ntative organisations were then
presented to Sir Edward Carson, in many of which the determination to
resist the jurisdiction of a Dublin Parliament was plainly declared. But
such declarations, although they undoubtedly expressed the mind of the
people, were after all in quite general terms. For a quarter of a
century innumerable variations on the theme "Ulster will fight, and
Ulster will be right," had been fiddled on Ulster platforms, so that
there was some excuse for the belief of those who were wholly ignorant
of North Irish character that these utterances were no more than the
commonplaces of Ulster rhetoric. The time had only now come, however,
when their reality could be put to the test. Carson's speech at
Craigavon crystallised them into practical politics.
Sir Edward Carson's public speaking has always been entirely free from
rhetorical artifice. He seldom made use of metaphor or imagery, or
elaborate periods, or variety of gesture. His language was extremely
simple and straightforward; but his mobile expression--so variable that
his enemies saw in it a suggestion of Mephistopheles, and his friends a
resemblance to Dante--his measured diction, and his skilful use of a
deep-toned voice, gave a remarkable impressiveness to all he said--even,
indeed, to utterances which, if spoken by another, would sometimes have
sounded commonplace or obvious. Sarcasm he could use with effect, and a
telling point was often made by an epigrammatic phrase which delighted
his hearers. And, more than all else, his meaning was never in doubt. In
lucidity of statement he excelled many much greater orators, and was
surpassed by none; and these qualities, added to his unmistakable
sincerity and candour, made him one of the most persuasive of speakers
on the platform, as he was also, of course, in the Law Courts.
The moment he began to speak at Craigavon the immense multitude who had
come to welcome him felt instinctively the grip of his power. The
contrast to all the previous scene--the cheering, the enthusiasm, the
marching, the singing, the waving of handkerchiefs and flags--was deeply
impressive, when, after a hushed pause of some length, he called
attention without preface to the realities of the situation in a few
simple sentences of slow and almost solemn utterance:
"I know full well what the Resolution you have just passed means; I
know what all these Addresses mean; I know the responsibility you
are putting up
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