These pages being autobiographic in their nature, something must be said
under this head. I was born April 13, 1817, which readers complained I
omitted to state in a former work* of a similar kind to this, probably
thinking it a "Bygone" of no importance.
* "Sixty Years 01 an Agitator's Life," afterwards referred
to as "Sixty Years."
*****
It was in 1817 that Robert Owen informed mankind that "all the religions
in the world were in error," which was taken to mean that they were
wrong throughout; whereas all the "Prophet of the City of London Tavern"
sought to prove was that all faiths were in error so far as they rested
on the dogma that men can believe if they will--irrespective of evidence
whatever may be the force of it before them. Mr. Owen's now truistical
statement set the dry sticks of every church aflame for seventy years.
In many places the ashes smoulder still. By blending Theology with
Sociology, the Churches mixed two things better kept apart Confusion
raged for years on a thousand platforms and pulpits. I mention this
matter because it was destined to colour and occupy a large portion of
my life.
*****
The habit of my thoughts is to run into speeches, as the thoughts of a
poet run into verse; but if there be a more intrinsic characteristic of
my mind it is accurately described in the words of Coleridge:--
"I am by the law of my nature a Reasoner. A person who should suppose
I meant by that word, an arguer, would not only not understand me, but
would understand the contrary of my meaning. I can take no interest
whatever in hearing or saying anything merely as a fact--merely as
having happened. I must refer to something within me before I can regard
it with any curiosity or care. I require in everything a reason why the
thing _is_ at all, and why it is _there_ or _then_ rather than elsewhere
or at another time."
This may be why I entitled the first periodical edited in my name, _The
Reasoner_.
*****
My firstborn child, Madeline, perished while I was in Gloucester
Prison.* There is no other word which described what happened in 1842.
* See "Last Trial for Atheism."
In 1895 (as I had always intended), I had a brass tablet cast bearing
the simple inscription--
"Near this spot was buried
MADELINE,
Daughter of George Jacob and Eleanor Holyoake,
WHO PERISHED
October! 1842."
This tablet I had placed on the wall over the grave where the poor
child lay. The grave is close to the wall. The cemetery authorities
had objections to the word "Perished." When I explained to them the
circumstances of Madeline's death, they permitted its erection, on my
paying a cemetery fee of two guineas. The tablet will endure as long
as the cemetery wall lasts. The tablet is on the left side of the main
entrance to the cemetery, somewhat obscured by trees now.
*****
Dr. Samuel Smiles published a book on Self-Help in 1859. In 1857, two
years earlier, I had used the same title "Self-Help by the People." In a
later work, "Self-Help, a Hundred Years Ago," the title was continued. I
had introduced it into Co-operation, where it became a watchword. I have
wondered whether Dr. Smiles borrowed the name from me. He knew me
in 1841, when he was editing the Leeds _Times_ to which I was a
contributor. He must have seen in Mill's "Principles of Political
Economy," "Self-Help by the People--History of Co-operation in
Rochdale," quoted in Mill's book (book iv. chap. viii.).
*****
The phrase "Science is the Providence of Life" was an expression I had
used in drawing up a statement of Secular Principles twenty-four years
before I found it in the poem of Akenside's.
*****
Two things of the past I may name as they indicate the age of opinions,
by many supposed to be recent. Co-operators are considered as intending
the abolition of competition, but as what we call nature--human,
animal, and insect--is founded upon competition, nobody has the means of
abolishing it. In the first number of the _Reasoner_, June 3, 1846, in
the first article, I stated that Mr. Owen and his friends proclaimed
co-operation as the "Corrector of the excesses of competition in social
life"--a much more modest undertaking than superseding it.
*****
The second thing I name that I wrote in the same number of the
_Reasoner_ is a short paper on "Moral Mathematics," setting forth that
there is a mathematics of morality as well as of lines and angles. There
are problems in morality, the right solution of which contributes as
much to mental discipline as any to be found in Euclid. These I thus set
forth--
Problem 1. Given--an angry man to answer without being angry yourself.
Problem 2. Given--an opponent full of bitterness and unjust insinuations
to reply to without asperity or stooping to counter insinuations.
Problem 3. Given--your own favourite truths to state without dogmatism,
and to praise without pride, adducing with fairness the objections to
them without disparaging the judgment of those who hold the objections.
Problem 4. Given--an inconsistent and abusive opponent. It is required
to reply to him by argument, convincing rather than retorting. All
opportunities of "thrashing" him are to be passed by, all pain to be
saved him as far as possible, and no word set down whose object is not
the opponent's improvement.
Problem 5. Given--the error of an adversary to annihilate with the same
vigour with which you could annihilate him.
Problem 6. Required--out of the usual materials to construct a public
body, who shall tolerate just censure and despise extravagant praise.
*****
One day I found a piece of twisted paper which I picked up thinking I
had dropped it myself. I found in it a gold ring with a snake's head. It
was so modest and curious that I wore it. Four years after, on a visit
to Mr. W. H. Duignan, at Rushall Hall, on the border of Cannock Chase,
I lost it. Four days later I arrived by train at Rugby Station with five
heavy-footed countrymen. I went to the refreshment room. On my return
only one man was in the carriage. The sun was shining brightly on
the carriage floor, and there in the middle, lay, all glittering and
conspicuous, my lost ring unseen and untrodden. I picked it up with
incredulity and astonishment. How it came there or could come there, or
being there, how it could escape the heavy feet of the passengers
who went out, or the eyes of the one remaining, I cannot to this day
conceive. After I had lost it, I had walked through Kidderminster,
Dudley Castle, and Birmingham, and searched for it several times. I
had dressed and undressed four times. I lost it finally during Lord
Beaconsfield's last Government, at the great Drill Hall meeting at
Blackheath,* in a Jingo crush made to prevent Mr. Gladstone entering to
speak there on the Eastern policy of that day. In future times should
the ground be excavated, the spot where I stood will be marked with
gold--the only place so marked by me in this world.
* November 30, 1878.
*****
It is probably vanity--though I disguise it under the name of
pride--that induces me to insert here certain incidents. Nevertheless
pride is the major motive. When I have been near unto death, and have
asked myself what has been the consolation of this life, I found it in
cherished memories of illustrious persons of thought and action,
whose friendship I had shared. There are other incidents--as Harriet
Martineau's Letter to Lloyd Garrison, Tyndall's testimony, elsewhere
quoted--which will never pass from my memory.
*****
The first dedication to me was that of a poem by Allen Davenport,
1843--an ardent Whitechapel artisan. The tribute had value in my eyes,
coming from one of the toiling class--and being a recognition on the
part of working men of London, that I was one of their way of thinking
and could be trusted to defend the interests of industry.
*****
The next came from the theological world--a quite unexpected incident in
those days. The Rev. Henry Crosskey dedicated his "Defence of Religion"
to me. He was of the priestly profession, but had a secular heart, and
on questions of freedom at home and abroad he could be counted upon,
as though he was merely human. The dedication brought Mr. Crosskey into
trouble with Dr. Martineau. Unitarians were personally courteous to
heretics in private, but they made no secret that they were disinclined
to recognise them in public. Dr. Martineau shared that reservation.
Letter from Dr. James Martineau to Rev. W. H. Crosskey:--
"It is very difficult to say precisely how far our respect for honest
conviction, and indignation at a persecuting temper, should carry us in
our demonstrations towards men unjustly denounced. I do confess that,
while I would stoutly resist any ill-usage of such a man as Holyoake, or
any attempt to gag him, I could hardly dedicate a book to him: this act
seeming to imply a special sympathy and admiration directed upon that
which distinctively characterises the man. Negative defence from injury
is very different from positive homage. After all, Holyoake's principles
are undeniably more subversive of the greatest truths and genuine basis
of human life than the most unrelenting orthodoxy. However, it is a
generous impulse to appear as the advocate of a man whom intolerance
unjustly reviles."*
* From "Life of W. H. Crosskey," p. 90.
Thus he gave the young minister to understand--that while there was
nothing wrong in his having respect for me, he need not have made it
public. At that time it was chivalry in Mr. Crosskey to do what he did,
for which I respected him all his days.
*****
A third dedication I thought more of, and still value, came from the
political world, and was the first literary testimony of my interest
in it. It came from "Mark Rutherford" (William Hale White), who knew
everything I knew, and a good deal more. He inscribed to me, 1866, a
remarkable "Argument for the Extension of the Franchise," which had all
the characteristics of statement, which have brought him renown in later
years. He said in his prefatory letter to me: "If my argument does any
service for Reform, Reformers will have to thank you for it, as they
have to thank you for a good many other things." They were words to
prize.
*****
Recently a letter came from Professor Goldwin Smith, who was Cobden's
admiration and envy, as he once told me, for the power of expressing an
argument or a career in a sentence. His letter to me was as follows:--
"You and I have lived together through many eventful and changeful
years. The world in these years has, I hope and believe, grown better
than it was when we came into it. In respect of freedom of opinion and
industrial justice, the two objects to which your life has been most
devoted, real progress has certainly been made."
The main objects of my life are here distinguished and expressed in six
words.
*****
Reviewers of the autobiographic volumes preceding these, complained
that they contained too little about myself. If they read the last four
paragraphs given here they will be of opinion that I have said enough
now.
*****
At the Co-operative Congress held in Gloucester, 1879, a number of
delegates went down to see the gaol. When they arrived before it, Mr.
Abraham Greenwood, of Rochdale, exclaimed, "Take off your hats, lads!
That's where Holyoake was imprisoned." They did so. That incident--when
it was related to me--impressed me more than anything else connected
with Co-operation. I did not suppose those tragical six months in that
gaol were in the minds of co-operators, or that any one had respect for
them.
*****
The chapter, "Things which went as they Would," shows that serving
co-operators had its inconveniences, but there were compensatory
incidents which I recount with pleasure. One was their contribution to
the Annuity of 1876, which Mr. Hughes himself commended to them at
the London Congress. It was owing to Major Evans Bell and Mr. Walter
Morrison that the project was successful.
*****
The other occurred at the Doncaster Congress, 1903. In my absence a
resolution had been passed thanking me for services I had rendered
in Ten Letters in Defence of Co-operation. When I rose to make
acknowledgment, all the large audience stood up. It was the first time
I had ever been so received anywhere, showing that services which seemed
un-noted at the time, lived in remembrance.
*****
Here I may cite a letter from Wendell Phillips. Of the great American
Abolitionists, Phillips, with his fine presence and intrepid eloquence,
was regarded as the "noblest Roman of them all." Theodore Parker, he
described to me as the Jupiter of the pulpit; and Russell Lowell has
drawn Lloyd Garrison, in the famous verse--
"In a dark room, unfriended and unseen,
Toiled o'er his types, a poor unlearn'd young man.
The place was low, unfurnitured and mean,
But there the freedom of a race began."
I corresponded with them in their heroic days. It is one of the letters
of Phillips to me I quote here:--
"Boston,
"July 22, 1874.
"My dear Sir,--I ought long ago to have thanked you for sending
me copies of your pamphlets on John Stuart Mill and the Rochdale
Pioneers--and with so kind and partial a recognition of my co-operation
with you in your great cause.
"That on Mill was due certainly to a just estimate of him, but how sad
that human jackals should make it necessary. That on Co-operation I read
and read again, welcoming the light you throw on it, for it is one of
my most hopeful stepping-stones to a higher future. Thank you for
the lesson--it cleared one or two dark places--not the first by any
means--for I've read everything of yours I could lay my hands on. There
was one small volume on Rhetoric--'Public Speaking and Debate,' methods
of address, hints towards effective speech, etc.--which I studied
faithfully, until some one to whom I had praised and lent it, acting
probably on something like Coleridge's rule, that books belong to those
who most need them--never returned me my well-thumbed essay, to my keen
regret. Probably you never knew that we had printed your book. This was
an American reprint--wholly exhausted--proof that it did good service.
We reprinted, some ten years ago, one of your wisest tracts, the
'Difficulties that obstruct Co-operation.' It did us yeoman service. But
enough, I shall beg you to accept a volume of old speeches printed long
ago, because it includes my only attempt to criticise you--which you
probably never saw. In it I will put, when I mail it, the last and best
photograph of Sumner, and if you'll exchange, I'll add one of
"Yours faithfully, and ever,
"Wendell Phillips.
"Mr. G.J. Holyoake."
*****
With Mr. Charles Bradlaugh I had personal relations all his life. I took
the chair for him at the first public lecture he delivered. I gave
him ready applause and support. At the time of what was called his
"Parliamentary struggle," I was entirely with him and ready to help him.
It was with great reluctance and only in defence of principle, to which
I had long been committed, that I appeared as opposed to him. He claimed
to represent Free Thought, with which I had been identified long before
his day. My conviction was that a Free Thinker should have as much
courage, consistency, and self-respect as any Apostle, or Jew, or
Catholic, or Quaker. All had in turn refused to make a profession of
opinion they did not hold, at the peril of death, or, as in the case of
O'Connell and the Jews, at the certainty of exclusion from Parliament.
They had only to take an oath, to the terms of which they could not
honestly subscribe. Mr. Bradlaugh had no scruple about doing this. In
the House of Commons he openly kissed the Bible, in which he did not
believe--a token of reverence he did not feel. He even administered to
himself the oath, which was contrary to his professed convictions. This
seemed to be a reflection upon the honour of Free Thought. Had I not
dissented from it, I should have been a sharer in the scandal, and Free
Thought--so far as I represented it--would have been regarded as below
the Christian or Pagan level.
The key to Mr. Bradlaugh's character, which unlocks the treasure-house
of his excellences and defects, and enables the reader to estimate him
justly, is the perception that his one over-riding motive and ceaseless
aim was the ascendancy of the right _through him_. It was this passion
which inspired his best efforts, and also led to certain aberration of
action. But what we have to remember now, and permanently, is that it
was ascendancy of the _right_ in political and theological affairs that
he mainly sought for, fought for, and vindicated. It is this which will
long cause his memory to be cherished.
At the time of his death I wrote honouring notices of his career in
the _Bradford Observer_ and elsewhere, which were reproduced in other
papers. Otherwise, I found opportunity on platforms of showing my
estimate of his character and public services. I had never forgotten
an act of kindness he had, in an interval of goodwill, done me. When
disablement and blindness came in 1876, he collected from the readers
of his journal L170 towards a proposed annuity for me. It was a great
pleasure to me to repay that kindness by devising means (which others
neither thought of nor believed in) of adding thrice that sum to the
provision being made for his survivors. It was a merit in him that
devotion to pursuits of public usefulness did not, in his opinion,
absolve him from keeping a financial promise, as I knew, and have
heard friends who aided him testify--a virtue not universal among
propagandists. No wonder the coarse environments of his early life lent
imperiousness to his manners. In later years, when he was in the society
of equals, where masterfulness was less possible and less necessary,
he acquired courtesy and a certain dignity--the attribute of conscious
power. He was the greatest agitator, within the limits of law, who
appeared in my time among the working people. Of his own initiative he
incurred no legal danger, and those who followed him were not led into
it. He was a daring defender of public right, and not without genius
in discovering methods for its attainment. One form of genius lies in
discovering developments of a principle which no one else sees. Had he
lived in the first French Revolution, he had ranked with Mirabeau and
Danton. Had he been with Paine in America, he had spoken "Common Sense"
on platforms. He died before being able to show in Parliament the
best that was in him. Though he had no College training like Professor
Fawcett, Indian lawyers found that Mr. Bradlaugh had a quicker and
greater grasp of Indian questions than the Professor. It was no mean
distinction--it was, indeed, a distinction any man might be proud to
have won--that John Stuart Mill should have left on record, in one of
his latest works, his testimony to Mr. Bradlaugh's capacity, which he
discerned when others did not. Like Cobbett, the soldiers' barracks
did not repress Bradlaugh's invincible passion for the distinction of a
political career. In the House of Commons he took, both in argument and
debate, a high rank, and surpassed compeers there of a thousand times
his advantages of birth and education. That from so low a station he
should have risen so high, and, after reaching the very platform of
his splendid ambition, he should die in the hour of his opportunity
of triumph, was one of the tragedies of public life, which touched the
heart of the nation, in whose eyes Mr. Bradlaugh had become a commanding
figure.
*****
It was in connection with the controversy concerning the Oath that I
received a letter from John Stuart Mill, which when published in the
_Daily News_, excited much surprise. Mr. Mill was of opinion, that the
oath, being made the condition of obtaining justice, ordinary persons
might take it. But one who was known to disbelieve the terms of it, and
had for years publicly written and spoken to that effect, had better
not take it. This was the well-known Utilitarian doctrine that the
consequences of an act are the justification of it. Francis Place
had explained to me that Bentham's doctrine was that the sacrifice
of liberty or life was justifiable only on the ground that the public
gained by it. A disciple should have very strong convictions who differs
from his master, and I differ with diffidence from Mr. Mill as to
the propriety of carrying the Utilitarian doctrine into the domain of
morals. Truth is higher than utility, and goes before it. Truth is a
measure of utility, and not utility the measure of truth. Conscience is
higher than consequence. We are bound first to consider what is right.
There may be in some cases, reasons which justify departure from the
right. But these are exceptions. The general rule is--Truth has the
first claim upon us.
To take an oath when you do not believe in an avenging Deity who will
enforce it, is to lie and know that you lie. This surely requires
exceptional justification. It is nothing to the purpose to allege that
the oath is binding upon you. The security of that are the terms of the
oath. The law knows no other. To admit the terms to be unnecessary is to
abolish the oath.
*****
When a youth, attending lectures at the Mechanics' Institution, I soon
discerned that the more eminent speakers were the clearer. They knew
their subjects, were masters of the outlines, which by making bold and
plain, we were instructed. Outline is the beginning of art and the charm
of knowledge. Remembering this, I found no difficulty in teaching very
little children to write in a week.
It is a great advantage to children to take care that their first
notions are true. The primary element of truth is simplicity--with
children it is their first fascination. I had only to show them that the
alphabet meant no more than a line and a circle. A little child can make
a "straight stroke" "and a round O."
The alphabet is made up of fifteen straight line and dozen curved line
letters. The root of the fifteen straight line letters is J placed in
various ways. The root of the eleven curved line letters is O or parts
of O and I joined together.
A is made by two straight lines leaning against each other at the top,
and a line across the middle.
H is made of two upright lines with a straight line between them.
V is made of two straight lines meeting at the bottom. If two upright
lines are added to the V it becomes M.
Two V's put together make W. The letters L and T and X and Z make
themselves, so easy is it to place the straight lines which compose
them.
O makes itself. A short line makes it into Q. If the side of O be left
open it is a C. If two half O's are joined together they make S. Half O
and an upright line make D. An upright line and a half O make P. Another
half added and B is made.
After a second or third time a child will understand the whole alphabet.
Such is the innate faculty of imitation and construction in children
that they will put the letters together themselves when the method is
made plain to them, and within a week will compose their own name and
their mother's. At the same time they learn to read as well as to
write. What they are told they are apt to forget, what they write they
remember.
Reason is the faculty of seeing what follows as a consequence from what
is, but to define distinction well is a divine gift. My one aim was to
make things clear.
*****
One of my suggestions to the young preachers, who had two sermons on
Sunday to prepare, was that they should give all their strength to the
evening discourse and arrange with their congregation to deliver the
other from one of the old divines of English or Continental renown,
which would inform as well as delight hearers. It would be an attraction
to the outside public. Few congregations know anything of the eloquence,
the happy and splendid illustrations and passages of thought to be found
in the fathers of the Church of every denomination. Professor Francis
William Newman, whose wide knowledge and fertility of thought had few
equals in his day, told me that he should shrink from the responsibility
of having to deliver a proficient and worthy discourse fifty-two times
a year. Anyhow, for the average preacher, better one bright ruddy
discourse, than two pale-faced sermons every Sunday.
*****
Those who remained true to Chartism till the end of it are recorded
in the following paragraph under the title of the "National Charter
Association," which appeared in _Reynolds's Newspaper_, January 4,
1852:--
"On Wednesday evening last, the scrutineers appointed by the
metropolitan localities attended at the office, 14, Southampton Street,
Strand, and having inspected the votes received, gave the following as
the result, in favour of the following nine:--
"Ernest Jones (who received 900 votes), Feargus O'Connor, John Arnott,
T. M. Wheeler, James Grassby, John Shaw, W. J. Linton, J. J. Bezer, G.
J. Holyoake.
"Messrs. J. B. O'Brien, Gerald Massey, and Arthur Trevelyan having
declined to serve, the votes received on their behalf have not been
recognised.
"We, the undersigned, hereby declare the nine persons first named to be
duly elected to form the Executive Committee for the ensuing year.
"John Washington, City Locality.
"Edwd. John Loomes, Finsbury Locality.
"December 31, 1851."
*****
After I became an octogenarian, I was asked whether my years might be
ascribed to my habits. I could only explain what my habits were. In the
first half of my life I ate whatever came to hand, and as not enough
came I easily observed moderation. But then I was disposed to be
moderate on principle, having read in the _Penny Magazine_, about
1830, that Dr. Abernethy told a lady "she might eat anything eatable
in moderation." In the second and later half of my life I gave heed to
Carnaro, and sought to limit each meal to the least quantity necessary
for health. The limitation of quantity included liquids as well as
solids, decreasing the amount of both "in relation to age and activity,"
as Sir Henry Thompson advised. Not thinking much of meat, I limited that
to a small amount, and cereals to those that grow above ground. A tepid
bath for the eye (on the recommendation of the Rev. Dr. Molesworth, of
Rochdale) and a soap bath for the body every morning ends the catalogue
of my habits.
My general mode of mind has been to avoid excess in food, in pleasure,
in work, and in expectation. By not expecting much, I have been saved
from worry if nothing came. When anything desirable did arrive, I had
the double delight of satisfaction and surprise. Shakespeare's counsel--
"Be not troubled with the tide which bears
O'er thy contents its strong necessities,
But let determined things to destiny
Hold, unbewailed their way"--
ought to be part of every code of health.
The conduciveness of my habits to longevity may be seen in this. More
than forty of my colleagues, all far more likely to live than myself,
have long been dead. Had I been as strong as they, I also should have
died as they did. Lacking their power of hastening to the end, I have
lingered behind.
*****
For the rest--
"From my window is a glimpse of sea
Enough for me,
And every evening through the window bars
Peer in the friendly stars."
The principles and aims of earlier years are confirmed by experience at
88. Principles are like plants and flowers. They suit only those whom
they nourish. Nothing is adapted to everybody.
*****
Goethe said: "When I was a youth I planted a cherry-tree, and watched
its growth with delight. Spring frost killed the blossoms, and I had
to wait another year before the cherries were ripe--then the birds ate
them--another year the caterpillars ate them--another year a
greedy neighbour stole them--another year the blight withered them.
Nevertheless, when I have a garden again, I shall plant another
cherry-tree." My years now are "dwindling to their shortest span "; if
I should have my days over again, I shall plant my trees again--certain
that if they do grow they will yield verdure and fruit in some of the
barren places of this world.