Part 15 (1/2)

He told us what a blessed time Christmas was, and that people did well to be joyful on the anniversary of their Savior's birth. Before dismissing us with his blessing to our ”little rooms,” which was his habitual euphemism for our cells, he remarked that he could not wish us a happy Christmas in our unhappy condition, but he would wish us a peaceful Christmas; and he ventured to promise us that boon if, after leaving chapel, we fell on our knees and besought pardon for our sins.

Most of the prisoners received this advice with a grin, for their cell floors were black-leaded, and genuflexions in their ”little rooms” gave them too much knee-cap to their trousers.

At six o'clock I had my third instalment of Christmas fare, the last mouthfuls being consumed to the accompaniment of church bells. The neighboring Bethels were announcing their evening performance, and the sound penetrated into my cell. True believers were wending their way to church, while the heretic, who had dared to deride their creed and denounce their hypocrisy, was regaling himself on dry bread in one of their dungeons. The bells rang out against each other with a wild glee as I paced my narrow floor. They seemed mad with intoxication of victory; they mocked me with a baccha.n.a.lian frenzy of triumph. Yet I smiled grimly, for their clamor was no more than the ancient fool's shout, ”Great is Diana of the Ephesians.” Great Christ has had his day since, but he in turn is dead; dead in man's intellect, dead in man's heart, dead in man's life; a mere phantom, flitting about the aisles of churches, where priestly mummers go through the rites of a phantom creed.

I took my prison Bible and read the story of Christ's birth in Matthew and Luke, Mark and John having never heard of it or forgotten it. What an incongruous jumble of absurdities! A poor fairy tale of the world's childhood, utterly insignificant beside the stupendous revelations of science. From the fanciful story of the Magi following a star to Sh.e.l.ley's ”World on worlds are rolling ever,” what an advance! As I retired to sleep on my plank-bed my mind was full of these reflections, and when the gas was turned out, and I was left in darkness and silence, I felt serene and almost happy.

CHAPTER XVII. DAYLIGHT.

A new day dawned for me on the twenty-fifth of February. I rose as usual a few minutes before six. It was the morning of my release, or in prison language my ”discharge.” Yet I felt no excitement. I was as calm as my cell walls. ”Strange!” the reader will say. Yet not so strange after all. Every day had been filled with expectancy, and antic.i.p.ation had discounted the reality.

Instead of waiting till eight o'clock, the usual breakfast hour, superintendent Burch.e.l.l brought my last prison meal at seven. I wondered at his haste, but when he came again, a few minutes later, to see if I had done, I saw through the game. The authorities wished to ”discharge”

me rapidly, before the hour when my friends would a.s.semble at the prison gates, and so lessen the force of the demonstration. I slackened speed at once, drank my tea in sips, and munched my dry bread with great deliberation. ”Come,” said superintendent Burch.e.l.l, ”you're very slow this morning.” ”Oh,” I replied, ”there's no hurry; after twelve months of it a few minutes make little difference.” Burch.e.l.l put the words and my smile together, and gave the game up.

Down in the bathroom at the foot of the debtors' wing my clothes were set out, and some kind hand had spread a piece of bright carpet for my feet. I dressed very leisurely. With equal tardiness I went through the ceremony of receiving my effects, carefully checking every article, and counting the money coin by coin. The Governor tendered me half a sovereign, the highest sum a prisoner can earn. ”Thank you,” I said, ”but I can't take their money.” We had to go through the farce.

In the little gate-house I met Mr. Bradlaugh, Mrs. Besant, and my wife.

Colonel Milman wished us good-bye, the gate opened, and a mighty shout broke from the huge crowd outside. From all parts of London they had wended in the early morning to greet me, and there they stood in their thousands. Yet I felt rather sad than elated. The world was so full of wrong, though the hearts of those men and women beat so true!

As our open carriage crawled through the dense crowd I saw men's lips twitching and women shedding tears. They crowded round us, eager for a shake of the hand, a word, a look. At length we got free, and drove towards the Hall of Science, followed by a procession of brakes and other vehicles over half a mile long.

There was a public breakfast, at which hundreds sat down. I took a cup of tea, but ate nothing. After a long imprisonment I could not trust my stomach, and I had to make a speech.

After Mr. Bradlaugh, Mrs. Besant and the Rev. W. Sharman (secretary of the Society for the Repeal of the Blasphemy Laws), had made speeches, which I should blush to transcribe, I rose to respond. It was a ticklish moment. But I found I had a voice still, and the words came readily enough. Concluding my address I said: ”I thank you for your greeting.

I am not played out. I am thinner. The doctor told me I had lost two stone, and I believe it. But after all I do not think the s.h.i.+p's timbers are much injured. The rogues ran me aground, but they never made me haul down the flag. Now I am floated again I mean to let the old flag stream out on the wind as of yore. I mean to join the rest of our fleet in fighting the pirates and slavers on the high seas of thought.”

An hour afterwards my feet were on my own fender. I was _home_ again.

What a delicious sensation after twelve months in a prison cell!

Friends prescribed a rest at the seaside for me, but I felt that the best tonic was work. In less than three days I settled everything. I resumed the editors.h.i.+p of the _Freethinker_ at once, and began filling up my list of engagements. On meeting the Committee, who had managed our affairs in our absence, I found everything in perfect order, besides a considerable profit at the banker's. Messrs. A. Hilditch, R. O. Smith, J., Grout and G. Standring had given ungrudgingly of their time; Mr.

C. Herbert, acting as treasurer, had kept the accounts with painstaking precision; and Mrs. Besant had proved how a woman could take the lead of men. Nor must I forget Mr. Robert Forder, the Secretary of the National Secular Society, who acted as shopman at our publis.h.i.+ng office, and sustained the business by his a.s.siduity. I had also to thank Dr. Aveling for his interim editors.h.i.+p of the _Freethinker_, and the admirable manner in which he had conducted _Progress_.

The first number of the _Freethinker_ under my fresh editors.h.i.+p appeared on the following Thursday. In concluding my introductory address I said:

”I promise the readers of the _Freethinker_ that they shall, so far as my powers avail, find no diminution in the vigor and vivacity of its attacks on the shams and superst.i.tions of our age.