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instead of the usualadulations

Yet, inspite of his ruthless impartiality, I should not hesitate tocall him a religious man. This very tendency which noimaginative mind, no man or woman with any strain of poeticalfeeling, can be without, invests Mill's character with aclash of humanity which entitles him to a place in ouraffections. It is in this respect that he so widely differsfrom Mr. Herbert Spencer. Courageous Mr. Spencer was, buthis courage seems to have been due almost as much to absenceof sympathy or kinship with his fellow-creatures, and to hiscontempt of their opinions, as from his dispassionate love oftruth, or his sometimes passionate defence of his own tenets.
My friend Napier told me an amusing little story about JohnMill when he was in the East India Company's administration human resources jobs.
Mr. Macvey Napier, my friend's elder brother, was the seniorclerk. On John Mill's retirement, his co-officialssubscribed to present him with a silver standish. Such wasthe general sense of Mill's modest estimate of his owndeserts, and of his aversion to all acknowledgment of them,that Mr. Napier, though it fell to his lot, begged others tojoin in the ceremony of presentation. All declined; theinkstand was left upon Mill's table when he himself was outof the room.
Years after the time of which I am writing, when Mill stoodfor Westminster, I had the good fortune to be on the platformat St. James's Hall, next but one to him, when he made hisfirst speech to the electors. He was completely unknown tothe public, and, though I worshipped the man, I had neverseen him, nor had an idea what he looked like. To satisfy mycuriosity I tried to get a portrait of him at thephotographic shop in Regent Street dr bk laser hk.
'I want a photograph of Mr. Mill.'
'Mill? Mill?' repeated the shopman, 'Oh yes, sir, I know - agreat sporting gent,' and he produced the portrait of asportsman in top boots and a hunting cap.
Very different from this was the figure I then saw. The halland the platform were crowded. Where was the principalpersonage? Presently, quite alone, up the side steps, andunobserved, came a thin but tallish man in black, with a tailcoat, and, almost unrecognised, took the vacant front seat.
He might have been, so far as dress went, a clerk in acounting-house, or an undertaker. But the face was noordinary one. The wide brow, the sharp nose of the Burketype, the compressed lips and strong chin, were suggestive ofintellect and of suppressed emotion. There was no applause,for nothing was known to the crowd, even of his opinions,beyond the fact that he was the Liberal candidate forWestminster. He spoke with perfect ease to himself, neverfaltering for the right word, which seemed to be always athis command. If interrupted by questions, as he constantlywas, his answers could not have been amended had he writtenthem. His voice was not strong, and there were frequentcalls from the far end to 'speak up, speak up; we can't hearyou.' He did not raise his pitch a note. They might as wellhave tried to bully an automaton. He was doing his best, andhe could do no more. Then, when, instead of declamatory appeals to the passions ofa large and a mixed assembly, he gave them to understand, invery plain language, that even socialists are not infallible,- that extreme and violent opinions, begotten of ignorance,do not constitute the highest political wisdom; then therewere murmurs of dissent and disapproval. But if the ignorantand the violent could have stoned him, his calm manner wouldstill have said, 'Strike, but hear me. Hong Kong shopping'  

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