their strength and fame rested on the construction of their
sermons. But, to return to the intrinsic merits of the
statement--yes, O'Connell and Father Burke were great orators in
_spite of_, and _not because of_, the fact that they spoke
extemporarily. So crude were some of O'Connell's speeches, so
careless was he of their dress, that Shiel complained: "He flung
a brood of young, sturdy ideas upon the world, with scarce a rag
to cover them."

If ever there was a case when the man made the sermon instead of
the sermon making the man, it was the case of Father Burke. How
little he owed to his sermons and how much they owed to his
delivery is left on record by a capable judge. Sir Charles Gavan
Duffy says: "Father Burke was a born orator; the charm of _voice,
eye and action_ combined to produce his wonderful effects. When
his words were printed much of the spell vanished. One rejoiced
to _hear_ him over and over again, but _re-read_ him rarely, I
think."[1] The greatest tribute that can be paid to the genius of
these two orators is that compositions, wordy, loose, abounding
in repetitions, in their mouths enthralled multitudes. Every
defect disappeared; the mastery, the dazzling brilliancy of their
oratory swept all hearts and blinded criticism. We well may pause
before answering the question: What effects would they have
produced had they time to write masterpieces of finished beauty
like those of Grattan and of Bourdaloue? where each link in the
chain of argument hangs in glittering strength, and each thought
shows the flash of the gem and its solidity too.

[1] "My Life in Two Hemispheres," Vol. II., 274.