Robert Buchanan | Page 6

the inner, or perfectly sacred,
circle, which was presided over by Oldham, the grand "Pater." A diet
consisting almost entirely of uncooked cabbage is apt to grow
monotonous, and my mother did not remain at Ham Common long. A
year or two later, however, when New Harmony was established, she
went on Robert Owen's special invitation to Queenwood, near Wisbech,
Norfolk, a baronial structure surrounded by spacious woods and
promenades. The inmates of Queenwood, though they were all
believers in the principle of association, consulted their own taste in
matters of diet, but the most popular table in the Hall was the one
where a vegetarian diet alone was served. It was, as I gathered, a happy

and innocent community; but infamous reports were spread concerning
it by the antagonists of human progress; it was, in fact, described as an
immoral association. Members of the Church Orthodox were not likely
to forgive a community founded to illustrate the doctrines of the man
who denounced all religions as 'wrong,' and who on the platform and in
the newspapers had so often shown the weak points in the armour of
Christianity. 'Is it possible' asked an opponent of Socialism at
Edinburgh, in 1838, 'to train an individual to believe that two and two
make five?' 'We need not, I fancy, go far for an answer,' replied Owen,
with his gentle smile and inimitable courtliness of manner, 'I fancy all
of us know many persons who are trained to believe that three make
one, and who think very ill of you if you differ from them.'
"I have often heard my mother speak of Robert Owen as the kindliest
and most gracious of men, with an air of indomitable gentleness
peculiarly irritating to individuals whose métier it was to discuss
burning questions under burning excitement. I saw the good man often
early in my life, but my recollection of him is kaleidoscopic--one tiny
sparkle of memory mixed confusedly with things I have only heard. In
our home, wherever it might be, he was a sort of religious presence. I
heard his name long before I heard that of Jesus Christ. I was taught to
think of him as of one wholly unselfish, holy, and morally omniscient. I
heard again and again of his gracious deeds and inspiring words. One
secret of his extraordinary power was that he was pre-eminently a
'gentleman.' Under his refining influence the rough, untutored men who
flocked to his standard became gentle too. When persecution came they
took it like their master, patiently and wisely. To know Robert Owen
was in itself a liberal education.
"My first vivid recollections are of the period when my father, having
established himself on the London Press, and residing permanently in
London, sent me to a small school at Hampton Wick, kept by a
well-known Socialist missionary, Alexander Campbell, known to his
circle as the 'Patriarch.' He was a grave, simple man, with peculiar
notions on the Immanence of the Deity, or what is called Being. With
his peculiar religious ideas he combined, I fancy, eccentric views
concerning the diet of the human race. At all events, the children under

the care of himself and his daughter pined for lack of fitting nutriment.
I myself as a very little boy, must have been in danger of starvation, for
I vividly remember having to supplement the school diet, which was
chiefly vegetarian, by eating snails gathered in the garden. On going
home for the holidays I was found to be a little skeleton, and my
mother took care that I did not return to the establishment.
"I was next sent to a so-called French and German College at Merton,
kept by a certain M. de Chastelain, a French gentleman and, I think, a
refugee. It was a large school, excellently conducted, but resembling, in
some respects, Mr. Creakle's establishment, made famous by the author
of "David Copperfield." Just opposite the main entrance was a
CHURCH, almost the first I had ever seen, and certainly the first I ever
entered. Here, I presume, I became acquainted with the national
religion and its sacred terminology. I vividly recall the sense of
strangeness I experienced when I listened, little heathen that I was, to
the ordinary vocabulary of Christianity. I had received no religious
teaching: if I had heard the name of God, it had been as a voice from
far away; and I was old enough to understand that much that was taught
in churches was mostly 'superstition.' But not till some years afterwards,
when I was taken to Scotland, did I completely realise the gloom and
narrowness of the popular Christian creed.
"My parents were now residing at Norwood, in a quaint little cottage
commanding a distant prospect of St. Paul's; and thither, chiefly on
Sundays, came