Margot Asquith, an Autobiography Part 29

The bequest from my old friend [Footnote: Andrew Carnegie.] in America was a pleasant refresher, and it touched me, considering how different we were in training, character, tastes, temperament.

I was first introduced to him with commendation by Mr. Arnold--a curious trio, wasn't it? He thought, and was proud of it, that he, A. C., introduced M. A. and me to the United States.

I watch events and men here pretty vigilantly, with what good and hopeful spirits you can imagine. When you return do pay me a visit. There's n.o.body who would be such a tonic to an octogenarian.

Always, always, your affectionate friend,

J. M.

When I had been wrestling with this autobiography for two months I wrote and told John Morley of my venture, and this is his reply:

FLOWERMEAD, PRINCES ROAD, WIMBLEDON PARK, S.W. (JAN., 1920).

DEAR MRS. ASQUITH,

A bird in the air had already whispered the matter of your literary venture, and I neither had nor have any doubt at all that the publisher knew very well what he was about. The book will be bright in real knowledge of the world; rich in points of life; sympathetic with human nature, which in strength and weakness is never petty or small.

Be sure to TRUST YOURSELF; and don't worry about critics. You need no words to tell you how warmly I am interested in your great design. PERSEVERE.

How kind to bid me to your royal [Footnote: I invited him to meet the Prince of Wales.] meal. But I am too old for company that would be so new, so don't take it amiss, my best of friends, if I ask to be bidden when I should see more of YOU. You don't know how dull a man, once lively, can degenerate into being.

Your always affectionate and grateful

J. MORLEY.

To return to my triumphant youth: I will end this chapter with a note which my friend, Lady Frances Balfour--one of the few women of outstanding intellect that I have known--sent me from her father, the late Duke of Argyll, the wonderful orator of whom it was said that he was like a cannon being fired off by a canary.

Frances asked me to meet him at a small dinner and placed me next to him. In the course of our conversation, he quoted these words that he had heard in a sermon preached by Dr. Caird:

"Oh! for the time when Church and State shall no longer be the watchword of opposing hosts, when every man shall be a priest and every priest shall be a king, as priest clothed with righteousness, as king with power!"

I made him write them down for me, and we discussed religion, preachers and politics at some length before I went home.

The next morning he wrote to his daughter:

ARGYLL LODGE, KENSINGTON.

DEAR FRANCES,

How dare you ask me to meet a syren.

Your affectionate,

A.

CHAPTER II

CHARACTER SKETCH OF MARGOT--PLANS TO START A MAGAZINE--MEETS MASTER OF BALLIOL; JOWETT'S ORTHODOXY; HIS INTEREST IN AND INFLUENCE OVER MARGOT--ROSE IN "ROBERT ELSMERE" IDENTIFIED AS MARGOT--JOWETT'S OPINION OF NEWMAN--JOWETT ADVISES MARGOT TO MARRY--HUXLEY'S BLASPHEMY

I shall open this chapter of my autobiography with a character- sketch of myself, written at Glen in one of our pencil-games in January, 1888. Nearly every one in the room guessed that I was the subject, but opinions differed as to the authorship. Some thought that our dear and clever friend, G.o.dfrey Webb, had written it as a sort of joke.

"In appearance she was small, with rapid, nervous movements; energetic, never wholly ungraceful, but inclined to be restless.

Her face did not betray the intelligence she possessed, as her eyes, though clear and well-shaped, were too close together. Her hawky nose was bent over a short upper lip and meaningless mouth.

The chin showed more definite character than her other features, being large, bony and prominent, and she had curly, pretty hair, growing well on a finely-cut forehead; the ensemble healthy and mobile; in manner easy, unself-conscious, emphatic, inclined to be noisy from over-keenness and perfectly self-possessed.

Conversation graphic and exaggerated, eager and concentrated, with a natural gift of expression. Her honesty more a peculiarity than a virtue. Decision more of instinct than of reason; a disengaged mind wholly unfettered by prejudice. Very observant and a fine judge of her fellow-creatures, finding all interesting and worthy of her speculation. She was not easily depressed by antagonistic circ.u.mstances or social situations hostile to herself--on the contrary, her spirit rose in all losing games. She was a.s.sisted in this by having no personal vanity, the highest vitality and great self-confidence. She was self-indulgent, though not selfish, and had not enough self-control for her pa.s.sion and impetuosity; it was owing more to dash and grit than to any foresight that she kept out of difficulties. She distrusted the dried-up advice of many people, who prefer coining evil to publishing good. She was lacking in awe, and no respecter of persons; loving old people because she never felt they were old. Warm-hearted, and with much power of devotion, thinking no trouble too great to take for those you love, and agreeing with Dr. Johnson that friendships should be kept in constant repair. Too many interests and too many-sided.

Fond of people, animals, books, sport, music, art and exercise.

More Bohemian than exclusive and with a certain power of investing acquaintances and even bores with interest. Pa.s.sionate love of Nature. Lacking in devotional, practising religion; otherwise sensitively religious. Sensible; not easily influenced for good or evil. Jealous, keen and faithful in affection. Great want of plodding perseverance, doing many things with promise and nothing well. A fine ear for music: no execution; a good eye for drawing: no knowledge or practice in perspective; more critical than constructive. Very cool and decided with horses. Good nerve, good whip and a fine rider. Intellectually self-made, ambitious, independent and self-willed. Fond of admiration and love from both men and women, and able to give it."

I sent this to Dr. Jowett with another character-sketch of Gladstone. After reading them, he wrote me this letter:

BALL. COLL. Oct. 23rd, 1890.

MY DEAR MARGOT,

I return the book [Footnote: A commonplace book with a few written sketches of people in it.] which you entrusted to me: I was very much interested by it. The sketch of Gladstone is excellent. Pray write some more of it some time: I understand him better after reading it.

The young lady's portrait of herself is quite truthful and not at all flattered: shall I add a trait or two? "She is very sincere and extremely clever; indeed, her cleverness almost amounts to genius. She might be a distinguished auth.o.r.ess if she would--but she wastes her time and her gifts scampering about the world and going from one country house to another in a manner not pleasant to look back upon and still less pleasant to think of twenty years hence, when youth will have made itself wings and fled away."

If you know her, will you tell her with my love, that I do not like to offer her any more advice, but I wish that she would take counsel with herself. She has made a great position, though slippery and dangerous: will she not add to this a n.o.ble and simple life which can alone give a true value to it? The higher we rise, the more self-discipline, self-control and economy is required of us. It is a hard thing to be in the world but not of it; to be outwardly much like other people and yet to be cherishing an ideal which extends over the whole of life and beyond; to have a natural love for every one, especially for the poor; to get rid, not of wit or good humour, but of frivolity and excitement; to live "selfless" according to the Will of G.o.d and not after the fashions and opinions of men and women.

Stimulated by this and the encouragement of Lionel Tennyson--a new friend--I was anxious to start a newspaper. When I was a little girl at Glen, there had been a schoolroom paper, called "The Glen Gossip: The Tennant Tatler, or The Peeblesshire Prattler." I believe my brother Eddy wrote the wittiest verses in it; but I was too young to remember much about it or to contribute anything. I had many distinguished friends by that time, all of whom had promised to write for me. The idea was four or five numbers to be ill.u.s.trated by my sister Lucy Graham Smith, and a brilliant letter-press, but, in spite of much discussion among ourselves, it came to nothing. I have always regretted this, as, looking at the names of the contributors and the programme for the first number, I think it might have been a success. The t.i.tle of the paper gave us infinite trouble. We ended by adopting a suggestion of my own, and our new venture was to have been called "To-morrow." This is the list of people who promised to write for me, and the names they suggested for the paper:

Lord and Lady Pembroke Sympathetic Ink.

The Idle Pen.

The Mail.

The Kite.

Blue Ink.

Mr. A. Lyttelton The Hen.

The Chick.

Mr. Knowles The b.u.t.terfly.

Mr. A. J. Balfour The New Eve.

Anonymous.

Mrs. Grundy.

Mr. Oscar Wilde The Life Improver.

Mrs. Grundy's Daughter.

Lady Ribblesdale Jane.

Psyche.

The Mask.

Margot Tennant The Mangle.