This dear old man was my first tutor in Radicalism, and I was an apt pupil.

I had taken no interest in politics, but had unconsciously reflected more or less the decorous Whiggism which had always surrounded me.

I regarded "the poor" as folk to be educated, looked after, charitably dealt with, and always treated with most perfect courtesy, the courtesy being due from me, as a lady, to all equally, whether they were rich or poor.

But to Mr.
Roberts "the poor" were the working-bees, the wealth producers, with a right to self-rule not to looking after, with a right to justice, not to charity, and he preached his doctrines to me in season and out of season.

I was a pet of his, and used often to drive him to his office in the morning, glorying much in the fact that my skill was trusted in guiding a horse through the crowded Manchester streets.