The Disowned — Volume 02Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
The Disowned — Volume 02
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
A pause ensued, the chairman looked round, the eyes of the meeting
followed those of the president, with a universal and palpable
impatience, towards an obscure corner of the room: the pause deepened
for one moment, and then was broken; a voice cried "Wolfe!" and at
that signal the whole room shook with the name. The place which
Clarence had taken did not allow him to see the object of these cries,
till he rose from his situation, and, passing two rows of benches,
stood forth in the middle space of the room; then, from one to one
went round the general roar of applause; feet stamped, hands clapped,
umbrellas set their sharp points to the ground, and walking-sticks
thumped themselves out of shape in the universal clamour. Tall,
gaunt, and erect, the speaker possessed, even in the mere proportions
of his frame, that physical power which never fails, in a popular
assembly, to gain attention to mediocrity and to throw dignity over
faults. He looked very slowly round the room, remaining perfectly
still and motionless, till the clamour of applause had entirely
subsided, and every ear, Clarence's no less eagerly than the rest, was
strained, and thirsting to catch the first syllables of his voice.
It was then with a low, very deep, and somewhat hoarse tone, that he
began; and it was not till he had spoken for several minutes that the
iron expression of his face altered, that the drooping hand was
raised, and that the suppressed, yet powerful, voice began to expand
and vary in its volume. He had then entered upon a new department of
his subject. The question was connected with the English
constitution, and Wolfe was now preparing to put forth, in long and
blackened array, the alleged evils of an aristocratical form of
government. Then it was as if the bile and bitterness of years were
poured forth in a terrible and stormy wrath,--then his action became
vehement, and his eye flashed forth unutterable fire: his voice,
solemn, swelling, and increasing with each tone in its height and
depth, filled, as with something palpable and perceptible, the shaking
walls. The listeners,--a various and unconnected group, bound by no
tie of faith or of party, many attracted by curiosity, many by the
hope of ridicule, some abhorring the tenets expressed, and nearly all
disapproving their principles or doubting their wisdom,--the
listeners, certainly not a group previously formed or moulded into
enthusiasm, became rapt and earnest; their very breath forsook them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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