Sir James arose with a look of relief on his features. He was a man accustomed to deal with the masses, and wished to offset, as much as possible, the blunders of his own proposer and the enthusiasm of the crowd over the speeches of the opposition. His speech was replete with smooth phrases, and the whole was conducted to the close with the arguments of a logician and the subtility of an old parliamentarian. He demonstrated that he had a clear grasp on the problems of the day, and the temper of the people toward them, but what he did not know was the growing popular estimation of himself among the masses. They were getting to realise that Sir James Lanyan was a "trimmer" and was more for Sir James Lanyan than anything else. He said in part: "For upwards of a dozen years I have served the people of this section as their representative in the House of Commons, and I trust that, at this time, the confidence of the electors, that they have manifested so often heretofore in my experience and labours, will still remain with me. [Hisses and groans.] These are stirring times and the storms have swept over, again and again, the ship of state, threatening to founder her, and reduce the civilisation of the grandest and most enlightened country under the sun to a melancholy wreck and ruin, battered and beaten by every sea, and a prey of the pirates of Europe. To a careful observer, what perils threaten our country? The spirit of the old-time Luddites has again broken forth in the wrecking of machinery and ruthless destruction of property, and there is trouble and turmoil on every side that, unless checked by the firm hand of a Conservative government, will bring anarchy and ruin. In the midst of all these movements come our friends of the opposition with their so-called, universal panacea of Reform. Reform! Reform what?