It was not long before the agitation assumed a still more serious form, no fewer than three anonymous letters threatening assassination being received at short intervals by the harassed reformer. The heads of the different postal departments, becoming alarmed for the safety of the permanent chief's life, advised his temporary absence from the Office; and Mr Peacock, its solicitor, who knew that an expert had satisfied himself and others that the handwriting of the first of these letters could be traced to a certain postman who had been giving much trouble of late, proposed immediate arrest and prosecution. But, on comparing the suspected man's actual handwriting with that, disguised though it was, of the anonymous letter, Rowland Hill disagreed with the expert's view, and refused assent to so drastic a proceeding; happily so, for later circumstances seemed to point to justification of the adverse opinion. My father also declined to absent himself from the Office, and even when a fourth letter appeared, in which were mentioned the place, day, and hour when the fatal blow would be struck, he still, as was his custom, walked the last half mile of his way to work, armed only with his umbrella, and on the fateful occasion passed the indicated spot without encountering harm of any kind. Later than this, somehow, word of the anonymous letters reached my mother's ears, though not, of course, through her husband; and thenceforth she made it her daily practice to drive down to the Post Office, and accompany him home. This episode would hardly be worth the telling did it not serve to show how little need there generally is to pay attention to letters, however threatening, when written by persons who dare not reveal their identity. On occasions of this sort memory brings back to mind the story of the brave Frenchman who at the time of the Franco-German war wrote to the then newly-proclaimed German Emperor, William I., at Versailles, to remind him of sundry ugly passages in his life, and to threaten him with condign punishment—the writer being a near neighbour, and appending to his letter his actual name and address. This man at least had the courage of his opinions. The anonymous scribbler is seldom so valorous. In 1858 “The Post Office Library and Literary Association” was established, the institution being aided by the delivery of lectures, an enterprise in which several of the leading officials participated. Mr West gave a fascinating discourse on etymology; and Rowland Hill took his turn by lecturing on the annular eclipse of the sun (“visible at Greenwich”) which happened in that year.[214] In 1859 similar institutions were started at most of the London district offices, and in some provincial towns.