mbitions.

The hope of the revolutionists bore these strokes and others as mighty
with complacency, as though they had been so many playful taps; and while
the battle surged hotly around him he sat calmly listening or making
occasional notes with a gold pencil. Born leader that he was, he was
biding his time. Mr. Bascom's attack was met valiantly, but unskillfully,
from the back seats. The Honourable Jacob Botcher arose, and filled the
hall with extracts from the "Book of Arguments"--in which he had been
coached overnight by the Honourable Hilary Vane. Mr. Botcher's tone
towards his erstwhile friend was regretful,--a good man gone wrong
through impulse and inexperience. "I am, sir," said Mr. Bascom to the
Speaker, "sincerely sorry--sincerely sorry that an individual of such
ability as the member from Leith should be led, by the representations of
political adventurers and brigands and malcontents, into his present
deplorable position of criticising a State which is his only by adoption,
the political conditions of which were as sound and as free from
corporate domination, sir, as those of any State in the broad Union."
(Loud cheers.) This appeal to State pride by Mr. Botches is a master
stroke, and the friends of the champion of the liberties of the people
are beginning (some of them) to be a little nervous and doubtful.

Following Mr. Botches were wild and scattering speeches from the back
benches--unskillful and pitiable counter-strokes. Where was the champion?
Had he been tampered with overnight, and persuaded of the futility of
rebellion? Persuaded that his head would be more useful on his own neck
in the councils of the nation than on exhibition to the populace from the
point of a pike? It looks, to a calm spectator from the gallery, as
though the rebel forces are growing weaker and more demoralized every
moment. Mr. Redbrook's speech, vehement and honest, helps a little;
people listen to an honest and forceful man, however he may lack
technical knowledge, but the majority of the replies are mere incoherent
denunciations of the Northeastern Railroads.

On the other hand, the astounding discipline amongst the legions of the
Empire excites the admiration and despair even of their enemies; there is
no random fighting here and breaking of ranks to do useless hacking. A
grave farmer with a beard delivers a short and temperate speech (which he
has by heart), mildly inquiring what the State would do without the
Northea