he simplicity
of his manner, the total absence of anything like showing off; another
that she should never attend another meeting if he were announced to
speak, as she could not bear the excitement. Simplicity and profound
emotion were the secrets of his influence. The London Opera House saw
similar scenes once a month, from 1843 till the end of the struggle.
Villages and towns, and all classes of society, were instructed in the
principles of the League and induced to help forward the cause. Not only
did the wealthy factory owner, conscious as he was of the loss which the
high price of food inflicted on the manufacturing interest, contribute
his thousands; the factory hand too contributed his mite to further the
welfare of his class. Even farmers were led to take a new view of the
needs of agriculture, and the country labourer was made to see that his
advantage lay in the success of the League. It was a farm-hand who put
the matter in a nutshell at one of the meetings: 'I be protected,' he
said, 'and I be starving.'

In 1843 Bright joined his leader in Parliament as member for Durham
city, though his Quaker relatives disapproved of the idea that one of
their society should so far enter the world and take part in its
conflicts. In the House of Commons he met with scant popularity but with
general respect. He was no mob orator of the conventional type. The
simplicity and good taste of his speeches satisfied the best judges. He
expressed sentiments hateful to his hearers in such a way that they
might dislike the speech, but could not despise the speaker. Even when
he boldly attacked the Game Laws in an assembly of landowners, the House
listened to him respectfully, and the spokesman of the Government
thanked him for the tone and temper of his speech, admitting that he had
made out a strong case. But it was in the country and on the platform
that the chief efforts of Cobden and Bright were made, and their chief
successes won.

In 1845 they had an unexpected but most influential ally. Nature herself
took a hand in the game. From 1842 to 1844 the bad effects of the Corn
Laws were mitigated by good harvests and by the wise measures of Peel in
freeing trade from various restrictions. But in 1845 first the corn, and
then the potato crop, failed calamitously. Peel's conscience had been
uneasy for years: he had been studying economics, and his conclusions
did not square with the orthodox Tory creed. So when the Whig leader,
Lord