{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_36796/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_36796","id":"gutenberg_36796","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36796","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Politics","Holyoake, George Jacob, 1817-1906","Social reformers -- Great Britain -- Biography","Working class -- Great Britain -- Biography"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by David Widger\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBYGONES WORTH REMEMBERING\n\nBy George Jacob Holyoake\n\n\"Look backward only to correct an error of conduct for the next attempt\"\n\n      George Meredith\n\nVolume II\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV. CONVERSATIONS WITH MR. GLADSTONE\n\nWere I to edit a new journal again I should call it _Open Thought_. I\nknow no characteristic of man so wise, so useful, so full of promise\nof progress as this. The great volume of Nature, of Man and of Society\nopens a new page every day, and Mr. Gladstone read it. It was this which\ngave him that richness of information in which he excited the admiration\nof all who conversed with him.\n\nWere Plutarch at hand to write Historical Parallels of famous men of our\ntime, he might compare Voltaire and Gladstone. Dissimilar as they were\nin nature, their points of resemblance were notable. Voltaire was\nthe most conspicuous man in Europe in the eighteenth century, as Mr.\nGladstone became in the nineteenth. Both were men of wide knowledge\nbeyond all their contemporaries. Each wrote more letters than any other\nman was ever known to write. Every Court in Europe was concerned\nabout the movements of each, in his day. Both were deliverers of the\noppressed, where no one else moved on their behalf. Both attained great\nage, and were ceaselessly active to the last In decision of conviction\nthey were also alike. Voltaire was as determinedly Theistic as Mr.\nGladstone was Christian. They were alike also in the risks they\nundertook in defence of the right. Voltaire risked his life and\nGladstone his reputation to save others. Mr. Morley relates of the\nPhilosopher of Ferney, that when he made his triumphal journey through\nParis, some one asked a woman in the street \"why do so many people\nfollow this man?\" \"Don't you know?\" was the reply. \"He was the deliverer\nof the Calas.\" No applause went to Voltaire's heart like that Mr.\nGladstone had also golden memories of deliverance no one else moved hand\nor foot to effect, and multitudes, even nations, followed him because of\nthat.\n\nOn the first occasion of my going to breakfast with him he was living\nin Harley Street, in the house in which Sir Charles Lyell died. As Mr.\nGladstone entered the room, he apologised for not greeting me earlier,\nas his servant had indistinctly given him my name. He asked me to sit\nnext to him at breakfast. There were seven or eight guests. The only one\nI knew was Mr. Walter. H. James, M.P., since Lord Northbourne--probably\npresent from consideration for me. One was the editor of the _Jewish\nWorld_ a journal opposed to Mr. Gladstone's anti-Turkish policy. Others\nwere military officers and travellers of contemporary renown. It was\na breakfast to remember--Mr. Gladstone displayed such a bright,\nunembarrassed vivacity. He told amusing anecdotes of the experiences of\nthe wife of the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, whose charm he said he could\nonly describe by the use of the English rural term \"buxom.\" On making a\ntime-bargain with a cabman, he observed to her ladyship that \"he wished\nthe engagement was for life.\" Mr. Gladstone thought no English cabman\nwould have said that. Another pleasantry was of one of Lord Lyttelton's\nsons, who was very tall and lank. He being in Birmingham and wishful to\nknow the distance to a place he sought, asked a boy in the street who\nwas passing, \"how far it was.\" \"Oh, not far,\" was the assuring but\nindefinite answer. \"But can you not give me some better idea of the\ndistance?\" Mr. Lyttelton inquired. \"Well, sir,\" said the lad, looking up\nat the obelisk-like interrogator before him, \"if you was to fall down,\nyou would be half way there.\"\n\nThese incidents were not new to me, but I was glad to hear what was\nprobably the origin of them. From Mr. Gladstone's lips they had a sort\nof historic reality which was interesting to me.\n\nAfterwards he spoke of the singular beauty of the \"Dream of Gerontius\"\nby Cardinal Newman, and turning to me asked if I knew of it, as though\nhe thought it unlikely my reading lay in that direction. He was very\nmuch surprised when I said I had read it with great admiration. He said\nit was strange, as he had mentioned the poem at three or four breakfast\ntables, without finding any one who knew it.\n\nAs I left, Mr. Gladstone accompanied me downstairs. On the way I\ntook occasion to thank him for a paper that had appeared in the\n_Contemporary_ containing definitions of heretical forms of thought, so\nfair and accurate and actual, that Shakespeare or Bunyan, who had the\npower of possessing himself of the minds of those whose thoughts he\nexpressed, might have produced. There had been nothing to compare with\nit in my time. Theological writers described heterodox tenets from their\ninferences of what they must be--never inquiring what they actually\nstood for in the minds of those who held them--whereas he had written\nwith unimputative knowledge. Stopping on the first platform of the\nstairway we reached, he paused, and (holding the lapel of his coat with\nhis hand, as I had seen him do in the House of Commons) he said he\nwas glad I was able to think so, \"for that is the quality in which you\nyourself excel.\" This amazed me, as I never imagined that he had ever\ntaken notice of speeches or writings of mine, or formed any opinion upon\nthem. Nor was he the man to say what I cite from mere courtesy.\n\nThe second time I breakfasted in Harley Street was in the days of the\nEastern question. Mr. John Morley was one of the party. Mr. Gladstone\nhad again the same disengaged manner. Before his guests broke up he\nentered the room, bearing on his arm a pile of letters and telegrams,\nand apologised for leaving us as he had to attend to them. That morning\nMr. Bright came in, and seeing me, said, \"Poor Acland is dead. Of course\nthere was nothing in the house, and a few of us had to subscribe to bury\nhim.\" James Acland was the rider on a white horse who preceded Cobden\nand Bright the day before their arrival to address the farmers on the\nanti-Corn Law tour in the counties. Mr. Gladstone's grand-daughter was\nto have arrived at Harley Street that morning, but her nurse missed the\ntrain. When she appeared, Bright, who had suggested dolorous adventures\nto account for her non-appearance, proposed, when the child was\nannounced to be upstairs, that a charge of sixpence should be made for\neach person going to see her.\n\nThat morning one of the guests, who was an actor, maintained that it was\nnot necessary that an actor should feel his part. Mr. Gladstone, to whom\nconviction was his inspiration--who never spoke without believing what\nhe said--dissented from the actor's theory, as I had done.\n\nTowards the end of his life, I saw Mr. Gladstone twice at the Lion\nMansion in Brighton. On one occasion he said, after speaking of Cardinal\nNewman and his brother Francis, \"I remember Dr. Martineau telling me\nthat there was a third brother, a man also of remarkable power, but he\nwas touched somewhere here,\" putting his finger to his forehead. \"Do you\nknow whether it was so? It is so long since Dr. Martineau named it to\nme, and my impression may be wrong.\" I answered, \"It was true. At one\ntime I had correspondence with Charles Newman. He would say at times,\n'My mind is going from me for a time. Do not expect to hear from me\nuntil my mind returns.' In power of reasoning, he was, when he did\nreason, distinguished for boldness and vigour.\" Mr. Gladstone said,\n\"When you write again to his brother Francis, convey to him for me the\nassurance of my esteem. I am glad you believe that the cessation in his\ncorrespondence was not occasioned by anything on my part or any change\nof feeling on his. I must have been mistaken if I ever described Mr.\nFrancis Newman as 'a man of considerable talent.' He was much more than\nthat. His powers of mind may be said to amount to genius.\"\n\nMr. Gladstone asked what I would advise as a rule of policy as to the\nAnarchists who threw the bombs in the French Chambers. I answered,\n\"There were serious men who came to have Anarchical views from despair\nof the improvement of society. There were also foolish Anarchists who\nthink they can put the world to rights, had they a clear field before\nthem. There are also a class who are quite persuaded that by killing\npeople who have nothing to do with the evils they complain of, they will\nintimidate those who have. They take destruction to be a mode of\nprogress. These persons are as mad as they are made, and you cannot\nlegislate against insanity.\"\n\nI mentioned the case of a Nonconformist minister, who was so incensed by\nthe injustice done to Mr. Bradlaugh that he took a revolver, loaded, to\nPalace Yard, intending to shoot the policemen who maltreated him. But\nthe member for Northampton was altogether against such proceedings. The\ndetermined rectifier of wrong in question had a project of throwing\na bomb from the gallery on to the floor of the House. I had great\ndifficulty in dissuading him from this frightful act. He was no coward,\nand was quite prepared to sacrifice his own life. To those ebullitions\nof vengeance society in every age has been subject, and its best\nprotection lies in intrepid disdain and cool precaution. The affair of\nPhoenix Park showed that the English nation did not go mad in the face\nof desperate outrage. However, Mr. Gladstone himself gave the best\nanswer to his inquiry. He said, \"The Spanish Government had solicited\nhim to join in a federation against Anarchists. But how could we do\nthat? We cannot tell what other Governments may do, and we should be\nheld responsible for their acts which we might deplore.\"\n\nHe added, \"It fills me with surprise, not to say disgust, to see it said\nat times in Liberal papers that the Tories of to-day are superior\nto their class formerly. Sir Robert Peel was a man of high honour,\npatriotism, and self-respect He would never have joined in nor\ncountenanced the treatment to which Mr. Bradlaugh was subjected. I never\nknew the Tories do a meaner thing. Nothing could have induced Sir Robert\nPeel to consent to that.\"\n\nOn one occasion, after reference to out-of-the-way persons of whom I\nhappened to have some knowledge, Mr. Gladstone said, \"I have known many\nremarkable men. My position has brought me in contact with numbers of\npersons.\" Indeed, it seemed when talking to him that you were talking\nto mankind, so diversified and plentiful were the persons living in his\nmemory, and who, as it were, stepped out in his conversation before you.\nThe individuality, the environment of persons, all came into light.\nHis conversation was like an oration in miniature. Its exactness, its\nmodulation, its force of expression, its foreseeingness of all the\nissues of ideas, came at will. I never listened to conversation so easy,\nso natural, so precise, so full of colour and truth, spoken with such\nspontaneity and force.\n\nMr. Morley, in his \"Life of Gladstone,\" cites a letter he sent to me\nin 1875: \"Differing from you, I do not believe that secular motives are\nadequate either to propel or restrain the children of our race, but I\nearnestly desire to hear the other side, and I appreciate the advantage\nof having it stated by sincere and high-minded men.\" This shows his\nbrave open-mindedness.\n\nA few years later it came into my mind that my expressions of respect\nfor persons whose Christian belief arose from honest conviction, and was\nassociated with efforts for the improvement of the material condition of\nthe people, might lead him to suppose that I myself inclined to belief\nin Christian tenets of faith. I therefore sent him my new book on\n\"The Origin and Nature of Secularism: Showing that where Free Thought\ncommonly ends Secularism begins\"--saying that as I had the honour of his\ncorrespondence, I ought not to leave him unaware of the nature of my own\nopinions. He answered that he thought my motive a right one in sending\nthe book to him, and that he had read a considerable part with general\nconcurrence, though, in other parts, the views expressed were painful to\nhim. But this made no difference in his friendship, which continued to\nthe end of his days.\n\nAn unknown aphorist of 1750, whom Mr. Bertram Dobell quotes, exclaims:\n\"Freethinker! What a term of honour; or, if you will, dishonour; but\nwhere is he who can claim it?\" Mr. Gladstone might claim it beyond any\nother eminent Christian I have known. It was he who, at the opening of\nthe Liverpool College some years ago, warned the clergy that \"they could\nno longer defend their tenets by railing or reticence\"--a shaft that\nwent through the soul of that policy of silence and defamation pursued\nby them for half a century. Mr. Gladstone was the first to see it must\nbe abandoned.\n\nIt is Diderot who relates that one who was searching for a path through\na dark forest by the light of a taper, met a man who said to him,\n\"Friend, if thou wouldst find thy way here, blow out thy light.\" The\ntaper was Reason, and the man who said blow it out was a priest Mr.\nGladstone would have said, \"Take care of that taper, friend; and if you\ncan convert it into a torch do so, for you will need it to see your way\nthrough the darkness of human life.\"\n\nAt our last interview he said, \"You and I are growing old. The day is\nnearing when we shall enter----\" Here he paused, as though he was going\nto say another life, but not wishing to say what I might not concur in,\nin his sense, he--before his pause was well noticeable--added, \"enter\na changed state.\" What my views were he knew, as I had told him in a\nletter: \"I hope there is a future life, and, if so, my not being sure of\nit will not prevent it, and I know of no better way of deserving it than\nby conscious service of humanity. The universe never filled me with\nsuch wonder and awe as when I knew I could not account for it. I admit\nignorance is a privation. But to submit not to know, where knowledge\nis withheld, seems but one of the sacrifices that reverence for truth\nimposes on us.\"\n\nI had reason to acknowledge his noble personal courtesy, notwithstanding\nconvictions of mine he must think seriously erroneous, upon which, as I\ntold him, \"I did not keep silence.\"\n\nHe had the fine spirit of the Abbe Lamennais, who, writing of a book of\nmark depicting the \"passive\" Christian, said: \"The active Christian who\nis ceaselessly fighting the enemies of humanity, without omitting\nto pardon and love them--of this type of Christian I find no trace\nwhatever.\" Mr. Gladstone was of that type. It was his distinction that\nhe applied this affectionate tolerance not only to the \"enemies of\nhumanity,\" but to the dissentients from the faith he loved so well.\n\nAt our last meeting in Brighton he asked my address, and said he would\ncall upon me. He wished me to know Lord Acton, whom he would ask to see\nme. An official engagement compelled Lord Acton to defer his visit, of\nwhich Mr. Gladstone sent me notice. It was a great loss not to converse\nwith one who knew so much as Lord Acton did.\n\nMr. Gladstone knew early what many do not know yet, that courtesy and\neven honour to adversaries do not imply coincidence in opinion. As I was\nfor the right of free thought, I regarded all manifestations of it with\ninterest, whether coinciding with or opposing views I hold. Shortly\nbefore his death I wrote to him, when Miss Helen Gladstone sent me word,\n\"To-day I read to my father your letter, by which he was much touched\nand pleased, and he desired me to send you his best thanks.\" I shall\nalways be proud to think that any words of mine gave even momentary\npleasure to one who has given delight to millions, and will be an\ninspiration to millions more.\n\nIn former times, when an eminent woman contributed to the distinction\nof her consort, he alone received the applause. In these more\ndiscriminating days, when the noble companionship of a wife has made her\nhusband's eminence possible, honour is due to her also. Therefore, on\ndrawing the resolution of condolence to Mrs. Gladstone, adopted at the\nPeterborough Co-operative Congress, we made the acknowledgment how much\nwas due to the wife as well as the husband. I believe no resolution sent\nto her, but ours, did this. Sympathy is not enough where honour is due.\nIn the splendid winter of Mr. Gladstone's days there was no ice in his\nheart Like the light that ever glowed in the temple of Montezuma the\ngenerous fire of his enthusiasm never went out. The nation mourned his\nloss with a pomp of sorrow more deep and universal than ever exalted the\nmemory of a king.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV. HERBERT SPENCER, THE THINKER\n\nA star of the first magnitude went out of the firmament of original\nthought by the death of Herbert Spencer. His was the most distinctive\npersonality that remained with us after the death of Mr. Gladstone.\nSpencer was as great in the kingdom of science as Mr. Gladstone was in\nthat of politics and ecclesiasticism. Men have to go back to Aristotle\nto find Spencer's compeer in range of thought, and to Gibbon for a\nparallel to his protracted persistence in accomplishing his great design\nof creating a philosophy of evolution. Mr. Spencer's distinction was\nthat he laid down new landmarks of evolutionary guidance in all the\ndominions of human knowledge. Gibbon lived to relinquish his pen in\ntriumph at the end of years of devotion to his \"History of the Decline\nand Fall of the Roman Empire \"--Mr. Spencer planned the history of the\nrise and growth of a mightier, a more magnificent, and more beneficent\nEmpire--that of Universal Law--and for forty years he pursued his mighty\nstory in every vicissitude of strength with unfaltering purpose, and\nlived to complete it amid the applause of the world and the gratitude\nof all who have the grand passion to understand Nature, and advance the\nlofty destiny of humanity.\n\nHerbert Spencer was born April 27, 1820, in the town of Derby, and died\nin his eighty-fourth year, December 8, 1903, at 5, Percival Terrace,\nBrighton, next door to his friend, Sir James Knowles, the editor of the\n_Nineteenth Century_. At the time of his birth, Derby was emerging from\nthe sleepy, dreamy, stagnant, obfuscated condition in which it had lain\nsince the days of the Romans.\n\nIt is difficult to write of Spencer without wondering how a thinker\nof his quality should have been born in Derby--a town which had a\ndetermined objection to individuality in ideas. It has a Charter--its\nfirst act of enterprise in a thousand years--obtained by the\nsolicitations of the inhabitants from Richard I., which gave them the\npower of expelling every Jew who resided in the town, or ever after\nshould approach it. Centuries later, in the reigns of Queen Anne\nand George I., not a Roman Catholic, an Independent, a Baptist, an\nIsraelite, nor even an un-molesting Quaker could be found in Derby.\n\nThere still remains one lineal descendant of the stagnant race which\nprocured the Charter of Darkness from Richard I.--Mr. Alderman W.\nWinter, who opposed in the Town Council a resolution of honour in memory\nof Spencer, who had given Derby its great distinction, because his views\ncontradicted the antediluvian Scriptural account of the Creation, when\nthere was no man present to observe what took place, and no man of\nscience existed capable of verifying the Mosaic tradition. The only\nrecorded instance of independency of opinion was that of a humble Derby\ngirl, who was born blind, yet could see, like others, into the nature\nof things. She doubted the Real Presence. What could it matter what the\npoor, helpless thing thought of that? But the town burned her alive. The\nbrave, unchanging girl, whose convictions were torment-proof, was only\ntwenty-two years old.\n\nThe only Derby man of free thought who preceded Herbert Spencer was\nWilliam Hutton, a silk weaver, who became the historian of Derby and\nBirmingham. In sagacity, boldness and veracity he excelled. The wisdom\nof his opinions was a century in advance of his time (1770-1830).\n\nThere were no photographs in the time of Mr. Spencer's parents, and\ntheir lineaments are little known. Mr. Spencer's uncle I knew, the Rev.\nThomas Spencer, a clergyman of middle stature, slender, with a paternal\nEvangelical expression. But his sympathies were with Social Reform, in\nwhich field he was an insurgent worker for projects then unregarded or\nderided.\n\nWhen I first knew Mr. Herbert Spencer, he was one of the writers on\nthe _Leader_ newspaper. We dined at times at the Whittington Club, then\nrecently founded by Douglas Jerrold. At this period Mr. Spencer had a\nhalf-rustic look. He was ruddy, and gave the impression of being a\nyoung country gentleman of the sporting farmer type, looking as unlike\na philosopher as Thomas Henry Buckle looked like a historian, as he\nappeared to me on my first interview with him. Mr. Spencer at that time\nwould take part in discussions in a determined tone, and was persistent\nin definite statement In that he resembled William Chambers, with whom\nI was present at a deputation to Lord Derby on the question of the Paper\nDuty. Lord Derby could not bow him out, nor bow him into silence, until\nhe had stated his case.\n\nIn those days Mr. Spencer spoke with misgivings of his health. Mr.\nEdward Pigott, chief proprietor of the _Leader_ (afterwards Public\nExaminer of Plays) asked me to try to disabuse Mr. Spencer of his\napprehensiveness, which was constitutional and never left his mind all\nhis life, and I learned never to greet him in terms which implied that\nhe was, or could be well. Coleridge complained of ailments of which no\nphysical sign was apparent, and he was thought, like Mr. Spencer, to be\nan imaginary invalid. But after his death Coleridge was found to have\na real cause of suffering, and the wonder was that he did not complain\nmore.\n\nThere must be a distinct susceptibility of the nerves--which Sir Michael\nFoster could explain--peculiar to some persons. I have had two or three\nfriends of some literary distinction, whom I made it a rule never to\naccost, or even to know when I met them, until they had recovered from\nthe inevitable shock of meeting some unexpected person, when they would\nspontaneously become genial.\n\nMr. Spencer's high spirit was shown in this. Though he often had to\nabandon his thinking, he resumed it on his recovery. The continuity of\nhis thought never ceased. One form of trouble was recurring depression,\nso difficult to sustain, which James Thompson, who oft experienced it,\ndescribed--when a man has to endure--\n\n     \"The same old solid hills and leas;\n     The same old stupid, patient trees;\n     The same old ocean, blue and green;\n     The same sky, cloudy or serene;\n     The old two dozen hours to run\n     Between the settings of the sun.\"\n\nMr. Spencer was first known to London thinkers by being found the\nassociate of economists like Bagot; philosophers with a turn for\nenterprise in the kingdom of speculation--as George Henry Lewes, Darwin,\nHuxley, Tyndall; and of great novelists like George Eliot. In those\ndays the house of John Chapman, the publisher, was the meeting ground\nof French, Italian, German and other Continental thinkers. There, also,\ncongregated illustrious Americans like Ralph Waldo Emerson, and other\nunlicensed explorers in the new world of thought. There Mr. Spencer\nbecame known to men of mark in America, who made his fame before his\ncountrymen recognised him. If it was England who \"raised\" Mr. Spencer,\nit was America that discovered him. Mr. George lies, a distinguished\nAmerican friend of Mr. Spencer, sends me information of the validity\nof American admiration of him, on the authority of the _Daily Witness_:\n\"Mr. Spencer's income is mainly drawn from the sale of his books in\nAmerica, his copyrights there having yielded him 4,730 dollars in the\nlast six months. A firm of publishers have paid in the last six months\nroyalties amounting nearly to ten thousand dollars to Mr. Herbert\nSpencer and the heirs or executors of Darwin, Huxley and Tyndall. The\nsales of Spencer's and Darwin's books lead those of Huxley and Tyndall.\"\n\nDuring the earlier publication of his famous volumes, his expenditure\nin printing and in employing assistants in gathering facts for his\narguments, exhausted all his means. Lord Stanley, of that day, was\nunderstood to have offered him an appointment, which included leisure\nfor his investigations. But he declined the thoughtful offer, deeming\nthe office to be of the nature of a sinecure. Wordsworth accepted such\nan appointment, and repaid the State in song, as Spencer would have\nrepaid it in philosophy.\n\nI had the honour to be Mr. Spencer's outdoor friend. He asked me to make\nknown the publication of his work to persons whom I knew to be friendly\nto enterprise in thought. For years I assiduously sought to be of\nservice in this way.\n\nOne day in 1885, being the guest, in Preston, of the Rev. William\nSharman, he showed me a passage in one of Mr. Spencer's volumes,\npublished in 1874, which I had not seen, and which surprised me much,\nin which it appeared Secularists were below Christians in their sense of\nfiduciary integrity. Mr. Sharman said, \"Defective as we are supposed to\nbe, you will see that Secularists are one degree lower in morality than\nthe clergy.\" Mr. Spencer had given instances which, in his opinion,\n\"showed that the cultivation of the intellect does not advance\nmorality.\" If that were so, it would follow that it was better to remain\nignorant--if ignorance better develops the ethical sense. The instance\nMr. Spencer gives occurs in the \"Study of Sociology\" (pp. 418-19),\n\"Written to show how little operative on conduct is mere teaching. Let\nme give, says Mr. Spencer, a striking fact falling under my observation:\n\n\"Some twelve years ago was commenced a serial publication, limited in\nits circulation to the well educated. It was issued to subscribers,\nfrom each of whom was due a small sum for every four numbers. The\nnotification periodically made of another subscription due received from\nsome prompt attention, from others an attention less tardy than before,\nand from others no attention at all. After a lapse of ten years, a\ndigest was made of the original list, when it was found that those who\nfinally declined paying for what they had year after year received,\nconstituted, among others, the following percentages:\n\nChristian defaulters............. 31 per cent.\n\nSecularist defaulters............ 32 per cent.\"\n\nI wrote to Mr. Spencer as follows:\n\n\"Eastern Lodge, Brighton,\n\n\"_December_ 1, 1885.\n\n\"My dear Mr. Spencer,--I am like the sailor who knocked down the Jew,\nand when he was remonstrated with said, 'He did it because he had\ncrucified his Lord and Saviour.' When told that that occurred 2,000\nyears ago he answered, 'But I only heard of it last night.'\n\n\"It was but a few days ago that your notice of Secularist fraudulency,\nmade in 1874, became known to me.\n\n\"From so dispassionate and analytic an authority as yourself, your\nreflection on the ethical insensibility of Secularists justifies me in\nasking your attention to certain facts. By what test did you know that\n32 per cent of defaulters were Secularists? The names I gave you were of\npersons likely to take in your work if prospectuses were sent to them.\nBut many of them were not Secularists. Some of them were ministers of\nreligion, others Churchmen, but having individually a taste for\nphilosophical inquiry. You do not say that these persons sent in their\nnames as subscribers. Yet unless they did, they cannot be justly\ndescribed 'as regardless of an equitable claim.' Had you informed me of\nany whose names I gave you, who had not paid for the work, after\nundertaking to do so, I could have procured you the payment, for all\nwhose names I gave I believe to be men of good faith.--With real regard,\n\n\"George Jacob Holyoake.\"\n\n\nMr. Spencer sent me the following reply:\n\n\"38, Queen's Gardens, Bayswater, London, W.,\n\n\"_November_ 16, 1885.\n\n\"Dear Mr. Holyoake,--You ask how I happen to know of certain defaulters\nthat they were Secularists. I know them as such simply because their\nnames came to me through you; for, as you may remember, you obtained for\nme, when the prospectus of the 'System of Philosophy' was issued, sundry\nsubscribers.\n\n\"But for my own part, I would rather you did not refer to the matter.\nAt any rate, if you do, do not do so by name. You will observe, if you\nturn to the 'Study of Sociology,' where the matter is referred to, that\nI have spoken of the thing impersonally, and not in reference to myself.\nThough those who knew something of the matter might suspect it referred\nto my own case, yet there is no proof that it did so; and I should be\nsorry to see myself identified by name with the matter.--Truly yours,\n\n\"Herbert Spencer.\"\n\n\nBut Mr. Spencer had identified Secularists as lacking ethical\nscrupulousness, and as I was the reputed founder of that form of\nFreethought known as Secularism, some notice became incumbent on my\npart. The brief article on \"Intellectual Morality\" in the _Present Day_,\nwhich I was editing in 1885, was my answer--the same as appears in my\nletter to Mr. Spencer, above quoted.\n\nIn 1879 the great recluse meditated going to America. As I was about to\ndo the same myself, I volunteered to take a berth in the same vessel\nif I could be of any service to him on the voyage. He thought,\nhowever, that our sailing in the same ship might cause the constructive\ninterviewers out there to confuse together the opinions we represented.\nYet my friends would not know his, nor would his friends know mine.\nBut I respected his scruples, lest his views should become colourably\nidentified with my own. I had myself a preference for keeping distinct\nthings separate, and I sailed in another ship and never called at his\nhotel but once, when he was residing at the Falls of Niagara, which I\nthought was a curious spot (the noisiest in Canada) to choose for one\nwhose need was quietude. He would take an entire flat in a hotel that he\nmight be undisturbed at night. In Montreal, Mr. George Iles gave me the\nsame splendid, spacious, secluded bedroom which he had assigned to Mr.\nSpencer when he was his host there. Professor von Denslow, who told me\nthat he was the \"champion non-sleeper of the United States,\" asked me to\ngive a communication from him to Mr. Spencer. That was the reason of\nmy single visit to him in Canada. At the farewell banquet given to Mr.\nSpencer in New York, famous speakers took part; but Henry Ward Beecher,\nin a speech shorter than any, excelled them all.\n\nAfter his return to England, I had several communications from him\non the subject of Co-operation. Like Mr. Gladstone, he usually made\nsearching inquiries into the details of every question on which he\nwrote. One of his letters was as follows:--\n\n\"2, Lewes Crescent,\n\n\"Brighton,\n\n\"_January_ 6, 1897.\n\n\"Dear Mr. Holyoake,--I should have called upon you before now had I not\nbeen so unwell. I have been kept indoors now for about three weeks. I\nwrite partly to say this and partly to enclose you something of interest\nas bearing upon my suggestion concerning piecework in co-operative\ncombinations. The experience described by Miss Davenport-Hill bears\nindirectly, if not directly, upon them, showing as it does the\nharmonising effect of piecework.--Truly yours,\n\n\"Herbert Spencer.\"\n\n\nBusied as he was with the recondite application of great principles,\nhe had practical discernment of the possibilities of Co-operation,\nunthought of by those of us engaged in promoting co-partnership in the\nworkshop. Trades unions were mostly against piecework as giving more\nactive workers an advantage over the others. Mr. Spencer pointed out\nthat in a co-partnership workshop the fruitfulness of piece work was an\nadvantage to all. The piece-workers increase the output and profits of\nthe society. The profits, being equally divided upon wages, the least\nbright and active members receive benefit from the piece-workers'\nindustry.\n\nOccasionally Mr. Spencer would come to my door and invite me to drive\nwith him. Another time when he had visitors--Mrs. Sidney Webb and Prof.\nMasson, whom I wished to meet again--he would, if in the winter season,\nsend me a card from \"2, Lewes Crescent, Jan. 24, 1897.--I _will_ send\nthe carriage for you to-morrow (Sunday) at 12.40. With the hood up\nand the leather curtain down you will be quite warm.--H.S.\" He would\noccasionally send me grouse or pheasant for luncheon. Very pleasant were\nthe amenities of philosophy.\n\nThe first work of Mr. Spencer's which attracted public attention was\n\"Social Statics.\" Like Mr. Lewes' \"Biography of Philosophy,\" it had a\npristine charm which fascinated young thinkers. Both authors restated\ntheir works, but left behind their charm. Mr. Gladstone's first address\nto the electors of Newark contains the germs of his whole and entire\ncareer. \"Social Statics\" contains the element of that philosophy which\ngave Spencer the first place among thinkers of all times. Bishop Colenso\nfound the book in the library of the builder of his Mission Houses in\nSouth Africa. Mr. Ryder, of Bradford, Yorkshire, procured it through me\nand took it out with him. It was a book of inspiration to him.\n\nTen years before \"Social Statics\" appeared I was concerned with others\nin publishing, in the \"Oracle of Reason,\" a theory of Regular Gradation.\nOur motto, from Boitard, was an explicit statement of Evolution. Five\nout of seven of us were soon in prison, which shows that we did not\nsucceed in making Evolution attractive. Intellectual photography was\nthen in an infantine state. Our negatives lacked definition and our best\nimpressions were indistinct. It was not until Darwin and Spencer\narose that the art of developing the Evolutionary plates came to be\nunderstood.\n\nBefore the days of Spencer the world of scientific thought was mostly\nwithout form and void. The orthodox voyagers who set out to sea steered\nby a compass which always veered to a Jewish pole, and none who sailed\nwith them knew where they were. Rival theologians constructed dogmatic\ncharts, increasing the confusion and peril. Guided by the pole star\nof Evolution, Spencer sailed out alone on the ocean of Speculation\nand discovered a new empire of Law--founded without blood, or the\nsuppression of liberty, or the waste of wealth--where any man may dwell\nwithout fear or shame.\n\nThe fascination of Mr. Spencer's pages to the pulpit-wearied inquirer\nwas, that they took him straight to Nature. Mr. Spencer seemed to\nwrite with a magnifying pen which revealed objects unnoticed by other\nobservers. His vision, like a telescope, descried sails at sea invisible\nto those on shore. His pages, if not poems, gleamed with the poetry of\nfacts. His facts were the handmaids always at hand which explained his\nprinciple. His repetitions do not tire, but are fresh assurances to the\nreader that he is following a continuous argument. A pedestrian passing\ndown a long street is glad to meet the recurrence of its name, that he\nmay know he is still upon the same road. In Spencer's reasonings there\nare no byways left open, down which the sojourner may wander and lose\nhimself. When cross-roads come in sight, fingerposts are set up telling\nhim where they lead to, and directing him which to take. Mr. Spencer\npursues a new thought, never loses sight of it, and takes care the\nreader does not. No statement goes before without the proof following\nclosely after.\n\nWhen the reception was given to me at South Place Institute, London, in\nApril, 1903, on my eighty-sixth birthday, he had been confined to his\nhouse from the previous August, yet he took trouble to write some words\nof personal regard to myself beyond all my expectation. To the end of\nhis days--save when the weather was inclement--I used to walk up the\nhill to his door to inquire as to his health, and when I could not do\nso, Mr. Troughton would write me word. Mr. Spencer's last letter to\nme was in answer to one I had sent him on his birthday. It was so\ncharacteristic as to deserve quoting:\n\n\"Thanks for your congratulations; but I should have liked better your\ncondolences on my longevity.\"\n\nHe wanted no twilight in his life. Like the sun in America, his wish was\nto disappear at once below the horizon--having amply given his share of\nlight in his day.\n\nLike Huxley, Mr. Spencer would not have slept well in Westminster Abbey.\nHe needed no consolation in death; and if he had, there was no one who\nknew enough to give it to him. His conscience was his consolation. His\none choice was that his friend Mr. John Morley--than whom none were\nfitter--should speak at his death the last words over him. Mr. Morley\nbeing in Sicily, this could not be. The next in friendship and power of\nestimate--the Right Hon. Leonard Courtney--spoke in his stead, at the\nHampstead Crematorium. Mr. Spencer had a radium mind which gave forth,\nof its own spontaneity, light and heat. None who have died could more\nappropriately repeat the proud lines of Sir Edward Dyer:--\n\n     \"My mind to me a kingdom is;\n     Such perfect joy therein I find\n     As far exceeds all earthly bliss\n     That God or Nature hath assign'd.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI. SINGULAR CAREER OF MR. DISRAELI\n\nI prefer the picturesque name of Disraeli which he contrived out of the\ntribal designation of \"D'Israeli.\" Had it been possible he would have\ntransmuted Benjamin into a Gentile name. Disraeli is far preferable to\nthe sickly title of Beaconsfield, by which association he sought to be\ntaken as the Burke of the Tories, for which his genius was too thin.\n\nDisraeli is a fossilised bygone to this generation; though in the\npolitical arena he was the most glittering performer of his day. Men\nadmired him as the Blondin of Parliament, who could keep his feet on\na tight-rope at any elevation. Others looked upon him as a music-hall\nSandow who could snap into two a thicker bar of bovine ignorance than\nany other athlete of the \"country party.\" He was capable of serving\nany party, but preferred the party who could best serve him. He was an\nexample how a man, conscious of power and unhampered by scruples, could\nadvance himself by strenuous devices of making himself necessary to\nthose he served.\n\nThe showy waistcoat and dazzling jewellery in which he first presented\nhimself to the House of Commons, betrayed the primitive taste of a\nJew of the Minories, and foreshadowed that trinket statesmanship which\ncaptivated his party, who thought sober, honest principles dull and\nunentertaining.\n\nGermany and England contemporaneously produced the two greatest\nadventurers of the century--Ferdinand Lassalle and Benjamin Disraeli.\nBoth were Jews. Both had dark locks and faith in jewellery. Both were\nSybarites in their pleasures; and personal ambition was the master\npassion of each. Both were consummate speakers. Both sought distinction\nin literature as a prelude to influence. Both professed devotion to\nthe interests of the people by promulgating doctrines which would\nconsolidate the power of the governing classes. Lassalle counselled war\nagainst Liberalism, Disraeli against the Whigs. Lassalle adjusted\nhis views to Bismarck, as Disraeli did to Lord Derby. Both owed their\nfortunes to rich ladies of maturity. Both challenged adversaries to a\nduel, but Disraeli had the prudence to challenge Daniel O'Connell, who,\nhe knew, was under a vow not to fight one, while Lassalle challenged\nCount Racowitza, and was killed.\n\nIt was a triumph without parallel to bring to pass that the proud\naristocracy of England should accept a Jew for its master. Not\napproaching erect, like a human thing, Disraeli stealthily crept,\nlizard-like, through the crevices of Parliament, to the front of the\nnation, and with the sting that nature had given him he kept his enemies\nat bay. No estimate of him can explain him, which does not take into\naccount his race. An alien in the nation, he believed himself to belong\nto the sole race that God has recognised. The Jew has an industrial\ndaintiness which is an affront to mankind. He, as a rule, stands\nby while the Gentile puts his hand to labour. Isolated by Christian\nostracism, the Jew tills no ground; he follows no handicraft--a Spinoza\nhere and there excepted. The Jew, as a rule, lives by wit and thrift.\nHe is of every nation, but of no nationality, save his own. He takes no\nperilous initiation; he leads no forlorn hope; he neither conspires for\nfreedom, nor fights for it. He profits by it, and acquiesces in it; but\ngenerally gives you the impression that he will aid either despotism\nor liberty, as a matter of business--as many do who are not Jews. There\nare, nevertheless, men of noble qualities among them, and as a class\nthey are as good or better than Christians would be had they been\ntreated for nineteen centuries as badly as Jews have been.\n\nDerision and persecution inspire a strong spirit with retaliation, and\nabsolve him from scrupulous methods of compassing it. Two things the Jew\npursues with an unappeasable passion--distinction and authority among\nbelievers, before whom his race has been compelled to cringe. An ancient\npeople which subsists by subtlety and courage, has the heroic sense\nof high tradition, still looks forward to efface, not the indignity of\ndays, but of centuries--which imparts to the Jew a lofty implacableness\nof aim, which never pauses in its purpose. How else came Mr. Disraeli\nby that form of assegai sentences, of which one thrust needed no\nrepetition, and by that art which enabled him to climb on phrases to\npower?\n\nA critic, who had taken pains to inform himself, brought charges against\nD'Israeli the Elder to the effect that he had taken passages of mark\nfrom the books of Continental sceptics and had incorporated them as his\nown. At the same time he denounced the authors, so as to disincline the\nreader to look into their pages for the D'Israelian plagiaries. In the\nnovels of D'Israeli the Younger I have come upon passages which I\nhave met with elsewhere in another form. As the reader knows, Disraeli\ndelivered in Parliament, as his own, a fine passage from Thiers. So\nthat when Daniel O'Connell described Disraeli as \"the heir-at-law of the\nimpenitent thief who died on the cross,\" he was nearer the truth than he\nknew, for there was petty larceny in the Disraelian family.\n\nWhen Sir James Stansfeld entered Parliament he had that moral distrust\nof Disraeli, which Lord Salisbury, in his Cranborne days, published\na _Review_ to warn his party against. Sir James (then Mr. Stansfeld)\nexpressed a similar sentiment of distrust. Disraeli said to a friend in\nthe lobby immediately after, \"I will do for that educated mechanic\" The\nvitriolic spite in the phrase was worthy of Vivian Grey. He kept his\nword, and caused Mr. Stansfeld's retirement from the Ministry. It was\nthe nature of Disraeli to destroy any one who withstood him. At the same\ntime he could be courteous and even kind to literary Chartists who, like\nThomas Cooper and Ernest Jones, helped to frustrate the Whigs at the\npoll, which served the purpose of Tory ascendency, which was Disraeli's\nchance.\n\nIn Easter, 1872, I was in Manchester when Disraeli had the greatest\npantomime day of his life--when he played the Oriental Potentate in the\nPomona Gardens. All the real and imaginary Tory societies that could be\ngot together from surrounding counties were paraded in procession before\nhim. To each he made audacious little speeches, which astonished them\nand, when made known, caused jubilancy in the city.\n\nThe deputation from Chorley reminded him of Mr. Charley, member for\nSalford. He exclaimed, \"Chorley and Charley are good names!\" When a Tory\nsick and burial society came up he said \"he hoped they were doing a good\nbusiness, and that their future would be prosperous!\" When the night\ncame for his speech, the Free Trade Hall was crowded. It was said that\n2,000 persons paid a guinea each for their seats.\n\nMr. Callander, his host, had taken, at Mr. Disraeli's request, some\nbrandy to the meeting. It was he who poured some into a glass of water.\nMr. Disraeli, on tasting it, turned to him and said in an undertone,\n\"There's nothing in it.\" This wounded the pride of his host, who took it\nas an imputation of stinginess on his part, and he filled the next glass\nplentifully. This was the beginning of the orator's trouble. For the\nfirst fifteen minutes he spoke in his customary resonant voice. Then\nhusky, sibilant and explosive sentences were unmistakable. Apprehensive\nreporters, sitting below him, moved aside lest the orator should fall\nupon them. Suspicious gestures set in. An umbrella was laid near the\nedge of the platform, that the speaker might keep within the umbrella\nrange. For this there was a good reason, as the speaker's habit of\nraising himself on his toes endangered his balance. All the meeting\nunderstood the case. The orator soon lost all sense of time. He, who\nknew so well how to suit performance to occasion, was incapable of\nstopping himself. The audience had come from distant parts. At nine\no'clock they could hear the railway bell, calling some to the trains.\nTen o'clock came, when a larger portion of the audience was again\nperturbed by railway warnings. Disraeli was still speaking. Eleven\no'clock came; the audience had further decreased then, but Disraeli was\nstill declaiming hoarse sentences. It was a quarter-past eleven before\nhis peroration came to an end; and many, who wished to have their\nguinea's worth of Parliamentary oratory, had to sleep in Manchester that\nnight Everybody knew the speaker would have ceased two hours earlier if\nhe could. His host in the chair was much disquieted. His house was some\ndistance from the city, and he had invited a large party of gentlemen to\nmeet the great Conservative leader at supper, which had long been\nready. Besides, he was afraid his guest would be unable to appear at it.\nArriving at the house Disraeli asked his host to give him champagne--\"a\nbottle of fizz\" was the phrase he used--which he drank with zest, when,\nto the astonishment of his host, he joined the party and was at his\nbest. He delighted every one with his sallies and his satire.\n\nThe next morning the city Conservatives were unwilling to speak of the\nprotracted disappointment of the evening before. The Manchester papers\ngave good reports of the long speech, which contained some passages\nworthy of the speaker at any time--as when he compared the occupants\nof the front bench of the Government in the House of Commons to so many\nextinct volcanoes. As some members of Her Majesty's Government were\nknown friends of Mazzini and Garibaldi, the aptitude of the simile lives\nin political memory to this day. When the _Times_ report arrived it\nwas found that a considerable portion of the speech was devoted to the\nlaudation of certain county families, which were not mentioned in the\nManchester reports, and it was said that Disraeli had dictated his\nspeech to Mr. Delane before he came down. But though he lost his voice\nand his memory, he never lost his wit, for he praised another set of\nfamilies that came into his head.\n\nOnly in two instances has Mr. Disraeli been publicly charged with errors\nof vintage. In his time I heard members manifestly inebriated, address\nthe House of Commons. On a memorable night Mr. Gladstone said Disraeli\nhad access to sources of inspiration not open to Her Majesty's\nMinisters.\n\nIn the _Morning Star_ there appeared next day a passage from Disraeli's\nspeech, reported in vinous forms of sibilant expression. On that\noccasion Lord John Manners carried to him, from time to time during his\noration, five glasses of brandy and water. I saw them brought in. There\nwas the great table between the two front benches, which Mr. Disraeli\nsaid was fortunate, as he feared Mr. Gladstone might spring upon him.\nAll the while it was not protection Mr. Disraeli wanted from the table,\nbut support, for he clutched it as he spoke. Sir John Macdonald, Premier\nof Canada, whom I had the honour to visit at Ottawa, not only resembled\nDisraeli in features, in the curl of his hair, but in his wit. One\nnight Sir John made an extraordinary after-dinner speech, which had the\nflavour of a whole vintage in it. When Sir John found he had astonished\nthe whole Dominion, he sent for the reporter, who appeared, trembling\nwith apprehension. \"Young man,\" said Sir John, \"with your talent for\nreporting you have a great future before you. But take my advice--never\nreport a speech in future when you are drunk.\"\n\nConnoisseurs in art who went to the sale of his effects at Disraelis\nMayfair house were astonished at the Houndsditch quality of what they\nfound there. Not a ray of taste was to be seen, not an article worth\nbuying. The glamour of the Oriental had lain in phrases, not in art.\n\nIt was the Liberals who were the champions of the Jews, and who were the\ncause of their admission to Parliament. Mr. Disraeli must have had some\ngenerous memory of this. Mr. Bright would cross the floor of the House\nsometimes to confer with Disraeli. There must have been elements in\nhis character in which Mr. Bright had confidence. It was believed to\nbe owing to his respect for Mr. Blight's judgment that he took no part\nagainst America, when his party did all they could to destroy the cause\nof the Union in the great Anti-Slavery War. It ought to be remembered to\nDisraeli's credit, that he made what John Stuart Mill called a \"splendid\nconcession\" of household suffrage, although he took it back the next\nnight, by the pernicious creation of the \"compound householder.\" Still,\nLiberals owe it to him that household suffrage came to prevail when it\ndid.\n\nDisraeli's attacks upon Peel were dictated by the policy of\nself-advancement. He was capable of admiring Peel, but he admired\nhimself more. Standing outside English questions and interests, he was\nable to treat them with an airiness which was a political relief. Yet he\ncould see that our Colonies might become \"millstones round the neck\nof the Empire\" if we gave them too much of Downing Street, or maybe of\nHighbury.\n\nTo say Disraeli had no conscience would be to say more than any man\nhas knowledge enough to say of another; but he certainly never gave the\npublic the impression that he had one. He devised the scheme of giving\nthe Queen the title of \"Empress.\" Mr. Gladstone opposed it as dangerous\nto the dynasty, lowering its dignity to the level of Continental\nEmperorship, and taking from the Crown the master jewel of law, which\nhas been more or less its security and glory for a thousand years.\n\nDisraeli seemed to care for the Queen's favour--nothing for the\nintegrity of the Crown. He declared himself a Christian, and said in the\npresence of the Bishop of Oxford, with Voltairean mockery, that he\nwas \"on the side of the angels,\" and elsewhere described Judas as\nan accessory to the crucifixion before the act, and to that ignoble\ntreachery all Christians were indebted for their salvation--an idea\nwhich could never have entered a Gentile mind. This was pure Voltairean\nscorn.\n\nIn his last illness he was reported to have had three different kinds\nof physicians--allopath, hydropath, homoeopath; and had he chosen the\nspiritual ministration of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Chief Rabbi,\nand Mr. Spurgeon, no one would have been surprised at his sardonic\nprudence.\n\nI had admiration, though not respect, for his career. Yet I was for\njustice being done to him. When it was thought the Tories would prevent\nhis accession to the Premiership, which was his right by service, I was\none of those who cheered him in the lobby of the House of Commons, to\nshow that adversaries of his politics were against his being defrauded\nof the dignity he had won.\n\nHow was it that Disraeli's standing at Court was never affected by what\nwould be deemed seditious defamation of the Crown in any other person?\nWhen I mentioned in America the revolutionary license of his tongue in\ndeclaring the Queen to be physically and morally incapable of governing,\nthe statement was received with incredulity. The reporters who took\ndown his Aylesbury speech containing the astounding words hesitated to\ntranscribe them, and one asked permission to read the passage to Mr.\nDisraeli, who assented to its correctness, and the words appeared in the\n_Standard_ and _Telegraph_ of September 27, 1871. The _Times_ and _Daily\nNews_ omitted the word \"morally,\" deeming it incredible. But it was\nsaid. His words were: \"We cannot conceal from ourselves that Her Majesty\nis physically and morally incapacitated from performing her duties.\"\nThis meant that Her Majesty was imbecile--a brutal thing to suggest,\nconsidering family traditions.\n\nAt a Lord Mayor's banquet Mr. Disraeli gave an insulting and defamatory\naccount of the Russian Royal Family and Government, and boasted, like\nan inebriate Jingo, of England's capacity to sustain three campaigns\nagainst that Power. As the Queen had a daughter-in-law a member of the\nRoyal House of Russia, this wanton act of international offensiveness\nmust have produced a sensation of shame and pain in the English Royal\nFamily. I well remember the consternation and disapproval with which\nboth speeches were regarded by the people. Whatever even Republicans may\nthink of the theory of the Crown, they are against any personal outrage\nupon it. Yet Mr. Gladstone, who was always forward to sustain, by\ngraceful and discerning praise, the interest of the Royal Family, and\nprocure them national grants, to which Mr. Disraeli could never have\nreconciled the nation, was simply endured by Her Majesty, while to Mr.\nDisraeli ostentatious preference was shown. It was said in explanation\nthat Mr. Gladstone had no \"small talk\" with which Mr. Disraeli\nentertained his eminent hostess. It was not \"small talk,\" it was Tory\ntalk, which the Queen rewarded.\n\nI am of Lord Actons opinion, that Mr. Disraeli was morally\ninsupportable, though otherwise astonishing. The pitiless resentment\nof \"Vivian Grey\" towards whoever stood in his way was the prevailing\ncharacteristic of the triumphant Jew. Like other men of professional\nambition, he had the charm of engaging amity to those who were for the\ntime being no longer impediment to him. When showing distress at a few\ndrops of rain falling, news was brought Her Majesty that Mr. Gladstone\nhad returned from a voyage and addressed a crowd on the beach. Disraeli\nexclaimed with pleasant gaiety, \"What a wonderful man that Gladstone\nis. Had I returned from a voyage I should be glad to go to bed. Mr.\nGladstone leaps on shore and makes a speech.\"\n\nThe moral of this singular career worth remembering, is that genius\nand versatility, animated by ambition without scruple, may attain\ndistinction without principle. It can win national admiration, but not\npublic affection. All it can accomplish is to leave behind a name of\nsinister renown. If we knew all, no doubt Lord Beaconsfield had, apart\nfrom the exigencies of ambition, personal qualities commanding esteem.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII. CHARACTERISTICS OF JOSEPH COWEN\n\nI\n\nPolitical readers will long remember the name of Joseph Cowen, who won\nin a single night the reputation of a national orator. All at once he\nachieved that distinction in an assembly where few attain it. After a\ntime he retired to his tent and never more emerged from it. The occasion\nof his first speech in Parliament was the introduction of the Bill for\nconverting the Queen into an Empress. Queen was a wholesome monarchical\nname, which implied in England supremacy under the law; while Empress,\nalien to the genius of the political constitution, is a military title\nof sinister reputation, and implies a rank outside and above the law.\nLike Imperialism, it connotes military government, which, in the opinion\nof the free and prudent, is the most odious, dangerous, and costly of\nall governments.\n\nMr. Cowen entertained a strong repugnance to the word \"Empress,\" which\nmight become a prelude to Imperialism--as it has done.\n\nMr. Cowen's father, who preceded him in the House of Commons, was\nscrupulous in apparel, never affecting fashion, but keeping within\nits pale. His son was not only careless of fashion--he despised it. He\nemployed local tailors, from neighbourliness, and was quite content with\ntheir craftsmanship. He never wore what is called a \"top\" hat, but a\nfelt one, a better shape than what is known now as a \"clerical\" hat It\nwas thought he would abandon it when he entered Parliament, but he\ndid not He commonly left it in the cloak-room. He had no wish to\nbe singular. His attire was as natural to him as his skin is to an\nEthiopian. His headgear imperilled his candidature, when that came\nabout.\n\nHe had been two years in Parliament before he addressed it. When he rose\nmany members were standing impatient for division and crying \"Divide!\nDivide!!\" Mr. Cowen, being a small man, was not at once perceived, but\nhis melodious, honest, and eager voice arrested attention, though his\nNorthumbrian accent was unfamiliar to the House. It was as difficult to\nsee the new orator as to see Curran in an Irish Court, or Thiers in the\nFrench Chamber. Disraeli glanced at him through his eyeglass, as though\nMr. Cowen was one of Dean Swift's Lilliputians, and of one near him\nhe asked contemptuously, as a Northern burr broke upon his ear, \"What\nlanguage is the fellow talking?\"\n\nThe speech had all the characteristics of an oration, historical,\ncompact, and complete--though brief. In it he said three things never\nheard in Parliament before. One was that the \"Divine right of kings\nperished on the scaffold with Charles I.\" Another was that \"the\nsuperstition of royalty had never taken any deep hold of the English\npeople.\" The third was to describe our august ally, the Emperor Napoleon\nIII., as an \"usurper.\" The impression the speech made upon the country\nwas great. It so accorded with the popular sentiment that some persons\npaid for its appearance as an advertisement in the _Daily News_ and\nother papers of the day, and the speaker acquired the reputation of an\norator by a single speech. Mr. Disraeli's contemptuous reception of it\ndid not prevent him, at a later date, from going up to Mr. Cowen, when\nhe was standing alone by a fire, and paying him some compliment which\nmade a lasting impression upon him. Mr. Disraeli had discernment to\nrecognise genius when he saw it, and generosity enough to respect it\nwhen not directed against himself. If it were, he was implacable.\n\nFor years, as I well knew, Mr. Cowen spent more money for the\nadvancement and vindication of Liberalism than any other English\ngentleman. He was the most generous friend of \"forlorn hopes\" England\nhas known. How many combatants has he aided; how many has he succoured;\nhow many has he saved! If the other world be human like this, what\ncrowds of grateful spirits of divers climes must have rushed to the\nthreshold of heaven to welcome him as he entered.\n\nPenniless, and his crew foodless, Garibaldi steered his vessel up the\nTyne. Mr. Cowen was the only man in England Garibaldi then sought\nor confided in. Before he left the Tyne, Mr. Cowen, on behalf of\nsubscribers (of whom many were pitmen), presented Garibaldi with a sword\nwhich cost L146. Goldwin Smith says, in his picturesque way, Henry\nIII. had a \"waxen heart.\" Mr. Cowen had an iron heart, steeled by noble\npurpose. He knew no fear, physical or mental. Not like my friend, George\nHenry Lewes, whose sense of intellectual right was so strong that he\nnever saw consequences. Cowen did see them, and disregarded them; he\n\"nothing knew to fear, and nothing feared to know\"--neither ideas nor\npersons. How many men, not afraid of ideas, are much afraid of knowing\nthose who have them? Unyielding to the high, how tender he was to the\nlow!\n\nRiding home with him one night, after a stormy meeting in Newcastle,\nwhen we were near to Stella House (he had not gone to reside in the\nHall then) the horse suddenly stopped. Mr. Cowen got out to see what the\nobstruction was, and he found it was one of his own workmen lying drunk\nacross the road. His master roused him and said: \"Tom, what a fool thou\nart! Had not the horse been the more sensible beast, thou hadst been\nkilled.\" He would use these Scriptural pronouns in speaking to his men.\nThe man could not stand, and Mr. Cowen and the coachman carried him to\nthe door of another workman, called him up, and bade him let Tom lie in\nhis house till morning. Then we drove on.\n\nAnother time a workman came to Mr. Cowen for an advance of thirty\nshillings. Being asked what he wanted the money for, the man answered:\n\"To get drunk, sir; I have not been drunk for six weeks.\" \"Thou\nknowest,\" said Mr. Cowen, \"I never take any drink, because I think the\nexample good for thee. Thou will go to Gateshead Fair, get locked up,\nand I shall have to bail thee out. There is the money; but take my\nadvice, get drunk at home, and thy wife will take care of thee.\" How\nmany employers possess workmen having that confidence in them to put\nsuch a question as this workman did, without fear of losing their\nsituation? No workman lied, or had need to lie, to Mr. Cowen. He had the\ntolerance and tenderness of a god.\n\nWhen I was ill in his house in Essex Street, Strand, he would come up\nat night and tell me of his affairs, as he did in his youth. He had for\nsome time been giving his support to the Conservative side. I said to\nhim, \"Disraeli is dead. Do you not see that you may take his place if\nyou will? It is open. His party has no successor among them.\nHe had race, religion, and want of fortune against him. You have none\nof these disadvantages against you. You are rich, and you can speak\nas Disraeli never could. He had neither the tone nor the fire of\nconscience--you have both. You have the ear of the House, and the\npersonal confidence of the country, as he never had. In his place you\nwould fill the ear of the world.\" He thought for a time on what I said\nto him; then his answer was: \"There is one difficulty--I am not a Tory.\"\n\nI saw he was leaving the side of Liberalism and that he would inevitably\ndo Conservative work, and I was wishful that he should have the credit\nof it. He was under a master passion which carried him he knew not\nwhither.\n\nIt was my knowledge of Mr. Cowen, long before that night, that made me\noft say that a Tyneside man had more humility and more pride than God\nhad vouchsafed to any other people of the English race. Until middle\nlife Mr. Cowen was as his father, immovable in principle; afterwards\nhe was as his mother in implacableness. That is the explanation of his\ncareer.\n\nThe \"passion\" referred to--never avowed and never obtruded, but\nwhich \"neither slumbered nor slept\"--was ambition. It might be called\nParamountcy--that dangerous war-engendering word of Imperialism--which\nonly the arrogant pronounce, and only the subjugated submit to.\n\nThe Cowen family had no past but that of industry, and in Mr. Cowen's\nyouth the \"slings and arrows of outrageous\" Toryism, shafts of\narrogance, insolence, and contempt, flew about him. He inherited from\nhis mother a proud and indomitable spirit, and resolved to create a\nLiberal force which should withstand all that--and he did. Then, when\nhe came to be, as he thought, flouted by those whom he had served (the\ncommon experience of the noblest men), he at length resented and turned\nagainst himself. He had reached the heights where he had been awarded\nan imperishable place, and then descended in resentment to mingle and be\nlost in the ignominious faction whom he had defeated and despised. Those\nwho had enraged him were not, as we shall see, worth his resentment\n\nIt was not for \"a handful of silver\" he left us--for he had plenty--nor\nfor \"a ribbon to stick in his coat,\" for he would not wear one\nif offered a basketful. It was just indignation, stronger than\nself-respect.\n\nNot all at once did the desire of control assume this form. By his\nnatural nobility of nature he inclined to the view that all the\nsupremacy inherent in man is that of superior capacity, to which all men\nyield spontaneous allegiance.\n\nSome time elapsed before the bent of his mind became apparent. Possibly\nit was not known to himself.\n\nWhen a young man, he promoted and maintained two or three journals, in\nwhich he also wrote himself, without suggesting to others the passion\nfor journalism by which he was possessed. Some years later, when proofs\nof one of his speeches which a reporter had taken down, and Mr. Cowen\nhad himself corrected, passed through my hands, I was struck with the\ndexterity with which he put a word of fire into a tame sentence, infused\ncolour into a pale-faced expression, and established a pulse in an\nanaemic one. It was clear that he had the genius of speech in him and\nwas ambitious of distinction in it.\n\nMr. Cowen's father was a tall, handsome man of the Saxon type, which\ngoes steadily forward and never turns back. He always described himself\nas a follower of Lord Durham, and was out on the Newcastle Town Moor in\n1819, at great meetings in support of the Durham principles. His mother\nwas quite different in person, both in stature and appearance;\nsomewhat of the Spanish type--dark, and mentally capable of impassable\nresolution. Her son, Joseph, with whom we are here concerned, had dark,\nluminous eyes which were the admiration of London drawing-rooms--when\nhe could be got to enter them. His eldest sister, Mrs. Mary Carr, was as\ntall as her father, with the complexion of her mother. I used to compare\nher to Judith, the splendid Jewess who slew Holofernes. She used to\nsay her brother Joseph had her mother's spirit, and that a \"Cowen never\nchanged.\" Her brother never changed in his purpose of ascendency, but\nwhen inspired by resentment he could change his party to attain his\nend--as I have seen done in the House of Commons many times in my day.\nThis is why I have said that in the early part of Mr. Cowen's life he\nwas his father---placid but purposeful. In the second half he was his\nmother--resentful and implacable when affronted by non-compliance where\nhe expected and desired concurrence. But I have known many excellent men\nwho did not take dissent from their opinions in good part.\n\nHow fearless Mr. Cowen was, was shown in his conduct when a dangerous\noutbreak of cholera occurred in Newcastle. People were dying in every\nstreet and lane, but he went out from Blaydon every morning at the\nusual time, and walked through the infected streets and passages into\nNewcastle, to his offices on the quay, being met on his way by persons\nin distress, from death in their houses, who knew they were sure\nof sympathy and assistance from him. The courage of his unfailing\nappearance in his ordinary way saved many from depression which might\nhave proved fatal to them. When a wandering guest fell ill at his home,\nStella House, Blaydon, he was sure of continued hospitality until his\nrecovery. Mr. Cowen's voice of sympathy and condolence was the tenderest\nI ever heard from human lips.\n\nA poor man, who lived a good deal upon the moors, was charged with\nshooting a doctor, and would have been hanged but for Mr. Cowen\ndefending him by legal aid. He thought the police had apprehended him\nbecause he was the most likely, in their opinion, to be guilty. He was\npoor, friendless, and often houseless. The man did not seem quite right\nin his mind. After his acquittal, Mr. Cowen took him into his employ,\nand made him his gardener. The garden was remote and solitary. I often\npassed my mornings in it, not without some personal misgiving. Mr.\nCowen eventually enabled the man to emigrate to America, where a little\neccentricity of demeanour does not count.\n\nIn the political estrangements of Mr. Cowen, it must be owned he had\nprovocations. A party of social propagandists came to Newcastle, whom\nhe entertained, as they had never been entertained before, at a cost of\nhundreds of pounds, and was at great expense to give publicity to\ntheir objects. They left him to defray some bills they had the means of\npaying. Years later, when they came again into the district, he did no\nmore for them in the former way. He had conceived a distrust of them.\nAnother time he was asked by persons whom he was willing to aid, to buy\nsome premises for them, as they would be prejudiced at the auction if\nthey appeared in person. Mr. Cowen bought the property for L5,000. They\nchanged their minds when it was bought, and left Mr. Cowen, who did not\nwant it, with it upon his hands. He did not resent it, as he might have\ndone, but it was an act of meanness which would have revolted the heart\nof an archangel of human susceptibility.\n\nWhen the British Association first came to Newcastle, Mr. Cowen spent\nmore than L500 in giving publicity to their proceedings. He brought a\nrailway carriage full of writers and reporters from London, that the\nproceedings of every section should be made known to the public He had\npersonal notices written of all the principal men of science who came\nthere, and when he asked for admission of his reporters, he was\ncharged L19 for their tickets. As I was one of those engaged in the\narrangements, I shared his indignation at this scientific greed and\ningratitude. In all the history of the British Association, before and\nsince, it never met with the enthusiasm, the liberality and publicity\nthe _Newcastle Chronicle_ accorded it.\n\nIn the days of the great Italian struggle, little shoals of exiles\nfound their way to England. Learning where the great friend of Garibaldi\ndwelt, they found their way to Newcastle, and many were directed there\nfrom different parts of England. Many times he was sent for to the\nrailway station, where a number of destitute exiles had arrived. He\nrelieved their immediate wants and had them provided for at various\nlodgings, until they were able to get some situation elsewhere. I think\nMr. Cowen began to tire of this, as he thought exiles were\nsometimes sent to him by persons who ought to have taken part of the\nresponsibility themselves, but who seemed to consider that his was the\npurse of the Continent.\n\nOnce when Mr. Cowen attended a political conference in Leeds, he\nreceived as he entered the room marked attention, as he was known to be\nthe leader of the Liberal forces of Durham and Northumberland. But Mr.\nW. E. Forster, who was present, took no notice of him, though Mr. Cowen\nhad rendered him great political service. When Mr. Bright saw Mr. Cowen\nhe cordially greeted him. Immediately Mr. Forster, seeing this, stepped\nup also and offered him compliments, which Mr. Cowen received very\ncoldly without returning them, and passed away to his seat. Mr. Cowen's\nimpression was that as Mr. Forster had suffered him to pass by without\nrecognition, he did not want to know him before that assembly; but when\nMr. Forster saw Mr. Bright's welcome of his friend, he was willing to\nknow him. Mr. Forster, as I had reason to know afterwards, was capable\nof such an action, where recognition stood in the way of his interests,*\nbut it was not so on this occasion. Mr. Forster was short-sighted, and\nsimply did not see Mr. Cowen when he first passed him. But it happened\nthat he did see him when Mr. Bright stepped forward to speak to him, and\nthere was no slight of Mr. Cowen intended. Yet from that hour Mr. Cowen\nentertained a contempt for Mr. Forster, and would neither meet him nor\nspeak to him. One day Mr. Cowen and I were at a railway station, where\nMr. Forster appeared in his volunteer uniform. We had to wait some time\nfor the train. Mr. Cowen asked me to walk with him as far as we could\nfrom where Mr. Forster stood, that we should not pass near him. Some\nyears later, at the House of Commons, Mr. Forster asked Mr. Cowen to\nwalk with him in the Green Park, as he wished to speak with him. After\ntwo hours Mr. Cowen returned reconciled. He never told me the cause of\nit, which he should have done, as I had taken his part in the long years\nof resentment I relate the incident as showing how personal\nmisconception produces political estrangement in persons and parties\nalike.\n\n     * But only where ambition was stronger than his habitual\n     sense of honour.    See chapter lxxix, \"Sixty Years.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII. CHARACTERISTICS OF JOSEPH COWEN\n\nII\n\nBut the act which most wounded him occurred at the Elswick works of Lord\nArmstrong. Mr. Cowen was returning one day in his carriage at a time of\npolitical excitement. Some of the crowd threw mud upon his coach, and,\nif I remember rightly, broke the windows. Just before, when the workmen\nwere on strike, they went to Mr. Cowen--as all workmen in difficulties\ndid. He found they did not know their own case, nor how to put it He\nemployed legal aid to look into the whole matter and make a statement of\nit. Mr. Cowen became their negotiator, and obtained a decision in their\nfavour. The whole expense he incurred on their behalf was L150. Services\nof this kind, which had been oft rendered, should have saved him from\npublic contumely at their hands.\n\nAt that time Mr. Cowen was giving the support of his paper against\nLiberalism, which he had so long defended and commended, which was an\nincentive to the outrage. Still, the sense of gratitude for the known\nservices rendered to workers, which he continued irrespective of his\nchange of opinion, should have saved him from all personal disrespect.\n\nThe subjection of the Liberals in Newcastle in the days of his early\ncareer, and the arrogant defamation with which it was assailed, were\nwhat determined him to create a defiant power in its self-defence.\n\nHe bought the _Newcastle Chronicle_, an old Whig paper. He published\nit in Grey Street, afterwards in St. Nicholas' Buildings, and then in\nStephenson Place, on premises now known as the _Chronicle_ Buildings.\nThe printing machines at first cost L250 each, then L450. The\n_Chronicle_ Buildings were purchased for L6,000, and a similar sum was\nexpended in adapting them for their new purposes. The site is the finest\nin Newcastle. The printing machines now cost L6,000 to L7,000. Each\nmachine is provided in duplicate, so that if one side of the press-room\nbroke down, the other side could be instantly set in motion. Once I made\na short speech in the town, which was reported, set up, cast, and an\nedition of the paper containing the speech was on sale within little\nmore than twenty minutes. The office above the great press-room, in\nwhich the public transact business with the paper, is the costliest,\nhandsomest, Grecian interior I know of connected with any newspaper\nbuildings. What perseverance and confidence must have animated Mr. Cowen\nin the enterprise, is shown in the fact that he had sunk L40,000 in it\nbefore it began to pay.* He made the _Chronicle_, as he intended to\nmake it, the leading political power in Durham and Northumberland. The\nleaders he wrote in its columns after he left Parliament were unequalled\nin all the press of England for vividness, eloquence, and variety of\nthought. There could be no greater proof of the dominancy of Mr. Cowen's\nmind, than his establishment and devotion to the _Chronicle_.\n\nI had been a party several years to negotiating with candidates to stand\nfor Newcastle, whose public expenses Mr. Cowen paid. I obtained the\nconsent of the Liberals of York, that Mr. Layard, whom they considered\npledged to them, should become a candidate at Newcastle. \"Why should\nyou?\" I said one day to Mr. Cowen, \"incur these repeated costs for the\ncandidature of others, when you can command a seat in your own family\nfor three generations. If you will not be a candidate, why should\nnot your father?\" The conversation ended by his agreeing that I might\npersuade his father to go to Parliament if I could.\n\n     * Unwilling that his father or banker should surmise how\n     much he was exhausting his personal resources, he directed\n     me at one time to borrow L500 or L1,000 in London. It was\n     advanced by a personal friend.\n\nIt was in vain that I assured him that the seat was open to\nhim, but he did not believe, nor wish to believe it. I several times saw\nhis father at Stella Hall. He thought himself too old. I told him there\nwere fifty gentlemen in the House of Commons, willing to become Prime\nMinister, and some of them waiting for the appointment, who were fifteen\nyears older than he, and would be disappointed did not the chance come\nto them. He found this true when he at length entered the House. His\nobjection was that he could not ask his neighbours, among whom he had\nlived all his days, to elect him. \"Suppose they signed an undertaking to\nvote for you in case you came forward?\" That he consented to consider.\nA requisition signed by 2,178 electors was sent to him. Then another\ndifficulty arose. His son said: \"I cannot support my father in the\n_Chronicle_.\"* Then I said, \"Let me edit it during the election, and no\nline shall appear commending your father to the electors. But whatever\npretensions his adversaries put forth, we will examine.\" My proposal was\nagreed to. It was alleged by the rival candidate, that the requisition\nwas signed out of courtesy to a popular townsman, and did not mean that\nthose who signed it had pledged their votes. To this I answered that\nwhen Chambers appeared on the Thames, bookmakers said, \"Chambers is a\nNewcastle man, who never sells the honour of his town, but will win if\nhe can.\" Is it to be true that a Newcastle elector would not only give\nhis promise, but write it, without intending to keep it? Will he be true\non the Thames and false on the Tyne? All the requisitionists save a\nfew, whom sickness or misadventure kept from the poll, voted for Joseph\nCowen, senior, who was elected by a large majority.\n\n     * This diffidence of appearing as the advocate of his father\n     was carried to excess. When a local paper made remarks upon\n     his father's knighthood, which ought to have been resented,\n     I set out late one night to Darlington, arriving a little\n     before midnight, and wrote a vindicatory notice, which, by\n     the friendship of Mr. H. K. Spark, was inserted in the\n     _Darlington Times_ that night. It was quoted afterwards in\n     the _Newcastle Chronicle_.\n\nThe great services to the town of the new member by his arduous\nchairmanship of the Tyne Commission, would have insured his election,\nbut his majority was no doubt increased by the popularity of his son.\nThis did not escape the comment of local politicians, and Mr. Lowthian\nBell said, \"How is it, Mr. Cowen, that everybody votes for your father\nfor your sake?\" \"I suppose it is,\" was the answer, \"that while you have\nbeen sitting on winter nights with your feet on the rug by the fireside,\nI have been addressing pitmen's meetings in colliery villages, and\nfinding my way home late at night in rain and blast; and it happens that\nthey are grateful for it.\" This was the only time I knew Mr. Cowen to\nmake a self-assertive reply.\n\nWhen Mr. Cowen's father was in the field, and Mr. Beaumont began his\ncanvass, in one street he met with forty-nine refusals to vote for him.\n\"Why will you not vote for me?\" he asked. \"We are going to vote for Mr.\nCoon, now,\" as his name was pronounced at the Tyneside. \"But you have\ntwo votes,\" Mr. Beaumont said; \"you can give me one.\" \"No! if we had\ntwenty votes we should give them all to Mr. Coon. When Chambers and\nClasper make a L100 match for the honour of the Tyne, and we cannot make\nup the money, Mr. Coon always makes it up for us, and when we win and\ngo to repay him, he gives it to us.\" This was not a patriotic reason to\ngive for voting for \"Mr. Coon,\" but it showed gratitude, as well as Mr.\nCowen's influence, and what a hold his kindness to the people had given\nhim upon their affection. Thus they voted for the father from regard for\nthe son. For in those days the son had no idea of Parliament himself,\nand votes were not in his thoughts.\n\nNothing could be more open or gentlemanly than Mr. Cowen in the contests\nto which he was a party. Mr. Somerset Beaumont was member for Newcastle,\nand he impressed Mr. Gladstone with a high sense of his capacity\nin Parliament. One morning, as Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Cowen came into\nNewcastle in the same train, Mr. Cowen said to him, \"You know, Mr.\nBeaumont, we all like you personally, but you do not go far enough\nfor us. We want a more Radical representative for Newcastle. We shall\nprevent your election next time if we can, but only if we have a more\nadvanced candidate. Otherwise we will countenance no opposition to you.\"\n\nWho could foresee the day would come when--save Mr. Cowen--the noblest\ncandidate Newcastle ever had (Mr. John Morley) would be opposed by Mr.\nCowen in the interests of Toryism? Or that, after withstanding at the\nhustings when he became a candidate, and defeating furious collusions\nbetween Tories, Conservatives, Moderates, publicans, and all who had\nvicious interests to serve or spite to gratify, Mr. Cowen himself would\none day be found aiding or abetting the same parties by taking their\nside against Liberalism.\n\nWhen in Parliament, his father had misgivings touching Mr. Gladstone,\nwho, he thought, passed him at times without recognition. He had\nconducted Mr. Gladstone down the Tyne in triumph, and his son had\nassembled 200,000 persons on the Moor, who were addressed from twenty\nplatforms in support of Mr. Gladstone, and provided reporters and\npublished all the speeches. The cost of this was one of a hundred\ncontributions he made in the interest of Liberalism. I used to explain\nthat Mr. Gladstone, intent upon great questions (he was always intent\nupon something) he had to explain to the House--he, self-absorbed, would\npass by his friends without seeing them, expecting, as he had a right to\nexpect, that devotion to the great trust of the State would be taken to\npalliate his seeming inattention to friends.\n\nBut Mr. Gladstone was not unmindful of the service rendered to him at\nNewcastle, and when, some time later--no one else thinking of it--I made\nrepresentations, through Mr. (afterwards Sir) James Stansfeld--without\nknowledge of Mr. Cowen or his son--I was instructed to inform Mr. Cowen,\nsen., that a baronetcy would be placed at his acceptance. Mr. Cowen,\njun., objected entirely on his own part. His father therefore only\naccepted a knighthood, which Her Majesty, from consideration of his\nyears, kindly ordered to be gazetted, obviating his attendance at Court.\nAll the same, it was Mr. Gladstone's intention to recognise the services\nof the son as well as the father.\n\nHonours were not much accessible in those days, especially in uncourtly\nquarters. My representation, in suggesting what I did, was, that as\npersonal distinction was conferred upon persons who had made L100,000,\nsomething was due to one who may be said to have given that sum to the\npublic.* His chairmanship of the Tyne Commission extended over a period\nof twenty-four years, during which the Tyne was converted from a creek\ninto a navigable river.\n\n     * Sir Joseph Cowen was appointed by Act of Parliament, 1850,\n     chairman for life of the Tyne Improvement Commission, an\n     unpaid office. There was then only six feet of water on the\n     bar at low water spring tides, and twenty-one at high water.\n     In 1870 there was a depth of twenty feet at low water, and\n     thirty-five at high water; the deepening extending nine\n     miles from the bar. In twenty years ending 1870 there had\n     been raised thirty-eight million tons. In 1870 the tonnage\n     of the Tyne had risen from two and a half millions to more\n     than four and a half millions, exceeding by one million that\n     of the Thames. In 1865 there entered the Tyne port for\n     refuge 133 vessels. In 1870 558 vessels fled there from the\n     storms of the North Sea.\n\nThe time and assiduity thus devoted to the service of navigation and\ntrade would have added L100,000 to his fortune. That his knighthood\nmight be justified in the eyes of his neighbours and his own, I supplied\nthe facts which authorised it to Mr. Walker, who was then editor of the\n_Daily News_, and which appeared in his leader columns. My reason for\ntaking the step I did was a sense of duty to the public, who should\nsee as far as possible that those who rendered service should find\nacknowledgment of it I was of Coleridge's opinion:--\n\n     \"It seems a message from the world of spirits,\n     When any man obtains that which he merits,\n     Or any merit that which he obtains.\"\n\nOn the death of the father, his son, Mr. Joseph Cowen, was elected in\nhis place, as a member for Newcastle; and Parliament being dissolved\nshortly after, he was again elected by a triumphant majority.\n\nMr. Cowen had made more speeches at the Tyneside than any other resident\never did. But the town was unconscious of their merit. They were\naddressed mostly to working men, and to persons whom it was not thought\nnecessary to report or take into account the speaker. When he became a\ncandidate all classes of persons were among the auditors. The town was\nastonished at the relevance and fire of his orations. I mention this\ncircumstance to show how a man can be famous in one half of the town and\nnot known in the other.\n\nAfter his retirement from Parliament and platform he occasionally\ndelivered orations on persons, at inaugurations, which surpassed all I\nhave ever read of the kind, for aptness of phrase, variety of thought\nand vivid portraiture, which ought to be added to the record of English\noratory.\n\nIt was not reasonable in him, after the change in his political views,\nto expect that his townsmen should adopt the new opinions he had begun\nto countenance, and which he had himself taught them to distrust. But\nthis is what strong leaders do who suffer the pride of power to become\nimperious. A just ambition, which is patient, and will work for results,\ncan as a rule succeed. It is ambition which is impetuous, and will not\nwait longer, which lapses into reaction from disappointment. With all\nhis virtues, Mr. Cowen was impetuous. To desert a party because of the\nfolly or excesses of portions of its members, would oblige a man to\nchange his profession in politics and his creed in religion every twelve\nmonths.\n\nIn his earlier career it may be imagined that Mr. Cowen derived his\nprinciples from generous prejudices, in later days from indignant\nimpulses.\n\nMany persons hold by inheritance right principles into whose foundation\nthey have never inquired. Investigation, if they entered upon it, would\nconfirm their convictions, but not resting on examination, their nobler\nprepossessions may be displaced by passion. We all know in religion how\nvehemently adherents will vindicate questions of which they know only\none side, and hold it to be sinful to inquire into the other. Such\npersons, when right, are unstable and liable to variableness under\nthe glamour of unknown ideas. Mr. Cowen was well informed on Liberal\nprinciples and never took to Conservative views, and, save in\nantagonism, did not assist them.\n\nThe bent of his mind to paramountcy in ideas was shown in the\nextraordinary requirements he made, that Mr. Morley should disown the\npolitical friends who had invited him to Newcastle, and become the\ncandidate of the _Chronicle_. Mr. Morley answered, \"I will not do it,\nand that is flat\" Then Mr. Cowen resolved that this refusal should\ncost him his seat, and ultimately he effected it, not from Conservative\nresentment, but from pride. Had Mr. Morley consented to this condition\nhe would have remained member for Newcastle, supported with all the\nforce of Mr. Cowen's splendid advocacy. Mr. Cowen always remained true\nto Home Rule for Ireland. But, as we have seen done in the case of\nothers in Parliament, he assailed every one who held it not under his\ninspiration.\n\nMr. Cowen was naturally noble, and resentment never made him mean, but\nlike any one to whom compliance with his essential convictions is a\nnecessity of his mind, he was apt to regard non-concurring persons\nas better out of the way. He would not destroy them, but they were no\nlonger objects of his solicitude.\n\nEverybody who did not take this into account failed to understand Mr.\nCowen's career. He sought nothing for himself--he refused everything\noffered to him, office included, and accepted no overture made to him.\nWhatever opinion he held, to whatever party he allied himself, he might,\nif he wished, have remained member for Newcastle all his life. He wanted\nno place in Parliament; all he wanted was his own way--compliance with\nhis own opinions. He had no ambition in the ordinary sense--he had\nno sinister end to serve, and it was always his preference to promote\nliberty and progress, generosity and good faith in public affairs.\n\nConforming to no conventionality, never entering society, nor accepting\nany invitation to do it, in his attention to his collieries, his ships,\nhis firebrick works, manufactory, newspaper and public meetings, he\nwas occupied from early morning until late at night, without rest and\nwithout hurry. He was never exhausted and was never still. One evening\nhe lay down on his sofa, fell asleep, and none around him knew that he\nwas dead.\n\nIt would astonish the reader--were they all narrated--the considerable\nundertakings which he conducted and carried through at the same time.\nHe was a great man of business, and had the management of heaven\nbeen consigned to him as a pleasure resort, he would have made it pay\neventually. He was an apostle, not an apostate, but his apostleship was\nof his own ideas. He was no apostate of his party. Had he been in the\ncelestial world when Lucifer revolted, Mr. Cowen might have aided Satan,\nfrom motives of resentment at being denied, by certain dissentient\ncherubim, ascendency himself. But he would never have joined the fallen\nangels, nor, as we have seen other politicians do, officially engage in\ntheir work, or identify himself with them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX. THE PERIL OF SCRUPLES\n\nAn outlaw is seldom considered a pleasant person, and naturally occupies\na dubious place in public estimation. His position is worse than that of\nan exile, who, if once allowed to return, is reinstated in society, but\nthe outlaw of opinion is never pardoned. Where justice turns upon the\nhinge of the oath, there is no redress for him who has scruples as to\ntaking it. He who has scruples exposes himself to unpleasant comments.\nHe is counted a sort of fastidious crank. All the while it is known that\na man without scruples is a knave, who respects nothing save his own\ninterests, and will do anything likely to promote them--even to the\ncommission of robbery or murder--as police-courts disclose. To be\nscrupulous is to be solicitous as to the rightfulness of a thing\nproposed to be done. It is plainly the interest of society to encourage\nthose who act upon honest scruples. Scruples may be trivial or\nunfounded--they may be open to objection on that account. Nevertheless,\nthe habit of being scrupulous is to be tolerated as conducive to\nintegrity, without which society would be insufferable. It is therefore\nnot desirable that perils should accompany scrupulousness, as I have\noften seen them do.\n\nThe obligatory oath has always been detrimental to public morality.\nWhen one oath was imposed on all persons, it was repugnant to their\nindividual sense of truth in many cases, and men, to protect their\ninterests, began to tamper with veracity, and invent new meanings of the\nterms of the oath. Thus the fortunate fastidiousness of truth is broken\ndown.\n\nThe Christian oath is an ecclesiastical device, framed in the\ninterest of the Church, to enforce, under penalty, the recognition and\nperpetuation of its tenets. He who takes the oath professes to believe\nthat if he breaks it \"God will blast his soul in hell for ever.\" This is\nthe old brutal, terrifying form in which the consequence was expressed.\nIt is softened now, to suit the secular humanity of the age, to\na statement that God will hold the oath-taker responsible for its\nfulfilment. But God's method of holding any one responsible, is by\nsentencing him to \"outer darkness,\" where there will be \"wailing and\ngnashing of teeth.\" A very unpleasant region to dwell in. There is no\ngood ground to suppose that such a sentence for such an offence would\nbe passed, but the intimidation is retained. Mr. Cluer, a London\nmagistrate, said lately that \"if the fate of Ananias befel all who swore\nfalsely in his court, the floor would be strewn with dead bodies.\"\nBut the courts fall back upon the pristine meaning of the oath. The\nmagistrate asks a little child, tendered as a witness, \"whether she\nknows, if she does not tell the truth, where she will go to?\" and\nwhether she \"has never heard of a place called hell or of its keeper,\nthe devil?\" If not, he publicly deplores the neglect of the child's\neducation, and declares her to be incapable of telling the truth. Every\none who took the oath, whether rich or poor, a philosopher or a\nfool, each professed to believe that the Great God of all the worlds,\nnotwithstanding the infinite business He has on hand, was personally\npresent in any dingy court when the oath-taker calls upon Him \"to\nwitness\" that he speaks the truth, and if not, God, who never forgets,\nburdens His celestial memory with that fact, with a view to eternal\nretaliation, in case the oath is false. He who takes the oath and does\nnot believe this, lies to begin with, whatever may be the character of\nhis testimony.\n\nTo take the oath in any other sense than that in which it is\nadministered to you, is to deceive the court.\n\n     \"He who imposes the oath, makes it.\n     Not he, who for convenience takes it.\"\n\nThe reliance on the part of those who impose the oath, is that he who\ntakes it believes the terms of it. If the taker takes it in a private\nsense of his own, the virtue has gone out of the oath, and the court is\ndeceived. If the Unitarian takes the oath, not believing in an avenging\nGod, he creates a new oath for himself, in which the compelling power\nof an eternal terror is absent. He, therefore, does not take the oath of\nthe court, but another of his own invention; and if he made known to\nthe court what he was doing, the court would not receive his testimony.\nPhilosophers, who have less belief than Unitarians, take the oath. But\nin the eye of morality it is not less discreditable--perhaps more so,\nfor the philosopher stands for absolute truth, while the Unitarian\nstands only for theological truth.\n\nThe trouble was that he who refuses to take the oath of the court, in\nthe sense of the court, became an outlaw, and that was a serious thing.\nI was myself an outlaw, until I was fifty-two years of age, without the\npower of obtaining redress where I was wronged, or of punishing fraud or\ntheft from which I suffered, or of protecting the life and property\nof others, where my evidence was required. My ambition was to be a\nbarrister, but legal friends assured me that the law turned upon the\nhinge of oath-taking, and that the path of the Bar would to me be a path\nof lying. It happens that I have never taken an oath. When I found\nthat my belief did not coincide with that implied by the oath, I felt\nprecluded from taking it.\n\nThis reluctance brought me peril. When the question of a Parliamentary\noath in Lord Randolph Churchill's days raged, a new doctrine was set\nup among some partisans of Freethought--that an Atheist might take the\noath. That meant there was no longer any distinction in terms, or any\nmeaning in principle. If an Atheist may, for the sake of some advantage\nbefore him, make a Christian profession, there is no reason why a\nChristian should not make an Atheistical profession if it answered his\npurpose. The apostles made quite a mistake by incurring martyrdom for\nconscience sake. Bruno, Servitus, and Tyndale need not have gone to the\nstake, had they only understood that the way to advance the truth was to\nabandon it, instead of standing to it. If a man is not to stand by the\ntruth when the consequences are against him, there is an end of truth as\na principle. It is no longer a duty to suffer for it and maintain it.\n\nIt seemed to me that the friends of reason, who rejected theological\ntenets, should be as scrupulous as to the truth as partisans of\nsuperstition have often proved themselves to be, and that the Atheist\nshould have as clear a sense of intellectual honour as the Quaker, the\nCatholic, or the Jew, who all suffered rather than take an oath contrary\nto their sense of truth. This was regarded as a reflection upon some\nexcellent colleagues of mine, who thought it fatuity to allow an oath to\nstand in their way, and frustrate their career.\n\nIt was brought against me that there were circumstances under which\nI should be as little scrupulous as other people. Major Bell, who had\nincurred great peril in India for the sake of honour, put a question\nto me in the Daily News purporting that, \"Had I married before 1837 I\nshould not have hesitated at twice invoking the Trinity as the Church\nservice required? And if I had done so, should I not have perpetrated a\npiece of hypocrisy?\" There is an immoral maxim that \"All things are fair\nin love and war,\" and it is probable that I should not have hesitated to\nperpetrate that \"piece of hypocrisy,\" as it would have been the lesser\nof two evils, but it would not, therefore, cease to be an evil. If under\nany compulsion of love or war I was induced to perpetrate \"apiece of\nhypocrisy,\" it would never occur to me to go about saying it was not\nhypocrisy. I dislike law, custom, or persons who force me to do what I\nknow to be wrong, but no person could do his worst against me, until he\nprevailed upon me to go about saying it was right.\n\nDr. Moncure Conway asked whether, if his life was in danger in China,\nand I could save it by the Chinese oath of breaking a saucer, I would\nnot do it? Certainly I would, to save Dr. Conway, if the Confucians\nwould permit me, but I should not the less deceive them by pretending\nto have sworn before them in the Chinese sense. But I should regret\nthe necessity, since in no country would I willingly treat truth as a\nsuperstition. By taking the \"saucer\" oath, I should obtain in Chinese\neyes a validity for my word not really belonging to it. However I might\nexcuse the act, it would still be deceit, nor ought it to be called by\nany other name. There is no virtuous vagueness in unveracity, and he who\nin peril uses it would not be justified in carrying it into common life,\nwhere Lord Bacon has warned us, \"Truth is so useful, that we should make\npublic note of any departure from that excellent habit.\" Major Evans\nBell further argued that because the Prince of Wales may sign himself my\n\"obedient, humble servant,\" while not feeling himself bound to act\nso, the terms of the oath may be likewise regarded as a form of words\nmerely. Yet all \"forms\" which are unreal are unwise and hurtful. But\nthe superscription of the Prince is known to be but a false form, and\naccepted as such, while the oath is a profession of faith. If the Prince\nwent into a public court and swore in the name of God that he really was\nmy \"obedient, humble servant,\" I should think him a very shabby Prince\nif the solemnity went for nothing. As I have known Major Bell expose\nhimself to what his friends believed to be fatal peril, from a noble\nsense of self-imposed duty, to which neither oath, nor contract, nor any\nconventional superscription called him, I no more imagine him than I did\nDr. Conway, to really mean what their arguments seemed to imply.\n\nSome are for the spirit more than the form. I was for both, and I regard\nall legislation as immoral which divorces them. Referring to these\nletters, the _Daily News_ (December 23, 1881) regarded them as \"marked\nby rectitude of moral judgment, which is recognised by those who most\ndeplore what they think is theological aberration. Some such testimony\nas he gives was almost needed to efface the impression which recent\nevents in and out of the House of Commons have made, that moral\nindifferentism is of necessity associated with religious negation.\"\nI was glad of those words at a time when I was fiercely assailed for\nsaying what I did, in the midst of the Parliamentary contest which then\noccupied the attention of the country. My object was to assist the right\nin the contest, and to defend the Free Thought cause. Had I not spoken\nthen, it would have been in vain to speak afterward. To be silent about\nprinciple in the hour of its application would have been fatal to its\ninfluence and repute, so far as it might be represented by me.\n\nAs far as in my power lay, I left no uncertainty in the mind of\nParliament as to what was wanted, in lieu of the oath. It was simply a\n\"promise of honour,\" to declare the truth in matters of testimony, and\nobserve good faith in contracts. One of my petitions to the House of\nCommons ran thus:--\n\n\"Your petitioner is a person who never took an oath, as it implied\ntheological convictions he did not hold. He, however, has seen persons\nof far greater knowledge than he possesses, of high social position and\nauthority, and whose example men look up to, take the oath, though it\nwas known to all that they held no belief corresponding thereunto--the\nopprobrium and outlawry attending the refusal of the oath being\nmore than they would incur. This has led to a practice of public\nprevarication, that of persons saying a thing and not meaning it, or\nmeaning something else. Nowhere is this example more disastrous than in\nyour High Assembly, where anything said is conspicuous and its example\ninfluential on the conduct of others.\"\n\nAnother petition so interested Professor J. E. Thorold Rogers, M.P. (who\nhad held holy orders), that he had copies made of it, and sent one with\na letter to each morning paper, saying he regarded it as expressing the\n\"quintessence of political morality.\" The petition set forth:--\n\n\"That it is at all times important that public declarations should be so\nexpressed that any one making them shall be able to say what he means,\nand mean what he says. In these days, when popular instruction is being\nadvanced by national schools, it is yet more desirable that no public\ndeclaration should be exacted, the terms of which are unmeaning or\nuntrue to those who make it, inasmuch as such declaration deteriorates\nthe wholesome habit of national veracity, and is of the nature of a\nfraud upon the public understanding, which becomes more repugnant as\ngeneral intelligence increases.\n\n\"Your petitioner respectfully submits that the present Parliamentary\noath is open to these objections so long as it is obligatory upon all\nmembers, irrespective of whatever personal and private beliefs they may\nhold.\n\n\"Your petitioner, therefore, prays, in the interests of public good\nfaith, that a form of affirmation may be adopted, optional to all\nmembers of Parliament, instead of the present ecclesiastical oath.\"\n\nFrancis Place once explained to me that in the Benthamite view, it was\nnot warrantable to incur martyrdom unless it was clear that the public\nwould be gainers by the martyr's loss. In a letter, Mr. J. S. Mill, in\nanswer to questions I put to him with regard to taking an oath, wrote:--\n\n\"I conceive that when a bad law has made the oath a condition to the\nperformance of a public duty, it may be taken without dishonesty by a\nperson who acknowledges no binding force in the religious part of the\nformality. Unless (as in your own case) he has made it the special and\nparticular work of his life to testify against such formalities, and\nagainst the belief with which they are connected.\"\n\nI could not concur with this view. Personal candour is far-reaching in\nits effects, and should be cherished where we can, and as far as we can.\nTruth is to the life of the mind what air is to the life of the body.\nWhen the mind ceases to breathe truth, the mind is impaired or dies.\n\nIt is necessary to add the grounds which actuated me in endeavours to\nput an end to the outlawry of opinion. Many beside myself helped to\nobtain a law of affirmation, but I was the only person among them all\nwho had never taken an oath. Sir George Cornewall Lewis demanded in\nParliament how the oath could be a vital grievance to Atheists, whose\nthroats were furrowed with swallowing it. When summoned on the grand\njury at Clerkenwell I refused to take the oath in the sense the court\nattached to it, and I was fined twelve guineas for not taking it. I drew\nup a paper showing the privileges given by the law to those who were\nhonestly unable to swear. They were exempted from the militia, from the\nduty of acting as special constable, they could procure the acquittal\nof any thief, fraudulent person, or murderer, where their evidence was\nnecessary to conviction. In some cases the thief has escaped, and the\nperson robbed has been imprisoned instead, for his contumacy in not\nlying. It became known among thieves that where they could find out a\nwitness against them, who disbelieved in an avenging God, the counsel\ndefending the thief had only to call the attention of the court to the\nfact for the witness to be ordered \"to stand down,\" and the thief would\n\"leave the court without a stain on his character.\" Mr. Francis, in\nhis \"History of the Bank of England,\" relates how Turner, whose fraud\namounted to L10,000, escaped, because the only witness who could swear\ndecidedly to his handwriting, was a disbeliever in the New Testament.\nThe jury returned a verdict of \"Not guilty.\"\n\nSir John Trelawny told me that the fly-leaves I published on the\n\"Privileges of Sceptics and the Immunity of Thieves\" made more\nimpression upon members of Parliament than any petition sent to the\nHouse. These and similar services, with my lifelong refusal to take the\noath, caused John Stuart Mill to write to me, saying: \"It is a great\ntriumph of freedom of opinion that the Evidence Bill should have passed\nboth Houses without being seriously impaired. You may justly take to\nyourself a good share of the credit of having brought things up to that\npass.\"*\n\nThese instances will no doubt satisfy the reader as to the peril of\nentertaining scruples in the face of power. The earliest instance which\nconcerned me was a case in Birmingham in which several thousand pounds\nwere left for the establishment of a secular school which I was to\nconduct. Not being willing to take the oath, I could not prosecute my\nclaim. When a son of mine was killed by the recklessness of a driver, I\ncould not give evidence on the inquest because I could not be sworn.\nMy private house was thrice robbed by servants who became aware of my\ninability to prosecute. When in business in Fleet Street, my property\ncould be carted away, for which I had no remedy save lying in wait and\nknocking down the depredators, which would at the Mansion House have led\nto a public scandal and injured the business. Money was left to me which\nI could not claim, being an outlaw.\n\n     *  Blackheath Park, Kent, August 8, 1869.\n\nIt would tire the reader to tell him all the instances of the perils\nattending scruples. Mr. Roebuck put the case in the House of Commons\nagainst Sir George Cornewall Lewis. Pointing his finger at Sir George,\nhe asked, \"What is the right honourable gentleman going to do? Two men\ngo into court. One disbelieves in the oath, but he takes it. The other\ntakes the peril of outlawry rather than profess a faith which he does\nnot hold. You believe the liar, whom you know to be a liar, and you\nreject the evidence of the man who speaks the truth at his peril.\" I had\nasked Mr. Roebuck to speak when the question of affirmation was before\nthe House. There were then only he, Sir John Trelawny, or Mr. Conyngham\nto whom such a question could be put It was upon Mr. Roebuck that I\nmostly relied. After his speech I thanked him for doing what no one else\ncould do so well. He disclaimed any desert of thanks, saying, \"I have\nonly done what Jeremy Bentham taught me.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX. TAKING SIDES\n\nEvery one of manly mind, every person of thought and determination,\ntakes sides upon important questions. Those who say they are indifferent\nwhich side prevails, are indifferent whether good or evil comes\nuppermost. Those who are afraid to choose a side, command only the cold\nrespect accorded to cowardice. Those who sit upon a fence to see which\nside is likely to prevail before they jump down, are not seeking the\nsuccess of a principle, but their own interests. In most questions--as\nin business--there is a side of honesty and a side of fraud. Some do\nnot take either separately, thinking they can better take both at\ndiscretion. If they profit by their dexterous duplicity, they command no\nregard. Some persons have no fervour for the right, and would rather see\nthe wrong prevail than take the trouble to prevent it. They would be on\nthe side of truth altogether if it gave them no discomfort, and caused\nthem no outlay. They belong to the large Laodicean lukewarm class, of\nwhom he who sought their allegiance said he would \"spue them out of his\nmouth.\" Not a pleasant simile, but it is not mine. It shows that no one\nis enthusiastic about those who are undecided where decision interferes\nwith advancement.\n\nIf the selfish, or the politic, or the supine do not care to take sides\nwith right, they have no cause to complain if the triumph of wrong\ninvolves them in discredit or disaster. But whatever be their fate, I am\nnot concerned with them. What I am concerned with is the omission of\nall information of what may follow to him who shall take the right side.\nThese consequences ought never to be out of sight.\n\nIt is too often forgotten that in this world virtue has its price as\nwell as vice, and neither can be bought cheap. Vice can be bought on\nthe \"hire system,\" by which a person gets into debt pleasantly--which\nintroduces shiftlessness into life. Wrong is a money-lender, whose\nconcealed charges and heavy interest have to be paid one day at the\nperil of ruin. Right doing may be said to pay as it goes along, which\nimplies conscience, effort, and often sacrifice of some immediate\npleasure. But independence lies that way, and no other. Right principle\nincurs no deferred obligation. Debt is a chain by which the debtor binds\nhimself to someone else. The connection may be disregarded, but the\nchain can never be broken, except by restitution. Many persons are\nbeguiled into doing right under the impression that it is as pleasant\nas doing wrong. This is not so, and the concealment of the fact has\ninjurious consequences. When a person who has been, as it were, betrayed\ninto virtue, without being instructed as to the inconvenience which\nmay attend it, when he encounters them, he suspects he has been imposed\nupon, and thinks he had better give vice a turn. It was this that made\nHuxley declare that the hardest as well as the most useful lesson a man\ncould learn, was to do that which he ought to do, whether he liked it\nor not. Character, which can be trusted, comes that way, and that way\nalone. He who enters on that path reaps reward daily in the pleasure and\nstrength which duty imparts, while sooner or later follow advantage and\nhonour. The most useful character George Eliot drew was that of Tito,\nwho was wrecked because he had no sense that there was strength and\nsafety in truth. The only strength he trusted to lay in his ingenuity\nand dissimulation. The world is pretty full of Titos, who all come to\none end, and nobody mourns them.\n\nA few instances may be relevantly given in which rightness has been\nattended by disadvantages, when wrongness appeared to have none--yet\nwrongness was found to bring great unpleasantness in the end.\n\nWhen there were petitions before the House of Commons to change the\noath which excluded Jews, and petitions to permit persons to make\naffirmations who had conscientious objections to taking an oath, it was\nrepresented to me that if both claims were kept before Parliament at the\nsame time both would be rejected. The Jewish claim was the older, and\nconcerned the enfranchisement of a race. I therefore caused the omission\nfor several years of any petition for affirmation--though my disability\nof being unable to take the oath excluded me from justice and rendered\nme an outlaw.\n\nWhen the Jews had obtained their relief, Sir Julian Goldsmid, a Jew,\nbecame a candidate at Brighton. Mr. Matthews, a political friend of mine\nin the town, went to Sir Julian and asked whether, as Mr. Holyoake and\nthose of his way of thinking had deferred their claim for affirmation\nthat the Jews might become eligible for Parliament, would he vote for\nthe Affirmation Bill? He said, \"No! he would not\" Mr. Matthews then\nwrote to ask me whether he and others who were in favour of Affirmation\nshould vote for Sir Julian. I answered, \"Certainly, if he in other\nrespects was the best candidate before the constituency. However\nstrongly we might be persuaded our own claim was just, we had no right\nto prefer it to the general interest of the State.\"\n\nSpeaking one night with Mr. John Morley when we both happened to be\nguests of Mr. Chamberlain at Highbury, Birmingham, I remarked that\nCobden and Bright, without intending it, had introduced more immorality\ninto politics than any other politicians in my time. Mr. Morley\nnaturally demanded to be informed when, and in what way. I answered,\n\"When they advised electors to vote for any candidate, irrespective\nof their political opinion, who would vote against the Corn Laws. This\nincited every party to vote for its own hand--the priest for the church,\nthe brewers for the barrel, and the teetotalers for the teapot, the\nanti-vaccinators for those who were against the lancet. Even women\nproposed to vote for any candidate who would give them the suffrage,\nregardless whether they put out a Ministry of Progress and put in a\nMinistry of Reaction. This was ignoring the general good in favour of a\npersonal measure. The error of the great Anti-Corn Law advocates lay in\ntheir not making it plain to the country that when the population were\ndeteriorating and dying from want of sufficient food, politics must give\nway to the claims of existence. That was the justification of Cobden and\nBright, and had it been stated, smaller politicians with narrower aims\ncould never then have pleaded their example for crowding the poll with\nrival claims in which the larger interests of the State are forgotten.\nLike Bacon's maxim that 'speaking the truth was so excellent a habit,\nthat any departure from that wholesome rule should be noted.' The\nAnti-Corn Law League election policy needed noting.\"\n\nHowever many instances may be given of the kind before the reader,\nthe moral will be the same. Taking sides involves some penalty which\nenthusiasts are apt to overlook, and when it arrives ruddy eagerness is\napt to turn pale and change into ignoble prudence. Taking the side of\nhonesty or fraud, unpleasantness may come. But on the side of right the\nconsciousness of integrity mitigates regret and commands respect; while\nthe penalties of deceit are intensified by shame and scorn. Many think\nthere is safety in a judicious mixture of good faith and bad, but\nwhen the bad is discerned, distrust and contempt are the unevadable\nconsequences. Besides, it takes more trouble to conceal a sinister life\nthan to act uprightly. It is true, an evil policy often succeeds, but\nthe interest of society is to take care that he who does evil shall\nbe overtaken by evil. As this sentiment grows, the chances of illicit\nsuccess continually decrease. Rascality--refined or coarse--would have\nfewer adherents if society took as much trouble to secure that the\nrightdoer shall prosper, as it takes to render the career of the knave\nprecarious.\n\nThe point of importance, I repeat, is--that persons should remember,\nor be taught to remember, that the course of right, like the course of\nwrong, is attended by consequences. Many who are honourably attracted by\nthe right are disappointed at finding that it has its duties as well as\nits pleasures--which, had they known at first, they would have made up\ntheir minds to do them; but not being apprised of them, when they first\nencounter inconvenience, they think they have been deceived, falter, and\nsometimes turn from a noble course upon which they had entered.\n\nAny one would think there was no great peril to be encountered by taking\nsides with veracity. Let him avoid the sin of pretension, and see what\nwill happen.\n\nThe sin I referred to is not the common one of declaring that to be true\nwhich you know to be untrue--that has long been known by an appropriate\nname, and does not require any new epithet to denote its scandalousness.\nThe sin of pretension in question consists in assuming, or declaring\nthat to be true, which one does not know to be true. Years ago this\nwas a very common sin, and everybody committed it. You heard it in the\npulpit more frequently than on the stage. Nobody complained of it, or\nrebuked it, or resented it. It was not until the middle of the last\ncentury that public attention was drawn to it. It was Huxley who first\nraised the question of intellectual veracity, and he devised the term\nAgnostic (which merely means limitation) to express it. Limitationism\ndoes not mean disbelief, but the limitation of assertion to actual\nknowledge. The theist used to declare--without misgiving--the absolute\ncertainty of the existence of an independent, active Entity, to whom\nNature is second-hand, and not much at that. The anti-theist--also\nwithout misgiving--denied that there was such separate Potentiality.\nThe Limitationist, more modest in averment, not having sufficient\ninformation to be positive, simply says he does not know. He does not\nsay that others may not have sufficient knowledge of a primal cause of\nthings; but lacking it himself, he concludes that veracity in statement\nmay be a virtue where omniscience is denied. There may be belief\nfounded on inference. But inference is not knowledge. The Limitationist\nwithholds assertion from lack of satisfying evidence. He is neutral--not\nbecause he wishes not to believe, or desires to deny, but because\nserious language should be measured by the standard of proof and\nconviction.\n\nSo strange did this precaution in speech seem in my time, that it\nwas believed that reticence was not honest precaution, but prudent\nconcealment of actual conviction, intended to evade orthodox anger.\nOn problems relating to infinite existence and an unknown future, it\nrequires infinite knowledge to give an affirmative answer. No one said\nhe had infinite information, but everybody declaimed as though he had.\nIt appeared not to have occurred to many that there was a state of the\nunderstanding in which lack of conviction was owing to lack of evidence.\nWhere the desire to believe is hereditary, it is difficult to realise\nthat there are questions upon which certainty may, to many minds, be\nunattainable, and that an honest man who felt this was bound to say so.\nAn American journal, which needed forbearance from its readers for\nits own heresy, published the opinion that Huxley was a \"dodger\" in\nphilosophy. Whereas Huxley was for integrity in thought and speech. He\nwas for scientific accuracy as far as attainable. His own outspokenness\nwas the glory of philosophy and science in his day. He never denied his\nconvictions; he never apologised for them; he never explained them away.\nIs it over his noble tomb that we are to write, \"Here lies a Dodger,\"\nbecause he invented an honest term to denote the measured knowledge of\nhonest thinkers? Dogmatism is not demonstration, but when I was young\nnobody seemed to suspect it. It used to be said that \"Darwin, Huxley,\nand Spencer were not really in a state of unknowingness concerning the\ngreat problem of the universe\"--which meant that these eminent thinkers,\nupon whose lives no shadow of unveracity ever rested, described\nthemselves as Limitationists when they were not so. They were not to\nbe believed upon their word. The term was a mask. Such are the social\npenalties for taking sides with veracity.\n\nThe public has begun to discover that veracity of speech is not a mask,\nbut a duty. None can calculate the calamities which arise in society\nfrom the perpetual misdirections disseminated by those who make\nassertions resting merely upon their inherited belief or prepossessions,\nwith no personal knowledge upon which they are founded. This is the sin\nof pretension, which recedes before the integrity of science and reason,\njust as wild beasts recede before the march of civilisation.\n\nFew would be prepared to believe that, in my polemical days, the desire\nto avoid committing the sin of pretension was supposed to indicate\ndesperation of character, of which suicide would be the natural end.\nThis was a favourite argument, for a heterodox principle was held to be\nfor ever confuted, if he who held it hanged himself. The best proclaimed\nchampion of orthodox tenets, whom I met on many platforms, went about\ndeclaring that I intended suicide, and it was generally believed that\nI had committed it. The certainty of it, sooner or later, was little\ndoubted, whereas it was not at all in my way.\n\nThe suicide of Eugene Aram, to escape the ignominy of an inevitable\nexecution, is intelligible. If Blanco White, whose dying and hopeless\nsufferings excited the sympathy even of Cardinal Newman, had done the\nsame thing, it would have been condonable. Suicide proceeding from\ndisease of the mind is always pitiable. When Italian prisoners were\ngiven belladonna by their Austrian gaolers, to cause them to betray,\nunconsciously, their comrades, some committed suicide to prevent this,\nwhich was honourable though deplorable. When a murderer, knowing his\ndesert, becomes his own executioner, he is not censurable though\nstill infamous, since it saves society the expense of terminating his\ndangerous career. But in other cases, self-slaughter, to avoid trouble\nor the performance of inconvenient duty, is cowardly and detestable.\n\nIn my controversial days (which I hope are not yet ended) the clergy did\nnot hesitate to say that if a man began to think for himself, he would\nend by killing himself.\n\nWhen I thought the doctrine had died out, an instance recurred which led\nme to address the following letter to the Rev. R. P. Downes, LLD. (May\n18, 1899), who thought the doctrine valid:--\n\n\"Dear Dr. Downes,--It has been reported to me that in Wesley Place\nChapel, Tunstall (March 20, 1899), you, when preaching on the 'Roots of\nUnbelief,' illustrated that troublesome subject by saying that 'when Mr.\nHolyoake was imprisoned at Birmingham, he attempted suicide.' This\nis not true, nor was it in Birmingham, but in Gloucester where the\nimprisonment occurred. I never attempted suicide--it was never in my\nmind to do it. I had no motive that way. I experienced no moment of\ndespair. Better men than I had been imprisoned before, for being so\nimprudent as to protest against intolerance and error. Besides, I never\nliked suicide. I was always against it Blowing out your brains makes an\nill-conditioned splatter. Cutting your throat is a detestable want\nof consideration for those who have to efface the stains. Drowning is\ndisagreeable, as the water is cold and not clean. Hanging is mean and\nignominious, and I have always heard unpleasant The French charcoal plan\nmakes you sick. Indeed, every form of suicide shows want of taste; and\nworse than that, it is a cowardly thing to flee from evils you ought to\ncombat, and leave others, whom you may be bound to cherish and protect,\nto struggle unaided. So you see what you allege against me is not only\nirrelevant--it implies defect of taste, which is serious in the eyes of\nsociety, which will condone crime more readily than vulgarity.\n\n\"I am against your discourse because of its bad taste. Suicide is\nno argument against the truth of belief. Christians are continually\ncommitting it, and clergymen also. The Society for the Propagation of\nChristian Knowledge used to bring this argument from suicide forward in\ntheir tracts against heresy. But being educated gentlemen they abandoned\nit long ago, and it is now only used by the lower class of preachers. I\ndo not mean to suggest that you belong to that class--only that you have\ncondescended to use an argument peculiar to uncultivated reasoners.\n\n\"Personally, I have great respect for several eminent preachers of\nWesleyan persuasion, but they think it necessary to inquire into the\ntruth of an accusation before they make it You must have borrowed yours\nfrom the Rev. Brewin Grant, with whom in his last illness I had friendly\ncommunications, and he had long ceased to repeat what he said in days\nwhen it was not thought necessary to be exact in imputations against\nadversaries.\n\n\"I do not remember to have written before in refutation of the statement\nyou made. No one who knows me would believe it for a moment; but as you\nare a responsible, and I understand a well-regarded, preacher, I inform\nyou of the error, especially as it gives me the opportunity of putting\non record not only my disinclination, but my dislike and contempt for\nsuicide, and for those who, not being hopelessly diseased or insane,\ncommit it.\"\n\n\nDr. Downes sent me a gentlemanly and candid letter, owning that the\nRev. Brewin Grant, B.A., was the authority on which he spoke, whose\nrepresentations he would not repeat, and I have reason to believe he has\nnot.\n\nSuch are the vicissitudes of taking sides. He has to pay who takes the\nright, but he has honour in the end. But he pays more who takes the\nwrong side consciously, and with it comes infamy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI. THINGS WHICH WENT AS THEY WOULD\n\nI commence with Judge Hughes' first candidature. There are cases in\nwhich gratitude is submerged by prejudice, even among the cultivated\nclasses. There was Thomas Hughes, whose statue has been deservedly\nerected in Rugby. Three years before he became a member of Parliament\nI told him he might enter the House were he so minded. And when\nopportunity arose I was able to confirm my assurance.\n\nOne Friday afternoon in 1865 some Lambeth politicians of the middle and\nworking classes, whom Bernal Osborne had disappointed of being their\ncandidate (a vacancy having attracted him elsewhere), came to me at the\nHouse of Commons to inquire if I could suggest one to them. I named\nMr. Hughes as a good fighting candidate, who had sympathy with working\npeople, and who, being honest, could be trusted in what he promised, and\nbeing an athlete, could, like Feargus O'Connor, be depended upon on a\nturbulent platform. I was to see Mr. Hughes at once, which I did, and\nafter much argument satisfied him that if he took the \"occasion by the\nhand\" he might succeed. He said, \"he must first consult Sally\"--meaning\nMrs. Hughes. I had heard him sing \"Sally in our Alley,\" and took his\nremark as a playful allusion to his wife as the heroine of the song.\nThat he might be under no illusion, I suggested that he should not enter\nupon the contest unless he was prepared to lose L1,000.\n\nThe next morning he consented. I took him to my friends of the Electoral\nCommittee, by whom he was accepted. When he entered the vestibule of\nthe hall of meeting I left him, lest my known opinions on other subjects\nshould compromise him in the minds of some electors. This was on the\nSaturday afternoon. I saw that by issuing an address in the Monday\nmorning papers he would be first in the field. On Sunday morning,\ntherefore, I waited for him at the Vere Street Church door, where the\nRev. F. D. Maurice preached, to ask him to write at once his address\nto the electors. He thought more of his soul than of his success, and\nreluctantly complied with my request. His candidature might prevent a\nTory member being elected, and the labours of the Liberal electors for\nyears being rendered futile, education put back, the Liberal Association\ndiscouraged, taxation of the people increased, and the moral and\npolitical deterioration of the borough ensue. To avert all such evils\nthe candidate was loath to peril his salvation for an hour. Yet would\nit not have been a work of human holiness to do it, which would make\nhis soul better worth saving? That day I had lunch at his table in Park\nLane, while he thought the matter over. That was the first and last time\nI was asked to his house. That afternoon he brought the address to my\nhome, then known as Dymoke Lodge, Oval Road, Regent's Park, and had tea\nwith my family. I had collected several persons in another room ready to\nmake copies of the address.\n\nI wrote letters to various editors, took a cab, and left a copy of the\naddress myself, before ten o'clock, at the offices of all the chief\nnewspapers published on Monday morning. The editor of the _Daily News_\nand one or two others I saw personally. All printed the address as news,\nfree of expense. Next morning the Liberal electors were amazed to\nsee their candidate \"first in the field\" before any other had time to\nappear. All the while I knew Mr. Hughes would vote against three things\nwhich I valued, and in favour of which I had written and spoken. He\nwould vote against the ballot, against opening picture galleries and\nmuseums on Sunday, and against the separation of the Church from the\nState. But on the whole he was calculated to promote the interests of\nthe country, and therefore I did what I could to promote his election.\n\nI wrote for the election two or three bills. The following is one:--\n\n     HUGHES  FOR  LAMBETH.\n\n     Vote for \"Tom Brown.\"\n\n     Vote   for a Gentleman who is a friend of  the People.\n\n     Vote  for a  Churchman who will   do justice   to\n     Dissenters.\n\n     Vote for a tried Politician who will support just measures\n     and can give sensible reasons for them.\n\n     Vote for   a   distinguished writer   and   raise   the\n     character of metropolitan constituencies.\n\n     Vote for a candidate who can defend your cause in the Press\n     as well as in Parliament\n\n     Vote for a man known to be honest and who has long worked\n     for the industrious classes.\n\n     Electors of Lambeth,\n\n     Vote for Thomas Hughes.\n\n\nMr. Hughes would have had no address out but for me. Had he spent L100\nin advertisements a day or two later he could not have purchased the\nadvantage this promptitude gave him. I worked very hard all that Sunday,\na son and daughter helping--but our souls did not count Two weeks went\nby--during which I ceaselessly promulgated his candidature--and I heard\nnothing from the candidate. As I had paid the emergency expenses of the\nSunday copyists, found them refreshments while they wrote, and paid for\nthe cab on its round to the offices, I found myself L2 \"out of pocket,\"\nas lawyers put it, and I sent a note to Mr. Hughes to say that amount\nwould cover costs incurred. He replied in a curt note saying I should\n\"find a cheque for L2 within\"--giving me the impression that he regarded\nit as an extortion, which he thought it better to submit to than resent.\nHe never thanked me, then or at any time, for what I did. Never in all\nhis life did he refer to the service I had rendered him.\n\nA number of friends were invited to Great Ormond Street College to\ncelebrate his election, but I was not one. This was not handsome\ntreatment, but I thought little of it. It was not Mr. Hughes's natural,\nbut his ecclesiastical self. I withstood him and his friends, the\nChristian Socialists, who sought to colour Co-operation with Church\ntenets, which would put distraction into it. Association with me was at\nthat time repugnant to Mr. Hughes. Nevertheless, I continued to serve\nhim whenever I could. He was a friend of Co-operation, to his cost,\nand was true to the Liberal interests of the people. My daughter, Mrs.\nPraill, and her husband gave their house as a committee-room when Mr.\nHughes was subsequently a candidate in Marylebone, and she canvassed for\nhim so assiduously that he paid her a special visit of acknowledgment.\n\nThe Christian Socialist propaganda is another instance of the wilfulness\nof things which went as you did not want them to go. In those days\nnot only did I fail to find favour in the eyes of Mr. Hughes--even Mr.\nVansittart Neale, the most liberal of Christian Socialists, thought me,\nfor some years, an unengaging colleague. General Maurice, in the Life of\nhis eminent father (Professor Denison Maurice), relates that Mr. Maurice\nregarded me as an antagonist. This was never so. I had always respect\nfor Professor Maurice because of his theological liberality. He believed\nthat perdition was limited to aeons. The duration of an aeon he was not\nclear upon; but whatever its length, it was then an unusual and merciful\nlimitation of eternal torture. This cost him his Professorship at\nKing's College, through the enmity, it was said, of Professor Jelf. I\nendeavoured to avenge Professor Maurice by dedicating to Dr. Jelf my\n\"Limits of Atheism.\" Elsewhere I assailed him because I had honour for\nProfessor Maurice, for his powerful friendship to Co-operation. When the\nnews of his death came to the Bolton Congress it was I who drew up and\nproposed the resolution of honour and sorrow which we passed.\n\nIt was always the complaint against the early \"Socialists\"--as the\nCo-operators were then called--that they mixed up polemical controversy\nwith social advocacy. The Christian Socialists strenuously made this\nobjection, yet all the while they were seeking to do the same thing.\nWhat they rightly objected to was that the chief Co-operators gave\nirrelevant prominence to the alien question of theology, and repelled\nall persons who differed from them.\n\nAll the while, what they objected to was not theology, but to a kind\nof theology not their own, and this kind, as soon as they acquired\nauthority, they proceeded to introduce. They proceeded to compile a\nhandbook intended to pledge the Co-operators to the Church of England,\nand I received proofs, which I still have, in which Mr. Hughes made\nan attack on all persons of Freethinking views. I objected to this\nas violating the principle on which we had long agreed, namely, of\nCo-operative neutrality in religion* and politics, as their introduction\nwas the signal of disputation which diverted the attention of members\nfrom the advancement of Co-operation in life, trade, and labour. At\nthe Leeds Congress I maintained that the congress was like Parliament,\nwhere, as Canning said, no question is introduced which cannot be\ndiscussed. If Church views were imported into the societies, Heretics\nand Nonconformists, who were the originators of the movement, would have\nthe right of introducing. Personally, I preferred controversy _outside_\nCo-operation. Their tenets. Mr. Hughes was so indignant at my protest\nthat he, being in the chair, refused to call upon me to move a\nresolution officially assigned to me upon another subject. At the\nmeeting of the United Board for revising motions to be brought before\nCongress, I gave notice that if the Church question should be raised\nI should object to it, as it would then be in order (should the\nintroduction of theology be sanctioned) for an Atheist (Agnostic was\nnot a current word then) to propose the adoption of his views, and an\nAtheist, as such, might be a president. Whereupon Mr. Vansittart Neale,\nour general secretary, declared with impassioned vehemence that he hoped\nthe day would never come when an Atheist would be elected president.\nYet when, some years later, I was appointed president of the Carlisle\nCongress (1887)--though I was still considered entirely deficient in\nproper theological convictions--Mr. Hughes and Mr. Neale, who were both\npresent, were most genial, and with their concurrence 100,000 copies of\nmy address were printed--a distinction which befel no other president.\n\nIn another instance I had to withstand Church ascendancy.\n\nI was the earliest and foremost advocate of the neutrality of\npious opinion in Co-operation; when others who knew its value were\nsilent--afraid or unwilling to give pain to the Christian Socialists,\nwhom we all respected, and to whom we were all indebted for legal and\nfriendly assistance.\n\nBut integrity of principle is higher than friendship. Some Northumbrian\nsocieties, whose members were largely Nonconformists, were greatly\nindignant at the attempt to give ascendancy to Church opinions, and\nvolunteered to support my protest against it But when the day of protest\ncame at the Leeds Congress they all deserted me--not one raised a voice\non my side; though they saw me browbeaten in their interest My argument\nwas, that if we assented to become a Church party we might come to have\nour proceedings opened with a collect, or by prayer, to which it would\nbe hypocrisy in many to pretend to assent. At the following Derby\nCongress this came to pass: Bishop Southwell, who opened the Industrial\nExhibition, made a prayer and members of the United Board knelt round\nhim. I was the only one who stood up, it being the only seemly form\nof protest there. This scene was never afterwards repeated. Bishop\nSouthwell was a devout, kindly, and intellectually liberal prelate,\nbut he did not know, or did not respect, as other Bishops did, the\nneutrality of Congress.\n\nFor myself, I was always in favour of the individuality of the religious\nconscience in its proper place. I love the picturesqueness of personal\nconviction. It was I who first proposed that we should accept offers\nof sermons on Congress Sunday by ministers of every denomination.\nCo-operators included members of all religious persuasions, and I\nwas for their opportunity of hearing favourite preachers apart from\nCo-operative proceedings.\n\nIt is only necessary for the moral of these instances to pursue them.\nThere is education in them and public suggestiveness which may justify\nthe continuance of the subject.\n\nWhen the _Co-operative News_ was begun in Manchester (1871), I wrote its\nearly leaders, and as its prospects were not hopeful, it was agreed that\nthe _Social Economist_, which I and Mr. E. O. Greening had established\nin London in 1868, should cease in favour of the _Co-operative News_,\nas we wished to see one paper, one interest, and one party. As the\nManchester office was too poor to purchase our journal, we agreed that\nit should be paid for when the Manchester paper succeeded, and the price\nshould be what the cessation of the _Social Economist_ should be thought\nto be worth to the new paper. It was sixteen years before the fulfilment\nof their side of the bargain. The award, if I remember rightly, was\nL15, but I know the period was as long and the amount as small. The\n_Co-operative News_ had then been established many years. It was worth\nmuch more than L100 to the Manchester paper to have a London rival\nout of the way. It was not an encouraging transaction, and but for Mr.\nNeale, Abraham Greenwood and Mr. Crabtree it would not have ended as\nit did. But the committee were workmen without knowledge of literary\nmatters. So I made no complaint, and worked with them and for their\npaper all the same. It was a mistake to discontinue the _Social\nEconomist_, which had some powerful friends. Co-operation was soon\nnarrowed in Manchester. Co-operative workshops were excluded from\nparticipation in profit. We should have kept Co-operation on a higher\nlevel in London.\n\nThe Rochdale Jubilee is the last instance I shall cite. In 1892 was\ncelebrated the jubilee of the Rochdale Society. I received no invitation\nand no official notice. The handbook published by the society, in\ncommemoration of its fifty years' success, made no reference to me nor\nto the services I had rendered the society. I had written its history,\nwhich had been printed in America, and translated into the chief\nlanguages of Europe--in Spain, in Hungary, several times in France and\nItaly. I had put the name of the Pioneers into the mouth of the world,\nyet my name was never mentioned by any one. Speaking on the part of the\nRochdale Co-operators, the President of Jubilee Congress, who knew\nthe facts of my devotion to the reputation of Rochdale, was silent.\nArchdeacon Wilson was the only one who showed me public regard. The\nlocal press said some gracious things, but they were not Co-operators.\nI had spoken at the graves of the men who had made the fortunes of the\nstore, and had written words of honour of all the political leaders of\nthe town, and of those best remembered in connection with the famous\nsociety, which I had vindicated, without ceasing, during half a century.\n\nIn the earlier struggles of the Pioneers I had looked forward to the day\nof their jubilee, when I should stand in their regard as I had done\nin their day of need. Of course, this gave me a little concern to\nfind myself treated as one unknown to them. But in truth they had not\nforgotten me, though they ignored me. The new generation of Co-operators\nhad abandoned, to Mr. Bright's regret, participation of profit with\nLabour, the noblest aspiration of the Pioneers. I had addressed them in\nremonstrance, in the language of Lord Byron, who was Lord of the Manor\nof Rochdale:--\n\n     \"You have the Rochdale store as yet,\n     Where has the Rochdale workshop gone?\n     Of two such lessons why forget\n     The nobler and the manlier one?\"\n\nSaying this cost me their cordiality and their gratitude; but I cared\nfor the principle and for the future, and was consoled.\n\nIn every party, the men who made it great die, and leave no immediate\nsuccessors. But in time their example recreates them. But at the Jubilee\nof 1892, they had not re-appeared, and those who had memories and\ngratitude were dead. I spoke over the grave of Cooper, of Smithies, of\nThomas Livesey--John Bright's schoolfellow--the great friend of the dead\nPioneers saying:--\n\n     \"They are gone, the holy ones,\n     Who trod with me this lovely vale;\n     My old star-bright companions\n     Are silent, low and pale.\"*\n\nThe question arises, does this kind of experience justify a person in\ndeserting his party?\n\nThe last incident and others preceding it are given as instances of\noutrage or neglect, which in public life explain ignominious desertion\nof principle. I have known men change sides in Parliament because the\nPremier, who had defect of sight, passed them by in the lobby without\nrecognition. I have seen others desert a party, which they had\nbrilliantly served, because their personal ambition had not been\nrecognised. Because of this I have seen a man turn heels over head in\nthe presence of Parliament, and land himself in the laps of adversaries\nwho had been kicking him all his life.\n\nIf I did not do so, it was because I remembered that parties are like\npersons, who at one time do mean things, but at other times generous\nthings.\n\n     * \"History of Rochdale Pioneers, 1844-1892\" (Sonnenschein).\n\nBesides, a democratic party is continually changing in its component\nmembers, and many come to act in the name of the movement who are\nignorant of its earlier history and of the obligation it may be under\nto those who have served it in its struggling days. But whether affronts\nare consciously given or not, they do not count where allegiance to a\ncause is concerned. Ingratitude does not invalidate a true principle.\nWhen contrary winds blow, a fair-weather partisan tacks about, and will\neven sail into a different sea where the breezes are more complacent. I\nremained the friend of the cause alike in summer and winter, not because\nI was insensible to vicissitudes, but because it was a simple duty to\nremain true to a principle whose integrity was not and could not\nbe affected by the caprice, the meanness, the obliviousness, or the\nmalignity of its followers.\n\nSuch are some of the incidents--of which others of more public interest\nmay be given--of the nature of bygones which have instruction in them.\nThey are not peculiar to any party. They occur continually in Parliament\nand in the Church. I have seen persons who had rendered costly service\nof long duration who, by some act of ingratitude on the part of the few,\nhave turned against the whole class, which shows that, consciously or\nunconsciously, it was self-recognition they sought, or most cared for,\nrather than the service of the principle they had espoused.\n\nThere is no security for the permanence of public effort, save in the\nclear conviction of its intrinsic rightfulness and conduciveness to the\npublic good. The rest must be left to time and posterity. True, the debt\nis sometimes paid after the creditor is dead. But if reparation never\ncomes to the living, unknown persons whose condition needs betterment\nreceive it, and that is the proud and consoling thought of those\nwho--unrequited--effected it. The wholesome policy of persistence is\nexpressed in the noble maxim of Helvetius to which John Morley has given\nnew currency: \"Love men, but do not expect too much from them.\"\n\nFewer persons would fall into despair if their anticipations were, like\na commercial company, \"limited.\" Many men expect in others perfection,\nwho make no conspicuous contribution themselves to the sum of that\nexcellent attribute.\n\n\"Giving too little and asking too much Is not alone a fault of the\nDutch.\"\n\nI do not disguise that standing by Rightness is an onerous duty. It is\nas much a merit as it is a distinction to have been, at any time, in\nthe employ of Truth. But Truth, though an illustrious, is an exacting\nmistress, and that is why so many people who enter her service soon give\nnotice to leave.\n\n     [With respect to this chapter, Mr. Ludlow wrote supplying\n     some particulars regarding the Christian Socialists, to\n     which it is due to him that equal publicity be given. He\n     states \"that the first Council of Promoters included two\n     members, neither of whom professed to be a Christian; that\n     the first secretary of the Society for Promoting Working\n     Men's Associations was not one, during the whole of his\n     faithful service (he became one twenty years later), and\n     that his successors were, at the time we took them on, one\n     an Agnostic, the other a strong Congregationalist.\" This is\n     the first time these facts have been made known. But none of\n     the persons thus described had anything to do with the\n     production of the Handbook referred to and discussed at the\n     Leeds Congress of 1881. Quite apart from the theological\n     tendencies of the \"Christian Socialists,\" the Co-operative\n     movement has been indebted to them for organisation and\n     invaluable counsel, as I have never ceased to say. They were\n     all for the participation of profits in workshops, which is\n     the essential part of higher Co-operation. There was always\n     light in their speeches, and it was the light of principle.\n     In this respect Mr. Ludlow was the first, as he is the last\n     to display it, as he alone survives that distinguished band.\n     Of Mr. Edward Vansittart Neale I have unmeasured admiration\n     and regard. To use the fine saying of Abd-el-Kader,\n     \"Benefits   conferred   are   golden fetters which bind men\n     of noble mind to the giver.\" This is the lasting sentiment\n     of the most experienced Co-operators towards the Christian\n     Socialists.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII. STORY OF THE LAMBETH PALACE GROUNDS\n\nSeed sown upon the waters, we are told, may bring forth fruit after\nmany days. This chapter tells the story of seed sown on very stony soil,\nwhich brought forth fruit twenty-five years later.\n\nIn 1878, Mr. George Anderson, an eminent consulting gas engineer, in\nwhom business had not abated human sympathy, passed every morning on his\nway to his chambers in Westminster, by the Lambeth Palace grounds. He\nwas struck by the contrast of the spacious and idle acres adjoining\nthe Palace and the narrow, dismal streets where poor children peered in\ncorners and alleys. The sheep in the Palace grounds were fat and florid,\nand the children in the street were lean and pallid. The smoke from\nworks around dyed dark the fleece of the sheep.\n\nMr. Anderson thought how much happier a sight it would be to see the\nchildren take the place of the sheep, and asked me if something could\nnot be done.\n\nThe difficulty of rescuing or of alienating nine acres of land from the\nChurch, so skilled in holding, did not seem a hopeful undertaking, while\nthe resentment of good vicars and expectant curates might surely be\ncounted upon. Nevertheless the attempt was worth making.\n\nBefore long I spent portions of some days in exploring the Palace\ngrounds, and interviewing persons who had evidence to give, or interest\nto use, on behalf of a change which seemed so desirable.\n\nEventually I brought the matter before a meeting I knew to be interested\nin ethical improvement, and read to them the draft of a memorial that I\nthought ought to be sent to the Archbishop at Lambeth Palace. Persons\nin stations low and high alike, often suffer wrong to exist which they\nmight arrest, because they have not seen it to be wrong or have not been\ntold that it is so. Blame of any one could not be justly expressed who\nhad not personal knowledge of an evil complained of. Therefore I\nurged that we should give the Archbishop information which we thought\njustified his action, and I was authorised to send to him the memorial I\nhad read.\n\nI wrote myself to his Grace, stating that I could testify as to\nthe social facts detailed in the memorial I enclosed, which was as\nfollows:--\n\n\"May it please your Grace,--We, the evening congregation assembled in\nSouth Place Chapel, Finsbury--some assenting and some dissenting from\nthe tenets represented by your Grace--represented as worthily as by any\none who has occupied your high station, and with greater fairness to\nthose who stand outside the Church than is shown by many prelates--we\npray your Grace to give heed to a secular plea on behalf of certain\nlittle neighbours of yours whom, amid the pressure of spiritual duties,\nyour Grace may have overlooked.\n\n\"Crouching under the very walls of Lambeth Palace, where your Grace has\nthe pleasant responsibility of illustrating the opulence and paternal\nsympathy of the legal Church of the land, lie streets as dismal,\ncheerless, and discreditable as any that God in His wrath ever permitted\nto remain unconsumed. In the houses are polluted air, squalor, dirt and\npale-faced children. The only green thing upon which their feverish eyes\ncould look is enclosed in your Grace's Palace Park, and shut out from\ntheir sight by dead walls. What we pray is that your Grace, in mercy and\nhumanity, will substitute for those penal walls some pervious palisades\nthrough which children may behold the refreshing paradise of Nature,\nthough they may never enter therein. In this ever-crowding metropolis,\nwhere field and tree belong to the extinct sights of a happier age,\nchildren are born and die without ever knowing their soothing charm,\nand hunger and thirst for a green thing to look upon--as sojourners in\na desert do for the sight of shrub or water. No prayer your Grace could\noffer to heaven would be so welcome in its kindly courts, as the prayer\nof gladness and gratitude which would go up with the screams of change\nand joy from the pallid little ones, breathing the fresh air from the\ngreen meadows, which only a few more fortunate sheep now enjoy.\n\n\"Might we pray that the gates should be open, and that the children\nthemselves should be free to enter the meadows? Even the Temple Gardens\nof the City are open to little friendless people. They who give this\ngracious permission are hard-souled lawyers, usually regarded as\nrepresenting the rigid, exacting, and unsympathetic side of human\nlife--yet they show such noble tenderness to the little miserables\nwho crawl round the Temple pavement, that they grant entrance to their\nsplendid gardens; and half-clad cellar urchins from the purlieus of\nDrury Lane and Clare Market romp with their ragged sisters on the\nglorious grass, in the sight and scent of beauteous flowers. If lawyers\ndo this, may we not ask it of one who is appointed to represent what\nwe are told is the kindliness and tenderness of Christianity, and whose\nMaster said, 'Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them\nnot, for of such is the kingdom of heaven'? We ask not that they should\npersonally approach your Grace, but that the children of your desolate\nneighbourhood should be allowed to disport in the vacant meadows of the\nPalace--that their souls may acquire some scent of Nature which their\nlives may never know.\n\n\"Let your Grace take a walk down 'Royal Street,' which flanks your\nPalace grounds, and see whether houses so pestilential ever stood in a\nstreet of so dainty a name? Go into the houses (as the writer of this\nmemorial has) and see how a blank wall has been kept up so that no\noccupant of the rooms may look on grass or tree, and the window which\nadmits light and air has been turned, by order of a former archbishop,\nthe opposite way upon an outlook as wretched as the lot of the\ninhabitants. For forty years many inmates have lived and slept by the\nside of your Grace's park, without ever being allowed a glimpse of it.\nYou may have no power to cancel such social outrage--but your Grace may.\ncondone it by kindly and considerately according the use of the meadows\nto the poor children--doomed to burrow in these close, unwholesome\ntenements at your doors.\n\n\"No one accuses your Grace of being wanting in personal kindliness. It\nmust be that no one has called your attention to the unregarded misery\nunder the shadow of your Palace. Should your Grace visit the forlorn\nstreets and sickly homes around you, and hear the despairing words of\nthe mothers when asked 'whether they would not be grateful could their\nchildren have a daily run in the great Archbishop's meadows?' there\nwould not be wanting a plea from the gentle heart of the Lady of the\nPalace on behalf of these hapless children of these poor mothers.\n\n\"Disregard not our appeal, we pray, because ours are unlicensed voices.\nHumanity is of every creed, and it will not detract from the glory of\nthe Church that gratitude and praise should proceed from unaccustomed\ntongues.\n\n\"Signed on behalf of the Assembly, with deference and respect.\n\n\"George Jacob Holyoake.\n\n\"Newcastle Chambers, Temple Bar,\n\n\"November 21, 1878.\"\n\n\nWithin two days I had the pleasure to receive a reply from the\nArchbishop.\n\n\"Philpstoun House,\n\n\"November 23, 1878.\n\n\"Sir,--You may feel confident that the subject of the memorial which\nyou have forwarded to me with your letter of the 21st will receive my\nattentive consideration. The condition of the inhabitants of the poor\nstreets in Lambeth has often given me anxiety. My daughters and Mrs.\nTait are well acquainted with many of the houses which you describe,\nand, so far as my other duties have allowed, I have taken opportunities\nof visiting some of the inmates of such houses personally. I should\nesteem it a great privilege if I were able to assist in maturing any\nscheme for improving the dwellings of the poor families to which your\nmemorial alludes. Respecting the use of the open ground which surrounds\nLambeth Palace, I have, in common with my predecessors, had the subject\noften under consideration. The plan which has been adopted and which has\nappeared on the whole the best for the interests of the neighbourhood,\nhas been that now pursued for many years. The ground is freely given for\ncricket and football to as many schools and clubs as it is capable of\ncontaining, and, on application, liberty of entrance is accorded to\nchildren and others. Many school treats are also held in the grounds,\nand they are from time to time used for volunteer corps to exercise in.\nWe have always been afraid that a more public opening of the grounds\nwould interfere with the useful purposes to which they are at present\nturned for the benefit of the neighbourhood, and that, considering the\nsomewhat limited extent of the space, no advantage could be secured by\nthrowing it entirely open, which would at all compensate for the loss\nof the advantages at present enjoyed. I shall give the matter serious\nconsideration, consulting with those best qualified from local\nexperience to judge what is best for the neighbourhood, but my present\nimpression is that more good is, on the whole, done by the arrangements\nnow adopted, than by any other which I could devise.\n\n\"I have the honour to be, Sir,\n\n\"Your obedient humble servant,\n\n\"A. C. Cantuar.\n\n\"To Mr. George Jacob Holyoake.\"\n\n\nThis correspondence I sent to the _Daily News_, always open to questions\nof interest to the people, and it received notice in various papers.\nThe _Liverpool Daily Mail_ gave an effective summary of the memorial,\nsaying:--\n\n\"Of all strange people in the world, Mr. G. J. Holyoake and the\nArchbishop of Canterbury have been in correspondence--and not in\nunfriendly correspondence either. Mr. Holyoake, on behalf of himself and\nsome friends like-minded, ventured to draw the Archbishop's attention to\nthe fact that just opposite Lambeth Palace was a nest of very poor and\nsqualid dwellings, in which many families were crowded together, without\nany regard for either decency or sanitary law. The only chance of\nlooking upon anything green that the children of these poor people could\nhave would be in the grounds that surround the Primate's dwelling, and\nthese were absolutely shut off from their view by a high dead wall. In\nsome cases a former Archbishop had actually ordered the windows of these\nmiserable houses to be blocked up, and opened in another direction, in\norder, we suppose, that the Archiepiscopal eyes might not be offended\nby the sight of such unpleasant neighbours.\" The writer ended by\nexpressing the hope that if the Archbishop could not open the grounds he\nmight substitute \"pervious palisades\" for the stone walls impervious to\nthe curious and wistful eyes of children. For reasons which will appear,\nthe subject slumbered for four years, when I addressed the following\nletter to the editors of the _Telegraph_ and the _Times_, which appeared\nDecember 20, 1882:--\n\n\"Sir,--On returning to England I read an announcement that the Lambeth\nVestry had resolved to send a memorial to the Queen praying that the\nnine acres of field, now devoted to sheep, adjoining the Archbishop of\nCanterbury's Palace garden, may be appropriated to public recreation in\nthat crowded and verdureless parish. Four years ago I sent a memorial\nupon this subject to the late Archbishop. It set forth that the parish\nwas so densely populated that it would be an act of mercy to throw open\nthe sheep fields to the poor children of the neighbourhood. It expressed\nthe hope that Mrs. Tait, whose compassionate nature was known to the\npeople, would plead for these little ones, who lived and died at her\nvery door, as it were, seeing no green thing during all their wretched\ndays. I visited poor women in the street next to the fields who brought\nfever-stricken children to the door wrapped in shawls. Their mothers\ntold me how glad they should be were the gates open, that the little\nones, whose only recreation ground was the gutter, could enter at will.\nThe memorial--if I remember accurately, for I cannot refer to it as I\nwrite--stated that the houses which, as built, overlooked the fields,\nhad had the windows bricked in by order of a former Archbishop, because\nthey overlooked the garden. I was taken to the rooms and found that the\nview was closed up. The trees of the garden have well grown now, and a\ntelescope could not reveal walkers therein. The late Archbishop sent me\na kindly reply, but it did not answer my question, which was that, if\nhis Grace could not consent to open the gates to his humble friends, we\nprayed that he, whose Master (in words of tenderness which had moved\nthe hearts of men during nineteen centuries) had said, 'Suffer little\nchildren to come unto Me,' would at least substitute palisades for the\ndead walls which hid the green fields so that no little eyes could see\nthe daisies in the spring. His Grace's reply was in substance the same\nas Dr. Randall Davidson's, which appeared in the _Times_ on Monday, who\ntells the public that rifle corps and cricketers are admitted to the\nfields and that 'arrangements are made for \"treats\" for infant and other\nschools' (whether of all denominations is not stated). How can poor\nmothers and sickly children get within these 'arrangements'? Cricketers\nare not helpless, rifle corps do not die for want of drill-grounds, as\nchildren in fever-dens do for want of the refreshment of verdure and\npure air. To open the gates is the only generous and fitting thing to\ndo, as the lawyers have who admit the outcasts of Drury and the adjacent\nlanes to the flowers of the Temple Gardens. Dr. Davidson says that the\nadvice of those 'best qualified from local experience to judge' is that\n'no gain could be secured by throwing the fields entirely open.' Let the\nopinion be asked of workmen in the Lambeth factories and that of their\nwives. These are the 'best qualified local judges,' whose verdict would\nbe instructive. Mrs. Tait's illness and death followed soon after the\nmemorial in question was sent in, and I thought it not the time to press\nhis Grace further when stricken with that calamity. All honour to the\nLambeth Vestry, which proposes to pray Her Majesty to cause, if in her\npower, these vacant fields to be consigned to the Board of Works, who\nwill give some gleam of a green paradise to the poor little ones of\nLambeth. The vestry does well to appeal to the Queen, from whose kindly\nheart a thousand acts of sympathy have emanated. She has opened many\nportals, but none through which happier or more grateful groups will\npass than through the garden gates of Lambeth Palace.\"\n\nImmediately a letter appeared in the _Times_ from the Rev. T. B.\nRobertson, expressed as follows:--\n\n\"Sir,--Mr. Holyoake may be glad to hear that 'Lambeth Green' is open to\nschools of all denominations to hold their festivals in. I should think\nthat no school was ever refused the use unless the field was previously\nengaged. The present method of utilising the field--viz., opening it to\na large but limited number of persons (by ticket) seems about the best\nthat could be devised. Mr. Holyoake asks how poor mothers and sickly\nchildren are to gain entrance. It is well known in the neighbourhood\nthat tickets of admission are issued annually. The days for distribution\nare advertised on the gates some time previous, when those desirous of\nusing the grounds can attend, and the tickets are issued till exhausted.\nNo sick person has any difficulty in getting admission. I do not know\nthe number of tickets issued, but I have seen when cricket clubs were\nunable to find a place to pitch their stumps. If the grounds are open\nto the public without limitation, it seems that the only way it could be\ndone would be by laying it out in gardens and gravelled walks, with the\nusual park seats; but there is hardly occasion for such a place since\nthe formation of the Thames Embankment, _a long strip of which runs\nimmediately in front of the Palace well provided with seats_. It is\nevident that if the grounds were open to the public in general, the\nspace being small--about seven acres--the cricketers and other clubs\nwould have to give up their sports, and Lambeth schools and societies\nwould be deprived of their only meeting-place for summer gatherings.\n\n\"Yours obediently,\n\n\"T. B. Robertson,\n\n\"Curate of St. Mary, Lambeth.\n\n\"December 22.\"\n\n\nThe comment of the _Times_ upon this letter made it necessary to address\na further communication to the editor. This comment occurred in a\nleader which, referring to a letter of the Lambeth Curate, says: \"Mr.\nHolyoake, in a letter which we published on Wednesday, asked with some\nvehemence, what was the value of permission accorded to cricketers and\nschools, to the poor children of Lambeth; but Mr. Robertson, the Curate\nof St. Mary's, Lambeth, answers this morning, that no poor or sick\nperson has any difficulty in obtaining admission for purposes of\nrecreation and health, and shows that 'Lambeth Green,' as it is called,\nis in fact available to a large class of the neighbouring inhabitants.\nThere is certainly force in Mr. Robertson's argument, that an unlimited\nuse would defeat its own object, which is presumably to preserve the\ngrounds as a playground. The large surrounding population would soon\ndestroy the sylvan and park-like character of the place, and necessitate\nits laying out in the style of an ornamental pleasure garden, with\nformal walks, and turf only to be kept green by fencing.\"\n\nThis is the old defence of exclusive enjoyment of parks and pleasure\ngrounds, as the people, if admitted to them, would destroy them--which\nthey do not. Why should they destroy what they value?\n\nMy reply to the _Times_ appeared December 28, 1882:--\n\n\"Sir,--It is the weight that you attach to the letter of the Curate of\nSt Mary, Lambeth, which appeared in the _Times_ of Saturday, which makes\nit important. When I have viewed the Lambeth Palace from the railway\nwhich overlooks it and seen how completely the sheep fields are separate\nand apart from the Archbishop's garden, it has seemed a pity that\nthe poor little children of Lambeth should not have the freedom and\nprivilege of those sheep. No humane person could look into the houses\nof the crowded and cheerless streets which lie near the Palace walls\nwithout wishing to take the children by the hand into the Palace fields\nat once. Does the Rev. Mr. Robertson not understand the difference\nbetween a ticket gate and an open gate? How are poor, busy women to\nwatch the gates to find out when the annual tickets of admission are\ngiven? And what is the chance of those families who arrive after 'the\nnumber issued is exhausted'? If all the persons who need admissions can\nhave them, the gates might as well be thrown open. Of course, the nine\nacres would not hold all the parish; but all the parish would not go at\nonce. No statement has been made which shows that the grounds have\nbeen occupied by tickets of admission more than forty days in the year,\nwhereas there are 365 days when little people might go in. To them\none hour in that green paradise would be more than a week jostled by\npassengers on the Embankment watching a stone wall, for the little\npeople could not well overlook it. But if they could, can the Curate of\nSt. Mary really think this limited recreation a sufficient substitute\nfor quiet fields and flowers? The Board of Works, if the grounds come\ninto their hands, may be trusted to give school treats a chance as well\nas local little children.\n\n\"No one who has seen the crowds of ragged, dreary, pale-faced boys\nand girls rushing to the fields and flowers at Temple Gardens when the\nlawyers graciously open the gates to them and watched them pour out at\nevening through the Temple Gates into Fleet Street, leaping, laughing,\nand refreshed, could help thinking that it would be a gladsome sight\nto see such groups issue from the Lambeth Palace gates. I never thought\nwhen sending the memorial to the Archbishop that the fields should be\ndivested from the see or sold away from it. I believed that the late\nArchbishop would, as the new Archbishop may, by an act of grace accord\nhis little neighbours free admission, or at least exchange the dead\nwalls for palisades, so that children playing around may vary the stones\nof the Embankment for a sight of sheep and grass through the bars. The\nlate Canon Kingsley asked me to visit him when he came into residence at\nWestminster. My intention was to ask him and the late Dean, whom I\nhad the honour to know, to judge themselves whether the matter now in\nquestion was not practicable, and then to speak to the Archbishop about\nit. But death carried them both away one after the other before this\nopportunity could occur. My belief remains unchanged that the late\nArchbishop would have done what is now asked had time and the state of\nhis health permitted him to attend to the matter himself. It would have\nbeen but an extension of the unselfish and kindly uses to which he had\nlong permitted the grounds to be put.\"\n\nFrom several letters I received at the time, I quote one dated Christmas\nEve, 1882:--\n\n\"Honour and thanks to you, Mr. Holyoake, for your recent and former\nletters respecting Lambeth Palace field. Very much more good could\nbe got out of it than as a place for cricketing on half-holidays and\noccasional school-treats, and for desolation at other times except as\nregards an approved few.\n\n\"There is no recreation ground in London that I look upon with so much\nsatisfaction as a triangular inclosure of plain grass by Kennington\nChurch, enjoyed commonly by the dirtiest and poorest children.\"\n\nBut a letter of a very different character appeared in the Standard,\nDecember 20, 1882, entitled, \"The Lambeth Palace Garden \":--\n\n\"Sir,--No right-minded person can fail to be deeply impressed by Mr.\nHolyoake's touching letter in your impression of to-day. Its sentiments\nare so very beautiful and its principles so exactly popular, and in such\nperfect accordance with the blessed Liberal maxim--'What is yours is\nmine and what is mine is my own,' that I myself am overcome with delight\nat their enunciation. The pleasure of being perfectly free and easy with\nother people's property, evidently becoming so sincere and abounding,\nand the simple manner in which such liberality can be now readily\npractised without any personal self-denial or inconvenience, makes the\nprinciple in action perfectly commendable, and one to be duly applied\nand most carefully expanded.\n\n\"With the latter view, I venture to point out that there is a very\nexcellent library of books at Lambeth Palace, which, comparatively\nspeaking, very few people take down or read. Do not, however, think\nme selfishly covetous or hankering after my neighbour's property if\nI venture to point out that there exist more than twenty clergymen in\nLambeth, to whom a share or division of these scarcely used volumes\nwould be a great boon. If the pictures, furniture, and cellars of wine\ncould, at the same time, be benevolently divided, I should have no\nobjection to receiving a share of the same under such philanthropic\n're-arrangement'--I am, sir, your obedient servant,\n\n\"A Lambeth Parson.\n\n\"Lambeth, December 20.\"\n\n\nMy reply to this letter appeared in the _Standard_, December 22, 1882:--\n\n\"Sir,--This morning I received a letter from a clergyman, who gives his\nname and address, and who knows Lambeth well, thanking me for the letter\nwhich I had addressed to you, as he takes great interest in the welfare\nof the little ones in the crowded homes around the Palace. Lest,\nhowever, I should be elated by such an unexpected, though welcome,\nconcurrence of opinion, the same post brought me a letter to the\nsame purport of that signed 'A Lambeth Parson,' which appeared in the\n_Standard_ yesterday. The letter which you printed assumes that the\nsheep fields of the Palace are private property, and that I propose to\nsteal them in the name of humanity. Permit me to say that I have as much\ndetestation as the Lambeth Parson can have for that sympathy for the\npeople which has plunder for its motive.\n\n\"The memorial I sent to his Grace the late Archbishop asked him to give\nhis permission for little ones to enter his grounds. We never proposed\nto take permission, nor assumed any right to pass the gates. There never\nwas a doubt in my mind, that had his Grace opportunity of looking into\nthe matter for himself, he would have granted the request, for his\nkindness of heart we all knew. That he gave the use of the fields to\nwhat he thought equally useful purposes showed how unselfishly he used\nthe grounds. If the question is raised as to private property, I would\ndo what I could to promote the purchase of it (if it can rightly be\nsold) by a penny subscription from the parents of the poor children\nand others who would chiefly benefit by it. It would be an evil day\nif working people could consent that their little ones should have\nenjoyment at the price of theft.--I am, sir, your obedient servant,\n\n\"George Jacob Holyoake.\n\n\"22, Essex Street, W.C., December 21.\"\n\n\nMeanwhile an important public body had taken up the question. \"The\nMetropolitan Public Garden, Boulevard, and Playground Association\" had,\nthrough its officers, Lord Brabazon, Mr. Ernest Hart, Mr. J. Tennant,\nand the Rev. Sidney Vatcher, addressed the following letter to the Prime\nMinister:--\n\n\"Sir,--The undersigned 'members of the Metropolitan Public Garden,\nBoulevard, and Playground Association' desire to draw your attention to\nan article enclosed which recently appeared in a London daily paper, and\nto request that you will bring the needs of Lambeth district, as regards\nopen spaces, to the notice of the future Primate, in the hope that\nhis Grace may take into consideration the suggestions contained in the\narticle, and with the co-operation of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners\nand the Metropolitan Board of Works, take such steps as may seem to him\nmost advisable for the purpose of securing in perpetuity to the poor and\ncrowded population of Lambeth the use and enjoyment of the open space\naround Lambeth Palace.--We have the honour to be, sir, your most\nobedient and humble servants,\n\n\"Brabazon, Chairman.\"\n\nMr. Gladstone willingly gave attention to the subject, and sent the\nfollowing reply:--\n\n\"10, Downing Street, Whitehall,\n\n\"_December_ 21, 1882.\n\n\"My Lord,--I am directed by Mr. Gladstone to acknowledge the receipt\nof the letter which was signed by your lordship and other members of the\nMetropolitan Public Garden, etc., Association in favour of securing for\nthe use of the population of the neighbourhood the grounds at present\nattached to Lambeth Palace. I have to inform your lordship that Mr.\nGladstone has already been in communication with the vestry of Lambeth\non this subject, and as it appears to be one of metropolitan improvement\nit is not a matter in which Mr. Gladstone can take the initiative.\nHe will, however, make known your views to the prelate designated to\nsucceed to the Archbishopric, and should the Metropolitan Board of Works\nintervene Mr. Gladstone will be happy to consider the matter further.--I\nam, my Lord, your obedient servant,\n\n\"Horace Seymour.\n\n\"The Lord Brabazon.\"\n\n\nNext Colonel Sir J. M'Garel Hogg, M.P., Chairman of the Metropolitan\nBoard of Works, had the matter before him. It was stated that the use of\nthe nine acres of ground (of which a plan was presented) depended upon\nthe permission of the Archbishop. The Lambeth Vestry had sent a memorial\nto the Queen and the Government saying that the pasture and recreation\nacres might be severed from the Archbishop's residence.\n\nThe following is the reply received from Mr. Gladstone:--\n\n\"10, Downing Street, Whitehall,\n\nDecember 1882,\n\n\"Sir,--Mr. Gladstone has had the honour to receive the communication\nwhich you have made to him on behalf of the vestry of the parish of\nLambeth on the subject of acquiring the grounds of Lambeth Palace as a\nplace of public recreation. In reply I am directed to say that as far as\nhe is able to understand this important matter it seems to be a case of\nmetropolitan improvement, and if, as he supposes, that is the case, the\nproper course for the vestry to take would be to bring the case before\nthe Metropolitan Board of Works for their consideration. In this view\nMr. Gladstone is not aware that Her Majesty's Government could undertake\nto interfere, but he will make known this correspondence to the person\nwho may be designated to succeed the Archbishop of Canterbury, and\nhe will further consider the matter should the Metropolitan Board\nintervene. Mr. Gladstone would have been glad if the vestry had supplied\nhim with the particulars of the case, in regard to which he has only a\nvery general knowledge.--I am, sir, your obedient servant,\n\n\"E. W. Hamilton.\n\n\"The Vestry Clerk of Lambeth.\"\n\n\nMr. Hill gave notice of the following motion:--\n\n\"That an instruction be given to the Prime Minister that if the proper\nauthorities are willing to hand over the Lambeth Palace grounds for the\nfree use of the public, this Board will accept the charge and preserve\nthe grounds as a portion of the open spaces.\"\n\nThen came a hopeless and defensive letter, before referred to, addressed\nboth to the _Standard, Telegraph_, and the _Times_:--\n\n\"Sir,--Some of the statements (including a correspondence with the\nPrime Minister) which have, during the last few days, appeared in the\nnewspapers with reference to Lambeth Palace grounds, would, I think,\nlead those who are unacquainted with the circumstances to suppose that\nthese grounds have been hitherto altogether closed to the public, and\nreserved for the sole use of the Archbishop and his household. Will\nyou, therefore, to prevent misapprehension, kindly allow me to state the\nfacts of the case?\n\n\"For many years past the Archbishop of Canterbury endeavoured, in what\nseemed to him the best way, to make the grounds in question available,\nunder certain restrictions, to the general public. During the summer\nmonths twenty-eight cricket clubs, some from the Lambeth parishes\nand some from other parts of London, have received permission to play\ncricket in the field, and similar arrangements have been made for\nfootball in the winter, though necessarily upon a smaller scale. The\nwhole available ground has been carefully allotted for the different\nhours of each day. On certain fixed occasions the field is used for\nrifle corps' drill and exercises, and throughout the summer,\narrangements are constantly made for 'treats' for infant and other\nschools unable to go out of London. Tickets giving admission to the\nfield at all hours have been issued for some years past, in very large\nnumbers, to the sick, aged, and poor of the surrounding streets; and the\nwhole grounds, including the private garden, have been opened without\nrestriction to the nurses and others of St. Thomas's Hospital.\n\n\"His Grace frequently consulted those best qualified from local\nexperience to judge what is for the advantage of the neighbourhood, and\ninvariably found their opinion to coincide with his own--namely, that\na more public opening of the ground would interfere with the useful\npurposes to which it is at present turned for the benefit of the\nneighbourhood, and that, considering the limited space, no gain could be\nsecured by throwing it entirely open which would at all compensate for\nthe inevitable loss of the advantages at present enjoyed.--I am, sir,\nyour obedient servant,\n\n\"Randall T. Davidson.\n\n\"Lambeth Palace, December 16.\"\n\n\nOn January 6, 1883, I wrote to the _Daily News_, saying:--\n\n\"Sir,--Your columns have recorded the steps taken by the Lambeth Vestry\nand by Lord Brabazon (on the part of the Open Space Society, for which\nhe acts) with respect to the use of the pasture acres connected with the\nPalace grounds of Lambeth. I have been asked by a clergyman, for whose\njudgment I have great respect, to write some letter which shall make it\nplain to the public that it is not the gardens of the Palace for the use\nof which any one has asked, but for the nine acres of fields outside\nthe gardens, as a small recreation ground which shall be open to the\nchildren of Lambeth, who are numerous there, and much in need of some\npleasant change of that scarce and pleasant kind. No one has dined at\nthe Lambeth Palace, or been otherwise a visitor there, without valuing\nthe gardens which surround it and which are necessary to an episcopal\nresidence in London. No one wishes to interfere with or curtail the\ngarden grounds. I thought the public understood this. I shall therefore\nbe obliged if you can insert this explanation in your columns. Much\nbetter than anything I could say upon the subject are the words which\noccur in the _Family Churchman_ of December 27th, which gives the\nportraits of the new Archbishop, Dr. Benson, and the late Bishop of\nLlandaff. The editor says that 'every one knows the Archbishops of\nCanterbury have a splendid country seat at Addington, within easy\ndriving distance of London. Within the same distance there are few parks\nso beautiful as Addington Palace, whilst, unlike some parks in other\nparts of the country, it is jealously closed against the public. The\nPalace park is remarkable for its romantic dells, filled with noble\ntrees and an undergrowth of rhododendrons. There are, moreover, within\nthe park, heights which command fine views of the surrounding country.\nIt is thought, perhaps not unjustly, that the new Archbishop might well\nbe content with this country place, and, whilst retaining the gardens\nat Lambeth Palace, might with graceful content see conceded to the poor,\nwhose houses throng the neighbourhood, the nine acres of pasture land.'\nThis is very distinct and even generous testimony on the part of the\n_Family Churchman_ to the seemliness and legitimacy of the plea put\nforward on the part of the little people of Lambeth.--Very faithfully\nyours,\n\n\"George Jacob Holyoake.\n\n\"22, Essex Street W.C.\"\n\n\nNews of the Palace grounds agitation reached as far as Mentone, and\nMr. R. French Blake, who was residing at the Hotel Splendide, sent\nan interesting letter to the _Times_--historical, defensive, and\nsuggestive. He wrote on January 3, 1883, saying:--\n\n\"Sir,--Attention having recently been drawn to the Lambeth Palace\ngrounds and the use which the late Primate made of them for the\nrecreation of the masses, it may be interesting, especially at this\njuncture, to place on record what were his views with regard to those\nhistoric parts of the buildings of the Palace itself which are not\nactually used as the residence of the Archbishops. These chiefly consist\nof what is known as the Lollards' Tower, and the noble Gate Tower,\ncalled after its founder, Archbishop Moreton. The former of these has\nrecently been put into repair, and rooms in it were granted to the late\nBishop of Lichfield and his brother, by virtue of their connection with\nthe Palace library.\"\n\nMr. Blake then adverts to the affair of the grounds. He says:--\n\n\"Nor can I suppose that any well-informed member of the vestry could\nimagine that it is in the lawful power of a Prime Minister, or even of\nParliament, to alienate, without consent, any portion of the Church's\ninheritance. It may be a somewhat high standard of right, which is\nreferred to in the sacred writings, to 'pay for the things which we\nnever took,' but in no standard of right whatsoever can the motto\nfind place to 'take the things for which we never pay.' Although the\nArchbishop may have deemed that he turned to the very best account the\nground in question, for the purposes of enjoyment and health to the\nsurrounding population, he was far too wise and too charitable to\ndisregard, so far as he deemed he had the power, any petition or request\nwhich might, if granted, add to the pleasure and happiness of others,\nand if it had been made clear to him as his duty, and an offer to\nthat effect had been made to him by the Metropolitan Board of Works or\nothers, I am satisfied he would have consented, not to the alienation of\nChurch property, but to the sale of the field for a people's park, and\nthe application of the value of the ground to mission purposes for South\nLondon, and such a scheme I happen to know was at one time discussed by\nsome of those most intimately connected with him.\"\n\nAfterwards, January 13, 1883, the _Pall Mall Gazette_ remarked that \"it\nis not a happy omen that the consent of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners\nis required before the well-fed donkey who disports himself in the\nPalace grounds can be joined by the ill-fed, ragged urchins who now have\nno playground but the streets.\" The _Daily News_ rendered further aid in\na leader. Then a report was made that the condition of the streets,\n\"to which, in his correspondence with the Archbishop of Canterbury,\nMr. Holyoake had called attention, had been illustrated by the fall of\nseveral miserable tenements, in which a woman and several children were\nfatally buried in the ruins.\" The writer says there is \"no hope that the\nunkindly exclusiveness of 'Cantuar' will be broken down.\"\n\nSo the matter rested for nearly twenty years before the happy news\ncame that the London County Council had come into possession of the\necclesiastical fields, and converted them into a holy park, where\npale-faced mothers and sickly children may stroll or disport themselves\nat will evermore. All honour to the later agents of this merciful\nchange. There is an open gleam of Nature now in the doleful district.\nSir Hudibras exclaims:\n\n     \"What perils do environ\n     Him who meddles with cold iron.\"\n\nNot less so if the meddlement be with ecclesiastical iron and the\ncontest lasts a longer time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII. SOCIAL WONDERS ACROSS THE WATER\n\nBeing several times in France, twice in America and Canada, thrice in\nItaly and as many times in Holland, under circumstances which brought\nme into relation with representative people, enabled me to become\nacquainted with the ways of persons of other countries than my own.\nThere I met great orators, poets, statesmen, philosophers, and\ngreat preachers of whom I had read--but whom to know was a greater\ninspiration. Thus I learned the art of not being surprised, and\nof regarding strangeness as a curiosity, not an offence awakening\nresentment as something unpardonable, or at least, an impropriety the\ntraveller is bound to reprehend, as Mrs. Trollope and her successors\nhave done on American peculiarities. On the Continent I found incidents\nto wonder at, but I confine myself in this chapter to America and\nCanada, countries we are accustomed to designate as \"Across the Water,\"\nas the United States and the Dominion which have imperishable interest\nto all of the British race.\n\nNotwithstanding the thousands of persons who now make sea journeys for\nthe first time, I found, when it came to my turn, there was no book--nor\nis there now--on the art of being a sea passenger. I could find no\nteaching Handbook of the Ocean--what to expect under entirely new\nconditions, and what to do when they come, so as to extract out of a\nvoyage the pleasure in it and increase the discomforts which occur in\nwave-life. One of the pleasures is--there is no dust at sea.\n\nOn my visit to America in 1879, I, at the request of Mr. Hodgson Pratt,\nundertook to inquire what were the prospects of emigrants to that\ncountry and Canada, which cost me labour and expense. What I found\nwanting, and did not exist, and which does not exist still, was an\nemigrant guide book informing him of the conditions of industry in\ndifferent States, the rules of health necessary to be observed in\ndifferent climates, and the vicissitudes to which health is liable. The\nbook wanted is one on an epitome plan of the People's Blue Books, issued\nby Lord Clarendon on my suggestion, as he stated in them.\n\nWhen I was at Washington, Mr. Evarts, the Secretary of State, gave me a\nbook, published by local authorities at Washington, with maps of every\ndepartment of the city, marking the portion where special diseases\nprevailed. London has no such book yet. Similar information concerning\nevery State and territory in America existed in official reports. But\nI found that neither the Government of Washington nor Ottawa would take\nthe responsibility of giving emigrants this information in a public and\nportable form, as land agents would be in revolt at the preferential\nchoice emigrants would then have before them. It was continually denied\nthat such information existed. Senators in their turn said so. Possibly\nthey did not know, but Mr. Henry Villard, a son-in-law of Lloyd\nGarrison, told me that when he was secretary of the Social Science\nAssociation he began the kind of book I sought, and that its' issue was\ndiscouraged.\n\nOn my second visit to America in 1882, I had introductions to the\nPresident of the United States and to Lord Lome, the Governor of Canada,\nfrom his father, the Duke of Argyll, with a view of obtaining the\npublication of a protecting guide book such as I have described, under\nits authority. When I first mentioned this in New York (1879) the editor\nof the _Star_ (an Irishman) wrote friendly and applauding leaders upon\nmy project. On my second visit, in 1882, this friendly editor (having\nseen in the papers that Mr. Gladstone approved of my quest) wrote\nfurious leaders against it. On asking him the reason of the change of\nview, he said, \"Mr. Holyoake, were Mr. Gladstone and his Cabinet in this\nroom, and I could open a trap-door under their feet and let them all\nfall into hell, I would do it,\" using words still more venomous. Then\nI realised the fatuity of the anti-Irish policy which drives the ablest\nIrishmen into exile and maintains a body of unappeasable enemies of\nEngland wherever they go. Then I saw what crazy statesmanship it was in\nthe English to deny self-government to the Irish people, and spend ten\nmillions a year to prevent them taking care of themselves.\n\nThe Irish learned to think better of Mr. Gladstone some years later.\nOne night when he was sitting alone in the House of Commons writing his\nusual letter to the Queen, after debates were over, he was startled by\na ringing cheer that filled the chamber, when looking up he found the\nIrish members, who had returned to express their gratitude to him.\nSurely no nation ever proclaimed its obligation in so romantic a way.\nThe tenderest prayer put up in my time was that of W. D. Sullivan:--\n\n     \"_God be good to Gladdy_,\n     Says Sandy, John and Paddy,\n     For he is a noble laddy,\n     A grand old chiel is he.\"\n\nI take pride in the thought that I was the first person who lectured\nupon \"English Co-operation\" in Montreal and Boston. It was with pride\nI spoke in Stacey Hall in Boston, from the desk at which Lloyd Garrison\nwas once speaking, when he was seized by a slave-owning mob with intent\nto hang him. As I spoke I could look into the stairway on my right, down\nwhich he was dragged.\n\nThe interviewers, the terror of most \"strangers,\" were welcome to\nme. The engraving in Frank Leslie's paper reproduced in \"Among the\nAmericans,\" representing the interview with me in the Hoffman House, was\nprobably the first picture of that process published in England (1881).\nI advocated the cultivation of the art in Great Britain, which, though\nprevalent in America, was still in a crude state there. The questions\nput to me were poor, abrupt, containing no adequate suggestion of the\ninformation sought The interviewer should have some conception of the\nknowledge of the person questioned, and skill in reporting his answers.\nSome whom I met put down the very opposite of what was said to them. The\nonly protection against such perverters, when they came again, was to\nsay the contrary to what I meant, when their rendering would be what I\nwished it to be. Some interviewers put into your mouth what they desired\nyou to say. Against them there is no remedy save avoidance. On the\nwhole, I found interviewers a great advantage. I had certain ideas to\nmake known and information to ask for, and the skilful interviewer, in\nhis alluring way, sends everything all over the land. Wise questioning\nis the fine art of daily life. \"It is misunderstanding,\" says the\nDutch proverb, \"which brings lies to town.\" Everybody knows that\nmisunderstandings create divisions in families and alienations in\nfriendships--in parties as well as in persons--which timely inquiries\nwould dissipate. Intelligent questioning elicits hidden facts--it\nincreases knowledge without ostentation--it clears away obscurity,\nand renders information definite--it supersedes assumptions--it tests\nsuspicions and throws light upon conjecture--it undermines error,\nwithout incensing those who hold it--it leads misconception to confute\nitself without the affront of direct refutation--it warns inquirers not\nto give absolute assent to anything uncorroborated, or which cannot\nbe interrogated. Relevant questioning is the handmaid of accuracy, and\nmakes straight the pathway of Truth.\n\nThe privations of Protection, which a quick and independent-minded\npeople endured, was one of the wonders I saw. In Montreal, for a writing\npad to use on my voyage home, I had to pay seven shillings and sixpence,\nwhich I could have bought in London for eighteen-pence. I took to\nAmerica a noble, full-length portrait of John Bright, just as he stood\nwhen addressing the House of Commons, more than half life-size--the\ngreatest of Mayall's triumphs. Though it was not for sale, but a present\nto my friend, James Charlton, of Chicago, the well-known railway agent,\nthe Custom House demanded a payment of 30 dols. (L6) import duty. It was\nonly after much negotiations in high quarters, and in consideration\nthat it was a portrait of Mr. Bright, brought as a gift to an American\ncitizen, that the import duty was reduced to 6 dollars.\n\nThe disadvantage of Protection is that no one can make a gift to\nAmerica or to its citizens without being heavily taxed to discourage\ninternational generosity.\n\nThe Mayor of Brighton, Mr. Alderman Hallet, had entrusted to me some 200\nvolumes, of considerable value, on City Sanitation, greatly needed in\nAmerica. They lay in the Custom House three months, before I discovered\nthat the Smithsonian Institute could claim them under its charter.\nOtherwise I must have paid a return freight to Brighton, as America is\nprotected from accepting offerings of civil or sanitary service. There\noften come to us, from that country, emissaries of Evangelism, to\nimprove us in piety, but at home they levy 25 per cent, upon the\nimportation of the Holy Scriptures--thus taxing the very means of\nSalvation.\n\nFor a time I sent presents of books to working-class friends in America\nwhom I wished to serve or to interest, who wrote to me to say that \"they\nwere unable to redeem them from the post-office, the import tax being\nmore than they could pay,\" and they reminded me that \"having been in\nAmerica, I ought to know that working people could not afford to\nhave imported presents made to them.\" Indeed, I had often noticed how\ndestitute their homes were in matters of table service and all bright\ndecoration, plentiful even in the houses of our miners and mechanics\nin England. American workmen would tell me that a present of cutlery or\nporcelain, if I could bring that about, would interest them greatly.\n\nOn leaving New York a friend of mine, a Custom House officer, told me he\nneeded a coast coat, suitable to the service he was engaged in, and that\nhe would be much obliged if I would have one made for him in England.\nHe would leave it to me to contrive how it could reach him. The coat he\nwanted, he said, would cost him L9 in New York. I had it made in London,\nentirely to his satisfaction, for L4 15s., but how to get it to him free\nof Custom duties was a problem. I had to wait until a friend of mine--a\nproperty owner in Montreal--was returning there. He went out in the\nvessel in which Princess Louise sailed. He wore it occasionally on deck\nto qualify it being regarded as a personal garment. So it arrived duty\nfree at Montreal. After looking about for two or three months for a\nfriend who would wear it across the frontier, it arrived, after six\nmonths' travelling diplomacy, at the house of my friend in New York.\n\nI did not find in America or Canada anything more wonderful, beggarly\nand humiliating than the policy of Protection. But we are not without\ncounterparts in folly of another kind.\n\nVisitors to England no doubt wonder to find us, a commercial nation,\nfining the merchant of enterprise a shilling (the workman was so\nfined until late years) for every pound he expends on journeys of\nbusiness--keeping a travelling tax to discourage trade. But John Bull\ndoes not profess to be over-bright, while Uncle Sam thinks himself the\nsmartest man in creation. We retain in 1904 a tax Peel condemned in\n1844. But then we live under a monarchy, from which Uncle Sam is free.\n\nFrance used to be the one land which was hospitable to new ideas, and\nfor that it is still pre-eminent in Europe. But America excels Europe\nnow in this respect. Canada has not emerged from its Colonialism, and\nhas no national aspiration. Voltaire found when he was in London,\nthat England had fifty religions and only one sauce. America has no\ndistinction in sauces, but it has more than 200 religions, and having\nno State Church there is no poison of Social Ascendency in piety, but\nequality in worship and prophesying. I found that a man might be of any\nreligion he pleased--though as a matter of civility he was expected\nto be of some--and if he said he was of none, he was thought to be\nphenomenally fastidious, if not one of theirs would suit him, since\nAmerica provided a greater variety for the visitor to choose from than\nany other country in the world.\n\nThough naturally disappointed at being unable to suit the stranger's\ntaste, they were not intolerant. He was at liberty to import or invent a\nreligion of his own. Let not the reader imagine that because people are\nfree to believe as they please, there is no religion in America.\n\nNearing Santa Fe in New Mexico, I passed by the adobe temple of\nMontezuma. Adobe is pronounced in three syllables--a-do-be--and is the\nMexican name for a mud-built house, which is usually one story high; so\nthat Santa Fe has been compared to a town blown down. When the Emperor\nMontezuma perished he told his followers to keep the fire burning in the\nTemple, as he would come again from the east, and they should see \"his\nface bright and fair.\" In warfare and pestilence and decimation of their\nrace, these faithful worshippers kept the fire burning night and day for\nthree centuries, and it has not long been extinguished. Europe can show\nno faith so patient, enduring, and pathetic as this.\n\nThe pleasantest hours of exploration I spent in Santa Fe were in the\nold church of San Miguel. Though the oldest church in America, there are\nthose who would remove rather than restore it. A book lay upon an altar\nin which all who would subscribe to save it had inserted their names,\nand I added mine for five shillings.\n\nWhen an Englishman goes abroad, he takes with him a greater load of\nprejudices than any man of any other nation could bear, and, as a rule,\nhe expresses pretty freely his opinion of things which do not conform\nto his notions, as though the inhabitants ought to have consulted his\npreferences, forgetting that in his own country he seldom shows that\nconsideration to others. On fit occasion I did not withhold my opinion\nof things which seemed to me capable of improvement; but before giving\nmy impressions I thought over what equivalent absurdity existed in\nEngland, and by comparing British instances with those before me, no one\ntook offence--some were instructed or amused at finding that hardly any\nnation enjoyed a monopoly of stupidity. There is all the difference in\nthe world between saying to an international host, \"How badly you do\nthings in your country,\" and saying, \"We are as unsuccessful as you in\n'striking twelve all at once.'\"\n\nWe all know the maxim: \"'Before finding fault with another, think of\nyour own.\" But Charles Dickens, with all his brightness, forgot this\nwhen he wrote of America. Few nations have as yet attained perfection in\nall things--not even England.\n\nWhen in Boston, America, 1879, I went to the best Bible store I could\nfind or be directed to, to purchase a copy of the apocryphal books of\nthe Old Testament. In a church where I had to make a discourse, I wanted\nto read the dialogue between the prophet Esdras and the angel Uriel.\nThe only copy I could obtain was on poor, thin paper; of small, almost\ninvisible print, and meanly bound. The price was 4s. 2d. \"How is it,\" I\ninquired, \"that you ask so much in the Hub of the Universe for even\nthis indifferent portion of Scripture--seeing that at the house of the\nSociety for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, in Northumberland\nAvenue, London, a house ten times handsomer than yours, in a much more\ncostly situation--I can buy the same book on good, strong paper, in\nlarge type, in a bright, substantial cover for exactly 3s. less than you\nask me.\" \"You see, sir,\" said the manager of the store, \"we have duty\nto pay.\" \"Duty!\" I exclaimed. \"Do you mean me to understand that in this\nland of Puritan Christians, you tax the means of salvation?\" He did not\nlike to admit that, and could not deny it, so after a confused moment he\nanswered: \"All books imported have to pay twenty-five per cent, duty.\"\nAll I could say was that \"it seemed to me that their protective duties\nprotected sin; and, being interested in the welfare of emigrants, I must\nmake a note counselling all who wish to be converted, to get that done\nbefore coming out; for if they arrive in America in an unconverted state\nthey could not afford to be converted here.\" Until then I was unaware\nthat Protection protected the Devil, and that he had a personal interest\nin its enactment.\n\nMy article in the _Nineteenth Century_ entitled, \"A Stranger in\nAmerica,\" written in the uncarping spirit as to defects and ungrudgingly\nrecognising the circumstances which frustrated or retarded other\nexcellences in their power, was acknowledged by the press of that\ncountry, and was said by G. W. Smalley--the greatest American critic\nin this country then--to be \"one of those articles which create\ninternational goodwill.\" Approval worth having could no further go. It\nwas surprising to me that mere two-sided travelling fairness should meet\nwith such assent, whereas I expected it would be regarded as tame and\nuninteresting.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV. THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH AT SEA\n\nThe voyage out to America described in the last chapter included an\ninstance of the extraordinary behaviour of the Established Church at\nsea, which deserves special mention as it is still repeated.\n\nThere is an offensive rule on board ships that the service on Sunday\nshall be that of the Church of England, and that the preacher selected\nshall be of that persuasion.\n\nSeveral of the twelve ministers of religion among the passengers of the\n_Bothnia_ in 1879 were distinguished preachers, whereas the clergyman\nselected to preach to us was not at all distinguished, and made a sermon\nwhich I, as an Englishman, was ashamed to hear delivered before an\naudience of intelligent Americans. The preacher told a woful story of\nloss of trade and distress in England, which gave the audience the idea\nthat John Bull was \"up a tree.\" Were he up ever so high I would not have\ntold it to an alien audience.\n\nThe preacher said that these losses were owing to our sins--that is the\nsins of Englishmen. The devotion of the American hearers was varied\nwith a smile at this announcement. It was their surpassing ingenuity and\nrivalry in trade which had affected our exports for a time. Our chief\n\"sins\" were uninventiveness and commercial incapacity, and the greater\nwit and ingenuity of the audience were the actual punishment the\npreacher was pleading against, and praying them to be contrite on\naccount of their own success. The minister described bad trade as a\npunishment from God, as though God had made the rascally merchants who\ntook out shoddy calico and ruined the markets. It was not God that had\ndriven the best French and German artists and workmen into America,\nwhere they have enriched its manufacturers with their skill and\nindustry, and enabled that country to compete with ours.\n\nThe preacher's text was as wide of any mark as his sermon. It asked the\nquestion, \"How can we sing in a strange land?\" When we should arrive\nthere, there would hardly be a dozen of us in the vessel who would be\nin a strange land; the great majority were going home--mostly commercial\nreapers of an English harvest who were returning home rejoicing--bearing\ntheir golden sheaves with them. Neither the sea nor the land were\nstrange to them. Many of them were as familiar with the Atlantic as\nwith the prairie. I sat at table by a Toronto dealer who had crossed\nthe ocean twenty-nine times. The congregation at sea formed a very poor\nopinion of the discernment of the Established Church.\n\nOn the return voyage in the _Gallia_ we had another \"burning\" but not\n\"a shining light\" of the Church of England to discourse. He was a young\nman, and it required some assurance on his part to look into the eyes\nof the intelligent Christians around him, who had three times his years,\nexperience, and knowledge, and lecture them upon matters of which he was\nabsolutely ignorant.\n\nThis clergyman enforced the old doctrine of severity in parental\ndiscipline of the young, and on the wisdom of compelling children to\nunquestioning obedience, and argued that submission to a higher will was\ngood for men during life. At least two-thirds of the congregation were\nAmerican, who regard parental severity as cruelty to the young, and\nutterly uninstructive; and unquestioning obedience they hold to be\ncalamitous and demoralising education. They expect reasonable obedience,\nand seek to obtain it by reason. Submission to a \"higher will\" as\napplied to man, is submission to arbitrary authority against which the\nwhole polity of American life is a magnificent protest. The only higher\nwill they recognise in worldly affairs is the will of the people,\nintelligently formed, impartially gathered, and constitutionally\nrecorded--facts of which the speaker had not the remotest idea.\n\nWho can read this narrative of the ignorance and effrontery, nurtured\nby the Established Church and obtruded on passengers at sea, without\na sense of patriotic humiliation that it is continued every Sunday in\nevery ship? It is thought dangerous to be wrecked and not to have taken\npart in this pitiable exhibition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXV. ADVENTURES IN THE STREETS\n\nWere I persuaded, as many are, that each person is a subject of\nProvidential care, I might count myself as one of the well-favoured. I\nshould do so, did it not demand unseemly egotism to believe the Supreme\nMaster of all the worlds of the Universe gave a portion of His eternal\ntime to personally guide my unimportant footsteps, or snatch me from\nharm, which might befall me on doing my duty, or when I inadvertently,\nnegligently, or ignorantly put myself in the way of disaster. Whatever\nmay be the explanation, I have oft been saved in jeopardy.\n\nThe first specific deliverance occurred when I was a young man, in the\nBaskeville Mill, Birmingham. Working at a button lathe, the kerchief\nround my neck was caught by the \"chock,\" and I saw myself drawn swiftly\nto it. To avert being strangled, I held back my neck with what force I\ncould. All would have been in vain had not a friendly Irishman, who was\ngrinding spectacle glasses in an adjoining room, come to my assistance,\nby which I escaped decapitation without benefit of the clergy, or the\nmerciful swiftness of the guillotine.\n\nIn days when the cheap train ran very early in the morning, I set out\nbefore daylight from Exeter, where I had been lecturing. At the station\nat which the train stopped for an hour or two, as was the custom in days\nbefore the repeal of the tax on third-class passengers, we were in\nwhat Omar Khayyam called the \"false dawn of morning.\" The train did\nnot properly draw up to the platform, and when I stepped out I had a\nconsiderable fall, which sprained my ankle and went near breaking my\nneck.\n\nOn my arrival in Boston, 1879, I was invited by a newspaper friend, whom\nI had brought with me into the city, to join a party of pressmen who\nwere to assemble next morning at Parker House, to report upon the test\nascent of a new elevator. It happened that Mr. Wendell Phillips visited\nme early at Adam's House, before I was up. He sat familiarly on the\nbedrail, and proposed to drive me round the city and show me the\nhistoric glories of Boston, which being proud to accept, I sent an\napology for my absence to the elevator party at Parker House. That\nmorning the elevator broke down, and out of five pressmen who went into\nit only four were rescued--more or less in a state of pulp. One was\nkilled. But for Mr. Phillips's fortunate visit I should have been among\nthem.\n\nIn Kansas City, in the same year (1879), I was taken by my transatlantic\nfriend, Mr. James Charlton, to see a sugar bakery, concerning which I\nwas curious. The day was hot enough to singe the beard of Satan, and\nI was glad to retreat into the bakery, which, however, I found still\nhotter, and I left, intending to return at a cooler hour next morning.\nAt the time I was to arrive I heard that the whole building had fallen\nin. Some were killed and many injured. This was the City of Kansas, of\nwhich the mayor once said: \"He wished the people would let some one die\na natural death, that a stranger might know how healthy the city was.\nAccidents, duels, and shootings prevented cases of longevity occurring.\"\n\nAnother occasion when misadventure took place, when we--my daughter,\nMrs. Marsh, and I--were crossing the Tesuque Valley, below Santa Fe,\nthe party occupied three carriages; road, there was none, and the\nhorses knew it, and when they came to a difficulty--either a ravine\nor hill--the driver would give the horses the rein, when they spread\nthemselves out with good sagacity, and descended or ascended with\nsuccess. One pair of horses broke the spring of their carriage, making\nmatters unpleasant to the occupants; another pair broke the shaft,\nwhich, cutting them, made them mad, and they ran away. The carriage in\nwhich I was remained sound, and I had the pleasure for once of watching\nthe misfortunes of my friends.\n\nThe river was low, the sand was soft, and the distance through the\nTesuque River was considerable, and we calculated that no horses were\nmad enough to continue their efforts to run through it, and we were\nrewarded by seeing them alter their minds in the midst of it, and\ncontinue their journey in a sensible manner.\n\nReturning from Guelph, which lies below Hamilton, in the Niagara corner\nof Canada, where we had been to see the famous Agricultural College, we\nwere one night on the railway in what the Scotch call the \"gloaming.\" My\ndaughter remarked that the scenery outside the carriage was more fixed\nthan she had before observed it, and upon inquiry it appeared that we\nwere fixed too--for the train had parted in the middle, and the movable\nportion had gone peacefully on its way to Hamilton. We were left forming\nan excellent obstruction to any other train which might come down the\nline. Fortunately, the guard could see the last station we had left,\ntwo miles from us, and see also the train following us arrive there. We\nhoped that the stationmaster would have some knowledge of our being upon\nthe line, and stop the advancing train; but when we saw it leave the\nstation on its way to us we were all ordered to leave the carriages,\nwhich was no easy thing, as the banks right and left of us were\nsteep, and the ditch at the base was deep. However, our friends, Mr.\nLittlehales and Mr. Smith, being strong of arm and active on a hill,\nvery soon drew us up to a point where we could observe a collision with\nmore satisfaction than when in the carriages. Fortunately, the man who\nbore the only lamp left us, and who was sent on to intercept the train,\nsucceeded in doing it. Ultimately we arrived at Hamilton only two hours\nlate. When we were all safely at home, one lady, who accompanied us,\nfainted--which showed admirable judgment to postpone that necessary\noperation until it was no longer an inconvenience. One lady fainted in\nthe midst of the trouble, which only increased it. The excitement made\nfainting sooner or later justifiable, although an impediment, but I was\nglad to observe my daughter did not think it necessary to faint at any\ntime.\n\nAs we were leaving the sleepy Falls of Montmorency in the carriage,\nwe looked out to see whether the Frenchman had got sight of us, fully\nexpecting he would take a chaise and come after us to collect some other\nimpost which we had evaded paying. The sun was in great force, and I was\nreposing in its delicious rays, thinking how delightful it was to\nride into Quebec on such a day, when in an instant of time we were all\ndispersed about the road. In a field hard by, where a great load of\nlumber as high as a house was piled, a boy who was extracting a log set\nthe upper logs rolling. This frightened the horses. They were two black\nsteeds of high spirit, and therefore very mad when alarmed. Had they run\non in their uncontrollable state, they would, if they escaped vehicles\non the way, have arrived at a narrow bridge where unknown mischief must\nhave occurred. The driver, who was a strongly built Irishman, about\nsixty, with good judgment and intrepidity, instantly threw the horses\non to the fence, which they broke, got into the ditch, and seriously cut\ntheir knees. I leaped out into the ditch with a view to help my daughter\nout of the carriage; but she, nimbler than I, intending to render me the\nsame service, arrived at the ditch, and assisted me out, merely asking\n\"whether four quietly disposed persons being distributed over the\nDominion at a minute's notice was a mode of travelling in Canada?\"\nMrs. Hall, who was riding with us, also escaped unhurt Her husband\ndeliberately remained some time to see what the horses were going to do,\nbut finding them frantic, he also abandoned the carriage.\n\nLater, in England, being Ashton way, I paid a visit to my friend the\nRev. Joseph Rayner Stephens, whose voice, in early Chartist times, was\nthe most eloquent in the two counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire.\nHe fought the \"New Poor Law\" and the \"Long Timers\" in the Ten Hours'\nagitation. His views were changed in many respects, but that did not\nalter my regard for his Chartist services--and there remained his varied\naffluence of language, his fitly chosen terms, his humorous statement,\nhis exactness of expression and strong coherence, in which the sequence\nof his reasoning never disappeared through the crevice of a sentence.\nAll this made his conversation always charming and instructive.\n\nAfter lecturing in the Temperance Hall and the \"evening was far spent,\"\na cab was procured to take me to Mr. Stephens's at the \"Hollins.\" A\nfriend, Mr. Scott, in perfect wanton courtesy, having no presentiment\nin his mind, would accompany me. When we arrived at Stalybridge (where\nthere is a real bridge), the cabman, instead of driving over it, drove\nagainst it. I thought, perhaps, this was the way with Ashton cabmen;\nbut my friend came to a different conclusion. He said the cabman had not\ntaken the \"pledge\" that afternoon. I was told Ashton cabmen needed to\ntake it often. The driver, resenting our remonstrance, drove wildly down\na narrow, ugly, deserted street, which he found at hand. It was all the\nsame to me, who did not know one street from the other. My friend, who\nknew there was no outlet save into the river, called out violently to\ncabby to stop. The only effect was that he drove more furiously.\nMr. Scott leaped out and seized the horse, and prevented my being\noverthrown. Before us were the remains of an old building, with the\ncellars all open, in one of which we should soon have descended. Cabby\nwould have killed his horse, and probably himself, which no doubt would\nhave been an advantage to Ashton.\n\nAs the place was deserted I should have been found next morning curled\nup and inarticulate. We paid our dangerous driver his full fare to that\nspot, and advised him to put himself in communication with a temperance\nsociety. He abused us as \"not being gentlemen\" for stopping his cab in\nthat unhandsome way.\n\nThe next morning I went to the scene of the previous night's adventure.\nHad Mr. Henley, the loud, coarse-tongued member for Oxfordshire at that\ntime, seen the place, he would have said we were making an \"ugly rush\"\nfor the river. Not that we should ever have reached the river, for we\nshould certainly have broken our necks in the brick vaults our driver\nwas whipping his horse into.\n\nAs I needed another cab on my arrival at Euston, I selected a\nquiet-looking white horse, and a Good Templar-looking cabman, first\nasking the superintendent what he thought of him. \"O, he's all right,\"\nwas the answer, and things went pleasantly until we arrived at a narrow,\nwinding street. I was thinking of my friend, Mr. Stephens, and of the\nconcert which at that hour he had daily in his bedroom, when I\nwas suddenly jerked off my seat and found the white horse on the\nfoot-pavement. I stepped out and adjured the cabman, \"By the carpet-bag\nof St Peter\" (no more suitable adjuration presented itself on the\noccasion), to tell me what he was at. I said,\n\n\"Are you from Ashton?\" \"Nothing the matter, sir. All right Jump in. Only\nmy horse shied at the costermonger's carrot-cart there. She's a capital\nhorse, only she's apt to shy.\" I answered, \"Yes; and unless I change my\nmode of travelling by cabs, I shall become shy myself.\"\n\nLate one night, after the close of the Festive Co-operative Meeting\nin Huddersfield, a cab was fetched for me from the fair--it being fair\ntime. The messenger knew it was a bad night for the whip, as he might\nbe \"touched in the head\" by the festivities, so he said to cabby: \"Now,\nthough it is fair night, you must do the fair thing by this fare. He\ndoes not mind spreading principles, but he objects to being spread\nhimself.\" Cabby came with alacrity. He thought he had to take some\n\"boozing cuss\" about the fair, with an occasional pull up at the \"Spread\nEagle.\" When he found me issuing from a temperance hotel, bound for\nFernbrook, he did not conceal his disappointment by tongue or whip, and\njerked his horse like a Bashi-Bazouk when a Montenegrin is after him.\nI cared nothing, as I had made up my mind not to say another word about\ncabs if they broke my neck. I knew we had a stout hill before us, which\nwould bring things quiet The next day the hotel people, who saw the\ncabman's rage, said they thought there was mischief in store for me.\nThey knew nothing of Ashton ways, and their apprehensions were original.\n\nAfter a pleasant sojourn in Brighton, where the November sun is bright,\nand the fogs are thin, grey and graceful, softening the glare of the\nwhite coast, tempering it to the sensitive sight, I returned to London\none cold, frosty day, when snow and ice made the streets slippery. I had\nchosen a cabman whose solid, honest face was assuring, and being lumpy\nand large himself I thought he would keep his \"four-wheeler\" steady by\nhis own weight. Being himself lame and rheumatic, he appeared one who\nwould prefer quiet driving for his own sake. We went on steadily until\nwe reached Pall Mall, when he turned sharply up Suffolk Street. Looking\nout, I called to my friend on the box, saying, \"This is not Essex\nStreet\" \"Beg your pardon, sir, I thought you said Suffolk Street,\" and\nbegan to turn his horse round. In that street the ground rises, and the\ncarriage-way is convex and narrow, it required skill to turn the cab,\nand the cabman was wanting therein. He said his rein had caught, and\nwhen he thought he was pulling the horse round, the horse had taken a\ndifferent view of his intention, and imagined he was backing him, and,\ngiving me the benefit of the doubt, did back, and overturned the cab,\nand me too. Not liking collisions of late, I had, on leaving Brighton,\nwrapped myself in a railway cloak, that it might act as a sort of buffer\nin case of bumping--yet not expecting I should require it so soon.\n\nSeeing what the horse was at, and taking what survey I could of the\nsituation, I found I was being driven against the window of the house in\nwhich Cobden died. I have my own taste as to the mode in which I should\nlike to be killed. To be run over by a butcher's cart, or smashed by a\ncoal train or brewer's van is not my choice; but being killed in Pall\nMall is more eligible, yet not satisfactory.\n\nAs I had long lived in Pall Mall, I knew the habits of the place.\nThere is a gradation of killing in the streets of London, well-known\nto West-end cabmen. As they enter Trafalgar Square, they run over the\npassenger without ceremony. At Waterloo Place, where gentlemen wander\nabout, they merely knock you down, but as they enter Club-land, which\nbegins at Pall Mall West, where Judges and Cabinet Ministers and members\nof Parliament abound, they merely run at you; so I knew I was on the\nspot where death is never inflicted. Therefore I took hold of the strap\non the opposite side of the cab to that on which I saw I should fall.\nFor better being able to look after my portmanteau, I had it with me,\nand, fortunately had placed it on the side on which I fell. Placing\nmyself against it when the crash came, and the glass broke, I was saved\nfrom my face being cut by it. My hat was crushed, and head bruised. It\nwas impossible to open the door, which was then above me, and had the\nhorse taken to kicking, as is the manner of these animals when in doubt,\nit would have fared ill with me. Possibly the horse was a member of the\nPeace Society, and showed no belligerent tendency; more likely he was\ntired, and glad of the opportunity of resting himself. The street, which\nseemed empty, was quickly filled, as though people sprang out of the\nground. Two Micawbers who were looking out for anything which \"turned\nup,\" or turned over, came and forced open the cab-door at the top, and\ndragged me up, somewhat dazed, my hat off, my grey hair dishevelled,\nmy blue spectacles rather awry on my face--I was sensible of a\nnewly-contrived, music-hall appearance as my shoulders peered above the\ncab. A spirit merchant near kindly invited me into his house, where some\ncold brandy and water given to me seemed more agreeable and refreshing\nthan it ever did before or since. The cab had been pulled together\nsomehow. My rheumatic friend on the box had been picked up not much the\nworse--possibly the fall had done his rheumatism good. I thought it a\npity the poor fellow should lose his fare as well as his windows, and so\ncontinued my journey with him.\n\nOn one occasion, after an enchanted evening in the suburbs of\nKensington, a fog came on. The driver of the voiture drove into an\nenclosure of stables, and went round and round. Noticing there was a\nrecurring recess, I kept the door open until we arrived at it again, and\nleapt into it as we passed again. When the driver, who was bewildered,\ncame round a third time, I surprised him by shouts, and advised him to\nlet his horse take us out by the way he came in. There was no house, or\nlight, or person to be seen, and there was the prospect of a night in\nthe cold, tempered by contingent accident.\n\nHaving engaged to be surety for the son of a Hindoo judge, who was about\nto enter as a student in the Inns of Court, a new adventure befel me. I\nhad accepted from his father the appointment of guardian of his son. My\nward was a young man of many virtues, save that of punctuality. As he\ndid not appear by appointment, I set out in search of him. Crossing\nTrafalgar Square I found myself suddenly confronted by two horses'\nheads. An omnibus had come down upon me. It flashed through my mind\nthat, as I had often said, I was in more danger of being killed in\nthe streets of London than in any foreign city or on the sea; and I\nconcluded the occasion had come. I knew no more until I found myself\nlying on my back in the mud after rain, but, seeing an aperture\nbetween the two wheels, I made an attempt to crawl through. A crowd of\nspectators had gathered round and voices shouted to me to remain where I\nwas until the wheels were drawn from me. Lying down in the mud again was\nnew to me. There was nothing over me but the omnibus, and as I had never\nseen the bottom of one before, I examined it.\n\nIt happened that a surgeon of the Humane Society was among the\nspectators, who assisted in raising me up, and took me to the society's\nrooms close by, where I was bathed and vaseline applied to my bruises.\nMy overcoat was torn and spoiled, but I was not much hurt. The hoof\nof one horse had made black part of one arm. It appears I had fallen\nbetween them, and had it not been for their intelligent discrimination I\nmight have been killed. I sent two bags of the fattest feeding cake\nthe Co-operative Agricultural Association could supply, as a present to\nthose two horses. I had no other means of showing my gratitude to them.\nI was not so grateful to the Humane Society's surgeon, who sent me in\na bill for two guineas for attendance upon me, and threatened me with\nlegal proceedings if I did not pay it. As he accompanied me to the\nNational Liberal Club, whence I had set out, I sent him one guinea for\nthat courtesy, and heard no more of him, and did not want to.\n\nOne evening, after leaving a Co-operative Board Meeting in Leman Street,\nWhitechapel, I incautiously stepped into the roadway to hail a cab, when\na lurry came round a corner behind me and knocked me into the mud, which\nwas very prevalent that day. Some bystanders picked me up, and one,\ngood-naturedly, lent me a handkerchief with which to clear my face and\nhead, both being blackened and bleeding. The policeman who took charge\nof me asked me where I wanted to be taken. I answered that I was on my\nway to Fleet Street to an assembly of the Institute of Journalists to\nmeet M. Zola, then on a visit to us. \"I think, sir,\" said the reflective\npoliceman, \"we had better take you to the London Hospital,\" and another\npoliceman accompanied me in a passing tram, which went by the hospital\ndoor. After some dreary waiting in the accident ward it was found that\nI had no rib or bone broken, but my nose and forehead were bound up with\ngrim-looking plasters, and when I arrived at the hotel, four miles\naway, where I was residing, and entered the commercial room, I had the\nappearance of a prize-fighter, who had had a bad time of it in the ring.\nKnowing the second day of an accident was usually the worst, I took an\nearly train home while I could move. My ribs, though not broken, were\nall painful, and I remember squealing for a fortnight on being taken out\nof bed. After my last adventure the Accident Insurance Company (though I\nhad never troubled them but once) refused to accept any further premium\nfrom me, which I had paid twenty or thirty years, and left me to deal\nwith further providential escapes from my own resources.\n\nThinking I was safe in Brighton near my own home, I was walking up the\nMarine Parade, one quiet Sunday morning, when a gentleman on a bicycle\nrushed down a bye street and knocked me down with a bound. Seeing two\nladies crossing the street I concluded matters were safe. The rider told\nme that he had seen the ladies and had arranged to clear them, but as I\nstepped forward he could not clear me, so gave me the preference. As I\nhad always been in favour of the rights of women, I said he did rightly,\nthough the result was not to my mind. He had the courtesy to accompany\nme to my door, apologising for what he had done, but left me to pay the\nbill of the physician, who was called in to examine me. When I recovered\nmy proper senses I found he had not left his card. Though I advertised\nfor him, he made no reappearance.\n\nAnother serene Sunday morning I was crossing the Old Steine with a\nson-in-law; nothing was to be seen in motion save a small dog-cart,\nwhich had passed before we stepped into the road. Soon we found\nourselves both thrown to the ground with violence. A huge dog, as\nlarge as the \"Hound of the Baskervilles\" described by Conan Doyle, had\nloitered behind and suddenly discovered his master had driven ahead, and\nhe, like a Leming rat, made straight for his master, quite regardless of\nour being in his way.\n\nIn these and other adventures or _mis_-adventures, I need not say I\nwas never killed, though the escapes were narrow. To say they were\nprovidential escapes would be to come under the rebuke of Archbishop\nWhately, who, when a curate reported himself as providentially saved\nfrom the terrible wreck of the _Amazon_, asked: \"I to understand that\nall less fortunate passengers were providentially drowned?\" The belief\nthat the Deity is capricious or partial in His mercies is a form of\nholy egotism which better deserves indictment than many errors of speech\nwhich have been so visited. I have no theory of my many exemptions from\nfatal consequences. All I can say is that, had I been a saint, I could\nnot have been more fortunate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVI. LIMPING THRIFT\n\nThrift is so excellent a thing--is so much praised by moralists, so much\ncommended by advisers of the people, and is of so much value to the poor\nwho practise it--that it is strange to see it retarded by the caprices\nof those who take credit and receive it, for promoting the necessary\nvirtues. Insurance societies continue to recommend themselves by\npraising prudence and forethought which provides for the future.\nEverybody knows that those who do not live within their income live upon\nothers who trust them. Those who spend all their income forget that if\nothers did as they do, there would be universal indigence. Insurance\ncompanies are supposed to provide inducements to thrift, whereas they\nput wanton obstacles in its way.\n\nHe who takes out a policy on his life finds it a condition that if\nhe commits suicide his policy will be forfeited--the assumption of\ninsurance offices being that if a man insures his life he intends to cut\nhis throat. Can this be true? What warrant of experience is there for\nthis expectation? Is not the natural, the instinctive, the universal\nlove of life security sufficient against self-slaughter? If life be\nthreatened, do not the most thoughtless persons make desperate effort to\npreserve it? Is it necessary for insurance societies to come forward\nto supplement incentives of nature? Is not the fact that a man is\nprovident-minded enough to think of insuring his life, proof enough that\nhis object is to live?\n\nAnswers to a series of questions are demanded from an insurer, which\naverage persons do not possess the knowledge to answer with exactitude;\nyet failure in any fact or detail renders the policy void, although a\nperson has paid premiums upon it for thirty or forty years.\n\nElaborate legal statements which few can understand are attached to a\npolicy which intimidates those who see them, from wishing to incur\nsuch unfathomable obligation. A few plain words in plain type would be\nsufficient for the guidance of the insured and the protection of the\ncompany. The uncertainty comes from permitting questions of popular\ninterest to be stated by a member of the legal profession. If the terms\nof eternal salvation had been drawn up by a lawyer, not a single soul\nwould be saveable, and the judgment day would be involved in everlasting\nlitigation.\n\nAn office known to me had judges among its directors, from which it was\ninferred by the insured that the office was straight. The holder of a\npolicy in it, making a will, his solicitor on inquiry found that the\noffice did not admit his birth. They had received premiums for forty\nyears, still reserving this point for possible dispute after the\npolicy-holder was dead, never informing him of it. When the insurance\nwas effected, they saw the holder of it and could judge his age to a\nyear. They saw the certificate of his birth, but gave him no assurance\nthat they admitted it and it had to be presented again.\n\nIn another case within my knowledge, the owner of a policy obtained a\nloan upon it, from a well-known lawyer in the City of London, who gave\nthe office, as is usual, notice of it. When the loan was repaid he again\nwrote to the office saying he had executed a deed of release of his\nclaim on the policy. That the office was not satisfied with this\nassurance was never communicated to the policyholder, and when many\nyears later, the lawyer who advanced the loan was dead, and his son who\nsucceeded him was dead, it transpired that the office did not believe\nthe assurances they had received. They admitted having received the\nletter by the loan maker, but required to see the deeds relating to\nthe advance and release and repayment of the loan; and they gave the\npolicyholder to understand that he had better keep those deeds, as\nhis executors might be required to produce them at his death. It was a\nmiracle they were not destroyed. As the office had been legally notified\nthat the claim on the policy had ceased, it was never imagined that\ndeeds which did not relate to the office could be required by it. Under\nthis intimidation the deeds have now been kept. They are fifty years\nold. This Scotland Yard practice of treating an insurer as a thief,\ndetracts from the fascination of thrift.\n\nAnother instance was that of a policy-holder who applied to the office\nfor a loan, for which 1 per cent, more interest was demanded than his\nbanker asked, and a rise of 1 per cent, in case of delay in paying\nthe interest, and a charge was to be made for the office lawyer\ninvestigating the validity of their own policy, upon which the office\nhad received premiums for forty-seven years.\n\nDirectors, like the Doge of Venice, should have a lion's mouth open, of\nwhich they have the key, when they might hear of things done in their\nname, not conducive to the extension of thrift.\n\nNo wonder thrift goes limping along, from walking in the jagged pathway\nwhich leads to some insurance office.\n\nThere are, as I know, offices straightforward and courteous, who foster\nthrift by making it pleasant. Yet, as one who has often advocated\nthrift, I think it useful to record my astonishment at the official\nimpediments to its popularity, which I have encountered. This is one\nreason why Thrift, the most self-respecting of all the goddesses that\nshould be swift-footed, goes limping along.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVII. MISTRUST OF MODERATION\n\nTemperance is restraint in use. Abstinence is entire avoidance, which is\nthe wise policy of those who lack the strength of temperance.\n\nHow necessary entire abstinence is to many, I well know. When the drink\npassion sets in, it leads to an open grave. The drinker sees it, and\nknows it, and, with open eyes walks into it. He who realises the danger,\nwould, as Charles Lamb said--\n\n     \"Clench his teeth and ne'er undo them,\n     To let the deep damnation trickle through them.\"\n\nFor such there is no salvation save entire abstinence. Thousands might\nhave been saved but for the fanaticism of abstinence advocates who\nopposed in Parliament every legal mitigation of the evil, thinking\nthe spectacle of it would force the legislature into prohibition. In\ndiscussions, lectures, articles, I advocated the policy of mitigation,\nand supported measures in Parliament calculated to that end,\nencountering thereby the strong dissent of temperance writers who, not\nintending it, connived at drunkenness as a temperance policy.\n\nIs it true that moderation is dead? Have teetotalers extinguished it as\na rule of daily life? Bishop Hall, in his fine way, said, \"Moderation\nwas the silken string running through the pearl chain of all our\nvirtues.\" Was this a mistake of the illustrious prelate? Is not\ntemperance a wider virtue than total abstinence? Is there no possibility\nof establishing temperance in betting? Can no limitation be imposed\non betting? The public know denunciatory preaching does not arrest it.\nInnumerable articles are written against it. Letters about it are not\nlacking in the editor's post-bag. Yet not a mitigation nor remedy is\nsuggested, save that of prohibition, which is as yet impossible.\n\nBetting is a kind of instinct, difficult to eradicate, but possible\nto regulate. Games of hazard, as card-playing or dice, are naturally\nseductive in their way. They are useful as diversions and recreation.\nThey exercise the qualities of judgment, calculation, and presence of\nmind, as well as furnish entertainment. It is only when serious stakes\nare played for that mischief and ruin begin.\n\nBut the seduction of card gambling--once widely irresistible--is now\nlargely limited by the growing custom of playing only for small stakes.\nFamily playing or club playing, professedly for money, is held to\nbe disreputable. Formerly, drinking which proceeded to the verge of\nintoxication, or went beyond it, was thought \"manly.\" Now, where the\neffects are seen in the face, or in business, it is counted ruinous to\nsocial or professional reputation. Drinking is far more difficult\nof mitigation than betting, because the temptations to it occur\nmuch oftener. The capricious habit of going in search of luck can be\nrestrained by common sense. Temperance in betting would be easier to\neffect were it not for the intemperate doctrine of total abstainers. By\ndefaming moderation they rob the holy name of temperance of its charm,\nits strength and its trust. By teaching that \"moderation is an inclined\nplane, polished as marble, and slippery as glass, on which whoever sets\nhis foot, slips down into perdition,\" they destroy moderation by making\nit a terror. It brings it into contempt and distrust, and undermines\nself-confidence and self-respect. Yet it is by moderation that we live.\nModeration in eating is an absolute condition of health--as the Indian\nproverb puts it: \"Disease enters by the mouth.\" A man who disregards\nmoderation in work, or in pleasure, or diet, seldom lives out half his\ndays. He who has no moderation in judgment, in belief, in opinion, in\npolitics, or piety, is futile in counsel, and dangerous in his example.\nIf the disparagement of self-control has not destroyed the capacity and\nconfidence of moderation in the public heart, temperance in betting is\nsurely possible.\n\nOccasionally a minister of religion will ask me what I have to say about\nbetting. I answer, \"It is difficult to extinguish it, but possible to\nmitigate it.\" I give an instance from my own experience.\n\nYears ago when I was editing the _Reasoner_, Dr. Shorthouse contributed\na series of instructive papers on the physiology of racing horses.\nOut of courtesy to him I took a ticket in a sweepstake in which he was\nconcerned, but in which I felt no interest. Months after, I saw that\nthe owner of the prize was unknown. My brother, knowing I had a ticket,\nfound it among my papers, and I received L50. I invested the amount,\nintending to use the interest in some future speculation, if I made any,\nwhich was not in my way. To that L50 there is added now more than L50 of\naccumulated interest, with which I might operate if so inclined. Were\nI in the crusade against betting I should say, \"Form societies for\nTemperance in Betting, of which the rules shall be--\n\n'\"1.--No member may make any bet unless he is able, having regard to his\nsocial obligations, to lose the sum he risks, and is willing to lose it,\nif he fails to win.\n\n'\"2.--When he does win anything, he shall invest it, and bet with the\ninterest, and every time he wins, shall add the amount to the original\ninvestment, which would give him a larger sum for future recreation in\nthat way.\"'\"\n\nThere is a Church of England Temperance Society which has the courage to\nbelieve in moderation, and which makes it a rule of honour to keep\nclear of all excess. Thousands in every walk of life have been saved to\nsociety under this sensible encouragement, and where an occasional act\nof excess would have been counted venial, it is regarded as revolting as\nan act of indecency.\n\nI have known men in the betting ring who made up their mind that when\nthey acquired a certain sum they would retire, nor step again in the\ntreacherous paths of hazard--and they kept their resolution. But very\nfew are able to do this, having no trained will.\n\nI am against extremes in social conduct, save where reason shows it to\nbe a necessity. If Betting Limited was approved by the public, betting\nat hazard would become as socially infamous as petty larceny. In the\ndearth of suggestions for the mitigation of an evil as serious as that\nof drunkenness, I pray forgiveness for that I have made.\n\nPrevious to 1868, I assisted in establishing the _Scottish Advertiser_\nconducted by Walter Parlane. It bore the following motto, which I wrote\nfor it:\n\n\"Whatever trade Parliament licenses, it recognises--and so long as\nsuch trade is a source of public revenue, it is entitled to public\nprotection.\"\n\nI still agree with the sentiment expressed. All I meant was a reasonable\nprotection of the interest which the law had conceded to the trade.\nThe predatory impudence of the monopoly privileges the trade has since\nextorted against the public interests was in no man's mind then. No one\nintended that the concession of just protection should be construed into\nextortion. As respects compensation, the temperate party refused it. I\nwas not of their opinion. I agreed with them that the publicans had\nno logical claim for compensation, but I would have conceded it as\nthe lesser of two evils, just as it was better to free the West Indian\nslaves by purchase than to continue their lawful subjection. If to\nmaintain in full force the legalised machinery of drunkenness be only\nhalf as dreadful in its consequences as temperance advocates truly\nrepresent, it would be cheaper as well as more humane to limit it by\ngraduated compensation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXVIII. PENAL CHRISTIANITY\n\nPredatory Christianity would not be far from the mark. Christianity is\nof the nature of a penal settlement where independent-minded persons are\nmade to expiate the sin of thinking for themselves. There can be no real\ngoodwill in any one who is not for justice and equality. No cause can\ncommand respect, or can claim a hearing from others which is not based\non absolute fairness. Many well-meaning Christians never inquire whether\nthe great cause they have at heart fulfils this condition. In the past\nthis omission has been a lasting cause of alienation from their views.\n\nBetween 1850 and 1860 there sat in St. Bride's Vestry, London, a\ngroup of Christian churchwardens who twice a year sent agents to seize\nproperty from my house in Fleet Street, because I refused to pay tithes.\nYet there are people who tell us without tiring, of the depravity of the\nFrench revolutionists and atheists who laid, or proposed to lay hands\nupon Church property. Yet these Christian officers, acting under the\neye of an opulent rector in the wealthiest capital in the world, seized\nclocks and bales of paper on the premises of heretics, in the name\nof the Church! Did not this disqualify the Church as ministers of\nconsolation? The greatest consolation is justice. Is it not spiritual\neffrontery to despoil a man, then invite him to the communion table?\nIn our day by predatory acts, they confiscate Nonconformist property to\nmaintain Church schools. Can it be that heaven recognised agents engaged\nin petty larceny? Are they intrusted with the keys of heaven? May the\npriest be a thief? Can a man expect to be admitted at the Golden Gate\nwith a burglar's passport in his hand? There exist penal laws against\nall who do not stand on the side of faith, which Nonconformists as\nwell as Churchmen connive at, profit by, and maintain. Is not this\ndestructive of their spiritual pretensions? Can they preach of holiness\nand truth without a blush? No higher criticism can condemn Christianity,\nas it is self condemned by resting on predatoriness. No person who does\nnot stand on the Christian side can leave property for promoting his\nviews, as a Christian can for promoting his. No Christian conscience is\ntouched at this disadvantage imposed upon the independent thinker. No\nsermon is preached against it. No Christian petition is ever set\nup against it. Neither the Church conscience nor the Nonconformist\nconscience is stirred by the existence of this injustice. It would cease\nif they objected to it. But they do not object to it.\n\nThere are prelates, priests, clergymen, and Nonconformist ministers\npersonally to be respected, who in human things I trust. But for their\nspiritual vocation, is it possible to have respect or trust? To tender\nconsolation with one hand while they keep the other in my pocket is\nan act never absent from my mind. I belong to a Secular party who seek\nimprovement by material means; but were there any body of Christians\nupon whom that party imposed legal disadvantages in its own interest,\nand kept them there by silence or connivance, Parliament would hear from\nme pretty frequently until the insulting privileges were annulled. Any\npretension to having principles worthy of acceptance, or regard, or\neven respect, would be impertinence in us so long as we were unfair to\nothers.\n\nI caused to be brought into Parliament a Bill in which Sir Philip\nManfield took the leading interest, entitled:--\n\nCivil and Religious Liberty Extension.\n\nA BILL\n\nTo secure the Extension of Civil and Religious Liberty.\n\n(Prepared and brought in by\n\nMr. Manfield, Sir Henry Boscoe,\n\nSir Geo. B. Sitwell, Mr. Picton,\n\nMr. Illingworth, Mr. W. McLaren,\n\nMr. H. P. Cobb, Mr. Howell,\n\nMr. Chas. Feiiwick, Mr. Benn,\n\nMr. Storey, and Mr. Hunter.)\n\nOrdered, by The House of Commons, to be Printed, 7 November 1893.\n\nPRINTED BY EYRE AND SPOTTISWOODE,\n\nPRINTERS TO THE QUEEN'S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY.\n\nAnd to be purchased, either directly or through any Bookseller, from\nEyre & Spottiswood, East Harding Street, Fleet Street, B.C., and 32,\nAbingdon Street, Westminster, 8.W.; or John Menzies & Co., 19, Hanover\nStreet, Edinburgh, and 90, West Nile Street, Glasgow; or Hodges, Ptoois\n6 Co., Limited, 104, Grafton Street, Dublin.\n\n[Price 1d.]\n\n[Bill 464.]\n\n\nMemorandum.\n\nThis Bill comprises but a small extension of religious equality.\nIts object is to enable a man \"to do what he likes with his own\" for\nadmittedly lawful purposes. It is affirmed by legal decisions that any\nman may believe what he pleases, speak what he pleases, publish his\nhonest conviction, provided he does it in a temperate and considerate\nmanner; and he may, while living, give money to maintain his views. All\nthis Bill seeks is that he may, at his death, bequeath money for such\npurpose. This Bill merely proposes to extend a right which Christians\nof every denomination enjoy, but which hitherto has been denied to those\nwho may conscientiously object to prevailing opinions.\n\n\nBILL TO\n\nSecure the Extension of Civil and Religions Liberty.\n\nWHEREAS\n\n1 it is expedient to remove the Disabilities under which persons suffer\ndesirous of endowing, creating, and maintaining charitable and other\nTrusts for religious and ethical inquiry, so as to further extend civil\nand religious liberty:\n\n2 Nothing contained in this Act shall affect or be deemed to repeal\nor contravene in any way such parts of the Act 9 George II., cap. 36,\nrelating to Mortmain as remain unrepealed, or any other Act amending\nor altering such Act; and the provisions of all such Acts now in force\nshall apply to all Trusts created under this Act.\n\n3 After the passing of this Act, notwithstanding any Act, Rule of Common\nLaw, Rule of Equity, or Rule of Practice of any Court of Justice now in\nforce to the contrary, it shall be lawful for any person to create and\nendow, or create or endow, any Trust for inquiry into the foundations\nand tendency of religious and ethical beliefs which from time to time\nprevail, or for the maintenance and propagation of the results of such\ninquiry. And the method of application of Bequests made for the\npurposes aforesaid shall be, on the part of those responsible for their\nadministration, subject to revision at intervals of thirty years.\n\n4 Such Trust, whether created by Deed or Will, or by other instrument,\nshall be deemed a charitable Trust, and shall be administered and given\neffect to in all respects in as full and complete a manner as in the\ncase of religious and charitable Trusts now recognised by Law; and the\ndoctrine of _Cy-pres_ shall be applied to it when circumstances shall\narise requiring the application of such doctrine.\n\n\nThis Bill was not proceeded with. It required a member like Samuel\nMorley, of known Christianity and a conscience, to carry it through the\nHouse.\n\nA theory has been started that by registering an association, under the\nFriendly Societies Act, it would legalise its proceedings and virtually\nrepeal all the laws confiscating bequests. No case of this kind has come\nbefore the higher courts. To do the Government justice, I know no case\nin which the Crown has interfered to confiscate a bequest on the ground\nof heresy in its use. Members of families, legally entitled to the\nproperty of a testator, may claim the money and get it. If the family\nenters no claim the bequest takes effect. In the meantime the state of\nthe law prevents testators leaving property for the maintenance of their\nopinions, and Christians bring charges against philosophical thinkers\nfor lack of generosity in building halls as Christians do chapels.\nThe Christian reproaches the philosopher for not giving, when he has\nconfiscated the bequest of the philosopher and the power of giving.\n\nPriests often mourn at the disinclination to listen to the tenets they\nproclaim, and advertise in the newspapers the melancholy fact that only\none person in five is found on Sunday in a place of worship, and do not\nremember how many persons remain away, not so much from dislike of the\ntenets preached, as from dislike of the injustice which they would have\nto share if they belonged to any Christian communion.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIX. TWO SUNDAYS\n\nNone of our Sunday Societies or Sunday Leagues seem ever to have thought\nof the advantages of advocating as I have long done--two Sundays--a\nDevotional Sunday and a Secular Sunday.\n\nThe advocacy of two Sundays would put an end to the fear or pretence\nthat anybody wants to destroy the one we have.\n\nThe Policy of a Second Sunday is a necessity.\n\nIt would put an end to the belief that the working classes are mad, and\nnot content with working six days want to work on the seventh.\n\nIt would preserve the present Sunday as a day of real rest and devotion.\nThe one Sunday we now have is neither one thing nor the other. Its\ninsufficiency for rest prevents it being an honest day of devotion.\nProper recreation is out of the question. There is too little time for\nexcursions out of town on the Saturday half-day holiday. Imprisonment in\ntown irritates rather than refreshes--mere rest is not recreation.\n\n     \"A want of occupation gives no rest\n     A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.\"\n\nThose who would provide recreation in the country find it not worth\nwhile for the precarious chance of half-day visitors. On a Secular\nSunday recreation would be organised and be more self-respecting than it\nnow can be.\n\n1. It would conduce to the public health. The manufacturing towns of\nEngland are mostly pandemoniums of smoke or blast-furnace fumes. The\nwinds of heaven cannot clear them away in one day--less than forty-eight\nhours of cessation of fire and fume would not render the air breathable.\n\n2. With two Sundays one would be left undisturbed, devoted to repose, to\npiety, contemplation and improvement of the mind.\n\n3. It would give the preacher intelligent, fresh-minded and\nfruitful-minded hearers, instead of the listless, wearied, barren-headed\nauditors, who lower the standard of his own mind by forcing upon him the\nendeavour to speak to the level of theirs.\n\n4. A second Sunday would give the people real rest when nobody would\nfrown upon them, nor preach against them, nor pray against them.\n\n5. It would be cheaper to millowners to stop their works two clear days\nthan run them on short days; and there need not be fears of claims of\nfurther reduction of forty-eight hours a week on the part of workpeople,\nwho would have a real sense of freedom from unending toil with two days'\nrest and peace. Manufacturing towns would no longer be, as now,\npenal settlements of industry. Holiness would no longer be felt to be\nwearisomeness.\n\nBut for Moses, the changes here sought would have existed long ago. One\nday's rest in the week was enough for Jews who were doing nothing when\none Sunday was prescribed to them. Had Moses foreseen the manufacturing\nsystem, instead of saying \"six days,\" he would have said, \"Five days\nshalt thou labour.\"\n\nIf he deserves well of mankind who makes two blades of wheat grow where\nonly one grew before; he deserves better who causes two Sundays to exist\nwhere only one existed before--for corn merely feeds the body, whereas\nreasonable leisure feeds the mind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XL. BYWAYS OF LIBERTY\n\nIt is worth while recording the curious, not to say ignominious, ways\nfrom which justice to new thought has emerged. In the 5 and 6 Victoriae,\ncap. 38, 1842, the trial of eighteen offences were removed from\nthe jurisdiction of Justices of the Peace in Quarter Sessions and\ntransferred to the Assize Court. Persons accused were often subject to\nmagisterial intolerance, ignorance and offensiveness.\n\nAmong the transferred offences were forgery, bigamy, abductions of\nwomen. \"Blasphemy and offences against religion,\" often of doubtful\nand delicate interpretation, were two of the subjects taken out of\nmagisterial hands and placed under the decision of better-informed and\nmore responsible judges. \"Blasphemy\" was the general title under which\natheism, heresy, and other troubles of the questioning intellect were\ndesignated. \"Composing, printing or publishing blasphemous libels,\" were\nincluded in the list of subjects to be dealt with in higher courts. Thus\nbetter chances of justice were secured to thinkers and disseminators\nof forbidden ideas. This new charter of thought, which conceded legal\nfairness to propagandism, was not the subject of a special statute, but\nwas interpolated in a list, which read like an auctioneer's catalogue,\neluded Parliamentary prejudice, which might have been fatal, had it been\nformally submitted to its notice.\n\nIn the same manner the Affirmation Act, which changed the status of the\ndisbeliever in theology from that of an outlaw to that of a citizen,\ncrept into the Statute Book through a criminal avenue. A Bill to\nadmit atheists, agnostics, or other conscientious objectors to the\necclesiastic oath, to make a responsible affirmation instead, was twice\nor thrice thrown out of the windows of Parliament. Sir John Trelawny\nused to say Mr. Gathorne Hardy (afterwards Lord Cranbrook) would rise\nup, as I have seen him, with a face as furiously red as one of his own\nblast furnaces at Lowmoor, and move its rejection. It was passed at\nlast by the friendly device of G. W. Hastings, M.P., the founder of the\nSocial Science Association, in a Bill innocently purporting to better\n\"promote the discovery of truth\" by enabling persons charged with\nadultery to give evidence on their own behalf.\n\nThen and there a clause was introduced which had no relation to the\nextension of the right to give evidence, but upon the exemption of an\nentirely different class of persons from the obligation of making oath.\nAdulterers appear always to be Christians, since no case is recorded in\nwhich any party in an adultery action professed any scruple at taking\nthe oath. Yet the Bill set forth that \"any person in a civil or criminal\nproceeding who shall object to make an oath,\" shall make a declaration\ninstead. When the Bill became an Act secular affirmation became\nlegalised. Thus by a clause treading upon the heels of adultery, the\nwitness having heretical and unecclesiastical convictions was enabled to\nbe honest without peril.\n\nIn 1842, as I witnessed at the Gloucester Assizes, no barrister would\ndefend any one accused of dissent from Christianity, but apologised for\nhim and proclaimed his contrition for his sin of thinking for himself.\nSlave thought of the mind, chained to custom, could be defended, but not\nFree Thought, which is independent of everything save the truth. By the\nAct of 1869* atheists ceased to be outlaws, and were henceforth enabled\nto give evidence in their own defence. Wide-awake and vigilant as a\nrule, bigotry was asleep that day. Thus by circuitous and furtive paths\nthe right of free thought has made its way to the front of the State.\n\n     * 32 & 33 chap. 68, Evidence Amendment Act\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLI. LAWYERS' LICENCE\n\nThe extraordinary legal licence of disordered and offensive imputation\nhas been limited since 1842. In those days, officers of the law, who\nalways professed high regard for morality and truth, had no sense of\neither, when they were drawing up theological indictments. In the affair\nat Cheltenham I delivered a lecture on Home Colonies (a proposal similar\nto the Garden Cities of to-day), to which nobody objects now. As\nI always held that discussion was the right of the audience, as\nself-defensive against the errors of lecturer or preacher, an auditor,\navailing himself of this concession, arose in the meeting and asked:\n\"Since I had spoken of duty to man, why I had said nothing of duty\nto God\"? My proper answer was, that having announced one subject, the\naudience would have a right to complain that I had trepanned them into\nhearing another, which they would not hear willingly. Such a reply would\nhave been received with outcries, and the Christian auditor would have\nsaid, \"I dare not answer the question--that I held opinions I was afraid\nto disclose.\" All the while the questioner knew that an honest answer\nmight have penal consequences, which he intended to invoke. Christians\nin those days lacked winning ways. I gave a defiant answer, which caused\nmy imprisonment. There was no imputation in my reply, which merely\nproduced merriment.\n\nYet my indictment said I \"was a wicked, malicious, evil-disposed\nperson,\" and that I \"wickedly did compose, speak and utter, pronounce\nand publish with a loud voice, of and concerning the Holy Scriptures, to\nthe high displeasure of Almighty God, and against the peace of our Lady\nthe Queen.\" Every sentence was an outrage, and nearly every word untrue.\nI was not wicked, nor malicious, nor evil-disposed. I did not compose\nthe speech--it was purely spontaneous. I never had a loud voice. I never\nreferred to the Holy Scriptures, and I only disturbed the peace of our\nLady the Queen by a ripple of laughter.\n\nI carried no arms. I was known as belonging to the \"Moral Force Party\"\nin politics, and was entirely unprepared to attack any person, let alone\none Omnipotent with \"force of arms.\" The imputations in the indictment\nwere not only untrue, but contained more blasphemy than was in the mind\nof any one to utter. I called the Judge's attention to the atrocity\nof the language of the indictment He did not say there was anything\nobjectionable in it, which showed that the morality of the Bench was\nnot higher at that time than the morality of the magistrates. In the\n_Cheltenham Chronicle_, known in the town as the Rev. Francis Close's\n(afterwards Dean of Chichester) paper, I was described as a \"miscreant\"\nfor the answer I had given to my auditor. Mr. Justice Erskine had no\nword of reproof for the infamous term applied to me.\n\nAs I have elsewhere said, I spoke in my defence upwards of nine hours.\nThe length was owing to the declaration of one of the magistrates (Mr.\nBransby Cooper) that the Court would not hear me defend myself. Why I\ndefended myself at all, was from a very different reason.\n\nNo barrister in those days would defend any one charged with dissenting\nfrom the Christian religion. The counsel always apologised to the jury\nfor the opinions of his client, which admitted his guilt. This was done\nat that very assizes at which I was tried. A Mr. Thompson, a barrister\nin Court, who we mistook for a son of General Perronet Thompson, also\nat the Bar, was engaged to defend George Adams, charged with an act\nof heresy. The false Thompson expressed contrition for Adams, without\nknowing or inquiring whether it was true that he felt it. Neither\ncounsel nor magistrate nor judge seemed to think it necessary that what\nthey said should be true.\n\nThus my justification of the seeming presumption of defending myself was\nthe fact that no counsel would defend us without compromising us. I\nhad no taste for martyrdom. I did not want martyrdom; I did not like\nmartyrdom. Martyrdom is not a thing to be sought, but a thing to be\nsubmitted to when it comes.\n\nThis narrative shows that, in one respect, legal taste and truth have\nimproved in my time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLII. CHRISTIAN DAYS\n\nMany religious thinkers, ecclesiastical and Nonconformist, whose\nfriendship I value, will expect from me in these autobiographic\npapers some account of the origin of opinions in which they have been\ninterested. Sermons, speeches, pamphlets, even books have been devoted\nto criticism of my heresies. It is due to those who have taken so much\ntrouble about me that I should explain, not what the opinions were--that\nwould be irrelevant here--but how I came by them. That may be worth\nrecounting, and to some serious people perhaps worth remembering.\n\nConfessions are not in my way. They imply that something it was prudent\nto conceal has to be \"owned up.\" Of that kind I have no story to\ntell. An apologia is still less to my taste. I make no apology for\nmy opinions. I do not find that persons who dissent from me, ever so\nstrenuously, think of apologising to me for doing so. They do right in\nstanding by their convictions without asking my leave. I hope they will\ntake it in good part if I stand by mine without asking theirs.\n\nMy mother did not go to the Established Church, to which her father\nbelonged. She had natural piety of heart, and thought she found more\npersonal religion among the Nonconformists than in the Church.\nShe attended Carr's Lane Chapel, where the Rev. John Angell James\npreached--who had a great reputation in Birmingham for eloquence and\nfor his evangelical writings. He was notorious in his day for denouncing\nplayers and ambitious preachers seeking to excel in the arts of this\nworld; which caused the town people to say that he was dramatic against\nthe drama and eloquent against eloquence. His name, \"Angell\" James,\nbegat a belief that it was descriptive of himself, and that his\ndoctrines were necessarily angelic. It seems absurd, but I shared this\nbelief, and should not have been surprised to hear that he had some\nelementary development of wings out of sight At the same time, Mr. James\ngave me the impression of severity in piety, and my feeling towards him\nwas one of awe, dreading a near approach.\n\nSome years after, I held a discussion of several nights with the Rev.\nW. J. Winks, of Leicester, who wrote to Mr. James to make inquiries\nconcerning me. In 1881, some thirty-five years after the discussion,\nMr. Winks' son showed me a letter which Mr. James wrote in reply saying:\n\"Holyoake was a boy in my Sunday School five years. He then went,\nthrough the persuasion of a companion, to Mr. Cheadle's for a short\ntime, then to the Unitarian school (I believe entered a debating\nsociety), and became an unbeliever. He is a good son and kind to his\nmother, who is a member of one of our Baptist churches.\"\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Cheadle, of whom Mr. James speaks, was a Baptist minister.\nIt is true I went to his church--my sister Matilda became a member\nof it--but I never joined it The ceremony of baptism there was by\nimmersion. It seemed poetical to me when I read the account of baptism\nin the Jordan; but I could not make up my mind to be baptised in a tank.\nThe reason, however, that I gave at the time was the stronger and\nthe true one--that I did not feel good enough to make a solemn public\nprofession of faith. Mr. James was misinformed; I never belonged to a\ndebating society.\n\nIt was very good of him to write of me so, when he must have been very\nmuch pained at the opinions he believed me then to hold. A man may\nspeak generously privately, but he means it when he says the same thing\npublicly; and Mr. James did this. He wrote to a similar effect in the\n_British Banner_ at the time when the Rev. Brewin Grant was painting\nportraits of me in pandemonium colours.\n\nA small Sunday School Magazine came into my hands when I was quite a\nyouth. It was edited by the Rev. W. J. Winks. As communications were\ninvited from readers, I sent some evangelical verses to him. The first\ntime of my seeing my initials in print was in Mr. Winks's magazine.\n\nAfter a time, partly because the place of worship was nearer home, my\nmother joined a little church in Thorpe Street, and later one in Inge\nStreet. They were melancholy little meeting-houses, and, as I always\naccompanied my mother, I had time to acquire that impression of them.\nA love of art was in some measure natural to me, and I thought that the\nTemple of God should be bright, beautiful and costly. As I was taught to\nbelieve that He was always present there, it seemed to me that He should\nnot be invited (and all our prayers did invite Him) into a mean-looking\nplace. It was seeing how earnestly my mother prayed at home for the\nwelfare of her family, how beautiful and patient was her trust\nin heaven, and how trouble and misery increased in the household\nnotwithstanding, that unconsciously turned my heart to methods of\nsecular deliverance. She had lost children. I remember the consternation\nwith which she told us one Sunday night that her pastor, the Rev. Mr.\nJames, had stated in his sermon his fearsome belief that there were\n\"children in hell not a span long.\" That Mr. James believed it seemed\nto us the same as its being in the Bible. Another time he preached about\nthe \"sin against the Holy Ghost, which could never be forgiven, either\nin this world or the world to come.\" My mother's distress at the thought\nmade a great impression upon me. A silent terror of Christianity\ncrept into my mind. That one so pure and devout as my mother, who was\nincapable of committing sin knowingly, should be liable to commit this,\nand none of us know what it was, nor how or when consequences so awful\nwere incurred, seemed to me very dreadful.\n\nThe first death at home of which I was conscious, occurred at a time\nwhen Church rates and Easter dues were enforced and augmented by a\nsummons. None of us were old enough to take the money to the public\noffice, and a little sister being ill, my mother, with reluctance, had\nto go. A small crowd of householders being there on the same errand,\nshe was away some hours. When she returned, my sister was dead; and the\nthought that the money extorted by the Church might have succoured, if\nnot saved the poor child, made the distress greater. My mother, always\nresigned, made no religious complaint, but I remember that, in our\nblind, helpless way, the Church became to us a thing of ill-omen. It was\nnot disbelief, it was dislike, that was taking possession of our minds.\n\nA man in my father's employ, who was superintendent of a Congregational\nChapel School at Harborne, a village some three or four miles from\nBirmingham, asked me to assist as monitor in one of his classes. I was\nso young that John Collins, who preached at times in the chapel, took me\nby the hand, and I walked by his side. The distance was too far for\nmy little feet, and in winter the snow found its way through my\nshoes. Collins afterwards became known as a Chartist advocate, and\nwas imprisoned in Warwick Gaol with William Lovett, on the ground of\npolitical speeches. They jointly wrote the most intelligent scheme\nof Chartist advocacy made in their day. Elsewhere I have recounted\nincarcerations which befel many of my friends, proving that, within the\nmemory of living men, the path of political and other pilgrims lay by\nthe castles of giants who seized them by the way.\n\nIn the Carr's Lane Sunday School I was considered an attentive,\ndevout-minded boy. All the hymns we sang I knew by heart, as well as\nmost parts of the Bible. The only classic of a semi-secular nature my\nmother had in her house was Milton's \"Paradise Lost\"; we had besides\na few works of ponderous Nonconformist divines, of which Boston's\n\"Fourfold State\" was one, to which I added Baxter's \"Saints' Everlasting\nRest.\" I devoured whatever came in my way that was religious. Being\nthought by this time capable of teaching the little that was deemed\nnecessary in an Evangelical Sunday school, I came to act as a\nsmall teacher at the Inge Street Chapel. These people were known as\nPaedo-Baptists--what that meant not a single worshipper knew. The point\nof doctrine which they did understand was that children should not be\nbaptised when their small souls were in the jelly-fish state and knew\nnothing. When their little minds had grown and had some backbone\nof sense in them, and some understanding of religious things, the\ncongregation thought that sprinkling them into spiritual fellowship\nmight do them good.\n\nThough my mother admitted that adult baptism was more reasonable, she\nnever listened to the doctrine of baptism by immersion. She disliked\ninnovation in piety. She had great tenacity in quiet belief, and thought\npublic immersion a demonstration--very bad bathing of its kind--and\nmight give you a cold.\n\nFew young believers showed more religious zeal than I did in those days.\nOn Sunday morning there was a prayer on rising, and one before leaving\nhome. At half-past seven the teachers were invited to meet at chapel\nto pray for a blessing on the work of the day. When school commenced at\nnine o'clock the superintendent opened it with prayer, and closed it at\neleven with another prayer. Then came the morning service of the chapel,\nat which I was present with my class. That included three prayers. At\ntwo o'clock school began again, opening and ending with prayers by the\nsuperintendent, or by some teacher who was asked \"to engage\" in it,\nin his stead. At the close of the school, another prayer-meeting\nof teachers was held, for a blessing on the work done that day. At\nhalf-past six evening service took place, which included three\nmore prayers. Afterwards, devout members of the congregation held\na prayer-meeting on behalf of the work of the church. At all these\nmeetings I was present, so that, together with graces before and after\nmeals three times a day, and evening prayers at time of rest, heaven\nheard from me pretty frequently on Sundays. Many times since I have\nwondered at the great patience of God towards my unconscious presumption\nin calling attention so often to my insignificant proceedings. Atonement\nought to include the sin of prayers.\n\nNor was this all. At chapels in Birmingham (1834), when anniversary\nsermons had been preached on Sunday by some ministers of mark, there\nwould commonly be a public meeting on Monday at which they would speak,\nand to which I would go. On Tuesday evening I went to the Cherry Street\nChapel, where the best Wesleyan preachers in the town were to be heard.\nOn Wednesday I often attended the Carr's Lane sermon. Thursday would\nfind me at the Bradford Street chapel, where there usually sat before\nme a beautiful youth, whose sensuous grace of motion gave me as much\npleasure as the sermon. I remember it because it was there I first\nbecame conscious of the charm of human strength and proportion. I had\nthe Greek love of beauty in boys--not in the Greek sense, of which I\nknew nothing.\n\nOn Friday I generally went to the public prayer-meeting in Cherry\nStreet, because Wesleyans were bolder and more original in their prayers\nthan other Christians. In frequenting Wesleyan chapels I could not help\nnoticing that their great preachers were also men of great build, of\ngood width in the lower part of the face. Afterwards I found that their\nsocieties elsewhere were mostly composed of persons of sensuous make.\nTheir preachers having strong voices, and drawing inspiration mainly\nfrom feeling, they had boldness of speech; and those who had imagination\nhad a picturesque expression. Independents and Baptists often tried\nto solve doubts, which showed that their convictions were tempered by\nthought to some extent; but the Wesleyan knew nothing of thought--he put\ndoubt away. He did not recognise that the Questioning Spirit came from\nthe Angel of Truth. To the Wesleyans, inquiry is but the fair-seeming\ndisguise of the devil, and to entertain it is of the nature of sin.\nThese preachers, therefore, knowing nothing of the other side, were\nunder none of the restrictions imposed by intelligence, and they\ndenounced the sceptics with a force which seemed holy from its fervour,\nand with a ferocity which only ignorance could inspire. So long as I\nknew less than they, their influence over me continued. Yet it was not\nvigorous denunciation which first allured me to them, though it long\ndetained me among them--it was the information I had received, that they\nbelieved in universal salvation, which had fascination for me. There was\nsomething generous in that idea beyond anything taught me, and my heart\ncleaved to the people who thought it true. This doctrine came to me\nwith the force of a new idea, always enchanting to the young. Had I been\nreared among Roman Catholics, I should have worshipped at the church\nof _All_ Souls instead of the church of One Soul. Any Church whose name\nseemed least to exclude my neighbours would have most attracted me.\n\nAll the fertility of attendance at chapels recounted did not, as the\nreader will suppose, produce any weariness in me, or make me tired\nof Christianity. The incessant Bible reading, hymns, prayer, and\nevangelical sermons of Carr's Lane, Thorpe Street, and Inge Street did\ntire me. There was no human instruction in their spiritual monotony. My\nmind aches now when I think of those days. When I took courage to visit\nvarious chapels, the variety of thought gave me ideas. The deacons of\nthe Inge Street Chapel bade me beware that \"the rolling stone gathered\nno moss.\"* Yet I did gather moss.\n\n     * Thomas Tusser, of the sixteenth century, to whom the\n     phrase is ascribed, said: \"The stone that is rolling can\n     gather no moss.\"\n\nThough I was then hardly fifteen, the other teachers would gently ask me\nif I would engage in prayer in their meetings, which meant praying aloud\namong them. The idea made me tremble. I was very shy, and the sound of\nmy own voice was as a thing apart from me, for which I was responsible,\nand which I could not control. Then, what should I say? To say what\nothers said, to utter a few familiar scriptural phrases, diluted by\nignorant earnestness, seemed to me, even at that time, an insipid\noffering of praise. Then it occurred to me to notice any newness of\nthought and expression I heard in week-day discourses, and with them I\ncomposed small prayers, which brought me some credit when I spoke them,\nas they were unlike any one else's. But only once--at a Friday night's\nchurch meeting--did I pray with natural freedom. Afterwards I avoided\nrequests to pray, as I thought it unreal to be thinking more of the\nterms of the prayer than the simple spirit of it, and I hoped that one\nday fitting language would become natural to me.\n\nIt is proof that my mind was as free from scientific inspiration as\nany saint's, since I had no misgiving as to the effect of prayer. If\nChristianity were preached for the first time now to well-to-do people,\nable to help themselves, it would be treated like Mormonism in America;\nbut to the poor who have neither money nor reflection, Christianity, as\na praying power, is a very real thing. People who have no idea that help\nwill, or can, come in any other way, are glad to think that it may\ncome from heaven. It had never been explained to me that low wages\nwere caused by there being too many labourers in the market, or that\nill-health is caused by poor food and hard condition. It was my daily\nhabit to pray for things most necessary and always deficient, not for\nmyself alone, but for others to whom in their need I would give, at any\ncost to myself--to whom, if disinterested prayers were answered, any God\nof sympathy would give. Yet, though no prayer was answered, it did not\nstrike me that that method of help failed. Prayer was no remedy, yet I\ndid not see its futility. Had I spent a single hour only in \"dropping\na bucket into an empty well, never drawing any water up,\" I should not\nhave continued the operation without further inquiry. It never struck me\nthat, if preachers could obtain material aid by prayer, or knew any form\nof supplication by which it could be obtained, they might grow rich in\na day by selling copies of that priceless formula. No Church would be\nneedy, no believer would be poor.\n\nIn those days Christianity was a very real thing to me. What was part of\nmy conviction was also part of my life. So far as I had knowledge, I was\nlike the parson of Chaucer, who--\n\n     \"Christ's love and his Apostles twelve\n     Taught, and _first he followed it himselve_.\"\n\nThis I did with a zeal of spirit which neither knew nor sought any\nevasion of the letter.\n\nAt this time there came to Birmingham one Rev. Tully Cribbace, a\nmiddle-aged man with copious dark hair, pale, thin face, and earnest,\nunceasing speech. The zealous members of many congregations went to hear\nhim. He interested me greatly. He rebuked our Churches, as is the way\nwith new, wandering preachers--_without appointments_--for their want of\nfaith in the promise of Christ, who had said that \"Whatsoever ye shall\nask in My name, that will I do.\" I had the belief, I had asked in His\nname; but nothing came of it. With insufficient clothing I had gone out\nin inclement weather to worship, or to teach, trusting in that promise\nthat I should be protected if no gifts of clothing came from heaven. No\ngifts did come, but illness from exposure often did. In a very anxious\nspirit I went to Mr. Cribbace's lodgings in Newhall Street, where he had\nsaid inquirers might call upon him. When he asked me \"what I wished to\nsay,\" I at once, not without emotion, replied, \"Do you really believe,\nsir, what you said? Is it true that what we ask in faith we shall\nreceive? I have great need to know that.\"\n\nMy seemingly abrupt and distrustful question was not a reflection upon\nhis veracity of speech. Mr. Cribbace quite understood that from my\ntone of inquiry. It never struck me that his threadbare dress, his\nhalf-famished look, and necessity of \"taking up a collection\" the\nprevious night \"to pay expenses,\" showed that faith was not a source of\nincome to him. Yet he had told us that faith would be all that to us,\nand with a sincerity which never seemed to me more real on any human\nlips. He did not mistake the earnestness or purport of my question. He\nparried with his answer with many words, and at length said that \"the\npromise was to be taken with the provision that what we asked for would\nbe given, if God thought it for our good.\" Christ did not think this; He\ndid not say it; He did not suggest it. Knowing how many generations of\nmen to the end of the world would imperil their lives on the truth of\nHis words, He could not suffer treacherous ambiguity to creep into His\nmeaning by omission. His words were: \"If it were not so, I would have\ntold you.\" There was no double meaning in Christ, no reticence, no\nhalf-statement, leaving the hearer to find out the half-concealed words\nwhich contradicted the half-revealed. All this I believed of him, and\ntherefore I trusted Christ's sayings.\n\nSt. Chrysostom, in the prayer of the Church Litany, does not stop, but\nkeeps open the gap through which this evasion crawls. \"Almighty God,\" he\nsays, \"who dost promise that when two or three are gathered together in\nThy name, Thou wilt grant _their_ requests. Fulfil _now_, O Lord, the\ndesires and petitions of Thy servants, as may be most _expedient_\nfor them.\" Christ was no juggler like St. Chrysostom. A prayer is a\ndeposit--the money of despair paid into a bank; but no one would pay\nmoney into a bank if they were told they would get back only as much as\nwas good or expedient for them.\n\nMy heart sank within me as Mr. Cribbace spoke the words of evasion.\nThere was nothing to be depended upon in prayer. The doctrine was a\njuggle of preachers. They might not mean it or think it straight out,\nbut this is what it came to. Christ a second time repeated the words:\n\"If ye shall ask anything in My name, I will do it.\" However it might be\ntrue in apostolic days, it was not true in ours, and the preachers knew\nit, and did not say so. Christ might as well be dead if the promise\nhad passed away. Christianity had no material advantage to offer to the\nbeliever, whatever else it may have had.\n\nMr. Cribbace spoke the truth now; I could see that. Never did that\nmorning pass from my mind. That answer did not make me disbelieve, but I\nwas never again the same Christian I had been before. The foundation on\nwhich every forlorn, helpless, uninformed, trusting believer rests had\nslipped--slipped away from under my feet. Whatever Christianity might\nbe, it was no dependence in human need. The hard, material world was not\ntouched by prayer. How else it could be moved I then knew not.\n\nFor myself, I did not think about the terms of the Bible, but believed\nthem. If there was an exception, it related to the saying of Christ that\nevery \"idle word\" men should speak should be recorded against them. If\n\"idle words\" were to go down, then angry or wicked words would also be\nrecorded. At night, as I made my last prayer, I tried to think over\nwhat I had said or done which might have been added to that serious\ncatalogue, and thus I suffered more than my fair share of alarm. I did\nnot know then that the rich have a much smaller account against them\nabove than the poor, and that they fare better than the indigent in\nheaven, as they do on earth. A gentleman has his house and grounds, no\none he dislikes can enter his home. His neighbour cannot much annoy him;\nhe is at a distance from him. If he has a feud with his annoyer, he does\nnot meet him above once a year, perhaps at a county ball, and there he\ncan \"cut\" him; while a poor man lives in a house where he has several\nfellow-lodgers, who have done him a shabby turn, and whom he meets four\nor five times a day on the stairs. Evil thoughts come into his heart,\nevil words escape his lips, and he himself employs a recording angel\nall his time in taking down his offences, while the rich man has,\nperadventure, only a single note made against his name once a week.\n\nIt was after I had been some time at the Mechanics' Institution--which\nwas quite a new world of thought to me--that I was asked if I would\nconduct a class at the New Meeting Unitarian Sunday school. The rooms\nin which the Mechanics' Institution was held were those of the Sunday\nschool of the Old Meeting-house, no other being obtainable. Since\nanything I knew had been taught me by these generous believers, it\nseemed to me natural that they should invite me to assist in one of\ntheir schools, and that I should comply. My consenting was not because\nI shared their tenets. The Rev. Mr. Crompton, whose sister subsequently\nbecame Mrs. George Dawson, asked me after a time what my view was as to\nthe unity of Deity. My answer was that I believed in three Deities.\nI had never thought of the possibility of all this great world being\nmanaged by _one_ Being. My preference for the acquaintance of Unitarians\nwas that there was so much more to be learned among them than among any\nother religious body I had known. My invitation to their school was to\nteach Euclid to one class, and the simpler elements of logic to another.\nThese were subjects never thought of in the Evangelical Sunday schools\nto which I had belonged. The need of human knowledge had become very\nclear to me. I could see that young men of my age trained in Unitarian\nschools were very superior to Evangelical youths, who had merely\nspiritual information. Devoutness I knew to be goodness; but I could\nsee it was not power. My personal piety did not conceal from me my\ninferiority to those better informed. This made me grateful to the\nUnitarians, who cared on Sundays for human as well as spiritual things;\nand I thought it a duty to help them, as far as my humble attainments\nmight enable me.\n\nAs soon as this was known in the Inge Street church, to which I was\nconsidered to belong, the elders spake unto me thereupon. I was invited\nto a prayer-meeting, which I readily consented to attend, when I found\nthat all the prayers were directed against me--were mere solicitations\nto heaven to divert my heart from continuing to attend the Unitarian\nschools. It would be wronging my sincere and well-meaning friends\nof that time, to recount the deterrents they used and the fears they\nexpressed. Religion refined by human intelligence was regarded then as a\nform of sin. At the end I did not dissent from their view, but I made\nno promise to do what they wished. It seemed to me a sin that any youths\nshould be as ignorant as I had been, and I refuse to give them such\nknowledge as I had acquired. In this matter of teaching I said it\nwas right to do as the Unitarians did, but wrong to believe as they\nbelieved. This opinion I held all the while I was a teacher in their\nSunday school.\n\nHad these prayerful friends of mine succeeded in their object of\npersuading me from association with these larger believers, they would\nhave shut the door of freedom, effort and improvement for me. My lot\nwould have been to spend my days inviting others, with much earnestness,\nto cherish like incapacity. Yet I have no word of disrespect for their\nhonest-hearted endeavour to advise me, as they thought, for the best.\nIt was the desire of knowledge which saved me from their dangerous\ntemptation.\n\nThe Meeting-house to whose Sunday school I went, was the one where Dr.\nPriestley formerly preached. It was my duty on a Sunday to accompany my\nclass into chapel during the morning service. The scholars' seats were\nnear the gallery stairs. The other teachers sat at the end of the forms,\nfarthest from the stairs. I always chose the end nearest the stairs.\nWhen invited to sit elsewhere I never explained the reason why I did\nnot. My reason was my belief that the wickedness of the preacher, in\naddressing only one Deity, would one day be resented by heaven, and that\nthe roof would fall in upon the congregation. As I did not share their\nfaith, I thought I ought not to partake of their fate; and I thought\nthat by being near the stairs I could escape--if I saw anything\nuncomfortable in the behaviour of the ceiling, which I frequently\nwatched. Being the person who would first understand what was about to\nhappen, I concluded that my descent would be unimpeded by the flying and\nunsuspecting congregation. It seems to me only yesterday that I sat\ncalculating my chance of escape as Mr. Kentish's sonorous and\ninstructive sermon was proceeding.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIII. NEW CONVICTIONS WHICH CAME UNSOUGHT\n\nThese singular instances of bygone experience of a religious student,\nof which few similar have ever been given, must be suggestive--perhaps\ninstructive--to religious teachers in church and chapel, engaged in\ninculcating their views. How much happier had been my life had there\nthen existed that tolerance of social effort, that regard of social\nneeds, that consideration of individual aspiration, which happily now\nprevail. This chapter will conclude what Herbert Spencer would call the\n\"natural history\" of a mind, or, as Lord Westbury would say, \"what I am\npleased to call my mind.\"\n\nOne evening, at the Mechanics' Institution, Birmingham, I was told that\nRobert Owen, who had unexpectedly arrived in town, was likely to speak\nin Well Lane, Allison Street, and was asked \"would I go?\" Mistaking\nthe name for Robert Hall, I said I would. Of Robert Owen I had scarcely\nheard; of the Rev. Robert Hall (who had denounced all deflectors from\nthe Baptist standard with brilliant bitterness) I had heard, admired\n(and do still), and much desired to see. Great was my disappointment\nwhen I discovered the mistake. As Mr. Owen passed me on entering the\nroom, I--a mere youth--looked at the aged philosopher (who had been\nworking for human welfare long before I was born) with an impertinent\npity. I felt also some real terror for his future, as I thought what\na \"wicked old man\" he must be. I had been assured by Robert Hall that\nmorality without faith was of no avail in the eye of God.\n\nEventually it became known at the works where I was employed that I had\nbeen to hear Robert Owen, and remarks were made. In those days (1837-8)\nadvocates of social reform were called \"Socialists.\" Some of the remarks\nmade against them were unjust Some \"Socialists\" were fellow-students at\nthe Mechanics' Institution. These commentators made the usual mistake of\nconcluding that the social thinkers in question must hold the opinions\nit was inferred that they held. At that time I did not understand this\nway of reasoning, though no doubt I used it myself, as those among whom\nI was reared knew no better. Everybody was sure that an opponent must\nmean what you inferred he meant, and charged against him the inference\nas a fact--never thinking of inquiring whether it was so. If I was not\nmisled by those confident arguments, it was because I knew that the\npersons accused were leal and kind in daily life. Out of mere love\nof fairness I defended them to my working associates, as far as my\nknowledge went. Being told that \"I did not know what their principles\nwere\" caused me to read their pamphlets and to hear some lectures. For\na year or more I used the knowledge thus gained against the uninformed\nimpressions of their aspersers around me.\n\nWell do I remember that one day, as I passed two workmen in the\nmill-yard, one said to the other, \"That is young Holyoake the sceptic.\"\nThey did not know that \"sceptic\" merely meant a doubter in search of\nevidence. They used the word in the brutal sense of one who disbelieved\nthe truth, knowing it to be the truth. The term startled me, as I\nneither believed nor assumed to believe what I had reported as the\nopinions of my friends. For myself, I had no thought of holding their\nopinions. The heresy supposed to be included in them was, indeed, my\naversion. Then I made the resolution to examine their principles, with a\nview to show what arguments I could myself bring against them. Great\nwas my dismay when, after months of thought, I found that the questioned\ntenets seemed, on the whole, to be true. These tenets were that wise\nmaterial circumstances were likely to have a better influence on men\nthan bad ones; and that, men having general qualities which they have\ninherited, the treatment of the worst should be tempered by compassion\nfor their ill-fortune. Then it concerned me no more what any one said of\nme. It was as though I had passed into a new country, leaving behind\nme the barren land of supplication for a land of self-effort and\nimprovement; and entered into the fruitful kingdom of material\nendeavour, where help and hope dwelt. Heretofore doubt and perturbation\nas to whether I was of the \"elect\" had oft agitated me. Now, I had no\nbonds in the death of my disproved opinions--no struggle, no misgivings.\nWithout wish or effort of mine, I was delivered by reason alone from the\nprison-house in which I had dwelt with its many terrors. Not all at once\ndid the terrors go. They long hovered about the mind like evil spirits\ntempting me to distrust the truth written in the Book of Nature, of\nwhich I believed God to be the author.\n\nSome time before this change in my opinion occurred I had taken in, out\nof my slender savings, the beautiful Diamond edition of the Rev.\nMr. Stebbing's Bible in parts. The type was very fine, the outline\nillustrations seemed to me very beautiful; they affect me with\nadmiration still. It was the first book with marks of art about it that\nI had possessed. I had it bound in morocco, with silver clasps. It was\nquite a wonder in the workshop when I took it there. To possess many\nthings I never cared, but if I had only one, and it had some beauty and\nfinish in it, it was to me as though I had a light in my room at night,\nand the thought of it made me glad in the dark. A fellow-workman of\nsincere piety, whom I respected very much, coveted this Bible, and\ninduced me to sell it to him, which I did, as I had it in my mind to get\nanother bound in a yet daintier way.\n\nSimple and natural as was this transaction, it was misconstrued. It was\nsaid I had \"sold\" my Bible, as though it was my act instead of being\nthe act of another. Next it was reported that I had \"burnt\" it. Thus I\nbecame a founder of myths without knowing it. Nevertheless, it gave me\npain--for nothing was more alien to my mind, my taste and reverence,\nthan the act imputed to me. But what made a greater impression upon me,\nit being inconceivable, and unforeseen, was that he who induced me to\npart with my valued volume never came forward to say so. The inspiration\nof Christianism I had taken to be personal truth which could be\ntrusted. In the noblest minds it is so still. But for the first time I\nfound a Christian could be mean.\n\nIt was about this period that a poor woman I knew drew near to death\nfrom consumption. At times I visited and read the Scriptures to her. One\nnight I asked her if she would like some one to pray with her. As she\nwished it, I induced one with whom I had been a Sunday school teacher to\ncome with me one evening and pray by her side.\n\nThe consolation was very precious to her, and that is why I sought it\nfor her. At no time did it seem to me that everybody should be of one\nopinion, since honesty of life consists in living and dying in that\nopinion of the truth of which you are convinced. This man whom I took\nwith me was a workman, poor, mean, and utterly uninformed. In religious\nsympathy he inclined to the Ranters, who are not at all melodious\nChristians. Yet heaven might respect his prayer as much as a bishop's,\nfor he had given up his night, after a hard day's labour, to afford what\nhumble consolation he could to this poor woman.\n\nOne sentiment that had always possessed me was a pleasure in vengeance.\nI had quite a distinct passion of hatred where I was wronged, and had\nno means of resistance or redress. A man in my father's employ did\nsomething very unfair to me when I was quite a youth, and during nine\nyears that I worked by his side I did not forget it or forgive it. The\nLord's prayer taught me that I should \"forgive those who trespassed\nagainst me,\" and at times I thought I had forgiven him, but I never had.\nChristian as I was, the revengeful lines of Byron long influenced me:--\n\n     \"If we do but watch the hour,\n     There never yet was human power,\n     That could evade, if unforgiven,\n     The patient search and vigil long\n     Of him who treasures up a wrong.\"\n\nNo sermon, no prayer, no belief, no Divine command, rendered me neutral\ntowards those I disliked. Neither authority nor precept had force which\ngave no reason for amity. But when I came to understand Coleridge's\nsaying that \"human affairs are a process,\" I could see that patience and\nwise adaptation of condition was the true method of improvement, since\nthe tendency to nobleness or baseness was alike an inheritance nurtured\nby environment. If tempest of the human kind came, precaution and not\nanger--which means ignorance taken by surprise--was the remedy. Pity\ntakes the place of resentment. Clearly, vengeance did but add to the\nmisfortune of destiny.\n\nI oft pondered Hooker's saying, that \"anger is the sinew of the soul,\nand he that lacketh it hath a maimed mind.\" Nevertheless, I am content\nto be without that \"sinew.\" Anger is rather the epilepsy of the\nunderstanding than the dictate of reason. I had come to see that there\nare no bad weeds in Nature--but much bad gardening. The reasons of amity\nhad become clear to me, and that Helvetius was right. We should \"go on\nloving men, but not expecting too much from them.\" Even Hooker could not\nwin me back to the profitless pursuits of anger and retaliation.\n\nThese bygone days left their instruction with me evermore. In them I\nlearned consideration for others. Whatever my convictions, I was always\nthe same to my mother. The wish to change her views never entered my\nmind. She had chosen her own. I respected her choice, and she respected\nmine. In after years, when I visited Birmingham, I would read the Bible\nto her. She liked to hear my voice again as she had heard it in earlier\ndays. When her eyes became dim by time I would send her large type\neditions of the New Testament, and of religious works which dwelt upon\nthe human tenderness of Christ. The piety of parents should be sacred\nin the eyes of children. Convictions are the food of the soul, which\nperisheth on any other diet than that which can be assimilated by the\nconscience.\n\nOne of the bygones which had popularity in my day was silence,\nwhere explicitness was needed. Nothing is more grateful to the young\nunderstanding than clear, definite outlines. _The Spectator_ (July 23,\n1891) said that \"Dean Stanley could not at any time have exactly defined\nwhat his own theology really was.\" George Dawson, who charmed so many\naudiences and was under no official restraint, never attempted it.\nEmerson, who criticised everybody who had an opinion, never disclosed\nhis. Carlyle, who filled the air with adjurations to sincerity of\nconviction, carefully concealed his own. They who take credit for\nadvising the public what to believe should avow their own belief. Otway,\ncrossing the street to Dryden's house, wrote upon his door: \"Here lives\nDryden, a poet and a wit.\" Seeing these words as he came out, Dryden\nwrote under them: \"Written by Otway opposite,\" which might mean: \"This\nis but a partial and friendly estimate written by my neighbour who lives\nover the way, opposite to me\"; or, it might mean that \"It is written by\nOtway--the very 'opposite' of 'a poet and a wit.'\" Janus sentences\nare the very grace of satire, because they offer a mitigating or a\ncomplimentary construction; but in questions of conscience, ethics, or\npolitics, uncertainty is an evil--an evil worth remembering where it can\nbe avoided.\n\n\"Socialists\" were liable to indictment who officiated in a place not\nlicensed as a place of worship. Such a license could be obtained on\nmaking a declaration on oath that their discourses were founded on\nbelief in the cardinal tenets of the Church. Two social speakers were\nsummoned to swear this. One was the father of the late Robert Buchanan.\nHe and his colleague did so swear to avoid penalties, though they swore\nthe contrary of the truth. I joined with other colleagues in protesting\nagainst this humiliation and ignominy. And in another way imprisonment\ncame to all of us. Silence or the oath was the alternative from which\nthere was no escape. The question then arose, \"Was the existence of\nDeity so certainly known to men that inability to affirm it justified\nexclusion from citizenship?\" Thus it was of the first moment to inquire\nwhether it was so or not, and what was regarded as an atheistical\ninvestigation became a political necessity in self-defence. Was there\nsuch conclusive knowledge of the Unknowable as to warrant the law in\nmaking the possession of it a condition of justice and civil equality?\nThus the refutation of Theism became a form of self-defence, and without\nforeseeing it, or intending it, or wishing it, I was, without any act of\nmy own, engaged in it.\n\nThis narrative concerns those who deplore the rise and popularity of\nindependent thinkers, alien to received doctrine. Few persons are aware\nhow or why agnostic advocacy was welcomed and extended. Surely this is\nworth remembering. The tenet bore statute fruit, for the Affirmation Act\ncame out of it.\n\nIt will be a satisfaction to students of spiritual progress to know that\nthe extension and legalisation of the rights of conscience, brought no\nirreverence with it. The sense that the nature of Deity was beyond the\ncapacity of dogmatism to define, created a feeling of profound humility\nin the mind; the incapacity which disabled me from asserting the\ninfinite premises of Theism rendered denial an equal temerity. What\ntongue can speak, what eye can see, what imagination can conceive the\nmarvels of the Inscrutable? I think of Deity as I think of Time, which\nis with us daily. Who can explain to us that mystery? Time--noiseless,\nimpalpable, yet absolute--marshals the everlasting procession of nature.\nIt touches us in the present with the hand of Eternity, and we know it\nonly by finding that we were changed as it passed by us.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLIV. DIFFICULTY OF KNOWING MEN\n\nEvents of the mind as well as of travel may be worth remembering.\nColumbus, high on a peak of Darien, saw an unexpected sight--never to\nbe forgotten. Of another kind, as far as surprise was concerned, though\ninfinitely less important in other respects, was my first reading of a\npassage of Pascal, which more than any other revealed to me a new world\nof human life. The passage was the well-known exclamation:--\n\n\"What an enigma is man? What a strange, chaotic and contradictory being?\nJudge of all things, feeble earth-worm, depository of the Truth, mass of\nuncertainty, glory and butt of the universe, incomprehensible monster!\nIn truth, what is man in the midst of Nature? A cypher in respect to the\ninfinite; all, in comparison with nonentity: a mean betwixt nothing and\nall.\"\n\nEverybody knows that not only in different nations, but in the same\nnation, mankind present a strange variety of qualities and passions.\nThe English are outspoken, the Scotch reticent, the Irish uncertain, the\nAmerican alert, the French ceremonial. Even our English counties have\ntheir special ways of action. London is confident, Birmingham dogged,\nManchester resolute, New-castle-on-Tyne has greater modesty and greater\npride than any other place. Yes; every one agrees with Pascal that man\nis a bewildering creature. He is proud and abject, generous and mean,\ndefiant and craven, standing up for inflexible truth, and lying in his\ndaily life. As Byron says, \"Man is half dust, half deity.\" If we go far\nenough in our search we find people of all qualities. Everybody sees\nthese characteristics of countries and classes. Everybody recognises\nthese conflicting elements of character in a race; but what amazed me\nwas to perceive that they are to be found in _each_ person in varying\nproportion and force--they are all there. The varieties of the race are\nto be found in the same individual. No man who understands this\never looks upon society as he did before. Not knowing this fact, not\ncalculating upon it, error, distrust, disappointment, estrangement, grow\nup needlessly.\n\nTwice within the public recollection, two political parties in England\nhave been formed, and made furious by a common ignorance. During the\ngreat Slave War in America, the Southern planter was held up as a\ngentleman of polished manners, of cultivated tastes, a paternal master\nand courteous host By others he was described as selfish, sensual,\ntyrannical, with whom any guest who betrayed sympathy with slaves had an\nunpleasant time. Both accounts were true. The same model gentleman who\nshowered upon you courtly attentions would tar and feather you if he\nfound you display emotion when you heard the shriek of the slave under\nthe whip. Later, Parliament, the press, and the Church were divided upon\nthe character of the Turk. One party said he was tolerant, picturesque,\nabounding in concessions and hospitality. The other party described him\nas subtle, evasive, treacherous, vicious, and cruel. No one seemed to\nrecognise that all the while he was both these things. He was an\nadept in personal deference, generous in professions, evasive and\ntreacherous--in short, \"Abdul the Damned.\" To those from whom the Sultan\nhad anything to hope, his graciousness was superb--to those at his mercy\nhe was rapacious and murderous.\n\nThe Circassians will offer their daughters to the Turk--they send\ntheir virgin beauty into the market of lust, and then fight for the\npurchasers. The Hindoos seem a gentle, unresisting, rice-minded people;\nyet have such capacity of heroic and vigilant reticence, that though we\nhave been masters of India for one hundred and fifty years, it is said\nby experienced officials, we do not know the real mind of a single man.\nThe Zulus have savage instincts and habits; but they are honest, speak\nthe truth, and despise a man who is angry or excited.\n\nThiers, the great French statesman, had trust in individuals, but\ndespised the masses. Yet the masses pulled down the Bastile, where only\ngentlemen were imprisoned and not themselves. The masses were moved by a\ngenerous dislike of oppression as strongly as Thiers himself.\n\nPresident Washington, looking only at the corruption of classes he came\nin contact with, predicted evil to the future of American society. Yet,\none hundred years after, a latent nobleness of sentiment appeared, which\ngave a million of lives in order that black men with large feet, as was\nscornfully said, should be free.\n\nBecause oppression had made, for years, assassination frequent in\nItaly, many thought every man carried a stiletto, and did not know that\nItalians are more patient and cooler-headed on great occasions than\nEnglishmen or Frenchmen.\n\nThe Irish do not conceal that they are our enemies, and ruin every\nEnglish movement in which they mingle, yet who have such brightness,\ndrollery of imagination as they? Or who will stand by a friend of their\ncountry at the peril of their lives without hesitation as they do?\n\nThe Scotch display in contest a sort of divine ferocity, such as we read\nof in the Old Testament. Their battle song at Flodden ran thus:--\n\n     \"Burn their women, lean and ugly,\n     Burn their children, great and small,\n     In the hut and in the palace,\n     Prince and peasant--burn them all.\n\n     Plunge them in the swelling torrents\n     With their gear and with their goods;\n     Spare--while breath remains--no Saxon,\n     Drown them in the roaring floods.\"\n\nThe Irish could not excel this rage of hell. Yet the same race gave us\nBurns and Sir Walter Scott, which no seer would have predicted or any\nwould believe. The Scotch have deliberate generosity. Though narrow in\npiety they are broad in politics and have veracity in their bones.\n\nIt concerns us to notice that in every _individual_ there is the same\nvariety of qualities which exist in the race. Not to understand this is\nto misunderstand everybody with whom we come in contact. Take the\ncase of a man in whom personal ambition predominates. That implies\nthe existence of other qualities which may be even estimable, though\nsubordinated to ends of power. William, the Norman Conqueror, had a\ngracious manner to any who lent themselves to further his ends; but, as\nTennyson tells us, he was \"stark as Death to those who crossed him.\"\nThe first Napoleon gave thrones to generals who would occupy them in his\ninterest, or as his instruments. The third Napoleon was very courteous\neven to workmen, so long as he believed they would be on his side in\nthe streets; but their throats were not safe in the corridor outside his\naudience chamber, if he distrusted them.\n\nThis unexpected blandishment confused the strong brain of John Arthur\nRoebuck, who, under the influence of Bonapartean courtesy, forgot that\nhe had become Emperor by perjury and murder. A man caring above all\nthings for power will give anything to acquire it or hold it. If any one\nwill help him even to plunder others, he will share the plunder with a\nliberal hand among his confederates, who proclaim him as a most amiable,\ngenerous, and disinterested gentleman. To them he is so. The political\nworld and private life also abounds in men who, like Byron's captain,\nwas the \"best-mannered gentleman who ever scuttled a ship or cut a\nthroat.\"\n\nThere are very few who say as Byron elsewhere wrote:--\n\n     \"I wish men to be free,\n     From Kings or mobs--from you or me.\"\n\nThe point of importance is that in judging a man we should accustom\nourselves to see all about him, and, while we hate the evil, not shut\nour eyes to what there may be of good in the same person.\n\nFor objects of popularity men will encounter peril in promoting measures\nof public utility, and though they care more for themselves than for the\npublic, the public profit by their ambition. Provided it is understood\nthat these advocates are not to be depended upon any longer than it\nanswers their purpose, nobody is discouraged when they take up with\nsomething else, which better serves their ends.\n\nMen like Mr. Gladstone have a passion for conscience in politics; or,\nlike Mr. Bright, have a passion for justice in public affairs; or,\nlike Mr. Mill, have a passion for truth; or, like Mr. Cobden, who had\na passion for national prosperity founded on freedom and peace--will\nencounter labour and obloquy with courage, and regard applause only as\na happy accident, caring mainly for the consciousness of duty done.\nHowever, this class of men are not numerous, but command honour when\nknown.\n\nMen of the average sort very much resemble fishes, except that they are\nless quiet and not so graceful in their movements. There is the Pholas\nDactylus, which resembles a small, animated sausage with a pudding head.\nHis plan of life is to bore a perfectly tubular passage in the soft sand\nrock on the sea-side, and lie there with his cunning head at the mouth\nof his dwelling and snap up the smaller creatures who wander heedlessly\nby. Sometimes a near relative has made a dwelling-place at right angles\nto the direction in which he has elected to make his residence. He does\nnot consult the rights or convenience of any one, but bores straight\nthrough his father or his mother-in-law. There are many persons who\ndo the same thing. There is the subtle and picturesque devil fish, who\nhides himself in the sedge and opens his mouth like a railway tunnel.\nWith the fishing-rod which Nature attaches to his nose, the end of which\nis contrived like a bait, he switches the bright water until fish run\nforward, when he draws it cleverly up, and the foolish, impetuous, and\nunobservant creatures rush down his cavernous and treacherous throat He\noffers a bait, not to feed them, but to feed himself. If people had\nonly eyes to see, there are devil fish about in the sedges of daily\nlife--political, clerical, and social. There is the octopus, with its\nlong, aimless arms, as silent and lifeless as seaweed. It lies about as\nidle, as soft, as flexible, and as easy as error, or intemperance, or\ndishonesty. But let any edible thing approach it, and every limb starts\ninto energy, every fibre is alive, every muscle contracts, and the thing\nseized dies in its inextricable and iron arms. People abound of the\noctopus species, and it is prudent to avoid them. However, the bad are\nnot so many as are supposed. Yet, when we consider that, upon a moderate\ncalculation, a fool a day is born--and doubtless a knave a day to keep\nhim company--there must be some dubious people about.\n\nA common mistake is that of taking offence at some unpleasant quality,\nand never looking to see whether there be not others for which we may\ntolerate and even respect a man. A person is often judged by a single\nquality, and sometimes by a single word. Persons who have lived long\nyears in amity take offence at one expression. It may be uttered in\npassion; it may be spoken in mere lightness of heart, with no intention\nand no idea of offending--yet it enters into the foolish blood of those\nwho hear it, and poisons the mind evermore. Nevertheless every man who\nreflects knows that those are fortunate and even miraculously skilful\npeople, who can always say exactly what they intend to say, and no more.\nWhat resource of language--what insight of the minds of others--what\nmastery of phrases--what subtlety of discrimination--what perspicuity\nof statement must he possess who can express his every idea with such\nunerring accuracy that no word shall be redundant, or deficient, or\nambiguous; and that another shall understand the speaker precisely as he\nunderstands himself! Yet by a chance phrase what friendships have been\nsevered--what enmity has arisen--what estrangements, even in households,\nhave occurred from these small and incidental causes? All memory of the\ntenderness, the kindness, the patient and generous service of years\nis often obliterated by a single word! The error people make is--that\neverything said is intended. Yet out of the many qualities every man\nhas, and by which any man may be moved, a single passion may go mad in\na mind unwatchful. Not only hatred or anger, but love will go mad and\ncommit murder, which is often but the insanity of a minute. Yet nobody\nremembers that all are liable to insanity of speech.\n\nWhat a wonderful thing is perfection! It must be very rare. Yet some\npeople are always looking for it in others who never offer any example\nof it in themselves. It is not, however, to be had anywhere. All we are\nentitled to look for is that the good in any individual shall in some\ngeneral way predominate over the bad. We have need to be thankful if we\nfind this. The late George Peabody was not a mean man, though he would\nstand in the rain at Charing Cross, waiting for a cheap omnibus to the\nCity. There was a threepenny one waiting, but one with a twopenny fare\nwould come up soon--Mr. Peabody would wait for it Making money was the\nhabit of his mind, and he made it in the street as well as the office,\nand having made it, gave it away with a more than royal hand.\n\nOne Sunday I rode in a Miles Platting tram car, amid decorous,\nwell-dressed chapel-going people--several of them young and active. A\nchild fell out of the tram, whose mother was too feeble to follow it. No\none moved, save a woman of repulsive expression, with whom any one might\nsuppose her neighbours had a bad time. She seemed the least desirable\nperson to know of all the passengers; yet this woman, on seeing the\nchild lying in the road, at once leapt out of the tram, brought the\nchild back and put it tenderly into its mother's arms. Intrepid humanity\nmay dwell in a very rough exterior.\n\nThere goes a man with a hard, forbidding face, and a headachy\nEvangelical complexion. Like the man mentioned in the last paper, he is\nnot an alluring person to know--those at his fireside have a dreary time\nof it. His children have joyless Sundays. He is a street preacher.\nHis voice is harsh and painful. He howls \"glad tidings\" at the street\ncorner. He is wanting in the first elements of reverence--those of\nmodesty and taste. Yet this same man has kindness and generosity in his\nheart After his hard day's work is done he will give the evening,\nwhich others spend in pleasure, to try and save some casual soul in the\nstreet.\n\nThough we continually forget it, we know that men are full of mixed\nqualities and unequal passions. Ignorance of this renders one of the\nnoblest passages of Shakespeare dangerous if misapplied:\n\n     \"To thine own self be true,\n     And it must follow as the night the day,\n     Thou canst not then be false to any man.\"\n\nBut what is a man's \"own self\"? It all lies there. Tell the liar, the\nthief, the forger, or the ruffian to be true to himself, and any one\nknows what will follow. Polonius knew the heart of Laertes, and to him\nhe could say, \"to thine own self be true.\" We must be sure of the nature\nof him whom we advise to follow himself.*\n\n     * Cicero appears to have thought of this when he said:\n     \"Every roan ought carefully to follow out his peculiar\n     character, provided it is only peculiar, and not vicious,\"\n\nWhat is or what can be the object of education but to strengthen by\nprecept, habit and environment the better qualities of human nature;\nand to divert, repress, or subordinate where we cannot extinguish\nhereditary, unethical tendencies? Though we deny--or do not steadily\nsee--that nations as well as individuals have capacities for good\nas well as evil, we admit it when we attempt to create international\ninfluences, which shall promote civilisation.\n\nIf any would avoid the disappointment of ignorance and the alarms of\nthe foolish, let him learn to look with unamazed expectancy at what will\nappear on the ocean of Society. Do not look in men for the qualities you\nwant to find, or for qualities you imagine they ought to have, but look\nwith unexpectant eyes for what you can find. Do not expect perfection,\nbut a few good points only, and be glad if you find them, and be\ntolerant of what is absent. Of him of this way of thinking it may be\nsaid, as was said of Charles Lamb: \"He did not merely love his friends\nin spite of their errors, he loved them errors and all.\" Whoever remains\nunder the delusion that nations and men possess only special qualities,\nand not all qualities in different stages of development, will hate\nthem foolishly, praise them without reason, and will never know men.\nBut whoever understands the trend of things in this ever-changing,\nuncontrollable world, where\n\n     \"Our fate comes to us from afar,\n     Where others made us what we are,\"\n\nwill utter the prayer of Sadi, the Persian poet: \"O God! have pity on\nthe wicked, for Thou hast done everything for the good in having made\nthem good.\" A prayer worth remembering.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLV. IDEAS FOR THE YOUNG\n\nThere are people who live many years and never grow old. We call\nthem \"young patriarchs.\" Limit not the golden dreams of youth, which,\nhowever, would be none the worse for a touch of the patriarch in them.\nThere is sense in youth, and it will assimilate the experience of age if\ndisplayed before rather than thrust upon it. Youth should be incited to\nthink for itself, and to select from the wisdom it finds in the world.\nThen the question comes--what is safe to take? That is the time for\nwords of suggestion. Every one has read of the fox, who seeing a crow\nwith a piece of cheese in her bill, told her \"she had a splendid voice,\nand did herself an injustice by not singing.\" The credulous crow began\na note, dropped the piece of cheese, with which the fox ran away. This\ntrick is always being played. Among young persons there are a great\nnumber of crows. A youth is given a situation where advancement goes\nwith assiduity. A fox-headed comrade or clerk below him tells him his\n\"work is beneath his talents, and he ought to get something better.\"\nDiscontent breeds negligence. He loses his place, when the treacherous\nprompter, whom he took to be his friend, slips into his situation, and\nfinds it quite satisfactory.\n\nIn public affairs, in which youth seldom takes part, many are confused\nby pretences which they understand when too late. A person puts forward\nan excellent project, and finds it assailed and disparaged by some one\nhe thought would support it. Discouraged by opposition, he comes\nto doubt the validity of the enterprise he had in hand. When he has\nabandoned it he finds it taken up by the very person who denounced it,\nand who claims credit for what he has opposed. All the while he has\nthought highly of the scheme, but wanted to have the credit of it\nhimself, and therefore defamed it until he could get it into his own\nhands. This sort of thing is done in Parliament as well as in business.\nIt is only by listening to the experience of others that youth can\nacquire wariness and guard against serious mistakes.\n\nThe young on entering life are often dismayed by dolorous speeches by\npersons who have never comprehended the nature of the world in which\nthey find themselves. People are told \"a great crisis in public affairs\nis at hand.\" There never was a time in the history of the world when a\n\"crisis\" was not at hand. Nature works by crises. Progress is made up of\ncrises through which mankind has passed. Again there breaks forth upon\nthe ears of inexperienced youth the alarming information that society is\n\"in a transition state.\" Every critic, every preacher, every politician,\nis always saying this. Yet there never was a time when society was\nnot in a \"transition state.\" According to the Genesian legend, Adam\ndiscovered this in his day, when, a few weeks after his advent, he found\nhimself outside the gates of Paradise, and all the world and all\nthe creatures in it thrown into a state of unending perturbation and\ndiscomfort which has not ceased to this day. The eternal condition of\nhuman life is change, and he who is wise learns early to adapt himself\nto it. As Dr. Arnold said, there is nothing so dangerous as standing\nstill when all the world is moving.\n\nThe young are bewildered by being left under the impression that they\nshould learn everything. Whereas all they need is to know thoroughly\nwhat their line of duty in life requires them to know. No man can read\nall the books in the British Museum, were arrangements made for his\nsleeping there. No one is expected to eat all he finds in the market,\nbut only so much as makes a reasonable meal. Lord Sherbrooke translated\nfrom the Greek guiding lines of Homer who said of a learner of his\nday:--\n\n     \"He could not reap, he could not sow,\n     Nor was he wise at all:\n     For very many arts he knew,\n     But badly knew them all.\"\n\nThe conditions of personal advancement can only be learned by observing\nthe steps of those who have succeeded. Disraeli, whose success was the\nwonder of his time, owed it to following the shrewd maxim that he who\nwants to advance must make himself necessary to those whom he has the\nopportunity of serving. This can be done in any station in life by\nskill, assiduity and trustworthiness.\n\nPractical thoroughness is an essential quality which gives great\nadvantage in life. Spurgeon had a great appreciation of it A servant\ngirl applied to him for a situation on the ground that she \"had got\nreligion.\" \"Yes,\" said the great pulpit orator, \"that is a very good\nthing if it takes a useful turn; but do you sweep under the mats?\" he\nasked, cleanliness being a sign of godliness in the eyes of the sensible\npreacher.\n\nCleanliness is possible to the very poorest--walls which have no paper\nmight have whitewash. Children should never see dirt anywhere. They\nshould never come upon it lying out of sight. Fever and death lurk in\nneglected corners. Children may be in rags, but if they are clean rags\nand the children are clean, they are, however poor, respectable. When I\nfirst went to speak in Glasgow, it was in a solemn old hall, up a wynd.\nThe place was in the Candleriggs. Everybody knows what a dark, clammy,\npasty, muddy, depressing thoroughfare is the Candleriggs in wintry\nweather.\n\nThe passage leading to the lecture hall and the steps which had to be\nascended were all murky and dirty; as in those days the passage leading\nto the publishing house of the Chambers Brothers was, as I have seen it,\nan incentive to sickness. My payment for lecturing was not much, but out\nof it I gave half a crown to an active woman I found in the wynd to\nwash down the stairs and the passage leading to the Candleriggs, and\nthe space as wide as the passage along the causeway to the curb-stone.\nPeople passing along might see signs of cleanliness leading to the hall.\n\nI never forget what the woman said to some of the assembly as they\npassed by her: \"I don't know what this man (or \"mon\") is, who you have\nto lecture to you to-day, but at least he has clean principles.\" That\nwas precisely the impression I wanted to create. My tenets might be\npoor, my arguments badly clothed, but to present them in a clean state\nwas in my power.\n\nDo not readily be deterred from a good cause because you will be told\nit is unprofitable, but take sides with it if need be. You will find\npersons born with a passion of putting the world to rights. A very good\npassion for the world, but now and then a very bad thing for him who is\nmoved by it They have no engagement to undertake that work, no salary is\nallotted for it, nor even any income coming in to pay expenses \"out of\npocket,\" as the prudent, open-eyed lawyer puts it. Nevertheless, it may\nbe well to follow the Jewish rule of giving a tithe of your time to the\npublic service. There are a large amount of tithes contributed in other\nways which are not half so beneficial to mankind. Many whose names\nnow are luminous in history, whose fame is on every tongue, have been\npersonally known to the old. The magical notes of great singers the\nliving can never know, the triumphs of the great masters of speech in\nParliament and on the platform, whom it was an education to hear--only\nthe old can recount. What they looked like, and how they played their\nmemorable parts, are the enchanting secrets of the old, who tell to the\nyoung what passed in a world unknown to them, and which has made them\nwhat they are. The purport of this chapter is to stimulate individuality\nand self-reliance. Disraeli's maxim of self-advancement was to make\nhimself necessary by service in the sphere in which he found himself. In\npublic affairs committees are not, as a rule, suggestive; they can amend\nwhat is submitted to them; they originate nothing, and generally take\nthe soul out of any proposal brought before then. If they advance\nbusiness it is when some individual provides a plan to which their\nconsent may be of importance. Individual ideas have been the immemorial\nsource of progress. A committee of one will often effect more than a\ncommittee of ten; but the committee of ten will multiply the force of\nthe one, and lend to it influence and authority. Seeing that ideas\ncome from individuals, a young person cannot do better in life than\nby considering himself a committee of one, and ponder himself on every\nmatter of importance. This gives a habit of resourceful thought--renders\nhim cautious in action, and educates him in responsibility. In daily\nlife a man has continually to decide things for himself without the aid\nof a committee. It is thus that self-trust becomes his strength.\n\nIf youth could see but a little with the eyes of their seniors, some\npleasures would seem less alluring, and they would avoid doing some\nthings which they will regret all their lives. Now and then some young\neye will glance at a page of bygone lore and see a gleam of inspiration,\nlike a torch in a forest, which reveals a bear in a bush which he had\nchosen for a picnic, or discovers a bog which he had taken to be solid\nground. Proverbs come around the young observer, so fair seeming he\ntrusts them on sight, and does not know they are only in part guiding\nand in part elusive, and have limitations which may betray him into\nconfident and futile extremes. Even professors will beguile him with\nstatements which he doubts not are true, and finds, all too late, that\nthey are false.\n\nHe will hear forebodings which fill him with alarm at some new\nundertaking, not knowing that they are but the sounds of the footfalls\nof Progress, which every generation has heard, the ignorant with terror,\nand the wise with gladness. Only the relation of bygone experiences can\nsave the young from perilous illusions. Of course, youth is always asked\nto look at things with the eyes of age, but they never do. They never\ncan do it, because the eyes of the old look at things with the light\nof experience which, in the nature of things, youth is without.\nNevertheless, the experience of others may be good reading for them.\n\nIf in the generous eagerness of youth the heart inclines to a forlorn\nhope, take it up notwithstanding its difficulties, for if youth does\nnot, older people are not likely to attempt it. The older are mostly too\nprudent to do any good in the way of new enterprise. This is where youth\nhas its uses and its priceless advantage. However, it is well not to let\nenthusiasm, noble as it may be, blind the devotee. Take care that the\ncause espoused is sound. Take heed of the Japanese maxim,\n\n     \"The lid, if the pot be broken,\n     It is no use mending.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVI. EXPERIENCES ON THE WARPATH\n\nThe late Archbishop of Canterbury spoke derisively of agitators. The\nRev. Stewart Headlam asked whether \"Paul, and even our Lord Himself,\nwere not agitators.\" Mr. Headlam might have asked, where would the\nArchbishop be but for that superb, irrepressible agitator Luther? The\nagitator is a public advocate who speaks when others are silent. Mr.\nC. D. Collet, of whom I here write, was an agitator who understood his\nbusiness.\n\nAgitation for the public welfare is a feature of civilisation. In a\ndespotic land it works by what means it can. In a free country it seeks\nits ends by agencies within the limits of law. The mastery of the means\nleft open for procuring needful change, the right use, and the full use\nof these facilities, constitute the business of an agitator.\n\nFor more than fifty years I was associated with Mr. Collet in public\naffairs, and I never knew any one more discerning than he in choosing\na public cause, or on promoting it with greater plenitude of resource.\nMany a time he has come to my house at midnight to discuss some new\npoint he thought important. A good secretary is the inspirer of the\nmovement he represents. Mr. Collet habitually sought the opinion of\nthose for whom he acted. Every letter and every document was laid before\nthem. On points of policy or terms of expression he deferred to the\nviews of others, not only with acquiescence, but willingness. During the\nmore than twenty-four years in which I was chairman of the Travelling\nTax Abolition Committee and he was secretary, I remember no instance to\nthe contrary of his ready deference. His fertility of suggestion was a\nconstant advantage. Mr. Bright and Mr. Cobden (who had an instinct of\nfitness) would select the most suitable for the purpose in hand. In\nearly life Mr. Collet had studied for the law, and retained a passion\nfor it which proved very useful where Acts of Parliament were the\nbarricades which had to be stormed.\n\nMr. Collet was educated at Bruce Castle School, conducted by the father\nof Sir Rowland Hill. Collet's political convictions were shown by his\nbecoming secretary for the People's Charter Union, intended to restore\nthe Chartist movement (then mainly under Irish influence) to English\nhands. In 1848, he and W. J. Linton were sent as deputies to Paris, as\nbearers of English congratulations on the establishment of the Republic.\nAfterwards he fell himself under the fascination of an Oriental-minded\ndiplomat, David Urquhart, and became a romantic Privy Council loyalist.\nMr. Urquhart was Irish, eloquent, dogmatic, and infallible--at least,\nhe put down with ostentatious insolence any one who ventured to demur\nto anything he said. If the astounded questioner pleaded that he was\nignorant of the facts adduced, he was told his ignorance was a crime.\nMr. Urquhart believed that all wisdom lay in treaties and Blue Books,\nand that the first duty of every politician was to insist on beheading\nLord Palmerston, who had betrayed England to Russia. How Mr. Collet--a\nlover of freedom and inquiry--could be subjugated by doctrines which, if\nnot conceived in madness, were commanded by arts akin to madness, is the\ngreatest mystery of conversion I have known. I have seen Mr. Bright come\nout of the House of Commons, and observing Mr. Collet, would advance and\noffer his hand, when Mr. Collet would put his hands behind him, saying\n\"he could not take the hand of a man who knew Lord Palmerston was\nan impostor and ought to know he was a traitor, and still maintained\npolitical relations with him.\" Yet Mr. Collet had great and well-founded\nregard for Mr. Bright.\n\nIt was an intrepid undertaking to attempt a repeal of taxes which for\n143 years had fettered, as they were designed to do, knowledge from\nreaching the people. The history of this achievement was given in the\n_Weekly Times and Echo_, While these taxes were in force, neither\ncheap newspapers nor cheap books could exist. Since their repeal great\nnewspapers and great publishing houses have arisen. While these Acts\nwere in force every newspaper proprietor was treated as a blasphemer and\na writer of sedition, and compelled to give securities of L300 against\nthe exercise of his infamous tendencies; every paper-maker was regarded\nas a thief, and the officers of the Excise dogged every step of his\nbusiness with hampering, exacting, and humiliating suspicion. Every\nreader found with an unstamped paper in his possession was liable to\na fine of L20. The policy of our agitation was to observe scrupulous\nfairness to every Government with which we came in contact, and to heads\nof departments with whom unceasing war was waged. Their personal honour\nwas never confused with the mischievous Acts they were compelled to\nenforce. Our rule was steadfastness in fairness and courtesy. The\ncardinal principle of agitation Collet maintained was that the most\neffectual way to obtain the repeal of a bad law was to insist upon it\nbeing carried out, when its effect would soon be resented by those\nwho maintain its application to others. Charles Dickens' \"Household\nNarrative of Current Events,\" published weekly, was a violation of the\nAct which required news to be a month old when published on unstamped\npaper. Dickens was not selected from malice, for he was friendly to the\nfreedom of the press, but from policy, as an Act carried out which would\nruin a popular favourite like Dickens, would excite indignation against\nit. A clamour was raised by friends in Parliament against the supineness\nof the Inland Revenue Board, for tolerating a wealthy metropolitan\noffender, while it prosecuted and relentlessly ruined small men in the\nprovinces for doing the same thing. Bright called attention in the House\nto the Electric Telegraph Company, who were advertising every night in\nthe lobbies news, not an hour old, on unstamped paper, in violation of\nthe law.\n\nIt took thirty years of supplication to get art galleries open on\nSunday, when the application of the law to the privilege of the rich\nwould have opened them in ten years. The rich are allowed to violate\nthe law against working on Sundays, for which the poor man is fined\nand imprisoned. An intelligent committee on the Balfour-Chamberlain\nprinciple of Retaliation would soon put an end to the laws which hamper\nthe progress.\n\nProfessor Alexander Bain, remarkable for his fruitfulness in philosophic\ndevice, asked my opinion on a project of constructing a barometer of\npersonal character, which varies by time and event. Everybody is aware\nof somebody who has changed, but few notice that every one is changing\ndaily, for better or for worse. What Bain wanted was to contrive some\ninstrument by which these variations could be denoted.\n\nNo doubt men must be judged on the balance of their ascertained merits.\nBishop Butler's maxim that \"Probability is the guide of life,\" implies\nproportion, and is the rule whereby character is to be judged. For years\nI conceived a strong dislike of Sir Robert Peel, because, as Secretary\nof State, he refused the petition of Mrs. Carlile to be allowed to leave\nthe prison (where she ought never to have been sent) before the time of\nher accouchement Peel's refusal was unfeeling and brutal. Yet in after\nlife it was seen that Sir Robert possessed great qualities, and made\ngreat sacrifices in promoting the public good; and I learned to hold in\nhonour one whom I had hated for half a century.\n\nFor many years I entertained an indifferent estimate of Sir William\nHarcourt. It began when my friend Mr. E. J. H. Craufurd, M.P.,\nchallenged him to a duel, which he declined--justifiably it might be, as\nhe was a larger man than his antagonist, and offered a wider surface\nfor bullets. Declining was meritorious in my eyes, as duels had then a\npolitical prestige, and there was courage in refusing. The cause of the\nchallenge I thought well founded. In the earlier years of Sir William's\nParliamentary life I had many opportunities of observing him, and\nthought he appeared as more contented with himself than any man is\nentitled to be on this side of the Millennium. When member for Oxford as\na Liberal, he declared against payment of members of Parliament on the\nground of expense. The expense would have been one halfpenny a year to\neach elector. This seemed to me so insincere that I ceased to count\nhim as a Liberal who could be trusted. Yet all the while he had great\nqualities as a combatant of the highest order, in the battles of\nLiberalism, who sacrificed himself, lost all prospect of higher\ndistinction, and incurred the undying rage of the rich (who have\nCanning's \"ignorant impatience\" of taxation) by instituting death\nduties, services which entitled him to honour and regard.\n\nI heard Lord Salisbury's acrid, sneering, insulting, contemptuous\nspeeches in the House of Commons against working men seeking the\nfranchise. What gave this man the right to speak with bitterness and\nscorn of the people whose industry kept him in the opulence he so little\ndeserved? Some friends of mine, who had personal intercourse with him,\ndescribed him as a fair-spoken gentleman. All the while, and to the end\nof his days, he had the cantankerous tongue in diplomacy which brought\ncontempt and distrust upon Englishmen abroad, while his jests at Irish\nmembers of Parliament, whom his Government had subjected to humiliation\nin prison, denoted, thought many, the innate savagery of his order,\nwhen secure from public retribution--which people should remember who\ncontinue its impunity. Difference of opinion is to be respected, but it\nis difficult even for philosophy to condone scorn. If recklessness in\nlanguage be the mark of inferiority in workmen, what is it in those of\nhigh position who compromise a nation by their ungoverned tongues?\n\nAmong things bygone are certain ideas of popular influence which have\nhad their day--some too long a day, judging from their effects. The\ngeneral misconceptions in them still linger in some minds, and it may be\nuseful to recall a prominent one.\n\nThe madness of thoroughness are two words I have never seen brought\ntogether, yet they are allied oftener than most persons suppose.\nThoroughness, in things which concern others, has limits. Justness is\ngreater than thoroughness. There is great fascination in being thorough.\nA man should be thorough as far as he can. This implies that he must\nhave regard to the rights and reasonable convenience of others, which is\nthe natural limit of all the virtues. Sometimes a politician will adopt\nthe word \"thorough\" as his motto, forgetful that it was the motto of\nStrafford, who was a despot on principle, and who perished through the\nterror which his success inspired. Cromwell was thorough in merciless\nmassacres, which have made his name hateful in Irish memory for three\ncenturies, perpetuating the distrust of English rule. Vigour is a\nnotable attribute, but unless it stops short of rigour, it jeopardises\nitself.\n\nThorough means the entire carrying out of a principle to its end. This\ncan rarely be done in human affairs. When a person finds he cannot do\nall he would, he commonly does nothing, whereas his duty is to do what\nhe can--to continue to assert and maintain the principle he thinks\nright, and persist in its application to the extent of his power. To\nsuspend endeavour at the point where persistence would imperil the just\nright of others, is the true compromise in which there is no shame,\nas Mr. John Morley, in his wise book on \"Compromise,\" has shown.\nTemperance--a word of infinite wholesomeness in every department of\nlife, because it means use and restraint--has been retarded and\nrendered repellent to thousands by the \"thorough\" partisans who have\nput prohibition into it Can absolute prohibition be enforced universally\nwhere conviction is opposed, without omnipresent tyranny, which makes\nit hateful instead of welcome? Even truth itself, the golden element\nof trust and progress, has to be limited by relevance, timeliness and\nutility. He who would speak everything he knows or believes to be true,\nto all persons, at all times, in every place, would soon become the most\nintolerable person in every society, and make lying itself a relief. A\nman should stand by the truth and act upon it, wherever he can, and he\nshould be known by his fidelity to it But that is a very different thing\nfrom obtruding it in unseemly ways, in season and out of season, which\nhas ruined many a noble cause. The law limits its exaction of truth to\nevidence necessary for justice. There are cases, such as occurred during\nthe Civil War of emancipation in America, where slave-hunters would\ndemand of the man, who had seen a fugitive slave, pass by, \"which way he\nhad run.\" The humane bystander questioned, would point in the opposite\ndirection. Had he pointed truly, it would have cost the slave his life.\nThis was lying for humanity, and it would be lying to call it by any\nother name, for it _was_ lying. Thoroughness would have murdered the\nfugitive.\n\nThe thoroughness of the Puritans brought upon the English nation the\ncalamities of the Restoration. Richelieu, in France, was thorough in his\npolicy of centralisation. He was a butcher on principle, and his name\nbecame a symbol of murder. He circumvented everything, and pursued every\none with implacable ferocity, who was likely to withstand him. He put\nto death persons high and low, he destroyed municipalism in France, and\nchanged the character of political society for the worse. The French\nRevolutionists did but tread in the footsteps of the political priest.\nThey were all thorough, and as a consequence they died by each other's\nhands, and ruined liberty in France and in Europe. The gospel of\nthoroughness was preached by Carlyle and demoralised Continental\nLiberals. In the revolution of 1848 they spared lives all round. They\neven abolished the punishment of death.\n\nBut when Louis Napoleon applied the doctrine of \"thorough\" to the\ngreatest citizens of Paris, and shot, imprisoned, or exiled statesmen,\nphilosophers and poets, Madame Pulzsky said to me, the \"Republicans\nthought their leniency a mistake, and if they had power again they\nwould cut everybody's throat who stood in the way of liberty.\" As usual,\nthoroughness had begotten ferocity.\n\nCarlyle's eminent disciples of thoroughness justified the massacre and\ntorture of the blacks in Jamaica, for which Tennyson, Kingsley, and\nothers defended Governor Eyre. Lord Cardwell, in the House of Commons,\nadmitted in my hearing that there had been \"unnecessary executions.\"\n\"Unnecessary executions\" are murders--but in thoroughness unnecessary\nexecutions are not counted. Wherever we have heard of pitilessness\nin military policy, or in speeches in our Parliament, we see\nexemplifications of the gospel of Thoroughness, which is madness if not\nlimited by justice and forbearance.\n\nConventional thoroughness dwells in extremes. If political economy was\nthoroughly carried out, there might be great wealth, but no happiness.\nEnjoyment is waste, since it involves expenditure. The Inquisition,\nwhich made religion a name of terror, was but thoroughness in piety.\nPope, himself a Catholic, warned us that--\n\n     \"For virtue's self may too much zeal be had.\n     The worst of madness is a saint run mad.\"\n\nFanatics forget (they would not be fanatics if they remembered) that in\npublic affairs, true thoroughness is limited by the rights of others.\nThere is no permanent progress without this consideration. The best of\neggs will harden if boiled too much. The mariner who takes no account of\nthe rocks, wrecks his ship--which it is not profitable to forget.\n\nIt is natural that those who crave practical knowledge of the unseen\nworld should look about the universe for some chink, through which they\ncan see what goes on there, and believe they have met with truants\nwho have made disclosures to them. I have no commerce of that kind to\nrelate. It is hard to think that when Jupiter is silent--when the Head\nof the Gods speaketh not--that He allows angels with traitor tongues to\nbetray to men the mysteries of the world He has Himself concealed.\nCan it be that He permits wayward ghosts to creep over the boundary of\nanother world and babble His secrets at will? This would imply\ngreat lack of discipline at the outposts of paradise. There is great\nfascination in clandestine communication with the kingdom of the dead.\nI own that noises of the night, not heard in the day, seem supernatural.\nThe wind sounds like the rush of the disembodied--hinges creak with\nhuman emotion--winds moan against window panes like persons in pain.\nCreatures of the air and earth flit or leap in pursuit of prey, like the\nshadows of ghosts or the furtive steps of murdered souls. Are they more\nthan\n\n     \"The sounds sent down at night\n     By birds of passage in their flight\"?\n\nFor believing less where others believe more, for expressing decision of\nopinion which the reader may resent, I do but follow in the footsteps of\nConfucius, who, as stated by Allen Upward, \"declared that a principle\nof belief or even a rule of morality binding on himself need not bind a\ndisciple whose own conscience did not enjoin it on him.\" Confucius, says\nhis expositor, thus \"reached a height to which mankind have hardly yet\nlifted their eyes, and announced a freedom compared with which ours is\nan empty name.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XLVII. LOOKING BACKWARDS\n\nIt seems to me that I cannot more appropriately conclude these chapters\nof bygone events within my own experience, than by a summary of those\nof the past condition of industry which suggest a tone of manly\ncheerfulness and confidence in the future, not yet common among the\npeople. Changes of condition are not estimated as they pass, and when\nthey have passed, many never look back to calculate their magnificence\nor insignificance. This chapter is an attempt to show the change of the\nenvironment of a great class of a character to decrease apprehension\nand augment hope. The question answered herein is: \"Did things go better\nbefore our time?\"\n\nWhen this question is put to me I answer \"No.\" Things did not go better\nbefore my time--nor that of the working class who were contemporaries\nof my earlier years. My answer is given from the working class point of\nview, founded on a personal experience extending as far back as 1824,\nwhen I first became familiar with workshops. Many are still under the\nimpression that things are as bad as they well can be, whereas they\nhave been much worse than they are now. When I first took an interest in\npublic affairs, agitators among the people were as despondent as frogs\nwho were supposed to croak because they were neglected.\n\nThey spoke in weeping tones. There were tears even in the songs of\nEbenezer Elliot, the Corn-Law Rhymer,* and not without cause, for the\nangels would have been pessimists, had they been in the condition of\nthe people in those days. I myself worked among men who had Unitarian\nmasters--who were above the average of employers--even they were as\nsheep-dogs who kept the wolf away, but bit the sheep if they turned\naside. But Trades Unions have changed this now, and sometimes bite their\nmasters (employers they are called now), which is not more commendable.\nStill, multitudes of working people, who ought to be in the front ranks\nas claimants for redress still needed, yet hang back with handkerchief\nto their eyes, oppressed with a feeling of hopelessness, because they\nare unaware of what has been won for them, of what has been conceded to\nthem, and what the trend of progress is bringing nearer to them.\n\n     * Thomas Cooper--himself a Chartist poet--published (1841)\n     in Elliot's days a hymn by William Jones--a Leicester poet--\n     of which the first verse began thus:\n\n          \"Come my fellow-slaves of Britain.\n          Rest, awhile, the weary limb;\n          Pour your plaints, ye bosom-smitten,\n          In a sad and solemn hymn.\"\n\nOf course if there has been no betterment in the condition of the\npeople, despair is excusable--but if there has, despair is as unseemly\nas unnecessary. Every age has its needs and its improvements to make,\nbut a knowledge of what has been accomplished should take despair out of\nworkmen's minds. To this end I write of changes which have taken place\nin my time.\n\nI was born in tinder-box days. I remember having to strike a light in my\ngrandfather's garden for his early pipe, when we arrived there at five\no'clock in the morning. At times my fingers bled as I missed the steel\nwith the jagged flint. Then the timber proved damp where the futile\nspark fell, and when ignition came a brimstone match filled the air with\nsatanic fumes. He would have been thought as much a visionary as Joanna\nSouthcott, who said the time would come when small, quick-lighting\nlucifers would be as plentiful and as cheap as blades of grass. How\ntardy was change in olden time! Flint and steel had been in use four\nhundred years. Philip the Good put it into the collar of the Golden\nFleece (1429). It was not till 1833 that phosphorus matches were\nintroduced. The safety match of the present day did not appear until\n1845. The consumption of matches is now about eight per day for each\nperson. To produce eight lights, by a tinder-box, would take a quarter\nof an hour With the lucifer match eight lights can be had in two\nminutes, occupying only twelve hours a year, while the tinder box\nprocess consumes ninety hours. Thus the lucifer saves nearly eighty\nhours annually, which, to the workman, would mean an addition of nearly\neight working days to the year.\n\nIn tinder-box days the nimble night burglar heard the flint and steel\ngoing, and had time to pack up his booty and reach the next parish,\nbefore the owner descended the stairs with his flickering candle. Does\nany one now fully appreciate the morality of light? Extinguish the gas\nin the streets of London and a thousand extra policemen would do less to\nprevent outrage and robbery than the ever-burning, order-keeping street\nlight. Light is a police force--neither ghosts nor burglars like it.\nThieves flee before it as errors flee the mind when the light of truth\nbursts on the understanding of the ignorant.\n\nSeventy years ago the evenings were wasted in a million houses of the\npoor. After sundown the household lived in gloom. Children who could\nread, read, as I did, by the flickering light of the fire, which often\nlimited for life the power of seeing. Now the pauper reads by a better\nlight than the squire did in days when squires were county gods. Now old\nmen see years after the period when their forefathers were blind.\n\nThen a social tyranny prevailed, unpleasant to the rich and costly to\nthe poor, which regarded the beard as an outrage. I remember when only\nfour men in Birmingham had courage to wear beards. They were followers\nof Joanna Southcott. They did it in imitation of the apostles, and were\njeered at in the streets by ignorant Christians. George Frederick Muntz,\none of the two first members elected in Birmingham, was the first member\nwho ventured to wear a beard in the House of Commons; and he would have\nbeen insulted had not he been a powerful man and carried a heavy Malacca\ncane, which he was known to apply to any one who offered him a personal\naffront. Only military officers were allowed to wear a moustache; among\nthem--no one, not even Wellington, was hero enough to wear a beard. The\nRev. Edmund R. Larken, of Burton Rectory, near Lincoln, was the first\nclergyman (that was as late as 1852) who appeared in the pulpit with a\nbeard, but he shaved the upper lip as an apology for the audacity of his\nchin; George Dawson was the first Nonconformist preacher who delivered\na sermon in a full-blown moustache and beard, which was taken in both\ncases as an unmistakable sign of latitudinarianism in doctrine. In the\nbank clerk or the workman it was worse. It was flat insubordination not\nto shave. The penalty was prompt dismissal. As though there were not\nfetters about hard to bear, people made fetters for themselves. Such was\nthe daintiness of ignorance that a man could not eat, dress, nor even\nthink as he pleased. He was even compelled to shave by public opinion.\n\nWhen Mr. Joseph Cowen was first a candidate for Parliament, he wore, as\nwas his custom, a felt hat (then called a \"wide-awake\"). He was believed\nto be an Italian conspirator, and suspected of holding opinions lacking\nin orthodox requirements. Yet all his reputed heresies of acts and\ntenets put together did not cost him so many votes as the form and\ntexture of his hat. He was elected--but his headgear would have ruined\nutterly a less brilliant candidate than he This social intolerance now\nshows its silly and shameless head no more. A wise Tolerance is the\nAngel, which stands at the portal of Progress, and opens the door of the\nTemple.\n\nDr. Church, of Birmingham, was the first person who, in my youth,\ncontrived a bicycle, and rode upon it in the town, which excited\nmore consternation than a Southcottean with his beard. He was an able\nphysician, but his harmless innovation cost him his practice. Patients\nrefused to be cured by a doctor who rode a horse which had no head, and\nate no oats. Now a parson may ride to church on a bicycle and people\nthink none the worse of his sermon; and, scandal of scandals, women\nare permitted to cycle, although it involves a new convenience of dress\nformerly sharply resented.\n\nIn these days of public wash-houses, public laundries, and water supply,\nfew know the discomfort of a washing day in a workman's home, or of the\nfeuds of a party pump. One pump in a yard had to serve several families.\nQuarrels arose as to who should first have the use of it. Sir Edwin\nChadwick told me that more dissensions arose over party pumps in a day\nthan a dozen preachers could reconcile in a week. Now the poorest house\nhas a water tap, which might be called moral, seeing the ill-feeling it\nprevents. So long as washing had to be done at home, it took place in\nthe kitchen, which was also the dining-room of a poor family. When the\nhusband came home to his meals, damp clothes were hanging on lines over\nhis head, and dripping on to his plate. The children were in the way,\nand sometimes the wrong child had its ears boxed because, in the steam,\nthe mother could not see which was which. This would give rise to\nfurther expressions which kept the Recording Angel, of whom Sterne tells\nus, very busy, whom the public wash-houses set free for other, though\nscarcely less repugnant duty.\n\nIn that day sleeping rooms led to deplorable additions to the register\nof \"idle words.\" The introduction of iron bedsteads began a new era of\nmidnight morality. As a wandering speaker I dreaded the wooden bedstead\nof cottage, lodging-house or inn. Fleas I did not much care for, and\nhad no ill-will towards them. They were too little to be responsible for\nwhat they did; while the malodorous bug is big enough to know better.\nOnce in Windsor I selected an inn with a white portico, having an air\nof pastoral cleanliness. The four-poster in my room, with its white\ncurtains, was a further assurance of repose. The Boers were not more\nskilful in attack and retreat than the enemies I found in the field.\nLighted candles did not drive them from the kopje pillow where they\nfought. In Sheffield, in 1840, I asked the landlady for an uninhabited\nroom. A cleaner looking, white-washed chamber never greeted my eyes.\nBut I soon found that a whole battalion of red-coated cannibals were\nstationed there, on active service. Wooden bedsteads in the houses of\nthe poor were the fortresses of the enemy, which then possessed the\nland. Iron bedsteads have ended this, and given to the workman two hours\nmore sleep at night than was possible before that merciful invention. A\ngain of two hours for seven nights amounted to a day's holiday a\nweek. Besides, these nocturnal irritations were a fruitful source of\ntenemental sin, from which iron bedsteads have saved residents and\nwayfarers.\n\nOf all the benefits that have come to the working class in my time,\nthose of travel are among the greatest. Transit by steam has changed\nthe character of man, and the facilities of the world. Nothing brings\ntoleration into the mind like seeing new lands, new people, new usages.\nThey who travel soon discover that other people have genius, manners,\nand taste. The traveller loses on his way prejudices of which none could\ndivest him at home, and he brings back in his luggage new ideas never\ncontained in it before. Think what the sea-terror of the emigrant\nused to be, as he thought of the dreadful voyage over the tempestuous\nbillows. The first emigrants to America were six months in the\n_Mayflower_. Now a workman can go from Manchester into the heart of\nAmerica or Canada in a fortnight. The deadly depression which weighed\non the heart of home-sick emigrants occurs no more, since he can return\nalmost at will. A mechanic can now travel farther than a king could\na century ago. When I first went to Brighton, third-class passengers\ntravelled in an open cattle truck, exposed to wind and rain. For years\nthe London and North-Western Railway shunted the third-class passengers\nat Blisworth for two hours, while the gentlemen's trains went by. Now\nworkmen travel in better carriages than gentlemen did half a century\nago. In Newcastle-on-Tyne I have entered a third-class carriage at a\nquarter to five in the morning. It was like Noah's Ark. The windows were\nopenings which in storm were closed by wooden shutters to keep out wind\nand rain, when all was darkness. It did not arrive in London till nine\no'clock in the evening, being sixteen hours on the journey. Now the\nworkman can leave New-castle at ten o'clock in the morning, and be in\nLondon in the afternoon.\n\nDoes any one think what advantage has come to the poor by the extension\nof dentistry? Teeth are life-givers. They increase comeliness, comfort,\nhealth and length of years--advantages now shared more or less by the\npoorer classes--once confined to the wealthy alone. Formerly the sight\nof dental instruments struck terror in the heart of the patient Now,\nfear arises when few instruments are seen, as the more numerous they\nare and the more skilfully they are made, the assurance of less pain\nis given. The simple instruments which formerly alarmed give confidence\nnow, which means that the patient is wiser than of yore.\n\nWithin the days of this generation what shrieks were heard in\nthe hospital, which have been silenced for ever by a discovery of\npain-arresting chloroform! No prayer could still the agony of the knife.\nThe wise surgeon is greater than the priest. If any one would know\nwhat pain was in our time, let him read Dr. John Brown's \"Rab and his\nFriends,\" which sent a pang of dangerous horror into the heart of every\nwoman who read it. Now the meanest hospital gives the poorest patient\nwho enters it a better chance of life than the wealthy could once\ncommand.\n\nIt was said formerly:--\n\n     \"The world is a market full of streets,\n     And Death is a merchant whom every one meets,\n     If life were a thing which money could buy--\n     The poor could not live, and the rich would not die.\"\n\nNow the poor man can deal with death, and buy life on very reasonable\nterms, if he has commonsense enough to observe half the precepts given\nhim by generous physicians on temperance and prudence.\n\nNot long since no man was tolerated who sought to cure an ailment, or\nprolong human life in any new way. Even persons so eminent as Harriet\nMartineau, Dr. Elliotson, and Sir Bulwer Lytton were subjected to public\nridicule and resentment because they suffered themselves to be restored\nto health by mesmerism or hydropathy. But in these libertine and\nhappier days any one who pleases may follow Mesmer, Pressnitz, or even\nHahnemann, and attain health by any means open to him, and is no longer\nexpected to die according to the direction of antediluvian doctors.\n\nUntil late years the poor man's stomach was regarded as the waste-paper\nbasket of the State, into which anything might be thrown that did not\nagree with well-to-do digestion. Now, the Indian proverb is taken to be\nworth heeding--that \"Disease enters by the mouth,\" and the health of\nthe people is counted as part of the wealth of the nation. Pestilence\nis subjected to conditions. Diseases are checked at will, which formerly\nhad an inscrutable power of defiance. The sanitation of towns is now a\npublic care. True, officers of health have mostly only official noses,\nbut they can be made sensible of nuisances by intelligent occupiers.\nEconomists, less regarded than they ought to be, have proved that it\nis cheaper to prevent pestilence than bury the dead. Besides, disease,\nwhich has no manners, is apt to attack respectable people.\n\nWhat are workshops now to what they once were? Any hole or stifling\nroom was thought good enough for a man to work in. They, indeed, abound\nstill, but are now regarded as discreditable. Many mills and factories\nare palaces now compared with what they were. Considering how many\nmillions of men and women are compelled to pass half their lives in some\nden of industry or other, it is of no mean importance that improvement\nhas set in in workshops.\n\nCo-operative factories have arisen, light, spacious and clean, supplied\nwith cool air in summer and warm air in winter. In my youth men were\npaid late on Saturday night; poor nailers trudged miles into Birmingham,\nwith their week's work in bags on their backs, who were to be seen\nhanging about merchants' doors up to ten and eleven o'clock to get\npayment for their goods. The markets were closing or closed when the\npoor workers reached them. It was midnight, or Sunday morning, before\nthey arrived at home. Twelve or more hours a day was the ordinary\nworking period. Wages, piece-work and day-work, were cut down at will.\nI did not know then that these were \"the good old times\" of which, in\nafter years, I should hear so much.\n\nThe great toil of other days in many trades is but exercise now, as\nexhaustion is limited by mechanical contrivances. A pressman in my\nemploy has worked at a hand-press twenty-four hours continuously, before\npublishing day. Now a gas engine does all the labour. Machinery is the\ndeliverer which never tires and never grows pale.\n\nThe humiliation of the farm labourer is over. He used to sing:\n\n     \"Mr Smith is a very good man,\n     He lets us ride in his harvest van,\n     He gives us food and he gives us ale,\n     We pray his heart may never fail.\"\n\nThere is nothing to be said against Mr. Smith, who was evidently a\nkindly farmer of his time. Yet to what incredible humiliation his\n\"pastors and masters\" had brought poor Hodge, who could sing these\nlines, as though he had reached the Diamond Jubilee of his life when\nhe rode in somebody else's cart, and had cheese and beer. Now the farm\nworkers of a co-operative way of thinking have learned how to ride in\ntheir own vans, to possess the crop with which they are loaded, and to\nprovide themselves with a harvest supper.\n\nIn my time the mechanic had no personal credit for his work, whatever\nmight be his skill. Now in industrial exhibitions the name of the\nartificer is attached to his work, and he is part of the character\nof the firm which employs him. He has, also, now--if co-operation\nprevails--a prospect of participating in the profits of his own\nindustry. Half a century ago employers were proud of showing their\nmachinery to a visitor--never their men. Now they show their work-people\nas well--whose condition and contentment is the first pride of great\nfirms.\n\nAbove all knowledge is a supreme improvement, which has come to workmen.\nThey never asked for it, the ignorant never do ask for knowledge, and do\nnot like those who propose it to them. Brougham first turned aside their\nrepugnance by telling them what Bacon knew, that \"knowledge is power.\"\nNow they realise the other half of the great saying, Dr. Creighton, the\nlate Bishop of London, supplied, that \"ignorance is impotence.\" They\ncan see that the instructed son of the gentleman has power, brightness,\nconfidence, and alertness; while the poor man's child, untrained,\nincapable, dull in comparison, often abject, is unconscious of his own\npowers which lie latent within him. If an educated and an ignorant child\nwere sold by weight, the intelligent child would fetch more per pound\navoirdupois than the ignorant one. Now education can be largely had for\nworking men's children for nothing. Even scholarships and degrees are\nopen to the clever sort. Moreover, how smooth science has made the early\ndays of instruction, formerly made jagged with the rod.\n\nSir Edwin Chadwick showed that the child mind could not profitably be\nkept learning more than an hour at a time, and recreation must intervene\nbefore a second hour can be usefully spent. What a mercy and advantage\nto thousands of poor children this has been! Even the dreary schoolroom\nof the last generation is disappearing. A schoolroom should be spacious\nand bright, and board schools are beginning to be made so now. I have\nseen a board school in a dismal court in Whitechapel which looked like\nan alley of hell. All thoughts for pleasant impressions in the child\nmind, which make learning alluring, were formerly uncared for. Happier\nnow is the lot of poor children than any former generation knew.\n\nWithin my time no knowledge of public affairs was possible to the\npeople, save in a second-hand way from sixpenny newspapers a month old.\nNow a workman can read in the morning telegrams from all parts of the\nworld in a halfpenny paper, hours before his employer is out of bed. If\na pestilence broke out in the next street to the man's dwelling, the law\ncompelled him to wait a month for the penny paper, the only one he\ncould afford to buy, before he became aware of his danger, and it often\nhappened that some of his family never lived to read of their risk.\n\nThe sons of working people are now welcomed in the army, and their\nrecord there has commanded the admiration of the onlooking world. But\nthey are not flogged as they once were, at the will of any arrogant\ndandy who had bought his mastership over them. Intelligence has awakened\nmanliness and self-respect in common men, and the recruiting-sergeant\nhas to go about without the lash under his coat. The working man further\nknows now that there is a better future for his sons in the public\nservice, in army or navy, than ever existed before our time. Even the\nemigrant ship has regulations for the comfort of steerage passengers,\nunknown until recent years. People always professed great regard for\n\"Poor Jack,\" but until Mr. Plimsoll arose, they left him to drown.\n\nUntil a few years ago millions of home-born Englishmen were kept without\nvotes, like the Uitlanders of South Africa, and no one sent an army\ninto the country to put down the \"corrupt oligarchy,\" as Mr. Chamberlain\ncalled those who withheld redress. But it has come, though in a limping,\nlimited way. Carlylean depredators of Parliament decried the value of\nworkmen possessing \"a hundred thousandth part in the national palavers.\"\nBut we no longer hear workmen at election times referred to as the\n\"swinish multitude\" who can now send representatives of their own\norder into the House of Commons. If the claims of labour are not much\nconsidered, they are no longer contemned. It is always easier for the\nrider than the horse. The people are always being ridden, but it is much\neasier for the horse now than it ever was before.\n\nSir Michael Foster, in a recent Presidential Address to the British\nAssociation, said that, \"the appliances of science have, as it were,\ncovered with a soft cushion the rough places of life, and that not for\nthe rich only but also for the poor.\" It is not, however, every kind of\nprogress, everywhere, in every department of human knowledge, in which\nthe reader is here concerned, but merely with such things as Esdras\nsays, which have \"passed by us in daily life,\" and which every ordinary\nEnglishman has observed or knows.\n\nIf the question be asked whether the condition of the working class\nhas improved in proportion to that of the middle and upper class of\nour time, the answer must be it has not. But that is not the question\nconsidered here. The question is, \"Are the working class to-day better\noff than their fathers were?\" The answer already given is Yes. Let the\nreader think what, in a general way, the new advantages are. The press\nis free, and articulate with a million voices--formerly dumb. Now a poor\nman can buy a better library for a few shillings than Solomon with\nall his gold and glory could in his day; or than the middle class man\npossessed fifty years ago. Toleration--not only of ideas but of action,\nis enlarged, and that means much--social freedom is greater, and that\nmeans more. The days of children are happier, schoolrooms are more\ncheerful, and one day they will be educated so as to fit them for\nself-dependence and the duties of daily life. Another change is that\nthe pride in ignorance, which makes for impotence, is decreasing, is\nno longer much thought of among those whose ignorance was their only\nattainment.\n\nNot less have the material conditions of life improved. Food is\npurer--health is surer--life itself is safer and lasts longer. Comfort\nhas crept into a million houses where it never found its way before.\nSecurity can be better depended upon. The emigrant terror has gone.\nInstead of sailing out on hearsay to an unknown land and finding himself\nin the wrong one, or in the wrong part of the right country, as has\nhappened to thousands, the emigrant can now obtain official information,\nwhich may guide him rightly. Towns are brighter, there are more public\nbuildings which do the human eye good to look upon. Means of recreation\nare continually being multiplied. Opportunity of change from town to\ncountry, or coast, fall now to the poorest Not in cattle trucks any\nmore. Life is better worth living. Pain none could escape is evadable\nnow. Parks are multiplied and given as possessions to the people.\nPaintings and sculpture are now to be seen on the Sunday by workmen,\nwhich their forefathers never saw, being barred from them on the only\nday when they could see them.\n\nBy a device within the memory of most, house owning has become possible\nto those whose fathers never thought it possible. Temperance, once a\nmelancholy word, is now a popular resource of health and economy. The\nfortune of industry is higher in many ways. Into how many firesides does\nit bring gladness to know that in barrack, or camp, or ship, the son is\nbetter treated than heretofore.\n\nCan any of the middle-aged doubt that some things are better now\nthan before their time? Now two hundred workshops exist on the\nlabour co-partnership principle. Forty years ago those commenced,\nfailed--failed through lack of intelligence on the part of workers. The\nquality of workmen to be found everywhere in our day did not exist then.\nSixteen years ago there were found more than a dozen workshops owned\nand conducted by working men. There are more than a hundred now; and\nhundreds in which the workers receive an addition to their wages,\nundreamt of in the last generation. In this, and in other respects,\nthings go better than they did. Though there is still need of\nenlargement, the means of self-defence are not altogether wanting.\nCo-operation has arisen--a new force for the self-extrication of the\nlowest. Without charity, or patronage, or asking anything from the\nState, it puts into each man's hand the \"means to cancel his captivity.\"\n\nThe rich man may vote twenty times where the poor man can vote only\nonce. Still, the one voter counts for something where the unfranchised\ncounted for nothing.\n\nPolitical as well as civil freedom has come in a measure to those who\ndwell in cottages and lodgings. For one minute every seven years the\nworkman is free. He can choose his political masters at the poll, and\nneither his neighbour, his employer, nor his priest, has the knowledge\nto harm him on that account. One minute of liberty in seven years is not\nmuch, but there is no free country in the world where that minute is so\nwell secured as in England. If any one would measure the present by the\npast, let him recall the lines:--\n\n     \"Allah! Allah!\" cried the stranger,\n     \"Wondrous sights the traveller sees,\n     But the latest is the greatest,\n     Where the drones control the bees.\"\n\nThey do it still, but not to the extent they did. The control of wisdom,\nwhen the drones have it, is all very well, but it is the other sort of\ncontrol which is now happily to some extent controllable by the bees.\nThe manners of the rich are better. Their sympathy with the people has\nincreased. Their power of doing ill is no longer absolute. Employers\nthink more of the condition of those who labour for them. The better\nsort still throw crumbs to Lazarus. But now Dives is expected to explain\nwhy it is that Lazarus cannot get crumbs himself.\n\nIn ways still untold the labour class is gradually attaining to social\nequality with the idle class and to that independence hitherto the\nprivilege of those who do nothing. The workman's power of self-defence\ngrows--his influence extends--his rights enlarge. Injury suffered in\nindustry is beginning to be compensated; even old-age pensions are in\nthe air, though not as yet anywhere else. Notwithstanding, \"John Brown's\nsoul goes marching on.\" But it must be owned its shoes are a little down\nat the heels. Nevertheless, though there is yet much to be done--more\nliberty to win, more improvements to attain, and more than all, if it be\npossible, permanences of prosperity to secure--I agree with Sydney\nSmith--\n\n     \"For olden times let others prate,\n     I deem it lucky I was born so late.\"\n\nThere is a foolish praise of the past and a foolish depreciation of the\npresent The past had its evils, the present has fewer. The past had its\npromise, the present great realisations. It is not assumed in what has\nbeen said that all the advantages recounted were originated and acquired\nby working men alone. Many came by the concessions of those who had the\npower of withholding them. More concessions will not lack acknowledgment\n\"Just gifts\" to men who have honour in their hearts, \"bind the\nrecipients to the giver for ever.\"\n\nThe Chinese put the feet of children in a boot and the foot never grows\nlarger. There are boots of the mind as well as of the feet, that are\nworn by the young of all nations, which have no expansion in them, and\nwhich cramp the understanding of those grown up. This prevents many from\ncomprehending the changes by which they benefit or realising the facts\nof their daily life. Considering what the men of labour have done\nfor themselves and what has been won for them by their advocates, and\nconceded to them from time to time by others, despair and the counsels\nof outrage which spring from it, are unseemly, unnecessary, and\nungrateful. This is the moral of this story.\n\nA doleful publicist should be superannuated. He is already obsolete.\nWhoever despairs of a cause in whose success he once exulted, should\nfall out of the ranks, where some ambulance waits to carry away the sick\nor dispirited. He has no business to utter his discouraging wail in the\nears of the constant and confident, marching to the front, where the\nbattle of progress is being fought.\n\nSince so much has been accomplished in half a century, when there were\nfew advantages to begin with--what may not be gained in the next fifty\nyears with the larger means now at command and the confidence great\nsuccesses of the past should inspire! If working people adhere to the\npolicy of advancing their own honest interests without destroying others\nas rightfully engaged in seeking theirs, the workers may make their own\nfuture what they will. They may then acquire power sufficient, as the\n_Times_ once said: \"To turn a reform mill which would grind down an\nabuse a day.\"\n\n\n\nNOTE.\n\nThe last chapter is reprinted from the _Fortnightly Review_ by courtesy\nof the Editor, and a similar acknowledgment is due to the Editor of\nthe _Weekly Times and Echo_, in whose pages several of the preceding\nchapters appeared.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Bygones Worth Remembering, Vol. 2 (of 2)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":65038}