He often wrote to his wife whilst the debates were going on in the House of Commons. "Here I am, sitting listening to Arthur Balfour, who is answering Mr. J. Morley," he writes; "and I have ears for him and thoughts for my dear ones at home."
"Remember me in your prayers" is a request he often makes to his wife and children. In 1886 the Rt. Hon. W. H. Smith became leader of the House of Commons, and had thus reached one of the highest positions any Englishman can occupy. "Old Morality" was the nickname by which he was known; and this term is one of great honour. No man ever gained higher respect from all parties, and no man was ever more fully trusted by the people at large. Thus though Mr. Smith never entered the Church, and perchance missed a bishopric, yet he was a good citizen of the world and a humble Christian, devoting his best energies to the service of his Queen and country.
"GREATER THAN AN ARCHBISHOP."
ANECDOTES ABOUT THE REV. CHARLES SIMEON.
"As to Simeon," wrote Macaulay, "if you knew what his authority and influence were, and how they extended from Cambridge to the most remote corners of England, you would allow that his real sway over the Church was far greater than that of any primate."
There is little recorded of Simeon's early life to indicate the character of the future leader of men; for, to "jump over half a dozen chairs in succession, and snuff a candle with his feet," is an ordinary schoolboy accomplishment. Yet there is one incident which shows he could be in earnest in religious matters, even at that date.
Whilst he was at Eton, in 1776, a national fast-day was appointed on account of the war with America, which was then in progress. Simeon, feeling that, if any one had displeased God more than others, it was certainly he, spent the day in prayer and fasting. So great was the ridicule, however, which followed, that he gave up his serious thoughts for the time, though it is related that he kept an alms-box, into which he put money whenever his conscience accused him of wrong-doing.
It was rather a favourite habit of his to punish himself by fines for bad behaviour. Later on in life, when he found it difficult to rise early in the morning, he resolved to give the servant half a crown every time he played the part of the sluggard. One morning he found himself reasoning in his own mind, whilst enjoying a warm, comfortable bed, that, after all, half-crowns were very acceptable to the poor woman who received them. But he made up his mind to put an end, once and for all, to such suggestions from the tempter; and resolved accordingly that, if he got up late again, he would throw a guinea into the Cam. He did it too. The next time he rose late he walked down to the river, and threw a hard-earned guinea into the water. It was worth while, nevertheless; for he never had to punish himself again for the same fault.
The turning point in his life came soon after his arrival at
Cambridge.
The provost sent him a message to say that he would be required to partake of the Holy Communion at mid-term, then about three weeks distant.