The Prime Minister
became "The Primisther," the Chief Secretary the "Cheesesecry," and all
this impotence was made the more manifest by thundering on the box with
his open hand--in short, it was all inarticulate, painful, perplexing
emptiness, weakened and not fortified by prolific tub-thumping. A
poor--sad--nay, a tragic business.
[Sidenote: The young man and the old.]
Such was the young man; and then came the old. To all this inarticulate,
hoarse, stammering passion, Mr. Gladstone opposed a speech gentle,
persuasive, self-possessed; as admirable in its courtesy as in its
reserve of gigantic strength. With the deadly pallor of his face more
remarkable than ever--the white hair shining out, as it were, with the
peaceful suggestion of calm and strong old age--in a voice, low, soft,
gentle--Mr. Gladstone uttered a few words which revealed all the great
depths. In completely quiet, almost inaudible tones, he uttered these
pregnant words: "As to other passages in the noble lord's speech, I do
not know whether he intended to intimidate me; but if he did, I do not
think he will succeed." There they are--these few words--so simple,
plain, even commonplace; but what a history--what a character--what a
grandeur there is behind and beneath them! So splendid are they that
even Lord Randolph is touched to the quick, and he rises to explain.
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