host and hostess, the beautiful children, and the many charming acquaintances we met at that fireside.  I doubt whether any of the ancient lords and ladies who dispensed their hospitalities under that roof did in any way surpass the present occupants.  Mrs. McLaren, interested in all the reforms of the day, is radical in her ideas, a brilliant talker, and, for one so young, remarkably well informed on all political questions.

It was at Barn Elms I met, for the first time, Mrs. Fannie Hertz, to whom I was indebted for many pleasant acquaintances afterward.  She is said to know more distinguished literary people than any other woman in London.  I saw her, too, several times in her home; meeting, at her Sunday-afternoon receptions, many persons I was desirous to know.  On one occasion I found George Jacob Holyoake there, surrounded by several young ladies, all stoutly defending the Nihilists in Russia, and their right to plot their way to freedom.  They counted a dynasty of Czars as nothing in the balance with the liberties of a whole people.  As I joined the circle, Mr. Holyoake called my attention to the fact that he was the only one in favor of peaceful measures.  “Now,” said he, “I have often heard it said on your platform that the feminine element in politics would bring about perpetual peace in government, and here all these ladies are advocating:  the worst forms of violence in the name of liberty.”  “Ah!” said I, “lay on their shoulders the responsibility of governing, and they would soon become as mild and conservative as you seem to be.”  He then gave us his views on co-operation, the only remedy for many existing evils, which he thought would be the next step toward a higher civilization.

There, too, I met some Positivists, who, though liberal on religious questions, were very narrow as to the sphere of woman.  The difference in sex, which is the very reason why men and women should be associated in all forms of activity, is to them the strongest reason why they should be separated.  Mrs. Hertz belongs to the Harrison school of Positivists.  I went with her to one of Mrs. Orr’s receptions, where we met Robert Browning, a fine-looking man of seventy years, with white hair and mustache.  He was frank, easy, playful, and brilliant in conversation.  Mrs. Orr seemed to be taking a very pessimistic view of our present sphere of action, which Mr. Browning, with poetic coloring, was trying to paint more hopefully.

The next day I dined with Margaret Bright Lucas, in company with John P. Thomasson, member of Parliament, and his wife, and, afterward, we went to the House of Commons and had the good fortune to hear Gladstone, 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.”