Alton Locke, Tailor And Poet | Page 2

the more potent one of union and
association, which has since carried them so far.
To no one of all those to whom his memory is very dear can this seem a
superfluous task, for no writer was ever more misunderstood or better
abused at the time, and after the lapse of almost a quarter of a century
the misunderstanding would seem still to hold its ground. For through
all the many notices of him which appeared after his death in last
January, there ran the same apologetic tone as to this part of his life's
work. While generally, and as a rule cordially, recognizing his merits as
an author and a man, the writers seemed to agree in passing lightly over
this ground. When it was touched it was in a tone of apology,
sometimes tinged with sarcasm, as in the curt notice in the
"Times"--"He was understood, to be the Parson Lot of those 'Politics
for the People' which made no little noise in their time, and as Parson
Lot he declared in burning language that to his mind the fault in the
'People's Charter' was that it did not go nearly far enough." And so the
writer turns away, as do most of his brethren, leaving probably some
such impression as this on the minds of most of their readers--"Young
men of power and genius are apt to start with wild notions. He was no
exception. Parson Lot's sayings and doings may well be pardoned for
what Charles Kingsley said and did in after years; so let us drop a
decent curtain over them, and pass on."

Now, as very nearly a generation has passed since that signature used to
appear at the foot of some of the most noble and vigorous writing of
our time, readers of to-day are not unlikely to accept this view, and so
to find further confirmation and encouragement in the example of
Parson Lot for the mischievous and cowardly distrust of anything like
enthusiasm amongst young men, already sadly too prevalent in England.
If it were only as a protest against this "surtout point de zèle" spirit,
against which it was one of Charles Kingsley's chief tasks to fight with
all his strength, it is well that the facts should be set right. This done,
readers may safely be left to judge what need there is for the apologetic
tone in connection with the name, the sayings, and doings of Parson
Lot.
My first meeting with him was in the autumn of 1848, at the house of
Mr. Maurice, who had lately been appointed Reader of Lincolns Inn.
No parochial work is attached to that post, so Mr. Maurice had
undertaken the charge of a small district in the parish in which he lived,
and had set a number of young men, chiefly students of the Inns of
Court who had been attracted by his teaching, to work in it. Once a
week, on Monday evenings, they used to meet at his house for tea,
when their own work was reported upon and talked over. Suggestions
were made and plans considered; and afterwards a chapter of the Bible
was read and discussed. Friends and old pupils of Mr. Maurice's,
residing in the country, or in distant parts of London, were in the habit
of coming occasionally to these meetings, amongst whom was Charles
Kingsley. He had been recently appointed Rector of Eversley, and was
already well known as the author of The Saint's Tragedy, his first work,
which contained the germ of much that he did afterwards.
His poem, and the high regard and admiration which Mr. Maurice had
for him, made him a notable figure in that small society, and his
presence was always eagerly looked for. What impressed me most
about him when we first met was, his affectionate deference to Mr.
Maurice, and the vigour and incisiveness of everything he said and did.
He had the power of cutting out what he meant in a few clear words,
beyond any one I have ever met. The next thing that struck one was the
ease with which he could turn from playfulness, or even broad humour,

to the deepest earnest. At first I think this startled most persons, until
they came to find out the real deep nature of the man; and that his
broadest humour had its root in a faith which realized, with
extraordinary vividness, the fact that God's Spirit is actively abroad in
the world, and that Christ is in every man, and made him hold fast,
even in his saddest moments,--and sad moments were not infrequent
with him,--the assurance that, in spite of all appearances, the world was
going right, and would go right somehow, "Not your way, or my way,
but God's way." The contrast of