MY RELIGIOUS LIFE
No one can write his real religious life with pen or pencil. It is
written only in actions, and its seal is our character, not our
orthodoxy. Whether we, our neighbour, or God is the judge, absolutely
the only value of our "religious" life to ourselves or to any one is
what it fits us for and enables us to do. Creeds, when expressed only
in words, clothes, or abnormal lives, are daily growing less
acceptable as passports to Paradise. What my particular intellect can
accept cannot commend me to God. His "well done" is only spoken to the
man who "wills to do His will."
We map the world out into black and white patches for "heathen" and
"Christian"--as if those who made the charts believed that one section
possessed a monopoly of God's sonship. Europe was marked white, which
is to-day comment enough on this division. A black friend of mine used
often to remind me that in his country the Devil was white.
My own religious experiences divide my life into three periods. As a
boy at school, and as a young man at hospital, the truth or untruth of
Christianity as taught by the churches did not interest me enough to
devote a thought to it. It was neither a disturbing nor a vital
influence in my life. My mother was my ideal of goodness. I have never
known her speak an angry or unkind word. Sitting here looking back on
over fifty years of life, I cannot pick out one thing to criticize in
my mother.
What did interest me was athletics. Like most English boys I almost
worshipped physical accomplishments. I had the supremest contempt for
clothes except those designed for action or comfort. Since no saint
apparently ever wore trousers, or appeared to care about football
knickers, I never supposed that they could be the same flesh as myself.
It was always a barrier between me and the parsons and religious persons
generally that they affected clothing which dubbed my ideals "worldly."
It was even a barrier between myself and the Christ that I could not
think of Him in flannels or a gymnasium suit. At that time I should have
considered such an idea blasphemous--whatever that meant. As soon as
religious services ceased to be compulsory for me, I only attended them
as a concession to others. The prime object of the prayers and lessons
did not appear to be that they might be understood. So far as I could
see, common sense and plain natural feelings were at a discount. A long
heritage of an eager, restless spirit left me uninterested in
"homilies," and aided by the "dim religious light," I was enabled to
sleep through both long prayers and sermons. Justice forces me to add
that the two endless hours of "prep" lessons after tea had very much the
same effect upon me.
At the request of my mother I once went to take a class at the Sunday
School. These were for the "poor only" in England in those days.
Little effort was expended on making them attractive. I recall nothing
but disgust at the dirty urchins with whom I had to associate for half
an hour. An incident which happened on the death of one of the boys at
my father's school interested me temporarily in religion. The boy's
father happened to be a dissenter, and our vicar refused to allow the
gates of the parish churchyard to be opened to enable the funeral
cortege to enter. My chum had only a legal right to be buried in the
yard. The coffin had therefore to be lifted over the wall and as the
church was locked, father conducted the service in the open air. His
words at the grave-side gave a touch of reality to religion, and still
more so did his walking down the aisle out of church the following
Sunday when the vicar referred to the destructive influence of
anything that lent colour to dissent. Later when father threw up the
school for the far more onerous and less remunerative task of chaplain
at the London Hospital, even I realized that religion meant something.
Indeed, it was that tax on his sensitive, nervous brain that brought
his life to its early close. No man ever had a more generous and
soft-hearted father. He never refused us any reasonable request, and
very few unreasonable ones, and allowed us an amount of
self-determination enjoyed by few. How deeply and how often have I
regretted that I did not understand him better. His brilliant
scholarship, and the friends that it brought around him, his ability
literally to speak Greek and Latin as he could German and French, his
exceptionally developed mental as compared with his physical gifts,
were undoubtedly the reasons that a very ordinary English boy could
not appreciate him.
At fourteen years of age, at Marlborough School, I was asked if I
wished to be confirmed. Every boy of that age was. It permitted one to
remain when "the kids went out after first service." It added dignity,
like a football cap or a mustache. All I remember about it was
bitterly resenting having to "swat up" the Catechism out of school
hours. I counted, however, on the examiner being easy, and he was. I
am an absolute believer in boys making a definite decision to follow
the Christ; and that in the hands of a really keen Christian man the
rite of confirmation is very valuable. The call which gets home to a
boy's heart is the call to do things. If only a boy can be led to see
that the following of Christ demands a real knighthood, and that true
chivalry is Christ's service, he will want all the rites and
ceremonies that either proclaim his allegiance or promise him help and
strength to live up to it.
What I now believe that D.L. Moody did for me was just to show that
under all the shams and externals of religion was a vital call in the
world for things that I could do. This marks the beginning of the
second period of my religious development. He helped me to see myself
as God sees the "unprofitable servant," and to be ashamed. He started
me working for all I was worth, and made religion real fun--a new
field brimming with opportunities. With me the pendulum swung very
far. The evangelical to my mind had a monopoly of infallible truth. A
Roman Catholic I regarded as a relic of mediaevalism; while almost a
rigour went down my spine when a man told me that he was a "Unitarian
Christian." Hyphenation was loyalty compared to that. I mention this
only because it shows how I can now understand intolerance and
dogmatism in others. Yes, I must have been "very impossible," for then
I honestly thought that I knew it all.
About this time I began to be interested in reading my Bible, and I
learned to appreciate my father's expositions of it. At prayers he
always translated into the vernacular from the original of either the
Old or the New Testament. To me he seemed to know every sense of every
Greek word in any setting. Ever since I have been satisfied to use an
English version, knowing that I cannot improve on the words chosen by
the various learned translators.
Because I owed so much to evangelical teachers, it worried me for a
long while that I could not bring myself to argue with my boys about
their intellectual attitude to Christ. My Sunday class contained
several Jews whom I loved. I respected them more because they made no
verbal professions. I have seen Turkish religionists dancing and
whirling in Asia Minor at their prayers. I have seen much emotional
Christianity, and I fully realize the value of approaching men on
their emotional side. A demonstrative preacher impresses large crowds
of people at once. But all the same, I have learned from many
disillusionments to be afraid of overdoing emotionalism in religion.
Summing up the evidence of men's Christlikeness by their characters,
as I look back down my long list of loved and honoured helpers and
friends, I am certainly safe in saying that I at least should judge
that no section of Christ's Church has any monopoly of Christ's
spirit; and that I should like infinitely less to be examined on my
own dogmatic theology than I should thirty-five years ago. Combined
with this goes the fact that though I know the days of my stay on
earth are greatly reduced, I seem to be less rather than more anxious
about "the morrow." For though time has rounded off the corners of my
conceit, experience of God's dealing with such an unworthy midget as
myself has so strengthened the foundations on which faith stood, that
Christ now means more to me as a living Presence than when I laid more
emphasis on the dogmas concerning Him.
This chapter would not be complete without an endeavour to face the
task of trying to answer the questions so often asked: "What is your
position now? Do you still believe as you did when you first decided
to serve Christ?" I am still a communicant member "in good standing"
of the Episcopal Church. One hopes that one's religious ideas grow
like the rest of one's life. It is fools who are said to rush in where
angels fear to tread. The most powerful Christian churches in the
world, the Greek and the Roman, recognizing the great dangers
threatening, have countered by stereotyping the answer for all time,
assuming all responsibility, and permitting no individual freedom in
the matter. The numbers of their adherents testify to how vast a
proportion of mankind the course appeals. And yet we are sons of
God--and at our best value freedom in every department of our
being--spirit as well as mind and body. George Adam Smith says: "The
great causes of God and humanity are not defeated by the hot assaults
of the Devil, but by the slow, crushing, glacier-like mass of
thousands and thousands of indifferent nobodies. God's causes are
never destroyed by being blown up, but by being sat upon. It is not
the violent and anarchical whom we have to fear in the war for human
progress, but the slow, the staid, the respectable; and the danger of
these lies in their real skepticism. Though it would abhor
articulately confessing that God does nothing, it virtually means so
by refusing to share manifest opportunities for serving Him."
Feeble and devious as my own footsteps have been since my decision to
follow Jesus Christ, I believe more than ever that this is the only
real adventure of life. No step in life do I even compare with that
one in permanent satisfaction. I deeply regret that I did not take it
sooner. I do not feel that it mattered much whether I chose medicine
for an occupation, or law, or education, or commerce, or any other way
to justify my existence by working for a living as every honest man
should. But if there is one thing about which I never have any
question, it is that the decision and endeavour to follow the Christ
does for men what nothing else on earth can. Without stultifying our
reason, it develops all that makes men godlike. Christ claimed that it
was the only way to find out truth.
To me, enforced asceticism, vows of celibacy, denunciation of
pleasures innocent in themselves, intellectual monopoly of
interpretation of things past or present, written or unwritten, are
travesties of common sense, which is to me the Voice within. Not being
a philosopher, I do not classify it, but I listen to it, because I
believe it to be the Voice of God. That is the first point which I
have no fear in putting on record.
The extraordinary revelations of some Power outside ourselves leading
and guiding and helping and chastening are, I am certain, really the
ordinary experiences of every man who is willing to accept the fact
that we are sons of God. Only a child, however, who submits to his
father can expect to enjoy or understand his dealings. If we look into
our everyday life we cannot fail to see that God not only allows but
seeks our cooperation in the establishment of His Kingdom. So the
second fundamental by which I stand is the certainty of a possible
real and close relationship between man and God. Not one qualm assails
my intellect or my intuition when I say that I know absolutely that
God is my Father. To live "as seeing Him who is invisible" is my one
ideal which embraces all the lesser ideals of my life.
It has been my lot in life to have to stand by many death-beds, and to
be called in to dying men and women almost as a routine in my
profession. Yet I am increasingly convinced that their spirits never
die at all. I am sure that there is no real death. Death is no
argument against, but rather for, life. Eternal life is the complement
of all my unsatisfied ideals; and experience teaches me that the
belief in it is a greater incentive to be useful and good than any
other I know.
I have read "Raymond" with great interest. I am neither capable nor
willing to criticize those who, with the deductive ability of such
men as Sir Oliver Lodge, are brave enough and unselfish enough to
devote their talents to pioneering in a field that certainly needs and
merits more scientific investigation, seeing that it has possibilities
of such great moment to mankind.
The experiences on which rest one's own convictions of continuing life
are of an entirely different nature. Even though the first and
personal reason may seem foolish, it is because I desire it so much.
This is a natural passion, common to all human beings. Experience
convinces me that such longings are purposeful and do not go
unsatisfied.
No, we do not know everything yet; and perhaps the critic is a
shallower fool than he judges to be the patient delvers into the
unknown beyond. The evidence on which our deductions have been based
through the ages may suddenly be proven fallible after all. It may be
that there is no such thing as matter. Chemists and physicists now
admit that is possible. The spiritual may be far more real than the
material, in spite of the cocksure conceit of the current science of
1918. Immortality may be the complement of mortality, as water becomes
steam, and steam becomes power, and power becomes heat, and heat
becomes light. The conclusion that life beyond is the conservation of
energy of life here may be as scientific as that great natural law for
material things. I see knowledge become service, service become joy. I
see fear prohibit glands from secreting, hope bring back colour to the
face and tone to the blood. I see something not material make Jekyl
into Hyde; and thank God, make Hyde over into Jekyl again, when birch
rods and iron bars have no effect whatever. I have seen love do
physical things which the mere intellectual convictions cannot--make
hearts beat and eyes sparkle, that would not respond even to
digitalis and strychnine. I claim that the boy is justified in saying
that his kite exists in the heaven, even though it is out of sight and
the string leads round the corner, on no other presumption than that
he feels it tugging. I prefer to stand with Moses in his belief in the
Promised Land, and that we can reach it, than to believe that the
Celestial City is a mirage.
This attempted analysis of my religious life has revealed to me two
great changes in my position toward its intellectual or dogmatic
demands, and both of them are reflections of the ever rightly changing
attitude of the defenders of our Christian faith. "Tempora mutantur et
nos mutamus in illis." Christians should not fret because they cannot
escape adapting themselves to the environment of 1918--which is no
longer that of 918, or 18. The one and only hope for any force,
Christianity no less than others, is its ability to adapt itself to
all time.
I still study my Bible in the morning and scribble on the margin the
lessons which I get out of the portion. I can only do it by using a
new copy each time I finish, because it brings new thoughts according
to the peculiar experiences, tasks, needs, and environments of the
day. I change I know. It does not--and yet it does--for we see the old
truths in new lights. That to me is the glory of the Scriptures.
Somehow it suits itself always to my developing needs. Christ did not
teach as did other teachers. He taught for all time. We find out that
our attitude to everything changes, to the things that give us
pleasure and to those that give us pain. It is but a sign of healthy
evolution (in this chapter, I suppose I should call it "grace") that
the great churches have ceased to condemn their leaders who are
unsound on points which once spelt fagot and stake. To-day
predestination no longer involves the same reaction, even if dropped
into a conference of selected "Wee Frees." The American section of the
Episcopal Church has omitted to insist on our publicly and
periodically declaring that we must have a correct view of three
Incomprehensibles, or be damned, as is still the case in our Church of
England.
I am writing of my religion. The churches are now teaching that
religion is action, not diction. There was a time when I could work
with only one section of the Church of God. Thank God, it was a very
brief period, but I weep for it just the same. Now I can not only work
with any section, but worship with them also. If there is error in
their intellectual attitudes, it is to God they stand, not to me.
Doubtless there is just as much error in mine. To me, he is the best
Christian who "judges not." To claim a monopoly of Christian religion
for any church, looked at from the point of view of following Jesus
Christ, is ridiculous. So I find that I have changed, changed in the
importance which I place on what others think and upon what I myself
think.
Unless a Christian is a witness in his life, his opinions do not
matter two pins to God or man. Of course, to-day _we_ should not burn
Savonarola, any more than we should actually crucify that brave old
fisherman, Peter, or ridicule a Gordon or a Livingstone, or
assassinate a Lincoln or a Phillips Brooks, even with our tongues,
though they differed from us in their view of what the Christian
religion really needs. Oh, of course we shouldn't!
Perhaps my change spells more and not less faith in the Saviour of the
world. As I love the facts of life more, I care less for fusty
commentators. As I see more of Christ's living with us all the days, I
care less for arguments about His death. I have no more doubt that He
lives in His world to-day than that I do. Why should I blame myself
because more and more my mind emphasizes the fact that it is because
He lives, and only so far as He lives in me, that I shall live also?
THE END
INDEX
Agriculture, in Labrador, unsuccessful, 217, 290.
Alaska, reindeer experiment in, 291, 294-295.
Albert, the, hospital ship of Dr. Grenfell, 125, 188, 189.
_Among the Deep-Sea Fishers_, magazine, 280.
Andrews, Dr. Joseph, eye-specialist, 357.
Archibald, Sir William, chairman of the Royal National Mission to
Deep-Sea Fishermen, 362.
Armstrong, Dr. Seymour, his work at St. Anthony, 367.
Arnold, Thomas, of Rugby, 14.
Athletics, Grenfell's fondness of, 21, 32, 44, 50, 51, 53, 81, 424.
Bailey, Florence, nurse, 326.
Barnett, Samuel, of Mile End, head of Toynbee House, 83.
Barter system, the evils of, 131, 132, 133-138, 215-217.
Bartlett, Captain, father of "Captain Bob," 136.
Battle Harbour, Newfoundland, site of hospital, 126, 162, 165, 169, 193.
Beattie, Arthur, 192.
Beetz, Mr., 239.
Begbie, Harold, _Twice-Born Men_, 101.
Bell, Dr. Alexander Graham, 338.
Belle Isle, the Straits of, Labrador, 126, 127, 140, 250.
Besant, Mrs. Annie, associated with Charles Bradlaugh, 81, 82.
Blandford, Captain Samuel, 159, 172.
Bobardt, Dr. Arthur, 126, 159-162.
Booth, Walter, of New York, 370, 371.
Bowditch, William, 275.
Boys' Brigade, the, 101, 353.
Bradlaugh, Charles, religious radical, 81-82.
Cabot, John, 120.
Carpenter, Rev. C.C., 241, 242.
Carrel, Dr. Alexis, in France, 397.
Cartier, Jacques, 158.
Cartwright, George, 158.
Catholic Cadet Corps, the, 159, 353.
Cattle-raising in Labrador unsuccessful, 290.
Cawardine, Miss, nurse, 126.
Charity, prophylactic, more important than remedial, 235.
Cheever, Colonel David, 389.
Chester, England, birthplace of Grenfell, 1, 2.
Chidley, Cape, Labrador, 164, 207, 208.
Children's Home, the, 244-253.
Church Lads Brigade, the, 159, 353.
Clark, Sir Andrew, doctor, 65.
Cluett, George B., of Troy, N.Y., 347, 348.
Cook, Captain, 128, 340, 341.
Cooperative system, the, 215-225.
_Corner_, the, magazine, 242.
Crookhaven, seat of a dispensary and social centre, 107.
Crowe, Harry, lumber operator, 370.
Curtis, Dr. Charles, 408.
Curtis, Lieutenant Roger, quoted, 158.
Curwen, Dr. Elliott, 126.
Curzon-Howe, Lady, 191.
Curzon-Howe, Lord, 191.
Cutter, Marion, librarian, 266.
Daly, Professor Reginald, head of Department of Geology at Harvard
University, quoted, 157, 158.
Dampier, William, 191.
Davis Inlet, Labrador, 154, 155.
Dawson, Sir Betrand, 388.
Dee, the River, 2, 4.
Delano, Eugene, head of Brown Brothers, bankers, 358.
Denominationalism, evils of, 264, 269, 353.
Dogs, Labrador, ferocity of, 198, 289, 290.
Domino Run, Labrador, natural harbour, 120.
Drake, Sir Francis, 191.
Duke of Connaught, Governor-General of Canada, 382.
Durand, Mrs. Charles, aunt of Mrs. Grenfell, 336.
Education in Labrador: schools denominational, 254, 269;
Grenfell's school, 257-264;
moving libraries, 266;
founding of undenominational boarding school, 268.
Edward VII, King, Grenfell's private audience with, 284, 285.
Edwards, Antiguan lecturer of the Christian Evidence Society, 82, 84, 85.
Emily Beaver Chamberlain Memorial Hospital, 404.
English, Robert, of Yale College, 277, 278.
Eskimos, the, Grenfell's work with, 129-136;
original natives of Labrador, 140, 141;
Valentine, king of, 155;
suffering of, 155.
Evans, John, worker at St. Anthony, 405.
Fallon, Dr. Louis, 405.
Faroe Islands, the, 184.
Fenwick, Harry, 69.
"Fisher Lads' Letter-Writing Association," 97.
Fishermen's Institute, 183.
Ford, George, factor of Hudson Bay Company, 141, 155, 242, 277, 327.
Fox Farm, at St. Anthony, 238-240.
George V, King, 352, 353.
Gladstone, W.E., 106.
Gosling, Mrs. W.E., 370.
Gould, Albert, volunteer helper of Grenfell, 318, 321.
Great Cop, the, 4.
Greenshields, Julia, editor of _Among the Deep-Sea Fishers_, 280.
Grenfell, Algernon, brother of W.T.G., 7, 8, 9, 10.
Grenfell, Algernon Sydney, father of W.T.G., 8, 9, 11, 12.
Grenfell, Cecil, brother of W.T.G., 7.
Grenfell, Kinloch Pascoe, son of W.T.G., 342.
Grenfell, Maurice, brother of W.T.G., 7.
Grenfell, Pascoe, of Bank of England, 161.
Grenfell, Rosamond Loveday, daughter of W.T.G., 342.
Grenfell, Wilfred Thomason, birth, 1;
ancestry, 1, 2;
early days, 2-14;
school life, 15-36;
study of natural objects, 34-36;
choice of medical profession, 37-39;
college life, 41-44;
interest in athletics, 44;
religious awakening, 44-46;
Sunday-school class and slum work, 46-53;
summer cruises, 53-57;
camping with boys, 57-63;
germination of democratic tendencies, 63;
interne in London Hospital, 64-87;
father's death, 73;
humanitarian ideals, 78, 79;
hatred of liquor traffic, 79;
association with religious radicals in East London, 81-86;
cosmopolitan life, 85;
member of College of Physicians and Royal College of Surgeons of
England, 87;
first work in fisheries of North Sea, 88-98;
his religion intensely social, 99-101;
medical officer in boys' summer-camps, 102, 103;
development of work in North Sea and off Irish coast, 104-114;
preparation and departure for America, 113-118;
first summer in Labrador, 119-125;
success in Labrador, 125;
return to England, 126;
second voyage to Labrador, 126;
founding of cottage hospitals, 126;
visits to Moravian Brethren and work among Eskimos, 128-138;
lecturing and soliciting in southern Newfoundland and Canada, 159-162;
cruising north, 163-170;
experience with seal fishery, 173-182;
trip to Iceland, 183-187;
holiday with Treves on Scilly Islands, 187, 188;
third voyage to Newfoundland, 192, 193;
requested to establish a winter station at St. Anthony, 194;
winter at St. Anthony, 197-214;
institution of cooperative system, 218-225;
institution of saw-mill in North Newfoundland, 226-238;
fox farm at St. Anthony, 238, 239;
founding of The Children's Home, 244;
founding of common school, 257-265;
moving libraries, 266;
arrangement of two-cent postal rate, 281, 282;
awarded honorary degree of Doctor of Medicine of Oxford, 282;
received honorary degree of Doctor of Laws in America, 283;
received Companionship in the Order of St. Michael and St. George, 284;
reindeer experiment, 288-303;
propaganda lecturing in England, 331, 332;
courtship, 333-337;
enlargement of St. Anthony Hospital, 338, 339;
marriage and family, 342, 343;
assumption of cooperative store debt, 344-347;
founding of Institute at St. John's, 349-353;
lecture tour in U.S. and England, 357-361;
lecture tour again, 371-374;
holiday in Asia Minor, 376-382;
winter at base hospital in France (1915), 384-402;
attacked by a St. John's newspaper, 403;
growth and development of Mission, 404-410;
religious life, 424-434.
Grenfell, Wilfred Thomason, Jr., 342.
Grenfell Association of America, the, 280.
Grenfell Town, 161.
Grieve, Dr. John, 404.
Haldane, Lord, 256.
Halifax, visited by Grenfell, 159.
Hare, Dr. Mather, work at Harrington, 275-276, 409.
Harrington Hospital, Canadian Labrador, 418.
Hause, Mr., of Pratt Institute, volunteer student helper, 325.
Hearn longliners and trawlers, 183.
Heligoland, visited by Grenfell, 90.
Henley, or Chateau, Labrador, 168.
Henson, Dr. Hensley, Bishop of Hereford, 83, 84.
Home, the Children's, 244-253.
Hopedale, Labrador, 128, 131.
Horsley, Sir Victor, doctor, 72.
Hot-heads, launches used in open sea, 275-279.
Hudson Bay Company, the, 133, 216, 276, 376.
Huxley, Professor, his criticism of English public school teaching, 40.
Hyeres, France, 24.
Iceland, 183-187.
Illiteracy, in Newfoundland and Labrador, 255.
Indian Harbour, site of one of Grenfell's hospitals, 126.
Indian Tickle, Labrador, site of a church built by Labrador Mission, 165.
Ingram, Rt. Rev. A.F. Winnington, Bishop of London, 83, 84.
International Grenfell Association the, formation of, 358-359.
Ireland, Archbishop, 268.
Irish Poor-Relief Board, 109.
Irving, Sir Henry, 80.
Jackson, Rev. Dr. Sheldon, Presbyterian missionary in Alaska, 290.
Job, the Honourable W.C., 403.
Job, Mrs. W.C., 370.
Jones, Rev. Dr. Edgar, 268.
Jones, Sir Robert, orthopedic surgeon. 359, 360, 385, 388.
Jones, Mr. Walter, manager of Institute at St. John's, 367.
Julia Sheriden, the, Mission steamer, 193, 196.
Kean, Captain, of the S.S. Wolf, 180, 181.
Keese, Ruth (Mrs. John Mason Little, Jr.), 405.
Kingsley, Charles, 2, 103, 187, 256.
Komatik, description of a, 202, 203.
_Labrador, the Country and the People_, 139.
Labrador, inhabitants of, 139, 140;
climate of, 140, 141;
fishing industry, 141, 142;
poverty of people, 142, 148-153;
superstition of people, 142-145;
natural characteristics of, 156-158.
Lake Forest, on Lake Michigan, Mrs. Grenfell's home, 336.
Lapps, 292-294.
Leacock, Stephen, his essay, _How to Become a Doctor_, 144, 145.
Leslie, Olive, kindergartner, 260.
Lewis Bay, Labrador, winter hospital station at, 404.
Lighthouses, at Battle Harbour, 273;
at White Point, 274;
at Indian Harbour, 274.
Liquor traffic, the, Grenfell's hatred of, 79;
his suppression of, at St. Anthony, 209-214;
at St. John's, 353-356.
Lister, Sir Joseph, 70.
Little, Dr. John Mason, 338, 404, 406, 417.
Lloyd, Dr., Prime Minister of Newfoundland, 382.
Lodge, Sir Oliver, 430, 431.
London Hospital and University, Grenfell's father chaplain of, 37;
Grenfell's alma mater, 39.
Loti, Pierre, 186.
Luther, Jessie, 422.
MacAusland, Dr. W.R., of Boston, 381.
MacClanahan, Anna Elizabeth Caldwell (Mrs. W.T. Grenfell), 336.
MacClanahan, Colonel, father-in-law of Grenfell, 336.
MacGregor, Sir William, Governor of Newfoundland, 291, 320-323.
Mackenzie, Sir Stephen, 66.
Marlborough School, 15-24, 27, 30-33.
Marquis of Ripon, Minister to the Colonies, 286.
Mason, A.E.W., novelist, 187.
Matheson, Paul, volunteer helper of Grenfell, 318.
McCook, Colonel Anson G., 281, 282.
McGrath, Sir Patrick, 382.
Methodist guards, the, 159, 353.
Meyer, Hon. George von L., Postmaster-General, 281, 282.
Mill, the, on the "French Shore," Newfoundland, 326-238.
Mission to Deep-Sea Fishermen, 90.
Montreal, visited by Grenfell, 160, 161.
Moody, Dwight L., evangelist, 45, 427.
Moravian Brethren, the, their work with the Eskimos, 128, 129, 130,
132, 140, 156, 207.
Moravian Mission, 129-132.
Muir, Ethel Gordon, teacher, 267.
Murchison Prize, awarded Grenfell by the Royal Geographical Society,
in 1911, 323.
Nain, Labrador, 130, 132.
Nakvak, Labrador, 141;
remains of Tunits there, 155.
Napatuliarasok Island, Labrador, noted for its Labradorite, 156.
Nasson Institute, 264.
Needlework Guild of America, the, 251, 419.
Newfoundland, independent colony of England, 139;
Labrador owned by, 139;
difference between North and South Newfoundland, 250.
Nielsen, Adolph, Superintendent of Fisheries off Labrador, 117.
O'Brien, Sir Terence, governor at St. John's, 117, 171.
Paddon, Dr. and Mrs., 404, 405.
Parkhurst, Dr. Charles H., of New York, 280.
Peary, Admiral, return of from North Pole, 339-342.
Pomiuk, Prince, Eskimo, 241-243.
Pratt Institute, 256, 258, 264.
Presbyterian Highland Brigade, the, 353.
Prince Edward Island, 240.
Princess May, the midget steam launch, 127, 128.
Public School Camps, 101.
R.A.M.C., efficiency of in France, 398-400.
_Raymond_, Sir Oliver Lodge, 430, 431.
Red Bay, Labrador, 218.
Red Bay Cooperative Store, 219.
Reed, William Howell, of Boston, 292.
Reikyavik, capital of Iceland, 184.
Reindeer experiment, the, 290-303.
Ripon, Marquis of, 159.
Rivington, Sir Walter, surgeon, 70.
Roddick, Sir Thomas, 162.
Roosevelt, the, Peary's ship, 340, 341.
Rowland, John, of Yale College, 277, 278.
St. Anthony, Newfoundland, 141;
poverty of people, 194, 195;
Grenfell's first winter in, 197-214;
Grenfell's fight against liquor traffic, 209-214;
headquarters of hospital stations, 417.
St. John's, burning of, 115, 116;
seat of Newfoundland government, 139.
Sands of Dee, the, 1-7.
Sayre, Francis B., secretary of Grenfell, 250, 338, 339, 341, 342,
374, 375.
Scilly Islands, 187.
Seal Fishery, the, 172-182.
Seyde Fjord, Iceland, visited by Grenfell, 186, 187.
Sheard, Mr., 404.
Sir Donald, the, mission steamer, 161, 190, 191, 208.
Skiff, Captain, 183.
Sloggett, Sir Arthur, general, 385, 398, 399.
Smith, George Adam, quoted, 429.
Southborough, Lord (Mr. Francis Hopwood), 113.
Spalding, Katie, of The Children's Home, 251, 253.
Spencer, Martyn, 290, 370.
Stewart, Dr. and Mrs. Norman, 405.
Stirling, W.R., 333, 337, 348, 407.
Storr, Eleanor, of The Children's Home, 250, 253.
Strathcona, Lord (Donald Smith), patron of Labrador Mission, 160, 161;
donor of the Strathcona, 191, 376.
Studd, J.E. and C.T., 45.
Sutton, Dr., London Hospital, 69.
Terschelling, visited by Grenfell, 90.
Tickle, the Grenfell, 209.
Tigris, the S.S., of the Polaris expedition, 178.
Tilt Cove, Newfoundland, 192, 193.
_Toilers of the Deep, The_, magazine, 280.
Tralee, on Kerry coast, seat of a dispensary, 107.
Treves, Sir Frederick, lecturer in anatomy and surgery in London
Hospital and University, 43, 67-69, 88, 187, 254, 285, 388;
_The Cradle of the Deep_, 187.
Trevize, skipper, 114.
Truck Acts, 96.
Ungava Bay, Labrador, 164, 208.
Van Dyke, Dr. Henry, 362.
Vestmann Islands, Iceland, visited by Grenfell, 184.
Victoria, Queen, 104
Victoria Park, London, 81-82.
Wakefield, Dr. Arthur, of England, 368, 369.
_Wall Street Journal_, quoted, 294, 295.
Watson, the Honourable Robert, 403.
Wellington, Duke of, 187.
West, Dr., 275, 409.
White, Emma E., secretary of Labrador Mission in Boston, 279, 324.
White Bay, Labrador, 148.
Whitechapel Road, site of London Hospital, 40.
Whitney, Harry, 340.
Williams, Miss, nurse, 126.
Williams, George, 364, 365.
Williams, Sir Ralph, governor of Newfoundland, 350-352.
Willway, Dr., colleague of Grenfell, 169.
Wilson, Jessie, daughter of President Wilson, 374, 375.
Wiltsie, Dr., his work in Labrador, 363, 364.
Wolf, the S.S., wreck of, 180, 181.
Yarmouth, institute for fishermen ashore, and dispensary vessel, 105.
Y.M.C.A. in St. John's, 353;
in France, 389, 390.
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE. MASSACHUSETTS
U . S . A
* * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
| Typographical errors corrected in text: |
| |
| Page 13: comimg replaced with coming |
| Page 96: vicitms replaced with victims |
| Page 162: sudddenly replaced with suddenly |
| Page 256: runnng replaced with running |
| Page 303: Reinder replaced with Reindeer |
| Page 332: aften replaced with often |
| Page 441: Slogget replaced with Sloggett |
| |
+-----------------------------------------------------------+