Just as the mob were on the point of being goaded to the verge of madness by the London orator, the young man from Bethesda Chapel, as he was called, claimed to be heard. At first he was received with disfavour. He was a stranger to them all. That was against him. It was still more against him that he had on a black coat and a white choker. A still further offence was it that his tone was that of a gentleman. Angry words were heard. He was a spy—a Government informer—a wolf in sheep’s clothing—and ought to be ducked in the nearest horse-pond. It was urged that he might be permitted to speak, in order that he might show what a fool he was. The London orator especially headed all these anti-sympathetic demonstrations. ‘I am a parson,’ said Mr. Wentworth—then there was a tremendous burst of indignation—‘and I come here to show that a parson may feel for a poor man, and may aid him in his efforts to obtain political power. It is not all parsons who take tithes, but if you would abolish tithes to-morrow, the only effect would be that the landlord would be richer, that is all, as the difference would only go into the landlord’s pocket; but I come here to say, with you, that you must have political power; that it is unjust and unfair to deprive you of it; and I say so because I am a firm believer in a book which is very unpopular here, called the Bible. It is because I read that book that I wish you well. My Bible tells me that I “must love my neighbour as myself”; that I must do to others as I would have others do to me; and how can I do this so long as we have class legislation, and injustice, upheld in the name of law? I deny the right of Government to exclude you from the franchise. I agree with much that has been said. There are abuses to be remedied. There are rights to be gained. In the past you have had unjust treatment, partly owing to your own ignorance and partly to the selfishness of your rulers. You have been refused education; you have been reduced to the condition of serfs; you have been unfairly taxed; you have been denied the chance of getting an honest living; you have been sacrificed to high rents; and I think the parsons are much to blame that they have not more openly taken your part. They have been too prone rather to ask you to submit to what they call the dispensation of Providence than to assist you in your righteous efforts to get rid of bad laws and to secure better. It is to be feared that, in some respects, you have acted indiscreetly. Why turn friends into enemies by the bitterness of your invective and by the absurdity of your exaggerations?’ Here there were signs of disapproval. ‘You have been badly advised.’ (‘No, no!’) ‘You are too easily made the dupe of the designing demagogue.’ Here the London orator grew very angry, and resented the attack as personal, as perhaps it was. ‘By the violence of your attacks on those who are ready to help you, you make the gulf