It now became an offence to him that Beauchamp should continue doing this
in the speeches and lectures he was reported to be delivering; he stamped
his foot at the sight of his nephew's name in the daily journals; a novel
sentiment of social indignation was expressed by his crying out, at the
next request for money: 'Money to prime you to turn the country into a
rat-hole? Not a square inch of Pennsylvanian paper-bonds! What right
have you to be lecturing and orationing? You've no knowledge. All
you've got is your instincts, and that you show in your readiness to
exhibit them like a monkey. You ought to be turned inside out on your
own stage. You've lumped your brains on a point or two about Land, and
Commonland, and the Suffrage, and you pound away upon them, as if you had
the key of the difficulty. It's the Scotchman's metaphysics; you know
nothing clear, and your working-classes know nothing at all; and you blow
them with wind like an over-stuffed cow. What you're driving at is to
get hob-nail boots to dance on our heads. Stukely says you should be off
over to Ireland. There you'd swim in your element, and have speechifying
from instinct, and howling and pummelling too, enough to last you out.
I 'll hand you money for that expedition. You're one above the number
wanted here. You've a look of bad powder fit only to flash in the pan.
I saved you from the post of public donkey, by keeping you out of
Parliament. You're braying and kicking your worst for it still at these
meetings of yours. A naval officer preaching about Republicanism and
parcelling out the Land!'

Beauchamp replied quietly, 'The lectures I read are Dr. Shrapnel's. When
I speak I have his knowledge to back my deficiencies. He is too ill to
work, and I consider it my duty to do as much of his work as I can
undertake.'

'Ha! You're the old infidel's Amen clerk. It would rather astonish