ch other speakers had treated it into the purer air of permanent
principle, perhaps even of moral sublimity.

The dignity and spontaneity which marked the substance of his speeches
was no less conspicuous in their delivery. Nothing could be more easy
and graceful than his manner on ordinary occasions, nothing more grave
and stately than it became when he was making a ceremonial reference
to some public event or bestowing a meed of praise on the departed.
His expository discourses, such as those with which he introduced a
complicated bill or unfolded a financial statement, were models of
their kind, not only for lucidity, but for the pleasant smoothness,
never lapsing into monotony, with which the stream of speech flowed
from his lips. The task was performed so well that people thought it
an easy task till they saw how inferior were the performances of two
subsequent chancellors of the exchequer so able in their respective
ways as Sir Stafford Northcote and Mr. Lowe. But when an occasion
arrived which quickened men's pulses in the House of Commons, a place
where feeling rises as suddenly as do the waves of a Highland loch
when a squall comes rushing down the glen, the vehemence of his
feeling found expression in the fire of his eye and the resistless
strength of his words. His utterance did not grow swifter, nor did the
key of his voice rise, as passion raises and sharpens the voice in
most men. But the measured force with which every sentence was
launched, like a shell hurtling through the air, the concentrated
intensity of his look, as he defied antagonists in front and swept his
glance over the ranks of his supporters around and behind him, had a
startling and thrilling power which no other Englishman could exert,
and which no Englishman had exerted since the days of Pitt and Fox.
The whole proud, bold, ardent nature of the man seemed to flash out,
and one almost forgot what the lips said in admiration of the
towering personality.

People who read next day the report in the newspapers of a speech
delivered on such an occasion could not comprehend the impression
it had made on the listeners. "What was there in it so to stir you?"
they asked. They had not seen the glance and the gestures; they
had not heard the vibrating voice rise to an organ peal of triumph or
sink to a whisper of entreaty. Mr. Gladstone's voice was naturally
rich and resonant. It was a fine singing voice, and a pleasant voice
to listen to in conver