He was introduced to the House as a new member to take his seat by Mr. Labouchere and Mr. Burt, but Sir Stafford Northcote intervened, and after a lengthy debate, which included a speech from Mr. Bradlaugh at the Bar, a majority of thirty-three refused to allow him to take the oath.  After a prolonged scene, during which Mr. Bradlaugh declined to withdraw and the House hesitated to use force, the House adjourned, and finally the Government promised to bring in an Affirmation Bill, and Mr. Bradlaugh promised, with the consent of his constituents, to await the decision of the House on this Bill.  Meantime, a League for the Defence of Constitutional Rights was formed, and the agitation in the country grew:  wherever Mr. Bradlaugh went to speak vast crowds awaited him, and he travelled from one end of the country to the other, the people answering his appeal for justice with no uncertain voice.  On July 2nd, in consequence of Tory obstruction, Mr. Gladstone wrote to Mr. Bradlaugh that the Government were going to drop the Affirmation Bill, and Mr. Bradlaugh thereupon determined to present himself once more in the House, and fixed on August 3rd as the date of such action, so that the Irish Land Bill might get through the House ere any delay in business was caused by him.  The House was then closely guarded with police; the great gates were closed, reserves of police were packed in the law courts, and all through July this state of siege continued.  On August 2nd there was a large meeting in Trafalgar Square, at which delegates were present from all parts of England, and from as far north as Edinburgh, and on Wednesday, August 3rd, Mr. Bradlaugh went down to the House.  His last words to me were:  “The people know you better than they know any one, save myself; whatever happens, mind, whatever happens, let them do no violence; I trust to you to keep them quiet.”  He went to the House entrance with Dr. Aveling, and into the House alone.  His daughters and I went together, and with some hundreds of others carrying petitions—­ten only with each petition, and the ten rigidly counted and allowed to pass through the gate, sufficiently opened to let one through at a time—­reached Westminster Hall, where we waited on the steps leading to the passage of the lobby.

An inspector ordered us off.  I gently intimated that we were within our rights.  Dramatic order:  “Four officers this way.”  Up they marched and looked at us, and we looked at them.  “I think you had better consult Inspector Denning before you use violence,” I remarked placidly.  They thought they had, and in a few moments up came the inspector, and seeing that we were standing in a place where we had a right to be, and were doing no harm, he rebuked his over-zealous subordinates, and they retired and left us in peace.  A man of much tact and discretion was Inspector Denning.  Indeed, all through this, the House of Commons police behaved admirably well.  Even in the attack they were ordered to make on Mr. Bradlaugh, the police used