fiver?” was my reply; and the agent went away faster than he came. My next visitor was a pleasant, plausible representative of some workmen’s league, to assure me of his support, and then, with abundance of promise, he went his way, leaving me to look for a performance of which I saw no sign. Then came the ladies. Would I give them an interview? Some of them wanted to set me right on Temperance questions; others on topics on which no right-minded woman should care to speak, and on which few would speak were it not for the morbid, sensational, hysterical feeling which often overcomes women who have no families of their own to look after, no household duties to discharge, no home to adorn and purify. As I had no town house, and did not care to invite the ladies to the smoking-room of my club, I in every such case felt bound to deny myself the pleasure of an interview. But my correspondents came from every quarter of the land. Some offered me their services; others favoured me with their views on things in general. It was seldom I took the trouble to reply to them. One gentleman, I fear, will never forgive me. He was an orator; he sent me testimonials on the subject from such leading organs of public opinion as _The Eatanswill Gazette_ or _The Little Pedlington Observer_, of the most wonderful character. Evidently as an orator he was above all Greek, above all Roman fame, and he was quite willing to come and speak at my meetings, which was very kind, as he assured me that no candidate for whom he had spoken was ever defeated at the poll. I ought to have retained his services, I ought to have sent him a cheque, or my thanks. Doubtless he would have esteemed them, especially the latter. Alas! I did nothing of the kind. But oh! the wearisome canvassing, which seems to be the only way to success. Meetings are of little avail, organisation is equally futile, paid agency simply leads the candidate into a Serbonian bog, where Whole armies oft have perished.