Produced by David Widger
BYGONES WORTH REMEMBERING
By George Jacob Holyoake
"The best prophet of the future is the past."
Lord Byron
Volume I.
New York E. P. Dutton And Company
31 West Twenty-Third Street 1905
[Illustration: Holyoake]
PREFACE
If the preface of a book be a plea to the reader, its force must lie in
the aims of the author. In the following pages his main aim has been
to be of service to somebody. That is a principle, which, amid the
ravelment, perplexity, and entanglements of the world, always finds a
pathway open. Such a principle is as an All-Seeing Eye, to which he who
acknowledges it, is amenable, since it makes plain to him the devious,
time-serving byways he should avoid.
The writer has no interest, no taste, no trust, save in definite,
verifiable ideas. His aim has been to keep clear of the Sin of
Pretension, which consists in declaring, or assuming to be true, that
which the writer or speaker does not know to be true. What errors
negligence of this rule has bred! What misdirection it has perpetuated!
Into how many labyrinths, where truth was not to be found, has it led
men! What can be more useful, or holier, than inciting the reader to
beware of pretension in speech, in morals, in politics, and in piety?
To keep as clear as possible of this universal sin may serve many and
mislead none.
Professor Jowett has told us that "where Inquiry is denied at the door,
Doubt gets in at the window." This is the way it came to the writer
of this preface, and accounts for a certain liberty of expression the
reader may meet with, if he ventures further into these pages.
A sentence of Mr. Allen Upward will sufficiently describe the spirit
of this book: "Let us try to tolerate each other instead of trying to
convert each other." The author disclaims belonging to that class who
have "great expectations," which are as vain in literature as in life.
The utmost the author looks forward to is that semi-friendly applause
which is accorded to a platform speaker, not so much for any merit in
his oration as for his unexpected consideration for the audience by
concluding.
G. J. HOLYOAKE.
CHAPTER I. CONCERNING BYGONES PREFATORY
It was a saying of Dryden that "Anything, though ever so little, which
a man speaks of himself, in my opinion, is still too much." This depends
upon what a writer says. No man is required to give an opinion of
himself. Others will do that much better, if he will wait But if a
man may not speak of himself at all--reports of adventure, of personal
endeavour, or of service, will be largely impossible. To relate is not
to praise. The two things are quite distinct. Othello's imperishable
narrative of his love of Desdemona contained no eulogy of himself. A
story of observation, of experience, or of effort, or estimate of men
or of opinions, I may venture upon--is written for the reader alone. The
writer will be an entirely negligible quantity.
Lord Rosebery, who can make proverbs as well as cite them, lately
recalled one which has had great vogue in its day, namely, "Let bygones
be bygones." Life would be impossible or very unpleasant if every one
persisted in remembering what had better be forgotten. Proverbs are like
plants: they have a soil and climate under which alone they flourish.
Noble maxims have their limitations. Few have universal applicability.
If, for instance, the advice to "let bygones be bygones" be taken as
universally true, strange questions arise. Are mistakes never more to
teach us what to avoid? Are the errors of others no more to be a warning
to us? Is the Book of Experience to be closed? Is no more history to be
written? If so philosophy could no longer teach wisdom by examples, for
there would no longer be any examples to go upon. If all the mistakes
of mankind and all the miscalculations of circumstance be forgotten, the
warnings of the sages will die with them.
He who has debts, or loans not repaid, or promises not kept, or
contracts unfulfilled in his memory, had better keep them there until
he has made what reparation he can. The Bygone proverb does not apply to
him. There are other derelictions of greater gravity than fall under the
head of intellectual petty larceny, such as the conscious abandonment
of principle, or desertion of a just cause, which had better be kept in
mind for rectification.
If an admiral wrecked his ships, or a general lost his army, or a
statesman ruined his country, by flagrant want of judgment--ever so
conscientiously--it is well such things should be borne in mind by those
who may renew, by fresh appointment, these opportunities of calamity.
It would be to encourage incapacity were such bygones consigned to
oblivion. It may be useless to dwell upon "spilt milk," but further
employment of the spiller may not be prudent.
Slaves of the saying, "Let bygones perish," would construct mere
political man-traps, which never act when depredators are about. In
human affairs bygones have occurred worth remembering as guides for the
future.
It is said that "greatness is thrust upon a man"--what is meant is a
position of greatness. Greatness lies in the quality of the individual,
and cannot be "thrust" on any man. It is true that intrinsic greatness
is often left unrecognised. It would be a crime against progress were
these cases, when known, consigned to forgetfulness. Noble thoughts as
well as noble acts are worth bearing in mind, however long ago they may
have occurred.
My friend Joseph Cowen, who from his youth had regarded me as a
chartered disturber of the unreasoning torpidity of the public
conscience, described me as an agitator. All the while I never was a
Pedlar of Opinions. I never asked people to adopt mine, but to reason
out their own. I merely explained the nature of what I took to be
erroneous in theological and public affairs. Neither did I find fault
with prevailing ideas, save where I could, or thought I could, suggest
other principles of action more conducive to the welfare of all who
dwell in cottages or lodgings--for whom I mainly care. I was for
equal opportunities for all men, guaranteed by law, and for equitable
participation in profit among all who, by toil of hand or brain,
contributed to the wealth of the State.
Yet, though I never obtruded my convictions, neither did I conceal them.
No public questioner ever went empty away,--if his inquiry was relevant
and I had the knowledge he sought Sometimes, as at Cheltenham (in 1842),
when an inquiry was malicious and the reply penal, the questioner got
his answer. My maxim was that of Professor Blackie:--
"Wear thy heart not on thy sleeve,
But on just occasion
Let men know what you believe,
With breezy ventilation."
Thus, without intending it, I came to be counted an "agitator."
As to the matter of the following pages, they relate, as all
autobiographical reminiscences do, to events that are past. But whether
they relate to acts, or events, or opinions, to tragedy or gaiety, they
are all meant to fulfil one condition--that of having instruction or
guidance of some kind in them--which bring them within the class of
"bygones worth remembering."
One day as I was walking briskly along Fleet Street, a person in greater
haste than myself running down Johnson's Court collided with me, and
both of us fell to the ground. On rising, I said, "If you knocked me
down, never mind; if I knocked you down, I beg your pardon." He did
not reciprocate my forgiveness, thinking I had run against him
intentionally. Nevertheless, I say to any resenting reader who does
me mischief, "never mind." If I have done him any harm it has been
unwittingly, and I tender him real apologies.