The Tables Turned | Page 6

in spite of the liberty
which is the proud possession of every Briton, whatever his rank or
fortune; in spite of the eager competition and steadily and swiftly rising
wages for the services of the workmen of all grades, so that such a
thing as want of employment is unheard of amongst us; in spite of the
fact that the sick, the infirm, the old, the unfortunate, are well clothed
and generously fed and housed in noble buildings, miscalled, I am free
to confess, _work_houses, since the affectionate assiduity of our noble
Poor Law takes every care that if the inmates are of no use to
themselves they shall at least be of no use to any one else,--in spite of
all these and many kindred blessings of civilisation, there are, as you
may not know, a set of wicked persons in the country, mostly, it is true,
belonging to that class of non-respectable foreigners of whom my lord
spoke with such feeling, taste, and judgment, who are plotting, rather
with insolent effrontery than crawling secrecy, to overturn the sacred
edifice of property, the foundation of our hearths, our homes, and our
altars. Gentlemen of the Jury, it might be thought that such madmen
might well be left to themselves, that no one would listen to their
ravings, and that the glorious machinery of Justice need no more be
used against them than a crusader's glittering battle-axe need be
brought forward to exterminate the nocturnal pest of our couches. This
indeed has been, I must say unfortunately, the view taken by our rulers
till quite recently. But times have changed, gentlemen; for need I tell
you, who in your character of shrewd and successful men of business
understand human nature so well, that in this imperfect world we must
not reckon on the wisdom, the good sense of those around us.
Therefore you will scarcely be surprised to hear that these monstrous,
wicked, and disreputable doctrines are becoming popular; that murder
and rapine are eagerly looked forward to under such names as
Socialism, revolution, co- operation, profit-sharing, and the like; and
that the leaders of the sect are dangerous to the last degree. Such a
leader you now see before you. Now I must tell you that these Socialist
or Co-operationist incendiaries are banded together into three principal
societies, and that the prisoner at the bar belongs to one if not two of

these, and is striving, hitherto in vain, for admittance into the third and
most dangerous. The Federationist League and the International
Federation, to one or both of which this man belongs, are dangerous
and malevolent associations; but they do not apply so strict a test of
membership as the third body, the Fabian Democratic Parliamentary
League, which exacts from every applicant a proof of some special
deed of ferocity before admission, the most guilty of their champions
veiling their crimes under the specious pretexts of vegetarianism, the
scientific investigation of supernatural phenomena, vulgarly called
ghost-catching, political economy, and other occult and dull studies.
But though not yet admitted a neophyte of this body, the prisoner has
taken one necessary step towards initiation, in learning the special
language spoken at all the meetings of these incendiaries: for this body
differs from the other two in using a sort of cant language or thieves'
Latin, so as to prevent their deliberations from becoming known
outside their unholy brotherhood. Examples of this will be given you
by the witnesses, which I will ask you to note carefully as indications
of the dangerous and widespread nature of the conspiracy. I call
Constable Potlegoff.
[CONSTABLE POTLEGOFF sworn.
_Mr. H_. Have you seen the prisoner before?
Pot. Yes.
_Mr. H_. Where?
Pot. At Beadon Road, Hammersmith.
_Mr. H_. What was he doing there?
Pot. He was standing on a stool surrounded by a dense crowd.
_Mr. H_. What else?
Pot. He was speaking to them in a loud tone of voice.

_Mr. H_. You say it was a dense crowd: how dense? Would it have
been easy for any one to pass through the crowd?
Pot. It would have been impossible. I could not have got anywhere near
him without using my truncheon--which I have a right to do.
_Mr. H_. Is Beadon Road a frequented thoroughfare?
Pot. Very much so, especially on a Sunday morning.
_Mr. H_. Could you hear what he said?
Pot. I could and I did. I made notes of what he said.
_Mr. H_. Can you repeat anything he said?
Pot. I can. He urged the crowd to disembowel all the inhabitants of
London. (Sensation.)
_Mr. H_. Can you remember the exact words he used?
Pot. I can. He said, "Those of this capital should have no bowels. You
workers must see to having this done."
_J. N_. Stop a