“October 11th.—The minute appears in all the morning papers except the Times.”
The time appointed for the actual change being now close at hand, definite and binding arrangements were indispensable. The duties were accordingly divided by mutual agreement amongst Mr. Tilley, Mr. Bokenham, and myself. I was, however, confident of success, as by this time a large number of volunteers had come forward, so that we had to make a selection, the men chosen being principally from the secretary’s office. The readiness to volunteer from this division of the service proceeded, as I had the gratification to learn, from a step taken by Colonel Maberly, who, calling his clerks together, addressed them in a speech in which he pointed out that the department was in danger through unjust attacks, and called upon them to stand forth in its defence.
“In the evening the Postmaster-General came to the office, having arrived in town late last night, and met the deputation. Reporters were present, and reports will, no doubt, appear in the morning papers. The deputation, the Postmaster-General says, pressed for a postponement of the measure, pleading that they had scarcely had time to read the minute; and after they left it was decided to delay the change for a fortnight. . . . We discussed the question of compulsion, towards which I find the Postmaster-General inclined; but here again I found him uninformed as to the facts of the case. He was not aware either that the clerks now engaged on Sunday are volunteers, or that a sufficient number of men for the new duties had come forward. I entreated him not to resort to compulsion, telling him that I had authorised others to say that none would be employed except volunteers, and pointing out that any compulsion would give the men a real grievance, whereas at present their case rested entirely on misrepresentation.”
“October 12th.—The best report on the deputation is in the Morning Chronicle, which also contains an able leader in favour of the measure.”
On the morrow I conferred again with the Postmaster-General relative to the arrangements in question, when he communicated to me, in strict confidence, that he feared there was a decided leaning towards the insubordinate men on the part of certain important officials whom he named.
“We again discussed the question of compulsion, and the Postmaster-General promised that no compulsion should be resorted to if the work could be done by volunteers on Bokenham’s plan or on mine.”
After recording these transactions, my Journal thus continues:—
“It is impossible to notice all the proceedings of the week, nor is it necessary. The accounts of meetings to protest against the measure, and the gross falsehoods which have been promulgated in order to get up a case, will be found in the Morning Herald; . . . the real facts appearing in my published minute, and in the statements of Ministers on receiving the deputation of Wednesday.”
It is remarkable that while the only firm stand against compulsion was made by myself, it was upon me that the blame of this imaginary compulsion was chiefly laid; against me that the most unscrupulous asseverations were uttered, and the bitterest reproaches directed. I had been for a long time earnestly and successfully engaged in reducing the Sunday labour of the department throughout the United Kingdom.[62] Hundreds of persons, through measures adopted on my recommendation, had been released from the greater part of their Sunday duty. I had, in fact, been strenuously, though quietly, doing the very work of the Lord’s Day Society; and, now, because a further important measure in the same direction required a small temporary addition to the Sunday force of the London office alone, this even being so arranged as that all engaged would be released from duty an hour before the usual time for the commencement of Divine Service, I was denounced as the chief enemy of the due observance of the Sunday, and charged with a wicked intention to compel, whereas, on the contrary, I was doing my very best to prevent compulsion. These attacks, too, so painful and injurious to myself, were no less endangering the great measure of relief which I was striving to carry through. As I have said, the public could not yet think—it only felt. Under such circumstances I was bound to be most heedful lest any act or even acquiescence on my part, real or apparent, might give, or seem to give, ground, however slight, for just imputation.