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'Long before I heard of Freud I was interested in reading accounts of first memories and impressions. My own experience had taught me that the roots of life were there but it was never certain, and that was the adventure, how they would emerge. It was partly because of this belief and partly because of a poem with that title by Robert Browning that I called my first book Development. The two volumes I now discovered were linked to this interest and not only gave me great pleasure but won me lasting friendships. They were A London Child of the Seventies (and its sequels) by Molly V. Hughes and Within the City Wall by Margaret Phillips.'
'If I enjoy a book I often write to its author. It seems to me a matter of politeness between one artist and another. Having read A London Child I wrote to Molly [Hughes] at once. I had been born thirty years later but the Victorians disliked change and our memories touched at many points.'
'We belong to our time and the most we can achieve as a rule is to be a generation ahead of it; if we tear up our roots how many can exist merely on air? Yet if people want to know what life was like for a poor scholar in one of the most opulent centuries England has known, they cannot do better than to study Molly?s [Hughes, A London Child of the Seventies] books. They are a record of an almost hopeless fight against prejudice when there was little chance for a woman, however brilliant her intellect, to get even a reasonably paid job. Today people find the Victorian age picturesque and amusing without understanding its cruelty. If they want a true photograph of part of it, they should consider what Molly had recorded.'