Mr. Chamberlain, a pinchbeck Robespierre. - Lord Randolph Churchill

Your iron industry is dead; dead as mutton; your coal industries, which depend greatly upon the iron industries, are languishing. Your silk industry is dead, assassinated by the foreigner. Your woollen industry is in articulo mortis, gasping, struggling. Your cotton industry is seriously sick. The shipbuilding industry, which held out longest of all, is come to a standstill. Turn your eyes where you will, survey any branch of British industry you like, you will find signs of mortal disease. The self-satisfied Radical philosophers will tell you it is nothing; they point to the great volume of British trade. Yes, the volume of British trade is still large, but it is a volume which is no longer profitable; it is working and struggling. So do the muscles and nerves of the body of a man who has been hanged twitch and work violently for a short time after the operation. But death is there all the same, life has utterly departed, and suddenly comes the rigor mortis. Well, but with this state of British industry what do you find going on? You find foreign iron, foreign wool, foreign silk and cotton pouring into the country, flooding you, drowning you, sinking you, swamping you; your labour market is congested, wages have sunk below the level of life, the misery in our large towns is too frightful to contemplate, and emigration or starvation is the remedy which the Radicals offer you with the most undisturbed complacency. But what has produced this state of things? Free imports? I am not sure; I should like an inquiry; but I suspect free imports of the murder of our industries much in the same way as if I found a man standing over a corpse and plunging his knife into it I should suspect that man of homicide, and I should recommend a coroner's inquest and a trial by jury.

[S]uppose the town authorities purchased sites of land and erected great buildings such as I hold are suitable for the class that would inhabit them, the land so purchased and the dwellings so built would belong to the people of the town in which the operations took place, because the corporation or the town council is merely the representative of the people and merely distributes the rates and administers the rates they raise for the people; and, owning the houses, would own them in the name of the people, who would be virtually the owner of an enormous proportion of the dwellings in which they lived. (Cheers.) Under these circumstances, gentlemen, you would have no rack-renting, there would be no motive for rack-renting, for the profits which would arise from very moderate rents would be amply sufficient to maintain those buildings in repair, and would leave a margin for new buildings to be erected.

How many more of England's heroes—how many more of England's best and bravest—are to be sacrificed to the Moloch of Mid Lothian?