REPEAL.
In the spring of 1882 George Butler resigned the Principalship of
Liverpool College, and three months later Mr. Gladstone appointed him
to a Canonry at Winchester. This year Josephine Butler published _The
Life of Jean Frederic Oberlin_, the gentle and beloved Pastor of the
Ban de la Roche (1740-1826), who not only ministered to his people
in things spiritual, but also in things material, teaching them to
make roads and to grow potatoes. Like John Grey, he changed the whole
aspect of the country side, and in his old age his great services
were recognised by the award to him of the gold medal of the Royal
Agricultural Society of France, and by the King bestowing on him the
dignity of Chevalier of the Legion of Honour. The following passage
illustrates the great principle of his life—_ora et labora_.
In our own busy and exciting times, when competition (even in good
works) is apt to distract and disturb the heart and the brain of the
followers of Christ, to the detriment of calmness and depth, we all
require to be reminded of the one and only source of true life and
power. Our young, hard-worked ministers, and many other Christian
workers, both old and young, engaged in the multitudinous active duties
which they are required in these days to fulfil to the last tittle, and
in favour of which they too often postpone even the work of waiting
upon God, know by bitter experience the deadening effect on the soul
of the enforced whirl of active engagements—benevolent, pious, and
laudable as these may be. But by whom are these chains enforced, to
the disadvantage of the spiritual life? By the tyrant society—even a
Christian society, which can in its turn become tyrannical. It would be
better to rebel somewhat against this tyranny, to resist the pressure
of _over_-work, and to determine to be often alone with God, even if
our hours with Him appeared to rob earth of a small particle of our
poor services.
Bernard of Clairvaux, when engaged in a correspondence with persons
and orders throughout the whole of Europe, battling single-handed with
an amount of work which might overwhelm any modern Secretary of State,
found that on the days when he spent the most time in prayer, and in
listening to the voice of God and the teachings of the Spirit, his
letters were the most rapidly written and persuasive, and his active
work the most promptly and successively accomplished. His many schemes,
evolved from his own ingenious brain, widened into or were lost in the
far greater plan and purpose of God; anxiety was allayed; power—the
power of the Holy Spirit, to which he had opened his heart—flowed
forth, and was felt in every word he wrote or spoke, and in his very
presence and looks.
Oberlin reserved stated hours for private prayer during the day, at
which times none, as a rule, were permitted to interrupt him. These
hours came to be known to all his parishioners, and it was usual for
carters or labourers, returning from the fields with talk and laughter,
to uncover their heads as they passed beneath the walls of his house.
If the children ran by too noisily these working people would check
them with uplifted finger, and say, “Hush! He is praying for us.” At
times his soul was moved to an agony of intercession for his people;
he travailed in birth for them. Sometimes he was in darkness on their
account. His natural kindness to all becoming, under the influence of
the Holy Spirit, a constant and yearning desire for their salvation,
he would spend hours on his knees pouring out his soul in prayer for
them with “strong crying and tears.” He felt the awful nature of the
responsibility of one who is called to be an overseer of the flock of
God, and who must give an account of the souls committed to him. “Oh,
my people, my people, my children, my friends!” he would cry in his
prayers—apostrophising them, and pleading _with_ them as well as for
them, though he was alone with God.
In 1883 Josephine Butler published the remarkable story of _The
Salvation Army in Switzerland_, telling how the workers of the Army in
Geneva had attracted some of the poor slaves of the State-protected
houses, who “escaped or succeeded in obtaining release, and once more
in the light of day, they listened to the glad tidings of salvation;”
and how the keepers of these houses, “like the sellers of the shrines
of Diana, fearing that the hope of their gains was threatened,”
secured bands of roughs, who disturbed the Army’s meetings, until
at last the authorities, being unable or unwilling to keep order,
expelled Miss Catherine Booth and Miss Charlesworth from Geneva as
disturbers of the peace! Later Miss Booth was imprisoned at Neuchâtel,
but was released after a trial at which the illegality of her
treatment was exposed. She was however shortly after expelled from
the Canton; but despite persecution the Army has since prospered in
Switzerland.
The next two letters refer to Mr. C. H. Hopwood’s resolution
condemning the compulsory examination of women under the Contagious
Diseases Acts, which could not be moved, being crowded out by the
debate on the Address.
To her son Stanley.
_February 27th, 1883._
We have had some hard work lately. Father and I went to Cambridge for
a quiet Sunday. It was bright and pleasant there, and the Fellows’
garden was beginning to put on its spring clothing. Then we came up
to London to prepare for the coming on of our question in the House.
A Member of Parliament, whom we met at Cambridge, told us that the
amount of pressure brought to bear at this moment by the country was,
he thought, “unprecedented in the history of any agitation.” Our
friends are active in every nook and corner of the country: even from
remote villages petitions come pouring in. Also many single petitions,
such as from Cardinal Manning and the Moderator of the Free Church
of Scotland. Mr. Hopwood told us that several M.P.’s came to him
yesterday, and said they must vote with us, though before they had
been hostile. “It is a strange thing,” said one, “that people care so
much about this question. All my leading constituents have urged me to
vote with you.” One of our strongest opponents, a military man, said
to him, “Well, you have had extraordinary support from the country; it
is evident that yours is the winning side.”
I was in the Lobby a few days ago, and saw a petition lying in
someone’s hand, on the back of which was written: “Petition from 1553
inhabitants of West Ham.” You know that these are poor working fathers
and mothers, some of whom have lately had their children stolen. They
have had less than a week to collect these names. These silent figures
are eloquent. There is a distinct change of tone in the House, and
your father and I believe that it dates from the time that we came
forward publicly to confess God as our leader. Our cause was openly
baptised, so to speak, in the name of Christ, and our advance has
been steady ever since. Also I thought I saw what I never observed
before in the sceptical and worldly atmosphere of Parliament, _i.e._
signs of a consciousness of a spiritual strife going on. Some members
spoke to us of the spiritual power in our movement, while on the other
hand there is a seething and boiling of unworthy passions, such as
would appal one if one did not remember that it was when the great
Incarnation of purity drew near to the “possessed” man of old that the
“unclean spirits” cried out.
To return to my story. Some of our friends in Parliament telegraphed
to us at Cambridge that no debate would come on, on account of the
arrears of talk on the Address. This is disappointing. Mr. W. E.
Forster’s management of Irish affairs necessitates much discussion.
We have arranged for a great meeting for prayer. We shall hold it
close to the House of Commons during the whole debate, if there is
one, and all night if the debate lasts all night. We have invited
about twenty of our best friends in the House to join us. This meeting
has been advertised in _The Times_, _The Standard_ and _Daily News_.
Some of our parliamentary friends counselled this course, saying that
it was well that all the world should know with what weapons and in
whose name we make war, even if they scoff at the idea, as of course
many do.
To her son.
_February 28th, 1883._
We went to the House at four o’clock yesterday. Justin McCarthy was
speaking. There was still to the last a chance of Mr. Hopwood’s
resolution coming on, but perhaps not till midnight. I did not remain
in the Ladies’ Gallery, but came and went from the prayer-meeting to
the Lobby of the House. We saw John Morley take the oath and his seat.
The first thing he did after taking the oath was to sit down by Mr.
Hopwood and say, “Now tell me what I can do to help you to-night, for
the thing our Newcastle electors were most persistent about was that I
should oppose this legislation.” I then went to the Westminster Palace
Hotel, where we had taken a large room for our devotional meeting.
There were well-dressed ladies, some even of high rank, kneeling
together (almost side by side) with the poorest, and some of the
outcast women of the purlieus of Westminster. Many were weeping, but
when I first went in they were singing, and I never heard a sweeter
sound. There were some cultivated voices amongst them, and the hymns
were well chosen. I felt ready to cry, but I did not; for I long ago
rejected the old ideal of the “division of labour,” that “men must
work and women must weep.” A venerable lady from America rose and
said, “Tears are good, prayers are better, but we should get on better
if behind every tear there was a vote at the ballot box.” Every soul
in that room responded to that sentiment. I never saw a meeting more
moved. The occasion and the circumstances were certainly pathetic. As
we continued to pray we all felt, I think, a great pity come into our
hearts for those men who were at that moment in the House so near to
us, who wield so great a responsibility, and so many of whom will have
a sad account to give of their use of it.
Charles Parker told me next day that at that time several M.P.’s
were walking about the Lobby, and that two young men, not long in
Parliament, said to him, “Have you heard, Parker, that the ladies were
to hold a prayer meeting to-night to pray for us? But I suppose it
is given up, as this debate is to be postponed.” Mr. Parker, better
informed, said, “On the contrary, that is just what they are doing
now, praying for us. It throws a great responsibility on _us_.” The
young men, he said, looked very grave. Father had to return home,
I went back to the House, while other women remained and continued
their intercessions. All Westminster was wrapped in a haze, out of
which glared only the great light on the clock tower. I walked through
the mist, feeling rather sad, and wondering how much longer this
horrible yoke would remain fastened on the neck of a people who wish
to get rid of it, and how long women will be refused a voice in the
representation of the country. I climbed up the wearisome gallery
stairs, and from the grating saw a crowd of our gentlemen friends from
the country sitting in the Strangers’ Gallery opposite. How patiently
they sat through those long hours. Some of them had come even from
Scotland for the purpose. Father had gone home, but just above the
clock I saw George, and tried to catch his eye, but he, believing
that I was at the other meeting, did not look towards our gallery
or see me. I sat on till midnight for the chance of our resolution
coming on. By and by Mr. Hopwood asked the Speaker’s leave to make a
statement. He then made a very good speech, explaining, rather to the
country than to the House, how it was he was prevented from bringing
on his resolution, and saying that Parliament and the Government
should have no peace on the question, for the country was aroused, and
nothing could lessen their present determination. He called them to
witness to the needless waste of time there had been in talking and
recriminations before midnight. Mr. Trevelyan told me he thought our
opponents had purposely prolonged the debate on the Address.
I must tell you that just in the second hour of our prayers your
telegram was handed to me. I thought it was some business, and was
pleasantly surprised when I saw it was from St. Andrews, so far off,
and yet it brought you so near, and just at a moment when it was
peculiarly precious to me.
After another half hour at the meeting, I returned once more to the
Lobby of the House, and found some of our friends waiting about. They
took me out on the terrace along the river front. The fog had cleared
away, and it was very calm under the starlit sky. All the bustle of
the city was stilled, and the only sound was that of the dark water
lapping against the buttresses of the broad stone terrace, the water
into which so many despairing women have flung themselves.
I forgot to tell you that before the debate began I ventured into the
circular hall or lobby next to the House itself, having caught sight
of the venerable face of old Mr. Whitwell. He remembered me, and shook
hands. I stood near him in a corner, as if he had taken me under his
protection. The first word he said to me was, “Has it ever struck you
that there is no one thing in the whole of Christ’s discourses to
which He has given such emphasis as that of the certainty of prayer
being answered? Now you may be sure our persevering prayers will be
answered in this matter.” I saw several other friends, among them your
member, Mr. Williamson, who said, “Tell your son that I have presented
his petition from St. Andrews, and that I support the prayer of it
with all my heart.” I am glad to tell you Albert Grey and Robert Reid,
father’s old pupil at Cheltenham, are with us on the question. I met
Cardinal Manning in the Lobby, and had a pleasant talk with him. He is
much in earnest about all good movements. He has been ill, and looked
even thinner than a spider! He said he would do all he could for us,
through his influence, on the Irish Catholic vote.
On April 20th Mr. Stansfeld moved the resolution condemning compulsory
examination, which Mr. Hopwood had been prevented from bringing on in
February, and it was carried by 182 votes to 110. In accordance with
this resolution, the Government suspended the operation of the Acts in
the following month.
To her sister in Naples.
WINCHESTER, _April, 1883_.
Some day I trust I shall be able to tell you in detail of the events
of the last few days. I longed for your presence during the debate;
it was for us a very solemn time. All day long groups had met for
prayer—some in the houses of M.P.‘s, some in churches, some in halls,
where the poorest people came. Meetings were being held also all
over the kingdom, and telegraphic messages of sympathy came to us
continually from Scotland and Ireland, France, and Switzerland and
Italy. There was something in the air like the approach of victory. As
men and women prayed they suddenly burst forth into praise, thanking
God for the answer, as if it had already been granted. It was a long
debate. The tone of the speeches, both for and against, was remarkably
purified, and with one exception they were altogether on a higher
plane than in former debates. Many of us ladies sat through the whole
evening till after midnight; then came the division. A few minutes
previously Mr. Gerard, the steward of the Ladies’ Gallery, crept
quietly in and whispered to me, “I think you are going to win!” That
reserved official, of course, never betrays sympathy with any party;
nevertheless, I could see the irrepressible pleasure in his face when
he said this.
Never can I forget the expression on the faces of our M.P.’s in
the House when they all streamed back from the division lobby. The
interval during their absence had seemed very long, and we could hear
each other’s breathing, so deep was the silence. We did not require
to wait to hear the announcement of the division by the tellers:
the faces of our friends told the tale. Slowly and steadily they
pressed in, headed by Mr. Stansfeld and Mr. Hopwood, the tellers
on our side. Mr. Fowler’s face was beaming with joy and a kind of
humble triumph. I thought of the words: “Say unto Jerusalem that her
warfare is accomplished.” It was a victory of righteousness over gross
selfishness, injustice, and deceit, and for the moment we were all
elevated by it. When the figures were given out a long-continued cheer
arose, which sounded like a psalm of praise. Then we ran quickly down
from the gallery, and met a number of our friends coming out from
Westminster Hall.
It was half-past one in the morning, and the stars were shining in a
clear sky. I felt at that silent hour in the morning in the spirit of
the Psalmist, who said: “When the Lord turned again the captivity of
Zion we were like unto them that dream.” It almost seemed like a dream.
When Mr. Cavendish Bentinck was speaking against us I noticed an
expression of pain on Mr. Gladstone’s face. He seemed to be pretending
to read a letter, but at last passed his hand over his eyes and left
the House. He returned before Mr. Stansfeld made his noble speech, to
which he listened attentively.
Later in the year she referred to this victory in a speech at
Birmingham, which was printed under the title _The Bright Side of the
Question_, and from which we quote the two following paragraphs.
I will say then to the women here one word. Dear women, I recall a
scene; you will understand me. The night of the memorable debate in
April, lasting many hours, there were meetings of women not far from
the House of Commons—a crowd of women upon their knees through a great
part of the night. I crept out of the House of Commons, where I was
in the Ladies’ Gallery, and joined those meetings for a few moments.
It was a sight I shall never forget. At one meeting there were the
poorest, most ragged and miserable women from the slums of Westminster
on their knees before the God of hosts, with tears and groans pouring
out the burden of their sad hearts. He alone knew what that burden
was. There were mothers who had lost daughters; there were sad-hearted
women; and side by side with these poor souls, dear to God as we are,
there were ladies of high rank, in their splendid dresses—Christian
ladies of the upper classes kneeling and also weeping. I thank God
for this wonderful and beautiful solidarity of the women of the world
before God. Women are called to be a great power in the future, and by
this terrible blow which fell upon us, forcing us to leave our privacy
and bind ourselves together for our less fortunate sisters, we have
passed through an education—a noble education. God has prepared in us,
in the women of the world, a force for all future causes which are
great and just.
We shall not stop, our efforts will not cease when this particular
struggle is at an end. God has called us out, and we must not go
back from any warfare to which He shall now call us in the future.
We praise, we thank Him for what He has done already for us, and for
what He is going to do, for we shall one day have a complete victory.
We can echo the words of that which is written: “My soul doth magnify
the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour, for He hath
regarded the low estate of His handmaidens.” And remember, women, if we
are faithful unto death, from henceforth all men shall call us blessed.
Yes, generations to come, your children and your children’s children
will call you blessed, because you have laboured for purer morals and
for juster laws.
* * * * *
The actual repeal of the laws was retarded, and we began to feel in
1885 that we must make strenuous efforts. There had been on several
occasions solemn meetings of a devotional character on the question,
notably one which lasted several days, and where all the churches were
represented. This was promoted by the Society of Friends. An “All Day
of Prayer” was called in February, 1885. A paper was issued in advance,
giving the subjects to which each succeeding hour would especially be
devoted.
During the year which followed this meeting James Stuart worked with
all his heart and might in Parliament for the success of our cause.
I believe that the Cabinet were rather surprised when a petition was
presented to them by him, signed by two hundred Members of Parliament
on both sides of the House, adjuring the Government to give immediate
attention to this question, as the patience of the people of England
had been sufficiently tried.
At the General Election this year, Josephine Butler issued _A Woman’s
Appeal to the Electors_, some extracts from which are here given.
By whom are we in future to be governed? Women are asking this question
on the eve of the approaching elections, even more anxiously, I
believe, than men; more anxiously, because they themselves are still
denied the right and power of expressing by their votes their opinion
of the candidates who are crowding forward asking to be allowed to
represent them in Parliament, and to have a share in making the laws
by which they and their children, their households, and even their
nurseries, are in future to be influenced for good or for evil. As a
woman, I am deeply thankful that at last the question of private and
personal character is coming to the front in the selection of our
representatives. I hope the day is past in which it could be said
or believed that it was possible for a man who was corrupt in his
private life and character to be a useful, just, or beneficent ruler.
Who can reckon up the miseries, the wrongs, the soul murders, and the
destruction of young lives which have been going on for years past,
owing in a great measure to the shameful state of our laws on questions
bearing on morality, that shameful state being obstinately maintained
year by year by men in Parliament whose very presence there is a block
to all good and pure measures?
I would suggest that each candidate should be asked questions in some
such form as the following:—
(1) Will he vote for the total repeal of the C.D. Acts?
(2) Is he prepared to vote for a parliamentary enquiry into the reason
why the prosecution of Mrs. Jeffries was dropped, and why Inspector
Minahan was dismissed from the police force?
(3) Is he prepared to vote for, or to ask a question in Parliament on
the subject of a parliamentary enquiry as to the circumstances which
have induced the prosecution by the Treasury of Mr. Stead, Mr. Booth,
and their assistants, to whose labours the Criminal Law Amendment Act
has been mainly due; while no prosecution has been undertaken by the
Treasury against any single one of the real offenders, whose crimes
these persons have done so much to expose?
We may, and do hope for a purer Parliament, if the electors will
wake up to the tremendous issues now before this country, issues
immeasurably greater than those depending on the triumph of this
or that political party; but when we shall have secured a purer
Parliament, the struggle for a purified nation and a saved people will
only be at its beginning. Unless God by the might of His Holy Spirit
works powerfully and widely in the hearts of our people—in our own
hearts, each one of us—we shall not be saved as a people in the mighty
shaking of the nations which is at hand. The diseases of our own hearts
and of our social system, if but slightly healed, will break forth
again; moral corruption will set in again like a flood-tide; the noble
watchwords of to-day will become the rotten and wretched Shibboleths
of to-morrow; we shall have “a name to live while we are dead.” For
my part, I have not an atom of faith in any reform, moral, social, or
political, which has not at its root a real repentance before God,
a ruthless banishing from the heart and life by individuals of all
that is opposed to justice, purity, and holiness, and a quickening of
every power of the soul by the breath of the Spirit of God. Christian
politicians, lovers of our country, let us, while we work, also
pray—unitedly pray—that God will arise and, taking our nation in hand,
will chasten, train, and mould it for the carrying out of His own
purposes in the future of the world.
* * * * *
The actual repeal of this legislation was carried in April, 1886. My
husband and I were at the time staying with my sister in Naples. It
was a great joy to us to receive a telegram on April 16th, signed by
Mr. Stuart and Mr. Stansfeld, saying: “The Royal Assent has this day
been given to the Repeal Bill.” I thanked God at that moment that Queen
Victoria had washed her hands of a stain which she had unconsciously
contracted in the first endorsement of this legislation.