“And for your friend, tell him this from me—I wasn’t writing of ‘Paradise Lost’ but of ‘Heaven Gained,’ and that if I remember my Milton correctly, they didn’t aspire to 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 terribly real he nearly broke my heart, and the College—well, perhaps that was a nightmare, but they’re realer than anything else. And tell him it was all me. 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’s quite an 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 would force people 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 Sowers and Marigold, were subjected to revision before they appeared, and her publisher fully expected that she would consent to the same necessary revisions in the case of The Fulfilment. There was no question as to the book being published. It was mutually understood that The Fulfilment should 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 publish The Fulfilment with 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 the real wishes. Her real wish 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 the letter of 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 prepared The Fulfilment for 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 to The Fulfilment, as showing her own attitude towards her work. She first approached her publishers respecting The Fulfilment on 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 been thinking, 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 I did send 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:—