INTRODUCTION
The book for which its author gave her life is now given to the world with profound pity and regret. Pity for a bright young life so suddenly hurried into Eternity, and regret that the circumstances of her tragic death have made it necessary that her work should be published in an incomplete and unrevised state. Had Miss Edith Allonby lived there is no doubt that the story would have been considerably altered and improved before being put into print. Much that is now vague in meaning would have been explained, much that is now retained would have been deleted. The explicit terms of her last letters make the task of bringing outThe Fulfilmenta hard and anxious one for her executors, her relatives and her publishers. She wished the book to be published word for word as she wrote it, as can be seen from her last letter to her publisher, quoted below. Her last letter to her relatives was much to the same effect. It will show the responsibility which had to be faced.
“I have received your letter and the enclosed criticism. Thank you for both. I have read the criticism through but it has not altered me in my decision. He has said what I know will be the general opinion of the world. Most of the views I had expressed in the beginning part ofMarigold, and you will remember how those were received—as ‘uncouth attempts at satire,’ ‘silly remarks,’ ‘a farrago of nonsense,’ ‘a silly and pretentious book.’ “I have told you I do not mind criticism, neither do I. But it hurts me to the very soul that people should so misunderstand that which is true. God knows with what purity of intention I wrote the first chapters ofMarigold—never meaning to give offence, but how in this world can it be avoided?“I have read the criticism, and I could answer it word for word, or any criticism that might follow it from any source, but that is not allowed, and not to be. When I first wroteThe FulfilmentI longed to see it published, that I might fight the battle for it with my pen. It would have been like coming down into the arena to fight and breathe and conquer. But as the time went by, after it was returned to me, I began to realise slowly what a terrible book I had written, as well as beautiful and true, and it seemed as if it called for all I had to give as an expiation before it could go free. I put it away—the book and the thought. But I began to write ever on the same theme—the revelation Heaven had given me. You know how it has prospered. And then on Whitsunday the voice awoke me that I must bring my greatest treasure forward once again, for though I have let it lie patiently these four years, hoping to make an opening for it, it has ever been in my heart and brain. And again I felt the pleasing prospects of the battle. I knew what strength I had, and always have had, did I care to use it, to answer those who disagreed with what I wrote. And in the cause of such a book I felt that everything would be allowable. But there has come the Season out of Silence to be silent. We cannot bandy words about religious things. I cannot anyway. I feel it all so much I cannot talk about it. For all I write about I love and fear. God knows I have not been familiar, I have only loved simply both God and man.“But there is only one way of showing it, and that by dying simply. When I am once out of the way the big stumbling-block has been removed. People can no longer think I have written with a fanciful irreverence when I have had before me, all the time, nothing but Death; for I believe, looking back, it was there with the very first page.“And so (for when this reaches you I shall be dead—only to this world) I leave it as my dying request that you publish, exactly as I have sent it to you,The Fulfilment. You must ask the gentleman to return it, and tell him my decision. And at the same time I do not wish you or him or anyone to think that his criticism has had anything to do with my death. For I do not wish you or anyone to view me as a common suicide—overcome by this or that, or bowed down by the thought of failure or disappointment. I have simply died to make room for a great truth. And I have died trusting humbly in God.“And so you cannot deny me that which I decide. To you it must become an impersonal affair. You must publish it because it is a dying command, and publish it word for word as I have left it. And now no one can take offence—neither the company whose impress the book bears, nor anyone connected with it.“And of the religionists I only ask that they will have the same toleration for me that I have ever had for them. I mean those who are sincere and simple among them, of any denomination. For I am sincere and simple too.“And now I must say ‘Good-bye.’ I feel very sad about it, for I have written so many letters to you, and told you so many things that it is parting with a friend. And you will say a good word for me if you get the chance. And if they say I’m mad, tell them from me it’s a madness that will spread—not thesuicidebut thebelief. But indeed it is no madness.“And for your friend, tell him this from me—I wasn’t writing of ‘ParadiseLost’ but of ‘HeavenGained,’ and that if I remember my Milton correctly, they didn’taspireto tea-tables in the Garden, but simply ate it picnic fashion, so that Heaven with its tables goes one better still. And tell him that if he will only read the book through once again, I think he’ll find there is a simple, homely charm even in Jesus Christ, for it’s like everything else. You’ve got to get used to it. And when I go to Heaven I’d rather meet simple people who had power than great big kings who talked of it and sometimes found it wasn’t there. And give him my love and tell him there was no one more disgusted with those sties than I was at the time. And that the young man was so terriblyrealhe nearly broke my heart, and the College—well, perhaps thatwasa nightmare, but they’re realer than anything else. And tell him it was allme. And ask him not to be too particular over grammar, or meanings or muddles. They were invented to make men human—that is, unsuperior. I never heard of such a thing as Goethe explaining his meaning all before. That’squitean old fashion. You give people nothing to think about, and cast quite a slur upon their reputation for brains.“And you see in my capacity as teacher I wouldforcepeople to think if I could, whether they would or no.“I am afraid I am very loath to stop, it will be such a long silence—but silence speaks, you know, and I shall speak, or rather my Heavenly Father. And now I say, not from politeness, but from the bottom of my heart, I hope some day we shall meet again—not in stuffy London, or anywhere upon this earth, but, why not? at one of the tea-tables of Heaven. And I wish it very much indeed—and it all depends on you—whether you will follow in the simple way that God directs.“With kind regards, and the love that all Heaven’s children may bear with one another.”
“I have received your letter and the enclosed criticism. Thank you for both. I have read the criticism through but it has not altered me in my decision. He has said what I know will be the general opinion of the world. Most of the views I had expressed in the beginning part ofMarigold, and you will remember how those were received—as ‘uncouth attempts at satire,’ ‘silly remarks,’ ‘a farrago of nonsense,’ ‘a silly and pretentious book.’ “I have told you I do not mind criticism, neither do I. But it hurts me to the very soul that people should so misunderstand that which is true. God knows with what purity of intention I wrote the first chapters ofMarigold—never meaning to give offence, but how in this world can it be avoided?
“I have read the criticism, and I could answer it word for word, or any criticism that might follow it from any source, but that is not allowed, and not to be. When I first wroteThe FulfilmentI longed to see it published, that I might fight the battle for it with my pen. It would have been like coming down into the arena to fight and breathe and conquer. But as the time went by, after it was returned to me, I began to realise slowly what a terrible book I had written, as well as beautiful and true, and it seemed as if it called for all I had to give as an expiation before it could go free. I put it away—the book and the thought. But I began to write ever on the same theme—the revelation Heaven had given me. You know how it has prospered. And then on Whitsunday the voice awoke me that I must bring my greatest treasure forward once again, for though I have let it lie patiently these four years, hoping to make an opening for it, it has ever been in my heart and brain. And again I felt the pleasing prospects of the battle. I knew what strength I had, and always have had, did I care to use it, to answer those who disagreed with what I wrote. And in the cause of such a book I felt that everything would be allowable. But there has come the Season out of Silence to be silent. We cannot bandy words about religious things. I cannot anyway. I feel it all so much I cannot talk about it. For all I write about I love and fear. God knows I have not been familiar, I have only loved simply both God and man.
“But there is only one way of showing it, and that by dying simply. When I am once out of the way the big stumbling-block has been removed. People can no longer think I have written with a fanciful irreverence when I have had before me, all the time, nothing but Death; for I believe, looking back, it was there with the very first page.
“And so (for when this reaches you I shall be dead—only to this world) I leave it as my dying request that you publish, exactly as I have sent it to you,The Fulfilment. You must ask the gentleman to return it, and tell him my decision. And at the same time I do not wish you or him or anyone to think that his criticism has had anything to do with my death. For I do not wish you or anyone to view me as a common suicide—overcome by this or that, or bowed down by the thought of failure or disappointment. I have simply died to make room for a great truth. And I have died trusting humbly in God.
“And so you cannot deny me that which I decide. To you it must become an impersonal affair. You must publish it because it is a dying command, and publish it word for word as I have left it. And now no one can take offence—neither the company whose impress the book bears, nor anyone connected with it.
“And of the religionists I only ask that they will have the same toleration for me that I have ever had for them. I mean those who are sincere and simple among them, of any denomination. For I am sincere and simple too.
“And now I must say ‘Good-bye.’ I feel very sad about it, for I have written so many letters to you, and told you so many things that it is parting with a friend. And you will say a good word for me if you get the chance. And if they say I’m mad, tell them from me it’s a madness that will spread—not thesuicidebut thebelief. But indeed it is no madness.
“And for your friend, tell him this from me—I wasn’t writing of ‘ParadiseLost’ but of ‘HeavenGained,’ and that if I remember my Milton correctly, they didn’taspireto tea-tables in the Garden, but simply ate it picnic fashion, so that Heaven with its tables goes one better still. And tell him that if he will only read the book through once again, I think he’ll find there is a simple, homely charm even in Jesus Christ, for it’s like everything else. You’ve got to get used to it. And when I go to Heaven I’d rather meet simple people who had power than great big kings who talked of it and sometimes found it wasn’t there. And give him my love and tell him there was no one more disgusted with those sties than I was at the time. And that the young man was so terriblyrealhe nearly broke my heart, and the College—well, perhaps thatwasa nightmare, but they’re realer than anything else. And tell him it was allme. And ask him not to be too particular over grammar, or meanings or muddles. They were invented to make men human—that is, unsuperior. I never heard of such a thing as Goethe explaining his meaning all before. That’squitean old fashion. You give people nothing to think about, and cast quite a slur upon their reputation for brains.
“And you see in my capacity as teacher I wouldforcepeople to think if I could, whether they would or no.
“I am afraid I am very loath to stop, it will be such a long silence—but silence speaks, you know, and I shall speak, or rather my Heavenly Father. And now I say, not from politeness, but from the bottom of my heart, I hope some day we shall meet again—not in stuffy London, or anywhere upon this earth, but, why not? at one of the tea-tables of Heaven. And I wish it very much indeed—and it all depends on you—whether you will follow in the simple way that God directs.
“With kind regards, and the love that all Heaven’s children may bear with one another.”
Both Miss Allonby’s previous books,Jewel SowersandMarigold, were subjected to revision before they appeared, and her publisher fully expected that she would consent to the same necessary revisions in the case ofThe Fulfilment. There was no question as to the book being published. It was mutually understood thatThe Fulfilmentshould be issued on her birthday, December 1st. She desired that the passages to be deleted should be indicated. Her wish was complied with, and her publishers were daily awaiting a letter giving consent to the revision, which was to be made and submitted for approval, when the news of her death came as a terrible shock. It is here unnecessary to refer to the sympathetic attention the tragedy attracted from the press and the public.
The question then arose as to the possibility of publishing the book for which Miss Allonby died so unnecessarily. Her relatives and her publishers were in constant and personal communication. Could her last wish be fulfilled? Curiously enough she expressed the desire in her will that none of her relatives should see or read the book until it was printed and published. Her publishers’ responsibility was therefore a serious one. The feelings and the wishes of the living and Miss Allonby’s reputation had to be considered. Certain pages of her book contained references to holy things and persons turned in such a way that they seemed flippant, irreverent, even ridiculous, and they were undoubtedly not literature in any sense. No possible good could come of giving such pages to the world. They appear to convey no message, though no doubt the author could have supplied a key. They seem to be meaningless flippancy. Now no one had more sincere respect for Miss Allonby than her publishers. They were on the most friendly terms. Therefore, while they would have liked to carry out her last wish to the letter, they felt that in justice to her memory the book could not appear in the exact condition in which she left it. In this predicament a request was put to a well-known and prominent London minister, of broad views and large sympathies—on whose judgment the publishers felt the utmost reliance could be placed—that he should see the troublesome passages and give his opinion as to the advisability of publishing them. He courteously consented and very kindly gave considerable time and thought to the matter. His earnest opinion was that the book should not be published at all, or, if published, that all the emendations suggested by the publishers should be carried out. For good reasons the minister who thus criticised the book desires that his name shall not be made known, but the public can rest assured that he is a gentleman in whom all denominations would have confidence, and whose judgment all would respect. This opinion was conveyed to Miss Allonby’s relatives and executors, who, after careful consideration, decided to publishThe Fulfilmentwith the emendations the publishers considered necessary. To quote from a letter from the executors: “We think we should do our utmost to carry out Edith’s wishes, but they should be therealwishes. Herrealwish was that the message contained in her book should reach as many as possible. To publish it in its present form, though it would comply with theletterof her request, would be to defeat its object.... The guiding principle should be to publish it in such a form as would be most likely to realise her wish of giving the message to the largest number possible.” Under these conditions the publishers carefully and sympathetically preparedThe Fulfilmentfor press, and it is now published with some of the emendations originally suggested. Only such pages or passages as the publishers considered Miss Allonby herself would, at a more normal time, have deleted have been taken out. The book has not been subjected to any revision, except of the most obviously necessary kind—literals, etc. There are no alterations. All the Editor has done has been to carefully eliminate those passages most likely to give pain and offence both to the relatives and the religious public. Wherever an omission occurs it is indicated by a hiatus, and also a statement to that effect. All those who knew, loved and respected Miss Edith Allonby will understand the publishers’ attitude regarding the emendations. They have been firm in not yielding to the morbid wish of numerous correspondents who have pleaded for the book being issued as the author left it. They have preferred to respect the feelings of the living and honour the memory of the dead.
It will be of interest to quote a few extracts from Miss Allonby’s correspondence relating toThe Fulfilment, as showing her own attitude towards her work. She first approached her publishers respectingThe Fulfilmenton June 17th 1905, when in the course of a long letter she said:—
“June 17th.“Will you please give me all your attention, without thinking of anything else whilst you read. I have beenthinking, five minutes in church last Sunday morning, and since then I have deliberated. You see I have been brought up to teach—in an age when great things are expected of teachers—patience, lucidity, sympathy, and I don’t know what. One’s classes are never blamed for stupidity, carelessness or inattention—only the teacher. That has its dangers for the pupils, certainly, but it does not excuse the teacher from doing the utmost best.... Now I have a book which is as easy to read as A B C (for those who will attend). It has no allegories in it, no myths—nothing but Truth. And I am very proud of it, for it was given me by God right away down at the bottom of the Valley of Despair and Humiliation. I have been wandering about down there, it is true, ever since, but that proves all the more that it is direct from God, for otherwise it isn’t the air in which an ordinary person could live at all. I am not to blame either for keeping it all this time (I wrote it in the spring and summer of 1901), for Ididsend it to some publisher or other one Friday night and it was back by Tuesday morning—and it was too good for that. Too good to be tossed about from one place to the other like any tramp or fawning beggar asking to be taken in.... I am very serious, I am sending to you something that I was going to say is more precious to me than life—I only pray God grant that it may be.”
“June 17th.
“Will you please give me all your attention, without thinking of anything else whilst you read. I have beenthinking, five minutes in church last Sunday morning, and since then I have deliberated. You see I have been brought up to teach—in an age when great things are expected of teachers—patience, lucidity, sympathy, and I don’t know what. One’s classes are never blamed for stupidity, carelessness or inattention—only the teacher. That has its dangers for the pupils, certainly, but it does not excuse the teacher from doing the utmost best.... Now I have a book which is as easy to read as A B C (for those who will attend). It has no allegories in it, no myths—nothing but Truth. And I am very proud of it, for it was given me by God right away down at the bottom of the Valley of Despair and Humiliation. I have been wandering about down there, it is true, ever since, but that proves all the more that it is direct from God, for otherwise it isn’t the air in which an ordinary person could live at all. I am not to blame either for keeping it all this time (I wrote it in the spring and summer of 1901), for Ididsend it to some publisher or other one Friday night and it was back by Tuesday morning—and it was too good for that. Too good to be tossed about from one place to the other like any tramp or fawning beggar asking to be taken in.... I am very serious, I am sending to you something that I was going to say is more precious to me than life—I only pray God grant that it may be.”
The manuscript was duly read and reported on, and, subject to some necessary alterations and omissions being made, it was accepted for publication and a promise given that it should be published on the first of December. The suggested revision was the subject of considerable correspondence. The following few lines are taken from a letter dated August 13th 1905:—
“August 13th.“The first part of the book is true—man can witness that—and for the remainder God is witness. I have not written it for money, I have not written it to please, but only to instruct and lighten those few who care to understand, and they may be few now, but some day they will be many.... Of course I am a bit frightened of the world, but, believe me, I am a great deal more frightened of God.Realfear. That is what makes me write common sense about Heaven instead of twaddle, and as for people being so sensitive about Jesus Christ—they don’t feel all that much, or the world would be a vastly different place.... When I wroteMarigoldyou wanted to send a copy to all the religious papers, but I should likethatforthisinstead, for it is the essence of real, true religion.”
“August 13th.
“The first part of the book is true—man can witness that—and for the remainder God is witness. I have not written it for money, I have not written it to please, but only to instruct and lighten those few who care to understand, and they may be few now, but some day they will be many.... Of course I am a bit frightened of the world, but, believe me, I am a great deal more frightened of God.Realfear. That is what makes me write common sense about Heaven instead of twaddle, and as for people being so sensitive about Jesus Christ—they don’t feel all that much, or the world would be a vastly different place.... When I wroteMarigoldyou wanted to send a copy to all the religious papers, but I should likethatforthisinstead, for it is the essence of real, true religion.”
Miss Allonby’s own opinions as to the seeming irreverence of certain portions of her work were both firm and strong. She knew her own interpretation of such passages. She alone, in her own mind, held the key which would make plain all hidden meanings. She, firm in her own purity and reverence for her Maker, seemed quite unable to realise that others, nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand, would without hesitation condemn much that she had written as rank blasphemy, even as silly, flippant irreverence. Writing on August 20th, she said:—
“August 20th.“Speaking for myself, I do not care one iota about the opinion of the press,religious or otherwise. All I care about is telling what I have to tell as plainly and as simply as is possible. I am perfectly well able to stand the risk of being thought irreverent, for only those who have never understood the meaning of true reverence can accuse me of it. You see Ibelievewhat I have written. I more than believe it. I have felt, and so I know. And that makes all the difference.... Well, it all came to me one long night in the middle of blinding darkness which seemed to send the world topsy-turvy and then set it right again.... If I offend, I offend, but I will offend men rather than God, for it is all quite true in to-day’s Lesson—‘The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.’... Never mind readers, or traditions, or any of those kind of things, for it is time we stepped right out of them. It is silly going the roundabout dangerous way to heaven when God shows a nearer and comparatively easy way.... I don’t think I have anything else to say. I am glad you likedDeborahfrom quite personal reasons—and I hope you don’t want to cross out the bit about the sties, because I daresay there are many other little women treading over the Dark Path who have some such minor disfigurements, or even greater ones. And as for what became of her. My dear sir! can’t yousee—according to the book she went to heaven—isn’t that the ending? and a very nice ending too. Indeed, what could be nicer, for an earthly altar isn’t in it. It has so much heathen self-sacrifice about it.”
“August 20th.
It will be seen from the above extract that the deleting of certain passages was an understood thing, for she hopes that the publisher will not need “to cross out the bit about the sties.”
It would seem impossible to imagine a more bright, gentle and lovable nature than Miss Allonby’s, nor one less likely to give way to a suicidal impulse. She was always of a happy disposition. All who knew her loved her for her pleasant manner, her refinement, her good temper and kindly sympathy. However, it may be recorded that she never enjoyed very good health, being always frail and delicate.
Miss Allonby was born at Bankside Farm, Cark-in-Cartmel, North Lancashire, on December 1st 1875. Her mother died when she was only four years of age, and when she was thirteen she lost her father. She felt his death very keenly, and it made a lasting impression upon her. When she was seven the family moved to Liverpool, and she was educated at St Saviour’s, Everton, at Grove Street College for Girls, and finally at Whitelands College, Chelsea. On leaving college she became mistress of the school at Bishopsbourne, Kent, where she remained for three years. Then she took charge of the school at Bishop’s Fonthill, Salisbury, and afterwards went to Lancaster as head of St Anne’s School, and was there till her untimely and tragic death, a period of four years and a half. When she took charge of the Lancaster School it had a none too enviable reputation either as regards behaviour nor education. By sheer strength of will, by the power of loving-kindness, she made a wonderful change in two years. The children worshipped her, became well-behaved, obedient and attentive to their lessons. The school again earned its grants and gained good reports. One of the Inspectors in a report said that her influence had brought the school “from Darkness into Light.”