away from political platforms; this is my maiden speech. But twenty years ago I used this very subject as the backbone of a political satire. Twenty years ago—twenty years of ladylike methods—and how much further have they brought us? Was there the faintest progress till the other day, when a married lady went to prison to prove that she was not the same person as her husband? In that old novel of mine, Female Suffrage was passed by the Conservative Party. The prophecy has not yet been fulfilled. But I warn Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman that, unless he hurries up, my words will come true. Possibly even the House of Lords will initiate the measure as a last act of spite against Sir Henry before he abolishes it.
It is true those unladylike methods are not the only new ones which might be brought into play. The fault of the old methods was not that they were ladylike but that they were unpolitical. They exercised no pressure upon the Government. In politics only force counts. But how is a discredited minority to exercise force? The late Mr. Parnell supplied the answer. The minority must stand between the two parties, throwing its weight into either scale as opportunity offers. But does our movement possess a Parnell? Apparently, yes. The tactics which I heard the late Miss Billington expound were those of a Parnell in petticoats. But, alas! the task is far harder than that of the great Irish leader. He, at least, was inside the House, he and his men. The ladies are outside—with policemen in between. What possible influence can they exert on the divisions? It would appear that we are face to face with the old dilemma. To get a vote woman must already have one. But there is a little loophole. Every now and then the party in power has to venture outside its citadel to contest a by-election. The ladies are waiting. The constituency becomes the arena of battle, and every Government candidate, whether he is for Female Suffrage
