Henslow made the best of
a great opportunity. He spoke temperately, but without hesitation, and
concluded with a biting and powerful onslaught upon that class of
Englishmen who wilfully closed their eyes to the prevailing industrial
depression, and endeavoured to lure themselves and others into a sense
of false security as to the well-being of the country by means of
illusive statistics. In his appreciation of dramatic effect, and the
small means by which an audience can be touched, Henslow was a past
master. Early in his speech he had waved aside the umbrella which a
supporter was holding over him, and regardless of the rain, he stood out
in the full glare of the reflected gaslight, a ponderous, powerful
figure.
"No one can accuse me," he cried, "of being a pessimist. Throughout my
life I have striven personally, and politically, to look upon the
brightest side of things. But I count it a crime to shut one's eyes to
the cloud in the sky, even though it be no larger than a man's hand.
Years ago that cloud was there for those who would to see. To-day it
looms over us, a black and threatening peril, and those who,
ostrich-like, still hide their heads in the sand, are the men upon whose
consciences must rest in the future the responsibility for those evil
things which are even now upon us.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97