[Sidenote: The bond of the Railway Rates.]

These are somewhat remote reflections from the squat figure, the harsh
and grating voice, and the commonplace rhetoric of Mr. Bartley--so far
can fancy and insight lead one astray in that great stage of Titanic
passions which is spread on the floor of the House of Commons. And what
significance of great historic issues and reminiscences there were in
the scene were likewise lost on Dr. Hunter. To him the universe at the
moment--all the tremendous destinies on the knees of Mr. Gladstone--all
the millionfold hopes and hungering longings that were involved--were as
nought in comparison with the fact that the motion of Mr. Gladstone
deprived him of the opportunity of raising a debate on Railway Rates.
Coldly, calmly, self-confidently, Dr. Hunter attacked the Government in
its weakest place, and drove the dagger home through the vulnerable
side. The weakness of the position was this: there was a strong,
vehement, and widespread revolt in the House against the exactions of
the railway companies. Liberal members had on the subject exactly the
same feelings as Tories; nightly a score of questions were asked on the
subject. Altogether, indignation had broken down party lines, and
against the railway companies Liberal and Tory made common cause.
Unfortunately, Dr. Hunter's case had been strengthened by a somewhat
weak yielding of Mr. Gladstone to a demand for a day on Bimetallism.
This demand had, it is true, been urged upon him from various parts of
the House, including his own, and he seemed to be yielding to a pretty
universal demand. But Bimetallism was a craze with no chance of even
distant success, while Railway Rates were at that very moment urgently
calling for redress from hundreds of threatened industries. It would be
seen then what a dexterous weapon for striking the Government the
selection of the day for Railway Rates was.