Harriet Martineau
of many doctrines now fully accepted: as that of unconscious
cerebration, or that of more senses than five, for instance; and many
others (based mainly on phrenology and mesmerism) not held, up to the
present time, even by the scientists of his own school. For the rest
the book has much that is interesting; it has much that is true; but
it has, also, much that might well have been put forward as
speculation, but should not have been stated so dogmatically as it was
on the evidence available.[18]
[18] It is right that I should say that I alone am
responsible for the above (necessarily imperfect) digest of
the contents of the book. I at first thought of asking Mr.
Atkinson to do me the favor of reading my account of his work
in proof; but I ultimately concluded that it would be better
that in this instance, as in the case of all Harriet
Martineau's other books, I myself should be wholly
responsible to the public for my own substantial accuracy
and fairness.
It was received in 1851 with a howl from the orthodox press which
would seem strange indeed in these days. But of competent criticism it
had very little. Miss Martineau's name, of course, secured attention
for it; and small though her share in the book was, it was quite
enough to make the fact perfectly clear that she was henceforth to be
looked upon as a "materialist" and a "philosophical atheist," and the
rest of the names by which it was customary to stigmatize any person
who rejected supernaturalism and revelation.
The motives with which this book was written and published could
hardly be misunderstood. There could be no idea of making money out of
a work on philosophy--even if either of the authors had been in the
habit of writing merely to make money; while as to fame and applause,
everyone is more or less acquainted with the history of the reception
given in all ages to those who have questioned the popular beliefs of
their time! The sole motive with which Harriet Martineau wrote and
issued this book was the same that impelled her to do all her
work--the desire to teach that which she believed to be true, and to
be valuable in its influence upon conduct. With regard to the latter
point, it seemed to her that one great cause for the slow advance of
civilization is the degree to which good men and women have occupied
themselves with supernatural concerns, neglecting for these the actual
world, its conditions, and its wants, and giving themselves over to
the guidance of a spiritual hierarchy instead of exercising all their
own powers in freedom. She struck at this error in publishing the
_Letters_. At the same time she felt doubtful if her future writings
would ever be read after her bold utterances, and even, as the
following letter shows, whether she might not find herself the
occupant of a felon's dock for the crime of which Socrates, and Jesus,
and Galileo were each in turn accused--blasphemy:
LETTER TO MR. ATKINSON.
[Extract.]
August 10, 1874.
One thing more is worth saying. Do you remember how, when we were
bringing out our "Letters," I directed your attention to our
Blasphemy Law, and the trial of Moxon, under that law, for
publishing Shelley's "Queen Mab" among his _Poems_? You ridiculed
my statement, and said Mr. Procter[19] denied there being such a
law, or Moxon having been tried, in the face of the fact that I
had corresponded with Moxon on the occasion, on the part of
certain personal friends. The fact appeared afterwards in the
_Annual Register_, but it seemed to produce no effect. Well, now
you can know the truth by looking at the _Life of Denman_, by Sir
Joseph Arnould. If you can lay your hands on the book, please look
at vol. ii. p. 129, where there is an account of the trial, Judge
Denman being the judge who tried the case. The narrative ends
thus:--"The verdict was for the Crown" (conviction for blasphemy),
"but Mr. Moxon was never called up for sentence." It is too late
for Mr. Procter to learn the truth, but it is surely always well
for us, while still engaged in the work of life, to be accurately
informed on such matters as the laws we live under, and our
consequent responsibilities. Is it not so?
[19] "Barry Cornwall."
It was, then, with the full anticipation, not only of social obloquy,
but also of legal penalty, that the brave thinker fulfilled (to quote
her own words in the preface to the _Letters_) "that great social
duty, to impart what we believe, and what we think we have learned.
Among the few things of which we can pronounce ourselves certain is
the obligation of inquirers after truth to communicate what they
obtain." The heroic soul fulfilled now, as before and afterwards, what
she held to be her duty, as simply and unwaveringly as ever a soldier
on the battlefield charged the cannon's mouth.
Five times in her life did Harriet Martineau write and publish that
which she believed would ruin her prospects, silence her voice for
ever, and close her career. Far from her was that common paltering
with the conscience by which so many men confuse their minds--the poor
pretence that truth must not be spoken for fear that the speaker's
influence for future worthy work may be injured by his boldness. This
is how the devil tempts, saying, "Fall down, and worship me, and I
will give thee all the kingdoms of the earth and the glory of them."
Harriet Martineau never worshipped evil even by silence, when silence
was sin, playing fast and loose with her conscience by a promise to
use the power so obtained for higher objects hereafter. The truth that
appeared to her mind she spoke frankly; the work that was placed for
her to do she did simply; and so the quagmire of the expedient never
engulfed her reputation, her self-respect and her usefulness, as it
has done that of so many who have been lured into it from the straight
path of right action and truthful speech in public life, by
will-o'-the-wisp hopes of greater power and glory for themselves in
the future--which they hope they may use for good when they shall be
smothered in cowardice and lies. She had much to suffer, and did
suffer. Martyrs are not honored because they are insensate, but
because they defy their natural human weaknesses in maintaining that
which they believe to be true. Probably the keenest grief which she
experienced on the occasion now before us came from the complete
separation which took place between her and the dearest friend of her
youth, her brother James. Dr. Martineau was, at that time, one of the
editors of the _Prospective Review_. Philosophy was his department,
and in the natural order the _Letters_ came to him for review. He
reviewed the book accordingly and in such terms that all intercourse
between him and his sister was thenceforward at an end. They had long
before drifted apart in thought; but this final separation was none
the less felt as a wrench. Dr. Martineau's attack was almost
exclusively aimed against Mr. Atkinson. But with Harriet's loyalty of
nature she was more impelled to resent what was said about her friend
and colleague than if it had been directed against herself. The
brother and sister never met or communicated with each other again.
The introductory volume of the _History of the Peace_ was published
soon after the Atkinson _Letters_. The next work which she undertook
was a great labor--the rendering into English of Comte's _Positive
Philosophy_.
What she accomplished with this book was not a mere translation, nor
could it be precisely described as a condensation; it was both these
and more. Comte had propounded his groundwork of philosophy and his
outline of all the sciences in six bulky volumes, full of repetitions,
and written in an imperfect French style. Harriet Martineau rendered
the whole substance of these six volumes into two of clear English,
orderly, consecutive, and scientific in method as in substance. So
well was her work accomplished that Comte himself adopted it for his
students' use, removing from his list of books for Positivists his own
edition of his course, and recommending instead the English version by
Miss Martineau. It thus by-and-bye came to pass that Comte's own work
fell entirely out of use, and his complete teachings became
inaccessible to the French people in their own tongue; so that twenty
years afterwards, when one of his disciples wished to call public
attention to the master's work as teaching the method of social
science by which the French nation must find its way back to
prosperity after the great war, he was constrained to ask Harriet
Martineau's permission to re-translate her version.
Comte wrote her the warmest expressions of his gratitude; but this he
owed her on another ground besides the one of the value of her labors
in popularizing his work so ably. While she was laboring at her task,
Mr. Lombe, then High Sheriff of Norfolk, sent her a cheque for L500,
which he begged her to accept, since she was doing a work which he had
long desired to see accomplished, but which he knew could not possibly
be remunerative to her. She accepted the money, but with her customary
generosity in pecuniary affairs, she employed more than half of it in
paying the whole expenses of publication, and arranged that the
proceeds of the sale, whatever they might be, should be shared with M.
Comte.
There was a considerable demand for the work on its first appearance;
and up to this present date a fair number of copies is annually
disposed of. It came out in November, 1853, having partly occupied her
time during the preceding two years. Only partly, however; for,
besides all the efforts for her neighborhood previously referred to
(the building society was in progress during those years, and gave her
much thought, as her business notes are in evidence), and besides her
farming, she was now writing largely for periodicals and newspapers.
These are the pulpits from which our modern preachers are most widely
and effectively heard, and the right tone of which is, therefore, of
the first consequence to society. For every hundred persons who listen
to the priest, the journalist (including in this term writers for all
periodicals) speaks to a thousand; and while the words of the one are
often heard merely as a formality, those of the other, dealing with
the matters at the moment most near and interesting to his audience,
may effectively influence the thoughts and consciences and actions of
thousands in the near future. Shallow, indeed, would be the mind which
undervalued the power of the journalist, or underrated the seriousness
of his vocation.
Harriet Martineau saw the scope which journalism afforded for the kind
of work which she had all her life been doing--the influencing of
conduct by considering practical affairs in the light of principle.
Her periodical writing being, according to our mistaken English
custom, anonymous, neither brought her any increase of fame nor
carried with it the influence which her personality as a teacher would
have contributed to the weight of what she wrote. Nevertheless, she
repeatedly in her letters, speaks of her journalism as the most
delightful work of her life, and that which she believed had been
perhaps the most useful of all her efforts.
Some stories with sanitary morals, which she now contributed to
_Household Words_, were admirably written. "The People of Bleaburn" is
the true story of what was done by a grand American woman, Mary Ware,
when she happened to go into an isolated village at the very time
that half its inhabitants were lying stricken down by an epidemic.
"Woodruffe, the Gardener," was a presentation of the evils of living