped him as a man
of superior talent as a debater, and secured for him a
hearing at all times; of which he availed himself to
advocate the cause of the people in their many social
sufferings. He gave full fling to the democratic tendency of his mind, while at the same time he infused
a species of philanthropy into his exertions. It is to
his honor that he does not, as some of his compatriots
do, wait till a subject is popular before he takes it up.
A natural restiveness of temper, and an unconquerable
love of justice, which he would secure even at the peril
of social convulsion, urge him with an irresistible imlpulse to act upon what he conceives to be the abstract
merits of the case, with which he will not allow expediency to interfere. Of course, this spirit sometimes carries him into extremes, and betrays him into
wild defiance of constituted authority; but those who
would be the most likely to shrink from these extrava



MR. ROEBUCK.              289
gances of an earnest mind, can not refuse to respect
the uprightness which sustains Mr. Roebuck against
unconquerable prepossessions in the minds of certain
classes, and renders him, in respect of many subjects,
a model of that very scarce character-an independent
member of parliament.
In accounting, as we have done, for the kind of influence which Mr. Roebuck's uprightness and consistency early secured for him, we should not omit to
state, that during a long period of time his speeches
were such as to command the attention of all parties.
It was not only that he asserted his principles boldly,
but his arguments were well put, and even where, to
the eye of reason, they might be deficient in cogency,
the perseverance and earnestness of the speaker gave
them a kind of force. The constant reiteration of
propositions, however dogmatic, will secure for them a
degree of credence, even when unsupported by proof.
One thing Mr. Roebuck's audience were almost sure to
hear from him: a lucid exposition of the real question at
issue, stripped of all the factitious embellishments with
which the sophistry or the party prejudices of previous
speakers might have invested it. This made his speeches abstractedly useful to those who followed him, while
the clearance which he made of the arguments on both
sides was sure to please either one party or the other.
That Mr. Roebuck should have voluntarily flung away
the influence which these various causes had obtained
for him, is matter for regret. That he has done so,
there can be no doubt. His constant indulgence in an
irritability which seems uncontrollable, his reckless
imtputations on the character of opponents, his profuse
scttering of personal insults on all around him, friends
and enemies alike, and his wanton trials of the patience
of the House-have certainly undermined the reputation which he had acquired; and it will almost be as
difficult for him to regain the position he formerly held,
T




290          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
as it would be for a man of less talent and moral energy originally to attain it. It is not easy to account for
so ill-advised a perseverance by Mr. Roebuck in a
course of conduct which would bring even the most
favorite member of the House into disrepute. It is
the more surprising that his talents should have taken
this sinister direction, because he evidently is under
the sway of an ambition of no ordinary kind, and would
spare no exertions to advance himself to power, either
through direct popular influence or in the regular
channels of promotion. The only solution of the difficulty we can offer is, that Mr. Roebuck is a disappointed man. His excessive egotism and high opinion of
his own powers led him to expect that he would have
received from the great men of the day, not only a
more rapid but also a more substantial acknowledgment. He evidently did not understand the constitution of the House of Commons, or what a mountain of
inert prejudice the adventurer has to cut through in
order to clear the road to power. He did not see that
there, as elsewhere, an apprenticeship must be served
that he who would fain command must first learn to
obey. Mr. Roebuck overlooked these conditions of
success, and neglected to avail himself of the very favorable impression his first efforts created. He thought
to take the citadel by storm, but having rushed to the
assault with inadequate means, he failed to make an
impression, and has only fallen back in the trenches.
Not seeing how much his own arrogance, petulance,
and splenetic indulgence in personality, have really
caused his non-success, his mind has become imbittered as well against individual antagonists as against the
members generally, who, he conceives, have not sufficiently acknowledged his merits.  As his mind has
become more jaundiced, he has grown more bitter and
more personal. His speeches have gradually become
the reverse of what they used to be-their faults more




MR. ROEBUCK.               291
glaring, their merits more rare. They now abound in
assumption and egotism, only occasionally redeemed
by vigor, and pointed language and thought.  It is
more than probable that Mr. Roebuck entered parliament with hopes and objects that were not confined
to mere personal advancement.  A charitable construction of his conduct will lead us to admit that he
looked on his mission as representative of the people
in an exalted light-that he saw in it the means of
working out great, and as he believed, necessary
changes in the political and social condition of the
country. His exaggerated opinion of his own powers
led him to choose a line of action that was not likely
to lead to a success commensurate with his desires.
But the censure which he ought to attach to his own
mismanagement, he visits on those whom he assumes
to be in a kind of conspiracy against the people; and
we are therefore disposed to attribute much of the
splenetic humor he displays, not to mere wounded
vanity, stinted in its allowance of admiration, but also
to a conviction of the moral unworthiness of those
whom he insults by his arrogant impertinence-a conviction, mistaken perhaps, but still sincere. Certain
it is, however, that the longer he has been in parliament, and the more the disappointment of his ambition has been brought home to him, the more his harangues have increased in virulence, while they have
proportionately decreased in power.
The more closely we look at Mr. Roebuck's oratory
in detail, the more cause we see to find fault with itthe more reason to regret that a want of modesty of
spirit should have prevented Mr. Roebuck from submitting himself, humbly and patiently, to that training
which is necessary to success in any department of
mental exertion, but more especially in the art of public speaking, perfection in which depends so much
upon minor accessories. Mr. Roebuck is a very dis



292           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
appointing speaker. His eloquence depends for its
force more upon his earnestness, and a bold repudiation
of conventional modes of address and molds of expression, than upon any intrinsic value in the thoughts or
polish of the language. He trusts much to the impulse
of the moment, and, to all appearance, does not give
his speeches that preparation which even the first orators of the day find to be necessary. His mind is not
so well stored with information, nor his oratorical powers so well trained and disciplined, as to make this a
safe course. As he is an intemperate man, liable to be
drawn, by the slightest interruption, away from his
main theme into personal altercations, he is still more
open to the risk of not being able to preserve that selfpossession which is absolutely required by an accomplished orator. An almost necessary consequence of
this reliance on resources which are not always at
command, is, that Mr. Roebuck, however well informed
he may be upon a subject, or however strongly he mnay
feel upon it, is just as likely to break down as to achieve
a success. We have known him to rise at the most
critical and exciting period of a great debate, when he
had intruded himself on the attention of the House, to
the displacement of the heads of either party, when
there was, perhaps, a general feeling that he was presuming too much thus to stand in the way of a political
manifesto or of a division. But still an indulgence has
been extended to him because of his original position.
He has availed himself of the opportunity thus afforded him to commence a speech, in which he has, perhaps, dashed with a bold and vigorous hand into the
very core of the subject, holding the real question at
issue up, for the first time, to the attention of his audience, cleared of all the fallacies infused into it by previous speakers. To all appearance, he is carrying the
House with him. Repeated cheers hail his terse and
well pointed propositions, and his presumption is for



MR. ROEBUCK.               293
gotten in the able exposition he makes of his case.
But, suddenly, he says something which provokes an
ironical cheer, or a sneer, from some opponent. This
stings his amour propre, and off he starts, on the instant, into personality, sometimes uttelring, without
adequate provocation, unendurable insults and aspersions on character. From that moment, his speech,
so auspiciously commenced, becomes a failure. His
infirmity of temper once touched, he becomes an altered man. There is no longer vigor, sense, argument,
or even coherency, in what he pours forth. Yet he
has not the discretion to stop, but makes a long, ralmbling speech, full of feeble repetitions of what he has
so forcibly put, or of offensive personalities, or outrageous defiance of the growing disapprobation of his
hearers, until, at last, he fairly tires out their patience,
and his display, which at his commencement had
brought him honor and respect, ends by his being covered with ridicule and contempt.
The same causes produce an effect very similar in
the materiel of the speeches themselves. Forwant of
a little care his sentences are alnost always imperfect.
Aiming constantly at an antithetical style, he foils himself, and provokes comparisons, by not having trained
his mind into the channels of thought which alone
will produce that style with effect. It is not so much
a slovenliness, the result of an indifference, as a gross
failure, after a deliberate attempt. He is thus a very
provoking speaker. Even in his best moments, when
you are led on from point to point, in the expectation
that the next will be something superlatively good,
you are mortified on reflection to find to what little
purpose your attention has been occupied, and what
a small amount of that tedious and ambitious harangue
is worth remembering. Mr. Roebuck has a didactic
style of speaking, which also beguiles his hearers,
until too late they find that this teacher of men has




294           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
really little to teach. He seems ever on the very brink
of success. At each portentous pause, when he appears
to have gathered up his strength, you expect to hear
some aphorism, some great political truth; but as often
you are disappointed, cheated with some pompous
but feeble piece of commonplace, ridiculously small as
compared with the reflection or the premises which
usher it in. The head may be of gold, but the feet are
of clay. In like manner, there is a want of coherency
and sustentation in his explanations of political principles
or theories. A little care, a little modest pupilage to
experience, would make that clear and strong which
is now confused, vague, and feeble. You see that the
mind of the speaker has not been really brought to
bear upon it. It is clear that he wants to be a philosopher, but has not the enduring patience necessary to
constitute him one. He is also too ready to grapple
with every subject that comes before him, whether he
understands it or not. This leads him to talk on so
many questions, that he can not render himself perfect
on any. There is an affectation of simplicity in his
reasoning; but as his mind is by no means fertile, he
constantly reproduces the same views; and this reiteration, which is intended to simplify and to impress
more strongly the mind of the hearer, leads to an involvement which brings about quite the contrary result. Among the vices of his style of speaking is
a habit of dogmatic assertion, persevered in without
modesty, either of mind or manner. A constant egotism destroys the symmetry of his speeches, by displacing abstract reasoning on the question at-issue, or
declamation which might influence the feelings; and
the irritable temperament we have already described
still further distorts and deforms the products of his
mind. For a man so ready to attack, it is wonderful
how impotent he is in defense. Blind with rage, he
strikes about him, right and left, and is unable to de



MR. ROEBUCK.                295
fend himsnelf. because, in his fury, he does not see his
own vulnerable points. His hot, intemperate passion
runs away with his judgment. You see that he has
got hold of a capital idea, which a master-mind, or
even an inferior capacity, cool and collected, would
work into a powerful sarcasm or a happy retort; but
he is so distempered with vindictive feeling, is in such
haste to wreak his vengeance on his adversary, that
hbe applies the match too soon, and the explosion
harms himself more than any one else. In this respect
Mr. Disraeli is far his superior. With the same disposition to attack, the same love of personality, the
same oblivious inclination to gratify private animosity
through the medium of public debate, he has the advantage of Mr. Roebuck in his imperturbable self-possession. However excited may be his feelings, or
however bitter his resentments, he never loses his
temper. He utters his sarcasms at white heat.
Mr. Roebuck's manner of speaking is unique and
original, without being agreeable. He is earnest and
violent, without being impressive. He labors under
great natural disadvantages.  His appearance is not
prepossessing, nor has he any of that fascination which
invests some public men with an irresistible attraction,
and propitiates favor even before they open their lips.
Mr. Roebuck is small, even diminutive, in stature,
and he has not those symmetrical proportions which,,
in some little men, supply the want of height. Continual ill health adds to an appearance of feebleness,
which not even his mental energy and activity are
sufficient to neutralize. His voice is also feeble. It
has a harsh, sharp sound, like that which you will
often hear fiom persons of confirmed ill temper. His
face bears a soured expression, and if a smile ever
finds its way to his mouth, it is the smile, not of goodhumor, but of irony or sarcasm. A livid paleness of
complexion may be the result of ill health, but it is




296          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
more likely to be the consequence of habitually indulging a splenetic disposition.
His exhibitions in parliament, even his most successful ones of late years, present a melancholy spectacle of diseased vanity and overrated powers. Conceive the sort of person we have described always
ill attired, sometimes culpably slovenly, sometimes
extravagantly overdressed, taking up a prominent place
in the House, from which he continually lays down the
law to his Radical associates around him, who usually
repay his arrogant interference with contemptuous
smiles; conceive him keeping up a running commentary of ironical cheers, supercilious smiles, and theatrical gestures, on what is going forward in the House,
and attracting attention, which does not always take
the shape of pity, toward the absurd attitudes and contortions into which he puts his diminutive person;
conceive him, after having thus, by involuntary pantomime, let out the conceit and self-sufficiency of his
disposition, rising to address the House, with a full
conviction stamped on his countenance that he alone,
of all men there, can grapple with the subject before
them-that he alone can extract truth and wisdom
from it. Remembering all that we have said about
his arrogance, his petulance, his needless repetitions
and his outbreaks of passionate violence, imagine him
confronting the House, his head, while he is standing,
scarcely reaching above the level of those of others
who are sitting around him, his arms swinging about
with convulsive energy, now raised aloft in the air,
now stretched downward toward the floor, and now
pointing horizontally across the House, his voice elevated to the highest pitch of its little capacity, and now
lowered to so feeble and inarticulate a whisper as to be
scarcely audible even to his next neighbor; imagine,
too, the conceited air of invincibility, the impotent attempts to express scorn, while rage alone is uppermost




MR. ROEBUCK.                297
in the mind, the sarcasm enfeebled by spite, the irony
arrested by chuckling self-approval, the mysterious
threatenings, the awful enunciations of nothing, and
puerile denunciations of every one, the waspish, snarling recognitions of the slightest interruptions, even
though of the most friendly character;-and you have
some idea of the applicability of the epithets so aptly
applied to his oratory by Mr. Disraeli, when he twitted him with his,, Sadler's WTells sarcasms" and,,  melodramatic malignity."  The longer Mr. Roebuck continues in parliament, the worse he seems to grow.
Once, these exhibitions were rare exceptions, occasioned, and even justified, by provocation, and the
main body of his speeches was such as to repay his
hearers for the trouble of listening, while they reflected
credit on himself. But now all his errors are multiplied, while the qualities which once redeemed them
are becoming more and more obliterated. If we look
back to his latest displays, we shall find his faults exhrbiting themselves in an increasing ratio. In the face
of such a steady and progressive decline, there does
not seem to be any sound reason to hope for better
things in future. But, on the other hand, we freely
give him credit for moral integrity, and for an exalted
sense of his political duties: it is impossible to say what
may not yet emanate from such rare and sterling qualities of mind.




SIR THOMAS WILDE.
SIR THOMAS WILDE is one of the most remarkable
living instances of the facility with which men of talent and perseverance can rise to the highest posts in
this country. He had, at the very outset of his life,
social barriers to surmount, even before he could rise
to the position of an attorney-barriers presenting to
the young man of humble origin a much more obstructive and threatening front than any political difficulties
offer to an aspirant who starts from a more favorable
position. But even in his character of barrister, Sir
Thomas Wilde was opposed by no ordinary obstacles.
He was not called to the bar until he was five-andthirty years old-a time of life at which those who
profess to be acquainted with the subject will tell you
it is utterly hopeless for any one to attempt success
in so arduous a profession, where even the most decided talent must have the sanction of time in many
years spent as a silent member of the bar, before it
can hope for an opportunity of displaying itself. Sir
Thomas Wilde's difficulties, however, did not stop
here. Circumstances of a private nature, upon which
some prejudice was created against him in the profession, would, it was said. preclude the possibility of
his ever rising to great eminence; and he had, from
the very first, to struggle, not only against that mass
of inert opposition which is one of the greatest discouragements to those who choose the bar as a profession, but also against active prejudices, which jealous
rivals were not slow to improve to their own advantage.




SIRt THOMAS WILDE.             299
Talent, however, and perseverance, will overcome
still greater obstacles than these. Great as his disadvantages were, they only make his subsequent successes
more signal and wonderful. Less than thirty years
of active professional and political life, in the course of
which, not the most malignant enemy could impute
to Sir Thomas Wilde any conduct such as would justify or corroborate early adverse impressions, present
the obscure practitioner, who, in 1816, was scarcely
deemed eligible to be admitted to the bar, in the exalted position of Lord Chief-Justice of the Common
Pleas-a position which he does not hold by political
maneuvering, but to which he was long since nominated, as being the most fit person to fill it, by the unanimous voice of the legal profession. Nor is his social
position less remarkable than his high professional
rank. Neither his origin nor his rank in society
justified him in expecting to form a high alliance. Yet
we find him the husband of a lady who, if not by the
law of succession, at least by every moral law, is one
of the nearest relatives of her majesty-a lady whose
choice, if rumor be true, was made under circumstances of romance rarely associated with the dry and austere pursuits of the law, and who thus added a sanction, at once the most prized and the most graceful, to
the privileges which, in this free country, successful
talent can command.
In thus dwelling upon the success of Sir Thomas
Wilde, it should be remembered that, during the interval between his first distinction at the bar and his first
appointment to office, he met with some obstructions.
At the bar his distinction was early recognized, and
his advance rapid. He became a sergeant in 1824,
and was made a king's sergeant in 1827. Nor was it
long before he was recognized as being oneof the first
advocates of the day. The promotion of Sir James
Scarlet, in fact, left him almost without a rival, and he




300          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
might, in one sense, be said to have had the Court of
Common Pleas at his absolute disposal. He also entered parliament as early as the year 1831, and was
not undistinguished as a speaker, though he never attained any very high eminence. Yet although opportunities were frequently occurring of offering him
that promotion to which, according to the customs of
parliament, he was entitled, it was not till 1839 that
the Whigs made him solicitor-general. In 1841, he
was made attorney-general, but did not reap the profits
or even the honors of that office, as the administration
went out only a few weeks after his nomination. But
fortune, which had so slighted him on this occasion,
made him ample amends on the sudden return of the
Whigs to power in 1846, for he had scarcely been reappointed attorney-general, and had not, in fact, been
reelected to parliament, when the late Chief-Justice
Tindal died, and he was at once raised to the bench at
the head of the Court of Common Pleas. But it
will be obvious to the reader, that some powerful
reason must have influenced the Whig government to
withhold from him during so many years that official
promotion for which he was so eligible. Whatever
may have been their reason, his exclusion continued
so long as almost to take, in the eyes of the public, the
shape of persecution. They did not forget how a
spirit of aristocratic exclusiveness had too often regulated their proceedings in the selection of members of
the government; and when, at last, Mr. Sergeant
Wilde was appointed solicitor-general, the effect of his
having apparently been placed under a ban was to obliterate in the public mind the unfavorable impressions
which rumor had circulated as to some events in his
earlier career.
Of Sir Thomas Wilde's powers as a speaker, his
continuous and triumphant success in the Court of
Common Pleas is a sufficient proof. In estimating the




SIR THOMAS WILDE.             301
quality of his mind, that success should not be allowed
too much influence. His forensic triumphs were won
rather by extraordinary ingenuity in the management
of his case, and an overpowering physical energy and
vehemence in addressing a jury, than by the display
of the higher attributes of the orator. If he had had a
more able competitor in the Court of Common Pleas, it
is questionable whether he would so quickly have attained so unrivaled an eminence. Or if, for instance,
he had been brought into close and constant competition with a man like the late Sir William Follett, he
would at once have provoked comparison, and have
suffered from it. Occasionally, the influence of a great
cause would, for a time, elevate his mind, and draw
from him passages which looked very like lofty eloquence. But these effects were transient only, and
his ordinary style was one which rather dragged down
his subject to the level of an extremely vigorous, but
still only a practical mind, and precluded the possibility
of his adding any to those monuments of forensic eloquence which have been left on record by some of his
illustrious predecessors. Not that we would, for an
instant, undervalue Sir Thomas Wilde's abilities as an
advocate; on the contrary, they were such as to inspire
absolute confidence on the part of his clients. You felt,
when you had intrusted your cause to him, that he
would not merely exercise upon it the ordinary ingenuity of a lawyer, but that he would also identify himself with your interests, and imbue himself with your
feelings, so that you should readily admit that he had
fulfilled all your wishes better than, even with the
same talents, you could have done it yourself.
As a speaker in parliament, Sir Thomas Wilde did
not, except on one occasion, take a very high rank.
He always acquitted himself with ability, and never
even approached to what might be termed a failure, by
the exhibition of lvant of vigor, or of inability to cope




302           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
with the argument of the question before him. But
he brought the habits acquired at the bar, of redundancy, repetition, and constant appeals to the feelings,
with too much carelessness, into a place where the
audience are accustomed to have their intellectual
palates catered for, even by an inferior class of speakers,
and who look for something more than a mere straightforward expression of opinion. There was always
plenty of power in his speeches, but it was rough and
undirected, and his style was loose and wanting in
emphasis. He made one great speech, however, which
gave him immediately a strong position, by showing
of what he was capable when a great occasiQn called
his powers into full play. His speech on the privilege
case of Stockdale versus Hansard was a masterly effort;
but it was no proof of parliamentary talent, because
it was an argument on law, not on politics. It was one
of Sir Thomas Wilde's faults, as a speaker, that he
took too much time to explain himself. He had no
idea of compression, or of so disposing his argument
as to avoid repetition. He would bestow upon an ordinary political speech almost as much time as he did
in his great privilege speech. In the one case this
diffusiveness was admitted to be necessary; in the other
it became insufferably tedious. It was, probably, advantageous to Sir Thomas Wilde's reputation that he
was not retained in the House of Commons long enough
for him to exhibit his comparative inferiority as the
legal advocate of the government on political topics,
and that he has been elevated to a sphere of which,
to all appearance, he is destined to render himself an
ornament.




LORD SANDON.
THOSE who firequently obtain admission to hear the
debates in the House of Commons, or who are in the
habit of attending the meetings at Exeter Hall, will
be surprised to find Lord Sandon thus included among
the orators of the age.  Strictly speaking, he has no
title to be thus selected from among the great mass
of members of parliament, who, from time to time, express their opinions in the House without aiming at
any oratorical distinction. Neither in the intellectual
quality of his speeches, nor in the manner of their delivery, is there any thing to distinguish him from the
hundreds of members of parliament who are looked
upon with confidence and respect by their constituents and the public at large. We have, however, at
the very outset of this volume, stated that the scheme
of the work does not confine it merely to those public
men who acquire distinction by the arts and graces of
oratory, but is extended to embrace those who, by
the exposition of their opinions and their general conduct as public men, succeed in securing influence over
large classes of their fellow-countrymen. Lord Sandon is one of these; and his position, whether in parliament or out of doors, is so important, that we are induced here to notice him in preference to many other
men much more prominent and notorious, whose qualifications may be much more showy and pretensious
than his, while they are far less useful.
Lord Sandon's claims as an orator may be very




304          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
summarily disposed of; they do not constitute his
greatest merit. Considering his weight in the House,
he is one of the least pleasing or prepossessing speakers there. Being a man of sound common sense,
highly educated, and with very extensive information,
the matter of his speeches is generally of a superior
order, and on questions of a higher interest than the
ordinary political topics of the day he displays an earnestness, at once religious and philosophical, which
elevates the tone of his language, and invests his ideas
with more weight and importance than would be attained by the specific value of his ideas or propositions.
But it requires some patience and observation to detect these merits under a perpetual hesitation of
speech, and an apparent confusion of utterance, which
at first produce unfavorable impressions. But a little
consideration satisfies you that these defects are of physical origin only-that the mind is right, although the
organ of speech does not immediately perform its
wonted duty. You see that there is a high tone of
moral feeling, combined with great practical knowledge,
and that the noble lord has a highly cultivated and well
regulated mind, which has been well and assiduously
applied to the elucidation and management of even the
most minute details of public business. On subjects
which have a religious bearing, such as Education, or
matters connected with the Church, he is earnest and
impressive, animated by the most exalted views for the
welfare of mankind, and sustained by principles which
he will not compromise, although ready to yield the
most liberal acceptation to the views of opponents.
On questions of practical legislation, involving the social welfare of the people, he distinguishes himself by
a mode of handling them which is at once manlike and
philanthropic - holding, with much uprightness and
ability, a middle course between the harsh dogmas of
some political economists, on the one hand, and the




LORD SANDON.                305
rash, sympathetic ardor of some political philanthropistson the other. With mild manners and benevolent
purposes he has a manly spirit, which will not suffer
itself either to be led away by delusive hopes of legislative perfectibility, or to be quelled by the threatening
influence of congregated opinion. At the same time,
although on the more vital principles of government, as
connected with religion and morals, he displays an unyielding spirit, he is fully alive to the importance of
party combinations, and to the necessity of occasional
compromises in political affairs. His high character
preserves his motive on such occasions frotn suspicion.
The most striking sacrifice he made to expediency,
within a recent period, was on the Sugar question.' It
will be remembered how his motion on the subject of
the Sugar duties jeopardized the Melbourne administration: it might naturally have been supposed that,
having taken so prominent and decisive a part on that
question, he would have felt it necessary to adhere to
a consistent course-to have been indifferent altogether to party considerations. Yet the result did not justify this expectation. Lord Sandon having given a
steady support to the great measures of Sir Robert
Peel's administration of 1841, did not choose to peril
the existence of the government, as far as his example
could have affected it, by opposing the new premier
on the Sugar question.  Yet, when we remember
what were the grounds on which his motion in the
first instance proceeded, we shall see that there was
gross inconsistency in such a course. On the other
hand, it should be remembered that Lord Sandon
steadily refused to accept office from Sir Robert Peel,
although, from his having been a member of his former government, he could have done so without impropriety or suspicion.
Lord Sandon's chief value and influence as a member
of the House of Commons, however, rest on a ground
U




306           ORATORS OF THE AGE.
wholly irrespective of politics.  There are in that assembly, as almost everywhere else, two classes of men
-the ornamental and the useful. The ornamental
members, your Macaulays, Sheils, and a host of less
distinguished men, make very fine speeches, and occasionally strike out grand ideas of policy and legislation.
But there is also a large portion of work to be done
~in parliament, for which, with all their talents, they
are unfit; and this is performed by those whom, for
distinction's sake, we have designated as the ", useful"
members. The public have but little acquaintance
with the laborious nature of the duties they have to
perform. A glance at the mass of bills, public and
private, which every session pass the House, to say
nothing of those which are arrested in their progress,
will show that not a small amount of time and attention must be bestowed on their details. Every measure is fully canvassed in all its bearings, and the most
minute inquiry and discussion instituted into the probable effects of every clause. These matters are entertained and disposed of br delegated bodies of members who are called,, Select Committees," and " Committees on Private Bills;" and of these Lord Sandon
is a frequent and most valuable member. As the limits
of time and convenience forbid these measures being
discussed in detail in the House itself, great reliance
is of course placed on the report of the Committee,
and an influential member of such committees, like
Lord Sandon, incurs constantly a serious moral responsibility. His integrity of character, the cheerful alac-.
rity with which he thus gives up his time to this the
most laborious and the least attractive part of the duties of a member of parliament, and his very general
information and correct judgment, occasion his being
constantly selected as a member of those committees.
The amount of service thus rendered to the public,
without praise or reward, is incalculable.




LORD SANDON.               307
As a platform speaker, at meetings of a religious
and philanthropic character, Lord Sandon is very influential. He is heard to much more advantage as a
speaker in this sphere than in the House of Commons,
whrere there is always something to embarrass even
the most confident and accomplished orators. Here,
too, his personal appearance propitiates-his intelligent
countenance, radiant with amability and benevolence.
Here he is always found to be one of the foremost in
the earnest and persevering advocacy of every association, or of every plan that can possibly be anticipated to be beneficial to the human race. And his support is the more valuable, because it is not the mere
ebullition of an enthusiast (who is often gratifying his
own love of activity as disinterestedly working for
his fellow-men), but the deliberate and steady determination of a practical and sensible man of the world,
who will seldom patronize or aid in the promotion of
any thing that he does not perceive to contain within
itself the elements of permanent success. Upon the
whole, according to his position and powers, we do out
know a more estimable, disinterested, or useful public
man, whether as a politician, a philanthropist, or a
man of business, than Lord Sandon.




THE REV. HUGH M'NEILE.
Ix the foregoing pages it has been the object of the
author not merely to illustrate and portray the characteristics of distinguished living orators, but also to show
by many bright examples the extraordinary influence
which the power of public speaking exercises in the
advancement of those who have to carve out their fortune in the world. It has been seen that the possession of this power, allied, of course, to other valuable
faculties, has sufficed to raise unknown lawyers to the
highest social and political rank; to draw from obscurity literary men, and bear them onward until they
have taken the most distinguished places in the councils
of the nation; and that in the case of individuals to
whom high birth has given more chance of success in
the political world, the art of oratory has been necessary not only to enable them to compete with their
less favored rivals, but also to secure them ascendency
and distinction among their own compeers. If the
limits of this volume had allowed, instances of the same
powerful influence might have been drawn from various ranks and conditions of life; for every hustings
and every platform has seen such triumphs, though
neither the sphere of action nor the rewards of successful talent have been so magnificent. But, to take
even a single instance from philanthropists, would have
required so much space as to have prevented a due
notice of more prominent and remarkable, if not always
more able, public men. One exception, however, we




REV. HUGH M'NE1LE.             309
must make, partly because the individual stands out in
such bold relief from his cotemporaries both for his talent and his success, and partly because while the sphere
of his action has been a legitimate one, his career illustrates in a remarkable degree a growing disposition in
the public mind to bring the influence of religion more
directly to bear than it did in a lax age upon the actual
business of life-to restore something of its old power
and efficacy to the office of THE PREACHER. The Rev.
Hugh MNeile has been now for many years in various
ways before the public. His name is familiar to all; but
a more intimate acquaintance with his talents and qualities of mind is possessed by, comparatively speaking,
but a few. Without pretending to enter into any thing
like a close or critical analysis of his character, we propose to supply a few of the leading traits and characteristics of this, in many respects, remarkable man,
chiefly with the view to show how, in the church as
well as at the bar, or in the senate, eloquence will raise
even a humble and unknown man to fame and fortune.
Mr. MNeile's elevation is almost solely to be ascribed to his ability as a preacher and public speaker.
Born of respectable parents residing at Ballycastle in
the neighborhood of Belfast, his early destination was
to a career very different from that which he afterward chose for himself-one in which his fine natural qualifications and the higher faculties of his mind
would have been wholly obscured. It would have
been really a loss to his fellow-countrymen had the
talents of MNeile been allowed to rust in an attorney's
office. Yet for that branch of the legal profession he
was intended; nay, he was for a portion of his early
life in an attorney's office. But either his own consciousness that he was fit for a more exalted sphere
of activity, or the friendly counsels of some good genius, persuaded him to break from the growing trammels of the law, and betake himself to a study more




310          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
congenial to the habits of his mind. He resolved to
devote himself to the Church, and commenced the
study of divinity, taking his degree of M.A. at Trinity
College, Dublin. In the mean while, he had the good
fortune to be selected by the Archbishop of Dublin
(Dr. MGee) as tutor in his family; and here those attractions and superior qualities of mind and person
which afterward rendered him so influential with a
large portion of his countrymen, won him a reward
which must indeed have been to him a prestige of-future success. Mrs. MNeile is the daughter of the
archbishop, and their attachment was formed while the
young student of divinity still held his post of tutor in
the family. Their subsequent union was with the
consent of Dr. MGee.
It can not be doubted that this was, in his then position, a most fortunate, even a splendid alliance. It
gave him not merely what he no doubt prized above all
worldly distinctions, but it also gave him that position
and that introduction into public life, the want of which
is always the greatest obstacle to one who has to rise
by his own talents, however great they may be. He
was not long in availing himself of the opportunity thus
afforded him. He was immediately successful as a
preacher. Nature had been lavish in her favor toward
him. At his present age he would be accounted one
of the finest-looking men even among his juniors by
twenty years. But at the period to which we refer,
when still very youthful, he was one of the most splendid-looking men of his day, with a commanding and
dignified person, a face strikingly handsome, even in
mere features, but far more noble from its highly intellectual expression; and a voice so magnificent as to
realize all one's conception of the perfection of voice
as an organ at once of majesty and harmony. There
is but one orator of the day whose voice even approaches that of Mr. MNeile, in its extraordinary volume,




REV. HUGH'NEILE.           131 1
capability of modulation, and sonorous tone. In Lord
Denman's best days it was as positive a pleasure to
listen to the tones of his voice, as to listen to the most
perfect vocalist. But the voice of Mr. M'Neile, exalted in all its chief charms, with the addition of much
greater power and capacity for inspiring awe. With
such qualifications as these it was not surprising that
he should soon attract large and admirinrg congregations, more especially of those who, more than our
own sex, are susceptible to spiritual influences. But
his public displays were not confined to the pulpit.
His strong political feelings, and his intense hatred, as
an Orangeman, of the Roman Catholics, made him an
eager and vehement speaker at the Rotunda meetings
in Dublin, and it can easily be conceived how his spirit-stirring tones would stimulate those excitable audiences, when he spoke on a theme in which his passions were so propitiously sanctioned by his religious
principles. The influence of the archbishop was of
course very serviceable to him in this career, his exalted position in the Church lending a sanction to even
the most violent diatribes against popery.
Mr. MNeile having for some time been one of the
most prominent characters, both as a preacher and a political speaker in Dublin, resolved to change his sphere
of action, and, like all men of high ambition, he determined at once to bring his powers to the test of the
critical opinion of the metropolis. Most of our readers
will not require to be reminded of this period of his
life. During the thirteen years in which he was located in or near London, he was distinguished as a
preacher, and also occasionally as a writer. He did
not, however, take a standing so high as he had held
in Dublin, nor did he attain an equal influence. With
a small, but highly respectable and influential class of
churchmen, he was all in all. But the public opinion
of the metropolis is, fortunately, not so readily agitated




312          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
as that of Dublin, by the breath of party passion, and
the consequence was that while the talents of Mr.
MNeile were universally admitted, they were considered to be partially obscured by the extreme virulence
of his anti-Catholic opinions. The termination of his
metropolitan mission was not exactly flattering to his
spiritual pride. He had a rival to contend against,
whose attraction, at least, though not, perhaps, his sterling value, exceeded his own. Edward Irving outHeroded Herod in the exciting stimulants he offered
to the spiritual appetite, and the malicious will have it
that on one fine day, congregation, trustees, sexton,
and all, left the exhortation of Mr. McNeile to throw
themselves at the feet of his erratic but brilliant antagonist. Of the truth of this statement the parties themselves can be only judges.
From the metropolis Mr. MNeile was invited to
Liverpool, where he has preached (at St Jude's
Church) now for twelve years. The causes which
militated against his success in London gave him at
Liverpool an immediate ascendency. Political and religious passions ran as high, at that time, in Liverpool,
as they had done in Dublin, and as the nature of
Mr. MNeile's mind led him immediately to ally himself with the Tory and Anti-Popish party there, it is
not surprising that with his extraordinary talents, energy, and enthusiasm in the cause, he should immediately have achieved a great triumph. He took a leading
position in Liverpool from the first day of his appearance there. Those who have not been accustomed to
study the provincial mind can have no conception of
either the nature or the extent of the influence Mr.
MNeile wields in Liverpool. Whatever may be the
differences of opinion as to the truth or the fairness
of his politico-religious doctrines, all must admit that
an influence which has been attended solely by the
exertion of extraordinary talents, allied to an unim



REV. NUGJlH M'NEILE,.          313
peachable moral character, is at least a legitimate one;
and if the public mind of Liverpool allows itself to be
swayed by the will of this spiritual dictator, why, the
public mind of any other part of the kingdom has no
right to complain. It appears from recent circumstances as though even the authorities of the town were,
mechanically speaking, under his thumb.
The corporation have many times shown themselves
his dutiful agents, and he is said to be as entirely mayor-maker for the good people of Liverpool, as ever the
great Warwick was maker of kings. That his influence is of no ordinary kind, over his congregation at
least, was proved shortly after the visit of Prince Albert to Liverpool some time since. He preached a
sermon upon that event, which was afterward printed
at the request of his congregation. It required no
small amount of that absolute reliance, amounting almost to adoration, with which he has inspired the people of Liverpool to make them complacently endure a
discourse with such a title as this:-,, Every eye shall
see him; or Prince Albert's visit to Liverpool, used in
illustration of the second coming of Christ." Without,
however, caviling at any extravagances which the earnest spirit of Mr. MNeile may lead him into, it is just
to him to say that he is a most active and useful member of the community to which he belongs. He is always sure to be the foremost man in any local movement. Not a meeting but boasts his presence, not an
audience but is familiar with his manly, soul-stirring
eloquence. He takes the lead in all agitations for social improvement. He would fain attach to all such
movements a religious sanction. He is not, however,
content with this, but in the enthusiastic severity of
his opinions, he always intermingles political feeling,
even with his philanthropic exertions, and by so much
he impairs his own usefulness. Of course this successful career has not been unaccompanied with more




314          ORATORS OF THE AGE.
solid acquisitions. Last year he was made a canon of
Chester Cathedral by the bishop of that diocese, who
respects his usefulness or fears his talents. In worldly wealth Mr. MNeile is rich.
Mr. MNeile's eloquence is more distinguished for
its power, energy, and declamatory vehemence, than
for the more refined and graceful, though not, perhaps,
the higher qualities of oratory. His natural advantages have influenced his style. His commanding, even
majestic presence, and magnificently sonorous voice,
pointed out to him his true sphere of excellence. But
it must not be understood that Mr. MNeile would
therefore have been disqualified to shine in a different
sphere. Had he schooled his mind and trained his faculties for more deliberate and artificial display, he possesses that natural ability and superiority which would
have enabled him to achieve a success as powerful as
any he has yet attained eithe, in the pulpit or on the
platform. But as it is, his language is more forcible
than choice; his imagination is too prone to that luxuriance which is the common fault of his countrymen;
and that torrent-like enthusiasm which, unfortunately,
is too often allied to political passions and sectarian
hatred, carries him on as if by an irresistible impulse,
in a heat of declamatory vehemence, till he forgets to
observe those nicer graces of style and language which
form one chief charm in the master-pieces of more cool,
collected, and self-restrained orators. But, on the
other hand, it is this abandonment of the mental powers to his absorbing ideas, this ready yielding to ungovernable impulses of deep feeling, that gives to the eloquence of Mr. M,Neile its originality, its grandeur,
and its irresistible power.
THE END.