The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-11-01 00:00:00

•-rw -711kr''

• lUJ NOV. 1 .1884

1 MI nitllllß lITSERTED.I
AMBITION'S LADDER.
Ey eke Author of " Atlierstcrne Grange," 64 A .Life fot
a Love," 4v.

CHAPTER XXIV.
A NEW SPHERE.,
Small service is true service while it lasts,
Of friends, however humble, scorn not one
The daisy by the shadow that it casts,
Protects the lim,•erng. dewdrop from the sun.
ARRIVED at his bachelor abode—a suite of rooms on
the floor over the shop tenanted by his Lootmaker
inKing-street, St. Jam es' —G eorge Sart ori s
proceeded to open the door with his latch .key, and
while so doing lost sight for one moment of his
prisoner.
The space of time during which his attention
.was diverted was so short that the seconds might
have been counted, but brief as was the interval it
sufficed to give an opportunity which the other was
not slow to take advantage of, and darting rapidly
away with a noiseless, gliding motion that attracted
no notice from Mr. Sartoris, he had reached the
corner of the street before that gentleman dis-
covered his escape.
His first impulse was to give chase, but he stopped
short after a few yards.
"Let the beggar go," he muttered, turning slowly
back with a careless shrug of his shoulders. "After
all, what could I do with him ?"

And once more he was on the point of entering
his lodgings when he heard a low, panting sound
behind him, and looking round he saw the late
fugitive standing, twisting his cap about in his
hands in an embarrassed manner, and looking at
him with a half-fearful, half-confident glance.
"Oh, you've come back, have you ?" coolly
observed Mr. Sartoris, though the unlooked-for
incident excited some little wonderment in his mind.
"Thought better of it, eh ?"
"Yes, sir," humbly replied the lad, "I could have
got clean away you know."
"That's a matter of opinion, if I had given chase.
Your mind is not altogether perfect, and I've shown
you once before to night that I can outrun you."
" Ah I" replied the lad, with a cunning twinkle
in his eye. 'But that was over open ground. You
couldn't catch me if you didn't know which way I
'went, and just round the corner I know- the short
cuts through two or three entries where I could have
dodged you to rights."
" Indeed ! May I enquire, mien, why if you felt
so confident of getting clear you altered your
mind ?" _ _ _

The lad looked steadily up at his questioner
before answering. When he did makereply, it was
with a bold outspoken frankness that Mr. Sartoris
recognised and admired.
"I'll tell you sir," he answered presently.
." You'd trust me like, and though I couldn't help
hooking it when I see'd the chance, I says to myself,
'' He's a gentleman, he is, and doesn't mean to act
'like a sneak.' I considers to myself as how you
wouldn't bring me here if you meant putting me
in quod, and if not for that, What then?' says I.
P'raps he means good,' I thinks, and I ain't such a
fool as to think I don't want no good done me, so
here I am, sir, and I asks your pardon for running
away when I promised not to."
"Oh, you do, do you ?" said Mr. Sartoris,
amustsdly. "That is 'very polite of you, Pm sure.
I don't know, though, whether upon the whole your
after-thought was altogther the wisest. However,
come upstairs after me—quietly, if you please—and
I will consider what I shall do."

Without a word the lad obeyed him, and presently
stood in a raom, round which he gazed in furtive,
awe-struck wonder at its luxurious fittings, while
Mr. Sartoris was helped into a loose coat and
slippers by a smug, highly respectable-looking
elderly man, who, whatever inward astonishment he
might feel, was too well- trained a servant to allow
a muscle of his face to betray his feelings at the
sight of the strange companion his master had
brought home.
"That will do, Davis," Mr. Sartoris said, when
his change of apparel was effected. "You can go
for the present, but I may want you again by-and
bye, so remain up."
Left alone with the youth whose tattered attire
and half-starved appearance contrasted so strangely
with the surrouncings into which he was in-
troduced, Mr. Sartoris commenced his question-
ings, watching intently the while for any slip or
attempt at deception.
"I want y-au to use plain language, and tell me
the truth—the whole truth, mind—about yourself,"
he said, having settled himself comfortably with a
cigar, and motioned the ill-clad, shivering youth
tea seat. "What I decide upon doing with you
depends entirely upon that, so it will be the worse
for you if you try to impose upon me.'
The caution was not needed. It was a plain,
unromantic tale he listened to of a worse than un-
cared-for boyhood, a life-long apprenticeship to
crime with no other reward than curses and hard
living, from which the victim had at last desperately
fled.

"He never cared a rap for me, didn't my dad,"
said the youth. "So long as I took good money
home for the flash coin he gave me to change he
didn't use 1 to treat me so bad, neither, but when I
began to fall off—cos why, I found the game too
hot after one or two narrow squeaks I had— he
took to larruping me till I couldn't stand it no
longer. I wouldn't have stood it as I did only for
my little sister, as was born when mother died, and
the time came when I cut my lucky from him
altogether. I tried—tried hard enough, Lord
knows—to make a living honest, but I 'mowed
nothing, nobody would have nothing to do with me,
and so I had to take to what 1 could do. I don't
. always prig—but what's a fellow to do? If I
can pick up an odd job now and then at the
markets or railway, well and good, but if there
ain't none to be got—and it's more often that way
nor t'other—a chap can't starve, can he, now ?"
To this appeal Mr. Sartoris made no reply
beyond a slight upraising of his eyebrows, which
might be taken in any way, thSugh in truth his
crust of selfishness was penetrated by the lad's sad
earnestness and downright bluntness of confession,
which had the more effect upon him that it was
unaccompanied by any display of mock penitence or
hypocritical cant.
"The long and the short of it is this," he said at
last, "you are a thief by birth and breeding, but
you profess—and lam half inclined to believe you
—not by choice--"
" You're right there, sir," eagerly broke in the
lad. "I don't mean to say—p'raps—as I should
have found it out but for one thing, and that is
that prigging don't pay nohow. But I didn't know
no other way, and even when I did try to get a
honest living it wasn't any use, which I calls hard
lines, and no mistake."
" I daresay," drily returned Mr. Sartoiis.
"Though for that matter hard lines—as you call
them—fall to the lot of many men in this world,
deserving and the contrary. However, we need
not discuss that point. What is your name by the
way ?"
" Bradley, sir.
christened."

Edward Bradley I was

"I beg to correct you. Edward alone you were
christened. Not that it matters much. So, Edward,
you can go to bed now —l'll tell my man to put you
somewhere to sleep—and in the morning 11l have
another talk with you."

--
With which Mr. Sartoris dismissed his guest,
after giving instrut tions to Davis for his entertain-
ment, and before retiring to rest himself had very
nearly decided what to do.
It was rather a rash resolve, perhaps, that he
took, though—contrary to what might fairly have
been looked for—the experiment succeeded. Only.
that morning he had learned from Davis, who had
served him long and on the whole to his satis-
faction, that circumstances had occurred whioh
would henceforth deprive him of his valet's
valuable servkes, that gentleman feeling reluctantly
compelled to resign his situation, having accepted
a7rnore lucrative one in the shape of a snug little
business hitherto the property of a widow whom
he had persuaded to change her condition and be-
come Mrs. Davis.

There was, of course, nothing that George Sartoris
could object to in this, but the announcement was
all the more ill-timed that he had just then com-
pleted all his arrangements previous to leaving
England for a lengthened period, and was at a loss
as to how he should supply his man's place. Of
course there would have been no actual difficulty,
but Mr. Sartoris was hard to please, and Davis
desertion of his post at such a moment appeared to
him as the height of ingratitude. Still, there was no
choice for him but to accept the man's resignation
and look out for another servant.
But though this seemed so easy a matter, it was
not one in reality to be lightly accomplished. Short
as was the notice, several apparently eligible
candidates had presented themselves for the post,
but none whom Mr. Sartoris approved. Why then
should he not make a bold experiment and test the
capabilities of a stranger, and here was one thrown
in his path by accident whom he might train in his
own way, aud would be bound to him by the tie of
fear as well as gratitude ?•
At first be laughed at himself for entertaining so
ridiculous vn idea, but the .notion----strange as it
was —gathered force, till he found himself seriously
arguing the pros and cows. of the question. The
most serious drawback that presented itself was the
youth's complete ignorance of wha.t duties would
be required of him, but against this Mr. Sartoris
argued that they were such
of
as might be easily
acquired in a very short space f time, and a positive
advantage lay in the fact that there would be nothingto unlearn, a point of no small importance to one
who liked everything. done had
learned his way, and
h
learned from past experience ow
.difficult it is to
stir the mind of an average servmgman from its
ordinary groove.
Then again—and to most peog he lad was ai this objection
would have had overwhelming fo
thief whom he had caught red-handed, who con-
fessed that his whole life had been passed in dis-
honest courses. Oddly enough, however, this
circumstance did not strike Mr. Sartoris as the
most insuperable drawback. The lad had evidently
some rains of shrewdness in his composition, and
recognized the advantages of honesty. Besides, for
that matter, servants are all much alike, he argued.
Davis himself, for all his respectability and smug

decorum, had certainly feathered kis nest pretty
warmly, and--
But it is not at all necessary to follow Mr.
Sartoris through the whole of his reflections on the
subject. Suffice it to say that he made the trial he
contemplated—risky as it was—and was lucky
enough to secure thereby a more faithful, devoted
and willing attendant than had ever fallen to his
lot before. Neither is it requisite to tell how after
Edivards—for so Mr. Sartoris renamed him—had
got over the first surprise of so astounding a proposal,
he fell naturally and easily into his new master's
ways, till Mr. Sartoris would not have parted with
him upon any account.
Once only did Edwards give him occasion for
complaint. He left his work"one morning—it wao
some tour or five years after their first acivaintance,
and Mr. Sartoris was paying one of his infrequent
visits home—and remained absent till the next day,
when he returned with as cool an air as though his
absence had been a matter of course.

To his master's angry questions he replied openly,
out without making any excuses, that he had been
to see his father.

" Oh, indeed" said George Sartoris, sternly.
"Do you remember that I made a bargain with
you against that very occurrence ever taking
place F"
"Yes, sir, I know, and I shouldn't have broken
my promise only for the one thing. I ain't likely
to see the old man again."
"What do you mean? Is he ? Likely
to " _

"Go off the hooks, sir? No. He's well enough,
but they've lagged him."
"I wish you'd keep your' slang—for a fitting
occasion," Mr. Sartoris told him sharply. " You
mean transported, I suppose ?"
‘• Exactly, sir."
"What for ?"

"The old game he used to carry on. Smashing."
What? Then he was one of the gang that was
broken up last month. I remember seeing an
account of the affair. So, that Bradley is your
father, eh? Upon my word I've got a very re-
spectable valet !"
"Well, sir," Edwards replied in an unmoved
manner, "you knew all about that long enough ago.
If you want to get rid of me for that reason say so,
and I'm ready to go, though I should be sorry enough
to :eave you."
&nd as George Sartoris would have been equally
unwilling to part with him his offence was con-
doned.

"Though you might have paid me the compli-
ment of asking for leave I think," grumbled the
gentleman, as Edwards helped him into his coat.
"I should not have refused it for such an occasion.
However, don't let it happen again."
"No, sir, not for the next dozen years or so, at
any rate."
"Why, is that his sentence F"
"Yes, sir. Pretty heavy, ain't it? And all
through a sneaking spy who—but I'll be even with
the treacherous hound yet, if ever I get the
chance."

"Ah ! it's as well:to put in a saving clause when
one makes vows of vengeance. They're seldom
executed except in plays and novels, Edwards,"
remarked his master.

"Maybe not," doggedly returned the man. "I
mean what I say, though. If ever I come across
him it'll be a bad day either for me or Ali k
Wood."
" Wood !" muttered Mr. Sartoris, pansinz in the
act of drawing on his g'oves and knitting his brows
reflectively. "It's not a very uncommon name,
Edwards, but it seems to strike a chord in my
memory. Where can I have heard it before P"

" I shouldn't say as you would ever have been
likely to hear of the fellow I mean, sir," replied
Edwards. "I knew him well enough when we were
boys. His mother used to lot lodgings in Marsh-
lane, Lambeth, just out of Stangate. '
George Sartoris looked puzzled for a moment, and
then gave a great start of surprise.
"By Jove !" he exclaimed. " What a coincidence!
That's the very name and address I have tried to
remember. Do they live there now ?"
" Who? the old peoide, sir ?" said Edwards,
wondering not a little what possible knowledge his
master could have of the inhabitants of such a
locality as Marsh-lane. "No, sir, they're both
dead, and their son, Mick, is gone—my sister with
him, curse them both !—and if ever 1—"
But Mr. Sartoris was in no mood to listen to the
man's threats of vengeance. He was really excited
at the idea of having so strangely hit upon a clue
that had escaped him, and questioned Edwards
closely, at last revealing to him part of his reasons
for the curiosity he exhibited.
"Mrs. Grant !" exclaimed the man. "Of course
remember her well, poor thing. She got drowned
she did—no one could toll how—and there was a
little boy of hers—Lennie, they called him—who
Alick Wood took care of afterwards. And do you
mean to say, sir, as she was a real lady, and the boy
ought to have slot of money ?"

" I do."
"And the letters that Mrs. Grant gave you to
prove it was stole from you the same night ?"
Yes.''
Well, of all the strange things !" Edwards ex-
claimed. "Then he warn't lying after all F'
" Who ?"
" Alick Wood."

"What do you mean?"
"I mean this, sir. He was the cove as prigged
your pocket-book that night," answered Edwards,
forgetting inhis excitement the distaste Mr. Sartoris
had expressed for his slang phrases. "He told me
all about it then, at least that he'd found some
papers as would make his fortune some day."
"If you can prove this, Edwards," said Mr.
Sartoris, almost as much excited as his servant;
"if you can only ferret out this fellow, and help
me to recover my property and find the boy, it
shall be the best day's work you ever did in your
life."

But though Edwards used every endeavour the
result was absolute failure. All trace of Alick-
Wood was lost, and no news could be gleaned of
the orphan whom, for his own purposes, he had
taken under his charge, and after awhile the
natural indolence of Mr. Sartoris again prevailed,
and he allowed the matter once more to sink into
the oblivion from which it had been so nearly
rescued.

Possibly—nay, most probably—had he confided
in his father, the sequel would have been a different
one, but to this he was averse, having a secret con-
sciousness that his former conduct might receive no
measured condemnation, and as the elder Mr. Sartoris
on his part never thought of mentioning the subject
of Dr. Sampson's protege, that once chance more
of the missing link to Edwards's knowledre was
also lost.

All these, however, though matters necessary to no
made known, were events of long past date at the
period to which this story has arrived.
George Sartoris was on his road to Paris, but a
slight accident—a stumble which twisted his ankle
when alighting from the train fora few moments at
Rouen—bad stayed his further progress for a time.
The hurt was not sPrious—a few days at the outside
would give him liberty of motion once more, but
in the meantime he was compelled to inaction.
It was annoying, certainly, for he hated hotels,
and here he was forced to remain in one where the
cookery was, to him, execrable ; the look-out from
his window, which faced the quays, dull and un-
interesting; and the town itself holding not a living
creature of his acquaintance. Still, there was no
help for it, and Mr. Sartoris was philosopical
enough not to expend his temper in railing against
the inevitable.

Chance, as it very often will, rewarded him for
his patience, even made him grateful for the acci-
dent which had before seemed only a subject of
annoyance. _ _ _

It was the third day after his arrival, and he was
so far convalescent that, with the aid of a stick and
Edwards's supporting arm, George Sartoris was
just enabled to hobble from his bed-chamber to the
front room, where, comfortably propped up with
pillows, he reclined on a couch by one of the
windows, with a bottle of St. Julien and a dish of
fruit beside him, the Times of yesterday close to
his elbow, and a list oF arrivals at the Hotel Jeanne
D'Arc —brought to him each morning by Edwards
—in his hand.

"Not that it's at all likely anybody I know would
be coming to such a beastly hole," he muttered,
grumblingly. "But there's always the chance, and
--By Jove !"
Almost the first name his eye fell upon was that
of a man with whom, man x years before, his
intimacy had been of the closest. The Honour-
able Louis Southwell then, but now Lord Lyn-
wood.

"What on earth can have brought him here, o
all places in the world ?" exclaimed Mr. Sartori%
having assured himself that he was not mistaken.
"But no matter how. Here' Edwards! Quick,
man! What are you staring out of that window for.
with your mouth wide open? I want you to go at
once with my card to-"
But to his surprise, not to say wrath, Edwards
paid not the slightest attention to his ccmmands,
did not even appear to notice them, but - without a
word of apology or explanation darted across the
room, out of the door, and in less than a minute
afterwards his master saw him rushing bareheaded
along the quay.
(To be continued.)

The government of the house of the Brahmiti. is
' strictly in the hands of the man of the father during
the youth of the family, and of the eldest son after
he marries. The son always takes his wife home to
the parental roof, and as the sons marry, additions
are tuilt to the house until it becomes a village in
itself. In this place the women are imprisoned—
literally buried alive. From the day of their mar-
riage; which is at a very early age, they never see
more of the outer world than the narrow.expause of
sky 7and cloud that looks' dawn upon them between
the walls of their prison home. No men are allowed
to enter the house but the members of the family and
the pyist, except on very rare occasions, and when
unseen by the women. Married at ten years—for
spinsterhood is abominable—mothers at twelve, they
are faded and old at the beginning of their fifth
lustrum. They die of sheer old age at about thirty.
She: "Will you join me in a cup of tea, Mr.
Simpkins?" Mr. Simpkins: " Ah, thank you; but
wouldn't it be rather crowded?"

THE PEERS AND THE FRANCHISE.

DEMONSTRATION IN LONDON.

A demonstration took place on Sunday afternoon
in Hyde-park of working men's political clubs, tem-
perance organisations, and " orders " for mutual aid
and in sickness and distress, which was organised to
protest against the continued existence of the House
of Lords as a legislative assembly. It was attended
by enormous throngs of people, who, in an orderly
manner, carried out the programme arranged for the
occasion. Although it is difficult to form anything
approaching an exact estimate, yet there could not
have been far short of 80,000 persons present.
There were nine different processions into the park,
and in order that proper time should be given for the
meeting it was arranged that there should be no com-
bined procession, the experience of the July demon.
stration hang shown that the time taken in passing
through the streets led to difficulties in gathering the
people around platforms at the meeting places. Hence
the clubs and associations from east, west, north, and
south, with bands and banners, entered the park at
different gates. They were met by large crowds
of sympathisers at all the gates, but that at
Apsley House gate was exceedingly large, and,
though few police were to be seen, the people
were very orderly. Apsley House, as usual on
such occasions had its blinds drawn and the side
shutters closed, but there was no attention paid to
houses by either the people forming the processions of
the onlookers. The progress of the processions
through the streets was watched with evident curiosity
and interest by large crowds of onlookers. This was
especially the case at Trafalgar-square and along Pall-
mall. The Hackney and Tower Hamlets division, as
they passed the Carlton Club, gave a loud groan, but
this was one of the very few ebullitions of party feel-
ing that took place during the march. Many of the
banners bore inscriptions such as these: "The House
of Lords is useless and dangerous, and must be
abolished," "Down with the Lords," and "The House
of Lords, opponents of civil and religious liberty, must
be abolished." The crowd loudly cheered the driver
of a drag, who wore a marquis's coronet and
a robe of many colours, and also bore a placard
with the words "Out of work." Another vehicle
bore a tombstone, with the inscription "To
the memory of the House of Lords." The bands
played the Marseillaise, and, passing over the park,
the multitude settled down to nine platforms in the
north-west part of it. Each of the platforms had an
audience which would have more than filled any of
the large meeting halls of London. Besides the
audiences there were immense crowds of onlookers,
and. though there was, as is usual on such oecasions, a
good sprinkling of the rough element, yet this was
kept in order by bands of working men, who had made
it known that they would guard their meetings from
attack.

It had been expected that Michael Davitt, the
Irish agitator, would have been among the speakers,
but he sent to Mr. Trant, the president of the National
Federation of Radicals, a letter which was regarded
as of interest. Mr. Davitt wrote:

"I regret I cannot see my way to take part in the
proposed demonstration on Sunday. Anything calcu-
lated to intimidate the House of Lords into reason-
able action is, in my opinion, a mistake. They ought
to be encouraged in every possible way to continue
their opposition to the enfranchisement of the people.
If they are frightened into submission now their
existence as a hereditary Chambey will be made
tolerable for some years more. Why should demo-
crats who demand the abolition of such an assembly
resort to any policy which may result in the building
of a bridge across which the Lords may retreat from
their present asinine attitude of antagonism to the
democracy of Great Britain and Ireland? The mast
thorough way in which to destroy the power of an
enemy to the popular cause is to resort to such plans
as will compel that enemy to be the instrument of its
own destruction. The Lords ought to be encouraged
by all means'to throw out the Franchise Bill again,
and then those Liberals who now want advanced
Radicals to intimidate the noble omadhauns into
doing what will be convenient to the Whigs and
harmless to the 'Upper House will either have to join
a movement for the total abolition of an irresponsible
assembly, or stand apart froth work whieh they are
afraid to undertake."

There was no lack of speakers, however, notwith-
standing Mr. Davitt's refusal to be present, and not-
withstanding, too, the withdrawal of the Secularists
for some reasons expounded by Mr. Bradlaugh. The
first platform, in front of which congregated the
people from the eastern districts, was presided over
by Major S. Hume, Liberal candidate for Maidstone,
and the speakers were members of the Tower Hamlets,
Hackney, Poplar, and Limehouse Radical Associa-
tions. The second platform was presided over by
Mr. Conybeare, 8.A., of the People's League and the
speakers were members of the London Municipal
League, and Patriotic Club, and other associations,
The third platform had for its chairman Mr. A.
Stearn, and had for the speakers trades unionists
and two barristers-at-law. The fourth platform
had Mr. Southaate, of the Cobden Radical Club,
and the speakers included members of the western
Radical Clubs. The fifth platform had the Rev.
Stewart Headlam for chairman, and the speakers were
Mr. J. C. Durant, the Rev. W. E. Moll, M.A., Mr. T.
F. Walker, of Birmingham, Mr. Patrick Hennessy,
and Mr. Foulger. The sixth platform had Dr. Pants.
hurst, of Manchester, for chairman, and among the
speakers were some from Dartford and Gravesend.
Mr. Thorold Rogers was the appointed chairman of
the seventh platform, but he was unable to be present,
and Mr. W. S. Shirley, M.A., Liberal candidate for
Preston, that of the eighth platform, and the speakers
included Dr. Clark, of the Highland Reform Associa-
tion, and representatives of the Radical Associations
of Dulwich, Peckham, Southwark, West Ham,
Bristol, and Huddersfield. The ninth and last plat-
form wall presided over by Mr. Trant, of the National
Radical Federation. The resolution adopted at all
the platforms was "That the House of Peers in
Parliament is useless and dangerous, and ought to be
abolished," and this having been carried by acclama-
tion, it was further agreed that a petition should be
presented to the House of Commons in favour of the
object set forth in the resolution.
Major Hume, in opening the proceedings at the
first platform, said the time had at length arrived
when the English people were able and ready to
govern themselves. He did not suppose any of them
were animated by any particular hatred against the
aristocracy. (Cries of "We are.") They in England
had not suffered through the aristocracy as the French
peasantry did before the Great Revolution; but still
they had suffered bitterly and cruelly in the past, and
they were present to protest against what they con-
sidered to be an obsolete and effete institution—viz.,
an hereditary Chamber of legislators. (Cheers.)
There was a very large attendance round the plat-
form where Dr. Pankhurst, of Manchester, who it is
expected will contest Lambeth at the next election,
presided. He had with him as supporters Mr Loxton
Hunter, Mr. W. H. Foster (secretary of the People's
League), Mr. Levirton, Mr. Durant, and Mr. Joseph
Cartwright (of the Erith Liberal Association). In
opening the proceedings Dr. Panlsburst said that that
great triumphant demonstration had met there to
stand up for the liberties of the people against a pri-
vileged and tyrannical faction. By conquest, by force,
and by fraud the peers had become the masters and the
lords of the land. By conquest, by tyranny, and by
jobbery they had possessed themselves of the soil,
and, not content with that, they now demanded to
be lords over the legislation of the people and over
their liberties. They were met there to say that that
should not be. (Loud cheers.) They were standing
up to say that the people of England should be the
lords of England. Their cup was full, and their
patience was exhausted. Ages of wrong and of
tyranny cried out against the lords for justice. On
the head of the lords were centuries of historic guilt.
There was the guilt of the blood and treasure shed
and wasted in the long French war. On their head
was the guilt of the desolation of Ireland. The Irish
exile in other lands hated the English people because
of the deeds of the English lords. On their head lay
the guilt of the misery and desolation of the English
agricultural labourer. The nearer one got to the
lords the worse his destiny became. The agricultural
labourer was nearest to them, and be was the most
miserable man on the face of the earth. They said,
and England said with them, "Down with the House
of Lords !" (Loud cheers.) Parliament could not
settle the question, but the people could and would do
so. Mr. Forster, in moving the resoluton, Paid that ho
appeared that day as representing the People's League,
which had been formed to protest against legislation by
an animal succession. (Laughter and cheers.) Mr.
Gladstone—(cheers)--on Thursday night, turning to
that "patient Grissel "of the Tory party, Sir Stafford
Northcote, asked him whether he thought, if the
Franchise Bill were again thrown out, that would be
the only question before the people. He said, "Let
us take care that they do not combine with the Fran-
chise and Redistribution something more critical even
than both." (Cheers.) That was the existence of the
House of Lords. His own opinion, and he would ex-
press it very freely, was that not Mr. Gladstone, nor
twenty Mr. Gladstones, could prevent that question
_from passing into the hands of the people. He did
not make war on the peers as peers, but as here-
ditary legislators. The peers now existed only on
suffrance, for the patience of the people had been
exhausted. Three-fourths of the misery of the
population, three-fourths of the vice and pauper-
ism which prevailed in the country, proceeded
directly from what the lords had done, and from what
they had prevented better and wiser men from doing.
Mr. Leverton, in seconding the resolution, contended
that he House of Lords was useless, as a body of
hereditary legislators was not required to revise or to
obstruct measures which were passed by the people's
House of Commons. It was also dangerous, as it
was a survival of the barbarous ages where property
was acquired by force and fraud. Mr. L. Hunter
ghpported the resolution, saying that they were not
there that day to discuss the Franchise Bill, because
lie regarded that as good as passed. Nor was their
object to iiiotest against any one particular action
of the House of Lords, but it was to raise their
voices against its very existence. They believed that
the time had come for the abolition of a chamber
whose acts had been so tyrannical and arbitrary,
and whose conduct was so invariably unjust. Other
speakers, including Mr. Cartwright and Mr. Solo-
mons, having supported the resolution in short and
vigorous speeches, the Chairman put it to the meet-
ing, when it was carried with enthusiastic cheering,
, as far as could be seen no hand being held an against it.