He began in a voice scarcely above a whisper, though in the silence it was distinctly audible, but the tones strengthened and deepened as he proceeded.  His audience hung upon his every word, and so he discoursed for half an hour.  It was not a great speech,—­a series of calm, unimpassioned statements in which clearness of phrase and absolute abstention from aggressive attack upon his opponents were the most marked characteristics.  It was courteous toward friend and foe, and foes no less than friends received each clear-cut sentence with attention most respectful.  I was a bit disappointed not to see the old lion aroused and in his grandeur.  But it is a thing to prize that I witnessed a manifestation made in his full strength and in the acme of his dominance.  It was worth while to see that even in no great mood, the force of his leadership was recognised and reserve power of the man fully felt.  Like every Achilles, Gladstone was held by the heel when dipped.  One may well feel that he came short as a theologian.  The scholars slight his Homeric disquisitions.  Consistency was a virtue which he probably too often scouted, but his high purpose, his spotlessness of spirit, and strong control of men no one can gainsay.  In the slang of the street of that time he was the “G.O.M.,” the Grand Old Man as well to those who fought him as to those who loved him.  An impressive incident of the session occurred in the address of the “Mover of the Queen’s Speech.”  The orator in brilliant court attire, a suit of plum-coloured velvet with full wig and small-clothes which seemed almost the only bit of colour in the soberly, sometimes rather shabbily, dressed assemblage, a costume which through long tradition attaches to the function which he discharged, prefaced his remarks with this tribute:  “However we may differ from the honourable member for Midlothian, we are all willing to admit that he is the most illustrious of living Englishmen.”  In spite of the general bitterness of the tumultuous controversy, one felt that there lay beneath it all a certain fine magnanimity.  Both Liberal and Tory believed in the substantial patriotism and good purpose of the adversary as a fundamental concession and that all were seeking the best welfare of England.  The differences regarded only the expedients which were proper for the moment.  One could see that foes furious in the arena might at the same time be closest personal friends.  It was not a riddle that in the tea-rooms and the smoking-rooms Greek and Trojan could sit together in friendly tete-a-tete, or that such incidents could occur as the genial congratulations extended by Gladstone to Joseph Chamberlain over the fine promise of his son Austin Chamberlain making his debut in Parliament; congratulations extended when the two statesmen were at swords’ points,—­a friendly talk as it were, through helmet bars when the slash was at the sharpest.