The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1881-11-26 00:00:00

THE CONVICT LEFROY.

On Saturday (19th) the relatives of Lefroy received
an anonymous letter in a lady's handwriting, stating
that she haa appointed to meet the convict at London
Bridge Station on the day of the murde4. The letter
is well written, and is dated simply from London, the
envelope having the London postmark. The writer
declares that she made Lefroy's acquaintance casually
in the train, and that she in course of conversation
mentioned that she should like to go upon the stage.
Lefroy said that.he could introduce her to the proprie-
tress of the Brighton Theatre, and an appointment was
made for them to meet at London Bridge, and proceed
together to Brighton by the train in which the murder
was commiged. The writer says she was prevented
from keeping her appointment by her father, who is
an invalid, her mother being dead; and she adds that
she did not appear at the trial, and must still keep her
name a secret, because Ehe was ciparged by her mother
on her death-bed to act strictlA‘ia accordance with
her father's wishes. The letter nas been forwarded
to Mr. Dutton, Lefroy's solicitor; but the friends of
the condemned man havel ittle faith in its genuineness,
neither do they imagine that it will have any weight
in the appeal which they are now making to the Home
Secretary.

Dr. Green, of Peckham, who attended Mrs.
Mapleton, the prisoner's mother, before and at the
time of her confinement, has given his certificate as to
the mental condition of his patient at the period men-
tiOned. He says that for months she suffered from
melancholia, and that the taint of insanity exhibited
was likely to become hereditary. Dr. Green is now a
very elderly gentleman, but he has a clear recollection
of the case, and the notes in his books substantiate his
statement. Another Peckham doctor, who attended
Captain Mapleton up to the time of his death, has
given a certificate to the effect that he died from
insanity, which was likely to be perpetuated.
The memorial to the Home Secretary has a large
number of signatures. Several eminent medical men
have appended their names, and are interesting them-
selves in the case. It is not expected that any reply
to the memorial will be received until the end of the
week, and in the meantime arrangements are being
made for the farewell interview with the culprit.
According to latest accounts from Lewes his health
remains good, and he does not seem to fear the end.
He attends the services in the chapel, and listens
most attentively to the ministrations of the chaplain,
and still spends a great deal of time in writing. He
does hot appear to indulge in thfl hope that the appeal
on the ground of insanity will be successful.

The following is an extract from a letter which
Lefroy has written to a relative :

"My dearest, dearest—lt was, indeed, only what I ex-
pected, to hear that you were ill, but at the same time the
confirmation of my worst hopes gave a fresh source of
grief, and from what I read and am told, I, the un-
fortunate canal of all your grief, am suffering less in
mind than any one of my dear ones outside, and what
all your griefs are—l am speaking collectively now—l
can too well understand. You say, dearest, that after
my death all the sunshine will go from your lives.
Don't let this be so, I implore you. My untimely death
may, with God's grace, be the means of bringing, not
driving out, real sunshine into your lives, not perhaps
the sickly beams of this earthly sun, but rays from God's
own light, to aid your weary steps in seeking that
bright, bright land where, as the old hymn says, We meet
to part no more.' And if this be—and I believe it will be—
try, dearest, to be comforted. You have a glorious work
before you to fit, with Christ's help, all your poor little ones
for the peat journey they must take sooner or later. And
that you will do this duty to the best of your ability I have
no matter of doubt, for I know what your brave unselfish
life has been', and had I imilrated I should not have been
here now." . . .

The presentation of the memorial on behalf of the
convict Lefroy was not made until Tuesday. The
original intention was that it should be delivered at
the Home Office on Monday, but certain statements
had come into the possession of Mr. Dutton, Lefroy's
solicitor, which necessitated careful consideration, and
delayed the appeal to the Home Secretary. Mr.
Dutton was engaged until a late hour in formulating
the new evidence which had been received by him in
support of the plea of insanity,and it was only on Tuesday
afternoon that the memorial and the documents in
support of it were delivered at the Home Office. In
the meantime the preparations for the execution are
being made, and will be proceeded with until the
final decision of the Secretary of State has been made
known.

Lefroy's friends continue to receive at Wallington
numerous letters of sympathy with them. Mrs.
Clayton visited Mr. Dutton on 'Tuesday, and handed
to him the last of the information which she was able
to supply in support of the plea for mercy which is
now being put forward.
The prisoner still continues writing to his friends.
Mrs. Clayton had another letter from him on Mon-
day, couched in much similar terms to those which
have already been published.

SIR THEODORE MARTIN AT ST.
ANDREA'S UNIVERSITY.
Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.8., the newly-elected
rector of St. Andrew's University, arrived in St.
Andrew's on Saturday afternoon accompanied Ly Lady
Martin. He was met at the station by Principal
Tulloch, whose guest he is to be during his stay, and
received a cordial welcome from the students, who
were awaiting the arrival of the train. At night the
students indulged in a torchlight procession in honour
of the rector's visit. On the processionists visiting
the residence of Principal Tulloch, Sir Theodore
thanked the students for the distinguished honour they
had conferred upon him, and for the warm reception
they had accorded him.
On Monday Sir Theodore Martin was installed
Lord Rector of the University of St. Andrew's. The
proceedings took place in the Library-hall, which was
crowded. Principal Tulloch, Vice-Chancellor of the
University. presided, and • administered the ancient
oath of office to Sir Theodore Martin. He also con-
veyed to him the congratulations of the students and
senators on his election, and wished him all happiness
in the discharge of his duties as Rector. The
Principal then vacated the chair in favour of the Lord
Rector.
Sir Theodore Martin, on rising,was loudly applauded.
After a few introductory remarks, in which he thanked
the students for the honour which they had conferred
upon him and made a graceful reference to the late
Dean Stanley, the late Mr. John Stuart Mill, and
Dr. Froude who had preceded him in the rectorial
chair, he said,
Gentlemen,—lt seems to me that never at any
period of our country's history was it more necessary
that young men, on entering into the active life for
which you are now prepared, should bring with them
not only a clear conception of what they mean to
aim at there, but also minds and bodies well pre-
pared for the career, whatever it may be, into which
they may be thrown. Every profession, every
vocation, is crowded to excess, and as the population
goes on augmenting, the struggle for subsistence be-
comes daily harder and harder; the competition for
employment grows keener and keener; the standard
of attainment in knowledge and practical skill be-
comes hiAer and higher, the strain upon the physical
strength more severe. This being so, it becomes
more than ever essential that a young man shall
bring into the field the mats sana in corpore sano—
a sound constitution both of mind and body. To
achieve this result in the degree and manner suitable
to the -various spheres of life is, I presume, the
purpose of all education that deserves the name
But it is in an especial degree that of the class
to which you belong. Our Scottish forefathers
had very clear ideas on this subject. They took care
that every child learnt, both at home and in the
parisiwchool, that he could not do his duty to God or
man unless he lived an honest, sober, truthful, simple
life' making the best that circumstances would permit
of the faculties and opportunities God had given him,
—earning the bread that he ate, and thinking it the
worst of shames not to secure his own independence,
and that of those who had to lean upon him, by the
labour of his brain and hands. That simple, noble creed
were ill-exchanged for the superficial accomplishments
which now-a-days pass in many quarters for education.
In that old system, which had for its main object
mould and weld the character of the people into up-
rightness and self-reliance, book-learning was not over-
looked But as that was not to be acquired without
special gifts, or the leisure of which those who have to
do the rough, every-day work of the world have of
necessity little, no attempt was made to make it general.
At the same time, however, every fair encouragement
was given to those whose genius irresistibly impelled
them to a life of study and research, or to seek a
career in what are called the learned professions.
The great principles by which our ancestors were
guided in these matters are eternally true. To turn
out good men and good citizens was their aim, and
according to their lights and their means they spared
no efforts to achieve it. As regarded primary educa-
tion, there was little room for improvement.
Whether, as time went on and great changes took
place in the circumstances and the wants of the coun-
try, the methods pursued in the higher education were
always the best, is not so clear. Speaking from the
experience of my own youth, the range of studies was
too limited, the methods of instruction were faulty,
and far too much time was spent over these studies,
such as they were. Passing fr sin the High School to
the University, with any love for the classics which
I had ever felt almost crushed out of me, I
must ever remember with kratitude the new life and
interest infused into them for us by.the spirit of the
then Professor of Humanity tin re—Professor Pillans.
What, had seemed harsh, crabbed, colourless, grew full
of fascination and charm, and "a perpetual feast of
nectared sweets, where no crude surfeit reigned." He
taught us to read and to assimilate the thoughts, of
which the words, had heretofore often seemed but sap-
less husks. He connected the literature of Rome with
its history • he made us understand something of the
men to whom it was addressed and of the state of
society in which it was produced. Thus he made it a
living thing for us. He taught us to think of men—
who for us had hitherto been little better than names
—as human beings, much like the men who had made
and were making our own history, and encouraged us
to try to gather from their stories incentives to work
as they had done—
" Certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate,"
and lessons to guide us in the formation of opinion as
to what is the foundation of a nation's greatness, and
by what the greatness of a nation, once achieved, is
alone to be maintained. I recall these experiences
because they seem to me to contain a lesson of wide
application. If boys or young men are to be taught,
you must make sure of their feeling an interest in
what they have to learn. Let them see the use of
what they are learning; make their understanding
work upon it; waken their powers of observation
and deduction • rouse within them the feelings and the
thoughts of which words are but the symbols; feeel
them, in short, with facts which they can appreciate,
and not with phantasmal phrases, and I care not what
you set before them, be it grammar, or history, or geo-
graphy, or classics, or mathematics, or natural science,
or the great leading principles of health, morality, or
economy, and you will have little cause to complain
of the numbers of dull boys or unsatisfactory men. I
believe that it is quite possible to combine a classical
and scientific education, leaving the student to give the
preponderance of his time and attention to that which
he finds most congenial to his gifts and tastes, or
most likely to prove of value to the work he has to
do in life. The too narrow and uniform course of


study formerly pursued in our schools and Universi-
ties did not sufficiently take into account the diversi-
ties in the social position and in the quality and bias
of mind of the student. All this is now in the fair
way to be corrected. In the wide range of academic
studies now pursued there is seope ft.r every variety
of gift and inclination, and there is no longer any eiCtss
for the deadening of enthusiasm, often degenerating
into habits of idleness. But whatever a man's special
gifts may be, or whatever his future profession or
pursuits in life, it seems to me that he cannot but
be a gainer by the training which is to be had under
a good system of classical study. The man who
has grappled successfully with the great Greek and
Roman writers may be trusted to have developed a
faculty which will stand him in et.cell'.3nt Stead,
whatever he may be called upon to do, or wherevet
he may be called upon to go. What he knows he
will know thoroughly, and he will have acquired a
habit of application and intellectual discernment
which will enable him to acquire and digest other
knowledge with a rapidity and to turn it to account
with an address that must give him an inealculable
advantage over other men, who may be hill of general
information or practical knowledge, but who have not
undergone the discipline of difficulty, of reasoning and
reflection involved in a mastery of the great classical
. . .

writers. The young man who can put into terse,
well-chosen English all the meaning of any passage
of Thucyclides or Tacitus, or who can make a good
at precis of oration of Demosthenes or Cicero, will go
into activ 'fe well prepared to follow any intellectual
pursuit. ese are days in which, it seems to me,
every man who can is bound to be at pains to seek
light from whatever quarter he can in forming his
political opinions. And where will he find more in-
struction whether to warn or to guide, than in the
history of Greece or Rome, and in the recorded con
clusions.of the leading minds of those countries as to
what makes the welfare and prosperity and secures the
stability of a State? We have chosen—whether wisely
or not time will show—to set aside the principle which,
among all civilized States of which we have an au-
thentic record, has been accepted as the only sound
one. Cicero expressed it in ten words, Semper in
republica tenendum est, ne plurimum valeant
plurimi." We have deliberately chosen to place the
preponderance of power in the plurimi, and, it being
there, to recall or to restrict it is impossible. We must,
therefore, make the best of the altered state of things,
trusting to the average good sense and to the patriot-
ism of the mass of the body politic not to use that
power without deliberation or a due regard for the
teaching of history and experience. Be in no haste,
I would say to you, to make up your view on great
political questions. None are more intricate. Think
of the magnitude of the interests involved; think of
the disastrous consequences of any great mistake in
legislation or in policy. A colony lost, the stability
of property shaken, the belief disturbed that
Britain can hold by her strong arm and her wise
administration all that generations of her sons have
won for her. Let any of these things happen,
and who can say how great, how swift may be her
decline? These are the great issues on which poli
tical questions bear. Why, then, should young men,
who may fairly hope hereafter each in his sphere to as-
sist—some, it may be, even to lead—in the formation of
public opinion, fetter their judgment or their independ-
ence by adopting the catchwords of the hour, or by sub-
jecting themselves to the prejudices from which no poli-
tical party can be wholly exemkrt." Again, I venture
to think that to none will classical studies, and those
studies of mental philosophy with which they are
generally combined, be of more advantage than to
those whose lives are to be devoted to the natural
soiences. They will have learnt that there is a large
number of ultimate facts and phenomena in man's
nature, as real and as significant as any of the material
phenomena of the universe. They will know how
thoroughly most of the problems about man, the world
he lives in, his place and duties in it, and his future
have been canvassed and discussed by the wisest heads
of which the world has left any record. They will there-
fore approach their studies with a modest and reverential
spirit, and be less likely to launeh into profitless specu-
lations. Neither, gentlemen, lam sure, will you fail
to join with me in rating highly the advantages of
being trained in youth upon books written in lan-
guages which as vehicles of expression have never
been surpassed—books which Time's severe but kind
hand has winnowed for us from the mass of ephemeral
and commonplace work which was no doubt pro-
duced in abundance, both at Athens and in Rome.
The ancients had a most laudable horror of big
books. Above all, they knew that the man who
studies to condense acquires in the process the sense of
proportion, the art of separating what is essential
from what is accidental—makes, in short, that re-
serve of power to be felt in his work which leaves
upon the reader's mind a delightful impression of
symmetry and finish. But the main thing, after all,
1 is that in youth we "learn to learn," and, having
' done this, that we then find out for ourselves what
interests us most, and what we are therefore likely to
do best. Be modest, but determined • measure your
own power carefully, and even sternly, but resolve
that whatever gift is in you shall, with God's
help, be fully and strenuously worked out. Cultivate
the habits of work. Most men who have gone through
a life crowded with demands upon their capacity for
labour will sal' that it has been their chief enjoyment
—nay their chief blessing—that they have been called
upon to exercise that capacity, and that it has answered
to the call. It is no paradox to say that there is
nothing like work for maintaining the elasticity of
the mind, and preparing it for what we should all
aim at, the carrying on of the spirit of youth, the
freshness of enjoyment, into riper years, and even into
old age. In this great world of moral and material
wonder, where there is so much of beauty, of grandeur,
of mystery, of struggle, of noble effort, of pitiful
failure, of magnificent enterprise, of fascinating dis-
covery—so much to love, so much to admire and to
revere, so much to help forward, so much to fight
against and to subdue—in this world, which we
believe to be but the training-ground of our
souls for noble and higher and less encumbered
work hereafter in this quasi childhood' of our
real lives—why should we not try to keep our
souls as open to new impressions in our riper
years as in the days of our youth? It is,not years
that make age. Frivolous pursuits, base passions un-
subdued, narrow selfishness, vacuity of mind, life
with sordid aims' or without an aim at all—these are
the things that bring age upon the soul. Healthful
tastes, an open eye for what is beautiful and good in
nature and in man, 6, happy remembrance of youthful
pleasures a mind never without some active interest
or pursuit,—these are the things that carry on the
feelings of youth even into the years when the body
may have lost most of its comeliness and its force.
There is so much to be known that do what we will
we shall do little more than learn, at every step
we advance, of how much we are ignorant, and
see dim vistas before us of paths to be explored,
and catch glimpses of fresh fields where know-
ledge is to be reaped. Is there not something deeply
significant, deeply touching, in Goethe's dying words,
"Light, more light ! " As I have read Goethe's
teaching, he included what Matthew Arnold calls
" sweetness" in the "light "—the glow of the heart as
well as the illumination of the brain—which he
craved as needful for rdan's happiness. Let none of
you think that, because your career in life may afford
no wide scope for doing good to your fellow-men, the
principle here indicated does not apply to you. Which
of you can say to what great work he may not some
day be called, or what his power for good over others
may be? But, whatever your sphere of influence, be it
large or be it small, there is sure to be ample scope in
it for unselfishness and for active good—,—for proving
yourselves to be gentle,generous, sympathetic, forbear-
ing, courteous. Determine that such you shall be. Keep
this resolve steadily in view,. and it will "make the
path before you always bright," and keep alive within
you that sacred fire of enthusiasm which, if fostered
and directed to worthy ends in youth, will not burn
itself out, but will prove to be the purifier and sus-
tainer of your riper .age. "Beautiful is young en-
thusiasm," said Thomas Carlyle; "keep it to the end,
and be more and more correct in fixing on the object
of it. It is a terrible thing to be -wrong in that--the
source of all our miseries and confusions whatever."
1 The address was attentively listened to, and fre-
quently elicited outbursts of applause.
to