as vice
itself--not to say that such a book as the one in question is not only
a far lesser evil than the one that it combats, but in one sense a
book which it is a mercy to issue and courage to publish."

The _Examiner_, reviewing the same book, declared it to be--

"A very valuable, though rather heterogeneous book.... This is, we
believe, the only book that has fully, honestly, and in a scientific
spirit recognised all the elements in the problem--How are mankind to
triumph over poverty, with its train of attendant evils?--and
fearlessly endeavoured to find a practical solution."

The _British Journal of Homoeopathy_ wrote:--

"Though quite out of the province of our journal, we cannot refrain
from stating that this work is unquestionably the most remarkable one,
in many respects, we have ever met with. Though we differ _toto coelo_
from the author in his views of religion and morality, and hold some
of his remedies to tend rather to a dissolution than a reconstruction
of society, yet we are bound to admit the benevolence and philanthropy
of his motives. The scope of the work is nothing less than the whole
field of political economy."

Ernest Jones and others wrote yet more strongly, but out of all these
Charles Bradlaugh alone has been selected for reproach, and has had
the peculiar views of the anonymous author fathered on himself.

Some of the lecture work in those days was pretty rough. In Darwen,
Lancashire, in June, 1875, stone-throwing was regarded as a fair
argument addressed to the Atheist lecturer. At Swansea, in March,
1876, the fear of violence was so great that a guarantee against
damage to the hall was exacted by the proprietor, and no local friend
had the courage to take the chair for me. In September, 1876, at
Hoyland, thanks to the exertions of Mr. Hebblethwaite, a Primitive
Methodist, and two Protestant missionaries, I found the hall packed
with a crowd that yelled at me with great vigour, stood on forms,
shook fists at me, and otherwise showed feelings more warm than
friendly. Taking advantage of a lull in the noise, I began to speak,
and the tumult sank into quietness; but as I was leaving the hall it
broke out afresh, and I walked slowly through a crowd that yelled and
swore and struck at me, but somehow those nearest always shrank back
and let me pass. In the dark, outside the hall, they took to kicking,
but only one kick reached me, and the attempts to overturn the cab
were foiled by the