‘Well, that is what I am coming to. Remove the pauper, place him in a new world, and with better surroundings, and he will become a better man. My friend is quite prepared to do so; he is ready to help the poor to emigrate to the colonies or America.’ ‘But if the colonies or America will not have them, what are you to do? They may object—in fact, they do object to the poor of this country being thrown destitute and helpless on their shores.’ ‘That is true; but my friend is resolved to send out only deserving men and women whose characters will be carefully inquired into, and to send them out under competent guides. He proposes to buy a large estate in some eligible part of the world, where land is cheap, where the climate is healthy, and where all that is wanted to develop the fruits of the earth, and to ensure health and happiness to the people, is human labour. Of course, he does not propose to deal with the masses; but he has an idea, that if he makes an attempt and it succeeds, other wealthy and benevolent men will follow his example, and thus the amount of crime, and misery, and poverty in England may be diminished.’ ‘But why not try such a scheme in England?’ ‘The expense is too great; the rates and taxes are too heavy, and the difficulties created by land-laws and lawyers are too great. Besides, there would always be the danger of the men breaking away in sudden fits of ill-humour and discontent, and getting back to their old bad habits and evil companionship. They must leave all the evils of the old world behind them and start clear. You will come with us, Buxton?’ ‘With all my heart,’ was the reply. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE FINAL RESOLVE. The following letter was addressed to her _protégé_ in Liverpool by Rose immediately after the consultation already described: ‘MY DEAR BOY, ‘Wentworth and I have formed a scheme for the future in which we hope you will unite. ‘We propose to establish a co-operative self-supporting community on the other side of the Atlantic. ‘Old England is played out. It may be that there is a new England to arise out of the ashes of the old, but it seems rather that—like Rome, and Athens, and Tyre, and India, and Babylon, and Corinth, and Carthage—its glory has passed away. The democracy will rule the land, and that means the separation of Ireland and England, the ruin of the landlords and of the capitalists, who in their turn will be sacrificed to the popular demand for a theoretical right. A member of Parliament will simply have to be the mouthpiece of his constituents; he will be imposed on them, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, by an assembly of wealthy, ambitions men, prepared to do anything to retain their hold of power.