have lost their force, and are best met with a laugh at the stupendous ’male self-conceit’ of the writer.  I may add that such shafts are specially pointless against myself.  A woman who thought her way out of Christianity and Whiggism into Freethought and Radicalism absolutely alone; who gave up every old friend, male and female, rather than resign the beliefs she had struggled to in solitude; who, again, in embracing active Socialism, has run counter to the views of her nearest ‘male friends’; such a woman may very likely go wrong, but I think she may venture, without conceit, to at least claim independence of judgment.  I did not make the acquaintance of one of my present Socialist comrades, male or female, until I had embraced Socialism.”  A foolish paragraph, as are all self-defences, and a mischievous one, as all retort breeds fresh strife.  But not yet had come the self-control that estimates the judgments of others at their true value, that recks not of praise and blame; not yet had I learned that evil should not be met with evil, wrath with wrath; not yet were the words of the Buddha the law to which I strove to render obedience:  “Hatred ceases not by hatred at any time; hatred ceases by love.”  The year 1886 was a terrible one for labour, everywhere reductions of wages, everywhere increase of the numbers of the unemployed; turning over the pages of Our Corner, I see “Socialist Notes” filled, month after month, with a monotonous tale, “there is a reduction of wages at” such and such a place; so many “men have been discharged at -----, owing to the slackness of trade.”  Our hearts sank lower and lower as summer passed into autumn, and the coming winter threatened to add to starvation the bitter pains of cold.  The agitation for the eight hours’ day increased in strength as the unemployed grew more numerous week by week “We can’t stand it,” a sturdy, quiet fellow had said to me during the preceding winter; “flesh and blood can’t stand it, and two months of this bitter cold, too.”  “We may as well starve idle as starve working,” had said another, with a fierce laugh.  And a spirit of sullen discontent was spreading everywhere, discontent that was wholly justified by facts.  But ah! how patient they were for the most part, how sadly, pathetically patient, this crucified Christ, Humanity; wrongs that would set my heart and my tongue afire would be accepted as a matter of course.  O blind and mighty people, how my heart went out to you; trampled on, abused, derided, asking so little and needing so much; so pathetically grateful for the pettiest services; so loving and so loyal to those who offered you but their poor services and helpless love.  Deeper and deeper into my innermost nature ate the growing desire to succour, to suffer for, to save.  I had long given up my social reputation, I now gave up with ever-increasing surrender ease, comfort, time; the passion of pity grew stronger and stronger, fed by each new sacrifice, and each sacrifice led me nearer and nearer to the threshold of that gateway beyond which stretched a path of renunciation I had never dreamed of, which those might tread who were ready wholly to strip off self for Man’s sake, who for Love’s sake would surrender Love’s return from those they served, and would go out into the darkness for themselves that they might, with their own souls as fuel, feed the Light of the World.