FROM THE ARCHIVES:Conservative and Unionist politician F. E. Smith, who as Lord Birkenhead later played a central role in the Anglo-Irish Treaty, wrote pen pictures of his parliamentary contemporaries in 1912, to the approval of The Irish Times which added its own pen pictures of the Irish leaders of the day. – JOE JOYCE
In the Oxford and Cambridge Review this month Mr F. E. Smith discusses the subject of Parliamentary oratory, and illustrates his theme with criticisms of the style of some of the principal speakers in the House of Commons.
It is rather a delicate task for one who is liable to reprisals; but, on the whole, Mr Smith has performed it with tact as well as candour, and it is not likely to cause much heart-burning among the subjects of his examination. [. . .] For brevity and conciseness [Herbert Asquith, the Prime Minister] has no equal in Parliament: it is difficult to imagine that he can ever have had a superior. Whether he is introducing a Bill, or making a casual interposition in debate to answer an opponent’s attack, or winding up the case for the Government on the eve of an important division, he always seems to have at his command, as Mr Smith observes, “not merely the appropriate, but the inevitable, word.”
If there is something lacking in his oratory, it is that he seems to speak from the intellect rather than the heart. [. . .] Mr Lloyd George [Chancellor of the Exchequer] is credited by Mr Smith with possessing three distinct styles of speech, according as he is on a platform, or taking part in an excited party debate in the House of Commons, or trying to get a Bill through. In his third style, he is all sweetness and conciliation; in the other two (which are in reality one, though he is a little less reckless in the House than he is outside) he is simply a swashbuckler, laying about him lustily with any weapon that comes to hand. Two persons live together, or, as the apostle says, “war in his members.” One is a statesman: the other a demagogue; and we can quite believe that the statesman is sometimes surprised to read in the papers what the demagogue has said overnight. [ . . . ]Mr Smith naturally could not cover the whole Parliamentary field.
There are, however, several leading speakers of whom we should have liked to have his opinion. Mr Redmond, for example, is, in the opinion of some critics, the finest “orator” (using the word in its restricted sense, and not as including debater) in the House of Commons. His choice of language is almost as exact as that of the Prime Minister, and his voice and delivery are well-nigh perfect.
His principal fault is a tendency to longwindedness . . . [Mr Birrell, Chief Secretary for Ireland] says nothing in particular, but says it with so much naivété [sic] and humour that even his enemies cannot help enjoying his sallies. An absolute contrast is provided by Sir Edward Carson. There is humour in his speeches, too, but . . . only serves to set off the deadly earnestness of his attack.