A little later comes this letter of Maria, the younger sister of "Isis".
It was written because of two open letters which appeared in the _Isis_,
the publication of that name. We neither criticise nor defend these
letters, they were no doubt outlined by Carlile in his usual habit of
publicity and with the best of intentions, but there is also no doubt
that they startled and wounded the feelings of the family deeply. In
those days to have your name in the paper was a disgrace, unless under
the heading of Births, Marriages or Deaths.
"1832. Her sister Maria to the Editress of the _Isis_.
"My Dear Eliza,--
"'Isis,' I suppose I am to call you, since you have renounced your
Christian name, and taken one instead which I can find only in the
heathen mythology. I have received both your letters, and indeed in a
form which I should least of all have expected, and least of all wished
for any member of our reputable and respectable, but always retiring
and obscure family. You are the first one that ever had the ambition
to appear before the public, and I must confess that that ambition,
extraordinary as it is, appears under circumstances that raise it above
all suspicion of the influences which are the ordinary incentives to
ambition. It cannot be any ordinary pursuit of riches, nor any very
particular regard to reputation that has placed my sister in a situation
of such peculiar attachment to an individual whom the law of
his country has-placed in a gaol.
"But as I am no philosopher, as you profess to be, and therefore unable
to judge of things (as you would) save as they really are, I am obliged
to confine my judgment to the nature of things as they appear to be, and
as the judgments of society are necessarily governed by appearances, we
surely claim too much from society when we expect its good opinions
and its bestowal of confidence, without paying the compliment of
our attention and regard to appearances. An authority which you ever
respected, and which our dear departed father would have us both to
respect through life, has counselled us: Whatsoever things are pure,
whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if
there is any praise think on these things. And this, I presume, would
have been no counsel to regulate young women's deportment in society,
even though she had come to discover that the faith in which her father
lived in virtue, and died in hope, was a mere being, held bound or tied
fast to a system, a dogma, a ceremony, a discipline. But at the distance
to which you have pleased to remove yourself from us, a distance I fear
greater than miles can measure, we, your religious family, have no means
of judging of your conduct but by report, and it is with an aching heart
that I find that the frightful corroboration of your own report against
yourself. In your first letter, which I read in print in the _Isis_ No.
34, purporting to be edited by a lady, and that lady to be my sister
Eliza, you are pleased to expose to the world what certainly the world
could have as little curiosity to know as I had inclination to discover,
and it is hardly making me amends to publish at the same time the
uncalled for acknowledgment that you were a young woman when I, you say
(and I thank you, madam, for the advertisement), who am calculating on
some early settlement for future life, 'was yet a child'. I am willing
to give you as much honor as you would wish for the advantage you have
over me in the point of age, though there is a sort of heroism in the
extraordinary virtue of a young lady telling the world that she is in
the view of thirty, which other young ladies of the same age would feel
more disposed to admire than to imitate. But that advantage of
quite sufficiently advanced age, on the score of which you are fully
authorised to be the instructress, example, and guide of your sister
at one and twenty, like all other advantages, involves a corresponding
accountability, and gives the world a right to expect and to understand
that a lady of such an age does not play with language with the
unwary simplicity of a 'Miss in her teens', nor bandy sentences of a
construction which may bear meanings to other minds of which her own
was unconscious. The composition of a woman of thirty will never be
interpreted according to the simplicity of a girl of fifteen. In the
stationary and the staid condition in which our father left us, and left
us with his best wishes and prayers that we might continue steadfast
even to the end, you will not wonder that I should have consulted our
minister, the Rev. H. T., in this great calamity, to me, of receiving
two letters in print of such a nature as those in Nos. 34 and 35 of the
_Isis_. I thank you for the admission that our minister (for so he was
once, and I hope he will be again, both yours and mine) is an amiable
man, and that you know he is amiable. Your good opinion of him to that
extent would not have been lessened could you but have witnessed with
what a generosity of soul he received and read the new sort of questions
which a wandering member of his congregation had propounded to him.
A sort of questioning, indeed, from which the character of Mr. T.'s
suggestive influence is written as with a sunbeam. You bid me examines
his motives. Well, my dear sister, well, the advice which you give to me
is transcendently well. It is a wise, a discreet, a becoming caution
in us young women to examine men's motives, especially ere we take them
into such places in our confidence as none but a father could or ought
to be. I have examined his motives, and to do so effectually I took the
plan of doing so rationally, that is, I contented myself with examining
those of his motives which came within my extent of power to examine,
without going beyond my powers to examine, and which could be known to
God only; and as far as humanity, I could find no motive for the advice
I received from him of a less holy character than the motives which
would have governed the counsels of a dying parent. Eliza, our minister
was moved with sorrow for the inferior repute into which your conduct
has brought our respectable family. What could be the corrupt motive for
bringing upon us so much sorrow? For though you might choose to maintain
that your conduct was that of an angel, you could not deny it was of
evil repute, and to have been of a family of good repute and to see
it fallen and cast down into most vile suspicion, and however your
philosophy may enable you to set it at defiance, is to my feelings a
very great calamity. For though you are very clever and have become so
all of a sudden, yet I, your poor sister, feeling only as common people
feel, and thinking only, I confess, as I have been taught to think,
cannot help thinking what would our father have said? Would Eliza have
turned Pagan had he lived? You say that the purity of my mind would
revolt at the first idea of idolatry, as you have done. But how came you
not to revolt at the last idea of idolatry, or having revolted at the
first, to come at last to such a peace with that you first revolted at
as to renounce your Christian name for that of an Egyptian idol; and not
content with taking the name of Isis, to take her character too, and let
all the world see that Isis could do nothing without her Osiris--'her
friend, her comforter, her priest, her saviour and her God'? They are
your own words, my sister, and I pray God to forgive you their import,
whatever it may be. I hope I do not understand them. You ask me in your
first letter 'Will the Rev. Mr. T. bear a 'critical question?' Alack,
my dear Eliza, what is it but my sister's love and duty that hinders her
from putting a critical question to you? But with a sister's love and a
sister's prayer I commend the question to your own bosom, which I long
to press to mine; and I bid you adieu, not in the new-fangled meaning
which no one ever heard of before, but in the sense of its common
acceptance to God. And to God I commend you with the utmost sincerity
of soul, as no fear of infidel rebuke shall ever hinder me from saying,
'through Jesus Christ our Lord '.
"Maria Sharples."
This not unworthy letter of itself throws no discredit on the writer,
but the postscript attached to it carries a sting which undoes the very
good impression the letter itself makes, which in justice to the writer,
as well as to the recipient, is withheld, as it only shows that the
religious ossification of the heart had set in even at the premature age
of 21. Another curious circumstance in regard to this sister's letter
is, that it is in the Rev. Robert Taylor's handwriting. The only
explanation for this is that Isis may have sent it to Carlile, and he
in turn sent it to Taylor, in prison, for his perusal, as their daily
correspondence shows them to be in the habit of doing, i.e. exchanging
everything that may have been of interest at the moment. Taylor must
have copied it, with what object we are at a loss to discover. We find
it in a collection of Taylor's own letters.
We left Carlile and Isis exchanging confidence and making arrangement
for a permanent and mutually satisfactory partnership of marriage as
well as of business. It was not, however, thought wise to make a public
declaration of their union till Carlile's term of imprisonment had
expired.
Richard Carlile to Isis.
"What shall I do to be saved? was never more earnestly felt than a
feeling of mine at present which says: 'what shall I do to restore
happiness to her whom I love and whom I have wounded?' As I began an
intended long letter just now, Mrs. and Miss Henderson came about six
o'clock. They waited until eight for Master Cooper, and left thinking he
would not come. They had not left above a quarter of an hour before
he and his father came. I wish you would come to breakfast with me
to-morrow and have my atonement for the injury I have done you. I cannot
write more to-night as my messenger whistles his visit."
"I did, love, indignantly say to Mr. League, do you think Miss Sharples
is hiding herself? She is at my house, at her own house, indeed. I
told him that his conduct was insolent and unbecoming him, that it was
persecution, of which I had encountered enough to know how to deal with
it, and that I should deal with it; I did not spare him, but treated
him as he was--a low scoundrel. I shall write and tell him that you will
visit me as usual to-morrow, and that he will refuse you admission at
his peril. Mr. Paine and I are friends. I think it was the whispering of
something of the kind that alarmed Mr. Paine and made him uneasy. I am
very hungry waiting for my dinner. You shall have the receipts. I think
you had better print 250 more _Gauntlets_. There is no other way of
increasing the circulation than to meet all demands. This ten pound note
must go to the landlord. I shall have another from Edinburgh in a day
or two. Copeland is gone to the East for me. Cannot David get the paper
from Shelding and Hodges?"
"If you were to complain to me of an insult from Richard, I should
forbid him the house; but, love, I do not think it lessens you, but
think it very much heightens the public view of your standing with me to
see my boys about you. It shows that your ground is moral and good.
If Mrs. Carlile did not feel this, she would never consent to the boys
sleeping there or being there, and there is no more danger of your being
undermined in my love, esteem, affection, and good opinion by any member
of my family than there is of my taking back Mrs-Carlile, than which I
had rather shorten my life. Such are my feelings on the subject, that I
shall never shrink from meeting Mrs. Carlile anywhere in your company,
nor from meeting the boys, nor from proposing to take either of the boys
out with us, or to ask them to dine. In every respect I shall treat you
as if there were no other Mrs. Carlile, and as if you were my lawful as
well as my good wife. I fear nothing about you but your own temper, you
own susceptibilities, which, though in some degree admirable, are very
apt to be carried beyond the verge of reason and justice for the moment.
I will always endeavor to set you a good example to rise above you in
character and temper and goodness if I can. From me you shall never
receive injustice, from no one will I bear it patiently. Now, love, I
pray you, if you have written me any unpleasant letter to throw it in
the fire. It will only spoil my working and make me unhappy. Why should
you do it?
"I consider David France has done wonders for me since he has been
in town, and notwithstanding that I intend much alteration in the
management of the shop-when I come out."
But now a little shadow has fallen between them, but it is a shadow.
Isis is smarting at her exclusion from the gaol, while every other lady
is admitted; she is evidently a little jealous, and has so expressed
herself. One cannot but be impressed at the dignity and firmness of his
reply. Yet how tenderly considerate of her he is. He will not let her
have his reply till morning. He does not wish to spoil her night's rest
or his own.
"I am as chaste towards you in mind and body and thoughts, as the infant
at your breast. Toward you I have been honest and will be honest; but
remember, I am not a man to be trifled with, to be jeered at, nor to be
easily duped. You have seen my promptitude in resenting an insult from
Mr. Taylor, and my resolution in carrying out the resentment. I shall
deal with you precisely the same if you so deal with me. And I am sorry
to say there is a much nearer resemblance between your temperament and
Mr. Taylor's than between yours and mine. You have his weaknesses and
waverings, and much of his impatient, suspicious irascibility, without
his genius and study. Instead of growing in philosophical improvement
you are diverging from it. You do not now act up to the promise of your
Bolton letters. It is no sufficient apology to say you love me too well
to be at ease; I should prefer the love that would allow you to be at
ease. My soul burns with a steady and pure flame of desire to see and
be with you; but I cannot degrade myself so far as to exhibit folly and
madness about it, and to be food for the sport of my enemies; nor do I
upbraid you on account of our separation. This letter has been all my
evening's work, I shall not let it spoil my sleep, and I do not intend
you to have it until the morning. After the apologised error of Saturday
I did not expect another so soon. I feel nothing but love for your love,
and pity for your weakness, and ill-health, and separation from me. The
letter which I began about the husband was intended for a pretty letter,
but the pie (the dinner) came unexpectedly, before I could finish."
In the Preface to the first volume of the_ Isis_ the Editor made the
following statement in relation to the matter; it is her first statement
to the public of their union:--
The Preface to the "Isis" (1st Vol.)
"When a gap was made in the philosophical business of the Rotunda by
the imprisonment of Messrs. Carlile and Taylor, I volunteered the best
assistance I could give to preserve the utility of that establishment.
A stranger to all public business and public men, I came alone from
Lancashire, fortified in my resolve by nothing more than the goodness
of the principles I espoused, and the kind, generous encouragement and
assistance given to me by Mr. Carlile, to whom and with whom, I rejoice
to say, I have since allied myself in matrimonial engagement, and find
no disappointment in the possession of happiness in the third year. I
have seen Messrs. Carlile and Taylor restored to public business, and
under every engagement I felt that my task was complete. If I have
not done all that I might have wished, I have done my best, and should
rejoice the more to see an Englishwoman doing more than I have done. I
am proud in the conviction of having set a good example, somewhat proud
of the success of my effort, but prouder still of the honorable
and useful position which I still fill in the community in aid and
assistance of the true spirit of reform for whatever is corrupt and
wrong. There are those who reproach my marriage; they are scarcely worth
notice, but this I have to say for myself, that nothing could have been
more pure in moral, more free from venality. It was not only a marriage
of two bodies, but a marriage of two congenial spirits, or two minds
reasoned into the same knowledge of true principles, each seeking an
object on which virtuous affection might rest, and grow, and strengthen;
and though we passed over a legal obstacle, it was only because it could
not be removed, and was not in the spirit of a violation of the law, nor
of intended offence or injury to anyone. A marriage more pure and moral
was never formed and continued in England. It is what marriage should
be, though not perhaps altogether what marriage is in the majority of
cases. They who are married equally morally will not find fault with
mine; but where marriage is merely of the law, or for money, and not of
the soul, there I look for abuse. My spirit was wedded to the spirit of
my husband before I had spoken to him. My soul craved him on the love of
good political principle, and for his endurance of its martyrdom through
many years of imprisonment. I have not yet repented. We fairly won the
bequeathed flitch of bacon to a year's happy marriage.* And long may it
continue. We remembered that we were human, and have not fallen into the
error of pledging love for life, hoping in the absence of that pledge to
make it last the longer.
* This giving a flitch or side of bacon to that married
couple who had lived the whole year in harmony together, is
an old English custom, and was religiously carried out in
the village of Enfield, to which Carlile removed his family
immediately after leaving Giltspur Street Compter. Carlile
and Isis, or rather Mr. and Mrs. Carlile, were unanimously
voted to be the happiest married pair in the village, and
entitled to the flitch of bacon. All sorts of sports
prevailed at this festivity, and the whole village turned
out en masse.
"The contents of this volume, in conjunction with my life's career,
I submit to the judgment of all charitable beings. I court not the
judgment of those who have no charity; but I can boldly say I brave and
defy it. I live to please myself, and to serve the cause of virtue and
honesty. Rail who may, I am not to be dismayed or discouraged; praise
who may, my career must still be guided by its principles, rather than
by that praise, though I am neither alien to gratitude, nor do I boast
of being insensible to just approbation. I have intended well, and I am
satisfied, conscientiously satisfied, that whatever I have publicly done
has been well and usefully done, and will not license complaint until
some Englishwoman does better.
"Eliza Sharples Carlile.
"62, Fleet Street, May 29, 1834."
On another occasion Carlile said, in reply to an attack on his marriage
with Isis:--
"On the subject of marriage I have ever been the advocate and the
consistent practicer of monogamy, of the honorable and happy and mutual
attachment of the one man to one woman, the basis of which must not,
cannot be human law, but the divine law of love and affectionate
attachment. Chastity is found in obedience to the divine law, and not
to the human law. I am now living up to this law in the highest sense
in which it can be interpreted, openly, honorably, and with injury to
no one, against which reproach has no power, for which the insect has
no sting nor has venom poison. I have paid the penalty of perpetual
unhappiness, and have still to pay a financial penalty for an error
arising from the ignorance of my youth, and for supposing that the
priest and the law could unite two hearts. Alas! I found that there was
no charm in either the priest or the law to that end, and the experiment
was to me the penalty of seventeen years of misery, hopeless and
irremediable as to law, and which I have only remedied by the force of
moral courage and the sacrifice of whatever property I had accumulated
beyond the brain. As far as means were available, I have honorably
filled out the character of a son, a brother, a husband, a father, a
neighbor, a tradesman, and a citizen. I shrink from no enquiry. All is
now better, all is now settled in my family, and I am not aware that a
single human being regrets the arrangement. The wife of my bosom, the
willing participator in my toils and troubles, is wedded to me in mind,
body, and estate; she strong in her confidence in my honor, I strong in
the confidence of her virtue, and this promises to be a happy marriage
through life. It is so in the third year. It is sufficiently respected
in the metropolis and elsewhere. It is pure in spirit, and _is_ pure.
It conceals neither motive nor purpose. It is open, fair, and honorable,
not intruding itself upon the world's attention, but not shrinking from
the world's scrutiny."