In the month of November (1882) I announced my intention to bring out
a new monthly magazine entitled _Progress_. Several friends thought it
impolitic to launch my new venture in such troubled waters, and advised
me to wait for the issue of the prosecution. But I resolved to act
exactly as though the prosecution had never been initiated. It seemed to
me the wisest course to go on with my work until I was stopped, and risk
the consequences whatever they might be. The result has proved that I
was right; but I do not wish to boast of my judgment, for when I was
imprisoned all my interests were fearfully imperilled, and everything
depended on the loyal exertions of a few staunch Freethinkers (of whom
more anon) who stepped into the breach and defended them with great
courage and ability until I was able to resume my post. _Progress_
made its due appearance in January, 1883, and, notwithstanding the
extraordinary vicissitudes of its career, it has flourished ever since
without any solution of continuity.
While I was advertising _Progress_ I was also preparing the second
Christmas Number of the _Freethinker_. The announcement of its contents
caused a great deal of excitement, and I am prepared to admit that it
was, to use a common phrase, the "warmest" publication ever issued. It
was full from cover to cover of what the orthodox call blasphemy, and it
was speedily described by the Christian press as more "outrageous" than
any of the ordinary numbers for which we were already prosecuted.
The description was perfectly correct. I had concluded that my wisest
policy, as it was certainly the most courageous, was to disregard the
Blasphemy Laws and defy the bigots; to show that Freethought was not
to be cowed or intimidated by threats of imprisonment. Facing the enemy
boldly appeared to me better than running away; a course in which I
could see neither glory, honor, nor profit. Even if I had consulted my
safety above all things, I should have seen little wisdom in flight; and
being shot in the back, while no less dangerous, is far more ignominious
than being shot in the front. I have paid the full penalty of my policy;
I have suffered twelve months' torture in a Christian gaol; yet I do not
repent the course I took; and ever since my release from prison I
have felt it my duty to continue doing the very thing for which I was
punished.
Being tastefully got-up, well printed, profusely illustrated, and
extensively denounced by the organs of Toryism and piety, this Christmas
Number had a very large sale. Yet, strange as it may sound to some
bigoted ears, Mr. Ramsey and I were after all several pounds out of
pocket by it, the expenses being altogether out of proportion to
the price, and our object being less material gain than the wide
dissemination of our views. With the knowledge of this pecuniary loss
in our minds, it may be imagined how grimly we smiled when the counsel
sternly alluded to our "nefarious profits."
I shall have occasion to deal with the contents of this Christmas Number
when I explain our second Indictment; which, I repeat, as there is
general misunderstanding on the subject, was tried before the first, and
resulted in Judge North's atrocious and almost unparalleled sentence.
During the interval between the publication of this "budget of
blasphemy" and the date of our summons to answer a criminal charge
founded on it, I had several interviews with Mr. E. Truelove, a
gentleman well known to all advanced people in London as a veteran
champion of the freedom as the press. At the age of seventy, after
a long life _sans peur et sans reproche_, this fine old reformer was
dragged by the paid Secretary of the Society for the Suppression of Vice
(or the Vice Society as Cobbett always called it) into a criminal court
to answer a charge of obscenity. The objectionable matter was contained
in an extremely mild, not to say mawkish, essay on the population
question by Robert Dale Owen, a man of literary eminence in the United
States, and once an ambassador of the great Republic. Like ourselves,
Mr. Truelove was tried twice before a verdict of guilty could be
obtained. His sentence was four months' imprisonment like a common
felon. Mr. Truelove was indisposed to reveal the secrets of his
prison-house out of a tender regard for my feelings, but seeing that I
preferred to know the worst, he told me all about the felon's cell,
the plank bed, the oakum picking, the wretched diet, and the horribly
monotonous life. My chief feeling on hearing this sad tale was one
of indignation at the thought that a man of honest convictions and
blameless life should be subjected to such privations and indignities.
It did not weaken my resolution; it only deepened my hatred of the
system which sanctioned such iniquities.
From America, however, came a piece of bitter-sweet news. Mr. D. M.
Bennett, editor of the New York _Truthseeker_, had just died. His
end was hastened by the heart-disease he contracted while undergoing
imprisonment for an "offence" similar to that of Mr. Truelove. Yet
almost at the moment of Mr. Bennett's death, another jury had found
another publisher of the very same work Not Guilty. I learned from the
New York papers that the acquittal was partly due to the impartiality
of the judge, partly to the progress the public mind had made on the
population question, and partly to the fact that the accused publisher
conducted his own defence. Here was a gleam of hope. I also might
meet with an impartial judge, I also might find a jury reflecting an
enlightened public opinion, and I also was resolved to defend myself.
Alas! I did not know that I was to meet with the most bigoted judge
on the bench, and to plead to a jury exactly calculated to effect his
vindictive purpose.
On Thursday, December 7, 1882, we published our second Christmas Number
of the Freethinker. I will deal with its contents presently, when I have
narrated how it led to our second prosecution. Let it here suffice
to say that it was undoubtedly a very "warm" publication, and well
calculated to arouse the slumbering Blasphemy Laws. Some Freethinkers
even were astonished at its audacity. A few belonging to an
old-fashioned school, and a few more who were assiduously courting
"respectability," resented our action; although, as the vast majority
of our party were of an opposite opinion, they refrained from expressing
their reprobation too loudly. In reply to their murmurs I wrote an
article in my paper on "Superstitious Freethinkers." It appeared in the
number for December 31, and thus appropriately closed a year of combat.
A few passages are, perhaps, worth insertion here.
"It has been said of Robert Burns that, although his head and
heart rejected Calvinism, he never quite got it out of his blood.
There is much truth in this metaphor. Burns was, in religious
matters, one of a very large class. Many men rid their intellects
of a superstition, without being able to resist its power over
their feelings. Even so profound a sceptic as Renan has admitted
that his life is guided by a faith he no longer possesses. And
we are all familiar with instances of the same thing..."
"Reverting to avowed Freethinkers, it is evident that some of
them who have lost belief in God are afraid to speak too loud
lest he should overhear them. 'How old are you, Monsieur
Fontenelle?' asked a pretty young French lady. 'Hush, not so
loud, dear Madame!' replied the witty nonagenarian, pointing
upwards. What Fontenelle did as a piece of graceful wit, some
Freethinkers do without any wit at all. They object to laughing
at the gods, whether Christian, Brahmanic or Mohammedan; and
perhaps they would extend the same friendly consideration to
Mumbo Jumbo. Strange that people should be so tender about
ghosts! Especially when they don't even believe them to be
real ghosts. To the Atheist all gods are fancies, mere
delusions (not _illusions_), like the philosopher's stone,
witchcraft, astrology, holy water and miracles. I am as much
entitled to ridicule the gods of Christianity as any other
Freethinker is entitled to ridicule the miracles at Lourdes;
and when 'taste' is dragged into the question, I simply reply
that there is as much ill taste in the one case as in the other.
All that this 'taste' can mean is that no devout delusion should
be ridiculed, which is itself one of the greatest pieces of
absurdity ever perpetrated. It would shield every form of
'spiritual' lunacy in the world.
"These squeamish Freethinkers don't object to ridicule in
politics, literature or social life. They rather approve _Punch_
and the other comic journals, even when these satirise living
persons who feel the sting. Why, then, do they object to ridicule
in religion? Simply because they still _feel_ that there is
something sacred about it. Now I insist that on the Atheist's
principles there can be no such sacredness, and I decline to
recognise it. I take the full consequences and claim the full
liberty of my belief.
"Christians may, of course, urge that their _feelings_ on such
a subject as religion _are sacred_, and a few superstitious
Freethinkers may concede this monstrous position. I do not.
The feelings of a Christian about Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
are no more sacred than my feelings on any other subject.
I have no quarrel with persons, and I recognise how many are
hurt by satire. But the world is not to be regulated by their
feelings, and much as I respect them, I have a greater respect
for truth. Every mental weapon is valid against mental error.
And as ridicule has been found the most potent weapon of religious
enfranchisement, we are bound to use it against the wretched
superstitions which cumber the path of progress. Intellectually,
it is as absurd to give quarter as it is absurd to expect it.
"My answer to the Freethinkers who would coquet with Christianity,
and gain a fictitious respectability by courting compliments
from Christian teachers, is that they are playing with fire.
Let them ponder the lessons of history, and remember Clifford's
bitter word about the evil superstition which destroyed one
civilisation and nearly succeeded in destroying another.
Fortunately, however, the logic of things is against them.
Broad currents of thought go on their way without being deflected
by backwashes, or eddies or spurts into blind passages.
Freethought will sweep on with its main volume, and dash against
every impediment with all its effective force."
Well, I exercised "the full liberty of my belief," and I had to take
its "full consequences." Yet, looking back over my year's torture in a
Christian gaol, my conscience approves that dangerous policy, and I do
not experience a single regret.
In the same number of the _Freethinker_ I referred at some length to
Tyler's prosecution, which was dragging along its slow course in a
way that must have been very provoking to Mr. Bradlaugh's enemies. By
dexterous manoeuvring and skilful pleading, that litigious man, as
the Tories call him, had managed to get two counts struck out of our
Indictment. The result of this to Mr. Ramsey and myself was _nil_, but
it brought great relief to Mr. Bradlaugh, and made his acquittal almost
a matter of certainty.
Meanwhile our Christmas Number was selling rapidly. In a few weeks
it had reached a far larger circulation than had been enjoyed by any
Freethought publication before. Naturally the bigots were enraged,
both by its character and its success. Many religious journals, and
especially the _Rock_, clamored for legal protection against such
"blasphemy." Irate Christians called at our shop in Stonecutter Street,
purchased copies of the obnoxious paper, and, flourishing them in the
faces of Mr. Ramsey and Mr. Kemp, declared that we should "hear more of
this;" to which pious salutation they usually replied by offering their
minatory visitors "a dozen or perhaps a quire at trade price." Similar
busybodies called at Mr. Cattell's shop in Fleet Street, and plied him
with cajoleries when menaces were futile. One of them, indeed, attempted
bribery. He offered Mr. Cattell half a sovereign to remove our Christmas
Number from his window. What a wonderful bigot! That detestable
fraternity has nearly always persecuted heresy at other people's
expense, but this man was willing to tax himself for that laudable
object. Surely he is phenomenal enough to deserve a memorial in
Westminster Abbey, or at least an effigy at Madame Tussaud's.
Presently our shop was visited by another class of men--plain-clothes
detectives. They came in couples, and it was easy to understand their
business. We were, therefore, not surprised when, on January 29, 1883,
we were severally served with the following summons:--
"To GEORGE WILLIAM FOOTE, of No. 9 South Crescent, Bedford Square,
Middlesex; WILLIAM JAMES RAMSEY, of No. 28 Stonecutter Street,
in the City of London, and No. 20 Brownlow Street, Dalston,
Middlesex; and HENRY ARTHUR KEMP, of No. 28 Stonecutter Street,
aforesaid, and No. 15 Harp Alley, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.
_Whereas_ you have this day been charged before the undersigned,
the Lord Mayor of the City of London, being one of her Majesty's
Justices of the Peace in and for the said City and the Liberties
thereof, by JAMES MACDONALD, of No. 7 Burton Road, Brixton,
in the county of Surrey, for that you did in the said City
of London, on the 16th day December, in the year of Our Lord,
1882, and on divers other days, print and publish, and cause
and procure to be printed and published, a certain blasphemous
and impious libel in the Christmas Number for 1882 of a certain
newspaper called the _Freethinker_, against the peace of our
Lady the Queen, her crown and Dignity. These are therefore
to command you, in her Majesty's name, to be and appear before
me on Friday, the second day of February, 1883, at eleven of
the clock in the forenoon, at the Mansion House Justice Room,
in the said City, or before such other Justice or Justices of
the Peace for the same City as may then be there, to answer
to the said charge, and to be further dealt with according to
law. Herein fail not. Given under my hand and seal, this
29th day of January, in the year of Our Lord, 1883, at the
Mansion House Justice-Room aforesaid.
"HENRY E. KNIGHT,
"Lord Mayor, London."
The James Macdonald of this summons, who played the part of a common
informer, turned out to be a police officer. In the ordinary way of
business he went to the Lord Mayor, complained of our blasphemy and his
own lacerated feelings, and applied for a summons against us as a first
step towards punishing us for our sins. What a _reductio ad absurdum_
of the Blasphemy Laws! Instead of ordinary Christians protesting against
our outrages, and demanding our restraint in the interest of the peace,
a callous policeman has to do the work, without a scintilla of feeling
about the matter, just as he might proceed against any ordinary criminal
for theft or assault. The real mover in this business was Sir Thomas
Nelson, the City Solicitor, representing the richest and corruptest
Corporation in the world.
The Corporation of the City of London might be described in the language
which Jesus applied to the Town Council of Jerusalem eighteen centuries
ago--"They devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers."
What could be more hypocritical than such a body posing as the champions
of religion, and especially of the religion of Christ! If the Prophet of
Nazareth were alive again to-day, who would expect to find him at a Lord
Mayor's banquet? Would he frequent the Stock Exchange, be at home in
the Guild-hall and the Mansion House, or select his disciples from the
worshippers in the myriad temples of Mammon? Would he not rather hate
and denounce these modern Pharisees as cordially as they would certainly
hate and denounce him?
If the City Fathers meant to protect the honor of God, they were both
absurd and blasphemous. There is something ineffably ludicrous in the
spectacle of a host of fat aldermen rushing out from their shops
and offices to steady the tottering throne of Omnipotence. And what
presumption on the part of these pigmies to undertake a defence of
deity! Surely Omnipotence is as _able_ to punish as Omniscience knows
_when_ to punish. The theologians who, as Matthew Arnold says, talk
familiarly of God, as though he were a man living in the next street,
are modest in comparison with his self-elected body-guard.
Would it not be better for these presumptuous mortals to mind their own
business? It will be time enough for them to supervise their neighbors
when they have reformed themselves. With all their pretensions to
superior piety and virtue, they are notoriously the greatest ring of
public thieves in the world, and they are at present lavishly expending
trust-monies in a desperate endeavor to justify their turpitude and
prolong their plunder.
According to our summons, Mr. Ramsey, Mr. Kemp, and I appeared at the
Mansion House on Friday, February 2, 1883. The Justice Room was thronged
long before the Lord Mayor took his seat on the Bench, and all the
approaches were crowded by anxious sympathisers. All the evidence was of
a purely formal character. It was a foregone conclusion that we should
be committed for trial. We all three pleaded not guilty and reserved
our defence. Before leaving the Court, however, notwithstanding his
lordship's interruption, I protested against the revival of an old law
which had fallen into desuetude, which had not been enforced in the City
of London for over fifty years, and which was altogether alien to the
spirit of the age. My remarks were greeted with loud applause by the
public in Court. Of course his lordship frowned, and the ushers shouted
"Silence!" But the mischief was done. It was obvious that we had
many friends, that we were not going to be tried in a hole-and-corner
fashion.
Our case excited much interest in London. Most of the newspapers
contained a good report of the proceedings at the Mansion House; and
even the Tory _Evening News_, which affirmed that we were three vulgar
blasphemers undeserving of notice, had as the leading line on its
placard "Prosecution of the _Freethinker_: Result!"
The _Freethinker_ for February 11 contained an article from my pen on
the "Infidel Hunt," and a very admirable article by Mr. Wheeler on "The
Fight of Forty Years Ago," narrating the trials of Southwell, Holyoake,
Paterson, and other brave heretics. Mr. Ramsey did not then quite
approve my attitude of defiance, although he has changed his mind since.
He thought it more prudent to bend a little before the storm, instead
of daring its utmost violence. He was also anxious to please those with
whom he had worked before his partial alliance with me, and who were not
prepared to sanction his continued connexion with the _Freethinker_ if
he wished to remain with them. For these reasons he retired from our
partnership, and I was at once registered as the sole proprietor of the
paper. This step naturally added to the danger of my situation, and
it was freely used against me at the trial. But I had no alternative,
unless the _Freethinker_ was to go down, and that I had resolved
to prevent at any cost. At the same time I engaged to take over Mr.
Ramsey's business at Stonecutter Street, and to recoup him for his heavy
investment; and I am bound to admit that he behaved generously in
all these arrangements. On February 11 the following editorial notice
appeared in my paper:
"With this number of the _Freethinker_ I assume a new position.
The full responsibility for everything in connexion with the
paper henceforth rests with me. I am editor, proprietor,
printer and publisher. My imprint will be put on every
publication issued from 28 Stonecutter Street, and all the
business done there will be transacted through me or my
representatives. This exposes me to fresh perils, but it
simplifies matters. Those who attack the _Freethinker_
after this week will have to attack me singly. I never meant
to give in, and never will so long as my strength serves for
the fight. Whoever else yields, I will submit to nothing but
physical compulsion. If the _Freethinker_ should ever cease
to appear, the Freethought party will know that the fault
is not mine. Certain parts of the mechanical process of
production are dependent on the firmness of others. One
man cannot do everything. But I pledge myself to keep
this Freethought flag flying at every hazard, and if I am
temporarily disabled I pledge myself to unfurl it again,
and if need be again, and again. _De l'audace, et encore
de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace._"
Mr. Wheeler stood loyally by me in this emergency. His efforts for
our common object were untiring, and never was his pen wielded more
brilliantly. Perhaps, indeed he overstrained his energies, and thus led
to the complete breakdown of his health soon after my imprisonment.
A few days later Sir Thomas Nelson, the City Solicitor, served a summons
on Mr. H. C. Cattell of 84 Fleet Street, who had so annoyed the bigots
by exposing the Christmas Number of the _Freethinker_ in his window.
Detectives also visited other newsagents and threatened them with
prosecution if they persisted in selling my paper. It was evident that
the City authorities were bent on utterly suppressing it. They tried
their utmost and they failed.