itted. If, however,
Birmingham grows and prospers all will be well. If otherwise--and the
last census did seem to indicate that our progress, as measured by
increasing population, was inclined to steady down--Birmingham will have
a huge debt in the future which even a large supply of good wholesome
water will not altogether liquidate.

Returning, however, to make a few further observations respecting Mr.
Chamberlain, it may be said now that the voices of those who had any
grudge against him for the daring innovations he made, and the bold
undertakings he promoted, have become nearly mute. There are, however,
some who speak disparagingly of him, partly, perhaps, because they are
envious of him, and cannot complacently realise his rapid rise to the
position of eminence he has attained.

Some of his former Radical friends and associates especially denounce in
no measured terms his unpardonable heresy in departing from what they
consider was his old political path. Vituperation is almost too mild a
term to describe their expressed disgust when they see one who was, they
believed, a man of the people consorting with royal dukes, belted earls,
and even with the Sovereign herself. This is too much for some of the
old full-blooded Radicals who are still found in our midst.

Very possibly some of these would do the same if they had the chance,
for your thorough-going Radical is often a curious creature. I remember
once being at a London theatre with a friend of mine who was a desperate
and despotic democrat, and who has been a leading light for years among
our advanced Radicals. Now it so happened that on the evening of our
visit the Prince of Wales was at the theatre we attended, and I was
greatly amused to notice how interested my democratic friend was in
watching the royal box. When the performance was nearing the end he
amused me still more by suggesting that we should hurry out and watch
the Prince drive off. "I do so like to see that sort of thing," he
added.

Mr. Chamberlain, however, is not the man to care what his foes or his
old political friends think or say about him. Water on a duck's back is,
I fancy, an oppressive agony compared with the right honourable
gentleman's feelings when he hears or reads the condemnatory and abusive
remarks of some of his former allies. If at any time he does perchance
feel at all stung by any of the adverse criticisms he hears or reads, he
takes care not to show that he is hurt.