Volume I Part 5 (1/2)

Tennyson, with all his genius, never quite emerged from the theologic caves of the conventicle. The sea of pure reason he took to be ”the sea of Death.” Doubt was a ”sunless gulf.” He did not know that ”Doubt” is a translucent valley, where the light of Truth first reveals the deformities of error--hidden by theological mists. The line containing the words ”wilder comrades” was understood to include me. Out of the ”One Hundred Contributors,” whose names were published in the _Athenaeum_ (February 10, 1877), there were only-six:--Professor Huxley, Professor Tyndall, Professor Clifford, George Henry Lewes, myself, and possibly Frederic Harrison, to whom the phrase could apply. If the remaining ninety-four had any insurgency of opinion in them, it was not then apparent to the public, who are p.r.o.ne to prefer a vacuum to an insurgent idea. New ideas of moment have always been on hand in the _Nineteenth_ if not of the ”wilder” kind.

After issuing fifty volumes of the _Nineteenth Century Review_, the editor published a list of all his contributors, with the t.i.tles of the articles written by them, introduced by these brief but memorable words:--

”More than a quarter of a century's experience has sufficiently tested the practical efficacy of the principle upon which the _Nineteenth Century_ was founded, of free public discussion by writers invariably signing their own names.

”The success which has attended and continues to attend the faithful adherence to this principle, proves that it is not only right but acceptable, and warrants the hope that it may extend its influence over periodical literature, until unsigned contributions become quite exceptional.

”No man can make an anonymous speech with his tongue, and no brave man should desire to make one with his pen, but, having the courage of his opinions, should be ready to face personally all the consequences of all his utterances. Anonymous letters are everywhere justly discredited in private life, and the tone of public life would be raised in proportion to the disappearance of their equivalent--anonymous articles--from public controversy.”

Than the foregoing, I know of no more admirable argument against anonymity in literature. There is nothing more unfair in controversy than permitting writers, wearing a mask, to attack or make replies to those who give their names--being thereby enabled to be accusative or imputative without responsibility. There is, of course another side to this question. Persons of superior and relevant information, unwilling to appear personally, are thereby excluded from a hearing--which is so far a public loss.

But this evil is small compared with the vividness and care which would be exercised if every writer felt that his reputation went with the work which bore his name. Besides, how much slovenly thinking, which is slovenly expressed--vexing the public ear and depraving the taste and understanding of the reader--would never appear if the writer had to append his signature to his production? Of course, there is good writing done anonymously, but power and originality, if present, are never rewarded by fame, and no one knows who to thank for the light and pleasure nameless writers have given. The example of the _Nineteenth Century and After_ is a public advantage.

CHAPTER V. GEORGE ELIOT AND GEORGE HENRY LEWES

[Ill.u.s.tration: Lewes]

More than acquaintances.h.i.+p, I had affectionate regard for George Henry Lewes and George Eliot. Lewes included me in the public list of writers and contributors to the _Leader_--the first recognition of the kind I received, and being accorded when I had only an outcast name, both in law and literature, I have never ceased to prize it.

George Eliot's friends.h.i.+p, on other grounds I have had reason to value, and when I found a vacant place at the head of their graves which lie side by side, I bought it, that my ashes should repose there, should I die in England.

On occasions which arose, I had vindicated both, as I knew well the personal circ.u.mstances of their lives. When in America I found statements made concerning them which no editor of honour should have published without knowledge of the facts upon which they purported to be founded, nor should he have given publicity to dishonouring statements without the signature of a known and responsible person. On the first opportunity I spoke with Lewes's eldest son, and asked authority to contradict them. He thought the calumnies beneath contempt, that they sprang up in theological soil and that they would wither of themselves, if not fertilised by disturbance. I know of no instance of purity and generosity greater than that displayed by George Eliot in her relation with Mr. Lewes. Edgar Allan Poe was subject to graver defamation, widely believed for years, which was afterwards shown to be entirely devoid of truth. George Eliot's personal reputation will hereafter be seen to be just and luminous.

For myself, I never could see what conventional opinion had to do with a personal union founded in affection, by which n.o.body was wronged, n.o.body distressed, and in which protection was accorded and generous provision made for the present and future interest of every one concerned.

Conventional opinion, not even in its ethical aspects, could establish higher relations than existed in their case. There are thousands of marriages tolerated conventionally and ecclesiastically approved, in every way less estimable and less honourable than the distinguished union, upon which society without justification affected to frown.

Interest in social and political liberty was an abiding feature in George Eliot's mind. When Garibaldi was at the Crystal Palace, she asked me to sit by her and elucidate incidents which arose.

On the publication of my first volume of the History of Co-operation, I received the following letter from Mr. Lewes:--

”The Elms, Rickmansworth,

”Aug. 15, 1875.

”My dear Holyoake,--Mrs. Lewes wishes me to thank you for sending her your book, which she is reading aloud to me every evening, much to our pleasure and profit. The light firm touch and quiet epigram would make the dullest subject readable; and this subject is _not_ dull.

We only regret that you did not enter more fully into working details. Perhaps they will come in the next volume.

”Ever yours truly,

”G. H. Lewes.”

The second volume of the work mentioned supplied to her the details she wished.

In 1877 I visited New Lanark and saw the stately rooms built by Robert Owen, of which I sent an account to the Times. The most complete appliances of instruction known in Europe down to 1820 are all there, as in Mr. Owen's days. A description of them may be read in the second volume of the ”History of Co-operation” referred to. When George Eliot saw the letter she said, ”the thought of the Ruins of Education there described filled her with sadness.” I made an offer to buy the neglected and decaying relics, which was declined. I wrote to Lord Playfair, whose influence might procure the purchase. I endeavoured to induce the South Kensington Museum authorities to secure them for the benefit of educationists, but they had no funds to use for that purpose.

Some women, not distinguished for personal beauty when young, become handsome and queenly later in life. This was so with Harriet Martineau.

George Eliot did not come up to Herbert Spencer's conception of personal charm. One day when she was living at G.o.dstone, she drove to the station to meet Mr. Lewes. He and I were travelling together at the time, and he caused the train to be delayed a few minutes that I might go down into the valley to meet his wife. I had not seen George Eliot for some years, and was astonished at the stately grace she had acquired.

One who knew how to state a principle describes the characteristic conviction of George Eliot, from which she never departed, and which had abiding interest for me.

”She held as a solemn conviction--the result of a lifetime of observation--that in proportion as the thoughts of men and women are removed from the earth on which they live, are diverted from their own mutual relations and responsibilities, of which they alone know anything, to an invisible world, which can alone be apprehended by belief, they are led to neglect their duty to each other, to squander their strength in vain speculations, which can result in no profit to themselves or their fellow-creatures, which diminish their capacity for strenuous and worthy action during a span of life, brief, indeed, but whose consequences will extend to remote posterity.”*