Then there came the last thought as the House was
hushed for his rising. What was the good of it all, when he would
never have an opportunity of speaking there again?
But not on that account would he be slack in his endeavour now.
He would be listened to once at least, not as a subaltern of the
Government but as the owner of a voice prominent in opposition to
the Government. He had been taught by Mr. Monk that that was the one
place in the House in which a man with a power of speaking could
really enjoy pleasure without alloy. He would make the trial,--once,
if never again. Things had so gone with him that the rostrum was his
own, and a House crammed to overflowing was there to listen to him.
He had given up his place in order that he might be able to speak his
mind, and had become aware that many intended to listen to him while
he spoke. He had observed that the rows of strangers were thick in
the galleries, that peers were standing in the passages, and that
over the reporter's head, the ribbons of many ladies were to be seen
through the bars of their cage. Yes;--for this once he would have an
audience.
He spoke for about an hour, and while he was speaking he knew nothing
about himself, whether he was doing it well or ill. Something of
himself he did say soon after he had commenced,--not quite beginning
with it, as though his mind had been laden with the matter.
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