forth. The captain's nomination was seconded
by Sir James Wallsend, a young baronet who had
lately come of age, and had succeeded to a very
large property in the neighbourhood. Sir
James was a good-looking, open-faced young
fellow, a fair speaker in his way, and who looked
as if he could have knocked down half the men
in the crowd. He was just the sort of man to
take with an English mob, who, with all their
faults, admire any one who is manly in appearance.
He was, moreover, a relative by
marriage of Captain Streatham's, for his mother
and Sir Charles Vance's mother (both dead)
were sisters. The other side had selected him
to second their man for several reasons, but
chiefly because of his looks, his connexions
with the Vance family, and his being able to
speak about Captain Streatham, who held a
commission in the same regiment as himself.

Sir James did not make a long speech, nor
did he dwell much upon any political question
of the day. He evidently made a set at the
publican or sporting portion of the electors,
and assured them that if his relative and friend
was returned for their borough, he would do
his best to resuscitate the Northenville races,
which had been allowed to fall away for the
last half-dozen years. He pointed out how
much more easy of access the town was now
than it had been formerly, and ended by saying
that he hoped next year there would be
a large influx of visitors to the place, and that
the members' cup, given by his worthy relative
and brother officer, would form one of the
prizes to be run for. And having said his say,
Mr. Mellam came forward to make his bow and
speech to what he hoped would be his future
constituents.

As I have said before, at an English election
personal appearance goes for a great deal, and
in this respect both the candidates for Northenville
had nothing to be ashamed of.  Mr. Mellam
was a man of one or two-and-fifty, rather bald,
slightly grey, clean shaved except a pair of not
very large whiskers, and with that peculiarly
English appearance only seen in this country,
and more seldom now that so many wear
beards. He began by thanking the electors
for having asked him to come forward and
contest their borough, with which he had been
so long connected, and from the neighbourhood
of which he hoped never to move during his
life unless to attend to his duties in parliament,
if they did him the honour to elect him. This,
of course, was hit number one at his opponent,
whose best friends could not deny that he was
a rolling stone. Mr. Mellam said that he did
not seek election for the purpose of getting any
place or situation (hit number two); he had his
own interest in the ironworks to attend to, as
they very well knew, and those were occupation
enough for him (hit number three at the other
side) if the day were composed of forty-eight
instead of twenty-four hours. He had never
been an idle man (hit number four), as all his
hearers knew well, and now, if returned to
parliament—if honoured by being named their
representative—he would work much harder
than he ever did before, for he would have to
attend to his own business and to their business
also.

The code of signals I had agreed upon with
those who surrounded the hustings was, that
when I held my handkerchief in my right hand
they were to cheer; when I held it in my left
they were to hiss or groan; when I put it in my
pocket they were to keep silence. At this part
of Mr. Mellam's speech I pulled it out and held
it in my right hand for about a minute, during
which time there arose and continued one of
those noisy storms which newspaper reporters
designate between parentheses as "tremendous
cheering."

The day before the nomination I had strongly
advised Mr. Mellam to go in for the Cottagers'
Almshouse question early in his speech, so
that he might make sure of pleasing many of
his hearers at once, because what he said would
be in accordance with their own views. Acting
upon this hint, he spoke first of the local
welfare of the town, and said that if the electors of
Northenville honoured him by returning him to
parliament, he would do his utmost to bring in
a bill by which the surplus funds of the alms-
houses might be applied to beautifying the
town, and that thus the drainage of the borough
could be improved, a new town hall built,
the corn exchange enlarged, and the market
finished off, without increasing the local rates
by a single shilling. Of course sentiments like
these—the signal being made by me as before
—drew forth loud symptoms of approval from
the free and independent electors around the
hustings. It was our great card to play was
this of the cottagers' almshouses, and in an election
speech it is always the best policy to lead
trumps.

From local topics Mr. Mellam went on to
speak of general politics. Of future evils, of evils
which the present ministry had the audacity to
propose, he could hardly speak with patience.
They intended, if allowed to remain in office,
to destroy all, or nearly all, that was dear to
us, and whilst trying to amuse the people of
this great land with horse-races and the like (as
proposed by the gentleman who had seconded
the candidate on the other side), to lead them
away from the serious consideration of their
own affairs, and do away with that anxious careful
system of self-government which had always
been, and, he trusted, would always be, the
glory, the boast, and the pride of Englishmen.
(Here—at a signal from me—the cheering was
tremendous.) "What the party now in office
want," continued Mr. Mellam, "is to centralise
every institution, and to have under government
superintendence every national establishment.
They have succeeded with our telegraph system,
they want now to get hold of our poor-
houses, and dictate to our poor-law guardians
what they shall and what they shall not do.
Will Englishmen ever stand this?" ("No,
no," from the mob.) "They would shut up
your public-houses if they had a chance, and