of education were achieving a much needed transformation. They were not unique in this enterprise: in the U.S.A. under different circumstances analogous groups were solving analogous problems. It is not too much to say that this novel adaptation of education is one of the factors which may save civilization. The nearest analogy is that of the monasteries a thousand years earlier.
The point of these personal reminiscences is the way in which latent capabilities have been elicited by favourable circumstances of my life. It is impossible for me to judge of any permanent value in the output. But I am aware of the love, and kindness, and encouragement by which it was developed.
To turn now to another side of life, during my later years at Cambridge, there was considerable political and academic controversy in which I participated. The great question of the emancipation of women suddenly flared up, after simmering for half a century. I was a member of the University Syndicate which repotted in favour of equality of status in the University. We were defeated, after stormy discussions and riotous behaviour on the part of students. If my memory is correct, the date was about 1898. But later on, until the war in 1914, there were stormy episodes in London and elsewhere. The division of opinion cut across party lines; for example, the Conservative Balfour was pro-woman, and the Liberal Asquith was against. The success of the movement came at the end of the war in 1918.
My political opinions were, and are, on the Liberal side, as against the Conservatives. I am now writing in terms of English party divisions. The Liberal Party has now (1941) practically vanished; and in England my vote would be given for the moderate side of the Labour Party. However at present there are no “parties” in England.
During our residence at Grantchester, I did a considerable amount of political speaking in Grantchester and in the country villages of the district. The meetings were in the parish schoolrooms, during the evening. It was exciting work, as the whole village attended and expressed itself vigorously. English villages have no use for regular party agents. They require local residents to address them. I always found that a party agent was a nuisance. Rotten eggs and oranges were effective party weapons, and I have often been covered by them. But they were indications of vigour, rather than of bad feeling. Our worst experience was at a meeting in the Guildhall at Cambridge, addressed by Keir Hardie who was then the leading member of the new Labour Party. My wife and I were on the platform, sitting behind him, and there was a riotous undergraduate audience. The result was that any rotten oranges that missed Keir Hardie had a good chance of hitting one of us. When we lived in London my activities were wholly educational.
My philosophic writings started in London, at the latter end of the war. The London Aristotelian Society was a pleasant centre of discussion, and close friendships were formed.
