dstone,
Parnell, and Sir Charles Dilke. Seeing Bradlaugh seated outside of the
charmed circle, I sent my card to him, and, in the corridor, we had a
few moments' conversation. I asked him if he thought he would eventually
get his seat. He replied, "Most assuredly I will. I shall open the next
campaign with such an agitation as will rouse our politicians to some
consideration of the changes gradually coming over the face of things
in this country."

The place assigned ladies in the House of Commons is really a disgrace
to a country ruled by a queen. This dark perch is the highest gallery,
immediately over the speaker's desk and government seats, behind a fine
wire netting, so that it is quite impossible to see or hear anything.
The sixteen persons who can crowd into the front row, by standing with
their noses partly through the open network, can have the satisfaction
of seeing the cranial arch of their rulers and hearing an occasional
paean to liberty, or an Irish growl at the lack of it. I was told that
this network was to prevent the members on the floor from being
disturbed by the beauty of the women. On hearing this I remarked that I
was devoutly thankful that our American men were not so easily
disturbed, and that the beauty of our women was not of so dangerous a
type. I could but contrast our spacious galleries in that magnificent
Capitol at Washington, as well as in our grand State Capitols, where
hundreds of women can sit at their ease and see and hear their rulers,
with these dark, dingy buildings. My son, who had a seat on the floor
just opposite the ladies' gallery, said he could compare our appearance
to nothing but birds in a cage. He could not distinguish an outline of
anybody. All he could see was the moving of feathers and furs or some
bright ribbon or flower.

In the libraries, the courts, and the House of Lords, I found many
suggestive subjects of thought. It was interesting to find, on the
frescoed walls, many historical scenes in which women had taken a
prominent part. Among others there was Jane Lane assisting Charles II.
to escape, and Alice Lisle concealing the fugitives after the battle of
Sedgemoor. Six wives of Henry VIII. stood forth, a solemn pageant when
one recalled their sad fate. Alas! whether for good or ill, women must
ever fill a large space in the tragedies of the world.

I passed a few pleasant hours in the house where Macaulay spent his last
years. The once spacious library and th