run under this system are no training school for the young; who get nothing but an up-bringing under a régime of tyranny and fear. It may be objected that it would not be possible for a mistress-herself not versed in the matter of rearing infants or in the art of cooking— to undertake the training of the nursery-maid or the kitchenmaid; but if it is the recognised custom of the house that these have in the eyes of their mistress a position of equality with the cook and the nurse-equality as to position, though not, of course, as to knowledge and experience—much is already accomplished. Let each have their different duties, but that does not necessarily imply inferiority; it is marvellous how people play up to what is expected of them, and if that were the tone of the house it would soon come to be accepted.

In this matter of training and influencing others, I do not believe we any of us realise what a tremendous advantage our education has given us. Granted we are ignorant of technical knowledge—and it is well to remedy this-still it is a small matter compared with the advantage that the mental training we have ourselves received gives us. Another asset in our favour for the work of training our household is the position we occupy. We each have our ambitions and our dreams of greatness to come, but it will not be that of having a girl under us '-to be 'upper of three' or head nurse of many will leave us cold; it is the fact that the 'upper' and the 'head' are necessarily fighting for their own hand, in their so-called 'training' of the 'under,' that is the cause of the very unsatisfactory results of this training. In the case of a great household, a housekeeper, I admit, becomes a necessity, but let her be a woman of education, of wide interests and sympathy, and on her, and her alone, would I devolve my authority. Where the question of position and of rights is not the burning question of every hour, there is much more room for easy and pleasant intercourse between each member of a household-here there will be a giving and a taking, the natural and spontaneous giving of mutual help and exchange of acts of courtesy, because the position is no longer affected by either the giving or the taking of assistance, and the question of rights ceases to exist. And it is in such an atmosphere, where giving and taking is the custom and rule of the house, that we would wish our boys and girls to grow up.

In these days of hospital nurses, of servant-ridden homes, we have lost the sense of personal service; in men it is reduced to occasionally putting coals on the fire; in women to pouring out the tea. (And even these are frequently given over to a footman and a butler !) By losing the sense of personal service we lose much else; above all, we discard the natural simple means of self-expression. And the joy of self-expression, the pleasure of taking, the delight of giving; all these we lose, which are so many ways placed in our hands for expressing the love and tenderness within us. Let our boys and girls adopt Ich dien for their motto, and let them carry it out in the letter and in the spirit.

I appear to have drifted far from my subject of fear, but it is in appearance only, for the essence of a gift is that it should be freely and spontaneously given, and not through fear or compulsion. In the home in which fear prevails there will be no interchange of these precious gifts, of such acts of attention and of personal service.

VOL. LXIII-No. 373

M. A. TYRRELL.

H H

HENRY WALKER, JOURNALIST OF THE

COMMONWEALTH

On the 4th of January 1642, King Charles the First made his famous and unsuccessful attempt to arrest the five members in the House of Commons, and the next day went to the Guildhall, subsequently dining in the City with Sir George Garrett, alderman and sheriff.

6

It was late in the gloomy winter's afternoon when his Majesty's coach drove back to Whitehall through St. Paul's Churchyard, and, as he came by amongst the drapers,' cries were raised of ' Privilege!' 'Privilege of Parliament !' at which the King was troubled.' A man stood among the crowd with a pamphlet in his hand intending to deliver it to the King, but could not come near him owing to the press, and, emboldened perhaps by the noise, insolently threw it into the King's coach-in the King's face. The Earl of Essex, who was in the coach with the King, took it up, and on their return to Whitehall the document was read. It was then found to be a most seditious and dangerous pamphlet bearing the title of To your Tents, O Israel! -an open invitation to rebellion and to take up arms against the King.

The man who threw the libel had been recognised as one Henry Walker, who had already been brought before the House of Lords for writing two libels called The Prelates Pride and Verses on the Wren and the Finch. For these he had been committed to the Fleet the 12th of March 1640, but five days later was released on his own petition, being a poor man and very sorry.' And the House of Commons, on the 20th of December 1641, had also sent for him as a delinquent for the making of a book called A terrible outcry against the loytering exalted Prelates.1

The next morning the Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench was sent for, and warrants issued for the arrest of Walker and the printer of the libels. Walker was taken first, and on being examined denied that he wrote the pamphlet, but said that he bought it of a young

He was not very prepossessing in his personal appearance from all accounts, foi he had a round face like a moon calf,' was 'jaundy lookt,' and had a 'carrot beard.' It is thus clear that it was not easy to make a mistake about his personal appearance.

scholar in Westminster Hall for 2s. 6d., signing his statement. But when the printer was examined it was found that Walker had written it all with his own hand, borrowing the printer's wife's Bible in order to find the text, and that the whole of the night preceding the King's journey into the City had been spent in the writing and printing of it. Walker and the printer were then committed to the King's Bench prison in Southwark.

A week later on, being removed to Newgate for trial at the Sessions, they were rescued at Blackfriars by a mob. Twice taken afterwards, Walker again twice escaped, and more warrants were issued for his arrest. On one occasion, clad in clerical cassock and girdle, he preached at the Church of St. Mary Magdalen, Bermondsey, with the result apparently of a free fight among his audience. At the last he was captured by Sir John Conyers, Lieutenant of the Tower, in a boat on the Thames, and finally tried at the Old Bailey.

By a special direction of the King-that he was not to suffer in life or limb-he was not tried for high treason, in which case he must infallibly have lost his life, but merely for misdemeanour. The jury convicted him of writing, composing, publishing and receiving money for the sale of his libel. He then (on the 12th of July 1642) begged the King's pardon, retracted what he had written with tears,' and was mercifully condemned to the (in the circumstances) singularly lenient punishment of standing in the pillory in Cheapside.

This, however, was to be but the first book that Henry Walker was to write against his Sovereign, and before recounting his later career it will be best to trace his early history.

Among the eccentric geniuses of the first half of the seventeenth century must be numbered John Taylor, the Water poet' as he loved to call himself. He was of humble origin, and his calling in life but that of a Thames waterman, yet, in spite of 'some cockle' in his work, a true bard. Taylor was devoted to his King and his Church, and a born pamphleteer of Walker's own class and rank in life, and, just previous to his conviction at the Old Bailey, Walker had been foolish enough to break a controversial lance with him. The watermen were the great competitors of the hackney coachmen of their day, and had all the readiness in repartee which marks the latter class in our own times. Taylor had discovered the true weapon with which to fight the Puritans-ridicule. Wit and humour were qualities which no Puritan ever possessed.

In 1641 he published A Swarme of Sectaries and Schismatiques, Wherein is discovered the strange preaching (or prating) of such as are by their trades Coblers, Tinkers, Pedlars, Weavers, etc., etc., an exposure in verse of the private lives of some noted preachers. This brought Walker into the field with An Answer, partly in verse and the rest both scurrilous in language and foul in the personal charges made against Taylor, which (after an exhortation to Taylor to repent) he

signed with the anagram V.R. Heavenly. K.R.' Taylor thereupon answered him with A Reply as true as steele. To a rusty, Rayling, Ridiculous, Lying Libell, which was lately written by an impudent unsoder'd ironmonger, etc., couched in the same vein, with a scurrilous woodcut on the cover, and suggested in it a new anagram for Walker in the shape of‘Knav,' ' Reviler,'' Hel.' He pointed out in it that Walker's verse was stole from Fenner the dead riming poet,' and recounted a story of Walker's pawning his Bible for a quart of metheglin at the Owl' in King Street. This seems to have lashed Walker into a fury in which he cast aside every rag of decency, and replied with Taylor's physicke has purged the Divel, etc., by Voluntas Ambulatoria.' Foul in language and illustrated with an indescribable woodcut, the most extraordinary thing about this pamphlet is the claim to gentility and the right to bear arms set up by him in it. Taylor's pedegree' was, he says, 'farre inferior to mine,' and after several pages of abuse he accused the latter of being a thief, and predicted a sudden death for him. Another poet of the same class, George Richardson, known as the 'Irish footman,' now intervened in support of Taylor with a pamphlet in verse, and said of Walker's 'pedegree' that

he should rather be

Of that Ape carrier's affinity

Hight Richard Walker, but call'd Cherry-lickam

Whom with his well-taught beast I saw at Wickham,

casting doubts upon his affinity to the ancient family of Walkers of Bredsall. Probably the intervener was Taylor himself.

Walker's trial for the insult to the King now came on, and was followed by Taylor's publishing his Whole Life and Progress of Henry Walker the Ironmonger, from which we learn that Walker had originally been apprenticed to one Mr. Holland, an ironmonger in Newgate Market, had set up in business for himself, failed, and had since been a bookseller and writer of seditious and puritanical pamphlets, employing a ragged regiment of tatterdemalions, mercuries and hawkers' to vend them about the streets. A last pamphlet by Taylor was one of which Walker was never to hear the last. It was a burlesque sermon, as it might be delivered in Hatcham Barne, the 13th day of March last stylo Novo. Taken in short-writing by "Thorny Ailo" [Taylor's anagram] and now printed in words at length, not figures (1642). Known as Walker's sermon on 'Tobies dogges tayle,' it effectually cured him of ever again attempting to cross swords with any Royalist in controversy, and it is, perhaps, for this reason that his later works show such a marked absence of the scurrility which defiles the earlier ones.

But it is the pamphlet which he published after his punishment in the pillory that gives the best key to the character of the future journalist of the Commonwealth. It was entitled the Modest Vindication