MEMOIR. 



obliged him to discontinue this office. For eleven years he 

 played the organ on Sunday afternoons for a service for 

 young men and maidens, few of whom can forget the 

 extraordinary life and pathos that he was wont by some 

 magic to put into his accompaniment to their singing. 



This present year, 1891, opened full of promise for 

 John Sedding. In a marvellously short time he had come 

 hand over hand into public notice and public esteem, as a 

 man from whom excellent things were to be expected, 

 things interesting, original, and beautiful. Mr. Burne Jones 

 writes: "My information about Sedding's work is very 

 slight, my interest in him very great, and my admiration 

 too, from the little I had seen. I know only the church in 

 Sloane Street, but that was enough to fill me with the 

 greatest hope about him . , . I saw him in all some 

 half-dozen times liked him instantly, and felt I knew 

 him intimately, and was looking forward to perhaps years 

 of collaboration with him." 



Work brought work, as each thing he did revealed, to 

 those who had eyes to see, the gift that was in him. At 

 Art Congresses and all assemblies of Art Workers his 

 co-operation was sought and his presence looked for, 

 especially by the younger men, who hailed him and his 

 words with enthusiasm. To these gatherings he brought 

 something more and better than the sententious wisdom, 

 the chill repression which many feel called upon to ad- 

 minister on the ground of their experience. Experience 

 " cette pauvre petite cabane construite avec les debris cle 

 ces palais d'or, et de marbre appeles nos illusions." He 

 put something of the fire that was in him into the hearts 

 that heard him, he made them proud of their cause and of 

 their place in it, and hopeful for its triumph and their own 

 success. It was a contribution of sunshine and fresh air, 

 and all that is the complete opposite of routine, red-tape, 

 and the conventional. 



