"You yourself, sir, in your splendid solitude, can hardly apprehend what the name of George Meredith means to the best intelligences of your era. It is a name honoured and venerated above all titles, signifying to us, your disciples, the sum of all your imaginative genius and your noble example have conferred. We, men and women alike, who are privileged to see you to-day, are sensible of the added understanding which comes of personal association with you, and we shall remember the privilege as one of the most cherished benefits of our lives."
Friar George Meredith said: "I cannot rise, but I wish to speak and say: Ladies and Gentlemen, after a shower of honey from the busiest bees of the bees around me, my wings are clogged, and I cannot fly. I have no words to thank you. But look at the tops of those trees: from that short height the measure of us is seen to be pretty equal. Each does his work in his own way. I find so many people in different walks that can do what I cannot do. Respect is a very great thing, but I think we are in the habit of falling into a kind of delirium in regard to men who after seventy years or more have made a name. We take them as brandy—(laughter)—it is better to make a kind of dilution, and therefore I mix a considerable amount of water with your compliments. (Laughter.) However, I thank you heartily for coming to see me. If I had the eloquence of that true Irishman, Mr. T.P. O'Connor, I should be making an impression now—(laughter)—but I am only half Irish—half Irish and half Welsh—I halt therefore rather on one leg. The Welsh are admirable singers, but bad dancers. Mr. O'Connor would say not only the words most appropriate, but his language would flow on, and you would not be able to stop him. (Laughter.) I have not that gift, I can only thank you for your kindness. (Loud applause.)"
Some of the visitors left their host to visit the Châlet, which, judging from its dusty appearance, now rarely received a visit from its master. This literary workshop consists of two rooms, one for work and the other for rest and refreshment. The former contained a well-selected library of English and foreign books, all exhibiting the appearance of having been well used. Brockhaus's Great Lexicon was a prominent feature in the library, which also contained first editions of several of Meredith's own books and various autograph presentation works from some of his literary friends. On the writing table there were many well-used quill pens and scraps of MS., which to the relic hunter were objects of great temptation, but reverence forbad sacrilege. Through fear of our tiring a body which Nature has made far too weak for such a mind, the pilgrimage had to be brought to an early close, so with minds stimulated and trying to hold some of the wise thoughts and expressions which had fallen from the great novelist's lips, we returned to our hotel.
After the tea provided by our always practical secretary, a few short and thoughtful speeches were delivered by the Prior, Sir William Treloar and the Rev. W.J. Dawson; then, with cordial farewells and those pleasing amenities which help so much in making such outings as these doubly enjoyable, we journeyed back to the station and to town. So ended what to others beside myself will always be remembered as one of the red-letter days of our lives.
Another delightful outing was to Colchester and Constable's country. There, we were not entertained with "Oysters and Erings Roots," but with the historical memorials for which this town and district are famous. After going over the Abbey, the Town Hall, and admiring the four bronze Ravens which are supposed to be relics of the tenth century, we drove through the Constable country, visiting "The Vale of Dedham," passing the Elizabethan Grammar School where John Constable was educated, "Willy Lotts House" and "Flatford Mill." During another summer, our journey was to the Dickens country. After alighting at Sole Street station and visiting the Leather Bottle, with its numerous Dickens relics, and Cobham Church, we drove to Rochester and lunched at the celebrated Bull Hotel, so humorously associated with Mr. Winkle. Later on in the day we visited the Cathedral and Dean Hole's delightful garden of roses.
The House of the Seven Poor Travellers fascinated us greatly, as here we were shown Dickens' signature when he spent the night getting material for his Christmas story of the "Seven Poor Travellers." We also inspected the outbuildings in which he and the other travellers slept. Among other journeys of very great interest, was one by train to Oxford and from thence by boat up the Thames to Goring: the scenery through which we passed is well known for its bewildering beauty.
Most interesting to me, as I happened to be at the time the Hon. Secretary, was our pilgrimage to Hatfield House. Upon arriving at Hatfield House and being received with a kindly shake of the hand by the Countess of Salisbury, she showed us through the rooms in which are located many wonderful historical treasures. More especially to be admired was the collection of arms, many of which had been captured from the Spanish Armada. The great library and the wonderful pictures by Holbein, Van Dyck, Reynolds, and others, fascinated us all, but perhaps the most interesting were the various relics connected with Queen Elizabeth: the oak-tree under which she was seated when the news came of Queen Mary's death and of her own accession to the throne; the cradle once occupied by Elizabeth; and a pair of her silk stockings, and a garden bonnet which she wore when walking in the surrounding woods.
On leaving Hatfield House we drove over to St. Albans, where we visited the old and delightful Cathedral, rich in its historical associations, and, after an enjoyable dinner at one of the hotels, returned home with minds full of the events which have helped to make the greatness of England.
I might mention other delightful "outings" and events, but those which I have given show the many fascinating episodes associated with the Whitefriars Club.
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