houses and politically emancipated lodgings without an effort to enfranchise poor enslaved flesh and blood. In fact, they have eaten their cake, and enjoyed and digested it; it is only when a hungry beggar asks for a slice that they find out that it is poisonous.
The working women had answered to the Labour appeal; they had supported with their votes and money the new movement for what they had fondly dreamt was the representation of working people, and now they understand that those workers who are most in need of the protection of the franchise are still to be outside the pale. They do not undervalue the kind offices of individual friends, but it is a Party they supported in the time of need generously, and on a large scale, and it is to that Party that they appeal. "Be just before you are generous," is the simplest appeal in the world, and surely it is the fundamental basis of all right doing and political honesty.
It is easy to blame the Lancashire women for their reckless confidence. Certainly they scattered their bread on the waters with a princely disregard of consequences. There is a curious power in this world, the working of which we all of us feel instinctively, the force that Emerson called "The Law of Compensation." As much as you give out you draw in; what you pay the price for you earn.
Again, according to the philosopher, "There is no god dare wrong a worm"; "Power to him who power exerts." The justice inherent in things always in the end asserts itself. If you cast your bread
