Stansfeld yet
appears something of a survival in the House of Commons. His appearance,
his style of speech, even the framework of his thought, seem to belong
to another--in some respects a finer and more passionate period than our
own. The long hair combed straight back--the strong aquiline nose--the
heavy-lined and sensitive mouth--the subdued tenderness and wrath of the
eyes--even the somewhat antique cut of the clothes--suggest the days
when the storm and stress of the youthful century were still in men's
souls, and were driving them to conspiracy, to prison, to scaffold, to
barricades, to bloody fields. There is also a deliberation in the
delivery--a sonorousness in the phraseology--that has something of a
bygone day. But all this adds to the impressiveness of the address. The
fervour is all there, the unalterable conviction, the lofty purpose.
There is reason for the warm note of welcome which comes from the Irish
benches; for this man--perhaps disappointed--perchance not too well
used--stands up to defend his principles with the same utter
forgetfulness of self which belongs only to the finest and the truest
natures.
[Sidenote: Commercial culture.
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