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CANON BARNETT 
 
 HIS LIFE, WORK, AND FRIENDS 
 
 BY HIS WIFE 
 
 ' Feae not to Sow bboausk op the Birds ' 
 
 In Two Volumes, with Thirty-nine Illustrations 
 VOL. I 
 
 WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 LONDON 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W, 
 
 1918 
 
 t- 
 

 
 '^/> 
 
 Aix Bights Resketed 
 
PREFACE 
 
 BY THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 
 
 A RECORD of the life of Canon Barnett has been eagerly 
 looked for not only by his friends but by the large number 
 of naen and women whom his words and example have 
 stimulated and inspired. There was only one person who 
 could write this record. For the life which it presents was 
 not a single life. It was, with a singularly beautiful com- 
 munity of mind and spirit, shared, understood, interpreted, 
 and sustained by his wife. Indeed Canon Barnett used to 
 say, with a characteristic touch of humility, that he was 
 but the mouthpiece of his wife and had the courage of her 
 opinions. The words which he used in the introduction to 
 one of their joint volumes on Practicable Socialism are true 
 not only of that book but of the whole life of its authors. 
 " Each essay is signed by the writer, but in every case they 
 represent our common thought as all that has been done 
 represents our common work." Yet this very fact has 
 imposed upon Mrs, Barnett a task of very exceptional 
 delicacy and difficulty. When she undertook to write 
 the Life of her husband her intention was to follow the 
 usual method, and give an account of his life, of his teach- 
 ing, and of his public work. But the friends who saw the 
 plan of the book counselled her to give frankly and fully 
 the only picture which could be true to the reality, the 
 picture of two lives united in efforts, principles, and aims. 
 AH who knew Canon Barnett knew that this advice was 
 right. But it is only due to the wider public^whom this 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 book will reach that it should understand why it must 
 need be the presentation of a " marriage of true minds " 
 and of an exceptionally perfect and fruitful comradeship. 
 As one who owes to Canon Barnett the first impulse to 
 the service of his fellow-men and who enjoyed his stimu- 
 lating friendship for many years, I deem it a privilege to 
 be allowed to write these words of preface and explanation. 
 Times have changed since he died. We stand on the 
 threshold of a new age. But the lessons in this book of 
 single-hearted service for God and man are of abiding value. 
 " Even now abideth faith, hope, and love ; but the greatest 
 of these is love." 
 
 Cosmo Ebor : 
 
THE PLAN OF THE BOOK 
 
 By Mrs. S. A. Babnbtt, C.B.E. 
 
 It is very difficult to write a biography, and especially if 
 the writer loves the character that is to be shown to the 
 world. What is to be given, what withheld ? Is the best to 
 be revealed ? Is it too good ? Are faults to be told ? Mis- 
 takes chronicled ? 
 
 All through the time that this book has taken me to write, 
 I have striven to bear in mind the standard of the greatest 
 biographers of the Greatest Life. Those simple Galileans, 
 in their eagerness to explain their Master, thought nothing 
 too sacred to reveal, not even the fear of death nor the 
 agony in the garden. They reported many a characteristic 
 conversation, even if they got it from a suspected source, 
 such as the woman of Samaria. They told of the depres- 
 sions of fatigue, the mistaken judgment in a disciple's 
 character, and of the error concerning a fact of natural 
 history. 
 
 But it is hard to follow this lofty standard when the hfe 
 and the love are so closely bound up with oneself. Many 
 times have I been tempted to keep his best only for myself ; 
 but I have given of my gems, reahsing that it is not what a 
 man does so much as what he is that helpa forward striving 
 souls, and my husband's tenderest depths could only be 
 known to his wife. 
 
 I have therefore endeavoured to treat myself as a dramatist 
 would, and, costly though it has been, to consider his wife as 
 if she had not been myself. And when one is near the end 
 of life, one feels that whatever the pain of publicity, it will 
 soon be over, and then there will be left the evidences of the 
 deep noble affection of a deep and noble character for his 
 comrade, friend, and wife. Fearlessly therefore I have 
 depicted him amid his father's dourness, his mother's love, 
 his family's bourgeois ways and petty interests. With inten- 
 tion I have dwelt on his early manhood, and given in full 
 
viii THE PLAN OF THE BOOK 
 
 many of the letters of that period, because they show the 
 young man as nothing else can do, and because from them 
 can be gathered the capacity for growth which was so dis- 
 tinctive a feature in my husband's nature. To him it was of 
 no consequence by what channel the suggestion came, be it 
 lovingly by the voice of a friend, or rudely from the impersonal 
 press. As soon as he was shown a more excellent way, he 
 immediately adopted it. Thus he grew more than anyone 
 I have ever known, and this capacity for a changing 
 sequence makes his biography very interesting. It could 
 be said of him : 
 
 " Rejoice that man is hurled 
 From change to change unceasingly. 
 His soul's wings never furled." 
 
 The evidences of this power of growing are scattered aU 
 over the book. It was the same man who at twenty-seven 
 laid the poor drunken wretch on the floor of the van to 
 travel for hours at the feet of the girl he loved, who became 
 the courteous gentleman who never let his wife open the 
 door for herself, and of whom one who had lived in Toynbee 
 Hall for many years wrote that he had " unfailing beautiful 
 manners." It was the same man who in early life disap- 
 proved of illness and showed it by severity, whose presence 
 in later years was eagerly looked for by the sick and dying. 
 It was the same man who began his work among the poor 
 with the sternest tenets of repressive rehef , who yet became 
 the advocate for free breakfasts for all school children, 
 gratuitous medical relief, and universal pensions. 
 
 This power of growth made him provocatively puzzling, 
 and also apparently inconsistent, an estimation which his 
 enjoyment of paradoxes and epigrams accentuated. 
 
 His temper was naturally of the sweetest, yet he was often 
 surprisingly censorious. His sympathy was both imagina- 
 tive and subtle, and yet he would harden his heart against 
 the most piteous evidences of poverty, if his economic 
 principles were involved. His generosity in big matters was 
 sometimes reckless, and yet his parsimony in small ones 
 could be both comic and annoying. His patience was part of 
 his religious dependence on God, and yet it was united to rest- 
 less ruthless energy for reform. His trust in human nature was 
 all-embracing, yet no one investigated the statements of 
 applicants more searchingly. His humility was one of the 
 centres of his nature, and yet he assumed responsibilities and 
 
THE PLAN OP THE BOOK ix 
 
 accepted positions which were hardly compatible with 
 self-depreciation. His admiration for people was often 
 exaggerated — and this must be remembered when his letters 
 to me are read — yet it was joined to the most rigid criticism, 
 and the refusal to be satisfied for everyone with any standard 
 less than that of his " Christed self." He shrank from and 
 disliked any dealings with occultism, but he possessed, 
 and recognised, a rare capacity for pre- vision — for instance, 
 I remember a walk at Antibes in the early seventies when he 
 said: 
 
 " The next health campaign will be an open-air cure. 
 Night and day, winter and summer, patients will be kept 
 with only roof shelter." 
 
 At least twenty years ago, when war was far from men's 
 thoughts, he said : 
 
 " England will have to awake to an understanding of what 
 her faith in Christianity means and then to fight for it." 
 
 Many years before Marconi staggered the world by his 
 discovery, my husband wrote : 
 
 " Prayer may permeate an invisible medium and influence 
 action, just as it may be found that electricity can permeate 
 invisible ether and produce results." 
 
 All these traits make a very interesting character, all the 
 more because his whole being was dominated by Religion. 
 He talked very little about it, and positively disliked abstract 
 discussions on the unknowable ; but his normal attitude was 
 one of worship of God, and Christ he felt to be his contem- 
 porary. This was the key-note of his hfe ; and among 
 the multitude of notes that went to make his music, it 
 could always be heard by all who hstened, though its 
 influence was more often felt than recognised. 
 
 A very full life is difficult to depict because of the large 
 quantity of material. To select, when all is interesting, 
 needs the sympathy which tells not only what people want 
 to know, but what they don't know they want. I have 
 been helped by much kind advice. Bishop' Ryle hoped the 
 story would be told as much as possible in my husband's 
 " own words, for they were unstereotyped and often pregnant 
 with thought." Mr. Alfred Spender bade me " soak " 
 myself in Canon Barnett's writings, for " only thus could 
 his biographer catch the unexpected originality of his ideas." 
 Earl Grey, Dean Fremantle, Sir Edward Cook and many 
 other friends begged that the Memoir should be a joint one of 
 both our lives. The advice of all has been taken as far as it 
 
X THE PLAN OF THE BOOK 
 
 has been possible. Indeed it has been the conscientious 
 examination of the enormous masses of papers which has been 
 partly responsible for the delay in the issue of these volumes. 
 
 Unlike most biographies, Canon Barnett's life has been 
 dealt with in subjects and not chronologically. I thought 
 it would be uninteresting frequently to refer to matters, 
 such as the Exhibition which occurred every year, or the 
 Worship Hour which took place every week ; so I have 
 gathered my husband's thought and action together, and 
 tell each story straight through. The drawback to this pla,n 
 is that when the history covers many years it has compelled 
 events to be referred to before they have been mentioned. 
 For instance, the Residents' work in connection with 
 elementary education — chapter xxiii — is described before 
 the initiation of Toynbee Hall is recorded — chapter xxiv ; 
 and my husband's feeling on poverty problems when living 
 among the rich — chapter xlvi — is related before his 
 removal to Westminster is chronicled — chapter li. 
 
 The plan has also necessitated chapters on the same 
 subject in different parts of the book. The reUef of the 
 degraded among our neighbours in Whitechapel, which is 
 described in the first volume, was an entirely different 
 matter from the charity questions that occupied Canon 
 Barnett's thought thirty years later, and which have to 
 be dealt with towards the end of the book. Of aU the 
 subjects I found those on Relief and the Poor Law the most 
 difficult to compress. The work itself was hard, intricate, 
 and imceasing. Indeed there was rarely a day in our 
 forty years' work together, when the claims of the poor or 
 the hopes for the children did not take time and demand 
 output of thought and feeling. The pens of neither of us 
 were idle, and it is the exceptional number of Canon 
 Barnett's articles that has made the selection so perplexing ; 
 all the more as his methods of expression and terse state- 
 ment of principles are worth reproducing. 
 
 In the earUer part of the book, the chapter on Housing 
 teUs of the destruction of the main part of St. Jude's parish 
 during 1873-83. In the second volume, the chapters on 
 the same subject include larger building schemes, and the 
 story of the Hampstead Garden Suburb. 
 
 The first Pension Committee was fomided the year we 
 went to Whitechapel, to deal with the old in the parish. 
 The second met the needs of those who had paid rates 
 all their lives in the belief that they would receive out-rehef , 
 
THE PLAN OF THE BOOK xi 
 
 and then found the system was abohshed. Later in my 
 husband's life, as experience taught him, he urged that 
 pensions should be given to everyone. Neither in 1873 
 nor 1877 was he ready for the conclusion he finally came 
 to. Thus it has been necessary to mention pensions in 
 two separate chapters, vui and xlvii. 
 
 The two chapters on Entertainment might seem like 
 repetition ; but the St. Jude's parties to teach self-respect 
 to the degraded, and the Toynbee parties to break down 
 class barriers, were quite different, even if both were aspects 
 of the same principle. 
 
 The descriptions of the life, first in the small Orphan Home, 
 and later in the larger training and Convalescent Home, 
 may seem redundant ; but these Homes made much of the 
 backgroimd of our lives, and part of every week we lived 
 in them. 
 
 It is not my hope that all our friends will read the whole 
 of this book. I caimot imagine, for instance, a learned judge, 
 however deep his friendship for Canon Barnett, reading 
 the girl chapters ; nor an erudite professor perusing those 
 about school parties ; neither would even a friendly political 
 economist tolerate the sketchiness of the chapters on relief 
 or local government. But they may all like to see my 
 husband's early efforts to obtain higher education ; and 
 yet perhaps those chapters will be dull reading for the 
 people who care only for housing reform, hbraries, art 
 exhibitions, or holidays for town children. One of the 
 advantages of the group method is the opportunity it gives 
 for selection. The contents, index, and page headings have 
 all been prepared to enable the reader to concentrate on 
 those aspects of thought and action which specially appeal 
 to him, or to skip those in which he finds no interest ; 
 but in every chapter the personality of the Canon is revealed. 
 
 I have made no effort to determine the relative import- 
 ance of my husband's work. If he had done nothing else 
 but what he accomplished in democratising higher teaching, 
 or idealising elementary education, it would have been 
 enough to stamp him as a leading educationalist ; but that 
 branch of progressive endeavour was only one of his labours, 
 and he could have taken a similar position in almost all the 
 causes for which he worked. 
 
 It has not been without design that some of the word- 
 pictures are painted in the pre-Raphaelite style and others by 
 the impressionist method. For example, I have written of 
 
xii THE PLAN OF THE BOOK 
 
 the Toynbee Travellers' Club fully, and described the water 
 famine in detail, not because the first was more important 
 than kindred Toynbee Societies, or the second of special 
 interest ; but because the reader is thus enabled to under- 
 stand the work behind the other Tojnabee Societies, and 
 can reaUse the strength of the union of the Warden, the 
 Residents, and Associates in any of the other pubhc contests 
 in which they were engaged. Behind the impressionist 
 sketches he can supply the precision of the pre-Raphaelite 
 details. 
 
 Many tales are told of our parishioners, and I could tell 
 very many more. Indeed I have had to be stern with 
 myself or I should have written too much of the noble 
 actions, the delicate honour, and the fine consideration 
 of our Whitechapel neighbours. But I have forborne, 
 because the object of this book is to try to tell of the char- 
 acter and life of one man, and so the tales are only put in 
 to paint the backgroimd of his life, or to illustrate some 
 quality in his nature. 
 
 The same principle has been acted on in relation to 
 friends who made the joy and strength of our hves. Many 
 are not mentioned at all, others only cursorily, even if their 
 work deserved a whole book to describe it. The principle 
 of selection has been to speak of those who abode to the 
 end, showing by their steadfastness that their gift of friend- 
 ship has not been transient. 
 
 As we travelled a good deal, a short account of even the 
 annual journeys would have absorbed too many pages, 
 while to have printed all his. letters from abroad, unstereo- 
 typed and attractive as they are, would have monopolised 
 the book. So what I have done is to describe a few journeys 
 at length and leave the others unmentioned. 
 
 The Canon's letters, when not inserted in the chapters, 
 have been collected into batches and pubUshed with no 
 relation except that of date sequence. My husband was a 
 prolific letter-writer, writing rapidly and rarely changing 
 a word. His correspondence, which, besides those to other 
 friends, includes fifty-two letters a year to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Frank Barnett for thirty years, is very large ; and after 
 many weeks spent in selecting which should be inserted, 
 I am left with the sense that, I need not have spent so 
 much labour, for those included are no better than the 
 many hundreds that are perforce excluded. 
 
 The interest in the mottoes consists in each one being 
 
THE PLAN OF THE BOOK xui 
 
 written by Canon Barnett, and all of them contain the 
 germ of the thought set out in the chapter. 
 
 It has taken me four years to write this book, years'broken 
 by sadness and frequent ill-health, occupied by much 
 public work, and dimmed by the canopy of war. It has 
 been written for my husband's friends, not only for those 
 who are learned and have cultivated minds, but also for the 
 uncounted number of humble people who loved and followed 
 him. I hope I have depicted him truthfully, and not made 
 him appear too good. Sometimes when I read biographies I 
 put them down at the end, grateful that I have not known 
 anyone quite so exemplary as the subject of the volume. 
 
 In one of Canon Barnett's letters to me he said : 
 
 " God be with you, God be in all who come near you to 
 make them help you in what you want to do." 
 
 It was a large blessing carrying with it great responsibihty 
 for what I " want to do." For the production of these 
 volumes the prayerful blessing has been obtained, and from 
 the patient labours of Miss Marion Paterson, Mrs. Leon, 
 and Miss Doris Davies real help has come. To them aU 
 my thanks are joyfully rendered, and especially to the Rev. 
 V. A. Boyle, who has devoted much thought to affectionate 
 criticism, and many hours to verifying reports and clarifying 
 memories. Indeed without his restraining encouragement 
 the task would have seemed too big for me, and the fire 
 secured my efforts. His service to the memoirs is but 
 another evidence of the generous devotion he rendered to 
 my husband during the eight years they worked together 
 in Whitechapel : 1884-92. 
 
 To all who care for progress I offer my book, fully con- 
 scious that it is but an inadequate picture of one of God's 
 servants, whose whole being was permeated by the sense 
 of His Presence, and who, convinced that " God had made 
 man in His own image," realised that the main duty of 
 humanity was to raise itself to its birthright. 
 
 Who by to love do apprehend to be." — E. B. BROwTsriNG. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 VOL. I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Birth of Samuel Augustus Bamett — His father, mother, brother, grand- 
 father — Return of rents — Public apple trees — Great-great-grandfather 
 — Action on slave labour — S. A. Bamett's childhood — Colour- 
 blindness — Love of scenery — ^Move into Chfton — Pleasures of the 
 grandparents' house — A scrap-book — Practical jokes — ^Mrs. T. H. 
 Green — Education — The Rev. T. Hulme .... pp. 1-8 
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 Entered Wadham College, Oxford — View from his rooms — Worked toohard — 
 Companions and pleasures — Bare sense of locaUty — ReUgious influence 
 — Schools and degree — Tutored for two years — Visited America — 
 Took Holy Orders — Mrs. F. A. Bamett — ^Mr. F. A. Bamett — Indolence 
 a sin — Canon Rawnsley'a friendship .... pp. 0-17 
 
 CHAPTER in 
 
 Social conditions in 1866 — High death-rate — ^Insanitary housing — Beggars 
 — SuSering children — Inadequate doles — Charitable societies — 
 St. Mary's, Bryanston Square — ^Dean Fremantle — Rev. A. S. W. Young 
 ■ — ^Mr. Polyblank — Mr. Bamett's work in the Church — ^The schools — 
 The club — The first C.O.S. Committee — Mrs. Bosanquet — Miss 
 Octavia Hill — ^Mrs. Hill and her daughters . . pp. 18-33 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Miss Octavia Hill's party- — ^Miss H. O. Rowland — St. Mary's parish 
 organisation — ^Mr. Bamett's letters — Misleading mannerisms — Letters 
 — Shyness of preaching — Importance of " being " — ^Parish visiting — ■ 
 Mrs. Nassau Senior — An evening with the Comtists— -Conflicting 
 duties — Unstinted trustfulness — ^The "future must begood " pp. 34-48 
 
 XV 
 
xvi CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Mr. Bamett's letters — Exercise on the pronoun " I " — Christ fought 
 alone — Betrothal — Respect for plans — Hohday in Switzerland — Deep 
 reverent joy — Roughing it — " Shocking leveUers are the mists " — 
 The Italian Lakes — Problems of helpfulness — The organ and its 
 message ......... pp. 49-60 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Miss Octavia's congratulations — Visits to picture-galleries — Mr. George 
 Maodonald's party — Light-hearted teasing — Letters to Nottingham — 
 Pet dogs — Refusal of an Oxfordshire incumbency — Views on iU- 
 health — OiSer of St. Jude's — Acceptance of the charge — Hopes for 
 the new life ........ pp. 61-70 
 
 CHAPTER Vn 
 
 Wedding day — Visiting west-country cathedrals — Lodgings in Eldon 
 Street — St. Jude's parish — Re-opening of the Church — Parish 
 organisations — The spirit behind the actions — One aim, many methods 
 ■ — Attendance at church — St. Jude's open all day — Small congrega- 
 tions — Possible uses of the building — Sermons . . pp. 71-80 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 St. Jude's Vicarage — A hohday in Switzerland — Visiting the parishioners 
 — Relief of the poor — Angry applicants — Pain of refusing their 
 demands — Injustice of careless relief — Call for service — Offer of 
 friendship — Mr. and Mrs. James Stuart — Mr. and Mrs. Marshall — 
 Pensions — Rev. Brooke Lambert — Proposal to live in Crown Court — 
 Mr. Bamett's illness — ^Rev. Miles Atkinson . . . pp. 81-91 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 A Swiss walking tour — Oratorios in St. Jude's — Generosity of musicians — 
 Musical services and their influence — Indignant remonstrance — 
 Sunday concerts — Birth of the People's Concert Society — 
 Lectures in Church — Failure to attract congregations — Children's 
 religion — Mr. Edward Leonard — Gift of a policeman — Relations 
 with the Force — Opening of the Imperial Institute — Parish machinery 
 — ^Mothers' meetings — ^Miss Harriet Gardiner — Girls' night schools — 
 Five parish agencies ...... pp. 92-103 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Co-operation of friends — Miss Marion Paterson — Miss Pauline Towusend — 
 Miss Kate Potter — ^Mr. A. G. Crowder — ^Rev. S. A. Thompson Yates — 
 Encouragement meetings — The Communicants' Society — Subjects 
 for meditation — ^Thoughts on Holy Communion — Advent Sunday 
 services — Invitations — Advent Sunday sermons — " My wife's tea- 
 table" — ^The depth and dignity of friendship . . pp. 104-115 
 
CONTENTS xvii 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Rough uncontrolled girls — Pages from the "Girl- Book" — Mr. Bamett's 
 opinion of the work — Miss Townsend joined us — The Whitechapel 
 Branch of the M.A.B.Y.S. — Methods of meeting — Evidences of 
 gratitude — Parish organisations for young women — Girls' clubs — ■ 
 Feeble-minded girls — Harrow Cottage — Mrs. Moore "Old Nurse" — 
 First places — Letters from girls — Mr. Bamett's letters about, and to 
 girls — Emigration to Australia .... pp. 116-128 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Insanitary houses — Description of courts and alleys — Miss Octavia 
 Hill's letters — Purchase of a court — A tenement block built — Choice 
 of tenants — Acquisition of bad property — Lady rent-collectors — 
 Necessity of re-building — Press assistance — Delay of municipal action 
 — East London Dwellings Company — Visit of the Princess Alice — 
 Inspection by Sir Richard Cross — Our daring purchase — New 
 dwellings erected — Co-operative housing — Students' residences 
 
 pp. 129-140 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Open spaces — The people throw stones — Baker's Row playground- 
 Anonymous letters — Mr. Bamett's depression — Visits to his 
 family — Friendship with his mother — Holidays in Scotland and 
 Switzerland — Mr. Ernest Hart — Mrs. Alice M. Hart — Mr. B. F. C. 
 Costelloe — Good talk — Descriptive letters . . . pp. 141-151 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Expenditure on parties justified — Parties in the Vicarage — Guests of all 
 classes — Scanty set entertainment — Congregational parties — Religion 
 underhes entertainment — Tenants' parties — Difficulties — Hosts' varied 
 ideas — Article in The Cornhill — Danger of patronage — Value of 
 courtesy — Invitations — Parties of the staff — Parties in the West 
 End — Speeches to the guests — ^Wooden wedding . pp. 152-163 
 
 LETTERS, 1883—1885 pp. 164-176 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Locum tenency in Cornwall — Genesis of the Children's Country Holiday 
 Fund — Rapid growth of the plan — Miss Ruth Verney — Able secretaries 
 — Large body of workers — Miss Finlay — Conferences — Annual Meet- 
 ings — Out-of-sight helpers — Children's individuality — Miss Beatrice 
 Chamberlaiu — Canon Bamett's hopes for C.C.H.F. — Chairmanship — 
 Resignation — Nature Study scheme — Children's letters — Mr. F. Morris 
 
 —Mrs. Harold Spender pp. 177-192 
 
 1—2 
 
xviii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Fighting the " Angel " public-house — St. Augustine's, Stepney — The dust- 
 deatructor — Fighting for free publication — Against Petticoat Lane 
 Sunday Fair — Free marriages — Aldgate slaughter-houses — Unloving 
 theology — The Liberal Association — Corporal punishment — Faith in 
 mankind — The best for the lowest .... pp. 193-200 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Abolition of out-reUef — Difficulty of judging character — Bad effect of 
 out-reUef — The care of the charitable — Intimate knowledge of the 
 poor — After twenty years' experience — Valued friendships with appli- 
 cants — Results of the abolition of out-reUef — Action much mis- 
 understood — Young women in the worlihouse — Official recognition 
 of voluntary efforts — Unwanted babies — " An incorrigible pauper " — 
 Evidences of repentance — " The woman who was a sinner " 
 
 pp. 201-213 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Week-end visits — Dining-out — Dinner parties at home — Monday even- 
 ings — Mr. William Morris's colour scheme for St. Jude's — Pictures 
 in church — Need of beauty — A drin king-fountain — The new organ — 
 The Shoeblacks' Brigade — The panel doctor plan anticipated — 
 Flower shows — Mr. Leonard Monteflore — Rev. Brooke Lambert — 
 Rev. and Mrs. Harry Jones — Bishop ElUcott — Holidays with friends 
 ■ — Decision to winter in Egypt .... pp. 214-225 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Six months' holiday — First impressions of the East — Dancing Dervishes — 
 A Reader in the Mosque — Mr. Herbert Spencer — Hotel du Nil — 
 The Nile — Excursions — The Arab crew — Painting the cook — The 
 Temple of Kamak — Letters to his mother — Mr. Spencer leaves us — 
 
 Returns to us — Ascent of the Cataract Friendly teasing — 
 
 Athletics at Philae — Mr. Spencer in Whitechapel . pp. 226-243 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Quiet days — Efforts to share pleasures with his mother — The Second 
 Cataract — Aboo Simbel — Our seventh wedding anniversary — Pur- 
 chasing native handicraft — The Temple of Abydos — Professor 
 Robertson Smith — Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Hart — The Pyramids — The 
 Sphinx — Visit to All's house — Judge and Mrs. John Scott — The 
 journey home — Co-operative educational travel . pp. 244-256 
 
CONTENTS xix 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Death of Mr. Bamett's mother — Letters to and about her — Illness of Mr. 
 Bamett's father — Letters — Death of Mr. Bamett's father — Letters 
 to friends who mourned — To one near the end — To some in difficulties 
 — To a recluse — To a thief — About a confirmation candidate — Deep 
 personal relations — " Took pains " for others — The morally deranged 
 — The fraudulent — The dying — 1 he religiously perplexed 
 
 pp. 257-271 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 poster on " The Buried Life " — Services badly attended — Reason for 
 the Church's failure — Bishop Walsham How — The Worship Hour — 
 The thought underlying the services — The order of service papers — 
 The prayers — The effect of the Worship Hour — Mr. Bamett's letters 
 on the services — Opinions of others — New HjTnn-book — Worship 
 Hours copied elsewhere — St. Jude-on-the-Hill, Hampstead Garden 
 Suburb pp. 272-283 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 St. Jude's school buildings — Co-education — Schoolrooms decorated with 
 pictures — Co-operation of parents — Parents assessed their own fees — 
 Parents elect themselves as managers — Clay-modelling and carpenter- 
 ing introduced — In consequence the grant withheld — Heading taught 
 without books — Value of educational experiments — Church schools 
 should be pioneers — Establishment of play class — Volunteers teach 
 special subjects — Rambles — Evening classes in the afternoon — 
 Religious teaching — Holy Communion with teachers — Teaching the 
 Bible — Relations with School Board — Local managers — Education 
 Reform League — Continuation schools — Continual school session — 
 School journeys — Interchange of visits with continental children — 
 Monster day treats — Camps for boys — Feeding school children — 
 Technical education ...... pp. 284^301 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 Hard East London problems — Our first visit to Oxford — Friends at Oxford 
 — Mr. Jowett — Letters about meetings — Mr. Arnold Toynbee — 
 Oxford men visited Vv'hitechapel — Mr. Sidney Ball — " Barnett 
 House," Oxford — Letter suggesting Settlements — Awakening of 
 public conscience — Canon Scott Holland — Mr. Alfred Spender — The 
 Archbishop of York — The founding of the Settlement — Decision to 
 accept the Vv'ardenship — Objects of the Settlement — Naming the 
 Settlement — Succession of Residents . . . piJ. 302-313 
 
XX CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 Turchase of premises for the Settlement — Control by the Residents — 
 "Grand" Committee — TaUcs in the Warden's study — Some criti- 
 cisms on him — Growth of various activities — Mr. Charles Booth on 
 one week's worli — Spirit underneath the work — The weight of 
 responsibility — Residents on their work — Toynbee Hall a social 
 laboratory — The "go" of Toynbee Hall — A day's work by the 
 Warden — A week's work by the Warden . . . PP- 314-325 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 Adult classes — Toynbee Residents on classes — Diffictiltyof accommodation 
 — Enthusiasm of teachers and taught — Voluntary teachers — Element- 
 ary evening classes — ^University Extension — Co-ordination needed — 
 Students fixed their fees — Examinations — Democratising the local 
 centre — Technical education — Sunday morning lectures — Numbers 
 decline — Tutorial classes started — Government inspection — Dr. 
 R. D. Roberts and Mr. J. E. Monk — Hope for an East London 
 University ... . ■ • ■ PP- 326-341 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 First pupil - teacher centre — Debates — Athletics — Mr. E. B. Sargant — 
 Scholarships for pupil teachers — Honours gained by the scholars — 
 Girl Pupil Teachers' Association — Twelve centres — Visits to the 
 Universities — Termis tournaments — The Abbey and St. Paul's — 
 Musical parties — The Magazine — Mr. BamettontheL.P.T. Association 
 — The last of its meetings — Mr. Bamett's relations with teachers — ' 
 — Elementary school masters in Oxford — Mr. J. Murray Macdonald — 
 The Teachers' University Association — Toynbee HaU welcomes 
 teachers — Canon Bamett's religious teaching . . pp. 342-355 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 The Toynbee Societies — A list — The Natural History Society — ^The Anti- 
 quarian Society — The Musical Societies — Self-government — Public 
 
 service by the societies — The TojTibee Travellers' Club A week 
 
 in Florence — Members' occupations — Mr. Bamett's letter on the 
 journey — Subsequent tours of the T.T.C. — Dissolution of the club — • 
 Workmen's Travelling Club — Saturday and Sunday public lectures — 
 Mr. Preece first showed Marconi's wireless telegraphy — Smoking 
 debates — Three typical evenings — Speakers and subjects — Students' 
 Union — Lord Milner at its birth — Mrs. Winkworth' s party — TheGuild 
 of Compassion — Some of its labours — The guests at the Hampstead 
 Garden Suburb pp. 356-376 
 
 LETTERS, 1885—1889 pp. 377-392 
 
CHIEF EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF 
 SAMUEL AUGUSTUS BAENETT, M.A., D.C.L. 
 
 BIETH . . . . 
 
 OXFORD — WADHAM COLLEGE 
 WINCHESTEE 
 
 . February 8th, 1844. 
 . 1862-1865. 
 . 1866. 
 
 VISIT TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 1867. 
 CURATE AT ST. MARY's, BRYANSTON SQUARE 1867-1873. 
 
 MARRIAGE ..... 
 
 VICAR OF ST. JUDE'S, WHITECHAPEL 
 
 VISIT TO EGYPT .... 
 
 WARDEN OF TOYNBEE HALL 
 
 TOUR ROUND THE WORLD . 
 
 CANON OF BRISTOL 
 
 CURATE OF ST. JUDE'S, WHITECHAPEL 
 
 CANON OF WESTMINSTBE 
 
 SUB-DEAN OF WESTMINSTER 
 
 DEATH ..... 
 
 January 28th, 1873. 
 
 1873-1894. 
 
 1879-1880. 
 
 1884-1906. 
 
 1890-1891. 
 
 1893-1906. 
 
 1895-1898. 
 
 1906-1913. 
 
 1913. 
 
 Juno 17th, 1913 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS 
 
 VOL. I 
 
 Rev. S. a. Baenett when he became Waeden of 
 
 ToYNBEE Hall Frontispiece 
 
 PAcma PAGE 
 The view feom the window of Samttel A. Baenett's 
 
 EOOMS IN WaDHAM COLLEGE, OXFORD ... 10 
 
 Rev. S. a. and Mrs. Baenett at the time of their 
 
 Maeeiage, 1873 62 
 
 The windows of the homes of five families . . 68 
 
 A couET IN Whitbchapel and some of its childeen 
 
 inhabitants . . . . . . .68 
 
 The Mosaic and Fountain on the west wall of St. 
 
 Jude's Chuech, Commeecial Steeet, E. . .74 
 
 St. Jude's Chuech and Vicaeage, Commeecial St., 
 
 Whitbchapel, 1873 74 
 
 The DEAwrNG-EOOM of St. Jude's Vicaeage . .110 
 
 Haeeow Cottage, Hampstbad 124 
 
 New Couet, Whitbchapel, 1873 .... 132 
 
 A GEOUP OF St. Jude's paeish woekees, 1892. . . 160 
 
 St. Jude's Chuech, Commeecial Steeet, Whitbchapel, 
 
 AFTEE its EBN ovation . . . . .278 
 
xxiv LIST OF ELLUSTBATIONS 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Rev. S. a. and Mes. Baenett 304 
 
 ToYNBEE Hall, Whitechapel 316 
 
 > 
 
 The east end oe the Toynbee Quad . . • 368 
 
 The Toynbee Libeaby ...... 368 
 
CANON BARNETT 
 
 HIS LIFE, WORK, AND FRIENDS 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " Human nature is too big for its surroundings." 
 
 A SMALL household was very happy on February 8th, 1844, 
 for on the morning of that day to ]\ir. and Mrs. Francis 
 Augustus Barnett a httle son had been born. He had been 
 greatly desired and long waited for, and at last had come 
 with an unusually big head and tiny hands and feet. A 
 fidgety child with restless ways, and sweet smiles rapidly 
 given in response to those who served or amused him. 
 Many a time has his mother told me of her first-born child, 
 and her fears that she would not rear him. But she did, 
 thank God. He was christened Samuel Augustus, because 
 for more than a hundred years there had been a Samuel 
 Augustus in the Barnett famdy. He was born at 5, Port- 
 land Square, Bristol, where the first few years of his fife were 
 spent. The house, which stiU stands, is large and square, 
 the windows overlooking the greenery of the central 
 garden. The neighbourhood is now given over to business 
 purposes, but it was then the heart of the residential quarter 
 of the town. 
 
 The father of the baby, Mr. Francis Augustus Barnett, 
 had started a foundry which became specially noted for 
 iron bedsteads, he having been the first person so to use iron. 
 He was m. a large way of business, and when my duty as a 
 member of the Departmental Committee on the Poor Law 
 schools — 1894-5 — took me to workhouses and infirmaries, 
 I often saw "Barnett" on the head of the old-fashioned 
 massive iron bedsteads. Mr. F. A. Barnett's father, Mr. 
 Samuel Augustus Barnett, was a timber merchant whose 
 firm had existed for many generations. Mary, the glad 
 mother of the baby, was the third daughter of Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 1 
 
2 S. A. BAENETT'S GRANDFATHER 
 
 Gilmore. She had been five years married, and was thirty- 
 five years old when my husband was born. 
 
 On July 3rd, 1846, another son was given to Mr. and Mrs. 
 F. A. Barnett, called Francis after his father and Gilmore 
 after his mother. From their earliest days the two brothers 
 were bound together by the strong bonds of trust and 
 affection, and all through their fives, until they were parted 
 by death in March 1908, they wrote to each other every 
 week, Saturday being the day for my husband's letter to 
 Frank, and Monday's post rarely failing to bring his 
 brother's reply. 
 
 Mrs. Francis Barnett's father, Mr. Gilmore, was a ship- 
 owner, his many vessels trading aU over the world, but chiefly 
 to and from Austrafia. He was a rare and beautiful char- 
 acter, and pleasant tales are told of his actions and per- 
 sonafity. The family lived in a comfortable rambling house 
 at the Hot WeUs, Cfifton, a gable of which stOl stands and 
 can be seen from the balcony of Judge EUicott's house in 
 Royal York Crescent. The garden was very large and was 
 the scene of the happiest hours of Canon Barnett's child- 
 hood. There, with the two dear old grandparents and the 
 three maiden aunts who worshipped " Mary's boys," in the 
 paddock and the orchard which ran almost to the edge of 
 the river Avon were endless joys, from that of unstinted 
 fruit-eating, to seeing " grandfather's ships " come up the 
 river and through the basin into dock. The old gentleman 
 was not only a kind large-hearted man, but evidently strong 
 and self-contained, carrying out his own ideas before they 
 were weakened by family discussions. More than once I 
 have heard my husband tell how he, as a lad of nine, was 
 present when his grandfather, entering the house, announced 
 that he had had a most interesting afternoon. Questions 
 as to the nature of its interest brought forth the statement 
 that after making up the accounts of his house-property 
 and ascertaining that he had made more than five per cent., 
 he had determined to return all profits beyond that sum to 
 his tenants, and had that afternoon personally undertaken 
 the duty — an individual anticipation of co-partnership 
 principles. Such a novel business procedure not un- 
 naturaUy awakened discussion, but only one of the aunts, 
 Aunt Anne, offered opposition as to the future adoption of 
 the plan, for the whole family lived in an atmosphere of 
 generosity and welcomed fresh methods of extencfing kind- 
 nesses. Another tale of that period depi^cted the family 
 
ME. GILMORE AND SLAVERY 3 
 
 sitting in the garden at Ambrose House, and the two boys 
 tearing off to the orchard on hearing unusual sounds. 
 
 " What was the matter 1 " asked the grandfather on 
 their return. 
 
 " Some boys after the apples," the lads repUed. 
 
 " Did they get any ? " 
 
 " No ! we drove them away." 
 
 " Then let us go and give them some," said the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 What a lesson in sharing, so simply given ! I think 
 it lay behind my husband's understanding of the attitude 
 of the boy who stole some apples during the fortnight's 
 hoHday provided for him by the Children's Country Holiday 
 Fund, alid who, on being rebuked, said he was sorry he had 
 stolen but could he be told where the pubhc apple-trees were 
 to be found ? 
 
 Of my husband's great-great-grandfather on his 'mother's 
 side it is told that he was engaged in a large and profitable 
 c&TTjmg trade with the West Indies, but it being borne 
 in on his conscience that slavery was wrong, he declined to 
 benefit by the results of slave labour and refused his ships to 
 convey the goods. He knew when he acted that his decision 
 would not stop slavery nor prevent others from shipping 
 the sugar, but his conscience was a matter between him and 
 his God. So he took the step he counted right and saw the 
 business sink and dwindle, instead of growing until it took 
 its place among the millionaire shipping firms of great 
 seaports, as his capital, capabihties, and integrity would have 
 warranted. This decision is aU the more interesting because 
 it was acted on before Wilberforce had aroused the pubhc 
 conscience against slavery, and before Mrs. Harriet Beecher 
 Stowe had — 1850 — in Uncle Tom's Cabin touched the 
 hearts of all Enghsh-speaking people by the sorrows of our 
 coloured relations. 
 
 From their mother came aU the knowledge I have of the 
 childhood of her sons. She told how they never quarrelled, 
 that " Sarm," as she usually called him, with more than a 
 suspicion of the Somerset di-awl, was dehcate, retiring, and 
 tractable, but took both pride and dehght in his brother's 
 love of mischief and greater physical vitality. They went 
 together to a Httle boys' school, and my peaceable husband 
 bore in his manhood's memory his secret joy at Frank's 
 first school fight, and his thriUing interest in all the arrange- 
 
4 COLOUR BLINDNESS 
 
 ments for the surreptitious contest. Another of their 
 childish escapades could never be forgotten, for the depleted 
 Worcester and Crown Derby china sets still bear witness to 
 a certain party afternoon when, told to be quiet, they both 
 withdrew into an unusual and deUghtful " cubby-hole " 
 made by the flap-table on which the tea and coffee cups had 
 been set ready for the guests. To combine gently to push 
 the two flaps back to the wall was a dehghtful game, tiU 
 suddenly all the crockery fell off, and the account that 
 " Father was very angry, but Mother seemed only frightened 
 in case we were hurt," sums up a whole reahn of childish 
 memories, from which the enwrapping and absorbing love 
 of " Mother " was never absent. 
 
 She also told me a story of having arranged that " the 
 boys " should meet her after her drive to go to visit some 
 fastidious relation, and her aimoyance at seeing her first- 
 born in clothes none of which were in order or matched, 
 from his socks to his untidy tie. She was vexed as she 
 could not take him with her, but her rebuke brought out 
 the fact that he was colour- bhnd and could not see the 
 difference of tint or tone over which she was worried. 
 Years of experience taught him more what to expect in 
 colours, and that it was red in all its variations which he 
 could not see. A regiment of scarlet-coated soldiers and 
 the field they were crossing appeared to him all aUke, 
 and his best tribute to my healthy appearance was — 
 
 " You do look well, with lots of blue in your cheeks," or — • 
 
 " You are jolly to-day ; your eyes and your cheeks match," 
 words which conjure up a picture of a ■svife, to Hve cheer- 
 fully with whom must have required on his part much 
 spiritual affection. 
 
 With his inability to see colour, it is strange that from 
 his boyhood he was enthusiastic in his admiration of 
 beautiful scenery. The family's walks and drives, the 
 seaside resorts, and the journeys, were aU settled in accord- 
 ance with what " the boys " wanted. Frank claimed some 
 amusement and his brother demanded scenery, and so, 
 Tenby, IKracombe, Lynton, Shanklin, Jersey, became weU 
 known during the holiday weeks, and the horses took them 
 to all the most beautiful spots round Clifton, Brockley 
 Coombe, Portishead, Almondsbury, the woods above 
 Weston, Dundry, and the hiUs and dales of the Mendips. 
 Frank did not care for riding, for he was too near-sighted 
 to make it safe, but my husband rode well and vigorously. 
 
CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS 5 
 
 and one of the happiest memories of my engagement was 
 the long rides we had together when he took me to see the 
 lovely backgrounds of his bojdsh days. 
 
 When the boys were respectively abont six and eight 
 years old their father built two houses in Whiteladies Road, 
 Chfton, then only a road leading into the country, now a 
 busy tram-hned thoroughfare. These houses were called 
 " Samber " and " Frankau," and into Samber House the 
 family moved, thus enabhng the boys to enjoy, close to their 
 own home, a real garden, the dehghts of which had only 
 hitherto been known by visits to their grandfather's house. 
 
 On March 8th, 1859, Mr. Gilmore died, aged 86, and soon 
 after his old home was broken up. Of it one of the family 
 wrote : 
 
 It seems as though all the childish joys and experiences were focussed 
 in that surrounding, always a background of indulgent aunts, "Uncle 
 John " going to sea, " Uncle George " sending the tirst gold quartz from 
 Austraha, the fruit picking, the birthday treats, the early daguerreotype 
 photographs in which are shown grandparents, aunts, and grandchildren, 
 aU give the impression of a happy and serene existence. — L. G. B. 
 
 When Mr. Barnett was Vicar of St. Jude's, Whitechapel, 
 he referred to these childish days : 
 
 To F. G. B.— January 29th, 1881.— Last night— our wedding 
 day — we had a Christmas tree in the schools, and we all made 
 fools of ourselves for the children's pleasure. It was a grand 
 party and you never saw such a tree ! I thought of our joy 
 round the trees at grandfather's and wondered what and why it 
 was, and if children had the same delight now. 
 
 To F. O. 5.— Sunderland, April 15th, 1883.— Yesterday 
 morning we went over a large ship-building yard. The noise 
 on the hill above called up days long ago when we used to play 
 in the field above grandfather's yard. What one would give 
 for such days of simple pleasure now. 
 
 The influence left by this household on thehves of the 
 two lads was not only happy, but deep and permanent. 
 " It used to be so in my grandfather's house " were words 
 often on my husband's hps in reference to some generous or 
 quixotic suggestion, and the tales of the sea-going ships, 
 their captains, their crews, their warmly welcomed home- 
 coming, and their prayerful outsending were evidences of 
 the union of heart and labour that old Mr. Gilmore infused 
 into his business relations, and that aU through their hves 
 
6 BOYISH ESCAPADES 
 
 affected the attitude that both brothers adopted concerning 
 employer and employed. 
 
 Among my valued possessions is an old scrap-book made 
 by very small fingers and treasured by the mother. For 
 my husband it was a rich storehouse of childish memories 
 revived by quaint old prints of the favourite holiday haunts, 
 wonderful valentines, and crude drawings. Of one bare 
 page Ms mother told how it contained a picture which both 
 the boys greatly admired. Frank frequently demanded 
 that it should be coloured, a demand the elder brother 
 steadily resisted, until one day when Frank was ill with 
 some nursery complaint, the step was taken, the picture 
 torn out, the finer shading and dehcate outlines smothered 
 in greens and reds and blues and pinks, put on in a jumble 
 by self- sacrificing fingers guided by colour-bhnd eyes, and 
 the picture carried in dehght to Frank's bedside. Here the 
 child was father to the man ; he always so enjoyed offering 
 his sacrifices. 
 
 Another tale of their early days shows the characters of 
 both brothers, Frank's infectious dehght in boyish pranks 
 and his brother's sympathetic co-operation. In one of their 
 walks they met a donkey-cart on which sat an old market- 
 woman fast asleep. Quietly to turn the patient beast and 
 to set him on the way towards liis stable instead of tOT»-ards 
 the town, was easily accomphshed amid the hushed laughter 
 of both. But the continuation of the tale is that the 
 joke perpetrated and enjoyed, my husband ran after the 
 cart and once more set the sleeping dame on the road towards 
 the market. All his hfe he appreciated practical jokes and 
 mischief-loving boys, and enjoyed repeating stories such as 
 the above even when they had no such kindly conclusion. 
 Among them there was one when Frank, assisted by his 
 mother, dressed up as an elderly lady and called as a patient 
 on a doctor friend who had lately set up a practice at Chfton, 
 and as he, Frank, was a very good actor and mimic, both 
 the interview and the account of it became rich veins in 
 the family mine of laughter. 
 
 The first person whom my husband was ever conscious 
 of admiring was Mrs. T. H. Green — then Charlotte Symonds 
 — an admiration which continued to the end of his life. She 
 was two or three years older than he was, and the elders 
 had no acquaintance, but both famihes worshipped at the 
 same church. Mr. Barnett has told me how he used to 
 be allowed to stand on the seat so as to look over the high 
 
EDUCATION 7 
 
 pew and see the little girl. Mi-s. Green remembers those 
 childish clays, for she wrote : 
 
 The services were long, and I — the youngest of my family — used to 
 watch those boys with great interest, and it was a pleasant surprise to me 
 years after, in Mr. Jowett's house at BaUiol,to be introduced to Mr. Barnett 
 and to recognise in this honoured person one of the " boys " I remembered 
 seeing in Church. 
 
 That the children were " spoilt," as the word is used, 
 there can be no doubt, if to have every desire lovingly 
 gratified is to spoil human character. The extraordinary 
 prominence given by both parents to nice food and fruit 
 could not have been a wholesome influence, but this was 
 of less importance than their yielding to " the boys' " 
 childish cUshke of going to school. That he had not been 
 wisely educated was my husband's bitterest regret, and 
 made him give much ungrudged time to consider the best 
 means of education for individual characters. He had 
 not even the advantage of being turned loose in a large 
 library, for his father was mentally indolent, and though 
 he had considerable intellectual capacity he would not 
 exert himself either to read or select books for others to 
 read. Thus until he was sixteen my husband hved at 
 home, and studied intermittently under tutors. He passed 
 the Cambridge Junior Local examination in December 
 1858, when he was nearly fifteen years old, and took the 
 Senior papers two years later. He was often out of health, 
 and being never free from doctors and the anxious care of 
 his devoted mother, the ground was ploughed for the 
 sowing of those seeds of nervousness which in later life 
 we had to fight so strenuously or he would have become 
 hypochondriacal . 
 
 It was always his intention to take Holy Orders, and 
 though he had very definite inchnations towards business, 
 and was not indifferent to the claims of his father's iron- 
 works as they grew in size and wealth, he never seriously 
 re-considered his boyish plans. 
 
 At sixteen he went as a weekly boarder to a crammer, 
 and of that experience he had only painful memories. His 
 fellow-students were young men who had either been expelled 
 from school or had failed in one way or another, and from 
 them the sensitive lad learned of evil from which he had 
 hitherto been protected. Gentle as he was, I have heard 
 him speak with disgust of the boys, and indignation at the 
 highly paid tutor for his neglect of them, at the same time 
 
8 AWAKENING BRAEN 
 
 expressing regret that the methods of his own education 
 had left him so capable of suffering by the talk of brutal 
 and bullying boys. It was perhaps tiiis experience at the 
 crammer's which may have caused his shrinking from any 
 talk, however pure or necessary, on sex questions. 
 
 At seventeen he went in preparation for Oxford for a 
 year to the Rev. T. Hulme, in whom he found a strong 
 and guiding mind, and in whose home hfe he joined and 
 formed friendships which bore the wear of many years. Mr. 
 Hulme' s influence on his pupil was intellectually stimulating, 
 and his method the wise one of asking questions on facts 
 and suggesting problems for thought. My husband always 
 gave him the thanks due to one who had shown him how 
 to work his brain, and had taught him that thinking was a 
 pleasure. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 " The mother with her gift of love lives longer than the father with his gift 
 of bread, and her picture is the greatest picture in the world." 
 
 On June 18th, 1862, Samuel Augustus Barnett's name was 
 entered at Wadham College, and in the foUo^^ing September 
 he went into residence. Of his three years at Oxford he 
 always spoke with appreciation, though he regretted that 
 for want of sympathetic guidance he had not used its 
 opportunities to the full. It was only after much per- 
 suasion that Mr. Francis Augustus Barnett allowed his son to 
 go to the University, for he dreaded influences of which he 
 had heard but vaguely, not being on terms of intimacy with 
 the class whose sons unquestioningly go to College. To 
 mitigate the horrors of free- thinking, he selected Wadham, 
 because its Warden, Dr. Simmonds, was an unbending Tory 
 and a rigid evangehcal, virtues which were not calculated 
 to appeal to a young man who, mentally awakened, was 
 questioning aU things. 
 
 For Wadham College my husband felt a great affection, 
 and much appreciated Miss Harrison's gift of a water-colour 
 sketch showing the view from the windows of his attic rooms, 
 which were on the northern side of the quadrangle looking 
 north. The drawing is accurate, and from its minor details 
 the present Warden of Wadham, Mr. Wells, our friend of 
 many years, was able to locate which of the pair of rooms 
 on that staircase had been occupied by my husband. 
 
 The rooms themselves were furnished as nine out of 
 every ten college diggings are furnished, with the remnants 
 of the possessions of past occupants, but the pictures and 
 embeUishments which generally speak of the taste and 
 individuahty of the present tenant were in the case of my 
 husband but few, though those few give illustrations of the 
 dearth of his knowledge of, or interest in art, a side of life 
 which afterwards became deeply important to him. His 
 1—3 9 
 
10 "' ENTERED WADHAM COLLEGE 
 
 pictures were some family portrait groups, two small 
 prints of Landseer's stags, the College arms represented in 
 appalling bead needlework, a photograph of the outside of 
 Wadham College, and another of himself in uniform with 
 other members of the Volunteer Rifle Corps. Of his work 
 within those rooms I have not much written evidence, for 
 my husband did not keep early papers and the few he did 
 preserve throw but Uttle Ught on his mind. Of the life 
 within those rooms I have often heard him say : 
 
 " I made the mistake of using my time at Oxford to grind 
 at books rather than to know men." 
 
 " Culture comes by contact " was a favourite epigram, 
 and probably his labours to bring men together, to found 
 " Students' Unions," and to organise occasions for social 
 intercourse, were the result of the reahsation of what he 
 had lost from the lack of companionship of many minds at 
 a time when his own was seeking the intellectual food 
 that is best assimilated by the stimulus of talk. 
 
 Just before my husband entered Wadham, there had 
 been a set of distinguished undergraduates, Mr. Frederic 
 Harrison, Dr. Bridges, and Mr. Richard Congreve, but the 
 men who were in residence when he joined the college have 
 made no mark on their time. Those with wliom he came 
 into touch vv^ere either genuinely reUgious, holding prayer- 
 meetings in each other's rooms, relating experiences of their 
 inner life, and urging freshmen to accept their tenets and 
 find salvation ; or else they had been reared in that school 
 of thought and were eager to throw it off and escape from 
 its trammels on their conduct ; while a third set were 
 mediocre persons who neither thought, said, nor did any- 
 thing of consequence. My husband had a great power of 
 steadfast friendship, and for many years after our marriage 
 we kept up relations with those uncongenial friends, but 
 Whitechapel was not attractive to them. Face to face with 
 our chosen life, they showed understanding neither of his 
 character nor ideals, and one could only conclude that he 
 had given them friendship out of the goodness of his heart, 
 and that they followed him, partly as men do follow those 
 they do not understand and yet wsh they did, and partly 
 for the loaves and the fishes of his kindness and his mother's 
 exuberant hospitahty. 
 
 When my husband's father had agreed to his entering 
 the University, it had been tacitly understood that his 
 allowance of £200 a year should not be exceeded, and that 
 

 The view tbom the windows of Samuel A. Baenett's rooms in 
 Wadham College, Oxeord. 
 
 r. 10] 
 
WALKS ROUND OXFORD 11 
 
 the period of three yeai's should not be extended. To 
 keep these conditions the docile son, whose health was always 
 weakly, cut down his expenditure to the injury of his 
 digestion, and crammed the work for the Honour schools 
 into three years instead of the usual four. He used to 
 laugh in after-years, when we spent so much time at 
 Oxford, di-awing word-pictures of himself with his head 
 wrapped in wet towels, cups of strong and long-made tea 
 standing by his side, his oak sported, wholly given up to 
 examination work. 
 
 " I was," he said, " what we in those days called a 
 smug ! " 
 
 He rowed a Uttle, being pleased when he was put in the 
 " Torpids," an event which happened only, as he used 
 to hasten to say, when the boat was in a bad way. His 
 style was certainly both graceful and forcible, and one had 
 mth him a feehng of enjoyable safetj^ because of his dex- 
 terous handhng of the boat. He played fives, as later he 
 played tennis, with a certain " ghb astuteness " which made 
 up for strength, but his chief relaxation was walking. Early 
 in the afternoon after a wickedly austere and indigestible 
 lunch, he would start off for a walk, often alone but some- 
 times with a friend, both wearing, if on a Sunday, their 
 tall chimneypot hats, until the turnpike was reached, where 
 they were left to be called for on the return journey. 
 
 Very long and varied were these walks, fuU of minor 
 adventures, the young undergraduate then utihsing a povv^er 
 which he possessed of an innate consciousness of the points 
 of the compass regardless of sun or stars. So unerring was 
 this sixth sense that he unhesitatingly rehed on it, and 
 part of the pleasure of those walks was to go far afield by 
 the roads and then return across country to Oxford. In 
 later years Professor Galton was greatly interested in this 
 mental possession of my husband's. He tested it carefully 
 and said he had only met one other man — Herschell — 
 who had a similar well-defined capacity. He pressed my 
 husband to explain if he arrived at his assurance by deduc- 
 tion from data, but Mr. Barnett was unable to satisfy him, 
 only asserting that he always knew by day or night which 
 was north, south, east, or west, and that he guided his ways 
 by that conviction. 
 
 For daily purposes this faculty was not of much value, 
 but in walking tours we always depended on it, and once 
 when we were on the Nile, it was of use to the wider world. 
 
12 SCHOOLS AND DEGREE 
 
 Mr. Herbert Spencer, who was travelling with us, had gone 
 for a soUtary walk and had struck out into the desert. We 
 were sitting on deck chatting and sketching, when old Ali 
 our dragoman came with frightened face and pointed out 
 that the sun had become invisible because of a grey 
 mist, and that the elderly gentleman had not come back, 
 and that it would soon be dark. No time was lost in calling 
 some of the men, saddling two asses, and following the 
 direction taken by the truant philosopher. After a long 
 search and much shouting, he was found, thoroughly fright- 
 ened and greatly annoyed with himself, but tired enough 
 grudgingly to accept the assistance of the ass. How grateful 
 we were when, guided by this rare sense of location, my 
 husband brought them all safely back to the dahabeeh out 
 of the foggy desert and the danger of hyenas. 
 
 Of the rehgious hfe of Mr. Barnett while he was at the 
 University I have but httle information, but I know that 
 he greatly dishked the undergraduates' prayer-meetings, 
 feeUng that it was neither healthy nor modest to examine 
 other people's souls nor to expose his own. That his faith 
 was ahve and practical there is a proof in what one of the 
 men who Uved on his staircase told me of my husband's 
 tenderness to him when he was sore stricken by the suicide 
 of his brother, and of the consolation he gave by the assur- 
 ance of his behef in the immortahty and undying progress 
 of the soul. 
 
 Three years were soon over and in 1865 Samuel Augustus 
 Barnett took his B.A. Degree, having obtained Second-class 
 Honours in law and history, a School since abohshed. If 
 ever he spoke of his Honours, it was with regretful contempt, 
 saying he could have done so much better, had his tutors 
 understood how to use his powers. He also thought that 
 his attempt to put so much work into so short a time had 
 prevented him from feehng the indirect and vitalising 
 influences of the University, and that for want of wise 
 guidance he had probably missed Oxford's greatest gift. 
 Be that as it may, he was no doubt helped by his place in 
 the Schools to obtain pupils, and for the next year he lived 
 on at Oxford and supported himself, greatly enjoying the 
 time for wider reading. Indeed, the experience of that 
 year made him a persistent advocate of the provision of 
 post-graduate courses, when individuahty had had time to 
 assert itself and to recognise what it wanted to study. 
 
 The following year was spent in Winchester as a master 
 
AMERICA— ORDINATION 13 
 
 at the College, where he was indeUbly impressed with the 
 advantages and disadvantages of the Pubhc-school system, 
 and with the strength of opinion in the boyish world, 
 which strangled some characters and sustained others. 
 
 The object of giving two years to teacliing was to save 
 enough money to visit America, a hope that was reaUsed 
 in 1867. He roughly mapped out his journey so as to 
 include New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, 
 Baltimore, Richmond, Charleston, Georgia, and New 
 Orleans, and obtained some introductions, mainly to business 
 people. The civil war was but recently over, and he came 
 across many instances of the intense feehng which had been 
 aroused by it. His own sympathies were with the north, 
 but in spite of his inherited principles against slavery, he 
 had always an apologetic appreciation of the dignified 
 generous- hearted free-living ex-slave-owners of the Southern 
 States. He WTote constantly to his mother — who unfor- 
 tunately did not keep his letters — and spoke in later years 
 ■fldth admiration of the silence with which she bore her 
 anxiety when parting from him for so long and distant a 
 journey, understanding, with the quickened sympathy of 
 his manhood, what it must have meant to her who had 
 hitherto kept him under her enshrouding wings. The net 
 resiilt of his American experiences is summarised by Mr. W. 
 Francis Aitkon, who in his book on Canon BarncH quotes 
 him as saying — 
 
 " Born and nurtured in an atmosphere of Toryism, what 
 I saw and heard there knocked all the Toryism out of me." 
 
 He returned to Bristol in 1867, and on December 22nd 
 Samuel Augustus Barnett was ordained Deacon and entered 
 on his work as Curate of St. Mary's, Bryanston Square, then 
 under the charge of the Rev. W. H. Fremantle. The 
 following year he took Priest's Orders at a service to which 
 his mother's presence added a quiet joy. 
 
 This seems a fitting time to describe my husband's father 
 and mother, though as what is written includes my obser- 
 vation of them, it is not hmited to this period of their lives. 
 
 From her portraits, Mrs. Barnett could not have altered 
 much, for her early ones show the lady I was introduced to 
 when she was sixty years old, a short somewhat thickly 
 made woman, with small twinkhng eyes, a long sallow 
 face, a loosely set jaw, black hair, and a sweet firm mouth. 
 She was undoubtedly plain in feature and form, untidy in 
 
14 HIS MOTHER 
 
 her dress, and homely in her ways, but all this one instantly 
 forgot when she smiled. She seemed to radiate love and 
 kindliness, generosity and hopefulness. She was shrewd 
 in judgment and conjecture, rather positive in opinion, and 
 persistent in pursuit of her plans, which were generally 
 plans for helpfuhiess to be silently rendered to some seedy 
 individual. She held with deUghtful inconsequence all 
 sorts of inconsistent rehgious and social views, but they all 
 had the same source, the deep well of her charity. 
 
 " They may be wrong but they mean right," was her 
 summing-up of many questions touching the family, the 
 sociaJ circle, or the political world. She read the news- 
 papers and followed the affairs of the day with keen interest, 
 usually siding with the weak. She talked ineffectively and 
 uninterestingly, but often made short suggestive remarks, 
 and was a patient and sympathetic Ustener. She had a 
 keen sense of a joke, but her stories were rarely successful 
 because she laughed so much in the telling. She had no 
 ambitions for anyone, least of aU for herseK, but she enjoyed 
 pouring out lavish hospitahty on anyone who appreciated 
 her boys. She was kind to her servants, Vv^ho never left her 
 except to be married, and who received with other gifts 
 one silver spoon for each year of service. She was a devoted 
 daughter and a patient wife, but her heart's love was 
 showered on her boys, and her lirst-born was the centre 
 of her existence. For him she thought and planned and 
 feared and prayed, her faith in him never faihng. 
 
 Of my husband's father it is difficult to WTite. He was 
 tall, well-made, and more than usually good-looking, with 
 large and beautifully shaped eyes and regular features. He 
 was extremely pleasant to look at, but was not easy to hve 
 ^vith.. His assumption of his right to the best of everj^thing, 
 be it food, the easiest seat in the carriage, or the only 
 umbrella, and of its being the first, if not the sole duty of 
 his wife, to serve him, was very trying to -witness, and I 
 have often seeir my young husband turn away with a gesture 
 of impatient self-control. 
 
 " Why do you allow him to be so selfish ? " I indignantly 
 said to Mrs. Barnett one daj' when he had kept her aird 
 my husband, who was unwell, sitting in the carriage waiting 
 in the noisiest city thoroughfare until he chose to come. 
 
 " Ah ! my dear," she said, " it does not do to vex him, 
 for it's what comes after," and I slowly learnt that what 
 " came after " were long days of unbroken sulkiness, which 
 
HIS FATHER 15 
 
 hung like a pall over the household, stifling the very hfe 
 out of the finer natures of his wife and sons. On the other 
 hand, he had valuable virtues. He was a pure-minded and 
 clean-hving man, punctihous in all financial matters, just 
 to his Avork-people, but so cautious that he trusted no one 
 and thus obtained the bad service given by the untrusted. 
 He was also too perversely honourable to make improve- 
 ments. For instance, he had always made the legs of 
 the iron bedsteads soUd. When other manufacturers in- 
 vented hollow legs Mr. Barnett refused to adopt them, 
 thinking that it was not accorchng to the honourable con- 
 duct of his business that legs should look sohd and be hollow. 
 He Avas mentally clever enough to create a considerable 
 business, but not morally clever enough to retain it, and 
 during the last two decades of his hfe it slowly dwindled till 
 it died away. He was supposed to be a staunch Conserva- 
 tive, but his Conservatism consisted of gibes at the Liberals, 
 whom he usually termed " those Radical fellows." He had 
 no conception that his son held his pohtical views with 
 any earnestness, or had left the party faith of his family 
 as a duty and with regret, and generally treated his opinions 
 as a subject for jokes. 
 
 My husband always held indolence to be a moral sin of 
 deep significance, and I have heard him both in private and 
 in public speech use strong Avords on idleness, especially 
 mental sloth : " Indolence is the devil," was an oft-repeated 
 sentence of his. 
 
 Probably his father's character helped him to this view, 
 for Mr. F. A. Barnett was a transfigured person when 
 he was interested enough to bestir himseK. During journeys 
 this was particularly noticeable, and my husband's tales 
 of what " Father " cUd and said when he took him as a 
 boy of twelve to Ireland and they jaunted in cars from 
 place to place were always pleasant and surprising. A 
 journey to Paris when he was about seventeen with 
 both parents, his brother, and two of his aunts, also 
 provided occasions for remembrances of his father as an 
 interested and pleasant companion ; and I recall long drives 
 to Weston or Cheddar when the interest of the inns, the 
 weather, the staying-power of the horses, or the obtaining of 
 the best possible food, kept his inteUigence awake and 
 amiable. It was the same thing with books. If he came 
 across a book which took his fancy he would master it with 
 self-forgetting thoroughness. Indeed, we have often used 
 
16 HIS FATHER 
 
 his knowledge of Dickens to try to rouse him from his 
 dour gloom, and never in the tiniest incident was he found 
 in error. He did not care for the pathetic part of the great 
 noveUst's works, but every page of The Pickwick Papers 
 and each joke of even the most subordinate character was 
 known, enjoyed, and remembered. 
 
 One could not wish his wife to have been less unselfish 
 or less eager in her gifts of affectionate service, but had 
 she made more demands on what was best in his nature, 
 or not permitted unkindness to go unrebuked, different 
 results might have been produced. Who can teU. ? But 
 I think this belief was at the bottom of a quaint remark 
 my husband made to many brides, " It is a wife's first duty 
 to make her husband uncomfortable," leaving it where it 
 was if no inquiry were made, but explaining to those who 
 asked his meaning that the best wife was she who cared 
 for the higher hfe of the dear one, which would probably 
 result in making him uncomfortable. It would have been 
 much better for old Mr. Barnett if people had had the 
 courage to stand up to him, but no one did, except Canon 
 Rawnsley, then an energetic pubhc- spirited dancing hard- 
 working laughter-loving curate at St. Barnabas', Bristol. 
 He was devoted to Mrs. Barnett, who made him welcome 
 at aU hours of the day and night with a latchkey homeliness. 
 One day at dessert Mr. Kawnsley had prepared an orange 
 in an ingenious cuplike shape, and passed it round the 
 table for distribution and admiration. 
 
 " Ugh," grunted old Mr. Barnett, when it came to him, 
 but too indolent to reach out his hand to pass it. 
 
 " Won't you have some, sir ? " asked Mr. Rawnsley. 
 
 " Ugh," was the only reply. 
 
 " Well, sir ! put your bad temper in it and then pass it on," 
 said Mr. Rawnsley, which so surprised his host that he obeyed! 
 I dehghted in the audacious guest and his brightly given 
 Christian message, and I have dehghted in him ever since. 
 
 Of Mr. Barnett' s affection for his children I have no 
 doubt, but he was content to allow it to be taken for granted, 
 giving evidence of it only Avhen iUness threatened, or when 
 their success aroused paternal pride. When I remember 
 the old man's forbidding ways, and the frequent occasion 
 of annoyance which he caused his family, I am moved by 
 a discovery of his love for my husband. In a copy-book 
 now lying before me, in his clear business hand is ^vlitten 
 out his son's first sermon, the date, February 9th, 1867, 
 
FIRST SERMON 17 
 
 and the place, St. Mary's, Bryanston Square, where it was 
 preached. How his father got it, my husband never knew. 
 We found it among his papers after his death, and from 
 various signs conckided it must have been written out from 
 memory. In any case it e^dnced an affection and a capacity 
 for devotion which, had it been known or shown, would have 
 made the wife, the boys, and the father all happier and 
 stronger to endure and progress. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 " At every great crisis of history the most notable circumstance is the rise 
 oj the human spirit — the coming of Christ." 
 
 Without a clear recognition of the social conditions of 
 1866, Mr. Barnett's work or his ideals for those to whose 
 service he then dedicated his Ufa cannot be understood. 
 
 In 1851-60 the death-rate in England and Wales was 
 :20-2 per 1,000 ; forty years later in 1891-1900 it was reduced 
 to 18-2 ; figures which gain in significance when compared 
 with 13-7 in 1914 and 6-68 in the Hampstead Garden Suburb. 
 Among infants the mortahty had reached the enormous 
 proportion of 154 per 1,000,^ and all observers agreed that 
 the defective housing of the wage-earning class was the main 
 cause. The Archdeacon of Coventry wrote : 
 
 1868. — The Sanitary Acts are only permissive and partial in their ad- 
 ministration ; owners of wretched house-property defy interference and 
 the o,uthorities are supine. . . Englishmen and Cliristian men tolerate 
 schemes of festering corruption for both body and soul, where everj'thing 
 tends to crush seK-respect, engender and facilitate vice, and to make a 
 night's repose hideous and unholy ; where decency is outraged, shame 
 unknown, and chastity impossible.^ 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury, giving evidence before the Housing 
 Commission of 1884, speaking of London in the sixties, 
 said in reference to a district in Bermondsey : 
 
 1884. — It was a large swamp where a number of people lived, as they do 
 in Holland, in houses built upon piles. . . So bad was the supply of water 
 there that I have positively seen the women drop their buckets into the 
 water over which they were living, and in which was deposited all the filth 
 of the place, that being the only T\ater they had for every purpose of 
 washing and drinking.^ 
 
 1 111 1914 the figure was 108 per 1,000, and in the Hampstead Garden 
 Suburb the corresponding figure was 31 per 1,000. 
 
 ' Social Work in London, by Helen Bosanquet, LL.D, 
 
 18 
 
SOCIAL CONDITIONS IN 1866 19 
 
 March 2Srd, 1870. — Prom these mockeries of homes, wrote the 
 " Parochial Critic," tens of thousands of mendicants march forth every 
 morning — not to work or to seek work — but to beg ; not to contribute, by 
 their industry, but to prey upon those who do. 
 
 Nor were these beggars only the weak and incapable. 
 The practice of transporting criminals had ceased some 
 twenty years before the decade which is under our con- 
 sideration, and Dr. Hawkesley stated the consequences : 
 
 The number of depredators, offenders, and suspected persons at large in 
 the Metropolis, including only those known to the police during the year 
 18G7, amounted to 8,964, while in 1868 they have mcreased to 10,343. In 
 consequence of the discontinuance of transportation, 2,000 convicts are 
 now annually turned loose on the community from our convict establish- 
 ments, in addition to 100,000 criminals of all sorts from our gaols. No 
 wonder that the police have found it necessary to circulate printed warnings 
 to householders against the attempts of burglars.^ 
 
 In a pamphlet entitled The Curse of Beggars Dr. Guy said : 
 
 At every crossing an impudent urchin trails a dirty broom before us, 
 and would fain lay upon us a tax. . . At short intervals we encounter 
 the whining interruptions of the sturdy Irishman who is always starving, 
 or of that odious girl who is for ever taking God's name in vain. . . 
 Before our walk is halt finished we have run the gauntlet of ever}' form of 
 pretended distress, and borne, as best we may, the fretting interruptions 
 of every variety of ragged and dirty falsehood. ^ 
 
 This is a shocking picture and its reverse side is even 
 more painful, for to quote Mrs. Bosanquet : 
 
 It cannot be doubted that beliind this mass of chronic pauperism, 
 beggary and crime, there was an appalling amount of genuine misfortune 
 and suffering. Not only the "widows and orphans needed help, but men 
 and women broken down by sickness or unemploj'ment found their real 
 needs overlooked in the clamour of mendicancy. . . The very existence 
 of the degraded class was a standing insult and injury to the genuine 
 worker, who shared its reputation for idleness and inefficiency, and was 
 deprived by it of the succour which should have come to him in times of 
 misfortune. 
 
 On the effect of this confusion of ideas and acts on the 
 hves of the normal unskilled worker Miss Octavia Hill 
 wrote : 
 
 February nth, 18G7. — It is the greediness of the recipient that is the 
 anrful result at present ; and the helpless indolence of expectant selfish- 
 ness. . . Let us give better things ; sympathy, friendship, intercourse, 
 and then we can give with comparative impunity. For the hearts of 
 people always feel the spiritual gift to be the greater if it be genuine at all. 
 
 Social Work in Londo,-., by Helen Bosanquet, LL.D, 
 
20 SUFFERING CHILDREN 
 
 Where a material gift comes as a witness of real love, it is the love that is 
 the all-absorbing thought, not the gift, be it ever so much needed. . . 
 
 I cry out to myself in the courts every day, " What a frightful confusion 
 of chances as to how or whether there is to be food or not ! " A man accepts 
 underpaid work ; a little is scraped up by one child, a little begged by 
 another ; a gigantic machinery of complicated charities relieves a man 
 of half his responsibilities, not once and for all clearly and definitely, 
 but help here and there. There is no certainty, no quiet, no order in his 
 way of subsisting. And he has an innate sense that his most natural 
 wants ought to be supplied if he works ; so he takes our gifts thanklessly ; 
 and then we blame him or despise him for his alternate servility and 
 ingratitude. 
 
 And how, reared amid the smells of insanitary homes, 
 surrounded by the roughs, the beggars, the workless, and 
 the weakly, did the children fare in those days of fifty years 
 ago ? Badly, very badly, and it was the sufi^ering of the 
 children which provoked the deepest indignation among 
 reformers and ultimately led to some remedies. " A little 
 child shall lead them " became true. Dr. Stallard said : 
 
 1868. — The masters and mistresses of ragged schools declare that the 
 children continually cry with hunger, and frequently fall exhausted from 
 their seats for want of food, and that it is impossible to teach them in such 
 a state. 
 
 The out-rehef given by the Guardians was cruellj' inade- 
 quate — as it stiU is — and though it is not possible at this 
 distance of time to compute what numbers of metropoUtan 
 children were " destitute of proper guardianship and 
 exposed for the most part to the training of beggars and 
 thieves," yet the Poor Law statistics show that " on 
 January 1st, 1868, no less than 68,435 children under sixteen 
 were on the books, and in the course of the half-year the 
 number would be nearly treble.^ 
 
 To remedy such evils, a few people were giving thought 
 and time, and many people were giving doles, doles which 
 insulted the receiver as well as condemned the giver, whose 
 charity cost him nothing, not even the self-control of a 
 passing emotion. Indeed so serious had become the action 
 of " the frivolous pubUo . . . which supported the great 
 army of beggars and made laziness and imposture more 
 profitable than work," thereby creating pauperism, that in 
 1870 a Special Committee of the Social Science Association 
 issued a report which urged the Government to take eog- 
 
 1 At that time the London School Board had not been created, and 
 such education as existed was given by religious denominations, and 
 by the philanthropic organisations which provided the schools so unfor- 
 tunately called " Ragged," 
 
SOCIETIES FOR RELIEF 21 
 
 nisance of all relief to the poor. Dr. Guy went a step 
 further and ^vrote : 
 
 What educationalists have to do is to instruct (if they can be taught) 
 the large dole-giving community, and to get them punished, as did our 
 ancestors some centuries ago ; but, above all, to purge the nation ot the 
 hj^ocrisy which sends the mendicant to prison, while for the great central 
 vice of dole-giving it has only mild reproofs, or even gentle commendation.^ 
 
 Added to the indiscriminate giving of individuals was 
 the injurious and corrupting rehef provided by the Poor 
 Law authorities, and charitable societies, offered with httle 
 consideration for the effect on the character, or the future 
 of the recipient. " Thieves' suppers " and " Prostitutes' 
 meetings " were then considered as desirable and useful, 
 and Sir Charles Trevelyan's wise words were resented as 
 showing want of sympathy on his part. He wrote : 
 
 We are doing aU we can to form the thieves and prostitutes into a class. 
 Without such help they could not consist as a class, but must be brought 
 face to face with the Poor Law and the police, and then there would be 
 an end of them ^ — 
 
 an optimistic opinion which has, alas ! not yet been justified. 
 In a spirit of helpfulness many societies and agencies were 
 estabhshed, among the most prominent being " The Society 
 for the Rehef of Distress," founded in 1860 ; " The Metro- 
 pohtan Visiting and Rehef Association," 1843; "The 
 Strangers' Friend Society," 1785; "The Society for the 
 Suppression of Mendicity," 1818 ; " The Parochial Mission 
 Women Fund," 1860 ; " The Society for Improving the Con- 
 dition of the Labouring Classes," 1844. Added to these 
 large organisations, there arose many others connected 
 with churches, chapels, and preaching centres, which in 
 their turn distributed coal and bread tickets, and estab- 
 lished soup kitchens, boot funds, shelters, and other channels 
 of irregular rehef. All these societies pursued their respec- 
 tive labours, sometimes obtained funds by exaggerated 
 statements, and often relieved the same cases in ignorance 
 of each other's action. The whole system, if it could be 
 called a " system," was wasteful and ineffective, but its worst 
 result was its evil influence on the poor, who were taught 
 to beg, to prevaricate and to He about their circumstances, 
 to avoid work as less profitable than cadging, and to count 
 
 ' Social Worlc in London, by Helen Bosanquet, LL.D. 
 
22 CURACY AT ST. MARY'S, BRYANSTON SQUARE 
 
 the picking of the pockets of riclier people or societies as 
 fair game, provided it was done, not by sMm fingers, but by 
 words and whines which were not punishable offences. 
 
 Incomplete as is this description of the social conditions 
 of the time, it may yet indicate some of the problems which 
 the new Curate had to face in St. Mary's, Bryanston 
 Square, a parish whose residents were mainly the rich 
 and the well-to-do, though there were quarters of it in- 
 habited by casual labourers and the feckless, as well as streets 
 occupied by the self-respecting industrial classes. 
 
 Ml'. Barnett's hfe for the next five years is best told in 
 the v/ords of three of his contemporaries who have remained 
 our faithful friends even until now. His Rector, the Rev. 
 the Hon. W. H. Fremantle — later the Dean of Ripon — 
 the Rev. A. S. W. Young, his colleague at St. Mary's — 
 now the Vicar of Kingston — and Mr. W. Poly blank, then 
 the second master of St. Mary's schools — laow enjoying his 
 well- deserved repose in Devonshire. Their reminiscences 
 of his work group themselves under four heads : 
 (1) The Church, (2) The Schools, {'.i) The Rehef Committee, 
 (4) The Club. 
 
 The Rector wrote : 
 
 Barnett came to me by the advice of a liberally minded clergyman in his 
 native Bristol . . . and asked to have a sort of apprenticeship in my 
 parish in preparation for ordination. I gladly offered to let him come 
 as a lay helper and promised to give him help in his studies. . . He 
 prepared the books which were the subjects for examination for ordination 
 very carefuUy and with equal reverence and criticism. He was very 
 diligent and dutiful in all ways, but had not at that time developed the 
 special and original gifts which afterwards produced such wide-reaching 
 fruits. He was always Uberal in thought and act, his heart was with the 
 poor, and he sought their good, but his larger activities which made him 
 famous were at most in an inchoate condition. . . He used to say in 
 a humorous manner that I had made him a Radical by taking him into the 
 company of some advanced Liberals, but I do not laiow precisely to what 
 he alluded. We rarely, if at all, spoke of the politics of the day, but I was 
 very early convinced that the Church of England meant the whole nation 
 uniting in aU its parts as a Christian body, and that the attempts to 
 narrow it must be combated. If this is Radicalism, then both he and 
 I were Radicals to the core. 
 
 Mr. Young wrote : 
 
 My acquaintance with your husband began in October 1868. . . We 
 came together at once. I soon found that he had more to give to me than 
 I to him ; but I may say I believe, without presumption, that to find in 
 .me, as he did, an interested and sympathetic listener to the ideas which 
 
REV. A. S. W. YOUNG 23 
 
 "were stirring and seetliing in his brain, was a real help to him. We were 
 differently moulded ; his thoughts ran more upon Sociology, mine uj^on 
 Theology ; but we were both alive to the connection and later- dependence 
 of the two. I do not think either of us had read much at that time. 
 liohertsoii' s Sermons was the first book mentioned between us. They had 
 taken great hold on me, and I was glad to find that he thought there were 
 none like them. He was also greatly attracted by Carlyle. . . 
 
 One frequently met men in Barnett's rooms. This dropping in upon 
 him, without notice and often for a long talk, was a practice that I have 
 thought since he must often have felt an inconvenient one. But he never 
 gave any sign of it : one seemed always welcome, no matter what he was 
 about. I am afraid I was most unscrupulous in the use I made of the 
 privilege. He knew my knock and almost always opened the door 
 himself. 
 
 Another only less frequent visitor was the Vicar of St. Luke's, Nutford 
 Place, the Rev. T. W. Fowle. He was some years older than either of us, 
 but not too old to assort well ; a very able thinker and expresser of his 
 thoughts ; of sparkhng wit and eager temperament ; as high-spirited 
 as a boy, but withal, rather easily cast down. He threw himself eagerly 
 upon our friendship, and made us feel that he dehghted in it, as we did 
 in his. He was full of the thoughts of the day, Darwin and evolution, 
 Huxley, Herbert Spencer. He proposed to read Philosophy together, 
 and we took up Descartes, and then Locke, meeting in 34, Upper Montague 
 Street, your husband's rooms, and constantly sitting into the small hours 
 a.m. A most happy trio we were, our types of mind very ditlerent, but 
 on the broad common basis of hberal thought and earnest inquiry into the 
 truth of things we formed a really good combination. nodes caenaeque 
 Deum. Those symposia will always be among my most cherished memories. 
 Alas ! that they remain now with me alone. 
 
 Nor should I forget the Sunday evening suppers with our Rector, and the 
 opportunities they gave for talking over the parochial machinery and the 
 broaching of new ideas ; when, whether reviewing what had been or sug- 
 gesting what would be done, Bamett was sure to have something interesting 
 to say. But neither then nor at any other time did he ever obtrude 
 himself, or say anythmg but with the modesty that became his position 
 as junior curate. He spoke always as one who would rather have his 
 thoughts drawn from him than volunteered. 
 
 Mr. Fremantle liked nothing better than getting people together to talk, 
 and he held a meeting for Bible study at his house once a month for the 
 clergy of all the chstrict of which St. Jlary's was the Mother Church — 
 Francis, HoUand of Quebec Chapel ; Fowle of St. Luke's; Geary of St. 
 Thomas', Portman Square, with their curates ; and I may say for myself 
 and for my colleague I think, that we owed much of the clearance of our 
 ideas to those meetings. 
 
 One morning our Rector asked us to meet the Master of BaUiol. To an 
 Oxford man, as your husband was, he would have been already a familiar 
 figure, but I believe this was his first real introduction to him. Of the 
 fruitful intercourse that sprang up afterwards between them, I need say 
 nothing at all to you, but as I am dealing with the beginnings of the great 
 things in his life, it would be an omission not to mention that httle breakfast 
 party. 
 
 Something of what my husband felt for Mr. Young will 
 
24 DEAN FREMANTLE 
 
 be gathered from the following words written fifteen years 
 after they had ceased to be fellow-curates : 
 
 December 22nd, 1888. — We go down to Kingston to-night, 
 and to-morrow I preach for Young. It will be pleasant to see 
 him. He is one of the best of men and his friendship means 
 rest. 
 
 Mr. Polyblank was an assistant master in the church 
 schools, and the gUmpses he gives of the personality of 
 the young Curate add touches to the character we are 
 considering. He wrote : 
 
 It was the charm and warmth with which he received and introduced me 
 at St. Mary's Boys' School that inspired me . . . and it was out of respect 
 and love for him that my first class of fifty troublesome London boys 
 received me (a very young raw countryman) with submission and obedience. 
 . . . He used to say, "The best thing to give is your heart." He keenly 
 felt the unkindness of anyone who deceived or failed him, and that he 
 met many of these human failures goes without saying, yet his largeness 
 of heart would not allow him to drop or condemn any as utterly bad. 
 One of two such human failures that 1 knew at St. Slary's, remarked on Mr. 
 Bamett, that he was " humanity personified." 
 
 The impressions of these friends who saw my husband's 
 first service in the Church are to me very interesting, for 
 people rarely reahse his love for, and faith in, the work of 
 the Church. His efforts for social reform in Whitechapel 
 were brought more prominently before the pubhc than his 
 rehgious work, but rehgion held the main place in his 
 heart's core, though his acceptance of Miss Octavia Hill's 
 dictum of " the nearer, the dearer, the severer " made him 
 very conscious, and often impatient, of the faults of organised 
 rehgion and ever anxious to reform the Church. 
 
 Dean Fremantle wrote : 
 
 Bamett took much pains in his Church work, though he was not a great 
 preacher. . . I remember in a conversation which we had about preach- 
 ing, an expression of his that the ordmary religious teaching was too much 
 " a religion of death," and that what was needed was " a religion of life." 
 
 Mr. Young's memories were more personal : 
 
 I wiU speak now of your husband as I remember him in the Church. 
 As the curates, the burden of preaching that was laid upon us was a very 
 light one, one sermon a fortnight being our regular portion. Thus we had 
 ample time to prepare, and we both took conscientious pains. He expressed 
 himself in the pulpit vigorously, in emphatic, short sentences, never with- 
 out real thought of his own. If there were some who found him difficult 
 to foUow, it was not from any obscurity in the language he used, for that 
 was most simple, but from the thought not corresponding to what they had 
 
SERMONS 25 
 
 in their minds, and from, I should say, a little want of the art, on his part, 
 of throwing himself into their thoughts and translating them into his. 
 The sermons were always fully written out. He could not at that time 
 speak fluently. He gained help ui this, I think, from the institution by our 
 Rector of a short daily service at S a.m. As a formally composed address 
 would have been inappropriate to the occasion, it was understood that 
 we should confine ourselves to simple comments upon one of the Lessons 
 for the day. Thus we got some practice in extemporaneous expression, 
 at the expense only of the faithful few who were minded to attend at that 
 early hour. 
 
 My own recollections bear out Mr. Yomig's words, for I 
 was among those who found his sermons out of touch with 
 life and " difficult to follow," and I remember — long before 
 our engagement — making a vigorous protest to him against 
 wasting liis opportunities of speaking to the people whose 
 Kves he knew so well, and of whose need for spiritual food 
 he was aware. The patient meekness with which he took 
 my criticism is still in my memory, as well as his explanation 
 that his sermons represented the line of thought he was then 
 considering, which brought the obvious retort that it would 
 be more useful to the congregation for their minister to talk 
 about the hne of thought which they were then considering, 
 and to bring it to the test of Christ's standard. It was 
 strange that, desirous as he was of uniting men through 
 the Church, his sermons should be so often academic and 
 impersonal, for even in his curate days he held that the 
 Church sho\ild be the centre of life, that all men should be 
 counted as belonging to it, and that its teaching should 
 permeate every department of action. 
 
 In his recollections Dean Fremantle said : 
 
 I know that Bamett agreed with me in considering each person in the 
 parish as a member of the Church of England and as a feUow-worker in 
 the carrying out of the high ideal for which the Church exists. Mrs. 
 Barnett's excellent little book Worship and Work shows this in every page. 
 
 Of Mr. Barnett's work in the schools Mr. Young wrote : 
 
 He made a deep impression by his vi'ork in the school. The boys were 
 his province ; the girls mine. He might well have been content with giving 
 Scripture lessons, but he must needs take up some other subject with the 
 boys as well ; and his history class became a noted feature. The teachers 
 were all devoted to him and were always delighted to see him come in. 
 His presence was an inspiration, and thrilled all the school with life and 
 zeal. At his instance we held an amateur inspection of our own once a 
 year, with the hearty goodwill of the teachers, who might have resented 
 it, an examination to test the children's powers of thought and to bring out 
 what was in their minds. 
 
 1—4 
 
26 MR. W. POLYBLANK 
 
 The preparation of the boys for Confirmation fell to his share ; and it 
 was not Umited to teaching them. It was a matter of close personal inter- 
 course, and I often found one or two in his rooms. With raany of them he 
 was the object of an abiding attachment, and I remember hearing from 
 them that they had looked him up in Whitechapel, and what a pleasure it 
 had been to both.^ 
 
 To this account the Dean added his testimony : 
 
 Bamett took a great interest in the schools, and being a History Scholar 
 at Oxford, interested the older boys in that subject. I was present at a 
 class of his on the History of England in the time of James II. and the 
 Revolution, and remarked how much more interesting and more religious 
 it was than a class on Old Testament History at which I had assisted. 
 
 This is interesting, for it tells indirectly of the beautiful 
 relation existing between the Rector and the Curate, a 
 relation which grew into a friendship both warm and deep. 
 
 In Mr. Polyblank's memory, the recollections of Mr. Bar- 
 nett's opinions on school matters and of his influence on 
 the children are both vivid and detailed : 
 
 As an educational progressive Mr. Barnett was very dissatisfied with 
 the Government restrictions and the teaclimg. The children learnt, but 
 were not educated, their powers of reasoning were cramped. . . The 
 Evening Schools for older boys were uninteresting and the teaching of the 
 three R's failed to attract and hold the lads. The lessons were arranged 
 for grant-earning purposes and the textbooks were patchy and only short 
 cuts to facts. . . But Mr. Barnett was fearless in attacking faults. Tlie 
 want of power to alter or get remedied much of the above was very vexatious 
 to him, and led to many argumentarj' and almost angry discussions with 
 H.M. Inspectors. 
 
 Mr. Young wrote : 
 
 Barnett had a Club P^oom for working men in a squahd slum, and it 
 became a notable centre of his work. It was situated in Walmer Street, 
 which turned out of a narrow thoroughfare and ended in a cul-de-sac. 
 
 ' Up to the end of his life some of the St. Mary's boys remained my 
 husband's friends, bringing their children to see us, and rarely missing 
 the Abbey services when he preached. Sometimes gifts would arrive 
 with notes such as the following : 
 
 December 31, 1884. — From three of your " old boys," who often think 
 of you and pray God bless you. 
 
 C. W. HoNYCHUKCH, George S. Hunt, J. Phillips. 
 
 Twenty-seven years after Canon Bamett had left St. Mary's, he wrote : 
 Whitechapel, October I4th, 1899. — I preached last Sunday at Bryanston 
 
 Square. It was good to be back in the old memories, and to shalie liands 
 
 with some who had not forgotten. 
 
THE MEN'S CLUB 27 
 
 , . . The houses were badly built and badly kept, the people of the poorest 
 sort. A house was taken there and the two rooms on the lower floor 
 thrown into one. This formed the L'lub Room. It held about twenty 
 men and there were no conditions of membership. Subject to the limita- 
 tions of space it was open to anj'one every evening. Just a place where 
 thej' could sit and talk, with a table or two for draughts, dominoes, or chess 
 if they hked to learn it. That was all, no cards, no drink. Here he was 
 to be found on the greater number of evenings every week, tlie centre of 
 attraction to those who gathered there to hear him talk and to be drawn 
 out by him. . . One was pretty sure to see a group, whatever evening 
 one dropped in, in close intercourse with the master mind. Some characters 
 amongst them 1 shall never now forget. One, older than the rest, held a 
 kind of authority which all seemed to own, of sober judgment and the 
 power of quiet utterance ; another, a keen, irrepressible young Irishman, 
 made no secret of his anti-English sentiments ; a third, of the same blood 
 as he, silent and broochng, probably one of tire dynamite conspirators. 
 Both these two were certainly Fenians. The talk was never frivolous ; 
 it was turned naturally upon the political, social, and industrial topics of 
 the day. V7e lieard much of the Hyde Park riots — hov/ easy it liad been 
 to pull the raihngs down — of Gladstone, Bright, Beales, Odger ; of the 
 Gas Stokers' strike, etc., etc. One evening was set apart for a regular 
 discussion — a " ba.te " [debate] as they were pleased to call it ; sometimes 
 he would read or lecture to them ; now and then would introduce others 
 to talk to them, or to gain information for their own minds about those 
 of working-men. 
 
 To trace the beginnings of great movements is always 
 difficult, but as St. Mary's parish was the home of the 
 first Charity Organisation Committee and as Miss Octavia 
 Hill, Mr. Fremantle, and my husband were closely con- 
 cerned with its inception, it seems necessary to give a short 
 account of the existing parochial machinery for rehef 
 previous to its advent. Mr. Young's account is : 
 
 Before the C.O.S. came upon the scene, the admuiistration of Charity 
 consisted of Uttle else than the distribution of doles. In our parish there 
 was an attempt at organisation made by the mstitution of a paid Almoner, 
 and there were weekly meetings held, but practically the administration 
 came into Earnett's hands, and the meeting did little but endorse his 
 actions and recommendations. 
 
 The notable meeting which led to the formation of the 
 first local Committee of the C.O.S. Miss Octavia Hill re- 
 ferred to in these words : 
 
 18G9. — We are having a large meeting m the parish this week to try to 
 organise the rehef given ; very opposite creeds will be represented — 
 Archbishop Manning, Mr. Llewellyn jOavies, Mr. Fremantle, Mr. Eardley 
 WUmot, and others. . . Mr. Fremantle, the Rector of our district, and 
 the main mover in the matter, is to call on me to-day. May some power 
 inspire me with intellect and speech ! I have hardly a hope that they wUl 
 
28 THE FIRST C.O.S. COMMITTEE 
 
 place me on the Committee. 1 shall try boldly, but I thiak no ladies will 
 be admitted. 
 
 But this last fear was not justified, for to the Committee 
 was added Miss Octa via— October 1869 — who in her turn 
 proposed me, and thus I had tlie privilege of working almost 
 daily with her and knowing the Charity Organisation Society 
 from its very birth. The desperate need of such an organ- 
 isation is so admirably summed up by Mrs. Bosanquet that 
 I cannot do better than quote the paragraph intact : 
 
 This was the situation in London at the end of the sixties. On the one 
 hand a confused mass of poverty, crime and mendicancy, living side by 
 side with the independent wage-earners under conditions of overcrowding 
 and insanitation, and baffling all the eiiorts of authority and benevolence, 
 " The magistrates of the metropolis, one after another, expressed despair 
 and hopelessness in presence of the clamorous crowds that beset their 
 offices from day to day." On the other hand, a Poor Law administered 
 so as to aggravate the evil, and a host of philanthropic societies and 
 individuals confused and helpless before the magnitude of the demands 
 made upon them. Those actually engaged in relief work were unable 
 " to see the wood for the trees " ; absorbed in the importunate claims upon 
 their own time and resources, they knew and cared little for what otliers 
 were doing ; and while a united effort might have checked the rising tide 
 of pauperism and mendicancy, there was no one to marshal their forces and 
 bring order into their campaign. To those who were studying the question 
 the need was clear, the means of meeting it less obvious. The associations 
 before which they expressed their convictions had not the organisation 
 which would have enabled them to give effect to their ideas ; they were 
 not in touch with the thousand and one agencies to be iniiuenced, they 
 had no standing in the poorer quarters where, if at all, the evils must be 
 met and overcome. Some new agency was needed to bring together the 
 thinkers and the workers, to show how principles might be applied in 
 action, to give effect to theories, and to turn schemes into working plans. 
 
 That "new agency" was the Charity Organisation 
 Society, usually called the C.O.S. Of it Mr. Young wrote : 
 
 From the first Barnett took a most active part in this reform, and it 
 was in connection with it that his friendship with Miss Octa via Hill began. 
 She offered herself as a worker to Mr. Fremantle, who very cordially accepted 
 her ideas. She soon discovered where they would be most appreciated, 
 and in your husband found a thoroughly congenial mind. Upon him the 
 effect of her coming was to cause him partially to throw off the reserve 
 which his modesty had imposed upon him, and together they became the 
 driving wheels of Charity Reform in our parish. 
 
 About the same time our Rector established a Parish Council, elected 
 by popular vote, which he entrusted with a large control over the 
 arrangements both of Church and parish. . . The plan of procedure, 
 which took a great deal of time and thought, was entirely the work of the 
 two brains whose authority on the subject of relief we all instinctively 
 recognised. . . But it was not aU plain saibng. There was a great deal 
 of prejudice to be overcome, and nothing was more difficult to deal with 
 
MISS OCTAVIA HILL 29 
 
 than the soft-hearteduess which could see nothing but hard-heartedneas 
 ill the refusals to give. One old gentleman I remember who sat at the end 
 of the table, and therefore next to the appUcants, slipped a sixpence under 
 the corner of it into a poor woman's hand, as Miss Hill was pointing out 
 to her the reasons why we could not give her monej', and offering her the 
 soundest advice. The old gentleman was afterwards called to account by 
 your husband and melted into tears for his own delinquency ! This will 
 serve to illustrate the relations between him and the old-fashioned people 
 of whom there were a great many in the parish. They did not understand 
 the working of his mind, and showed Little sympathy with his ideals. 
 They did not, I think, particularly like his preaching. But there was no 
 one who was not strucls; by his obvious sincerity and earnestness, and 
 who did not admire his intense devotion to his work. If there ■n'ere not 
 many who sought his intimate friendship, there were none with whom 
 he was not on perfectly friendly terms. 
 
 The profotind influence which Miss Octavia Hill had on 
 Mr. Barnett it is impossible to describe. She came to him 
 as a new revelation of womanly potentiahties, for which 
 his dear mother and the women he had known at Bristol 
 had given him no indication. The Archdeacon of Durham, 
 himself a friend of my husband in those early days, has 
 written : 
 
 I knew Bamett's father, mother, and brother, and doubt whether they 
 contributed much to his work. Truth to say it was the Octavia HQl 
 circle and you, to him the chief factor in it, who made the man, touching 
 him with a new and higher life. 
 
 And who, kno-s^ing Miss Octavia, could wonder that her 
 noble influence awakened minds and hearts ? For others 
 who did not know her, it will be helpful to recall the temper 
 of those who flung coppers to beggars and complained that 
 their presence spoiled the pleasure of their walks, and to 
 reahse the wooden thought of the official which treated 
 sufferers as " cases " to be reheved at the minimum expen- 
 diture of time and money ; and then to contrast both with 
 the words and thoughts put forth in a paper read by Miss 
 Octavia before the Social Science Association in 1869. She 
 said : 
 
 Alleviation of distress may be systematically arranged by a society ; 
 but I am satisfied that, without strong personal influence, no radical 
 cure of those who have fallen low can be effected. Gifts may be pretty 
 fairly distributed by a Committee, though they lose halt their graciousness ; 
 but, if we are to place our people in permanently self-supporting positions, 
 it wiU depend on the various courses of action suitable to various people 
 and circumstances, the ground of which can be perceived only by sweet 
 subtle human sympathy, and power of human love. . . 
 
 By knowledge of character more is meant than whether a man is a 
 drunkard or a woman ii? dishonest ; it means knowledge of the passions , 
 
30 MISS OCTAVIA HILL 
 
 hopes, and history of people ; where the temptation will touch them, 
 what is the little scheme they have made of their own lives, or would make, 
 if they had encouragement ; what training long-past phases of their lives 
 may have afforded ; how to move, touch, teach them. Our memories 
 and our hopes are more truly factors of our lives than we often remember. 
 
 It was not only what Miss Octavia said and did which 
 influenced others. It was herself ; her deep heart, stead- 
 fast mind, and dauntless spirit which fed and stimulated 
 those who Kved within the reach of her influence. Not that 
 she was A^dthout faults. No, she had quite real ones, but 
 they were her own, not a few taken out of a popular cata- 
 logue. When I read obituary notices of her, crediting her 
 ■\vith the commonplace virtues of kindness and unselfishness 
 and gentleness, it annoyed me because those were not her 
 virtues, and enumerating them gave the wrong impression 
 of her character. She was strong-Avilled — some thought 
 self-willed — but the strong will was never used for self. 
 She was impatient in httle things, persistent with long- 
 suffering in big ones ; often dictatorial in manner but 
 humble to self-effacement before those she loved or admired. 
 She had high standards for everyone, for herself ruthlessly 
 exalted ones, and she dealt out disapprobation and often 
 scorn to those who fell below her standards for them, but 
 she somewhat erred in sympathy by urging them to attain 
 her standards for them, instead of their own for themselves. 
 
 " His standard is only getting drunk once a week instead 
 of every day. Let us begin on that," I once said to her of 
 one of the tenants of Barrett's Court, where I was the volun- 
 teer and inefficient rent-collector ; whereupon she scorned 
 me. On the other hand, I thought that her demands for the 
 surroundings of the tenants were not high enough. She 
 expected the degraded people to Live in disreputable con- 
 ditions, uvtil they proved themselves worthy of better ones, 
 whereas it can be argued that, for most folk, decent environ- 
 ment is essential to the promotion of decent hfe. 
 
 She had very httle sense of her own humour, and none at 
 all of other people's, and I have seen with amusement my 
 husband's best stories break before her close but irresponsive 
 attention, especially if it occurred to him in the middle that 
 the tale would not be up to her moral standard, for she 
 expected high ethics even in jokes. She loved beauty to 
 quite an unusual degree, and constantly found loveHness 
 in small unobtrusive details, both in nature and art, but she 
 resented being shown a view or having het ^-l^tention drawn 
 
MISS OCTAVIA HILL 31 
 
 to pictures or china, and usually disMked other people's 
 arrangement of flowers or furniture. She took enormous 
 pains with her workers and hked explaining herself and her 
 principles to them, but she would brook no interference with 
 her plans even in details ; and they were strong and brave 
 persons who ventured to push their arguments against her 
 views. She evoked more admiration than love, but she 
 loved love ; and it was a trait in her character, which we never 
 could understand, that she snubbed and stamped out the 
 loves of some of the noble women who were ready to pour 
 out their best at her feet. She had a remarkable power of 
 obtaining help. Yoking her visions to her actions, she 
 lived to see many of them reaUsed. Her enthusiasm was 
 frank and infectious, and she painted even the skeletons of 
 her organisations until they became interesting. Among 
 her rare and most attractive quahties was a disregard of 
 cold, hunger, or other physical discomforts. Indeed she 
 seemed to dehght in bearing with joy what other people 
 complained of. Of her Mrs. HiU wi'ote : 
 
 Ootavia's mumps at present are nothing but a subject of joy to her ; 
 for she stays at home and gets through quantities of work with the most 
 gladsome spirit. 
 
 It was this habit of mind which enabled her frequently 
 to disregard the normal sufferings of the poor, and to expect 
 them to feel the same indifference that she felt to petty 
 hardships. She wrote to Miss Mayo : 
 
 Somehow personal poverty is a help to me. It keeps me more simple 
 and energetic, and somewhat low and humble and hardy in the midst of a 
 somewhat intoxicating power. It pleases me too, to have considerable 
 difficulty and effort in my life, when what I do seems hard to the people — 
 though they never know it. 
 
 She was small in stature with a long body and short legs. 
 She did not dress, she only wore clothes, which were often 
 unnecessarily unbecoming ; she had soft and abundant hair 
 and regular features, but the beauty of her face lay in her 
 brown and very luminous eyes, which quite unconsciously 
 she Ufted upwards as she spoke on any matter for which she 
 cared. Her mouth was large and mobile, but not improved 
 by laughter. Indeed Miss Octavia was nicest when she was 
 made passionate by her earnestness. She lived with her 
 mother and three sisters, all five supporting themselves by 
 keeping a girls' school at 14, Nottingham Place, Marylebone. 
 
32 MRS. HILL AKD HER DAUGHTERS 
 
 They were remarkable women, each with well-defined 
 individuaUties, good and pubhc-spirited, devoting them- 
 selves to the service of their pupils, and the poor. Their 
 pupils honoured them and worshipped, as schoolgirls will, 
 either Mrs. Hill, Miranda, Florence, Emily, or Octavia, as 
 their tastes dictated. I was never at their school, but when 
 I joined Miss Octavia's group of workers I was young 
 enough — eighteen — to be admitted to mix with the pupils, 
 and then reahsed the marvellous powers possessed by Miss 
 Miranda, who still fives in my memory as the most beautiful 
 of human characters. 
 
 Into this uruque family of five fine women Mr. Barnett 
 was introduced when he was twenty-four, and introduced 
 by the best of chaimels, common work for a common aim. 
 Miss Octavia was six or seven years older than he was, and 
 having clearly thought out her principles on refief and how 
 they would affect and remedy some of the social economic 
 evils of the time, she took him \vithout effort or fuss as a 
 pupil, and poured out both her ideals and methods for their 
 attainment. As the districts were mapped out for refief, 
 she gave her workers charge of them, and discussed the case 
 of every appficant with Mr. Barnett, whose ecclesiastical 
 position gave him the opportunity of forming a judgment 
 on the workers' powers, as weU as the requirements and 
 characters of those who soirght assistance. She was very 
 good to him, took trouble to bring him into touch with 
 interesting people, but they met as working comrades 
 mainly and he never introduced her to his faixuly or friends. 
 His feefing for her was deep, strong, and very beautiful, 
 founded on admiration which reached veneration, and in 
 those days it included unquestioning obedience, uncritical 
 agreement, and fervent chivalry. They respectively worked 
 each other hard without pity, while counseUing moderation 
 and rest to others. 
 
 To old Mrs. Barnett, who had only heard of her, she was 
 a source of continual fear, and I attributed part of her warm 
 welcome to me, after our engagement, as due to refief of 
 mind. Though no names were mentioned, her inabifity 
 to understand such a friendship was evidenced in her con- 
 gratulations on my youth, and her strongly expressed 
 opinion that men should marry women younger than them- 
 selves, and not older ladies whose views were aU settled, 
 and who liked the work they had given themselves to do 
 better than taking care of their husbands and their homes. 
 
MES. BARNETT AND MISS OCTAVIA HILL 33 
 
 This libellous view of Miss Ootavia, the old mother, even 
 when they were personally acquainted, never altered, for 
 though the bogey she had conjured up was innocent of the 
 attributed faults, the noble lady had the faults which 
 caused her to take httle trouble about those humdrum 
 people whom she did not find interesting or useful for her 
 aims. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 " Qod is love, and they that love dwell in Ood, they understand the life of 
 God, and to them the world seems very good and people kind and true." 
 
 On December ;>rd, 1870, Air. Barnett and I first met. It 
 Ai^as at the birthday party of Miss Octavia HiU. In 
 inviting Miss F. Davenport Hill she wrote : 
 
 i-Jaturdajf evcnuig December 3rd is our party for our old tenants here. 
 Oh ! do come if you possibly can. 
 
 I remember going early to help Miss Octavia with the 
 arrangements, and doing her beautiful hair in a more becoming 
 way than in the tight twist at the back, which was where 
 she usually carried it on her shapely head. I recaU the 
 guests coming in shyly by the back entrance, and the rather 
 exaggerated cordiahty of Miss Octavia' s greeting in the 
 effort to make them feel welcome; and Miss Miranda's bright 
 tender way of speaking to everyone exactly alike, were they 
 rich or poor ; and old Mrs. Hill's curious voice Avith its rather 
 rasping purr of pride and pleasure and large-heartedness, 
 as she surveyed her motley groups of friends ; and the two 
 Miss Harrisons, those beautiful and generous artistic souls, 
 the one so fat and short and the other so tall and thin, and 
 their duet, purposely wrongly rendered to provoke the 
 communion of laughter, ending with the invitation to 
 ever3'one to say " quack, quack," as loudly as each was 
 able, if only to prove they were aU " ducks." Miss F. 
 Davenport Hill was there, and Mr. E. C. Maurice and Miss 
 Emma Cons and Miss Emily Hill and Mr. Barnett. 
 
 He and I were never introduced, but sat next to each 
 other at the abundant homely meal to which all the guests, 
 still in their out-door garments, sat down together — not 
 the poor sitting and the rich waiting — and we talked ; I, 
 knowing that he was " the Curate " and thinking half 
 contemptuously of him as a member of that fraternity ; 
 he, as he told me long afterwards, wondering what this 
 
 34 
 
MISS H. 0. ROWLAND 35 
 
 " child " with bro^vn curls down her back, handsome furs, 
 and a Tyrolese hat — then the fashion — could be doing among 
 this set of pioneer philanthropists and their low, and often 
 coarse, tenant protegees. I seem to have confided to him 
 that I felt the people to be so painfully ugly, not in their 
 clothes but in their faces and figures, and no doubt he 
 improved the occasion, for in those days he was not wholly 
 free from the sententiousness of the curate mind. To this 
 " child " of nineteen summers had been given a part, a very 
 small part, in one of Miss Octavia's pioneer schemes. These 
 schemes were based on principles which we aU three lived to 
 see revolutionise charity and change the tenor of pubhc 
 thought. Cormting that the only method of improving 
 social conditions was by raising inchviduals, she held that 
 it 'vi'as impertinent to the poor and injurious to their char- 
 acters to offer them doles. They should be hfted out of 
 pauperism by being expected to be self-dependent, and, in 
 evidence of respect, be offered work instead of doles, even 
 if work had to be created artificially. To this end, and mth 
 the support of the Rector, Miss Octavia Hill had recently 
 started a workroom for women, and created an odd-job de- 
 partment for the houses she managed. As St. Mary's parish 
 was mapped out into rehef districts, each was placed under 
 the care of a visitor, and all apphcants were offered work 
 as a test of their needs and capabihties. It was my privilege 
 to be one of these visitors, and the efforts to assist the 
 heroine of my Ufe brought me into working relations -with 
 Mr. Barnett. In 1871 he began to write to me on parochial 
 matters, and, Avith no care for him and no conception of 
 his feeling for me, I yet had such a conviction of the im- 
 portance of his character that I kept his letters. They 
 are duU reading, but give evidence of his intimate knowledge 
 of the parishioners, and his steadfast adherence to the 
 principles on which the experiment was based. 
 
 34, Upper Montagu Stbbet, August 1871. 
 
 1 Deab Miss Rowland, — Mrs. T has a letter ; she overcame 
 
 me by her anxiety to see another doctor, though I thought her 
 
 wish unwise. . . I will watch J,Irs. Mac . Old W has as 
 
 much from us as he can expect, within the last two months 4s. 
 a week have been added to his income. I leave the soothing 
 of his bitterness to you with perfect confidence in your 
 
 success. . . Will you let me know where Ivlrs. Q is 
 
 to go at Ventnor, and when ? in fact, tell me all I have 
 
 1 This type is used only for Canon Bamett's words. 
 
36 PARISH WORK 
 
 to do. Rhoda got safely to the Home, but beyond this her 
 parents have as yet heard nothing. . . S came on Mon- 
 day ; 1 sent him to the Organisation Society. We shall, I sup- 
 pose, grant him the £3.0.0. . . When I saw T a week ago 
 
 he was still living at Paradise Place, but his boy had gone to 
 
 live at his place in the Edgware Road. . . C has not 
 
 come back, but the son is coming out of hospital. . . Some of 
 
 the expense of R should be borne by us — I have your 
 
 £1.3.5 towards it. To-morrow I shall not be at the C.O.S. I 
 am going to luncheon with the Governors of the Fever Hospital, 
 following, you see, your advice by making friends. . . 
 
 I gave your message that you wanted to see S and your 
 
 messenger was free, I think, from jealousy though not from 
 
 envy. . . I went to see Mrs. N . I wanted to make 
 
 acquaintance with your particular old woman. I did not fall 
 in love with her ; an old woman of mine at No. 10 opposite, 
 is, I think, much nicer. 
 
 To H. 0. R., December 31 si, 1871.— Will you let me have the 
 
 letter from Lord ? I think I know a woman who would 
 
 like to go to America. ... I saw Miss Hill in Clifton, where 
 she is as usual creating life and love. I was very pleased to 
 hear from her that you are going to be one of her party at 
 Ruskia's lecture. King Edward's Refuge, Spitalfields, can 
 
 take in Emily W . 1 will refer her to you. Mrs. S ■ will, I 
 
 think, under your influence send one child with Miss Rye. . . 
 
 I know that you are always at home on Thursday and the 
 knowledge does not add to the pleasure I usually find on those 
 nights in Walmer Street Club. . . 
 
 During the week I have been most interested by a young 
 compositor who is d3ring. He says I have done him good ; 
 perhaps I have. He talks quite sensibly and without any cant 
 of trust in the love, or he says he likes better to say, the " mercy 
 of God." Do you know it is the first time I have felt my re- 
 ligion or theology to be strong enough to help the dying ? I 
 could tell you more about him, but not now. I love the body 
 and the body's life so much that few things really pain me 
 more than to see a young man die. 
 
 I hope that I shall see you next Friday ; it seems an age since 
 we met, long enough to make one fancy that you really did 
 " take the veil " as you threatened when I left you at that 
 mysterious door. Thank you for your good wishes ; I can use 
 no words so fitting as yours. You have your own hopes for 
 your future work, and I have my own hopes about that future 
 which I wish to be realised. Your words though are the best, 
 may you have in the New Year " all God's good gifts and suc- 
 cess — the highest." . . How the last hour of the year stirs 
 up one's memories and one's hopes ! 
 
MISLEADING MANNERISMS 37 
 
 To H. 0. R., January lUh, 1872. — I was very disappointed 
 
 last night that you were not with us. Perhaps though this, as 
 other disappointments, ends in better things, and you will 
 have more strength for other days. My faith however is so 
 weak as to plan particular pleasures and to grieve when hopes 
 are broken. Ruskin was very good and the lecture was charac- 
 teristic. The bird of calm is the halcyon, the kingfisher, who 
 for love became a bird, and for whom the Gods give days of 
 calm. We are to aim at making for ourselves nests of calm, 
 and he told us how. 
 
 On February 4th, 1872, Mr. Barnett wrote to ask me 
 to marry him. The letter surprised me very much, as I had 
 taken his many communications as representing his anxiety 
 for the success of Miss Hill's social experiment, and the 
 consecj[uent frequent supervision of one of her young 
 workers. Moreover, he looked so very much older than 
 his age — twenty-seven — that I had accepted his interest 
 as that of a Idndly elderly gentleman, with small sensitive 
 hands, a bald head, and shaggy beard. Indeed, both in 
 appearance and manner, he was far removed from a girhsh 
 idea of a lover. Years after our marriage, when we had 
 been to see The Private Secretary, he, amid his laughter, 
 declared that in his early curate days he had closely re- 
 sembled the caricature of the worthy ecclesiastic in the 
 play. We of course contradicted the modest assertion, but 
 it was not whoUy without truth. ^ He dressed very badly, 
 generally obtaining his clothes by employing out-of-work 
 tailors in the district. He always wore a tall silk hat 
 which, as he had purchased by post, never fitted, and so was 
 usually tilted over his forehead or rammed on at the back 
 of his head. His umbrella was a byword, and he always 
 bought his black cotton gloves two or three sizes too large. 
 He approved of wearing a flannel shirt and united it to a 
 white collar with a black silk ready-made tie. The beautiful 
 humiUty of his nature made his manners diffident and uneasy ; 
 indeed he was often at the same time both shy and aggres- 
 
 1 Lady Courtney, in response to a request for some remembrances of 
 those days, wrote : 
 
 It was in the winter of 1875 when I first met Canon Bamett. I was 
 living and working with Octavia Hill when the Vicar of St. Jude's and his 
 young wife called in Nottingham Place. I was not attracted, and shall I 
 confess what my first impression was of one who in after-years became 
 my dear and honoured friend ? Well, the young man — for he was young 
 then, though he never looked it — struck me as plain and insignificant 
 and with no easily read expression. In fact, what in my old hunting 
 days I should have classed as a " poor thing." 
 
38 NOBILITY OF NATURE 
 
 sive, defects which he covered by a frequent nervous laugh. 
 His active sympathy made him almost servile in his anxiety 
 to aid, and yet the absence of the instinct of sex protection 
 produced difficult incidents. For instance, I recall his 
 astonishment at my indignation when, at one of Miss 
 Octavia's tenants' parties, he and Mr. Young carried a 
 drunken man and laid him at the bottom of the van to 
 travel home, under my and the other women's feet. 
 He carried his money in a cheap purse, doled out stamps as if 
 they were priceless, and was punctihous almost to parsimony 
 on petty financial matters, small habits which were entirely 
 contrary to his real generosity of heart. Insignificant as 
 wexe these externals, they happened to be peculiarly un- 
 attractive to a girl who had been reared in a luxurious home, 
 accustomed to lavish living and entertaining, who revelled 
 in hunting and gardening and outdoor hfe, and whose beau 
 ideal of a man was her vigorous happy chivalrous father, 
 whose loss she was then deeply mourning. He was a man 
 who, with all his sterhng virtues, only " considered the 
 poor " by the medium of his purse, being occupied in enjoy- 
 ing every aspect of life with his children and his worldly 
 art-loving friends, taking his pleasures with a careless 
 generosity which may have been reprehensible but which 
 was very endearing. 
 
 Mr. Barnett's wish troubled me very much. He was 
 entirely different from any of the men I had known, and 
 in the plans I had formed for spending my life at Bethnal 
 Green I could see no place for marriage with its obedience 
 and its ties. My inclination was to give a decisive " No " 
 to his beautiful letter, but I knew that, if I did so, either 
 he or I would have to give up Miss Octavia's work ; and to 
 injure her schemes at that juncture was an impossible con- 
 ception, worth the demand of any sacrifice on the part of 
 either of us. I therefore wrote to tell him that my feehng 
 for him was only that of respect, and suggested that we 
 should go on with our work for six months and not refer 
 to the matter during that period. The letter was quickly 
 answered in these words : 
 
 Thank you ; let all things be as 3'ou say. I am sure you will 
 do whtt is right. . . Six months seems a long time, but perhaps 
 the end will come sooner. Anyhow I trust you now as I woiild 
 trust yon always, and I am yours in love and life. — S. A. B. 
 
 I said nothing to anybody about his wishes, but the 
 
DECISION TO PUBLISH EARLY LETTERS 39 
 
 knowledge of Mr. Barnett's affection caused him to take a 
 larger place in my thoughts, as I endeavouied to look 
 behind the irritating mannerisms to tind his nature, tastes, 
 and faiths, an endeavour that Iiis frequent and illuminating 
 letters made more easy. Every letter contained information 
 or questions about the work we were doing togetliei', but 
 all these passages have been excluded, the extracts selected 
 being chosen to illustrate his personahty, and to explain 
 the influence of his love on his life and work. 
 
 The decision to give them to the world has been made 
 with a great effort and has involved to me a sense of irre- 
 trievable sacrifice. But as I recognise the interest of the 
 thoughts, the lofty ideahsm of the principles, the noble 
 patience of his unconcjuerable love, and the humble hope- 
 fulness they express ; and when I compare them with the 
 trivial personaUties of most so-called '' love-letters," I feel 
 it is my duty to share with kindred spirits, and especiaUy 
 with the young for whom he cared so sympathetically, a 
 knowledge of the divine in human relations. I do not 
 feel that contact with the world will suUy my treasured 
 letters, for with deep understanding he ever taught that 
 faith in what was best in man produced it. Never for a 
 moment did he doubt Lowell's words — 
 
 " Be noble ! and the nobleness that lies 
 In other men, sleepmg, but never dead, 
 Will rise in majesty to meet thine own." 
 
 So I surrender my letters, certain they will evoke if not 
 sympathy at least the silence of respect. 
 
 34, Uppee Montagu Street, ^¥., March 3Gtli, 1872. 
 
 Deab SIiss E,owla]Sid, — I don't think our words in the least 
 carried our thoughts to one another yesterday. Such failure 
 makes one long for other means of knowing and being kno"Rai, 
 and does it not also show that not by words but by slow- working 
 acts is it possible to bring souls to God ? 
 
 I won't say that I was sorry not to see you this morning, I 
 am more glad that you should take care of yourself than give 
 me the chance of meeting you. You see, 1 want 3'ou to live 
 even though you dislike the body and its requirements so much, 
 and though 1 know that life cannot die with the body. I don'fc 
 tlunk however my wish is wrong ; after all it is only through 
 our bodies that we are able to be ourselves or know others. 
 
 I have just answered Iwiss Jj ill's letter. I can't think why 
 you and she should consider me so able to do -without service. 
 Perhaps people never do see their own work and power. I know 
 
40 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 though what has been done and what might be done. I am 
 sure there is no man who needs more what you can give than 
 i do. Alone, there is some chance of my becoming cold, politic, 
 rational. I need as Caponsacchi did, 
 
 " To have to do with nothing but the true. 
 The good, the eternal — and these, not alone 
 In the main current of the general life, 
 But small experience of every day. 
 Concerns of the particular hearth and home : 
 To learn not only by a comet's rush 
 But a rose's birth — not by the grandeur, God, 
 But by the comfort, Christ." 
 
 Please don't you mistake me by thinking that I by myself 
 can do God's work. 1 don't think I could alone. 
 
 April 1th, 1872. — To write to you is the next best thing to 
 talking to you. As I have told you I cannot work alone, and 
 preaching is lonely work ; to-night, therefore, I seem to crave 
 for sympathy and can find it only in writing to you. I saw you 
 in the churchyard and turned back with the intention of join- 
 ing you, but when I saw others with you I felt shy and went 
 on. I like showing myself to you, but I am, you know, " re- 
 served " and don't like showing myself to others. Preaching as 
 I did, I felt as if I had been dragged out into the light and 
 shunned meeting those who had seen me. Perhaps my dislike 
 arises from the great need I feel for fellow-workers to fill out 
 my work. Preaching I put myself and only myself forward. . . 
 
 Since church. Young and I have been discussing things in 
 general with Mr. Fowle. On one subject we were for once 
 agreed, viz. the very slight reference our Lord ever makes to a 
 state hereafter. The parables read with the thought that thej' 
 refer to a present state become easy to luiderstand. You can 
 imagine how I back up such views. Christ gives joy not by 
 promising a future good, but by making us able to enjoy the 
 present. I intend to try j\Ir. Fowle with your argument about 
 spiritualism.! He will say, as I gathered to-night, that it is 
 impossible to believe a miracle which has no moral purpose. 
 
 I have been thinking about you and Lucy T and my 
 
 conclusion is that you must see her alone. We both agreed 
 last night that to shield one we love from what might be un- 
 pleasant if it be right, is neither brave nor kind. You must, 
 however, find out more certainly where she is, and about doing 
 this we may settle when we meet.^ 
 
 1 I was deeply interested in spiritualism, and had evidence that I 
 possessed whatever the power is which made tables move, knocks supply 
 the unknown answers to questions, and " Planchette " to write. 
 
 2 Lucy T was a girl in my district who had left her home and gone 
 
 to live with a disreputable companion. It was to seek her in those haunts 
 of vice that he now agreed. 
 
LETTERS, 1872 41 
 
 April IQth, 1872.— Last night I erred in thinking and speak- 
 ing hard things about myself. I forgot, you see, the passage 
 you showed me in Aurora Leigh and anything you said I richly 
 deserved. 1 don't thinly that men are only props for women 
 to lean upon. Surely God very very often speaks through 
 women to men. I have reason to know this, and if it is depend- 
 ing to look to Jliss Hill for inspiration to enable me to work, 
 then I depend. In fact, as I said the other day, I want, as 
 Caponsacchi did, God near me, and I don't think the want 
 unmanly. Is it not woman's work " to guide, to comfort and 
 command ? " 
 
 The preaching question is a long one. I want very much to 
 hear everything you can say about it; it never can be " pre- 
 sumptuous " for you to do what you are able to do. I know 
 that God's truths must be given, the question is how, by life 
 or by words ? Did you ever think why it was our Lord was 
 not transfigured before many but only before those Ke specially 
 loved ? This is too long a subject for a letter. 
 
 I am anxious about Kate D } I heard wretched things 
 
 about her yesterday. 
 
 April 15th, 1872. — Letters are a long way behind conversation, 
 and are a very poor substitute for a talk with you. I seem 
 hardly to have seen you at all last week, and now Miss Hill wants 
 me to do the books next Saturday. I must get off this in a 
 way to satisfy my conscience and yet have the afternoon with 
 you on the river or somewhere equally pleasant. Can your 
 sister go on Saturday ? I am so afraid of giving up any actual 
 duty ; as it is I give up for myself so much thought. Here, 
 though, I can satisfy my conscience, if it is so much more im- 
 portant to be than to do, and the thoughts that are so pleasant 
 help me to be more and feel more. You don't mind this kind 
 of dependence, do you ? I am almost sure that it is the right 
 kind ; when I read things which stir my mind I long to be able 
 to talk them out with you, and I am sure I should be better 
 for such talk and come to much truer conclusions. 
 
 Have you ever noticed how much women's influence has been 
 wanting in history ? It is hard to mark the mighty work it 
 doubtless has done because it works secretly ; but in many 
 great characters we may see the want. How many have been 
 Lydgates, making women the companions of their holidays, 
 
 1 I smile when I recall the dismay of my conventional aunt, when, 
 
 on going after Kate T> , I found that she was in bad hands, and that 
 
 the only way of saving her was by then and there taking her home with 
 me as an " assistant parlourmaid." " What ! a girl with no training and 
 a bad character, out of a low court, to handle oui cut glass and Spode ! " 
 She broke some, it is true, but her strong affection lifted her out of tempta- 
 tion and she strove to do rightly. We ultimately sent her out of the 
 reach of her evil relations to Australia, where she happily married and 
 wrote often of my far-off god-child. 
 
 1—5 
 
42 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 how many have sought in them a " semi-servile and feebly in- 
 teUigent solicitude," how many, like Voltaire, have looked to 
 find in them the friendship they might have found in men ? The 
 philosopher's meeting with Blumine is but a by-play. Women 
 have been playmates or despots. Spurgeon tried to teach us 
 that the key to effective life is unity of life, and unity of life 
 surely means that all human relations must be part of one 
 whole. Every man in his own little way must thus depend, and 
 I am sure I must. 
 
 April I9th, 1872. — It seems that I must again to-day satisfy 
 myself with a letter. Yesterday the people's minds were so 
 full of this murder ^ that visiting them was not cheering. I 
 therefore especially want your company. I mean that the 
 murders made visiting sad because the strength of the sym- 
 pathy seemed to make the people more selfish. " This is the 
 help we are likely to get, our only friend is in our own pockets." 
 " We may starve for all that you or anyone else care." They 
 did feel for the poor ^vretch, and when they railed at the absence 
 of all kindness, I saw in their words signs of much kiadness. 
 Still, the utter want of faith in God or man, the powerlessness to 
 see a care which goes deeper than the care for bodily comforts, 
 the bitterness which raged against all in power, were very pain- 
 ful. I felt as if I were face to face with the forces which destroy 
 and ruin nations, faithless, ignorant, selfish. God knows I don't 
 wonder at the indignation. Ought we not to be indignant, with 
 a -svise indignation, that on God's earth where Englishmen 
 teach and Englishmen rule, a father should choose that his 
 children should die rather than live ? Does not the fact mock 
 the bright sunshine of this spring beauty ? Well for those 
 whose indignation finds vent in quiet hopeful work among God's 
 children. 
 
 I am sure it is neither right nor useful for you to devote 
 yourself so much to the night schools. It is not right because 
 our bodies are members of Christ, part, that is, of the self which 
 has its place in the figure of perfect humanity. It is not useful 
 because your martyrdom will do less for the cause of ediication 
 than your life. I am not altogether selfish therefore when I 
 complain that the night school hides you from me. . . 
 
 It must not be forgotten that the London School Board 
 has been established too late to touch the children who, 
 then aged thirteen to fifteen, gathered into night schools. 
 I had taken the responsibility for three evenings a week, 
 one for boys in an underground cellar, two for girls in a smaU 
 ground-floor room, in a terrible court, which had recently 
 come into Miss Octavia's hands. The people were very 
 
 ' A father haJ mm'dei'cJ his children who were starving and neglected. 
 
LETTERS, 1872 43 
 
 rough, and many lights and quarrels took place, for the 
 settlement of which I was not infrequently called upon as 
 umpire. One evening Mrs. Nassau Senior was in our school, 
 when a specially noisy fight resulted in all the girls tearing 
 out to watch or join in it. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " I asked, as she and I stood alone 
 in the deserted heavy- aired room. 
 
 " I vnR sing to them," she rephed, and standing on the 
 raised step at the doorway, the shouting angry fighting 
 crowd just below her, she lifted up her beautiful voice and 
 sang — 
 
 "Angels, ever bright and fair, 
 Take, oh ! take me to your care." 
 
 The people heard, found something more interesting than 
 the fight, and gathered round her to Ksten, and as she 
 stood in the dark court with a background of flaring gas 
 hght which turned her flaxen hair into a halo, she seemed 
 to some of us to be one of the angels of whom she sang. 
 
 April 2lst, 1872. — It was good of you to write to me to-day. 
 I was longing to see you or hear from. you. There is much in 
 your letter to talk about. God knows I see that the world has 
 wants and that a prophet might satisfy them, but every man 
 who can speak is not a prophet. I believe that the work of 
 " ordinary people," the work of meeting individuals and satis- 
 fying them, is very great."- 
 
 I quite think with you that the " inner feelings " are God's. 
 Might this not be one reason why one should dislike to show 
 them publicly ? They are God's, what right have I to use them 
 and draw attention to m.yself ? They are the forces which are 
 to carry me through life and make all life's acts good, they are 
 not to be spent themselves. The steam which is to drive the 
 engine must not be spent in whistling. Perhaps though all my 
 difficulty comes from my own shortcoming, from that incom- 
 pleteness I so bitterly feel. 
 
 Miss Hill is back by this time, is not that a pleasant thought ? 
 Do you think there is any external standard of beauty ? It 
 seems to me that form can only really be beautiful as it repre- 
 sents life. But lazy generations have fixed the opinions of 
 those who have gone before them into a law. Men therefore 
 now run after forms which fall under this law. Just in the 
 
 1 This letter refers to one of our many talks on preaching, for his sermons 
 were then academic, not to say drear, while at the same time the spiritual 
 needs of individuals was his pervacling thought. I urged that congre- 
 gations were only individuals combined, and should have their needs 
 met from the pulpit by the living words of one whose " inner feelings " 
 told him of God. 
 
44 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 same way they adopt forms of worship which expressed the 
 religious life of their fathers, and think the forms perfect, as they 
 are like the old forms. I am inclined to thinli there is no such 
 external standard. To each one that form is beautiful which 
 represents life to him. I know that the face which shows me 
 most of God, which tells of truth and faith, is beautiful, to me 
 the most beautiful. 
 
 April 2Uh, 1872. — I am just back from an evening with the 
 Comtists. They have a large comfortable room in Lamb Court. 
 Around are heads and engravings of the great men of the past 
 and some humanity motto. Dr. Congreve and the disciples 
 were standing before the fire when we entered. He is a fine tall 
 man with a head that means benevolence rather than anything 
 else. He received us very kindly and we entered on rather a 
 mild chat. Soon some more came in and at last thirteen men 
 gathered round the fire. Among them were Beesley, Harrison, 
 Morison and Proudhon. Then conversation began. Eirst they 
 talked generally of Comte's writings. Morison said he thought 
 Comte aimed at being obscure — 1 daresay this is true, great 
 leaders have spoken in parables for wise reasons — then others 
 went on to remark on the perfection of his writings and how 
 there never seemed to be a word too much or too little. Beesley 
 complained of a want of clearness, instancing as an example 
 Comte's way of speaking of " our fundamental law " when 
 really he would challenge anyone to say what that fundamental 
 law is. Congreve answered that this law is the taking of things 
 as they really are. 
 
 The conversation on the point made me feel as if I were with 
 a lot of parsons. The contempt for the outside world, the 
 worship of the letter rather than the spirit of the master's books, 
 the attitude of attack were " theological." Then the talk 
 came down to politics, but nothing new or striking was said. 
 They showed a strong feeling for Erance and held interference 
 to be higher poHcy than " non-interference." They were in 
 favour of Eawcett's Bill, and seemed to think that Gladstone 
 needed to be " dipped in the cold waters of opposition " to 
 rouse him to action. 
 
 I was very disappointed with Beesley ; he is younger than 
 I expected and he seemed to let rather crude thoughts run out 
 at once into words. Harrison i is one of those mysterious-look- 
 ing people who may be either fast or enthusiastic. He did not 
 say much but I should be ready for much from him. Morison 
 spoke well and seemed a careful thinker. 
 
 Altogether the evening was dull and not at all what I ex- 
 pected. I have pleased myself, though, now by telling you all 
 about the evening. Can't you imagine that I must like writing 
 
 1 Mr. Frederic Harrison in later years became our stalwart friend. 
 
LETTERS, 1872 45 
 
 to you, and can't you imagine, too, that I must like hearing 
 from you ? It is good after the day's work to open heart and 
 mind to one whom we may trust, so good that I don't know 
 how I am going to give up the doing it. 
 
 In order to understand some of the most beautiful passages 
 in the follo-\ving letters it is necessary to mention that 
 though I was young I was bearing difficult responsibilities. 
 A relation whom I loved was faUing into grievous sin which 
 my presence might remedy. An earnest inquirer into 
 spirituahsm who had seen me across the room at a large 
 party, sought an introduction so as to tell me that I pos- 
 sessed occult powers which it was wicked not to use. I 
 feared that one who was very dear to me was wrecking her 
 Ufe by a mistaken judgment ; and my perplexities kept 
 ahve the grief for the loss of my kind father. I longed 
 to hve as well as to work among the East End people, and 
 my sister, who was studying art, often advised me not to 
 neglect such talent as I possessed. It was hard to see 
 what "vvas right amid conflicting duties, and I was not at 
 hberty, even had I wanted to do so, to tell Mr. Barnett all 
 the facts. His care for me had not waned, though I had 
 done my best to alienate his affections, and this added to 
 my unhappiness. I needed to be alone to try to see Life's 
 duties in their true relation, and therefore had decided to 
 sacrifice my work and to go to read in Germany. 
 
 A'pril 28th, 1872. — I was very disappointed at not seeing you 
 to-day, not because I wanted, as I often do, to talk things over 
 with you ; but because I felt so dull and stupid. Thoroughly 
 selfish am I not ? I suppose when people are ill they care only 
 to be with those to whom they don't mind showing themselves 
 as they are. It is a great strain to be cheerful and sympathetic 
 when one's head is like a lump of lead ; this must be my excuse 
 for wanting to see you to-day. My cold makes me so stupid, 
 and it would have been a great relief to have shown myself in 
 my stupidity after straining to talk to discontented women 
 and apathetic candidates as if I were a superior being. 
 
 Our " Retreat " last night produced no results ; we were not 
 equal to mastering Descartes. We had therefore a desultory 
 talk. Mr. Fowle made himself merry at the expense of meta- 
 physicians, and we all came nearer to an agreement on the 
 subject of paid and voluntary work. I do hold that spiritual 
 work should be voluntary, but it is a difficult subject. Too 
 hard to talk out last night, too hard to talk out now with a small 
 boy standing behind my chair anxious that I should fence wth 
 
46 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 him, and who breaks the monotony of waiting by bursting out 
 into patriotic songs. 
 
 Yes, the last three months have made you much dearer to 
 me and I can't conceive how there can be another woman in 
 the world who will so meet my wants and stimulate my powers. 
 To bear the loss of you will strain mj' faith in God as no other 
 loss has ever strained it. But 1 won't think of this, the present 
 is good and nothing can over take that away from either of us. 
 I suppose on Satiu'daj^ we shall have one more quiet talk and 
 then you will be out of sight for a time. I vi-ondcr if you ever 
 guess what a storm of passionate words and acts a man has to 
 hold back as he talks calmly to the one he loves. 
 
 Hay 1st, 1872. — I am driven to write to you, simply to write 
 to you, for I do not know what to say. I can't tell you how 
 ^^Tetched you made me. To plead with you is what I won't 
 do ; to argue with 3rou is I know of no use. Just see how 
 theories fly at the touch of truth. I tried to teach you that we 
 make our own troubles, and here is a trouble which I dare not 
 face. Let me, however, as I have all along, trust you. If 
 A'ou do think it best, think it in yoiu' own heart best, to decide 
 against me before going away, do so. I was weak and stupid 
 when I asked you to let me live in a kind of fool's paradise for 
 the next two months. I can't face the thought of an " ever- 
 lasting l\o," it sent a shudder through me to-day, but I can 
 hope that God will give me strength. I am sure I shall not 
 regret the last few months, if I am not to know you all through 
 life, it is good that I have kno\\ai you so long. The time has 
 been blessed and its effect won't be to make me tired of hfe 
 and weary of my kind. You say I have helped you. I hope I 
 have ; sometimes I think I could help you more. It is hard to 
 understand half confidences, and it is not well to trust to im- 
 agination. You majr be sure God means us here to walk in 
 green pastures and sit beside the waters of comfort. We shall 
 do so when we are not alone, when we are guided, when we 
 conquer temptation. ^\'ould to God that we might together 
 rest in a cj[uiet home, helping and strengthening one another ; 
 it not, God help me, and preserve you. 
 
 May 5th, 1872. — Since Srmday I have learnt to be with you 
 even though I don't see you. I am not therefore going to write 
 a "grumbling" letter. It is very strange, that sense of God 
 between us. I feel you with me as I feel Him. I draw near to 
 you as I draw near to Him. The sense is good and throws light 
 on the Bible, on religion and on life. I begin to see that the 
 words of the most trustful Psalms might be my words. Yes, 
 whatever the future is, the Lord watches over us and the future 
 must be good. 1 pray that the struggle which I left j'ou fight- 
 
LETTERS, 1872 47 
 
 ing has ended, I did so wish to lielp you and I do so long not 
 to be selfish. It would not though have been right for me to 
 have said I would give you up, would it ? 
 
 Tvesday. — I went through the Academy. . . I hope you will 
 teach me about pictures and their meanmg. We may hope, 
 though we don't form plans, and I hope you will help me to see 
 pictures. \\'e had the Confirmation this morning, it is a solemn 
 form, but somehow seems to fall grievously short of what it 
 might be. I wonder if I shall ever cease to attack whatever 
 does not seem the very best ! 
 
 3Iay 8th, 1872. — I think I understand your sorrow and I 
 am sure I cannot blame it. We must grieve when our dear 
 ones are dead and our love and care are no longer needed, but 
 the grief can't last long. Soon we feel that the dear ones are 
 in heaven and know that our love and care glow again through 
 them to brighten other lives. You will be happy, you will feel 
 that the Lord is your Shepherd and the Shepherd of those you 
 love, neither j'our fears nor your hopes mil disturb you, and 
 you will rest by the still waters. 
 
 Do not be anxious about P . Where God has given a true 
 
 pure heart the power to love, it will not love badly nor in vain. 
 Why fear ? Trust God who guides all lives and asks of us 
 only obedience. Why let your hopes disturb you ? You will 
 work for the people, you cannot tell how. God must guide. He 
 gives us our work, and some of us have to do that which seems 
 to us not to be work. Don't then think that you can discover 
 a plan of your life and steer for an end which, good and beautiful 
 though it be, may not be your haven of rest. I am talking to 
 j^ou as I talk to mj'self. I don't want in this letter to bring 
 my own cares forward, but since you know how I see an end 
 before me which is very good and beautiful, but which may 
 not be for me, I try to help you as I help myseK to trust in 
 God. Would that I could give you better help ! I don't think 
 I say this selfishly. I love you so much that I would help you 
 at any price. In this quiet hour perhaps you are praying, and 
 our spirits meet at God's throne and we strengthen one another. 
 About going away, you know best. I can imagine that it will be 
 good for you to be away. For me it can make no difference. 
 God has given it to me to love now, and love I will in all joy 
 and trust. 
 
 May 9th, 1872. — I burnt your letter last night and to-day I 
 feel as one who has had a troubled dream. I think of you in 
 a great passion of sorrow, tried and worn by the forms of hopes 
 and fears. The fancies of the night stand on the same level 
 with the facts in the letter. Imagination is my master and 
 
48 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 surrounds you with sorrow just as it will. I see you so. Some 
 voice says, " Go and find her," but another says, " You are 
 one more cause of sorrow, keep away." I remain alone and the 
 loneliness of unhelpfulness is worse than the loneliness of help- 
 fulness. I do though believe in your future, for God will help 
 you and make you happy and sure. 
 
 May lOth, 1872. — The unexpected joy of meeting you was too 
 much for my old used-up nerves. I quite forget what you said 
 
 about Mrs. Q and Mrs. T . To whom and when does 
 
 Mrs. L pay her money ? 
 
 I can't tell you how glad I was to find you " gooder " and 
 happier. I daresay there is a good deal of selfishness in the 
 gladness, but some of it is pure. I am selfishly glad because 
 now I feel that I can again take a place in your thoughts. I 
 do trust you not to forget me. I hope and i^ray you may get 
 all good while you are away and so soon come back. If nothing 
 inclines you to write and if you come back to send me away, 
 God help me to remember that for you and for me He is for 
 ever on His watch-tower. Goodbye, and believe me to be, 
 Yours for ever, S. A. B." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 " The Worship of the Highest is the bond of union betioeen man and woman, 
 between the members of a society, between the citizens of a nation, between the 
 nations of the loorld." 
 
 It was with a sad heart and puzzled mind that I started 
 for the Continent. My sister and I had been enthusiastic 
 about the Franco- Prussian War and were much disappointed 
 that our offer to nurse the wounded had been refused on 
 account of our youth. Among the interests of the journey 
 were the visits to the battlefields about which I had written 
 to Mr. Barnett. After a few weeks my aunt and sister 
 returned to London, and I went to a school at Boppart 
 where, helped by the beauty of the stimulating Rhine, I 
 tried to see what was right. 
 
 May 2lst, 1872. — I envy you on your way to the mountains ; 
 to us townsfolk God's voice in nature comes so fresh and strong. 
 I never have the least doubt but that you on earth will hear 
 and follow His voice. He won't at once make you "good" 
 and restful. He never does anj'thing quickly. The mountains 
 are the work of ages and a human soul is a greater work than they. 
 Have patience then and soon you will be able to rejoice that 
 His will is being done. 
 
 Do you find an absence of fierceness in St. John ? In his 
 Epistle you will find he felt very passionately and could use 
 very stern words. In reading the Gospel I somehow forget 
 St. John, his individuality seems lost in the individuality of 
 Christ. I can imagine how the Gospel has comforted people, 
 it shows how very close man might be to God. Now and then 
 as I read it at night a flash of such comfort comes to myself 
 and I feel that I have a guide on whom I can depend and that 
 the highest work is within my reach. But soon earth's cares 
 grow large again, and as I read, critical questions arise and 
 difficulties suggest themselves — then I feel that I want j'ou to 
 help me and make me more able to hear God's voice. You 
 could do this, you have helped me to do so already. This is 
 something to be thankful for, if I have helped you that is more 
 to be thankful for. 
 
 40 
 
r>0 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 I suppose I shall hear more certainly of your plans by and bye. 
 Hiy half-formed intention is at present to go away for two or 
 three weeks early in June. When I think how you are wanted 
 here and how you must want to be here, I feel almost mad 
 TOth myself for driving you awaj^ I fancy myself selfishly 
 enjoying the joy of loving while you suffer. It must however 
 be for me right to go on, and the most painful course is not 
 always the most loving, the most unselfish. 
 
 June 2nd, iS7:'. — This is to be an exercise on the pronoun 
 " I." Somehow I never do lil-ce talking to other people about 
 myself, perhaps it is because I don't think the subject would 
 interest them. I know I do talk about myself to my mother 
 because I know she is interested in the smallest thing which 
 concerns me. I can't think it is the same with you. Sometimes 
 indeed I feel that your life is part of mine and that the love 
 which binds me to you can never perish, but then your words 
 of refusal come in, and to them feelings have to give place. 
 However here is the exercise. 
 
 Verb "to like." 
 
 I don't like Paris at all, only its noise and show impressed 
 me. The sight of people on pleasure bent, the noise of their 
 talking, the loudness of their dress, the tawdry churches, 
 the paint and gilt ornamentation, all wearied and disgusted me. 
 Then for art you know I have no real taste. The century ex- 
 pects every man to understand and worship art, so we all talk 
 a little about it. I am conscious of failure really to value it. 
 It is men and women I delight in, their beauties, their folhes, 
 their ugliness all interest me. The battlefields I don't think I 
 should care to see. I do not know enough about the plans of 
 the battle to be able to trace it out on the ground ; then I do 
 hate war, so 1 certainly shall not study its details or try to find 
 interest in them. The gambling tables I did like seeing, princi- 
 pally for the reason you give, the people have forgotten them- 
 selves, one can see them as they are. A rare sight in rich people, 
 they are generally so wrapped up in the clothes of propriety. 
 The gamblers are therefore not all ugly, it is possible to see some 
 bits of true humanity. What you say about the girl is horrible, 
 though I don't wish " kidnapping " were in fashion. The means 
 are generally more important than the end. Your school life 
 must be very pleasant ; you don't say what yovi read. I shall 
 be afraid of you when you come back ; I am almost tempted to 
 go to some quiet spot and read myself. . . 
 
 You say you are not religious, neither am I. It is in your 
 nature to be much more so than I am. Self in a thousand forms 
 hides God from me, and it is only very seldom that I feel at one 
 with Him. The words of the Psalms are far, so far out of my 
 reach. . , 
 
LETTERS, 1872 51 
 
 Do you really think it good for you to be away from home ? ■ 
 I hope it is. What you say of its loneliness and quiet makes 
 me think it may be, but then I know how you long to be with 
 your sister and the people. . . 
 
 Verb " to do." 
 
 Saturday I took the Walmer Street boys to Erith. We wont 
 
 by rail and came back by steamer. Mr. M met me and 
 
 helped amuse the boys. I think they enjoyed themselves. I 
 do like boys, they are so open, so ready to the call on their 
 honour. The scene on board the boat was very horrid. A great 
 many drunken men were partly jolly, partly quarrelsome. The 
 boys got mixed up with them, and when I called them off the 
 
 men were angry and abused Mr. M for being religious. If 
 
 I had been admiring the boys all day, I admired the women 
 now who so bravelj^ wisely, and tenderly managed their drunken 
 husbands. 
 
 Verb " to think." 
 
 I have been writing my sermons. One has been on the value 
 of the body. I tried to show how the body individualises the 
 soul and how he who dies with hands unmarked by the print of 
 the nails, wounds won in the conflict with evil, dies without 
 the marks of the greatest glory. . . At our discussions we 
 have been talking about the relation of authority to opinion, 
 and about angels. As to the first, I don't think authority should 
 have any influence on opinion. We must think for ourselves, 
 and the fact that the Church or public opinion thinks differently 
 must not make us alter our views. If I take the opinion of 
 another person, it is because I have first formed an opinion 
 of him. Then as to angels, I have been arguing that they may 
 be the spirits of the dead doing God's work, bearing His mes- 
 sages to men. My friends hold against me that angels are 
 " subjective." Will the beautiful sound of that word win you 
 to their side ? 
 
 iliss Hill is getting on with the school work, working, I fear, 
 too hard. She does throw me into despair ; I do so httle and 
 feel so worn out ; but I could fill pages in praise of her and 
 then not say all you think about her. Besides I think I had 
 better end this long exercise on "I" or you will never have 
 time or patience to read it. . . I hope you will find time to 
 write to me soon, and in my next letter I will do the verb " go." 
 As for the verb " hope," when shall I dare do it ? 
 
 June 8th, 1872. — Your letter came in about the moment 
 when I was thinking how soon it would be possible to hear 
 from you. I don't think I need tell you of the joy it gave ; it 
 bore to me the brightness of the flowers of which it spoke and 
 sent me down to "V^'almer Street as if I had seen them on my 
 table. Now let me read it again and answer it bit|by bit. 
 
52 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 I should like to know the Germans. I admire and respect 
 their soHd strength, but I am wrongly impatient of slowness ; it 
 would do me good to know them and make me more thorough. . . 
 Yes, I ixnderstand your reason for wishing to study. . . I am 
 not going to be ill, and as I have so often told you, you have 
 done me nothing but good, oh ! so much good that you will 
 never know it. I am going on Tuesday to Chfton to spend a 
 few days with my mother. I don't feel much disposed for the 
 quiet, I am too unsettled, but I must give her some of my 
 holiday. . . 
 
 I think Christ chose to fight alone, every son of man must 
 fight alone, for the heart knoweth its own bitterness. It weakens 
 us if we try to carry our friends into the fight, if we learn to use 
 weapons which are not our own, and life becomes unreal. We 
 have our own trials, we must meet them with our own strength 
 and learn that we have weapons which can kill all foes. To 
 those who thus fight, God will send His angels and tell of victory 
 now and victory for ever. While the fight is going on, it is the 
 part of friends to watch and pray. The thought of the struggle 
 in the garden should help us all. Don't call me strong. I let 
 all kinds of sin and meanness get into my citadel ; if I keep 
 out the greater sins it is often only by throwing myself into 
 work. . . 
 
 About the body I am right. The crown of thorns is man's 
 noblest crown and we wear it because we have bodies. The 
 marks we win in our fight with sin will be our eternal distinc- 
 tion. The body may suck one down, but it is that we may 
 rise again in victorious strength. You do know this and you 
 do bless God for your creation, bless Him for the difficulties 
 which have made you find yourself, bless Him that through 
 you He is giving a message to men which none other has borne 
 or can bear. . . 
 
 About the dinner parties. I grant you I am wrong to turn 
 away from the rich, but we must have our own likings and I 
 don't feel a call to go to them as I am called to go to the poor. 
 I agree that to those who could look into their heart, they would 
 be beautiful, but not more beautiful than other human hearts, 
 would they ? It is their affectation, their unreahty which 
 wearies me. The children, the little girls, arouse in me all 
 kinds of bitter thoughts and wishes. I stand in the potato 
 plot, where there is plenty to do and enjoy. I leave it to others, 
 men or circumstances, to go to the richer plots and bring their 
 beauties to me. Sometimes I think nothing but hard words 
 and cruel cuttings will save the rich, and I am too fond of giving 
 hard words to trust myself to teach them in this way. 
 
 In the past week I have done little, my time has gone in 
 doing small acts. I have read nothing but the June Middle- 
 march and a French play — of the former we will talk when you 
 have read it. I have had some discussion about the right of 
 
BETROTHAL 53 
 
 lyiag. I feel lying can never be right, but where is the line 
 to be drawn. Is disguise right ? is reserve right ? I am 
 driven by such arguments into a corner. I am inclined to say 
 — but tell me what you think. 
 
 Do write when you feel inclined. The mere fact of receiv- 
 ing a letter from you won't add to my hopes or fears. It is five 
 weeks to-day since we really parted, and I am sure your absence 
 has not decreased my love. It is a treasure laid up in heaven 
 which moth can't corrupt and sometimes I think that not even 
 words from you could destroy it. If you say " No," still I shall 
 feel that you can't tear yourself from me, and I shall look on 
 to a more distant future. Please write soon, for your letters 
 are so good to me. I grant I read them through hoping to 
 find grounds for a better hope, but if I find none I can and do 
 rejoice in the present. Now goodbye. You know Without my 
 saying how dear you are to me, and you told me once I had 
 no right to call you " mine." Believe then that I have not 
 learnt to care the least bit less and am now and always, your 
 Samuel Babnett. 
 
 The peace Mr. Barnett hoped for me was given to me 
 at Boppart, but not for long, for on Tuesday, June 18th, 
 my sister wrote to tell me that her engagement to Mr. Ernest 
 Hart was to be very short, and to ask me to return home 
 immediately for her marriage, and to remain with my aunt 
 afterwards. I travelled back at once and reached home 
 on June 24th. On the following day Mr. Barnett and I 
 pHghted our troth, for I had reaUsed that his gift of love 
 was too holy to refuse. Together we spent a long sunny 
 Wednesday on the river at Cookham ; and the next morning 
 he started with his brother for a holiday on the Continent. 
 It seemed a strange action after he had just obtained what 
 he had so longed and patiently waited for, but Mr. Barnett 
 had both perfect self-control and too great a respect for plans 
 to allow them to be broken. He had arranged with the 
 Rector to take his holiday, he had arranged with his brother 
 to go on the Continent, and they were both expecting him 
 to keep his engagements. An incident in his own life — 
 even so great a one as his betrothal — was not to be allowed 
 to interfere with carefuUy-made plans, so he pimctuaUy 
 departed by the very train that had been arranged weeks 
 before. Whether he was right or wrong I do not know, 
 for during aU our glad years together this reverence for 
 punctuality was a frequent small trial to me, and the complete 
 mastery of liis thoughts a cause of envious bewilderment. 
 He would break off the most sacred of confidences 
 
54 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 or the most important of committees if the clock com- 
 manded him to stop, and so wholly was his mind under his 
 control that on one occasion when I was so iU that death 
 seemed imminent, in spite of his deep love and agony of 
 anxiety, he surprised the nurses and wounded my sister 
 by steadily reading Ivanhoe. 
 
 During this hohday Mr. Barnett wrote long and descrip- 
 tive letters, some of which tell of conditions of Continental 
 traveUing very different from what now prevails, but those 
 portions are given which show his character when stirred 
 to its depths. Something also can be gathered of what the 
 obedience to his plans cost us both, for my troubles and per- 
 plexities were increased by his absence. 
 
 Zurich, June '28th, 1872. — I feel like a man who has taken a very 
 deep plunge to avoid breaking his resolution to bathe. I have 
 travelled for thirty hours so as to give myself no chance of 
 turning back, we have pushed on and on and I am now here 
 dog-tired, too tired to do anything but think of you and write 
 to you. As I came through the country and everything seemed 
 to remind me of you and connect itself with you, my thoughts 
 went back to the time when you were travelling through France 
 and everything seemed to remmd you of me. My spirit was 
 persecuting you and wearing you down, your spirit followed 
 me to bless and cheer me. 
 
 Switzerland is very charming. God's work is so grand and 
 man's work is so modest. The mountains tower up one above 
 another, the houses hide away and seem to blush imder the 
 large roofs. This is as it ought to be, is it not ? Men must 
 work, and their work must be seen, but it should be hke a 
 Swiss chalet, modest and hiding, while God's work, the king- 
 dom of right, must stand out grandly like a Swiss mountain. 
 But we must come here together some day, when you have taught 
 me to see things more, when my fuller, my new life is older. 
 Once I saw all scenery with a kind of despair, now with a kind 
 of hope, because its hidden beauties are linked with you and 
 you are mine. 
 
 ZxmiCH, Ju7ie 2Qth, 1872. — Three days are gone of the dark 
 three weeks. I hope that while God gives us bodies, we shall 
 not be often so separated. Thought and letter-writing do 
 something to bring you to me, but now they cannot supply the 
 face and the voice. Then the joy of Wednesday was so new, 
 the fruit of a hope so long held hopeless that now it almost 
 seems a dream and I am ready to start back to make sure of it. 
 
 I think I am learning here the good of a past, for in the hours 
 of rest I find myself living again Tuesday morning (June 26th), 
 
LETTERS, 1872 55 
 
 and di-awing in its strength and comfort. Jlow everything of 
 that day is printed on my soul ! If I could live always as earnestly 
 as then, my sight would be keen and my memory strong for the 
 troubles and wants of the world. I have sometimes thought that 
 your earnestness of purpose might make care for little things 
 impossible, now I see that if the mind and heart are roused, they 
 are roused not for one end only but for all. So Christ, eager 
 to convince the Pharisees, could notice the children's trouble, 
 and bent on death could hear the blmd beggar's cry. I hope 
 now that my life will be more earnest and more full. I think 
 it will. You say sometimes you don't see how you are going 
 to help me. Is not this one way ? There are many many others 
 and I shall take all my life to tell you them. . . 
 
 I hope to find a letter at Coire to-morrow just to feel and 
 know that you are well. Do you know I shrink more from 
 losing j^ou through death than from any other cause ? I always 
 have felt this, I don't know why, so please take care of your- 
 self, take extra care, foolish care. We will read Fifine together, 
 and Browning shall plead the body's cause. . . 
 
 CoiEE, June 30th, 1872. — Here I am writing to you, and I 
 think I want to hear from you much more than you want to 
 hear from me. I have been to the post-office in vain, your 
 letter for me has not arrived, and there is no other comfort but 
 to write to you. . . The memory of last week has not lost 
 all its power to keep me happy. Frank says he knows that I 
 give money away slyly in the greatness of my joy, and that 
 there will be a large deficit in my accounts. Very sad, wo\ild 
 it not be ? were you to make me forget " the principles." He 
 will tell you himself his experience of a travelling companion in 
 my condition. I try not to bore him, and he only makes merry 
 with my supreme content. . . I am going to read something 
 with you — Philosophy or Poetry, whichever you like. What a 
 happy good time I have before me ! 
 
 PoNTEESiNA, July 3rd, 1872. — If letters are not at the poste 
 restante I don't know what I shall do. It will be a week since 
 I have heard. When I think what a pleasure I found and gave 
 away again, I am inclined to complain. 
 
 How wonderful is the power which the spuit has over the 
 body. I am better in health than I have been for many months, 
 and I think the change is more due to you than to the Swiss 
 climate, and now, wearied with heat and work, I can restore 
 myself by writing to you. . . 
 
 Frank is stretched out on a sofa opposite me, sending all 
 kinds of messages to you, how that it is his bnthday, how that 
 he has been taking care of me, how that he is grateful for your 
 mention of him. I am sure you will like Frank, he has even 
 less of art and imagination than I have, but he is just straight- 
 
56 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 forward and good. He is a little too much inclined to turn to 
 the funny side of life, and make his fellows act for his amuse- 
 ment — a result, I imagine, of L'ickens infiuenoe. You will have 
 to help him as you will help me, help him to love beauty and 
 work with heart and mind. . . 
 
 I wonder if we shall ever come here together. I don't think 
 you will be able to rough it as much as is necessary. I was 
 plarming yesterday how dihgenoe travelling would suit you. 
 I thought at first I should not hke to put you into such close 
 quarters with such strange companions, but I was wrong. I 
 am not going to spoil you. I once promised you that you should 
 have room for self-sacrifice. You will see life as it is, find out 
 its real beauties through its real ughnesses. Oh ! it is horrible 
 how men shut women up in a false, glittering, smiling world, 
 and how women love to have it so. Better far that they should 
 know how ugly, how terrible life is, and yet find, as they alone 
 can find, how good is human nature. There, that is a little burst 
 against society, the first for a long time. I am so contented, 
 you see. . . 
 
 SiLVAPLANA, July 4th, 1872. — What you say has made me 
 restless. The whole matter is so important and I wonder if I 
 could help you if I were with you. Erank has just been pro- 
 posing a plan by which I should be home on Sunday. I won't 
 agree to it though. I think you would write for me if I could 
 help you. I shall go on therefore. Besides, what could I do ? 
 Your love and truth must be your guide. . . But I won't 
 go into particulars when I am at such a distance ; all I can say 
 is — Be true, and don't wish your truth-telling eyes anywhere 
 but above your truth-telling lips. I believe that somehow 
 things will be right, but I am anxious to hear, anxious, yet 
 happy that your troubles are now my troubles. . . 
 
 We will indeed always live in a town. I hope in London. 
 Like you I feel that life is but beginning, it is a good life and 
 must bear good fruit. In a little time I shall look on to the 
 future better and see what our work vnW be ; now I can't help 
 simply rejoicing that you are going to work with me. You 
 will be strong to help me. We will depend on one another. 
 There is a true dependence of women on men and men on women. 
 I do know you through and through, and as you love me, I 
 can and will depend on you ; by our dependence we will make 
 one another strong. . . 
 
 That cotton gown question is not settled. I thinlv two would 
 be enough for a trial of will. I am quite equal to letting the 
 whole lot fall overboard, and sacrificing my stinginess to ob- 
 stinacy. . . As to what you say about one's past, I have not 
 thought much of mine. The past seems to have contrary 
 effects. On the Greek and Italian, the effect is to make them 
 dreamy and contemplative, feeders on the shadows of past 
 
LETTERS, 1872 57 
 
 glories ; on the English the effect is to rouse them to equal their 
 fathers' deeds and keep their good name before the world. 
 What is the cause of these different effects ? I tliink it is their 
 different relation to the present. If men feel in them the 
 strength and joy of life, the past is a spur to them, if not it 
 is a soothing drug. Kow liitherto i don't think I have felt 
 all the force of life. I have been afraid of resting under the 
 shadow of work done and have turned away from the past. 
 Now I can feel my life, I can see how God has guided me and 
 the past will be a spur and a help. . . I shrLoli from seeing a 
 wasted life, but I don't think I should mind dying or, what 
 would be worse, seeing you suffer and die for right and good. . . 
 
 CoMO, July 6th, 1872. — I read your letter as we travelled here. 
 It did indeed bring its cloud upon a very fair scene. I am 
 anxious, very anxious to hear more. . . My poor child. I 
 wish I were with you to face this trouble with you. It would 
 not be all pain, for the pleasure of helping you would be so 
 great. 
 
 On Thursday at Pontresina we had proposed to start at 4 
 and go up a mountain, but a mist hung over everything and 
 we remained in bed. Shocking levellers are the mists, they 
 go up from earth and settle upon the hills. Every peak is cut 
 off, and all strange shapes are liid. Something like the spirit 
 of fashionable society, which rises from men's selfish hearts 
 and then settles on their characters, hiding all individuahty 
 and dwarfing the lives God has made. 
 
 Frank and I started, however, at 8 for a walk, and in about 
 three hours we found ourselves in one of the most lovely places 
 I was ever in. All around were the bleak and snowy moimtains, 
 there was no sound save the sound of the water, and once we 
 heard a marmot screech and saw the little creature fly away 
 into the distance. I like sometimes being in lonely places, one 
 feels so entirely oneself, and it is well that we should remember 
 that however much our lives may be bound together, we must 
 still be alone. Was it not Pascal who was in the habit of saying 
 to himself, " I must die alone " ? Soon the snow began to fall 
 on us in our valley, and we tried in vain to walk ourselves warm ; 
 then it was most wonderful to notice the beauty of the flowers 
 which grew on the hard ground and amid the barren rocks. 
 There were yellow and pink anemones, pinks, crocuses, rhodo- 
 dendrons, and many others whose names I don't know. We 
 have picked a lot but have tried in vain to keep them. It is 
 very good to know how even in this barren desolate corner 
 God makes the earth beautiful. He does His best when there 
 are no men to see and applaud, or does He make those places 
 beautiful that those who have no longer mortal bodies, but 
 who still keep their old tastes, might come and see them and 
 find joy ? . . 
 X— 6 
 
58 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 After describing tlie drive from Switzerland into Italy, 
 Mr. Bamett wrote : 
 
 The scenery seemed to mock and protest against the system 
 which established by the stream a frowning guard-house and 
 suspicious watchmen. The earth was made for the Parliament 
 of man and the Confederation of the world. The mountains 
 say so. . . Vv^omen are at work ui rnost of the Italian fields. 
 I think they seemed to work better than the men, but very 
 often all together were lying under the shade. Why is it one 
 does not like to see women at work m the fields ? is it an absurd 
 prejudice, or is it a right instmct ? One is of coiu'se taclined to 
 say that women should only make beauty, but then we know 
 some women who are eminently fitted for hard work. . . 
 
 In Switzerland we had not seen one beggar or been plagued 
 by one porter. liere in Italy they swarmed, about our baggage. 
 Big palaces line the lake and beggars appear in crowds. I 
 wonder if wealth must always mean poverty behind. J\Ir. 
 Fowle argues it is better to have a few very rich than a great 
 many moderately so. He says the mequahty is good, and when 
 hard-pressed confesses he thinks that for the sake of this, a 
 few ought to be sacrificed to riches. I confess to a belief that 
 God does not require such sacrifice. He loves each individual too 
 well, and I hke the idea of fairly divided wealth. . . 
 
 Lugano, July 9th, 1872. — These lakes are very beautiful. 
 Bellagio on Lake Como had a view like a scene in fahy-land. 
 We stopped at an hotel which was on a high wooded hill jutting 
 out into and dividing the lake. As we walked around this hill 
 by paths shaded with olive trees, magnolias, lemon trees, etc., 
 we came on a succession of views taking in all the arms of the 
 lake. We learnt now what it takes to make a summer, how 
 fresh scents, blue skies, soft sounds of bu'ds and insects must 
 all unite. We learnt too sometlung about rest ; there was no 
 need of effort for eye or ear. The mountains stood out clear 
 against the deep blue sky and the slightest sound caught us 
 from any distance. It was very tempting just to sit down and 
 gaze. " One day shalt thou rest." Rest, cessation of effort, 
 is good sometimes. . . The law of rest, I hope I have found it 
 now. As I have told you, my life has been restless, I have worried 
 and wearied myself till I feel thed. iNow I think hand in hand 
 with you, I shall be able to stand still and see all things plainly, 
 see the present standing on the past and made sharp and clear 
 by the deep future. I shall hear God's voice coming softly and 
 gently as it came from the Garden of Eden. So to rest, as we 
 rested at Bellagio, before going out to work. . . 
 
 We went into the cathedral, a large cruciform building in the 
 Italian style. It is of course disfigured by a lot of tawdry altars 
 and some ugly warm painting, but the place was impressive. 
 
LETTERS, 1872 59 
 
 Many men and women were kneeling there, anu we iult that 
 this cool quiet spot next to the busy market did answer a deep 
 true want in men's hearts, iiut as we saw the dozens of fat, 
 coarse priests bustling about, we felt that they were wrong 
 and would have to go. Will the true for a time sink with them, 
 or will mankind shake themselves free of the creatures and 
 worship God as they want to ^ Imagine men building a system 
 out of our love of natme, forcing us to look at God s beauty 
 through their miserable httle spy-glasses, and making them- 
 selves fat on our substance ; such and worse are these priests. 
 There, I have made myself angry by looking at the one blot 
 on the scene. You would have gone, have worshipped and re- 
 turned thanking God because our fathers built these churches. 
 Just as the unreaUty of the rich makes me angry, while you see 
 much to be thankful for in them. Poor women ! here their sub- 
 jection brings them into hard work, but perhaps this is not so 
 bad as bringing them into the position of dolls and ornaments. 
 iVIiss Florence Hill told me she had been reading a book of 
 Mazzini's on The Duties of Man which deals with this subject. 
 If it is translated, we will read it when 1 get home. You see i 
 look forward to yom- reading whatever 1 read. We will talk the 
 books over together, and in Queen's Gardens revel among King's 
 Treasuries. . . 
 
 LucEBNE, July 11th, 1872. — As I read the account of your day 
 of difficulty, I feel angiy with myself that i was not by you 
 to help you. There was so much for you to decide, and for 
 you to bear. God helped you tiurough and the trial v/ill make 
 you stronger, but it does seem selfish for me to sit here and 
 write this. A difficult question, this of helping. I was sitting 
 on a wall the other day waiting for the diligence to go on. A 
 woman was trying to undo the door of the maciune, and the 
 door had a pecuHar fastening. l\iy tirst impulse was to go and 
 help her, my second thought was that if i left her alone she 
 would discover the secret of the lock and be wiser for ever, my 
 third was that had I gone, she would have learnt to believe in 
 a bit of human kindness, and perhaps this would have been a 
 better knowledge than that of the lock. This, however, is a 
 difficult question, and I don't feel happy at letting you grow 
 strong on your troubles all by yourself. I shall wait for to- 
 morrow's letter and then decide about coming home. . . 
 
 I am very glad you called on Mrs. Piggott ^ ; she has been very 
 good to me, one of the best as one of the oldest of my London 
 Mends. She has her faults, but is true as steel at bottom, and 
 her temper as often blazes out rightly as wrongly. I like people 
 with temper. I am glad you saw her, for you know it is not 
 
 1 The landlady of Mr. Bamett's lodgings, who remained our friend, 
 and later our pensioner, until her death in 1911. 
 
60 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 only young stockbrokers' hearts that j'ou win. I shall have a 
 museum whereui to put the hearts my wife captures. I hope 
 the museum may be my heart and that all those who love her 
 will love me. . . 
 
 Lucerne, Jv.ly Vlili, 1872. — The great treat of yesterday was 
 an hour of the organ in the cathedral. The organ is very splen- 
 did, and it is played for visitors who pay a franc a head. There 
 is no instrument I. like so well as the organ. The church is 
 unsuitable, a wretched white-washed place with tawdry gilt 
 altars, so we shut our eyes and listened. My poor imagination 
 went halting after the sounds and into all the fancies you 
 came. Once he commenced by playing a kind of humdrum 
 tune, a kind of slow plodding beating ; gradually music gathered 
 around these prosaic sounds, they never ceased, but more and 
 more blended with poetry ; so I thought my prosaic earthlj^ life 
 would now gather round it music and joy. Then again I heard 
 two voices, both low and gently sad, one was a man's and one 
 a woman's, each seemed to be working and praying alone ; then 
 came a sound of merry-making ; the organ laughed for glee, 
 but soon in the midst of the merry shouts a crj' of pain seemed 
 to rise, the cry grew louder and deeper. I longed for the first 
 voices to answer. At last thej' did, and a sudden crash ended 
 all. The crash was strange, but may not the joy of union and 
 the power of answering the world's cry be ours, my darling ? 
 Yes, I enjoyed the music ; till I knew you, I don't think I found 
 so much pleasure in the world. 
 
 I am glad, oh so glad that your troubles have ended as they 
 have, but I am bitterly sorry that my absence has added to 
 your trials. . . I feel inclined to start at once and have already 
 told Frank that if the weather does not clear we will start home 
 to-morrow. . . I have thought it well that I should have 
 taken this trip, something says "It was good for Alice and good 
 for Frank," but then again something says "It was selfish, very 
 
 selfish to leave Y alone in her trials, and unfair to yourself." 
 
 I don't know, but it shall not be so again. 
 
 This resolution was kept, and for the rest of his life we 
 together met our difficulties and shared our sorrows ; until 
 thirty-eight years later the condition of his health compelled 
 me to keep the greatest of coming changes from his know- 
 ledge. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 " We can hope to see this man and this woman growing daily by one 
 another's strength. We can by ho'pe see them in their home, drawing all men 
 to the ways oj love, and by their work making the world gladder and holier." 
 
 Our betrothal gave unqualified pleasure to Mr. Barnett's 
 parents and family, and Miss Octavia's letter written on 
 the day after our engagement expresses her beautiful mind, 
 and her deep friendship for us both : 
 
 14, Nottingham Place, June 25th, 1872. 
 
 Deae Mk. Baenbtt, — How can we ever any of us thank God enough ? 
 He gathers us all in the hoUow of His hand and takes care of us. How 
 one seems to see in this an earnest of the mighty blessings He will pour 
 upon you both in the long glad years to come, which one seems to see 
 before one in a vision. Not their exact form, of course — for how little 
 that matters ? — but something of their spuit, something of their power, 
 something of their growth. 
 
 You will imagine how I have been praying for you both, all day long, 
 first that what was really right might be, that all that was unreal might be 
 subdued, and the strong great truth alone prevail. At first I dare not 
 pray or hope for anything that might seem to me best, but after a time 
 I seemed to know that I was not mistaken about what was best, and that 
 it was all safe and sure of fulfilment, and I hardlji- seemed to need to open 
 your letter, it aU seemed so sure. What it did most for me, therefore, 
 was to make me feel your kindness in letting me in to share a little of 
 your jo}' ; it is very good of you both. Henceforward one may feel that 
 what you do she does, and what she does you do. And this letter in the 
 same way is for you both. 
 
 I should like to have been " kind and helpful " to you both, but I have 
 felt on the contrary, as everyone must at such times, so utterly helpless ; 
 iu fact, one is terrified to say or not to say, to do or not to do anything ; 
 no human power, no human love seems great enough to meddle, it can even 
 at its best only stand aside in reverent sympathy and prayer, trusting that 
 God's mighty truth will prevail in its own good time. But the days may 
 come when a friend may be able to be more, and then you may both know 
 that while I live I never could fail you. 
 
 What your help has been to me no one will ever know. I believe it will 
 be even more in the years to come, for whatever makes you both better — 
 — as your love must — will make me richer. So, you see, my joy in the 
 evening's news becomes real selfish joy after all. 
 
 And now I can but say once more, God bless you both, — I am sure He 
 will and does abundantly. I am, yours ever faithfully, 
 
 Octavia Hill. 
 61 
 
62 GEORGE MACDONALD 
 
 After my sister's marriage and Mr. Barnett's return from 
 his hoKday, Miss Octavia went away, leaving us responsible 
 for much of her organisation. It was the season when 
 everyone was out of town, and, therefore, without inter- 
 ruptions, we carried on the work, and in quietness saw much 
 of each other. We visited all sorts of places together, spent 
 long days on the river, and hung about museums ; but what 
 is still vividly in my memory is his interest in seeing the 
 works of the old masters, hitherto to him an unknown source 
 of joy. His family neither knew nor cared about art, and 
 he, imagining that his colour-bUndness would put pictures 
 outside his powers of appreciation, had paid but scant 
 attention to them. To me, therefore, fell the privilege of 
 introducing him to the masterpieces in our national collec- 
 tions, and of hearing his fresh thoughts on them. Stripped 
 of the subtle and distracting influences of colour, he went 
 direct into the spirit of the artist, and was starthng in his 
 discernment and interpretation. During the forty years 
 of our married life we saw together the greatest pictures 
 of aU nations, both ancient and modern, and though, with 
 the humility of his nature which no success ever tarnished, 
 he continued to assert that I was his teacher in art, he yet 
 never failed, by his words, his questions, or his silences, 
 to throw illumination on to the subject or to discern ideas 
 below the surface of the form. 
 
 We did not announce our engagement in The Times, or 
 talk much about it. I think we both felt that it had been 
 reached through too much pain to bear the stereotyped 
 hopes and congratulations of acquaintances, but the 
 omission gave rise to a dehcious incident. We were guests 
 at one of Mr. and Mrs. George Macdonald's large parties ; 
 one of those unique parties given by that unique family, 
 where they acted for their guests in the garden, and by 
 their play unaffectedly taught the people to pray and 
 praise. It was a gay, glad party ; and the Scotch poet, 
 looking old even then, welcomed us all with the courtesy of 
 a large heart. Suddenly he caught sight of me, and, be- 
 lieving in matrimony for weal or woe, he conceived one of 
 those ideas which all of us, who are proud to have been 
 maiTiage-makers, hold to be inspirations. He would make 
 a match ! he knew the very man ! So, laboriously he 
 sought for Mr. Barnett in the crowd, convoyed him across 
 the lawns, and Avith graceful words presented us to each 
 other. Mr Barnett was a shockingly bad actor, but he 
 
■i 
 
 
 
MISS OCTAVIA HILL 63 
 
 caught the cue, and we ceremomously bowed and let the 
 dear old man enjoy the thought, when later he heard of 
 our marriage, that he had played an important part in our 
 hfe's drama. 
 
 To us both. Miss Octavia was an exhaustless fount of 
 interest and inspiration. Mr. Barnett felt it an honour to 
 serve her, though his inabihty to recognise his own power 
 made him bhnd as to its value to her. The following 
 letter will explain what is meant ; 
 
 August 1872. — I liave just left Miss Hill, and write to you 
 because I feel so utterly helpless. She told me of all the troubles 
 of the moment, makmg no attempt to hide or check her tears, 
 and I had to listen, imable to help, unable even to comfort. 
 . . Save that I listened while she talked herself out, I gave 
 no help. . . I wonder if when more of you is in me, whether 
 1 shall be better able to say what "will strengthen Miss Hill. At 
 present I feel that she is so much higher than I, that it would 
 be absurd for me to do any more than let her feel that there is 
 nothing I would not do for her. I could not say firmly which 
 course I thought rights — I could only cheer her by telling her 
 that God would care for her either way. No, it is a time when 
 one can just pray and wait. . . 
 
 Her rehance on his character is shown by the following 
 extracts from letters which she wrote to friends — the first 
 just after our marriage. 
 
 1873. — Mr. Young and I are like the people in the parable, he said the 
 parish and he would go to the dogs together, T,hen Mr. Barnett left, and 
 yet he is doing his best manfully. I was so brave to begin with, and now I 
 have a hard fight for hope enough to get through a day. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Barnett return on Tuesday, but I would not for the world that they saw 
 it, for it would darken their bright entrance into their new life. 
 
 July 8th, 1873. — Mr. Barnett was kind enough to come last night to do 
 the Vv'almer Street books. It was the first time I had really had any talk 
 to him since I came back ; it did me a great deal of good, as it always does. 
 
 1883. — I am trying to build twenty-two more cottages opening from 
 little open square, and the Metropolitan Board call it a new street ! Mr. 
 Barnett piloted me so splendidly through my last dQemma. I look on him 
 rather like a wizard, and would like to ask him about a new spell ! 
 
 As those ever do, who are born to lead, this wonderful 
 lady took infinite pains with her workers and spurred them 
 by generous recognition to still fresh efforts. On receipt 
 of a report of some work for which Miss Octavia had left 
 me responsible, she wrote to me as follows in September : 
 
64 LETTERS, 1872 
 
 September, 1872. — ^Deaeest Yetta, — What a charming letter ! and, 
 in spite of the notes of interrogation, it does not seem to me to want 
 much answering. That is something like working to have found out the 
 needs of the work, planned it all, written down the plan ! 
 
 But you have gone a step beyond it and told me of the people, of their 
 thoughts and characters. Oh ! when I see you doing work like this, it 
 fills me with hope and thankfulness. The detads of the plan seem to me 
 admirable ; this settlement of them is just what the work wanted. I 
 wonder if there is the smallest hope of anyone taking the work up as entirely 
 as you have done when I return, instead of my doing it. 
 
 AU you say about the many ladies you have workiiig with you is full of 
 interest to me. What a winter I look forward to among them all ! . . . 
 I have written to ask Miss Cons about your health. I think she is more 
 sure to speak clearly about it. I do trust that you are indeed better now. 
 
 In October I went on a visit at Nottingham to my valued 
 friends, Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Bradley. Mr. Barnett's 
 daily letters to me during that happy period were chiefly 
 on work, but through some of them ghmpses can be seen 
 of his deep and tender nature. 
 
 October 4iih, 1872. — I am having another such a busy day, 
 hardly time to think of anything. There is now ten minutes 
 for refreshment, and I take it with you. . . I don't dare to 
 expect a letter every morning, but my heart gives a little jump 
 if Sarah brings one in. . . Don't let writing interfere with 
 your pleasures. I won't look onwards for to-morrow's letter, 
 but just be content with to-day's. Enjoy yourself. . . 
 
 Later. — I am home agam and it is 5.20. I am tired, dog 
 tired, and very envious of the sleepy little animal who is one 
 day to sit on our hearthrug and be petted by you. I just now 
 wish you were here, and then I would lie on the rug and listen 
 to you. There is a selfish hope, a hope for a time when I am 
 to sit still and bask in love. I have been thinking that the 
 bachelor's life makes one very selfish, very little considerate 
 for the little wants of others. 
 
 October 8t7i, 1872. — Your problem is a difficult one. If your 
 dislike of the man depends only on knowledge of what was 
 wrong in his past, it must, I think, be wrong. . . Yes, it cer- 
 tainly would have an effect if women made themselves judges, 
 but who is vdthout sin to cast the first stone ? We can't set 
 ourselves up as judges, we can't make ourselves gods, we can't 
 refuse to have mercy when we expect mercy. No, it is the 
 present we must hate ; but when the wicked man turneth 
 awajr from his wickedness, we dare not refuse to forgive. Here 
 again I shall learn more when my life is filled up by your hfe, 
 when for us both God is our home. . . 
 
LETTERS, 1872 65 
 
 There is no fear of our wanting questions to discuss, only 
 please don't expect me to be Mr. Casaubon and know all about 
 the rights of war, etc. I ■will only be a constitutional king and 
 represent joui opinions and my ov.-n. . . Your description 
 of the four daj^s' tour in the Peak district makes one's mouth 
 water. I must get away now and then for such a time, or my 
 work won't be valuable. Life m nature and life in humanity 
 must be our stimulus. This dull romid of work is depressing, 
 and I miss you — miss the talks and miss the thoughts. 
 
 October lOth, 1872. — Your letter came so sweetly this morn- 
 ing. I was feeling desperately cross and bad-tempered, when 
 I opened it and met the love of which it was full. I was self- 
 convinced of ingratitude and am penitent. I have cut school, 
 and am crating to you before the bother of the day begins. I 
 envy you your Sunday ; mine did not much help me. The 
 noise of the children at service, the repose of the afternoon 
 congregation, the deadness of the evening, simply wearied 
 me. . . 
 
 I have been thinking of what you said of life in country 
 to'U'ns. Truly that is the best form of life ; in such close inter- 
 course Avith nature we ought to live, j'et against such form there 
 is a strong feeUng. Young men fly to London, so that they 
 may be alone, freed from the criticism and scandal of neigh- 
 bours ; they come here and forget that the family is, and must 
 be, the unit of society. 
 
 I don't like pet dogs. First, they take up love which belongs 
 to higher creatures ; second, they take up food which would 
 feed a child ; third, they carry iieas ; fourth, they smell ; fifth, 
 they bite visitors' legs ; sixth, thej' are in the wrong place as 
 pets. A dog to do work I admire ; a dog to be petted I hate. 
 I don't wonder at the deep cmses of the poor when they see 
 them ; they are signs of careless cruelty. Do you think love, 
 tender feeling should ever take expression verj' quickly ? I 
 am inclined to think that feeling and thought should be re- 
 strained till it gains power or dies. This is d propos of pets, 
 ^'^'omen feel their hearts soften towards some little animal, at 
 once they take it ; so doing, don't you think they weaken the 
 power of love, make it less strong to do great work ? 
 
 October lAth, 1872. — Christ, you say, never gave a command 
 about the marriage state. Christ did not come to give com- 
 mands, but to infuse a spirit. From Him comes the life which 
 alone makes marriage possible. He is the source of loving 
 service. We know marriage, to Him, was a good and holy 
 thing, for did He not speak of Himself as a bridegroom and 
 His people as the bride ? 
 
 Thank you for the flowers which came yesterday. How 
 often signs say more than words. Flowers picked and sent by 
 
66 REFUSAL OF COUNTRY LIVING 
 
 you had their own tale of care and love. Words won't carry the 
 spu-it's thoughts. That is why angels have not forms and voices. 
 
 October I8th, 1872. — It is no good for you to remain ill. Get 
 well at once and be content with the old ugly face, and crooked 
 legs. What do you mean by saying it is a good thing I am 
 thrown back on the old lot ? as if I had not deliberately and 
 joyously chosen the new lot mth the little woman. 
 
 Now in revenge I am going to make you jealous. Someone 
 has sent me something, something beautiful and sweet, which 
 whispers of loving care. I think I know who it is : it is a 
 woman, young, pretty, and clever. There, what do you think 
 of that, " sly boots " ? Well, I will tell you something more. 
 I am very fond of that young woman, and I wish I could tell 
 her so, but I can't — a million pounds of sweets, chocolates, and 
 brandy balls would not express it. Flowers would not tell it, 
 onlj' one thing can and will tell, tell of love, and that is a life. 
 This told the world of God's love. Oh, child, I do hope my 
 life will tell of my love. I will try that it may — now I often think 
 I am old, dull and morose, and I feel I pain you. Let it not be, 
 but believe through languid looks and stupid words that I am 
 j'ours, all yours. 
 
 Now good night. I have had another bachelor's dinner. 
 Good-bye to them ; they have been quiet and pleasant. Good- 
 bye, though, my eyes are fixed on other dinners, quieter and 
 pleasanter, when my wife and I shall eat together. 
 
 In the autumn of that year Mr. Barnett had the offer 
 of a living near Oxford. He was tempted, for he dearly loved 
 Oxford, and his frequent attacks of unaccountable fatigue 
 made him turn with longing to the quiet regularity of a 
 country life. In one of his earlier letters to me he had writte : 
 
 August 9th, 187L — How delightful it must be near the sea 
 in this weather ! One feels the temptation to country life very 
 strong. The same sun which makes the coimtry so bright, 
 makes London more unlovely ; the people are bad-tempered, 
 and very often drunk — living as they do, who can wonder ? 
 The temptation to run away must be resisted. 
 
 Under the strain of sorrows and anxieties I had become 
 stubbornly weak, and my family, strongly opposing the 
 idea we had each cherished so long of going to East London, 
 were unanimous in advocating the acceptance of this oppor- 
 tunity of our living in the country. But we agreed to 
 refuse the offer, and Miss Octavia wrote : 
 
VIEWS ON ILL HEALTH G7 
 
 14:, NoTTrNQHAM Plaob, W., September 25th, 1872. 
 
 Dear Mr. Barnett, — Yetta has just written to tell me of the offer of 
 the living near Oxford, and 3 our refusal of it. She asks me to write to 
 you about it, and she must linow best ; but I cannot think tliat any 
 words of mine could be of the least value to you who see so clearly and 
 judge so rightly. . . 
 
 But indeed I should have been strongly tempted to rush iato warm 
 congratulations on your refusal. I feel so proudly thankful of and for you 
 both for your decision. It seems to me so wholly right. And it is so very 
 difficult to decide against a definite proposal of this kind. Many would be 
 quite right to take the easier course ; but for one to whom the greater work 
 had become once distinctly visible the choice of the lesser would be, to my 
 mind, simply fatal. And yet I know how the mere fact of its possibility 
 seems to make it look as if it were permitted and intended. I am so very 
 thankful 3'ou both stood firm. Of course I knew it would be so with both 
 of you ; still, it seems to have given your purpose such a groundwork to 
 stand on. You have now done something more than picture it ; you have 
 paved the way on which you will tread, . , 
 
 As to dear Yetta's health and strength. I believe its future wiU be very 
 much in her own hands and yours. I do not think that the East End is 
 at all necessarily unhealthy. I do not think there is anj' parish so small, 
 or any hfe so narrow, but that, with her nature and heart, she might 
 easily spend, yes, even readily exhaust, all the strength she has. Her 
 safeguard wiU. be by no means in seeking remote places — passion and pain 
 enough are found everywhere ; it wiU lie in noble self-control. She must 
 gain this by infinite trust that God doth not need man's works, though He 
 lets us help Him to the extent of the power He gives ; and, secondly, in the 
 added sense of preciousness which her otto life and vigour wiU gain, the 
 more she is surrounded by love. She will feel that all external work, 
 whether material or spiritual, must be done, and done well ; but that what 
 human beings can be is often aU the best thing they can do. So your love, 
 and all your practical -iidsdom too, and deliberate choice of what is worth 
 while, will be her great protection, and though you wiU, I know, never 
 selfishly spare her when the need is greatest, you will never let her waste 
 herself in hopelessly gigantic labours. 
 
 I am, faithfully yours, 
 
 O OTA VIA HnxL. 
 
 Is an apology owed for inserting this letter ? I think 
 not, for it not only illustrates the wealth of that great 
 woman's friendship, but it describes with prophetic insight 
 the nature of my husband's protection over me. All my 
 life I have had uncertain health, so good, so bad ; like a 
 child rapidly very Ul, and, as he used to say, Kke "Mother 
 Hubbard's dog " so unexpectedly recovering ; and these 
 quick disorders alternated as I grew into middle hfe, with 
 severe and prolonged periods of nerve failm^e, and many 
 attacks of pneumonia. 
 
 In his younger days Mr. Barnett both dishked and dis- 
 approved of illness. He held the view of the author of 
 
68 OFFER OF ST. JUDE'S, WHITECHAPEL 
 
 Erewhon, that it was something of which to be ashamed, 
 arising chiefly from some form of ignorance or neglect of 
 law. So, during our early married life, I was made to feel 
 I was naughty if I had a cold, and had aimoyed him if 
 feminine latigue prevented plans being carried out. But 
 as years went on and his own illnesses taught him that 
 AviU could not always triumph, his penetrating sympathy 
 enabled him to see deeper than the symptoms, and to tend 
 and advise vnth the judgment that commands and the 
 hope that heals. One adage he hked quoting : 
 " When ill, tuck up ; when better, buck up." 
 It was not Miss Octavia's method only to advise, and so, 
 as Mr. Barnett had refused the Oxford hving, and we were 
 determined to go to East London, she set to work to get 
 us there. She wrote to Mr. Edmund HoUond who had 
 followed the steps of Mr. Edward Denison, who in 1869 had 
 gone to live as a layman in Stepney. Dr. Jackson was then 
 Bishop of London, and when the hving of St. Jude's, White- 
 chapel, fell vacant, Mr. Edmund HoUond asked that it should 
 be offered to Mr. Barnett, who would then marry a lady who 
 had long wished to take up work inEast London. 
 
 The Bishop's letter to Mr. Barnett was kind and fatherly, 
 the letter of a general sending a young captain to a difficult 
 outpost. 
 
 Do not hurrj' in your decision — he wrote, — it is the worst parish in 
 my diocese, mhabited mainly by a criminal population, and one which 
 has, I fear, been much corrupted b}- doles. 
 
 We did not hurry, but made careful inquiries before 
 deciding. The census returns of 1871 showed that the 
 population of the parish was 6,270 (of whom the majority 
 were males) inhabiting 675 houses, many of which were 
 common lodging-houses. Through the parish ran one large 
 street ; and behind it, both east and west, lay croAvded 
 and insanitary courts and alleys. The church was a brick 
 building with stone copings. The bricks were common and 
 begrimed with dirt ; the stone copings were crumbling and 
 some had fallen. 
 
 Inside, huge galleries blocked the Avindows and extended 
 half across the chu.rch, A\'hich Avas not only dark and dirty, 
 but unAvarmed. It was a cheap structure, built by cheap 
 thought and in cheap material, and Avas insured for only 
 £5,300. 
 
 The Vicarage stood close to the road. It was small 
 
The windows of the homes of five families. 
 
 A couKT IN Whitechapel and some of its 
 
 CHILDREN INHABITANTS. 
 
 I. 68] 
 
ACCEPTANCE OF THE CHARGE 69 
 
 and dark, with an underground kitchen, but no area steps, 
 and had neither pantry nor bath-room. Frank Barnett 
 wrote : 
 
 I often think of you going to that Vicarage, which, according to the 
 Governor's account, must be very unattractive. . . I am afraid you wil] 
 miss your friends, and there will be no neighbours to take their place. 
 
 The parish organisation was non-existent, having been 
 allowed to di'op into ruin during the long illness of the vicar, 
 and the accounts, such as they were, showed more deficits 
 than balances. 
 
 When Mr. Barnett and I went to see our proposed home, 
 it was one of those warm \vlnter days when drizzle seems 
 to magnify the noise and make sunsliine a distant memory. 
 It was market day, and the main street was filled with hay- 
 carts, entangled among which were droves of frightened 
 cattle being chiven to the slaughter-houses — then and now 
 sights to shock the sensitive and encourage vegetarianism. 
 The people were dirty and bedraggled, the children neg- 
 lected, the streets littered and ill-kept, the beer-shops full, 
 the schools shut up. I can recall the realisation of the 
 immensity of our task, the fear of failure to reach or help 
 those crowds of people, with vice and woe and lawlessness 
 written across their faces, and how, when we got outside 
 the vicarage and were alone in the street, standing opposite 
 the church, came his touch on my hand and his question, 
 
 " Well, which way shall we decide 1 " adding his special 
 pet name, and my reply, as I linked my arm into his, 
 
 " Let us try it ; but we may fail." 
 
 At Christmas we went to stay at Mr. Barnett's home at 
 Clifton. His uncle George was there, one of the sons of the 
 old grandfather whose ships he had commanded for many 
 voyages to and from Australia. He was an amusing com- 
 panion and an excellent actor, and the Christmastide was 
 a gay glad one, with its family gatherings, long country 
 rides and drives, charades and dances, feasting and frohc ; 
 my weary fiance taking physical rest in his mother's home 
 as he did nowhere else. 
 
 On our return to town, we both had much to do to con- 
 clude our work in St. Mary's, to pay farewells to the many 
 people we had worked with or for, and to receive good wishes 
 of all sorts. Above them all stands out a letter from Miss 
 Octavia, which is here given so that other yormg folk begin- 
 ning hfe Avita love can take her words unto themselves. 
 
70 HOPES FOR THE NEW LIFE 
 
 14, NoTTiNaHAM Place, W., January 3rd, 1873. 
 
 Deabest Yetta, — I seem somehow never to have told you, though the 
 thought never leaves me hardly, how earnestly and hopefully I long for 
 all blessings for you in this wonderful opening year. . . 
 
 But, oh ! dear, how poor all words seem to convey even any fraction of 
 the love and hope that gather round the thought of you. One feels as 
 if some words of blessing and of prophecy, such as the old utter sometimes 
 for the young, would be the fittest words that go bej'ond the individual 
 sight to what must be — by the eternal laws of God — in store for you in the 
 time to come. . . Life seems as if it were opening out for you, with such 
 capacities for mighty good, for so much suiiering for others to be borne, 
 such a foundation of love and strength to support and guide you through it. 
 It aU looks so mysterious in its infinity of joy and pain, but all lighted into 
 clearest certainty by the consciousness that, as it was in the beginning, 
 is now, and so it ever shall be in the years to come. . . 
 
 Oh ! Yetta dear, what vistas of joy seem to be opening before you in 
 that new home which, without associations, seems alread}' home-like, so 
 has it grown out of all which makes a home — and the might of such a love 
 as unites you two would make home anywhere. Work seems very beauti- 
 ful ; but, after all, its real end would be best achieved if it could make 
 such homes, such families as yours will be, holy and happy in themselves, 
 but satisfied with no holiness of joy for itself, but subordinatmg aU to 
 the service of Christ's children. 
 
 It is one more of those marvellous sacrifices which have to be made 
 continually, but which have to be made only in will, for God's best service 
 demands that, though we are ready to resign the good thing, it should 
 after all be retained for Him and His children to rejoice in. Thus it is for 
 all of us with joy, with power, with many a precious thing. We give it up, 
 and when years, perhaps, are gone, we find itself or some more precious gift 
 our own for ever. Hold, Yetta dear, all joy thus ever as a solemn trust 
 to be your crown for others to glory in, to bless them all with. . . 
 
 Joy is indeed His great gift. Held from Him it is quite eternal and never 
 changes or grows dim. . . It may indeed run side by side with sorrow ; 
 yours will have even now to do this in that terrible East End ; but darling, 
 I trust that all you have of human blessing and of heavenly hope rany so 
 help you to pass through the shows of things as to grasp the peace, if not 
 the joy, which passeth all understanding. 
 
 I am, ever your faithful friend, 
 
 OcTAViA Hill. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 When a man and a looman made one, hound logcthe.r by perject love strong 
 in the strenc/th ivhich each supplies, devote their common lije to the service of 
 all men, then doubt will grow iveaher, joy come nearer the earth, and evil 
 lose some of its power." 
 
 Tuesday, January 28th, 1873, was our wedding day. The 
 weather was cold, but the sun shone. Mr. Barnett's two 
 close friends, the Rector and Mr. Young, and my brother 
 conducted the service in St. Mary's Church. In spite of 
 my family's remonstrances, I neither had bridesmaids, jewels, 
 nor the conventional bouquet, but as we left the church a 
 tiny child toddled out of a group of httle scholars from a 
 school in Walmer Street which my husband had carried on, 
 and gave me a beautiful bunch of flowers bought by their 
 pennies, a tender tribute to his work. Of our marriage Miss 
 Miranda HiU wrote : 
 
 Did I tell you that Mr. Barnett, the curate who has worked with Octavia 
 so admirably in St. Mary's, has just married Siiss Henrietta Rowland, one 
 of Octavia's best workers '! And nov/ they are going to live and work in 
 the East End ! Octavia thinks it is such a splendid thing to have such a 
 ma.n at work do-mi there — she thinks it quite a nucleus of fresh life ; and 
 Mrs. Barnett, of whom Octavia is very fond, is admirably fitted for the 
 work too. The wedding was very touching — the Church was crowded 
 with poor people ; even the galleries were filled with them. 
 
 The wedding was from the house of my sister and Mr. 
 Ernest Hart, who with their usual generosity welcomed 
 Mr. Barnett's friends as well as his and my famiUes. Of 
 it Mrs. Hill wrote to her daughter Mrs. Maurice : 
 
 The Bametts' wedding was a very beautiful one. The Church was full. 
 All Walmer Street,^ Circus Street, and Barrett's Court were there. The 
 presents were shown in the drawing-room, aU beautiful and touching. 
 Mr. Fremantle made a most deUghtful speech at the breakfast. The 
 
 1 Vv'ahner Street was where Mr. Barnett held his club and the little 
 school. Circus Street was my district, and it was in Barrett's Court 
 that I had spent three nights a week in night schools. 
 
 71 
 
72 WEDDING DAY 
 
 breakfast was, Octavia says, " magnificent, regardless of expense, but 
 beautiful." They drank from the loving-cup — rthich was an immense 
 gilt bowl. Whoever drinks, chrinks standing and those on each side stand 
 also while he drinks ; the custom arose, they say, to guard from assassina- 
 tion. 
 
 The bride looked lovely in magnificent white silk or satin, Ocky does 
 not know which, rich but simple, and a long white lace veil. She was pale, 
 with a flush added, kept up throughout in the best spirits, and was very 
 sweet. Mr. Bamett kept introducing people to Ocky, and on leaving, he 
 andMrs.Bamett gave her a present,! don't know what.'- Ocky looked her 
 handsomest and best self. She wore her blaek silk and a half-mourning 
 bonnet, remarkably becoming. She was bright, and on her return amused 
 us much at dinner by anecdotes. She sat at breakfast next to Mr. 
 Fremantle. The bridal two left town at half-past four and were to stop at 
 Winchester en route for the Isle of Wight. Mr. Young has given a desk 
 exactly like that in his own room as " a reminder of old days," and the 
 presents are all of that sort shomng genuine feeling. 
 
 Miss Octavia' s gift was a picture of primroses in a bare 
 spring wood, painted by ]\Irs. Harrison of the old Water- 
 Colour Society. In sending it she wrote : 
 
 14, Nottingham Place, W,, January 24d,h, 1873. 
 
 Deakest Yetta, — I send a small gift for the new house for you both. 
 I thought it would bring thoughts of life and spring-time to the East End. 
 But all that makes spring blessed, life and loveliness, sense of growth, and 
 of sunlight from above, and all the mystery of the future Ufe hidden in the 
 folded buds of the present — all this you take with you in yourselves to 
 that dear and wonderful new home. May spring in this sense be with 
 you both, not only now in the opening life, but on and on eternally, 
 lighting 3'ou through the long years and beyond them. 
 
 I am, ever faithfully yours, Octavia Hill. 
 
 We had five weeks away and spent most of it visiting 
 carefully the cathedrals of Winchester, Sahsbury, and 
 Exeter. We rode a good deal, but the weather was iDitterly 
 cold, and I recall many days indoors at the hotels when 
 my husband read aloud to me Maurice's lectures on the 
 Epistles, Lecky's History of Rationalism, and — note-book 
 in hand — stiff treatises on Pohtical Economy, for his mind 
 was so constituted that he was not happy unless he gave 
 it daily gymnastic effort. After a Aveek spent at Chfton 
 with his parents, and carrying away a hundred reminders 
 of his mother's love, we returned to London and entered 
 into work at St. Jude's, Whitechapel, on March 6th, 1873. 
 
 Entered into work, but not into the Vicarage, for, owing 
 to a long iUness, the previous Vicar had not vacated the 
 
 1 It interests ma very much that Miss Octavia did not tell her family 
 of our wedding gift to her. It was a diamond ring, one of those I had 
 inherited, and rich with associations. She never wore it, and I fear 
 disapproved of it, as she did not mention it to her family. 
 
ST. JUDE'S PAEISH 73 
 
 house. Until it was ready we lived in small and frugal 
 lodgings in Eldon Street, Finsbury, then dominated by the 
 unceasing noise of the Goods station of the Great Eastern 
 Railway. Day after day, evening after evening, we 
 traversed the terrible courts lying between the parish and 
 our rooms, returning exhausted by the work, but even 
 more by fresh knowledge of the degradation of the people. 
 Those dingy lodgings were, however, the background of a 
 smaU incident which illustrates my husband's nature. His 
 bad digestion had made him particular, not to say faddy, 
 over his diet, but rice pudding he both hked and felt to 
 be wholesome, and so rice pudding was specially ordered 
 for his sole supper dish after a long Sunday's work. 
 
 " I am sorry, sir," said the grim landlady, " but a mouse 
 has drowned itself in your i-ice pudding. We have such a 
 lot of 'em." 
 
 " Poor little mouse," was ah. the hungry young Vicar 
 said, while I felt angry with the incompetent woman who 
 had neglected to set traps or put a cover on her lodger's 
 pudding. But the annoyance had to be choked down, for 
 he would say : 
 
 " I would rather bear any discomfort than have you 
 vexed." 
 
 StUl, one knew that righteousness often demanded some- 
 thing stronger than the meek acquiescence with which he 
 bore every dehnquency when it aiJected himself. 
 
 It has required a great effort of memory, besides talks 
 with those who knew St. Jude's parish in 1873, to enable 
 me to describe it as it then was. Its area was but a few 
 acres, bounded on the west by the city and on the south by 
 Whitechapel High Street, where some forty keepers of 
 small shops Uved with their famihes. They were his 
 parishioners, as were also the lessees of the large ware- 
 houses which stood on both sides of Commercial Street. 
 There were two or three narrow streets hned with fairly 
 decent cottages occupied entirely by Jews, but, with these 
 exceptions, the whole parish was covered with a network 
 of courts and alleys. None of these courts had roads. In 
 some the houses were three storeys high and hardly six 
 feet apart, the sanitary accommodation being pits in the 
 cellars ; in other courts the houses were lower, wooden 
 and dilapidated, a standpipe at the end providing the 
 only water. Each chamber was the home of a family 
 who sometimes owned their indescribable furniture, but 
 
 1—7 
 
74 RE-OPENING OF THE CHURCH 
 
 in most cases the rooms were let out furnished for eight- 
 pence a night, a bad system which lent itself to every form 
 of evil. In many instances broken windows had been 
 repaired with paper and rags, the banisters had been used 
 for firewood, and the paper hung from the walls which were 
 the residence of countless vermin. In these homes people 
 lived in whom it was hard to see the hkeness of the Divine. 
 If the men worked at aU it was as casual dock labourers, 
 enjoying the sense of gambhng which the uncertainty of 
 obtaining work gave. But usually they did not work ; 
 thej^ stole or received stolen goods, they hawked, begged, 
 cadged, hved on each other with generous indiscrimination, 
 drank, gambled, fought, and when they became too well 
 laiown to the pohce, moved on to another neighbourhood. 
 In the report of an estate agent, who was employed the 
 following year by Miss Octavia to visit some of the property 
 with a view to purchase, occur these words : 
 
 Angel Alley is in a very dilapidated condition, quite wrecks of houses. 
 It had been sometime a den of wild Irish, but a part of it now is used as 
 stables, and the rest the deputy landlord farms out in what he terms 
 " furnished rooms." He complains of a neighbouring court as being the 
 very dens of the worst of characters which injures him in letting to a better 
 class of people, those who are either a little above the common lodging- 
 house class or who don't like the lodging-house restrictions. He told me 
 of another alley where the people had lived many years without paying 
 rent, for the landlord had deserted them through fear and never being 
 able to get any money. Such was the danger and difficulty of collecting 
 that his wife was then suffering from an Irish attack of poker and broom- 
 stick. I saw some of the people, and a more hideous collection of heads 
 and more horrible-looking rooms it would be impossible to conceive. 
 
 In the centre of this population stood St. Jude's Church 
 and schools, both empty and unused. To create the 
 machinery through which the knowledge of God and the 
 ordering of human hfe could reach those for whose " cure 
 of souls " my husband was responsible, was the first duty, 
 and we lost no time. Now, after years of experience, I 
 think it would have been better to have had the Church 
 warmed, Ut, and cleaned before recalling the people to 
 worship, but then we thought differently, and well do I 
 remember the first Sunday. Six or seven old women, aU 
 expecting doles for attending, made the congregation. The 
 newly-engaged organist played on the damp-damaged 
 organ, and I, who never could sing a note in tune, had to 
 lead the singing ! 
 
 The work was difficult and hard and the progress was 
 

 o 
 
 5 H 
 
 « 
 1 rrj 
 
 P5 5 ,^ ,fe H 
 
STARTING PARISH MACHINERY 75 
 
 slow, but at the end of the first year — March 1874 — it was 
 possible to report that : 
 
 The congregation has risen to about thhty in the mornings, 
 and fifty to one hundred in the evenings ; that a children's 
 service has been started, and that a mixed choir is under 
 training ; that the schools have been opened for boys and 
 girls together, of whom 14i are on the register ; that adult 
 classes have been started in French, German, Latin, arithmetic, 
 composition, and drawing which have attracted fifty students ; 
 that a mothers' meeting has been begun, a nurse and a mission- 
 woman engaged, a girls' night school carried on, a maternity 
 society initiated, a penny bank opened, a lending librarj' organised, 
 a pension scheme inaugurated, a flower show held, concerts and 
 entertainments given, oratorios rendered in Church, lady visitors 
 set to work, and last but not least, a system of relief for the 
 poor thought out and established. 
 
 It sounds a dull catalogue of duU deeds, but behind 
 each cog of the machinery was a hving principle, regulated 
 by the flywheel of passionate desire that men should know 
 they are " brothers and loved children of God." Fre- 
 quently the parish machinery mU be spoken of, and so it 
 is well to set down in my husband's words the ideas which 
 were the " very pulse of the machine." In the first parish 
 report he said : 
 
 1S74. — The end we have in view is that everyone may know 
 God as a Father. . . Everj^ new scheme we propose, every 
 plan we carry out, does its work if it throws one gleam of light 
 on this truth. . . 
 
 By those who, knowing something of the life of Christ, know 
 what human life ought to be, the state of the people is hardly 
 to be borne. Vv^hy must their sympathies remain torpid, while 
 questions affecting thousands of their fellows are burning for 
 solution ? Why must existence be so dull when in every soul 
 a fight is raging over which God and the angels watch ? Why 
 must pleasures be the gross ones of eating and drinking, or the 
 degrading ones which involve in ruin the life of a fellow- 
 creature ? All around us are such lives being led by men and 
 women whose homes are places for sleep and not for recreation, 
 who go out wearily to work or as wearily to watch till some 
 street entertainment stirs their worn-out senses. 
 
 A few years' experience did not lower my husband's 
 ideals, for in 1877 he wrote : 
 
 If one sentence could explain the principle of our work, it is 
 that we aim at decreasing, not suffering, but sin. Too often 
 has the East End been described as if its inhabitants were 
 
76 ONE AIM AND MANY METHODS 
 
 pressed down by poverty, and every spiritual effort for its 
 reformation has been supported by means which aim only at 
 reducing aviffering. In mj^ eyes the pain which belongs to the 
 winter cold is not so terrible as the drmikenness ■with which the 
 summer heat seems to fill our streets, and the want of clothes 
 does not so loudly call for remedy as the want of raterest and 
 culture. It is sin, therefore, in its widest sense against which 
 we are here to fight. Sin in the sense of missing the best. . . 
 
 Sin must be recognised as manifold, and anything which mars 
 the grandeur of human life must be brought under a converting 
 influence. Such influences are the culture which opens to men's 
 minds the enjoyment of art and literature ; the knowledge which 
 makes the whole world alive and binds together the human 
 family by ties of common interest ; the religion which raises 
 men to " the Immanuel's land," whence they see the lives of 
 those who on earth have done the will of their Father in heaven." 
 That all such power may be brought to bear on our people, 
 the organisation of the parish has been started. 
 
 It has been difficult to select the extracts which best 
 convey Mr. Barnett's dominating thought. In the minds 
 of many people he lives as a social reformer, as an active 
 Poor Law administrator, as an ardent educationalist, but 
 he was aU these things and many more, because his one 
 never- sleeping desire was to help people to live their lives 
 in relation with God. Had we not made the, to us, momen- 
 tous decision, standing opposite St. Jude's Church that 
 day in the rain, and had his work lain in a parish where 
 conditions were normal, I doubt if his mind would have 
 turned in the directions it did. He Avould then have 
 followed the inclination of his spirit, and taught the people 
 rehgious truths. It was because they were living under 
 circumstances which precluded them from receiving such 
 truths, that he poured his whole Hfe's force into improving 
 conditions. The walls of degrading and crippUng environ- 
 ment hid from many the hght of truth. " Throw down 
 the walls," he cried. And there were some who, amioyed 
 by the dust and noise of the falling masonry, accused him 
 with hard words of being indifferent to the light, and 
 eager only to destroy boundaries. This confusion of his 
 aims for the people with his methods to obtain them 
 grieved him much, and though he never replied to attacks 
 in the Press, he took pains to explain his position to those 
 who entrusted him with money or who joined in the work. 
 
 1876 — Jlen must live on the words which proceed from the 
 mouth of God ; the words are many, and come tlirough many 
 
ATTENDANCE AT PUBLIC WORSHIP 77 
 
 channels. We have devoted our lives to the making kno^'sai of 
 those words which He seems to have tanght us. The means 
 chosen may be unusual ; we claim that they are the best fitted 
 to the end in view. . . 
 
 1879. — The Concerts and Entertainments which have given 
 so many an hour's amusement have at the same time lifted the 
 cloud of care from our neighbours' lives and sho^vn them the 
 face of One who is glad because they are glad. The Schools 
 and Classes have given to others a glimpse of the knowledge of 
 One who is perfect as they may be perfect. The Oratorio, as it 
 lifted our thoughts above the petty things of life, taught us our 
 high calling as children of a Father in heaven. Every meeting 
 which has brought two or three together and tanght them to 
 know one another has done something to break the barrier which 
 prevents all men from being brothers. 
 
 Mr. Barnett had many tilings to say about going to 
 Church, and about staying away from public worship. He 
 never asked people to come to St. Jude's, indeed liis con- 
 versation often tended to discourage them from so doing, 
 for it was so taken for granted that " the parson chap wanted 
 a feller to have a look in at his shop " that it seemed advisable 
 to state clearly that such was not his view. If the Vicar 
 called on a family, the call was returned by an attendance 
 at a service, and any action to reheve distress was similarly 
 acknowledged. To teach the people that to worship was a 
 privilege, and that prayers and praises were personal actions 
 for which men were only responsible to their Maker was 
 the first step towards reality in religious Ufe. But when 
 the parishioners understood that they were not expected 
 to go to Church to please the parson, they followed their 
 inclinations and stayed away. 
 
 1879. — Many around us suffer from the want of knowing God. 
 The difficulty of attracting such to Church haunts me. I wish the 
 law would allow me more freedom m the use of prayers, and 
 also in the use of the pulpit. . . 
 
 No way seems to exist by which the spu'itual side of people 
 can be reached. We meet as friends, but that within us which 
 reaches out to find the good, of which all other good is but the 
 shadow, is asham.ed to make itself kno'svn, and so, being forgotten, 
 often sleeps. How can people be helped to love God and to 
 trust Him ; to realise the good wfuch is not far from anyone 
 of them, and to rest in such knowledge ? 
 
 In the belief that in the crowded homes and noisy streets 
 our neighbours had no opportunity of communing with 
 
78 SMALL CONGREGATIONS 
 
 God or possessing their souls, Mr. Barnett arranged to open 
 the church every day for some hours, including the dinner 
 hour, so that " those v/ho wish to read or think or pray 
 in quietness " might come in and find peace. Over all his 
 work there ever brooded a patience that was almost a 
 passion. " He that beheveth shall not make haste " was 
 the text that he most often repeated to himself and to others. 
 To our workers he wrote : 
 
 A Gospel which makes present and future depend on good- 
 ness must by its very nature advance slowly. It is only by sad 
 experience that men can find that rest and joy have no other 
 foundations than right and love ; it is only gradually that they 
 are able to fight down the temptations which beset them, and 
 hunt every trace of selfislmess from their lives ; it is only by 
 degrees that they can gain the sense that One is near them, 
 waiting to help them, who is their Father. 
 
 Within the first two or three years of his cure at St. 
 Jude's its ugly galleries were removed, a warming apparatus 
 fixed, and the Chancel re-painted, the latter by the artistic 
 fingers of the two Miss Harrisons, who designed great panels 
 of growing corn and vines emblematic of the Holy Com- 
 munion. A Church Committee had been established, the 
 music greatly improved, the west front thoroughly repaired, 
 but the Yicar wrote : 
 
 1877. — And yet, now that all is done to the Church that I 
 hoped to do, at the Simday services it is comparatively empty. 
 . . . AVhy do the people not come ? I'.ianj' reasons are sug- 
 gested : the refusal of relief, the absence of anj' terrorism in our 
 theology, the large number of Chm-ches in comparison Mdth the 
 Gentile population are, some would say, suflfioient causes for 
 the emptiness of this Church. None of these causes, however, 
 satisfy me. Few of the East End places of worship have a 
 congregation, and we may as well face the fact that our forms 
 of service have ceased to express the religious wants of the 
 people. There is no fashion in the East as ui the West to induce 
 tlie inhabitants to appear Siuiday after Sunday in the parish 
 Church ; there is no want of occupation to make them want 
 to turn for interest to the details of Church decoration ; they 
 are therefore careless about the whole matter. I don't think the 
 neglect of Church attendance implies an absence of religious 
 feelings ; the feelings exist, but they find neither support nor 
 expression in the means of worship which have been provided. 
 
 This is a sad report to read, but it was sadder to Live 
 through those years of disappointment. Sometimes on 
 
POSSIBLE USES OF CHURCH 79 
 
 Sunday moriaings we went together to visit places of worship 
 in the hope of finding what both attracted and fed sick 
 souls, and in this way we came into touch with the first 
 efforts of the Salvation Army, and the many street preachers 
 and exponents of strange faiths or anti-faiths in Victoria 
 Park. We hstened to Canon Liddon and the forcible voices 
 of the Established Church, to Mr. Stopford Brooke from liis 
 lonely pulpit, to the great preachers of the Free Churches, 
 and heard much that was uphfting, but nothing that seemed 
 capable of transplanting into AVhitechapel for the awakening 
 and satisfaction of the spiritual natures of our neighbours. 
 
 1878. — YVe must wait and watch with open eyes and open 
 ears for the coming of the Spirit which will guide us to new 
 ways. 
 
 And wliile we waited and watched, we endured the grief 
 of impotency : 
 
 1879. — It would be hard to exaggerate the pain which we 
 suffer by reason of our faihu'e to use the Church ; whether we 
 look at the building mth its capacities, or at the people with 
 their wants. The building might be so useful, a place of rest by 
 the wajrside of life, a school whereui forgotten lessons might 
 be learnt again, a gate of Heaven in the midst of the earth. 
 The people want so much rest in their anxiety, a voice for their 
 hopes, the knowledge of themselves. It is inexpressively pain- 
 ful to the man, placed as I am, that he cannot use such a build- 
 ing for the help of such wants. Yet it is so. 
 
 And what about the sermons preached at St. Jude's, 
 preached often to empty bro^^'n benches, and rarely to more 
 than 100 to 150 people ? Always thoughtful, unhackneyed, 
 and pious, the sermons were yet hardly such as would ap- 
 peal to uncultivated minds. Mr. Barnett usually settled on 
 his subject on Mondays, and jotted down notes on it aU the 
 week. Together we discussed the sermon, and I was called 
 to hear and to criticise it in aU. the stages of its making. 
 
 " On Mondays," I used to say, " it is simple, fit for a coster ; 
 on Saturday only a philosopher could understand it." 
 
 Again and again, with his awe-inspiring humihty his 
 week's work would go into the fire, and he would begin all 
 over again. In these early days he invariably wrote his 
 sermons, but after a few years' experience and some evidence 
 of appreciation, he got more courage and spoke from his 
 notes. Sermons, however, did not seem to him to be of 
 paramount importance. 
 
80 INFLUENCE OF HIS FAITH 
 
 " We go to church to worship God and sit with our 
 Christed selves," Avas his teaching, and when he was present, 
 no one could fail to feel the influence of his fervent faith. 
 A friend wrote : 
 
 March 1915. — I like best to recall the Vicar in Church. Arms some- 
 times folded, eyes fixed and steadfast ; himself in the very presence of his 
 God, such a sure rock to him. One felt anew the inspiration of the old 
 prayers ; the something in his sermons to be applied to " the daily roimd 
 and the common tasks " of our lives ; the beautifully spoken blessing — 
 the whole of it — not half, plus two fingers — and then the quiet minutes 
 for silent prayer. Refreshing moments near to God. 
 
 Perhaps some of my readers will sympathise with, and 
 others forgive, the following outburst written by one who, 
 herself one of his workers since her pupil-teacher days, 
 feels passionately the loss of Mr. Barnett's wisdom, especi- 
 ally now when our nation is in tribulation. 
 
 Well ! it is gone ! Instead of piety we get religious observances and 
 Church mUlinery. We ask for bread and get only stones. " Ye are idle, 
 ye are idle ; work, fight, die, and be patriotic," that is all the workers get. 
 A Church apathetic to modern needs, that has never lifted up its corporate 
 voice in protest against oppression and injustice by the stronger to the 
 weaker, that has never dared to point out their duties to the rich. Is it 
 any wonder that the average congregation is a conglomeration of self- 
 satisfied ignorance and bigotry ? When the poor are goaded to make a 
 reconstruction of values, as please God they will some day, then the 
 Church may find out it has overslept itself. 
 
 How often Canon Barnett's soul must have felt sorely wounded ! 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " / want for the poor a love which will arouse love, and burn out the sus- 
 picion which gifts often create. I want for them a respect ivhich will go softly 
 before the tender flame of their faith, and cherish that sense of righteousness 
 which pity often destroys.^' 
 
 Otjr move into St. Jude's Vicarage was made in time to 
 celebrate my birthday, May 4th, in the tiny house that 
 was to be our home for twenty years, and there we were 
 joined by my sister and my nurse and foster-mother, Mrs. 
 Moore. She had always hved in my home, devoting herself 
 to the care of my sister for whom a pre-natal accident had 
 rendered devotion necessary. When Mr. Barnett had 
 agreed that we should take care of them, and I had thanked 
 him out of the fullness of my heart — for though they were 
 both very dear to me, they were a great responsibihty — 
 he had written : 
 
 I am sure I deserve no praise. Little Fannjr will be no 
 trouble, and we shall have the happiness of pleasing her. Nurse, 
 as I told you, will be required to take care of you. . . Both 
 will make the firelight of our home. 
 
 All through that summer — 1873 — amid noise, smells, 
 and degradation we worked, and then came hohday time, 
 and we went off to Switzerland. Can any pen do justice 
 to the first visit paid together to Switzerland of two young 
 people who, hitherto accustomed to the surroundings of 
 beauty and refinement, had hved for five months in the 
 Whitechapel of that day ? We went to Lucerne, walked 
 up the Rigi,and by G6schenen,over the Furka, to the Grimsel, 
 across to Meiringen, on to Lauterbrunnen, and by the 
 Wengem Alp towards home. What a good three weeks 
 we had ! We usually started at six o'clock and walked 
 till ten, then ate, rested, and walked again from four to six 
 — doing about fifteen miles a day. Oh ! the glory of those 
 morning hours, and the revelation of the hght in the 
 valleys and the shadows on the snows. My delight was 
 that which is only to be obtained at the introduction to the 
 
 81 
 
82 VISITING THE PARISHIONERS 
 
 everlasting hills, my husband's pleasure being, with his 
 sympathetic nature, the even greater one of showing to 
 his beloved the beauties in which he had so often revelled. 
 Then our talks ! Every single thing we had not agreed 
 on during all the past busy weeks we had saved up to 
 discuss on our holidays, and discuss we did, he the Pegasus, 
 ever taking wings, and I, harness in hand, trying to yoke 
 him to earthly coaches to carry travellers onward. It 
 was a lovely time, but it had to be cut short to give old 
 Mrs. Barnett her annual change at Ilfracombe, after which 
 work again claimed us and we returned to face the problems 
 of our first winter, and among them the great one of the 
 relief of the poor. 
 
 Social conditions and thought on them have changed so 
 much since 1873-9 that the subjects of the next few pages 
 may seem to be too far-off for biography and too near-by 
 for history, but as reUef and its direct and indirect influ- 
 ences occupied so much of Mr. Barnett's mind and heart, 
 his early thoughts on it should not be omitted. 
 
 During our first year in Whitechapel we both visited the 
 parishioners a great deal and many were the adventures 
 we enjoyed relating to each other, interesting, amusing, 
 pathetic, or tragic. Mr. Barnett, anxious to know and be 
 known without the cloak of his position, unearthed some 
 ancient mufti clothes, obtained lay headgear and, though 
 I burnt the blue tie, went forth as unlike a parson as 
 he could weU appear. Dehghtful were some of the tales 
 of his reception, and touching was the readiness of even 
 the poorest to share what they had with their unknown 
 visitor, whom they often took for an insurance agent, 
 though sometimes he was received otherwise if they thought 
 he was sent by the landlord, that universal terror of the 
 weekly tenant. Usually the people talked to him with the 
 utmost freedom of their affairs, responding to my husband's 
 virile though often unspoken sympathy. They rarely asked 
 him who he was, though once when his name came out, 
 after he had been pressed to join in the much appreciated 
 pleasure of the black bottle, the face of his host fell. 
 
 " Crikey," he said, " there's bust my old gel's chance of 
 getting grub out of the Church," a sentence that acted as 
 a warning if ever we were tempted to forsake our principles 
 and unite reUef and rehgion. 
 
 There were three principles underlying my husband's plans 
 for the relief of the poor. 
 
RELIEF OF TPIE POOR 83 
 
 The equal capacity of all to enjoj^ the best, the superiority of 
 quiet ways over those of striving and crjang, character as the 
 one thing needful, are the truths on which we take our stand.' 
 
 In explanation of how these principles were carried out, 
 he wrote : 
 
 1874. — The relief of the poor is a matter which I hold to be of 
 the greatest importance. Indiscriminate charity is among the 
 curses of London. To put the result of our observation in the 
 strongest form, I would say that " the j)oor starve because of 
 the alms they receive." The people of this parish live in rooms 
 the state of which is a disgrace to us as a nation. Living such 
 a life, they are constantly brought into contact with soft-hearted 
 people. Alms are given them — a shilling by one, a sixpence 
 by another, a dinner here and some clothing there ; the gift is 
 not sufficient if they are really struggling, the care is not suffi- 
 cient if they are thriftless or wicked. The effect of this charity 
 is that a state of things to make one's heart bleed is perpetuated. 
 The people never learn to work or to save, out-relief from the 
 House, or the dole of the charitable, has stood in the way of 
 providence, which God their Father would have taught them. 
 
 Our experience has this j^ear been terrible. Young men and 
 women who have spent their lives in these courts have come 
 begging ; they have never been taught to read and write, or 
 encouraged to believe that it is their duty to support them- 
 selves. When sickness overtook them it has found them un- 
 prepared ; and this is stUl going on, for kind-hearted people 
 by gifts of food and clothing are now educating another genera- 
 tion to lead this terrible life. 
 
 I wOl tell you our plan. When someone comes begging, I 
 myself see him, talk to him and send him to the Charity Organisa- 
 tion Societj', who investigate the case, not so much with a view 
 of finding out the applicant's deserts as to show us, from his 
 past life, the best means of helping him in the present. A 
 committee, composed of ilr. liicks, ilrs. Barnett, j.ii. Rowland, 
 Mr. Polj^blank, and mj^self , meet on Friday evenings, before which 
 the man is summoned to appear. Perhaps it proves to be the 
 best plan to give him efficient assistance in the shape of a sub- 
 stantial gift, or a loan ; perhaps the most hopeful way of helping 
 him wiU be by a stern refusal. In neither case does our watch- 
 ful care cease. V/hen there was been no interference we have 
 seen success attend out efforts — the family has commenced to 
 save ; the children sent to school ; the girls to service ; but 
 when visitors, no less kind, but less wise, have come hi with 
 their doles of sixpences, or their promise of help, we have seen 
 the chains of idleness, carelessness, and despair fall again aroimd 
 
 ^ Introduction to the second edition of Practicable Socialism (ilessrs, 
 Longmans, Green & Co.). 
 
84 ANGRY APPLICANTS 
 
 the family. . . Money pauperises the people ; time, given as 
 a child of God to those who, if degraded, are still our brothers, 
 ■will ennoble and strengthen them. 
 
 It seems superfluous to describe such a simple scheme as 
 this for readers to whom " case-papers," " investigations," 
 " personal service," " societies," are the recognised A.B.C. 
 of philanthropic effort, but in those days, forty-five years 
 ago, it was new and aroused a great deal of anger. The 
 people considered that alms were their right and came at 
 all hours to the Vicarage to demand money or tickets, sup- 
 porting their appeals with hes, noise, and threatened violence. 
 Sometimes after they had been refused, they would teU 
 their grievances to the passers-by, who, collecting into an 
 indignant crowd, would thunder at the door and throw things 
 at the windows, occasionally breaking even the thick glass 
 provided in the Ecclesiastical Commissioners' buildings. 
 At first there was no choice but to stand the siege until 
 the crowd dispersed, but later a door was cut from our 
 house into the Church through which the Vicar could slip 
 out to fetch the poUce. What horrible ten minutes those 
 were to me, in case he should be caught and roughly 
 handled by the poor low creatures who, many of them being 
 only nightly tenants of the " furnished rooms," knew 
 nothing of him except that he refused to give what he had 
 and they wanted. For each and all he had confident hope 
 of their ultimate righteousness, and wrote : 
 
 1875. — By actions as by words we tell men that the King- 
 dom of Heaven is within them, that all they can want will be 
 found when they have become good and pure and loving ; and 
 we tell them, too, that God who loves them is working to make 
 them all they ought to be. Lest we should interfere with that 
 working, we give nothing to those who should have provided 
 for themselves ; lest we should seem to put the body's wants 
 above those of the soul, we let no suffering tempt us so to act 
 as to make the sufferer forget that sin is terrible. 
 
 It sounds a clear principle, but living up to it was a source 
 of much pain ; the pain of seeing suffering and knowing the 
 sufferers were angry and had hearts full of hatred for us ; 
 the pain of being thought hard and callous by others who, 
 also caring for our neighbours, were working for their good ; 
 the pain of uncertainty as to the value of the virtues we 
 were trying to inculcate at the expense of kindliness and 
 gratitude ; and the pain of doubt which comes to all humble- 
 minded reformers, as to whether they, the few, can be 
 
INJUSTICE OF CARELESS RELIEF 85 
 
 right, and those, the many who differ from them, all wrong. 
 Two years after Mi-. Barnett had described the plan he 
 wrote : 
 
 1876. — ^Ye have abided by our tried plans, and our mode of 
 working is having a slight eifect on others who work in our 
 neighbourhood, but it is still very trying to see the terrible 
 spiritual and temporal harm which follows on unwise gifts. A 
 very few pence tempt the poor to make a pretence of religion, 
 and to linger on in their \vretched rooms till death overtakes 
 their hah-starved bodies. There are children who seem to 
 have been starved, because their parents have been led to trust 
 in casual help which proved to be inadequate to their needs. 
 . . . Careless gifts have been a source both of suffering and of 
 sin. 
 
 Abhorrent as was the sin of injustice to Mr. Barnett, it 
 was specially so when it affected class relations, and was 
 brought into existence by the action of wealth on poverty. 
 
 1878. — I wish charitable people could become more sensible 
 of the injustice done by unwise reUef. It is often said, it is best 
 to err on the side of giving ; seeing what I see I am disposed to say 
 it is best to err on the side of refusing. The damage to the body 
 of the applicant is less real and more distant than the damage to 
 his spirit. We cannot, however, expect to welcome a charity 
 fitting the knowledge of the present day, till money gifts cease 
 to be an insurance against the discontent of the poor, a pro- 
 pitiation for the enjoyment of luxuries, or a relief to the giver. 
 Gifts must be the expression of real and intelligent interest. 
 Far then from wishing to stand in the way of relief, I appeal for 
 more relief. . . If this East End is to be helped, it must be 
 by those Christ-like enough to give their best to those that ask. 
 
 And from the apphcants also he demanded their best. If 
 a man who was able-bodied begged, it made him indignant, 
 and if lying was added to the begging, anger was added 
 to the indignation. I recaU my surprise when one evening, 
 a conversation with an apphcant being unusuaUy prolonged, 
 I came out of the drawing-room just in time to see my small 
 hthe husband seize a much bigger man by the collar, and with 
 a firmly placed knee in his back violently eject him from the 
 house. I was shocked, perhaps as much at the deadly 
 pallor which the exertion had caused as at the loss of temper, 
 but Mr. Barnett only said, 
 
 " He lied as well as begged and deserved what he got." 
 Slowly, sternly, and with much sacrifice, the principles 
 were worked out, and by degrees the people began to 
 
86 MR. AND MES. JAMES STUART 
 
 understand something of the friendship which had prompted 
 the refusals that to them had seemed so cruel. In the 
 report of 1870 Mr. Barnett wrote to our workers : 
 
 We. would urge you very strongly never to give unless you 
 are certain that your gift will thoroughly meet the needs of the 
 applicants. 
 
 It was those words translated into action and affecting 
 the Uves of the few famiUes who were ready to make efforts 
 which acted as object-lessons, and both explained the Vicar's 
 views and stimulated by example the efforts of others 
 towards worthier attainments. 
 
 Before my memory's eye I can see James Stuart, a tall 
 gaunt man, " earning his starving," as he called it, by 
 hawking broken quartz on a barrow. He came before the 
 little Committee. 
 
 " I'm stony broke, sir, as stony and as broke as my stock. 
 People is too poor to buy mantel ornaments." 
 
 " Will you hme- whiten the cellars ? " asked my husband. 
 
 " Lime-whiten the Heavens or t'other place, if I had a 
 brush and a pail and was paid for it." 
 
 The materials were suppUed and the job executed. The 
 wife, miserably frail from semi- starvation, was about to be 
 coirfined. For her suitable arrangements were made and 
 later she was sent with the sweet httle baby for a change 
 in the country. Clothes for the two children on whom 
 attendance at school \\'as enforced were provided, and a 
 loan enabled the family to move out of their " furnished 
 rooms." Thus " thoroughly " aided, the family by its 
 industry, resourcefulness, and sohdity of character was kept 
 independent and something more. To us they became 
 real friends and trusted fellow-workers, though to some 
 Stuart's satisfaction at his independence was an offence. 
 One lady, writing of her memories of those days, said : 
 
 To create a sturdy self-helpful independence was to the Vicar a supreme 
 essential. I remember that at the death of a. Mr. Stuart, a carpenter, Mr. 
 Barnett in the pulpit the following Sunday paid a definite tribute " to the 
 man's sturdy independence." Why ! he was positively rude, but the 
 Canon could forgive that. 
 
 After Stuart's death the family left Whitechapel, the 
 daughters grew up and married, and the mother went to 
 share their homes, keeping in friendly touch with us, and 
 we visited her whenever we were near her. After her death 
 her daughter continued the correspondence, and in her last 
 
MR. AND MRS. MARSHALL 87 
 
 letter, after telling me in detail of her three sons who are 
 serving in the navy and army, and thanldng me for the gift 
 of Worship and Work, said : 
 
 1914. — What a true jihoto of our dear Canon, but I think he looks rather 
 sad. . . I can remember him so well when he first came to Whiteohapel. 
 How bright and hopeful he was, and what a great work he has done for the 
 East End of London ! Do jo\i remember now those early days ? God 
 bless you, dear, and give you strength to continue the great Fight here 
 below, and fit us all for that glorious Inheritance that is the right of the 
 Children of God. 
 
 To the old it was possible to give thoroughly so as to 
 meet their needs, and among the masterpieces in the por- 
 trait gaUery of my memory's heroes stand out some of 
 those old Whitechapel people, verily the moral aristocracy 
 of the poor. 
 
 No one could be much uglier than old Mi's. Marshall, 
 short, fat, shapeless, with smaU sunken eyes, coarse features, 
 and scanty hair, and yet old Marshall loved her with his 
 youth's and his manhood's love. 
 
 " The rats they're getting that cheeky. There's no 
 scaring of 'em," he said one day as I was standing in the 
 filthy court just outside his one-roomed home. " Last 
 night they corned on our bed. My missus, she'd been sadly- 
 hke all day, and had just dropped off, when up comes one 
 and runs about quite frisky." 
 
 " What did you do ? " I asked. 
 
 " Do ? Why, just nothink. What could I do ? If I'd 
 moved I should have woke 'er up — but I watched a bit." 
 
 I seemed to see the halo round his dirty head, and smeU 
 the holy aroma of sacrifice amid the odour of his iinwashed 
 clothes. He hawked groundsel, and, though Mving amid 
 such dreadful conditions, had thought it his duty to adopt 
 no less than four orphans, one after another, and " bring 
 them up respectable though humble," he said with pride. 
 To the question "Were they your relations?" he repMed 
 quite simply : 
 
 " No, we knew nothing of their belongings. They were 
 just deserted, poor things ! by that low lot round at the 
 ' Dosshouses,' and we couldn't let them go to the ' 'Ouse.' " 
 
 To meet the Marshalls' simple wants and aid them " thor- 
 oughly " were not beyond the powers of charity, and they 
 were delighted in being accepted as tenants in the first block 
 of new dweUings. 
 
 Mrs. Johnson was shrewd, hard-featured, shriU-voiced, 
 
88 PENSIONS TO THE OLD 
 
 thin, clean, frugal, rich in prolific descendants and proud of 
 their respectability. She had no halo, but it was a cruelty 
 that she could only obtain the help she needed by begging 
 for doles or tickets, and so she was " thoroughly " aided by 
 a regular gift ' or pension. Indeed it was our friendship 
 with a few of these admirable men and women which re- 
 sulted in the formation of the first Pension Committee, the 
 forerunner of the national scheme which prevails to-day. 
 My husband, writing about the money expended on pensions 
 in 1873, said : 
 
 The old people are thus enabled to live without begging and 
 without anxiety. . . By this means we may give rest to the 
 anxious longings of some old men and women to finish their 
 days amid the surroundings of home, and we may spread among 
 the young that reverent tenderness called out by an old age 
 spent in their midst and found in the way of righteousness. 
 The world loses more than it knows when such fives are left in 
 our workhouses to wear away in sorrowful uselessness. 
 
 And they loved us so truly, those East London friends. 
 
 Harriet Smith was a folder at a wholesale stationer's, 
 but her money troubles brought out so sensitive a nature 
 and so high a sense of duty that we advised our friend. Miss 
 Teape, to employ her as a mission woman. For years she 
 generously spent herself as she rendered, alike to good and 
 bad, clean and dirty, self-forgetful service. Once I gave 
 her a handsome ancestral jet brooch, and of course forgot 
 all about it. A few weeks after I was left alone — June 
 1913 — she came to see me at the Cloisters and brought 
 the brooch reverently treasured in wool. 
 
 " I want you to take it," she said, " in memory of our 
 Canon; it's the best thing I've got," and she added, "you 
 can wear it now." 
 
 After she was too old to continue her work Miss Teape 
 pensioned her, and though I wooed her to live in idylhc 
 surroundings in the Garden Suburb she would not leave 
 her " mothers." Last night she died in her sleep — July 19th, 
 1916. She had no illness, "only troubled by incommoding 
 breathlessness," as she had written me. As the district 
 visitor who tended her left her, she said : 
 
 " I should hke Mrs. Barnett to know that I am not very 
 well to-night, but not to trouble her, please, with my best 
 respects." 
 
 Could last words be more faithful and humble ? 
 
REV. BROOKE LAMBERT 89 
 
 The following is from a Whitechapel friend : 
 
 June 16t.h, 1915. 
 Deae Mks. Baenett, — I want you to get this letter on Thursday in 
 memory of Canon Bamett's passing. I am sure I shall never forget his 
 kindness. May God rest his dear soul in peace. Amen. 
 
 But the comparatively few who were " thoroughly 
 helped" did not compensate the hundreds who were refused 
 the doles they sought. Before we went to St. Jude's £.500 
 a year had been supphed by a West-end parish and had 
 been distributed without S3'stem. Of that period the Rev. 
 Brooke Lambert, who in the winter of 1879 took charge of 
 our parish to allow us to go to Egypt, wrote : 
 
 1880. — I thank God I have lived to see the parish of St. .Jude's in a 
 different condition from that in which I once knew it, when every winter day 
 a crowd of from 60 to 100 might be seen outside the Church door waiting 
 for those fatal tickets, which are like a rotten rope thrown to a drowning 
 man, because they create a hope, which no ticket system can ever realise, 
 and make the person who gives them think he is satisfying the needs of 
 the poor, whilst he is only increasmg their shiftless dependence. Let any 
 one follow a few cases out, instead of giving broadcast, and he will soon see 
 what it means. Let it not be thought that it is easy work to conduct 
 charity on this reformed system. It is heart-breaking work. Once this 
 winter I thought I must give it up, but, thanks to the Charity Organisation 
 without and the band of hearty workers withm, we pulled through. And 
 it is satisfactory to know that in a wmter unusually severe, and at a time 
 when depression in trade had left the poor in a very bad condition to meet 
 it {the pa^vnshops were all, I fear, f uU), there has been no case of starvation 
 in St. Jude's, Whitechapel. It is more satisfactory to know that in the 
 opinion of those best capable of judging, holiday times are much better 
 spent, and that Christmas and Easter have passed over our heads with 
 fewer of the orgies which generaUj' attend these celebrations. 
 
 It was the sense of impotency, caused by hving in the 
 midst of people whose needs, spiritual, mental, and physical, 
 ever cried for remedy, it was the knowledge that we could 
 neither woo them to worsliip God nor break down their 
 suspicion of man, that made us ready to take any step 
 that would bring us nearer to them. Among the possible 
 steps we considered that of leaving the Vicarage and hving 
 in a few rooms in Crown Court, where Mr. and Mrs. Marshall 
 hved, one of the worst of the courts where the inhabitants 
 used their OTvn furniture, but not so bad an alley as those 
 wliich were occupied only by nightly tenants. We argued 
 to each other that perhaps we should learn more of our 
 neighbours if we shared their sufferings, and that, servant- 
 less, we should reahse the disadvantages of no copper, no 
 oven, no sink, no water-tap, no lavatory, no cupboards, no 
 
 1—8 
 
90 PLAN TO LIVE IN CROWN COURT 
 
 coal-ceUar, no bath ; drunken neighbours, noisy children, 
 a common staircase, a boltless front entrance, windows 
 which could not open, doors which would not shut, and 
 partitions which admitted every sound. I was very keen to 
 do it, but with what I now recognise to have been deeper 
 wisdom, Mr. Barnett felt that, however steadfastly we kept 
 to our self-imposed hmited income, the conditions would 
 not bear with the same force on us as they cUd on those 
 who could not escape them, for we, conscious of possessions, 
 would be conscious also that we could step out of the 
 cripphng environment at any time. Moreover, we should 
 not have the fear of old-age poverty ever before our eyes. 
 But the vivid planning for our own hves under the same 
 circumstances as prevailed over the hves of our neighbours 
 brought those circumstances into daily thought and made 
 for housing reform. 
 
 Whether we should ever have taken the step 1 cannot 
 say, for just before the attempt might have been made, Mr. 
 Barnett became ill with phlebitis and complications which 
 puzzled the doctors. On this iUness Mrs. Hill wrote to her 
 daughter, Mrs. Maurice : 
 
 We are anxious about Mr. Barnett. Mrs. Barnett wrote last night to 
 Ockey saying he had nearly fainted again, and he " did not see the good of 
 lying there " — they " wanted Miss Octavia to write them one of her own 
 letters." In short the doubt he has always had about himself seems 
 beginning to depress her in spite of that well of joy and love which Mrs. 
 Barnett has in herself. Ockej' saw him on Saturday. He has to lie with 
 his arm supported by piUows at right angles with his body and never to 
 move it. Ockey says he looks grand — almost supernatural. One can 
 fancy what a young, strong, ardent man like him must be going through 
 mentally. The pam he says is not much, only discomfort. 
 
 Dr. Ernest Hart is extremely hopeful ; the other doctors are silent, they 
 say they never saw a case quite like it, and do not hazard an opuiion. His 
 mother is with them, and the wife and mother work most afiectionately 
 and harmoniously together. Mr. Barnett is of course anxious that all should 
 go on as much as possible as if he were about, and as he is well except for 
 this local matter, the parish business is directed by him through BIrs. 
 Barnett. Ockey went off this morning before breakfast to ask Mr. Young 
 to go down to them to-daj'. They had a long talk about Mr. Barnett. Mr. 
 Young is very grave about it. They attribute the mischief to a blow from 
 a ball while playing at rackets. I think the general impression is that he 
 wiU recover, but I fear it will be a tedious affair. 
 
 Many are the incidents during that illness — the ridiculous 
 frolics indulged in with my husband's mother to amuse our 
 patient ; the wearying search for " guinea-pigs " to take 
 the services on Sunday, who when found were a curious 
 
REV. MILES ATKINSON 91 
 
 set of perfunctory Christians ; the encUess dirty apphcants 
 for charity, who, knowing the Vicar was ill, were for ever 
 knocking at the door to claim the promises Avhich they 
 invented he had made. But he recovered, which was just 
 all that mattered to both mother and wife, though the 
 long illness had made a curate necessary. 
 
 When the Rev. Miles Atkinson and his sister Mary joined 
 us, his advent was announced in words which not an action 
 in his aU too short life behed : 
 
 He is devoting himself to work which is not attractive. He 
 believes in God and duty, and looks to find in you helpers and 
 fellow-workers. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 " In the richest country of the world the great mass of our countrymen live 
 without the knowledge, the character, and the fullness of life which together 
 make the best gift of this age." 
 
 Holidays always played a large part in our lives. The 
 strenuous conditions in which we hved made it necessary 
 frequently to leave Whitechapel, and as we both liked 
 traveUing, we arranged hohdays which fed us with beauty 
 and enriching memories. The year after my husband's 
 long illness we again went to Switzerland, but he had a 
 recurrence of the same trouble just before we left England, 
 and so the hohday was clouded with anxiety about his health. 
 He was also consumed with nervous restlessness, so that no 
 sooner had we arrived at one place than he began to plan 
 to leave it, while the magnitude of the walks he arranged 
 kept us both unrested. One from Chamonix to Courmayeur 
 over the Col du Geant was never forgotten, for we accom- 
 phshed it in three days in spite of heat and %Adnd. After 
 that I was ill with fatigue, and so we had to drive down the 
 beautiful Aosta Valley and pause amidst the mtching 
 charm of the Italian lakes. But not for long, and the 
 beauties of Monte Generoso and Monte Motterone Lugano 
 and Orta are blurred and entwined with recoUections of 
 painful exhaustion, for " walk for walking's sake " had 
 become a fetish. But as my husband got better he rested 
 more, and on our return we were both able to do the winter's 
 work of ] 87-1-5. 
 
 One of its pleasant duties was laying down the Hnes by 
 which for many years we obtained good music for our 
 neighbours. In the first Parish Report Mr. Barnett -wrote : 
 
 1874. — The oratorio of the "Messiah " was performed during 
 Advent in the Church by a large choir ; the effect was very 
 grand, and in the solemn silence which followed each burst of 
 glorious sound, we felt that the people were iudeed worshipping 
 God. 
 
 92 
 
GENEROSITY OF MUSICIANS 93 
 
 In the following years more Oratorio Services are recorded : 
 
 1875. — The foiir musical services during the spring were got 
 up by friends in the West End, and gave immense dehght to the 
 large congregations which assembled each week. The experi- 
 ence confirms my belief as to their spiritual value. Grand music, 
 heard in a Church with which many associations of a higher 
 life are connected, seems to have the power of expressing the 
 aspirations and holding the attention of those whose lives are 
 for the most part low and uncontrolled. . . The music would, 
 I think, help many, whom sermons fail to touch, to possess their 
 souls. It might be possible to have such musical services at 
 fortnightly intervals, and in the intervening weeks to have 
 lectiures. The oratorios will reach the emotions, the lectures 
 the reason of the people, and both may, perhaps, be brought 
 into religion instead of bemg let run to waste in impure excite- 
 ment and godless speculations. 
 
 The generosity of musical people, whether professional 
 or amateur, was wonderful. Never was a request made to 
 them in vain. The value of their talents to the poor had 
 but to be assured, and they were offered unstintingly, 
 regardless of bad weather outside, or hot air laden with 
 smoke or smells inside. How they arise — those singers and 
 players — and file before my memory as I write, including 
 among them the eager imperfect service of unknown Mr. 
 Smiths and Miss Joneses up to talent which has earned fame 
 for names such as Miss Fanny Davies, Miss Anna WilHams, 
 Lady Cohn Campbell, Madame Clara Butt, Mr. Heathcote 
 Statham, Miss Susie Lushington. Widely different, both 
 in capacity and reputation, as were these musicians, they 
 aU sang the same note of desire to " hurry to be helpers 
 and prove the kinship of mankind." 
 
 And it was not only the leaders who were thus generous. 
 Every winter for many years the large choirs of musical 
 societies, West-end churches, and schools of music came " to 
 make a joyful noise " for our people, and in those days the 
 gift was larger, because the means of transit were fewer. The 
 Underground only extended as far as Moorgate Street ; the 
 omnibuses were slow and rattled noisUy down Oxford Street, 
 then paved "with iU-fitting stones. But they journeyed East- 
 wards, those helpful men and women, and after their music 
 had swept our weary and often degraded neighbours " away 
 from the wearing pettiness of life," they came for refresh- 
 ment into the little Vicarage, and there many friendships 
 were born and fresh fellow- workers yoked together. 
 
94 ORATORIOS IN ST. JUDE'S CHURCH 
 
 "It is years ago, and you wiU have forgotten me," is 
 said often to me stiU, " but I came to your house after we 
 had sung in the Church," and then is sometimes added, " I 
 can never forget that service or that congregation." 
 
 Neither can I. As long as memory lasts, I shaU see those 
 long brown pews crowded with people ; I shall smell the 
 sickening odour of their clothes and persons ; I shall recall 
 the yearning expressions of their uphfted faces as they were 
 caught up by the music beyond their carking cares ; I 
 shall hear their sobs, as, moved out of their normal dumbness, 
 they bowed their heads with "no language but a cry" ; 
 I shall hear the mighty wave of sound as all rose and sang 
 together " God, our help in ages past," and after the 
 thunder, thank God, I can still recall " the still small voice " 
 as, in absolute silence, my husband blessed us, and his blessing 
 made men pray. 
 
 After what has been said of the generosity of musical 
 people, the simple entry in the 1877 report wiU not be 
 unexpected : 
 
 Musical services and lectures have been given at fortnightly 
 intervals during the winter months. The following is a hst : 
 
 Nov. 1. Harvest Festival. Jau. 25. Oratorio, "Messiah." 
 
 „ 8. Lecture, " Eastern Politics." ,, 31. Lecture, "Egypt." 
 „ 15. Oratorio, " St. PauL" Eeb. 7. Oratorio, "HymnofPraise." 
 
 „ 22. Lecture, " Socrates." ,, 14. Lecture, " Mazzini." 
 
 „ 29. Oratorio, " Elijah." ,, 21. Oratorio, "Elijah." 
 
 Dec. 6. Lecture, " Fair Play." ,, 28. Lecture, "Buddha." 
 
 „ 13. Oratorio, " Crusaders." Mar. 7. Oratorio, "Creation." 
 
 ,, 20. Christmas Carols. „ 14. Lecture, " Democracy." 
 
 Jan. 11. Carol Service. ,, 21. Oratorio, "Messiah." 
 
 „ 18. Selections from Oratorios. 
 
 The quahty of active imagination for the hunger and 
 thirst of starving spirits is not a common one, and still 
 rarer is it to select for their food a form of sustenance 
 which does not appeal to a personal taste, but this is what 
 took place when my husband started oratorio services in 
 Church. Of how music might express, and, by expressing, 
 create the deeper yearnings of dumb humanity, he wrote : 
 
 A moving picture might be drawn of those who wanting 
 much can express nothing. Here are men and women, bone of 
 our bone, flesh of our flesh ; who have that within them which 
 raises them above all created things, powers by which they 
 are allied to all whom the world honours, faculties by which 
 they might find unfaihng joy. But they have no form of 
 
irUSIC IS A PARABLE 95 
 
 expression, and so thej^ live a lower life, walking by sight, not by 
 faith, giving rein to powers which find their satisfaction near 
 at hand, and developing faculties in the use of which there is 
 more pain than joy. . . 
 
 3.1usic would seem fitted to be in tliis age the expression of 
 that 'v^'hich men in their inmost hearts most reverence. Creeds 
 have ceased to express this and have become symbols of divi- 
 sion rather than of unitJ^ Music is a parable, telling in sounds 
 which will not change of that 'wliich is worthy of worship, tell- 
 ing it to each hearer just in so far as he by nature and circum- 
 stances is able to understand it, but giving to all that feeling of 
 common life and assurance of sympathy which has in old times 
 been the strength of the Church. 
 
 By music, men may be helped to find God who is not far 
 from any one of us, and be brought again -within reach of that 
 tangible sympathy, the sympathy of their fellow-creatures. ^ 
 
 Of the effect of music on himself he spoke in one of his 
 letters to me from Clifton in 1883 : 
 
 Here I am in Frank's drawing-room. Yly ears full of the music 
 Loulou has been making. Great is the power of music, but I 
 don't think it would find me if I had not a certain intellectual 
 power of living with the sounds in a life which they create. I 
 wonder if our people less educated rejoice simply in the sensation, 
 or feel that music opens the view of a life ia wliich they them- 
 selves live or might live. 
 
 It was strange that Mr. Barnett should feel as he did the 
 influence of music, for he had neither taste for nor training 
 in it. He could not sing, and had ilo ear either for time 
 or tune. Indeed, neither he nor I were ever quite sure of 
 " God save the Queen " until the other people stood up. 
 This, during our visit to India, led to some embarrassing 
 moments, when one's native friends, anxious to show their 
 loyalty to our Queen, started in unexpected keys and on 
 unknown instruments the honoured tune, and were met 
 with no corresponding change of posture in us. 
 
 In those days it was not the practice to have any but 
 the ordinary Church services usually dully rendered, and 
 the oratorios in St. Jude's raised much opposition among 
 those who scented " Rome " in every innovation. Indig- 
 nant righteous men sent by indignant righteous organisa- 
 tions stood outside the Church and rebuked those who 
 went in, offering in violent words their opinion of the 
 future climate to be endured by the Vicar and all who 
 
 1 Practicable Socialism (new series). Published by Messrs. Longraans, 
 Green & Co., 1914. 
 
96 BIRTH OF THE PEOPLE'S CONCERT SOCIETY 
 
 aided Mm. So angry were they, and so angry did they 
 make the large and rough congregations, that the aid of 
 the pohce had to be obtained to prevent breaches of the 
 peace. People holding other opinions saw in the services 
 signs of budding ecclesiasticism in Mr. Barnett, only to be 
 disappointed when his reforms included a choir of men and 
 women, evening Communion, and the offer of the Sacra- 
 ment to all who " truly and earnestly repent." 
 
 But there were some people who would not enter a church, 
 and to them the saving grace of fine music had to be offered. 
 Of the winter of 1877-8 Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1878. — On two Sunday evenings in December Herr Franke 
 gave classical concerts in our schoolroom. I tried to find a 
 room better suited to the purpose, but theological or legal 
 obstacles stood in the way. There was a large demand for 
 tickets which were freely given, and it need hardly be said 
 that the music was perfect of its kind, very unlike any commonly 
 heard in these parts. It seemed, though, entirely to capture 
 the minds of the audience, and during some of the difficult 
 pieces there was not a movement in the room. I explained 
 that I was introducing the music in no irreligious spirit, but 
 simply because I believed such music would in the truest sense 
 help the people to be religious. We shall, I hope, have some 
 more of such concerts. 
 
 Somehow Sunday must be rescued from its present degrada- 
 tion, saved from being a day of sleep, feasting, and working, to 
 become a day of learning, enjoyment, and rest. Somehow the 
 people must be brought within the refining influence such as 
 that which comes from knowledge of the best things within 
 men's reach. . . Holding as I do the perfect lite to be the 
 result of all good influences, I try to blend with the other good 
 influences of Sunday, the good influence of music, so that all 
 may work together to give to the people fullness of hfe." 
 
 The next winter there were sis concerts, and then it is 
 reported : 
 
 1879. — Very much as the result of the concerts held in our 
 schoolroom, the People's Concert Society has been formed, its 
 object being to spread the taste for high-class music ; that such 
 music would find a response in the minds of those for whom 
 it is not often performed has been justified by our experience . . . 
 
 — an experience which the splendid work of the People's 
 Concert Society has now made an article of commonly 
 accepted social faith. 
 
 During the first year at St. Jude's my husband had 
 invited weU-known clergymen to give lectures in Church 
 
LECTURES IN ST. JUDE'S CHURCH 97 
 
 on subjects of daily life such as marriage, education, and 
 politics. The foUomng year he wrote : 
 
 1874. — It seems useless in a neighbom-hood in which Churches 
 are so numerous, that the same service should be provided in 
 each for a very few attendants. If in our Chiu'ch we could 
 have a lecture on a subject of common interest, we might possibly 
 afford a means of worship and education to those who make 
 no use of existing means. . . It is bj^ knowing grand lives, 
 by feeling their hearts bow before the men who have been heroes 
 in daily life, that men now living will themselves live higher lives 
 and find out God. . . If by our lectmes we are able to show 
 them how true human greatness depends on reasonable religion, 
 though we ourselves are unable to provide those means of 
 worship which will give strength to their longmgs for life and 
 fuller life, and satisfaction to their wants to know the imlinown 
 God, we may yet feel that we are doing something in our day to 
 prepare the way for such worship of the future. 
 
 After sis years' experience the Vicar chronicled the 
 failure of his hopes : 
 
 1879. — During the last winter we have had lectures on Car- 
 lyle, Milton, Spinoza, Chaucer, John Broivn, Howard, Sir T. 
 Moore, Savonarola, Wesley, i'ilarcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Sir 
 Harry Vane, and Jerome. . . I hoped that interest in great 
 lives would have drawn those to Chiuoh who, not being great, 
 are yet brothers of the great. The result has not justified my 
 hope. The lectures have been good, but there have been at 
 most 100, and sometimes as few as twenty listeners. . . SJy 
 one object is to make the Church serve the needs of the soul, 
 the need which all have for the wider, fuller life, which is called 
 " eternal " life. . . What will be the worship of the future 
 none can say. We only know that it will grow out of the effort 
 of those who, in the present, strive to approach the highest. 
 Such effort must take various forms. 
 
 At that time, forty-five years ago, it was usual for the 
 children of Church schools to attend the ordinary services. 
 They were allotted a place apart where they fidgeted, 
 coughed, played surreptitiously, and hated the services with 
 the Uvely intensity of youthful hatred. With my husband's 
 sympathy with children, and his desire that everyone should 
 think rationally, he arranged with Mr. Leonard to start a 
 children's service. He wrote — 1874 : 
 
 It is better for children to attend a service which they under- 
 stand than to go through forms intended to express the wants 
 
98 MR. EDWARD LEONARD 
 
 and hopes of those who know and feel the sin and sorrow of the 
 world. 
 
 The children came in goodly numbers to the schools, where 
 they were tenderly taught interesting religion. Three years 
 after the services began the Vicar reported : 
 
 During Mr. Leonard's absence, through illness, I had the 
 opportunity of taking his service. I have never been more 
 delighted than by the evident interest and devotion shoAvn by 
 the children. 
 
 When people are alive, it is not usual to write about 
 them, but as Mr. Edward Leonard held a unique position 
 in our Uves, I am going to tell how at twenty-four he gave 
 up a promising career to go to Whitechapel, where he lived 
 on his small private means in order, hand in hand with us, to 
 face the wrongs and woes of the poor. When liis weakly health 
 compelled him to leave East London, my husband wrote : 
 
 The poor to whom he so freely gave himself, the children to 
 whom he was a brother as well as a teacher, the fellow- workers 
 to whom his unfailing patience often encouraged, have all sadly 
 missed him. Though his name is little knoAvn among East-end 
 workers, there is not one of those whose names are emblazoned 
 in books or pamphlets who did better work than he did. A life 
 such as his is rich in good, and those who enjoy the good, fail- 
 ing to discover the doer, thank only the God he served. 
 
 It was great comfort to have a man who, from the very 
 beginning of our work, had not only love for us but faith 
 in our methods, so often blamed or despised ; indeed he 
 was the first of our settlers, and when we had to name the 
 first Settlement — 1884 — we felt that it would have been 
 more appropriate to call it " Leonard " Hall, instead of 
 after Arnold To3Tibee, who had been a loved and welcome 
 visitor, but in no sense an East London settler. 
 
 My husband's gift to me on one of the first of the many 
 birthdays we spent together should be recorded. As I 
 disUked luxuries, and had inherited most things which 
 brought legitimate comfort, he found it difficult to select 
 presents, and so some weeks before this particular May 4th, 
 he had asked me what I would hke to have. 
 
 " A policeman," said I promptly, " to stand at the corner 
 of the Wentworth Street group of courts and alleys and stop 
 the fights." 
 
 " I never heard of such a present," was his surprised 
 
GIFT OF A POLICEMAN 99 
 
 reply, " but I will try." And when the day came, on my 
 plate amid the flo\\'ers lay the letter from the poUce 
 authorities saying that an officer should be put upon the 
 district indicated. With the pohce Mr. Barnett was always 
 on excellent terms, and he frequently testified to the splendid 
 quahties which their disagreeable and difficult duties called 
 forth. 
 
 " I stood aside and watched the pohce handle the matter, 
 and marvelled at their patience under really almost unendur- 
 able provocation," I recall him saying when a certain Mrs. 
 Odell, herseK only half sober, was fighting with her tipsy 
 husband, and who, having been parted by the constalale, 
 again united to turn their angry lists and ugly tongues on 
 him. The attitude of the httle crowd is on such occasions 
 a subtle influence, and one never to be reckoned on. It 
 appears only to judge from the surface, but often the judg- 
 ment is not superficial, for when aU hve so closely together, 
 the character of everyone is known intimately, and not 
 infrequently the intervention of the pohce in a street row 
 seems to be an interference with justice, meted out at last. 
 My husband put high value on the influence of the poHce ; 
 and instead of complaining to headquarters when things 
 were not quite aU they ought to be, he invited the district 
 officers to come and talk over the difficulty. Those who 
 came to these informal taUis have borne testimony to the 
 encouragement they obtained in their work — so often 
 unrecognised and unappreciated ; of the suggestions which 
 seemed to lift duU routine into a possible mission ; and of 
 the courtesy, which while stimulating greater effort for 
 virtue and keener scent for wrong, yet never forgot that 
 the speaker was an outsider talking to an official, whose 
 hfe's work was under discussion, and M^ho had to bear " the 
 burden and heat of the day." 
 
 Years spent in East London brought us iato friendly 
 contact with large numbers of the Force, and this relation- 
 ship stood us in good stead when we went to the opening 
 of the Imperial Institute by the Queen in May 1893. My 
 brother-in-law had lent us his victoria, and after White- 
 chapel bareness, it was pleasant driving through the Park 
 ia its spring dress, and seeing the crowds of expectant people 
 eager to catch sight of their Queen. We were late, and 
 found ourselves being turned back in spite of the fullest 
 credentials. Suddenly Mr. Barnett was recognised by 
 some friend among the pohce, and all was changed, for we 
 
100 MEETINGS FOR MOTHERS 
 
 were not only allowed to go on, but received many salutes 
 and evidences of welcome. " Who are they ? " we heard 
 people standing in the crov/d ask, but no one could reply. 
 We were just two genuine East-enders " known to the 
 pohce," but later my husband was amused at being told, 
 " It took us some time to spot you, sir, in such a smart 
 turn-out." 
 
 This is a digression from parish machinery, a di'ear 
 subject, were it not for the spirit of the man who founded 
 temporary helpfulnesses on deathless principles. Through 
 all the organisations ran the same thought. Each indi- 
 vidual, being a child of God, must be honoured, and no 
 action taken which allowed him to forget his high caUing, 
 or tempted him to accept himself to be " like a beast with 
 lower pleasures, like a beast with lower pains ! " 
 
 In the days when the parson was expected to reward 
 his parishioners for attending the church or parish organisa- 
 tions, our Mothers' Jieeting was exceptional : 
 
 1874. — No money advantage is gained by the members ; 
 they simply meet, save pence for clothing, enjoy a chat, and 
 hear some reading ; the meeting is generally closed by a short 
 talk on the deeper sides of life, either by mj^self or Mrs. Barnett. 
 If a gift of clothing or money were added, I should despair of 
 seeing the growth of friendship or any spiritual good ; the 
 members would learn to thuik only of gain, and grudge if they 
 were not satisfied. 
 
 That the meetings created friendship, there is no doubt, 
 for in front of me — December 1914 — He fourteen letters of 
 old " mothers " who have written to wish me blessings for 
 this sad Christmas time ; and yet it is forty years after the 
 meeting was estabhshed, and twenty-one years after Mr. 
 Barnett had ceased to be Vicar of St. Jude's. 
 
 For the reacUng of the usual goody-goody books we sub- 
 stituted talks on matters which were or ought to be of 
 interest to these important women, and. in iSSl the Vicar 
 reported action which was but an anticipation of the 
 schools for mothers now subsidised by the Government. 
 
 Mrs. Ernest Eart gave the mothers a series of lectiu'es on 
 " Bodies and Babies." Some intelligent interest was aroused, 
 and the lectures were evidently popular. The teacliing though 
 is not yet reduced to practice. The belief in the danger of 
 water and the need of physic is too dee2ily rooted. 
 
 While the mothers were but few, I used to take the 
 
MISS HARRIET GARDINER 101 
 
 illustrated papers and explain public events, an early begin- 
 ning of the now popular newspapef class. Slowly the 
 numbers grew, and when we left the parish in 1893 there 
 were three flourishing Mothers' Meetings, the register of the 
 evening one showing 120 on the books and 90 in regular 
 attendance. 
 
 The advantage of Mothers' Meetings, I believe, consists not 
 so much in the actual teaching which is given, nor in the habit 
 of saving which is encouraged, as in the sense of fellowship 
 which is fostered. Women especially need some whole, bigger 
 than the famUy, of which thej' can think, and whose needs 
 they serve. To be a member of a meeting may be very far 
 from being a member of a Church, of a Kingdom, but such mem- 
 bership may be a preparation for the highest of all memberships 
 in the body of Christ. 
 
 Very devoted Vi'ere the ladies ^vho gave themselves to 
 this work, and happy are the memories which gather round 
 the gracious personahties of Mrs. Thurston Holland, IVIis. 
 Godwin — sister-in-law of George Macdonald — and Miss 
 Murray Smith — sister of the great pubUsher — while the 
 strenuous work of Miss Gardiner can never be forgotten. 
 
 To F. O. B., October ISth, 1889.— On Monday after the usual 
 seeing people all day long, Lyulph Stanley and Gell came to 
 dinner and then there was a great meeting of mothers gathered 
 to m.ake a presentation to liiiss Gardiner. One hundred and 
 fifty of them had kept the secret since last June. My wife made 
 a pretty speech and the whole lot cheered as if they had never 
 in their lives been so glad. 
 
 With some of the mothers I held conferences on matters 
 of pubhc morals or family ethics. The remark of one of 
 them was instructive, though not conclusive. We were 
 discussing the wisdom of permitting the girls in their teens 
 to mingle freely with the boys of the same age, and regret 
 was expressed at the loss of maidenly reserve resultmg from 
 the street " larking ''' g.nd horse-play. 
 
 " What we've got to remember," said one mother, herself 
 a woman of native refinement, " is that there are worse 
 girls always waiting for the boys. I'll agree to my girl 
 losing something I'd rather she keep, if other mothers 
 will let their girls keep my boys straight. There wiU be 
 some ' larking,' say what you may, but why bad girls is 
 allowed at all beats me. The pohce are sharp enough over 
 
102 INFANT WELFARE 
 
 pickpockets, but these sort of girls steal what's worth raore 
 than a boy's money." 
 
 One of our fellow-workers has sent her remembrances : 
 
 I remember a Conference Meeting of the mothers at the Vicarage. I 
 was asked to go to read aloud, and I went promptly, for I did love being 
 with them both. It was the time of the Whitechapel murders, and the 
 discussion turned on the drunkenness among men — the Vicaress declaring 
 her conviction that men were what women made them ; that every married 
 woman could stop the drink, if she would have nothing further to do with 
 a drunken husband. My word ! the indignation that ensued and we all 
 talked, and then a little mother with a big family asked what about the 
 example to the children if she refused to speak to her husband, when all 
 the home-life had to be lived in one room ? Nobody could offer a satis- 
 factory solution. And so I read a Uttle gem of Oscar's WUde's, I think it 
 Vv'as "The House of Pomegranates," and notwithstanding there was no 
 final conclusion to our little debate, we all enjoyed ourselves. 
 
 From the Mothers' Meetmgs grew the Maternity Society, 
 based on the demand for seK-respect without which virtue 
 cannot grow. 
 
 Maternity Societies are only too common in London ; most 
 of them offer premiums, more or less large, on improvidence. 
 We have tried to make an improvement by requiring a sub- 
 scription of three shillings before the usual gifts are made. 
 
 The nurse collected the three shillings in twelve weekly 
 visits, which gave opportunity for talks on the duty of 
 cleanhness, sobriety, and industry, because they were in- 
 fluences on the unborn child, an anticipation of the health- 
 visiting now undertaken by municipal authorities. 
 
 In writing the St. Jude's Reports it had always to be 
 remembered that some for whom the parish machinery 
 existed might read them, so to avoid hurting them, mitch 
 was omitted which would have been enhghtening to the 
 West-end people who mainly supported the organisations. 
 The reports of the night schools said : 
 
 Some very wild girls have, at any rate, learned order, and 
 many have been introduced to places where they are doing well. 
 I look back on this as good work. It would be well if many of 
 those who work in the East End would be content with getting 
 one or two girls thoroughly settled in places rather than trying 
 to influence many. The desire for large and visible spiritual 
 results is the curse of much missionary effort. 
 
 But no mention is made of the extraordinary scenes that 
 some of us went through with those dear dirty girls. I 
 
NIGHT SCHOOLS FOR GIRLS 103 
 
 recaU one evening when the gas was suddenly turned off, 
 the heads of teachers wrapped in tablecloths, and the whole 
 class, with mid whoops, tore down the stairs into the street. 
 Fights between the girls were frequent, and enjoj^ed by 
 both combatants and on-lookers. The Ip.nguage they used 
 is best forgotten ; their unconquerable and communicable 
 dirt led the way to the Verminous Persons Bill ; their way 
 of looldng at things was a continual surprise ; their de- 
 ficiency in seK-control made teaching almost hopeless ; 
 but their hearts were good, fuU of tenderness, quick to 
 respond to what was kind, and they were ready — until they 
 forgot — to be responsible for any and every thing they were 
 trusted ^\ith. What friendships grew out of that rough 
 stony soil, and how we laughed at and mth them ! One 
 of their deUghts was to see me mimic their maimers, and 
 years after the trivial incidents were forgotten, it was not 
 infrequent during a pleasant afternoon in the country for 
 married women to call on me to show how " Lizzie " or 
 " PoUy " had " carried on," " in the night school, you know, 
 mum, top of the old schools." 
 
 It was the knovi'ledge of the pure gold in those untaught 
 wayward natures that provided the impetus for Mr. Barnett's 
 incessant demand for better education, or to quote his words : 
 
 Looking on, I see, in imagination, some, of whom we now 
 almost despair, joyful in the pursuit of goodness, growing dailj- 
 in purity and gentleness, daily discovering the life of man to 
 consist in love and self-devotion ... as those taught of God, 
 each seeking good and doing good according to his gift. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 '" The true love of our neighbour depends on the love of God. Moses dis- 
 covered Ood first, then helped his brethren. Isaiah met Him in the Temple, 
 then told his neighbours to ' be just and relieve the oppressed.'' " 
 
 The hard and exhausting work, amid neighbours of whose 
 Hves it was often a pain and a shame to know, was Hghtened 
 by the co-operation in service of many noble men and 
 women who gave generously of their best to the people, 
 and of their heart's affection to us. As our plans evolved, 
 the Rev. H. R. Haweis made it his duty to tell his congre- 
 gation that they could offer their work to Mr. Barnett, who 
 would find something for everyone to do, and it was through 
 his intervention that many willing helpers found their way 
 to St. Jude's. The exact occasion of the advent of most 
 of them I forget, but the coming of two ladies, Mss Marion 
 Paterson and Miss Pauhne Douglas Townsend, still holds a 
 place in my memory. 
 
 It was after the evening service, when one was longing 
 for supper and peace, that I got a message to say a new 
 worker. Miss Paterson, was in the vestry with my husband 
 who wanted me to see her. " Oh, bother ! " was, I fear, my 
 thought, but I went back, up the north aisle to the vestry 
 — then enclosed only by curtains — and standing between 
 them was a girl of nineteen, whose childish face and violet 
 eyes spoke of innocency. 
 
 " How foolish of Mr. Haweis to send such a baby as 
 this to Whitechapel," was my thought; " I can't let those 
 eyes see evil'' ; and then, "Well, she can anyhow keep the 
 clothes-cupboard tidy," was my practical decision, as I 
 arranged with her to come down on a week-day and begin. 
 Begin what 1 A hfe of ser\'ice that has lasted from 1876 
 even to this day ; a contribution to moral forces that has 
 uplifted ideals ; an offering of sympathy to the hidden 
 depths of all and sundry ; a self-surrender that was so 
 complete in its unconsciousness as often to be unrecognised ; 
 
 104 
 
Miss douglas townsend M 
 
 and a gift of devotion to us both that " passeth under- 
 standing." ^ 
 
 Miss ToAvnsend came to us a year later. Of the work 
 that she joined me to do my husband wrote : 
 
 1874. — The girls who Hve in these courts are of the roughest 
 description ; 'wdth no home - training and only the very in- 
 adequate education of a Ragged School, they have hved and 
 learned in the streets. Their parents are for the most part 
 beggars, or something worse, and unless they be removed from 
 these terrible surroundings, there would seem to be little chance 
 of saving them from ruin. 
 
 And then four years later occurred the passage : 
 
 1878. — The work of seeking and placing out in service the 
 little girls has this year increased to such an extent as to be 
 beyond the power of Mrs. Barnett and her friends in this neigh- 
 bourhood. . . We have therefore been happy in securing the 
 services of Miss Douglas Townsend as Secretary, and Math her 
 aid a branch of the Metropolitan Association for Befriending 
 , Yoimg Servants has been opened. . . A well-selected place, 
 the sense of friendship, the consciousness of care, make all 
 the difference to the little servant in the strange house among 
 new surroundings ; a difference which in the end will make her 
 either a " curse " or a " blessing " to all generations. 
 
 It is not often one engages a responsible worker and lays 
 the foundation of a hfe's friendship in haK an hour, and 
 yet that was all the time it took for Miss Townsend and me 
 to arrange to unite our forces. With his almost unerring 
 penetration Mr. Barnett had felt sure that she, the highly 
 cultivated lady and accomphshed musician, was the woman 
 needed to give affectionate and efficient help to the many 
 young lives ever " knocking at the door," and so it proved. 
 
 1 To a girl-friend Misa Paterson wrote : 
 
 June 2nd, 1876. — It was so nice at Mr. Haweis's tiiis morning. He 
 brought in a clergyman from the East End who talked to us about all 
 the poor sinners in the wretched courts and alleys of his parish, for he 
 says they are more sinners than sufferers and want our friendship more 
 than our money. I want to go and be their friend : I know they are 
 drunkards and a worse class of people than I have ever seen, but I would 
 try so hard to help them if only Papa and Mamma will let me. Mr. 
 Barnett does not want us to be district visitors or preach to them or 
 anything like that, but be really a friend to them, and so perhaps lead 
 them to God without their knowing. The lessons he wants us to teach 
 them are, " Love one another " and " Obedience to God." I feel I must 
 go to them. I know it will be hard work and most likely seem a failure 
 and their lives will seem so dreadful to mix with, still I feel I can and 
 ought to do it. 
 
 1—9 
 
106 MISS KATE POTTER 
 
 For twenty-two years she spent four days of every week 
 in Whitechapel, and when events had hindered so much 
 active service she still watched, guided, and inspired her 
 successors with the unique power she possesses. 
 
 In 1875 Miss Kate Potter was sent to us by Miss Octavia, 
 who wrote of her : 
 
 She is very bright and happy, extremely capable, and has been through 
 a good deal in her life though she is young. 
 
 Of her work as rent-collector Mr. Barnett reported : 
 1878. — I have often had occasion to mention the common 
 lodgings and nightly lodging-houses which abomid in this parish. 
 They are filled with people of the lowest description, who, herd- 
 ing together, are beyond the reach of any influence, and treat 
 the words cast to them by the street preachers as the swine 
 would treat the pearls. Fourteen of these houses have this year 
 come into the possession of a friend of iiiss Octavia HiU's. It 
 was dehghtful to enter the places of which one has such sad 
 memories, to order the removal of dirt, the renovation of the 
 broken doors and plaster, the admission of hght through new 
 windows. It is more delightful to know that in these houses 
 respectable people are now living, visited weekly by a lady who 
 is not only the rent-collector, but a friend to help by wise coiuisel 
 before the time of need, and with sympathy for them as creatures 
 capable of the fullest life. 
 
 For eight years Miss Potter worked with us, bringing in 
 her wake her hosts of friends, as well as two sisters — Miss 
 Theresa,' so beautiful in her stately body, and still more 
 beautiful in her inquiring soul, daring in her quest for Truth 
 to assault Heaven and face HeU ; Miss Beatrice,^ so strong 
 in mind, graceful in hmb, and noble in feature, yet fearlessly, 
 in her search for facts, working in sweating-shops and 
 living as a lone girl in block dweUings. 
 
 Miss Potter's friends were not of the "goody" sort, but 
 were people holding the world's plums, of wealth, high 
 social position, and posts of national responsibihty, but she 
 brought them aU to tender their meed of service to the poor, 
 and compelled them to face conditions usually hidden from 
 the comfortable. 
 
 In 1882 Mr. Leonard Courtney, M.P., won her for his wife, 
 and of her departure Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1 Later Mrs. Alfred Cripps, and now, alas ! no longer in this world. 
 
 2 Later Mrs. Sidney Webb, and still thinking and working to promote 
 national well-being. 
 
MR. A, G. CROWDER 107 
 
 1883. — This year we lose Miss Potter. She has been a rent- 
 collector since 1876, and has found here so many friends that, 
 desiring on her wedding day to bo among lier " oa\ii people," 
 she could only be among her friends at St. Judo's. March 1.5th, 
 1883, win be long remembered by tlie many who, on that day, 
 followed their friend with kindly thoughts into her new life, 
 and shared the first meal which she took with her husband. We 
 shall not forget her, and she, I know, will not forget us. 
 
 No ! indeed, that wedding is not forgotten — the dignified 
 happiness of the bridegroom, the beauty of the bride's gown, 
 the palms and the flowers in the Church, the Vicar's address, 
 the height of the Buszard's cake, how Mr. Herbert Spencer 
 behaved during the service, why Mr. John Morley looked so 
 grave, the ladies' dresses, the number of carriages, the daintj' 
 breakfast served in the big schoolroom, all so carefully 
 arranged, that without fuss or patronage the coster sat side 
 by side with the Member of ParUament, and the overworked 
 mother enjoyed food she had not cooked, while she talked 
 and listened to the " quahty " who had handed her to her 
 seat. Was it bizarre, forced and fanciful ? No ! for all 
 the guests, however far apart in mental and social degree, 
 were united by their love and respect for the bride, whose 
 thoughts and acts for everyone spelt friendship in imperish- 
 able letters. 
 
 " The Canon's ladies " was a family joke, for he had 
 more women friends than any man I know. His mantel- 
 shelf was dedicated to their photographs, and among them 
 for nearly forty years stood those of Marion Paterson, 
 Pauline Townsend, and Kate Courtney — a trinity of faithful 
 friends. 
 
 It seems almost ungracious to tell only of three of the many 
 friends who joined us to serve the poor and who made the 
 background of my husband's Mfe and work, and it is very 
 tempting to write of the early associations with those for 
 whom I care so much, but space is limited. 
 
 Perhaps it \vill be permitted to mention Mr. A. G. Crowder, 
 who, while hving in Portland Place, gave to East London 
 most of his time and thoughts. I do not recall who intro- 
 duced him, but I find his name recorded as a Sunday-school 
 teacher in 1874, as a trustee of the playground in 1878, as a 
 Guardian in 1 87 6, and it was his wealth which enabled the first 
 block of model dwellings — now BaUiol House — to be built on 
 land from which a group of " festering courts " was cleared. 
 How my husband loved that man ! Tall, erect, weU-dressed, 
 
108 REV. S. A. THOMPSON YATES 
 
 cultivated, devout, his every action based on principle, 
 Mr. Crowder was to him a rock on which to rest, while of 
 my husband his friend wrote : 
 
 I owe him a never-to-be-forgotten debt for all he taught me when I 
 first turned my steps to East London. 
 
 In 1877 our circle was enriched by the advent of the 
 Rev. S. A. Thompson Yates. He was then about thirty- 
 two, and, having left an easy parish, felt it his duty to do 
 hard work. This we were able to offe^ him. He took a 
 bouse in Commercial Road and brought his footman, his 
 maid, his china, his Chippendale furniture, his pictures, 
 and his cellar, to share with us all. 
 
 " I refuse to be too busy in improving other people's Hves 
 to Hve my own properly," he would say when demands on 
 his time were too encroaching, and thus at Mr. Yates's house 
 one always had the refreshment of the newest books, the 
 freshest theories, and the last pohtical and hterary gossip. 
 His work, done in regulated hours, was admirable. Strong, 
 kind, clear-sighted, and generous, he carried heaUng in his 
 hands, and when after twelve years' residence in East 
 London he moved westwards, he left a great gap in the 
 hves of many dull clergymen, duller curates, and over- 
 worked municipal and C.O.S. officials. 
 
 One by one they gathered round us, those kindred spirits, 
 and to introduce them to each other and to those among 
 our neighbours who were fellow- worshippers, invitation 
 meetings were held, at which ethical problems were dis- 
 cussed and ideals unashamedly set forth. 
 
 It was the response that noble thoughts aroused in un- 
 expected quarters that made my husband start the Com- 
 municants' Society, a small effort on which he set a large 
 value. 
 
 1878. — As a means of developing the soul's life, which is to 
 the mind what the mind is to the body, we have instituted a 
 Society of Communicants. . . 
 
 Its object is to enable its members to rise nearer to God, 
 within sight of those high and holy visions which haunt our 
 lives. Talking about the Holy Communion will enable us to 
 break down some of the superstitions which have hitherto sur- 
 rounded it, and prevented people from using a means, which, 
 by its simplicity, its social character, and its universality of 
 love, seem fitting an age which thinks that " he prayeth best 
 who loveth best." . . . 
 
 Life is more depressing than it need be because the people 
 
THE COMMUNICANTS' SOCIETY 109 
 
 we meet interest us so little. All seem so much alike, moved 
 by the same selfish fears and by the same narrow hopes. It is 
 as we becam.e conscious that we have deeper feeling and wider 
 hopes, have not onlj? bodies and minds but also spirits, that 
 interest grows and communion deepens. 
 
 The meetings were always held in the Vicarage, for it 
 was not possible to obtain the necessary quiet in the crowded 
 schools, but the ordeal of facing the parlour-maid, so trying 
 to some simple folk, was avoided, for every last comer 
 opened the door for the next arrival, and when the big 
 dramng-room was built in 1884 it was planned so aa to 
 admit the parish friends without the ceremony of ringing. 
 
 1881. — The Communicants' Meetings tend more to rest than 
 to activity ; the quiet of the Vicarage dra"wing-room, the sober 
 talk, the solemn thoughts, make those present feel as if it were 
 enough " to be," and as most people are anxious " to do," the 
 numbers present every month are not large. . . "\A'e have 
 learned to know one another as those v/ho are not ashamed of 
 having souls, and we have learned to recognise more of the 
 real power of the Holy Communion. The superstition which at 
 present keeps some away, and draws others, robs life of the 
 possibility of a unity after which men dimly strive. . . 
 
 As each sacred season set apart by the Church came 
 round, Mr. Barnett specially prepared subjects for medita- 
 tion and prayer. These were written out and given to each 
 member of the society. One is here appended ; 
 
 HOLY WEEK, 1888 
 
 The Holy Communion is sometimes not real because our Lord is not to 
 us a real Person. We are unable to feel His presence as we feel the presence 
 of a dear absent friend, whose thoughts, whose opinions, whose life we 
 know. I would therefore suggest that during Holy Week you should 
 dwell on some special features in our Lord's character. 
 
 Monday. 
 His patience. He endured opposition — Luke ix. 55, 56. He bore His 
 sorrow alone — Mark xiv. 37. 
 
 " When He was reviled. He reviled not again ; when He 
 suffered, He threatened not." 
 
 Tuesday. 
 His courage. He faced a host — Mark xiv. 42-8. He despised cowardice — 
 Mark viii. 38. He dared to touch the leper.-^Luke v. 13. 
 " Be strong, and of good courage." 
 
no SUBJECTS FOR MEDITATION 
 
 Wednesday. 
 Hie generosity. Party spirit could not make Him unfair — Mark ix. 39. 
 He saw good in the Roman Conqueror — Luke vii. 10. 
 " Tlie liberal man deviseth liberal things." 
 
 Thursday. 
 His indignation. He felt in Himself the wounds man gave to God — 
 Mark vii. 8. He resented wrong as wrong and not as injury to 
 Himself — Mark viii. 33. 
 
 " Be ye angry and sin not." 
 
 Friday. 
 His seK-sacrifioe. He loved to serve — Mark x. 45. His enemies saw 
 His purpose to be others' good — Mark xv. 31. 
 " I am among you as one that serveth." 
 
 Saturday. 
 His hopefulness. He saw life beyond death — Mark x. 34. Rest beyond 
 work — JIatt. xi. 29. Glory beyond shame — Mark xiv. 62. 
 " Abound in hope." 
 
 Samuel A. Baenett. 
 
 Mr. Barnett's constant effort was to show how, to the man 
 in the street of to-day, rehgion was a vital matter. He 
 had httle sympathy with those who felt that the Church 
 needed no new clothes, but he had too strong an historic 
 sense not to wish to use the ancient forms, and to read 
 into them the modern spirit. The foUowing passage illus- 
 trates what is meant : 
 
 1887. — In the studj^ of the Communion SerAace we have been 
 anew struck bj' its fitness to modern needs. The soul of the 
 worshipper, after being presented to the terrible God whose 
 will is made known in law and Gospel, rises to declare its belief 
 in this God. Then entering, as it were, into that great Society 
 which in all times and places has fought for right, the soul con- 
 fesses its shortcomings, hears that the God of power is also a 
 God of love, and catches an echo of the song " which angels 
 sing." In the strength of this knowledge the soul can humbly 
 ask even a crumb from God's table, and it hears once more 
 of the gift of Christ which proclaims God's infinite Love. All 
 creation seems now to exist for the individual ; it seems as if for 
 the one eating and drinking, God's will had been proclaimed 
 and God's gift made ; for the moment, the man is alone, and 
 his perfection is the absorbing project of Omnipotence. But if 
 it be a great matter to be an individual, it is a greater matter 
 to be part of a whole, so at once in common praj'er the soul 
 which has been face to face with God is called to remember its 
 place in the Christian body and its work as a member of that 
 body. The service ends with the hymn of praise fitting to 
 those who by humility have conquered sin, and who being alone 
 have found their place in God's company. . . 
 
THOUGHTS ON HOLY COMMUlSnON 111 
 
 In 1885 Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1885. — The Commimicants' Society has not developed accord- 
 ing to onr hopes. Its work may be deeper than is seen, and 
 some may by its means be living a closer life with God, but evi- 
 dence of such life would be welcome. As one gets older, one 
 learns that there is no other satisfaction for human nature than 
 communion with the Divine nature. One turns, therefore, from 
 evidence of greater comfort and greater knowledge to see if 
 one's neighbours live with a greater sense of an indwelling God. 
 The search is vara, and the Communicants' Society seems to 
 exist to no purpose. 
 
 Very deep was my husband's disappointment over the 
 failure of his efforts to make the people care for the Holy 
 Communion. To some few, the preparation meetings repre- 
 sented the high-water mark of spiritual experience, but for 
 the majority of those who came only occasionally the teach- 
 ing was too elusive, too impersonal, too ethereal, to grip 
 their thought. One who was present on these evenings 
 told me that many years afterwards in speaking to a brother- 
 clergyman of what he owed to St. Jude's and to Mr. Barnett, 
 his friend broke in vd.th : 
 
 " Yes, and his addresses to the communicants ! Can 
 you ever forget them ? They were the highest and most 
 spiritual I ever heard. They really seemed ' to lift up our 
 hearts unto the Lord.' " 
 
 , For fourteen years, once a month, Mr. Barnett gathered 
 the little group together and spoke to them of humanity's 
 deepest needs and highest hopes, and because, in the great- 
 ness of his ideals for all men, he used fathom-Knes where 
 yard-measures would suffice, or pointed out the stars to 
 those who only wished to see fire-balloons, at least he fol- 
 lowed His Master's example Who gave the law-ridden 
 world the spiritual precepts of the Sermon on the Mount. 
 I quite understood those who said " they were not good 
 enough " to assume even by their presence that they could 
 reach so lofty a standard of aspiration, but I also felt that 
 there were many among our fellow- workers who would be 
 greatly helped if they could be made aware of the spiritual 
 basis of the Vicar's work. I therefore persuaded him to 
 allow them to join the Communicants' Society annual 
 meeting on Advent Sunday. At first the West-end friends 
 were invited by personal letters, but, as the number grew, 
 the invitations had to be printed. One is printed here ; 
 
®oniiK£r:iaI i5lTS£t, 
 
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 yoikmi . hou. (k (>m.tL^ L ducL at L ijoooLCt^A^ dee. 
 
 cUIJ-cjumJ-^l U^e^TScd. , itiLcJ}-^ J- u ffz&C ^ iA^U 
 
 wJjL Jou- dazitc Cm^£ aii. JacLdLisu, Tlou. 2.7 . Io<<a 
 jUt^Sucs. Uul iucocita.ce a&u i Jou JoaiiiO ^ti(_ 
 
 dcccd^d. L ^-CoLd ffL deed. Oiie. uu.{Jld. ^" Ortf( 
 
Oun, UjTKi tuji /Z, o6£. iovuii (u.Il Jci" ktUr 
 Cadi ku-fccLota. I ileal- /coa. ciojiz ^■^ Jo^^mLs^ 
 
 Q I 'clocA 
 
 
114 ADVENT SUKDAY SERMON 
 
 An hour before the service the great body of earnest 
 men and women, every one of whom was personally known 
 to us as a fellow-worker, assembled in the schools ostensibly 
 to take tea, really to meet those they knew and be intro- 
 duced to others, a sort of social communion before the 
 Holy Communion, which was offered after the evening ser- 
 vice to all who cared to join. Of these services one friend 
 has chronicled her memories : 
 
 There were the wonderful gatherings in Church on Advent Sundays, 
 when the Aristocracy, Plutocracy, Democracy all met in that little East- 
 end Church to pray to Our Father. On these occasions the Canon never 
 failed to take the wind out of the sails of the whole congregation by pointing 
 to duties left undone and waiting. They were wonderful services. 
 
 It was not easy to preach at the same time to the rich 
 and poor, the cultivated and ignorant, to members of the 
 Estabhshed, Free, and Roman CathoUc Churches, to "Jews, 
 Turks, Infidels, and Heretics," but the preacher reached 
 the hearts of us all by his faith in our intention to be good. 
 
 We shall do well to avoid congratulations over the signs of 
 progress, and ask ourselves what we can do to increase the 
 reverence which looks up to God for strength and the charity 
 which is empty of self, what in a word we can do to induce a 
 belief in the existence of good. He who believes in God will 
 never doubt of a goodness to be found in the lowest and worst. 
 Our work should be to develop everyivhere the belief in goodness. 
 
 What, then, is to be done ? My answer to you is, "Show 
 yourself as one serving God for nought." A Life and not a 
 System convicted the world of righteousness and of sin. Your 
 life, even if you never preach and get no converts and have no 
 one calling himself of your Church or your Party, may be effec- 
 tive in making others believe in goodness. To you this j^ear, 
 therefore, my word is. Let your light shine as that of one who 
 does right for right's sake only. 
 
 Practically this means that in our private Ufe we should be 
 pure, and that in our public life we should resist the temptation 
 to make proselytes. If in our private life we choose suffering 
 rather than tell a lie, if in matters which concern ourselves we 
 are meek, if in the hour of loss we are patient, if we protect 
 the weak against the strong, we are following in Christ's steps 
 and preaching as He preached the supremacy of right. If in 
 public life our aim is that of making others true, whether they 
 be true Catholics or true Protestants, true Tories or true Radicals, 
 and of so helping them that they may thank God and not our- 
 selves, we shall preach Christ better than if we made a thousand 
 followers, because we shall have shown charity which seeketh 
 not its own, 
 
"MY WIPE'S TEA-TABLE" ]15 
 
 The method which I commend is slow. They who follow it 
 will be passed in the race by others who use party names and 
 foster in their followers the enthusiasm which belongs to those 
 who thinlv they " are not as others are." They will be passed 
 by Churchmen, by Chapelmen, by Secularists, by Undenomina- 
 tionalists, they will be passed also by those who get for the 
 people what they ask. In the history of the world though, the 
 race has not been to the swift. In the long rim the race remains 
 to those who, hiding themselves, have shown God. Be it then 
 ours to let the world see that God is served for nought and that 
 goodness is a fact. 
 
 The labours in which this concourse of people were 
 engaged were various, ranging from teaching the three R's 
 to the higher mathematics ; from street patrolling to 
 orchestral music ; from a club for dung-sweeping lads to 
 the study of the Bible ; from seed planting to municipal 
 government, the organisations represented numbering not 
 less than 204. And what were the influences which kept 
 this large body of workers together, helping them to ignore 
 differences and unite to pursue progress and promote 
 righteousness 1 
 
 " Hospitality," was my husband's reply when he was 
 asked the question. " St. Jude's and Tojmbee HaU and 
 the Exhibition are all built on my mfe's tea-table." 
 
 Inappropriate as seemed the reply it contained deep 
 truth, for the friendships which were made, first in the 
 tiny, and later in the big, Vicarage di-awing-rooms, were 
 alike the source and the goal of the organisations thej' 
 created. But the word friendship meant something more 
 to my husband than it does to most people. 
 
 It is well to ask ourselves — Do all our orgaiusations represent 
 the friendship of individual and individual ? Does the friend- 
 ship mean soul-relationship ? These are questions by which 
 to test the value of institutions and of intercourse. 
 
 Institutions which are not full of friends are whited sepulchres, 
 and friendships which do not absorb the whole being do not 
 end in making God kno^vn. . . It is for us in closer private 
 communion with God to learn the secrets of human nature, so 
 that we may ofier to omr friends not the stone for which they 
 often ask, but the bread which they need to feed their true life. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 " The only test of real pror/ress is to be found in. the development of the 
 character." 
 
 Claea is a dear child, and I hope the kindness of this unknown friend 
 will not be thrown away. Emily writes very cheerfully and is doing, I 
 trust, better than we at first feared. — Dover, 1869. 
 
 So wi-ote Miss Haddon forty- seven years ago, and I kept 
 the letter because these were the first two girls I ever tried 
 to help — Clara, by paj'ing for her in the httle Training Home ; 
 Emily, by sending her out of the court in Mr. Fremantle's 
 parish where she was getting into bad mischief. It was 
 but for four short terms that, at sixteen, I had the privilege 
 of being a pupil in Miss Haddon' s school. She and S'liss 
 Carrie were great women, and taught much to their girls. 
 Through their eyes I saw the degradation of the workhouse 
 children, and the possibihties of helping girls. 
 
 In Whitechapel the maidens were lawless and rough, 
 but " service " seemed the only channel by which to get 
 them away from the evil environment. So by advertise- 
 ments mistresses were captured, and by many talks girls 
 induced to make new starts. The prehminary duty was to 
 cleanse each one, a duty which Miss Paterson and I per- 
 sonally undertook. But vermin cannot be a negligible 
 incident, and so every girl had to be helped with clothes, 
 which were lent to her until her wages had bought them. 
 Very deUcate financial honour can be found among these 
 Ishmaels. Want of self-control, their chief failing, some- 
 times took dangerous expression. 
 
 Kate Withers was one of the most neglected girls, but 
 she Vi'as so anxious to do better that a good woman who 
 wanted a " help " was persuaded to take her into her service. 
 Is it possible to forget that mistress's visit and her descrip- 
 tion of Kate's seizing the baby by its long clothes and 
 swinging it round her head to throw at its mother ? 
 
 '" Why did you do it ? " said I to the dismissed Kate. 
 
 116 
 
, UNCONTROLLED GIRLS ll7 
 
 " She jest riled me, and the biby was 'andy," was to her 
 an adequate reason. 
 
 Julia Bolton had similar faults, but she only threw a knife 
 at her mistress, which was less important than using the 
 baby as a missile. Clara Madge also appropriated the text 
 " Vengeance is mine," for, her mistress having angered her, 
 she puUed up a loose board in her attic bedroom, laid a fire 
 between the joists, ht the match and left the house. But 
 she forgot that air was necessary, and so her naughty deed 
 became innocuous. Lizzie Webb preferred meals at un- 
 stated hours, direct from the larder and shared with stray 
 cats, "poor hungry dears!" who are multitudinous in 
 the cheap neighbourhoods where needy mistresses live. 
 Rebecca West also transferred to her employer's wardrobe 
 the generous Whitechapel custom of borrowing clothes 
 " when wanted," an annoying misdemeanour not on the 
 Statute book. To no individual can bad language be 
 specially attributed, for in that there was a community of 
 possession. 
 
 " I never heard such words. It was shocking from the 
 lips of anyone, but from a young girl ! " complained an 
 outraged mistress. 
 
 " Oh ! Louisa," I said to the suUen culprit, " you did 
 promise to leave those bad words behind and forget them. 
 What did you say ? " 
 
 " I didn't say nothing special, ma'am, 'deed I didn't — only 
 cheeked her a bit." Thus did standards differ 1 
 
 As girl after girl was befriended her name was entered 
 in a large book, the vellum cover of which Miss Emily 
 Harrison had painted. 
 
 The book is done, dear Mrs. Bamett, though very roughly. The sweet- 
 briar and thyme were chosen for that lovely quahty of theirs of giving out 
 sweetness when they are crushed or bruised. The bee in the centre is for 
 Bamett, and the grain is com, which must fall into the earth before its 
 beautiful new growth in the spring — your girls' stages. Yours heartily, 
 E. H. 
 
 Cheered by such thoughts and the loving help of many 
 friends, page after page of the big book was fiUed. Here 
 are some extracts from the columns appropriated to " pre- 
 vious history." 
 
 Elizabeth Smart is an orphan mth no relations. She was taken in as a 
 baby by Mrs. Thompson, who, though kindly, bore a bad character, and 
 had scorned the marriage ceremony. Of the girl the neighbours spoke 
 as steady and decent but very rough. 
 
118 PAGES FROM "THE GIRL-BOOK" 
 
 Then follow thirty-two entries of action taken for Eliza- 
 beth, for whom eleven places were found, and then the 
 birth of the poor Httle unwanted baby is chronicled. After 
 that more entries speaking of " drink, indifference, and 
 idleness," and still more places and further disappoint- 
 ments, and at last, after she had come down to begging in 
 the streets with a lying card on her breast, the page bears 
 testimony to a " nice mistress " in the country agreeing to 
 take Ehzabeth, " who seems now to care more for the baby." 
 
 Mary Smith lives with her mother in one of the worst courts^ in all East 
 London. Mrs. Smith sells in the streets and has odd jobs. Most tidy in 
 her appearance. 
 
 Forty-nine entries foUow extending over five years. 
 Mistresses speak well of their young servant, and she " hkes 
 service," comes to see me, joins in the country excursions, 
 is confirmed, enjoys Exhibition parties, begins to save, 
 and yet fails. 
 
 "It is not any use, ma'am. I've tried hard, but mother 
 always comes, upsets Missus, speaks something cruel, and 
 I am out again. I shall take to the matches or the rope 
 walk." So the weary round went on. Girl after girl Hfted, 
 hopeful, progressing, only to be dragged back by worthless 
 relations. 
 
 It would be hbeUous on East London to give the impres- 
 sion that all mothers dragged their daughters down. Many 
 and many an excellent parent brought her girl to get a 
 place " right out of the neighbourhood, please, ladies," 
 and the frugahty, the dihgence, the self-respect, and un- 
 wavering love exhibited in such homes, often consisting 
 only of two rooms, left one humble and amazed. It was 
 these young servants who, as years went on, banded them- 
 selves together to aid " by adoption and grace " other and 
 younger girls who in the courts and alleys wanted the 
 guiding hand of their elder peers. The same system has 
 just been adopted by Sir Robert Baden Powell for his 
 scouts, to help the boys who have become naughtier by 
 war conditions. 
 
 Sometimes the circumstances made it necessary to kidnap 
 a girl, and immediately. Louisa Foster was such a case. 
 Living with her mother in a disorderly house, she was fright- 
 ened into revolt when she understood what was expected 
 of her, and came hurriedly to " the lady round by the 
 
 1 The court where lived some of the victims of the notorious murders. 
 
MR. BARNETT ON PERSISTENT SERVICE 119 
 
 Church." We gave her shelter, and at 6.30 the next day my 
 husband took her into the country to a place of safety. 
 It was a cold misty November morning, and I can still see 
 his spare figure walking by the side of the ragged tawdry 
 girl, courteously guiding her across the dirty street, and 
 talking briskly to cheer her. Poor Louisa ! Her ups and 
 downs would fill a chapter, but the good conquered, and 
 kidnapping succeeded. What Mr. Barnett thought of the 
 work he told in St. Jude's Report : 
 
 1892. — There can hardly be better work than that done 
 by the ladies who see the friendless girls, by sympathy wiu 
 their confidence, and then by wise advice or strong action get 
 them sometimes the training they need, sometimes the place. . . 
 In any case the child has henceforth a woman friend, one who 
 is sought in times of trouble and joy, and will not only do things 
 for her, but be to her a type of womanhood. Those who know 
 how many young girls are living in narrow homes, with no outlet 
 but the streets, with no pleasure but in their sights, will recog- 
 nise the importance of these ladies' work. It is want of thought 
 which makes the care of a friendless girl seem a duller duty 
 than the rescue of a fallen one. . . There may not be excite- 
 ment about such work, but there is the persistent service, 
 which perhaps coimts far more than the sudden sacrifice. It 
 is not, however, possible for one human being to have an nn- 
 limited number of friends. Om- Lord Himself took only twelve. 
 
 When the 156 pages of my painted book were filled and 
 yet another added to it. Miss Townsend joined me. Of her 
 advent she has written : 
 
 It was in 1877 that I first saw Mr. Barnett, who had been Vicar of St. 
 Jude's for four years. I was applying for the post of Secretary to the 
 newly formed Metropolitan Association for Befriending Young Servants, 
 and I had been summoned before the Committee, a dread ordeal to a very 
 shy and reserved young woman. I remember none of the Committee 
 except the Chairman, a clergyman with a pale face framed in those days 
 in soft brown hair and beard, who had the kindest eyes I ever saw, and 
 whose gentle voice and courteous manner soon put me at my ease. I did 
 not get the post, but after the interview the clergyman made himself 
 known as Mr. Barnett and asked me if I would go and see his wife in White- 
 chapel, which I gladly promised to do. Of her I had heard from my 
 brother, who had met the Vicar and his wife at a party and told me he 
 thought I should like Mrs. Barnett. " She reads Aristotle, and has a dog 
 she calls ' One.' " I did not feel particularly drawn to so learned a lady, 
 although curious to see her, but I may say without offence that she com- 
 pletely disappointed my expectations as a student of either Aristotle or 
 Pythagoras, and that " One " turned out to be a mischievous little dog 
 whose other name was as mischievously called Barnett. 
 
 I duly called on Mrs. Barnett and was captured at once by the bright, 
 
120 THE M.A.B.Y.S. IN WHITECHAPEL 
 
 piquante, fascinating personality, which was to inspire and refresh my life 
 for many a long year to come. I never forget the picture she made in her 
 somewhat unusual dress — what we called " aesthetic " in those days — her 
 pretty girl-secretary, still her closest friend, bending over the back of 
 her chair. We arranged then and there that I should join Mrs. Barnett in 
 her work for girls in Whitechapel. She told me long afterwards that when 
 she left me for a moment to speak to Mr. Bamett in his study, she said to 
 him, " I think she will do the work very well, but I am not sure if I shall 
 like her ! " The doubt, I hope and believe, proved groundless. Indeed 
 my wonder grew to be why they both liked me so much ! 
 
 Of the strength of my affection for them I cannot trust myself to speak. 
 Never were there truer, wiser, more understanding friends. . . I profited 
 by the extraordinary faculty they both had for bringing people together 
 and welding them into groups bound by common aims and aspirations, 
 and very soon a group of ladies, young and ardent, gathered round us, each 
 as the years went on caring for a number of poor girls to whom she was 
 guide, example, and support. Ah ! what good times they are to look 
 back upon, when day by day in our little room at 28, Commercial Street, 
 our own girls came to us confident in the hope that we would and could help 
 them on their steep and often erring way. Those of us who have lived to 
 grow old together have a bond of union nothing could ever break. 
 
 Besides the life of the " office," as we called it, I was privileged to share 
 in the life of the Vicarage and learned to love and revere the Vicar above 
 all men. I can remember no occasion in all the years of our intercourse 
 when he fell short of my conception of him as the best and wisest of men. 
 
 Quickly ladies offered service, and indeed the need was 
 great. In the first year 192 girls were placed out, and 
 when we became the Whitechapel branch of the Metropohtan 
 Association for Befriending Young Servants, we also took 
 responsibility for some of the children reared in the work- 
 house schools. So the organisation grew, and, fearful lest 
 friendship should be lost in ofificiaKsm, we decided to 
 hand each year's girls — 200 — to two ladies who would be 
 responsible for befriending them. The plan worked well. 
 The ladies kept in personal touch with their girls, and 
 Miss Townsend was always there to pour out wisdom, 
 make suggestions, and to help the girls to reahse that they 
 were part of a whole combined to strive for righteousness. 
 To this end there were schoolroom meetings, days in the 
 country. Exhibition parties, gatherings which included the 
 girls' mothers, and annually a united service in the Church, 
 to which the mistresses, as well as their young servants, 
 were invited. Very simple were Mr. Barnett's sermons, 
 dehvered with great earnestness, for the sight of the host 
 of young girls, so readily influenced and so influential, 
 many of whom had been raised from terrible conditions, 
 moved him deeply. To the employers he gave public 
 recognition, for as the years went on there arose a splendid 
 
POWER OF FRIENDSHIP 121 
 
 body of mistresses who in effect said, " We are too hard- 
 worked and too hard-up to give to the poor, but we will 
 do our best for the girl you send to us." It only needs 
 to be the head of a household to reahse the value and 
 magnitude of such charity. Of these meetings my husband 
 wrote : 
 
 1883. — It is a gladdening sight when in oiu- schoolroom Miss 
 Douglas ToA^Tisend and llrs. Barnett are surrounded by their 
 girl servant-friends. It is a sight to assure one of the power 
 of friendship, its power to hold wayward natures to dull duties, 
 and to hft the weary into gladness. 
 
 1884. — With much experience of many societies, I am dis- 
 posed to say that there is none whose work is so admirable. 
 Its object, being to provide not money, but a friend, is high ; 
 and its method, being the personal service of its members, is 
 effective. The tale of its work can never be written, because 
 it is written in the experience of those who through " affection 
 have found the wider basis for life." 
 
 We also tried to reach our girls, the number of whom in 
 1889 was 2,350, for whom 512 places had been found in 
 that year, by the printed as well as the spoken word, and 
 before me lie some admirable circular letters. One on 
 confirmation, another on purity, a third on saving, the 
 beginning and the ending of each left blank for the girl's 
 name and her friend's signature. Wonderful were the 
 experiences with the girls, ranging from attempted suicide 
 to pilfering, from mania to late rising, from elopement 
 to dish- breaking, and interwoven with many, very many, 
 of the offences was the ever-puzzhng sex relationship. 
 
 Most of the ladies who offered indefinite helpfulness 
 were sent to work at the " office " to enable Miss Townsend 
 to test their tastes and capacities and suggest to me the 
 best sphere for their work. In the twenty years their 
 number became considerable, all united with mistresses and 
 girls by one tie, admiration and affection for her. Its 
 expressions were often amusing and characteristic. Indeed 
 I have seen her when she has come to say "good-bye" after 
 a long day's work, embarrassed by her gifts. A haddock, 
 a kettle-holder, a bundle of rhubarb, a wool mat, watercress, 
 and "a present from Southend" cup — all so hopelessly 
 inappropriate but tendered " please. Miss, -with my best 
 love." 
 
 Side by side with the organisation to get girls out of 
 the neighbourhood there existed the parish machinery to 
 
 I— 10 
 
122 CLUBS AND GUILDS FOR GIRLS 
 
 influence them aright. A leaflet, issued when our friends 
 Mr. and Mrs. Francis Buxton turned their house for three 
 days into a salesroom, said : 
 
 Many women would like to help girls of East London, if they could hope 
 by such help to sweeten and raise character. 
 
 Connected with St. Jude's Parish helpful efforts are being made, every 
 effort being purposely kept within small limits, so that each girl, her needs 
 and aspirations, may be known, helped, and strengthened. 
 
 A GiELs' Club, where working girls meet every evening under the care 
 of different ladies, who give their time to amuse, teach, and guide the 
 members. 
 
 An Evening Home, where girls find a welcome after the close of their 
 long day's work, in match or jam factories, rope walks, or at sack making. 
 
 A Band of Whitb and Gold and A Guild oi' Hope and Pity for 
 children who need to be lovingly taught the virtues of purity and honesty, 
 temperance and mercy. 
 
 The St. Jude's Guild for uniting and keeping together the elder girls 
 after they leave school. 
 
 The Daisy Guild for working girls and servants, who each do something 
 to purify life, and help the weak or fallen. 
 
 A Gymnasium,^ to which girls go and get physical exercise. All day 
 rough, strong girls work in factories, their occupation often employing 
 their hands only. Their homes are small and crowded, and their work- 
 hours being over, they have only the streets for exercise and amusement. 
 The rough games there played tempt them to drink in the pubUc-houses, 
 and thence often to ruin. There are also two Giels' Homes, where sixteen 
 girls are received, and scolded and loved into training. 
 
 In reference to these undertakings the Vicar wrote : 
 
 1888. — They all represent means by which girls are helped 
 over the bridge which divides the period of obedience from the 
 period of responsibility. They are worked by individuals who 
 are unfailing in effort and suggestion. To sing, to play, to 
 listen to lectures, to practise in a gymnasium, the girls and 
 children are every week gathered. Of results it is not possible 
 to judge. It is enough that minds are healthily occupied and 
 that they learn how neglect means loss. . . Athletics are as 
 important for giving occupation for thought as exercise for the 
 limbs, and games are as good as school for developing self- 
 respect. 
 
 Of one of the clubs he spoke in his letter to Mr. Frank 
 Barnett : 
 
 1884. — The event of this week was an opening of a Girls' 
 Club on the democratic principle in an esthetic room under 
 
 1 Supplied by Mr. James Brown, who lent a large floor of his warehouse 
 in Bucks Bow and himself met the girls twice a week and fathered them 
 and their Club. 
 
MENTALLY DEFICIENT GIRLS 123 
 
 scientific guidance. The "JVIissus" opened it on Monday, and 
 all has gone well. 
 
 The genesis of another club for factory girls Miss 
 Townsend has described : 
 
 The Canon and I were looking out of the Lodge drawing-room window 
 one drizzluig day and noticed the groups of girls leanmg against the door of 
 the tobacconist's opposite, chaffing or being ohaiied by the passing men, 
 and the Canon said : 
 
 " How good it would be to give those girls a place to eat their dinners 
 in and rest afterwards ! " We talked it over and I called on all the masters 
 to see how far they would help. They were favourable though not enthusi- 
 astic, and one or two of them gave a little money to start it. It was housed 
 in Classroom A in Toynbee. Mrs. Clark came to cook any food they 
 brought and sell cups of tea, and I got ladies to play the piano for the girls 
 to dance, which they enjoyed hugely. After Miss Bourdillon took charge, 
 the girls had the use of the Hall, and she got friends to give them useful 
 talks, or music as they rested after their dinners. They paid Id. a week, 
 and the club still runs successfully. 
 
 One of the two homes mentioned in the leaflet was for 
 the feeble-minded : 
 
 1887. — The Home for Day Servants has been opened at 
 Highbury. It is intended as a means by which girls deficient 
 in the qualities necessary for the battle of life may earn a hving 
 under kindly care. The opening of the house realises a hope 
 nourished by Mrs. Barnett and Miss Townsend during the last 
 ten years. 
 
 It was heart-breaking to hear the uncontrolled laughter 
 of the mentally deficient as they wandered aimlessly in the 
 streets or stood idly in the courts. It was worse still to 
 hear the cruel merriment of those who tormented them, to 
 see their vacant faces in the Lock ward beds, to reahse 
 their inane capacity for joy or sorrow. And yet one was 
 impotent. If some were induced to enter the workhouse, 
 they had the right to take their discharge, and often did 
 so with women fiends who offered to " take care " of them. 
 Then the pathos of their affection and dependence broke 
 one down. How could one leave one's crippled sisters 
 in the midst of the battlefield to the tender mercy of the 
 devils ? A sanctuary for protection — a covert where, 
 free from fear, character could awaken — cried out for birth, 
 but who was to conduct it ? At last Miss Jennings offered 
 to five with twelve girls, and teach a matron. It would 
 require the pen of a Mrs. Ewing to tell her ways of develop- 
 ing conscience, self-respect, and love in those poor maimed 
 
124 POOR-LAW SCHOOLS 
 
 creatures ; but of the sole punishment which she permitted 
 I must speak. It was to have no milk in the tea. This 
 she would see when she came in to bless the food. " Was it 
 effective ? " will be asked. Girls have scalded themselves 
 in their haste to swallow the hot transparent Uquid before 
 she saw it. But hers was the force of the holy spirit of 
 gentleness. 
 
 Mr. Ernest Hart, whom I told about these haK-witted 
 girls during our long rides, and whose sympathy was ever 
 alert for the pitiable, used the organisation of the British 
 Medical Association to obtain statistics and facts, and then 
 his position in the Press to arouse public interest in a neglected 
 class, which is now abundantly aided by the municipahties 
 and the charitable. 
 
 In 1874 Mr. Barnett had, in virtue of his position as a 
 Guardian, taken a seat on the Board of Management of the 
 large residential schools for pauper children. A year or 
 two later we became convinced that the work needed a 
 woman more than a man, and I was accordingly appointed 
 by the Local Government Board as a nominated Manager 
 of the District Schools at Forest Gate. 
 
 1882. — iVirs. Barnett still sits as Manager of the District 
 Schools and has tried to improve the condition of the girls. 
 . . . Two years ago she opened a Cottage Home in which they 
 spend three months before going into service. It is furnished 
 as an ordinary dwellmg-house, three or four girls only being 
 taken at a time. As they work under the matron, her old 
 nurse, they not only get familiar with the use of furniture and 
 utensils, with the ways and habits of the world, but they also 
 get the sense of individual care and love. It has been very 
 delightful to see the cold manner thawing, the sullen temper 
 brightening under the genial and interesting life of the cottage. 
 It is good, too, to know how they write freely from their places, 
 telling of their difficulties and asking help. Their love seems 
 to have been stored during the school years to be laid at the 
 feet of the first who care for their individual selves. Having 
 been loved in the lump, the one who loves them individually 
 discovers them, as it were, to themselves. 
 
 The httle Home was founded on friendship, for when 
 in 1879 Leonard Montefiore left us mourning his loss, it was 
 but another gUmpse into his surprising character to find 
 he had wished by liis wiU that we should each be £50 the 
 richer. He so loved making joy for children, that it seemed 
 fitting to use his money to start a gladder life for pauper 
 
HARROW COTTAGE HOME 125 
 
 girls, so with it we furniaiied Harrow Cottage,' facing the 
 White Stone Pond, Hampstead Heath. There we placed 
 old Nurse and little Fanny who hated noisy, dirty White- 
 chapel. Between them they trained the girls, and we 
 went up every week to spend restful Fridays — " Sabbaths." 
 Our neighbour Miss Lister housed the pony, who intro- 
 duced us to the beautiful Hertfordshire country, and the 
 girls to unimagined dehghts. 
 
 Before state-supported children could be received into 
 any Home, however small, it had to be certified. In 
 writing about this matter Dr. Bridges, the Poor Law in- 
 spector, said : 
 
 Dec. 21st, 1880. — I am more and more convinced of the unfitness of these 
 big schools, even when managed as "vvell as Anerley or Forest Gate for girls. 
 But the only remedy soems to be in the immense multiplication of such 
 small homes as you are proposing. 
 
 The ignorance of the girls reared in the barrack schools 
 had to be experienced to be beheved. Having walked out 
 but seldom, and then only \vith hundreds of others, they 
 had never shopped, and so they visited the greengrocer for 
 a reel of cotton, went to the pubhc-house to buy a copy of 
 Punch, dropped the stamps loose in the letter-box, and 
 expressed astonishment at seeing a bridge. Having hved 
 only in an institution warmed by hot-water pipes and lit 
 by gas, they did not know the uses of a fire, left the candle 
 burning because " the tap to turn it off " could not be 
 found, and melted the silver teapot by leaving it in an 
 over-hot oven. Old Nurse, Mrs. Moore, took each into her 
 large heart, and kissed and scolded and taught and 
 reproved them aU continuously. Most of them loved her 
 with the whole of their naughty selves, but when their 
 dehnquencies were beyond her influence, I had to take 
 action. Anxious to promote self-government, I asked the 
 girls to choose their OAvn punishments, and quaint they 
 often were, and included going without sugar, getting up 
 earher, not taking the dog for walks, and the " dear Vicar " 
 being told of their wrong- doings. But none surprised me 
 so much as "an hour's gardening " being selected, for that 
 I had hitherto awarded as a treat ! The repentance of 
 the children was real, and sometimes very touching. For 
 the first time their faults had given pain to someone who 
 cared because they had done wrong, not because they had 
 
 1 Later bought by Mr, Thomas Barrett, and pulled down when he 
 built his house. 
 
126 MRS. MOORE, " OLD NURSE " 
 
 annoyed their elders. I recall going up one night from 
 Whitechapel and finding my pincushion transcribed in pins 
 with the words " Forgive me, Catherine." What could one 
 say to such a penitent ? Or how be able to use one's pins ? 
 In those days I reared dogs, poodles and coUies, and on 
 them and the cat the girls lavished their starved affections 
 — an excellent educational influence. 
 
 1885. — I hope — wrote one girl — Nigger, the dear old pet, is well, also 
 Mr. Bamett. 
 
 1887. — WiU you -WTite and let me know how Arab is since I went away ? 
 Who washes and combs her now ? 
 
 1888. — I went on Sunday evening to Christ Church with dear Mrs. Moore 
 she is our mother. I always call her that. I do like living near Mrs. Moore ; 
 poor old Russell [the cat] will not look at me he does not seem to know me 
 with my hat on but on Sunday I went to the cottage to tea and poor Russell 
 would not let me wash the plates and other things he made such a fuss. 
 
 From the Cottage the girls were sent to service, and then 
 began the difficulties. In Mrs. Nassau Senior's Report to 
 the Local Government Board she mentions the case of a 
 girl who was sent by the Guardians to service in a prison 
 where her duties were to scrub the ceUs. Though this was 
 ten years before the date of which I am writing, there was 
 then — 1880 — great need to obtain a better class of mistress 
 for those friendless girls. When found, they, their famiUes, 
 and all their affairs were taken into Mrs. Moore's sympathy. 
 
 " Please, dear, do get Mrs. A.'s son a new situation. He 
 has only just taken to drink and he can be saved." 
 
 " Mrs. B. can't find nice cheap rooms at Margate. Don't 
 you know someone there ? " 
 
 " Mrs. C. says her husband can pull round his business if 
 he has £50 now. Will j'ou do something about it ? She is 
 so good to Juha. It is a pity for the girl to lose her place." 
 
 But to old Nurse's surprise, we hardened our hearts and 
 dealt only mth the troubles of the girls. Every Sunday all 
 who could came to tea, and they often wrote to us. 
 
 Dear Madam, — My mistress sent me to the Cottage with my bad pain 
 and Mrs. Hart was there and she said that it was pruicy and then I was a 
 great trouble to Mrs. Moore because she put mustard plasters to my side. 
 
 I do hope the change will make you feel strong and also the dear Vicar. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Baenett, — I felt so happy on Monday happier than I ever 
 was in my life. . . I got home a little after ten. I have mended the rent 
 in my dress. I cannot express my gratitude to you for I do not know 
 what to say. I am not so affectionate I am afraid as Susan for there are 
 very few in the world as ever touched my heart but when it is once touched 
 
LETTERS FROM AND TO GIRLS 127 
 
 no one could turn it for I have been brought up with no one in the world 
 to really care for me and perhaps that as made mc careless, you may 
 think me ignorant for whenever you speak to mc it is either yes or no or 
 perhaps no answer at all but it is not exactly ignorance either but I feel 
 I cannot answer so you must forgive me for I am afraid you might think 
 me ungrateful but I am far from that for you save me from ruin which is 
 enough to have my Uf elong gratitude, and I hope I will never give you cause 
 to regret taking me by the hand so goodbye, and God bless you. Service 
 is hke a new world, but I would rather be at the Cottage please. 
 
 Your ever obedient servant, A. B. 
 
 Sometimes the girls ran away from their places, and 
 those were days of great anxiety. 
 
 To F. O. B. — I have my wife laid up with bronchitis. The fact 
 overwhelms all else for me, and it will I know for you. It all 
 comes from worry, and she is not to be blamed because folks 
 who love her get troublesome and give her the privilege of 
 bearing their burdens. Two or three such folks have been 
 in difficulties, and she has had them on her heart till her nerves 
 could not bear the strain and so she caught cold. It is a pity, 
 because the weather is divine, and we might have had rare 
 enjoyment to-day. She is also much distressed about one of 
 the Cottage girls who has run away from her place or has been 
 stolen.^ We can get no trace and are very troubled. How easy 
 it is to injure the orphan even in our protected age ! 
 
 Occasionally when very naughty they did not come to 
 see us. To one who kept away from me when I was ill 
 Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 St. Jxjde's Vicarage, Whitechapel, May &ih, 1882. 
 
 Dbab Jane, — I am so very glad you made up your mind to do 
 the hard thing. I quite understand why you did not come 
 to Mrs. Barnett, but you did not quite understand my meaning. 
 I want you and she wants you to be brave and independent ; 
 to behave as you have behaved this week in going back to your 
 mistress. I don't want you to pain Mrs. Barnett, and you 
 did give her real pain last week. When the news came that 
 you had left your place, she became very anxious, could not 
 sleep, and sent off messengers to different places. The anxiety 
 made her tired. You did not think that your not coming 
 would tire her more than if you had come, did you ? Don't 
 you see that she is very fond of you, that she is willmg to work 
 for you, that she gets anxious lest any harm should happen 
 to you 1 Think of this, then you won't trouble her to get new 
 places for you and you certainly won't trouble her by hiduig 
 and not commg to her when you really want her. It would 
 
 1 That girl was our first experience of the White Slave Traffic. She 
 was stolen, and for years we failed to find her ; when we did, she was dying 
 from the effects of her life. 
 
128 GIRLS EMIGRATE TO AUSTRALIA 
 
 be to her the greatest pain of all, if she thought you would not 
 come to her in your sorrow and trial. 
 
 Now, dear Jane, I hope you will think and understand. I 
 have not shown Mrs. Barnett this letter. It is your and my 
 secret, let us see that it bears good fruit. 
 
 Truly yours, Saml. A Baenett.^ 
 
 In 1885 the difficulties with the girls' relations made us 
 encourage some to emigrate. Fourteen elected to go, and 
 Perth, Western Australia, was the place decided on. The 
 Government helped, outfits were bought, special voyage 
 arrangements made, and a Uniting Guild formed. The 
 evening before sailing they aU came to Whitechapel for a 
 last service in St. Jude's. It was very affecting, and the 
 Church was thronged to ask God's blessing on the young 
 Kves in a new country. To Mr. Barnett' s sermon they 
 Kstened with glad attention, for had he not prepared them 
 all for confirmation, and a dozen times wrestled with their 
 sullen tempers or wilful ways ? For years letters came, and 
 when they married little " Henriettas " and " Marys " 
 kept Cottage memories ahve, and though I have never 
 heard of one whose affection for Mr. Barnett transcended 
 the objection to his first name, yet I know of one little 
 "Augustus"^ caUed after him, and several "Wadhams." 
 The following letter was from one of the most " difficult" 
 of the Cottage girls, over whose callousness we had often 
 grieved. 
 
 Perth, Austbalia, June 20th, 1913. 
 
 Deab Madam, — In reading to-day's issue of West Australian I was 
 surprised to see Canon Barnett had gone. . . He is indeed a grievous 
 loss to the poor and needy to whom he devoted himself unsparingly. His 
 life was one of the noblest and most beautiful. 
 
 After all this lapse of time I feel it a very great privilege to have known 
 him. The best lessons of my life were taught by him and yourseU. I 
 have often had reason to thank God for the training I received at the 
 Cottage. 
 
 I pray that He will accord you the strength and comfort which He 
 alone can give when we are sorely tried and lonely, and all seems dark 
 around us. 
 
 I remain, most respectfully yours, E. P. 
 
 1 This letter was given to me many years after it was written. 
 
 2 Now fighting in the Australian Contingent. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 " A man's home should be fit to be the dwelling-place of his most hirjh." 
 
 In 1875 the Guardians had sent a petition to ParHament 
 showing that the death-rate in that portion of Whitechapel 
 which inchided our parish was 40 in 1,000, and that 80 per 
 cent, of the paupers of the district came from the condemned 
 houses. " If," MTote my husband — 
 
 the gang of thieves and idlers who inhabit this quarter could 
 be scattered, and good houses built, the boon would be im- 
 mense ; at present most of the rooms are what are called 
 " furnished," i.e. j^rovided with a sack of hay, a chair and a 
 table, and let at eightpence a night. 
 
 The problem was a threefold one. First, to get the 
 houses condemned by the medical officer ; secondly, to 
 induce the authorities to act on the condemnation and 
 demolish them; thirdly, to find wealthy philanthropic or 
 building companies who would buy the land and erect 
 decent dwellings. The medical officer, Dr. Liddell, became 
 our friend, and his zeal was only equalled by his knowledge. 
 But to obtain practical results from his condemnations was 
 another matter. 
 
 1876. Alley, which is justly described as one of the 
 
 worst courts in London, and in which each inhabitant has only 
 four square yards of space, and from which fever is never absent, 
 has been three times condenmed by the medical officer as unfit 
 for habitation, but still remains untouched. 
 
 Three years later Mr. Barnett reported : 
 
 The houses condenuied under the Artisans' Dwellings Act 
 still exist to defy every effort made to improve their inmates. 
 It is unfortunate that the Metropolitan Board commenced a 
 work it has been unable to perform. The expectancy of early 
 removal makes landlords unwilling to spend money on necessary 
 repairs, and tenants unwilling, by leaving, to miss the chance 
 
 129 
 
130 INSANITARY HOUSES 
 
 of compensation. The result is disastrous, and one can have 
 little hope of improvement. A large piece of ground lately 
 cleared by the Board in another part of Whitechapel is offered 
 at a price so high as to make the erection of artisans' dwellings 
 impossible for builders expecting a fair return for their money. 
 The community must be content to lose money by letting the 
 ground at a lower rate. It is a form of relief which will not 
 demoralise the poor and which perhaps is due to them on account 
 of the neglect which has allowed such hovels to exist so long. 
 The Guardians have appealed during this year to the Metro- 
 politan Board, but got only the answer that the ground already 
 cleared must first be let. 
 
 Ruinous and insanitary as were the houses, yet many of 
 them fetched nine shillings a week. That so high a rent 
 could be paid for such hovels roused an enthusiasm for 
 housing reform. As Mr. Barnett kept many of the papers 
 on the entangled negotiations, it is possible to live again 
 with the men and women who cared so much and worked 
 so hard. Before me he bundles of letters from Miss Octavia 
 Hill, Mr. EUjah Hoole, architect, Mr. W. M. Shaen, soUcitor, 
 Mr. Charles Mitchell, counsel, Mr. A. G. Crowder, Miss Emma 
 Cons, Mr. James Parsons, Mr. Edward Bond, Mr. Edward 
 Spender, Mr. Ered Myers, Mr. Brown Clayton, besides 
 others, who gave abundant service without remuneration. 
 Some of IMiss Octavia' s letters will be helpful to those who 
 are tempted " to pass by on the other side " when distasteful 
 difficulties he in the path. 
 
 January Wh, 1874. — Dearest Yetta, — So much love and thanks for 
 your New Year's greetmg which I found awaiting me here. It was almost 
 too much for me. How could you know so well just what I wanted said ? 
 
 But now I write mainly to say that I am very delighted about the hope 
 of the houses. Will you please use your own discretion as to the matter ? 
 Only you on the spot can decide how far to go. There need be no want of 
 money if the properties will pay. . . If there is time to ask me whether 
 the houses will pay before making the oiler, I must know : 
 
 1st, Gross rental when all rooms are let. 
 
 2nd, Amount of vestry rate, water rate, assessment. 
 
 3rd, Amount of rent payable on any part which is leasehold. 
 
 4th, Length of lease of any such part. 
 
 Any facts about the state of repair or necessary improvements would 
 help. You, of course, alone can judge whether the purchase is one which 
 would be really helpful in the district. I am by no means anxious to have 
 the calculations sent to me to do if you have to act in a hurry, or see your 
 way quite clearly. . . 
 
 How nice it will be to come to you on Thursday night. You must 
 expect a beaten soldier after a battle. I shall come straight from a meeting 
 in which I expect to lose all that so far has seemed essential to our success. 
 
PURCHASE OF BAD PROPERTY 131 
 
 Jiihj 1.2th, 1874. — Deak Mr. ]^ap.nbtt, — I don't feel inclined to buy at 
 £l,2u0 what Cable values at £Sli'0, but will look more narrowly into the 
 figures, and visit the houses to see what I think of the chance of their 
 lasting in any state we should think tolerable till they recoup us for all 
 spent in excess of value of ground. I find the difhculties of management 
 in Whiteehapel greater than ever I anticipated, property and people being 
 equall}' impossible to deal with so far in any satisfactory way. . . I shall 
 never swerve from my object of extending there, or lose heart, or falter 
 in determined preparation for fresh work, but I don't see my way to it at 
 this moment, and I should only close with a very good offer for the sake 
 of the future. 
 
 April 1st, 1877. — My dearest Ybtta, — I have no news of Wentworth 
 Street, nor of Mile End Road. I grow impatient about the former, but as 
 to the latter it is perhaps as well it should be in abej^ance for awhUe,^ as we 
 have no force to turn on to it just now. You have helped me very much, 
 dear. My trust in you in important and singularly rare ways is absolute, 
 and it is the greatest blessing to me that it can be. I really don't know 
 sometimes what I should do if I didn't. How strangely we depend on one 
 another's help, now this way, and now that, don't we ? 
 
 " There need be no want of money," wrote Miss EQll, " if 
 the property will pay," but sometimes there was no hope 
 that it could be made to pay. The deeds were non-existent, 
 the structure rotten, the reputation infamous. A sketch 
 by Miss Aime Thackeray of a group of three of such houses 
 is inserted because they cost me my jewels and cemented 
 a friendship. They were occupied by women hving shameful 
 hves from whom large rents were demanded by a disreput- 
 able man, who when challenged could produce no title 
 but his possession for a long period. Those were the days 
 before the " Married Woman's Property Act," when wives 
 and husbands ahke were insulted by mai-riage settlements 
 which placed a woman's property in the hands of trustees. 
 Such had been my fate, but I possessed inherited jewels, 
 and Mr. Edward Bond helpfuUy agreed to pay half the cost 
 of the alley. So we bought the rickety dweULngs, gave its 
 degraded inhabitants the chance of reform before turning 
 them out, tidied up the property, and used its rents to the 
 day of its final destruction for the redemption of such girls. 
 Later we gave the land towards the tennis-court of Toynbee 
 HaU, and as the Canon and I used to hsten to the happy 
 sounds of games, and recalled the memories of its iniquitous 
 uses in the past and our struggles to obtain it, we sUently 
 thanked God. The piece of land adjoining this title-less 
 
 1 " In abeyance for a while," Miss Octavia writes in 1877, and now, 
 1917, that splendid piece of street space so capable of being made into 
 a tree-lined boulevard with resting-comer-places for the weary and play- 
 ing-spaces for the vigorous is still called deservedly " Mile End Waste." 
 
132 CHOICE OF TENANTS 
 
 bit was then purchased by Mr. A. G. Crowder, and on it he 
 erected a block of model dweUings. 
 
 1876. — The tenements will be ready in June and will accom- 
 modate about fifty families at an average rent of 25. 6d. a room. 
 They will be imder careful supervision, and we may expect 
 that fifty families living respectably will have a great missionary 
 power in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Vividly do I recall a walk that my husband and I took at 
 Hampstead for the purpose of deciding whom we should 
 admit to the new houses. Up and down the Spaniards 
 Road, at that time both quiet and beautiful, we walked, 
 trying to see a principle for guidance. At last we decided 
 that if we were to admit any applicants from our parish, 
 all we could demand was that the new tenants should not 
 earn their living by vice. Those occasionally vicious, 
 drunken, or lawless we had to accept, and only draw the line 
 when sin was their stock-in-trade. My husband's moderate 
 words as he reported Miss Octavia's or other friend's pur- 
 chases but ill represent the joy with which he saw the 
 changes made. 
 
 1877. — Four houses in Wentworth Street, which, because of 
 the notoriously bad character of the inhabitants, have always 
 given much trouble, and Avhich on account of some legal techni- 
 cality could not be closed as immorally conducted houses, have 
 been bought by one of our friends. They are now put in good 
 repair, inhabited by respectable tenants, and are as strong on 
 the side of order as formerly on that of disorder. 
 
 Two years later he wrote : 
 
 1879. — It is pleasant to report progress. About 1,000 people 
 are now living in houses which are under the control of those 
 whose object is their real good. Mistakes may be made and 
 their actions misunderstood, but the fact that those who own 
 this property are moved by a desire to be helpful rather than 
 to make a profit must have a distinct influence. . . The rents 
 are collected by eight ladies who spend two days a week among 
 their tenants. Punctual payment is enforced, chiefly because 
 of the element of order and regularity it introduces into families, 
 the cause of whose trouble is generally disorder. Most of the 
 property pays the owners interest at the rate of 5 per cent. 
 
 Of the work of the ladies the following letter from Mr. 
 Oscar Tottie throws a hght. 
 
l^.^l 
 
 ? r 
 
 A 
 i 
 
 New Couet. Whitechapel, 1873. 
 
 I. 132] 
 
LADY RENT COLLECTORS 133 
 
 January 2'dth, 1878. — A few words I must write at the risk of troubling 
 you. It was a revelation to nie — my journey with Miss Johns about the 
 houses this afternoon. She told me and showed me all in the kindest, 
 quietest manner possible with the courtesy of a lady, for which 1 thank 
 you and her. We met also another lady with beautiful hair and a fair 
 open face. The sight and contact of such must be to the poor a " vision 
 of deliglit "" every week, like primroses in spiing to us.' 
 
 Every week these " visions of delight " met us and the 
 parochial staff, not only to talk over the people under their 
 care, but to get to know and thereby sustain each other. 
 What fun we used to have amid all the difficulties ! Once 
 it was reported that two thieves had been overheard through 
 the thin rotten walls, concocting how they were to rob Miss 
 Busk of her rent-bag, watch, and chatelaine, and as she was 
 six feet high, and they the usual size of pitiable haK-fed 
 wasters, the method of procedure cost them much conversa- 
 tion, and us also ! For how was she to do as usual her day's 
 work •with this knowledge within her, and show the con- 
 fidence in the people she did not feel ? However, she was as 
 brave and buoyant as she was big, and she managed somehow. 
 
 Another time a huge half-witted youth became alarmingly 
 enamoured of his mother's " rent-lady," and waylaid her 
 with offerings of his pathetic devotion which included his 
 best blocks of bath brick — which he hawked — bits of country 
 green-stuff he tramped to fetch, and a lark he had trapped. 
 
 On other occasions desperately difficult situations had to 
 be met. Drunkenness, immorahty, dishonest withholding 
 of the rent, starvation, cruelty to children, " away from 
 'ome" — which meant prison — were not occasional but 
 frequent incidents among the tenants. And the difficulty 
 was ever the eternal one of the mixture of good and evil : 
 the wife so noble, the man so base ; the woman drunken, 
 the man industrious ; the old couple worthy of aU respect, 
 the younger members of the family disreputable. 
 
 " I see," said one lady, " your strength is that you always 
 have the baihff behind you." 
 
 "Certainly," replied my husband; "the foundation on 
 which the Gospel rests is the Law." 
 
 So the influences of the inexorable " thou must " acted, 
 
 1 Mr. Oscar Tottie is no longer here to help this sad world, but that 
 he did it effectually while he was working in our parish I received evidence 
 only the other day by a letter from a happy wife and respected mother, 
 whom, when a child of eleven, he kidnapped from a house of ill fame, and 
 sent to be boarded out in the country. Her mother in revenfe broke 
 the Vicarage windows, but that was a gain, as the fear of the r'olicc tor 
 that act acted as a lever for the child's good. 
 
134 DELAY OF MUNICIPAL ACTION 
 
 and the necessary weekly visit, whether the lady wanted to 
 pay it or the tenant to receive it, had many results as friend- 
 ships grew, and suspicion of motives changed to certainty 
 that only good was meant. 
 
 Morally valuable as was the purchase of tumbledown 
 property, the larger problem of the demolition and re- 
 building of the main portion of the parish proceeded very 
 slowly. Mr. Barnett used every force he could arouse. 
 He worked unremittingly and fired with his energy all he 
 came across. My brother-in-law, Mr. Ernest Hart, the 
 editor of The British Medical JouttuiI and The Sanitary 
 Record, and a member of the staff of The Pall Mall, was the 
 first to aid by his articles, and the Press was unfailingly 
 helpful. But in spite of all written, spoken, and done, 
 municipal action was still delayed. 
 
 1881. — It is hard to write without passion, when one reflects 
 on the deaths and the suffering, on the sin and shame which 
 have been added to the sum of London's misery during the 
 six years which houses condemned as unfit for habitation have 
 been allowed to stand. If it is said that the cost of greater 
 speed would have been too great, it might well be asked what 
 other objects has the State in view which makes it too great 
 an expense to preserve and protect its people. This is the 
 question which is being asked by some of my neighbours. They 
 see wretchedness and misery to be very common, notwith- 
 standing progress and education, and they ask what is the 
 Government doing while it permits uninhabitable hoiises to 
 exist. . . My hope of one day having a parish with houses fit 
 for decent people has grown very faint. 
 
 The delay was all the more vexatious because aU things 
 were ready for the erection of the new houses. Our 
 dehghtful and generous-hearted friends Mr. and Mrs. G. 
 Murray Smith had decided to build a block of well-planned 
 homes, and a group of St. Jude's workers had met in the 
 httle Vicarage drawing-room and had agreed to form a 
 Company.' I can still see my husband's young mobile 
 face hghted up with pleasure as thousand after thousand 
 pounds were offered for investment, untd that afternoon 
 saw the Company ready to be launched with prehminary 
 
 • The East London Dwellings Company, four out of whose five Directors, 
 Mr. Alfred Hoare, Mr. James Parsons, Mr. Edward Bond, and Mr. A. G. 
 Crowder, are the same men who, thirty-three years ago. moved by the 
 cruel need for decent dwellings, shouldered the task and responsibility 
 of providing them. 
 
EAST LONDON DWELLINGS COMPANY 135 
 
 promises of £36,000. Of his hopes for the work of this 
 Company he wrote : 
 
 1883. — Our intention is to build for the unsliilled labourers, 
 the day workers at the docks, and the many men and women 
 who live by casual employment. For such there is as j'et no 
 provision bj' the Building Companies, and the rule of the Peabody 
 Trustees is to admit no tenant who carmot give a reference to 
 a regular employer. AVe shall have no such rule, we shall let 
 in single rooms, and if possible carry out the plan of having 
 lady rent-collefctors. . . If among these houses of the future 
 there be a common lodging-house, then a further need will 
 be met. A common lodging-house, without petty rules or 
 unjust mterference, could by its provision for comfort and 
 recreation be an rmtold advantage to the many who depend 
 for their view of life and course of conduct on the associations 
 of the hotel or common lodging-house, ia which they are forced 
 to reside. 
 
 But the much wooed and worked-for reform still tarried. 
 Mr. Barnett reported : 
 
 It is grievous to say that although houses were condemned 
 as unfit for habitation seven years ago, not one stone of better 
 houses has yet been placed on the ground. It is time there 
 was a new system of London government. When land lies 
 uncovered for a year while purchasers are ready to buy and 
 tenants are huddled in uninhabitable hovels, there must clearly 
 be someone to blame. There is, however, for all things, a Day 
 of Judgment, and in that day the voice of the patient poor 
 will be heard against the delay of the Metropolitan Board of 
 Works. 
 
 To H. 0. B. — Plurrah ! it does not matter about dates. Tlie 
 Act says " from time of delivery," so old Mitchell ^ rules, who 
 is a brick and has 'inade me driak a glass of sherry — ugh ! We 
 will ask him to dinner. He is going to do all I wish ! Yes- 
 terday I wanted you to grieve mth me, and now I want j'ou to 
 rejoice with me. Always want you, you see. — S. A. B. 
 
 The cause of the rejoicing was the reading of a clause in 
 the Artisans' DwelHngs Act which seemed to give a fresh 
 opportunity for a further push towards the goal of his hopes 
 for decent houses, but the authorities were hard to move. 
 
 Neither did Mr. Barnett confine his efforts to the parish 
 needs. 
 
 1882. — During the early part of this year I was a member 
 of a Housing Committee of the Charity Organisation Society, 
 
 1 The vestry solicitor. 
 
136 VISIT OF PRINCESS ALICE 
 
 and lately I have given evidence before a Committee in the 
 House of Commons which will, I trust, so report that not only 
 will bad houses be removed but good houses be substituted. 
 
 The problem of housing was then occupying many minds, 
 not only here but abroad, and during one of her visits to 
 England Princess Ahce of Hesse came to spend a long day 
 with us. She carefully visited alone with my husband the 
 various grades of habitation in which our parishioners lived 
 — the condemned houses, those which should have been 
 condemned, those purchased and renovated, the common 
 lodging-houses, the 8d. a night " furnished " rooms, and Mr. 
 Crowder's new model dwellings. Her questions were 
 thorough, both on detail and principle, but one remark alone 
 remains in my memory. She put both hands on my shoul- 
 ders and, kissing me, said : 
 
 " How proud and happy you must be to work so closely 
 with such a man ! " 
 
 I Uked that sentence, and ached with sympathy for her, 
 poor lady ! We had great difficulty in keeping her visit 
 private, and Miss Octavia wrote with much annoyance : 
 
 November IGth, 1876. — Please don't tell anyone about the Princess, 
 implore anyone you have told to be silent. People are such fools, they get 
 excitedly interested. BIr. A. told Miss B., and she is going chattering 
 about. I know I only said " Let her go quietly among the people," and I 
 didn't know myself till after I left you yesterday what fools people were. 
 I saw no reason why our own little group of workers shouldn't know, and 
 little thought they'd go chatter, chatter like this. Absolutely though I 
 have told oli ! so extremely few, and such quiet people, I have already had 
 a request to put the notice of my visit to her — happily the correspondent 
 knows nothmg more — into the American papers ! ! ! And yesterday the 
 Princess said so earnestly, " Oh, don't say anj-thing that will stop my ever 
 coming again." I feel as if the two or three people I have told would just 
 spoil all, and as if I'd plaj'ed her false. 
 
 She asks me to give you the enclosed.-' She writes to me so sweetly 
 and brightly of her interest yesterday, and of the pleasure of knowing you 
 both personally. There, Yetta dear, j'ou will save me from the result of 
 my ignorant belief that people would treat this like any other nice, simple 
 natural thing. 
 
 Several people were vexed that they had not been told 
 who their visitor was, but perhaps the funniest consequence 
 of the Princess's wish to " see mankind and what they 
 mean when no one's looking " was the action of an infuriated 
 deputy of a common lodging-house, who removed her girl 
 
 Her signed photograph. 
 
INSPECTION BY SIR RICHARD CROSS 137 
 
 from the night-school because she was " not used to that 
 sort of visitor ! " 
 
 But more important than the Princess Ahce's visit was 
 that paid by Sir Richard Cross, then Home Secretary. He 
 came in consequence of representations of the difficulty of 
 getting the authorities to order the demolition of the houses 
 which their medical officers had declared to be unfit for 
 human habitation. Sir Richard took up the subject warmly. 
 He visited, with the Home Office officials and the medical 
 officer, all the areas of condemned houses, and refused to 
 hear any excuses without Ustening to what Mr. Barnett had 
 to report. " What does my chaplain say to that state- 
 ment ? " he asked a dozen times in the day. How tired 
 and exhilarated my husband returned from that long and 
 dirty tramp, and how deUghted we were when the result of 
 Sir Richard's sympathetic perseverance got the Act amended. 
 But time spent in pushing, working, writing, talking, seemed 
 unavailing, and there is indignation as well as sadness 
 behind Mr. Barnett's words written in 1884 : 
 
 Again, there is notliing but complaints to record as to the 
 state of the Dwellings. During the whole year acres of groimd 
 cleared by the Metropolitan Board of Works so as to provide 
 houses for the people have remained barren as a desert. Some 
 portion was put up to auction last summer and sold, but as 
 yet there is no sign of building. Legal difficulties can hardly 
 be the reason for delay, inasmuch as two large public-houses 
 have been erected on the same site. Want of purchasers cannot 
 either be urged, inasmuch as the East London Dwellings Com- 
 pany has been at all times ready to purchase. Because the 
 Metropolitan Board of Works have other cares than the interests 
 of the people, the hopes of the last ten years still remain only 
 hopes. 
 
 The objection to seUing the land piecemeal was the 
 danger, lest portions might faU into someone's hands who, 
 using them without consideration for any larger plan, 
 would prevent the best arrangement of the property. So 
 while we had to wait to reahse our hopes, the waiting was 
 rendered more wearying because not free from anxiety. 
 The owners would sometimes offer their property for sale 
 on the shortest notice without advertisement. Of one 
 such sale we were told when at Whitby taking hohday with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Leonard Courtney, Mr. Roby, and Mr. Phihp 
 Lyttelton Gell. We two had had a lovely tour, trotting 
 from Oxford through Derbyshire and Yorkshire, and were 
 
 I— 11 
 
138 NEW DWELLINGS BUILT 
 
 resting both the pony and ourselves in gay companionship, 
 when a letter brought news of the impending sale of an 
 important corner in our parish. There was nothing for 
 it but to return at once, so pony, chaise, and we took the 
 afternoon train, we certainly with disappointment, though 
 perhaps not the pony. Rapid arrangements were made, 
 vicarious attendance at the auction secured, and we found 
 ourselves possessed of a great shce of our parish, larger 
 than we had meant to buy, not larger than we longed wisely 
 to use. It took every penny we possessed even to pay the 
 deposit money, and Mr. Barnett was gravely anxious. But 
 I recall my sense of triumph as, standing on a debris heap — 
 dead cats, tin pots, and broken furniture accentuating the 
 devastation — I reahsed we were king and queen in posses- 
 sion, and that there need be no more delay. We were very 
 careful in the disposal of our dirty bit of God's beautiful 
 earth, and the final result was that it was nearly all sold 
 for the erection of new dwellings for the people. 
 
 To some of us who worked with him, Mr. Barnett's un- 
 conquerable hope was an ever-present miracle, and it 
 justified itself, being united mth the faith which " worketh 
 marvels " ; but no one knows, except Miss Paterson and 
 me who were his house-mates, the periods of pain and hours 
 of chagrin that long-deferred justice caused him. With 
 him, therefore, we rejoiced when he was able to say : 
 
 1885. — At last the promise of better things seems nearer ful- 
 fihnent. Large blocks of dwellings have been built ia Goulston 
 Street, and the land in Wentworth Street has been secured by 
 those who will build both for artisans and for labourers. The 
 East London Dwellings Company has completed a block in 
 Cartwright Street,^ the management of wliich has been under- 
 taken by Mrs. Leonard Courtney. At last good houses have 
 replaced hovels. 
 
 The next year a still more jubilant note is sounded : 
 1886. — The rebuilding of the houses of the poor has been 
 going on apace. In the broad streets with their clean tall 
 dwellings it is almost impossible to recall the net of squalid 
 courts and the filthy passages which went by the name of streets. 
 After nine years' waiting and the delays which seem to be neces- 
 sary in the action of the Metropolilan Board of AVorks, the 
 improvement has been completed. Brunswick Buildings in 
 Goulston Street, and Wentworth Buildings in Wentworth Street 
 are inhabited. Other buildings, which are to be under the 
 
 ' Called Katharine Buildings after Mrs. Leonard Courtney. 
 
COLLEGE BUILDINGS ERECTED 139 
 
 management of ladies, are in the course of construction and 
 will be occupied during this year. 
 
 This hope was also achieved, and in 1887 my husband 
 wrote : 
 
 1887. — College Buildings, which occupy the site of Crown 
 Court, have been finished during the year. All the spaces 
 cleared in the parish for artisans' dwellings have now been 
 covered. From the day of scheduling a site to the day on which 
 a school is opened, the School Board counts, I believe, that 
 three years must elapse. A railway company achieves the same 
 work in somewhat over a year. It is ten years since this parish 
 was considered by the IvLetropolitan Board as an unhealthy 
 area, and onlj^ this year has its reproach been entirely removed. 
 
 College Buildings have been built with some regard to beauty. 
 It is, I believe, false economy, as it is false benevolence, which 
 provides for fellow-creatures things acknowledged to be ugly. 
 In the long run such things will be rejected, and although it is 
 too early to form conclusions, there is evidence that repulsive- 
 looking buildings repel tenants. Benevolence has had much 
 to do with the erection of dwellings in the neighbourhood ; and 
 in the name of benevolence, so as to encom-age benevolence, 
 some argue that decoration must be given up so that such 
 dwellings may be made to pay. Probably this is a mistake in 
 economy ; it is certainly a mistake in benevolence. To treat 
 one's neighbour as oneself is not to decorate one's own house 
 with the art of the world, and to leave one's neighbour's house 
 with nothing but drain-pipes to relieve the bareness of its walls. 
 They who would be benevolent should invest money whose 
 return would be the artistic pleasure of others, as they now 
 invest money the retiu-n of which is their o"\vn artistic pleasure. 
 
 In College Buildings further experiments will be tried in self- 
 government. A committee of tenants will be parties to the 
 management of the building, who after pajdng the landlord 
 4 per cent, on his outlay will divide the surplus among the 
 tenants in proportion to the rent paid. 
 
 Lolesworth Buildings on the north side of Wentworth Street 
 have been built by the East London Dwellings Company to 
 accommodate 300 families, and they are also under lady 
 collectors. Legally they are in Spitalfields parish, but with Mr. 
 Billing's consent they will be ministered to by us. 
 
 Of the co-operative experiment Mr. Barnett was later 
 able to report : 
 
 1889.- — The experiment id co-operative tenancy showed good 
 financial results, each tenant getting a dividend of £2 10s. If 
 the tenants would have agreed to have let the dividends accumu- 
 
140 GEORGE YARD AND BALLIOL HOUSE 
 
 late, they might gradually have become owners. They refused. 
 It seems impossible to help people to save when they them- 
 selves have not first made an effort. In this case the tenants 
 had done nothing and risked nothing, and so the dividend 
 represented rather a gift from outside than the result of their 
 ovvn effort capable of repetition. 
 
 And now this chapter must conclude, not, though, without 
 telling of how, under the influence of the progress of housing 
 standards, the flrst block built by Mr. Crowder, and of 
 which we were then so proud, became unpopular. 
 
 1890.^ — George Yard Buildings, which were erected fifteen 
 years ago to provide decent single-room tenements for the 
 very poor inhabitants of the parish, have, for various reasons, 
 lost caste. In one half-year £60 was lost through unlets. Under 
 these circumstances it has seemed better to close the buildings. 
 The tenants have now ample opportunity in neighbouring 
 blocks of finding better accommodation, and the rooms they 
 leave easily lend themselves for conversion into students' resi- 
 dences. George Yard Buildings will, if all goes well, be in 
 future known as Balliol House, and will be inhabited by forty 
 young men, who come, as 600 years ago men went to the banks 
 of Cam or Isis, to seek knowledge while they follow various 
 vocations to get their hving. As neighbours they will, I hope, 
 answer the calls which the neighbourhood makes on citizenship. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 " Let us fill in another^s ivealcness from our strength, giving gentleness or 
 force, sympathy or energy." 
 
 As we got to know the people intimately and realised the 
 routine of their daily hves drearily passed in one room, 
 the need of open spaces where the healthy could walk, the 
 old and weary sit, the children play, assumed the position 
 of a social necessity. IVIiss Octavia had shown the way, and, 
 actively helped by her, the joy was given to us in 1875 to 
 lay out as a garden a httle bit of land in the midst of a 
 maze of courts just behind the Church. 
 
 1875. — In Xew Court a piece of void gi-ound, long the recep- 
 tacle of rubbish, is in process of being tiuned into a gajden. 
 An open railing has been substituted for the wall, soil has been 
 spread, and a few trees planted. The people in the Court are 
 showing great interest in the work, and we look hoioefullj' 
 forward to the effect of one bright spot on this very dark neigh- 
 boiu-hood. 
 
 To my husband, one good gained was only another reason 
 to strive for more, and so he added : 
 
 I think that if arrangements were made for the performance 
 of high-class — not dance — music, a further step would be made. 
 People want an object to draw them to the garden where the 
 influence of light and beauty will work its will on their 
 lives. . . 
 
 A few years later he wrote : 
 
 1881. — The Wentworth Street playground with its swings 
 and giant stride is growing into popularity ; all the more as 
 tar-paving has, by means of a grant from the Kyrle Society, 
 been substituted for the gravel, which hurt naked or badly 
 shod feet. It is a matter of time, though, to teach children 
 that there is more fun to be found in an open space than in the 
 sights of the crowded street. I wish more young people, able 
 to play, would come to our playground to show the children 
 how to do so. . . 
 
 141 
 
142 NEED OF OPEN SPACES 
 
 The People's Entertainment Society provided a band during 
 the summer months to play on Thursday evenings. I hoped 
 the people might have sat and listened. The young ones, though, 
 insisted on dancing, and we watched the experiment with some 
 anxiety. All went quietly, except on one evening, when the 
 rough element became too strong, and we had to stop the band. 
 I am not quite certain whether pleasm-e of this kind is worth 
 the providing ; the noisy horse-play which passes for dancing 
 does not create a desire for another class of pleasures, the enjoy- 
 ment of which might add so much to the lives of the poor. 
 
 At that time it was the fashion to wear coarse straw 
 bonnets much the same shape as we see now on the noble 
 heads of the women of the Salvation Army. Mine, that 
 summer, was white and thick and trimmed with terra-cotta 
 ribbon to match my frock and cape which Rachel Toynbee 
 had embroidered for me. Why do I remember and 
 record so trivial a detail ? Because I had it on that evening 
 when " the rough element became too strong." We had 
 gone to the playground with some helpful " young people " 
 to give the children a good time, and as in the dance I held 
 the grubby hand of a Uttle shoeless lad, I trod on his toes, 
 I with boots, he bare-footed. It hurt us both, his foot and 
 my heart. To me it seemed a symbol of our civilisation, 
 adult wealth treading on infant poverty. 
 
 " Never mind, laidy," he said, turning comforter in his 
 turn, " we ivas going it. Come on" ; but as we started, a 
 crowd of the abandoned girls of the neighbourhood mth 
 their " chaps " came in, pushed the children aside, and rushed 
 into lawless dancing. A Bacchanalian scene ensued. We 
 tried talking, Mr. Barnett to the lads, I to the girls, but 
 excited evil was in the ascendancy and they would not 
 desist. So the band was stopped, the playground cleared, 
 the gate locked, and he and I started to go home, the little 
 lad running alongside. But the street was full of angry 
 people who so blocked the pathway that we had to walk 
 in the road. They howled and hooted and threw stones, 
 at first a few, then many. The Vicar had only his soft felt 
 hat while I was safe behind my thick straw boiuiet. What 
 a pity we could not play the game the lawless dancers would 
 have understood and exchanged hats ! But he remained 
 calm and unruffled, bidding me walk slowly and trust their 
 aim was bad — and it was ! 
 
 " And it's us as pays you," they shouted, ignorant of the 
 financial basis of the Established Church. 
 
BAKER'S ROW PLAYGROUND , 143 
 
 So another hope was dashed, as my husband saw that 
 our neighbours were not yet tit for freedom ; but his faith 
 in humanity rose again, and in the report to our fellow- 
 workers he said : 
 
 1881. — I think I have told yon how, some years ago, a vain 
 attempt was made to get possession of the Quaker's Burial- 
 ground as a space for public recreation. By the kindness 
 of some of the Friends, possession was sold to myself and three 
 other trustees, the money was collected for laying out the 
 ground, and the parish authorities have undertaken its future 
 care. This ground was opened last July by the Prince and 
 Princess of 'Wales. 
 
 It is very delightful to see the use now made of the Baker's 
 Row Park, as the people call it. The children crowd the part 
 set apart for them, and the seats are always filled by those to 
 whom the pleasure of a drawing-room, with its possibility of 
 refreshing repose, is rmkno^vn. A band on some summer even- 
 ings, the help of some playmates who would bring the fives 
 court and playgroiuid into use, and a little more regard for 
 the beauty of the beds, would fill the hopes born on the opening 
 day.i 
 
 The opening here referred to was a very grand one. 
 Bunting, poles, and flags called " decoration " transformed 
 the streets, the local magnates were bursting with import- 
 ance, ambitious wives fussed for chief seats, and humbler 
 people in back benches stretched and strained to catch 
 gUmpses of the royal folk. The dirty excluded crowd 
 pushed and jostled, the children yelled and screamed, and 
 the author of their future pleasures and the cause of the 
 whole function could with difficulty be made to take the 
 part assigned to him, and endeavoured only to push 
 others to the front. 
 
 " You should turn the key with a prayer, you and Miss 
 Octavia and I, if it were not that open spaces were 
 necessary in other neighbourhoods and princes are good 
 advertisers of ideas " expressed Mr. Barnett's o\\ti wishes. 
 
 During the early days of our life in Whitechapel my 
 husband was often ill and still oftener depressed. That 
 his plans for the pubUc good should be misunderstood not 
 
 1 Now called Vallanee Pvoad P^ecreation Groiuid. The following is 
 taken from the Report of the Borough Council of Stepney, 1913-14, 
 thirty-four years after the playground was opened : " The London 
 County Council has provided an excellent band to play in the Vallanee 
 Road Recreation Ground, consisting of twelve instrumentalists in the 
 case of military bands, and twenty-four performers in boys' brass bands," 
 
144 ANONYMOUS LETTERS 
 
 only by the degraded ignorant people for whose good they 
 were conceived, but by his brother-clergy and his more 
 educated neighbours, gave him acute, surprised pain. He 
 often received anonymous letters, and, strange as it may 
 seem, kept them. In his humihty he probably thought it 
 was good for him to see himself as others saw him. Here 
 are two : 
 
 You awful fraud. I wonder you are not struck down dead taking part 
 in the service. The poor hate you like the bitterest poison. You are no 
 good at all and not fit to be a clergyman. I hate you. I hope you wUl 
 drop dead before long. Curse you. 
 
 Would it not be better that before finding fault with others, that you 
 begin to look at the wretchedly empty condition of your ovm Church ? 
 The inefficiency of yourself as a Clergyman ? The inexperience you so 
 painfully exhibit in dealing with the cases of the poor ? A little advice to 
 you is necessary. Give up your present position, let some faithful man of 
 God, a poor curate thoroughly efficient, take it, with the salary you now 
 draw. There are many men who are prepared to do your present work at 
 a pound a week, and do it well. Suppose you try your hand at getting 
 rid of drones from the Church. Wh}' not form an organisation to begin 
 with yourself 7 It requires something of this sort to bring you to j'our 
 senses. With much disgust, I remain. 
 
 An Advocate for Effioibnt Paksons. 
 
 In vain he was urged to ignore such communications. 
 He would reply that, in spite of the activity of the parish 
 organisation, the small number of worshippers was an 
 evidence of his personal failure to reach the deepest natures 
 of those entrusted to his care, and he would question his 
 fitness for his work. Sometimes it was difficult to rouse him 
 out of these sad periods of self-distrust, and, while ever 
 courteous, he would be what in his letters he called '' cross 
 and bad-tempered." To me he wrote : 
 
 I am much better tempered this evening. I have been into 
 the parish and done district books, and seen Mrs. London who 
 wants you to send her a servant. She seems to be a dear woman 
 of vast intellect and deep spiritual insight. I much enjoj'ed my 
 talk with her ; she reminded me of you. She is the wife of our 
 new librarian. 
 
 Now be wise and rest. Let me see who rests ? Those who 
 have a broad basis. That's it. A broad basis, physical, or 
 intellectual, or spiritual, will give you rest. Try and get a broad 
 physical basis by eating well. Dear ! dear ! j-ou have got 
 enough to do in being mine in good and bad temper. — S. A. B. 
 
MR. BARNETT'S DEPRESSION 145 
 
 To H. 0. B. — If I were not so cross and conceited I should be 
 able to reach men's souls and find out their needs. I have 
 done all j'ou said, even told Ellen to get up my sliirts. What 
 else do I ever do but what you say ? Whenever you don't say, 
 then I am rudderless. Oh ! I shall be glad when you are back 
 at the helm again, and together we pick up the wrecks of my 
 broken work." 
 
 " Wrecks of broken work ! " One can only tenderly 
 smile now at such words in relation to his labours, but then 
 one did not smile, only craved to get well quickly so as to 
 return and cheer him. Can a human being be too humble ? 
 I used to think so. Those who only knew my husband 
 when he had a large following, and his advice and opinion 
 were much sought for, held that his humihty was the 
 most beautiful of his vii'tues, but they had not seen him 
 in his youth, nor known how nearly his work had been 
 wi-eckecl by blows which, received by a less seK-depreciating 
 character, would only have been salutary. With the 
 motherliness of a young wife I decided that it would be 
 good for him to have his ambitions fired, not with eccle- 
 siastical ambition — thank God, we neither of us ever 
 descended to that — but with a desire for the power which, 
 following recognition, would give further opportunities of 
 service and influence. With this end in view, I fearlessly 
 invited to our tiny Whitechapel Vicarage all the most intel- 
 lectual people ■we met, who, when they had cleared away 
 his hedges of mannerisms, recognised, revered, and 
 followed the real man. His surprise was genuine when his 
 opinion was sought and acted on, and people whose char- 
 acters and work he esteemed followed his lead. 
 
 To induce him to take wise care of himself without 
 arousing his nervousness was a problem, and one that we 
 never solved ; absolute disregard of his health alternating 
 with comical fussiness. In 1876 evidently the first was 
 dominant, for his brother wrote : 
 
 I wish you many many happy returns of your birthday. You are quite 
 one of the few men to whom it may be said " Self -care is not half so vile a 
 sin as self -neglect," or in other words you will be doing God's service and 
 furthering " others' needs " by taking care of yourself, for you are dear to 
 many. Ever yours affectionately, Fkank. 
 
 It was very helpful to have " Mother's " house -with its 
 comforts always waiting to receive him, however tired and 
 out of sorts he was, so besides the regulation family visits 
 at Christmas and the fortnight's autumn seaside holiday, 
 
146 VISITS TO HIS FAMILY 
 
 we often went down to see her, the horses being rested for 
 at least a week before we arrived. 
 
 " Never mind my httle trots," she would say, " they hke 
 the long drives, and the horses must be prepared for 
 them." 
 
 The friendship my husband had with his mother was of 
 a deep and encompassing order. He entered into every 
 detail of her many kind plans, discussed with gaiety and 
 good humour her political confusions, and remembered to 
 ask after all the uninteresting relations and old servants. 
 She frequently failed to understand him and occasionally 
 disapproved of his progressive action, but she never contra- 
 dicted him nor showed displeasure, but just stood aside, 
 waited and trusted. It was from her I think that my 
 husband obtained his vast store of silent patience. Between 
 her and me there existed a true affection, though she did 
 not in the least understand my wish to undertake large or 
 growing responsible work ; neither did her sympathy extend 
 to my passionate desire to befriend the wicked, or to change 
 conditions for the handicapped. To her mind charitable 
 assistance was for the respectable, and the poverty of the 
 poor arranged by the Almighty. But these were " only 
 opinions " which affection easily surmounted, and when 
 she had once reahsed that I was not only my husband's 
 wife, she accepted my individuahty with respect, specially 
 enjoying the mimicry and mischief. 
 
 In 1875 we took her with her deaf sister. Aunt Jane, 
 and cousin Stanton through the lakes, canals, fiords of 
 fascinating Scotland. How the old ladies delighted in it 
 all, and specially at being encouraged to deeds of daring 
 without the fathers carping restraint. Sometimes we 
 used to send them round by the road, and ourselves take 
 mountain paths to the same goal, guided safely by my 
 husband's unerring sense of locahty. Can anything equal 
 Scotch autumn colouring, except perhaps Japan's inland 
 sea or the Greek Isles behind the Dardanelles ? But one 
 has to go direct from ten months' Ufe in Whitechapel 
 thoroughly to appreciate Nature's colouring. 
 
 In 1876 we again went to Switzerland, and as Mrs. Barnett 
 had been persuaded to keep her son's letters when they 
 were written from abroad, that hohday can be described 
 in his own words. She had been sad at our leaving her, 
 for he was very far from well, which accounts for his mention 
 
LETTERS, 1876 147 
 
 of the food, the comforts of the hotels, and the length of 
 the walks he was able to take. 
 
 Dover, August 2nd, 1876. — The sea waves are not sad. On 
 the contrary, they are gay and dancing merrily under tlie bright 
 sun. They are so lovely that we have not cared to start, but 
 sat all the morning on the beach reading Gladstone. To-morrow 
 we hope to cross to Ostend. 
 
 Zurich, August 8th, 1876. — We have just had good news 
 from home to complete our happiness. We stayed at Schaff- 
 hausen till this morning, learning to know more of the falls. 
 On Friday we went round, about, and under them. It is very 
 terrible to stand amid the rolling, roaring waters. They seemed 
 to come from the blue sky, to go down to unknown depths, 
 and to rise again in great mountains. There, from all their 
 might, gentle wreaths of spray seemed to grow and hang in 
 the air. We spent a long time watcliing, and I think as we 
 watched we got more into the centre of things ; we felt our- 
 selves less and the world more. In the evening the moon rose 
 over all the noise and force, making everytliing look calm and 
 gentle. 
 
 On Saturday morning we started with paint-box, picnic 
 basket, and hammock ; we slung the hammock on some trees 
 opposite the falls and prepared to spend the day. We did it 
 most perfectly, drawing, eating, reading, Ijdng in the hammock. 
 You will see your daughter's picture, which is the best she has 
 done. On Sunday we quietly again wandered about the falls, 
 thinking that we were more truly in God's house, and listening 
 to His words, than we should have been in the hotel coffee- 
 room, where a rather rakish-looking parson was holding forth, 
 depending for his support wholly on " the voluntary contri- 
 butions of the visitors." 
 
 Uetliburg, August 10th, 1876. — My tale brought you up to 
 Monday. That afternoon we spent at Zurich ; sat on the 
 borders of the lake watching the far-away mountains slowly 
 rise out of the mist, walked in the town making some purchases, 
 and went to the Museum to see the remains of people who lived 
 in the lake 5000 B.C. They had no iron, but only stone imple- 
 ments ; hammers, needles, etc., were made of stone. It is 
 difficult to learn much about them as they left no history. 
 
 On Tuesday we took the steamer to travel up the lake. It 
 is not one of the grandest of lakes, but has sloping sunny banks, 
 covered with vines and dotted with houses running down to 
 the water's edge. The scenery suggests a peace which has 
 been won without effort or struggle and invites repose. We 
 landed at the south end, and turned in to an inn for dinner. 
 We had soup, fish, roast beef and potatoes, mutton cutlets with 
 
148 ME. AND MRS. ERNEST HART 
 
 vegetables, chicken and salad, a glorious egg pudding, ice cream 
 and apricots, greengages, etc., all for 2s. &d. each. Rather 
 different, this, from the dinner we had with you in Rothesay off 
 
 an old joint, wasn't it ? After dinner Y sketched, and I 
 
 went to sleep. 
 
 The voyage home was very grand, the evening lights gave 
 new colours to the whole scene. Great mountains stood out 
 dark above the hills, the hills sparkled with gold, and the lake 
 was still as a sheet of silver. There was now more of " rest " 
 in the view, more of that peace which follows a day or a life 
 well spent. 
 
 This morning we got up at six, had breakfast, and walked 
 (2| hours) up here. The walk was all the way beneath trees, 
 but when we got to the top a grand panorama was spread out 
 before us. We found a large and good hotel, so propose stopping 
 all night. We are going to walk on to Lucerne, where on Mon- 
 dajr we shall meet Alice and get letters from you. 
 
 I hope I shall get fat ; I am vigorously drinliing milk for that 
 purpose. We have not yet had any rain, and the weather is 
 perfect. With dearest love, S. A. B. 
 
 At Lucerne we were joined by my sister and Mr. Ernest 
 Hart, Mr. B. F. C. Costelloe, and three Balliol under- 
 graduates. So the memories of that holiday are inter- 
 mingled with much good talk. 
 
 Mr. Hart was a Jew, a reverent agnostic, pursuing truth 
 ■with a ruthless disregard of consequences, a man mth a great 
 love of beauty, a keen appreciation of art, and an unashamed 
 enjoyment of luxury. He was exceptionally public-spirited 
 and spent himseK and his large means in obtaining many 
 reforms, mainly affecting public health. He Uked argumenta- 
 tivefighting, and enjoyed nothing better than to riddle loosely- 
 held theories by the guns of weU-planted scientific facts. His 
 heart was large and tender, and in it he included not only 
 the weak and sickly of the human family, but many members 
 of the animal world with whom he was on terms of mutual 
 understanding. To me my brother-in-law gave deep and 
 affectionate friendship, and much of my public work could 
 not have been done without his faith in me, which both 
 stimulated and curbed my capacities. To Mr. Barnett he 
 rendered an unwilhng admiration, not unmixed with scorn 
 of his non-scientific religion, and his want of worldly 
 ambition. My over-sensitive husband was often pained 
 by Mr. Hart ; and it was evidence of beautiful traits in them 
 both, that, for twenty-five years, they each subdued their 
 natural incompatibility, in order that no stumbling-block 
 
MR. B. F. C. COSTELLOE 149 
 
 should be placed in the way of the dominating devotion 
 that has ever existed between my sister and me. 
 
 To describe her is perplexing. She is very clever, generous- 
 minded enough to forgive injuries, humble enough to forget 
 them, fuU of the passion of pity and self-forgetful enthusiasm, 
 with a child-hke confidence in everyone which none of the 
 disappointments she has suffered ever quenches. She 
 narrates brilhantly but dishkes discussion, the bent of her 
 mind being assertively scientific, and her interests those of 
 chemistry apphed to industrial enterprises. She reads 
 voraciously, sketches dramatically, has a sunny temper, 
 and is a trained doctor and an observant nurse. 
 
 Mr. B. F. C. CosteUoe was a Roman Cathohc, an open 
 exhibitioner of BaUiol and a double first of Oxford, holding 
 also a Glasgow degree. He had a soul that worshipped, a 
 mind that grasped at aU tilings, an ambition that vaulted 
 above himself, and manners that were very trying. His 
 talk was by turns provocative, persuasive, poetical, practical, 
 and preposterous. Sometimes, Kke Mr. Anthony Hope's 
 Quisante, he had " moments " when one perforce believed 
 that he was a veritable leader of men — and then, he would 
 trip over a stone of moral feehng or ethical taste and leave 
 one in dismay. 
 
 " I reverence that man," I once heard Mr. Barnett say, 
 during a period of his later fife when he was in much sorrow 
 and woefully misunderstood ; but during that Smss holiday, 
 he was free of care, strong, very interesting, and a tireless 
 traveller. 
 
 With such a party, not to mention the three BaUiol under- 
 graduates, two of whom were planning, when they had taken 
 their degrees, to come and five near us ur Whitechapel, the 
 talk was fuU of variety and excitement. Of this Mr. Barnett 
 says nothing to his mother, as it would not have interested 
 her, but he greatly enjoyed it, and though he never declaimed 
 Kke Mr. CosteUoe, nor lectured Kke Mr. Hart, he yet held 
 his own, often by short incisive questions or epigrammatical 
 sentences. In hoUdays also his natural gaiety had oppor- 
 tunity, and though, when other people were there, he never 
 played quite so freely as when we were alone, the absence 
 of the weight of work brought freedom for enjoying good 
 stories, ridiculous jokes, or for creating amusing incidents. 
 
 Andermatt, Avgust l^th, 1876. — We were called this morn- 
 ing at 4.30 and started on our walk to Andermatt, as far as we 
 have gone a most grand walk on a road cut in a gorge at the 
 
150 LETTERS, 1876 
 
 bottom of which a river rushes, and on each side of which the 
 pines grow. As the road twists new beauties meet one, some- 
 times it is a lot of mountain peaks, sometimes a deep overhung 
 whirlpool. It is inspuing to look through the trees down to 
 the foaming, rushing stream ; like looking through the covering 
 of the world into that ever onward moving law which moves 
 on to a divine event. 
 
 The after-part of our walk was very grand ; the rocks, bare 
 and rugged, threaten all passers-by and seem to make the stream 
 mad with rage as they trouble its course. Once I used to like 
 such scenery best, its defiance stirred an antagonism in me, 
 and I had some of the joy of a warrior before the battle ; some- 
 how now it rather repels me and I like better the scenery which, 
 speaks of rest and progress. 
 
 The great want one feels in travelling is the power to make 
 nature alive. The old pagans found in every rock a God, in, 
 every stream a nymph, and in every tree a faun. To them 
 nature was alive and spoke of love, might, or gaiety. The old 
 Catholics, too, put their saints amid the trees and rocks, and 
 they too could look to find everywhere a sympathising gaze. 
 We, on the other hand, see only peaks so many thousand feet 
 high, trees which are good for fuel or fiuruture, streams alive 
 with fish. If we could rather find everj^where God's message, 
 if we could read His meaning, unravel the language which tells 
 of Him and His character, we should travel more happily and 
 with more advantage. I am sure that there is in every view a 
 distinct message. Would that we could read it ! 
 
 SiERBE, August 1876. — We are here on our way to Leuk 
 over the Lake of Geneva to Interlaken. We had a fine time 
 at Chamonix. My wife accomplished her long ice- walk so well 
 that I had some trouble to prevent her going up Mont Blanc. 
 On the ice-excursion they were thirteen hours away, but 
 returned quite fresh. She will tell you about the ice-slopes 
 and snow two feet thick through which she walked, and she 
 will describe a little flower-garden in the midst of all, whereon 
 flowers grew, and from which all the needles of Mont Blanc 
 could be seen. 
 
 The next day we all took a quiet walk up a mountain on the 
 other side of the valley and watched the sim set and the moon 
 rise over the great Alpine Range. It is very beautiful to watch 
 the strong, immoveable mountains, refreshing, too, is the very 
 idea of force taking all kinds of tender hghts and shades. The 
 sight moves one as when a strong man weeps, or a great man 
 humbles himself. 
 
 Vevay, August 1876. — We had to change our route; on the 
 Furka it became cold, the glass went down, and snow threatened. 
 We hired a carriage and commenced our descent. Down we 
 
LETTERS, 1876 151 
 
 went through the clouds till in about three hours we came out 
 beneath. We ran then strangely against two more Oxford 
 friends, who have brought our partj? up to seven. All Thursday 
 we drove down the Rhone Valley, which in its upper portions is 
 very beautiful. The river rushes and tumbles below in very 
 deep gorges and the road winds along pine-clad mountains. In 
 front of us rose a gi-eat snow-cliff which caught the sun and 
 finished the beauty of the scene. In the afternoon we were under 
 the clouds and came in for pouring rain. We drove on through 
 this to Brieg, where we slept. 
 
 Next morning at six we started again, and under a grey sky 
 drove on to Sierre. The drive was not interesting, the people 
 here are slow, and they have not walled in the river. It con- 
 stantly rises ! and flows over miles of land. The road Hes 
 tlirough a desert and a swamp — great stones lie in heaps and 
 the bulrushes moan a constant lament. A few patches of culti- 
 vated land, some tumble-down cottages, are all that is to be seen. 
 The mountains on each side seem ready to hurl down stones and 
 water, angry that men have been so careless of the good they 
 have offered. 
 
 Could we see our cities, I expect we should have the same 
 thought. Fancy what treasures of air, water, and beauty God 
 has given BristoHans, and they have made fever-dens, swamps, 
 and hideousness. As i;;is mountains on the Rhone Valley pour 
 terrors of stone and water, so He must on our cities pour fevers 
 and poverty. 
 
 From Sierre we took train here, a most lovely spot with 
 dreamy distant mountains and a lake which drowsily moves at 
 out feet. 
 
 Yesterday we spent quietly resting, listening according to 
 our powers to the silent voices of the mountains. To-day they 
 are all gone for a long excursion which I had previously been, 
 and for which I did not care to tire myself. 
 
 This moderate statement that he did ' ' not care to tire 
 himseK " covers the fact of several severe attacks of cerebral 
 sickness with exhaustion and indigestion, and to his anxious 
 mother he minimised his illnesses ; but it was with a sense of 
 reUef that we found ourselves back at home, though home 
 was a tiny house amid the dominating smells and noises of 
 Whitechapel. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 " As yet the rich dorCt recognise that the poor are their equals in human 
 powers of enjoyment.'^ 
 
 Apologies and explanations for entertaining our neigh- 
 bours are often given in the earlier of St. Jude's Reports, 
 and we certainly spent a great deal of time, thought, and 
 money on creating pleasure. With much scorn critics spoke 
 of our " new-fangled notions," and regretted that it was 
 Mr. Barnett's method "to save starving souls by pictures, 
 parties, and pianos." In the lirst Report he explained the 
 expenditure on entertainment in the following words : 
 
 1874. — I would justify it on two grounds : first, that such au 
 expenditure naturally belongs to our whole system of dealing 
 with the poor, and secondly, that the religion of amusement 
 has been greatly lost sight of. If we refuse a coal ticket because 
 we wish to treat the people with respect, it is only right that 
 we should invite them to meet as friends. 
 
 The surprise of the people at being treated as " friends " 
 was very painful, and was an evidence of how much the 
 idea of social communion needed teacliing. Living in the 
 Vicarage had not made it less small, dark, or inconvenient, 
 but we had gathered witliin it beautiful and inherited things 
 and it was home. So to the Vicarage, tiny as it was, our 
 parish friends were invited. One who began her working 
 hfe in St. Jude's shall give her remembrance of the drawing- 
 room as she saw it with her young eyes : 
 
 In the Vicarage, beautiful Howers and sprays of leaves always filled the 
 rooms with the story of fields and gardens and big skies, and the curtains ! 
 My soul positively adored a pair of primrose silk curtains that hung at the 
 windows of the drawing-room against opal-coloured walls, and many is 
 the time I have furtively gloated over them whilst the dear Vicar has been 
 taking Monday prayers ! . . . I did love that drawing-room. Well ! 
 I wonder if Mrs. Barnett has ever quite realised how much propaganda 
 work was done for education by sharing her beautiful things with us. 
 
 152 
 
GUESTS OF ALL CLASSES 153 
 
 Whatever was the result, the pleasure of welcoming the 
 parish people in our own home never palled ; the small 
 annoyances, of greasy heads leaning against Morris papers 
 and dirty damp garments ruining furniture covers, were 
 soon surmounted by placing chairs and backless sofas well 
 SLwaj from the wall, and substituting washable Liberty 
 cottons for silk damasks. At every party care was taken to 
 invite guests of different classes, and so horizons were Avidened, 
 sympathies deepened, and sources of common interest dis- 
 covered. The principle of equahty as feUow-guests was 
 studiously kept in mind ; and it was to avoid the awkward- 
 ness of one class acting as parlourmaids to another, as well 
 as the practice of secreting food to be enjoyed at home, that 
 caused us to aboHsh sitting-down meals, and to substitute 
 simpler refreshment served from a buffet table and taken 
 standing. To make a successful party, entertainment should 
 be scanty. Too often are the poor invited for an evening's 
 pleasure, and then set down in rows to be entertained by 
 songs or parlour tricks, which chiefly entertain those who 
 perform. People must talk together, if they are to break 
 down the class barriers built by mutual ignorance, and if 
 they are to discover that human tastes, interests, and aspira- 
 tions survive all accidents of environment. So time and 
 opportunities for talk had to be made at aU the parties. 
 
 1879. — While the amusements provided for the poor are so 
 often dull, so often vain and shallow, so little appealing to 
 thought or imagination, it is hopeless to expect the manners, 
 the seK-restraLnt, or even the spiritual appreciation which is the 
 object of philanthropists and missionaries to teach. . . Much 
 may be done by individuals. There is nothing which people 
 find so interesting as their fellow-creatures. It is in company 
 that most among us find our amusement and enlarge our minds. 
 From company, from social intercourse, the mass of the people 
 is cut ofl:. Parties are impossible either in their own small 
 rooms or in the public halls. 
 
 It was found a good plan to invite special groups, so as to 
 enable those who attended the same class or reading party 
 to get to know one another. 
 
 Of one such occasion an " old girl" wrote : 
 
 What girl, I wonder, has forgotten the party Mrs. Barnett gave to her 
 Bible-class on her return from Egypt ? when we were, as a class, intro- 
 duced to Mrs. Barnett, the Vicar's mother. She was present for a short 
 while, and I dimly recall her kind face so like her son's. I don't think 
 either he or Mrs. Barnett came near her or passed her chair without some 
 
 1—12 
 
154 CONGREGATIONAL PARTIES 
 
 little sign of endearment. We gasped with pleasure when the Vicar came 
 in, draped and turbanned in Oriental fashion and bearing on his head a 
 tray of gifts for all. . . Then followed some time afterwards a visit of 
 the class with our Mrs. Barnett to the Crystal Palace, expressly to go 
 through the Egyptian Courts, and oh dear ! what a lot I have forgotten 
 about Rameses the Great, and Queen Hatshepshut. 
 
 The congregational parties took place every month, when 
 aU who worked in the parish were also invited. 
 To the West-end workers the Vicar wrote : 
 
 1877. — I fear that some of you have not thought it worth 
 your time to come to our parties in the schools. I think you 
 make a mistake. The conversation with another guest may 
 seem to be dull work by the side of what can be done for vice 
 and misery, but it is nevertheless the kind of work which pre- 
 vents evil. The sense of fellowship, the power of quiet enjoy- 
 ment, the reahsation of higher modes of life, depend on simple 
 intercourse. 
 
 In one of his letters to his brother he said : 
 
 February 25th, 1888. — On Wednesday we had a congregational 
 party. I was a bit tired, so my wife used her authority — shut 
 me up with a book and went herself to do the work. Some of 
 the men performed musical Box and Cox. It is, I believe, good 
 
 with Sullivan's music, and Y will mimic for you Cox's 
 
 dying song when he was left with his woes, his linen for his 
 nose, and his linen for his toes on Margate Cliff. A performance 
 of this sort made a change, but I don't think it pays ; it does 
 not tend to make people know one another or help one another. 
 For such entertaunnent people can pay, and in one sense the 
 gift of it pauperises. 
 
 The following description of these schoolroom parties 
 has been sent to me : 
 
 The Vicar and his wife invited the members of the congregation once a 
 month to a conversazione in the schoolroom for friendly pleasure and 
 rest from work. We had music and talk. Woe betide anyone who did not 
 get friendly or held aloof ! The whole thing was run on unique parochial 
 lines. There were light refreshments, just tea, coffee, bread and butter 
 and cake, and no charge was made. We came freely by invitation, and 
 thus at one stroke the charity taint was removed. Oh ! what a contrast 
 to the usual yearly scrambles called " parish teas," at which each person 
 paid ninepence and saw to it that they grabbed ninepence-worth ! . . . 
 
 At our parties there were large portfolios, and Mrs. Barnett explained 
 the pictures and introduced us to Botticelli and Watts, and after one of 
 their continental holidays interesting foreign things were brought in, and 
 that encouraged talk. We met people, too, we had heard of. I remember 
 Lord Ripon, and Lord and Lady Monteagle, Mr. and Mrs. Holman-Hunt, 
 Mr. Leonard Courtney and Miss Hill, Mr. Walter Crane and Mr. Herbert 
 
HOSTS IN THE COUNTRY 155 
 
 Spencer ; and Mr. Ernest Hart, who showed us wonderful Japanese 
 treasures ; and people who have become great since, like Lord Milner and 
 Lord Pentland, Sir Robert Morant and Mr. Arnold Toynbee, and the 
 Archbishop ; but of course one did not notice them so much as the}' were 
 not great then. . . I can still hear the dear Vicar saying at about 9.45 : 
 
 " We are going to dance ' Sir Roger de Coverley,' and Mrs. BuUwinkle 
 and I will lead off the young people." 
 
 Miss Townsend would be impressed at the piano and we danced till her 
 arms dropped. Then " Auld lang syne " and so home, feeling that we had 
 all had a deUghtful time of friendship and goodwill. 
 
 The summer congregational parties were great events. 
 At the March schookoom party all the guests became a 
 committee and decided what should be done. The expenses 
 were met in accordance with the principle of the early 
 Christian Church. Everybody knew exactly the cost 
 and paid what they thought well, and during the twenty- two 
 years that this system prevailed, I do not think the treasurer 
 ever had to meet a deficit. We always went for a whole 
 long day and often far afield : to Oxford and Cambridge, 
 where we were entertained by the Master of BaUiol, the 
 Provost of Queen's, the Warden of Wadham, the Dean of 
 Christ Church, Sir John Gorst ; to Eton as the guests of the 
 Provost and Canon Cornish ; to Canterbury, to be welcomed 
 by Canon Holland ; to St. Albans, to Dover, to Cookham, 
 to Hampton Court ; to Lord Dunsany's beautiful house, 
 where he welcomed us with an unequalled, old-world charm ; 
 and again and again to Roffey Park where Mr. and Mrs. 
 Innes made golden memories framed by subtle kindnesses. 
 
 On crossing the Atlantic in returning from our journey 
 round the world — 1890-1 — ^Mr. Barnett, according to his 
 wont, was not able to eat with the other people in the saloon 
 for the first day or two. At our table sat two American 
 lads and their mother, but their standing in fife appearances 
 did not indicate. One day, when I was idly leaning against 
 the deck-rail, the lady approached me and asked : 
 
 " Where do you hve ? " 
 
 " In Whitechapel," I rephed. 
 
 " Oh ! the place where Jack the Ripper carried on. I 
 thought as much." 
 
 " Why ? " was all I could stammer out in my surprise. 
 
 " Because," she said, " of your husband's beautiful 
 countenance. Before he came to table I always mealed 
 short, but since he joined us I've mealed long, because of 
 the pleasure of looking at him." 
 
 This tale I told with mimicry of her accent at the large 
 
156 RELIGION UNDERLIES ENTERTAINMENTS 
 
 congregational party which assembled to welcome us, and 
 though the Vicar pretendedj,to be shocked at my levity, he 
 enjoyed it with his usual appreciation of ways of bringing 
 people together, even by common laughter against himself 
 and his dignity. 
 
 My husband counted it a reUgious duty to give parties. 
 
 1885. — I wish I could show how religion underlies the duty 
 of entertaining those unable to entertain again. Our Lord did 
 not think it beneath Him to make it a special command that 
 His followers should entertain the poor. If we reflect how it is 
 the intercourse which comes of meeting which reveals man to 
 man, and how it is through the revelation of his brother that 
 a man knows God, we shall see that we may be preachers when 
 we invite the rich and the poor to know each other. At any 
 rate, it is not God's will that so many should be sad, maimed 
 in mind, dwarfed in hope, and it is the will of God that they 
 who have the power of breaking the bands of such sadness 
 should use their power. . . 
 
 It is a religious service to visit and also to entertain the poor. 
 Indeed the practice of doing so seems to me the only justifica- 
 tion for possessing houses, grounds, and pictures. When I preach 
 this duty it is often misunderstood, as if all I wanted was in- 
 crease of pleasure for the people. This is not so ; the duty of 
 entertaining is preached because through intercourse comes 
 friendsliip, through friendship comes love of men, and through 
 love of men comes love of God. Entertainment to have this 
 end must not be wholesale, managed by a contractor at so 
 much a head, but the result of thoughtful invitation followed 
 by personal welcome and individual care. 
 
 Comparatively easy as it was to entertain the parish or 
 church organisations, the members of which had voluntarily 
 joined because they had a common aim and hope, it was 
 quite a different matter to entertain the tenants, whose only 
 link was that of Uving in the same court and having their 
 rents collected by the same lady. But for them the elevating 
 influence of parties was also provided, and disagreeable and 
 exhausting as they often were, I can, on looking back over 
 the years, pronounce that the "pains taken" were well 
 worth while. The goodwill generated Uved long, and in 
 some cases the birth of self-respect could be dated from 
 respect offered and accepted. 
 
 " Why, she said she was glad to see me," said an old 
 reprobate with surprised pleasure. " Good Lord, I didn't 
 know anyone was." 
 
DIFFERENT STANDARDS OF HOSPITALITY 157 
 
 At first the people behaved badly. They pushed and 
 scrambled, pocketed the viands, picked the flowers, stole 
 the fruit, made unseemly noises, and rudely frohcked. 
 They also brought people who were not invited, told ghb hes 
 as they invented impromptu relations and unexpected 
 lodgers, and smuggled their children in. When the journey 
 had to be made by vans, watering the horses became 
 excuses for drinking. Indeed the first seed of the staunch 
 friendship between Canon Barnett and Lord Monteagle 
 was sowii in a pubhc-house, where they met in their efforts 
 to induce some of Miss Octavia Hill's tenants to leave their 
 gin and proceed to her party. But the firm refusal to admit 
 any except those invited, the substitution of trains for vans, 
 the personal reception by the hosts, the being treated 
 with dignified courtesy, slowly changed the attitude of the 
 guests. 
 
 It was not only our neighbours who gave anxiety. It 
 was sometimes the friends whom the hosts had invited to 
 help entertain the Whitechapel party. To these unthinking 
 people, the way to amuse the poor was to sing songs about 
 them, such as "Betsy Waring" ; to mimic their accents 
 and ridicule their ways ; to pretend to be vulgar in the 
 behef that it was sympathetic ; to press food with ribald 
 references to scarcity ; to act rudely and think it funny ; 
 to show in a hundred ways that they either did not beHeve 
 or preferred to forget the brotherhood of mankind. Gently, 
 almost too gently considering how indignant such conduct 
 made us at the time, my husband referred to these difficulties : 
 
 1882. — As a rule, the poor are not entertained as other guests 
 are. Their bodies are fed, and perhaps they are made to laugh, 
 but all that higher nature which longs for communion is un- 
 cared for. 
 
 The ideas of hospitaUty of those who received us and our 
 neighbours were very varied. At one party, given by Mrs. 
 Ashley Dodd when she was hving at beautiful Surrenden 
 Dering, I privately remonstrated with the butler at the 
 display of quite so much portable plate, and was told that 
 his orders were that the table should be laid as usual for ball 
 suppers. At another huge house, whose owners loom large 
 in the charitable world, we were relegated to the stable- 
 yard, and the tea, already milked and sweetened regardless 
 of individual tastes, was servedfin garden watering-pots. 
 One lady with the feeling of a true hostess brought the 
 
158 "AT HOME TO THE POOR" 
 
 Whitechapel guests as she would any others into a bedroom 
 to take their outdoor things off. 
 
 " Look, mother," said a girl of fifteen with dehght, " here's 
 a bed with a room all to itself." 
 
 In 1881 The Gornhill Magazine took an article from me 
 called " At Home to the Poor," and from its readers many 
 invitations came, as well as an acquaintance which resulted 
 in one of our most valued friendships. The article was 
 read by Miss Marion Grant — then hving with her brother, 
 Mr. Coriie Grant, before her marriage to Mr. Arthur Leon — 
 who wrote to offer to entertain a few children. 
 
 " WiU you have them tame or wild ? " rephed the Pvev. 
 C. M. Marson in our absence. 
 
 " I wiU have them wild," she repUed, and that the wild- 
 ness of " wild " Whitechapel children should be so easily 
 tamed by courtesy has been ^vrit large in her memory. 
 
 The usual standard then prevaiUng of entertaining the 
 poor is given in a reminiscence by Mrs. Leon : 
 
 Before we gave our first Christm'as party — 1883 — to some old people 
 and children, we consulted the Rev. G. Reaney as to the best method for 
 such parties. He told us that it would be wise to give each person the 
 portion of food they were meant to have " in a separate paper bag in order 
 to avoid tumult and strife." 
 
 Needless to say we did not do this. Following advice given in an article 
 by you "to give to the poor of your best," we made the tables beautiful 
 with white linen and flowers. The old people behaved like true gentle 
 people, and I think only one child put out a grimy hand and took a cake 
 before tea was quite ready. 
 
 So coui'tesy controlled " tumult and strife." 
 
 The CornJiill article was reprinted, and, when sent to 
 those who vaguely wished to be kind, served both to give 
 suggestions and set a standard. Five years later my husband 
 reported : 
 
 1886. — The habit of entertaining the poor is, I believe, grow- 
 ing. Rich people less easily dehver their consciences by 
 employing a contractor to serve a meal in a coach-house, or by 
 loading their guests with cake in a schoolroom. They are 
 realising that if they would follow their Master they must treat 
 the poor as their friends and entertain them with their best. 
 . . . The entertainments which have been given during this 
 year are more than can be mentioned, even if mention were 
 desirable. In all cases the hopes of the hosts have been, not 
 only to give pleasure, but linking lives together to link all to 
 higher issues. 
 
THE VALUE OF COURTESY 159 
 
 Yes ! such were the noble hopes of the hosts, but not 
 wholly from some minds can the sin of patronage be cast out. 
 One lady, who had bought houses in our parish, and who 
 had given the money for the fares for her tenants, wrote 
 to the Vicar to complain that " they had not been told of 
 her kindness," " as the people should know that there are 
 
 persons of Lord and my position who do care for 
 
 them." Perhaps he was wrong in not collectively pre- 
 senting the lady and announcing her generosity, but Mr. 
 Barnett had a keen scent for the spirit of patronage, or what 
 he called " irreverence to humanity." 
 
 In order to accentuate the courtesy on which so high a 
 value was placed, aU our guests were invited with a printed 
 invitation. Below is a facsimile of one sent to a dock 
 labourer and his wife, and by them treasured and lent to 
 me. 
 
 ^t. ^une'a Ticatace, aa3i)iteci)apel, C 
 
 on Sviixx^, sgtf ^une, 
 
 at dEielit o'riocS. 
 
 Zo cnUvtain t^tix ftknbe anb 
 feffowjwofftere. 
 
 ■gCljCH i)ope for t' pleasure tot is sibetx bt 
 2' company of 
 
 
160 CREATION OF SELF-RESPECT 
 
 R.S.V.P. was a source of wonder. " Reserved seats, 
 very pleased " was one of the suggested interpretations, 
 but it was soon explained, and was yet another tiny eSort 
 to ignore class differences. 
 
 It may not seem a great matter, but among the cures for 
 poverty I may put greater courtesy ; a wider recognition of 
 the equality of human nature ; a more set determination to 
 regard all men as brothers. . . Many a man is, I believe, hin- 
 dered when he meets with treatment which marks him out 
 as an inferior. He is discouraged by discoiutesy, or tempted 
 to cringe by assumption of inferiority. 
 
 At Christmas time we usually invited to the Vicarage all 
 the staff, voluntary or salaried, and then made merry with 
 the freedom which the intimacy of much co-operative work 
 allowed. 
 
 On one occasion we received the following note : 
 
 It is hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Barnett will be at home at eight o'clock 
 on Christmas Eve. They are requested to ask no questions, as prevarica- 
 tion is painful and difficult. 
 
 It was of this party held in our big drawing-room that Miss 
 Townsend has written : 
 
 One Christmas Eve some of us got up a surprise party to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Barnett, and impersonated contemporary celebrities. . . How the 
 Vicar enjoyed it ! How he chuckled when the curate of St. Jude's, Mr. 
 Boyle, fuUy equipped as Stanley the Explorer, advanced up the long 
 drawing-room with one hand extended and his sun helmet in the other 
 saying, " Mr. Barnett, I presume." Then came the Girl of the Period with 
 a cap and gown, and books under her arm. " Going to a lecture, sir, she 
 said," when Father Christmas asked her " Where are j'ou going to, my 
 pretty maid ? " The lecture proved to be on " The Extinction of Man." 
 (We were inclined to be militant even in those days !) 
 
 My brother and I were Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone, and the Vicar's eyes 
 twinkled with fun at my inquiry after " the poor dear dockers " — who had 
 recently had their great strike — and my request that Mr. Gladstone 
 should not be allowed to sit in a draught nor pressed to make a speech. 
 The moment of the evening came when our handsome grey-haired Church- 
 warden as the Old Year led forward his three-year-old son as the New 
 Year, to present host and hostess with flowers and messages of love and 
 hope, all inadequate to express what we felt. 
 
 As people who came to work with us realised that beneath 
 Mr. Barnett' s stern principles respecting relief was the desire 
 to create seK-respect, they invited those whose acquaintance 
 they had made in Whitechapel to Saturday afternoon or 
 evening parties at their own homes. Sometimes we went 
 to see beautiful or interesting things before the parties, for 
 
PAETIES IN THE WEST END ICl 
 
 pennies for fares were precious and had to cover more than 
 one joy. I rarely now go into the National Gallery, the 
 Abbey, St. Paul's, South Kensington Museum, " all the 
 Exhibitions which are free," mthout carrying the memory 
 of groups of Whitechapel inhabitants, ill- dressed unbathed 
 groups, whom it was a laborious pri^alege to introduce to 
 beauty, or to recommend the rare and unexpected pleasure 
 of observation. 
 
 Public exhibitions were, however, not always needed, 
 for among our hosts were those whose possessions afforded 
 abundant interest, and evenings with Mr. and Mi-s. Ernest 
 Hart, Lady Battersea, Mr. and Mrs. Russell Barrington, 
 Lord and Lady Brassey, Sir E. and Lady Burning Lawrence, 
 Sir Frederick Leighton, and Mr. Watts's Gallery, are among 
 treasured memories to many people who have chmbecl out of 
 the degradation of Whitechapel into purer environment. 
 Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1888. — Some of the happiest evenings I have spent are those 
 on which, with a party of Whitechapel neighbours, we have been 
 entertained as guests by our friends in the West End. The 
 presence of hearty friendship, the unconscious and refining 
 restraint of draiving-room surroundings, were all evident. 
 From the faces of those present it was possible to learn that 
 entertaining is a sure way of letting loose the Divine in man, a 
 sure way of helping him to save his soul. . . Those who break 
 bread together with the poor, still find that One is present who 
 turns the meal into a Holy Communion. 
 
 When we began parties no speeches were made, partly 
 because it was advisable that the East London guests should 
 be treated exactly hke others, and partly because at most 
 parochial " treats " — odious word — it was customary for 
 the parson to " say a few words," which were too often a 
 painful mixture of patronage and preaching. Precedents 
 have sometimes to be broken violently, but as the neigh- 
 bours learnt to beheve in the family freedom with which 
 they were welcomed, it seemed better to express the 
 thoughts of guests and hosts. Then either my husband or 
 I made httle speeches. What he said on these occasions 
 always sounded exactly right. Short, genial, dehvered in a 
 conversational manner and with a humiUty that kept his 
 own personahty in the background, he yet always conveyed 
 a definite thought, and brought grist to every mental mill. 
 Sometimes he spoke the ideas which have been given in, this 
 
162 MR. BARNETT'S SPEECHES TO THE GUESTS 
 
 chapter ; on other occasions he would lead us towards 
 faith in an earthly future of class peace based on mutual 
 understanding, or teU of the joy of extending friendships or 
 the memories which are " the bliss of sohtude." In all 
 these talks he somehow made us feel that we had joined 
 together in a human sacrament, and this without a hack- 
 neyed reUgious word or a " goody-goody " sentence. 
 
 " TeU me a joke for to-night's speech," he would often 
 say, but prepared jokes are seldom successful, and his were 
 no exception. 
 
 " They did not laugh at my joke," he would ruefuUy 
 remark, and took no comfort from being reminded that he 
 had told it too hurriedly and not made the point clear. 
 
 Have I written too long a chapter on entertainment ? I 
 hope not. It occupied a carefully thought-out place in the 
 plans for raising our joyless and often degraded neighbours. 
 
 A reference to the parish accounts shows that no fewer than 
 401 excursions and separate parties were paid for during 
 the years that my^husband was Vicar of St. Jude's. Besides 
 these there wer6 the many gatherings that took place in 
 the Vicarage, or in our country cottage, as weU as the 
 entertainments given by pubhc-spirited landlords who had 
 bought or built property in our parish, and who welcomed 
 the tenants in their own houses. 
 
 In every organisation friction arises, but people who 
 know other parishes said that there was curiously Kttle of 
 it in St. Jude's, a result largely attributable to the frequent 
 social meetings of fellow- worshippers and neighbours. In 
 1893 there was misunderstanding resulting in aloofness 
 between fellow-officers. 
 
 " They want shaking," we said to each other ; "let us 
 shake them up together with a Love Feast." 
 
 So we decided to commemorate our wooden wedding by 
 a congregational party. Wooden gifts were bought, and for 
 hours I recall keeping my patient husband writing his auto- 
 graph on paper-knives, napkin-rings, pipes, stools, table- 
 mats, book-marks, picture-frames — in short, anything that 
 was wooden and purchasable. The event was chronicled 
 in the February St. Jude's Magazine : 
 
 1893. — The congregational party on January 28th was made the 
 occasion of a celebration, from the very nature of it, unique in the annals 
 of St. Jude's. The guests of the evening were invited to commemorate 
 the 20th anniversary of the wedding of the Vicar and Mrs. Bamett. . . 
 
 The idea of gathering together their fellow-worshippers, to whose service 
 they dedicated their lives twenty long years ago, was a happy one, and 
 
WOODEN WEDDING 163 
 
 those who stood by and saw the heartfelt cordiaUty of each greetmg that 
 passed between the Vicar and Mrs. Bamett and the friends, old and young, 
 who pressed round them, could not but feel that whatever changes and 
 chances the twenty years had brought, time had but knit closer the bonds 
 of love and confidence. 
 
 Gay voices and laughter were in fuU swing, when the Vicar drew the 
 attention of the guests to an erection in the centre of the room, looking 
 like a large plunge-bath, decorated with Liberty muslin. Towards this 
 each guest was led blindfolded, and bidden to plunge, not his body but 
 only his hand, which emerged clasping a wooden present, folded in pink 
 paper. Everyone wondered how it came to pass that so blind a proceeding 
 should result in his gettnig the very thing he wanted, but as Mrs. Barnett 
 was standing close by when the dips were made, perhaps she wiU kindly 
 explain this in our next issue. When the 186 " dips " had been dipped, 
 an original and appropriate poem was addressed to the " old wedded 
 couple " by its author, after which the Vicar made one of the little speeches 
 we have learned to value so much, taking friendship as his text, and making 
 us feel that friendship has duties as well as joys. Then attention was 
 centred on the two enormous wedding cakes, which speedily disappeared, 
 as good cakes are bound to do, and the singing of " Auld Lang Syne " 
 ended a very happy evening. 
 
 It is but a few months ago that I had one of these 
 wooden gifts returned from South Africa wrapped up with 
 scrupulous care, with the request that I would again write 
 my name on it as the signature was fading. The Sam'l A. 
 Barnett was also blurred, and in his absence that could not 
 be touched, but I am stiU here, and so to please our faithful 
 friend I transcribed the name I had written twenty-four 
 years ago under gladder conditions. 
 
LETTERS, 1883 TO 1885 
 
 These letters have been selected from an enormous 
 correspondence. In some cases I have united passages 
 from more than one letter, in others only portions are 
 printed, but the date sequence has been carefully preserved. 
 In every instance they have been chosen to show some 
 trait in my husband's character. 
 
 Station Hotel, Yokk, April 12th, 1883. 
 My dbae Wife, 
 
 We have had a pleasant morning. After breakfast we went 
 to service hi the Minster and sat iu the nave. The place suited 
 me. I could not hear the words, only the sound of prayer and 
 praise. There was all that wondrous combiuation which goes 
 to make up beauty ; my thoughts went swaying up and down 
 and you were with me. What a relation between man and God 
 does such a place declare ! I tried to feel how the builders, how 
 the worshippers had got nearer their ideal as they had worked or 
 stood on this ground. Then the windows caught me and they 
 seemed like long hands with taperiag fingers pointing up to 
 Heaven. . . 
 
 When the service ended and the charm was broken by a 
 verger walking about as if the place were made for him, I felt 
 it had been good to be there and that it would be well to spend 
 many such an hour in quiet amid such influences. Then we 
 walked round and looked with our intelhgence. The voice of 
 the building is " look up for light." Every arch, every window, 
 carries our gaze upwards, and up above there is light like im- 
 prisoned rainbows. Even my colour-blind eyes were charmed 
 by the harmony in some of the glass of the fourteenth century. 
 At last we stood under the East window 75 feet high. 
 
 "' That," said the verger, " was done by a man named Thornton 
 who worked for 45. a week for four years." 
 
 It seemed as if there were no muUions but only suspended 
 colour — then as we looked the design became clearer. Below 
 were the individuals — men and women in labour or joy — above 
 they were gathered into groups, forming choirs and assemblies ; 
 
 164 
 
LETTERS, 1883 165 
 
 then it seemed as if all were gone and only symbols, birds, fishes, 
 etc., were left till in the heights were seen again the individuals, 
 now ta glory as saints and angels. In the window, harmonised 
 with perfect colom- and order, was the progress from earth to 
 Heaven. . . 
 
 I think I should lilie to marry a Cathedral ! ! Don't be startled. 
 I mean I should like to be one with its life and understand its 
 strength and gentleness. That is what Victor Hugo shows in 
 Quasimodo, but Quasimodo does not get the soul of his wife 
 Notre Dame. I can conceive a man who should represent a 
 cathedral thi-ough himself, as he represents his wife, but the man 
 would not be a Quasimodo. 
 
 After two hours thus spent we dawdled through the town, a 
 dear old town with shops ia which it was natural to look for 
 curiosities, a sleepy town where it was fit to dawdle, a picturesque 
 town where one was stirred to ask what we get by modern progress, 
 what is the object of this ever striving and climbing. Our two 
 nonconformist friends are beautiful. I threaten them with an 
 awful future : Bartholomew is to be verger in some Cathedral, 
 and Bolton i a lecturer for the Established Church. Both are to 
 be sociahsts. 
 
 There is no room on this page for what is most of all, and for 
 which the world is not large enough, the love of your Old Man. 
 
 S. A. B. 
 
 Queen's Hotel, Sunderland, April 13th, 1883. 
 To H. 0. B. 
 
 A met us at the station. His are The Works of the 
 
 town — he came to dine and then took us to see the said Works. 
 The streets recalled the description in North and South. The 
 works soon broke on our view, a very temple erected for the 
 worship of fire. With the memory of the Minster on me, so it 
 seemed ; the heavy rolls of smoke made a grand outline pierced 
 by the lines of pillar chimneys, and at the base were flames 
 which ever and anon rose above outline and chimneys. It was 
 a temple to fire, the creator, and we entered to see it at its work 
 of creation. It took the masses of iron and held them till the 
 iron became liquid and fiercely boiled. It held the boiling liquid 
 till, writhing in despair, it formed great crystals, keeping in the 
 new form the marks of agony. It took the masses, shaped them 
 on rollers, drew them along lines, and if every now and then the 
 iron spat and shot angrily, the end was the same, it was laid quiet 
 and cool ready for work in ship or tool. A different worship 
 from that of the Minster, suggesting a different relation to a 
 different side of life. The fife of " progressive" England with 
 
 Now Sir Frederick Bolton. 
 
166 LETTERS, 1883 
 
 its shipa, its railways, is what rose to my mind as being the 
 " other side " of the worship ; and then I thought of its relation 
 to the men, the priests, and it seemed to me that they were not 
 happy. They get higher wages, some of them £2 a day, but the 
 men looked not like Fra Pace, but stern and weary. I could 
 imagine that their only relaxation would be in the riot of a 
 public-house or of the Salvation Army. . . 
 
 I have been trying to get Bolton to write a modern " Divine 
 Comedy." Iron should be the subject-matter, and he should 
 describe how he had visited its Purgatory. Iron which has done 
 harm, he would say, he had seen in its various stages. Upstart 
 iron, the iron of this iron age to be boiled, as tea is boiled, would 
 be a worthy purgatory. Iron, wilful iron, the conqueror of genius, 
 treated with a pair of tongs, as boys treat a ball with a bat, drawn 
 here and there and caught in its career and thrown back, cast 
 along the ground and thrown in the air, would be another scene 
 worthy of a Bolton or a Dante. 
 
 Queen's Hotel, Sunderland, Ajjril Uth, 1883. 
 To II. 0. B. 
 
 The memory of yesterday's walk and visits is one of inex- 
 pressible sadness. I never realised that mother earth could 
 look so wretched. Under a deep grey sky, in which there was no 
 light, we walked over mounds of dirt in which the fowls pecked 
 but on which no grass would grow. The streams were foetid 
 and slimy, the paths were imliept, and lying about were brick 
 stones, broken implements, and garbage. Many of the houses were 
 in ruins and some disused chimneys were left to fall. It was not 
 the ugliness of poverty but of wealth ; everyone was too well off 
 to care for a bit of grass, too busy to tidy up, too anxious to move 
 to new quarters to care for the old. We went through the plate- 
 rolling works ; it was magnificent to see the power of the men 
 who tossed about the burning plates ; but with the thought 
 of the country around, I surprised Bolton by an outbreak against 
 civilisation. 
 
 " What is the good of progress if it makes the condition of life 
 so bare for the many that a few may have luxuries ? " "What 
 change has been brought about but a great increase of 
 population ? " 
 
 That however is only an outburst. Progress has done more, 
 it has brought man nearer man and raised the character of his 
 ideal ; the wrong is that the selfish instinct has been trusted too 
 far, trusted to preserve as well as to make comfort. Society 
 could enforce the consumption of smoke, the laying-out of towns 
 
LETTERS, 1883 167 
 
 and the rescue of open spaces. There might still be this magni- 
 ficent development of natural and mental resources without this 
 desolation. 
 
 I was encouraged by a chat with some workmen. The skilled 
 men get £4 or £5 a week, the labourers from 30s. to 40s. One 
 man had been to Wiltshire. " I could wipe the grass with my 
 handkerchief and it would not soil ; men, though, live on 8s. a 
 week and eat fowl's food. Give me the Tjmeside, where if you wash 
 often enough you are healthy. My children look out on seventy- 
 six chimneys and they are a fine lot." My heart went out to the 
 men ; one knew of Toynbee and sj^oke of the need of places of 
 recreation. They were independent, but not a bit rough. 
 
 It just strikes me that this is C[uite book kind of writing ; well, 
 dear one, who is there but you to whom I can -svrite my crude 
 thoughts ? and I like fancying you following me, though I wish 
 you could criticise at once and bring me up sharp, as you often 
 do, with a look or a question. . . 
 
 Last night we dined out and met A . He is a man of some 
 
 originality, she is a tiresome fool, a woman who would just drive 
 
 me mad. Mrs. B I rather liked, though I imagine she does 
 
 nothing but think of her health. 
 
 C has a blind Institution and wanted a motto. I said you 
 
 were strong at them, but I suggested " Believing is seeing." 
 
 Now good-bye. God make me one with you and ever yours. 
 
 S. A. B. 
 
 St. Jude's Vicarage, Whiteohapel, June &h, 1883. 
 To H. 0. B. 
 
 Mrs. Winkworth's party was lovely. I longed that you 
 should see it. Our address book had taken life, clothed its 
 members in soft and fluttering colours and put them on a 
 stage amid trees and sky. The carriages extended half a mile 
 and as I said the people looked lovely. Many and many rushed 
 at me and I told them of you and how you had taken in hand the 
 duty of getting well and were doing it thoroughly. Some seemed 
 glad to see me and came as if they expected words of wisdom 
 to drop as they came and went. It was pitiful to be able only to 
 say " how nice." . . . 
 
 This morning I went to breakfast with Bryce to meet some 
 Americans interested in dwellings. It was pleasant. But 
 why write all tliis ! When you get it you will be expecting 
 
 me, and as I write I am thinking of you — d d d 
 
 work. Don't let us think or talk of it. I am glad laziness is 
 about you. I shall enter it and take to it as my own ; love 
 and love for ever. S. A. B. 
 
168 LETTERS, 1883 
 
 Whiteohapbl, Jun& 27th, 1883. 
 To H. 0. B. 
 
 The Beaumont Committee did more and I got Currie to 
 authorise me to look out for temporary premises, which I shall 
 do. One step has thus been taken to the distant end of an East 
 London College. . . 
 
 The Tenants' party went well. The Talbots have a place on 
 Berkhamstead Down. You remember the Down, buried in a grove 
 of beech trees. The people were in ecstasies at Lord Brownlow's 
 flowers ; flowers excite them much more than pictures do, and they 
 could hardly be silent about their beauties all day long. Every 
 kind of preparation had been made. Even umbrellas had been 
 provided for each guest. Dinner had been bountiful and so was 
 tea. A. and B. and C. vanished to look for a squirrel's nest ! ! ! 
 
 Miss B voted to turn them out and send them home. I 
 
 opposed as they were so manifestly sober ! 
 
 The time passed admirably. After dinner we sat on the lawn 
 while some sang and the men smoked. I watched their faces. 
 The people are better, cleaner, more restrained and better dresseds 
 There is, though, no rest, no aspiration, no feeding on the meat 
 " ye know not of" as Christ said. Songs of old times caught 
 them and gathered a sad delight on to their faces. Old \\ Uson 
 was moved to make a speech, and stood in the middle of the lawn 
 with much gesticulation. He thanked " Lord Pembroke and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Talbot for being socialists and proposed a cheer for 
 Mr. Samuel Barnett." 
 
 After tea we went into the dark beech wood, a very temple of 
 sorrow with the bright line of hght on its edge. Lights were 
 lighted which made the leaves quiver, and then as darkness again 
 came a choir broke into the evening hymn. It was a striking 
 moment, our people would have been awed and were awed, but 
 the charm was broken by some shouting rustics. I thanked Talbot 
 and he was pleased. He pressed us, you and me, to go and stay 
 with them. He really seemed to wish it and I like Mrs. Talbot. 
 All, everybody, were full of real uiterest in your health and 
 hope for your recovery. We did not get home till after twelve, 
 and then I found your note and went to bed happy. 
 
 Whitechapbl, July Idth, 1883. 
 My deae Wife, 
 
 Here is a line in the early morning to say all is well and 
 in case I don't get back in time to write to-night. . . The 
 house is lonely, very lonely without you. What a machine I 
 should become, without you : there's a mission, to give life to 
 dry bones. My old bones move at your words, and even now as 
 I think of you and your will I live more life. My night was a 
 good one and I am well. The study is even pleasant and a cool air 
 seems to bring from a pure sky the morning hymn of the children. 
 
LETTERS, 1883 1C9 
 
 I am going to see Miss Octavia at three. I send you the only 
 letters of this morning. 
 
 I am thinking about your paper, and I tested myself yesterday 
 with the question " What wants saying ? " To this i could only 
 find the old answer. That charity is friendship and that institu- 
 tions which don't give friends are not charity. The subject is 
 full of difficulty ; charity has been so left to impulse, but ancient 
 and modern charity differ little. Impulse is now as in Abraham's 
 time. Discoveries change thought, not impulse. Perhaps the 
 charity of thought is something modern. However, don't fret 
 and I won't fret. Somehow we can do it, and you are my most 
 precious member through which wounds come most to me. 
 
 I am very sorry to hear so dreary an account of Alice. In 
 one way I hope for better things than doctors think. Alice has 
 great powers of recovery, and then after such work as she has 
 been doing a spell of quiet won't harm her. The Sabbath, whether 
 it comes willingly or perforce, is not loss of time. 
 
 Take care of yourself and don't do too much. To-morrow, 
 my day is 10. M.A.B.Y.S. 12. G. Smith. 1.30 luncheon. 4 
 Guardians. 6 Country Hohday. 7.30 Mothers' Meeting. 8.30 
 Flower Show. 9.30 Congregational Committee. 
 
 I enclose Frank's letter, and infinite and invisible love. 
 
 S. A. B. 
 
 The first of the two following letters was written just after old Mr.Barnett's 
 death, and the second while we were at the South of France trying to decide 
 if it was right to accept the responsibility of working Toi/ribee Hall — see 
 chapters xxi-xxiv. 
 
 15, Vyvyan Terrace, Clifton, December Z\st, 1883. 
 My dear Mbs. Courtney, 
 
 Once more on the last day of the year I write to you, liking 
 that last thoughts should rest on so true a friend. The old year 
 has been a grey year, and on its last day we have laid my father 
 in his grave. 
 
 To-morrow the new year opens with its new life, and we have 
 decided to go away to the south of France before begimiing 
 work. The pause will be helpful in many ways. . . I seem to be 
 writing only of ourselves, and yet I am thinking of you. Perhaps 
 it is in thinking of you that I come back thi-ough your thoughts, 
 to our concerns. I know you care about us, as we care about 
 you. Your life makes for us a bright spot in our future, and we 
 see you from your high place driving home the truths which 
 will make society wide enough for all ranks. The present seems 
 to be a seed-time in history, the furrows are open and the seed 
 must be sown. May God grant to you and your man the power 
 to choose and to do what the world wants. I was going to send 
 you — as my best gift — a photo of my wife, but in our late cares it 
 has been mislaid. I am, with much love. 
 
 Ever yours, Saml. A. Baenett. 
 1—13 
 
170 LETTERS, 1884 
 
 Mentonb, January 29th, 1884. 
 My dear Mrs. Courtney, 
 
 It was very sweet of you to send us a letter. Sunshine is good, 
 but the warmth of friendship is better, so your letter gave us 
 what we wanted by taking us into your home circle. Thanks 
 to friendship all seems to be going well at home. We have 
 sunned ourselves every day, but even light does not satisfy, 
 when there are few objects of interest to be lightened by it. 
 Sometimes I feel as if its strength were being wasted on the lives 
 of those who swarm in these hotels, build villas, and think every 
 doubt answered by the assertion, " You know we must live," . . . 
 never having meditated on " life," as Matthew Arnold says it 
 beh-oves a man to do. 
 
 Well, a visit here clears one's mind in showing that East End 
 surroundings are the best and that there we do well to remain. 
 More and more I feel called to preach the duty of a migration of 
 the rich to dwell among the poor. There should be a kind of 
 new Exodus. As I sit down for a chat with you, my mind shies 
 at its surroundings and goes to Whitechapel. I am drawn by 
 all that is going on there, and feel quite ready to take my share 
 in the work. We hope to be back next week, and we shall see 
 you on Thursday. 
 
 What a spell of life lies before us — before you the excitement of 
 a session of which you will be a part ; before us work upon work. 
 Our sowing has now to bring fruit and the harvesting will be a 
 matter of care. We shall see if Universities and great towns can 
 be related, if the West will give to the East more than recreative 
 amusements. I am somewhat disappointed with the ministerial 
 reply on dwellings ; I don't think a new municipality will do 
 everything. The state of Liverpool would shatter much hope. 
 But talk is better than writing, and as talk is near, good-bye. 
 With much love, I am, 
 
 Yours, S. A. B. 
 
 The following are extracts from Mr. Barnett's letters to 
 his brother : 
 
 April 2Qth, 1884.- — I should like to deliver my soul against the 
 Government, which is a Government by rhetoric, not by reason. 
 . . . The G.O.M. should retire. I believe he is getting like Lord 
 North, obstinately weak, and I am glad I never put him in my 
 gallery. ... At the Grosvenor we met Rawnsley, who has just 
 defeated the Railway in the Lakes. He looks rubicund and is 
 full of life. He has written a poem on the pictures of two bright 
 girls. 
 
LETTERS, 1884 171 
 
 May 1884. — Last night we dined at the Courtneys' and met 
 John Morley, whom we much lilie, though ho is a bit mad about 
 the francliise and thinks more votes will put things right. Every- 
 one is very uneasy and wishes Gladstone out of power. 1 expect 
 too the Pul.>lic is wishing us out of Egypt. Courtney sees great 
 danger m this conference, which will leave us bound. He has 
 his prinoiiDle, — and a principle, be it right or wrong, simplifies 
 thought, — " Let all stew in their own juice." 
 
 July \-lh, 1884. — I contemn this agitation against the Lords. 
 Let Government bring in a proposition to reform the Lords, but 
 it is despicable to attempt to govern by threats. It was a good 
 rule of the Kavy to admit no excuse. If a captain lost a ship, he 
 lost his place. The Government has not governed ; it has lost 
 control of the House, let it go. 
 
 August 1884. — I have been reading Maurice's letters. It is 
 gentle, soothing reading, suggesting peace and patience while it 
 shows the fire beneath. He felt the need of men knowmg 
 men and of the intermingling of rich and poor. 
 
 November \st, 1884. — Politics seem in a sad condition. Some- 
 times one feels that all efforts are built on a hollow while statesmen 
 behave as they do. Party spirit is overwhelming all principles 
 and all clear thinking. It seems impossible that our people 
 should learn to think except in exile and captivity. If only 
 men would study Jewish History, what a guide they might have 
 to politics. 
 
 Stadeu Faem, nb. Buxton, Juhj 1884. 
 My deae Feank, 
 
 We started on Tuesday with our pony and trap, getting to 
 Derby in the evening. There at the station we harnessed and 
 loaded and drove off through the rain. At 8 we reached a little 
 village and begged in vain for shelter at the inns. At last a 
 widow grocer took us in, and, having made up the fire, we got 
 tea in her kitchen. The next day the rain continued and we 
 stuck to our widow grocer. Thursday we, by forced marches 
 through the showers, reached Bakewell. We passed Matlock 
 when we had two hours of sunshine, a to'^vn crowded into a 
 narrow gorge. In idea it is a striking place and people would 
 talk if a town were settled in Cheddar cliffs. In fact, such a 
 town is close and oppressive ; the advantage is found in the 
 continual impulse to go up. Bakewell we liked as a centre. 
 
 On Friday with fairer weather we left for H! addon Hall, a 
 country house of the time when Englishmen had learnt to live 
 in quiet luxury and had not learnt vulgarity. The rooms are 
 
172 LETTERS, 1884 
 
 beautiful with oak panels, and large generous windows. The 
 grounds are quaint and quiet. We were charmed and pictured 
 the place restored to use as a kind of retreat, a convalescent home 
 for tired minds. A man like Maurice could have presided over 
 such a place. Chatsworth, to which we went afterwards, is alto- 
 gether different. Wealth had ransacked the world to make great 
 rooms, buy Italian art, frame the biggest conservatories, and plan 
 rocks into wild forms. The eff'ect was after all very small, and I 
 can't imagine Chatsworth filling any place in the time to be. 
 It is not a house to represent a home, and its things had better 
 be in a Museum nearer town. 
 
 Then we drove on here by one of the most beautiful drives I 
 have ever been, over hill and through dale, taking in the essence 
 of English beauty. Here we were welcomed by the dear Horsf alls 
 and here we shall stay. 
 
 With love for ever, S. A. B. 
 
 Whitechapel, August 1884. 
 To F. G. B. 
 
 In the evening of Thursdaj^ we left for York and got the last 
 room in the hotel and enjoyed the Minster service. What a 
 house that Minster is for worship. I think we want different 
 forms of building for different moods of feeling. It is not true 
 to say that Gothic is more religious than classical. In some moods 
 St. Paul's finds me as \¥estminster cannot. All parts, as Rabbi 
 Ben Ezra says, are good. The best is in their union. . . 
 
 Our last days at Whitby went as the others. The sea was as 
 fresh as on the first. Sailors will take their place among the 
 highest. They alone confess the substance in which they work 
 to be above themselves, and so they alone learn reverence as they 
 work. 
 
 Perhaps, as in the old days the sun was the commonest type or 
 image of God, in these days the sea might be. Francis Henry 
 might work out this thought and preach the revelation of the 
 sea, the Gospel according to the waves. 
 
 Whitechapel, Ajml 1885. 
 To F. G. B. 
 
 What about Afghanistan ? The Government has, I suppose, 
 been shilly-shallying as usual. Tilings so big must have had a 
 beginning. Seeley told me Rosebery is for fighting Russia, so I 
 suppose we shall soon be in for bad times. What a loss ! The 
 hands of progress will be put back, there will be no reform of 
 the sort we want, while thoughts of men are hardened by tales 
 of war. The real reason is political inactivity. The mass of 
 
LETTERS, 1885 173 
 
 men love their own work better than the nation's, so its concerns 
 are left to rogues or fools. The creed to be preached is " I 
 believe in principle which underlies all action, and I believe in 
 equality which consolidates all relationship." After all this is 
 only a modern dress for the two commandments which are 
 greatest of all. 
 
 Wi-iiTMOHArai., J/.:-7 Olh, 1S85. 
 
 To F. G. B. 
 
 The Soudan business is disgraceful, and in satisfaction at the 
 escape from Russia, its wickedness is being forgotten. I should 
 like to stir up public opinion, and wanted a meeting for 
 Courtney or someone of that sort. The worst sign of the time 
 is the exhaustion of feeling. These sentiments of pity and rage 
 have been so often worked that now men are not moved by 
 even shocking tales of massacre and sickness. The need is 
 good honest thought, and reason. Feeling may be the steam, 
 but it must be shut in the boiler of reason. 
 
 St. Jude's Vicarage, August dth, 1SS5. 
 My deab Fkank, 
 
 The event of the week was a visit to Whitechapel of the 
 Artisans Dwelling Committee. They called for me and J guided 
 them round and filled their minds with sound doctrine. Cross 
 dubbed me his "chaplain" and refused to go a step without 
 me. I hope some good may come. The Committee is evidently 
 
 in earnest and some of them are nice. I dislUied A and he 
 
 disliked me. He was anxious to shut me up, but I am to go 
 before the Committee. As they go on to coimtry work, I will 
 see that Hollond has your letter. 
 
 We had a pleasant party at the Rathbones' last night and met 
 there many M.Ps. with whom I again discussed dwellings. In 
 the afternoon I had been to a drafldng-room meeting re young 
 servants. Dull things are drawing-room meetings, and I could not 
 get a response though I did made a special effort. To-day there 
 has been a good meeting at the Mansion House. 
 
 Thursday I was interviewed by a man who wants to start 
 gymnasiums for boys on a paying basis. How men worship this 
 paying basis ; they think it an infallible test. Because we don't 
 want the foolish gifts, they think there is no room for wise ones. 
 By the bye, a man has just offered mo £100 to send out women 
 to the country after their confinements. A good thing, isn't it 1 
 
 On Thursday too, I did something about Boys' Clubs for East 
 London. That I should like to set up before I leave the East. 
 
174 LETTERS, 1885 
 
 There are one or hvo things still left to conquer in this world ! ! 
 In the evening we had a party at Bond's by the light of C hinese 
 lanterns. It was pleasant. 
 
 Wednesday was a people's party, so was Monday. 
 
 Dearest love, S. A. B. 
 
 Keblb Cottaqb, Lyme Regis, Aujust 1385. 
 
 My dbab Miss Townsend, 
 
 We are very sorry that you cannot come and share our 
 pleasure. Ours now is very real pleasure, the country is our 
 preacher and our poet, the sea does our work, and we ourselves, 
 like iiealthy children, play and laugh careless. There is no 
 such good place as a lovely slope by the sea for a holiday. 
 Somehow the loveliness saves one the burden of thinlving to find 
 out what is good. Through the silence, the beauty, and the grace, 
 the knowledge of good comes while we are passive. Somehow, 
 too, the sea by its ceaseless, untiring toil saves us from the burden 
 of idleness and we work by substitution. The strange doctrine 
 expressed by this last word gets a meaning and I get a glimmering 
 of the satisfaction of those who say Christ suffered instead of 
 them and that they are saved by substitution. This though 
 is a bit of a sermon, and not the letter of people who, blooming 
 with health, pass the day laughing and chatting, who eat their 
 dinner on the gi-ass and forage for tea in farm houses, who forget 
 there is anyone in the world who would scorn their freedom and 
 jo3^ Yes, I wish you were here to see us and join in our gladness. 
 Every morning sees us start at 11.30 with our baskets and a 
 book, and we do not return until 7.30. The day seems to fly, 
 and at its end we have only one memory which it is impossible 
 to analyse. 
 
 Yesterday we drove to Ford Abbey, finding our way there over 
 the hills and returning by the vales ; the hills are high and stern, 
 the valleys gentle and clothed in peace. The Abbey is one of the 
 old houses rescued by modern trade and made to serve the pur- 
 jDoses of a dwellmg- house. We went over the place and some 
 glorious tapestries of the Raphael cartoons. Perhaps these things, 
 so well known, pleased us most of all we saw in the house. 
 
 To-day is Sunday and the hush has come over tlfings which is 
 so fit for the day. I don't know what we shall do. Chui-ch with 
 its crowd is not in harmony ; we shall probably go to the lander- 
 cliff and get our quiet time there. Would that we could shed 
 some ofjthe good and quiet over you. I don't dare say you are 
 having it because we have it, yet in my heart I hope you may 
 find even that doctrine to be true. '■ 
 
 With^love, S. A. B. 
 
LETTERS, 1885 175 
 
 September 1885. 
 Deab Miss Townsend, 
 
 My wife is still in bed in the prostrate stage which follows her 
 attacks. To me it has not been hard to do the nursing, I have 
 rather enjoyed the power of doing so with a quiet mind. The 
 hard part has been the duty of walking and taking my pleasure 
 with the thought that she is missing her holiday. 
 
 I am very well and enjoy the cool breeze, but she would do 
 better in warmer weather. 
 
 Our next move is not clear. We may leave this on Friday 
 and then go on to the New Forest or to Clifton. I shrink some- 
 what from a driving tour with its chances of wet, and damp beds. 
 
 How good of you to work at our Prayer Book idea. I have 
 read your work with delight. I think now we can bring your 
 and my efforts together and make a good whole. I quite agree 
 with you about altering the rubric. In fact, I had come to the 
 conclusion that it was not possible to do so. Your plan of 
 explaining it is much better. I will now see if I can get it 
 published. 
 
 We have a great deal to talk about, and often wish for your 
 clear head and loving heart to help us see plainly. To-day we 
 were saying to each other how you have always stood by us. 
 
 I do wish you were having a holiday too. 
 
 With love, S. A. B. 
 
 Dartmook, September 8th, 1885. 
 
 Dbah Miss Townsbnd, 
 
 We are enjojong our little jaunt and I am glad we started. It 
 was an effort to shake clear of the comforts of Lyme Regis and 
 risk the dangers of cold, discomfort, and strange places. It is 
 good, though, I beheve, on hohdays to make such efforts, and 
 so I am coming to think that travelling is necessary to a re- 
 creating holiday. One must make efforts under all the pleasant 
 conditions of air and scenery and with fresh stimuli, to enable 
 one to make efforts in Whitechapel. . . 
 
 We like Dartmoor for its grandeur. The hills sweep in bold 
 curves and are worthy of their granite ribs, the dales between are 
 full of moss, ferns, and trees. As one travels, one passes at once 
 from stermiess to gentleness. Here, as in the greatest, force and 
 love are one. Our great pleasure, though, has been in watching 
 the clouds. Never did I see them as I saw them yesterday. Eng- 
 land is the home of clouds, and we yesterday had sunshine, thunder, 
 and Scotch mist. On a lonely point it was possible to watch the 
 play of giants, to look around a storm, to see the comparative 
 smallness of the thunder shower under which some city perhaps 
 was quailing. A stay here makes a good interlude in a holiday. 
 
176 LETTERS, 1885 
 
 Yes ! I hope the wife will do the National Gallery penny 
 catalogue some day. It is a big work but it waits to he done, 
 and the doing may be one of those things which tend to the 
 growth of good. You see it is only by growth that any real good 
 can come, so it is better to do what promotes growth rather than 
 aims at the good. And as to promoting growth, we have I 
 suppose to do more with the soil than with the seed, and a good 
 catalogue might prepare the soil of many hearts to receive good 
 which we cannot sow. However, I am chatting on and ought 
 to be packing. 
 
 With love, S. A. B. 
 
 Hastings, December 8th, 1885. 
 My dbae Feank, 
 
 We are just off to go home with a burden of pleasant 
 memories and a glow of health. It has been a good time and 
 we have enjoyed the bright sunshine, the rest, the talks, and 
 some work. I have done four newspaper articles on Chiirch 
 Reform. You will see one in the P.llI.G. I hope it may stir 
 you to action. . . Like other parties we have too many policies, 
 and have not learnt submission. Sometimes I wonder if any- 
 thing less than fire can pm-ge the world. I suppose, though, 
 if some of us don't try, the fire will burn everything and there 
 will be nothing to purge. . . 
 
 My wife has also done her share of work. She has put one 
 article in order, \\Titten another, kept up the correspondence, 
 organised parties, and planned good for a host of folk whom she 
 carries in her heart. The power of thinking of people according 
 to their characters, of bearing not only their demands but their 
 being is rare and precious. . . 
 
 On the whole the election will chasten both parties and both 
 need it. They who win, lose. The people to be pitied are the 
 Irish who, in the hour of victory, mil lose the qualities which 
 made them win. The " rich hardly enter." The successful 
 hardly win. Happy are the poor and beaten. 
 
 Wo have greatly enjoyed Edna Lyall's We Two, a novel without 
 a villain and in which love is strong by being silent. The authoress 
 has the art of making silence speak and she saj^s more than she 
 tells. In a strange way she makes the reader feel the force of 
 Christianity. . . 
 
 I have been reading Morlcy's Rousseau, and am not pleased. 
 One cannot see the man for the analysis, and one longs that 
 Blorley may be less eloquent. . . 
 
 Love of the deepest to you all. S. A. B. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 " Children should he taught to enjoy leisure . , . which should not he a 
 vacation, an empty time.'^ 
 
 Towards the end of the winter of 1876-7 Mr. Barnett again 
 became ill, and as the doctors said he required prolonged 
 rest, we did not plan as usual to travel, but arranged to go 
 to Cornwall, where he took Church duty for Canon Shuttle- 
 worth at Wadebridge. We hved in the dehghtful, if some- 
 what tumble-do^vn Vicarage of Egloshayle, and had a 
 wonderful holiday. Every morning after an early breakfast 
 we had three hours' steady reading — it was Jowett's Plato 
 that year — and then, having loaded the tiny two-wheeled 
 chaise with provision basket, oats-bag, sketching things, and 
 bathing gowns, we trotted off to spend the day out-of-doors, 
 returning to the evening meal with old Nurse and httle 
 Faimy. Because we went slowly we were able to go far, 
 and as the weeks went on, we learnt with more than a 
 casual acquaintance the beauties of that fierce smiling 
 rugged coast from St. Mawgan to Boscastle. My husband 
 specially loved the sea, but sometimes we cbove inland and 
 rejoiced in the great woods round Bodmin, the wild sweet- 
 scented moors, or the tantalising idiosyncrasies of " Brown 
 WiUy." 
 
 Miss Octavia, then both ill and unhappy, came to stay 
 with us, and in spite of our reverence for her we made her sit 
 " bodldn " in the little chaise, and compelled her to join in 
 our most frivolous pleasures. Later my sister and Mr. 
 Hart came, bringing their horses and larger carriage to add 
 to the carrying-power of the Vicarage, and then more and 
 more guests, rich and poor, gentle and simple, until fl'e were 
 both weary. But out of that weariness grew a movement 
 which has not stopped growing yet. It shall be told by a 
 writer in The Child, who, after speaking of my husband's 
 sympathetic understanding of the child nature, referred to 
 tiae Children's Country Holiday Fund, and wrote : 
 
 177 
 
178 GENESIS OF THE C.C.H.F. 
 
 In Mrs. Barnett's words the genesis of the movement can be given. 
 
 " Honestly," she said, " we had both got tired of the Buccession of our 
 guests ; they were all dear and delightful people working so hard in drear 
 Whitechapel, the children pining for all that brighter air meant, and the 
 joys of the sand and rocks, but it was our lioliday too, and the uncontrolled 
 laughter, and lawlessness of habits and customs, so innocent for them, 
 but so trying for us, had become unduly jarring to our tired nerves. 
 ' But there is stiU so and so and so to mvite,' we reminded each other, 
 ' and they do so need a change.' Just then we were walking up a hill, 
 the road winding between an undulating down on the right-hand side, 
 and fields stretching to the sandy bay and laughing sea on the left-hand 
 side. A little way back off the road stood a cottage, its tiny garden and 
 open windows speaking both of air and care — a comely woman standing by 
 the door. Like a flash from Heaven came the idea to me : 
 
 " ' Why should they not go there instead of to us ? They would Hke 
 it better, relieved from the restrictions of continual best maimers, and we 
 should get the quiet we need. We could meet them on the sands every 
 day and give them a " good time " and a tea picnic' 
 
 " ' What a good idea,' said the Vicar ; ' but they need not come quite so 
 far. The home counties would be cheaper for fares, and then we could 
 afford to send more of them.' 
 
 " ' But what about the people to give them a "good time" ? They 
 find the country so duU, if they are not shown its beauties,' I said. 
 
 " ' That will be all right,' my husband replied. ' The right people will 
 arise, when the need is shown. I wiU write to The Guardian and ask the 
 country clergy to take it up and suggest cottagers.' " 
 
 The summer was nearly over when that useful idea was 
 vouchsafed to us, but so effective were the rephes to the 
 letter in The Ouardian that nine ailing children were sent 
 that year to the homes of country cottagers for a fortnight's 
 hohday, and thirty-three the foUomng summer — 
 
 1878. — Thereby obtaining not only health, but that interest 
 in country life which is so wanted to form real national feeling. 
 . . . For children who, not recovering from any severe illness, 
 but only want change of air, the varied life of a cottage home, 
 the freedom from the restraint of rules, the possibility of form- 
 ing country friendships, are much greater advantages than the 
 presence of a doctor or nurse. 
 
 And if we seek for a deeper intent, it can be taken from 
 one of Mr. Barnett's addresses to those who were sending 
 the children away : 
 
 The ideal which I would place before all j'ou workers is the 
 salvation of the children, the elevation not just of their capacity 
 to be happy and strong, but the development of the power 
 to know God and love their neighbours. 
 
 During the summer of 1879, 173 children were sent away. 
 The next year — 1880 — Mr. Atkinson, Mr. Barnett's colleague 
 
RAPID GROWTH OP THE PLAN 179 
 
 to whom the work had been referred, reported that 433 
 chikken had had a radiantly good time. On his leaving us 
 in 1881 to become Vicar of St. Mary's, Huntingdon, the 
 inevitable Committee was formed and called " The Children's 
 Hohday Committee (East London)." Later — 1884 — it en- 
 larged its borders and changed its name to " The Children's 
 Country HoUday Fund," and since then has done the work, 
 collected the money, issued literature, and not only sent 
 956,253 London children to gain health and gladness among 
 fields and flowers and on sea-shores, but has been the 
 pioneer of similar societies in England, on the Continent, 
 and in America. 
 
 As the work of the Society grew, its problems grew too, 
 and organisations had to be created to avoid difficulties. 
 A constitution was evolved, and District Committees, Sub- 
 committees, Finance Committees, Advisory Committees 
 created ; regulations drafted ; forms A, B, C, D, and up to R, 
 instituted ; country correspondents discovered ; hsts of 
 approved village centres made ; a scale of parents' contribu- 
 tions set up ; principles for the selection of children laid 
 donm ; machinery for their cleanhness estabhshed ; rules for 
 country hostesses engaged ; and undue naughtiness, illness, 
 or accident provided for. All this machinery had to be 
 kept oiled and ruiming, as well as the money collected 
 and fresh workers enhsted, who had to be brought into 
 touch -with each other and pro^/ided with the necessary 
 Hterature. 
 
 To the C.C.H.F. Mr. Barnett brought as secretaries 
 men who were usually hving with us in Toynbee Hall, and 
 v/ho have since made their mark. Thus Sir Cyril Jackson, 
 Mr. Charles F. G. Masterman, Mr. R. H. Tawney, Mr. G. E. 
 C41adstone, Professor E. J. Urwick, Mr. W. R. L. Blakiston, 
 all began their official lives in the service of the children ; 
 while the names of Mi-. Reginald Bray, Mr. Austen Chamber- 
 lain, Mr. Clement Scott, Miss M. Sewell, who wrote for the 
 Society, will show what able minds served their cause. Mr. 
 " Punch " has ever been the friend of children, and charming 
 have been Mr. F. Anstey's whimsical sketches of small 
 people pining for a large sky. 
 
 Miss Ruth Verney's article is too good not to be quoted, 
 for it shows vividly the spirit of the ladies who gathered 
 the town children round thek country homes, and taught 
 them to enjoy simpler and higher pleasures than had been 
 their' wont. 
 
180 MISS RUTH VERNE Y 
 
 On a certain Thursday towards the end of July the London platforms 
 swarm with excited cliildren starting for a country holiday. At the other 
 end of the journey certain of the rural folk, and especially the farmers, are 
 shivering at the prospect of invasion by a horde of fence-breaking, apjile- 
 eating barbarians. 
 
 Now, the sucoessof the fortnight depends, to some extent, on the children, 
 but it depends much more upon the country correspondent. 
 
 It is lamentable that here and there villages are closed to the children 
 because one year they were insufficiently shepherded and got into mischief. 
 
 We have boys and girls between the ages of seven and thirteen every 
 year down in Buckinghamshire ; they say they enjoy themselves, and they 
 seem very happy, but their pleasure is as nothmg compared with ours. 
 
 To begin with the boys, my sister makes herself responsible for about 
 thirty. She goes from cottage to cottage in three tiny villages, finding 
 room for one here, and two there, and (in a few cases) three somewhere else. 
 
 On the eventful day the children arrive at our nearest station ; the 
 compartments are locked, but the boys caimot wait the pleasure of phleg- 
 matic country porters, and they empty themselves through the window. 
 
 Then, after much burrowing under the seats for brown-paper parcels, 
 and incessant happy shouting, we pack ourselves, a party of thirty-five, 
 into a brake to hold eighteen. The village population gathers in the road 
 to welcome us ; at each garden gate we drop the allotted boys, and a 
 beaming cottage-mother takes them inside for a hearty tea. Early the 
 next mornmg the park is alive with little boys, all clamouring for my sister 
 and a cricket pitch ; those who are down for the first time occasionally 
 forget their manners and show oS their cockney independence, but they 
 are mstantly cuiYcd into submission by our friends " the old boys," who 
 know and trust us. After that, the fortnight is one joyous turmoil. From 
 nme m the morning (when several little heads peer round the open door to 
 sec if they may joui in the hymn at prayers) till dusk, my sister is sur- 
 rounded by boys, big and little, healthy and sickly, noisy and (rarely) 
 quiet. About twice a week a formal cricket match is organised against a 
 village team, and London always wins. After seven days the treasurer 
 sends down a cheque, and every mother is paid 5s., 10«., or £1 accordmg 
 to the number of boys she is housing. Sometimes a woman can cook and 
 " do " for them, but has no spare bed, in which case Neighbour So-and-so 
 arranges to " sleep " them. The weekly visits on pay-day take some time, 
 as every mother is encouraged to talk about the boys and to report on their 
 conduct. Jim and Tommy Holland will play with the pump, little Garrett 
 took some plums, Scott fought a village urchin, and so on. A rebuke from 
 my sister generally puts an end to unpleasantness of this kind, and most 
 mothers have notliiiig but good to say of the boj's. They come everj' year 
 from the same school, and they know that six years back two really bad 
 boys were sent home during the first week, so there is a wholesome sub- 
 stratum of fear below their great affection for my sister. 
 
 Every encouragement is given to nature-study, and this year six boys 
 found a large snake. They subscribed for spirits of wine and kept it in a 
 large pickle-bottle for the school museum. Even the big boys make odd 
 mistakes ; spying two baby colts in a field, they shouted greetings to 
 them : " We remember you last year." Our hammock-stand puzzled 
 them a good deal ; " I expect it's a sparrer-perch " v/as the final verdict. 
 Boy Judd took a paternal interest in a WTCn's nest, and was disgusted when 
 the wren abandoned it after his twelfth friendly visit. Little Dawson 
 was extremely pretty, particularly in his best clothes. One Sunday he 
 
CHILDREN AND VILLAGERS 181 
 
 appeared in week-day garments. We said, " Why don't you wear j'our 
 white suit ? " " Please, miss, it's green," said the child, who had found a 
 grassy bank down which to roll. One morning a dead mole was found. 
 " What did you do with it 1 " " Please, miss, wo put it in the lottcr-box." 
 We looked shocked. " Please, miss, j'osterday we put four live frogs in." 
 We tried to expostulate, " How cruel ! " " Oh ! please, miss, we put 
 plenty of grass and stuff in, too, for 'em to eat." 
 
 The girls are every whit as quaint as their brothers. The same pro- 
 cedure is followed when they arrive, and special friends feci Providence has 
 indeed been kind when a wish to be together, expressed months ago to 
 governess, lands them in the same cottage " as each other." 
 
 I appoint my girls to meet me every morning at a given time m front of 
 the public Ubrarj', and the librarian is good enough to attend speciallj' three 
 times a week that they may have a succession of story-books. Country 
 lasses take a week, at least, to read anything, but the London child tears 
 the heart out of a story in one day. We then adjourn to a garden that is 
 lent us, and I give out notices of tea-parties, church services, etc., with 
 ecclesiastical sonorousness. If possible, we play rowdy games for half an 
 hour, during which the children are unconsciously revealing themselves to 
 an observant and amused " shepherdess." 
 
 Then they are all dismissed except two, with whom I indulge m a more 
 intimate talk, hearing about their home-life and making friends with them ; 
 there is also the opportunity of reproof, though this is seldom necessary. 
 This year Annie and Hetty made a fuss at country hours, and wanted to 
 stay up tiU eleven ; Janet and Mary gobbled down their food before the 
 scandalised cottage-mother could " ask a blessing" ; and one poor little 
 mite of seven used naughty words. It is, however, touching to find that 
 in every case a few gentle words are enough to stop the evU. 
 
 The tirst Sunday was our only wet daj', and Patt}' graphically described 
 cottage doings durmg a severe thunderstorm. " We aU got together ; 
 there was me and Mrs. Hodge and 'er 'usbing and 'er two ants and the three 
 children, and four from next door, and we sang 'ims, ' 'Ushed was the 
 hevenmg 'im,' ' Once a David's,' and lots more." 
 
 We met a small girl one day with a large paper bag of gooseberries. 
 " Have you been buying those at the shop ? " we asked. A little voice of 
 immense scorn piped out, " There ain't no gooseberry shops do^vn 'ere," 
 and we retired abashed. The same child was heard apostrophising a 
 nettle. " Well, I are a silly ! First I pinches me finger in the scullery 
 door, and then I catches 'old of you ! " 
 
 Frances came down with two skirts — a white muslin, which she tore to 
 shreds the first days, and a blue satin, in which she lived happily ever after. 
 
 Amy brought one hat only — a common rush hat, value perhaps 2|rf. 
 She is seven, but when the big thirteen-year-olds made disparaging remarks 
 on it she said loftily, " Don't you know it's Arley straw ? " which reduced 
 them to awed silence. I found afterwards that this name was invented on 
 the spur of the moment. We have a catalpa tree, which was at its best, in 
 fuU flower, when the children were here. Cockney imaginativeness soon 
 re-christened it more conveniently the " cat '11 purr." 
 
 We notice every year that the presence of the children calls out much 
 kindness and hospitality. Not only do the cottage-mothers " wash and 
 mend them " up to the last moment, but they go back laden with fruit, 
 flowers, and vegetables which they have certainly not bought. Our richer 
 neighbours invite the elder ones to tea, or give leave for a romp in a 
 pretty garden, or help with a picnic. I once drove a deUcate little girl to a 
 
182 APTITUDE FOR ORGANISING 
 
 rendezvous, and asked if she had ever driven in a carriage before. She said 
 " No. Yes, but I 'ave though, at me father's funeral." This year the 
 summit of our pleasure was reached when an M.P. and his wife gave two 
 guineas towards extra joys. The boys had a long chive in a brake, then 
 buns and gmger beer in the woods. The ghis had shiUhig and ninexjenny 
 books — old favourites of one's own childhood. A small person of eight 
 said ecstatically, " Nobody 'as ever giv' mo a book in my life before." 
 An older one said, " Father always gave me a book on my birthday, but 
 since 'e's died I've never 'ad one." Lamb's Tales proved extremely 
 popular and several of the girls asked breathlessly if the books were " really 
 to keep," though every one had the child's name in it. 
 
 There was quite a gloom in the place when the last day came ; the quiet 
 station was full of children with flowers, bundles, rhubarb, potatoes, 
 cabbages, and small, precious parcels of fresh eggs. One boy felt the 
 occasion hardly justified such flowers and suggested how nicely they would 
 come in for burying. A benevolent lady had hot buns in a basket, and 
 so laden were the girls with packages of all shapes that the buns had per- 
 force to travel as " inside passengers." We got them all off at last, after 
 endless hand-shakings and many promises of writing constantly. 
 
 I know that already there are a large number of country correspondents, 
 but if more of us realised the great pleasure of the work I feel sure the 
 C.C.H.F. would no longer have so many children on their hands waiting 
 for country homes and kindly shepherds. 
 
 The amount one sees of the boys and girls depends entirely on one's own 
 inclinations, but to those who love children the responsiveness of these 
 merry, grubby little creatures is most satisfying and wholly delightful. 
 
 Letters pour in after their departure full of gratitude and fond messages — 
 " Mother do think me wonderful brown " ; "I am so sorrowful without 
 you " ; " Hoping we might be able to come next year again " ; " With the 
 greatest of love, so good-bye for the present." 
 
 My husband had a natural aptitude for organising, and 
 greatly enjoyed using effectively the different qualities of 
 the various sorts of people who were ready to serve. He 
 was ingenious in suggestions and generally found employ- 
 ment for the most able or the most eccentric of his followers. 
 He had a clear and retentive memory, not only of people 
 he had seen but of those of whom he had only been told. 
 He was unfailingly optimistic, so much so that he was apt 
 to postpone facing difficulties, being quite sure that a con- 
 venient ram would be found in some handy thicket. He 
 gave a high place to advertisement, and produced some 
 original methods of popularising facts or stating needs, 
 though, unlike some philanthropists, he was scrupulous in 
 avoiding exaggeration or immodest exposure of private 
 pain. He affirmed that a line quahty of imaginative 
 sympathy was required for advertisement which should be 
 used to awaken — not to satisfy — pubhc interest, to remind 
 people of their privileges of helpfulness but not to plead 
 
EMINENT SUPPORTERS 183 
 
 with them to do their duties. His business acumen often 
 surprised men who thought he was only a tame parson, and 
 though he had had no commercial training, his active 
 sympathy showed him what " the other fellow " would hke to 
 have and what he would be prepared to give for it. 
 
 Such quahties are valuable in any large undertaking, and 
 not any the less so when the workers are partly permanent 
 officials and party transient volunteers. At the head of the 
 former stands Miss Finlay, who since 1885 has given not only 
 unstinted time and thought to the care of thousands of 
 children she has never seen, but has preserved by her lovely 
 influence that tradition of devotion which is the ruhng 
 spirit in the office of the C.C.H.F. 
 
 Mr. Barnett's conviction that the strength of a society 
 lay in the unity of its members resulted in many meetings, 
 when difficult problems were freely handled, he as Chairman 
 never allowing the practical points to smother the principles 
 affecting character, be it of the children, the villagers, or 
 the workers. 
 
 Beautiful and historic houses were lent for the annual 
 meetings, when distinguished people, holding aU sorts of 
 opinions, sank their differences and muted to aid the children. 
 
 Among the speakers or Chairmen were : 
 
 The Prince of Wales The Princess Henry of Battenburg 
 
 The Duchess of Albany Princess Mary Adelaide, Duchess of 
 
 Princess Louise Teck 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Adler Mr. George Lansbury 
 
 Sir George Alexander Sir Oliver Lodge 
 
 The Rt. Rev. Peter Amigo Miss Violet Markham 
 
 Miss Lena AshweU Mr Gerald Du Maurier 
 
 Mr. H. H. Asquith Sir Frederick MUner 
 
 Lord Avebury (the late) Mrs. Pember Reeves 
 
 Canon Bamett The Rt. Rev. the Bishop of Ripon 
 
 Mrs. S. A. Bamett Mr. Herbert Samuel, M.P. 
 
 Sir James Crichton Browne Lord Sandhurst 
 
 Sir William BuU, M.P. Mrs. Scharheb, M.D. 
 
 Lord Hugh Cecil, M.P. Canon Shuttleworth {the late) 
 
 Mr. WiU Crooks Earl Spencer 
 
 Sir A. Conan Doyle Lord Edmund Talbot 
 
 Earl of ErroU Professor E. J. Urwick 
 
 Lord George Hamilton Miss Violet Vanbrugh 
 
 Lord Hartington Duke of Westminster 
 
 Dean Hensley Henson Mrs. Humphry Ward 
 
 Rev. Sylvester Home Mr. I. ZangwiU 
 
 Of some of these meetings Mr. Barnett wrote to his brother : 
 
184 OUT-OF-SIGHT WORKERS 
 
 This afternoon I have to preside over the Princess Louise, 
 who is going to attend a Country HoHday meeting. To what 
 low uses is Royalty put. She is coming to advertise us just as 
 Millais's " Bubbles " advertises soap. 
 
 1886. — On Thursday after a heavy Whitechapel day we 
 went to a drawing-room meeting about Country Holidays. 
 There were some good speeches, a woman spoke best and urged 
 the value of silence for children, a time which they should 
 remember as a time without the noise which ever in town hurtles 
 in their ears. 
 
 1897. — On Monday we went to a C.C.H.F. meeting at Lord 
 Hartington's. My wife greatly liked him. He did his work well, 
 taking up and putting all the points simply and strongly. I 
 spoke with my usual inability and the meeting broke out into tea 
 within forty-five minutes. 
 
 It is only possible to chronicle those who came forward 
 in these organisations, but behind the figure-heads one 
 sees the splendid body of workers — town visitors, country 
 correspondents, members of local committees, the number 
 ever growing as the years passed, until in 1914 it stood at 
 2,872 ^ ; and beyond them again the unnumbered crowd, 
 teachers, cottagers, village neighbours, railway guards, 
 fellow-passengers, all united by serving the children ; 
 generous service, sacrificing service, effective service given 
 by those who " scorn to blot it with a name." 
 
 Through aU this growing organisation my husband ever 
 tried to instil one of the deepest principles of our work, 
 which, summed up in three words, embroidered by one 
 friend and framed by another, always faced us in our big 
 drawing-room : 
 
 ®ne bg ®ne 
 
 That the remiiider was necessary, aU who deal with large 
 numbers of people will recognise, for subtle and persistent 
 is the temptation to ignore the individual in the mass. To 
 him the individuality of each human being was worthy of 
 reverence. To develop it was a duty, and any step was 
 deprecated which tended to hinder personal relations, even 
 if it simplified machinery, reduced effort, or made it possible 
 
 1 The figvires ai-e taken from 1914 Report because it was the last normal 
 year before the war. 
 
MISS BEATRICE CHAMBERLAIN 185 
 
 to benefit large numbers. He held that the humljlest 
 family's home was better than the most highly organised 
 camp. How he influenced the workers is told by one of 
 them and reported in The East London Observer : 
 
 At a large gathering of women held in Toynbee Hall on Jane 11th, 1914, 
 to promote a Memorial Fellowship, Miss Beatrice Chamberlain said that in 
 Canon Barnett they found qualities which made him insjiiring as a leader, 
 fertile as an orginator, competent as an organiser ; a man courageous, 
 wise, unselfish, helpful, as full of zeal as of understanding, of charm as of 
 strength. She had the privilege of watching his ways of working for 
 about twenty years in the C.C.H.P. She sometimes asked herself how 
 Canon Barnett managed to fill the workers with so much enthusiasm, and 
 so high a sense of privilege in being allowed to serve. The first thing was 
 that he himself was unselfishly devoted to the cause he had in hand. 
 She could not imagine telling Canon Barnett that she could not do some- 
 thing that was required because she was bored or because she wanted to 
 do something else. He made everything so interesting, that they did 
 not feel there was anything else to do but what he had suggested. Then, 
 how receptive he was of new ideas. It was not with him as with so many 
 who say " This won't do ; that is not what we have done." He was always 
 ready to say, " That is a better idea." 
 
 There was something about him of the hero of old who went out to fight 
 the dragon, or of Generals who led armies against the foes of humanity. 
 Then his manner of leading was so unassuming. He had so much the 
 appearance of waiting for you to lead and to suggest, so little the attitude 
 of the commander that she did not know whether at the time they all 
 realised how much they were being guided and helped to take the best 
 way, make the most of their own ideas, and to put their strength into them. 
 But afterwards, on reflection, they knew where the real leadership was. 
 
 He was a great organiser of practical schemes, with rules and methods 
 and the necessary minimum of red tape ; but he never failed to realise 
 that every institution consisted of a number of human beings ; and if any of 
 them were in danger of forgetting that, his vivid sense of it brought them 
 back from the mechanical to the human action. He had knowledge and 
 judgment as well as faith and enthusiasm. But best of all was his power 
 of keeping ideals before himself and his workers. He fixed their attention, 
 because his own eyes were fixed on the beauty of the work to be done and 
 the beauty of service. 
 
 In 1904 Canon Barnett wrote a pamphlet on Experiences 
 and Hopes for the C.C.H.F., which was, is, and wiU be, 
 interesting. 
 
 The Children's Country Holiday Fund was born a pimy child 
 and grew slowly. Twenty-seven years ago (1877) nine chil- 
 dren were, at Mrs. Barnett's inspiration, sent from St. Jude's, 
 Whitechapel, to spend a fortnight's holiday with country cot- 
 tagers.^ 
 
 1 The number of children who have been sent out is 970,058, and the 
 amount of money expended £699,487, of which the parents contributed 
 £225,571 (1910). 
 
 1—14 
 
186 CANON BARNETT'S SURVEY OF 27 YEARS 
 
 This plan of holiday-giving was begun not only for the sake 
 of health and pleasure. There is truth in the old evangelical 
 teaching that the chief object is salvation of souls, but " salva- 
 tion " must be understood to mean the full development of human 
 nature. It is worth some sacrifice to make children happy and 
 healthy ; it is worth great sacrifice to bring out their powers 
 of thinking, of feeling, and of walking humbly. The plan of 
 giving holidays in cottagers' homes was started with this object ; 
 it placed children in family circles where they might have new 
 experiences of the meaning of family life — " Oh, do send me 
 there to hve," pleaded one child; "there's no fighting and 
 swearing, not even on Sundays " — it furnished their imaginations 
 with the memory of country pursuits and pleasures ; it brought 
 them into contact with Nature as in their freedom they met 
 it in its freedom. Above all, it developed their powers of 
 forming friendship with man and with God. . . 
 
 The work which was begun in this small way commended 
 itself to all sorts of philanthropic minds. It was economical ; 
 it was something which could be begun and finished ; it had a 
 measurable result in children's pleasure and health. It thus 
 satisfied good people in a hurry, as well as those who believed 
 in the slow development of character. Many individuals "■ 
 adopted the plan, and so some kind of organisation became 
 necessary to prevent that competition in good doing which so 
 often makes charity harmful. 
 
 The history of the twenty-seven years has, on the whole, 
 been happy. There has been a continuity of pohcy unbroken 
 by any catastrophe, and there has been growth. 
 
 A survey over the past, as Chairman, shows that there has 
 been constant rivalry between what I may call the forces of 
 freedom and the forces of order. On the side of freedom it has 
 been felt that the chief things are (1) the development of the 
 child's body, mind, heart, and reverence ; (2) the fostering of 
 goodwill between individuals ; and (3) the formation of friend- 
 ships. On the side of order it has been thought all-important 
 (1) that parents' pa3Tnents should be sufficient ; (2) that 
 disease should be prevented ; and (3) that imposture should 
 be checked. 
 
 It is a great matter to secure the freedom in which a child's 
 character may strengthen itself, and it is also a great matter 
 to secure the order which prevents loss and disease, but obviously 
 the two may clash. My experience is that the cause of free- 
 dom suifers. The disposition to require fixed pajmients from 
 parents grows stronger, parties of children tend to get larger 
 and organised, organising superintendents are more generally 
 
 ' Among the most active of those early workers for the C.C.H.F. was 
 the Rev. J. Bayfield Clark, who was ever the loyal friend and efficient 
 supporter of my husband. 
 
THE FORCES OP FREEDOM AND ORDER 187 
 
 advocated in villages, and the way of camps for the many is 
 frequently prefeiTed to that of cottages for the few. 
 
 There are, doubtless, good argiunents to su]iport such pro- 
 posals. Unscrupulous parents do take advantage to give as 
 pocket-money to their children what they ought to have sub- 
 scribed to the fund. Country correspondents are souietiuies 
 neglectful hosts, and elder boys are often troublesome visitors. 
 There is reason, therefore, in those who ask that parents should 
 pay a fixed amount, that men and women should be employed 
 as superintendents, and that for the unruly the discipline of 
 camps should be substituted for the freedom of the cottages. 
 
 But it is not always reason, so much as love of ease, wliich 
 desires to put restriction on freedom. It requires time and 
 patience really to interest parents and show them that their 
 meanness will be another child's loss. It involves much exer- 
 cise of thought to rouse up country people to take their share of 
 the town people's burden, and it takes many visits to schools and 
 teachers before children are fitted to go to the country ready to 
 watch Nature and care to listen to her voice. It may bo more 
 expensive, but it is much easier, to pay for camp organisation 
 than to choose cottages carefully and surround the children 
 with influences which, like angels, keep them safe without the 
 check of rules and regulations. It is less trouble to raise money 
 by reports of orderly conduct, and by a show of well-behaved 
 children, than by asking the public to believe in the hidden 
 growth of goodwill, in the increased play of minds, and in the 
 budding of new affections. 
 
 Reason may require some check on abuses, but reason does 
 not say that more rules are necessary, when time and patience 
 and sympathy would be as effective. Wealth tempts to luxury, 
 and wealthy charities often adopt the luxury of institutions. 
 Institutions are not the glory, they are often the shame of 
 Christian charity. . . 
 
 What are the hopes of the Children's Country Holiday Fund ? 
 Hope has a far view and a near view. Every charity must 
 hope to make itself unnecessary ; a healthy charity exists to 
 destroy itself. As St. John says, there is no Church in 
 Heaven. 
 
 The Children's Country Holiday Fund must therefore hope 
 that some day the necessity of a country holiday will be xnd- 
 versally recognised, and that every child out of the resources of 
 its own parents and friends mil enjoy such a holiday. But this 
 end is far off, and the workers, while keeping it in view, must 
 have many nearer hopes on which to rest. Those hopes may 
 b^- 
 
 First, an extension of the holiday season. The crowding of 
 all holidays into one month is tending to destroy country peace 
 and drown the voices of Nature. The habit of day-treats spreads 
 a wrong idea of pleasure ; it involves the vulgarity of advertise- 
 
ISS CANON BARNETT'S HOPES FOR C.C.H.F. 
 
 ment and dependence on excitement ; it leads children to think 
 there is no enjoyment but that which is made by shouting, by 
 donkey-rides, and by wild play at some popular resort, made 
 as like as possible to a London playground. Our energies 
 sliould go, therefore, to getting schools to take holidays in other 
 moxiths between May and Septemljer, and to discrediting day- 
 treats. Plam speaking among friends is, perhaps, out of 
 fashion, but there is room for some straight, plain speaking, to 
 people who, in the face of knowledge, persist in advertising 
 their churches or schools by monster day-treats. 
 
 Our second hope should be a closer alliance with other funds. 
 This would prevent competition among charities and over- 
 crowding in cottages. . . 
 
 Oiu- third hope may be further delegation of the Central 
 Authority. The promise of a wider system of education in 
 London has caused a thrill of expectation, and it now seems 
 fairly certain that under one Educational Authority responsible 
 Committees will be established in defined areas. It would be 
 possible for each of such Committees to appoint a " Cliildrcn 
 Committee,' ' composed of its own members and other interested 
 persons. This Committee should be a permanent body and 
 have under its care all the interests of children when out of 
 school hours. It would, for instance, arrange for their play- 
 hours, for Saturday outings and visits, for provision of neces- 
 sary meals, breakfasts or dinners, and for the management of 
 vacation schools. Its members should know the children and 
 their parents in an intimate way : thus in the summer they 
 would be qualified to arrange the summer holiday with an 
 efficiency born of knowledge. . . 
 
 These hopes, as they are realised, would allow room for the 
 action of personal care and for the enthusiasm wliich comes of 
 originality. If, as it seems to me, there are now fewer signs of 
 personal care and of enthusiasm than in the earlier days, it is, 
 1 believe, because there is less room for original action. My 
 hope, therefore, is that with the old ideal of the salvation of the 
 child, more room may be given for new developments, for 
 change, for original advice, which may even frighten some of 
 us who are familiar with the ways of twenty-seven years. 
 Of one thing I am certain, and with this I conclude. If the 
 Children's Country Holiday Fund does not draw to itself the 
 patience, the devotion, the sacrifice, and the enthusiasm of indi- 
 viduals, it can never succeed in making itself unnecessary. 
 
 Few things gratined and touched Canon Barnett more than 
 the refusal of the Council to accept liis resignation of the 
 Chairmanship tendered in 1912, because the weak condition 
 of his heart made it undesirable to walk up the steep stairs 
 to the office at 18, Bucldngham Street. 
 
NATURE STUDY FOR CHILDREN 189 
 
 " As you cannot come to us, the Executive means to 
 come to you," wrote our friend Mss Beatrice Chamberlain ; 
 and so after that decision the C.C.H.F. Committee met in 
 the dining-room of our house in the Westminster Cloisters. 
 
 Later, however, advancing ill-health made it necessary 
 for liim to reserve what strength he had for his Abbey 
 duties, and on January 16th, 1913, he felt it to be fair to 
 write as follows : 
 
 My dbae Viob-Chaieman, — The time has come when I feel 
 I must say "Goodbye" to the Committee. It is hard to do 
 so, but when weak health prevents work, the clear duty is 
 resignation. 
 
 I feel greatly the severance of such an old tie, and as I write 
 I am conscious of all I have gained for heart and mind at the 
 meetings. There has been a wonderful succession of members, 
 and the Committee has never been satisfied just to walk in the 
 steps of its predecessors. 
 
 I am proud and grateful, and as I say " Goodbye," I offer 
 such service in the future as I can possibly give, though T am 
 confident that the Committee has in itself strength which will 
 more than outweigh my absence. 
 
 To yourself, who have so long and so generously covered my 
 deficiencies, I am specially grateful. Ever yom's, 
 
 Samuel A. Baenbtt. 
 
 To Feancis Moeeis, Esq.^ 
 
 In 1898 my husband and I took part of our hohday 
 bicycling to visit the children in the country. We were 
 charmed but not surprised at their dehght in their freedom, 
 the kindness of the cottage hostesses, the interest of the 
 village residents, from the squire and the parson to the farm 
 hand who mounted adventurous boys on the huge bare- 
 backed horses ; but we were also sorry because the amazing 
 ignorance of the childi-en deprived them of the pleasures 
 they could have had by inteUigent interest in the sights 
 and sounds of the country, and because they played, amid 
 all its wonders, only their often degraded to^vn games. 
 
 llr. Barnett did not hke the study of Natural History. 
 I have never known any man who revelled as he did in 
 Nature's beauties, yet for what he called dissecting them 
 he had no sympathy. But I felt that the curiosity inherent 
 
 ' Now the Chairman, with patient enthusiasm keeping the Society up 
 to its full working capacity. 
 
190 THEIR 6,745 LETTERS 
 
 in children, if turned on to the facts in the world of Nature, 
 would provide for them the best of present and future 
 country joys. So on returning home I started, with one 
 of the Toynbee Residents, Mr. R. E. S. Hart,^ a small effort 
 in the hope of interesting children sent from East London to — 
 
 observe the bixds and flowers, the sky and animals, for we believe that 
 in so doing they may find pleasure and profit, and that by degrees observa- 
 tion will develop both reverence and care.^ 
 
 We asked the children questions and they wrote letters ; 
 and to the best we awarded prizes of flower-pictures and 
 books on ants, bees, birds, and animals, and it was great 
 fun. Then in 1903 the Children's Country Holiday Fund 
 adopted my baby, and we were turned into a Committee, 
 of which I am still the Chairman, and Mrs. Douglas Wilson 
 the wonderful Hon. Secretary ; and now we have rules 
 and regulations, rambles, lantern- talks, trophies, great 
 prize-givings, and dehghtful co-operatively written printed 
 letters, to wliich in 1914 no less than 6,745 children wrote 
 replies — precious documents, some full of patient observa- 
 tion, others shomng flashes of poetic insight or subtle sym- 
 pathy with our brothers the beasts, some humorous in their 
 gay unconsciousness, some shocking in their sordid out- 
 look, and all pathetic in the enjoyment of regular meals, 
 rehef from responsibihties, and the surprise of better health. 
 Some of the remarks are worth quoting : 
 
 " The grass-hopper is a very lightsome insect." " One of the sheep was 
 named Lord Kitchener. Wherever it went the other sheep would follow 
 it." " The cow has large thoughtful ej'es, and is an oblong animal." " I 
 have heard of a small bird Ti'hich had a very large appetite. In one day 
 it ate one hundred and forty-four insects, assorted, twelve grasshoppers, 
 twelve meal worms, one caterpillar, and fifteen flies." " The poppy loves 
 to intrude amongst the corn." " I went every mornmg to the mflk factory 
 to get some milk and cream." " The pig whose body is made of pork, 
 bacon and dripping." " The stream in the vQlage was very happy, jump- 
 ing from ledge to ledge." " The lady did our hairs and said ' Good-night,' 
 and we went upstairs to bed. The sheets were lovely and white." " The 
 most unhappy day of that lovely fortnight was when we had to pack our 
 boxes and prepare for home." " We sang in the train coming home to 
 keep ourselves from crying because we were so sorry to leave the nice 
 country." " My little brother was glad to see me back again. He looked 
 as white as snow and I looked brown." 
 
 ' Of the Board of Education. 
 
 '^ Town Ghildren and Country Interests, by Mrs. S. A. Bamett. 
 
MR. F. MORRIS 191 
 
 How pathetic are the last three entries, for it was not 
 only the conclusion of the hohday that made the writers 
 sad. Some town children have a genuine love for the 
 country. 
 
 I enjoyed myself very much, I cannot explain how much. Please God 
 next year I will come again. As I sit at school I always imagine myself 
 roaming in the fields and watching the golden com, and when I think of 
 it, it makes me cry. 
 
 And those tears wiU find companions in the hearts which 
 ache for the joyless hves of our town children, weighted by 
 responsibiUties, crippled by poverty, robbed of their birth- 
 right of innocent fun. The ecstatic joy of children in re- 
 sponse to such simple pleasures tells volumes about their 
 drab existence, as their appreciation of adequate food and 
 their warm recognition of kindness represent privation and 
 surprise. In a deeper sense than Wordsworth used it, 
 " Their gratitude has left me mourning." 
 
 I know, and no one better, the countless servants of the 
 people who are toiling to relieve the sorrows of the poor 
 and their children, but until the conditions of labour, of 
 education, and housing, are fearlessly faced and radically 
 dealt with, their labour can only be paUiative and their 
 efforts barren of the best fruit. Perhaps one of the flowers 
 that wiU grow from the blood-soaked roots of war will be 
 the estabUshment of more people on the land. 
 
 This chapter can close with an extract from the Annual 
 Report of the C.C.H.F. and a letter signed by Mr. F. Morris, 
 for whom my husband had so great an appreciation. 
 
 Until the last few months of his long and eventful life Canon Bamett 
 remained the Chairman of the Children's Country Holiday Fund, inspiring 
 his fellow-workers, welcoming fresh suggestions arising from any source, 
 realising with prophetic instinct what was valuable and desirable to make 
 permanent, or what was merely effervescent, or an eddy in the main 
 stream. As Chairman he was both firm and patient, helping every member 
 of the Committee, even amid conflicting interests, to realise the other 
 person's point of view, and through all seeking and maintaining peace ; 
 creating as it were a large canopy of peace under which individual roots of 
 effort, stimulus, restraint, and individuahty grew and brought forth varied 
 flowers of service for childhood. 
 
 That his influence did not end with his life the following touching letter 
 indicates : 
 
192 MRS. HAROLD SPENDER'S POEM 
 
 CHILDREN'S COUNTRY HOLIDAY FUND 
 
 To the Editor oj " The Times" July 14th, 1913 
 
 Sir, — It was Canon Bamett's wish, written in a letter dated July 1st, 
 1909, and left to be opened after his death, that flowers should not " spend 
 themselves on my dead body, but in giving joy and comfort to living 
 people." This wish a small group of his friends, led by Mrs. Harold 
 Spender, endeavoured to carry out by suggesting in the letter signed by 
 the Bishop of London (and others) which you, Sir, were good enough to 
 publish, that all " those who would have Liked to send some floral tribute 
 should give such assistance to this fund as to enable more children to go 
 into the country to learn lessons from the flowers." As Chairman of the 
 Pund I have just received the sum of £160 8s. lOd., and the accompanying 
 pathetic poem addressed to Mrs. Bamett from Mrs. Harold Spender, who 
 adds the money was " given lovingly and coUeoted lovingly." 
 
 To Mrs. Bamett 
 
 This little token we have brought 
 
 To show our love and grateful thought 
 
 Of you and him, who helped us ever 
 
 To raise our minds to high endeavour. 
 
 He wished that summer's blossoms brave 
 
 Should live — not die upon his grave ; 
 
 So we'U take children from the street 
 
 And let them play in meadows sweet. 
 
 And resting in the hedgerow's shade 
 
 Feel God is good and all He made. 
 
 For you and he together cared 
 
 To make God's gifts and treasures shared. 
 
 Just as God wills, by every one, 
 
 Not all for some, for others none. 
 
 You and your loved one sowed the seed 
 
 Of many a noble thought and deed ; 
 
 And your good thought by God's good grace 
 
 Shall make each solitary place 
 
 And wilderness rejoice with singing 
 
 Till all the desert shall be ringing 
 
 With joy ; and where now nothing grows 
 
 Shall bloom abundantly the rose. 
 
 Violet Spender, 
 
 Thus, by this personal effort, unorganised and unadvertised, some 320 
 more children will go into the country for two weeks this year than other- 
 wise could have been sent, a " floral tribute " in accord with our late 
 Chairman's spirit, and one that will " give joy to living (little) people." 
 
 The names of the donors will be published m the Annual Report of the 
 Children's Country Holiday Fund, which will be sent to each in due course. 
 
 I am. Sir, yours truly, 
 
 Francis Morris. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " A man may be a Christian and a soldier. . . The least self-assertive 
 individual may fight to destroy tyranny." 
 
 During the early years of our Whitechapel life, 1873 to 
 1880, Mr. Barnett liked fighting. Most young men do, and 
 he fought with passion for the pubhc good. Among the 
 conflicts in which he engaged was one against a tripe- 
 boihng estabhshment, " the effluvia of which pours into 
 your neighbours' windows." Another resulted in a sum- 
 mons against the proprietor of the " Angel " pubhc- house. 
 The local press reported : 
 
 1878. — Police-Constable 218H deposed that on the evening of the 3rd 
 inst. he heard screams proceeding from the defendant's house, and going 
 to the door saw two women on the floor in front of the bar. They were 
 fighting and tearing each other's hair. He separated them, and one went 
 out. Both were drunk, and the defendant's attention was called to the 
 woman who remained. He said she was not drunk and refused to put her 
 out. . . Mr. Bushby dismissed the summons. 
 
 It was this criminal indifference of the magistrates to the 
 standards of conduct in such pubhc-houses that added to 
 the difficulty of teaching the people self-respect, and made 
 the Vicar anxious to fight the iniquities of small badly- 
 hghted half-hidden beer-houses, " sing-songs " in gin 
 palaces, and " friendly leads " in pubhc-houses. 
 
 1877. — We ought to make a direct effort agaiast these evils ; 
 fights between the drunken are of daily occurrence, and the 
 gutters of the streets are sometimes lined with drunken women. 
 This could not be if the law were observed and the publicans 
 refused to serve those who were already intoxicated. The police 
 have failed to check this abuse, and we want, therefore, the 
 help of those who, watching, will be able to give such evidence 
 as will justify the magistrates in punishing . the drunken, and 
 in reducing the ntimber of licensed houses by refusing licences 
 to those who conduct their business badly, liouses arranged 
 for the comfort rather than for the dazzling of the guests, and 
 
 193 
 
1»4 DIVISION OE PAEISHES 
 
 the law strictly administered, would, I think, be more powerful 
 in diminishing drunkenness than either legislation or a teetotal 
 crusade. . . 
 
 As the last sentence shows, Mr. Barnett recognised the 
 value of counter-attractions and supported the Cafe Com- 
 pany which owed its inception to Miss Emma Cons and 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Hart. 
 
 With Bishop Jackson my husband had a lively alterca- 
 tion, which the Rev. V. A. Boyle summarised as follows : 
 
 The Mission District of St. Augustine's was carved out of St. Philip's, 
 Stepney, and supported by the Bishop's Fund. The district wanted to be 
 a separate parish. The promise had been made of help to buEd a Church 
 if a site could be secured. The Bishop was prepared to redeem the promise 
 when, led by Sir. Barnett, the neighbouring parsons, among whom were 
 the Rev. Harry Jones, the Rev. J. Kitto, and the Rev. Dr. Alexander 
 Ross, produced an influentiaUy signed petition against building the Church 
 on seven grounds, three of which were that : " Any increase in the number 
 of nearly empty or only haU-fiUed Churches is not likely to advance the 
 cause of true religion." " If a new Church is built it should occupy a 
 prominent position in a main thoroughfare, and not be thrust into a back 
 street." " We should greatly grieve to have amongst us yet one more 
 monument to spread the fact that the Church of England has failed to gain 
 the masses of the working-classes to the Lord." 
 
 The Bishop's contention was that, whether Bishop Blomfield's policy of 
 multiplying Churches until there was one for every 4,000 or so of popula- 
 tion was right or wrong, the Bishop of London's Fund was committed to 
 it untQ the policy was altered, and as regards St. Augustine's he was com- 
 pelled to redeem the pledge given. From his letters may be gathered the 
 good Bishop's annoyed surprise at receiving from " his esteemed clergy " 
 a bombshell like their petition ! " What can be gained," he wrote, — " when 
 the matter is so far advanced that I could not draw back even it I wished 
 to do so — by placing me in a position of antagonism with some of my clergy, 
 I cannot understand." 
 
 For those who do not know East London, it is well to 
 add that St. Augustine's was built, and — ■ 
 
 Draws as large and indeed a larger congregation than most of the neigh- 
 bourmg Churches. Its ritual is that of the extreme High-church party. 
 
 So perhaps my husband was wrong, but he never failed 
 to protest against the division of big parishes, arguing that 
 there ought to be more scope in the Church for men with 
 powers of organisation and force of personality. 
 
 " There are no adequate places for the best men unless 
 they consent to become Bishops," he used to say, " and 
 then they are apt to be strangled by their own gaiters." 
 
 With the help of Mr. James Bonar, then an undergraduate 
 lodging in Arbour Square, Mr. Barnett arranged a public 
 
THE " DUST DISTRIBUTOR " 195 
 
 meeting to protest against the war vote during the " Jingo " 
 agitation against Russia — 1876. The bills for the expenses 
 of the meeting include one for " the repair of broken plat- 
 form, tables, seats, desks, and various furniture " ; for the 
 audience showed their disapproval of peace talk by war- 
 like action, and wielded chair backs and table legs to enforce 
 their opinions. 
 
 The dust-destructor, which we renamed the " dust- 
 distributor," was a matter of contention with the authorities : 
 first, because the dust from the houses of the rich was 
 brought to be consumed amid the homes of the poor — aU 
 day long uncovered carts filled with rubbish, often smeUing 
 offensively, passed under the windows of the peoples' one- 
 roomed homes, the dust flying freely ; and secondly because 
 the refuse was so inadequately consumed that — ■ 
 
 1889.— The destructor in Wentworth Street vomits fortli its 
 clouds of dust, chokes the drains, and makes harder that fight 
 with dirt in which so many of the poor show heroic quaUties, 
 and in which so many give up, letting in on their homes drink, 
 gambling, and sloth. 
 
 After one of Mr. Barnett's pubUc complaints, we were 
 officially invited to view the destructor and its apphances, 
 with which we were duly impressed, but the practice did 
 not support the theory, and the additional cost of clearing 
 gutters, cleaning windows, and washing curtains was con- 
 siderable in our large estabhshment, a minor evil compared 
 mth the permeating dust in the homes of the thousands 
 who Uved under the smoke-shadow of that giant chimney. 
 
 My husband joined in the fight which Mr. Charles Brad- 
 laugh and Mrs. Besant made for the right of free publica- 
 tion in 1877, for though he deplored their views on birth- 
 control — holding aU methods wrong except self-control — 
 and foresaw the significance to the nation if their teaching 
 was obeyed, he yet felt the dangers of a gagged press to be 
 so grave that he advocated freedom. But then in aU 
 matters he trusted in God^ — good — more than he feared 
 the Devil — evil — and so was fearless of spreading opinion. 
 
 1890. — It is the old tale — as soon as man learns to speak, he 
 learns also to he ; but then it is good to learn to speak. 
 
 Very early in our Whitechapel life Mr. Bamett began his 
 fight against the Sunday Fair in Petticoat Lane : 
 
196 PETTICOAT LANE 
 
 1882. — On Sunday mornings, Middlesex Street is the resort of 
 some thousands of men from all parts of London. They gather 
 for pleasures which are generally thought to be the curse of a 
 race-course — card-sharpers, thimble-riggers, and swindlers of all 
 sorts pursue their callings unchecked. . . What was once a 
 market of old clothes established by the Jews on their first day 
 of the week is now a noisy fair to which idlers and gamblers are 
 drawn from all parts of London . . . 
 
 A few years later he made a serious demand that the 
 evil should be faced. 
 
 1889. — The Sunday fair in Petticoat Lane increases in size, 
 and the adjoining streets are now filled with loafers from all 
 parts of London, dra-vsii together by the attractions of cheap- 
 jacks, cordials, and the excitement of a crowd. The local public 
 opinion, which ought to condemn such things, has become de- 
 moralised, . . . and has allowed the habit of Sunday trading 
 to increase. . . Shops of all sort are opened and contempt for 
 law is encouraged. If it be that some buying must take place 
 on Sundajr, better would it be to make such buying legal within 
 certain hours, and after these hours strictly to enforce the 
 closing of the shops. The policy of " drift " which of late years 
 has become fashionable is disastrous when drift takes people 
 from their firm anchorage in principle and bears them on to a 
 raging storm of conflicting interests. Sunday observance is a 
 duty or it is not a duty. If it is a duty, it must be protected by 
 the appreciation of a principle recognised as obligatory by the 
 rich who use the day for pleasure, and by the poor who use 
 the day for gain. 
 
 How useless were all Mr. Barnett's efforts can be seen 
 by anyone who wiU take the train to Aldgate station any 
 Sunday at noon. Perhaps he would still bid us hope for 
 reform, for to quote him again : 
 
 1890. — "When the tale of bricks is doubled, then Moses comes," 
 and when the streets are quite impassable and the corruption 
 of character is evident in active vice, then, perhaps, some 
 strong arm will drive out the cheap-jacks, the gamblers, and 
 the sellers of stolen property. 
 
 Anyone who went to what was called " the Red Church " 
 in the Bethnal Green Road could be married free. Against 
 this practice Mr. Barnctt protested, for the couples had to 
 say they lived in the parish, " thus beginning their new life 
 by a he," and the unseemly scenes amid the crowds who 
 gathered were common gossip. Regarding the parishioners 
 of St. Jude's, Mr. Polyblank wrote : 
 
SLAUGHTER-HOUSES 107 
 
 Many couples in the parish were then living in sin because they 
 said they could not aitord the cost of marriage in the Church. " I can 
 make no charge for God's blcssuig," Mr. Jiarnott said, so the people who 
 were legally entitled to do so came, and ho trusted them to pay what they 
 could alt ord. 
 
 Mr. Barnett felt strongly that the services connected 
 with birth, marriage, and death should be conducted not 
 only with reverence to God, but with reverence to humanity 
 however fallen, though it was often diflficult to quiet the 
 ribald excitement engendered by the occasion. 
 
 At these times the hearts of those present are specially open 
 to emotion, and on the rare occasion of their coming to C'hiu-ch 
 it must he disappointing to them to find themselves treated with 
 business-like dispatch. . . It is altogether good that the 
 Church building in the parish should be associated with the 
 thoughts roused at the solemn crises in hfe, and there are many 
 hundreds to whom St. Jude's will now suggest memories which 
 may have hopes. The cemetery chapel, with its cold formal 
 service, has damped many a feeling kindled by the Angel of 
 Death when he comes to teach the poor the poetry of life. 
 
 Against the retention of the slaughter-houses in Aldgate 
 Mr. Barnett persistently fought, and indeed it was a homble 
 sight to see the herds of cattle driven through the White- 
 chapel streets, followed by troops of cruel boys who goaded 
 the frightened beasts with pin-pointed sticks and hideous 
 cries. Sometimes the poor creatures would entangle their 
 great horns in the spokes of moving wheels, and the cries 
 of inarticulate pain from dumb fellow-creatures are not 
 easily forgotten. Sometimes in their fear they would rush 
 on to the pavement, scattering the pedestrians whether they 
 were hale and young, or pregnant women and frail folk. 
 Around the slaughter-houses, where the sheep were dragged 
 in backwards by their legs, the buUoeks hounded in by 
 dogs and blows, the children would stand eager for fresh 
 sights of blood, excited by the horror and danger of the 
 scenes. In vain Mr. Barnett protested to the authorities 
 and attacked the abuse in the Press, urging pubhe abattoirs. 
 The landlords, the trade, and the conservatism of the 
 people were too strong to get anything done. 
 
 Mr. Polyblank wrote : 
 
 Mr. Barnett received the most scurrilous and cruel letters that could 
 possibly be written, when he questioned and attacked the sanitary condi- 
 tions of the slaughter-houses in Butcher's Row, Aldgate. . . Indcoil in 
 many of his eSorts to get things better, every hand was against him. 
 
198 UNLOVING THEOLOGY 
 
 Among the papers kept is a correspondence with the 
 Rector of Spitahields, whom in my fearless youth I attacked 
 because, after being pressed, I had taken our Sunday-school 
 children to a united service in his Church. I wrote to him : 
 
 Believing in the Almighty as a source of love, ... I heaid, and deeply 
 regret that our children heard, God spoken of as a harsh tyrant, the children 
 urged " to know Jesus " for fear that God should soon " summon them " 
 and " turn them into everlasting fire where there is weeping and gnashing 
 of teeth." Apart from the question of the truth ; apart from the wrong of 
 teaching children to fear punishment and not sin ; apart from the lowness 
 of the motive which places pain as the only deterrent, I appeal to you 
 whether you think it courteous or right to invite the school children of the 
 clergy of all opinions, and then to provide them with a teacher of strong 
 party views. 
 
 The Rector's reply was very angry and written " in haste," 
 and so best forgotten, except two sentences ; 
 
 The preacher was invited . . . because of his acknowledged ability to 
 preach to children. . . What was said in our Church last Sunday would 
 be uttered in substance by nine out of ten of the clergy of the various 
 schools of thought in the Church. 
 
 And yet the clergy wondered that people did not worship 
 their God. 
 
 I can still see that terrible parson, tall, gaunt, clothed 
 wholly in black, Ufting up his arms till his gown looked 
 like huge wings, and descending the first few steps of the 
 lofty pulpit, saying " Do\vn, doown, doowwnnn," as a suit- 
 able illustration of the fate of unconverted children. 
 
 As President of the Whitechapel and District Liberal 
 Association, Mr. Barnett fought for years difficult battles 
 connected with the organisation of what was knoAvn as the 
 Liberal Three Hundred. The chief offenders are dead and 
 it is better not to give pain to those they have left behind, 
 but the papers and accounts indicate how conscientiously 
 my husband fought, writing down for his ovsm guidance the 
 points in favour of the defaulters, and the excuses that 
 could be made for their wrong- doing. 
 
 I did not sympathise with Mr. Barnett's holding so pro- 
 minent a position in a pohtical caucus, for parsons are 
 usually not helped to lead their parisliioners towards spiritual 
 fife by vexing their political opponents ; but the sitting 
 member, Mr. James Bryce,^ and my husband were knit 
 together by deep friendship, and he felt that through pohtical 
 
 1 Now Viscount Bryce. 
 
CORPORAL PUNISHMENT 199 
 
 associations he came into contact with a body of men who 
 cared for progress, but whom he touched through no other 
 channel. Perhaps too I was somewhat influenced by the 
 ■wish to save the Vicar work. In one account twenty- six 
 meetings and two entertainments are shown as having 
 taken place in a httle over a year, and as the administra- 
 tion was aU done from St. Jude's School-house, it meant 
 constant reference to and responsibihty for him. 
 
 Neither in those days was Mr. Barnett adverse to using 
 corporal punishment or physical force. At Egloshayle, 
 where he had taken hohday duty, the house-boy repeatedly 
 played truant, returning with ingenious hes. All higher 
 arguments having failed, my husband determined to thrash 
 him, which he personally did tiU the walking-stick broke ! 
 On another occasion his father's coachman — later our pen- 
 sioner — who had come to fetch us at the station after a 
 long day's excursion, soon showed that he was drunk. In a 
 moment my husband, fearful that his mother would be 
 alarmed, had leapt over the back of the carriage, seized 
 William, and deposited him in the road, where he left him. 
 
 With the first secretary of the central office of the C.O.S. 
 Mr. Barnett also contended, beheving that his spirit of 
 suspicion of the poor was injurious to the Society. He was 
 a vigorous forcible person from whom my sensitive husband 
 instinctively shrank, but after he, in conjunction with Miss 
 Octavia Hill and other members of the Society, had decided 
 that the services of their secretary had better be dispensed 
 with, Mr. Barnett thought it right to tell him that the httle 
 group meant, if they could, to dislodge him. He dreaded 
 the difficult interview, and I went with him to encourage 
 him, and walked up and down Buckingham Street — where 
 the office then was — until he came out. 
 
 " WeU," I said, " what did he say ? " 
 
 " I had hoped he would see," replied my husband, " that 
 for the good of the Society he had better retire, but he does 
 not, and so now we shall have to fight him." 
 
 It v/as that unvanquishable behef that men would be 
 always ready to subordinate their private welfare to the 
 public good that made many of those he called leave all 
 and follow him into fresh fields of service. 
 
 And alongside of these incidental fights was waged the 
 
200 THE BEST FOR THE LOWEST 
 
 continual war against the housing conditions, the struggle to 
 prevent relief under the Poor Law demoraUsing the people, 
 and the contest with the authorities for wider education. 
 Fighter as he was, Mr. Barnett always fought with good 
 temper, absence of personal feeling, and a steadfast faith 
 in the conquest of what was right. He used to grieve to 
 stick his knife into his opponent, but he stuck it in all the 
 same, and struck hard. With me it was different. For 
 this he rebuked me : 
 
 " You are ready to fight the wrongs and you hke preparing 
 for the battle, but you cry when the enemy bleeds, and 
 that weakens me." 
 
 Still, he fought on, demanding ever the best for the 
 lowest. Mrs. VViUiam Blyt-h, one of our earliest fellow- 
 workers, writing her remmiscences, said : 
 
 To those who-se idea of the work of a parish was at all conventional, that 
 at St. Jude's was a revelation. " Nothing short of the best " was the 
 motto of whatever was attempted. . . No one who was associated, even 
 for a short time, and who entered into the spirit of its Vicar and his wife, 
 could ever return to conventional ideas of Church life and Church work, 
 or could fail to realise that all good social work is religious, and should be 
 undertaken as part of God's service. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 " The sense that something must be done against poverty, ignorance, and sin 
 is a divine heritage in humanity. If the stronger members of society left the 
 weaker alone . . . the strong would lose more than the weak.'" 
 
 As soon as he was qualified as a ratepayer, Mx. Barnett 
 became a Guardian of tlie Whitechapel Union, having been 
 nominated by the Local Government Board. He held the 
 position for twenty-nine years, and for part of that time 
 was Chairman. In 1869 Mr. Goschen, who was then Presi- 
 dent of the Poor Law Board, circulated a memorandum 
 advocating the restriction of out-door rehef which was in 
 full force, no less than 3,931 Whitechapel persons being in 
 receipt of out- rehef on January 1st, 1870. Under the 
 dominating influence of Mr. T. Brushfield, the Board had 
 determined to reduce the out-rehef, and on the correspond- 
 ing date three years later — when my husband joined — the 
 figures had fallen to 1,165, a reduction of nearly 70 per cent., 
 and the decrease continued. On January 1st, 1876, only 420 
 apphcants were so reheved, and on the same day in 1877 
 the figure was but 122. 
 
 The pursuit of tliis policy involved great suffering ; and 
 though the Union was so pauperised that strong decisive 
 action had to be taken, yet most of those concerned hved 
 to wish it had been done with more courtesy of manner, 
 consideration of individual circumstances, and the recognition 
 of the need of reform of the social conditions which had 
 degraded the people. 
 
 The Board-room was large and furnished with the horse- 
 shoe table usually occupying such offices. At the top sat 
 the Chairman, the apphcants approaching him by walking 
 up the room between the two arms of the horseshoe table. 
 
 " The House " was the decision usuaUy snapped out by 
 the Chairman, often before the appUcant had stated his 
 case, or the Guardians had had any opportunity of giving 
 their opinions. 
 
 1—15 201 
 
202 ABOLITION OF OUT-REIIEF 
 
 " The House 1 " would whine some poor wdowed 
 creature who preferred to starve herself and to see her 
 children starve than be separated from them, " can't your 
 honour ? " 
 
 "I said 'the House,'" would repeat the Chairman in no 
 gentle tone, and sign to the reheving officer that he was 
 ready for the next case. 
 
 " The House, is it ? " said one burly buUy : " I'll give yer 
 the House," and before anyone saw his intention he had 
 whipped out a bottle from beneath his rags and raised it 
 to hurl a blow which, had it fallen, must have kiUed Mr. 
 Brushfield. The upUfted arm was caught in time and the 
 Guardians were properly shocked at the occurrence, but I 
 felt that half-fed paupers were not usually brave men, and 
 that the poor creature must have sorely suffered before 
 he had resorted to action so desperate. 
 
 Mr. Barnett warmly supported the pohcy of abohshing 
 oui^rehef , and many a discussion did we hold on it ; for I 
 thought then, and I think now, that with their mother, even 
 in a poor home, children are best reared ; and the decision, 
 given almost without exception to a widow, that the Guar- 
 dians would take most of her children into the pauper 
 schools and leave her one or two to support, seemed to me 
 a cruel pohcy. It gave her an impossible task, which could 
 only result in half-starving the children, double-working the 
 mother ; and by keeping her incessantly absent at labour, 
 it rendered the word " home" a mockery. I used to argue 
 that women were paid to tend the children of the rich, 
 therefore why not pay women to tend the children of the 
 poor, and what women could be so suitable as their mothers ? ^ 
 Pharaoh's daughter had found that out.. But my husband 
 thought that the pauper spirit which poisoned the masses 
 of the indigent was a national evil which would become 
 M'orse, and that, Uke wise physicians, we must bear to 
 inflict suffering if it were necessary to effect a cure. He also 
 felt very strongly the impertinence of judging who was 
 " deserving " of rehef. 
 
 Who is to be the judge of character ? Who is to say that A. 
 shall have out-relief and B. go into the Infirmary, that C. is 
 to be treated as if he were an honoured guest and D. as if he 
 were a cruninal ? It may be that B. has fought temptations, 
 
 1 This principle is now being advocated by Judge Neil as " Mother's 
 Pensions," and is supported by the State Children's Association and also 
 at the Trades Union Conference, January 1918. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF JUDGING CHARACTER 203 
 
 and had trials which have never come near to A., and that D, 
 has done kindnesses and helped others as C. never dreamed 
 of doing. There is no way in which strangers can judge charac- 
 ter ; the good and the evil must be let grow together ; and he 
 who attempts to separate them will destroy the good with the evil. 
 Beyond this there is something humiliating, a loss of self- 
 respect, which is entailed in submitting to such judgment. The 
 secrets and sorrows of a man's life are his own ; his efforts to 
 save, his charities to children or to friends, his afflictions, the 
 sins of his youth, are not for public use, and he who is called 
 on to expose them suffers irreparably in character. There is a 
 necessary modesty for the character as there is for the person.^ 
 
 Of the bad effect of out-reKef on the characters of the 
 applicants Mr. Barnett had no doubt, holding that — 
 
 The weekly dole, or " out-relief," administered by a relieving 
 officer bound to suspect every assertion, brings out the gi'eed 
 of the. applicant, destroys his self-respect, checks his energies, 
 and has had a distinct effect in keeping down wages. The 
 420,057 who receive out-relief are not in the real sense relieved. 
 They have to go hat in hand to the relieving officer. They 
 have to submit to his questions, and at last receive what must 
 be grudgingly given. . . They may not show signs of the wound 
 their natm-e bears . . . but human nature deeply feels sever- 
 ance from its kind.^ 
 
 In 1878 he reported that the abolition had been persisted 
 in " with manifest advantage to the ratepayers and to the 
 poor," and twenty years after out- relief had been abohshed 
 in Whitechapel, and while we w^ere still living there and 
 able to see results, Canon Barnett wrote in The Nineteeiith 
 Century : 
 
 1891. — Under the new system the first result has been that 
 the poor receive more nearly enough. I am not prepared to 
 say that they receive enough — I have a standard of life which 
 cannot be reached by the income which just keeps body and 
 soul together — but 1 do say that in 1890 the poor have got 
 more nearly enough than in 1870, and they have got it in a 
 way which was impossible by an out-relief system. They now 
 receive their gifts after a patient consideration of their needs 
 and with a friendliness for their human character which no 
 busy relieving officer could afford. . . 
 
 The second result has been a distinct growth in habits of self- 
 rehance. Men and women who, in the old time of parish doles, 
 were tempted to hang about ui the hope of something, have set 
 to work. . . The action of the Guardians, even where it is 
 
 1 Practicable Socialism, Becond series, published by Messrs. Longmans, 
 Green & Co. 
 
204 ASSISTANCE THROUGH FRIENDSHIP 
 
 not approved, is understood, and regular action is always the 
 best to work with. One temptation to beg has been removed, 
 and with fewer disappointed applicants there is less ill-will. 
 Whitechapel people — I do not speak of the large crowd of casuals 
 and loafers attracted to the neighbourhood by shelters, com- 
 mon lodgings, and free meals — are more independent, better off, 
 and happier than in old times. . . It is only those who have 
 known the district many years who can judge the improvement. 
 
 The " new system " referred to was the method adopted 
 for those to whom the Guardians had refused out-relief. 
 First, they were sent to the Charity Organisation Society, 
 where, after investigation under the kindly eye of Mr. 
 Leonard, who was acting as the Secretary of the Whitechapel 
 C.O.S., adequate help in various ways was organised for 
 their benefit. Very thoroughly was each case investigated, 
 not to find deserts or deUnquencies, but to ascertain the 
 characters, tastes, and potentialities of " the neighbour who 
 had fallen by the way." Neither were the applicants for- 
 gotten after they had received the initial help, for the large 
 body of workers, who were attracted by the social experiment, 
 enabled regular visits to be paid to all. Mr. Barnett described 
 the effect of such friendship on one family : 
 
 James and Mary M are old people. They are both delicate, 
 
 and owing to failing eyesight the man has had to give up his 
 employment and keep a street stall during the summer. In the 
 winter an allowance was granted sufficient for their daily needs, 
 and in the spring money to stock the stall was supplied. The 
 landlord, who lived in a distant part of London, was visited, 
 and was induced to defer immediate pressure for back rent. 
 When the summer came and the stall was bruiging m a fair 
 return they were not forgotten. The friend who every week 
 had brought them their allowance continued her visits. Her 
 words and acts of kindness had secured their confidence, and 
 she was trusted ^\'ith the care of the profits which remained 
 after all outgoings and all debts had been paid. At the end 
 of the summer there were eight pounds in hand. . . 
 
 Here is an example of relief, adequate, given with time, 
 thought, and friendliness, which no busy relieving officer could 
 command. Out-relief, ec[ual perhaps in amoimt but drawn from 
 rates, grudgingly given, would have provoked a sullen and rm- 
 helpful disposition. Charity drawn from contributions willingly 
 given, not only put money into the pockets of the old people, 
 but courage into their hearts. 
 
 Perhaps it was the work which Mr. Barnett undertook 
 in relation to the abolition of out-relief which gave him his 
 
INTIMATE KNOWLEDGE OP THE POOR 205 
 
 extraordinary knowledge of the lives of the poor. Every 
 Board day when rehef cases came on the agenda, he went 
 and stood behind the Chairman, read the application forms, 
 and observed with his keen brown eyes the poor creatures, 
 who timidly or sullenly awaited sentences affecting their 
 whole hves from the unfriendly voices of strangers. As 
 ]Mr. Brushfield got to trust him, the Vicar would whisper 
 suggestions of further inquiry, or put searching questions 
 to the reheving officer, or advise the apphcant what to do. 
 In every instance he took down the names and addresses, 
 and then he or I or one of our workers would go to the 
 poor home or shelter, regardless of parochial boundaries, 
 not to interfere with the work of neighbouring parsons, 
 but as a Guardian visiting an apphcant. 
 
 Very close in friendship became some of those famihes 
 whose acquaintance we made when crushed into hope- 
 lessness by the refusal of the parish pittance — a refusal \^'hich 
 if they had formerly been ratepayers they felt mth the 
 bitterness of a denied right. Neither did the friendships 
 wane when the period of helplessness was over. It is Ijut 
 a few months ago that I was presented with a garment, 
 every stitch of which was sewn by the trembling old fingers 
 of one who is now the nation's pensioner, but then, thirty- 
 eight years ago, was a young widow with five chikken. 
 
 " The House for aU, or the Schools for three and you can 
 support two," she was told. 
 
 " I cannot part with them. IMinnie is so fond of home, 
 and Phihp is so dehcate — I cannot," she said, and I 
 agreed with her. So one room was made to suffice, and into 
 that the new mangle was crowded. The children were half- 
 fed, but clean, happy, and affectionate. Once when the 
 mother fell iU, they were sent into the pauper schools, only 
 to be fetched out after the first visiting day, one with 
 ringworm, one with ophthalmia, all five cowed by the 
 di-eary duUing disciphne necessary when hundi-eds of children 
 are gathered together. Dear brave httle widow ! How 
 she slaved, and starved, and loved, and made those of us 
 who hved easily, feel ashamed. It would take too long to 
 teU how the splendid sturdiness of her character gradually 
 won for her more responsible work and consec[uently better 
 pay, but all the children survived, and though they are 
 still handicapped in hfe's race by being under-sized, their 
 hearts are fuU of love and reverence for their mother, whose 
 latter days they are tending with comforts and consideration. 
 
206 AFTER TWENTY YEARS' EXPERIENCE 
 
 Of another family whose circumstances made adequate 
 assistance very difficult, my husband, eighteen years after 
 he had first met the mother in the Board-room, wrote : 
 
 1894. — Mi's. A was a Mddow with four girls. She had no 
 
 trade, and so tried to get a living by selling songs in the streets 
 — another name for begging. She applied for out-relief in 1876. 
 It was refused, but according to the Guardians' custom she was 
 referred to the care of some charitable people. She now met 
 a friend instead of an official, one who was glad to consider all 
 the circumstances and ready to share heart as well as purse. 
 She was helped to a decent room and was found regular work 
 as a scrubber, and subsequently as an office-keeper. Her chil- 
 dren were sent to school, and ultimately to places of service. 
 Every week, year after year, she was kept in touch with her 
 hopes, as the same friend visited her, encouraged her, helped 
 her over obstacles, and gave her the pleasure of change. The 
 children have all done well, and the woman herseh is now — 1894 
 — living as an honoured and respected guest in the comfortable 
 home of her eldest daughter. If she had received out-relief, 
 she would have met at the pay - table persons with whom 
 association must have been degradation, she would have had 
 to uncover her circumstances to strangers' gaze, she would 
 have been conscious that the relieving officer was regarding 
 her with suspicion, she would probably have resented the in- 
 justice of her treatment when compared with that of less 
 worthy neighbours. Her children, growing up in the atmo- 
 sphere of dependence and resentment, might not have developed 
 the qualities of industry and self-reliance which have now raised 
 them to good positions ; they would have missed the glow of 
 friendly care which has warmed their hearts into corresponding 
 friendliness and goodwill. 
 
 This is no imaginary case. AH through these forty years 
 
 we have kept in friendly touch with Mrs. A , her children 
 
 and grandchildren, who now — 1916 — no longer living in 
 Whitechapel, but occupying the position of the seK-depen- 
 dent and seK-respecting industrial classes, maintain the 
 friendship by the usual channels of social communication, 
 and never fail to visit us when in town. 
 
 My husband held that the refusal of out-rehef was the 
 root from which grew redeeming effort and goodwill, and 
 when some fifteen years ago there was a widespread demand 
 to return to the system of loosely given inadequate out- 
 rehef, he wrote strongly : 
 
 The system adopted by the Whitechapel Guardians had good 
 results, measured by an observer whose standard is " the best 
 
RESULTS OF ABOLITION OF OUT-RELIEF 207 
 
 for the poor, who as men and women are kin to the highest." 
 The Board oiiered day by day an object-lesson in justice and 
 kindness, and a Board's effect on conceptions of social duty is 
 often more important than its direct action. Its education of 
 opinion reaches further than its deeds. A new generation has 
 now become the critic of a system which tliirty years ago was 
 new. This generation does not know what an improvement 
 the present is on the past, and has not taken pains to trace 
 the causes of the improvement. It sees the poverty of the 
 present ; out-relief is the simplest way of meeting poverty, 
 and so it incUnes to reintroduce out-reliof. 
 
 I would, however, enter two cautions out of my own experi- 
 ence. 
 
 The first is that there is no royal road by which the poor 
 can be made rich. The improvement must come by growth 
 from within, and not by accretions from without. The efiective 
 help is that which strengthens character. 
 
 My second caution is against a too hasty contempt of past 
 practices. The practice of out-relief and the practice of no 
 out-relief have been tried. It is wiser to study each, to find 
 out what has really happened under each administration, than 
 it is to argue from theory, or without thought to swing from one 
 system to another. The danger of many of our critics, who are 
 ahve to the suSermgs of poverty, is hurry. They feel what 
 their neighbours endure ; they have not been trained to think ; 
 they have never learnt history ; they have control of the rates ; 
 and the simplest course is to give out-relief. Human nature 
 inchnes to resent trouble, especially the trouble of study ; but 
 they who would act helpfully in this matter must restrain their 
 emotions and conquer their indolence, while they take the 
 trouble to consider experience. Those who criticise the present 
 must study the past. 
 
 It may be that society ought to be reorganised — that is 
 matter for another argument ; but while society is on its pre- 
 sent basis there is abundant proof that the poor are better off 
 when Guardians refuse out-relief, and bring to their service 
 the goodwill of charity. 
 
 If the opposite policy be adopted and out-relief be again 
 given, the out-relief must be adequate — not the insufficient 
 dole of old days, but enough to relieve the apphcant both from 
 starvation and the necessity of further begging. It must also 
 be very widely given. If it be refused, except on grounds ap- 
 proved by the common opinion, the refusal will excite general 
 discontent. But if it be widely given, habits of self-reliance will 
 be weakened, the thoughts of many will be unsettled, wages 
 will be reduced, and the rates will be raised. 
 
 Imagine for a moment how a system of out-rehef must work 
 out in practice. A. applies and makes out a case which justifies 
 relief, and receives an adequate amount. B. apphes, and hig 
 
208 ACTION MISUNDERSTOOD 
 
 case, although not so good as that of A., is still near enough to 
 make refusal impossible. C. apphes, who again is very like B., 
 and so on through the whole alphabet, till Z. can justify his 
 claim although he is so far from A. If the relieving officer at 
 any point attempts to draw a line, there is complaining and 
 unrest which no argument can meet, so like are the cases refused 
 to the cases accepted. If, on the other hand, the relieving 
 officer gives to every applicant, the burden on the rates becomes 
 intolerable ; the fountains of charity are dried up ; the thought 
 and the friendship and the family love which have so much 
 softened and straightened human relations are weakened ; the 
 goodwill which has raised the demand for better houses, better 
 education, and better wages is paralysed ; the self-reliance 
 which has enabled workmen to form unions and take independent 
 action is relaxed, and depths of need are opened which no relief 
 can fill. Out-relief is a sort of monster which destroys its own 
 parent, the local rates from which it is drawn. 
 
 The foundations on which Mr. Barnett based his actions 
 relating to out-relief had to be firmly established to enable 
 him to bear the unpopularity and misunderstanding which 
 were the results. Some persons accusd him of sacrificing 
 the people to his fads, others voted him a dreamer, while 
 the poor who suffered by the change of pohcy bore him 
 unstinted ill-will. All this he found very hard to bear, and 
 yet in those early days he did not explain his motives and 
 aims, either on the platform or by the Press. 
 
 " Have you written all that ? " asked Dr. Ernest Hart 
 after a conversation on Poor Law reform, and on receiving 
 " No " as a reply, burst out with the rapid utterance of 
 indignation at the folly of missing opportunities of sympathy 
 and helpfulness by neglect of the Press. Even then, except 
 for Parish Reports and for sermons, my husband did not 
 use his pen, and it was left to me to lead the way in 
 magazine literature by an article " Young Women in the 
 Workhouse" in Macmillan in August 1879.^ 
 
 It is fitting that that work should be mentioned here, for, 
 though it was essentially woman's woi-k, it grew out of Mr. 
 Barnett's position as Guardian. During his visits to " the 
 House" and Infirmary, he saw young women in undesirable 
 propinquity to vicious characters, some of whom were 
 suffering from the consequences of their shameless lives. 
 The existence of these girls was brutalising hj dreariness 
 and made barren of effort by hopelessness. Helped hj the 
 matron, Mrs. Mayor, who was always delighted to assist 
 
 1 Practicable Socialism, published by Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co. 
 
YOUNG WOMEN IN THE WORKHOUSE 209 
 
 the inmates, I began to visit them, first to gain their confid- 
 ence and then to restart them in the difficult world, at least 
 made easier to them by the possession of a friend who cared 
 about what they did. At that time the Lock wards were 
 underground, and no classification other than that demanded 
 on medical grounds was attempted. Into these I plunged 
 with the ignorance and enthusiasm of twenty-four years, 
 dominated by the faith that no girls hked being wicked, that 
 they had only adopted evil ways inadvertently or under 
 compulsion, and that they would gladly suffer hardship and 
 enjoj? disciphne so as to become good. Slowly I learnt the 
 truth. I had arrived at woman's estate in a condition of 
 almost incredible innocence, and sins, now known, alas ! to 
 all plaj^goers and novel-readers of any age, were to me 
 unimagined. To learn the facts of sex lawlessness through 
 the channel of the rude words and impure minds of the 
 women in the underground Look wards of the Whitechapel 
 Infirmary made me ill, but I was absorbingly interested in 
 the individual girls and never missed my weekly visit. 
 
 For the first year or two the work was done without 
 official recognition, but later Mr. Vallance, the Clerk to the 
 Board, thought it desirable that the Guardians should know 
 of it, and so records were rendered. The first one, March 
 1877,^ states that in the preceding twelve months eighty- 
 one women and girls had been seen, and sixty placed out, of 
 whom twelve were supporting their childi'en who were 
 formerly on the rates. As I read the report of work long 
 since forgotten I recall many of the Sarahs and the 
 Margarets and the Kates, there denoted only by initials, 
 and some of the events that those short official sentences 
 cover. 
 
 Drink has been this young woman's failing. She solemnly took the 
 pledge and has kept it. 
 
 And behind the words I can see Agnes G , aged twenty- 
 six, in the rough workhouse uniform, kneehng in the httle 
 dining-room at the Vicarage, and I can hear my husband's 
 beautiful voice leading us in prayer. I remember her 
 scribbled signature all blurred with her tears, and can feel 
 her kiss of gratitude when, the httle ceremony ended, ■ 
 I took her out to the hall, where sat the poor old pauper 
 man sent to convoy her back to the workhouse. 
 
 " Here ye be, my lassie," he said, anxious to comfort her, 
 
 1 Later it was agreed that the Reports should not be printed. 
 
210 UNWANTED BABIES 
 
 " it'll be all right now," and I recall my sense of indignation 
 that such a dear old father-man, so ready with his sympathy, 
 should be condemned to be cast away, out of sight and often 
 out of mind, on the sad rubbish-heap of humanity. 
 
 The babies were difficult joys, and often died in spite of all 
 the care lavished on them by their foster-mothers, but the 
 regular visiting which they necessitated gave us the privilege 
 of knowing many noble women and their patient husbands, 
 whose devotion to the care of nameless children was an 
 object-lesson in Christian hfe, though usually Church-going 
 was not their habit. 
 
 Last night — February 20th, 1916 — I received a letter from 
 a man in America who, after apologising for not -waiting for 
 twenty years, sent word of his prosperity and the assurance 
 of his grateful memory of all that had been done for him. 
 He was one of those weakly unwanted babies, loved into 
 hfe and self-respect by his foster-parents. And how that 
 woman talked ! We used to fly from her, or take it in 
 turns to bear the torrent of her words ; but hstening to her 
 was the only renumeration she exacted; for, the baby's 
 mother having returned to her evil ways, the nurse continued 
 to keep him without payment, jealously guarding him 
 against his mother, " who might harm him when in dxmk." 
 
 Many people are the recipients of many sorts of love, but 
 nothing can exceed the power and depth of the love which 
 can be lavished by an unloved " incorrigible pauper." 
 Ellen Mather was brought to me with that character, and 
 her haK-closed eyes, sullen expression, set mouth, and general 
 " don't-care " attitude brought despair into my heart. 
 Nothing I said made any difference to her, she would not 
 answer, probably thinking that as she had been to prison 
 for workhouse insubordination, the future could hold no 
 good for her. 
 
 " It is my birthday on Tuesday," I said. No reply. 
 
 " Don't you want to give me a present ? " Long silence 
 and then — 
 
 " I ain't got nothing to give nobody," was grunted out. 
 
 " You have something you can give me which I want 
 very much," I said. Silence. 
 
 " Won't you give it me ? " Silence. Then curiosity 
 awoke, and she sulkily asked, 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " You can give me your promise that if I take you out of 
 here, you ■will never enter the workhouse again.' Silence, 
 
AN "INCORRIGIBLE PAUPER" 211 
 
 this time unbroken until I had to go, but on Tuesday the 
 eagerly looked-for letter was there, and the given promise 
 was faithfuUy kept. 
 
 I could write a book on Ellen, her experiences, her 
 temper, her clumsiness, her sense of humour, her intelUgence, 
 her incompetence, her scorn of most of her mistresses, ancl 
 her appreciation of some, her shrewdness and stupidity, and 
 through it all her great and permeating love. Every 
 birthday I received a gift and a letter, and when once, 
 presents having become too much the fashion, I decreed in 
 an Eastern potentate style that I should refuse to receive 
 them, I got ten shillings from EUen to help another girl. 
 
 " I thought I'd make you take mine whosesoever you 
 refused," she said, chorthng at having got the best of it. 
 
 She was very naughty and very dear, learning hfe's lessons 
 but slowly. When she was about thirty- five she went as 
 under-servant to Mi-. F. C. Mills, one of the pre-Toynbee Hall 
 settlers, who was then hving in Arbour Square, good Mrs. 
 Batchelor being his housekeeper. While there, Ellen's con- 
 sumptive tendency, which had been kept in abeyance by 
 the aid of the Ventnor Hospital and much care, became 
 active, and death was not far off. The outlook was difficult, 
 for the promise about the workhouse had to be kept, ancl 
 yet no hospital would take her. So the story was told to 
 Mr. Mills, who at once accepted the burden and had the 
 "incorrigible pauper" nursed in his house with every 
 comfort until the end came. 
 
 " What is that ? " I asked her one day, pointing to a 
 beautiful Brett seascape standing on an easel at the bottom 
 of the bed. 
 
 " Mr. Mills brought it," she said. " He thought it would 
 be company for me." 
 
 "Nursed with every comfort" I have written, but such 
 consideration was holier than any comfort ! 
 
 If the girls left the infirmary and flung themselves back 
 into their ungodly hves, I went after them, to woo them to 
 take the hard self-restraining path which leads to righteous- 
 ness. Sometimes they would refuse, sometimes respond, and 
 occasionally tell me of some other girl perhaps younger or 
 less hardened " who had better go along with you, ma'am." 
 To each was given something difficult to do in evidence of 
 the reahty of the desire to reform, for to make the way easy 
 and attractive is not to call forth the characteristics on 
 which alone reformation can be built. 
 
212 THE WOMAN WHO WAS A SINNER 
 
 " You must go into the infirmary first, then I will help 
 you," was the decision given to one girl who, dirty, hatless, 
 and almost shoeless, was hving in one of the furnished rooms 
 or " dossing with her pals." " Come this evening, when 
 it shall be all arranged." 
 
 The evening went by, and bedtime came, but no Sehna. 
 
 "She won't come now," said my husband; "you must 
 give her up and go to rest." 
 
 " I shall sit up for her ; she must not come and find the 
 fights out," was my reply. 
 
 He was vexed with me, for I was weak, too weak to sit 
 hour after hour in the fittle draughty passage-hall waiting, 
 hoping, fearing — fearing that the condition had been too 
 stiff — fearing I had erred in not taking her myseK — 
 fearing that opportunity of sin had come, and that her 
 repentance was too weak to resist it. The people surged up 
 and down the street shouting drunken songs, quarreUing, 
 laughing, screaming, making hideous human noises provoca- 
 tive to hopelessness. At last the knocker gave the single 
 rap, which is what the poor give, and Sehna was won, 
 stronger for ever by her conquest and the knowledge that 
 someone cared whom she must not disappoint. 
 
 For nine years I did this work, at first alone, then Lady 
 Monteagle, Mi's. John Rodger, and Mrs. Frederick Greene 
 joined me ; we formed the inevitable Committee, and the 
 plan was extended to the St. George's-in-the-East and other 
 Unions. It was painful work, for, to quote from the article 
 already referred to : 
 
 There are many failures : women whose resolution deserts them before 
 the old temptations, whose promises are as lightly broken as they are 
 earnestly made ; girls whose ill companions olfer them bright if lawless 
 lives, and who leave the new hard ways for the weU-kno^vn aimless, care- 
 less life. » 
 
 But in spite of many failures, the work is hopefully continued in the 
 belief, founded on experience, that the idle can be induced to work and learn 
 through daily labour the gospel which work teaches ; that the eoarse- 
 minded can yet see the beauty of holiness if it is shown greatly and plainly ; 
 that the ignorant can j'et be taught, if patience be given ; that the careless 
 may yet be circumspect if cared for. Failures and disappomtments are 
 mevitable when the aim is not to make a temporary improvement, but to 
 raise the ideas and radically change the habits of a class to help whom 
 there has hitherto been so little effort made. 
 
 And through all the labour, the disappointments, and the 
 successes, my husband stood by, ready to help, to condole, 
 or to congratulate. His subtle sympathy, his unerring dis- 
 
COMMERCIALISED VICE 213 
 
 cernment, his unfathomable hope, his extensive experience, 
 his unlimited resourcefulness were all brought into use for 
 the service of those who were striving to regenerate " the 
 woman who was a sinner." His view of the subject shall 
 he told in his own words in an article he wrote on " Com- 
 merciahsed Vice." 
 
 1912. — What, then, may it be asked, is the action of the 
 Christian towards her ? If, I suppose, you try to put into a 
 sentence the change brought by Christ into human relations, 
 you might saj' that from Him dates a new value in human beings. 
 They who really see Jesus, cannot help but respect Him, and 
 they who see His likeness in the despised, cannot help but 
 respect them. Christ inspired not just kindness, or interest, 
 or toleration, but respect for every human soul as something 
 of incomparable, inestimable value. He Himself was courteous 
 to the outcast and the child. . . 
 
 The attitude, therefore, of the Christian towards the woman 
 who is a sinner should be one of respect. She must be treated 
 not as an inferior with lower needs, not by methods of exclusion 
 as if she were imworthy of our comtesy, nor by excuses as if 
 she were incapable of knowing better ; she must be helped not 
 by the cold machinery of an organisation dealing with a fallen 
 class, nor by the sentiment which makes light of her sin. She 
 must be regarded as a human being in whom is Christ, with a 
 divine capacity for being good, generous, loving, and therefore 
 also with the noble human capacity for repentance. She must 
 receive a respect which will remind her of her inheritance, and 
 a warmth of human feeling which she will recognise as coming 
 not from pity but from hope. 
 
 Repression and sentiment alike have failed. Respect such as 
 that shown by our Lord in Simon's house to the " woman who 
 was a sinner " has yet to be tried. How this sense of respect 
 will afiect the words and acts of individuals must be left to each 
 other's conscience. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 " The Holy Spirit and the world spirit alike breathe in the spirit of the 
 times." 
 
 We were not always at work. Neither did our life consist 
 of creating organisations for the benefit of the poor, nor 
 fighting abuses which hindered their growth. We dehber- 
 ately decided it should not be so, and thus kept times for 
 each other, dined out frequently, paid many visits, and 
 took splendid hohdays. Mr. Barnett wrote to his brother 
 of some of these visits : 
 
 Hampstead, March 1884. — We are spending our Sabbath with 
 these soldiers of the nineteenth century. That is what the Miss 
 Davenport Hills are, obedient servants of the will of the age. 
 They are not poets to see the future nor leaders like Moses 
 who go on Pisgah, but they are doers of the hard dull duty 
 which a hard dull age imposes. It is good to be with them, to 
 feel around one the breath of truth, the breezes of duty. 
 
 Kensington, May 29th, 1886. — Here I am with the Potters 
 by myself. My wife and I had both promised to spend our 
 Sabbath here, but she was thed, so I came alone. I have had 
 as pleasant a time as is possible when there is less than half 
 myself to enjoy it. Last night Miss Chamberlain dined here, a 
 frank, clever girl, devoted to her father and keen for his honour. 
 Evidently she feels strongly against Gladstone and Morley, but 
 the Bill will pass. . . 
 
 March 28th, 1896. — Yesterday we went to stay vith Mr. and 
 Mrs. Watts at their country house near Guildford. We found 
 them established on a hillside amid the fir trees with peeps 
 towards Hindhead. Their house just teems with art and ideas. 
 The ceiling is worked in. plaster, each panel sjrmboUcal of some 
 religion — the walls varied with oak and drapery, pictiues, chairs, 
 everything is suggestive. He and she were, as ever, humble, 
 inspired, and devoted. We talked and were refreshed to return 
 to Whiteohapel to find our pictures in the picture-rooms and 
 
 214 
 
WEEK-END VISITS 215 
 
 our duties waiting. A fine collection — Burne-Jones in great 
 force. I have been trying to describe him for the catalogue, 
 but have not got my hand or heart in. 
 
 September 1th, 1907. — Here we are in a great rich house. . . 
 Our hostess is a sweet person whose conscience is always troubling 
 her about her wealth. She comes to us with cases ten times a 
 day. . . Last night there was a dinner party of neighbours. 
 Oh ! it is fun to note the horror of Sociahsm and their absolute 
 ignorance of everything except horses and sport. Their cry is 
 the commg ruin of the country. I attacked them for want of 
 patriotism. It is really the worst sort of treason which cries 
 out and retreats. 
 
 My husband no longer rode, but I often went with my 
 brother-in-law, and as from Wimpole Street the country to 
 the north was the most accessible, I learnt well its rural 
 beauties. The immediate result was that we rented a 
 cottage in Palmer's Green to rest in, and the ultimate result 
 was the creation of the Hampstead Garden Suburb. Every 
 Friday we set aside for a tete-a-tete workless " Sabbath," 
 taking long walks through Surrey or Kent, or seeing picture- 
 galleries in town. These were days of great gladness to us 
 and rarely sacrificed on duty altars. Dining out was also 
 often a pleasure, but it had to be limited, for locomotion 
 thirty to forty years ago was expensive and tiring, but one 
 had to go to the West End to remind it of the East End. 
 
 1884. — ^We have dined out twice this week but with no par- 
 ticular pleasure. One lady boasted of being an anarchist. 
 How people use anything for excitement ! There is no sin so 
 often committed as that of taking the Sacrament unworthily. 
 Eternities are dressed up for the banquet of an hour. Crime, I 
 expect, is a Sacrament — a kind of Sacrifice Avith Calvary behind 
 — and so crime should not be talked of lightly, lest the Sacra- 
 ment be taken unworthily. 
 
 1886. — On Tuesday evening we dined with the Toynbees ; 
 I talked to Baden Powell about India, and enjoyed a chat 
 with Miss Swan wick, who is one of the rare old ladies who 
 keep youth and age together. Afterwards we went on to the 
 Stebbings' and met, as Du Maurier said, "A lot of mind." We 
 did not meet new people as we knew so many old friends. These 
 parties seem weary waste of time, but they do serve to keep 
 friends in touch. 
 
 1886. — Wednesday I had a heavy day and bore it easily, 
 ending it up with a talk on " Charity," and later a ball at 
 Knowles'. A tent was put up in the garden, and the garden 
 lighted with Chinese lanterns. The sight was pretty, suggestive 
 
216 DINNER PARTIES 
 
 of the theatre rather than of Hfe, helpful to the fancy rather 
 than to the imagination. The contemplation of West London 
 was instructive. 
 
 On Friday we went out to a big West London " At 
 Home ' ' and both felt its waste and unreality. What a maze 
 the threads of life are in — from one point of view such meetings 
 have their use, but from another they seem nothing but false. 
 I don't wonder at Ben Tillett's attacks, but I wish he would 
 not. The habit of meeting extravagance with extravagance has 
 been in vain tried. We must not feel less, but he must speak 
 less. 
 
 1885. — Last night we dined at the . They are awfully 
 
 and terribly rich. The table was supposed to be a work of art 
 by which coarseness was hidden by flowers. At such dinners, 
 where one sitfe with hosts one has known for many years, one 
 understands why charities lack supi^ort. The money has gone 
 into show which is approved because it is elegant. The dinner 
 was not interesting . . . and doesn't bear thought. It was 
 ^vrong, a wasteful use of time, money, brain-tissue, and possi- 
 bilities of heart-work. Protest, protest against such extrava- 
 gance and shams. . . We then drove to the " Inventories." 
 The place was filled with folk in full dress, the lights were bril- 
 liant, and the fountains played their tune in colom% ending by a 
 note which seemed to take its rise m the stars. It made a 
 fairy sight — fairy, not heavenly, because it was wanting in 
 repose. 
 
 1889. — On Wednesday evenmg we dined M-ith the Bradleys 
 and enjoyed the high-bred Christianity of the English gentle- 
 
 Our own dinner parties were always interesting, and the 
 Vicarage dining-room witnessed some daring social blending 
 of East and West. Mr. Jowett, James RusseU Lowell, 
 Henry Ward, H. M. Stanley, Rev. Mark Wilkes, Walter 
 Besant, Mr. Asquith, Dr. Abbott, the Duke of Devonshire, 
 Tom Mann, Herbert Spencer, William Morris, Ernest Hart, 
 Ben Tillett, Lady Battersea, John Burns, Lord Goschen, 
 Frederick Rogers, Lord Bryce, Octavia HiU, Emma Cons, 
 and my sister made some interesting combinations and 
 produced live talk. 
 
 1884. — On Monday we had a dirmer party when East and 
 West met. Monteagle came in the evening, having heard Glad- 
 stone's speech which much depressed him. The evening was hot 
 and I was glad when they all went. The women were a better 
 lot than the men. 
 
"AT HOME" TO OUR FRIENDS 217 
 
 May 28th, 1886. — On Tuesday we had a pleasant dinner, 
 when my wife drew a brilHant conversation about Homo Rule 
 from Corrie Grant and C'ostelloe. I enjoyed a fresh young girl 
 whom 1 was allowed to have instead of a dignified dowager. 
 
 3Iay 21th, 1896. — We have had two dinner jDarties. At one 
 we had Cook, Verney, Gorst. There was no specially interest- 
 ing talk, though Gorst did say a few things born of disappoint- 
 ment at the Cabinet Council. At the other we had Spender, 
 Costelloe, Sidney Lee, and Crackanthorpe. Mrs. Crackanthorpe 
 is a very clever woman, able to dare and to express her darings. 
 She is emancipated and has not made herself a slave to new- 
 ness. 
 
 The talk was interesting on Manning. His ambition 
 and double-dealing were allowed. But was he anxious in 
 directing the publication of his letters to put on the white 
 sheet, or was he to the end all unconscious of the wrong he 
 was doing ? 
 
 Of one dinner Mrs. Hill and Miss Octavia both wrote : 
 
 1874. — 'Mt. and Mrs. Tom Hughes sent Ockey a pressing invitation, but 
 the Barnetts won. . . She had a very interesting time. 
 
 1888. — I dined at the Barnetts' last night, met Dr. Bridges (the 
 Comtist), the Rev. Dr. Abbott, Mr. and Mrs. Courtney, etc. Mr. Bamett 
 is trjring to get four acres of land, which is full of lodging-houses. . . 
 
 It was great fun " hosting " so various an assortment of 
 friends and my husband did it well, drawing out the charac- 
 teristics of individuals to produce either sympathy or argu- 
 ment. We dared to give only simple, not to say frugal fare, 
 so that none should be emljarrassed. 
 
 On every Monday evening and Wednesday afternoon 
 we were " At Home " to all sorts of folk, and many, very 
 many people came. 
 
 1880. — Yesterday we had a great press of visitors. My poor 
 little woman was hemmed in on all sides, and everyone wanted 
 to talk to her. People come more on Wednesday afternoons 
 than on Monday evenings. I am sorry, as I can be at home 
 on Mondays and not on Wednesdays. 
 
 1384. — ^\Vednesda'y my wife was ill, so I entertained her visitors. 
 Men turned up from Oxford who were anxious to hear of work. 
 They are good fellows, but what a lot they will learn ! Monday 
 we had a dinner party and some forty folk came during the 
 evening ; Oxford men again rather invaded us. 
 
 1—16 
 
218 MR. W. MORRIS DECORATES ST. JUDE'S 
 
 Of one of the Monday evenings Miss Harriett Harrison 
 wrote : 
 
 1884. — Dear Mks. Baenett, — What a wonderful party ! Even that 
 there could be such a thing and that it was a reality, is enough to make 
 one a proud woman for having seen the immensity of the family we all 
 belong to. It was like Botticelli's picture of the Nativity come true, with 
 the pilgrims bemg received at the door by angels with palms, and a loving 
 kiss-like greeting, with a sort of mixed-up merry-go-round of the angels 
 above. Do you remember the picture in the National Gallery ? 
 
 And the " mixed-up- merry- go- round angels " were all 
 yoked to St. Jude's omnibus, to do or get done something 
 for the public weal. In the St. Jude's Report Mr. Barnett 
 wrote : 
 
 1879. — There is room for every character and occupation for 
 every power. There is no one who can be in the way who 
 brings the will to be helpful. He who has learnt in an office 
 some business knowledge, he who from books and men has 
 learnt the secret of art and culture, as well as he who having 
 learnt of God knows the depth of man's being, may find their 
 places. All can bring a life with the interests which surround 
 it, and it is the life Avhich will teach the people. . . All can do 
 such a simple thing as make friends. I only ask that such 
 friend-making may be done in faith that it is one means of 
 reaching the deepest needs. . . 
 
 Of what some of the friends did I wiU now tell, beginning 
 with Mr. WiUiam Morris, whose powers served our people. 
 His colour-scheme for the Church lies before me : 
 
 East End : ajjple green stencilled in darker shade ; curtains red and 
 gold ; pillars scarlet ; dado for aisle walls of stronger tone ; walls above 
 stone ; apple green around clerestory windows ; abolish cornfield and 
 hedge frieze. 
 
 It sounds gaudy, but it was not so when carried out, 
 and on the scarlet pillars and the organ screen we placed 
 fine photographs of Itahan and Spanish masterpieces. 
 Above the string course were hung, in the earher years, 
 enormous drawings of angels lent by Mr. HoUday, and 
 later — 1889 — four of Mr. Watts's pictures.' The description 
 of one of these is here given ^ : 
 
 "The Messenqek of Death" 
 The man lying dying on his chair represents the heir to the treasures 
 and experiences of the ages. Around him are the emblems of his knowledge 
 
 1 Three of these are now in the hall of the Institute, Hampstead Garden 
 Suburb, and one, " The Good Samaritan," I have lent to my friends 
 the Bev. Sidney and Mrs. Vatoher, for St. Philip's, Stepney — the London 
 Hosj>ital Church. 
 
 " The Record, by Mrs. S. A. Barnett. 
 
PICTURES AND STATUARY IN CHURCH 219 
 
 and of his attainments: a written book, a read book, a violin, a globe, a 
 maDet, and a palette, emblematic respectively of history, literature, music, 
 astronomy, handicraft, and art. In the distance faintly delineated are a 
 pyramid, a Greek temple, and a Christian cupola, symbolising some 
 of the great religions in the world. The heir to Nature's conquests and 
 man's triumphs is dying. The great God's sexless Messenger is touching 
 his hand in summons. The background behind him is brown, the brown 
 of the earth ; the background behind the Messenger is blue, the blue of 
 the heavens; and " So much larger is the world behind the veil, that, 
 great as is the man here, he will be but as the little embryo babe carried 
 in the Messenger's arms, when he has passed from brown to blue." These 
 were the artist's words as he told me the meaning of his picture. 
 
 For the east end over the altar Mr. Wilson and Mr. Page 
 of the Slade School depicted, on a background of gold, eight 
 noble heads of men " di'yine by grace, human by grief." 
 
 " Whose are the heads ? " Mrs. Butcher was asked. 
 She was the dear old pensioner who sat in the Church during 
 the houi-s it was open for " those who care to think or pray 
 in quietness." 
 
 " No one ever told me, sir," she said, " but I think they 
 must be meant for the seven Churches of Asia ayid St. Jude's." 
 
 On the pictures in Church Mr. Barnett set a high value : 
 
 1879. — The unconscious influence of pictures in a place of 
 worship is not to be despised. In days when we cannot boast 
 that we have found in words a means of worship or rehgious 
 teaching, it may be well to trust somewhat to those influences 
 which will develop rather than provide thought and suggest 
 rather than define God. 
 
 In his letter to his brother he forges one of those hnks 
 between his family and his work which increased his care 
 for both. 
 
 The Chm'ch decoration is effective, and the gildmg which is 
 done out of the father's gold is a lesson of brightness. , . 
 
 The Vicar had confidently surrendered the Church and 
 its management into the hands of an elected Church 
 Council, and his faith in democratic government was justi- 
 fied when it permitted such innovations as statuary in 
 Church, and accepted Mr. Roscoe MuUins's loan of his great 
 statue of Isaac and Esau. Strangely through its silence it 
 spoke of the despair of the disinherited — a fit emblem of 
 the dumb pain of East London. 
 
 Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1875. — The great want of this East End of London is beauty ; 
 the streets are ugly, and few signs of taste are anywhere 
 apparent ; it is therefore well that it should be possible for both 
 
220 THE DOULTON DRINKING-FODTSITAIN 
 
 inhabitants and passers-by to enter a building which, by its 
 grace and beauty, should remind them of a world made beautiful 
 by God's Hand. 
 
 1885. — With the help of a neighbour who sells flowers in the 
 streets, we have now fresh plants in the Church every Sunday. 
 He is glad of the place in which they may live during that day, 
 and we are glad of the help they give us in our worship. . . 
 On Simday we had a big congregation and a Church decorated 
 with 104 arum lilies. 
 
 On weekdays as well as Sundays the Church was rarely 
 empty of flowers, which were arranged, not in conventional 
 ecclesiastical patterns, but freely as they grew. Usually 
 we received thanks, but sometimes surprised remon- 
 strance ; as for instance when I banked the altar with 
 furze bushes, which the docile Vicar had cut and carried 
 home from a Surrey common ; or when the great sprays of 
 wild roses or honeysuckle were allowed to toss out their 
 beauty in their lawful lawlessness. 
 
 Many foolish and cruel things were said about Barnett's work — wrote 
 the Rev. the Hon. J. G. Adderley, in his Reminiscences, 1916 — and the very 
 remembrance of them makes us see how much we have learnt since then. 
 For instance, when a fountain was erected — outside the west wall of the 
 Church — it was supposed to be "unspiritual " and people sneered at what 
 they called " Christianity assisting at its own funeral." 
 
 And yet the designing and erection of that fountain 
 gave us great pleasure. 
 
 The bright colour breaks the weary dullness of the street, as 
 the rainbow colours break the desolation of a flooded world. 
 
 Its cost, £46, was paid by my earnings, for I was writing 
 a good deal at that time, and so gave to the " sad, bad, 
 mad " ones of Whitechapel what knowledge of their pain 
 had enabled me to gain. The illustration will show the 
 words we chose, in the hope that some of those who stopped 
 to drink would gi'ope after their meaning. Many who used 
 our fountain were sorry specimens of the human family. 
 The Ishmaels of civihsation, the do^vntrodden women, the 
 haK-witted wanderer, the homeless " rotter," used the 
 same cup as the mischievous splashing boys, or the thirsty 
 country carter bringing in his load of hay for the market, 
 still held in the open street. Sometimes the tramps would 
 wash their clothes and utensils as well as their bodies. Once 
 from his dressing-room window my husband — who always 
 got up at 5.30 — saw a woman tramp undress her baby and 
 
THE SHOEBLACKS' HOTEL 221 
 
 bathe it tenderly in the Doulton basin. He slipped down- 
 stairs, brought her in to breakfast, and called me to hear 
 her tale, which was a rare one of undeserved misfortune. 
 But it concluded with that tenderly given cold bath, for she 
 was helped to rejoin her husband, and has made a home 
 in Canada, cherishing gratitude, for fear that long years 
 should slay it. 
 
 But friends are the keynote of this chapter, and from 
 them came the new organ, long waited for, but a beauty 
 when it arrived, built by Messrs. Wilhs, under Mr. Heath- 
 cote Statham's directions. By others Whitechapel was 
 given further facihties for washing. 
 
 1874. — To the persistent exertions of the Rev. 11. M. Clifiord, 
 a friend to all of us, the debt on the baths and wash-houses 
 in Goulston Street has been paid ofi, and the buildings handed 
 over to the Vestry. 
 
 In those days the Committees of Boys' Homes obtained 
 from the Home Office the right to hold shoeblacking stations 
 in the London streets, to which the boys were sent, to return 
 in the evening and state what they had earned. In the 
 Mansell Street Home Mr. Barnett — most efficiently sup- 
 ported by our dear friend Mr. Tourell, the superintendent 
 — turned the Home into a seK-governing hotel, and by 
 putting the stations up to auction arrived at their economic 
 value to the boys. Thus there was no temptation to he 
 about earnings, and independence was encouraged. The 
 boys bought from the kitchen buffet such food as they 
 fancied and could afford, and the rent of the stations enabled 
 helpful influences such as a band, books, classes, camp 
 holidays, and Sunday rambles to be provided. In short, 
 " pianos, pictures, and parties " were once more used for 
 the saving of souls. 
 
 Ig74. — Aided by friends I have been enabled to give many 
 boys another start in life. . . After some training — for discip- 
 line and attendance at night school are conditions of residence 
 — in the Shoeblacks Brigade, they have passed out into work 
 either on land or sea. 
 
 Helped by Mr. Ernest Hart and other friendly doctors, a 
 Medical Club was formed, on a plan which was a forecast 
 in principle of the present panel system : 
 
 1877. — By the payment of about one penny a week arrange- 
 ments have been made by which anyone may obtain attend- 
 
222 FLOWER SHOWS 
 
 ance and medicine from any of the doctors living in the neigh- 
 bourhood. This plan obviates the difficulty of providing dis- 
 penser and medicines which hampers jDrovident dispensaries. . . 
 We have had to deal with all those difficulties which surround 
 an untried scheme, and some special difficulties which seem 
 to mock our efforts. Some day success must come, the hospitals 
 will recognise the mischief of their indiscriminate relief, and the 
 poor will welcome the opportunity of being independent. 
 
 It was the friends, also, who took small groups of children 
 to ramble in the parks and to play on the Tower Wharf. 
 To many these Saturday afternoons were a revelation, for 
 the very ignorant rarely move beyond their own streets. 
 Unaware of what to seek or in which direction to seek it, 
 their powers of effort and imagination both fail. 
 
 It was to our friends that our neighbours owed the sight 
 of flowers, for then none were sold in the streets. Every 
 week thousands of dainty bunches arrived at the Vicarage, 
 and were taken by the lady rent-collectors to the healthy, 
 and by the parish nurse to the sick. We also promoted 
 every kind of Flower Show, from the exhibition of the poor 
 sickly seedHngs reared by the children, to the gorgeous 
 displays of hot-house plants lent by the Horticultural and 
 Botanical Societies, or sent from the conservatories of the 
 richest of East London's well-wishers. Whatever the form, 
 the motive was always the same. 
 
 1874. — The Flower Show in the summer helped those who 
 live in our terrible courts to know that there is One whose will 
 is that beauty should cover the earth. 
 
 In the years under review — 1873-80 — the intention was 
 to induce people themselves to grow flowers. Seeds, plants, 
 pots, and instructions were given, and a lively interest shown 
 and encouraged. Mr. Leonard Montefiore, that man of rare 
 gifts and fascinating personality, appeared every summer, 
 as he said of himself, as a " hardy annual," and gave up 
 weeks of the long vacation to visit the exhibitors, label the 
 plants, invent the rules, and organise the important day. 
 Then, amid the crowds of eager people, noisy children, 
 discontented plant-owners, he kept the peace, and rained 
 the sunshine of his happy laughter on all alike, Jew or 
 Gentile, old or young. The Flower Shows brought — 
 
 1876. — Many expressions of gratification that those divided by 
 their creeds had found so pleasant a bond of imion. 
 
REV. HARRY AND MRS. JONES 223 
 
 A few years later the flowers created another union 
 between the Church, the Jews, and the Ragged School 
 organisation in George Yard, but — the Vicar wrote — 
 
 1879. — The dissatisfaction expressed at the prize-giving, the 
 discovery that notwithstanding many precautious much cheating 
 existed, the sense that the spirit encouraged is not a good spirit, 
 convince me that for us a Flower Show is not advisable. Some 
 other plan of encouragmg the growth of flowers must be adopted. 
 
 We discontinued the shows of home-grown flowers with 
 much regret, for to some of the least controlled of the 
 people the tending of plants had been an uphfting influence, 
 but the extraordinary ingenuity of those who had cheated 
 — and they were not few — to try to obtain prizes, and the 
 anger and suspicion aroused in the virtuous, as well as the 
 festering quarrels the subject produced, made the decision 
 to abandon them necessary. 
 
 Among the friends made in those days was Mr. Brooke 
 Lambert, who had spent four years as Vicar of St. Mark's, 
 Whitechapel, and was then Vicar of Tamworth. 
 
 I am sorry to hear that Barnett means to marry before he goes to East 
 London — wrote Mr. Lambert to Miss Octavia Hill. — The work is onerous 
 and continuous, and a wife can only be an incumbrance. 
 
 This letter amused Miss Octavia, who sent it to us. About 
 a year after, during Mr. Barnett's severe illness, Mr. Lam- 
 bert called ; and with his letter in my memory, I went into 
 the dra-wing-room to receive him, pretending gauoherie. ' 
 
 " Well, Missy," he said, " and who are you ? " ', 
 
 " Please, sir," I said, dropping him a mocking curtsey, 
 " I am the incumbrance." 
 
 " God bless my soul, are you ? " he exclaimed in some 
 confusion, and then we shook hands and became real 
 friends until he left this earth on January 25th, 1901. He 
 and my husband were united by many ties of intellectual 
 sympathy and common Work, but the closest bond was 
 Mr. Barnett's admiration for Mr. Lambert's character. Even 
 when we seriously differed from him on matters connected 
 with the Departmental Committee on Poor Law Children — 
 1896 — my husband's faith in him never faltered, and our 
 triangular friendship survived the shock of opposing action. 
 
 The Rector of St. George' s-in-the-East, Harry Jones, was 
 also our very good friend ; large and hilarious, strong and 
 pugihstic, rich and racy, he seemed an odd sort of exponent 
 of the teaching of the meek Nazarene carpenter, untd you 
 reached his generous heart where loyalty and truth dwelt 
 
224 BISHOP ELLICOTT 
 
 supreme. He keenly enjoyed giving large dinner parties, 
 when Mrs. Jones and her dogs would welcome the guests 
 amid her stiff old-world furniture. When dinner was 
 announced, Mr. Harry Jones would seize his lady, and 
 hastening to the top of the table would commence to say 
 grace in stentorian tones, Mrs. Jones — at the end of the tail 
 of couples — starthng us all by her unexpected " Amen " 
 pronounced loudly in wifely chorus, sometimes even before 
 she had left the drawing-room. It was very funny, and 
 we both enjoyed watching for it and observing the shock 
 it caused on the uninitiated. One of Mr. Jones's letters is 
 characteristic of his boisterous, whimsical, tender nature. 
 
 Rectory, St. Geobge-in-the-East, E., May 20th, 1879. 
 
 My dear Barnett, — Sympathy is sweet. I go mourning all ye day 
 long ; the odour of your words is grateful to my soul. . . 
 
 There are some bits of standing ground, and thank God there is a 
 pathetically grotesque side to many of our situations and disappointments. 
 
 The perverse way in which ye tenderest efforts are sometimes twisted 
 into channels of crooked impulse is perhaps most sickening, as when ye 
 people " cheated " at your Flower Show. . . 
 
 Much, however, depends on ye way we look at things. I recall ye 
 view of consolation taken by a sick soldier through whose hospital ye Duke 
 of Cambridge walked. He was shortly afterwards found bubbling over 
 with gratification. " Something pleased you, Tom, eh ? " says a visitor. 
 " Yes, sir, the Dook ; he have been by, and he was so kind. He spoke to 
 me, sir ; oh, he was so kind." " And what did he say, Tom ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, he stopped, and he looked at me and said, ' Is that you, 
 Tom, you blackguard ? I thought you had gone to the devil long ago.' " 
 
 Our united kiad regards to your good wife. 
 
 Ever, thine sincerely, Harry Jones. 
 
 With Bishop EUicott our relationship began with a comic 
 incident, for, with aU his learning and refinement, he looked 
 shrivelled and unkempt. Old Nurse, who opened the door 
 to him and who had an experienced horror of the pretenders 
 who stole coats, did not approve of his appearance nor of 
 that of his strange bag, and so, refusing to admit him, 
 advised him to walk up and down the street tiU the Vicar 
 came, adding : 
 
 " You will recognise him if you know him, as you say 
 you do," advice which he uncomplainingly followed. 
 
 It was our friends, too, who gladdened our holidays. We 
 always started alone and for two or three weeks revelled in 
 our recurrent honeymoons. Then we were often joined 
 either by old friends or men whom Mr. Barnett wanted to 
 see quietly. To the party a few girls were added, who 
 found a young and most indulgent chaperon. Cornwall, 
 
DECISION TO WINTER IN EGYPT 225 
 
 the Channel Isles, the Yorkshire Moors, and South Wales 
 are beautiful backgrounds for good talk, and when into 
 hohday relationships are brought such people as Arnold 
 Toynbee and his wife, C. Harrison Townsend, Sir Gregory 
 and Lady Foster, Graham Wallas, Ernest Hart, Rev. 
 Ronald Bayne, Octavia Hill, Dr. Gregory, and B. P. C. 
 CosteUoe, interesting conversation must ensue, specially 
 when guided by the subtle sympathy and fearless brain of 
 my husband. We often prepared a menu of conversation 
 and commandeered the memory-stores of the party. My 
 husband was very fond of reading aloud, which he did well. 
 To him it made no difference whether the book was in 
 English or French, for if in the latter he translated it so 
 rapidly that the reading proceeded uninterruptedly. I 
 remember Miss Octavia refusing to beUeve that he was 
 not reading English, and those long books of George Sand, 
 Balzac, and Dumas, as well as Browning, Robertson, and 
 Matthew Arnold, are interwoven in my mind with his voice, 
 and the sea, and rocks, and cornfields of Georgeham, Newlyn, 
 Pendine, at all of which places we took hohdays, Mr. Barnett 
 earning the rent of the Vicarages which we filled with guests . 
 In March 1879 I was very iU, and came quite close to the 
 Great Gates. A long trying summer spent in Whitechapel left 
 results which made it desirable to spend the next winter in 
 the sunshine. We therefore decided to go to Egypt ; Mr. 
 Brooke Lambert making it possible by generously under- 
 taking to Uve in the httle Vicarage and serve the parish. Mr. 
 Barnett wrote to his parishioners on our proposed absence : 
 
 1880. — Even though had there been no ill-health to force us 
 away, I am inclined to think that after seven years' Hfe ia the 
 East End a long spell amid other scenes is desirable on every 
 ground. I have often told you how I believe that the Gospel 
 of the higher life is not to be conveyed in any set phrase or by 
 any one means. It now reaches men through the thousand 
 influences of literature, art, society, which have been touched 
 by the spirit of Christ. A man must, it seems to me, go to the 
 people of the East End not as to heathens, not as to people 
 morally worse than the rich, but as to those who are out of 
 reach of many influences powerful to make life fuller and higher. 
 He can only meet their real needs by making himself the channel 
 of such influences by keeping his own mind open and his own 
 hopes firm. He must refresh himself with new scenes so that 
 he may realise the needs which exist around his home, so that 
 he may gather thoughts to spend on others, so that he may 
 obtain strength to work where he will see no result of his labour. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 EGYPT 
 
 " Each nation grows in strength as it enters more deeply into the life of other 
 nations^ 
 
 We were away from home for six months, and during that 
 time Mr. Barnett wrote seventy-five long letters to his 
 mother. They are all written in his small clear handwriting, 
 and usually occupy eight sheets of large-sized foreign-letter 
 paper. They are rich in suggestive thought, and perhaps 
 some day it would be well to pubhsh them for the use of 
 travellers to the Nile ; but for this book a few selections 
 only can be given. Our party included JVIiss Kate Potter, 
 her sister Margaret, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. The two 
 latter joined us in Cairo, but Kate, my husband, and I started 
 from Liverpool, the only passengers in one of Mr. Holt's 
 ships, and had a slow restful sea-jom-ney. Mr. Barnett's 
 first impression of the East are expressed vividly : 
 
 Poet Said, November 2\st, 1879. — ^\Vhen we dropped our 
 anchor, a scene opened of which one has often dreamt. Boats 
 hke bees swarmed romid the ship. Bum-boats loaded with 
 beads, corals, and bright things to attract sailors; official boats 
 with officials of small stature and large personality ; business 
 boats with business men busy with their own importance ; 
 coaling boats loaded with tall dark figures looking like shades 
 crossing the Styx ; boats for hire "with Arab boys tempting pas- 
 sengers with broken English. Each boat roused a new interest, 
 and the time fled as we watched things strange and new. It is 
 worth a sea- journey thus to enter a new port to feel how by a 
 sudden spring one's mind is enlarged. 
 
 The Agent came on board full of anxiety to be friendly. . . 
 His well-appointed four-oared boat with sailors in English cos- 
 tume bore us ashore and he set himseK to be our guide. We 
 were on Egj^ptian land, a wretched spit on which no house would 
 have stood except for the canal. Wooden shanties have been 
 run up in rows ; there is no road, but passengers walk on the 
 sand between the shanties. The place suggests one of the towns 
 
 226 
 
FIEST IMPEESSIONS OF THE EAST 227 
 
 around gold diggings, or one of the annexes wliich surrounded 
 the Great Exhibition. 
 
 The shanties, which are open in front, show all kinds of goods, 
 and on the sand paths one meets men of all nations. The Arabs 
 were to us the most interesting, but it was amusing to see a fat 
 Frenchman on a very small donkey, just keeping his heels above 
 the ground, and protecting himself from the sun by an umbrella. 
 The Arabs moved about with dignity, looking, even when poor 
 and ill-treated, most like the masters of the land. The Sheiks 
 wore gorgeous clothing, silk surplices of many colours. The 
 poor had scanty clothing which showed their long bare legs, 
 but not one had the wretchedness which belongs in England 
 to clothing as scanty. The women show only their eyes, a 
 narrow cloth hung on a bit of wire is fastened over their noses, 
 and hangs to their waist; their eyes thus shine out very bril- 
 liantly, and perhaps the charms thus half-revealed are most 
 attractive. The sad sight was the prevalence of ophthalmia, 
 and blindness, due to the flies, and the want of water. 
 
 We went direct to Cairo and stayed in the Hotel du Nil. 
 
 We were delighted to find that our hotel is in the old 
 thoroughfare down a narrow passage, and in the centre of Arab 
 life. Once inside we were even more delighted. The house is 
 built around a garden, where palms with hanging clusters of 
 dates, and trees laden with oranges, wave above roses, banana 
 trees, flowers and shrubs unseen at home save in hot-houses. 
 Over this garden our room looks, and I am writing this at the 
 open window, through which amid the palm branches the moon- 
 light streams. 
 
 Of some of the wonders of that semi- Eastern town Mr. 
 Barnett's letters speak. They aU begin " My dearest 
 Mother," so those words need not be repeated. 
 
 Hotel du Nil, November 2Sth, 1879. — Riding on donkeys we 
 went to the Mosque of the Dancing Dervishes. The place was 
 desolate and looked hke Hengler's Circus after a year's disuse. 
 In the arena were eight or ten figures with conical hats, stiff 
 petticoats like pleated note-paper, and bare feet. They stood 
 motionless, barbaric music sounded, and then the figures com- 
 menced to whirl like teetotums. Their eyes were closed, their 
 arms extended, and their motion regular as a machine. From 
 one point of view the performance was ridiculous, but from an- 
 other it was solemn. These men were utterly impassive, and 
 it seemed as if their aim was to get rid of the upstart self which 
 is so often impertinent before God. We get rid, or ought to 
 get rid, of the same self ia devotion to others' needs ; in as far 
 as we fail we must respect those who ia their way succeed. 
 We heard that these men sometimes work themselves into a 
 
228 A READER IN THE MOSQUE 
 
 state of frenzy and are hardly restrained from killing themselves 
 with cuts and blows. They, that is to say, lose themselves, and 
 feel their bodies as foreign substances with which they have 
 nothing to do. 
 
 Caibo, November 30th, 1879. — Yesterday we rode to the Tombs 
 of the Princes, a poor sight of French gilding and trumpery 
 hangings, but a ride through strange surroundings. Across 
 deep sand, under high walls on which the sun struck without a 
 shadow, we passed, and everywhere stood unguarded tombs. 
 Here death seemed to have no sadness but only desolation. I 
 beheve that Abraham bought a field, a piece of brighter ground, 
 because he could not put his dead in such unloving surroundings. 
 It is enough that life's walk should be so often through garish 
 day ; death wants softness and colour, and suggestions of hght 
 greater than that of the sun. 
 
 In the mosque a crowd of men and women — about fifty — had 
 gathered, squatting around a man who was reading the law. 
 He was a chance-comer, unpaid, who was thus teaching his 
 fellows. As he ended, all quietly got up, and each one went 
 forward in turn to kiss his hand in token of thanks. So I sup- 
 pose did Christ enter the synagogues and read to the people. 
 
 Such simple forms are very beautiful. One curses the law 
 which forces the sacrifice of so much that is good in the old to 
 make way for the new. I expect it is the flaw in our civihsation. 
 To obtain use, we have given up beautif3dng as our ancestors 
 did, and we scorn as " barbaric " achievements out of our power. 
 The West needs to hear every day the text, " He that believeth 
 shall not make haste." Who knows in this old country, where 
 beauty is still as much thought of as use, where they still use 
 a bow for a turning lathe, Avhere they blow a smith's fire with 
 a rush fan, and eat vegetables instead of meat, there may not 
 be more progress ? They have been passed by Persians, Greeks, 
 and Romans, and the race has not yet been to the swift. . . 
 
 Before we left England it had not been planned that 
 Mr. Spencer should be included in our party, but after we 
 had started Mr. and Mrs. Potter suggested that as he was 
 much out of health he should take their younger daughter 
 Margaret, and join us for the Nile journey, in the hope 
 that it would do him good. We were somewhat dismayed 
 to have so celebrated a personage, and one we had only 
 met once, added to our trio, but it evidently never occurred 
 to Mr. Spencer that he might not be welcome, and so there 
 was nothing else to do but to fall in with the plan. My 
 husband thought he might be a real acquisition, all the 
 more as one of the anticipated pleasures of the holiday 
 was the opportunity of discussing subjects other than those 
 
OUR DAHABEEH THE " HEDWIG " 229 
 
 connected with social reform. After a few days' acquaint- 
 ance he wrote : 
 
 Hotel du Nil, Cairo, November 29th, 1879.— This morning I 
 went for a walk with Herbert Spencer through Cairo. He is 
 not the companion with whom to see such places. I am more 
 conscious of him than of what is around. He is not the big 
 man I expected, whose opinions, if distasteful, would yet have 
 overwhelming force to keep a person like me in subjection. 
 He is distinctly a little man, one to awaken neither reverence 
 nor respect. He is small in character, which he shows by his 
 suspicion of his fellows, his incapacity to trust anyone, and 
 his constant consideration of himself and of all small things. He 
 is small, too, in thought ; his vision is limited to see only what 
 his theories allow him to see. He has no sense of the great- 
 ness of the unknown, no modesty about his own knowledge. 
 Pie has considered all things. He knows the past and the 
 future ; and behold, Herbert Spencer is greater than either ! 
 Otherwise he is not a bad companion. 
 
 We had hardly been a week at Cairo when Mr. Barnett 
 became ill with dysentery. 
 
 Hotel du Nil, Caieo, December 8th, 1879. — It has been 
 wretched to be seedy. The inner eye has blinded the outer. 
 Cairo ceased to be beautiful, the composition of our party be- 
 came unbearable. The streets became narrow, and we protested 
 against the indolence which left them without stones or pitch- 
 ing, mere dust passages, uncleansed and unswept. The people 
 seemed dirty, and we forgot their picturesque costumes as we 
 saw them catching fleas about their persons, and became con- 
 scious of smells which suggested other abominations. The noise 
 of the water-carriers jingling their cups or the outrunners 
 warning the passengers wearied us, and we thought with envy 
 of the quiet of Clifton under the newly organised police. 
 
 Then the nights, which had seemed so marvellous in their 
 starlit beauty, now became hideous with the cries of dervishes 
 who would howl themselves into self-forgetfulness, of mourners 
 who would wake the dead, of dogs who, leaving the tombs and 
 hiding-places, fought with one another over the garbage of the 
 streets, of cats meeting as they meet in England, to express in 
 louder tones the sormds which admit of so many interpretations. 
 My ■wife was made nervous by all these noises. Fimerals and 
 horrors surrounded us, and she wished the dogs would eat the 
 cats and die of indigestion. 
 
 In Cairo we hired the " Hedwig," the largest dahabeeh 
 we could find, a delightful old dragoman called AJi who was 
 always gorgeously arrayed, and a troupe of twenty many- 
 
230 MR. HERBERT SPENCER 
 
 hued and blue-robed sailors and servants. After being 
 ceremoniously welcomed by them aU, and having paid cor- 
 responding courtesies, we started on Dec. 10th, 1879, to 
 spend three months sailing with the wind against the stream, 
 in the hope of gaining strength and reaching Wadi-Halfah. 
 We sailed up the Nile rather more rapidly than is usual, for 
 the wind was strong and persistent, and the weather being 
 very cold made us unanimous in wishing to hasten south- 
 ward. Every member of our party devoted much time and 
 thought to I'lr. Spencer, and, shocking as it may appear to 
 his disciples, it may be worth while to give Mr. Barnett's 
 summing-up of his theories. 
 
 December 2\st, 1879. — As you know, Herbert Spencer has a 
 world-wide reputation and is looked up to by some clever people 
 as their great light. I have not read his books., I found them 
 alien and dull. Here is what I make of his philosophy from 
 his talk. He applies the principle of DarA^in to social Ufe, and 
 by examples from present primitive races shows how complex 
 customs and institutions have been evolved. His greatest ex- 
 ample is religion. "Savages," he says, "dream of their dead 
 ancestors. These ancestors seem to them to be aUve, inhabit- 
 ing the original seat of the race. They make offerings to these 
 ancestors, the ancestors become to them gods, and hence the 
 whole religious fabric." The ancestral ghost is thus the origin 
 of rehgions. This principle he apphes about everything. Shak- 
 ing hands is a compromise between two people, each one of 
 whom would kiss the hand of the other. The force which 
 makes customs to evolve is the working of seU-mterest. 
 
 Such, very meagrely stated, seems to be his philosophy. Its 
 effect on him is, first of all, to make him narrowly hard on all 
 customs of primitive races. He dishkes their simplicity, their 
 love of ornament, their want of ambition, because all are marks 
 of the savage state. Secondly, it makes liim disbelieve in any 
 other than a selfish motive, and excludes from life, imagination, 
 poetry, and love. Everyone has rights and ought to insist on 
 theh- recognition. Thirdly, it provides him with a theory into 
 which he would force all evidence. 
 
 Ho is strangely ignorant of history and literature ; so I 
 should be shy of taking any of his facts. Hence his theory 
 does not appeal to me. He has a great reputation. Sometimes 
 I think it due to the happy accident that in a scientific age he 
 has found a scientific formula to explain the mysteries of social 
 life. The scientific men cro^vn him, the silly world worships 
 him, just as in old times when a man discovered a pagan formula 
 for Cliristian truths, the writers in love with Homer and Virgil 
 crowned him and the world worshipped. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHER PERPLEXING 231 
 
 Of course this is only my view, a view of an ignorant person 
 after a sliort experience. Such as it is, you will see how his 
 presence affects us. First of all, he drives us into the conservative 
 camp. We are led to take the conservative side, to defend the 
 simple, luiambitious, improgressive life of the Arabs, and to 
 protest in favour of the originality of the religious idea. Secondly, 
 you will see, he is not interesting. There are few matters which 
 he knows enough of, or is mterested enough in, to discuss. He 
 likes gossip or chaff. Lastly, being suspicious and only satisfied 
 when he discovers that others' interests coincide with his plea- 
 sure, he jars on our anxiety to be happy. With all this he is 
 courteous and anxious to please. W^e might have had many 
 worse companions, and he causes many a laugh as he is " drawn " 
 by the young women. 
 
 Mr. Spencer was both a surprise and a puzzle to us. He 
 enjoyed the society of ladies, though he was much vexed if 
 he were suspected of so doing, and he would hsten with 
 amusement to empty smoking-room conversation, but 
 what really annoyed him was being asked questions by 
 admirers of his books. He shied violently from young men 
 who wanted his opinion, and refused to attend to any talk 
 on debatable subjects. " Do you not think, sir ? " in a 
 male voice drove him from the room, and I never remember 
 his asking any one of the interesting and charming people 
 we met on that journey, for information or experience, 
 though they were often the experts on their own subjects. 
 While we were in Cairo, the savants of every nation who 
 were there sought to see Mr. Spencer, bringing him letters 
 of introduction and making great efforts to suit his con- 
 venience. To them all he was most distant and forbidding. 
 One such visitor, a professor of world-wide reputation, came 
 into the sitting-room evidently anticipating the privilege 
 and pleasure of a conversation, but the gaunt philosopher 
 received him standing, did not ask him to sit do^vn, and 
 after an awful pause — for Mr. Spencer had the power of 
 shrivelling people up — he said : 
 
 " Monsieur, je n'aime pas les introductions qui ne viennent 
 a rien. Bon jour." My hu.sband endeavoured to smooth 
 the feehngs of the wounded admirer, but unavaihngly. 
 
 The tombs and the temples, and our interest in them, 
 vexed Mi. Spencer very much, and I find it chronicled in 
 my diary that to please him the ever-unseliish Kate hurried 
 us through the immortal tomb of Tii, the philosopher 
 standing impatiently outside having announced that we 
 had better come away, for " when anyone has seen the class 
 
232 SAILING UP THE NILE 
 
 of thing it was quite as efficacious, less fatiguing, and more 
 convenient to study the facts from books and pictures." 
 Of our first sight of the Nile I wrote : 
 
 1879. — At last we stood on the bank of the old Nile. A hundred thoughts 
 and pictures of the lives, joys, pains of the multitudes who had lived by it, 
 on it, for it, chased each other through our minds. We stood silenced 
 by its historic beauty, till Mr. Spencer broke the pause with : " The colour 
 of the water hardly vouches for its hygienic properties." 
 
 " I think there should be some punishment for people 
 who lead one to these places by false representations," he 
 frequently said, and this indeed was his constant attitude of 
 mind towards everything of fascinating beauty or interest 
 on the Nile. 
 
 Spencer tries to be nice, and he is always a " gentleman." 
 Privately we call him a " mummy." That's just it, he has 
 lived his hfe in a tomb, and having walked all round it and 
 with some pains discovered its secrets, presumes to shout out to 
 the world that he knows its secrets also. There's nothing hke 
 personal contact with a philosopher for showing one the strength 
 of one's opposition to his views. One runs from Spencer's arms 
 to admire the Arab or the English peasant, who, though bar- 
 barians to him, dimly feel an Unknown before which they bow. 
 
 For those who are not prepared to find their pleasures 
 in looking, reading, or sketching, a journey up the Nile by 
 sail is often a mistake. It never bored Mr. Barnett, but Mr. 
 Spencer found himself not only bored but irritated. Perhaps 
 his annoyance was partly due to his inabihty to make the 
 facts aromid him harmonise with his theories on Egypt. 
 He would propound an hypothesis, and give in support of his 
 view sundry bits of evidence which he had picked up from 
 Ah or the guides. But his French was very imperfect, and 
 we, thinking he was seeking truth, would tell him how he 
 had misunderstood Ah's language or bring forth fresh facts 
 which modified, if they did not contradict, his assertions. 
 When, however, we found that these innocent and perfectly 
 genuine efforts to assist him only made him angry,' we of 
 course desisted, but the ehmination of so many subjects 
 of conversation made entertaining him more difficult. 
 
 We had with us a great box full of books chiefly on Egypt, 
 though there were some on Turkey, Greece, and Italy as 
 we had planned to return through Europe. On some days 
 Mr. Barnett sat on deck for hours reading — often aloud ; 
 at other times we took long excursions. 
 
 1 Huxley noted this same trait in Mr. Spencer's character, saying, 
 " Tragedy for Spencer was a deduction killed by a fact." 
 
THE TOMBS OP THE KINGS 233 
 
 1879. — On Saturday morning the sun rose in his might, and 
 at 8 o'clock we were all oli to the Tombs of the Kings. It was 
 a three-hours ride. I like the physical pleasure of a good gallop 
 on a willing donkey. I enjoyed the ride thi'ough the blazing 
 barrenness of the valley. Gloom is so often associated with 
 what is dark that it startles one to be in a scene when the very 
 briUiance creates gloom. The rocks seem to mock the life- 
 giving sun and to assert themselves as fit companions for the 
 dead. 
 
 We went into the tomb ; and felt our brains whirl as we saw 
 the myriad figures of gods, men, and beasts. We could admire 
 the bright colouring, the grace of the drawing, the tenderness 
 of the feeling, but what does it mean ? Had these Egyptians 
 a deep spiritual faith, a superstition, or a science ? One thing 
 is clear, their prayer was that they might be calm and still ; 
 their belief was that fife went on for ever. Perhaps underneath 
 outward forms they saw those eternal forces which have been 
 revealed more clearly in the life of Christ ; perhaps they saw 
 in these outward forms footprints of old times which made 
 them holy. We came from the tomb utterly dazed, but at the 
 same time deeply conscious we had been amid things that speak. 
 
 Every day brought its pleasures, its gift of beauty, 
 glimpses into the lives of the people, and further under- 
 standing of our crew, who under All's influence served us 
 with efficiency and devotion. After the experience of the 
 degradation of our Whitechapel neighbours, it was delightful 
 to Uve in daily relationship with twenty men so industrious, 
 frugal, self-respecting, and considerate. My husband's 
 letters tell many tales about them, and though only one — 
 — the house servant — talked English, we managed to obtain 
 a considerable insight into their circumstances, thoughts, and 
 hopes. The sailors squabbled as to who should accompany 
 us on the long land excursions, a pure gift of service, as 
 we never gave them tips, and they eagerly seized every 
 occasion to amuse us. 
 
 On hoard the " Hedwig," December 2lst, 1879. — Our serving-man 
 we call Pharaoh, as that is our nearest approach to his Arab 
 name. We feel as he waits on us that we take vengeance for 
 the Israehtes. He is a good fellow who knows a httle Enghsh. 
 He speaks of his " factory " for coffee, and of " young " bread. 
 He has no sense of class difference, making certain relations 
 impossible. Miss Potter's collar was not straight, and he put 
 up his hand and smoothed it. Such equahty is remarkable, 
 connected as it is with caste and despotism. . . This morning 
 I heard him say to Spencer, " You wash to-day ? " meaning, were 
 
 1—17 
 
234 THE ARAB CREW 
 
 his clothes ready for the wash ? He talks about the backbone 
 of a chicken as a " fowl's box." While my wife was ill he came 
 to me and said he would get tilings all day long, and then when 
 she came to breakfast and he stood behind her chair waving 
 off the flies, he said at frequent intervals, "I'se glad you better." 
 Did I tell you how she found a neat little gilt cross nailed 
 above her bed ? Now, he said, she would " never be sick again." 
 It was nice of him to use the Christian symbol. It showed 
 hberaUty, though, as he told her, a bit of the Koran would be 
 better. 
 
 The " Hedwig," December 1879. — -These Arab sailors give us no 
 end of interest. They are children with the dignity of gentle- 
 men. If we look as if we wanted something, one rushes forward 
 to get it. They do their work solemnly. When I go early on 
 deck I see piles of what seems clothing about the deck. Silently 
 obeying some instinct rather than an order, like flowers in a 
 field, these heaps rise and, one after another, prove to be men 
 and go about their work. After breakfast we wish them " Good 
 morning," which causes a great sensation, they touch heads 
 and hearts, smiling their joy. At stmset most of them pray. 
 Facing the east, with a bit of carpet before them, they seem 
 to be xmconscious of all things as they bow, kneel, and prostrate 
 themselves. I expect the habit is very good. The mind has a 
 way of keeping in tune with the body, and when the body is 
 thus humbled the mind too becomes humble. With cuts and 
 
 bruises they come to Y • for doctoring, and she, beheving 
 
 only in cold water with a great appearance of bandaging, has 
 been successful. 
 
 The " Hedwig," December 29th, 1879. — My wife has painted the 
 cook ! ! That's the greatest event since my last letter. He is 
 such a cook ; his costume represents a survival of the unfittest. 
 English boots whose rotten elastic sides reveal his bare feet, 
 cahco drawers, an Enghsh shooting-coat over a sky-blue Arab 
 waistcoat, all covered by a surtout which may have belonged 
 to a Russian noble. His costume, his occupation, or his nature 
 gives him a shrinking look. This morning he has been standing 
 
 far from Y encouraged by her words "good cook" to 
 
 abstain from sinking through the floor while she painted himj 
 She has got something like him, at any rate when we look at the 
 picture we shall think of fowls, pigeons, and onions. . . 
 
 On Christmas Day we prepared a grand snapdragon for our 
 crew. They had never seen such a sight. It was amusing. 
 They cheered, and with every cheer in regular rhythm, they 
 put their hands in the flames and pulled out raisins which they 
 at once dropped. The object to them seemed to be to empty the 
 tray. At last like the Chinaman and roast pig one sucked his 
 fingers. Then all began to pick up those on the ground and to 
 
NEW YEAR'S DAY FANTASIA 235 
 
 say " good, good." I hope they won't think other things as 
 good require tire, or we may be having a tlare-up. 
 
 On New Year's Day we got up to find tho deck and the 
 saloon decorated with pahn branches and hung with apples 
 and oranges. A cake of fanciful structure and many sweet- 
 meats adorned the table ; Ah was magnificently dressed 
 and all the men wore bright clothes and glad faces. After 
 breakfast we were summoned on deck by music and found 
 Ismailla dressed up in an old Enghsh coat with a false 
 beard and the skin of one of the consumed sheep converted 
 into a head-dress of dignified appearance. Then a panto- 
 mimic display was begun for our amusement. First he took 
 off the bumptious Enghshman, self-assertive and important. 
 Then the Enghsh sportsman, robust and merry. He was 
 followed by a funny representation of the Enghsh fine lady 
 mincing as she walked. Lastly, he mimicked the Turkish 
 tax-collector sitting cross-legged with a long pipe. Before 
 him all the crew was brought to pay their dues, the sad 
 beautiful-faced Hassein pretending to read the amounts off 
 an old envelope from Mr. Atkinson from St. Jude's. The 
 Rais, refusing to pay, was bastinadoed amid shouts of 
 laughter ; old AK paid up handsomely, the cook comically 
 pleaded for time, the second Rais was dragged uproariously 
 to prison, and all joined in the fun, the solemn Abdoor 
 alone excepted. At last Mr. Barnett was summoned, but as 
 he could not pantomime and as they were shy of asking him, 
 he handed over his £1 without further ado, and the scene 
 ended with the beard of the tax-gatherer going off in a 
 flame, an Arab- Enghsh " Hurrah," and the holy communion 
 of common laughter. And all this while our boat, her sail 
 bellying out peacefully, pushed against the stream, with 
 the deep blue sky above, and the red, blue, yellow, violet, 
 maddening-coloured water below. 
 
 The rest of our New Year's iJay was spent in the great 
 temple of Karnak, of which Mr. Barnett' s letter to Miss 
 Paterson gives some impression. 
 
 LuxoB, January 2nd, 1880. — Mrs. Barnett wanted to write to 
 you to-night, but I did not let her, and I know you would not 
 wish her to do so. She has been out all day, sketching the 
 temple of Karnak, with her mind alive to all its voices and 
 wonders, and if she were to write to-night, I know she would 
 not sleep. Meeting here other Enghsh, we find how fortunate 
 we are in Ali, our crew and boat. In some boats there has been 
 
236 THE TEMPLE OF KARNAK 
 
 such rolling that pianos and old ladies have pursued one another 
 across the cabin floors. We have never been more than six 
 inches out of the level. 
 
 1 wish 1 could 1<?11 you more about the temple of Karuak. I 
 daresay you have some general idea of the Hall of Pillars, of 
 its vastness, of the work which its erection implies. I daresay 
 you know it is the biggest temple in the world. Still, all you 
 know won't teach you in the least what it is. Amid the mass 
 of ruin, in the midst of which pylons, obelisks, and pillars rise, 
 one's mind is tossed from sensation to sensation tUl it is quite 
 confused. Half angry, half hopeless, half dazzled, one passes 
 on till suddenly he stands in the great hall. Is it temple, is it 
 hall, was it built for worsliip or for work ? 
 
 Perhaps in one sense it is not fair to say that any great build- 
 ing is not rehgious. I mean, that in the highest sense the Town 
 ilall must express the religion of the nation as the Cathedral 
 does. Still, there is a difference ; in the one the aim is to inspire 
 the emotions we call religious, in the other the emotions inspire 
 the aims to build a fit building. Vv'ell, I think the hall at Karnak 
 falls under the second head ; it does not appeal to me as a 
 temple, it does not help or flow from the emotions which make 
 men pray and praise, i.e. depend and aspire. It is, though, 
 inspired by grand thoughts. 
 
 As one stands amid pillars dwarfing all subsequent efforts, 
 gets a ghmpse of size rivalling the might of nature, and sugges- 
 tions of brilliant colouring, one feels how the men who built this 
 hall were Titans who in their own strength did mighty things. 
 They believed in themselves, they were thorough in their works, 
 they believed men's work could stand and endure. So their 
 hall, built for whatever object, is now really a temple of humanity. 
 A temple for us men who doubt of ourselves and of our race, 
 who trust in shams and compromises. We shall spend some 
 more days beneath its shadow on our return. Perhaps then 
 I shall tell you more. 
 
 This promise was fulfilled by the following letter : 
 
 LuxoE, February 16th, 1880. — Of the building I have told you 
 all I can. Yesterday it seemed even more impressive. It was 
 filled by a very choir of birds. They sang, they flitted from 
 crevice to crevice, they took up in a higher key the note which 
 the temple had been built to sound. They seemed to unite 
 the place with nature Avhich of itself it would have defied, and 
 to give a gladness to the old worship to wliich it was itself 
 foreign. I could have wandered for longer amid the shadows of 
 the giant pillars, looking down avenues which had no end, and 
 therefore had the greatest end, and listening to the birds which 
 having no words had the greatest meaning. 
 
SKETCHING AND SLAVERY 237 
 
 It was all too much. Enough to make us say, not knowing 
 what we said, " It is good to be here," or to make us hide 
 ourselves and refuse to look at all. Well, we have left it, and 
 let us hope it may never leave us. To-day its memory is 
 fresh. 
 
 There were but few matters on which my husband's 
 mother felt pride, but she was proud of the ancestor who 
 sacrificed his wealth because of his strong feeling of the 
 wrong of slavery. Knowing this, her son gently teased her. 
 
 LuxoE, January 26th, 1880. — After luncheon with the hot 
 coffee Ali makes so well, out come the sketching things. The 
 rug is spread, cigarettes are handed round. One man stands 
 silently behind each artist, keeping off the flies, another holds 
 the umbrella, a third keeps small Arabs from interrupting the 
 vision, a fourth is ready to fetch water, oranges, etc. I lie 
 stretched at the sketcher's feet, with open book from which 
 I read quietly or aloud, or over which I lazily dream that slavery 
 may not be a bad institution when it relieves me of so much. 
 In other lands / should have to keep off flies, hold the umbrella, 
 fetch water, do everything. 
 
 Sketching over, we again mount our donkeys and again we 
 canter over the plain. This time perhaps more slowly, for 
 behind the desert hills, over the gorgeous plain, and amid the 
 water shallows, the sun throws light and colours no one could 
 ever imagine. Too gorgeous for paint, too tender for words. 
 Every evening it is different, and every evening it is like some 
 great harmony, an oratorio of God Who has done such mighty 
 things and created men. 
 
 The next extracts from Mr. Barnett's letters tell their 
 own story : 
 
 December llth, 1879. — If Spencer is writing another book, I 
 think it must be one on cookery. His chief concern is with 
 diet, and modes of cooking, with special reference to his own 
 stomach. His trouble to-day has been the size of the coffee 
 grounds. He thinks the smallness is due to the "barbarous" 
 custom of using a pestle and mortar. He gave illustrations 
 and examples. Each sentence had three divisions. Unfortu- 
 nately all collapsed under the stern fact that they don't use 
 the pestle and mortar but an ordinary machine. Poor old 
 man, he often makes us laugh ! 
 
 As the days went on, Mr. Spencer became more and more 
 difficult. Unless he was being actually amused, he was 
 lugubrious, while to the fellow-travellers who steered their 
 dahabeehs near to the bank we happened to be Ijding under. 
 
238 ME. HERBERT SPENCER LEAVES US AND RETURNS 
 
 his manner was cold and ungenial. His moods were many 
 and so variable that no tact could anticipate nor guard 
 against the incidents which upset him, while his uncertainty 
 of temper could only be explained, in one who was naturally 
 courteous, by nervous derangement. 
 
 December 26th, 1879. — Spencer foimd he had to leave us. We 
 remained at Siout all yesterday waiting for news of him from 
 Cairo. Poor old fellow, he has been, as I have told you, de- 
 pressed. He told me on Tuesday nervousness was getting so 
 powerful over him that he felt he must return. Evidently the 
 absence of those excitements which belong to a gossiping circle, 
 and our indisposition to pay much heed to his theories, tries 
 him. He felt his own self too much, and even for him his self 
 did not prove sufficient. 
 
 To get to Siout in time for the train we had to sail nearly all 
 night. We did not go to bed and the moon was brilliant. The 
 sailors rose to our call, and though they were numbed by the 
 cold, they drank coffee, and worked cheerfully. We saw Spencer 
 off. We are a little sad at this break in our circle, though 
 neither of us can pretend love for him. We felt pity for the 
 lonely, imloved, and unloving old man. A Casaubon without 
 even a Dorothea. 
 
 For twelve days we greatly enjoyed the freedom from the 
 responsibihty entailed by the presence of our fellow-traveller, 
 and then he returned. 
 
 LuxOE, January 4:th, 1880. — Yesterday afternoon a telegram 
 came from Spencer saying he was going to join us again. We 
 are sorry. We were sorry the poor old philosopher was ill and 
 had to leave us, but having gone and left us on our way, we 
 wish he had not returned again. However, I daresay it will 
 come all right. 
 
 LtrxOB, Jamiary Gth, 1880. — Spencer has arrived back. Queer 
 old gentleman. We find that, feeling better, he thought he 
 would follow us. He telegraphed to Sir Philip Miles to bring 
 him up. The telegram missed, and there the old man was at 
 Siout, no hotel, no friend, no language, no temper. Marius 
 among the ruins of Carthage'^has now a companion picture. 
 Herbert Spencer amid triumphant primitive races. How he 
 must have gesticulated, how the Arabs' must have jabbered! 
 Ha^ipily anotlier dahabeeh party arrived ; with consummate 
 pluck (?) Spencer offered himself as their guest. He has now 
 been ten days with them and arrived to-day. 
 
 Mr. Spencer was delighted to return to us, and showed his 
 pleasure in touching ways ; amongst others, not only joining 
 
AT PHILAE 239 
 
 the circle of those who cared to Usten to readmg, but himself 
 reading aloud, and I find it recorded in my diary — " Mr. 
 Spencer read SheUey with much gentleness and feeUng." 
 The people who had brought him up in their boat so hos- 
 pitably were not congenial to him, and strange tales sUpped 
 out at unguarded moments about betting, drinking, gaming, 
 and sport, in the midst of which it required no stretch of 
 imagination to picture Mr. Spencer with his dour ways, 
 studied utterances, and uncompromising morahty, remaining 
 as always a gentleman, but, for those ten days, a very un- 
 comfortable one. 
 
 After leaving Karnak we gently sailed southwards, each 
 day with a fresh interest, until we reached Philae. 
 
 We are indeed at Philae, near, as Miss Martineau says, the 
 holiest of Holy Islands, but we might be at the Clifton Zoo. 
 The noise of rockets startle me as I write and the flare of blue 
 lights is in our eyes. The fact is there are many river neigh- 
 bours, tourists, and English is the ascendant language. Our 
 neighbours would add to their sensations and so they are letting 
 off fireworks. We think you would like to know this, as it 
 will make you feel how much in the world we are, but by the 
 time you receive this we shall be on our way back. We often 
 talk of getting home to you at Clifton, and giving you what we 
 can of om- Nile trip. 
 
 As the Cataract no longer exists, the letter describing its 
 ascent is of special interest. 
 
 Phelae, January I8th, 1880. — If I were to \vrite a volume I 
 coiild not say even half that which is hi my mind. On Sunday 
 I wrote to you from Assouan and since then we have passed 
 up the Cataract. The descriptions you have read I cannot, of 
 coiirse, improve on, but oh ! how insignificant, how poor they 
 seem to us who have just experienced the reality. A new crew 
 came on board with young Nubians who were captains. One 
 who had a black surplice and a yellow kerchief about his turban 
 seemed to be chief. Our sail filled and soon we found ourselves 
 amid the rocky islands of the Cataract. We steered against 
 the current towards a j)ool under the rush. All was going well ; 
 suddenly there came a snap, down came the little sail and bump 
 came the boat on a sand-bank. Now began a din which for 
 some hours did not cease. Men swarmed on board and on the 
 bank. Everyone gave orders. The black surphce being dis- 
 carded disclosed a httle figure in drawers and " shimmy." 
 Above the din he raised his voice by dint of turning his whole 
 
240 ASCENT OF THE CATARACT 
 
 being into a voice. He would crouch as if to fly and would seem 
 as if he would follow the sounds of his mouth. 
 
 Then the men on the bank formed the strangest crew ; some 
 were naked, some were clad in stately garments, some in rags. 
 Through gate after gate of rocks, up hill after hill of water, we 
 were dragged by these men. The excitement, the gestures were 
 extraordinary. Perhaps the grandest moment was one when, 
 having been dragged up a slope, the noise ceased while the great 
 sail was loosed. For a moment the boat seemed to halt, she 
 struggled as with a temptation, gathered force, and then majes- 
 tically moved onwards into still waters. Our old Rais was by 
 our side, he was quivering with feeling up to his fingertips, and 
 when by some mishap the boat touched land he rushed down 
 literally wringing his hands aloft. 
 
 It was very interesting. My wife entered fully into the 
 excitement^ her spirit joined with the spirit of daring which the 
 excitement of the men and the majesty of the ship produced. 
 The medley of voices, the mingling of figures, the play with 
 danger, as men, water, and wind worked together, roused her 
 strangely, but poor Spencer was simply bothered. " Did you 
 ever see such bungling ? Why don't they go that way ? Why 
 don't they hold their tongues ? Why is there not one master ? " 
 The scene had no power to excite or interest him ; ideas can only 
 enter into him by one avenue, the narrow avenue of his creed. 
 He saw therefore in the scene, where artists would have seen 
 revelations of form and colour, only another example of the 
 ignorance of primitive races. 
 
 Later we walked into Philae, a long walk, for the first hour 
 a scramble over rocks, pools, watercourses, granite debris, 
 and deep loose sand. We were followed by some twenty or 
 thirty impish boys. Mr. Spencer got furious, and it was 
 not the least of the curious sights of the day to see him, ^vith 
 coat tails flying, and umbrella lifted, scramble like a cat 
 over the rocks after the boys, shouting : 
 
 " Confound you, Impsi, I say." 
 
 Indeed our distinguished fellow-traveller's treatment of 
 the natives kept Mr. Barnett very anxious, for it was such 
 that at any moment he might have got into trouble. 
 He allowed his annoyance Avith the people'' to'^ increase 
 until it gi-ew into fear. He only learnt a 'few words of 
 Arabic, and those were words of refusal, banishment, or 
 contempt, which he frequently used with provocative 
 brandishments of his sturdjr umbrella. When we found 
 how much this attitude was due to nervous illness we were 
 sorry, yet at the time it was difficult and vexing. 
 
 One such incident is described : 
 
FRIENDLY TEASING 241 
 
 We rode across the desert to Assouan and Itmched in the open 
 air. Spencer was in full force. Ali had engaged donlieys for 
 us on the other side of the river. As we crossed in the boat 
 Spencer sat silent, but when we neared the shore he showed 
 signs of agitation. The boat touched and he made a furious 
 rush, treading on Kate, and pushing aside the sailors to make 
 an onslaught on a boy on the bank. 
 
 " Be off," he shouted, " we don't want you." 
 
 " Hullo, IVIr. Spencer," I said, " don't. He is one of our 
 donkey boys." 
 
 So we got him off the lad, the sailors being astonished. At 
 the top of the bank the donkeys waited. 
 
 " Those donkeys," said he, " they are too small. I shall 
 walk," and out into the desert he walked. All alone, he lost 
 himself, and by an equal accident found himself. Perhaps in 
 that big life's desert into which by the same fault he has taken 
 himself, and where he is now lost, something which he will call 
 " chance," and we a bigger name, will find him and bring him 
 home. He is verily a philosopher in a desert. 
 
 At Philae Mr. Spencer again became ill, and suffered so 
 much that, as Cook's steamboat had Professor Sayce on 
 board, it was decided that our fellow-traveller should return 
 with him to Cairo, doctors, and civilisation. It was better so, 
 for as Mr. Barnett put it in one of his earKer letters' : 
 
 I have not yet got peace enough to enter into the speaking 
 peace around me. I am too anxious about my wife's health, 
 and too irritated with Spencer. 
 
 Philae, January \lih, 1880. — Spencer is packing up to go, 
 and my wife is teasing him. He has strong views about the 
 need of women's subjection, so she has just " drawn him " by 
 pulling me off my chair, rufHing my hair ! calling me names, 
 and drawing attention to the fact that for the first time in my 
 life I have not given up my pen at her demand. He has held 
 forth in long sentences involving an equal amount of platitude 
 and prosiness. 
 
 Sometimes Miss Margaret's chaff and teasing brought 
 Mr. Spencer genuine amiisement and pleasure, but they were 
 not always successful. I remember on one occasion after 
 we had received a wearying discourse on the necessary sub- 
 servience of art to use, the men were sent on shore to pick 
 every sort of prickly vegetation, with which during his 
 afternoon's rest we profusely decorated the saloon and its 
 furniture, leaving nothing but a hard divan by a draughty 
 window to sit on. We planned that Miss Margaret should 
 
242 MR. HERBERT SPENCER'S ATHLETICS 
 
 receive Mr. Spencer, and that as we assembled for tea, we 
 should come in one by one and warmly congratulate her on 
 the beauty and originality of her scheme of decoration. 
 My husband was a bad actor and the philosopher bore his 
 feeble comments serenely, but when they were followed by 
 my enthusiastic admiration, and Kate's warm sisterly 
 appreciation, and when, the chairs being occupied, we all 
 had to sit close together on the divan, Mr. Spencer became 
 very angry, and scolded us all at great length for not having 
 understood his previous lecture, whereby we were kept 
 indoors, prevented from seeing the golden sunset, and after 
 aU he never saw the joke. 
 
 It was a tribute to the previous tourists on the Nile that 
 when our boat was moored near a village, the people came 
 or brought their sick children for advice. To these poor 
 creatures Kate and I would offer simple remedies, bathe bad 
 eyes, and explain, with Ali as interpreter, the common laws 
 relating to wounds and cleanKness. It is true they were 
 often repulsive, but their pitiable condition only annoyed 
 Mr. Spencer, from whom we had to conceal our ministrations. 
 He seemed to think that to increase the health or preserve 
 the life of anyone who was " barbarous " was not worth 
 while. 
 
 His last day at Philae was spent in athletic effort. At 
 breakfast he said some huge stones, which seemed just 
 balanced on the summit of the rock, ought to be pushed 
 over and that he wished to do it. So a group of sailors was 
 selected, who, with the two Miss Potters, accompanied him 
 to perform this extraordinary duty. They toiled up the 
 rock in the heat, but on arrival found the boulders firmly 
 wedged in their places. But Mr. Spencer was determined 
 to upset them and formed a queue of sailors to hold him 
 and each other, he selecting the most dangerous spot. 
 What a comic picture ! The tall, lean, elderly man in black 
 clothes, his long coat tails held by an Arab, pushing a rock 
 in order to hear the splash of its fall, and dividing his 
 strength between scolding Miss Margaret, who laughed, and 
 shouting at the Arabs, who in their fear that he would go 
 over when the rock gave way, held him so tightly that he 
 could not push with effect. 
 
 Perhaps aU this sounds rather severe and as if poor'Mr. 
 Spencer had had'no pleasure in the tour, and that we had 
 not been good to him. But this Avas not the case. Miss 
 Kate Potter was unfaiUngly kind and patient with hin;, 
 
MR. HERBERT SPENCER IN WHITECHAPEL 243 
 
 and Miss Margaret, who was both witty and audacious, 
 teased him ruthlessly to his great dehght. To my husband 
 he was truly grateful, and I annoyed him so much that he 
 hked being with me. 
 
 " Good-bye, Mrs. Barnett," he said as he chmbed down 
 the steps of the dahabeeh into^the small boat which was to 
 take him ashore. 
 
 " Good-bye, you are the most irrational woman I ever 
 met," a conveniently simple generaUsation of all that he did 
 not understand in my unconventional mental attitude. This 
 unique farewell was dehghtful to us then, and as a memory. 
 
 On our return to Whitechapel he cared to come and see 
 us, and we introduced him to our neighbours, and to some 
 scientific men, neither of which efforts were quite successful, 
 as he considered the first " barbarians" and refused to hear 
 from the second of progressive knowledge ; but to us he 
 always remained in kindly relations. Indeed his intimate 
 friends said that he was so attached to Mr. Barnett that, 
 had he asked him, the philosopher would have sung in the 
 choir, a test of his fealty which, however, was never 
 demanded. I 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 EGYPT 
 
 " I get more and more a believer in the value of holidays in life, and of the 
 waxj in which they are loasted. A man in fad is ivhat his holidays make him." 
 
 After Mr. Spencer left us, we continued our journey 
 towards the second Cataract. Of these peaceful days Mr. 
 Barnett's daily letters spoke with genuine pleasure : 
 
 Nubia, January 21st, 1880. — There is no wind, the Nile like 
 a mirror reflects the hills and burning sand. The air is full of 
 the sounds of the sakias which are pumping up the water for 
 the land. At last the weather is really warm, and it is luxury 
 to lie on the couches under the awning. 
 
 We hke these quiet days. There is enough to do in 
 watching all that the hght does for the scenery. If the men 
 were not so busy pulliag us I should hke it better. Nine of 
 them are at present yoked, going one mile an hour, on the 
 slope of a bank hke a railway cutting, and which forms the 
 cultivated land of Nubia. The bank here is planted with 
 lupins, the seed of which they eat. Now and then there is a 
 plot of castor-oil plants. Right up to the edge comes the 
 yellow sand of the desert. 
 
 The " Hedwig," Sunday, January 25th, 1880. — It is our last 
 day's sailing. A fair and gentle wind is carrying us on to Wadi- 
 Halfah. We shall be there, Ali says, at twelve o'clock. It is 
 pleasant when epochs thus come on Sundays. We try to mark 
 them outwardly by putting on best clothes, by making Ah dress 
 in white, and by some special reading, but it is nice when 
 something to remember happens on them. 
 
 To-day we shall como to the end of our journey. We shall 
 look right on mto Africa, towards the mystery of its moimtains 
 and lakes ; we shall see the waters of the Nile fading into its 
 distance. To stand before such a view ■will fix the Simday of 
 our wedding week in our minds. 
 
 Then we shall turn round, the boat's great sail will be taken 
 down and every minute will bring us nearer to you. 
 
 244 
 
THE SECOND CATARACT 245 
 
 My husband's love for his mother was ahnost the biggest 
 thing in his life, but even I, knowing and rejoicing in it, had 
 hardly reaUsed what pain this absence would cost him, nor 
 how he longed to share all his pleasures and interests with 
 her. ; 
 
 Philae, January 2,2nd, 1880. — VVe are^alwayis wondering how 
 we shall tell you of our strange life here. My wife sketches away, 
 hoping at any rate that you will like the sketches and see some- 
 thing of what we see. When we sit together before some strik- 
 ing view, we shut our eyes and analyse our sensations, hoping to 
 discover some means of describing photographs and specimens 
 of dresses to make you understand. What a time we shall have 
 in talking and showing our curiosities ! You shall give another 
 " At Home," and if at the end of your invitation you say you 
 are going to introduce your Egyptian son and daughter, even 
 you won't say " no one will come." . . . 
 
 It is no trouble writing, in fact I like it for many reasons. Don't 
 think therefore you are doing nothing, you are doing a good 
 big part to make me enjoy our hohday, but it is painful to 
 think that in this pleasant summer's heat you have cold and 
 ice. . . 
 
 As we were driEting on we heard a shout from the bank as 
 to whether we would hke a telegram. We asked the name, it 
 sounded hke Baron. This was enough to excite us, so we both 
 started with Ah in the small boat. We were soon reheved to 
 find there was no news for us. The sense of distance often 
 comes over me and has to be put away. It was a strange sight 
 to come upon the lonely stone hut telegraph station in the 
 solemn desert, and to feel that it was linked by a continuous 
 wire with all the bustle of London. The world isone, and town 
 and desert are linked by seen and unseen bonds. 
 
 Mr. Barnett's letter on our last walk before we turned 
 again northward is characteristic ; 
 
 Nubia, January 27th, 1880. — Our visit to the second Cataract 
 mountains we should have been sorry to have missed. We were 
 able to climb to the top. There was much in the view, there 
 was more in our thoughts to make the moment memorable. . . 
 The Nile has now for us a kind of hfe, it seems hke an old friend. 
 Its bkth, its struggle with obstacles, its progress on to hght 
 awaken our deeper interest. . . As yet we know we have not 
 learnt to understand the desert, but we never see it with- 
 out resenting the talk that condemns it as " barren." The 
 desert has borne fruit in some of the best thought of the world. 
 In the desert men have learnt and can learn of the deeper 
 things of life. It will be a good thing when some of the leaders, 
 pohticians, poets, and painters are sent to school in the desert. 
 
246 RIDES IN THE DESERT 
 
 ... I don't quite know why it is so striking ; perhaps it appeals 
 to that side of human nature which is grim, which rejoices in 
 ruin, which would strip oli' aJl covering to face fearful reality. 
 ... It appeals to us too by its silence, giving one a greater 
 sense of personahty than one has elsewhere. In the desert one 
 is an atom it may be, but stUl an atom in a great chain of things. 
 I t hin k I should like to be utterly alone there ; I daresay I 
 should not enjoy it, but at any rate 1 can imagine why Moses 
 and Ehjah went there. 
 
 We two trotted along in the silence with our men behind. 
 It is not for such as us to be apt pupils in such a school, but we 
 hope something^of its atmosphere may cling around us. To- 
 day is a lovely day and I see Ah crossing the river. If he has 
 your letters we shall be off. 
 
 The next letter teUs how our graceful " Hedmg " had shed 
 her great white wings and assumed the appearance of a huge 
 Oxford barge, with the addition of many oars ; 
 
 Aboo Simbel, January SOth, 1880. — Motion is no longer the 
 beautiful experience it has been. At Wadi-Halfah we took 
 down the big yard — 100 feet long, ten feet longer than the boat 
 ■ — and rolled up the big sail. Pits have been opened in the 
 deck, in which the sailors stand, and oars have been fitted. The 
 men give three strokes in one. Each stands and gives one pull, 
 a further one as he sits, and a third by dragging his arms down. 
 All is done without taking his oars out of the water. A kind of 
 dramatic performance goes on to keep up time and courage. 
 The work is not hard, because it is not continuous. The most 
 of the time we drift and the boat turns round as in a waltz. 
 The question of the day is, " Which way are we going ? " It is 
 not pleasant and tends to giddiness. 
 
 No ! it certainly was not " pleasant," and as the seasonal 
 wind was strong, being from the north, and always against 
 us, my husband, who was a bad sailor, often had long periods 
 of discomfort, only relieved by the interest of our frequent 
 land excursions. 
 
 February 6th, 1880. — The temple at Aboo Simbel cannot fail 
 to impress any man, it is so very human in its grandeur. Let 
 me try and tell you of it. Fancy the rock at the sea-wall at 
 Clifton as it was when it faced down the river. Suppose some 
 King of Britain 4,000 years ago had cut in this rock a smooth, 
 level face reaching up more than a third of the rock's height. 
 Then on this face had carved four great sitting figures, more 
 ihan sixty feet high, to sit before a temple he had hollowed 
 out in the rock. If you can imagine this you can imagine 
 something of the first appearance of Aboo Simbel. 
 
THE TEMPLE AT ABOO SIMBEL 247 
 
 It is impressive, first as a bit of natural beauty. Tlie great 
 human figures have their own relation to the moimtains above, 
 to the river beneath, and to the desert around. The spectator 
 does not say "what big figiu-es " ; they are not remarkable 
 simply for their size, but because they exactly fit their sur- 
 roundings. The whole view becomes a picture illustrating what 
 men and Natiu-e have to do with one another. They are equal 
 powers Ln the world, and should meet equally. They take one 
 from another, and serve one another. It is not for the man to 
 look either mean or putted up before -Nature ; it is not for her 
 to overwhelm man as if he were a speck in a sand-storm. At 
 Aboo Simbel we look and learn what is our place with the rest 
 of God's creation. 
 
 The figures are impressive on account of their historical 
 associations. Year after year leaders of the world have come 
 to their feet — Greeks, Romans, i'rench, and Enghsh. We think 
 of the vast chain of the world's history, of the men who have 
 made the history ; like Moses when covered by God's hands 
 we see the " back part " of God, the one guiding purpose which 
 has bound together forces so different, passions and purposes 
 so diverse to make one divine event. At Aboo ISimbel through 
 the eyes of the colossi we see the unity of history. If the slow 
 progress, if the irony of some old hopes m.ake us sad, we are 
 yet encouraged because we learn that all things are linked 
 together, that oui age has issues ni the far future. 
 
 in the faces, in the postures, of these figures we may realise 
 what the wisdom of the Egyptians thought ought to constitute 
 the life of man. According to them, man's life is calm ; he 
 should be unmoved by passions which would lead him either 
 to love or hate, unmoved either to save his friend or kill his 
 enemy. He should be calm in the serenity of his own greatness 
 and should be unmoved to worship anyone greater or seek 
 anything higher. Men should be as gods ; not gods as the 
 lotus eaters imagined, who loved pleasure and change, but 
 gods because of their power over men, over nature, and over 
 themselves. The true man is he who, resting secure in his own 
 place, has no fear, no wants, is calm. The thought of this foolish 
 strugghng crowd just draws his hp into a smile of half contempt 
 but has no power to disturb. 
 
 I think I might have told you more about the temple, but 
 just at that passage my wife, who is in splendid health, came 
 in and has been with me ever since. She has opened and shut 
 the windows, begun and ended three philosophical, two artistic, 
 and four moral discussions. She has also ruffled my hair, dragged 
 me back in my chair, and done something to my face which 
 seemed to be like a concentration of flies' feet on one spot. 
 My mind is somewhat distracted. Elies are the curse of Egypt. 
 They swarm and they have a loving, trustful way of settling oa 
 one. 
 
248 OUR SEVENTH WEDDING DAY 
 
 Then to this letter I added : " Dear mother, I only kissed 
 him, for he is such a dear ! " So his mother learnt no more 
 of that particular temple, but my own behef is she Hked 
 the end of the letter better than aU the rest put together, 
 for in spite of her son's seventy-five epistles, 1 did not find 
 she took the slightest interest in the opinions of the ancient 
 Egyptians, or made any inquiries about the latest dis- 
 coveries in the Forum, or questioned the grounds for 
 ascribing the work of old Florentine Masters to some other 
 artist, on aU of which subjects my husband wrote her 
 interesting treatises. 
 
 At Aboo Simbel we spent our wedding day, and its simple 
 celebration is described : 
 
 The captaia came with a wonderful speech, expressive of a 
 hope that he might take our children up the ISile. Ali brought 
 me his best robe, with which he clothed me and hoped I would 
 keep it in memory of him. Pharaoh adorned the table with 
 sweetmeats and flowers. The cook smpassed himself at dinner. 
 All was very nice and we felt as much at home as it is possible 
 to feel. Four other boats were at Aboo Simbel, so we had 
 some society, including the IMileses and Miss Lennox. It was a 
 real tropical day. The sun was brhhant, we rejoiced in loung- 
 ing and drinking water in the shade. 
 
 My wife invented a game which became fashionable. Between 
 the hiUs Uke a snow-drift is a slope of golden, soft sand. The 
 game was to chmb up — a half -hour's hard work — and then, hold- 
 ing each other tightly, tly down in five minutes with giant strides. 
 It was fine exercise. She induced Mrs. Miles to play it, and we 
 all fled down supported by sailors. It would have been difiicult 
 otherwise to get exercise, for our men would not let us walk 
 on the desert above for fear of a hyena said to be wandering 
 there. 
 
 To his brother, but recently married, Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 January '25th, 1880. — It is our seventh wedding day on 
 Wednesday ; may your seventh come as happily. Married life 
 has certainly a power of growing ; a proof, if one is wanted, 
 that it is the real life. 
 
 As we descended the Nile with the wearying monotony 
 of drifting, the nauseating motion of twisting rovmd and 
 round, and the unprincipled tossing of which only fiat- 
 bottomed boats are capable, we often landed to ride or walk, 
 and had some amusing experiences in our efforts to purchase 
 native handiwork. 
 
AT KALABSHEE 249 
 
 February ith, 1880.— The temple at Kalabshee was very ia- 
 teresting, and would have kept us long had not the natives 
 botliered so. You can't imagine such people. Very sparsely 
 clothed, very ugly and recking of castor oil, they pressed round. 
 We took refuge in our boat. At once on the banlv they formed 
 a bazaar. ^^■.Now, fill the air with the wild shrieks, see the sun 
 glaring down on a field green with wheat, and you have the 
 surroundings. Along the top of the bank are some men, 
 crouching like wild beasts with spears and knives they tempt 
 us to buy. Below are women with hair in narrow oily plaits, 
 ears, nose, and fingers loaded with rings, arms, necks, and ankles 
 with jewellery. They sit still over baskets of henna, which 
 grows here and which our men buy. Every now and then hj 
 a sudden action a woman snatches off a ring, or a bracelet, and 
 gives it to an imp who comes and offers it to us. The water 
 therefore, between us and the bank, is crowded with naked 
 children and half -naked youths. They offer beads, jewellery, 
 everything for sale. Some silver beads, some characteristic 
 clothing is bought, then the noise becomes mibearable, and I 
 give the order to push off. 
 
 February 28th, 1880. — On Tuesday we came to a place near 
 which we heard there were some tombs. We stopped the boat, 
 and waited till three o'clock looking at the people who came 
 to look at us. Then we started with an escort of six local men. 
 Two wore flowing garments, which, though only rags, they 
 bore with dignity. One had an iron pike. " What's that 
 for?" "In case of danger." "What danger?" "Danger 
 of Bedouin Arabs." On we stalked across the lonely desert, a 
 good hour's march. Our position came upon us strangely. 
 Two insignificant people, with such a bodyguard, in such a 
 place. 
 
 DeKghtful was our excursion to Abydos, best told perhaps 
 in my letter to Miss Townsend : 
 
 Neae Abydos, February 20th, 1880. 
 Deae Friend, — Leave the vestry, shut your eyes from the blue waU, 
 semi-dusted pictures, and tattered girls, and come to Egypt. Hear ! 
 "Pharaoh" is at my door. "Six o'clock, Mees Bamett, you get up, 
 you not sleep back." No, no " sleep back," for we are to go to Abydos, 
 and the sun is already getting up. Breakfast over, we bravely face the 
 yelling, fighting mob around our donkeys on the bank — this is a bad 
 village which revolted five years ago, and to which English people can 
 only just go. Do you hear my umbrella thumping on the backs of the 
 imps who deafen me with " Baksheesh ? " and on the men who lay hands 
 on me ? Queer sound that, Mrs. Bamett beating Arabs ! Well, forget 
 that sound and the demoniacal voices, and come, foUow me into the wide 
 country. Com already in ear, miles of beans with their sweet scent, 
 fields of lentils and lupins shining in the sunlight. Beasts too in plenty, 
 buffaloes, camels, sheep, goats, donkeys all browsing together in concert 
 
 1—18 
 
250 EXCURSION TO ABYDOS 
 
 ■ — the big clumsy buffalo led by the six-years-old child, the cross snarling 
 camel held by the stately priestly Arab. 
 
 On we go. " Is your donkey good ? " Mine has a turban for a bridle and 
 no bit. Samuel's saddle has neither girths nor stirrups and he has already 
 rolled off on to the ground, for it is circus-like work this to balance yourself 
 on your saddle and the saddle on the donkey. What a sweet scent ! Is it 
 the beans ? and look at that boy standing on that mud pyramid sHnging 
 stones. " Ente kumumin kumumin," "servah baksheesh," and away he 
 slings a handful of black mud over the corn, and the tufted larks, white 
 ibis, crowds of sparrows, and pretty hoopoes rise and fly away. Oh ! no, 
 not away, only for twenty yards, for they have heard that sling crack 
 before. 
 
 Ten miles done. Are you tired ? If so, stop here on this raised dyke 
 and sketch the village with its mud huts, pretty pigeon-houses, clumps of 
 palms, and see ! that Egyptian wonder, a pond. Not tired ? well, get 
 on again then, for really these folk are rather too aggressive to sit amongst. 
 
 Abydos at last, three hours' steady riding. Oh ! how did you get through 
 that last village ? I got on very badly, quite forty people followed me, 
 and my donkey -boy went off somewhere and bridleless donkeys are difficult 
 to guide in a town. So my umbrella came into use again. Here is a rough 
 ground-plan to help you understand. 
 
 The dots stand for pillars, the squares for beautiful chambers each 
 dedicated to a different god. " It is quite impossible to extricate the 
 ideas from this confused labyrinth," so reads Mr. Bamett from Marriette's 
 guide-book. Then let us look at the pictures and enjoy them, their colour, 
 their drawing, their wonderful delicacy of execution. This lotus, there 
 is not a line in fault — and the tenderness of that haK-open bud. The sign 
 of life is here joined to the signs of power and stabihty held in the god's 
 hands outstretched to the king. What a gift ! Did you ever see such 
 gorgeous and delicate colouring as in that sacred barque and the animals ? 
 Certainly these old folk reverenced life whether in human or animal form, 
 and the animals seem joj'ful at being sacrificed to the gods. This buU 
 is running with quite a look of willingness to be offered. The young 
 Rameses has a nice face, and with what close companionship he lives with 
 his father ; reigning together meant mutual love in those days. I like 
 that old Setti. He had such a wide interest in things. He is not nearly so 
 prominent in this, his great temple, as Barneses is in his. Perhaps he 
 spoilt Rameses, and made him egotistical. More temples beyond. What 
 does Murray say ? " Oh ! nothing, they can't make it out," but this is the 
 temple where the list of kings was found, and here is the corridor. Walled 
 up well — that is good, for such a tablet is too precious to be exposed to the 
 scrawls of tourists or the ignorant greed of the Arabs. " Impshi, Ali, 
 impshi tout le monde." Whack, whack, a general scuttle, a cloud of dust, 
 and now begin again, friend. You can look at the old Egyptians without 
 the sight of the poor leprous creature, or that blind man to whom you can 
 do no possible good by your chance coppers or even your silver piastres. 
 See that goddess nursing the king. Divine motherhood again, and Setti 
 here kneels before Osiris. That is unusual ; Rameses, Amenophis, etc., have 
 always stood upright before the gods. How old a thought it is that the 
 gods guide, punish, and give life. Here Osiris and Ra both hold the 
 crook to guide, the flail to whip, the life to give or withhold. 
 
 Luncheon ! Ready for it ? Quite ? Well, now, sit on this rug, here is a 
 stone for your back. "Ali ! you old scoundrel ! what have you got ? " 
 " Me double scoundrel or halt ? " " What have you got ? " " Eggs, poulet, 
 
BUYING ANTIQUAS 251 
 
 jambon, beurre, fruits, caft5. Double or half ? " " Oh ! half, All, or pas 
 du tout." Well, let's begin. I am glad you have chosen a pretty painted 
 chamber for our dining-room ! Had enough luncheon ? then let us go and 
 paint. Will you do that avenue looking through the two halls of pillars 
 into a chamber ? and there is Mr. Barnett posed for his portrait, ('ome, 
 begin. He is not so graceful or so well coloured as the gods, but never 
 mmd, we laiow more about him." 
 
 "Time up." What, already ? Oh dear ! Good-bye, Abydos. Farewell, 
 tender pure temple. Now to face the natives and the sun and to enjoy 
 that lovely ride. " Antiquas ! antiquas ! " " Ah, buy antiquas for me. 
 I can't manage it." This plain is lovely, really lovely, just see how the 
 afternoon sun brings out those colours of the straw hut, and that baby 
 buffalo — pretty ugly thing, and the kids. Bah, baah, baaahh. " Oh ! 
 Ali, buy me a kid, three piastres." " What will I do with it ? Why ! 
 keep it in the backyard and play with it when I have time." " Nonsense ! 
 Ali, don't buy madam a kid," says the Vicar. "If you are ready, let us 
 walk now, shall we ? " Half way, that will make seven miles home. How 
 delicious in this air. Egypt is the very place to walk in. Sunset already 
 and we four miles from home. What an afterglow, pale blue-grey over 
 the mountains, crimson here fading into yellow which (greenless) fades 
 into blue, and this is the east. In the west yellow-orange, with soft 
 greens till the arch meets overhead, a perfect symphony of colours. Gone ! 
 and how dark. Don't tremble, dear friend. Take my arm. The donkeys 
 seem to get worse, but here comes a light. " Eh Ho Ayenah ! " It is 
 Hassain and " silly man " come to fetch the Howayas. Well, lanterns 
 are imdoubtedly helpf xil in the paths in Egypt at night, and then there is 
 the dahabdeh, dinner, and bed. 
 
 Now, here is Mary Prout and Louisa Skinner and Sarah Marshman 
 and Ellen Lidcombe aU waiting for places, and you have actually left them, 
 poor plaoeless girls, left them and been to Egypt for the enormous length 
 of time of almost ten minutes. 
 
 Your affectionate friend, Henrietta 0. Baknett. 
 
 Every opportunity was taken for learning about the 
 people, how the government affected them, and the influ- 
 ence of their reUgion, land-laws, and education, but it is 
 almost impossible to ascertain reUable information when 
 there is no common language. We spoke French to Ah, 
 but his translations of our questions to the people and 
 their repUes were not always trustworthy, so it was a special 
 pleasure when we came across those who knew. 
 
 We have had the good luck to meet Professor Robertson 
 Smith, who seems to have a charming character, full of strength, 
 moral purposes, and tenderness. He likes the Arabs — thinks 
 them far removed from degradation. Most of them can read, 
 many have minds stored with poetry and memories of a grand 
 past. History, he says, is their strong point. He holds, too, that 
 their religion has little influence. Few comparatively say their 
 prayers, though most beheve in God and a future life ; they 
 keep sober and are resigned, more from habit than from 
 obedience to the Koran. 
 
252 THE PYRAMIDS 
 
 After watching some potters repeating without deviation 
 the same patterns as seen in the tombs, my husband wrote : 
 
 Dvcemucr 2Glh, 1ST.). — The people seem luaable to exercise their 
 minds. Years ago they reached a certain stage, and at that 
 stage thej' stiU remain. I expect the best tiling which could be 
 done for these Arabs would be to publish cheap editions of old 
 J^jgyptian and Arab literature. It is absurd to send them 
 translations of jjluropean literature. Their development must 
 go on from the stage at which it stopped, and this would be 
 helped by familiarising them with the old literature. . . 
 
 With all the misery which Western people are fond of noticing 
 here and which is forced on their notice, 1 still deliberately think 
 that the people are happier and cleaner than ours. They are 
 certainly more honest and peaceable, though of course this 
 may be at the cost of those qualities which make our people 
 push and strive. They have not our divine discontent. 
 
 The letters concerning the last fortnight of our Hfe on the 
 " Hedwig " are dehghtful, full of the spirits of peace, irre- 
 sponsibility, and piety, but the weather was abnormally bad ; 
 rain, wind, fog, and thunder are all chronicled. On reaching 
 Cairo we were joined, to our great pleasure, by my sister and 
 Mr. Ernest Hart, and with them we saw the sights which 
 Mr. Barnett's Ulness had compelled us to miss. Of our 
 visit to the Pyramids Mr. Barnett wrote to his mother : 
 
 Caiko, March 1880. — There's not much need to describe the 
 Pyramids, but what struck me in seeing them was the pervading 
 evidence of their human source. They are high as hills, but 
 never for one moment can the thought be absent that men made 
 them. They had learnt the lesson of the desert, and their work 
 harmonises with the surroundings. Standing as they do they 
 add to the sense of motionless repose, of grandeur without effort, 
 which belong to the desert. They are far off from other buildings 
 as is the desert from all other land, and in their presence a man 
 thinks of his littleness and his greatness as he thinks in the 
 desert. In the strong sunlight their solemn grandeur, their 
 proud self-assertion, awe one, but in the moonlight they seem 
 to mingle with sky and ground. It seemed as if God hushed the 
 protest and made man's work His work. 
 
 I wonder if this will give you any idea of the humanity — weak 
 and strong — of the Pyramids, and what I felt on Friday which I 
 had never felt before. We took luncheon under the shadow of 
 the biggest at midday, not more than three feet wide, and then 
 we prepared to enter. The sheikh told two of his wild Arabs to 
 look after each of us, and supported by these strong arms we 
 entered the dark passage. Above and around was solid masonry, 
 
THE SPHINX 253 
 
 the blocks of. stone so joined that not oven a penknife could 
 be put between. The floor had become so slippery that without 
 Arabs it would be impossible to stand. Through the dark, 
 through the heat, down one hill, up another we crept, the 
 Arabs whispering, 
 
 "I good and strong: give me good baksheesh." 
 
 At last we came to the central chamber. A great room with 
 its black walls and empty coiSn in the middle. It was impres- 
 sive to stand in such a place, to wonder, as some think, whether 
 these passages were made to act as great telescopes for watch- 
 ing the stars, or only as hiding-places for the bodies of the dead. 
 No one can understand the Pyramids, but they are at any rate 
 monuments of human effort, and we who crawled about the 
 passages could only feel ourselves to be very small children of 
 fathers who did such things. Finally we came back to light. 
 We had seen nothing but a dark passage, but we were both 
 glad we had been. Passages so made are something more 
 than mere passages. 
 
 Now we prepared to go up, a mighty effort to lift one's legs 
 up on about 200 dining-room tables and sideboards with no 
 banisters. Again the Arabs bore our weight, but even so it 
 was such exertion that Hart and Alice tiurned back. We 
 reached the top and for the last time saw the view over the 
 desert. 
 
 Then we turned to go down, facing the giddy height, and 
 again trusting to the men's arms. We arrived safely. I shall 
 never go up again. The ascent has given me an idea of the 
 greatness of the work, and the danger was a pleasant stimulus, 
 but there is neither view nor knowledge to be so got. 
 
 Ali gave us tea and we were off to see the Sphinx. 
 
 " What a shapeless mass," said we as we saw the rock in the 
 distance, but as we draw near the mass takes form, and soon 
 we see that terrible face which has fixed itseU on the world. 
 Hacked as it has been by destroyers, there is still to be felt 
 the smile which smiles contempt on destroyer and destruction ; 
 there is still be to realised the patience which waits and looks 
 without hope. 
 
 For the men of the present day who have little belief and no 
 enthusiasm, I can imagine the Sphinx having a powerful at- 
 traction, but for men of older days with faith and enthusiasm 
 I can imagine the irritation it produced and the desire to 
 destroy it. 
 
 Now the sun was setting, so we urged our donkeys up a mound, 
 and thence we saw the Ught making halos around the Pyramids, 
 catching them as with fire and at last sailing gorgeously from 
 sight. We waited watching the sleep ''which settled around, 
 the desert slowly yielding its colovu-s. I'had often wished to see 
 this, to see the passionless, effortless, reposeful desert go to sleep. 
 I saw it now, and it gave one a true type of a peaceful ending. 
 
254 VISIT TO ALI'S HOUSE 
 
 Cairo. — Yesterday Ali came and we finished our money 
 arrangements ; he behaved quite Hke a gentleman and Kke 
 himself. He brought my wife a bunch of roses and expressed 
 himself very prettily about his pleasure. It is quite an addi- 
 tion to our trip to have known such a dear old fellow. Later 
 we went to pay him a visit. We climbed up the dark stair to 
 find ourselves, alas ! in a large European room. Ali with 
 rising fortune aspired to be European, so he had a carpet hke 
 your drawing-room carpet, chairs, and wall-paper. When he 
 might have had divans and Persian rugs ! As we entered, 
 AUce was seized by a tall Arab woman and vigorously kissed. 
 
 She was mistaken for Y . When it was corrected Y 
 
 came in for another similar embrace. Then we sat round and 
 uttered Arabic words, laughed and waited. 
 
 A black slave appeared bearing a tray on her head covered 
 with a red and gold cloth. Ah bought this slave and another 
 in Nubia some years ago, he gave them their freedom, but with 
 admirable inconsistency gave one of them afterwards as a 
 marriage-gift to his daughter. The tray's burden proved to 
 be syrup which we all drank, then cigars, then oranges, then 
 coffee came. I took all so as to be polite, and because Hart 
 was by to cure indigestion. Happily none followed. We used 
 some more Arabic and then took our leave. 
 
 Ali has a romance about his marriage ; he is fond of telhng it. 
 Clearly polygamy will break down under the influence of homes 
 such as his. 
 
 From Cairo we went to Alexandria, whence we were 
 to sail to Europe. Miss Davenport Hill's cousins ^ had 
 invited us to stay with them. 
 
 Ramleh, ALBXANDELi, March 26th, 1880. — The " Hihs " 
 hem us in and support us on every side, and once more we are 
 under the shelter of one. We rode on our donkeys from the 
 Sudi Garber and went up the slope to the pretty house. It was 
 like home to be welcomed on the steps by cheery voices and to 
 be ushered into a room full of oriental treasures and English 
 taste. The Scotts are both nice and have nice children. He 
 is Judge in the Court of Final Appeal and is also The Times 
 correspondent. He devoted the afternoon to us and drove us 
 about the sights of Alexandria. 
 
 In the evening our hosts had a pleasant dinner party to meet 
 us. Most of the guests invited us to visit them, but we had to 
 refuse. Hurrah for English hospitality, not a Frenchman has 
 asked us. Next da^' RowseU met us at limcheon. He is an 
 honest man full of fun. He amused me vastly and seems to 
 have original views on Egyptian business. 
 
 I liked coming across the official set, but I still contend, 
 
 1 The late Sir John|ancl Lady Scott. 
 
JUDGE AND ]\IES. JOHN SCOTT 255 
 
 notwithstanding Scott's chaff, that civilisation in Egypt should 
 not be European. Egypt should be developed by the Egyptians. 
 As for the debt, there is really no money and I thinlt justice 
 would be done by repudiation. After luncheon we met Alice 
 and Ernest and got on board the " Achille "—Austrian Lloyd— 
 where we all have dehghtful cabins. 
 
 On leaving Alexandria we went first to Sm}rrna, and then 
 through the Greek Isles and the Dardanelles to Constan- 
 tinople ; from there to Greece, where we met Miss Octavia 
 Hill and Miss Yorke, and saw Athens, Corinth, Olympus, 
 and many more of the marvels and beauties of Greece. By 
 small and extraordinarily uncomfortable boats we visited 
 the Dalmatian coast, Corfu and the Ionian Islands, and 
 reached Brindisi safely. Both my sister and Mr. Hart 
 were capital travellers, and by their learning, kindness, and 
 enthusiasm added much to the knowledge and enjoyment 
 of our homeward journey. Mr. Barnett's daily letters to 
 his mother are, to quote the Rev. V. A. Boyle, " fascinating, 
 fuU of poetry, of thought, wit, humom-, and deep rehgious 
 faith, each bearing the impress of a mature and literary 
 style even when written hurriedly and on homely subjects," 
 but Europe is a much-traveUed continent and so aU these 
 letters are omitted. 
 
 My sister was iU at Athens, Mr. Barnett at Corfu, we were 
 wearied of travel and my husband was longing to get back 
 to his mother ; but Rome, Florence, and Milan could not 
 be missed and we saw them with intense pleasure. Indeed 
 it was our pleasure that was the parent of the idea of co- 
 operative educational travel. We were standing under 
 the great dome of St. Peter's confused with the multitude 
 of impressions, of the antiquity, the beauty, and the power 
 of Rome, when the realisation of Whitechapel, its ugliness, 
 smeUs, poverty, and degradation, overwhelmed me. Amid 
 it aU I saw our splendid body of workers — the teachers, 
 the students, the mission- women, the officials of aU sorts, 
 and the faithful few among the very poor, who stiU living 
 there were struggling to reach the light on the foundation 
 of self-respect. 
 
 " Let us have meetings through this next winter to tell 
 them aU about it," I said. " Then let us start them on 
 saving, and one day when they have got enough we will 
 bring them all out here to see Italy's wonders and be glad." 
 
 " What a good idea," said my husband, but he so often 
 said that when my fancy flew ; and yet it was he who 
 
256 CO-OPERATIVE EDUCATIONAL TRAVEL 
 
 cherished the thought, and it was his inspiration which 
 resulted in eighty-one people, over seventy of whom had 
 never been abroad, starting with us for Italy in April 1888, 
 after spending the winter evenings in studious preparation 
 for the tour. A small beginning which grew into the 
 " Toynbee Travellers' Club," and later into the Co-opera- 
 tive Travelling Society. In saying this I am quoting Sir 
 Henry Lunn, who in generously offering us free passages 
 on one of his delightful tours, refused thanks, saying he 
 owed his success to the example set by our first travelling 
 party. So do great things grow from small, and one is 
 thankful. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 We should remember more consciously their ideal selves — the Christ in 
 them." 
 
 On November 6th, 1880, my husband's mother died. There 
 was no illness, no suffering. She had spent the day as usual, 
 and had been to church and for a little drive. After dining 
 with her husband and Frank, she said she was thed and went 
 to bed early, and during the night her kind life ended in her 
 sleep. It was as she would have wished it to be. She 
 could not bear to give trouble. The shock to my husband 
 was overwhelming, for his devotion to his mother was great. 
 Every day he wrote to her, but she always destroyed the 
 letters, except when we were travelling. This is the last 
 one she received ; 
 
 Advbnt, November ith, 1880. 
 
 My dearest Mother, — It is this day year that we left you. 
 How fast the time has gone and yet how much has been done in 
 it. It was a bit hard to go, but the going was wise and I don't 
 regret it. We have more in us both of knowledge and of health. 
 
 Your new house must be almost Egyptian in tliese bright days. 
 Even here in Whitechapel, everything is full of Hght and beauty. 
 
 This morning I have been at a sermon ; we are gomg to make 
 the first Sundays somewhat special and I am trjdng to make 
 sermons more simple. Simple sermons, though, are not in my 
 line ; I have a clumsy way of sajdng my say and always think 
 people are content with the thought and won't care about its 
 
 dress. This afternoon I am giving to F and private business. 
 
 I prefer pubHo, I must say. 
 
 Yesterday after dinner we went to see the unveiling of the 
 portrait of Mr. Corkran.^ His scholars had subscribed for his 
 picture to hang in the schools, and they were all there dehghted 
 to have a memorial of the good old fellow. I made a speech. 
 
 I am glad you are going to All Saints'. They have a fine 
 subject and one on which most of us agree this week. To- 
 morrow we go to Imich at Greenwich to Lambert. I will try to 
 send up my shoes. 
 
 With dearest love, S. A. B. 
 
 ^ A Unitarian minister doing fine and unadvertisedworkin East London. 
 
 257 
 
258 DEATH OF HIS MOTHER 
 
 Many friends wrote, to express their sympathy, letters 
 which my husband kept among his sacred treasures, those 
 from Arnold Toynbee and C. S. Loch perhaps being speci- 
 ally valued. 
 
 OxroED Union, November 20th,, 1880. 
 
 Dbab Baknett, — I am afraid that this is a heavy blow to you indeed. 
 Your relations with your mother — from the little glimpses I caught of 
 them, and from the few words you have occasionally said upon the subject 
 — always impressed me as having that deep and sacred character which 
 stamps one's whole life, with — shall I say ? — inexhaustible possibilities 
 of love and hope. I have always attributed a great deal of what I love in 
 you to yom? mother's influence. I can only say how much I sympathise 
 with you iu this loss — how much I wish I could help you with something 
 better than words written painfully at a distance. 
 
 We could not think of asking you to come just now. We have put off 
 our Conference, perhaps till next term. Best love to your wife. 
 
 Ever yours afEeotionately, Arnold Toynbee. 
 
 Charity Organisation Office, 15, Buckinqham Street, 
 
 November Qth, 1880. 
 
 Dear Barnett, — I am so sorry to hear of the sad cause of your unex- 
 pected absence from Council yesterday. But I hope it is one more of those 
 deaths, to which, so far as the dying are concerned, we cannot attach 
 regret, though we feel the loss ourselves. To them it is going home and 
 taking their wages. To us it is sobering and sad to find those we used to 
 look to for support withdrawn by death to leave us in the forefront of the 
 race. 
 
 With very kind regards, yours truly, C. S. Loch. 
 
 At the end of two weeks we returned to Whitechapel and 
 work ; and then followed depression, so enwrapping that 
 it almost paralysed power. Through it all Mr. Barnett's 
 belief in personal immortality never failed, but faith seemed 
 ineffective to assuage pain and the wheels of life dragged 
 heavily. The wound was also kept open by his frequent 
 visits to Clifton, for his father, unloved, lonely, and losing 
 health, demanded his son's constant attention. Again and 
 again he would summon my husband, sometimes at the 
 shortest notice. Meekly ]\Ir. Barnett would leave his work 
 and engagements and travel to Clifton, only to find condi- 
 tions normal. As often as possible I went with him, but 
 frequently I had to stay behind and carry through his obliga- 
 tions, and sometimes his father would declare himself unfit 
 for the society of ladies and refuse to receive either of his 
 sons' wives. Poor old man ! We all four pitied him, but 
 little could be done. His one dominating fear was the 
 
HIS FATHER'S ILLNESS 259 
 
 cojidition of hia health. During those frequent visits my 
 husband wrote me many letters, always trying to see bright- 
 ness through the gloom, and those which show that cir- 
 cumstances had depressed him too much, he would not wish 
 to be remembered. He always blamed himself if his flame 
 of hope burnt dimly. 
 
 11, ViOTOKiA Sqitabb, Clifton, March 1883. 
 
 My dear Wife,— When I arrived the father had that hunted 
 look as if he had been pursued by demons of nervousness. I 
 thiak even the thought of my coming had been made into causes 
 for fear and grievance. . . I am alone while the father reads 
 The Times before dinner ; yet I am not alone, for you are with 
 me. My thoughts go to you and to the bright life you make 
 around you. Here life ever seems grey, and I am a grey man in 
 a grey world. . . Read the sixty-second psalm aloud to yourself. 
 We never find a Worship Hour reading equal to it. 
 
 May 1883. — Yesterday I found the father waiting for me. He 
 is tender and speaks with warmth of the doctor's kindness. He 
 does not tell me quite how ill he was, but he lives according to 
 Dobson's will, and faced dinner without eating any of the things 
 he should not, with as firm a will as yours. Frank seems very 
 well and full of life. He wishes you were here to understand a 
 joke, which no one else does ! . . . 
 
 Magnus '^ is the light of this home. I have just had a good 
 game with him. He shouts his orders, makes his uncle crawl 
 to play elephants and hide-and-seek. The latter game was fun. 
 When he had liid the marbles and I was seeker, if I said " Oh, 
 where are they ? " then he could not resist but shouted with 
 unrestrained excitement, " Here they are ! " . . . 
 
 The father does not seem so well this morning. I believe 
 indolence to be the central force of his character. I trace all 
 to it. God save me from indolence. I beheve it is fear of it 
 which makes me hold to work sometimes in a way which tires 
 you. . . 
 
 August \4ih, 1883.^ — Here I am spending the evening alone with 
 father. He is better than I expected — he is gentle and tender, 
 inclined to be depressed, but he talks much as usual. . . He won't 
 hear of my leaving to-mori-ow, but I think I shall if he is as well 
 as he is to-day. I will let you know by an early telegram. If 
 I have to stay, will you come ? You will decide and do what is 
 best for all things. . . Your sympathy reached me as I sat down 
 
 His eldest nephew, then a tiny child, who died at twelve years of age. 
 
260 DEATH OF HIS FATHER 
 
 in the carriage and I hoped sorrow would help me. He is just talk- 
 ing about you and seems to be glad at the thought of your coming. 
 
 October 1883. — Another day has come and I am one day nearer 
 you. How one gets more and more conscious of the Battle with 
 the Inevitable. I suppose as we follow Pilgrim we shall find how 
 he met it. Here am I bound to be away from you, here is the 
 poor old father bound to face growing weakness. He is not quite 
 so well this morning — at least he complains of breathlessness, 
 but I see it yields to any interest. 
 
 At Christmas the call on his devotion ceased, for his father 
 had an apoplectic stroke, and after days of unconsciousne&s 
 died on December 27th, 1883. My husband mourned for 
 him as dutiful men do mourn at the death of their parents, 
 missed him by the release of a great weight, but the loss 
 was not touched by grief, and indeed his work and plans had 
 been so seriously interrupted that to return to Whitechapel 
 and take up his responsibilities was an immediate duty. 
 For his mother he never ceased to grieve, mentioning her 
 in the delirium of his last illness, and November 6th was 
 always kept by us both with some evidence of reverence to 
 her memory. 
 
 St. Jitde's Vioabage, Whitechapel, November 6th, 1886. 
 
 My dbae Frank, — The date has come roimd to the same day 
 and I can't help thinking of the Saturday six years ago when we 
 hurried to Clifton. How fast the six years have passed and how 
 much has been done which she would have enjoyed, how much 
 too which she does condemn ! There is no thought more terrible 
 than that loving eyes see our secrets and know our hearts. 
 God help us to pull up. . . 
 
 Love for ever, S. A. B. 
 
 It was from his own experience in the valley of pam and 
 his journeys along the dull roads of patient watching, that 
 enabled Mr. Barnett's words to comfort others who grieved. 
 Some of his letters may help " those who mourn," and who 
 have not yet seen the blessmg behind it. The three following 
 were written to a man whose dearest one was dying of an 
 awful disease : 
 
 3 Little Cloisters, Wbstminstee, January 22nd, 1908. 
 My dear Friend, — All I can say is that my heart beats with 
 yours in your anxiety. We cannot help the cry " Let this cup 
 pass." There is no reason why we should not so cry. There is 
 
SYMPATHY WITH THE SORROWFUL 2G1 
 
 comfort in crying in company with one another and with our 
 Lord. My wife is not well to-day so I am not showing her your 
 letter. I will to-morrow, so that she may join her prayers to ours. 
 God help you. 
 
 I am, with love, yours, Saml. A. Barnett. 
 
 The Cloisters, June lUIi, lOOS, 
 
 My bear, dear Friend, — We often talk of you and I was just 
 about to -write when your letter came. Would we could help 
 and comfort you. The will — powerless though it be — is evidence 
 of the Will which is powerful, and so our poor words have behind 
 them the love of the Almighty whose cross has been the way to 
 glory. 
 
 I have told Mrs. Barnett of your letter, and j'ou can imagine 
 how her sympathy beats for you both. 
 
 Give your patient our deep love, and tell her we will praj^ as 
 she asks that she may feel herself still God's fellow-worker as 
 when full of life she went about St. Jude's shedding life around. 
 
 God bless you both. 
 
 Lovingly yours, S. A. B. 
 
 Westminster, June 14<?i, 1908. 
 
 My dear Friend, — I came from the Abbey, where I had been 
 thinking of her sharing the Lord's suffering, to find your telegram 
 telling us she is sharing His peace. Thank God. I know you 
 do even in your sorrow, and Death which seems to hide is also a 
 revealer, and to-day in a sense you know her better than ever. 
 
 How bright — how true — how keen at seeing good — how full of 
 joy and praise — how faithful — how simple ! We and you possess 
 her together, and through her we are nearer. Shall I come on 
 Wednesday ? I will of course if I can be of any comfort, but it 
 is a full day with us. Mrs. Barnett puts in " Let liim come to 
 us." Will you ? we shall be at the Cottage and you can be 
 very quiet among the trees and before the far view. 
 
 With our love, ever yours, Saml. A. Barnett. 
 
 P.S. — Yes, please come to us at the Cottage. We understand 
 and have been through it all. Only this morning I wrote to her, 
 having been much with her during last night. 
 
 Your fond friend, H. 0. Barnett. 
 
 Written to a man who mourned the loss of his brother : 
 
 January llth, 1903. — The news of your sorrow has reached 
 us. I did not know your brother, but I can imagine the sense 
 of loss which weighs on your family circle. 
 
 I would in quiet friendsliip take your hand and help you to 
 
262 WORK ASSUAGES PAIN 
 
 feel the brotherlineas which is left in the world. I would do so 
 quietly because words would seem impertinent as you commune 
 with the living memories of the dead. I would rather commend 
 you to those memories. There is comfort in the past even when 
 it forces tears, and mourners often make a mistake in trying to 
 forget. It is the love which has been which is the promise of the 
 love to be — it is the goodness which seems gone which is the 
 assurance of the goodness which is. May you — old friend — have 
 this comfort and meantime feel assured of the sympathy and 
 friendship of 
 
 Yours very faithfully, Saml. A. Baenett. 
 
 Written to a friend who had lost his small child during 
 the journey from India : 
 
 May 24:th, 1896. 
 
 My deae Ritchie, — ^We shall not easily forget the morning 
 we heard of Theo's death. The news broke up a memory and 
 a hope in which we had unconsciously rested. Darjeeling has 
 always been pleasant to think of because of the family circle we 
 were allowed to enter, and we had looked forward this year to 
 again enjoy your home. 
 
 The news that Theo was gone seemed to take something out 
 of our lives and we felt ourselves sorrowing with you. 
 
 What can I do ? What can I say ? I can only assure you of 
 friendship. We know together of the child whose beauty — 
 whose trusting love — whose lively interest — gave us a glimpse 
 into the Kingdom of Heaven. We beheve together that there 
 can be no lost good, that what has been shall be and that all our 
 love is treasure laid up in heaven. With this common knowledge 
 and this common belief let us offer you the comfort of ovx friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Let us do something together. You spoke in one of your letters 
 of taking some work in Whitechapel : let us do it now with Theo, 
 helped by her presence and inspired by her memory. It is hard 
 to say so now, but I think as years go on you will bless God more 
 and more for His gift of the child, and gratitude will be greater 
 than sorrow. She is in heaven, but we are on earth with earthly 
 duties to do — with earthly loves to enjoy. 
 
 May we all do and enjoy soberly and faithfully with the sense 
 of heaven about us. 
 
 I am, affectionately yours, S. A. Baenett. 
 
 To his brother Mr. Barnett wrote about the sorrow of a 
 friend who had been his fellow-worker since his early curate 
 days : 
 
SYMPATHY WITH INVALIDS 263 
 
 Harrow Cottage, Hampstead, April 12th,, 1884. 
 
 My deak Fbank, — Dear old Polj'blank has lost his wife, 
 and she is to be buried to-day. I am going down to Whitechapel 
 because many who love the man are coming to chui'ch to meet 
 him in liis sorrow. I shall return hero and spend to-morrow 
 morning in quiet repose with my wife. 
 
 The spring day with its birds and flowers will preach the 
 Easter message that there is no such thing as lost — no lost 
 good. Do you know Clough's poem " There is no Easter 
 Day" ? We sometimes forget what a blank there would be if 
 we had not learnt that good sown in dishonour must in the end 
 be raised. 
 
 Lovingly yoiurs for ever, Samuel A. Baenett. 
 
 Written to Sir William Markby, whose long and active 
 life was nearing the end : 
 
 St. Jxjde's Cottage, Hampstead, September Ith, 1912. 
 
 My dear, MY' VEEY DEA.B Feibnd, — It is good to know that 
 you feel the comfort of coming into God's presence with words. 
 Thank you for writing to me from your heart. We who have 
 learnt life's lesson of love come closer together as we say our 
 prayers to God the source of Love. We touch in our deepest 
 parts, we become more sure that nothing can separate us because 
 we are united by our common kinship to the love which never 
 fails. We know that we cannot be lost, that sin and death have 
 no dominion over us, that through Jesus Christ we belong to God. 
 
 Dear friend, pray on ; every prayer gives strength to faith, 
 and faith reveals what no voice can tell. Pray, thinking of the 
 love you have known, thinking of the love which takes form in 
 Jesus Christ, till you feel His peace, and rest in the knowledge 
 of the love of God. 
 
 Would indeed that I could come that we might talk together, 
 but for the present it is impossible. If I am to preserve longer 
 my life and cherish my little strength into greater strength, I 
 must go very quietly. A journey to Oxford — separation from 
 my doctor and nurse — ^the emotions of intimate talk- — are all out 
 of my reach. 
 
 I am indeed thankful that we are in communion and that in 
 prayer we may be together in God's presence. May you indeed 
 be blessed with that knowledge which is eternal life ! 
 
 I am, always afl:ectionately yours, Saml. A. Barnett. 
 
 Not only to those in sorrow was my husband's tender 
 strength helpful. His aid was often claimed by those in 
 difficulties, and the reason may be found in the following 
 words : 
 
264 WARNING AGAINST SECLUSION 
 
 1889. — In oxiT dealings with individuals, we should remember 
 more consciously their ideal selves — the Christ in them. . . 
 Few realise that in the individual there is a buried life, a life 
 M'hich can think and love, and that the only end worth achieving 
 is the release of this life from beneath its load of selfish, mean 
 cares. . . If we would remember the Christ which is in all men, 
 the memory would largely affect our dealings with them. Re- 
 spect for others implies taking them at God's valuation, and they 
 who see others as God sees them, speak of them and to them in a 
 different language. . . The self which aspires, loves, and thinks, 
 though it is hidden, is the real self of each one of us. 
 
 To a friend who, rich, cultivated, and liberal-hearted, 
 had yet allowed an indulgence in solitude to warp his life, 
 Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 I am sorry you are not going to join us at Advent, sorry 
 because I am certain that in cutting yourself off from men, you 
 are deprivmg yourself of the best training which God provides. 
 I can speak plainly. We learnt to know one another at the age 
 when friendsliips are formed. Both from what I know and hear, 
 I believe you are losing grace, and I think the cause is your self- 
 isolation. You isolate yourself, I know, from high reasons such 
 as those urged by Thomas k Kempis. I appreciate those 
 reasons. 
 
 On the other hand, there is a selfishness in lonehness. We soon 
 get to like it and we commune with the echoes of our own thoughts 
 and wills. Man was not made to be alone. Our Lord lived in 
 company, and the dangers of companj'' are no reasons for its 
 avoidance. . . We are here both to teach and to learn. The law 
 was given by Moses from the loneliness of the mount, the Gospel 
 came tltrough Jesus Christ from the centre of a company of 
 men. 
 
 All this means that you should reconsider your resolve to avoid 
 society. I ask you to do so, because I believe your own soul 
 needs that which God provides through the life of others. We are 
 all members one of another, depending on one another not only 
 for food but for teaching. There is terrible danger in society, 
 but it is out of danger that the best is won. 
 
 You still have it in j^our power to hold friends, and without 
 going into " Society " to know those who would help you. My 
 friendship you have plainly shown you do not care to keep. I 
 would however still be true to duty, and would use the right of 
 the past to warn you, lest you let other friendships go, which 
 may be more valuable. 
 
 There, I have delivered myself at some cost, and I would only 
 ask you to consider your life in the light of the gentle loving Ufe 
 of Christ. 
 
REBUKE TO THE IMPENITENT 265 
 
 The following letter was written to a young woman whom 
 in her need we had taken into our household during her 
 preparation for emigration. She had repaid us by rifling 
 the plate-chest, and was so scornful of her sin that she sent 
 us her photograph wearing some of my jewels. After she 
 had been told that we knew of her wrong-doing, she wrote 
 a letter that was both false and flippant, and to that my 
 husband replied : 
 
 Whitechapel, March 21th, 1884.— Your letter expected very 
 anxiously disappoints me. There can be no real repentance 
 when there is still a lie in your mouth. You have now confessed 
 to a theft which has put you in the power of the police, but you 
 have not yet told the truth. We know of other things that you 
 have stolen. I appeal to you to "WTrite and tell the truth. It is 
 for your own sake — it little matters about the jewels, for they now 
 can give us nothing but pain — it is for your self's sake you 
 should confess, and make such reparation as you can. Your self 
 is not the wretched, lying creature you now seem ; your self as 
 God made you is something good, and it is to your real self I urge 
 you to be true. Be true ; dare to tell me everything. 
 
 I am sending your money as you direct. Your conscience will 
 tell you how it should be used. Often and often are you ui our 
 thoughts, and our prayers may have reached you many times. 
 As the girl you write of who died on board, was buried, we were 
 kneeling in the dining-room overwhelmed by the discovery of 
 your guilt, and praying that God would break the hard, cold 
 crust about your heart to make you sorry and repentant. 
 
 Very deep was the pain we suffered as slowly the real 
 character of a girl in whom we had trusted revealed itself. 
 On this I wrote to Miss Paterson : 
 
 St. Jtjdb's Vioabaoe, Whitechapel, November 23rd, 1883. 
 
 Dbae Childie, — Thank you for your letter. A hundred times a day I 
 feel sick and weary, a hundred times a day I beg the Strength greater than 
 my weakness to compel her to repent, but repentance is often slow and in 
 a shallow person not sure. To-day the Vicar wrote, and I copied all the 
 five dreadful letters, and now for a while we will banish thoughts and plans 
 which had to be thought and planned for the sake of wise, right action. 
 
 The deed is done, and now we must wait and hope. 
 
 Mr. Bamett has had to go to Clifton and I may follow to-morrow, so 
 come very early please. 
 
 Yours, H. O. Babnett. 
 
 Last week I placed the whole correspondence into her 
 hands, and she wrote : 
 
 1—19 
 
266 STANDARDS FOR COMMUNICANTS 
 
 March 1st, 1916. — It especially strikes me, knowing and remem- 
 bering her trivial empty-headedness and conceit, that he should have written 
 to her as one capable of understanding his expectation of her. . . He did 
 indeed give his best to every one of us. Mabion Paterson. 
 
 Men who cannot do what the world calls big things, 
 initiate movements, organise societies, often busy themselves 
 with individuals faute de mieux, but Sir. Barnett held that 
 in personal relations lay the best work. Indeed, it was 
 this conviction growing in strength that caused him to 
 determine to make in 1892 — see chapter xxxviii — the 
 greatest renunciation of his life. 
 
 The following extracts from two of his letters to me will 
 illustrate his feeling : 
 
 April I8th, 1882. — I have had another day with individuals 
 
 and have fought the souls of Mr. and Mr. . I did not 
 
 do the latter well, but I think I touched him : we shall see. Per- 
 haps I ought to have told him that I had heard reports, I only 
 dwelt on what I had myself seen. Well, the kind of work made 
 me think of you because that's what you do with your girls, and 
 it is better work than public platforms. 
 
 December 1 1th, 1882. — The Communicants were really refreshing 
 to oneself. Distinctly I feel better for the meeting ■with human 
 
 souls. Mrs. G asked for an interview afterwards in which 
 
 she opened to me her anxieties of life. You would have been 
 
 struck by hearing her say she had left St. 's Church because 
 
 Mr. — — did not preach Christ as I did. His was a selfish rehgion 
 and did not make them think of others. I take this as a real 
 good sign, showing that some are getting to feel the bare rational- 
 ism of the ordinary Evangehcal. 
 
 People's acceptance of his standard for them often sur- 
 prised Mr. Barnett and rejoiced him by its humility. The 
 following letter was \vritten by an honoured father keeping 
 an honoured shop : 
 
 March Sth, 1878. 
 
 Deae Sir, — In reference to the Confirmation about to be held in the 
 district on Sunday next, my daughters returned last evening from your 
 Instruction Class under the full conviction of their unfitness to receive either 
 Confirmation or Communion according to your opinion. I therefore return 
 you the tickets. But as their father, and a communicant, I can say that 
 from their earliest time they have been brought strictly and religiously 
 to the Church, but as you have so instilled into their minds that their 
 whole time has not been spent to a good purpose, they have positively 
 declined to take upon themselves that which has been my desire. 
 
 I have a strong attachment to the parish in old family connections, 
 
RELATIONS WITH SINNERS 267 
 
 and I trust that by the time the next Confirmation is held, if I am spared 
 to see them, they may be found better fitted, under advice, to take upon 
 themselves the responsibility. 
 
 I am sorry it should have given you pain or anxiety. I can find your 
 wishes have seriously affected them both in mind and body. 
 
 Yours very faithfully, X. Y. Z. 
 
 For forty years friendly relations have been maintained 
 with that family, and as I admire their upright conduct I 
 wonder whether the Vicar demanded too much of them, or 
 whether the extreme step of delaying Confirmation caused 
 them to adopt a higher standard of dutiful industry. 
 
 Sometimes people found causes of personal offence where 
 only general terms were used. The following letter from a 
 prominent member of the staff is an example : 
 
 Dear Babnett, — If I am supposed to be one of the people you preached 
 against, who mdulge in bad tempers at Christmas time, I can only say I 
 am not in any such temper, and I believe the idea of learning in this way 
 gives me more pain than the temper can possibly give you, etc., etc. 
 
 With strong gentleness the Vicar dealt with such char- 
 acters, often decoying bad temper out of its fastnesses by 
 persistent refusal to allow that offence could be meant or 
 would be taken. 
 
 The depth of Mr. Barnett's relations with most people 
 with whom he had personal contact brought the painful 
 experience of beuig mixed up with no less than three causes 
 celebres. He had to give evidence in court to promote 
 justice, the incriminating correspondence having fallen 
 into our hands ; he had to break the news of his wife's faith- 
 lessness to a broken-hearted husband ; he had to tell of 
 another lady's past to an infatuated lover ; he had to deny 
 the helpful white-wash of an appearance on the Toynbee 
 platform ; he had to refuse his public support to a repentant 
 public sinner. It was very painful and often very puzzling, 
 and the bundles of correspondence — which will now be burnt 
 — bring back sad memories. Sometimes the letters were 
 drafted by him and corrected by me, or vice versa, but they 
 all show earnest desire to deal tenderly with the wrong-doer, 
 while upholding the noble standard of conduct that human 
 character demands. To deal with people face to face was 
 his unerring instinct, and very terrible were some of those 
 interviews. 
 
 " How could you tell him, or her, such things ? " I would 
 Bay, when he repeated what had taken place. 
 
268 BORDERLAND CASES 
 
 "I did," he would reply, — "remembering our old principle, 
 Hold a man by your right hand while you hit him with 
 your left, or, in other words, Show love to be stronger than 
 force." 
 
 But however he managed it, those he hit loved him. 
 He always spoke as if the wrong complained of was a cause 
 of sorrow to the wrong-doer, whereas most of us make the 
 latter feel as if their wrong action had annoyed us. 
 
 To the border-land cases and those slowly going mad, 
 both he and I always appeared especially attractive. There 
 was one dear old man in Whitechapel who always tramped 
 to Colney Hatch "when I feels it coming on, for there 
 I'se safe," he would explain. To many we were their Colney 
 Hatch. In early life we used to take them in, believing 
 that moral force and plain living could " calm thek fears " ; 
 but sad experience taught us that expert control and dis- 
 cipline were necessary to restore sanity — or, anyhow, that 
 to us an equivalent moral force had not been given. 
 
 Just as one sends for the doctor Avhen one is physically 
 deranged, his friends sent for Mr. Barnett Avhen they or 
 theu's were morally deranged. To his gentle, piercing eyes 
 family tragedies were revealed, and how surprismg they 
 often were ! I recall one household in Hampstead when 
 the illness of the mother, which had evoked much sympathy, 
 was revealed as secret drinking, and my husband's triumph 
 when, after weary weeks of moral output, he safely launched 
 her in a home for dipsomaniacs. He was powerless, how- 
 ever, with a young and beautiful woman, who, surrounded 
 with every luxury and interest, had yielded to the drug 
 habit. To him, so daintily sensitive on sex relationships, 
 were brought at different times no less than four cases of 
 unnatural vice. One smner he drew to repentance, another 
 to justice, a third he comforted in his cripplmg sorrow, the 
 wife of the fourth he induced to remain with him. 
 
 It was the enormous pains he took over his friends' diffi- 
 culties which made them turn trustfully to him. The 
 following letter will illustrate this point. It was written 
 when summoned to two friends who, though unable to 
 agree, dreaded to break theii' marriage union. The wife 
 is designated by A. B. : 
 
 Here I am — a poor cripple who, instead of having lost an arm 
 or a leg, has lost his head or his heart. This line re- 
 presents a long day full of the most distressing talk. A thousand 
 times have I wished for you and your downright loving guidance. 
 
THE FRAUDULENT 269 
 
 A. B. began by suggesting that I knew of things from you. I 
 took up the parable and discussed the position as if it were 
 possible by influencing him to make things right. We went 
 on for a long time thus, then she said " Shall 1 leave him ? " and 
 added that she had almost determined to do so, had written him 
 to this effect ten days ago, and further had told him this morning 
 that I had come with a view to action being taken. This took 
 me aback. . . 
 
 Under the circumstances there are three possible courses. 
 
 1 . That she, by threatening to leave him, should control his life. 
 
 2. That she should leave him. 3. That she should let him do as 
 he lUies, living still by his side. 
 
 The last course seems to me to be one unfaithful to right, and 
 so I have gone strongly against it. I felt for you before I advised 
 and think I spoke in jour strength. The second course, I tliink, 
 would result in his wreck, moral and intellectual. A. B.'s sister 
 had been to me and stronglj' urges that separation is necessary. 
 She has a low opinion of him, says he is a clever child, with no 
 principle. 
 
 I am inclined to think that A. B. takes Uttle things to be great, 
 and has no sense of proportion. Of course I don't know and 
 without you I have poor eyes. What should I do without you ? 
 I could neither see nor speak. All the evening I have felt power- 
 less as one does in a dream when one finds oneself in the street 
 without one's clothes. 
 
 If A. B. could bear the burden and could make herself his 
 master, then I could be happy in forcing him into obedience. 
 " Take the helm " is the advice, but how to do it will need guid- 
 ance and help which only God can give. Patience, firmness, joy, 
 and seriousness will all be necessary. I half fear, though, that 
 love is gone. Oh dear, oh dear ! The impasse is one at which 
 one's heart and head dash in vain. I must wait and hope. 
 
 The fraudulent were perhaps the hardest to deal with, for 
 the repentance of the dishonest is so genuine while it lasts, 
 and yet evanescent if saved from its legitimate punishment. 
 How vividly they stand before my memory, though some 
 have gone to their last account : Miss W. the rent-collector, 
 who persuaded the thrifty tradeswoman to entrust her with 
 her savings — £200 — because " it seemed all right as she was 
 from the Church " ; Mr. X. who, as my husband's co- 
 trustee, stole his faith and his client's money ; Mr. Y. the 
 rate-collector, who had been so honoured in our midst, and 
 whose defalcations were to him of so little consequence that 
 he could not remember them ; Mr. Z., who while still young 
 had shovsni such calculating devilry that, in spite of his 
 broken-hearted, self-respecting parents, Mr. Barnett set 
 
270 THE RELIGIOUSLY PERPLEXED 
 
 the law in motion to ensure penal servitude for his re- 
 formation. 
 
 Requests often came for my husband's presence from 
 the dying or those lingeringly ill. I do not mean those 
 terrible demands from the frightened friends of disreputable 
 sinners, who think the parson can give them an insurance 
 pass into Heaven. Every clergyman with a shifting popula- 
 tion knows those midnight calls, usually delayed till the poor 
 creature is beyond the reception of conscious comfort. No ; 
 the sick visitijig which came to Mr. Barnett was that by 
 calls from those who had known him in times of health 
 and well-bemg. He went every fortnight for more than 
 three years to one feUow-worker, slowly dying of cancer ; 
 he wrote over sixty letters to a learned friend ; a Russian 
 lady came to London, years after he had met her abroad, to 
 endure a dreaded confinement, so that Mr. Barnett might 
 give her courage ; and the Workhouse and Hospital fre- 
 quently admitted him to visit patients who would be con- 
 tent with no one else. He was specially tender to the 
 old or those who are what is called " breaking-up," helping 
 them to face bravely, if not to rejoice, in the coming 
 change. 
 
 As he saw each one alone I cannot tell of what happened, 
 but I know that the regulation Scripture reading and 
 expected prayer were often omitted, and that the talk was 
 always led away, even when difficult, from the troubles of the 
 illness, to the sorrows and sins of the suffering -world, or to 
 the higher hopes encircling the eternal verities. 
 
 In their religious perplexities many sought Mr. Barnett's 
 guidance. 
 
 " He that doeth His will shall know of the doctrine, 
 whether it be of God," was often offered as a light to 
 those who were walking in darkness ; while for others he 
 adopted the principle which dominates Japanese pictures 
 — the art of leavmg out. 
 
 Sweeping aside the confusmg and the non-essential, he 
 brought the seekers after Truth face to face with the bed- 
 rock of Humanity and Divinity. Faith in the power of 
 love ; dependence on ideal good ; reality of spiritual life ; 
 freedom of perfect scivico ; the eternity of righteousness ; 
 Love of |: God, Grace of Jesus Clurist, Fellowship of the 
 Holy Spirit, these were the eternal facts on which he rested 
 and to his mind religious truths were ever evolving and 
 developing. ;, He wrote : 
 
THE CHRIST THAT IS TO BE 271 
 
 Where two or tliree are gathered together, there Christ is. 
 Where two talk earnestly, as did they who walked to Emmaus, 
 of the " things which have ha^Dpened," and commune together 
 of all their meaning, a third is always present though their eyes 
 be holden. The third is the Ideal of the age, the Christ that is 
 to be. I can imagine how the Ideal of this age might be declared, 
 how the one purpose to which all things move might be shown, 
 how human life might be transfigured, and the future made 
 manifest as the image of Christ, full of knowledge and love. 
 Among us, as we sit at ease and count them great who are served, 
 once more appears the figure of One that serveth. When we 
 acknowledge Him to be our Master, and follow Him, then we 
 shall eat and drink at the table of peace and sit on thrones of 
 knowledge.! 
 
 Worship and Work, published by the Garden City Press, Letchworth. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 " Worship is the loss of self in the contemplation of what is greater 
 
 self — the utter abandonment of all other longings in the one longing to be like 
 Ood — the unselfconsciousness of praise.^' 
 
 In the autumn of 1881 the folio whig poster appeared m 
 bold type on the hoardings of East London : 
 
 THE BUBIED LIFE 
 
 There is a poem on " The Buried Life," of which I am often 
 reminded. Your lives are busy, useful, honest ; but your faces 
 are anxious, and you are not all you want to be. There is within 
 you another life, a buried life, which does not get free. In old 
 days it got free through old forms of religion, and then men had 
 peace, and were not afraid of anybody or anything. We cannot 
 go back to the old forms — they are gone with the old tunes and 
 in presence of the new learning of our days. 2ilany, therefore, 
 have given up religion altogether, and carrj^ about a biuied life. 
 It is buried, but it is not dead. When it really hears God's voice 
 it will rise. Men will live spiritual as well as honest lives. They 
 will rest on some One greater than themselves and have peace. 
 I don't tliink this life will be stirred by excitement or by irrational 
 preaching — and not always by rational preaching ; I beUeve 
 that in the quiet of a place full of good memories, in the sound of 
 fine music, in the sympathy of fellow-seekers, we may better 
 wait God's call. St. Jude's Church in Commercial Street "wdll 
 thus be open from 8.30 to 9.30 on Sunday evenings. Will you 
 come and give yourself even ten minutes ? It may be that, as 
 you listen to the silence, to the music, or to the worship of others, 
 God will speak, that the buried life will arise, and that you will 
 have peace, 
 
THE BURIED LIFE 273 
 
 The poster made a little stir in the locality, the newspapers 
 commented, and manj^ people stood and read every word of 
 it, some rejoicing, others scoffing or wonderuig.' Into the 
 new service I put my whole mind and heart, for had it not 
 come into existence at my insistent demand, I being one of 
 those unfortunate people who, while passionately spiritually 
 hungry, cannot fuid food in the old forms and time-hallowed 
 words, which have to me lost their significance by a reitera- 
 tion which pays no regard to changing conditions ? My 
 husband did not share this view. He found satisfying sus- 
 tenance in the forms of the Liturgy, but he deeply grieved 
 over the failure of the Church ritual to attract the people. 
 
 1881. — Tliinking of the position a church might hold, I cannot 
 at the present time but speak with sadness of that which ours 
 occupies . . . and we have no reason to grieve as if our church 
 were exceptional. The people have simply ceased to find in the 
 ordinary services an expression for their religious feelings. . . 
 
 1883. — The main cause which paralyses progress is the want of 
 Spiritual Life. It is the want of conscious union between the 
 thought witliin and the Thought without ; between our love 
 which burns so fitfully and the eternal Fu'e of Love ; between 
 man and God which puts this narrow limit on results and makes 
 men content with a life unworthy their manhood. If, therefore, 
 there be some who say " What can I do ? " I answer that above 
 all things it is necessary to develop the Spiritual Life. An 
 object must be set before men so grand as to satisfy their reason 
 and to kindle their powers of sacrifice. The Church exists for 
 the purpose, but it is trammelled by its organisation. . . My 
 
 1 The following letter was written years after the poster was issued : 
 
 Letlands, Wotton, ne. Dorking, June 6th, 1 894. 
 Dear Me. Baenett, — 
 
 Personally I am a stranger to you. 
 
 Years ago, more indeed than I care to recall, I became a parishioner of 
 St. Mary's, and I remember the occasion when you first came under my 
 notice. In a dirty alley in Whitechapel, a crowd was gathered reading 
 your appeal to W^hitechapel working men which was pasted against a 
 wall. I stopped, fascinated by your language and thoughts. I read it 
 to the end. 
 
 Years have passed since that day, passed in the midst of the sorrows, 
 misery, and despair with which Whitechapel is so familiar, but your name 
 and the work you were doing there continually crop up amidst it all. 
 The Church has bestowed an honour upon you, but you have a name and a 
 remembrance in the hearts and minds of those who love their fellow-men 
 thuat no earthly title can embellish. 
 
 Accept my esteem for yourself and your able coadjutor, Mrs. Barnett, 
 and with every good wish, believe me, yovirs faithfully, 
 
 A. Brooke. 
 
274 BISHOP WALSHAM HOW 
 
 one desire is to make the Church serve the need of the soul, the 
 need which all have for the wider, fuller life, which is called 
 eternal life. 
 
 The reasons of the Church's failure he fearlessly stated : 
 
 1887. — The Church's failure is due partly to the modern spirit 
 which rejects the use of forms, and partly to the clergy, who, 
 being responsible for the means of worship, have not cared to 
 fit those means to the needs of a new age. The rejection of forms 
 by the young people of England is a mistake, but it is in one 
 sense a noble mistake and worthy of their puritan ancestors. 
 The mistake will work its own cure, and meantime it is foi^ the 
 clergy to cease from blaming men for rejecting a mediseval 
 liturgy, and to consider how by forms they may give expression 
 to that humanitarian instinct, to that passion for action, to that 
 hatred of shams, and to that love of fact, which mark the higher 
 spirit of our days. 
 
 The Church might offer out of its resources means of worship 
 which would capture minds fed on the food of the nineteenth 
 century and subdue their vanity. 
 
 Personally my husband would have wished to have 
 explained and adapted the old service forms until they met 
 the modern needs ; but finding that this did not succeed, he 
 acquiesced with characteristic sympathy in the new service 
 or " The Worship Hour," as we decided to call it. 
 
 Before it could be started. Bishop Walsham How had to 
 be consulted. He did not sympathise with Mr. Barnett's at- 
 titude to Church reform, but he was so shrewd and generous- 
 minded that he recognised the value of all his clergy, and 
 helped them along the paths which in their vision led to 
 righteousness. He often came to see us and enjoyed telling 
 his good stories. One of his experiences he was especially 
 anxious to relate — " So good for you," he said, nodding 
 mischievousty at me. He was, he told us, holding a Sunday- 
 school exammation, and among other disconnected questions 
 he asked : 
 
 " Who was the meekest man in the Bible ? " 
 
 " Moses, sir," was the quick reply. 
 
 " And who was the meekest woman 1 " 
 
 A prolonged pause followed, " during which," said the 
 Bishop, "I began to get a little anxious, running over in 
 my mind the female celebrities of the Bible and trying to 
 select which of them had most of that high virtue. Pre- 
 sently, to my relief, up went a small hand : 
 
THE WORSHIP HOUR 275 
 
 " 'Well, my little man,' I said, ' who was she ? ' 
 
 " ' Please, sir, there never wawr one,' said the boy. 
 
 " I pursued the matter no further, thinking it wiser to 
 leave it there," added the narrator. 
 
 On being made Bishop of Wakefield he left East London, 
 when Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1888. — East London's loss in the Bishop of Bedford is our loss. 
 Although the policy of dividing the diocese did not commend 
 itself to me when Bishop Jackson brought it before our deanery, 
 its effect in the hands of Bishop How has been immeasurable. 
 It is hardly too much to say that the whole neighbourhood has 
 been softened by the touch of his refined piety. As clergy, we 
 were again and again refreshed by his words, and were taught 
 winning ways as well as working ways. With the people he was 
 distinctly the most popular man in East London ; the one person 
 among the crowd of rival politicians and philantliropists whom 
 they thoroughly trusted. 
 
 In 1882 he wrote a brochure containing twelve short 
 poems on twelve of his clergy, among whom was my husband. 
 In sending it, he wrote a delightful and whimsical letter, 
 apologising for bringing me, as the only woman, into a 
 company of twelve men, explaining that he had twice tried 
 to write the poem without me, but that, " like King Cliarles's 
 head, there was no keeping you out." 
 
 In 1881, when we were desirous of starting the " Worship 
 Hour," my husband asked the Bishop to come and see us, 
 and then laid the plan before him. 
 
 Very seriously was the proposed innovation discussed, 
 its relation to the rubrics, its effect on the existing Church 
 services, the danger of religious curiosity, and of " divorcing 
 feelmg from reason." The conclusion of so earnest a con- 
 versation by the Bishop's words — 
 
 " On the whole, Barnett, I think the best thing I can do 
 is to wink," seemed to suggest so ineffective and so inap- 
 propriate an action for a Bishop that we all three burst into 
 laughter. 
 
 Neither have I forgotten the reality and fervour of his 
 quiet episcopal blessing as he left the Vicarage. Later, when 
 the hail of criticisms fell on the Worship Hour, the Bishop 
 showed his wisdom and his strength by " wmking " still, and 
 by maintaining silence, refused to hinder this effort to reach 
 men's sleeping souls. 
 
276 " CHUCKERS-IN " 
 
 Thus began services which went on for twenty-four years, 
 and were so various that it is difficult to describe them. 
 In each was a progressive thought, indicated by the mottoes 
 surrounding the order of service paper. To illustrate that 
 thought, the hymns, solos, readings, were all selected, and 
 the extempore prayer expressed the aspirations encom- 
 passing it. The pauses for silent meditation and the organ 
 or violin solos were so arranged as to be in harmony, and the 
 cordial gravity of the group of earnest men whose duties 
 were to hand service papers, find hymn numbers, and show 
 the diffident into seats, so set the standard that no one 
 doubted, even though to some it appeared to be like a 
 concert, that they had come to the House of God to unite 
 humbly in His worship. 
 
 The gentlemen who named themselves the " Chuckers-in " 
 began their labours in the street, where the people aim- 
 lessly wandered up and down, shouting, singing, and in- 
 dulging in bally-ragging, which not infrequently slipped 
 into real fighting. The main entrance to St. Jude's Church 
 was at the west end and, as the railings had been removed, 
 it opened straight on to the pavement. During the hymns 
 or when the music was loud enough not to require quiet, 
 Mr. Willie Paterson, who for seventeen years acted as 
 " door-keeper in the House of the Lord," would open the 
 door and at once rough people would stop and gather 
 round in curiosity, anxious yet fearful to come in. It 
 was then that the unaffected invitations were effective, 
 and for years and years the two or three men who took 
 this duty never failed. 
 
 " It is free. Go and try how you like it," 
 
 " There are dark places where you can sit and no one can 
 see your clothes," 
 
 " Yes ! come out, when you've had enough of it," sent 
 in many and many a poor " buried " soul Mdio perhaps left 
 with an awakened longing. In the centre of the church 
 sat the regular congregation, self-respecting, thoughtful 
 folk, hard-headed workmen, elderly men, or young critical 
 people, with occasional church-goers or eccentric personali- 
 ties. The side pews held the casual comers, in summer 
 the dirty wayward tramps, the lawless tawdry girls ; in 
 winter those who were clemmed with hunger, dizzy with 
 cold, or desolate with hopelessness — but all, as the Canon 
 often told us, more or less dimly conscious of a " universal 
 Father Who demanded of them their best," 
 
®rber of Service. 
 
 Ipcnitence. ^f 
 
 " O God, lohatever griefs disturb my breast, 5 
 
 While sin remains grant that I find no rest, „ 
 
 How dark soe'er my state or sharp my pain, a 
 
 Oh, let not sorrow cease and sin remain." i 
 
 o 
 
 fJSnin 184. " How can I seek Thy Presence, my God ? " b 
 
 6 ©ra^cr General Conf ession, to be said by the congregation. § 
 
 l Solo . . " Vouchsafe, Lord ! " . . Hmidel ^ 
 
 "> 2. 
 
 ~0 (/) 
 
 ^ " Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day with- <" 
 
 'n °ut sin. O Lord, have mercy upon us ; let Thy o" 
 
 ^ mercy hghten upon us as our trust is in Thee." ,* 
 
 £ i" 
 
 = 1Rea6ing " Janet's repentance," ^ by " George Eliot." « 
 
 ■D SacreD /IBusic . Violin and Organ ... | 
 
 ^ pragcr . That we may feel sorrow at sin . . g 
 
 « 2lntbcm50. " If with all your hearts ye truly seek Me." 2, 
 « Elijah (Mendelssohn) o 
 
 I DBmnlSS. " Sinful, sighing to be blest " . . I 
 
 ^ to be sung by the congregation kneeling § 
 
 c " 
 
 IReaaing . " Desire," by Matthew Arnold . . " 
 
 ~ Psalm li. g. 
 I Solo " God, have mercy " St. Paul {Mendelssohn) E 
 
 c p" 
 
 xs " O God, have mercy upon me, and blot out my _ 
 
 ^ transgressions, according to Thy loving kindness ; 2. 
 
 yea, even for Thy mercy's sake, deny me not ; c 
 
 "^ cast me not a"way from Thy presence, and take not " 
 
 c Thy Spirit from me. Lord, a broken and contrite S- 
 
 •- heart is offered before Thee. I will speak of Thy 5- 
 
 salvation, I will teach transgressors, that all the g 
 
 > simiers shall be converted unto Thee. Then open "* 
 
 .c Thou my lips, O Lord, and my mouth shall show 3 
 
 — forth Thy glorious praise." 2. 
 
 pause for silent Prayer o 
 
 ■©gmn 224 " Sweet Saviour, bless us ere we go " 
 
 Sntbcm "Comfort ye My people". Messiah (Handel) 3 
 
 asene&tctton 
 
 "/ am a sinner, full of doubts and fears, 
 Make me a thing of love and tears." 
 
 H. Coleridge. 
 
 a 
 
 1 The story was told and extracts read. 
 
 277 
 
278 THE READINGS 
 
 From the day the " Worship Hour " was started, until the 
 day the services were abandoned, the whole of the work 
 they entailed was given voluntarily. The choir and organist 
 were unpaid, the professional singers sang without fees, the 
 bell-ringer, the door-keepers, the organ-blower, one and all 
 united in joyful co-operation. The result was the im- 
 portation, into a corner of the EstabUshed Church, of some 
 of that deep and noble spirit which has flourished most 
 among the influences of the Free Churches. 
 
 It will be seen from the order of service that the readmgs 
 from the Bible and the modern writers express the same 
 thought, that the sequence of the service leads from the 
 idea in the first motto to that expressed at the bottom of 
 the page, and that the words at the sides of the paper 
 support the main theme. 
 
 When the readings were difficult or likely to be of per- 
 manent value, we printed them with easy explanations,, 
 and before me now lie many dainty coloured leaflets — for 
 colour was ever refreshing in drab East London — the 
 subjects ranguig from Browning's Abt Vogler to simple 
 poetry such as Bishop C. W. Stubbs's / sat alone with my 
 Conscience. 
 
 The two aisles of the Church were always kept dark, so 
 that the saddest and dirtiest should not fear observation ; 
 the chancel was brilliantly lighted and the font laden with 
 flowers, which Miss Paterson and I gave to all who cared 
 for them as they left the church. The clergy officiated 
 unrobed. 
 
 My husband rarely conducted the " Worship Hour," for 
 after four services and a Sunday-school teachers' training- 
 class, he was often unduly weary, but I sometimes permitted 
 him to come in by the back way just to take the extempore 
 prayer. Was it because he did it better than Mr. Boyle, or 
 Air. Wragge, or Mr. Aitken ? No ! and yet they, as well as 
 I, often begged him to come. Perhaps it was the humflity 
 that unconsciously escaped from him that constrained us 
 to pray. 
 
 The following prayer was taken down in shorthand. 
 How surprised and helped Canon Barnett would have been 
 that anyone thought it worth while. The subject of the 
 service had been " Growth from sorrow for sm to confidence 
 in God in Christ Who can make us triumph over it " ; and 
 the reading was from Kingsley's It is not the will of God and- 
 Mazzini's Duties of Man. 
 
St. Jude's Church, Commercial Street, Whitechapel, 
 after its renovation. 
 
 278] 
 
THE PRAYERS 279 
 
 1885. — God, in Whom we live and move and have our being, 
 we are here to-night with a confession of failm-e and sin. It is 
 Thy purpose that we should be strong and free. We confess that 
 we have been weak and slavish. We have simied agauist Thee 
 in thought, word, and deed. In our private life we have followed 
 om- lower nature, yielded to base desires, failed in our endeavours 
 after good. Because we have not trusted in Thee, therefore we 
 have been base and indolent, thoughtless and mean, faithless 
 and forgetful. In our public life we have sinned against Thee, 
 we have shrunli from responsibility, from our duty to oirr brother 
 man. We have preferred our own ease to doing justice. We 
 have looked on at oppression, passed by on the other side, and 
 given no help to misery. 
 
 We have sinned agauist Thee in our national life. As a nation 
 we are in trouble, poverty, want. It is because we have not 
 trusted in Thee that we are in trouble. God, as a nation and 
 as individuals, forgive us our negligences and ignorances, our 
 levity and thoughtlessness. Give us time to tliink. Father, the 
 giver of life and health and order. Who manifested Thy Son that 
 He might destroy the works of the devil, order our unruly wills 
 and fitful affections, give hf e to our failing aspirations ; strengthen 
 us with Thy strength, purify us with Thy purity, make sin more 
 imjDossible for us. 
 
 Here followed a reference to the elections, and the aspira- 
 tion was expressed that we might elect the pure man, the 
 meek man, so as to give victory to love. 
 
 As an example of the union of my husband's and my work, 
 the following prayer has a double interest. It is in my 
 handwriting, and kept as few such things were treasured, 
 but whether I Avrote it for him to use, or from memory after 
 the service was over, it is not possible to say. 
 
 Holy Father, we know we are not worthy to come to Thee. 
 With the people we meet, we do not half what we might. We 
 neither act, speak, think, feel, nor pray as we should do. Amid 
 our repentance it comes to us that Thou hast called Thyself Our 
 Father and said that we are Thy children, inheritors of all that 
 is holy and eternal. 
 
 Holy Father, in the search for principles, help us to see and 
 hold on to some of Thy eternal truths, and to shape our life on 
 them. Help us to teach that, and that only, which is true to us. 
 Forbid that we should teach in words what our Uves contradict ; 
 forbid that we blaspheme in dehvering Thy great message. 
 Father, we long to teach, and our gratitude makes our hearts 
 leap in determination to declare that God He is Lord. . . 
 Bum out all that is wrong. Crush out all that hinders us. 
 
280 THE WORSHIPPERS 
 
 Awaken our souls till they shrink at the approach of sin. Create 
 in us a fierce hatred of the false, and let us be Thy children, Thy 
 pure messengers, fit to serve Thee, and worthy to render Thee 
 thanks for Thy great mercy to us. In the name of Christ. Amen. 
 
 Of the effect of the service after it had been established 
 seven years Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1888. — The changes which mean growth in righteousness can- 
 not be marked. All that can be done is continually to examine 
 how the means provided — the forms of worship — may best help 
 the man of the nineteenth century. The old forms are helpful, 
 they are loaded with memories, they seem in some way to express 
 the many moods of mind through which we have passed, to be at 
 once the fullest expression of what is inexpressible, and to be 
 the link which binds us to those who are separated from us by 
 time or character. The worshippers who feel the charm of the 
 old forms have need to remind themselves that their feeling is 
 not shared by the majority. The demand of the time is for 
 accurate expression, for change upon change, and men are too 
 hurried to look for a meaning which is not on the surface. 
 
 Scholars and artisans do not therefore, as a rule, use the old 
 forms of worship, and it is for us to find other means by which 
 they may be helped. Worship in which they may themselves 
 take part — prayers in the language of daOy life and weighted 
 with the thoughts of the day — music to express aspiration or 
 sorrow not to be put into words — lessons from those scriptures 
 which the Holy Spirit has never ceased to write for our learning, 
 these arc the means by which men of the nineteenth century 
 may be helped to bind their failure with God's success, their 
 weakness with His strength, and these are the means we have 
 tried in our Worship Hour. 
 
 That service is now seven years old, it is evidently valued, 
 and it is hard not to believe that some in that silent crowd of 
 those who listen and pray have found themselves in that Presence 
 where they may learn to be good and find peace for their souls. 
 
 When I had to be away, from ill-health, Mr. Barnett always 
 wrote to me about the " Worship Hour." 
 
 1886. — Your Worship Hour service was very nice and well 
 attended. Levitus sings well and caught the people. . . Miss 
 Beavis' singers were strong and Statham was delighted with 
 the anthem. Boyle read beautifully. Rabbi Ben Ezra always 
 carries the whole lot along. . . Everything went well and 
 everyone did his duty. One solo from The Elijah was very 
 fine, lifting me right out of myself. The people listened intently. 
 
OPINIONS OF OTHERS . 281 
 
 May 4th, 1889. — At the evening service my sermon went 
 better, but the congregation was unusually poor. At your service 
 the congregation was better and the choir singing was good. 
 Rossetti, Clough, and Carlyle made the readings. 
 
 Whitechapel, January 1st, 1883. — The day is over, your 
 service was good and well- attended. Whitechapel did it all. Miss 
 Hale sang, our choir chorussed, and Fred Rogers " chucked- 
 in." . . . 
 
 I have seen and talked to many people. It is slow work to 
 build up a spiritual house " one by one." It is no wonder that 
 you want to do it to the sound of perfect music. Whichever way 
 it is done, the model of Solomon is good, that the house should 
 grow in silence. 
 
 The following extracts will show what three other men 
 thought of the Worship Hour. Canon Horsley wrote : 
 
 St. Michael's Clergy House, Finsbuhy. 
 
 My dbab Sm, — Permit me, though a stranger to you, to bear my testi- 
 Diony to the value of the work that was being carried on in your church 
 last night. I knew notliing of it till I was attracted like other passers-by 
 by the open doors, but once entered the sight was very striking. I was in 
 a position where I could observe all the congregation, and I was most 
 pleased and edified by the reverential demeanour of all. The men, as far 
 as I could count, exceeded the women in the proportion of three to one, 
 and were chiefly of the costermonger and low labouring class. But observ- 
 ing them not only in their seats but as they went out one by one, no one 
 could fail to observe the air of solemnity and decorum with which they 
 behaved. 
 
 Such a work is one from which visible results are least likely to be traced, 
 but I am sure that the majority would have gone away much mfluenced for 
 good. May you find it to have been so. 
 
 I am, yours faithfully, J. W. Hoesley. 
 
 One who had often officiated at the services and who 
 knew the people well reported : 
 
 1891. — The inner life can be stirred. , . A few simple words, a well- 
 known hymn, the sight of flowers, the sound of music, above all the solemn 
 prayer, draw the soul into the eyes of men and women in whom the life 
 of the lodging-house and the street would seem to have killed down all 
 capacity for deeper feeling. . . At the Worship Hour, instead of choosing 
 a text only for the sermon, a text is chosen for the whole service, and thus 
 prayers and hymns, solos and reacUng, fall into their natural place, and 
 feeling and intellect are together called into play to drive home the truth, 
 now of God's greatness, now of Christ's love, now of the place which faith, 
 or hope, or prayer, or forgiveness plays in the Christian life. . . It is 
 encouraging to hear from one and another, and especially from some who 
 have left East London to work in other parts of England, how real has been 
 
 1—20 
 
282 HYMNS RATIONAL AND REVERENT 
 
 the help which they have found in the stern struggle of life from coming 
 Sunday by Sunday to the Worship Hour at St. Jude's. 
 
 The following is from a man who did much to make the 
 services what they were, but who prefers to be anonymous : 
 
 1902. — One of the congregation, speaking of the help the service had been 
 to him, said, much as he appreciated the readings and the music, there 
 was nothing equal to the time of silent prayer. When the people had been 
 solemnised by music, Mr. Barnett would say, " While the church is silent, 
 let us draw near to God in prayer," and in the silence that followed " souls 
 became still enough to hear God speak." At the close of the period for 
 silence the Vicar gathered up the aspirations and petitions by reciting 
 the Lord's Prayer, in which by his emphasis on one clause or another he 
 brought out the intention of the service. 
 
 It was a very great pleasure to me to prepare the services, 
 to select the governing thought, find suggestive mottoes, 
 choose the readings, and invite the singers. Mr. H. Heath- 
 cote Statham gave generous help in all that concerned the 
 music. Sometimes he added severe criticism, but he had a 
 high standard, and our deathless principle of " the best for 
 the lowest " demanded fhie music. When Mr. Boyle jomed 
 St. Jude's in 1885 his well-furnished brain enlarged my 
 literary horizon, and a book which he kept, numbering no 
 fewer than 334 pages, on each of which is the record of a 
 separate service, makes interesting readmg. 
 
 It was essential for the " Worship Hour " that hymns 
 should be both rational and reverent, but no such collection 
 seemed to exist, until Miss Townsend made one and presented 
 it in manuscript to Mr. Barnett — following her Cliristmas 
 gift to him by a birthday gift to me of 500 copies subscribed 
 by many friends. 
 
 1886. — The new hymn-book ref)resents the thought of one 
 friend whose sympathy has been proved through many years, 
 and the publication represents the generous good-will of many 
 friends. The very presence of the books in the pews is thus an 
 evidence of the Unseen Sjairit of Love wliich broods over all, and 
 the book contains words which must be helpful to those who 
 would think as well as sing. The words of hymns are answerable 
 for many of the misconceptions which lie at the root both of 
 superstition and infidelity. For the sake of tune, false sentiment 
 and morbid fancy have been allowed a place in worsliip. It is no 
 light gain that St. Jude's has now a book of poems which the 
 thinker may study and which all may sing with understanding. 
 
ST. JUDE-ON-THE-HILL 283 
 
 After Mr. Barnett became Canon of Bristol — 1893 — and 
 the Rev. Ronald Bayne Vicar of St. Jude's, the " Worship 
 Hour " still continued, Miss Paterson and Mr. Bartholomew 
 giving the time its preparation entailed ; but as the suc- 
 ceedmg incumbent, the Rev. E. C. Carter, did not recognise 
 the value of the service, its standard dropped and the large 
 and earnest congregation gradually faded away. But the 
 seed of the idea took root both in the provinces and in 
 America, and we have learnt from many correspondents 
 of helpful services started on the lines of the St. Jude's 
 Worship Hour. 
 
 It was only last night, March 8th, 1916, that the Vicar of 
 St. Jude-on-the-HiU, Hampstead Garden Suburb, the Rev. 
 B. G. Bourchier, announced that after a year spent with His 
 Majesty's Forces teaching eternal verities to men facing the 
 perils of war, he felt convinced not only that the Church 
 must become more "simple in its worship and real in its 
 devotion," but also that some of the " great thoughts which 
 had been accorded by God to His present-day servants " 
 should be used in the services. He had decided therefore, 
 with the Bishop's consent, to say Evensong in the afternoon, 
 and to start on Sunday evenings a service which he intended 
 to conduct on the same lines as those of our old Whitecliapel 
 Worship Hour. 
 
 Thus the new St. Jude's, called after the old one, will 
 walk thirty-five years afterwards along the same path, even 
 though her footsteps will be of different shapes, for it is one 
 of the advantages of such a service that it enables individu- 
 ality to have play and gives to those who have been so 
 happy as to find Almighty Power, the opportunity of 
 pointing out the path. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 " A mind is kept clean not by being swept and garnished, but by being kept 
 full of thoughts about things which are lovely, virtuous, and of good report. 
 It would not be waste of their school life, if children accumulated fewer facts, 
 and, instead, learnt the secret of admiration, and found in themselves the way 
 of enjoyment." 
 
 Edttoation occupied much of JVIi-. Barnett's thoughts, and 
 one of his first actions — 1873 — at St. Jude's was to open the 
 schools in the ill-designed derelict buildings. One of the 
 then young teachers has described it : 
 
 The school was no better and not much worse than most Church schools 
 of that time. Small rooms, each containing a whole department, and one 
 tiny dark cloak-room, and the smell in there was simply horrible ! One 
 inadequate door and one narrow staircase, from top to bottom of the 
 building, did duty for admittance and exit both for girls and boys and 
 infants. . . Close to the school was the Vicarage, an oasis in the desert. 
 At the end of the small hall was a tiny sanctum where it was always 
 Sunday — to me at any rate. The house was backed by filthj', festering 
 courts and aUej's, and the houses in them were indescribably wretched. 
 I know, because it was the custom to send the pupil teachers every Monday 
 dinner-time to beat up the morning's absentees from lessons. . . The 
 schools were gradually transformed. We began with soap, towels, and 
 looking-glasses (unheard-of luxury) for the cloak-room ; bunches of flowers 
 were distributed to all the children through the summer months, and by 
 degrees all sorts of nice things were added. 
 
 Our schools wore started with boys and girls together, 
 because the Vicar held that : 
 
 1874. — A fruitful cause of evil in the present day is the inferior 
 education of women. When girls are taught with boys, they will 
 learn much from which they are shut out in " girls' " schools; 
 they will learn also to respect themselves ; the boys, too, meeting 
 girls as equals and competitors, will cease to scorn and tease 
 them, while they will themselves learn to be more quiet and 
 gentle. It must be some time, though, before such schools become 
 popular. 
 
 2Si 
 
CO-OPERATION OP PARENTS 285 
 
 So far from becoming " popular," the next year co- 
 education had to be abandoned, for the girls objected, and 
 their parents for them, to the roughness of the boys, and the 
 size of the small yard which did duty as a play-ground made 
 wholesome recreation impossible. But even in such build- 
 ings my husband had high ideals : 
 
 1877. — If the Church is to act its part in making the schools 
 of the future, it must now show that the children under its care 
 are not only instructed, but also well cultured and imbued with 
 the spirit of generosity and self-sacrifice. Ours must be the 
 first school in the neighbourhood, and every detail of the manage- 
 ment must show signs of thoughtful care. 
 
 1878. — Children should be educated, by their surroimdings in 
 the schoolroom, to recognise beauty and to love order ; educated 
 by intercourse with many minds to find interest elsewhere than 
 in exciting scenes and vulgar talk ; educated, to be religious in 
 the sense which unplies submission to the righteous God and 
 respect for their fellow-men. 
 
 In 1876 the schoolrooms were decorated by using Mr. 
 Walter Crane's coloured illustrations of ^sop's Fables as a 
 dado. This would not be worth mentioning had it not 
 brought us the friendship of Mr. Walter Crane and been the 
 means of starting the Art for Schools Association, whose 
 work has adorned many schoolrooms and raised the standard 
 of pictures provided for the unconscious education of pliant 
 minds. Forty years ago, be it remembered, school walls 
 were left bare for fear that the children should be distracted 
 from their lessons, the only decorations being maps and 
 charts of animals, where the duck was depicted as big as 
 the elephant, and the colour of all was a universal grey. 
 
 The co-operation of parents Mr . Barnett felt to be essential ; 
 so to arouse their interest, they were invited to breakmg-up 
 parties, when little shows of work were arranged and the 
 children entertained their elders. Meetings were also held 
 between the parents and school managers to evoke mutual 
 understanding. 
 
 1879. — The meetings give us the opportunity of pressing upon 
 the parents our plans of educating their children, our efforts to 
 teach them method, to cultivate their intelUgence, and develop 
 their reverence. 
 
 1888. — The parents' Conference ought to make the teachers' 
 work ^deeper. It is part of an efiort to consoUdate all the work 
 
286 HANDICRAFTS TAUGHT 
 
 and the interests connected with the schools, so that parents and 
 teachers, clergy and children, visitors and voluntary teachers, 
 may know themselves as members of one another. 
 
 It was these parents' meetings which enabled the govern- 
 ment of the school to become more democratic. 
 
 1888. — The cost of such schools as ours is large, and this year 
 the repair of the drains amounted to over £50. It occurred to us 
 that it might be well if we took the parents into counsel as to 
 the amount of fee which should be charged. A conference of 
 fathers was summoned, and it Avas pleasant to hear the approval 
 expressed of our methods. After a long talk, it was agreed that 
 every parent should be left to fix the fee he thought he ought to 
 pay. Papers were sent round, and four assessed themselves at 
 6d., fourteen at id., and forty at 3rf. a week, instead of the old 
 2d. fee. If this plan be persistently pursued, it may be that the 
 deficiency of income will be met. 
 
 1888. — To F. G. B. — On Thursday we had a meeting of school 
 parents whom we asked to elect two managers. Our mistake 
 was in asking them to tea, or perhaps in asking the women. A 
 good many of the baser sort came whose one idea is " getting," 
 and their presence was not helpful. 
 
 With the system of teaching then prevailing in elementary 
 schools my husband was unreservedly dissatisfied. 
 
 1886. — The system by which children are every year crammed 
 with facts they do not understand, and by which teachers are 
 led to set more value on results measiwed by an Inspector than 
 on the growth of the children's minds, is very unsatisfactory. 
 The nation's future is founded on the national education, and 
 such education hardly exists. The first thing essential in teach- 
 ing is to interest the child's mind, to engage its attention so 
 that its powers of observation, reasoning, and feeling may be 
 developed. One of our plans is to introduce clay-modelhng 
 and carpentering on two afternoons in each week. We beheve 
 that as the children get interested in doing something, they may 
 be trained to habits of method, induced to reason and even to 
 invent. We believe, indeed, that the time spent in handicraft 
 will better fit them for head work. Their minds during the 
 time, being in a kind of mental gymnasium, will be stretched, 
 become supple, and so they will be more inclined to ask the why 
 and the wherefore. The cost of the experiment will be large, 
 but such an experiment must be tried under the best conditions. 
 Mr. Magnus,' Principal of the Guilds' Institute, is most kindly 
 overlooking what is done. 
 
 * Now SiriBhilip Magnus, M,P. 
 
GOVERNMENT GRANT REFUSED 287 
 
 The enthusiasm of the children and the teachers for the 
 new classes was undoubted, but disappointment awaited 
 them : 
 
 1887. — H.M. Inspector gave us the greatest blow : he came 
 expecting to find exceptional intelligence, and inspected in a way 
 which was in itself a lesson, but which was entirely unexpected 
 by the teachers. The children did not do well, and then, to crown 
 our troubles, the Department refused the grant because the 
 introduction of technical subjects into the time-table had been 
 illegal. Doubtless the children will do better, and the refusal of 
 the Department will be got over, but meantime the school is a 
 martyr to a sense of duty. 
 
 The next year things looked brighter. 
 
 1888. — The schools have won from the Inspector a good report. 
 They are, though, still far below the standard we aspire to reach, 
 a standard much higher than that of the Board Schools. We 
 believe that, even under the cruel oppression of the Code, it might 
 be possible to make learning attractive, and to develop intelli- 
 gence, and we are determined not to think of passing 100 per cent, 
 if we can succeed in putting life into school work. . . New 
 methods of teaching have been introduced into the lower standards 
 of the boys, reading is taught without books, and the attempt is 
 made to evolve rather than to impose a care for order. Special 
 lessons are still given by voluntary teachers in such subjects as 
 geography, physiology, and French, and the scripture lessons are 
 taken by the clergy. 
 
 Indeed it was the freedom to make experiments that was 
 an important factor in my husband's decision to maintain 
 Church schools on voluntary gifts, after the nation had 
 assumed the responsibility of education. 
 
 1876. — The examination by outsiders, not Government officials, 
 the intercourse which grows up between ourselves and the 
 children's parents, the opportunities we have of teaching (Mrs. 
 Barnett, my colleagues, or myself give a Bible or special subject 
 lesson every day), are some of the ends for which I think it worth 
 while to keep the school in our own hands, though I do so in no 
 antagonism to the School Board. 
 
 Neither did the many disappointments which marked nine 
 years of work quench his ardour to base our schools on a 
 system of co-operation — co-operation between managers, 
 parents, and teachers, and co-operation between teachers 
 
288 A PLAY-CLASS 
 
 and children. The latter was obtained by enlisting their 
 interest in their own education, and by giving them a 
 certain amouiit of selection of their work. Behmd the plan 
 lay the hope that they would learn to enjoy using their 
 brains. 
 
 1885. — Our schools should be model schools, and by example 
 point to the blot on national education. Acts of Parliament and 
 certified teachers are not making the people intelligent, much 
 less dutiful. . . There is something rotten in the system on 
 which we are resting our national hope. St. Jude's Schools 
 ought, at any rate, to be an experiment in another system. We 
 might try the effect of releasing ourselves from the domination of 
 the Code, and trust simply to intelligent teaching. . . We 
 might give to children teaching which would interest them, tell 
 them of history rather than make them learn dates, reveal to 
 them the life of a country rather than teach them names of 
 towns, and let them enjoy the thought of poetry rather than spell 
 its long words. When there was no education, Church schools 
 led the way till the nation followed ; now that there is bad 
 education, it is for the Church schools again to lead. 
 
 In the St. Jude's Report of 1886 Mr. Barnett speaks of our 
 night schools at " which boys and girls, whose licence is 
 their shame, are besieged by methods representing the 
 ingenuity of patient love," and then tells of the starting of 
 " what may be called a Play-class." 
 
 1886. — The children from homes in which there is no room 
 to play, and whose play-ground is the streets, have few traditional 
 games, and those few are noisy. They are ignorant of the 
 pleasures to be found in quiet, in silence, and seH-imposed 
 restraint. Play-classes have, therefore, been started from 5 
 o'clock to 7 o'clock. Parties of ladies and gentlemen come 
 regularly to act as playmates, to suggest games, and to inspire, 
 if not to dictate, order. Their duty is by no means easy. The 
 tendency of the children to make a wild rush and to change the 
 game every few minutes is difficult to check without the force 
 which would destroy the charm of a play-hour. The playmates 
 may think that, compared with the work of State schools, 
 orphanages, leagues, etc., their efforts are contemptible, but 
 without such "despised and rejected" efforts, other may be 
 
 Everyone knows how, under Mrs. Humphry Ward's 
 inspiriting energy, there now exists, in all parts of London, 
 a great network of play-centres, with their troops of salaried 
 and volunteer workers. 
 
EVENING CLASSES IN THE AFTERNOON 289 
 
 Of the other experiments, that of getting volunteer 
 teachers for special subjects, which included physiology, 
 geography, Shakespeare, history and literature, was perhaps 
 the most fruitful ; for it not only resulted in the creation of 
 friendship between the children and cultivated men and 
 women, but in many walks to the Parks — always in small 
 parties never exceeding twelve — excursions to picture 
 galleries, and visits to the Zoo ; thus beginnmg — 1876 — a 
 series of " pleasures with educational objects " which stUl 
 grows, and grows to some purpose. 
 
 As two little groups of hot happy East London children 
 gathered round the tea-table in my garden on Saturday, 
 July 9fch, 1916, their hands full of treasures — for they were 
 a nature-study party — I contrasted them with gratitude 
 with the thm faces, lawless ways, and animal habits that 
 the same sort of small people would have shown in those 
 early rambles forty years ago. But the pathos of town- 
 homes for nature-lovers dwells m the hearts of even these 
 well-behaved little mortals. 
 
 " Please, ma'am, need we go home ? 'Tis the far-ofi I 
 want to look at," was politely whispered to me, and the 
 glories of the sunset over my great view made it hard to say, 
 
 " I am afraid you must, dear, for it will be ten o'clock 
 now before you reach Wappmg." 
 
 Among the experiments tried was one of evening classes 
 in the afternoon. At that time the rule was for children to 
 leave school on their reaching thirteen years of age or passing 
 the fourth standard. The girls refused to remain beyond 
 the usual age, and yet careful mothers of the small tradesmen 
 or upper mechanic classes did not wish their daughters to go 
 to factories or take service while they were so young. The 
 result was that they hung about at home " helping mother " 
 in the morning, but idling for the rest of the day. For these 
 girls my husband ^started afternoon continuation classes 
 under the regulations for evening teaching. Miss Buss, of 
 the North London Collegiate School, superintended them, 
 and the teachers were both professional and volunteer. 
 
 1886. — If the plan is approved, our girls will have a great 
 opportunity. They will be able to acquire the knowledge which 
 will make them better able to enjoy both solitude and company, 
 and they will be helped to preserve for the time of womanhood the 
 habits of regularity which they have acquired in school. 
 
290 TEACHING OF RELIGION 
 
 To give reality to tlio religious teaching in the schools was 
 of deep importance to Mr. Barnett. 
 
 1890. — The justification most often put forward for voluntary 
 schools is that by their means religious education is secured. It 
 is a claim to be urged with humility. Far be it from me to say 
 that religious education is impossible in Board Schools. Wherever 
 a teacher lives in the fear of God, there must be religious teaching 
 in his school, and there are, I know, many such teachers in whose 
 presence children learn to know of the God Whose Will must be 
 done. At the same time, it is fair to say that in the Board 
 system there is no care to appoint such teachers. In our school, 
 while we strive to secure that children are instructed in the facts 
 of Bible history, we aim also at gettmg them taught by those 
 who themselves feel the nearness of God to their own history. 
 For tills reason the teachers often meet to strengthen one another 
 by common study of the Bible, and to get strength from God in 
 the Holy Communion. 
 
 Of these opportunities, one who was then teaching in St. 
 Jude's wrote : 
 
 I love to recall the " family prayers " held in the Vicarage every Monday 
 morning before school began, for clergy and teachers ; and the practice 
 also for these same workers to meet in the Church for Holy Communion 
 after every school hoUday at 8.15 on the morning of reopening school. I 
 often did not appreciate it then. I would now. 
 
 After many years' experience of work begun with prayer, 
 the Vicar wrote as f oUows : 
 
 1886. — The teachers have tried to carry through each term 
 the spirit of the Holy Communion with which it began, they 
 have tried to act as members of a greater whole, and to consider 
 the children as individuals born of God. 
 
 To the actual teaching of the Bible he devoted much 
 attention, himself giving the lesson four mornings in every 
 week, to the teachers as well as to the children, but of 
 religious examination he was critical : 
 
 1878. — I am sure an examination of rehgious knowledge is 
 unhealthy, and I am not convinced that an examination of 
 subjects connected with rehgion is good. . . The visit of the 
 Inspector, though, tends to give a certain order and importance 
 to work which otherwise might seem to deserve less attention. 
 
THE SPLENDID STAFF 291 
 
 One lady, now holding a responsible position under the 
 London County Council, who was then a pupil teacher under 
 the old system of joint training and teaching, wrote of his 
 lessons on religion : 
 
 It was our Vicar's broad grand way of reading the Bible that made us 
 feel it to be true, and he taught us cleverly by asking for our ideas. How 
 we strove to come up to the mark bj' giving thoughtful, and sometimes to 
 us original ( ? ) answers ! I can see his face now all kindled up with affection- 
 ate kindness, if we did say anything worth the breath spent upon it. Only 
 once did we see him angry. One of us gave a foolish, thoughtless answer, 
 and the Vicar burst out, " Oh ! you donkey, you donkey." We returned 
 to work submissive and deeply chastened, because of so unusual an occur- 
 rence. To think of it afterwards was to contract frost-bite on our 
 imagination ! 
 
 I delight in that donkey tale. I never liked my husband 
 quite so much as when I had seen him angry. 
 
 During the twenty-one years that he kept the school going 
 there were often times of doubt and difficulty, both financial 
 and otherwise, but the staff was splendid. Mr. Polyblank, 
 who has already contributed to this book, left St. Mary's to 
 help Mr. Barnett to start St. Jude's Schools, and he remained 
 with us tni the end. Miss Thomas — a member of the house- 
 hold of my gu'lhood's home — was trained as a teacher on 
 purpose to come to East London with us ; and later Miss 
 Jenkins and Miss Davies joined the staff. Of them my 
 husband -wrote : 
 
 1888. — 1 have spent an hour in the schools. I believe my two 
 women will vanish like Elijah in chariots of fire. Their sacrifice 
 is unearthly, and I don't know how to make them take adequate 
 pay or limit their work. 
 
 That he had done something to promote their " un- 
 earthly " attitude the following letter wUl show : 
 
 December Mth, 1887. 
 Deab Mb. Baknett, — I cannot let to-day pass without tellmg you how I 
 thank you, not for your justice only, but for the calmness you instilled 
 into me. Seeing you, and thinking how often I fail in my duty, I could not 
 but realise that the best way to keep from failure was to help someone else, 
 and I DOW feel that I can help Jessie as her friend to conquer her sullen- 
 ness. I am more thankful than I can express that my three years' inter- 
 course and friendship with you have helped me to come to this conclusion. 
 If I had not seen true religion at St. Jude's now I believe these softened 
 feelings would not have come. I have written to Jessie. 
 
292 RELATIONS WITH SCHOOL BOARD 
 
 Whatever happens, I am happy to-night, because with God's help and 
 your example I am able now to feel, that though as Mistress I must, when 
 necessary, insist on obedience, yet at the same time as her friend I can help 
 her to do right. 
 
 I remain, yours respectfully, A. B. C. 
 
 And it was not only the heads of the departments who 
 served with such inspiring sacrifice, the younger members of 
 the staff shared their spirit, often refusing higher salaried 
 posts to stay on in dear, dirty St. Jude's. In 1893, the year 
 Mr. Barnett resigned the parish, he reported ; 
 
 1892. — More satisfactory even than a good report which we 
 have gaiaed, was the pleasure expressed by the Inspector at the 
 tone of the school and at the manners of the children. Indeed, 
 no one can visit the departments without being struck by the 
 open human look of the children and by the evident interest 
 they take in their lessons. 
 
 Mr. Barnett's relations with the School Board were always 
 cordial. He canvassed to get Dr. Elizabeth Garrett [Anderson] 
 on to the first School Board in 1870, and on the first Board 
 school being opened in our parish — 1874 — he attended the 
 function and gave it a sincere welcome. Both he and I 
 became local managers, and it was the realisation of the 
 limitation of their powers, in conjunction with the magnitude 
 of their opportunities, that caused my husband to lead so 
 persistent and determined a fight to obtain for them ofiicial 
 permission to render efficient service. After the Local 
 Managers' Association was formed, he wrote : 
 
 1883. — The result has been that both directly and indirectly 
 the managers have more control over the schools. This must 
 be good, if the managers use their powers well, and, by study, 
 qualify themselves for their duties. An adequate system of 
 local management would enable the Board to dispense with 
 some of its officials — its inspectors of inspectors — to manage the 
 schools on a more economical plan, and, above all, to keep up in 
 the schools the sense of the personal supervision and interest of 
 those living in the neighbourhood. The Managers' Association 
 meets monthly under the chairmanship of Mr. Sydney Buxton ; 
 it ought not only to protect the position of managers, but fit 
 them to use their great powers in extending^and deepening Hhe 
 education of the children. 
 
 The story is too long and too technical to write, but the 
 movement, under the devoted service of Mr. W. H. Pyddoke, 
 has gathered both force and influence, and from the seed of 
 
DELIGHT IN CHILDREN 293 
 
 its labours can be traced the great tree of Care Committees 
 with its many sheltering and sustaining branches. 
 
 More than once in our long working life, wo have both 
 been invited to stand for the School Board or the County 
 Council, and at all times Mr. Barnett has been the friend of 
 the officials and the candid critic of their work, employing 
 either pen, platform, or pulpit to rebuke, stimulate, or insphe. 
 In 1896, supported by Mi\ Kittle, he attacked the School 
 Board for wastmg public money, and repeatedly protested 
 against the multiplication of officials, the perfunctory nature 
 of inspections, the limitations of teachers' traming, the 
 inelasticity of the Code, and the large size of classes. 
 
 He did not often wi-ite about children, whom he gaily 
 loved, especially boys, but from Worship and Work these 
 two extracts are taken : 
 
 The bright spots in darkest London are the children. Their 
 laiighter breaks in on the harsh notes of the street traffic, their 
 freedom lifts for a moment the clouds of care from burdened 
 brows. Their seriousness in play often opens to passers-by 
 visions of a more satisfying pursuit than that of money or pleasure. 
 Children are still images of the greatest in the kingdom of heaven ; 
 they are still apostles of truth. 
 
 Children have many God-given capacities, powers of doing, 
 of thinking, and of loving. These, for earth's sake and for 
 heaven's sake, must be drawn out. As gold lies hidden in the 
 mine, so qualities lie hidden in the children. It is on working 
 these qualities, on making the children all that is possible, that 
 wealth and happiness depend. 
 
 As soon as ToynbeeHalP was occupied, Mi-. Barnett formed 
 the Education Reform League — 1884. In the early Toynbee 
 Reports its programme is given : 
 
 1886. — The object of the Education Reform League is to enlist 
 the co-operation of the working classes in the eifort to infuse more 
 life into the dry bones of State-aided Elementary Education. Its 
 aims include — 
 
 1. University education for teachers in primary schools. 
 
 2. Equal opportunities for all children to attain their highest 
 
 1 This is one of the instances referred to in the introductory chapter on 
 The Plan of the Book. Although no mention has yet been made of Toynbee 
 Hall, it is necessary to introduce it here, for in this chapter aU Canon 
 Barnett's work in relation to elementary education is dealt with. 
 
294 EDUCATION REFORM LEAGUE 
 
 capability by continuity of training — technical, physical, and 
 intellectual. 
 
 3. Improvements in the system of inspection. 
 
 4. The more general employment of school buildings and play- 
 grounds for the people's benefit. 
 
 The poHcy thus adumbrated is a wide one, and those who have 
 set their hands to the plough are conscious that it will be a long 
 and arduous task to give eif ect to any considerable portion of the 
 desired reforms. They will be little likely to be attained until 
 the parents are themselves educated to be in earnest to demand 
 them. 
 
 Mention will be made of the methods the Warden 
 adopted to help Toynbee Hall to realise itself as a whole, 
 and of these the Education Reform League was the most 
 important. To consider its course of action, not only was 
 every Resident invited, but he was asked to bring his friends 
 among the artisans, tradesmen, and teachers, and thus a 
 splendid body of working reformers were gathered together. 
 The League had sub-committees in Stepney, Whitechapel, 
 Mile End, Limehouse, Bow and Poplar, but its house of 
 call was Toynbee Hall. Deeply interesting were the meetings, 
 and apart from its work, it served, if I may so put it, as a 
 class on education for University graduates, its teacher 
 being the Warden. To it every new Resident came, and 
 got some glimpses into this vast subject of national import- 
 ance. It is not often that my husband allowed, even to 
 himself, the credit of success. So the following extract from 
 his paper in the University Review, published twenty-one 
 years after the Education Reform League was established, 
 may be pardoned : 
 
 June 1905. — Twenty years ago primary education was much 
 as it had been left by Mr. Lowe. Some University men living in 
 a Settlement became conscious of the loss involved in the system, 
 they talked with neighbours, who by themselves were uncon- 
 scious of the loss, till inspired and inspiring they formed an 
 Education Reform League. There were committees, meetings, 
 and public addresses. The League was a small affair, and seemed 
 to be little among the forces of the time. But every one of its 
 proposals has been carried out. Some of its members in high 
 official positions have wielded with effect the principles which 
 were elaborated in the forge at which they and working men 
 sweated together. Other of its members on local authorities 
 or as citizens have never forgotten the inner meaning of education 
 as they learnt it from their University friends. 
 
COMPULSORY CONTINUATION SCHOOLS 295 
 
 In pursuance of No. 2 of the aims of the Education 
 Reform League, Canon Barnett demanded that — 
 
 The children should be kept in school until the age of fifteen 
 or sixteen, and maintenance he provided. A universal free 
 education with necessary hoard need ho no more dogi'ading than 
 is the provision of the scholarships now enjoyed by only a few.^ 
 
 He also urged that — 
 
 There should be a chain of continuation schools at which 
 attendance should be compulsory up to the age of eighteen or 
 nineteen. These schools would aim at the further development 
 of the children's tastes as well as capacities, always remembering 
 Lord Goschen's dictum that education should prepare people 
 not only to earn a livelihood, but also to enjoy life.^ 
 
 It would have been a joy to him to Vi^elcomo Mr. Fisher's 
 Bill. 
 
 One has to live in a densely populated neighbourhood to 
 realise that holidays are certainly not happy daj'S nor holy- 
 days. To remedy the evils of long summer days spent idly 
 in crowded streets, my husband advocated the extension of 
 the holiday months. In 1901 he vrrote to his brother : 
 
 November 2,Qth, 1901 . — Yesterday I went to interview the School 
 Board authorities about extension of holidays. It is quite 
 reasonable but opposed to the interest of officials whom it would 
 disturb. We shall see. 
 
 But the realisation of his hope has not yet come. Nearly 
 eleven years after that first interview he wrote : 
 
 May 1912. — It is assumed that holidays must fall in the month 
 of August. Now there are many parents whose occupation 
 keeps them in town durmg that month, and who cannot therefore 
 take their children to the country. August, too, is the period 
 when all health resorts are most crowded and expensive. And 
 lastly, if holidays are taken only in this autumn season the 
 country of the spring and summer, with its haymaking, its flowers 
 and its birds, remains unknown to the children. The obvious 
 change — so obvious that one wonders why it has not long ago 
 been adopted — is to let some schools take their holidays in the 
 months of June and July. But I myself would suggest the best 
 plan would be to keep all, or most, of the school in session during 
 the whole summer, establishing for the three months a summer 
 
 1 The Daily News, January 21st, 1913. 
 
296 NO HOLIDAYS 
 
 curriculum, on the lines of those adopted in the Vacation Schools. 
 The children would then be able to go with their friends, or 
 through the Children's Country Holiday Fund for their country 
 holiday, without any interference with the regular school regime ; 
 and all, while they were at home, would have those resources in 
 the school hours which have proved to be powerful to attract 
 them from the streets. 
 
 The teachers, free at last to take some of their hohdays in June 
 or July, would be able to benefit by the lower charges, to get, 
 perhaps, a recreative hohday in the Alps instead of one at the 
 English seaside in the somewhat stale companionship of a party 
 of fellow-teachers. 
 
 The proposal to keep the schools in session during the 
 whole summer was one which met with scant encourage- 
 ment. The Press admitted Canon Barnett's articles, but 
 they were usually followed by angry protests. Each year, 
 however, ho repeated the proposal, arguing it not only for 
 the children's sake, but from the point of view of the teachers 
 and parents. In the meantime, Mrs. Humphry Ward had 
 carried out her scheme of Vacation Schools, and in them 
 there was always a splendid object-lesson. In The Daily 
 Telegraph my husband wrote : 
 
 July ISth, 1911. — During the three summer months the curri- 
 culum might be like that of the Vacation Schools, in. which the 
 children, hearing about natvire, paying visits to " sights," and 
 vising their hands, find a new pleasure in school. The buildings — 
 often the only pleasant space in a crowded neighbourhood — ■ 
 would thus be in continuous use, while the children and teachers 
 could get away for their country or foreign hohday without 
 breaking into anj^ school routine. . . 
 
 The teachers could have not four, but six weeks' vacation, in 
 which there would be time for a foreign visit when the hotels were 
 least crowded. The children, at the end of their fortnight in 
 the country, would return, not just to loaf about the streets amid 
 the dirt and the noise and the degrading temptation, but to take 
 their places in the open and pleasant surroundings of the school, 
 with its manifold interests. 
 
 Among the advantages to be gained by the longer period 
 available for holidays was that of school journeys, to the 
 first of which Canon Barnett gave much help. Perhaps few 
 early documents of movements can possess more interest 
 than the first journey's Album, which showed not only most 
 careful preparation of the district to be visited, geologically, 
 geographically, historically, and botanically, but also the 
 
MONSTER DAY -TREATS CONDEMNED 297 
 
 art of stixnulatiiig intellectual curiosity by leaving much to 
 be added by the boys' efforts. 
 
 My husband also advocated the interchange of visits 
 between English and foreign children, and urged that the 
 advantages were not only those of learning each other's 
 languages, but those of enlarged horizons and increased 
 sympathy between nations. 
 
 Side by side with these reforms, he waged continual 
 war against the sin of prostitution of holidays, the monster 
 day-treats falling specially under his clear-sighted con- 
 demnation. 
 
 At such treats the pleasure, such aa it is, is that which is 
 given by drink. The children lose their self-control, they shout 
 and scream, they quarrel and fight for the best places in the 
 carriages, they ill-treat the donkeys, the frogs, and the crabs, 
 and they return home dishevelled, cross, and ashamed. They 
 do not by their day in the country accumulate memories which 
 will draw them to a country life, and they do not get pleasures 
 which will furnish their imagination with new scenes in which 
 to act.i 
 
 On the results of these " happy days " he was equally 
 severe. 
 
 Children's monster day-treats are, I believe, harmful charity. 
 These " days in the country" do not, as their supporters imagine, 
 promote either health or real enjoyment. The long day in the 
 hot sun, the noisy journey, the unwholesome food of pies, cakes, 
 ices, and sweets, the air laden with the breaths of a thousand 
 children huddled together in the comer of a field or beach, the 
 excitement of the day, and the prostration of weariness so affect 
 health that many children are ill for two or three subsequent days, 
 and all are made more liable to disease. The teachers of schools 
 in this neighbourhood give a record of results which, if it could 
 be realised by parents, would soOn put a stop to the practice.'' 
 
 It was one of his gracious habits never to condemn without 
 indicating a more excellent way, and therefore entwined in 
 the condemnatory letters there were suggestions for various 
 methods of helping children in small groups " to wander in the 
 fields and woods, make friends with strange playfellows, ob- 
 taui excitement by new revelations of country ways, dare the 
 elements, and learn to understand the beasts." Every year 
 the storm broke from aggrieved parsons, who asserted that 
 
 ' The Church Times, July 31st, 1896. » The Times, July 1896, 
 
 1—21 
 
298 FEEDING CHILDREN IN SCHOOL 
 
 Mr. Barnett's letters prevented the opening of purses ; from 
 sentimental journalists, or from people who can imagine 
 nothing to be better than what is ; but he was supported by 
 Mr. Brooke Lambert and a few others who really cared for 
 child character, and so he continued to protest agamst 
 monster day-treats to the end of his life. 
 
 He also realised that the problem of fruitful holidays is 
 not confined to the children in the elementary schools. At 
 conferences and by articles he faced the difficulties in 
 secondary and public schools, holding that the vacations 
 were too long both for scholars and teachers. For the 
 latter he advocated a closer adherence to duty with a year's 
 vacation and a travelling scholarship every seven years. 
 For the boys he hoped to see organised educational travel- 
 ling, or camps with agricultural duties, a system which 
 during the last few years has come to effective realisation 
 under the able leadership of Mr. J. Howard Whitehouse, M.P. 
 
 On the feeding of the children in the elementary schools 
 my husband held strong opinions. In one of his articles, 
 after summing up the disadvantages of giving dinners to 
 selected children, he wrote : 
 
 1914. — May I submit a more excellent and a more simple way ? 
 
 Let an ample breakfast of porridge, milk, and treacle — the 
 food which experts declare and which experience has proved to 
 be the best for children — be provided at 8 a.m. every morning in 
 some central school hall, and let all children be free to come. 
 There would be no need of investigation with its expense and its 
 heart-burning. The meal could be served without making the 
 school unfit for use, the children of careless parents who are now 
 sent to school with a bit of dry bread or a penny with which to 
 buy something, which is generally unwholesome, would get the 
 early morning support for which their bodies crave, the children 
 with good homes would not come, and on the mothers would 
 remain the obligation of preparing some dinner. This obliga- 
 tion is a tradition of family life, and many mothers who will 
 not get up in the morning to give their children breakfast often 
 do manage to give them a dinner. The obUgation would not be 
 weakened by the provision of a milk breakfast, in the value of 
 which the average mother would not believe. 
 
 A further advantage of the breakfast system is that when 
 children are found by the doctor to be underfed and have not 
 come to the breakfast freely provided, there would be a ■prima 
 facie case for charging the parents with neglect. The children 
 
TECHNICAL EDUCATION 299 
 
 might then, if it seemed advisable, be adopted and, either in this 
 country or in the Colonies, be placed in a family where they 
 would have — not just a meal a day — but the continual care they 
 need. 
 
 The public breakfast would, in a word, put within the reach of 
 every child, without any loss of self-respect or any fear of re- 
 proach from fellow-pupils, the nourishment necessary to enable 
 him to learn his lessons and play his games. There would still 
 be private funds which could provide dinners for exceptional 
 cases ; but under a reformed poor-law when widows have their 
 children boarded out to themselves and when seasons of un- 
 employment are met with greater foresight, it may be hoped that 
 such exceptional cases will be few. 
 
 It has already been shown that St. Jude's schools lost then- 
 grant in 1887 because of Mr. Barnett's desire to teach handi- 
 craft, an incident which merely whetted his determination. 
 In this matter he was not isolated, and the National Associa- 
 tion for the Promotion of Technical Education was sup- 
 ported by many leading brains. 
 
 June nth, 1887. — Yesterday I went to a meeting at Devon- 
 shire House about promoting technical education. Oh these 
 houses ! there, within a stone's throw of crowded courts, was a 
 park like a desert, a palace which was desolate. I was shown 
 through pillared halls, up a sweeping marble staircase into a 
 gilded silken room. The meeting contained Huxley, Roscoe, 
 Lubbock, Samuelson, Playfair, and a half-dozen more well- 
 known people under Lord Hartington. He is an honest piece of 
 wood, too honest even to be humble, too wooden to take in any 
 new idea. I saw why he is popular, he is what Englishmen used 
 to think themselves. The meeting was strangely ineffective and 
 made one feel that cabinets are no better than other committees. 
 
 A small committee of five — none aristocrats — was appointed 
 to do everything. Of this I am one. 
 
 Many years after this meeting, when Lord Rosebery's 
 persistency had achieved its object, he wrote one of his one- 
 sentenced letters to my husband, whom he hailed as " the 
 parent of this Charlottenburg." 
 
 No mention has been made on his views on, or work for, 
 the various Education BUls which were conceived, amended, 
 rejected, or passed during the fifty years of his working life. 
 The omission is made, partly because the subject is too 
 technical to bo of general interest, and partly because merely 
 
300 "EDUCATE, EDUCATE, EDUCATE" 
 
 to record the facts of his work would take too much space. 
 It was dull and laborious too at the time, aud would be 
 duller and more laborious to read now that the interest of 
 personal dealing has gone by. 
 
 After we left Toynbee Hall in 1906 Canon Barnett had no 
 executive relation with schools, but his interest was unabated 
 and his pen very active. Indeed, the great amount of his 
 output on educational matters is what necessitates this 
 abridged summary of those labours. Many of his articles 
 have been reprinted in the three volumes of Practicable 
 Socialism (Longmans, Green & Co.) and Towards Social 
 Reform (Fisher Unwin), while others were on current educa- 
 tional topics, written always in the hope of awakening the 
 public to care for the subject. As I re-read those articles, 
 recall meetings, speeches, conferences, debates, I realise 
 with gratitude how many of the early reforms Mr. Barnett 
 demanded have been accomplished. But his ideals widened 
 as his years increased, though they were all based on the 
 words we had adopted as a guiding principle and often 
 quoted to each other — " The best for the lowest." 
 
 In the Toynbee Council Report the following words 
 occured : 
 
 1892. — The past year has been signalised by the return in July of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Barnett from their journey round the world, and the Warden 
 sounded at once the dominant note of the impressions that he had gained 
 in travel. " Educate, educate, educate, is the voice which the traveller 
 hears as he travels round the world. The spirit of the age is too strong for 
 the minds through which it has to work. . . All of us have our ideals, 
 we dream of a perfect city, a perfect state, a perfect life. Whatever be 
 those ideals, they are impossible until people have both knowledge and 
 intelUgence, until by some means human character is raised to the level of 
 that of the Son of Man. With all the energy roused by the sight of the 
 world, and with all the love kindled by the return home, I would enlist 
 old and new workers in the cause of education." 
 
 That he held the end of education to be the fuller know- 
 ledge of God is clearly put in an article written in 1907 : 
 
 For thirty-four years my wife and I have been engaged in 
 social experiments. Many ways have been tried, and always the 
 recognised object has been the religion of the people — religion, that 
 is, in the sense which I have defined as that faith ta the Highest 
 which is the impulse of human progress, man's spur to loving 
 action, man's rest in the midst of sorrow, man's hope in death. 
 
RELIGION ADVANCED BY EDUCATION 301 
 
 With the object of preparing the way to this reHgion, schools 
 have been improved, houses have been built and oj)en spaces 
 secured. Hobdays have been made more healthy, and the best 
 in art has been made more common. But, viewing all these 
 efforts of many reformers, I am prepared to say that the most 
 pressing need is for higher education. . . There is no activity 
 which more surely advances religion than the teaching which 
 gives insight, far sight, and wide sight. The people, for want of 
 religion, are unstable in their policy, joyless in their amusements, 
 and uninspired by any sure and certain hope. They have not 
 the sense of sin — in modern language, none of that consciousness 
 of unreached ideals which makes men humble and earnest. 
 They have not the grace of humility nor the force of a faith 
 stronger than death. It may seem a far cry from a teacher's 
 class-room to the peace and power of a Psahnist or of a St. Paul ; 
 but,' as Archbishop Benson said, " Christ is a present Christ, 
 and all of us are His contemporaries." And my own behef is 
 that the eye opened by higher education is on the way to find in 
 the present the form of the Christ Who will satisfy the human 
 longing for the Higher-than-self. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 " The ideal leader of the day is a mystic who can be practical." 
 
 Two years after our marriage we paid out fii'st visit together 
 to Oxford, a visit never to be forgotten, not only for the 
 great pleasure which it gave my husband to introduce me to 
 his beloved University, but also for the many consequences 
 that followed that spring visit. 
 
 In our parish, we were confronted by some of the hardest problems of 
 life. The housing of the people, the superfluity of unskilled labour, the 
 enforcement of resented education, the liberty of the criminal classes to 
 congregate and create a low public opinion, the administration of the Poor 
 Law, the amusements of the ignorant, the hindrances to local government 
 (in a neighbourhood devoid of the leisured and cultured), the difficulty 
 of uniting the unskilled men and women in trade unions, the necessity for 
 stricter Factory Acts, the joylessness of the masses, the hopelessness of the 
 young — all represented difficult problems, each waiting for a solution and 
 made more complicated by the apathy of the poor, who were content with 
 an unrighteous contentment and patient with a godless patience. 
 
 In those days these difficulties were being dealt with mainly by good 
 women, generally elderly ; few men, with the exception of the clergy and 
 noted philanthropists, as Lord Shaftesbury, were interested in the welfare 
 of the poor, and economists rarely joined close experience with their 
 theories. 
 
 " If men, cultivated young thinking men, could only know of those 
 things they would be altered," I used to say, with girlish faith in human 
 goodness — a faith which years have not shaken ; and in the spring of 1875 
 we went to Oxford, partly to tell about the poor, partly to enjoy " Eights 
 Week" with a group of young friends. Our party was planned by Miss 
 Toynbee, whom I had met when at school, and whose brother Arnold was 
 then an undergraduate at Pembroke. Our days were filled by the hos- 
 pitality with which Oxford still rejoices its guests ; but in the evenings 
 we used to drop quietly down the river with two or three earnest men, or 
 sit long and late in our lodgings in the Turl, and discuss the mighty 
 problems of poverty and the people. How vividly my husband and 1 can 
 recall each and all of that first group of " thinlting men," so ready to take 
 up enthusiasms in their bo3rish strength — Arnold Toynbee, Sidney Ball, 
 W. [I. Forbes, Arthur Hoare, Leonard Montefiore, Alfred Milner, Phihp 
 Gell, John Falk, G. E. Underbill, Ralph Whitehead, Lewis Nettleship ! 
 Some of these are still here and caring for the people, but others have 
 passed behind the veil, where perhaps earth's suffering are explicable.^ 
 
 1 "The Beginnings of ToynbeeHall," by Mrs. S. A. Bamett : Practicable 
 Socialiam. 
 
 302 
 
VISIT TO OXFORD 303 
 
 We used to ask each undergraduate as he developed interest to come and 
 stay in Whitechapel, and see for himself. And they came, some to spend a 
 few weeks, some for the Long Vacation, while others, as they left the 
 University and began their life's work, took lodgings in East London, and 
 felt all the fascination of its strong pulse of life, hearing, as those who listen 
 always may, the hushed, unceasing moans underlying the cry which ever 
 and anon makes itself heard by an unheeding public. 
 
 What the friendship of that first group of undergraduate 
 friends meant to us both it is impossible to exaggerate. 
 They were "so young, so strong, so sure of God," and 
 caring for us, they again and again swept us out of the 
 darkness and pain of Whitechapel when it tlireatened to 
 paralyse our powers, whUe we swept them out of the sunlight 
 of the happier world, when it thi-eatened to blind them to 
 the sins and sorrows of those who too silently suffered. 
 
 Incidents of that first visit are still fresh in my memory, 
 Grertrude Toynbee, so pretty in her white gowns and lUac 
 ribbons, and alertly interested in all things "lovely and of 
 good report " ; her sister Rachel, with her masses of black 
 hair, provocative smiles, and wilful mischievous ways, so 
 discomposing to her young chaperon ; her brother Arnold 
 with his earnest eyes and strong face, eloquent silences, 
 scorn of trivialities and passionate interest in war, its tactics 
 and traditions ; Alfred MUner,' tall, dignified, and grave 
 beyond his years, weighing evidence on every subject, 
 anxious for the maintenance of absolute justice, eager to 
 organise rather than to influence, and fearful to give generous 
 impulses free rem; Arthur Hoare,' with his blue eyes, flaxen 
 hair, laconic utterances, dogmatic certainty, and glorious 
 capacity for unstinted service ; Lewis Nettleship, that 
 dauntless brave soul with his shy manners, deceptive 
 exterior, and jerky utterance, so great in his humility and 
 humble in his greatness, asking questions which seemed 
 almost foolish until replies had to be attempted — What 
 could one say to such a query as " Why are the poor poor ? " 
 but it left one thinking !— John Falk, glad, laughter-lovuig 
 youth, eager for social schemes and ready to worship as 
 heroes or heroines those who propounded them — I can see 
 him now leap out of the boat into the river to fetch the rose 
 that Rachel, now his wife, threw in and dared him to get out — 
 A. L. Smith,' Fellow of Trinity, the almost unique figure 
 
 1 ViscountjMilner.JG.C.B., G.C.M.G., LL.D. 
 ' House.Maater at Haileybury College, 
 ' faster of Balliol. 
 
304 INTRODUCTION TO MR. JOWETT 
 
 in those days at Oxford of a learned man surrounded by 
 children, joining his wife in tending them as she joined him 
 in wider interests ; a man with a rare persistency of pene- 
 trating spiritual vision, with humour to win the under- 
 graduates and earnestness to hold them, with a humility 
 that both retarded and exalted him, an inconsistency born 
 of frequent additions to his information, and forgivable un- 
 dependableness resulting from too many interests ; Leonard 
 Montefiore, whose complicated character delighted while it 
 mystified his friends, and indeed his brilliant intellect, 
 his mad escapades, his passion for the beautiful, his devo- 
 tion to children, his nonsense talk, his tenderness for the 
 weak, his scorn for and acceptance of wealth, his dominant 
 demand for social equality, made up a personality that was 
 fascinating, lovable, and yet annoying ; W. H. Forbes, the 
 tall spare diffident man, whose shyness hid both his learning 
 and his public spirit, whose dainty tastes made him shrink 
 from the degraded, whose sense of duty drove him to pay 
 them many visits, and whose personal financial habits were 
 parsimonious and public gifts munificent. 
 
 We were all young together, Mr. Barnett being only seven 
 years my senior, and I only two years older than the under- 
 graduates, all young enough to face truth fearlessly and hold 
 the social faith of the mountain-removing quality. 
 
 From that visit in the " Eights Week " of 1875 date many visits to both 
 the Universities. Rarely a term passed without our going to Oxford. 
 Sometimes we stayed with Blr. Jowett, sometimes we were the guests of 
 the undergraduates, who got up meetings in their rooms, and organised 
 innumerable breakfasts, teas, river exovirsions, and other opportunities 
 for introducing the duty of the cultured to the poor and degraded. 
 
 Our introduction to the great Mr. Jowett lives in my 
 memory. It was I think in 1 875, when our friends in Oxford 
 had arranged a meeting in one of the Balliol common-rooms. 
 During the day the numbers of those who were intending 
 to come increased so largely that from Mr. A. L. Smith and 
 Mr. T. W. Green and Mr. H. W. Forbes permission was 
 obtained to use the haU. The Master was away, but the 
 speeches had hardly begun when he unexpectedly returned, 
 walked tlu'ough the crowd of boyish supporters, and sat 
 down by the Chairman. Would he object ? Would he 
 scatter their infant enthusiasm by a few incisive critical 
 words ? Would he think that the duty of undergraduates 
 was to study aiid not to consider social problems ? Would he 
 
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MEETING AT MERTON COLLEGE 305 
 
 be vexed at the use of the hall for a propagaDdist cause ? 
 We felt like conspirators or children caught out in their 
 naughtiness ; but after listening to the speeches, the Master 
 rose and with a warmth that surprised even those who knew 
 him best, supported our aims, touched on the need of im- 
 proving the conditions of the people, and advised each of his 
 listeners to " make some of his friends among the poor." 
 
 When the meeting was over, Mr. Jowett invited us to 
 drink coffee in the Lodge, and as we crossed the quad, I 
 asked him a question, the audacity of which appals mo still, 
 but which so delighted him that from that hour he gave me 
 a deep and priceless friendship. 
 
 As usually I went to Oxford with my husband, there are 
 but few letters about his visits, but here is one: 
 
 Mbbton Colleoh, Oxford, December 7th, 1881. 
 
 I have looked at Jupiter, confided to the Warden my idea that 
 you were looking at him too, but I did not get any sympathy 
 from his bachelor heart,i and I am now sent to my room to prepare 
 my speech. I can't do that better than by writing to you, loving 
 you and thinking of you. So here goes. . . 
 
 I found the Warden alone in a great house, with galleries, 
 passages, and halls. I have two staircases to my room and 
 everything else in proportion. Such a room, but without you 
 it looks empty. We dined in Fall — a party of dull men sat 
 round the table. I talked to the Warden on Church Reform and 
 Egypt. He had met Spencer on his way home from Egypt. 
 We retired after dimier to the common-room, a place to en- 
 courage port -wane and ghost stories. Again talk was dull, 
 marked with Oxford satisfaction, but without Oxford brilliancy. 
 The Land Bill is condemned all round. At 7.30 we walked across 
 the quad and here I am. 
 
 Later the letter goes on in pencil : 
 
 My speech is over. It was a bit too eloquent and had not 
 quite the coolness of Oxford thought and language. However 
 it went — though I had to look atTnotes. Brooke Lambert was 
 diffuse and wanting in point. T. ¥/. Green's was halting, full 
 of doubts with drops of real thought floating in its midst. It is 
 a mistake at a public meeting to show all your mind and suggest 
 vour doubts. T. C. Horsfall followed " rather " Kyrleish." 
 Advocated Boards on which all are to unite. He wants us to go 
 to Jlanchester on the 2nd. We will go if you like. I have said 
 
 1 This of course was chaff. He was never sentimental. 
 
306 MR. ARNOLD TOYNBEE 
 
 " I'll ask at home." You have to say. I do nothing you don't 
 like. Stubbs is now going on. He is speaking like a scholar and 
 a gentleman, but he has not " got " the men. He is too good 
 style. We must all cultivate the fiarcourt style ! It is hard to 
 judge of the meeting. There are about a hundred young fellows, 
 inclined I should say to liberalism, possible curates. 
 
 Later still : 
 
 Alfred Robinson is now up and about to give his personal ex- 
 periences. He is dull and very good. Now good night. I shall 
 see soon what is to be done to-morrow. Married men get 
 spoiled ; they get to think no one so good to talk to as their 
 wives. 
 
 From Oxford the men came to us, and we put them to 
 such work as was possible during the vacations. Leonard 
 Montefiore did the flower shows, B. P. C. Costelloe talked 
 in men's clubs, Arthur Hoare boxed with boys, and all 
 helped at the parish parties, or visited for the C.O.S. or the 
 C.C.H.P. Arnold Toynbee stayed with us rather oftener 
 than the other men, and once for a few weeks during the 
 " Long " he took rooms over the C.O.S. office in Commercial 
 Road, but his health was too fragile to bear the pain and 
 strain of residence in East London, and the experiment soon 
 ended. Usually he would persuade us to go away with him ; 
 and the cliffs of Fanlight, the cornfields round Margate, and 
 certain Surrey lanes still seem redolent of our talks. With 
 him our friendship ever deepened and sweetened, and for 
 him we had high hopes. His letter about his engagement is 
 too beautiful and characteristic to be unshared : 
 
 Oxford, December \st, 1878. 
 
 My dbak Mes. Babnett, — Congratvilations are generally hollow enough, 
 but yours had a reality about them that touched me. I did not mean to 
 deceive you in my letter by that prose version of my love. Now I will be 
 plain with you and hint a little of the poetry of my love. That silent, 
 unnoticed little lady about whom you could learn nothing is the wisest 
 and most lovable human being it has ever been my lot to know ; I love 
 her with all mj' heart .and soul ; without her I know not how my life would 
 end ; with her I know all will be well with me. 
 
 May I thank you for your atlection to me ? I shall alwaj's strive to be 
 worthy of it. 1 do not think 1 will say that you have too high expecta- 
 tions of me — that would be treason to my love. 
 
 Please give my love to your husband and tell him I thought his sermon 
 the best I have ever heard from him. The man he asks about is a good 
 fellow — not very clever or very well educated, and easily excited, but he 
 
UNDERGRADUATES VISIT WHITECHAPEL 307 
 
 has, I fancy, been thinking of these subjects for some time now, and counsel 
 from your husband would be of great service to him. 
 
 My reckoning has all gone wrong. Is it Wednesday the 11th or Thurs- 
 day the 12th that I dine with you ? Will you let me have a postcard to 
 make sure ? 
 
 Please take care of yourself. 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, A. Toynbeb. 
 
 After their marriage we often stayed with them in their 
 tiny damty home, and once they joined us in South Wales 
 durmg one of our holidays, and we had a glorious time. Sadly 
 short, however, was Arnold Toynbee's relations with East 
 London, for he married early in 1879 — three years after his 
 first visit to Whitechapel— and on March lOtli, 1883, left us 
 all sadder by succumbing to the results of his efforts to give 
 lectures in opposition to Henry George's Poverty and 
 Progress, to unsympathetic audiences. It was in Oxford 
 that his influence was chiefly felt, " where with his subtle 
 force of personality he attracted orighaal or earnest mmds 
 of all degrees, and turned their thoughts and faces towards 
 the East End and its problems." 
 
 Very varied were the men who came to us, but that spirit 
 was the same — the spirit of learning not teaching, the spirit 
 of comradeship not patronage. Indeed among the happy 
 chaffing catchwords which spring up wherever young people 
 get together, was one of warning often laughingly given, 
 
 " You are not to do him good, you know." 
 
 This may be misunderstood, so I will give some of my 
 husband's words to his undergraduate friends. 
 
 1883. — Inquiries into social conditions lead generally to one 
 conclusion. They show that little can be done jor, which is not 
 done with the people. It is the poverty of their own life which 
 mal?;es the poor content to inhabit " uninhabitable " houses, and 
 content also to allow improved dwellings to become almost 
 equally uninhabitable. It is the same poverty of life which 
 makes so many careless of cleanliness, listless about the un- 
 healthy condition of their workshops, and heedless of anything 
 beyond the enjoyment of a moment's excitement. 
 
 Such poverty of life can best be removed by contact with 
 those who possess the means of higher life. Friendship is the 
 channel by which the knowledge — the joys — the faith — the hope 
 which belong to one class may pass to all classes. It is distance 
 that makes friendship between classes almost impossible, and, 
 therefore, residence among the poor is suggested as a simple way 
 in which Oxford men may serve their generation. By sharing 
 their fuller Uvea and riper thoughts with the poor they wUl 
 
308 MR. SIDNEY BALL 
 
 destroy the worst evil of poverty. They will also learn the 
 thoiTght of the majority — the opinion of the English nation — 
 and they will do something to weld Classes into Society. 
 
 After they had graduated, some of the men who had visited 
 us came to reside in East London. They lived together ui 
 twos and threes in lodgings or in the model dwellings ; and 
 under the sunny government of the Rev. T. G. Gardiner, 
 who was then curate of St. Jude's, one group of five took a 
 disused beer-shop in Leman Street, where they established a 
 delightful bachelor household and termed it " The Friary." 
 Often these men — among whom were Mr. B. F. C. Costelloe, 
 Mr. James Bonar, the Rev. Charles Marson, Mr. Ronald 
 Bayne, Mr. F. C. MUls, Mr. Dick Francis — went to Oxford to 
 tell the undergraduates " that the wealth of England means 
 only wealth in England," and that "the masses of the 
 people live without knowledge, without hope, and often 
 without health." 
 
 Much fresh interest was awakened, and new recruits 
 gathered round Arnold Toynbee, Mr. A. L. Smith, Mr. 
 Phelps, Mr. Arthur Sidgwick, and the Rev. H. Scott Holland. 
 But it was to Mr. Sidney Ball, whose alert mind, wide 
 sympathies, powers of organisation, and fervent practical 
 idealism made him then, as ever since, a strong force for 
 progress, that my husband increasingly turned to intro- 
 duce thoughtful men. It was his discernment which dis- 
 covered powers in undergraduates worthy of being put to 
 public uses. It was his energy that organised imiumerablo 
 meetiiTigs, among them a memorable one at the Union when 
 the abolition of the poor-law was debated, March 8th, 1877. 
 And therefore it naturally followed that it was in his rooms 
 that the meeting was held on November 17th, 1883, when 
 Toynbee Hall was born. It was by his invitation thirty 
 years afterwards, November 17th, 1913, that Oxford friends 
 who mourned my husband, met and founded Barnett House, 
 for the advancement " of economics and social studies," 
 " of the work of University Settlements," and " of the 
 higher education of the industrial classes." It is a worthy 
 memorial, and the friendship which ir.spired it a sacred 
 offering. 
 
 In .June 1883 we were told by Mr. Moore Smith that some men at St. 
 John's College, Cambridge, wished to serve the poor, but were not prepared 
 to start an ordinary College Mission. Mr. Barnett was asked to suggest 
 some more excellent way. The letter came as we were leaving for Oxford 
 
CANON SCOTT HOLLAND 309 
 
 and was slipped with others into my husband's pocket. Soon something 
 went wrong with the engine and delayed the traia so long that the pas- 
 sengers were allowed to get out. We seated ourselves on the railway 
 bank, just then glorified by masses of ox-eye daisies, and there he wrote a 
 letter suggesting that men might hire a house, where they could come for 
 short or long periods, and,livmg in an industrial c[uarter, learn to "sup 
 sorrow with the poor." ^ 
 
 Just at this time public opinion was much stirred by the 
 Avritings of Mr. Henry Greorge, a series of newspaper articles 
 by G. R. Sims on " How the Poor Live," and a tract by Mr. 
 Mearns called "The Bitter Cry of Outcast London." "It 
 was then," said Mr. T. Hancock Nunn, " that those of us 
 who had been stirred to shame and pity by these pictures of 
 poverty, became aware of a gentle and a powerful spirit 
 that came among us." Of the influence on Oxford of that 
 " gentle and powerful spirit " who for eight years had been 
 preaching " communion between the cultivated and 
 ignorant" until he was laughingly called "the unpaid 
 professor of social philosophy," Canon Scott Holland' 
 wrote : 
 
 Barnett came down and preached in our College Halls, and the whole 
 University laid hold of his idea and understood. He came as a prophet 
 just when it was wanted, and men saw in his Settlement proposal exactly 
 the opportunity which their gathering interest in the problems of poverty 
 demanded for its exercise and fulfilment. He surprised us by his quiet 
 common sense. He had nothing about him that excited us. He some- 
 times spoke with awe and bated breath about things that seemed to us 
 commonplace enough. Once for instance in BaUiol Hall he had described 
 to breathless undergraduates all that might be possible to them if they 
 came to work for the poor m East London, and then he mentioned as a 
 culmination to their dreams and aspirations that possibly at last they 
 might become poor-law guardians ! There was rather a sudden fall ia the 
 excitement for the moment, at this vision of the East End, but we saw 
 gradually that this meant that you would have got to the very heart of 
 things in a way that reaUy touched the Ufe and needs of the poor.' 
 
 It is difficult, records Mr. Alfred Spender,* after thirty years to realise 
 the shock of novelty with which revelations of the condition of the poor 
 came to comfortable people in the seventies and eighties, or the sensation 
 which such a pamphlet as The Bitter Cry of Outcast London made when it 
 was first produced. The separateness of the poor life and the rich life had 
 hardened to a point at which mutual ignorance and repudiation of responsi- 
 bilities threatened to become fixed in Enghsh thought. Social legislation 
 was declared to be outside the sphere of Parhament, and most phUan- 
 
 " The Beginnings of Toynbee Hall," by Mrs. S. A. Barnett. 
 ■ Canon of Christ Church, and Begins Professor of Divinity at Oxford, 
 ' The Commonwealth, July IdlS. 
 
 Editor of The Westminster Gazette, June 19th, 1913. 
 
310 THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 
 
 thropic schemes were denounced as pauperising the poor. :' Barnett's effort 
 was to break down this separation of classes and enlarge the idea of social 
 responsibility. He had a prophetic zeal which kindled his fellow-workers. 
 
 The Archbishop of York, in his reminiscences of Canon 
 Bar nett, referred to the meeting in Mr. Sidney Ball's room, 
 and said : 
 
 Our conscience felt the rebuke of the contrast between the wealth of 
 inheritance and opportunity stored up in Oxford and the poverty of the 
 life lived amid the mean streets and monotonous labour of East London. 
 In a vague way we felt the claim of that poverty on our wealth. Could 
 anything practical be done to meet it ? The answer to that question was 
 important. If it had not come, the movement might have drifted into mere 
 vague sentiment or academic talk. It came that November evening. 
 The Vicar of St. Jude's, Whitechapel, Mr. Barnett, then in the prime of his 
 life, in his fortieth 5'ear, read a paper in which he sketched the plan of a 
 " University Settlement in East London." " Something," he said, " must 
 be done to share with the poor the best gifts." Let University men become 
 the neighbours of the working poor, sharing their hfe, thinking out their 
 problems, learning from them the lessons of patience, fellowship, self- 
 sacrifice, and offering in response the help of their own education and 
 friendship. " This," he said, " will alleviate the sorrow and misery born 
 of class division and indifference. It will bring classes into relation ; it 
 will lead them to know and learn of one another, and those to whom it is 
 given wdl give." 
 
 I well remember the effect of those words, or rather of his personaUty. 
 There was no gush, no exaggeration, no claim to provide a solution of the 
 social problem. There was simply the quiet and earnest appeal of an 
 Oxford man busy in the service of the people to other Oxford men to 
 " come and see," to learn the needs by sharing the life of that, to us, 
 strange and dim outer world of East London.' 
 
 It was in the rooms of Mr. Cosmo Lang ' that the under- 
 graduates first gathered to support the foundmg of a Settle- 
 ment to " enable men to live with the poor," and among the 
 undergraduates who pledged their aid were Mr. Bolton 
 Kmg,' Mr. P. Lyttelton GeU, Mr. J. E. KelsaU,* m. F. 
 S. Marvin," Mr. J. A. Spender, Mr. E. T. Cook'— men whose 
 generous hearts rose to meet the call, and whose gifts of 
 years of patient service have laid the foundations of the 
 Settlement movement all over the world. The committee 
 
 1 Stepney Welfare, July 1913. 
 ^ Archbishop o£ York. 
 
 3 Author of History of Italy; Director of Education, Warwickshire 
 County Council. 
 
 * Rector of New Milton, Hants. 
 
 ' His Majesty's Inspector of Schools. 
 
 • Sir Edward Cook, author of The Life of Riialcin and Mi^s Florence 
 Nightingale. 
 
ACCEPTANCE OF WARDENSHIP 311 
 
 formed out of Mr. Bali's and Mr. Cosmo Lang's meetings 
 soon grew in size and importance ; an Association ' was 
 formed, money was invested, and a Head sought who would 
 turn the ideal into tlie real. 
 
 Here was the difficulty. Such men as had been ijictured m Mr. Barnett's 
 article in The Nineteenth Century Review of l^ebruary 1 884 are not met with 
 every day ; and no inquiries seemed to discover the wanted man who 
 would be called upon to give all and expect nothing. 
 
 Mr. Barnett and 1 had spent eleven j'ears of hfe and work in Whitechapel. 
 We were weary. My health-stores were limited and often exhausted, and 
 family circumstances had given us larger means and opportunities for 
 travel. We were therefore desirous to tvtrn our backs on the passion and 
 poverty of East London, at least for a year, and take repose after work 
 which had aged and weakened us. But no other man was to be found who 
 would do the work ; and, if this child-thought was not to die, we must 
 undertake to try to rear it. 
 
 We went to the Mediterranean to consider the matter, and solemnly, 
 on a Sunday morning, made our decision. How well I recall the scene 
 as we sat at the end of the quaint harbour pier at Mentone, the blue waves 
 dancing at our feet, everything around scintUlating with light and move- 
 ment in contrast to the dull and dulling squalor of Whitechapel, which our 
 new decision would make our home for an indefinite spell of labour and 
 effort. ■" God help us," we said to each other ; and then we wired home to 
 obtain the refusal of the big Industrial School next to St. Jude's Vicarage, 
 which had recently been vacated, and which we thought to be a good site 
 for the first Settlement, and returned to try to hve up to the standard 
 which we had unwittingly set for ourselves in describing in the article the 
 unknown man who was wanted for Warden.^ 
 
 Neither was Cambridge behind Oxford in taking up the 
 new movement, and fche splendid work of the men she sent 
 to Whitechapel is told in Chapter xxxi. My husband 
 wrote a great deal on the future Settlement, and we both 
 lectured often on it, for it was difficult to explain what we 
 meant. In the Memorandum of Association its objects are 
 stated as follows : 
 
 To provide education and the means of recreation and enj oy ment for the 
 people of the poorer districts of London and other great cities ; to inquire 
 into the condition of the poor and to consider and advance plans calculated 
 to promote their welfare. To acquire by purchase or otherwise and to 
 maintain a house or houses for the residence of persons engaged in or con- 
 nected with philanthropic or educational work. 
 
 This sounds prosaic, and perhaps it is better explained as — 
 
 An association of persons, with different opinions and different 
 tastes ; its unity is that of variety ; its methods are spiritual 
 
 1 Incorporated under Section 23 of the Companies Act, 1867. 
 ' " The Beginnings of Toynbee Hall," by Mrs. S. A. Barnett. 
 
312 WHAT A SETTLEMENT IS 
 
 rather than material ; it aims at permeation rather than con- 
 version ; and its trust is in friends linked to friends rather than 
 in organisation. . . 
 
 On another occasion Mr. Barnett wrote ^ : 
 
 The men who settle may either take rooms by themselves, or 
 they may associate themselves in a Settlement. There is some- 
 thing to be said for each plan. The advantage of a Settlement is 
 that a body of University men living together keep up the 
 distinctive characteristics of their training, they better resist the 
 tendency to put on the universal drab, and they bring a variety 
 into their neighbourhood. They are helped, too, by the com- 
 panionship of their fellows, to take larger views of what is wanted 
 their enthusiasm for progress is kept alive, and at the same time 
 well i^runed by friendly and severe criticism. 
 
 But whether men hve in lodgings or in Settlements, there is 
 one necessary condition besides that of social interest if they are 
 to be successful in uniting knowledge and industry in social 
 reform. They must live their own life. There must be no 
 affectation of asceticism, and no consciousness of superiority. 
 They must show forth the taste, the mind, and the faith that is 
 in them. They have not come as " mission ers," they have come 
 to settle, that is, to learn as much as to teach, to receive as much 
 as to give. There is nothing like contact for giving or getting 
 understanding. There is no Lecture and no book so effective as 
 life. Culture spreads by contact. University men who are 
 known as neighbours, who are met in the streets, in the clubs, 
 and on committees, who can be visited in their own rooms, amid 
 their own books and pictures, commend what the University 
 stands for as it cannot otherwise be commended. 
 
 On the other hand, workmen who are casually and frequently 
 met, whose idle words become familiar, whose homes are known, 
 reveal the workman mind as it is not revealed by clever essayists 
 or by orators of their own class. The friendship of one man of 
 knowledge and one man of industry may go but a small way to 
 bring together the Universities and the working classes, but it is 
 such friendship which prepares the way for the understanding 
 which underlies co-operation. 
 
 If misunderstanding is war, understanding is peace. 
 
 The manifold nature of the new Settlement made it all 
 the more difficult to find a name for it — one that would 
 suggest thought and yet not designate a policy. My article 
 tells why we decided to call it Toynbee Hall : 
 
 '■ The University Review, 1905. 
 
TOYNBEE HALL NAMED 313 
 
 The 10th of March, 1884, was a Sunday, and Balliol Chapel was filled 
 with a splendid body of men who had come in loving memory of Arnold 
 Toynbee, on the anniversary of his death. Mr. Jowett had asked my 
 liusband to preach to tliem, and they listened intently, soparatmg almost 
 silently at the chapel porch, iiUed by the aspiration to copy Arnold in 
 carhig much, if not doing much, for those who had fallen by the way or were 
 " vacant of our glorious gains." . . . 
 
 As 1 sat on that Sunday afternoon in the chapel, one of the few women 
 among the crowd of strong- brained, clean-living men, the thought flashed 
 to me, " Let us call the Settlement Toynbee Hall." To Mr. Bolton King, 
 the honorary secretary of the committee, had come the same idea, and it 
 findmg favour with the committee, our new Settlement received its name 
 before a brick was laid or the plans concluded. 
 
 On the first day of July, 1884, the workmen began to pull down the old 
 Industrial School, and to adapt such of it as was possible for the new uses ; 
 and on Christmas Eve, 1884, the first settlers, Mr. H. D. Leigh of Corpus, 
 and Mr. C. H. Grinling of Hertford, slept in Toynbee Hall, quickly foUowed 
 by thirteen residents, some of whom had been living in the neighbourhood 
 of Whitechapel. 
 
 From that day until the duties of war scattered the 
 Residents it is true that — 
 
 The succession has never failed. Men of varied opinions and many views, 
 both poUtical and religious, have lived harmoniously together, some staying 
 as long as fifteen years, others remaining shorter periods. All have left 
 behind them marks of their residence ; sometimes in the pohcy of the 
 local Boards, of wliich they have become members ; or in relation to the 
 Student residences ; or the Antiquarian, Natural History, or Travelling 
 Clubs which individuals among them have founded ; or by busying them- 
 selves with classes, debates, conferences, discussions. 
 
 Their activities have been unceasing and manifold, but looking over 
 many years and many men it seems to my womanly mind that the best 
 work has been done by those men who have cared most deeply for indi- 
 viduals among the poor. Out of such deep care has grown intimate know- 
 ledge of their fives and industrial position, and from knowledge has come 
 improvement in laws, conditions, or administration. It is such care that 
 has awakened ui the people the desire to seek what is best. It is the care 
 of those who, loving God, have taught others to know Him. It is the care 
 of those who, pursuing knowledge and rejoicing in learning, have spread 
 it among the ignorant more effectively than books, classes, or lectures could 
 have done. It is the care for the degraded which alone rouses them to 
 care for themselves. It is the care for the sickly, the weak, the oppressed, 
 the rich, the powerful, the happy, the teacher and taught, the employed 
 and the employer, which enables introduction to be made and interpreta- 
 tion of each other to be offered and accepted. From this seed of deep 
 individual care has grown a large crop of friendship, and many flowers of 
 graceful acts. 
 
 -22 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 " When two or three meet together and, in the presence of the higher ideal 
 which appears in their midst, see the ignorance or the suffering or the sin which 
 is round, they cannot help starting the machinery by which that goodwill may 
 become effective." 
 
 In March 1884 Mr. Barnett wrote to his brother : 
 
 The event of the week has been the settlement of the Settle- 
 ment. The premises have been bought for £6,250, a committee 
 has been formed, and one Oxford Fellow has given £1,000. . . 
 We shall have rooms for 16 men, a class-room for 300 students, 
 large dining-room, conversation-room, and drawing-room. It 
 will be fvui doing the architect work. I inherit the father's 
 delight in building. . . Hoole's plans are attractive, and we shall 
 have put up a manorial residence in Whitechapel. . . Do not be 
 anxious. The Settlement will not add to the hardness of life — 
 in some ways it is hkely to bring ease. We shall hve in space, 
 comfort, and quiet, and we shall have about us the salt of the 
 earth in the shape of Oxford men. I am not at all frightened for 
 myself and go at it eagerly. I am more anxious about my wife, 
 on whom the burden of housekeeping will fall, and more enter- 
 taining, and whose sjrmpathies will be strauied by a still larger 
 circle of those making demands on her. More and more I think 
 depends on her. 
 
 In Miss Townsend's reminiscences she said : 
 
 Perhaps the most memorable holiday I ever spent was with Canon, and 
 Mrs. Barnett in Yorlishire in 1884 — for it was during our long walks on the 
 moors round Ilkley that they planned the future of Toynbee HaU. In the 
 intervals of this epoch-making converse, we went picnics in their quaint 
 httle two-wheeled carriage drawn by Miss Shaw Lefevre's fat pony 
 " Tommy." As far as I remember we walked up the hills and down the 
 hULs, and Tommy drew us (also walking) along the few stretches of level 
 road. . . 
 
 Such simple pleasures as these " seasoned by sweet converse " were the 
 best relief from the toil and weariness of Whitechapel, and make happy 
 memories for old age. 
 
 Indeed we had many subjects for hard talk as well as 
 "sweet converse." My husband believed whole-heartedly 
 
 314 
 
GOVERNMENT BY RESIDENTS 315 
 
 in democratic control, and meant that Toynbee Hall should 
 manage itself ; but in a pioneer scheme the direction of the 
 lines had to be indicated, the goal visualised, and so the 
 standard of furnishing and staffing, the uses of the rooms, 
 and many practical matters had to be decided. As soon as 
 the thirteen Residents came in, they and the Warden formed 
 what was called in irony the " Grand " Committee, and to it 
 every subject was referred, from the acceptance of Residents 
 to the taking of Punch. By its members " with power to 
 add to their number," separate committees were formed 
 for entertamment and finance, while the old education 
 committee of St. Jude's got fresh life and was added to the 
 Toynbeo organisation. 
 
 Very odd were some of the decisions of " Grand " Com- 
 mittee. No one was to have soup who did not appear at 
 dinner while it was being served, and I have seen learned 
 professors and " double honour " men run up the long 
 dming-room, and the Warden linger over the ladling with 
 mischief in his eyes, to enable them to scramble into their 
 seats before the tall parlour-maid whisked the tureen off 
 the table. Three breakfasts were served hot at stated hours, 
 and then a comic flag was solemnly hoisted, after which no 
 one was allowed breakfast except on payment of a pro- 
 hibitive fine. Dinners and luncheons were taken at a long 
 table, but " Grand " decided no one was good enough to 
 breakfast together and so small separate tables were used 
 for the first meal. The arrangements were often altered. 
 Spartan rules were occasionally issued on early tennis, 
 hours for lights out, or limitation of service, and then 
 " Grand " would be leavened by a more lenient spirit, and 
 votes were passed for greater laxity, and another course 
 added at dinner. Through all the twenty -two years, 1884- 
 1906, that my husband presided over " Grand," there were, 
 however, two matters on which the decisions were never 
 reversed. One was dancing and the other was Sunday 
 lawn tennis. Every year the latter came up and every year 
 it was vetoed — a curious decision by a body of men who 
 duruig those years included Churchmen, Roman Catholics, 
 Nonconformists, Jews, Quakers, and Agnostics. 
 
 The planning of the Residents' work was greatly enjoyed 
 by Mr. Barnett, whose powers for discernment of character 
 and organisation of capacities and effort had full play. Once 
 a week every Resident came for half an hour's " talk " 
 with the Warden in his study, half-hours in which ideals 
 
316 TALKS IN THE STUDY 
 
 were conceived and schemes born. How some of the 
 men thought about those " talks " can be best told by 
 themselves. 
 
 Mr. Alfred Spender wrote : 
 
 1 look back on years spent in Toynbee Hall in the early days, and think 
 with admiration of his wisdom, kindness, and good sense in dealing with 
 young men. How easUy in imwise hands the thing might have become 
 priggery and absurdity 1 But Bamett had qualities of simplicity and 
 directness which made the life natural and neighbourly, and banished all 
 self-consciousness and superiority. You were encom'aged to go on with 
 your profession, if you had one, and to give what time you could to the work 
 of the Settlement. It was somehow made impossible for you to think 
 that you were doing anything out of the common or conferring any obliga- 
 tion by living in the Bast End. The Warden, with his ripe experience and 
 wide iufluence, treated you as an equal, never preached or scolded, listened 
 tolerantly to the crudest ideas, and found unsuspected cores of wisdom 
 in them. He dropped little aphorisms which penetrated, but never ham- 
 mered them into commonplace. . . 
 
 Bamett encouraged his young men to see for themselves, and, having 
 seen, to form positive ideas of what was to be done. Positive ideas were 
 always his demand. . . His talk was often mystical and sometimes it 
 seemed nebulous ; he believed that the need was to " spiritualise life," 
 and " spiritual things," as he conceived them, were beyond definition 
 though within reach of feeling. But always he came back to the practical. 
 . . . The good feehng must materialise in something which it needed a cool 
 brain to think out. There was no better critic living of schemes in the air, 
 and I can see him still in my mind's eye applying that gentle Socratio 
 method — so oarefiil not to hurt your feelings, but so obviously wise and 
 experienced — to the well-meant impracticable notions in which generous 
 youth abounds. 
 
 How often in coniidential talks at the Warden's Lodge one's eyes 
 strayed to the legend which was written over the fireplace — " Fear not to 
 sow because of the Birds " ! I can see it now, as I still see the room, and 
 Bamett in his characteristic attitude, leaning forward and clasping his 
 knee. He was a vaUant sower, and scattered his seed with a fine sweep 
 over a wide stretch of country. He had none of the sectarian feelings of the 
 professional philanthropist. He was at peace with Church and Salvation 
 Army, with Socialist and Charity Organisationist. He looked for the right 
 spirit and had faith that the right method would follow. . .' 
 
 Mr. T. Harvey Darton adds his testimony : 
 
 November 23rd, 1917. — I remember so well the mixture of enthusiasm and 
 clearheadedness with which one left his study at Toynbee, I felt myself 
 that the whole world ought to be conquered, and could be conquered, and 
 yet — what was most surprising to a young man as I was then — that 
 common sense and tolerance were at least as necessary as enthusiasm. But 
 it was the enthusiasm that really mattered. . . Everyone, but most of 
 all the newer generations, need that wonderful sanity of the Canon's, which 
 you have so well brought out in Vision and Service. 
 
 I The Westminster Gazette, June 19th, 1913. • 
 
OPINIONS OF RESIDENTS 317 
 
 Mr. T. Edmund Harvey, who lived in Toynbeo nearly 
 eight years, during five of which he was the Warden, wrote : 
 
 There was something which touched the heart of youth m Canon Barnett'a 
 humility of spirit which made him eager to share a young man's thoughts 
 and hopes, to talk and plan with him side by side in the true spirit of 
 comradeship. . . 
 
 The Idndly name by which he was long familiar to the inner circle of 
 Residents at Toynbee Hall was no idle one ; he was " the prophet " for us, 
 and for a far wider world, in his vision of individual and national needs, 
 of the sundered lives of rich and poor, selfishness and ignorance keeping 
 them apart, of the way of reconciliation through mutual knowledge, sacri- 
 fice, and co-operation, in his interpretation of the life and spirit of the 
 Master Whom he served. 
 
 Professor E. J. Urwick, who acted as Sub-Warden and 
 lived with us many years, has said : 
 
 Men and women of any age and class went to him for counsel. He was 
 their equal comrade always, however raw and crude and siUy they might be. 
 And his very powers of mind helped, and did not hinder, this sympathy. 
 Perhaps the greatest of his powers was that of crystallising in a phrase 
 the feeling and thought which most of us spend pages to express. . . But 
 this power he used most to help the thoughts of others. We went to him 
 in a tangle, hardly knowing what we felt or meant. We came away clear, 
 our decisions focussed by his simple yet profound suggestions. 
 
 Another characteristic added both to his power and to his lovableness. 
 He was always young, and met every change of condition, every new 
 combination of circumstances, with the vigour, freshness, and elasticity of 
 youth. He was not afraid, therefore, to be inconsistent. His social and 
 political views were not fixed, except in their normal foundations ; he was a 
 progressive as naturally as some people are conservatives. 
 
 My husband's methods of dealing with individuals may 
 be illustrated by a talk between two Toynbee men. 
 
 " Is Barnett sincere ? " asked the elder, a man about 
 thirty years old, who had recently come into residence. " He 
 seemed to flatter one." 
 
 " Did he ? '- was the reply of the Resident who knew 
 my husband intimately. "If you think, you will see his 
 ' flattery ' consisted in expecting great things from you." 
 
 In June 1913, when the news that my husband had left 
 this world was flashed to all parts of it, that man wrote from 
 a distant colony telling me of his grief, and added, 
 
 ' ' He seemed to re-discover all sorts of my abandoned hopes 
 and forgotten ideals and constrain me to work for them." 
 
 The critics of my husband sometimes accused him of want 
 of directness, and said he was "all things to all men," 
 astutely perceiving and usmg the weakness of human 
 
318 OTHER PEOPLE'S POINT OF VIEW 
 
 character to further the ends he had in view. It was one of 
 the little greatnesses of his daily life, that whenever and by 
 whomsoever he had a fault pointed out to him, whether in 
 the Press or privately, and however rudely or unsym- 
 pathetically, he always said, " Now let us see what truth 
 there is in that." His example I will follow, and recognise 
 that there was a certain truth in his critics' statements. 
 
 When we were in Japan we saw in the Temple at Naygoya 
 the portrait of some great man — I forget who it was — m 
 which the artist had, as an act of homage, depicted the sur- 
 roundings as the great man would see them and not as the 
 spectator of the portrait. This was specially noticeable in 
 the floor-cloth, where the lines reversed all the rules of 
 perspective. 
 
 " Husband," I said, "that's how you see things, always 
 from the other person's point of view." 
 
 At the time he only laughed, for our object then was 
 to arrive at the Japanese point of view, but the picture 
 was often referred to. In his early manhood he deliberately 
 and with effort of imagination put himself in other people's 
 places when they sought his advice ; but later, as more and 
 more people came around us, it became a habit of mind, and 
 very tiresome I have found it. If difficulties arose with the 
 household staff — and during the Toynbee days those for 
 whom I was responsible numbered twenty-seven — he would 
 argue vividly in defence of their delinquencies, and he so 
 absolutely identified me with himself that I used laughingly 
 to tell him that if any one struck Ma right cheek he promptly 
 turned my left one — an action which in staff management 
 did not always tend towards the upholding of discipline. 
 
 But if he had to rebuke the wrong-doer — which he always 
 did alone — the effect was remarkable. To convict a soul of 
 sin was, he thought, the best help one human being could 
 give to another, and believing, as he did, that the core of 
 every heart turned towards righteousness, and with the 
 trained capacity of understanding another's outlook, he 
 was able to grip then- very beings, reveal to themselves 
 their aspirations, and set them in repentance on the road 
 to the attainment thereof. 
 
 " How did you manage it ? " " What did you do ? " I 
 used to ask when subsequent conduct showed a chastened 
 offender. 
 
 " Only dealt faithfully with!^him," was his summary, often 
 followed by a detailed account of all that had passed, with 
 
INDIFFERENCE TO CREDIT 319 
 
 unexpected illumination in dark corners, enabling the ex- 
 ternal stumbling-blocks to be removed. Truth compels me 
 to add that the effect was not always permanent. My hus- 
 band had, by the force of his longing for the fulfilment of the 
 best in everybody, not only the power of probing, but a 
 stimulatmg and controlling influence. This was so strong 
 that often, when people were with Canon Barnett, they 
 really were what he wanted them to be, and which he there- 
 fore believed them to be. 
 
 " You do not know him as he is ; you have never seen him 
 when you are not there," I would say, and sometimes he 
 would be startled into reconsideration of the character, but 
 usually he returned to trust in his own insight of potentiali- 
 ties, and would remind me that " He that belie veth doth 
 not make haste." 
 
 If it is understood that these characteristics were also 
 active when he was dealing with his peers in their joint 
 pursuit of public good, it may do somethmg to explain the 
 objections of his critics. Mr. Barnett never stated what he 
 wanted until he had seen the goal of the other men, and then 
 he usually guided them, often by interjected questions, until 
 someone proposed what he aimed at. 
 
 "So-and-so proposed it; he thought it was his own 
 idea," he would tell me. 
 
 " But it was not true," I would say. " That man could 
 not have conceived that idea." 
 
 " He has got it now, anyhow," he would reply, " and will 
 work for its realisation more, if he thinks he originated it." 
 
 Again, he was entirely free from jealousy, and quite 
 indifferent as to who obtained the credit for his good deeds 
 or original thoughts. This did not lessen the di£6.culty, 
 because when the Toynbee Hall work became well known, 
 to him was offered the appreciation due to the work of many 
 men. This also did not trouble him, not because he wanted 
 the honour and glory tendered to accomplishment, but 
 because he felt them to be of no consequence. More than 
 once, when smaller people have remonstrated on not being 
 recognised, he has striven to tender to them public thanks, 
 but sometimes so clumsily that his words evoked suspicion. 
 He was offering what he himself felt to be valueless. This 
 may be elucidated by some words in the Survey of Mr. 
 Robert A. Woods, who lived in Toynbee before he began 
 his work as Director of the South End House, Boston, 
 U.S.A. : 
 
320 "ONE BY ONE" 
 
 All that Toynbee Hall has achieved and suggested was the clear result 
 of the ever-pervasive influence of a character placid, almost artless ; far- 
 sighted, clearly convinced, soundly discriminating ; forgetful of self to 
 the extent of forgetting that he had forgotten, but seeing the dignity of all 
 his work in the largest bearing upon the nation and, almost from moment 
 to moment, in its meaning to men as sons of God. 
 
 Many organisations grew from those " talks in the study " 
 with Residents. Indeed the hundreds of Journals and 
 Records that stand on my book-shelves but very in- 
 adequately report their conception, growth, development, 
 success, or failure. The purposes of them all were the same — 
 to increase knowledge and to create friendship ; in short, 
 to learn about God and to love men. The methods were 
 diverse, so much so that the purposes were sometimes 
 hidden ; but Mr. Barnett did not believe in frontal attacks, 
 and people had been so preached at, that direct teaching was 
 shunned. 
 
 In the 1889 Report it is stated : 
 
 In the recently published work on the Labour and Life of the People of 
 East London, Mr. Charles Booth illustrates the " amount of life set and 
 kept in motion at Toynbee Hall" by giving the actual " bill of fare " for 
 a single week " taken haphazard." It occupies nearly two pages in his 
 volume, and includes ten Lectures (of which four were connected with the 
 University Extension Society), nine Reading Parties, the meetings of two 
 Literary Societies, 35 Classes of various kinds, a concert, a party to Boy 
 Foresters, another party to those attending Recreative Everung Classes, 
 the Annual Meeting of the Pupil Teachers' Association, and, as a standing 
 dish, the Library. Prom October until Easter " something of the kind 
 goes on every week." The character of the engagements changes some- 
 what during the summer months ; out-door excursions, for instance, are 
 more frequent, the open-air concerts m the Quadrangle take the place of 
 concerts in the Lecture Hall. 
 
 Some words of the Warden show what he felt to be more 
 important than work which could be tabulated : 
 
 If, however, a list could be given of all that has been done, 
 a very inadequate idea of the work of the Residents would 
 be left. " One by one" is the phrase wliich best expresses our 
 method, and the " raising of the buried life " is that which best 
 expresses our end. Of method and end it is as yet too soon to 
 judge, but I would ask that no one should either ]oraise or blame 
 us on account of what is seen. Our real work lies below these 
 classes, systems, and entertainments, as our real object is far 
 beyond the success which is measured by numbers and comfort. 
 The Residents have all alike felt it to be a privilege to come in 
 
MANY RESPONSIBILITIES 321 
 
 close contact with those they have been able to serve, and they 
 have been humbled by the welcome they have met. . . A man 
 teaches what he himself knows. Of those who use the same 
 means some have breathed the spirit which rouses the spirit of 
 others to know and love God. . . 
 
 And through all his work ran the permeating thought — 
 
 '"Tis just the many mindless mass 
 That most needs helping." 
 
 The magnitude of the responsibility which was borne by 
 one man will be better realised, when it is remembered that 
 to Mr. Booth's summary must be added the Warden's 
 interest in all sorts of educational activities, the work 
 involved by the Art Exhibitions, his position as a Guardian 
 in the Poor Law administration, the Children's Country 
 Holiday Fund, and housing reform, as well as the ever- 
 ramifying machinery of the parish, with its degraded 
 population. That he felt not only its weight but his inability 
 to do justice to all the branches of the work, some extracts 
 from his letters to his brother wiU show : 
 
 October 6th, 1888. — A very busy week is over and we are both 
 well. . . All things are going fairly, none of them climbing. 
 Some more workers were yoked on, but none, I fear, with the 
 wings which assist bodies along the upward plane. On Wednes- 
 day we received people all day long ; we are going to revive oiu- 
 Weekly " At Homes." As it is, many come on everj' day, and 
 often neither of us get out. As we look back on this week we 
 are conscious that any one thing which has taken one-hundredth 
 part of us might have absorbed the whole. Schools, institutions, 
 the indi^aduals, want all our thought and time to make them even 
 what we see they might be. Heigho ! 
 
 ToYiTBBB Hall, Whttbohapel, October 3rd, 1896. 
 
 To F. O. B. — Here we are settled down as if we had never 
 tossed on the sea or walked about Moscow. It is pleasant to 
 
 come home, but even friendship's weight is heavy. Y is 
 
 again better to-day and so far ready to receive our 1 ,500 guests. 
 Lord Peel, and Sir Charles and Lady Elliott from India, dine 
 with us. It is tiring to come home and try to get one's shoulder 
 under all things while they move. One feels as if the burden 
 were not all on, and one expects to hear of losses. However, 
 I thinlc all seems right. I had a long pull with all the 
 Committees on Monday. . . Strange is the weariness which 
 follows home-coming. I don't know if it is the different air or 
 the sense of endless affairs^which seems to be attached to 
 
322 WHAT MEN DID AT TOYNBEE 
 
 everyone we interview ; anyhow, we have felt very tired and 
 my wife's good looks have gone ! . . . 
 
 It was the Warden's plan to arrange that the men, as 
 they joined us, should see many branches of the Tojnibee 
 and St. Jude's organisation, before they decided where they 
 would be most useful, by sjntnpathy as weU as by service, 
 and as they told of their experiences he was able to appraise 
 qualities, tastes, and powers. Some records of their work, 
 written by three early Residents for the 1886 Report at the 
 request of the Chairman of the Council, Mr. Philip L3^telton 
 Gell, are interesting, but as the writers wished to preserve 
 their anonymity, I cannot add to the interest by giving 
 their names, some of them now both great and celebrated. 
 
 1 . The first week at Toynbee Hall is always, I imagine, attended by a feel- 
 ing that one is out of regular work and reduced to jobs. Such at any rate 
 was my experience when I arrived last October, and was sent to play whist 
 at the " Whittington " Club, to canvass for the School Board election, and 
 then handed over to the " Sanitary Aid " to learn the nature of beU-traps 
 and dust-bins. When, however, I began to feel my feet, my energies were 
 transferred to the Charity Organisation Societj', and my weekly programme 
 began to shape itself into definite form. 
 
 2. My mornings were devoted to reading and private coaching, but 
 my afternoons till Friday were spent in visitmg in Limehouse. Monday 
 evening was first set down for a class at the " Whittington." This was at 
 9 o'clock, but I generally spent some time beforehand in chat with the 
 boys. Afterwards came Mrs. Bamett's weekly " At Home," at which we 
 have had many most enj oyable discussions. When the Whittington classes 
 were reconstituted I relinquished my elementary class for a share in a 
 dramatic class on Wednesday. Tuesday was nominally my free evening, 
 but actually was spent usually in assisting at the entertainments, con- 
 versaziones, at Toynbee HaU, whenever my services either at the piano or 
 otherwise might be required. On Wednesday I have a literature class for 
 pupQ teachers, and my Thiirsday evening is pleasantly spent in assisting 
 at the Boys' Club. 
 
 3. What do we do at Tojoibee 7 I should say that we see Ufe under vary- 
 ing conditions and new aspects, and attempt to partake in the life we see. 
 We learn much ; we unlearn more. We have too — and this is the most 
 important of all — we have the opportunity not merely of enlarging our 
 sympathies, of gaining broader views and a more catholic standpoint, but 
 of building up a new system of relationship side by side with our old, of 
 forming round the Hall a new world of student-friends and guest-friends, 
 acting and reacting on one another, by whose means refinement and know- 
 ledge may pass electrically as from friend to friend, and not professionally 
 as from tutor to pupil. 
 
 As years went on and increased numbers of those who 
 cared for social well-being joined us, the performance of 
 
ONE OF THE WARDEN'S DAYS 323 
 
 specific acts of charity took a secondary place, in proportion 
 to the value of accumulated experience and its consequent 
 birth of fresh intentions. The Toynbee Hall Report said : 
 
 The Prime Minister ^ in later days spoke of Toynbee Hall as a social 
 laboratory, and under Canon Barnett's guidance it performed that office 
 supremely well for a large number of young men who were going into 
 pubUc or official life or into journalism, or who were presently to make 
 careers in new countries. They saw and realised at first hand a great many 
 things which other people only know from books and hearsay. A man 
 whose experience it has been to visit and take precise notes of a thousand 
 slum houses condemned as uninhabitable by medical officers, will think 
 or write of the housing question very differently from the man who has 
 only read the details in Blue-books. 
 
 As I write, I feel how impossible it is to represent the 
 " go " of the place, the sense of alert, pregnant life, the hopes 
 that glorified mundane action, the scintillating activity that 
 kept all sweet. 
 
 It is not easy even to convey the facts, but when I was 
 away fil, my husband always told me all he had done, and 
 perhaps one of his letters will give some idea of his daily 
 output : 
 
 As to yesterday : 
 
 1 . Buckland ; talk re his own work and entertainment policy. 
 
 2. Fagan ; talk re work with C.O.S. and his reading. 
 
 3. Bullock ; talk re a friend in distress — his work. 
 
 4. A French Abbe about a friend who would go into Balliol 
 
 House. 
 
 5. Kemp Welch ; re a defaulter in Balliol House and county 
 
 court proceeduigs, also re Exhibition. 
 
 6. Peppin ; letters re Settlements' Conference, scheme for 
 
 Rathbone. 
 
 7. Courtney Kenny ; re Kittle. 
 
 8. Courtneys ; re young Lionel Curtis — New Coll. — as their 
 
 possible Secretary. 
 D. Ball ; re Sanitary Council and Whitechapel authorities. 
 
 10. Miss Coker ; re pictures and gas fights. 
 
 11. Budgett — a new Resident. Right sort — comes on Monday. 
 
 12. Hart and Mrs. Lobb ; re class for former in afternoon school. 
 
 13. Miss Turriff ; re house for Cheltenham ladies. 
 
 The afternoon went in seeing : 
 
 1 . Pond of Chicago. I gave him tea and he drank my cocoa ! 
 
 2. Jackson, to say good-bye which is put off now till to- 
 
 morrow. Sorry to miss you. 
 
 1 Mr. H. H. Asquith. 
 
324 ONE OF THE WARDEN'S WEEKS 
 
 3. Richards, to say he had passed first class and got his cer- 
 
 tificate. 
 
 4. Important and confidential talk with Mr. Rathbone re scheme 
 
 for Liverpool. 
 
 5. Harvey, doing well as cab-driver, earned 10s. a day last 
 
 week — disease no better. Good fellow. 
 
 In the evening : 
 
 1. I went into Toynbee and dined with Air. and Mrs. Fresh- 
 
 field. Twenty-three men to dinner — settled plans with 
 Haw re George Yard and Biden re his scheme. 
 
 2. Received Howard Bliss, who has come to stay for a week. 
 
 3. Antiquarian party — fifty people, interested in their work. 
 
 4. I went into Exhibition and conducted a party round three 
 
 rooms, and 
 
 5. Returned to find your Worship Hour choir ia operation. 
 
 All well. 
 
 6. Interviewed Miss Z. It is £200 deficit. She is, I think, 
 
 getting more conscious that she is wrong. 
 
 7. Saw Tourell, who came with news of a legacy of £100 to the 
 
 Shoeblacks. 
 
 8. Saw X., who squeezed my brain until I was tired. 
 
 9. Went to bed and slept admirably. . . 
 
 I am just going into church, and would, before I go, have a 
 moment's communion with you. . . I feel your love, your truth, 
 your honesty. You are very dear, and I am glad to sit and think 
 of J^ou. Now take care of your body, cultivate stupidity, and 
 oh ! I do hope to get good news by Annie. And now I must 
 stop or I shall be late. . . S. A. B. 
 
 From Mr. Barnett's letters to his brother can also be 
 gathered some idea of our interesting if sometimes too 
 strenuous lives : 
 
 On Sunday I preached for Price Hughes at St. James's Hall. 
 I liked it in a way, and Hughes was paternal in the strength of 
 the fact that when lie preaches they turn thousands away. 
 
 On Monday the Liberal Three Hundred met, a good-looking lot 
 of fellows, more eager about names than about tilings, lovers of a 
 fight more than of a principle. There is something hollow about 
 politics, and I don't believe myself in this agitation against the 
 House of Lords. A moral agitation is like a war without bullets. 
 When people agitate they mean blows, and when they go to war 
 they mean killing. Lord Salisbury is so far right, but he is 
 making the House the object of blows when the day for blows does 
 come. The Three Hundred put me on all their committees. 
 
 On Tuesday Toynbee was very full. V/e had twenty Cam- 
 bridge men to dinner — two overflowing concerts — the dockers' 
 
THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE PLACE 325 
 
 meeting— a Co-operative Conference— and Z holding forth 
 
 on cruelty to cliildren. He is most efiective as a speaker, but 
 leaves one asking, " Is it true ? " The relation of Art to Truth 
 is still misolved. Truth without Art is not comprehended— 
 Truth with Art too often is lying. There must be a means by 
 which it is possible to convey the truth whicli is bigger than 
 \vords. We started all, and then went olF to a dull party in the 
 West End, in the vain hope of getting pictures. 
 
 On Wednesday we dined at the J-1 arts', met Mrs. A A 
 
 of Chicago — a beauty in jewels who took philantluropy in vain 
 and " drew " me to tell her that her sort would never help the 
 poor because of the beam which prevent them seeing the poor. 
 A plague on schemes and policies and institutions. If a dozen 
 people live rightly and neighbourly they are worth more than 
 many organisations. Harry Furniss was there and we had 
 some talk about America. He is going to make merry in his 
 sketches over their weaknesses. 
 
 Frederic Harrison was also there and we heard how he is 
 disappomted in the Labour members and the County Coimcil. 
 Of course you have seen the Trades Union debate. Oh for 
 backbone somewhere on either side ! We went on to Lord 
 Brassey's and met Lord Cross, Lord Aberdeen, Sir H. Cunning- 
 ham, and some other interesting folk. 
 
 Thursday went in daily duty, and as Toynbee is full all my long 
 mornings go in seeing men. The wife went to her Board of 
 Guardians in the afternoon, and in the evening we had two big 
 parties as well as the smoking debate and the usual classes. Sir 
 Harry Verney, who is nearly ninety, came to the debate. Mac- 
 namara was also with us. We hke him. He is rough, vigorous, 
 uncultured, but he is human. 
 
 On Friday we had a choir party and enjoyed the simple 
 pleasure of entertaining our own simple folk, and got late up 
 here [Hampstead]. 
 
 To-day we have had a four hours' drive in the spring sunsliine 
 which did us good. We talked round our plans. 
 
 And in order to realise the atmosphere of the place, to the 
 Warden's work must be added that of the eighteen Residents, 
 the ever-increasing group of Associates, and later the fifty- 
 nine inhabitants of VVadham and BaUiol Houses, to all of 
 whom my husband gave, not only sympathy but detailed 
 direction and large-visioned inspiration. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 " The 'problem which is haunting this generation is how to spiritualise the 
 forces which are shaping the future . . . how to open channels between eternal 
 sources and every days need.^' 
 
 When I recall the degradation of the majority of the popula- 
 tion of our parish in 1873 I marvel at my husband's faith 
 which compelled him to provide opportunities for higher 
 education in our schools. Before me lie handbills, brown 
 with age, which set out that classes in singing, violin, litera- 
 ture, drawing, carpentering, modelling, French, German, 
 shorthand, book-keeping for women, musical driU, Latin, 
 arithmetic, and English composition, wiU be held in the 
 schools, and that " teaching on physiology " will be given 
 by Mrs. Ernest Hart. 
 
 They were very trying, some of those early students : 
 young ladies whose affectations when " seeking crdtiva- 
 tion " made one long to shake them ; prigs who quoted 
 Browning on aU occasions ; excellent persons whose 
 little learning made them mad- — with conceit ; pretentious 
 youths who patronised all who had not read the few books 
 they had perused, and who kUled by bad manners the belief 
 that education made equality. Oh ! how difficult they were, 
 and with them aU Mr. Barnett was patient, pointing out the 
 heroic determination which made them turn to mental work 
 after perhaps ten hours in the factory or behind the counter, 
 or still longer days of domestic drudgery ; and discovering 
 in each qualities which would live longer than the attendant 
 irritations. And he was right, for I count still among my 
 valued friends some of the most annoying ; and others 
 recovering their mtellectual balance saw themselves in their 
 right perspective, when the Toynbee men unconsciously 
 taught them nobler standards. 
 
 Soon after Toynbee HaU was built, the classes were trans- 
 ferred to its care. 
 
 326 
 
CLASSES IN ST. JUDE'S 327 
 
 1887. — If it be true that men learn more indirectly tlian 
 directly, that they pick up more than they are taught, then it 
 must be wise to group together various good and elevating 
 iirfluences. It may be that the student who comes to learn 
 carpentering will pick up from the history teacher or a fellow- 
 student the knowledge which will rouse Ms sleeping energies, 
 or that one coming " to grind " may stop to enjoy, as he finds 
 in the companionship of books, or in the presence of the cultured, 
 the better reasons which make life worth hving. 
 
 Of these classes two of the Toynbee men gave accounts : 
 
 1886. — My Political Economy class consists of about a dozen of the best 
 sort of working men, steady, thrifty, interested in the improvement of their 
 order. They bring to discussions a good practical knowledge and common 
 sense, and I my book-knowledge of the subject. Between my ounce of 
 theory and their pound of practice we have some very interesting talks. 
 I suppose my wider range is some small contribution to the subject, at any 
 rate we are always open to discuss " any point at any distance from that 
 point." At present the class is going through Marshall's Economics of 
 Industry. These men have formed the nucleus of a considerably larger 
 body of working men whom I am interesting in Relief and Education. In 
 both of these lines they have done this year plenty of good sohd work that 
 has filled me with admiration, 
 
 1886. — As I was engaged all day reading in chambers, my leisure time 
 was the evening. Before leaving Oxford 1 had arranged to take two reading 
 parties at Toynbee Hall, one in Latin, and another in English Literature. 
 . . . Soon some of the Latin class expressed a wish to learn Greek, so I 
 added a third class. AU three classes went on till well into the summer. 
 Of the Latin and Greek class the majority were of the lower middle class — 
 but one was a pupil teacher and one a foreman at the docks. In the 
 Tennyson class I had a journeyman woodcarver, who also joined the "Hume 
 and Herbert Spencer " reading party which I formed somewhat later. . . 
 It is stiU flourishing with a majority of the same members with whom it 
 started, and is at present in the throes of a final grapple with " Transfigured 
 Bealism," and hopes soon to emerge into the humaner sphere of the ethical 
 speculation. 
 
 The number of classes increased rapidly, and how to find 
 room for them was a continual puzzle over which my husband, 
 the Sub- Warden, the secretary, and the housekeeper and I 
 " continually did cry." Some of the men solved the problem 
 by taking their classes into their bedrooms, but two chairs 
 were insufficient, and to the weekly washmg of counterpanes 
 and the presence of uninvited and wandering guests the 
 housekeeper objected. Then the noises of the respective 
 classes was a real difficulty which could not be ignored, and 
 it was a proud hour when we unanimously voted the Warden 
 " king of domestic organisations " because he thought of 
 
328 CLASSES IN TOYNBEE HALL 
 
 sandwiching the deaf and dumb class between those for 
 the violin and musical drill. 
 
 1886. — Among other classes is that for the deaf and dumb. 
 It would be helj^ful if those who possess pictures would lend them, 
 and thus send the best message through the eyes to those who 
 camiot hear. These people need specially to be taught the joy 
 of miseltishness ; it is one of the privileges of the " hearing " 
 that they can feel more easily for others. 
 
 For one term the exigencies of space compelled the band 
 to practise in the church tower, and it was great fun to 
 watch the people in the street. Some passed too sodden with 
 indifference to notice anythmg, but the expression of others 
 who looked upward with surprised and sceptical wonder 
 seeking the genesis of those heavenly strains was delicious. 
 And some stopped to enjoy it ! 
 
 On certain occasions our comparatively limited accommo- 
 dation — and must I add the looseness of our discipline of 
 organisations ? — resulted in offence ; as for instance when the 
 same room had been lent to two sets of classes, and one 
 group had to retue ; or when a party of hilarious children had 
 been unthinkingly allotted the room next to a meeting which 
 needed quiet ; but the atmosphere of the whole place was so 
 friendly and hospitable that usually such contretemps only 
 elicited good feelmg. 
 
 I could write many stories of these classes : of the in- 
 genuity of these " untrained " teachers who used their wider 
 knowledge to awaken dull brains, who stirred sleeping public 
 spirit by visions of ideal conditions, who killed self-content by 
 the modesty of real proficiency. I could tell of friendship 
 which transcended all barriers, and human relations too deep 
 to die ; I could speak of a hundred acts of kindly neighbour- 
 liness betwen class members, and also of some tragedies ; an 
 undue influence and financial dishonesty, a quarrel and the 
 alienation of half the class, an elopement born of broken 
 confidence. Silly and wilful girls sometimes made difficulty, 
 but such behaviour was not confined to one sex among the 
 students. The enamoured youths, the swains who refused 
 to be snubbed, and the appropriated men who allowed 
 themselves too much freedom, had also to be dealt with. To 
 them my husband gave higher standards and nobler goals 
 as they talked alone in his little study. But speaking broadly 
 with an experience of twenty-two years of Toynbee HaU life, 
 I am able to state that there was very little of this class of 
 
VOLUNTARY TEACHERS 329 
 
 trouble. The whole tone of the place was too strenuous to 
 permit it to take root, and the constant demand for more 
 volunteer help gave outlets for energy. 
 
 That all the workers and teachers were voluntary had its 
 debit as well as its credit side. To the former had to be 
 placed some hregularity, and the occasional dropping of a 
 class from inability to find another volunteer to carry it on ; 
 but on the credit side must be given the asset of enthusiasm 
 so infectious that it reached to the humblest member of the 
 class, and resulted in a large body of men and women, already 
 over-worked, offering additional evening labour to make 
 the advantages they enjoyed known by a wider chcle. 
 
 Mr. T. Hancock Nunn wrote : 
 
 We have a stafE of volunteers who at the beginning of each term " bill " 
 adjoining blocks of dwellings, places of business, public offices. . . 
 
 1902. — It must always be borne in mind that Whitechapel is 
 not peopled by students or would-be students. The ordinary 
 inhabitant has httle or no interest in any world outside his daily 
 life. To arouse such interest is not the least of the Education 
 Committee's duties. 
 
 When Polytechnics and other centres of teaching arose, 
 my husband and I visited them and were struck with envy 
 at their appliances and facilities, but only to return with 
 renewed admiration of our volunteers who could contrive 
 with so little machinery to achieve so much result. 
 
 1899. — Personal and voluntary service has, of course, its weak 
 side, but it is no small matter that by such service it has been 
 possible to organise a system of education with the names of 
 1,600 students on the register, and a set of reading parties where 
 the attendance has been 90 per cent. . . The volunteers are those 
 who, like the men of Gideon's band, have the zeal which can 
 restrain itself, which can, if need be, begin with a reading party 
 of two persons, and remain faithful tiU the two bring in ten 
 others, or which will be content to serve on a committee, or act 
 as a secretary, hopkig for nothing but to keep up fainting hearts, 
 or strengthen weak wills to regular attendance, and make every- 
 one conscious of his membership. . . When the place hums with 
 activity, as it often does on a winter's evening, the believers in 
 humanity may glow at the reflection that the work is almost 
 entirely voluntary, and that of the very few — not more than five 
 or six all told — who can be called officials, their service is out of 
 proportion to the pay they receive. Receipt of payment indeed 
 is proof neither for nor against a voluntary spirit. It is a test fit 
 
 1—23 
 
330 
 
 SUBJECTS TAUGHT 
 
 only for use by " the world's coarse thumb." But anyhow, it 
 is personal service — the life of individuals — which feeds Toynbee 
 Hall, and its one demand is for more lives. 
 
 No list can be complete, but the following were among 
 the classes which made the place hum with the activity 
 of which the Warden speaks : 
 
 Ambulance. 
 Ancient History. 
 Architecture. 
 Arithmetic. 
 Astronomy. 
 
 Bandaging. 
 
 Band of White and Gold. 
 
 Basket Work. 
 
 Bible Study. 
 
 Biology. 
 
 Book-keeping. 
 
 Botany. 
 
 Boys' Brigade. 
 
 Brass Band. 
 
 Browning's Works. 
 
 Browning's Teaching in Music. 
 
 Building Construction. 
 
 Cadet Corps. 
 
 Carpentering. 
 
 Carving. 
 
 Chaucer. 
 
 Chemical Analysis. 
 
 Chemistry. 
 
 Child Study. 
 
 Choral Class. 
 
 Citizenship. 
 
 Clay Modelling. 
 
 Composition. 
 
 Cookery. 
 
 Deaf and Dumb Class. 
 
 Decoration. 
 
 Dickens's Works. 
 
 Domestic Economy. 
 
 Drawing. 
 
 Dressmaking. 
 
 Economics. 
 
 Electricity. 
 
 Electric Power and Lighting. 
 
 Elizabethan Literature. 
 
 Elocution. 
 
 Elementary Science. 
 
 Embryology. 
 
 English History. 
 
 English Literature. 
 
 English Novels. 
 
 English Poets. 
 
 Entomology. 
 
 Ethics. 
 
 First Aid. 
 
 French. 
 
 French Literature. 
 
 Geogi-aphy. 
 
 Geology. 
 
 German. 
 
 German Literature. 
 
 Greek. 
 
 Greek Literature. 
 
 Guild of Good Endeavour. 
 
 Guild of Hope and Pity. 
 
 Handicraft. 
 
 Health in the House. 
 
 Hebrew. 
 
 Hebrew Literature. 
 
 Herbert Spencer's Works. 
 
 History of Enghsh Rocks. 
 
 Home Hygiene. 
 
 Home Nursing. 
 
 Human Anatomy. 
 
 Hygiene. 
 
 Ideal Commonwealth. 
 
 Italian. 
 
 Italian Literature. 
 
 Kingsley's Works. 
 
 Latin. 
 
 Latin Literature. 
 
 Life Saving. 
 
 Literature of the 19th Century, 
 
 Literature for Boys. 
 
 Literature of Victorian Epoch. 
 
 Marlowe's Works. 
 
 Mathematics. 
 
 Mazzini's Works. 
 
 Microscopy. 
 
 Modelling. 
 
 Musical Analysis. 
 
 Musical Drill. 
 
 Music in the Home. 
 
 Music, Early History of. 
 
 Napoleon. 
 
 National Gallery. 
 
ELEMENTARY CLASSES FOR MEN 
 
 331 
 
 Natural History. 
 
 Needlework. 
 
 Orchestral Class. 
 
 Pbdlosophy. 
 
 Physical Geography. 
 
 Physical Geology. 
 
 Physics. 
 
 Physiology. 
 
 Play-hour for Boys. 
 
 Play-hour for Girls. 
 
 Political Economy. 
 
 PoUtics (Present-day). 
 
 Popular Ballad Choral Class. 
 
 Plato's Republic. 
 
 Practical Histology. 
 
 Psychology. 
 
 Races ancl People of Europe. 
 
 Reading Clubs. 
 
 Recitation. 
 
 Repousse Metal Work. 
 
 Rights of Enghshmen. 
 
 Ruskin's Works. 
 
 St. Jude's Guild. 
 
 Science. 
 
 Scott's Novels. 
 
 Sewing. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Shorthand. 
 
 Sight-singuig. 
 
 Singing. 
 
 Sketching. 
 
 Social and Industrial Questions, 
 
 Sound, Light, and Heat. 
 
 Spanish Literature. 
 
 Stretcher Drill. 
 
 Swedish Drill. 
 
 Swimming. 
 
 Temperance League. 
 
 Tennyson's Poems. 
 
 Violin. 
 
 Wood-carving. 
 
 Wordsworth's Poems. 
 
 Writing. 
 
 Zoology. 
 
 No mention has been made of clubs, and yet it was the work 
 of Residents in clubs which caused a further development 
 on the educational side. " We hated school work and 
 chucked it when we left, and now we have forgotten," was 
 what, in effect, many men in the clubs said. So when Mr. 
 Wilfred Blakiston arranged classes in reading, writing, 
 arithmetic, and geography, one hundred and fifty working 
 men immediately joined, and for three nights a week labori- 
 ously took up dull discipline with the goal of interesting study 
 beyond. It was an interlacing influence, because it was the 
 intellectual curiosity awakened by the Thursday debates 
 and Saturday lectures which had made the men desire to take 
 advantage of the classes and courses. For these, however, 
 they found themselves too ignorant, and so had to begin 
 again with elementary subjects. Great success attended 
 this effort — in which Mr. Patrick Duncan joined with 
 enthusiasm in 1903 — though the laborious work in which 
 most of the students were employed often made punctual 
 attendance difficult. Seven years after the classes were 
 begun it was reported : 
 
 1905. — The number of men enrolled during 1904-5 was 253, of whom 125 
 qualified for the grant. . . The work done is of good quality and wiU lead 
 up to work of a slightly advanced character in 1905-6. Two clubs were 
 opened in connection with the classes in the summer — a Camera Club and a 
 Swimming Club. Both justified their existence, and will be continued in 
 1906. 
 
332 UNIVERSITY EXTENSION SOCIETY 
 
 Li course of time the plan was copied by the Education 
 Authority, and of this the Toynbee Report spoke. 
 
 The London School Board declined to take up our classes for Elemen- 
 tary Education for men only, or for Domestic Education for girls only. 
 As both of these experiments, however, have proved successful, the 
 Board was induced last winter to give a trial to a repetition of our scheme 
 for Elementary evening classes for men at the Glengall Road Board School 
 in the Isle of Dogs. At these classes, open to men only, the most elementary 
 education is given, and is eagerly sought. This is the first school of the 
 kind that the Board has opened. 
 
 Side by side with the classes ran the courses of the Uni- 
 versity Extension Society, in the work of which Canon 
 Barnett had a great faith. Lideed it occupied so much of 
 his thought that it is necessary to trace his connection with 
 it from our first year in East London. 
 
 1874. — About fifty pupils joined the course, and we had a 
 pleasant term's work. This year I hope to be able to take a 
 house somewhat further East, where such classes might be 
 opened on a larger scale. The teachers would be men of know- 
 ledge and culture ; they would thus give their pupils something 
 better worth having than mere information. 
 
 In 1877 a room in Cambridge Road was hired, in which a 
 course was given on " Light," the students paying a five- 
 shilling fee. In 1878 the dissecting-theatre of the London 
 Hospital was the only obtainable accommodation, and 
 ninety-nine men joined for courses of lectures on Physiology, 
 Political Economy, History, and Magnetism, given by 
 " Honour men of the English Universities, who alone are 
 employed by our Committee." 
 
 The following year, 1879, Professor Huxley gave the 
 openmg address, and 
 
 A conversazione of the students was held in St. Jude's School, at 
 which Mr. Goschen' was present. Pie asserted the aim of the 
 University Extension Society to be " to provide people with the 
 means of life rather than of livelihood," and he m-ged students 
 not to look so much to the end as to the means of acquiring 
 knowledge. . . We mvist bring about wider intercourse between 
 those variously educated that the best system may be recognised. 
 If some common room in connection with the classes could be 
 established, the intercourse would be more possible. 
 
 ' Later Viscount Goaehen. 
 
MR. ALFRED MILNER AND MR. FRED ROGERS 333 
 
 In this sentence — 1879^ — lies the seed from which sprang 
 Toynbee Hall— 1884. 
 
 In practice the intercourse so ardently desired between the 
 East End and West End had already begun, for the Hon. 
 Secretaries were Mr. Fred Rogers, a working book-binder of 
 MileEnd,E., and Mr. Alfred MUner, of Claverton Street, S.W. 
 As an outcome of theu* fruitful co-operation more students 
 had joined and my husband's anxiety was to hold them 
 together. 
 
 1881. — •Professor Henry Morley gave the opening address in 
 our schools and about 200 students joined, a nucleus of earnest 
 workers. One sign of their earnestness is the formation of an 
 Adam Smith Club, which now meets regularly for the study and 
 discussion of questions of Political Economy. Another sign is 
 the readiness with which a plan for visiting museums, etc., on 
 Saturdays has been taken up. It will be a pity if this beginning 
 is left to perish. I see great difficulty in carrying it on. 
 
 The difficulties are not mentioned, for in the Reports care 
 was taken not to wound the parishioners, but the miserable 
 accommodation in the school-rooms, and the rough conduct 
 ia the streets, seriously affected the regular attendances of 
 the 200 students. However, nothing daunted the courage of 
 that group of early educationalists, and the next year the 
 Committee decided to reduce the fee to one shilling per course 
 of ten lectures. The effect made a deep and lasting impres- 
 sion on us both. It is so difficult when one has never felt 
 poverty to believe that two shillings can make so much 
 difference, especially when it is to obtain an advantage spread 
 over a whole three months, and the enlightenment saddened 
 us. 
 
 1884. — The reduction of the fee to one shilling operated so as 
 to bring over 300 students to the classes, of whom 50 offered 
 themselves for examination. The result is most encouraging to 
 a Committee, which, in the face of disappointment, refused to 
 beheve that the highest education was amfitting to God's children 
 because they were poor. If it be the difference between one 
 shilling and three shillings which has kept them so long out of 
 their inlieritance, the fact is one to be remembered bj' those who 
 waste much on what profits no one. 
 
 In 1884 Toynbee Hall was opened and the University 
 Extension Society welcomed within its walls. My husband 
 
334 GOD REVEALED THROUGH KNOWLEDGE 
 
 had real pleasure in at last piloting the faithful students, 
 whose demand for education had enabled them for ten years 
 to bear so many inconveniences, to more suitable premises. 
 In St. Jude's Report he spoke of his faith in the evangelismg 
 force of wider knowledge : 
 
 1885. — The University Extension Societj' has this year carried 
 on its classes in Toynbee Hall. The number of students has 
 risen to 455, a Library of over 2,500 volumes has been formed, 
 and frequent conversaziones have been held, at which the Bishop 
 of Bedford, Mr. Goschen, Professor Bryce, Professor Morley, and 
 Professor Seeley have been present. . . 
 
 Ahhough the Committee is encouraged to nourish great hopes, 
 no one is foolish enough to think that any movement can give 
 the nostrum by which all the evils of the time may be cured, but, 
 for my part, I believe that this Society is taking the line of 
 success. If years ago, when the evils were as great, a remedy 
 was found in the mission of those who took the news of the best 
 to the worst, and carried light to the darkest places ; if the 
 Revelation of God has been the glory of the Church, a like glory 
 is now within the reach of the University teachers. It is they 
 who may make common the Word of God, the Word which comes 
 through His latest gifts of knowledge, and it is they who preach 
 the Gospel, the means by which those enslaved by toil may move 
 in higher and wider sjiheres of life. If as yet their work wants 
 the Divine impulse, the touch which would give it power, we 
 may surely wait, seeing what they already do, and knowing that 
 the ways of God are slow. 
 
 The advantages of moving into Toynbee Hall included 
 the sharing by the students of its full and pulsating life. 
 One of the early students wrote : 
 
 At last we were able to leave the Schools and go mto the new Toynbee 
 Hall, where everybody who liked had fresh opportunities. Incidentally I 
 recall a little scene that happened once in the Lecture Hall. Lord Wolseley 
 had dmed at Toynbee Hall and was to give a talk to the students after- 
 wards. The corridor doors communicating with the lecture-room were 
 open, and when the Warden and Lord Wolseley reached them there stood 
 old Mr. Stockham as straight as a poker at the salute. To see the Field 
 Marshal acknowledge the salute and then, recognising a former old fighter 
 under him — in the Red River Expedition — wring his hand in hearty 
 greeting and pleasure, did one good, and the Warden seemed lighted up 
 with pleasure too. 
 
 From that year to 1906, when Ave left Whitechapel, every 
 session marks some advance, some disappointment, some 
 fresh scheme, some change, the only unchangeable factor 
 being Mr. Barnett's faith. 
 
STUDENTS FIX THEIR FEES 335 
 
 In 1887 the need of co-ordination is faced, for " tit-bits 
 of knowledge are fatal to real mental training." After 
 speaking of increased numbers he indicated the idea on 
 which the AVorkers' Educational Association is founded : 
 
 1887. — It remains now for the University Extension Society 
 to co-ordinate its teaching, to give not only isolated lectures, but 
 to guide students in the choice of courses, and to provide for any- 
 one willing to trust to its care adequate training in Science, Art, 
 or Literature. In hospitals the sick owe as much to nursing as 
 to the doctor's directions, and in our centres of education the 
 students must have not only the direction of the professor, but 
 the constant care of the tutor. 
 
 In 1888 the students were invited to fix their own fees. 
 One shiUtng was charged for registration, and beyond that 
 sum each member decided what he or she should pay. This 
 plan was admirable, for while the lesson learnt by the large 
 addition of the students when the fee was reduced to one 
 shilluig per term was not ignored, to those who had more 
 money or desire for self-sacrifice, the opportunity was given 
 to pay towards the expenses of the teaching they valued. 
 On this Mr. T. Hancock Nunn wrote in the Toynbee Record : 
 
 1888. — It is noticeable that though the number of working men at the 
 lectures has increased, considerably more persons than before have taken 
 higher priced tickets ; one-third of the total number have paid either 5s. 
 or guinea fees. 
 
 In 1890 a note of congratulation is sounded on " the 
 growing solidity of the work," no less than 11 per cent, of 
 the whole number of students having entered for the examin- 
 ation, of whom 98 per cent, had passed and 36 per cent, 
 gained distinction. The following extract is from the report 
 of the examiner in Hygiene : 
 
 1890. — It must be very gratifjrLng to find that the patient teaching of 
 science in this centre is bearing fruit in such a solid and comprehensible 
 subject. . . Of those who have acquired marks of distinction, each one i.'; 
 quite fitted to deal with the problems of public health and sanitary science, 
 either as inspectors under the supervision of medical officers of health or 
 as holding situations (such as matrons and masters of public institutions, 
 workhouses, etc., nurses, school masters, school mistresses) in which ques- 
 tions of hygiene would come under their consideration. . . The paper 
 sent in by one of the candidates obtained the highest number of marks I 
 Ijave ever given in any examination for this society; and it does the 
 
336 STUDENTS ELECT COMMITTEE 
 
 writer of it the highest credit, not only for the accuracy with which she 
 states her facts, but also for the concise and vivid manner in which she 
 puts them down.^ 
 
 Many of us, having attained to that height after seventeen 
 years of work, would have rested, but not so Mr. Barnett. 
 The same year we find him democratising the society. " In 
 the future," he wrote, " the Committee wiH be elected by 
 the students." He made also the further suggestion that it 
 should become the parent of other centres. 
 
 1890. — The 600 students, and the many societies attached to 
 them, set one thiriking whether the time for a forward movement 
 has not arrived. It might be possible for this centre to become 
 the mother of other centres, to relate the classes to one another, 
 and so put within the reach of each student the means, not of 
 getting a glimpse of a subject through twelve or twenty-four 
 lectures, but of a thorough mental training. . . To achieve this, 
 courses of lectures would have to follow one another, and a stafE 
 of tutors would have to be appointed. 
 
 This missionary plan was carried out, and centres started 
 in Limehouse and Poplar with four courses, which were 
 attended " by nearly 400 students drawn from the artisan 
 classes." In 1892 Mr. Barnett reported : 
 
 The Committee hope to help in doing something which will 
 want doing, even when Trades Unions have raised wages and 
 County Councils have given technical education. Men must have 
 knowledge ; and the means which furnish the present with 
 memories of the past, which develop taste, draw out reverence 
 and aid the powers of expression, are as important as those which 
 increase wages. 
 
 The Toynbee Record supplied more detaUs : 
 
 1892. — University Extension has made rapid strides this autumn, 
 with eight courses on hand. Professor Gardiner's lectures are the best 
 attended in Whitechapel, the average attendance being 124. Dr. Fison's 
 Advanced Electricity comprises a select 35, who, to judge from their papers, 
 appear to be working hard. Mr. Budler's most mteresting course attracts 
 an average of 07 students. Of our two Literature courses, Mr. GoUancz's 
 class, on the Development of the Elizabethan Drama, meets in TojTibee 
 Hall to the number of .'!0 ; the Rev. Ronald Bayne's, on Shakespeare, meets 
 in the Lolesworth flub, and is attended exclusively by members of work- 
 
 1 The lecturers were Dr. S. R. Gardiner, on " English and European 
 History " ; Mr. Walter Pye, on " Hygiene " ; Professor V. B. Lewea, on 
 " Chemistry" j and Kev. P. H. Wicksteed, on " Sociology." 
 
SUNDAY MORNING LECTURES 337 
 
 men's clubi?. The average attendance is 58, and all stay to an informal 
 sort of class at which questions are put to the lecturer. 
 
 Of the courses farther east, Mr. Harold Spender's at Poplar on England, 
 India, and the Colonies, and in Limehouse on the French Revolution, have 
 attracted 150 each, mostly workmen ; whilst Dr. Fison's lectures in Lime- 
 house on Electricity are listened to by an audience of some 210 students. 
 
 To these courses, illustrated by limelight — then an inno- 
 vation for adults — the fees were sixpence for a course ticket, 
 or one penny for a single lecture. At the inaugural meeting 
 the Duke of Devonshire took the chair, and among our 
 amusing memories is his amazement when, after dining with 
 us, we took him to the Town Hall in a cheap, convenient, but 
 public conveyance. But he liked it, for he came again to 
 distribute certificates. 
 
 In that same year- — ^1892- — conferences were held on " how 
 to provide technical education that should have for its 
 object the scientific principles underlying technical pro- 
 cesses " ; the consequence being the formation of the 
 Electrical and Chemical Societies. 
 
 A year after this prolific session, Sunday morning lectures 
 in History and Science were started — a step which again 
 raised angry protests ; but Mr. Barnett argued that for real 
 study men needed brains untired by a long day's work. 
 
 In 1894 not only were there eight courses running — five 
 at Toynbee, three at Limehouse and Poplar — ^but a summer 
 pioneer course at MfilwaU attracted 280 men. Indeed that 
 year their zeal carried the students through three summer 
 courses, a still larger percentage entered for examination, 
 " and there were no failures." Three years afterwards the 
 Toynbee Report stated : 
 
 1897. — The total average weekly attendance at the University Extension 
 lectures and the various classes during the winter and spring was 916 . . . 
 and during the summer 517 students were in regular weekly attendance. 
 
 It sounds delightful and was so, and I can stUl recall the 
 excitement of first nights, when Mr. Bolton King and Mr. 
 Monk and their train of willing helpers sat by the long im- 
 provised table under the stahs and booked students. I can 
 see Bolton running up the stairs to teU us the numbers, 
 what subjects had been taken up, and what had been a 
 " frost," and I can still feel the glow of sympathy with my 
 husband's pleasure when he saw the great body of students 
 welcomed in the splendid Hall of the Drapers' Company, for 
 I knew that he was remembering that little band of fifty 
 earnest souls who had sought higher education in a small 
 
338 TUTORIAL CLASSES STARTED 
 
 room up a dark passage in 1873. Fifteen years afterwards 
 he was able to write to his fellow- workers : 
 
 1888. — The University Extension Society has now established 
 itself in London, and we must always be proud that one of its 
 earliest centres was in this parish. 
 
 But in the zenith of its success those who watched saw a 
 change. It shall be given in the words of Mr. E. J. Urwick, 
 then actmg as Sub- Warden : 
 
 1899. — There can be no doubt that the conditions with which our educa- 
 tional system has to deal are changing gradually — the centre of attraction 
 has shifted ; it is no longer to be found in the lecture-haU so much as in the 
 meetings of reading-parties, societies, and classes. A few years ago a good 
 University Extension Society's course was sure to attract an audience ; 
 now the attendance mil not be more than two-thirds of what it was. . . 
 
 Fortunately, there is no correspondmg diminution of interest in the 
 other departments of the work. The attendance at the classes has been 
 better than usual ; the short courses of lectures have been very successful ; 
 and the vigour of the many societies and educational clubs has been more 
 than maintained. . . 
 
 Paced with these facts, Mr. Barnett revived the idea he had 
 outlined in 1887, of tutorial classes, by which he hoped, 
 in small numbers in co-operative study, and by personally 
 directed home reading, to enlist each student's initiation and 
 powers of selection in the development of his own intellectual 
 life. These hopes he had often expressed, but it was not 
 until thirteen years after he had urged the provision of pro- 
 fessional tutorial classes that the To5rnbee Council reported : 
 
 1900. — Important is the experiment of providing tutorial classes . . . 
 which, at the Warden's suggestion, has now been sanctioned by the Uni- 
 versity Extension Society. Three of these classes have been arranged for 
 the coming year, in Literature, History, and Chemistry. They will be 
 limited as to numbers, but they will provide far more thorough and 
 systematic teaching than is possible in a course of lectures. 
 
 How that scheme has grown and become a mighty force in 
 the nation is told in the reports of the \Vorkers' Educational 
 Association, but no one can report on the multitude of deep 
 and wonderful friendships which have arisen between teacher 
 and taught, or the moulding of lives resulting from co- 
 operation in pursuit of knowledge. 
 
 In 1902 Mr. Barnett reported a fresh move by the Com- 
 mittee : 
 
 Application for a grant was made to the Board of Education 
 for the Tutorial Class^ and on the subjects being approved, seven. 
 
DR. S. R. GARDINER 339 
 
 classes were placed under Government inspection. It is hoped 
 that this step will have the effect of maintaining the high level 
 of regularity already reached, as well as of easing the financial 
 burden of the Committee. 
 
 It was one of the charms of the atmosphere of Toynbee 
 HaU that men avoided rather than sought recognition of 
 their labours, but the determination of his students to 
 honour their veteran lecturer could not be set aside, and 
 indeed it was the recognition of years of devoted labour, not 
 only on dear old Dr. Gardiner's part, but of the large body 
 of men who served the University Extension Society m the 
 same spirit as men serve the Church. The Toynbee Record 
 said : 
 
 1899. — On April 22nd a crowded meeting was held in the Lecture Hall, 
 and Dr. Gardiner was then presented with a silver bowl, as a reminder to 
 him of the affection and respect that he had stirred among us during his 
 twenty years' association with Whitechapel. The Warden presided, and 
 the Bishop of London was among those who had come to do honour to the 
 guest of the evening. In the course of his speech the Bishop expressed 
 the significant opinion that in the annals of literature there was no more 
 conspicuous example of a man whose life was his work and whose work was 
 embodied in his hfe than Dr. Gardiner. 
 
 " The world generally," added Dr. Creighton, "does not know what a 
 great man Dr. Gardiner is, although some day it will make the dis- 
 covery." 
 
 To this high tribute the fitting counterpart was found in Blr. Bruce's 
 testimony of the friendliness and the " intense simplicity " of Dr. Gardiner's 
 teachmg. 
 
 Indeed it is not possible to chronicle the gift of the mass 
 of service rendered, but the names of two men cannot be 
 omitted, for my husband was wont to say that to the work 
 of Dr. R. D. Roberts and Mr. J. E. Monk the success of the 
 Whitechapel centre was due. To both he gave warm and 
 admiring friendship, realising that the force of intellect, 
 continuity of purpose, and weight of character that each 
 possessed could have obtained for them coveted positions in 
 the world, had they not in their several ways dedicated their 
 great powers and best years to public progress. 
 
 Below all these educational organisations lay Mr. Barnett's 
 deej) hope of establishing an East London University. We 
 often talked of it, coveted neighbouring buildmgs, and 
 visualised Toynbee Hall as the tutors' residence surrounded 
 by many houses filled with students, whose course of higher 
 education would be compatible with self-support. 
 
340 A COLLEGE OF THE HUMANITIES 
 
 1882. — The scheme by which a kind of East London College 
 may be estabUshed is fully shaped in my mind. . . It will demand 
 an effort on the part of those who have faith in the power of 
 knowledge to give means of life to working as well as to leism:ed 
 people. . . Too often has it been said that the best is above the 
 heads of East Londoners. The capacity for the best follows no 
 such arbitrary lines. . . As one of the Beaumont Trustees, I hope 
 to be able to do a little towards establishing that East London 
 College or Athenaeum which was in our thoughts when, ten years 
 ago, my wife and I came to live here, and began to reahse the 
 needs of our new neighbours. 
 
 To F. G. B., 1885. — Seeley, who lectured one night, has been 
 staying here. He shows that with much shrewdness he has any 
 amount of enthusiasm. He enters most warmly into our hopes 
 for Tojmbee Hall, and will support it till it becomes a real centre 
 of learning. There is no reason why it should not so become, and 
 further than that be a centre to diffuse warmth as well as light, 
 love as well as culture. 
 
 1902. — A scheme for establishing a College of the " Hu- 
 manities ' ' is floating before some minds, a scheme which will 
 show itself boldly — as boldly as colleges of science or technical 
 teaching — and offer teaching in History, Philosophy, and Litera- 
 ture with an assurance of their value. . . Knowledge which makes 
 for the joy rather than the comfort of hfe. 
 
 Yet lest anyone should think that Canon Barnett had 
 altered his aim, and had put education as an end instead of 
 a means, the following extract from The Toynhee Record is 
 reprinted : 
 
 1893. — The social problem ia at root an educational problem, 
 and they who have been concerned at Toynbee Hall to raise the 
 standard of living have been driven to develop educational 
 schemes. They found that without more knowledge, power 
 might be a useless weapon and money only a means of degrada- 
 tion, and that without more education, local government would 
 hardly be for the local good. . . They reahsed that no secure 
 position would be won until people were educated to win it for 
 themselves, and that no happiness is satisfactory except that 
 which comes from " the inward eye." 
 
 Here then is the reason for the classes. . . Here is the reason 
 for the schemes of study which are set forth as trustworthy 
 guides for those who want their minds fitted to be always learn- 
 ing ; here is the reason for all the efforts to put alongside of 
 wage-earning subjects such mind-stretching subjects as the 
 principles of history and of science, 
 
A DIRECTOR OF ENTHUSIASM 341 
 
 The danger is lest the development of the educational side of 
 Toynbee Hall may lead some students to think that education is 
 the end in view, and leave them satisfied with the joy they are 
 finding for themselves and with their own growing power to 
 choose the good and refuse the evil. The safeguard against this 
 danger is the memory of the object for which all the teaching has 
 been given. . . 
 
 The object is that there may not be so many wretched, home- 
 less people on Commercial Street doorsteps, so many unem- 
 ployed half-fed in their single-roomed homes, so many neigh- 
 bours full of envy, hatred, and uncharitableness ; that work may 
 not be so destructive of mind, and that the problem of capital 
 and labour may not be settled by bullets. The memory of this 
 object will make students feel in honour bound to become ser- 
 vants. The acceptance of the teaching will be to them as the 
 acceptance of the Queen's shilling by which the receivers are 
 pledged to be loyal fighters on her side. 
 
 If a,nj man or woman asks " What can I do ? " Mrs. Bamett 
 and I would be ill-fitted for the place we occupy if we could give 
 no answer. The Warden of Toynbee Hall is not a head of an 
 Educational Institute ; he is a director of enthusiasm disciplined 
 for the service of East London. Study and service should be 
 the watchword of those who belong to this centre of education. 
 
 To me, with a thousand interwoven memories, it has been 
 deeply interesting to give, however sketchily, the story of 
 thirty years' efforts to obtain higher teaching in East 
 London, the success of which justified Mr. Barnett's faith 
 in the appreciation of the democracy for the best. But he 
 affirmed that the best must be supplied before it could be 
 demanded, and to supply it in such attractive forms as to 
 create a demand he worked unremittingly. Indeed, all 
 through our forty years of life together, the only occasions of 
 disagreement arose from his overwork, and among its chief 
 causes was the provision of higher education. Even in the 
 last few years when his health was fraU and fatigue brought 
 on a heart attack, he never deserted the committees which 
 strove for higher education, and many anxious times have I 
 spent sitting in the car waiting for him in the great court- 
 yard of University College, where some of the meetings 
 were held. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 " Humility is the lowly and true estimate of self ; it is acceptance of the 
 place appointed by God, whether it be in the front or the rear." 
 
 It gave Canon Barnett genuine satisfaction to place the 
 Toynbee rooms at the disposal of the School Board to enable 
 Sir Edmund Currie's idea of pupil-teacher centres to be 
 accomplished^ — 1885. The centre, which was under Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bannister/ did not remain long in Toynbee, though 
 long enough to enable Mr. E. B. Sargant to found the PupU 
 Teachers' Association for the boys, of whom Mr. P. Lyttelton 
 Gell, the Chairman of the Toynbee Council, wrote in the 
 Toynbee Report : 
 
 1886. — These boys, the teachers of the commg generation of Englishmen, 
 are, in what should be the brightest and freest time of their lives, subjected 
 to a never-ending and monotonous round of cramming and being crammed, 
 and have little chance of seeing anything of the brighter and nobler side of 
 learning. They greatly want the friendship of men who have been ac- 
 customed to regard the acquisition of knowledge from a more disinterested 
 standpoint, men who can imbue them with something of their own love for 
 literature and science. . . I have read literature with them, first Charles 
 Kingsley's Water Babies, which they began with thinking a sUly nursery 
 book, and ended with finding too deep for them; then some Tennyson, and 
 lastly More's Utopia, which pleased them very much by its anticipation 
 of modern problems of education and politics, though they originally chose 
 it as bearing on the period of history for their scholarship examination, in 
 that thought of " what will pay " which is bound up with all their studies. 
 
 The association existed for many years and was productive 
 of much good. On the nights for debates, the boys met early 
 in the Toynbee drawing-room, played whist, and ate teas the 
 size of which left the beholders wondering, and then debated 
 with much vigour questions like " Votes for women," " The 
 House of Lords is useless, dangerous, and ought to be 
 abolished," " Democracy has not failed in France " — 1888 — 
 " Parliament should interfere to limit the hours of labour " — ■ 
 1889. People such as Sir William Markby, Mr. Lyulph 
 
 1 still valued friends, and now living quite close to me in Hainpstead 
 Garden Suburb. 
 
 342 
 
PUPIL-TEACHER CENTRES 343 
 
 Stanley, Lord Londonderry, or Mr. T. J. Macnamara, 
 M.L.S.B.,' took the chair, and unconsciously educated 
 by setting standards of worth. The pupil teachers did all 
 the debatmg themselves and great nonsense they often 
 talked, but they were m earnest and solemnly recorded their 
 decisions. Mr. E. B. Sargant, Mr. G. L. Bruce, or one of the 
 other Residents was always present, though intentionally 
 unobtrusive, and sometimes Mr. Barnett went in and gave 
 them one of his pleasant " touch-the-spot " talks, or took in 
 the public lecturer of the evening to say a few words. I 
 recall visits from Lord Wolseley, Lord Brassey, Lord Monks- 
 weU, Sir Alfred LyaU, Mr. Frederic Harrison, Mr. Leslie 
 Stephen, Mr. George Macdonald, Mr. Henry Arthij^ Jones, 
 and Dr. Fairbairn, aU of whom were interested in the lads. 
 Of one meeting The Toynbee Record said : 
 
 1889. — An interesting incident in the evening was the reading by Mr. J. 
 Russell of some passages from a description, by Count Leo Tolstoi, of his 
 village school in Russia. Exclamations of derision and incredulity were 
 provoked by some parts of the narrative, while others were listened to with 
 the closest interest. 
 
 Besides the debates and reading parties, Mr. Sargant 
 instituted a large athletic organisation with tournaments, 
 and matches, and shields, and trophies, all of which the boys 
 hugely enjoyed and which, people say, have deep moral 
 significance. There was a rowing club too, vaingloriously 
 called " The Argonauts," which was coached by an Oxford 
 blue and applauded by a Cambridge stroke, but on the one 
 occasion when Mr. Barnett and I went to Chiswick for their 
 gala day I thought they did very badly, and wondered, as I 
 have often done in life, how far truth should give place to 
 encouragement. 
 
 Whatever the medium, the boys could not help being up- 
 lifted by Mr. E. B. Sargant — a nature so poetic as to be 
 unpractical, so public-spirited as to conquer unpracticality, 
 and all the time tenderly watchful for the sphitual potentiali- 
 ties of every neglected chUd. He gathered leading educa- 
 tionalists to listen to his ideals and set a new standard for 
 some of them. The Toynbee Record reported : 
 
 ]^889. — On February 12th, 1889, the annual meeting of the London 
 Pupil Teachers' Association was held at the Portman Rooms. Although 
 the roads were walled with snow, 300 ladies and gentlemen attended. 
 
 1 Parliamentary and Financial Secretary to the Admiralty. 
 
344 PUPIL TEACHERS AND THE UNIVERSITIES 
 
 Among the speakers were Sir E. Lyon Playfair, Dr. Montagu Butler, 
 Mrs. S. A. Bamett, Hon. Alfred Lyttelton, Hon. E. Lyulph Stanley, Dr. 
 Gladstone, and Mr. E. B. Sargant. 
 
 Of the policy of pupil-teacher centres my husband wrote : 
 
 1886. — The plan by which the pupil teachers are taught in 
 centres affords them better teaching, tends to give^them the 
 sense of corporate life, and breaks the isolation in which teachers 
 are apt to hve. In the centres, though, their interests are 
 narrowed by their companionship and by their studies, and it is 
 most necessary that they should come into contact with other 
 men and other thoughts. By such contact they learn their 
 own ignorance, and in humility become more fit to be teachers 
 of youth. Teachers, most of all men, need to be in the attitude 
 of learners, and at present this attitude is somewhat rare. 
 
 To help them to this desirable attitude Mr. Barnett formed 
 a Scholarship Committee to send some of the ablest of the 
 pupil teachers to the old Universities. Its first work was 
 to award five scholarships — £25 each- — which were provided 
 mainly by the gifts of young graduates. The Warden 
 issued an address to past University men, pointing out that — 
 
 1893. — Those who have reaped, perhaps carelessly enough, 
 what pious benefactors have sown, have an opportunity, in the 
 case of these pupil teachers, of rendering to others what has 
 been given so freely to them. By clubbing together to provide 
 £25 a year (this being the cost of the University hi excess of that 
 of the Training CoUege) "for three years, groups of men may 
 send their scholar to college, initiate and enjoy his successes, 
 raise the whole tone of elementary education, and through their 
 teachers help to ' educate our masters.' " 
 
 The next year twelve more pupil teachers were sent, 
 taking their places both in Oxford and Cambridge under 
 the same conditions as other undergraduates. The men 
 who had gained the first scholarships had worked so well 
 that, when in 1896 they took their degrees, the greater 
 number passed in honours. There were then eighteen men 
 at the Universities and a very large number more anxious 
 to go. It was the money only which stood in the way. At 
 this juncture the Drapers' Company stepped in, and by 
 giving £500 a year made it possible to grant facilities for 
 thirty men to receive the coveted training, and then the 
 Universities took it up. At Oxford, BaUiol, Lincoln, and 
 
SUCCESS OF THE SCHOLARS 345 
 
 Brazenose Colleges offered respectively £50, £30, and £42 
 annually, and at Cambridge, King's and Christ's Colleges 
 each created scholarships of £25 and Emmanuel one of £40. 
 These, held m addition to the Toynbee grant, enabled the 
 men to live iu college while they worked for then' degrees 
 and were tramed for teachers. The Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury blessed the plan and from all parts of England came 
 more applications than could be met. 
 
 Year after year the success of the men was chronicled, 
 not only at the Universities but in the high places they took 
 in the Queen's Scholarship list. In all these students Mr. 
 Barnett took living interest, helping many over difficulties, 
 linancial, mteUectual, or social. The Committee, which 
 included the Rev. Dr. Percival, the Rector of Exeter 
 College, Mr. Oscar Browning, Mr. G. N. Richardson — the 
 Principal of the Day Training College at Oxford- — and 
 representatives of the National Union of Teachers, the 
 Teachers' Guild, the Metropolitan Board Teachers' Associa- 
 tion, and the Metropolitan Centre Teachers' Association, 
 always met m our house, and sometimes I gave tea to the 
 would-be scholars while they waited, feeling the indignation 
 which so often consumes me that men ready to use their 
 brains for the public service should have to ask for charity 
 to enable them to do so. They worked splendidly, and in 
 1903 my husband wrote with pride that — 
 
 Ten of the pupU-teacher scholars have gained honours, six in 
 the first class, in the past year, and their predecessors are fast 
 mounting the ladder of the teaching profession. 
 
 If I were writing my own liEe I should want at least two 
 chapters to tell of the Girls' Pupil Teacher Association 
 which arose at the same time as that of the boys. Mrs. 
 Fawcett was the first President, but during our journey 
 round the world — 1890-91- — the governing body elected me, 
 nolentem volentem, to that honourable post, which I held 
 to the last hour of the Association's life, an hour passed in 
 the Council-chamber of the L.C.C., when, sitting in that 
 exalted chair, I was surprised into speechlessness by wonder- 
 ful gifts with affectionate inscriptions from our 2,300 
 members. 
 
 What good times we had in those twenty years ! Twelve 
 centres all over London from Battersea to Poplar, from 
 Woolwich to Chelsea. Twelve hon. secretaries with their 
 
 1—24 
 
346 PUPIL TEACHERS' ASSOCIATION 
 
 gixl Committees and network of reading parties, and tennis, 
 h.ockey, and swimming clubs. Twelve lectures, one in each 
 term in the centres, on some literary, historical, or scientific 
 subject ru)t in the curriculum. Twelve rambles into glorious 
 Surrey and among Kentish lanes ; and then the annual 
 inter-central functions. How splendid they were for girls 
 and ladies alike ! 
 
 Deep in my memory are many of the twenty visits paid 
 alternately to Oxford ' and Cambridge, when our hosts in- 
 cluded the Master of BaUiol, Professor and Mrs. Max MiiUer, 
 Sir John Gorst, Mr. Phelps of Oriel, Sir John and Lady 
 Burden-Sanderson, Mrs. J. R. Green, Sir Wihiam and Lady 
 Markby, Mrs. Henry Sidgwick, Professor and Mrs. Mac- 
 Alister, Mr. and Mrs. Rackham, Miss Hughes, the Vice- 
 Chancellor, and above them all in the girls' eyes, Miss 
 Clough. Not to be forgotten also are the tennis tourna- 
 ments, when we were welcomed in our hundreds to large 
 and beautiful gardens, and Sir Spencer Wells, Sir Charles 
 and Lady Elliott, Sir Samuel and Lady Montagu, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Yarrow, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, and fifteen other 
 generous rich ones regaled girls and their large body of 
 teachers and Associates to unlimited strawberries and cream, 
 and humorous speeches. 
 
 Then there were the twenty expeditions to St. Paul's and 
 the Abbey ,conducted by Dean Bradley, Canon Scott HoUand, 
 the Bishop of Stepney, and that little lady of large know- 
 ledge, Mrs. Alick Murray Smith. And it is not possible to 
 count the personally conducted visits to picture-galleries 
 and museums ; but we went and saw everything, including 
 the studios of Mr. Watts, Sir Frederick Leighton, Mr. 
 Thornycroft, Mr. Roscoe MuUms, and Sir Hubert Herkomer. 
 Delightful also were the annual musical parties in beautiful 
 houses, among which were Lady Battersea's, Lord Brassey's, 
 Sir Edwin and Lady Durning Lawrence's. So was the sight 
 of the Queen's HaU quite full of young teachers breathlessly 
 listening to the performances of their competing choirs, 
 judged by no less a person than Sir Hubert Parry. Then 
 they learnt to swim. Oh ! the noise of those swimming 
 competitions, and the extraordinary ease with which girls 
 learnt aquatic feats ! 
 
 1 One teacher, now the head of her staff, has written : 
 
 " I have a clear recollection of a day at Oxford, and Canon Bamett, 
 
 surrounded by young teachers under a tree in a college garden, reading to 
 
 them that wonderful Russian story Ivan Ivanoviich." 
 
MRS. BARNETT'S READING CLUB 347 
 
 And the conferences at Toynbee Hall ! The hum of the 
 200 or 300 ghls can still be conjured up from the recesses 
 where mterestmg memories live, and their bright, eager 
 faces, as they discussed their winter plans and demanded 
 the impossible, are not liliely to fade. Then, too, there 
 was the hymnology competition started by Mr. Aldis, H.M. 
 Inspector, and the honorary members' branch which Miss 
 Townsend worked, of young teachers who, having grown 
 beyond the pupil-teacher stage, yet refused to leave us. 
 The foundmg of the Magazine — 1896^ — was a great event, 
 and its veUum-bound volumes were one of the gifts that I 
 received when sitting in the exalted L.C.C. chair. The 
 intercentral reading club, too, was very interesting, but of 
 it an old member wishes to report : 
 
 Mrs. Bamett's Reading Club held its monthly meetings in her large 
 artistic Whitechapel drawing-room. In the summer we were bidden to the 
 Hampstead Cottage ; there wo conscientiously carried on the discussion 
 under the elm trees, occasionally taking peeps at the celebrated view 
 through the pines. The nucleus of the Club were the Stepney pupil 
 teachers. Many of us remained members after we had taken our places 
 in the teaching world. There were also West End friends whose education 
 had been obtained in different environments. They were a great addition 
 to the intellectual capital of our Club. 
 
 The book was usually a novel, and was selected by votes and perused at 
 home. At the nest meeting three papers were read on it — one by an ex- 
 member, one by a P.T., and one by a visitor. After the papers the talk 
 was vigorous, Mrs. Barnett had a rare capacity for bringing out the best 
 efforts of everybody. She sometimes startled us out of conventional lines 
 of thought and compelled us to consider questions afresh. At the end she 
 summed up what had been said. Many of us treasure those speeches. 
 Then ideals were faced, hopes inspired, and brave maintenance of the 
 best insisted on. Our influence on the children was never omitted, and 
 homely illustrations of our difficulties surprised us, but then Mrs. Barnett 
 had taught and loved some sorts of children: 
 
 If there was time we persuaded her to read poetry to us. She liked 
 Browning, and though some asked for Longfellow, we got Browning. 
 
 " Not understand him!" she would say — "you have not tried, I 
 will introduce you," and she did. 
 
 After the discussion we all had tea (out of the best cups), and cakes, and 
 then went home. Mrs. Bannister never missed, and Miss Brooks, and Miss 
 Penstone. We are all grateful. Some of us got a new direction to our 
 views of our profession. 
 
 Yes ! to teU of the girls' side of the L.P.T.A. would take 
 quite two chapters, but it was my work and not my hus- 
 band's, and is only mentioned here so that the atmosphere 
 of our home can be understood, and to say of my work, as 
 he so often did of his, that I could not have done it without 
 
348 SERVICE IN THE ABBEY 
 
 him. We, lilie the centres, were individual but inter- 
 dependent. Of the work itself Mr. Barnett wrote : 
 
 1S92. — If it be remembered that the time of these pupil 
 teachers is divided between teaching at a Board School and 
 learning at a " centre," it will be seen how valuabh'. must be the 
 elTort which brings them into touch with sister-women whose 
 lives have falk-n in other surroundings and ^vhich shows them 
 something of the art, the literature, and buildings which put a 
 past and a future around the present. 
 
 To his brother Mr. Barnett often wrote of the young 
 teachers : 
 
 March 1885. — On Wednesday we had a party of girl pupil 
 teachers. They are better stuff than the boys, but not very 
 hopeful as the mothers of the future — mothers in more senses 
 than one. 
 
 May 1885. — Y has just been holding forth to the P.Ts. 
 
 and is impressed by their inferiority to other girls of the same 
 age. I wish I could rouse someone to run a tilt against education 
 which has the faults of the law which Paul condemned. 
 
 July 1888. — My wife is off to Cambridge with 100 pupil teachers. 
 She is very well and has taken great pains in organising the 
 party. I am going with a lot of TojTibee students to Taplow, 
 80 we shall not meet till the evening. 
 
 I have spoken of the last hour of the Association's life 
 being that passed in the London County Council chamber, 
 but there was yet another, for some of us felt the Association 
 had meant so much to the lives and characters of teachers 
 and taught, that we wished to thank God. So with Dean 
 Robinson's co-operation, a great service was arranged in 
 the Abbey to which our Association members — some grey- 
 headed — came in their hundreds, and to them Canon Barnett 
 preached, saying again in that sanctified Worship House 
 what he had often told us in the Toynbee rooms. 
 
 It is not until teachers look into the mystery which ever 
 lies beyond the limits of what they know, that they will truly 
 exercise their functions as guides of those who, more than any 
 others, hold the destiny of the nation. 
 
 And after the service came the handshakes and the fare- 
 wells, and in some cases tears, and so the Association ended : 
 but not so its friendships. They exist stiU. 
 
RELATIONS WITH TEACHERS 349 
 
 Canon Barnett's relations with teachers were deep i£ 
 somewhat complex. Believing as he did that the revelation 
 of God to our time came by knowledge, he paid homage to 
 their calling, but was ia consequence severe when it had 
 been adopted from poor motives and was carried on un- 
 worthily. Of all the sins committed by stumbling humanity 
 he was hardest on self-satisfaction, counting humility the 
 greatest virtue, and conceit the dead waU which blocked 
 progress. To this fault the teachers have special tempta- 
 tions. 
 
 For some of his teacher friends, such as Mr. Winkworth, 
 Mr. Widdowson, Miss Hickling, Miss Wild, Miss Penstone, 
 Miss Davies, Miss Jenkins, Mr. Levy, Miss Harris, and Mr. 
 Polyblank, he had unstinted admiration, holding that their 
 devotion to the dullest duty, their self-forgetting ingenuity 
 in mitiating fresh methods of developing the characters of 
 the children, made them worthy of every honour. But it 
 was just because these men and women showed in them- 
 selves the heights to which members of the teaching pro- 
 fession could attain, that Mr. Barnett regretted the lower 
 plane on which the majority moved and were content to 
 move. 
 
 To F. O. B., 1887. — On Thursday we had a party of ele- 
 mentary teachers. They are a set who need culture. We had 
 thirty conceitedly ignorant, comfortably ugly men and women, 
 to whom is entrusted the power once held by students and priests. 
 We broiight them face to face with Holman Hunt and other real 
 creatures, people who know and unconsciously teach humUity. 
 
 To F. O. B., 1890. — On Tuesday Dr. Abbott dined with us 
 and addressed 120 teachers on Bible teaching. He was very 
 good, at once free and reverent, true and tender. The teachers 
 showed a want of earnestness and some who spoke confessed to 
 care only for the emancipation which comes from liberaUsm. 
 The truth is that life to most is not serious, and so they do not 
 care for a guide-book. 
 
 To F. 0. B., 1891. — On Tuesday we were overwhelmed by 
 300 teachers who came to an evening party in greater numbers 
 than they had promised. They came too early and were aggressive 
 in their gratitude. Dear me ! the teachers do want to be sent 
 on the quest of the Holy Grail. They are so cooky and so 
 ignorant. 
 
 It was my husband's reverence for little children and his 
 limitless faith m humanity, if it were properly educated. 
 
350 EQUIPMENT OF TEACHERS 
 
 that caused him to demand sacrifices from those who had 
 elected to teach. Thus the appeal of teachers to the pro- 
 tection of a trade union, when proposals were made for the 
 good of the children, aroused him as few things did, and was 
 among the influences which caused him to advocate the 
 abolition of the School Boards, which he believed were too 
 much controlled by their teaching staff. Perhaps Mr. 
 Barnett's keenest disappointment was the limitation of 
 teachers' interests by the requirements of their profession, 
 and their indifference to knowledge unless it told on then- 
 salaries. He used to make many inquiries as to how the 
 holidays had been spent, and be both indignant and pitiful 
 when it came out that enough money had been wasted at 
 Margate or Blackpool in frivolous excitements to have paid 
 for a visit to Brittany or Switzerland, or a tour to inspect 
 castles, cathedrals, canals, or anything that meant intelligent 
 effort. 
 
 But it he was severe on the teachers' self-complacency and 
 self-seekmg, the moment that they turned towards the land 
 from which they could get wider views and breathe rarer 
 moral atmosphere, it was his hand and voice which helped 
 and cheered them as they mounted the hUl Difficulty. For 
 them all he demanded better education and greater liberty. 
 
 The first step in Education reform is improved training for 
 teachers, and second is greater liberty for such teachers to use 
 their own methods to reach their own end. Vain is it for anyone 
 to think that by rules and regulations he can secrue the real 
 education of the people. Character is the chief element in good 
 teaching, and character is the only product worth considering. 
 When our system is such as to establish as teachers men and 
 women who " think clearly, feel deeply, and bear fruit well," men 
 and women who have the power to teach with authority ; when 
 we have such teachers, we shall have people able to choose the 
 good and refuse the evil, taught both how to enjoy the world and 
 also how to enjoy God. 
 
 For forty-five years Mr. Barnett's desire to obtain better 
 equipment for teachers never weakened, and when he was 
 relieved from the strain of actual school management he 
 used his pen from the seclusion of the Abbey Cloisters with 
 vigorous frequency. It.' is impossible to summarise a 
 hundred articles, but the^'desne to break down professional 
 as well as class barriers, and to open the best to all who 
 would take it, runs through them all. 
 
TEACHERS' VACATIONS AT OXFORD 351 
 
 Among my treasured though not beautiful possessions is 
 a framed photograph bearing the inscription " Presented to 
 Mr. and Mrs. Barnett by the teachers in residence at Wad- 
 ham College, August 1889, as a token of their appreciation 
 of the services rendered by them to the cause of education." 
 How they came to be " in residence m Wadham College " 
 can be told by reprinting the leaflet which announced the 
 plan in 1885. 
 
 1885. — On the suggestion of the P^ev. S. A. Barnett, the Master and 
 Fellows of Balliol College, Oxford, have made arrangements for receiving 
 in College for the threeweeks from Saturday, August 1st, 1885, to Saturday, 
 August 22nd, about twenty teachers from the London Elementary Schools. 
 
 Lectures on various subjects will be given by members of the University ; 
 they will also be ready as far as possible to give advice and information to 
 those teachers who are preparing for examinations. 
 
 The College Library will be open for several hours every day, and per- 
 mission to use other Libraries can be had on application. 
 
 There will be opportunities for boating and cricket, and for excursions to 
 places of interest in the neighbourhood. 
 
 The Visitors will be lodged and boarded in College at a weekly charge 
 of £1 Is. ; this will cover aU items except beer, wine, or spirits. 
 
 They will be expected to conform to the ordinary rules of College dis- 
 cipline. The College gates are closed at 10 p.m. during the vacation. 
 
 In 1886 Sir William Markby and Dr. W. W. Jackson wrote 
 the Report. In it they say that thirty men were received 
 in Balliol and eighteen ia Exeter, and that — 
 
 The schoolmasters expressed a strong sense of the benefit they had 
 derived from their stay in Oxford. They showed a keen appreciation of 
 the lectures given to them as something different both in kind and degree 
 from the instruction they had previously received. They had also plainly 
 conceived a warm attachment to the University, and had gained an 
 entirely new insight into the services which the University is capable of 
 rendering to the general education of the country. 
 
 From the inception of the plan Mr. J. Murray Macdonald '■ 
 took the responsibility of the headship of the party. He 
 lectured every working day, and by Mr. Jowett's desire 
 attendance at his lectures was compulsory. Thus for eight 
 years all the teachers came under the influence of a character 
 which, by its simple directness, its unquestioning sub- 
 servience of private to public aims, and its intuitive recogni- 
 tion of the spiritual life as the only basis for conduct, could 
 not fail to do all men good. 
 
 In 1887 the mvitations came from Merton and Jesus, 
 
 1 The Bight Hon. J. Murray Macdonald. M.P., author of European Inter- 
 national Relations and The Constitutional Reconstruction of the Empire. 
 
352 TEACHERS' UNIVERSITY ASSOCIATION 
 
 and forty men went into residence for two weeks. The 
 next year the plans were more ambitious and the period of 
 the visit was extended to a month divided iato two terms. 
 Fifty-two men went up, some of whom stayed the whole 
 month, the tuition being generously given by fellows and 
 tutors, who kindly stayed up during the tune the teachers 
 were m Oxford. 
 
 From these visits grew the Teachers' University Associa- 
 tion, which, with Mr. Barnett as President, strove to " pro- 
 mote the training of teachers at the Universities." The 
 Committee included : 
 
 T. H. Wakkbn, M.A., President of Magdalen College, Oxford. 
 
 Rev. W. W. Jackson, M.A., Rector of Exeter College, Oxford. 
 
 Rev. E. H. Brabby, D.D., formerly Head Master of Haileybiiry. 
 
 Rev. J. Percival, D.D., Head Master of Rugby. 
 
 Sir W. Markby, D.C.L., Fellow of BaUiol and AU Souls', Oxford. 
 
 J. Murray Maodonald, Esq., 15, Thuxlow Road, Hampstead. 
 
 H. Dixon, M.A., F.R.S., Professor of Chemistry, Victoria University. 
 
 Rev. M. Creighton, D.C.L., Dixie Professor of Ecclesiastical History, 
 
 Cambridge. 
 Donald Maoalister, M.D., University Lecturer in Medicine, Cambridge. 
 Dr. Gladstone, Vice-Chaiiman School Board for London. 
 Rev. Mark Wilks, Member of the School Board for London. 
 W. RosTON Bourke, F.E.I.S., Member of the School Board for London. 
 E. B. Sargant, M.A., Secretary, Education Reform League. 
 R. G. Scott, M.A., Fellow and Tutor, Merton College, Oxford. 
 J. B. Btoy, M.A., FeUow of Trinity College, Dublin. 
 Right Hon. A. J. Mdndella, M.P. 
 Mrs. Barnett. 
 
 Various means were adopted to push the scheme, and 
 there were many deputations, one to Sir Wihiam Hart 
 Dyke— May 2l8t, 1887— headed by Professor Stuart, M.P. ; 
 another to the authorities at Oxford ; and a third to the 
 National Union of Teachers ; while of conferences, meetings, 
 etc., there was no end. To them all Mr. Barnett gave close 
 attention and directing sympathy, even when the inability 
 to be in several places at once hindered his presence. For 
 years the Association continued to use its influence for 
 obtaining the highest education for teachers, holding as its 
 principle the words my husband wrote long before Toynbee 
 Hall was founded : 
 
 1879. — I would repeat my belief that the education of the 
 people will not be satisfactory till it is widened by the introduction 
 of interesting subjects taught by more widely taught teachers. 
 
MR. R. W. KITTLE 353 
 
 Such a teacher . . . will give to the children the interest which will 
 kindle their intelligence and ^vill teach unconsciously lessons 
 which will make life better worth living. 
 
 Only a few teachers could, however, go to Oxford, and 
 therefore in Whitechapel opportunities of obtaining wider 
 knowledge were offered, not only through the classes open 
 to all comers, but by a Teachers' Association. Thus to a 
 very large number of serious-minded men and women, 
 Toynbee HaU became their intellectual home, and Mr. 
 R. W. Kittle their revered godfather. Of his influence even 
 he was not aware, but his humility, gentle courtesy, and 
 penetrating common-sense unconsciously rebuked conceit, 
 restrained obtrusiveness, and banished pretensions, while 
 his dedicating religion silently convicted the easy-going. 
 
 " Imagine a Toynbee gentleman wearing patched boots," 
 the Canon overheard a young teacher say. 
 
 " Why not ? It's Mr. Kittle," was the reply of one who 
 had learnt to understand something of the character great 
 enough to ignore conventions. 
 
 It is impossible to report the meetings, conferences, 
 lectures, rambles, excursions that grew up under Mr. Kittle's 
 fostering care. They ranged from a course on " Board 
 School Sore Throats" and "Thrift in Schools," to " Teaching 
 of History to Children" and "The Ethics of the Play- 
 ground." Men and women at the top of the profession, 
 such as Mrs. Bryant, Canon Glazebrook, Archdeacon 
 Wilson, Miss Beale, Dr. Percival, Dr. Abbott, Dr. Alex. 
 HOI, and Dr. W. W. Jackson came to speak to the ele- 
 mentary teachers and to build bridges over the gulf 
 between different classes in the same profession. The 
 spirit in which they were welcomed is best indicated by 
 quotations from Toynbee publications. 
 
 1889. — In dealing with teachers, we possess peculiar advantages. Our 
 own education has fitted us to some extent to feel with and assist them ; 
 and the University Extension Society, as it has here developed, with first- 
 rate lectures and a keen organic life — democratic, modest, and intelligent — 
 offers exactly the aid which our teachers, hving for the most part in great 
 intellectual isolation, and working under a system of all-engrossing " stan- 
 dards," are most in need of. 
 
 1892. — About 100 teachers from the nine Limehouse and St. George's 
 Schools met in the drawing-room on April 12th for a chat with each other. . . 
 At ten o'clock the Warden conducted the party round the Exhibition, and 
 expounded the pictures in his best form. N«edleas to say he thoroughly 
 
354 STUDY OF THE BIBLE 
 
 interested his audience, some of whom came up afterwards with parties 
 of their school children, and passed on the impressions they had received 
 in their quiet private view. . . The thought of the immense leverage of 
 such a body of teachers, if set single-heartedly to raise our young citizens, 
 is most uispiring. 
 
 1898. — Toynbee's connection with the schools has many attractions. 
 Residents who are quite unfit to influence the " lowest five per cent." find 
 their opening among teachers and chUdren. The teachers, with intellectual 
 interests awakened by their training, find a genial sphere in the intellectual 
 life of Toynbee Hall, and the young graduate, anxious to help, finds men 
 and women able to make use of him. 
 
 At many of the meetings for, or conferences with, teachers, 
 the Warden either took the chair, or if he could not spare 
 the whole evening, went in to welcome them or to bring a 
 pithy thought to the subject under discussion. His chief 
 contribution was given by Bible classes which he usually 
 took himself, though for the sessions of 1886 and 1887 Canon 
 Bradby, D.D., took a course on " The History of the Books 
 of the Bible," and in 1890 Dr. Abbott conducted some 
 memorable meetings. Dear to Mr. Barnett's heart was the 
 study of the Bible. In 1881 he wrote to the parishioners : 
 
 It is impossible to teach the Bible by means of sermons ; the 
 Book must be studied and understood as other books are. Such 
 students would not only find a new literary pleasure, but also 
 learn that religion rests on a firmer base than men's childish 
 memories or emotions. 
 
 It is a favourite dream of mine that some day such students 
 may meet in church, and together reverently work out the 
 meaning of old words. 
 
 The " dream " of discussing in church was never carried 
 out, for people were shy, and it is foolish to try to get 
 over two stiles at the same time ; but for years groups of 
 people, chiefly teachers, met either in the Vicarage or 
 Toynbee HaU drawing-rooms and " communed earnestly " 
 together. In these classes difficulties were boldly faced, 
 and though sometimes time was wasted on what people 
 rather boastfully called " doubts " and which could be more 
 truthfully dubbed ignorance, yet that no subject was 
 shirked or tabooed created confidence for those who were 
 reverently seeking light. 
 
 In 1898 a course on the " Religion of the Hebrews " gave 
 Mr. Barnett opportunity for showing how wonderful was 
 that nation, and how essential is the understanding of the 
 
RELIGION ONLY TAUGHT BY THE RELIGIOUS 355 
 
 Old Testament to the valuing of the New. The following 
 year lessons on The Pilgrim's Progress surprised those who 
 heard them, as wells of spiritual fancy were opened and 
 imagery deeper than fact explained. Further courses were 
 taken on the Miracles, St. Mark's Gospel, St. Paul's teaching, 
 and the importance of chronology in the evolution of re- 
 ligion. For some of the sessions' work careful syllabuses 
 were prepared. On other occasions Mr. Barnett shortly 
 introduced the subject and invited immediate discussion 
 with a freedom which shocked some good people. From 
 his long experience of teaching religion to chUdren he was 
 able to realise and solve many of the difficulties of teachers, 
 whom he always counselled to teach nothing but what they 
 believed to be true, and neither to trade on children's 
 credulity nor to anticipate their scepticism. On the much 
 debated subject of religious teachmg m the schools he has 
 written : 
 
 Religious education can only be undertaken by religious 
 persons. They who themselves hear the spirit-voices will teach 
 the children also ; they who know that right is might will be able 
 to make others understand that " right is right, since God is God, 
 and right the day must win ' ' ; they who through Jesus Christ 
 have found peace and joy in union with God will alone be able to 
 preach Him as the Way, the Truth, and the Life. . . 
 
 Religious education must be trusted to religious people, and 
 what electors should demand from candidates is not pledges 
 about hours and books of instruction, but the assurance that they 
 love truth and goodness, and will choose as teachers men and 
 women who will say what they believe, and do what they know 
 to be right. 
 
 No one knows, but he and I, of the fruit of these classes, 
 and often I have been thanked for his lessons with such 
 words as : 
 
 " It is not possible to describe the difference the class has 
 made to me. I see now that there are bigger things than 
 stumbling-blocks, and the children shall be told to see 
 them too." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 " As the workman gets more leisure — not enough to make hitn dull as 
 leisure now makes many of the rich dull — he vnll find excitement in thinking, 
 in beauty, and travel." 
 
 "It must be clearly borne in mind that the societies are not classes. In 
 them there is neither teacher nor taught. They are groups of men and 
 women who, mterested in the same subjects, meet together to exchange 
 thoughts and obtain information, and appeal especially to those minds 
 who find their happiest exercise not along the beaten track of class lessons, 
 but m self-guided speculation and inquiry." 
 
 These words explain the Toynbee societies which elected 
 their own officers and met their own expenses, though the 
 Council gave them house-room and hospitality. There were 
 a large number, the following being the most important : 
 
 Adam Smith Club. Literary Association. 
 
 Antiquarian Society. Literary and Discussion Society. 
 
 Art Students' Club. Natural History Society. 
 
 Athletic Association. Nursing Society. 
 
 Camera Club. Old Students' Association. 
 
 Chess Club. Orchestral Society. 
 
 Economic Club. Philosophical Society. 
 
 Education Reform League. Popular JIusical Union. 
 
 Elizabethan Literary Society. Sanitary Aid Society. 
 
 Ethical Society. Scientific Reading Society. 
 
 Football Club. Shakespeare Society. 
 
 Guild of Compassion. Students' LTnion. 
 
 Leonardo Sketching Club. St. John /Ambulance Brigade. 
 
 Life-saving Club. Society for helping women and girls. 
 
 Limehouse and Poplar Students' Swimmmg Club. 
 
 Union. Teachers' University Association. 
 London Pupil Teachers' Debating Travellers' Club. 
 
 Society. Vigilance Society. 
 
 Library Readers' Union. Workmen's Travelling Club. 
 
 Some of the societies had many members, others but few. 
 Under the wonderful leadership of Mr. G. L. Bruce, that 
 founded in 1886 for the study of natural history numbered 
 192, and had botanical, geological, and entomological sections. 
 
 366 
 
THE TOYNBEE SOCIETIES 357 
 
 1892. — Its fortunes have fluctuated. For a time the first enthusiasm 
 fell off, but the last two or three years have seen a great revival. Tliis 
 summer there have been two maui excursions, one in Juno to tlio Now 
 Forest, and one in July to Dartmoor, the former specially for Botany, the 
 latter for Cieology. About twenty went on each excursion and lived in 
 tents for about a week. The cost was 236-. for one and 42.5. for the other. . . 
 
 Various classes have grown out of the Society, and montlily meetings are 
 lield to liear lectures, see specimens, and foster good fellowship. . . If old 
 members will stiU work hard themselves, and welcome all who are willing 
 to work hard, however little they loiow, the Society will not exist in vain. 
 
 Seven years later the following programme showed the life 
 and energy of the Natural History Society to be unabated : 
 
 1899. — List of Lectures : 
 October 3rd. — " Plant Mosaics," by A. G. Tansley, M.A., F.L.S. 
 November Ith. — " Volcanoes," by A. M. Davies, B.Sc, F.G.S. 
 December 5th. — Entomological paper by J. S. Sequerra, M.E.C.S. 
 January Qth. — President's Address. 
 
 February Gth. — " Some Pond Life Studies," by D. J. Scourfield. 
 March (jih. — " Bacteria as Friends of Man," by V. H. Blackman, M.A. 
 April lOth. — " The Geological History of Plants," by G. E. Shaw. 
 3Iay 1st. — " Fruits and Seeds of British Plants," by T. A. Dymes. 
 June 5th.—" The Flora of the Tyrol," by Dr. Stapf. 
 
 Excursions were arranged to the following places : Brighton Downs, 
 Sevenoaks, Leith Hill, Hayes and Keston, Chingford, Caterham, Redhill, 
 Burnham-on-Crouch, Reigate, Felday (four days Easter), Burnham 
 Beeches, Aylesbury, Loughton, Limpsfield, Chorley Wood, Hayling Island 
 (three days at Whitsuntide), Weybridge, Broxbourne, Chatham, and 
 Switzerland (three weeks). 
 
 Entrance fee. Is. Annual subscription, la. 
 
 But no bald facts can express the value of the work of the 
 society or its virile influence on the minds and characters 
 of its members. 
 
 The Antiquarian Society also was large and active, and 
 an account of its visits to old buildings, papers on brasses, 
 investigations into ancient lore, or enjojmient of disputed 
 points, would fill pages. The value of the societies did not, 
 however, depend on large numbers, and those, whose mem- 
 bers were few, often made up for the interest of excitement, 
 by the closer relationship that exists when " two or three 
 are gathered together." The work of the classes and the 
 societies became very interdependent. Members often 
 joined a society for its social interest, and thereby finding 
 themselves stimulated to desire more knowledge, joined 
 classes ; or else, those who sought knowledge first by direct 
 teaching, and later desired the companionship of others with 
 similar interests, became members of a society. 
 
358 SELF-GOVERNMENT OF SOCIETIES 
 
 The^musical societies were very energetic and provided 
 music for the social gatherings of other bodies. To Mrs. 
 Aves' and Miss Rosabel Watson's generosity of service 
 AVhitechapel owes the series of classical concerts that were 
 given for nearly thirty years on Sunday afternoons in the 
 lecture-hall. 
 
 The self-government of the societies led to some interesting 
 experiments, and it is tempting to teU of the work of Mr. 
 R. E. Mitchison and his philosophical followers ; of Mr. 
 A. P. Laurie and his group of seekers after scientific truth ; 
 of Mr. James Bonar and his students of economics, as well 
 as many others. But the temptation has to be resisted, for 
 it is of Mr. Barnett's work that this book has to teU. Of 
 several of the societies he was asked to be President, and for 
 aU he obtained the learned among our friends to give 
 addresses or welcome the members in interesting places. 
 These lecturers we usually entertained at dinner at half- 
 past six, and after coffee in the Toynbee drawing-room and 
 talk with all and sundry, we returned at eight o'clock to the 
 Vicarage- — later the Warden's Lodge- — locked the com- 
 municating doors, and reaUy rested for an hour. At nine 
 o'clock we again took up duty, and for the next hour or so 
 went round the classes, visited the societies, looked in at 
 parties to make short speeches or chat with the guests. We 
 always divided between us what had to be done, and soon 
 after ten o'clock our own drawing-room saw us both again, 
 my little tea-table surrounded by lecturers, Residents, 
 Associates, and old friends who knew we were to be then 
 found. They were delightful opportunities for introductions 
 between delightful people, and wider ever wider became 
 friendship's circles. 
 
 Public service grew from some of the societies. Thus the 
 Nursing Society- — ninety-one members — stimulated by Mr. 
 W. H. Winny's ceaseless labour, did valuable work, and 
 pioneered some of the plans which have now become recog- 
 nised municipal duties. Ailing children m schools were 
 visited, the sick attending the out-patient dispensaries 
 taught how to obey the doctor's instructions, and a friendly 
 hold kept on aU the convalescents on their return from 
 Erskine House. 
 
 The Toynbee division of the St. John's Ambulance Brigade 
 also existed to serve. It turned out on aU occasions when 
 crowds were expected, and we felt a thrill of pride when at 
 King Edward's Coronation they received a cheer for their 
 
PUBLIC SERVICE OP SOCIETIES 359 
 
 smart appearance. Later they carried off the Efficiency 
 Cup presented to the best division in the Metropolitan Corps. 
 The Art Students' Club, under the fostermg care of Mr. 
 and Mrs. T. Hancock Nunn, discovered unexpected talent, 
 fostered deep friendships, and provided not only many 
 opportunities for valumg nature, but also an art-room which 
 enabled students to do quiet work on Sundays, and humbler 
 people to share then pleasure in beauty. The Council 
 reported : 
 
 1902. — The Art Room was formed to carry out a hope of Mrs. Barnett, 
 who planned to hold there a sort of picture soiree on Thursday evenings. 
 Talks were arranged, pictures were brought, books were gathered, and 
 some very pleasant evenings were enjoyed. Mrs. Bamett's illness took 
 away her help, and so the plan was not kept up through the whole winter. 
 But enough was done to show that men and women will come to look at 
 pictures and spend quiet hours enjoying the talk of people who can tell 
 their meaning and value. The plan lies waiting for workers. 
 
 The largest of the Toynbee societies was the Travellers' 
 Club, numbering at its zenith 234 members. It grew out of 
 the resolve we registered in St. Peter's at Rome, to show the 
 St. Jude's workers some of the marvels we were enjojdng. 
 For seven years the seed lay dormant but never forgotten, 
 and when Toynbee Hall was built and Mr. Bolton King 
 whole-heartedly threw his life and work into East London, 
 it became possible to bring it to fruition. Italy was our 
 first goal, and so during the winter of 1887 the would-be 
 travellers heard lectures, saw photographs, and read books 
 on Italy and her history, Florence and her art, Milan and 
 her galleries, and Antwerp and her buildings. Neither were 
 the conditions of the countries passed en route neglected, 
 and we were further instructed on Switzerland's government 
 and Belgium's trade. 
 
 How well I recall the last meeting of that winter's work, 
 when everyone was bubbling with excitement and we were 
 harangued on minimum baggage, and received one of Mr. 
 Barnett's inimitable addresses on unselfishness in travel. 
 On our return we heard much chaff on that sermonette, it 
 being reported by friends who had seen us in the train 
 crossing the Alps that we were all huddled together in the 
 centres of the carriages, everybody being too unselfish to 
 look out of the windows in case another's view should be 
 intercepted ! However, though that was a fiction, it is true 
 that there could not be a party more possessed with the spirit 
 of helpfulness and camaraderie, or more prolific of jokes. 
 
360 TOYKBEE TRAVELLERS' CLUB 
 
 We crossed to Antwerp on Tuesday, March 27th, 1888, 
 and after a day spent among its wonders, occupied our 
 special train for the night, and reached Lucerne early in the 
 mornmg. There we were met by the news that an avalanche 
 had fallen on the summit of the St. Gothard pass and that 
 no trains were running. What was to be done 1 Eighty- 
 one tired and homeless travellers, hardly any of whom had 
 left England before ! For a few moments we quailed before 
 this breakdown in the organisation, and then the party 
 was asked to wait, and Mr. Barnett, Mr. Bolton King, 
 Mr. Ward, Mr. Okey, and I went off to the town to find accom- 
 modation. Of course the big noted hotels refused us, but 
 M. Zahringer, of the Hotel des Balances on the Reuss, 
 considered for five minutes and then said : 
 
 " I give you eighty-one beds and three good meals for 
 seven francs a head, and breakfast can be ready in twenty 
 miniates after the party arrive "■ — and it was ! 
 
 We blessed that avalanche which enabled not only 
 Lucerne to be enjoyed, but gave us the experience of walking 
 over the blocking snow, and incidentally some fine snow- 
 balling. The " Battle of Brugnasco " the fighters called 
 it, while the gendarme, who solemnly took names and 
 addresses, pronounced it " un incident inoroyable." After 
 a day at Milan we reached Florence and found much 
 welcome. To each of us a ticket was presented franking 
 us into aU the galleries, no slight privilege as it allowed 
 many to revisit favourite pictures or to go for short times 
 unhindered by calculation of francs. 
 
 Our days were carefully arranged. Every evening after 
 dmner the party, which was accommodated in three hotels, 
 met in the rooms generously lent by Dr. Coldstream, and 
 after lectures from the Dean of Wmdsor,^ Professor Vfilari, 
 or " Vernon Lee," the three-fold programme for the next 
 day was announced by Mr. Bolton King, and the eighty-one 
 asked to select where they would go. Thus all tastes were 
 satisfied. Mr. Barnett and I often led a group, and delightful 
 were the mornings spent in beautiful and sunny surround- 
 ings, with those with whom we had long worked amid dirt 
 and gloom. In the afternoons the whole party was wel- 
 comed by Italian hosts in their charming villas, or made 
 expeditions to see the beautiful country encirclmg Florence. 
 The organisation went without a hitch. Great harmony 
 prevailed among the travellers, among whom bM social classes 
 ^ Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
FIRST JOURNEY TO ITALY 
 
 361 
 
 were represented. In 1892, when the Toynbee Travellers' 
 Club was fully established, it took out the following list of 
 their members' occupations ; but to our first party more 
 Toynbee Residents were joined ; and a few married friends 
 such as Mr. and Mrs. Michael Sadler, my husband's brother 
 and his wife, and Mr. and Mrs. Bartholomew, went with us 
 and made for serenity. 
 
 Civil Service : Post Office 
 
 „ „ Other Departments 
 
 Clerks and Salesmen 
 
 Domestic : Married 
 „ Unmarried . 
 
 Miscellaneous : Architects (2) ; Basket 
 Maker ; Book-binders (2) ; Brush 
 Maker ; Bmlder ; Chemist's Assistant ; 
 Hospital Nurse ; L.S.B. Kindergarten 
 Instructor ; Journalists (2) ; Lecturers 
 (2) ; Librarian ; Printers (2) ; Re- 
 porter ; Sculptor ; Secretary ; Shop- 
 keepers (4) ; SoUoitoi-s (2) ; Solicitors' 
 Clerks (2) ; Watchmaker ; Wood-carver 
 
 Teachers — London School Board . 
 
 „ Others . . . . 
 
 Women. 
 
 Men. 
 
 Total 
 
 — 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 . — 
 
 8 
 
 8 
 
 . 3 
 
 14 
 
 17 
 
 . 13 
 
 — 
 
 13 
 
 . 5 
 
 — 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 23 
 
 30 
 
 45 
 
 16 
 
 61 
 
 9 
 
 — 
 
 9 
 
 82 
 
 71 
 
 153 
 
 delle Arte del Toynbee Hall 
 di Londra. 
 
 ^^k0/L^..^A... ^4--:^^ 
 
 ed alha&SQ^^omponenti la Comitiva del Toynbee Hall 
 li Londra, di visitare gratuimente le Gallerie e Musei 
 
 ^^ifsnze. 
 
 /^p. Vahvole fino a 12 Aprile, 1888. 
 
 m%-i888. 
 
 JidUi IL^^ 
 
 Segntario. 
 
 1—25 
 
362 TRAVEL TEACHES HUMILITY 
 
 It was a great pleasure to invite some who could not other- 
 wise have travelled to be our guests, one of whom shall tell 
 her own tale : 
 
 On February 14th, 1888, I had a letter from Mrs. Bariiett saying that 
 a gentleman had handed £5 to her to help anyone who would like to go to 
 Florence to do so. Would I like to avaU myself of the opportunity ? It 
 would cost about £11. The letter came by the breakfast post. My 
 acceptance was posted by 8.30 and I walked to school — Spitalfields — on 
 air. " I want an extra week's hoUday to go to Italy at Easter," I breathed 
 to the head master. " Italy," he fairly yeUed it, and understanding at 
 last I was going with St. Jude's, he could only murmur very brokenly, 
 " Why don't they take you all up in balloons ? What next ? " 
 
 The party returned by Pisa, the Genoese Riviera, and 
 Brussels, and arrived in Whitechapel eighteen days after 
 they had started, each £10 6s. Id. the poorer in pocket and 
 richer by iacalculable value ia the things that matter. 
 
 Soon our experiment of co-operative travelling got into 
 the newspapers, and some wild thmgs were written, to 
 counteract which Mr. Barnett sent a letter to The Spectator, 
 June 23rd, 1888, from which the following is taken : 
 
 The reign of the industrial spirit in modern life has its glories, 
 but under its sway beauty is destroyed, and the half-milUon of 
 people who inhabit the Tower Hamlets hve tinder a smoke- 
 darkened sky amid depressing surroundings. The compensation 
 which the industrial spirit offers to men for the destruction of 
 those things which enable them to bless God for their creation, 
 is the possibility of travel. If our cities make a " blacker, 
 incessanter hne," and if the calm of our fathers is gone, we have 
 the power they never enjoyed of learning the ways, the thought, 
 the life of other countries. The possibihty is, though, open only 
 to a minority of people. It is only the few who have traditions 
 of travel, and it has never occurred to a Trades-Union to strike 
 for wages which will enable its members to spend an annual 
 holiday abroad. 
 
 Such a party, however, has a record which is of pubhc interest, 
 and since it has been shown that the impulse which has brought 
 to Whitechapel the best teaching of the Universities is able to 
 carry on the teaching in Florence, it may be fairly asked — " What 
 is the good ? " 
 
 If the element of generahty be gathered from recollection, the 
 answer might be — " A sense of humility." . . . 
 
 Brought face to face in Florence with a life which expressed 
 itself in building, in painting, in sculpture, they felt a quickening 
 of brain as they strove to understand this new language and a 
 widening of sympathy as they realised that success cannot 
 
FRUITFUL WEEKS 363 
 
 always be measured. Arnolfo and Brunelleschi were something 
 else than architects who built houses and churches to make 
 money. Giotto, Fra Angelico, and Alichelangelo were clearly 
 moved by some other force than the desire to do a picture 
 business. A party of EngUsh people might bo content to be 
 ignorant of the names of artists so long as they hold artists to be 
 mere decorators obedient to the fancies of their paymasters ; but 
 in Florence, where art may be seen to be part of life, there can 
 be no such content with ignorance. Questions were eagerly put 
 as to the life of the men. It is humiUating for those who believe 
 that all thought can be expressed by the printing-press, and all 
 action represented by the steam-engine, to confess that men who 
 thought as clearly as themselves and did great deeds in their 
 day, found the expression of their thought and action in Art. it 
 is humihating to see that a factor is left out m our system of the 
 universe. And at Florence many of our party reahsed that in 
 their system they had left out Art. They were humbled by the 
 new hght, and perhaps also by the revelation that there are 
 heights above the nineteenth century. 
 
 Of the value of what Mr. Barnett said, as he told un- 
 affectedly his thoughts of the world's masterpieces, I had 
 an evidence the other day, when the Rev. G. Hudson Shaw, 
 lecturing at the Hampstead Garden Suburb Institute on 
 " Mediseval Florence," startled me by attributing his care 
 for art to that Italian visit. 
 
 " To me those three weeks were more fruitful than my 
 four years at Oxford," sounded like exaggeration, but from 
 others has come similar testimony, and only last week I 
 saw a letter from Mr. J. Beck Forman who told his news- 
 paper readers of his recollections of Orcagna's picture in 
 the Campo Santo at Pisa as seen twenty-eight years ago 
 with Canon Barnett " of revered memory." 
 
 On several occasions Mr. Barnett and I joiaed the T.T.C. 
 tours, and in 1892 we took responsibility for a party of 
 thirty-nine, and had a glorious visit to Venice, Verona, 
 Munich, and Cologne. As time went on the T.T.C. grew 
 strong and vigorous, organised long and ambitious tours, 
 and issued voluminous reports : 
 
 1892. — The Toynbee Travellers' Club has ventured on three excursions 
 this year, the innovation being one at Whitsuntide to Paris, the special 
 aim being to study objects connected with the French Revolution of 1789, 
 and to the guidance of M. Emile Corra, who possesses an unrivalled know- 
 ledge of the topography of the Revolution, the party was greatly indebted. 
 Thirty-four took part in the excursion, and stayed away for nine days at 
 an average cost of £4 93. 6d. per head. About forty-five joined the summer 
 
3G4 DISSOLUTION OF T.T.C. 
 
 Hwias party ; and at Easter 1892 a party of fifty-five went to Rome for 
 what proved to be one of the most successful expeditions as yet organised 
 by the Club. They were absent eighteen days at a cost of £13 8s. Id. per 
 head. 
 
 18'J7. — Ihe Toynbee Travellers, happy ia then years of wandering, have 
 signalised the year 189ti by an enterprismg and successful Expedition to 
 Iceland, and Easter of 1897 by another to Spam. Our grandfathers would 
 have rubbed their eyes on bemg told that the cost of the latter for twenty- 
 four days was £lb 15s., and perhaps they would have been stiU more 
 surprised at the expedition at Whitsuntide when eight days were spent ia 
 Normandy at a cost of £4 7s. 3d, 
 
 The periodic meetiags ia the Toynbee drawing-room were 
 pleasant occasions when old friends met, heard new ex- 
 periences, cemented friendships, and enjoyed the club's 
 reaUy splendid trophies. For twenty-iive years the club 
 lived, and then formally dissolved itself, at its annual general 
 meetiQg, October 23rd, 1913. At first it kept its original 
 intention of providing co-operative travel for those who 
 were studying together, but later the voting decided to 
 open the club to elected outsiders. From that time it lost 
 its chief significance, and in spite of Mr. Thomas Okey's, 
 Mr. A. C. Hajrward's, and Mr. F. V. Tmpia's splendid gifts 
 of service, the progress of its barque was not without storms. 
 
 Through all its vicissitudes Mr. Barnett remained the 
 club's President and its friend, though his faithfulness 
 forced him to action which sometimes strained the relation- 
 ship, as, for instance, when the club claimed the right to 
 invite to its meetings anyone it fancied, even persons of 
 tarnished reputation, forgetful that it was itself only the 
 guest of Toynbee HaU, which was supported by philanthropic 
 funds ; or when it refused to welcome as club members men 
 and women of humbler social status, or to share the collection 
 of books, photographs, or other treasures which had accrued 
 to it from the help of many, not always self-obtamed, 
 friends. All these difficulties have gone and need not be 
 remembered, except that they serve to illustrate much of 
 Mr. Barnett's work which was not a sequence of triumphal 
 initiations, achievements, and successes, but frequently a 
 series of disappointments in people or failures in plans, com- 
 peUing acceptance of an upward path strewn with barriers, 
 often created by trivial conventions or class snobbery- — the 
 last most active among those whose generous impulses 
 had been warped in the struggle to raise themselves. To 
 the end of the T.T.C. 's life the relations were harmonious 
 and the memory of a June river excursion is f uU of pleasure : 
 
WORKIIEN'S TRAVELLING CLUB 365 
 
 To Mrs. F. G. B., June 22nd, 1909.— On Saturday we joined the 
 Toynbee Travellers, who kept their 21st birthday at Hampton 
 Court. There were 215, and many of the Florence party whom 
 yoxi would remember. We wore all very happy together in 
 renewing memories. Bolton King was there. 
 
 We both felt very strongly that the advantages of travel 
 sliould not be limited to any class, and therefore in December 
 1902 the Toynbee Workmen's Travelling Club was founded 
 by Mr. H. R. Maynard and Mr. Thomas W. Glare. It was 
 an indirect result of a Trades Union conference, and in 
 reporting its intention the Toynbee Report said : 
 
 1903. — ^Partly because workmen have not secured holidays of periods 
 but only holidays of days, partly because travel seems to involve too much 
 adventure and money, they turn aside from proposals to spend a week or 
 ten days on the Continent as something not for them. Ignorant that 
 foreign travel is as easy as home travel, and that the expense of a visit to 
 the Continent is probably less than that of a week at Margate. 
 
 Though it aimed at foreign travel, the Workmen's Travel- 
 ling Club did not neglect Saturday visits to places of interest 
 in or near London, and whole-day excursions on Whit 
 Mondays to Oxford and Cambridge. It also visited Brussels 
 and Antwerp, Paris and Rouen ; parties of thirty to forty 
 men leaving London on the Thursdays before Easter and 
 returning on the following Tuesdays. In 1913 I vras 
 honoured by being elected President of the club, and greatly 
 hoped in 1914 to have gone to Normandy with its members, 
 but ill-health prevented, and a long afternoon that they 
 kindly spent with me in the Garden Suburb was but a poor 
 substitute. 
 
 It was not only for those who joined the classes or societies 
 that higher education was provided. Every Saturday the 
 beautifully panelled lecture-haU was freely opened to any- 
 one who cared to listen to the distinguished men who 
 " responded with alacrity to the invitation to come " and 
 speak to an audience that represented no political party, 
 no religious organisation, and whose manners and clothing 
 gave evidence that all classes in East London were present. 
 It was no small j)rivilege to be introduced to mysteries new 
 and old by those who brought for our histruction the results 
 of their life's labours. 
 
 Mr. Barnett often told his brother of his pleasure in the 
 lectures : 
 
366 TOYNBEE LECTURES 
 
 October 23rd, 1885. — Last Saturday Lubbock gave a lecture. 
 Most interesting was it to hear of the ants. They are our brothers 
 and sisters, and in some way have higher developments. Per- 
 haps indeed they have another sense which understands those 
 vibrations which he between the 1,300 which we hear and the 
 millions which we see. 
 
 February 23rd, 1897. — In the evening Haweis lectured on 
 " Music, the Art of the Age," a lecture which in one way was a 
 model. It held the people by making them tingle with mirth 
 while he poured in thoughts. 
 
 March IQth, 1897. — On Saturday Sir Francis Grenfell lectured 
 on Egypt. It is always good to meet and hear men who have 
 done brave things and he told the tale simply. On Sunday Dr. 
 Fairbairn lectured on Luther. He is a man of whom I hold a 
 very high opinion. He is a clear thinker and has a gift of lan- 
 guage. Better than this he feels, and he fetched the audience 
 while he let them into the forces which were at work behind what 
 we call the Reformation. 
 
 On Tuesday Herkomer lectured to a room full of teachers, on 
 "Art-teaching," and made them sit up while he told how the 
 present system failed and what system was possible. He would 
 set children to draw, then eliminate those obviously unfit, then 
 teach the others by letting them see their teacher work, and 
 calling on them to do original work. Ait is, I suppose, the 
 stimulating and the restraining of the imagination, the teaching 
 of the sense of proportion. If this be so, how practically im- 
 portant it is, and how good art teaching would prevent, on one 
 side narrowness and extravagance, on the other side indifference. 
 These are the sins of all time. 
 
 December llth, 1897. — As our lecturer we had Mrs. Humphry 
 Ward, who in exquisite EngUsh gave us a paper on the " Peasant 
 in the Novel " — a most interesting survey of 2,000 years, in which 
 by quotations she showed how the peasant character had been 
 illustrated, culminating in the books of the present day, of which 
 she put Cole's Iceland Fishers at the top. 
 
 1890. — Lord Herschell lectured and was splendid. He did not 
 preach, but he dug round all the arguments and the manner of 
 life they showed, till everyone was, unknown to himself, changed. 
 That is the way to preach, but what shrewdness of thought and 
 what self-abnegation it shows ! To-night Lord Brassey comes to 
 dine. We get too many lords. 
 
MR. MARCONI'S INVENTION 367 
 
 The Toynbee Council also report some interesting oc- 
 casions : 
 
 1886. — The Saturday popular lectures throughout the winter, which 
 have been given by persons as eminent in their various spheres as Lord 
 Wolseley, Mr. Tom Hughes, Mr. Lewis Morris, and Mr. Farmer, Sir John 
 Lubbock, Sir Walter Beaant, Mr. Romanes, and Mrs. Fawcett, have been 
 well attended. Professors Seeley, Norman Lockyer, Gardiner, Tylor, 
 Burdon Sanderson, have also responded with alacrity to our invitations 
 to instruct or entertain a Whitechapel audience, and Mr. John Farmer has 
 delivered lectures on the teaching of music to the Board School masters of 
 the neighbourhood. 
 
 I well recall my husband's enthusiastic description of 
 Mr. Marconi's new discovery, which was first publicly shown 
 in our lecture-haU. 
 
 " It will bring mankind together," he said, " and make 
 for peace and goodwill." 
 
 The Westminster Gazette described the occasion- — Decem- 
 ber 12th, 1896 : 
 
 Mr. W. H. Preece, the telegraphic expert of the Post Office, had a sur- 
 prise in store for his audience at Toynbee HaU on Saturday night, when he 
 lectured, under the presidency of Canon Barnett, on " Telegraphy without 
 Wires." . . . Towards the close of his lecture he announced that a Mr. 
 Marconi, a young Italian electrician, came to him recently with a system 
 of telegraphy without wire, depending not on electro-magnetic but on 
 electrostatic effects — that is to say, on electric waves set up of a much 
 higher rate of vibration, 250,000,000 a second in fact. These vibrations 
 were projected through space in straight lines, and could be reflected and 
 refracted like light. . . 
 
 Mr. Marconi was present that night, and this was the first occasion 
 on which the apparatus had been shown, except to the Government 
 officials. . . 
 
 The apparatus was then established. What appeared to be just two 
 ordinary boxes were stationed at each end of the room, the current was 
 set in motion at one, and a beU was immediately rung in the other. " To 
 show that there was no deception ' ' Mr. Marconi held the receiver and 
 carried it about, the bell ringing whenever the vibrations at the other box 
 were set up. 
 
 Mr. Preece said he had had the greatest possible pleasure in telling 
 Mr. Marconi that day that the Post Office had decided to spare no 
 expense in experimenting with the apparatus, and one of the first trials 
 would be from Penarth to an island in the Channel. He might add 
 that he had the greatest faith in the apparatus. If the experiments 
 were successful, it would be of inestimable value to our ships, for it would 
 provide an easy way of communicating with lightships and lighthouses. 
 Neither day nor night made any difference, neither rain nor snow would 
 interfere with them, and if the invention was what he believed it to be, 
 our mariners would have been given a new sense and a new friend which 
 ■would make navigation infinitely easier and safer than it now was. 
 
368 THURSDAY EVENING DEBATES 
 
 We were really very grateful to aU these public-spirited 
 and delightful people who shared their best thoughts with 
 our neighbours, but sometimes I fear we forgot to say so. 
 
 " The odd part of it is," said Canon Ainger to a mutual 
 friend, " that the Barnetts rarely thank you, but take it for 
 granted that you should come and give gratis what you 
 usually receive a useful cheque for ; but then they live 
 there, and we only go for an evening once a year. That is 
 their pull." 
 
 At the Saturday and Sunday lectures the audience were 
 not expected to speak, but on Thursday evenings they were 
 encouraged to debate. As long ago as 1879 Mr. Barnett and 
 Mr. James Bryce had begun the plan in relation to their work 
 with the Liberal Three Hundred- — in the hope of teaching the 
 voters what they were voting about. 
 
 The " Literary and Discussion Society," as it was then 
 called, met in our small, dark, up-the-passage school- 
 rooms ; but when Toynbee was built, it moved into 
 the lecture-hall. From the beginning it attracted a class 
 of men who rarely attended lectures, and the mtroduction 
 of the soothing but hardly fragrant pipe resulted in 
 keeping women out, and bringing in the audience for 
 whom the debates were arranged. Of these debates the 
 Toynbee Report said : 
 
 1898. — A reproach sometimes levelled at Toynbee Hall, that it caters 
 rather for the " middle " than for the " working " class, does not applj^, 
 at least, to the Debates. It is, of course, true that the " middle class " is 
 predisposed to swallow with avidity whatever it believes to represent the 
 culture of the upper ten thousand, while the working man allects rather 
 a distant independence that is easily mistaken for hostility. At any rate, 
 it is certain that at our debates we meet the genuine British working man 
 (not merely those of the poorer class), and perhaps a large enough selection 
 (for the weekly audience averages 200 to 250) to enable us to judge of his 
 views and ideals, his knowledge and his prejudices. . . 
 
 Though the bulk of the audience is Radical in sympathies, very few 
 evenings have passed without the discussion having a real educational 
 value, making it clear to those who were present that most questions are 
 many-sided. On the whole, these evenings have been a great success ; 
 the audiences have been large and rightly composed, the temper good, 
 and the discussions keen ; the debates have earned a good reputation for 
 their fairness, their interest, their value, and, on the whole, their thorough- 
 ness. 
 
 Descriptions of a few of these evenings are worth re- 
 printing, all the more because they are dated twenty-seven 
 years ago : 
 

 o 
 
 H 
 
 K 
 
 
 o 
 
 
VALUE OF FREE DEBATE 369 
 
 1889. — Our first debate this season took place on October 3rd, when Mr. 
 Ben Tillett introduced " The Future of the Dockers' Union." The hall 
 was crowded to overflowing with the " dockers," flushed by their recent 
 victory. Great enthusiasm prevailed, and the success of the Union is 
 assured if the men remain in their present frame of mind. 
 
 1889. — ^Mr. George Smith, of Coalville, opened a debate on " Gipsies and 
 Tramps." Again our hall was crowded to excess. Much amusement was 
 caused by one of the debaters, a tramp who related his experiences of 
 many casual wards. He said it was im.possible to get a day's work after 
 spending a night in the workhouse, as the task work to be done kept one 
 too late on the foUowing morning. He also referred to the disheartening 
 effect of some of the work, and related a case in point where (at Yarmouth) 
 casuals had to shovel ballast through a hole, and when they had finished 
 they were marched round and told to shovel it back again. Surely we 
 might learn something of the dignity of labour from the " casual " view. 
 
 1889. — A very crowded gathering fiUed the haU to overflowing, showing 
 the great interest which East London takes in the subject of " Sugar 
 Bounties," which Mr. David Martineau opened. He tried very hard, 
 with all his special knowledge, to prove that the imposition of a duty on 
 bounty-fed sugar would not increase its price, and that this imposition 
 was in thorough accord with the principles of free trade. . . The audience, 
 however, would have none of this ; they would not be persuaded mto 
 refusing the bounties which foreign nations taxed themselves to give us. 
 
 The history of the debates was a chequered one. Some- 
 tunes it seemed useless to provide a meeting-place where 
 rank rubbish was talked by the audience, but then again 
 there was always the three-quarters of an hour during which 
 everyone listened to an expert, and there were the twenty 
 minutes when in reply he again showed wisdom. Also there 
 was the large body of silent listeners ; and the gradual 
 development of a conscience of what was or was not ad- 
 visable to be said. The tone of the meeting was a sensitive 
 thermometer to public events, and my husband was more 
 than once urged at periods of social unrest to withdraw the 
 opportunities of meeting, but his conviction that good was 
 stronger than evil prevailed, and he never closed the de- 
 bates. He used to argue also that the very violence of 
 some of the speakers' enmity towards law and right would, 
 by the principle of opposition, result in making others 
 defend, if only mentally, what had been attacked. 
 
 The subjects of the lectures and debates and the names 
 of those who dealt with them for two, and sometimes three, 
 evenings a week for twenty-two years, are too many to be 
 given; but knowing that my readers can always skip, it 
 gives me pleasure to set out the names of some who rendered 
 
370 
 
 LIST OF SOME WHO SERVED 
 
 this service to those whose lives had little of what was best. 
 Each person is mentioned but once, though in many cases 
 the name covers annual visits. 
 
 1890. Ben Tillett . 
 Earl Compton, M.P. 
 H. H. Asquith, M.P 
 
 ,, Lord Balfour of Bur 
 
 leigh . 
 ,, Lord Monteagle 
 ,, Montague Crackan 
 
 thorpe, Q.C. 
 ,, Canon WUberforce 
 
 1891. Sir H. C. Cunning- 
 
 liam 
 R. B. Haldane, Q.C. 
 
 M.P. 
 
 „ SirSydneyWaterlow 
 „ Hon. Bernard 
 
 Coleridge, M.P. . 
 „ Herbert Burrows 
 „ Henry Cuninghame. 
 „ Misa Beatrice Potter 
 
 1892. Hon. E. Lyulph 
 Stanley 
 
 " The Future of the Dockers' Union." 
 " Housing of the V\''orkuig Classes." 
 " The House of Lords." 
 
 " Leasehold Enfranchisement." 
 " Irish Land Purchase." 
 
 " State Socialism." 
 
 " Total Abstinence or Moderate Drinking." 
 
 " Has English Government helped India ? " 
 
 " The Law of Combination and Conspiracy." 
 " Hospitals, Voluntary or State ? " 
 
 " International Trades' Unions." 
 " Socialism and the Unemployed." 
 " London Coal Dues." 
 " Sweating." 
 
 " The School Board Election." 
 
 R. T. Beid, Q.C, M.P. " Rate-supported Free Libraries.' 
 
 ,, Mrs. Fawcett. 
 
 „ Stepniak 
 
 „ C. Howard Vincent, 
 
 M.P. . 
 „ J. A. Spender 
 ,, H. L. W. Lawaon 
 1893. B.F.CosteUoe,L.C.C. 
 „ J.Murray Macdonald, 
 
 M.P. . 
 „ Tom Maim . 
 „ Lord Monkswell, 
 
 L.C.C. 
 Prof. Stuart, M.P. . 
 ,, W. H. Dickinson, 
 
 L.C.C. 
 „ J. Fletcher Moulton, 
 
 Q.C. . 
 
 1895. Cyril Jack son, 
 
 M.L.S.B. . 
 „ Henry Ward, L.C.C. 
 „ J. Williams Benn, 
 
 M.P., L.C.C. 
 „ Alderman Beaoh- 
 
 croft, L.C.C. 
 
 1896. T. J. Macnamara, 
 
 M.L.S.B. . 
 1^ Herbert Samuel 
 
 " Justice and Expediency." 
 " The Russian Crisis." 
 
 " United Empire Trade." 
 
 "Pension Schemes for Old Age." 
 
 " Ought Canada to Join the United States 7 " 
 
 " London Taxation." 
 
 " The Eight Hours' Day." 
 " Docks and Dockers." 
 
 " Alien Immigration." 
 
 " University Teaching for Workmen." 
 
 " London Government." 
 
 " Our Occupation of Egypt." 
 
 " Truant and Industrial Schools." 
 " The County Council Election." 
 
 " The Working Man in America." 
 
 " Communications with the Suburbs." 
 
 " The People's Schools." 
 
 " Liberalism and Social Reform," 
 
SUBJECTS DISCUSSED 
 
 371 
 
 1896. Sir Edward Grey, 
 
 Bart. . 
 
 1897. Wm. Crooks, L.C.C. 
 Hon. W. P. Reeves 
 
 „ Corrie Grant . 
 
 1898. Fred Rogers . 
 
 1899. L. A. Atherley Jones, 
 
 Q.CM.P. . 
 „ Mrs. Garrett Ander 
 
 son, M.D. . 
 ,, Earl of Portsmouth 
 
 1900. J. St. Loe Strachey 
 
 „ Major Leonard Dar 
 
 win . 
 „ J. A. Simon . 
 
 1901. Hilaire Belloo 
 ,, Dadabhai Naoroji 
 ,, Fabian Ware . 
 
 F. W. Hirst . 
 
 ,, Sir W. Wedderbum 
 
 Edgar Foa . 
 
 1902. J. Ramsay Mac 
 
 donald 
 „ The Bishop of Step 
 ney . 
 
 1903. Edward R. Pease 
 
 ,, Dr. Farquharson, 
 
 M.P. . 
 ,, Percy Alden . 
 „ G. Bernard Shaw 
 
 19U4. C. R. Buxton 
 ,, W. H. Beveridge 
 
 1905. Sir John Gorst.K.C. 
 M.P. . 
 „ George Lansbury 
 
 " British Foreign Policy." 
 
 " The Armenian Difficulty." 
 
 " Labour Legislation for New Zealand." 
 
 " The Secrecy of Diplomatic Negotiations is 
 no longer Desirable." 
 
 " Labour Movement, and ' The Man Out- 
 side.' " 
 
 " The Foreign Policy of England." 
 
 " The History and Influence of Vaccination." 
 " Arbitration in Labour Disputes." 
 " The Transvaal Crisis and Future of the 
 British Empire." 
 
 " Municipal Trading." 
 
 " The Price of Imperialism." 
 
 " Co-operation and Collectivism." 
 
 " The Condition of India." 
 
 " Secondary Education." 
 
 " The Budget as it Ought to be." 
 
 " Indian Famines.'' 
 
 " International Arbitration." 
 
 " Labour Representatives in the ' House.' " 
 
 " Citizenship in East Loudon." 
 " Shall we AboKsh the London School 
 Board ? " 
 
 " Must Britain take a Back Seat ? " 
 " Arbitration and Conciliation." 
 " That the Working Classes are Useless, 
 Dangerous, and Ought to be Abolished." 
 " The Macedonian Question." 
 " Trade Union Legislation." 
 
 " The Rights of Children." 
 " The Unemployed." 
 
 St. Jude's also enjoyed similar privileges, for before 
 Toynbee Hall existed, and when the httle schools were 
 our only meeting-place, old lists show that in 1880 we 
 were lectured by : 
 
 Alfred MUner. 
 Rev. C. W. Stubbs 
 Arnold Toynbee 
 Rev. E. C. Hawkins 
 Professor Bryoe , 
 
 " The State and the Duties of Rulers.' 
 " The Education of Life." 
 " The State and Religion." 
 " Women and War." 
 " True Democracy." 
 
372 "MUSTER'S MERRY SPEECH" 
 
 In whatever branch the students worked they were able 
 to meet in the Students' Union, a large and living organisa- 
 tion which iacluded them all. It was founded the year 
 before Toynbee Hall was buUt, and has had so many children 
 that its inception and birthday deserve to be chronicled. . . 
 I give aU my husband's letter in which he tells me of it, 
 because it shows the sides of his nature not usually con- 
 nected with education, but without which the education 
 he advocated would have been a meaner, weaker product. 
 
 To H. 0. B., January IQth, 1883.— The day is over. I feel 
 wonderfully well, vigorous, and more satisfied with myself than 
 I have felt for a long time. 
 
 Last night we had a very jolly party. About sixty University 
 Extension students came. I addressed them. Text being 
 " Alice Hart " and expansion being " Thoroughness." The text 
 was insjiiring, and on the whole I believe I did well. There must 
 be more of such meetings ; if thus we can weld the students 
 together, the classes may go better. 
 
 This morning I preached and new Hfe went into old words as 
 I showed people what religion had to do with life. In the after- 
 noon Gell came. His speech was too sermony. He is a Joke. 
 He missed j^our presence by the appearance of the drawing-room. 
 "Make it like her," said I. Then he began kicking the chairs 
 over and putting things out of shape. Quite sure he could do it. 
 I roared at him and said I would tell his " Gossip " his idea of her 
 taste. He will come and dine with you on Saturday if you ^nW 
 
 ask him. Mr. and J.Irs. S came to tea. He is a fair and 
 
 thin-looking man, a remnant of a Stubbs. His wife loves him, 
 so there must be something in him. He preached a simple 
 sermon on abhorring evil. There was a very good congregation, 
 quite 200 people I should say. 
 
 A month later, I being stUl away Ul, my husband wrote : 
 
 To H. 0. B., February 25th, 1883.— Milner brought his cousni 
 to the party, so would not come to dinner. The party was a 
 capital one ; about eighty real students came and we formed a 
 Students' Union. Milner made one of the merriest of speeches. 
 The people enjoyed him. 
 
 Nme jrears after this " merry speech," Mr. Barnett, 
 writing of the Students' Union, which then took in about 
 sixty per cent, of those attending the courses, societies, and 
 classes, said ; 
 
THE STUDENTS' UNION 373 
 
 1892. — The students of the University Extension Classes early 
 discovered the power of Tiiiion. Long ago when they met m St. 
 Judo's^ School they realised^ the need; of the enthusiasm which 
 grows among those who tallc together of their aims, of the widen- 
 ing interest which follows the contact of diherent muids, of the 
 bond wliich holds together those who learn to know one another. 
 A Union whose members should meet frequently at conver- 
 saziones, and dui'ing the summer join in excm'sions, was therefore 
 formed, with a nominal fee. it can show a good record of work. 
 Parties in TojTibee ilall, annual excursions to either Oxford or 
 Cambridge, visits to parks and gardens of country friends, and 
 many rambles. There are few Saturdays when the students of 
 the Union do not meet to encourage one another. . . By these 
 and other means the way of the student is made easier, and a 
 body of opinion is being created, which ought in tune to compel 
 the careless to study. 
 
 To help the Students' Union to obtain these pleasures, 
 Mr. Bamett used aU our friends, and Mr. Boyle, who acted 
 as his secretary for eight of the years under review, re- 
 members hundreds of letters that were written on the 
 subject. Cordial replies came to the requests, and the 
 Students' Union, under the efScient management of Mr. 
 Monk and Miss WHd, took abundant advantages of their 
 opportunities. The leading artists invited its members to 
 their studios, and at beautiful houses both in town and in 
 the country they were welcomed " by request." Ever- 
 hospitable Oxford gave them generous entertainment, and 
 people of world-wide repute, such as Mrs. Humphry Ward, 
 Mr. Anthony Hope, Mr. Frederic Harrison, Mr. Leslie 
 Stephen, Sir Sidney Lee, Sir Henry Roscoe, Mr. Oscar 
 Brownuig, Mr. William Morris, Sir A. Gonan Doyle, shared 
 with them their literary or artistic harvests. Each year 
 also the Students' Union went touring, sometimes for four 
 or five days' jaunts at Easter or Whitsun in England, some- 
 times on the Continent. 
 
 To Mr. Barnett aU this was wholly good, but I was not so 
 happy at so much hospitality being lavished on men and 
 women just because they had jomed a class and paid Is. a 
 year towards its social side. It was different when the 
 members were teachers who by enriched minds imcon- 
 sciously enriched those of their pupils; but to expend so 
 much work and to use up so much influence to provide 
 social eveniags and Saturday outings for clerks, shop 
 assistants, factory foremen, and sons and daughters of 
 
"74 THE GUILD OP COMPASSION 
 
 tradesmen seemed to me but a new form of pauperising, 
 especially for a class never backward in obtaining pleasure. 
 
 " If they would each do more public service it v/ould be 
 aU right," I would argue to my husband, " but the majority 
 accept aU and give nothing." 
 
 " They wiU learn the joy of giving when they know more," 
 he would reply. " At least m a small way luxuries are 
 being nationalised." 
 
 Perhaps he was right. He usually was, but I felt that, in 
 any case, the opportunity of service for others should be 
 offered to those who themselves were being served so 
 generously. 
 
 One afternoon in 1898 Mrs. Winkworth was entertaining 
 the Union ; the apple blossom was out, and the gardens and 
 tennis lawns were aglow with May sunshme, abetting by 
 their lavish beauty our hostess, whose hospitality mcluded 
 the sharing of her home treasures as well as much dainty 
 food. As I sat in the verandah I told a few of my women 
 friends what I thought. 
 
 " Can you wait here," said Miss Wild and Miss Hicklmg, 
 " whUe we all go and fetch some of the others, and then 
 will you say again to them what you have just said to us ? " 
 
 Each messenger brought back a few friends until a little 
 crowd had gathered, and to them all I told of the workhouse 
 wards where the aged sat day after day joyless, without 
 duties or interests, waiting for death ; of the rough girls 
 whose whole lives could be transfigured by the gift of some 
 months' training ; of ailing little children who could be 
 received into the country and made stronger if they could 
 be cleaned and planned for ; of the need for service in 
 countless ways that were not dramatic nor even interesting. 
 Then I said, too, though it required some tact — ^for while 
 one pleaded for those who suffered, one had to avoid causing 
 the suffering of offence — that the Students' Union was ever 
 receivmg hospitality without even proposmg to offer the 
 sacrifice of time, strength, or money involved in making a 
 return. How could any of those present give Mrs. Wink- 
 worth pleasure ? It was not possible, but it was possible 
 to accept her gifts and pass them on. 
 
 This talk founded the"Toynbee Guild of Compassion." Its 
 name was perhaps more fanciful than I should have selected, 
 but from the first hour that the ladies met in the Warden's 
 Lodge drawing-room, they governed the society, and from 
 it many sad lives have been gladdened and ennobled. 
 
UNPRETENTIOUS LOVING LABOURS 575 
 
 The necessary funds were obtained by a large working 
 party of the students which met every Tuesday evening, 
 be the weather cold or hot, wet or dry, and the work under- 
 taken by the Guild rapidly grew, until it mcluded : 
 
 {a) A Training Home for Girls. 
 
 (b) Clothing and preparing the inmates of a home for sick children 
 
 supported by a friend, 
 (o) Flower Shows in the Toynbee Quad. 
 
 (d) Small parties of old workhouse women taken to spend afternoons in 
 
 friends' houses. 
 
 (e) " At Homes " to old men and women long ago cast as useless on the 
 
 rubbish-heap of humanity. 
 (/) Concerts and entertainments given in the wards of asylums or 
 
 infirmaries. 
 (g) Small groups of children taken for rambles. 
 (h) Monthly meetings of the convalescents and girls who had been in 
 
 Erskine House. 
 
 All unpretentious labours, not undertaken to reorganise 
 society, but to uplift or comfort a few who had " fallen by 
 the way," and all salted by the sacrifice of time and force, 
 given by those whose self-support demanded most of both. 
 To the Guild my husband rendered the sustaining sympathy 
 he offered to each of my duties, taking the chair when I was 
 Ul, and always putting in an appearance and buying what 
 no one else wanted at the sales the sewing party held. 
 
 Mr. Barnett believed that every society should aim at so 
 bettering conditions that it should extinguish itself, and he 
 gave twenty years as the legitimate limit of a charitable 
 society's life. The Guild of Compassion has nearly reached 
 that limit, and it still lives its kind life. 
 
 Are social conditions worse, or do I feel them more be- 
 cause, after thirty-three years in Whitechapel, I now live 
 alone amid the beauty of the Hampstead Garden Suburb ? 
 I cannot teU, but never did I so realise the cruel kindness of 
 the poor-law system than when I helped twenty-two old 
 ladies out of the brake which had brought them from the 
 Whitechapel workhouse to my door. Ugly and uniform 
 clothing ; sterile and forbidding faces ; gauche and sus- 
 picious manners ; silent and antagonistic attitude to each 
 other — but who can wonder if love flags among those who 
 are herded together without individual interests ? My 
 neighbours had as usual been kind, and came each to take 
 two guests, so that at least for one afternoon they should 
 be addressed by their names and asked it they liked sugar: 
 
376 THE NATION'S UNPAID TEACHERS 
 
 in their tea. And in the evening they came back, arm in 
 arm with their hostesses, whose gardens had paid toll, their 
 faces softened, enlivened, their ways gentler, their hearts 
 fuU of gratitude. Good God ! what a difference — and these 
 are our nation's old folk who have been taught life's lessons 
 by toU and sacrifice. These arc the unpaid teachers of 
 consideration, pity, self-control, wanted by grand-children 
 in numberless houses, and we shove them all together out 
 of sight, and mto barrack wards. 
 
 Why? 
 
 Why ? Oh ! because rent is so dear. 
 
LETTERS, 1886 TO 1895 
 
 These letters have been selected from an enormous 
 correspondence. In some cases I have united passages 
 from more than one letter, in others only portions are 
 printed, but the date sequence has been carefully preserved. 
 They have all been chosen to illustrate my husband's work 
 or to show some trait in his character. 
 
 St. Jtjde's Vicaeage, Whitechapel, 1886. 
 My deab Feai^k, 
 
 We have seen a good deal of Seeley. He is good company but 
 a bit vaia. He sums up Gladstone's character as essentially 
 Catholic, and so considering truth to be " what is everjrwhere 
 believed," viz. the old Catholic doctrine. When I said " the 
 worship of the jumping cat," his answer was, " Yes, Gat hohc." 
 Joking apart, he does suggest a key to the strength and weak- 
 ness of G.O.M. . . 
 
 AU minds are occupied by Home Rule. I keep firm to the 
 principle, but I distrust Gladstone ; he is such a manager some- 
 how. I should hke a Resolution carried and his Bill sent back. 
 Days are coming when the beUevers in a future must act and 
 speak. There are many signs of the decline of Rome in our 
 midst, and those who see that there is a future better than any 
 past, must grapple with it and make it understood. The sad 
 thing of all crises is the way in which good people use their 
 strength in trying to restore the old. . . I can't help thinking that 
 there is a better time within reach, that now, as at the Renaissance, 
 England might ride on the new things to greatness, but then one 
 is so bothered by the moral cowardice. We have the weakness 
 of wealth and the rich must always find it hard to do any good. . . 
 
 On Tuesday I met Goschen and talked about University 
 Extension. He is able and halting. The habit of halting makes 
 him sure when he has time. In the Kingdom where weeks are 
 months he will be first. . . 
 
 On Thursday Ritchie of L.G.B. sent for me apropos of my 
 Nincteariih Ccvlury article, " Rehef Funds and the Poor." We 
 had a good talk, but officiahsm may be so tight that outside 
 pressure may make for a return of out-relief. 
 1—26 377 
 
378 LETTERS. 1886 
 
 A mysterious parcel came yesterday from a man on Canon's 
 Marsh, Bristol. My wife says it is a clip for the reins and holds it 
 to be a mark of your sweet thoughtfulness. We cannot, though, 
 fit it on, so you must come up for the purpose of showing us ! 
 We had a lovely drive yesterday round Stanmore and Harrow, 
 keeping out for six hours. The day was a poem, and we took 
 in stores of rest as we jogged alone far from cares and friends. 
 
 Love for ever, S. A. ii. 
 
 St. Jude's Vicarage, Whiteci-iapbl, 18S7. 
 My deae Frank, 
 
 We have been spending our Sabbath with Lord Dunsany. He 
 is near eighty and a dear^ — intelligent, active, and liberal. He 
 despairs of Ireland but is not bitter. As out of his experience 
 he tells of efforts — plans which have failed, one joins in his 
 hopelessness, but is assured that the only experiment left for trial 
 is that of Home Rule. . . 
 
 [J,: On Monday we went to Watts ; he finished my portrait and 
 gave it to my wife. She is very pleased and the face is certainly 
 like something in me. He was very happy ia her pleasure, and 
 she was very happy in her possession. 
 
 On Tuesday we dLned with the Courtneys, and greatly enjoyed 
 our talk. He is a strong man and they make a beautiful home 
 together. 
 
 On Wednesday we went in the morning to the Kew Gallery. 
 The pictures are distressing : there is hardly one with any poetry ; 
 most of them are afiected and the voice of all is " Vanity of 
 vanities." It is terrible to think of the passion which speaks 
 out of the walls of Florence, and then to see pretence, the mockery 
 of passion on our walls. The warriors are stage warriors and 
 the lovers have got up their looks from pictures. In the after- 
 noon we went to a garden party and heard Corney Grain. Have 
 you heard him ? He is very clever hitting off the little weak- 
 nesses of little people. It is strange to watch folk laughing at 
 themselves; people seem so vain that they would rather be 
 laughed at than not noticed. Rich people differ here from the 
 poor, who hate notice. Vanity is a strange outcome of civilisa- 
 tion—a result, I take it, of a free press and empty minds. . . 
 
 Last night we went to the House. Y sat next to Mrs. 
 
 Gladstone, a commonplace old lady, and confided to her that 
 she did not like Harcourt's speech. " Then you are the other 
 side ? " she said. " No," replied my wife ; " but I can't think 
 my side perfect always." " Ah, then you must come and hear 
 him [Mr. Gladstone] on Monday," she said. 
 
 Harcourt's speech was detestable, the speech of a spendthrift 
 politician using up to-day what will be wanted to-morrow to 
 
LETTERS, 1887 379 
 
 keep society together. We saw the row and I don't think the 
 Speaker will last long ; he clearly was inconsistent, and should 
 have shut up Sanderson. The latter is Irish, a man to speak 
 more vigorously than he acts, a man loving effect, a man who 
 would any day sacrifice truth for a joke. 
 
 We came away sad that the pulse of the machine should be so 
 frivolous, and ashamed of what other nations must think. There 
 is no argument against coercion except Home Rule. Gladstone 
 was in the House, a nervous irritable man, conscious of every 
 reflection on himself. I can't think how he has hved so long, 
 wearing himself down as he does. . . 
 
 My lady's book looks very well, and is the ground- work of many 
 of to-day's articles. She is all right and has endured well a very 
 heavy week. 
 
 With dearest love, S. A. B. 
 
 St. Jude's Vioabage, Whitechapel, July 2nd, 1887. 
 My dear Fbank, 
 
 The weekly letter becomes the birthday letter. Instead of 
 telling you about the past I have to throw myself into the 
 future, see you growing to the dignity fit for the Abbey House, 
 increasing in prosperity and goodness, sheltered and supported 
 by the love of many. Dear old boy, may all good be yours, good 
 withia and good without. 
 
 My wife, as usual remembering everything, thought of you and 
 will send you some art- worked brass plates for decoration of the 
 Hall for your birthday. One thing will, I fear, be missing to- 
 morrow, and that is the raspberry and currant tart along the 
 series of which my memory leaps, and I am borne to Samber 
 House, sea-side lodgings, and even Portland Square. 
 
 We picture you in your new house — excited — a bit worried, 
 but full of hope. The house must look its best with this sun, 
 and to-morrow you will begin to feel you are married to the 
 Cathedral. Did you ever read Victor Hugo's Notre Dame ? 
 There a chOd got, weirdly, strangely, to belong to the great silent 
 home of the living and the dead. 
 
 Dear people, our thoughts will be with you all next Simday, 
 and oh ! how we hope that your home may be blessed and how 
 the sacrifice may bear fruit to many ! Can't you think of a 
 motto for your hall, which shall be nothing to the blind but which 
 to those who can see shall declare that man's work, like God's 
 work, is to be shared, and that all honest comers will come to 
 you ? What a lot still lies before you, and how much to be done 
 to make yoiw gift of residence in the city among the people 
 perfect I 
 
 With dearest love, S. A. B. 
 
380 LETTERS, 1887 
 
 Red, Norway, Jrdy Z\st, 1887. 
 My deab Feai^k, 
 
 " When it is fine we see the waterfalls, and when it is wet we 
 see the waters fall." In fact, wet and fine alters only the posi- 
 tion of an " s." Thus Ward describes Norway and there is 
 more in the description than is at first apparent. Water is the 
 making of everything ; the pleasure of the tourist and the living 
 of the people depend on the water, and both soon get careless of 
 wet. You would have been astonished to see us both at 5 a.m. 
 on the deck of a steamer wrapped in waterproofs enjoying the 
 rain ; and you would be glad to see us both blooming in health, 
 trudging our twelve or eighteen miles, and eating and drinking 
 whatever we can find — eggs, fish, beer. 
 
 You would hke the people, the honest and just-awake look 
 of the men, with their reserve of strength, the simple, broad- 
 browed girls armoured in purity. You would hke their gentle- 
 ness to animals — we have not seen a driver strike a horse — and 
 the method of driving seems to be to let the horse follow his own 
 taste, drink when he hkes, stop when he hkes, and run when he 
 likes. As he hkes to run down hill and as the hUls are very 
 steep, we descend with a flash. You would enjoy the rapid 
 movement from place to place, the welcome at the hotels, and 
 always the most lovely and inspiring surroundings. Sometimes 
 a steamer bears us for a whole day in and out the windings of 
 the fiords. The rocks shut us in on every side, and sympathy 
 with the people who live wherever, from sea or rocks, a living 
 can be scraped, makes us almost melancholy. We have a sense 
 of the might of nature, of a might greater than man's, and we 
 remember how if we did not love one another we should go mad 
 for very weakness' sake. 
 
 Sometimes during one day we pass by the side of torrents 
 which rush and roar tUl they lose themselves in a waterfall, 
 climb ravines where every rock is radiant with green, reach 
 heights when we see hill rolling on hill, or stand by plains or lakes 
 beyond which rest the snow mountains or glaciers. It is the last 
 view which I hke best. I like the sense that earth and heaven 
 meet, that the rough at our feet belongs to the peaceful distance, 
 that man by going may reach the skies. My wife, I think, likes 
 best the torrents, as they roll and rage in. volumes greater than 
 the Avon. She likes their life, their will to achieve, their pro- 
 gress, till in a glorious death at some fall they fill the world mth 
 a sense of power and beauty. . . 
 
 The journey so far has been a success, the necessary effort 
 refreshes our wills and reminds us that we are not old. M^e 
 camiot be old to enjoy riding in a coster's barrow without springs, 
 and with no harness but a bit of rope. We cannot be old to 
 giggle with our fellow-travellers over the difficulties to be under- 
 stood by the people. . , 
 
LETTERS, 1887 381 
 
 Our experience of our party is very satisfactory. We two 
 have been alone and yet not alone. In the traps called 
 stolkjars, we drive for hours, and then when we meet our 
 fellow-travellers we are sure of a talk, sure of thoughtful care, 
 sure that some sign of unselfishness will be pleasant. Ward is 
 the practical man who plans journeys, fixes times, and delights in 
 the thing done. Shields is the mystic who sees coincidences, 
 believes in ideas. " How many pounds avoirdupois can an angel's 
 wings lift?" asks Ward. " A feather weight," answers Shield. 
 " America," says M'ard, " is the last product of civilisation." 
 " Its highest product," retorts Shields, " is the railway-station." 
 Bartholomew is the paymaster, and he is glad when he takes as 
 a receipt the handshake of landlord or waitress. . . 
 
 To-day we are spending quietly on a lake which much reminds 
 us of Lucerne, only here there are no visitors, no arrangement for 
 tourists, and no heat. I am writing by an open window and 
 the air blows from a glacier across the still shadowed waters. 
 My wife is very well. I need not tell you that she is the life of 
 the party, opening our eyes to see the beauty and making us 
 think of all we see. 
 
 Goodbye now, our thoughts and talk often go to you and 
 yours. May you have a good hohday ! 
 
 With love for ever, S. A. B. 
 
 Whitechapel, 1887. 
 To H. 0. B. 
 
 Here is a bit of good news. There was a clerical meeting at 
 Jerusalem Chamber, and from Kate and from Bolton I heard the 
 same account. The meeting was more clever than earnest, the 
 
 speeches below tone and frivolous. Then M spoke to a higher 
 
 key, with more feeling for the people and with more practical 
 sense of their needs. He described the " man hardened by East 
 End life, softened to tears and lifted to hope by the music of 
 the Worship Hour." . . So let ns hope on for him. 
 
 I have been to the Communicants' Meeting. The communicants 
 mustered fairly well and were sweet. I tried to show them how 
 goodness walks among us, like a light surprising us ; how one day 
 we may be at one with it, how now we may touch it. 
 
 Yesterday at the Congregational Committee I loved my people 
 more than ever, and at the Liberal ditto I hated and shrank from 
 politicians. W'e discussed places and decided to go to Cambridge, 
 to get up a fund for church decoration, to discuss Willis and over- 
 haul Stewart. They were very fair to Stewart and appreciate 
 his qualities. " He's a ruff 'un like me," says Browning, " and 
 I ain't fit for a smooth post." They will try to get volunteers 
 to show people to seats. 
 
 I am very happy. Your note has made me so. Foolish 
 man that I am, I live on your life, and if I feel you are gettuig 
 well, I live. . . 
 
382 LETTERS. 1887 
 
 Social Soibnoe Conqeess, Manchestbb, September 3rd, 1887. 
 My dear Feaijk, 
 
 Here is a letter from the centre of thought. There are 4,000 
 people gathered to discuss atoms, thoughts, logics, and isms — 
 they gad about and sit in lecture-rooms and generate gases. My 
 calm judgment is that the meeting must take its place among 
 the big advertising agencies which distinguish progress. Men 
 unknown in their studies, and the studies themselves are here 
 advertised. 
 
 On the whole it is good, better that the men in the street 
 should know that atoms, " isms," and logics exist. . . 
 
 About the Exhibition it is impossible to say enough. We 
 spent the whole of yesterday among the pictures, and it did us 
 good to note how progress was written on the fifty years' work. 
 Clearly, too, the living artists seek their motive in more serious 
 subjects than did the dead ones. Of course one feels as one 
 always does that the human ideal is expressed in past rather 
 than in present forms. Artists don't look at facts to find truth. 
 Those who do look at facts, Hke Zola, look to find horror and 
 sensation. 
 
 We looked at the fmrdture exhibits thinking of you, and Y 
 
 saw one room with a frieze which gave her a thought she will 
 transfer. On Wednesday evening we went to Roscoe's lecture. 
 It was not satisfactory, as it was too learned for most of us and 
 not learned enough for the learned. On Thursday — (my wife is 
 so naughty and is bothering me so much about the extra attrac- 
 tion in a certain lady's figure caused by her 9 J stone, that serious 
 writing is impossible. She has just addressed the Association on 
 "The duty of serious living,' ' so that our common stock is used up). 
 Good-bye, with dearest love, S. A. B. 
 
 St. Jude's, Whitbchapel, March 1888. ■ 
 My dbae, Feank, 
 
 On Monday we had a quiet evening, having limched with the 
 Forbeses and made a selection of Israel's pictures for our 
 Exhibition. The Forbeses are pleasant, common-sensible people 
 and the pictures are an education. Forbes evidently has a 
 bit of tender, social sentiment, and this comes out in his love of 
 Israel, Corot, Millet, etc. You will get a sight of our pictures. . . 
 
 On Tuesday we had a long visit from Brooke Lambert. He is 
 a very fine fellow, and represents nineteenth- century Christianity. 
 He takes misfortune from God, and goes on as it the Best were 
 still Governor. We greatly enjoyed 'our talk, and there is just 
 a chance that he may join us in Florence. . . 
 
LETTERS, 1888 383 
 
 I went down to see Hart Dyke about our University Training 
 for Teachers scheme. He was most pleasant and it looks as if 
 the Universities and University Colleges might be recognised as 
 Training Colleges. Might it not be a good plan to put the scheme 
 before Bristol teachers ? . . . 
 
 Thursday, a few of my young parson friends spent " a quiet 
 day" together with Young and me at Kingston. We talked 
 over our work and tried to reaUse where as Liberals we fail. 
 We do fail, we do not get into our teaching something which ia 
 good in that teaching which we know to be wrong. We need, I 
 thinls, much more of meditation and more practices of self- 
 control. . . :•■ 
 
 I read Gladstone on Robert Elsmere in the train. He gets 
 the better of the argument and with a power of words tramples 
 on the inadequacy of Mrs. Ward's position. He makes so much 
 of connection with the Church and values it not only because of 
 its strength, but because it is the basis of authority. A queer 
 mind, Gladstone's, which can adopt a principle in religion from 
 which it shrinks in politics. If I were a Conservative I would 
 write an article on him, using against him his argument against 
 Mrs. Ward. . . 
 
 Friday was our blessed " Sabbath," and we talked out Y 's 
 
 new book on Physiology. She will set to work on it after we 
 return from Italy. 
 
 Love for ever, S. A. B. 
 
 Naples, A-pril 23rd, 1888. 
 My deae Feaiik, 
 
 After you left us at Pisa we took a drive to a Carthusian 
 monastery. The great place with its eleven dirty, ignorant 
 inmates, its frescoes of bad art, its cool courts with oranges 
 and flowers, its magnificent situation, set us thinking. Clearly 
 its disestablishment was justified, but clearly also there is a use 
 in any system for btuldings adapted for rest, for self-culture, and 
 for common life. Perhaps some day the need for convalescent 
 homes for the mind will be recognised. 
 
 From Pisa we travelled to Rome, passing from the highly 
 cultivated plots of Tuscany to the desert stretches of the Papal 
 States. Was the cause large holdings ? We don't know, but 
 I think if these deserts were given to the peasants who now 
 emigrate they would find America at home. Rome we felt to be 
 a confusion or to have a unity too great for our comprehension. . . 
 
 Such study as I gave to Alichelangelo and Raphael sent the 
 latter up very high. In Michelangelo] there is so little hope. 
 
384 LETTEES, 1888 
 
 His prophets see nothing but woe, woe ; with all the glory of 
 form, with the beauty of life, his people wake to sorrow. All is 
 fine and his study opens our eyes to see the sorrow which goes 
 to the buildiag of truth, but give me Raphael. His Christ of the 
 Transfiguration is a man who knows sorrow and triumph, whose 
 glory is of giving. His " Eisputa " shows us men worshipping 
 with the devotion of Fra Angelico's men, but men with characters 
 formed by thought and inquiry. In fact, as I looked I asked 
 myself what more was wanted. If art be one voice through 
 which is answered the question " What is the mystery of life ? " 
 then what more is wanted than the voice which says " Think," 
 " Study," " Be yourself," and " Worship." Then it came to 
 me that there was httle in Raphael of what this age has learnt 
 about " doing," " service," etc., etc. The painter of the future, 
 the man who wUl put into form a later answer to the question, 
 must be one who will tell of love in action as well as in con- 
 templation. The greatest is yet to be and no art is in the truest 
 sense " Christian," that is, expressive of the truth that " He who 
 would save his life must give it." . . . 
 
 From Rome we came here and have put up at a villa in the 
 midst of a vineyard which slopes to the sea, and whence we have 
 a view which tempts to idleness and one expects to hear singing, 
 to see dancing, and find life a play. Naples is a town which 
 gutters but does not glow. The colours which flit from the 
 balconies, the bright figures in the streets, the small silver- 
 decorated horses, the sharp sounds — all make, as I said, a 
 glitter. We have been to the Museum to see our old love, the 
 Listening Pan, which as my wife says should be kexJt as a com- 
 panion to the Mercury of the Bargello to represent obedience as 
 that represents action. 
 
 By the by, don't take what I have written about art as from 
 her. She knows so much more that I only pick up her crumbs, 
 and it won't do to have her credited with my errors. She has 
 been very well and is, of course, our life, bringing out in every one 
 his best and making even the blind see. I wish we could find 
 out how to keep her well in Whitechapel ; here she does so much 
 and is so much. One day we started at 8.30 and were at it tOl 
 7.30, and she was then up for a moonlight walk. This was on 
 Vesuvius day, which has been the event of our journey since 
 Florence. 
 
 We drove up the slopes through groves where spring was 
 revelling in his power, over lava streams, dark, contorted like 
 the snakes which seized Laocoon, up to the railway which is 
 2,000 feet above the sea. Here we turned our backs on the 
 wonders of nature, to admire how, by an almost perpendicular 
 road, man had made a way for cars to pass. We got in and in 
 ten minutes were hauled up 1 ,300 feet. Then we were on the 
 outside of the crater. We looked down on islands, sea, and land. 
 We felt the smallness of ourselves — of man — in the presence of 
 
LETTERS, 1888 385 
 
 the world. We forgot our fears and hopes, worshipping some- 
 thing greater — the world — in which we are but ants. 
 
 Then we turned and behold a greater than the world. The 
 earth itself was shaking, its sides were torn by a force which 
 was rending its rocks ; with a restrained roar some mightier 
 power was sending out breath after breath which rolled in 
 volumes to the heavens in an eternal stream. For a moment we 
 felt ourselves in front of Force, Power. And now the world — 
 everything — seemed small and we understood why the first name 
 given to God was " the Strong One." 
 
 I wish I could give you some idea of the inside of the crater, 
 its vast gloomy circurnference, its ridges of contorted lava, its 
 veins of yellow and red, its volume upon volume of steam with 
 every now and then a roar followed by the belcliing forth of 
 rocks and stones. The idea which it left in my mind was of 
 " Force," and somehow of the unity of Force with Beauty. 
 Terrible as it was, it was also beautiful, beautiful enough for a 
 Turner's picture. Some day, though, you will come yourself or 
 some day a worthy person will tell what he has seen. We will 
 bring you ourselves. Yes — and I expect a good portion of the 
 mountain if we succeed in bringing home the specimens my wife 
 has made us collect ! Rocks of all forms and colours did she 
 and we gather. Once Marion was seen choking over a chasm 
 while Bartholomew was dragging at a piece of yellow stone, 
 pulling it, as he said, from the jaws of hell, so sulphurous and hot 
 was it. 
 
 You will see from all that we are very well, and to-day we are 
 just basking while ever3rthing around us sleeps. 
 
 Xow with love to you all. 
 
 Ever yours, S. A. B. 
 
 St. Judb's Vioaeaqb, Whitechapel, 2Iay 12th., 1888. 
 My deah Fraitk, 
 
 Once more we are at home. Lucerne was very beautiful, 
 more beautiful than any place we know. Thence we travelled to 
 Strasburg to meet Nunn, who wished to see us on his way to 
 Switzerland. It was pleasant to meet him in his holiday 
 costume. He has a very beautiful character, a simple heart 
 with a strong mind. He plans to adopt the son of a peasant 
 and to bring him up as his own brother. This hardly seems 
 wise, or really good for the boy, but Nunn has a generous notion 
 at bottom and generosity is never a wasted expenditure. 
 
 With Strasburg after Italy we were disappointed. The 
 Cathedral missed a something, I know not what. Those in 
 Italy spoke of some sort of common life. That of Strasburg 
 
386 LETTERS, 1888 
 
 was solitary — unsocial — individual. I wonder i£ the keynote of 
 Gothic is individuahsm. The most striking thing in the town 
 was the soldiers, who looked grand and were everywhere. From 
 Strasburg we journeyed to Brussels . here we enjoyed 3.1ass ia the 
 Cathedral on Ascension Day, a Mass much more beautifully sung 
 than that in Milan, and during which the vast congregation was 
 most reverent. I tried to feel how such a service might be 
 translated into the realms of thought. 
 
 From Brussels we came home, having again a quiet passage. 
 Here we found everything well, the table was loaded with flowers 
 to give us welcome, friends were everywhere. The Bartholomews 
 had. even come to the station. We have as yet only shaken 
 hands and looked pleased, though the wife had to go to Miss 
 Edwards's lecture on the women of Egypt. In the eveniag we 
 dined in. Toynbee and then went to bed. 
 
 With love to all, S. A. B. 
 
 KiLKEE, Ireland, September Ifh, 1888. 
 My dbae Fbank, 
 
 After a week with the Monteagles we have come on here for a 
 few days to see the Atlantic. Our stay at JMount Trenchard was 
 very interesting. The place stretches along the bank of the 
 Shannon, and is surrounded with extensive woods, through which 
 paths wind over " lynns," and the estate includes three villages. 
 Monteagle has been a model landlord, and so the houses are 
 good. He has developed resources and employs twenty men at 
 a saw- mill . 
 
 We went about seeing land, landlords, and people. The land 
 is terribly neglected, and there is hardly a field which is not full 
 of "wire" grass, weeds, and thistles. The cottages, even when 
 well built, have no gardens nicely kept with flowers and no sign 
 of care in furniture. To-day in one specially well-built I^saw 
 the pig and the fowls admitted to a place at the fireside. 
 
 If there be plenty there is untidiness, and if there be want the 
 untidiness becomes squalor. With all this the people are finely 
 grown, clean-skinned, and very intelhgent. The girls it is a 
 pleasure to look at. The men seem "noble savages" — noble 
 by look, by manners, by the respect they show for women, by 
 their loyalty to one another, by their intelligence — savages by 
 their powers for hating, by their love of passionate revenge, by 
 their dislike of hard work, by their fondness for drama, by their 
 simulated servility. Their landlords are like themselves — idle, 
 proud, and incapable of sustained effort. 
 
 With all the cncumstances, if I were responsible here, I would 
 shun politics ; I would devote myself to local work, to developing 
 better farming and local government.^ In time the people will 
 be sick of agitation, and|then*[theyj.will turn with all theic old 
 
LETTERS, 1888 387 
 
 loyalty — this time founded on reason — to follow the men who 
 have done right. It is worse than useless, it is almost wicked 
 to fight for " Union." The ideal, if it be beautiful, is not possible ; 
 representation has been accepted as a system of Government and 
 by representation Ireland has declared its will. It must have 
 its will, or be governed as a Crown colony, and this is impossible. 
 
 Love to all, S. A. B. 
 
 St. Jtjde's Vioaragb, WmTBCHAPEL, October 1888, 
 To H. 0. B. 
 
 When I got home the house smiled a welcome, shadows of my 
 wife's smiles. The house never would have smiled so without 
 her love and thought. The study was warm, light and full of 
 red ! . . I sat there after dinner and finished Idolatry. It is a 
 strong book and the man may be eager for God, though he does 
 play suspiciously near what is beastly. It is a grand picture 
 of broken idols, and the fair idol which attracts so many is well 
 broken at the end. Balder found that not even his own 
 righteousness could be a God. That's well done, so all the way 
 through is the minghng of fact and fancy, mental and physical 
 phenomena. . . 
 
 A very httle, as you say, makes me happy. I have too large 
 a store of hope to give up for long. . . Knowles, of The Nineteenth 
 Caniury, to whom I sent Practicable Socialism with a stamped 
 envelope for its return, to-day sends me the proof. My breath 
 is a bit taken away as some of the statements are strong and 
 roughly stated. I must see to their correctness. We will go 
 over the proof together. . . 
 
 A was with me yesterday — I put my foot down on his 
 
 business arrangements and showed myself to be your disciple in 
 the matter of accounts. He has to get out another system. I 
 do dislike his manner and I am never more severe to anyone. I 
 shall tell him some day I expect return in my own coin for my 
 investment of time and brain. . . 
 
 It is just nine and I shall get off this letter so that you may 
 have a message to-night at Liverpool. What a lot there is to tell 
 when lives are shared as are ours. Uneventful I should describe 
 yesterday and Sunday to be, were I writing to others ; to you 
 this quire of paper would not tell you all. . . 
 
 Nmse and fanny dined with me off pheasant, Nurse feeling 
 haK uncomfortable lest she were eating what I liked. Women 
 spoil men. 
 
 S. A. B. 
 
388 LETTERS, 1889 
 
 Ti'.e ioll'^wing two extracts are from two letters, on 
 February 9Mi and February 16th, 1889 : 
 
 To F. G. B. 
 
 On Tuesday we went vip early to the Parnell Commission. 
 The Secretary received us and took us to good places in the 
 body of the ooiu?t near the Judges. Soon the court filled and 
 we were struck by the dignity of the dark, ill- shaped, and in- 
 convenient room. Davitt was there with a face like Mazziui's, 
 sad, earnest, and more emotional than reasoning — a good man. 
 Webster, Russell, James, Reed, Lockwood, Atkinson, faced us. 
 Webster — a ponderous man — most irritable and ready to snub 
 any interference, especially Graham's. His questions showed 
 cultm-e, experience, force, but not agility. He could not fight 
 a losing fight. Russell is sleek, quick, and just the man to 
 seize an advantage. James is cruel. Lockwood full of 
 humour. The witness was Le Carron, and we were intensely 
 interested as for hour after hour he, without a failure in date or 
 name, gave his evidence. If a patriotic spy is justified, he is one, 
 but somehow one can't respect the man who saves lives by 
 sacrificing truth and honour. 
 
 To F. G. B. 
 
 My wife has j ust had an attack of palpitation from consternation 
 over Piggott so I have had to break off my letter and discuss the 
 Parnell Commission. . . I never conceived The Times could have 
 had such a foundation and the effect will be bad. Of course 
 there will be a general rout, as the Unionists have built so much 
 on the unfitness of Ireland's chosen. But this is not the evil 
 result I mean. Now there will be a sort of justification for 
 assumiug that an opponent must be wicked, a wider disbelief in 
 any conscientious action. Sometimes I think om: only hope is in 
 a movement which will compel people to see that only truth and 
 good matter. There is no leading man, politician or parson, 
 who so teaches. They all have some platform. 
 
 St. Judb's Cottage, Hampstead, 1890, 
 My deae Frank, 
 
 We have been staying at Grace Dieu Manor with the Charles 
 Booths, and enjoyed our stay to the end. He is a noble fellow — 
 one of the natures which seem to be grown fine and to need 
 nothing from circumstance. At any rate by himself, by faithful 
 obedience to his own right, he is higher than most men. If his 
 
LETTERS, 1890 389 
 
 own right could be transfigured, by say, Christ's right, how 
 high he would be ! He reminds one of the Stoics — Seneca and 
 Aurelius — a Christian before Christ. J le works hard and lives 
 low. When he is in East London he dwells in a workman's 
 home, so as to be in full touch with their life. . . 
 
 We went to there from Oxford when I had preached on Sunday, 
 staying with the J.Iarkbys. The}' are nice folk and you will hear 
 tales of their life, her drawings, and their experience in India. 
 They live at Headington on three acres overlooking Oxford. 
 
 Yesterday ivy vvife went to the Board wlnle I stayed at home 
 and read A Winter's Tale. We are to be taken this evening to see 
 Miss Anderson in it. The play did not fi.nd me as do some of 
 Shakespeare's ; there is a poverty about the plot and a want of 
 subtletj' in the characters. It is a play made, as it were, out of 
 the chips of the workshop. I agree though with you in wishing 
 to put other books aside and study him. 
 
 On Tuesday I went to see a church Vatoher has built in Step- 
 ney. His father left him a lot of money and he has used it to 
 build a magnificent structure with double aisles — mysterious 
 corners — vaulted roof, etc. There is something great in his 
 modesty (it is only a surmise that he has done it), which has built 
 such a grand structure. We are both struck by the absence of 
 advertising in his eiiorts, and in the goodness of what he and his 
 wife have done. . . 
 
 On Thursday I saw Mrs. Humphry Ward about her Settle- 
 ment. I don't think it will go. Why should it ? It has neither 
 the force of a sectarian movement nor the charm of a free move- 
 ment. A few people are caught by the phantom beauty of 
 Elsmere's character, but it cannot be grasped. She is a sweet 
 tender woman, full of anxieties, too great anxieties, to serve others. 
 She was meant to be religious and is fitted for the Mary service 
 rather than the Martha busjmess of this age. We have had 
 some good talks, and notably one on the possibility of religion 
 for the crassly ignorant. 
 
 We have a busy week before us. Mabel Bradby is to be 
 married this morning and to-night we dine with the Courtneys. 
 
 There is no end to do. St. Jude's is getting ripe for harvest and 
 might be a centre of rehgious life. Toynbee might be extended 
 and influence public opinion. Wadham might be developed and 
 the beginning made of a residential University ; to do this, 
 though, there must be a staff of teachers and tutors. 
 
 I have greatly enjoyed Stevenson's Essays. They are good. 
 One about Walt Whitman put exactly what I think about lum 
 and confirms a shy suspicion that he is the first longo iniervallo 
 of the poets of the twentieth century, the true developer of the 
 truth expressed in the form of the tale I love about " gun, rust, 
 bust, dust." 
 
 Now good-bye, with dearest love for ever, S. A. B, 
 
390 LETTERS, 1893 
 
 Whitbchapel, February 1893. 
 My DEAB FEAiiTK, 
 
 How lovely are these days ! Perfect spring day follows 
 perfect spring day. Lough, M.P., who dined with us, spoke of 
 the beauty of the weather in contrast with the ugliness of the 
 " House." . . . 
 
 Tuesday we went to an " At Home " at the Bryces' and saw 
 the folk who are at the tops of things — the motes in the sunshine. 
 We had no very thrilling talks and met no dear friends, but we 
 enjoyed ourselves. Electric lighting helps and there were many 
 there we knew. 
 
 On Wednesday we dined with the Courtneys. Balfour, 
 Morley, Asquith, the next Duke of Devonshire, and Hobhouse 
 were there. It was very interesting. My wife fell in love with 
 Balfour and I with Morley. We must tell you of their talk when 
 we meet. It was most free, and Mr. Gladstone came in for good- 
 tempered criticism. Morley is a better parson than politician. 
 He has the narrow sense of right, the stiff back and the some- 
 what sensitive organisation of a parson. Asquith is the better 
 politician. He has the sense of what will grow, knows with how 
 much wrong to put up, but is still wanting in ease and polish 
 which he will gain. Balfour is charming in manner, as easy as 
 a giant, but his greatest faith seems to be in doubt. Here you 
 have the basis of his conservatism, and he is saved from cynicism 
 by his sweetness of nature. How by and by he will hate the 
 young men who follow him ! He doubts because he has a sense 
 of responsibihty. They doubt because they are conceited. 
 
 I have been to see Ibsen's Master Builder. It is long since I 
 have seen such good acting. Ellen Terry never moves my heart, 
 only my head. This just moved me altogether and I nearly 
 shouted. The play itself is very stimulating. It has a message, 
 but I doubt if the message is true. Roughly translated it is 
 Pecca fortiter, but, like other parables, it has several interpreta- 
 tions. One is, Go at all risks after your ideal, climb as high as 
 you can build, live in your castles in the air. Another is, Seek 
 your own end at all costs, get everything else out of the way. 
 Another is. War against convention, which has given a wrong 
 meaning to duty, which has invented a conscience, which destroys 
 the umate goodness of human nature. 
 
 My reading has been David Grieve, which Mrs. Humphry 
 Ward sent me. The book is so honestly written and with such 
 high purpose that one does not care to condemn it for its length, 
 its want of interest, or its artistic defects. Honest writiug won't 
 make up for insight, and even the most instructed cat (able to 
 describe every ornament and gesture of her Majesty) would not 
 see the Queen. Mrs. Ward painfully tells of all that is visible 
 in character, but somehow does not see the man. Then the noble 
 purpose, that of showing godliness as the end of education, is 
 
LETTERS, 1895 391 
 
 someliow not reached. The education is not touched with 
 modern fire and remains that of all the ages. We would want 
 someone to show the frivolity — the indifference — the emotions — 
 and the passions of the century breaking in on the human soul — 
 someone to give voice to the unheard messages of the hour. 
 
 I have also been to see Lord Coleridge ;■<" Marlowe Memorial, 
 which has been started by some Toj'ubee Mall students. Lord 
 Coleridge is sleek and satisfied, better cultm-ed than sustained, 
 more insinuating than strong, a literary rather than a legal man. 
 He complained bitterly of Street as an architect. 
 
 What do you think of the Tolstoi tales ? If you like what 
 you have read, I will lend you some. We have been much 
 fascinated by their delicacy and insight. 
 
 Love always, S. A. B. 
 
 Wakdbn's Lodge, Whitechapel, August 2nd, 1895. 
 My dbah Maey,^ 
 
 The silk is in my Bible as a book-marker and as a token of 
 your thought about me when you were winding the silk. It is 
 pretty work to wind silk and gives time for thinking and for 
 singing. Ask yoiu: Mother to tell you a tale of Pippa — an Italian 
 girl who wound sUk all day long and had one holiday. She 
 used it — well, the tale will tell you how she used it. 
 
 To-day I expect you are running over the Cornish country, 
 making friends and plans. We expect to have a, good time with 
 you and are going to make ourselves young before we come. I 
 used to see a picture of a mill which turned old people into young. 
 It was in our magic lantern. Your father will remember it. 
 I have never seen a real null like the picture, but I have found 
 that there are other ways of getting young, so we shall use those 
 ways to come to you quite young. 
 
 Dorothy is quite well. She went to a party yesterday. To- 
 day we are going to Ely. It is a place which once was an island 
 but is now dry. In old days people built on it a house for quiet 
 living and they made it beautiful. This is now the Cathedral. 
 We are going to stay with the Itean, and then to-morrow twenty 
 Whitechapel people are coming to join us. We shall go into the 
 Cathedral and listen to music in the dark so that the shadows 
 will seem to speak. Perhaps music is the talk of shadows. 
 With love, your Saml. A. Baenett. 
 
 8, Royal York Cresce:^t, Clifton. 
 My deae Wife, 
 
 How I wish you could find the children when you come in 
 anxious over your invalid. Their life, their originahty, their 
 
 1 His little niece, aged nine. 
 
392 LETTERS. 1895 
 
 sweetness are all so helpful. They have not the depth of grown- 
 ups, but somehow they seem to mherit quahties grown-ups 
 learn by life and losses. Would that you could see and hear 
 them in your pretty room. They have been playing a history 
 card game when " horrid facts " have been got into their minds 
 without any relation. PhylHs's direct common sense and 
 Dorothy's gentle feeling run well in couples. Dorothy fell to-day 
 with the hoop and bruised her arm. She won't be able to cycle 
 to-morrow, but will be right in a day or two. I tell her it is 
 preparation against being a Lord Mayor. We have all enjoyed 
 our dinner, laughing and telling tales. 
 
 Good night, love always, S. A. B. 
 
 Printed by Uazell, Watson ft Yiney, Ld., London and Aylesbury^ England.