Rev Francis Henry BREWIN [1085]

  General Notes:

Francis Henry Brewin
Baptism Date:4 Jan 1874
Parish:Wrecclesham, St Peter
Father:Arthur Brewin
Mother:Maria Louisa Brewin.
Reference Number:WREC/1/2

Francis was educated at Winchester, and Magdalen College Oxford. One time vicar of Christchurch Brighton, then rector of New St Pauls Woodstock Ontario.

Brewin Francis Henry, born in Isleworth, Middlesex, 26 November, 1873; s Arthur stockbroker. New College, matric 14 October, 1892, aged 18 (from Winchester College); Clerk of Magdalen 1892.
Oxford Men and Their Colleges.

Julius Jottings No 1.
January 1900.
Our Noble Selves
Dear Sir
By the heading of this letter, which I venture to send as a small contribution to the first number of your excellent periodical (I call it excellent for many reasons one of which is that it is a family paper, and so the personality of the contributors guarantees the quality of the paper ; and another reason is, that I think I know something about palmistry', and, therefore, the prophetic spirit is strong in me, and speaks with no uncertain voice in this instance ; another is, that nobody will have the courage to question the objective, and so it is quite safe to use it), I do not refer to those members of the great Julius family, who have, or have had, or will have, their names enrolled in Burke's peerage, but to people like yourself, Mr. Editor, whose claim to be addressed as " noble" rests on no capricious mood of Queen or Government for recognition, but on those sure foundations of recognised worth in family circles. This is rather a long sentence, isn't it ? I do hope it will look nice in print.
Now, Slr, I am convinced that if this paper is to be a success, it must be about "our noble selves." I gather from the circular I received, that it is your intention that the paper shall be a kind of family "Truth," without those parts of that well known journal to which mention might be taken, that is to say, that it shall he a personal paper containing personal news about various members of the family such as the latest bicycling accidents, the latest addition to the ranks of cyclists among our uncles and aunts, the latest juvenile that has last her hair up, the numerous examinations passed. For instance, I am most anxious to know whether certain members of the family are yet fully qualified doctors, and I shall look to your paper to supply me with such information. I am sure that all personal news of this description will he read with much greater interest than any contributions in the shape of poems or stocks, unless these writers convey information to us about themselves under the guise of an exciting tale or soul moving poem. I do not wish to detract from the value of such contributions for a moment, Sir, but I do wish to express an opinion, that the interest taken in the paper will he in proportion to the personal element contained therein. My chief object, therefore, in addressing you, is to try to help to impress on all readers of this Julius Jottings the importance of writing about themselves or of sending information to you, Sir, about their doings or mjsdoings for the edification of the family circle. I propose to give two reasons why they should write about themselves, and then, perhaps, if this letter is not too long, I will set a good example by telling you something about myself.
The first and most important reason that I can give why the Julius family should write about themselves is, that the readers of your journal will be more interested in such information than in anything else. The family is scattered far and wide, but when we do meet each other, what is the subject of our conversation ? Our noble selves. We do not attempt to tell each other interesting tabs, nor do we recite poems, or ask each other riddles. but we enquire after different members of the family, and the more gossip we have to exchange on this supremely interesting topic, the better, pleased we are with each other. " What is so-and-so doing? Is he still at Oxford or one of the hospitals ?" we ask, as the case may he. "Cousin -- has left school and put her hair up. You don't mean to say so? Dear me, how these children grow !" Conversation of this description is not, perhaps, very thrilling, but it is very interesting to ourselves, and this paper, Sir, is for ourselves and about ourselves I believe, and if members of the family send you such information to appear in your paper, it will save such a lot of conversation. I or when we meet, we shall be able at once to attack questions of wider if not of more interest, since the thirst for news of our relations is to be satisfied by your paper. It is possible that some members of the family may feel a certain reluctance in forwarding information about themselves. There is a sense of reserve which makes some people believe that details about themselves cannot be interesting to anyone else. I firmly believe that to be a fallacy, for surely the details make up the interest and the life of everyone and everything. But to meet such cases, would it not be advisable to have a special correspondent for different branches of the family, for choice the lady who presides over the household, whose duty should be to forward to you for each number an account of the doings of that branch of the family ? Isolated members condemned to live in lodgings would have to act as correspondent for themselves, and I am sure that their keen sense of duty would compel them in spite of modesty or natural reserve to speak out about themselves. At any rate, that is how I shall feel about it.
Then another reason is that it not only interests other people to hear about ourselves, but it is also very interesting to ourselves. Every conscientious person must acknowledge that they are very interesting to themselves. That very sense of reserve or modesty mentioned above proves this to be the case. For by withholding little tit-bits of information about themselves, on the ground that no one else could take an interest in the same, they imply that such details are interesting to themselves. And it is a well-known fact that people can write and speak with much greater gusto on subjects which they have at heart than on those in which they take a less keen interest.
Everyone talks about themselves, then why not write about them selves I do not mean to imply by this that the conversation of everyone is confined to the first person ; but that when they lay aside conventional conversation, when the real person speaks frankly and openly they tell us of themselves. They can do this in many ways without thrusting number one into too great prominence. For instance, I have met some good mothers who will talk, and can really talk of little else but their children ; then surely they are talking about themselves. Their children, and the different incidents that befall them, are part of their own lives. I have met some gentlemen whose eloquence pours forth like a mighty flood, whose vivacity is as remarkable as it is unexpected on such subjects as the Hospital or the Parish. And the reason is because they have made their work, whatever it may be part of themselves ; they are really talking about themselves the whole time. And when they tell us of such things, they give us information about themselves, what they really are, what they think, what they do. And if they can talk on such subjects, why not write ?
It is a mistake to imagine that the readers of your paper would not be interested in the routine work, say of a Hospital or a Parish, because they have had no practical experience in those departments of life. I venture to think they will be interested, because they will have that discernment to see that cousin or uncle are telling us about themselves and their daily life in such articles. For instance, Sir, I venture to suggest that an article on " How I do my Housekeeping " by different members of the family would he not only interesting, but would tell us a great deal that we did not know before about the writer. Or " A day in the City " would furnish many of us with information on a subject of which the majority of us know nothing. Think of that, Sir I I know little or nothing of your daily work ; all that part of your life is cut off from me, and my knowledge of you suffers accordingly. This is very sad, much more sad than I thought it was when I started to write about it. To think that a large part of your life cannot be appreciated by such a close relation I Sir, I implore you, I appeal to the wider circle of the family, let us remove these obstacles to a better understanding, and a truer appreciation of each other. To think that I have aunts, a large part of whose life is cut off from my pen, who have even more claims on my affection and esteem than I am yet aware of because I know nothing about their housekeeping !
Oh, Sir, if your paper will only remember a lamentable state of affairs, your readers will have just cause to be grateful to you. And if your contributors will only realise this deplorable ignorance in which we are living, of the lives of our closest relations, surely pity will move them to write of themselves. Let, therefore, " Our Noble Selves " be the main subjects of the Julius Jottings, and I have no hesitation in prophesying an unqualified success for it.
Apologising for the length of this letter,
Believe me, Sir,
Your obedient Servant,
F. H. BREWIN.
PS - I see I half promised to set a good example by writing about myself. Sir, I will try. Let me see. Oh yes, I know I am not so fat as I was!

Julius Jottings No 4 Jan 1901.
Owing to a change of Vicars, the Rev F. H. Brewin is leaving St Peter's, Cranleigh Gardens, South Kensington.

Julius Jottings No 4
Jan 1901
"Two Parishes: A Contrast"
This article is not intended to give any new or startling-information. The two parishes, however, in which it has been my privilege to work form so complete a contrast that it has been thought possible that a brief account of the work in both may be interesting to readers of the' Julius Jottings, especially as their experience, for the greater part, lies in the happy medium, not in the two extremes of the social scale. Perhaps the expression, " the two extremes," needs qualification, for St. Peter's, Cranley Gardens, is not either one of the richest, or most fashionable, congregations in London. It is certainly rich; it is not fashionable in the sense that it has many titled seat holders, nor can we apply the epiphet when we think of such churches, as Holy Trinity, Sloane Street ; Christ Church, Mayfair ; or Lancaster Gate, and like aristocratic congregations.
Let me briefly sum up the outward signs of dissimilarity in the two parishes. The popluation of the one numbered 16,000, in the other, 1,400. In the one there were some of the worst slums in Birmingham, while the gentle folk could be counted on one hand. In the other there are no poor, except the inhabitants of the mews, who are for the most part gentlemen's servants, coachmen, grooms, etc. The average rent of the houses in the parish itself would run from £250 to £500. In the one, the offertories alone, in the year 1898-1899, reached the figure of four thousand one hundred and odd pounds, while there were over 20,000 communions made, the number for Easter being over 1,300. In the other there were, on the average, some fifty to seventy communicants a week, with a grand total of 333 at Easter. The offertories for the year came to £500 or £600, a splendid contribution from a congregation whose richest member's income did not probably exceed £600, and he was an exception.
At St. Peter's, the baptisms average three or four a month at St. Mary's, twenty or thirty. St. Mary's Sunday scholars numbered nearly 1,000, at St. Peter's we have a dear little Sunday 'School with about forty children.
Enough has been said to give a rough idea of the. dissimilarity of the conditions of life in the two parishes. I will now endeavour to give you an idea of how the Church of England tries to carry the " glad news " to souls living under such very different conditions. The most marked characteristic of the Church of England is the system of visiting. We will begin with that. In the Birmingham Parish we used to visit from house to house. In one single street in the district in my charge there were some 50 houses. I never visited right through my district within the two years that I was there, it was almost a physical impossibility. Sometimes for week's every hour available for visiting was employed in visiting only the sick and dying. The most trying cases were the hopeless, painful ones, where death would not come ; where, day by day, one looked with anxiety to see whether the blinds were yet down. After a certain time we visited important cases (I am not now speaking of the sick), and made a point of calling on two or three new houses every day. The Most disheartening feature of the work was the shifting character of the neighbourhood. Fifty per cent of the houses seemed to change hands in the course of a year. As to the work itself, all readers of this magazine are probably familiar with it. At the first call, when, in answer to your knock, the lady of the house appears, you explain who you, are. Generally you are invited to come in ; if not you can but suggest it. You then have to judiciously discover all you can of the number and character of the household. I generally remarked, " How very quiet the house is ! " And then I was told the number of the children. Then it was easy to ask the lady to refresh your memory as to whether they come to the Parish Sunday-school ; you are almost sure that you have seen them there. And if you have been misinformed, and they do not come to your Sunday school, you gently point out to the parents how misguided they are not to send them. Your welcome is usually the same, that is you are courteously tolerated. Sometimes your welcome is very warm. The most cordial reception that I recollect was from one of the chairmen of the Secular Society. He had been longing to see and speak to a parson for seven years, he assured me. We became very good friends, in spite of many heated arguments, and we parted with every expression of goodwill when I came to London. In some cases we were shut out. One old man sharply demanded, " Well, young man, what do you want?" I explained. " No; it's no good you coming here." " Why not? " " Oh, I shan't give you any reasons." " Chapel ? " " Yes, I am." " Radical? ". " Well, now I . . . ," and then on the doorstep we drifted off into politics, until I suggested that it would be more comfortable inside. From Gladstone and Home Rule, we ascended (how I cannot remember) to David and Absalom. He invited me to come again, and then I ventured to point out to him that his welcome was not encouraging. " No ; I was a bit 'arch at first," he owned. In a London West End parish there is very little house-to-house, visiting. For practical purposes the seat-holders of the congregation form the parish. Calling in this case is often very formidable. You must first get your cards. If you are wise you will have the name of your church, as well as your private, address, printed in the corner, then there will be no mistake as to your identity in the minds of the visited. In answer to your ring (in Birmingham we had no bells) a maid or manservant appears, and you ask if the lady of the house (you have learnt her name previously) is " at home." If she is not, you give a sigh of relief, leave two cards, and inquire which is her " at home " day. If she is in, you send up your card and ask if she would care to see you. Personally, I have not met with a single rebuff or snub ; but even that experience does not prevent one from feeling a perfect fool while waiting in the hall to hear whether the lady would care to see you.
The usual greeting is,. " How good of you to come and see me" ! Then the atmosphere tells you whether it is advisable to call again or not. The visit may or may not be purely social. If religious topics are touched on, they generally deal with parochial matters, ritualism, or the higher criticism. You may have to fight battles for foreign missions, or the temperance societies, neither of which are over popular. Visiting the upper classes is, I believe, a far more important. work than even visiting the poor ; and for this reason, with the poor, you can, as a rule, come to the point very quickly ; they take it for granted that you have came for that purpose. The rich must know their visitor personally and thoroughly before they will attempt to show their difficulties or troubles. This fact makes dining out and other social duties a very real part of your pastoral work ; it is an essential preliminary, mereover it is the only opportunity of meeting the men. There are many opportunities of calling. The really keen man will call on his workers, on the parents of his Bible-class children, on the mistresses of the Servants Ward of the Communicant Guild. His visiting list can very soon become an overwhelming one if he wishes. Next to visiting, in importance, I should be inclined to place teaching. In Birmingham we had very successful voluntary schools. The clergy took classes in Scripture, varying in size from forty to sixty children, four days a week. The work had to be well done, or else the inspector would make remarks, which would cost money. You were told what to teach. Discipline was easy, for you always had the headmaster, with his persuasive cane, to appeal to, if necessary. The value of coming in contact with the children in this. way is incalculable. They are thoroughly taught, and the extent of their knowledge is alarming. In the upper classes the same work is done by means of Bible classes ; Bible classes for children of twelve and under ; for those over twelve; for servants, for choir boys, for young men, for mothers. The Bible class for the children of twelve and under has fallen to the writer's lot. No, we do not have " treats," but the curate. invites them to tea, with extraordinary success. The upper classes are certainly susceptible to the bribery of teas and buns. Witness this: The class at first numbered sixteen ; when it reached twenty-one, they were all asked to tea; nineteen came. The class now numbers forty-three. The children take away four questions, which they bring back answered in copy books. During the class they stand, and questions are asked round, and places are taken. The joy when a younger brother or sister goes above an older member of the family is something to live for. If they are ill, they are visited, and a card " with kind inquiries " is left. On their birthdays they receive some mark to remind them that the day is known and remembered. The Bible class brings a host of little friends. It is a great ,joy to have a shy youngster waiting behind at the class, and to hear a shy whisper, " Please, mother is coming to nursery tea on Sunday, and will you come too? " I ought to have said that St. Peter's has a large mission district in one of the poorest parts of Chelsea. There the work is ,just the same as in any other poor parish, except, perhaps, that it is more pauperised and visited than most.
The organisation in both parishes is much the same. Both have guilds of many descriptions. To sum up. In a parish like St. Peter's, we have more organisation, more services, more classes, more preaching. In Birnaingham visiting and teaching and personal contact were the most important elements of the work. The latter gave one unlimited scope for direct pastoral work. In the former there is, for a junior curate, little direct pastoral work, but unlimited opportunities for carrying the same message indirectly through many channels. It is this which makes work in a wealthy parish a strain on the character. The work is so indirect that one is liable to forget the ultimate aim and object. Then the secular spirit creeps in, and your work purely as a clergyman dies. The West End needs such Spiritual men as the Vicar I have had the pleasure to serve with men who can retain that essential characteristic under circumstances insidiously hostile to the spiritual frame of mind. The West End undermines the spiritual side; the slum braces it up by constant and open opposition. For both devotion and self-sarifice are essential ; but, when all is said and done; the writer is convinced that the greatest dangers to the character of the worker are to be found in a well-to-do parish.
F H BREWIN..

Julius Jottings No 5
Jun 1901.
The Rev F. H. Brewin accepted a curacy at the Parish Church Hove, last January; his address is 4, Seafield Road. The vicar of the parish Canon Peacey, hopes to open the magnificent new church in time for the Church Congress this year, which is to be held at Brighton.

Julius Jottings. No 7
April 1902.
The Rev F. H. Brewin, Curate at the Parish Church, Hove, starts on May 19th for his holiday to Ottawa, to bring home his bride.

Francis Henry Brewin
Gender:Male
Estimated birth year:abt 1874
Birth Place:England
Age:50
Date of Arrival:29 1924
Port of Arrival:Quebec
Ship Name:Caronia

David Brewin in 2023 advises that Francis Henry settled in Ontario in 1911.

He is recorded crossing to England from Montreal in 1927 and 1931, he is described as a Clergyman.

  Other Records

1. Census: England, 3 Apr 1881, 78 Church Rd Richmond SRY. Francis is recorded as a son aged 7 scholar born Richmond

2. Census: England, 5 Apr 1891, 19 Strawberry Hill Rd Twickenham MDX. Francis is recorded as a son aged 17 a scholar born Isleworth MDX

3. Freedom of City of London: Dyers Company, 5 Dec 1894.

4. Census: England, 1911, Hove Sussex.
Francis is recorded as head of house married aged 37 a Clerk in Holy Orders incumbent of Christ Church Brighton born Isleworth MDX

Francis married Amea Fenerly BLAIR [1086] [MRIN: 343], daughter of Hon Andrew George BLAIR [1098] and Annie Elizabeth THOMPSON [24256], on 4 Jun 1902 in Carleton Ontario CAN. (Amea Fenerly BLAIR [1086] was born on 18 Aug 1874 in Frederickton New Brunswick CAN and died on 10 Jul 1944 at Cottage Stoney Lake Peterboro Burleigh ONT CAN.)

Francis next married Frances DUMOULIN [18912] [MRIN: 6801] on 3 Apr 1945. (Frances DUMOULIN [18912] was born on 30 May 1876.)