Volume I Part 13 (1/2)

Born June 12, 1802, at Norwich, she died June 27, 1876, at Ambleside. In 1832, when she was twenty-eight, Lucy Atkin wrote to tell Dr. Channing that ”a great light had arisen among women,” which shone for forty-four years. When she was a young woman, Lord Melbourne offered her a pension, which she declined on the ground that a Government which did not represent the people had no right to give away their money--an act of integrity so infrequent as to be always fresh. In her case it explains a career.

Two of the greatest women in Europe, George Sand and Harriet Martineau, of nearly equal age, died within a few weeks of each other. ”Pa.s.sed away” is the phrase now employed, as though the writer knew that a journey was intended, and was in progress, whereas as Barry Cornwall wrote:--

”A flower above and a mould below Is all the mourners ever know.”

Mrs. Fenwick Miller relates that Miss Martineau began writing for the Press, like the famous novelist mentioned, under a man's name, ”Deciphalus.” Once when at Mr. W. E. Forster's, at Burley, it fell to me to take Mrs. Forster down to dinner. Being in doubt as to what was etiquette in such cases, preferring to be thought uncouth than familiar, I did not offer my hostess my arm. Afterwards I asked Miss Martineau what I might have done. She answered that ”a guest was an equal, and any act of courtesy permissible in him was permissible in me,” but in better terms than I can invent. Recurring to the subject at another time, she said, ”I was well pleased at your consulting me as you did. It would save a world of trouble and doubt and energy, if we all asked one another what the other is qualified to tell. I, who have to be economical of energy and time, always do it. I ask, point blank, what it is important for me to know, from any one who can best tell me, and I like to be inquired of in the same way. I hope no guest will feel puzzled in my house, but ask, and what I can answer I will.” The readiness with which she placed her wisdom at the service of her friends might have given Matthew Arnold (as she was a frequent visitor at Fox Howe) his idea of ”Sweetness and Light.”

Greater than the difficulty of deafness was the fact that Miss Martineau wrote on the side of Liberalism. Tory writers dipped their pens in the best preparation of venom sold by Conservative chemists. The Church and King party, which burnt down Dr. Priestley's house, soon discovered that Miss Martineau was guilty of the further crime of being a Unitarian.

Nevertheless, she abandoned no principle, nor apologised for maintaining what she believed to be true. Spinoza, as Renan has told us, gave great offence to his adversaries by the integrity of his life, as it did not give them a fair opportunity of attacking him, for the enormity of his conduct in believing less than they believed. This was the case with Harriet Martineau, who had said in one of her books, ”A parent has a considerable influence over the subsistence fund of his family, and an absolute control over the numbers to be supported by that fund.” The _Quarterly Review_, ”written by gentlemen for gentlemen,” added, ”We venture to ask this maiden sage the meaning of this pa.s.sage.” Why not ask the Rev. Thomas Maithus, whose words Miss Martineau merely repeated?

All that was meant was ”deferred marriages.” The reviewer put an obscene construction upon it, and imputed to her his own malignant inference.

This was a common rascality of logic alike in theology and politics in those days.

The intrepid auth.o.r.ess happened to believe there was some truth in mesmerism. Dr. Elliotson, who thought so too, told me that his temerity that way cost him 7,000 a year in fees. This mesmeric episode brought the doctors upon the poor lady, who never forgave her being alive when they said she ought to be dead. Eminent physicians predicted that she would sink down in six months. When, instead of sinking down, she rode on a camel to Mount Sinai and Petra, and on horseback to Damascus, they said ”she had never been ill!”

She had the unusual capacity which the G.o.ds only are said to give--that of seeing herself as others saw her. She saw her own life and intellectual power in its strength and in its limitation, as though she stood away from them and looked at them; she saw them, as it were, palpable and apart from herself. Of imagination, which sheds suns.h.i.+ne over style, she had little. Her pictures were etchings rather than paintings. Her strength lay in directness of expression and practical thought She saw social facts and their influences, their nature and sequences, with a vividness no other writer of her day did. When she had completed the translation of Comte's ”Positive Philosophy,” she placed at my disposal twenty-five copies to give to persons unable to buy them, but able to profit by them; and to extend the knowledge of its principles. She offered me the publication of an edition of ”Household Education.” No book like it had been written before, and none since.

Four hundred copies were sold by my arrangement. The book was mainly intended for women. The review of it for the _Reasoner_* was written by my wife, as I advocated that women should take their own affairs in the press into their own hands, and give their own opinion on what concerned them. Miss Martineau's object in writing ”Household Education” was, she told me, ”to indicate that, in her opinion, education should be on a philosophical basis,” adding: ”I should see the great point of it is ignoring rank in so important a matter as the development of human beings. It was written for Buckingham Palace and the humblest cottage where life is decently conducted.” Miss Martineau lived twenty-two years after receiving prognostications of early decease. Had she not been a woman of courage she would have died, as was suggested to her. She understood that she must accept new conditions of life. She had a bed made in a railway carriage, and went down with her maids to Ambleside, and never left her house except to take air and get the relief which the smoking of a cigarette gave her, as she sat on summer evenings just outside the open windows of her sitting-room. She might have given herself greater liberty, for she did not die of heart ailment after all.

* Reasoner, vol. vi. pp. 378-9 and 390.

As I have seen in women of thought, Harriet Martineau, like George Eliot, grew handsomer as she grew older, and acquired that queenly dignity, such as is seen in George Richmond's painting of Miss Martineau in mature years.

She devoted all her diversified genius to inspire public affairs with loftier aims and persistent purpose. She was one of those Christians mentioned by Shakespeare who ”mean to be saved by believing rightly.”*

Harriet Martineau did, and these words of Flavius might be her epitaph.

* ”Twelfth Night,” act iii., scene 2.

CHAPTER XVI. THE THREE NEWMANS

[Ill.u.s.tration: Newman]

In one of the last conversations I had the pleasure to hold with Mr. Gladstone, I referred to the ”three Newmans” and their divergent careers. He said he never knew there were ”three.” He knew John Henry, the Cardinal (as he afterwards became), at Oxford. He knew Francis William there, who had repute for great attainments, retirement of manner, and high character; but had never heard there was a third brother, and was much interested in what I had to tell him. The articles of Charles Newman I published in the _Reasoner_, and their republication by the late J. W. Wheeler, were little known to the general public, who will probably hear of them now for the first time.

Though I name ”three Newmans,” this chapter relates chiefly to the one I best knew, Francis William, known as Professor Newman. The eldest of the three was John Henry, the famous Cardinal. The third brother, Charles, was a propagandist of insurgent opinion. Francis was a pure Theist, John was a Roman Catholic, and Charles a Naturist, and nothing besides; he would be cla.s.sed as an Agnostic now. Francis William was the handsomest He had cla.s.sical features, a placid, clear, and confident voice, and an impressive smile which lighted up all his face. John Henry manifested in his youth the dominancy of the ecclesiastic, and lived in a priestly world of his own creation, in which this life was overshadowed by the terrors of another unknown. Francis believed in one sole G.o.d--not the head of a firm. His Theism was of such intense, unquestioning devotion, of such pa.s.sionate confidence, as was seen in Mazzini and Theodore Parker, of America. Voltaire and Thomas Paine were not more determined Theists. In all else, Francis was human. Charles believed in Nature and nothing more. In sending me papers to print in the _Reasoner_ on ”Causation in the Universe,” he would at times say, ”My mind is leaving me, and when it returns a few months hence, I will send you a further paper.” Like Charles Lamb's poor sister, Mary, who used to put her strait waistcoat in her basket and go herself to the asylum, when she knew the days of her aberration were approaching, Charles Newman had premonition of a like kind. He had the thoroughness of thought of his family. The two brothers--the Cardinal and the Professor--united to supply Charles with an income sufficient for his needs. The Cardinal, though he knew Charles' opinions, readily joined.

When some questioning remark on Professor Newman was made incidentally in the House of Commons, in consequence of his uncompromising views, the Cardinal wrote saying that ”for his brother's purity he would die,”

which, considering their extreme divergence of opinion, was very n.o.ble in the Cardinal.

Professor Newman, I believe, wrote more books, having regard to their variety and quality, than any other scholar of his time. Science, history, poetry, theology, political economy, mathematics, travel, translations--the Iliad of Homer--among them a Sanscrit dictionary. He wrote many pamphlets and spoke for the humblest societies, regardless of the amazement of his eminent contemporaries and a.s.sociates. On questions relating to marital morality, he did not hesitate to publish leaflets. I published a series of letters for him in the _Reasoner_--now some fifty years ago, so we were long acquainted. These earlier communications came to me at a time when the authorities of University College in London, where he was Professor of Latin, were being called upon to consider whether his intellectual Liberalism might deter parents from sending their sons there. But it was bravely held that the University had no cognisance of the personal opinions of any professor. Like Professor Key, Mr. Newman took an open interest in public affairs. Though variedly learned, Professor Newman's style of speech, to whomever addressed by tongue or pen, was fresh, direct, precise, and lucid.

Mr. Newman's quarto volume on Theism, written in metre, is the greatest compendium of Theistical argument published in my time, and until Darwin wrote, no entirely conclusive answer was possible.

Francis Newman had a travelling mind. From the time when I published his ”Personal Narrative” of his early missionary experience at Aleppo, he grew, year by year, more rationalistic in his religious judgment. In one of his papers, written in the year of his death, he said: ”It may be asked, 'Is Mr. Newman a disciple of Jesus?' I answer, 'Of all nations that I know, that have a religion established by law, I have never seen the equal to what is attributed to Jesus himself. But much is attributed to Him--I disapprove of.' On the whole, if I am asked, 'Do you call yourself a Christian?' I say, in contrast to other religions, 'Yes! I do,' and so far I must call myself a Christian. But if you put upon me the words Disciple of Jesus, meaning the believing all Jesus teaches to be light and truth I cannot say it, and I think His words variously unprovable. Now all disciples, when they come to full age, ought to seek to surpa.s.s their masters. Therefore, if Jesus had faults, we, after more than two thousand years' experience, ought to expect to surpa.s.s Him, especially when an immense routine of science has been elaborately built up, with a thousand confirmations all beyond the thought of Jesus.”

What a progressive order of thought would exist now in the Christian world had Mr. Newman's conception of disciples.h.i.+p prevailed in the Churches!