He will be goaded to prosecution, though Owen has sent round circulars advising his followers to drop theology. They have nothing else to talk about. I am glad the life of Frost is saved; but I wished to see the Chartists put upon their mettle, if they have any, for I doubt if they have. They are quite down in London. Socialism is the only thing that lives here, and that must go down. It has no living principle."

"Enfield, February 26th, 1840.

"The office I was seeking in London was a place in a good situation for business. They who could or would help me to an official situation are afraid of my name. Heywood, of Manchester, I hear, is prosecuted for Haslam's letters; he cries out and says he would rather give 50 and the stock of publication than stand the prosecution. We shall see what sort of martyrs they make. I cannot tell you my secret yet I pa.s.s _incog_, as a man of respected and admired talent; you shall see the proofs of this some day. I fear that I have lost two papers, merely by the knowledge of my handwriting.

It is a case, too, where an amanuensis or copyist cannot be trusted. I have sketched a pet.i.tion to the House of Lords, if an outcome be found to present it, stating that as the Church is founded upon Jewish history, the way to establish it well is to correct the current errors of that history, return to the original Jewish philosophy, and remove all the heresies of the last eighteen hundred years. I ask the Lords to make the Lords Spiritual a Committee of Enquiry on this subject so interesting to all nations. The Ham Common School (Bronson Alcott's) is a failure. There was nothing generous in it, save that my Gloucestershire friends paid the expenses. I have sadly lost by it in my income. It has from beginning to end been a bad project. In all your preparations for heaven, I hope all your family will find it. I have great need of a warmer climate, but unless I am transported for treason, do not know how I shall ever get there. When the sun is out I am alive, when not I am dead.

"Most of the reformers or pretended reformers that I have known have been flighty men, flying about after everything without solidity to rest on, and accomplish anything. They are, as such, too often deficient in moral character."

"Enfield, March 11th, 1840.

"I see by the _Times_ yesterday that memorials are being sent to the Protestant monarchs to combine and send the Jews back to Palestine at this struggle for Syria between the Sultan and the Pasha. Would the Jews go back? that is the question. No! they know better. They are commercial men and could have very little commerce in Palestine. I never knew an unemployed Jew living retired without business. I am now writing leaders for the country papers of Liberal principles. I find I am so far master of all political and theological subjects that I could write-equally well for any party and please them all in turn. I find, too, that there is much good to be done in this way.

All that is required is to support the cues and bent of the paper and party, and you may introduce any good sentiments under that guise. I got a famous letter on blasphemy into the Cheltenham _Free Press_, of February 29th, signed 'Christian'. The editor wondered how a Christian could write so. My politics never consisted of property burning or the a.s.sa.s.sinating of innocent people, nor did yours; and I would willingly give evidence against any such cases, to serve better political principles."

"July 9th, 1840.

"Cogswell's imprisonment was fully reported in the _Gauntlet_. I supported his family. His wife died during the prosecution, for she too was prosecuted. He afterwards married her sister, who came to look after the children. I have found him a very grateful, honest fellow. I feel content with myself in not having joined either the Socialists or the Chartists. There will be something better coming up by and by."

"Enfield, August 6th, 1840.

"I had not heard of the death of Abner Kneeland, and I have reason to think he is still living in Boston, U.S."

"October 13th, 1840.

"I made a declaration last Sunday that there was a mistake between me and the public, that I had not recanted a sentence I ever published, but had only gone on another tack in my warfare with superst.i.tion. When I box up the G.o.ds in the human head as I do, making it the heaven, the earth, the garden of Eden, the ark, the tabernacle, the temple, depend upon it, I will not let them roam abroad in the physical world for superst.i.tious mischief.

"I would be bound to bother Acland, though I confess he is on his best ground. I had a fine triumph over him about the Poor Laws, in the Bolton Theatre, and never before nor since did I hear the phrase of 'Three cheers for Carlile'."

"November 13th, 1840.

"I have been rolling restlessly on the bed all this week since my return from London on Sunday, incapable of lying still any way for a quarter of an hour at a time, with a high (more than usual) inflammation of the chest. This is my first salute for the winter. I am now worse on Friday than on Monday, and have some fear that I shall not be able to go out soul saving on Sunday next. I shall go if there be a possibility to stand up and talk. I find that I have reached a point in my ever sanguine calculation, and that is that the time has come in which I can excite more interest in London than any of the Socialist or Chartist leaders. I have restored a lost audience to the Hall of Science, and have drawn well there; moreover, I have pleased. Have sold my books freely, and have brought home about 5 in four weeks, which is a welcome addition to my slender income. I work now on Sunday afternoons, as I have no evening vacancy. I am enquiring for a place of my own--but my health!"

"Enfield, March 17th, 1841.

"You would have been delighted on Sunday, the 27th, I had a Brindly-like opponent, who, however, could but regret that such splendid talent as he had to his astonishment witnessed that evening should be prost.i.tuted to so bad a purpose; and yet he talked himself quite round to me; paid me high compliments, and came to shake hands warmly. Owen, I hear, is veering round to some new point about colonisation, and offending his community party. Sir H. R. Inglis brought up my name in the House of Commons last Friday in the question of Jewish Emanc.i.p.ation. He wanted to know how a Jewish alderman could have met me? I immediately drew up a pet.i.tion of my whole case, briefly as possible, praying for two things: examination on the question of ancient Jewish history, and compensation for damage and merit as soon as the Jews are introduced among the legal authorities of the country. Peel moves well in the item of scientific schools. I have told him this week that he has only to move into the Church with them to be all right. I will send your books with Baraclory's parcel. I may keep out one for my very good friend Charles Roach Smith, the chemist, of 5, Liverpool Street, City, who came out enthusiastically to lecture at the Rotunda when Mr. Taylor was sent to Horsemonger Lane Gaol. Mr. Smith is a young man much respected among the antiquarians. His papers are read in the Antiquarian Society, consisting of bishops and all sorts; and lately the Marquis of Northampton sent him a card of admission to his soiree as President of the Royal Society; so we swim. I feel myself growing daily in public interest, though the money does not flow in yet. My pa.s.sion for doing public good is as strong as ever; it is tempered a little with the discretion of experience. I am now a regular correspondent of the _Bolton Free Press_; my signature is--'A Reformer of the People.'"

CHAPTER VI. CARLILE'S LAST YEARS

Here are two letters of much later date, and the last we have of his to Isis, except the one dated the 7th of December, 1842, with which we commenced the story of his life. By this time Carlile and Isis have come to the settled stage of ordinary married people.

"Richard Carlile to Elizabeth Sharples Carlile, Julian Carlile, and Hypatia Carlile.*

* Julian and Hypatia Carlile. Theophila was not born at that time.

"Loves,--To you, Mrs. Carlile, I know I shall be worth all the more and be all the more lovely as I can earn money, though I grant that you have borne the want of it much better than I might have expected. I hope that I am beginning to turn over the new leaf, but I will not again _talk_ about making the hit I have been so long talking about. But I will tell you what I have so far done in Brighton. I have not made one unpleasant step. Beyond the detervation of Mr. Colbatch, I have not encountered one public reproach. You will have seen the letters in the two papers.

I wish you to send the papers to your mother, as I shall reprint the letters and syllabus of lectures in a small pamphlet. I found here two of the Owenites whom I knew, a Mr. Wood and a Mr. Stonie. They have been very active and very generous. Mr. Wood wished me to take my meals altogether at his house. He has raised a subscription of several pounds to pay all my expenses of advertis.e.m.e.nt. Another friend has given me the free use of the best, and best situated lecturing rooms I have had out of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. It is a large new-built shop on the ground-floor of one of the most respectable streets, without any house over it. It makes a room fully as large as that of Shipyard, and quite as good in appearance, with everything that is desirable for entrance and convenience, save a little ante-room for the lecturer, so that I am now set in for a fair trial of my powers in Brighton. I have had but one dissenting minister visit me this (Monday) morning, who has gone off to read the Bill and consider the subject. My letters have produced the same effect here as my pamphlet did in Plymouth. I have not heard of any pulpit abuse. I was stopped in writing the above through a number of visitors, and shall not now get you off this on Monday evening. I must do so to-morrow evening, because when I set in for lecturing twice a day I shall be very busy. However, if I send you some money, you will excuse me in much writing.

"_Tuesday noon_.--Everything promises well. My bills are read with great curiosity and avidity, and without reproach. Depend on it, I have at last hit the right ground of procedure. The fanatics cannot abuse me on this ground. If ever a man was worthy of support in going through a country as a public teacher, I feel that I am. I have not heard from you since I have been here. I shall have to buy a Bible to-morrow morning.

You may send in by Richley, to be booked in Gracechurch Street, a parcel containing the small Bible. I do not recollect its being at home. I should like the two volumes of Greek and English Testament, and the American book by Fellows on 'The Exposition of the Ancient Mysteries and Freemasonry'. I first sent you a parcel, then a letter to Mr. Vickery, and two newspapers. The newspaper published to-day has nothing new but my advertis.e.m.e.nt. I had a letter in the _Gazette_ and another in the _Herald_, both of which I hope you have seen.

Kiss me Julian and Hypatia. I hope they will keep in good health, and I have not a doubt but that by the time they can judge and think of the thing, they will see and hear me before large, respectable, and approving audiences; so as to make them proud of the name of Carlile. My heart's desire is that they hear you, too, before approving audiences. I have had no preachers visit me this morning, but I had three yesterday.

You might have seen a paragraph in one of the Brighton papers stating that the quondam Miss Wright has been mobbed in Philadelphia for meddling with the banking system. I am glad to see her in America again."

"Richard Carlile to Elizabeth Sharples Carlile.

"Love,--I am exceedingly sorry that you have not kept clear of a quarrel with Mr. Vickery--you ought to have done this, say what he would. His age should atone for a thousand faults, and above all things, I think you should not have said anything to him about his son. As to who visits him in company with his son, it is his business, and not yours and mine to enquire; but as to who shall take up a lodging in my house, it is my business to decide, and I decide that no 'Aurelia' shall sleep under that roof with my consent, and certainly not at all if I were there.

Ours is a marriage unlicensed by the priest, but I know of nothing disreputable in it, or I could never have tolerated it for an hour. But where there are avowedly two husbands to one wife all living together, there must be something so base, mean, filthy, and dastardly in all three, as to make them a disgrace to society, and I do feel disgraced in having either of them put a foot in my house. Poor Julian, when I see the children here drawn about the town and seaside in a little carriage by a goat, I wish I had him here. I do not wish to see him a milksop boy, afraid of everything and everybody about him. But then, let Mr.

Vickery's age be an apology, he is past reproof and if he cannot be happy with us and the children, we can part with him, but we cannot part with the children. I soberly and seriously think you have been wrong altogether in your carriage to Moses, and it is the fault of you very lively, sprightly people, that there is no happy medium with you; but that you are always in extremes; sometimes too gay for sober observation, sometimes too sad even to be worth pitying. But it is no use, where there is no pursuit of knowledge, what is in the bone will not come through the flesh. I wish you to come to Brighton, not that I want you for money taking, because I think you are out of place there; but I am absolutely keeping a shop with what books I have. I sold an _Isis_ for 20s. this morning, and a 'Volney' and other things. I found I could not do without somebody, so I sent for Tom Paine. We are lodging at 8s. a week for two bedrooms. My bed is a large one. We breakfast and tea at the lodging, and we have a standing pressed invitation to every day's dinner with Mr. Woods, the co-operative. Our expenses are small, certainly within 25s. a week. You would add but little if you would be content with where I am. It is a decent house in a good street, and near my lecture room. I am really set in for business here. I should mention that we could not dine in the house, and that would be awkward. But I will take another lodging after you come. I will never consent to be saddled with any person's housekeeping at Enfield Highway but that which you shall appoint. I could be satisfied with the washerwoman's mother if she were disengaged; or if Ann Collis could spare sufficient time from her school to attend to Mr. Vickery--I do not mean in school hours, but after. My present prospect is that I am likely to stay at Brighton some time. I cannot now say how long. I will come up for you any day after Wednesday if you write for me. But I wish Hypatia and Julian to be with some careful person if you leave them. I shall send you as many pounds as I have with this. I have paid 2 17s. 6d. for printing bills, cards, and advertis.e.m.e.nts. If you send a parcel and there is only fourpence and twopence booking between a letter and parcel, send two volumes of _Isis_ and a bundle of the letter to Peel. I think I could sell some of the numbers of _Isis_ from 12 to 22, as far as you find them folded.

Brighton has never had anything of mine. I am a new man among them. I have picked up a volume that has some of the first tracts I ever wrote, which you have not seen and which will amuse you. You'll say that they are better than the last. I wrote to the High Constable of Brighton to say that I should address the public on the Steyne to-morrow, Sunday; he has just called upon me to say the magistrates have expressed their disapprobation of my attempt and will send a reporter; but I learned from him that if nothing unfavorable was reported, nothing would follow.

It happened that the High Constable of the town dined at the City of London Tavern in 1826, to celebrate on Paine's birthday my liberation from Dorchester Gaol. He is a right sort of man. I shall want an answer to this immediately, to be sure it gets to you safe. I think I may calculate on picking up for books and lecturing a couple of pounds per day here for some time. I was uneasy until I heard from you and not easy after. Mrs. Cooper and Elizabeth and your Daniel are here. I called there yesterday, and she was threatening to 'hide' Elizabeth because she did not speak French to a French waiter in the house who cannot speak English. The woman is to be pitied, and the girl much more so. I particularly want as another book for reference one that lately came from America called 'The Phoenix'. It was lent to Mrs. Guiver, but she returned it. I have received the others all safe. I shall send a few things to wash to make a parcel. I intend to get this off by the mail on Sat.u.r.day with a hope that you will get it on Sunday morning by Guiver.

Be a good girl and have no more quarrelling with anybody. I do not intend to quarrel with any person hereafter, I see it wiser not to do so.

The newspapers this week have said nothing about me, save my advertis.e.m.e.nts. I am selling books very well. By Michaelmas I hope to have money for rent at Enfield and Shipyard, besides many other things.

A surgeon has bought the 'Diegesis', and tendered me half a sovereign to give him a private lecture to-morrow evening. I am afraid I shall be too busy money-making to pay you much attention when you come. Send down a parcel--a 'Volney's Ruins' in boards, on the shelf at the top of the stairs. I send you four pounds, which is all I have. I have cleared all expenses except a printer's bill for work just done. Write by return of post, or send a parcel by first coach. Kiss me Julian and Hypatia. I salute you with a holy kiss; but you are not quite a Christian yet."

Late in the year of 1842 Isis went to visit relatives in Torquay, her health was not of the best, and a change of air and scene became necessary to its restoration. Carlile's eldest sister came from Devonshire to keep house for the family during her absence. She spent the holidays there and was greatly improved in health and spirits, and had already written that she would soon return, being much improved by the change. In the meantime Carlile had decided that if he would do business with any kind of satisfaction, he would have to go to London to do it, even if he had to imprison himself in his bedroom during the winter months. The lease of the Enfield cottage having run out, he decided to move to London in preference to renewing the Enfield lease, and he arranged to move before Isis returned, and so surprise her, and at the same time relieve her of all the care and trouble of the change.

He had an interest in the premises No. 1 Bouverie Street, corner of Fleet Street. His son Alfred having the management of a book store there in his father's name. Carlile knew the danger of the London winter in his own case, but November and December having pa.s.sed and January nearly so, he thought that he would be able to hold out till the spring, which was then close at hand; and so he might have done, but that the exertion of moving was too much for him, and combined with the horrors of asthma and a great fright which he received by the temporary loss of his little son Julian, which caused him much apprehension and fatigue. He was so exhausted by all these circ.u.mstances that in a letter to Turton we find him complaining of a bad night's rest, of tossing about all night, of being unable to get warm, etc., always, however, looking forward to being better in a few days, always hopeful and cheery to the last.

Unfortunately, he did not get better, and it was soon seen by the family, all except Isis, who was still in Torquay, that Carlile had only returned to Fleet Street to die. To die on the old ground, where for twenty-seven years he had waged such a stern fight against tyranny and injustice. But where could a place be found that was more fitting than this for the death of the hero of a hundred fights, the battlefield itself? And there is a satisfaction, a meagre one, 'tis true, in the thought that he died in Fleet Street, where his great conflict was carried on for a period of twenty-seven years.

In the meantime poor Isis, in happy ignorance of all these things, was enjoying herself at the home of Henry Halse, one of the first discoverers of animal magnetism or mesmerism, and she proved a most agreeable subject for his experiments, was frequently put into a mesmeric state, and was very useful in diagnosing cases for Mr. Halse, who was utilising the new science in the cause of health. One morning he had placed her under the influence as usual, but she was so troubled and disturbed, and seemed to be suffering so much mental anxiety that Mr.

Halse hastened to release her from the condition. On awakening, her sole thought was of London. "I must go to London at once," she cried, "I am needed in London, there is trouble there, I must go at once." Her friends tried to calm her, and said they would send to London and find out anything that might be taking place there; all to no purpose, they could not stay her for a moment. Her preparations were made in a very short time, and the first conveyance taken that could be had. Arrived in London, she went straight to No. 1, Bouverie Street, to learn if there was anything wrong at Enfield, only to find the whole household there, Enfield a thing of the past, and her beloved husband lying on what was to prove his death bed. She was in time only to be recognised and to a.s.sist in nursing him. The shock must have been terrible to her, from happiness to misery in a day. A few days of hope, of fearing, of watching with ceaseless anxiety, and all was over. As it neared the end Carlile roused himself from apparent unconsciousness, and with almost a superhuman effort said, with the greatest difficulty to those around him, "I am the same man I have always been, I have gone neither to the right nor to the left. My aim has been to accomplish one great purpose."

This expression was uttered by a powerful effort of nature, and was the last that ever issued from his lips.

CHAPTER VII. THE LAST DAYS OF ISIS

After the death of Carlile, and as soon as Isis had recovered somewhat from the shock, she went to visit awhile with the Ebworth ladies, taking her two daughters with her, a home being found for the little boy Julian at Harmony Hall, Robert Owen's school. Carlile having died intestate, his eldest son, Richard, succeeded to the business and stock of books, etc., as also a few months afterwards to the annuity, while Isis had only the furniture and personal property. She was thus left totally unprovided for. The sum of 200 a year which had been promised to her by the hitherto generous friends, and upon which Carlile relied, was not forthcoming, and Isis was left perfectly helpless, with three children under ten years of age to be fed, clothed and educated. In a few weeks she was given charge of the sewing room of the "Concordium", as Alcott House was named, where she for some months supported herself and her little daughters, Hypatia and Theophila; but the health of the former giving way she was removed to Charing Cross Hospital. Isis did not remain very many months at Alcott House, but having a small legacy left her by an aunt she removed to London, and taking a large house she furnished apartments. In this way and with the help of some generous friends she managed to keep her little family together. She devoted herself to their care and education, and being an expert needlewoman she always kept them and herself well and comfortably dressed. Being still young and very attractive she had many admirers and would-be lovers, and, as might be expected, many offers of marriage. Such offers had no attraction for her, but rather troubled her than anything else. Her children had some amusing stories to tell of baffled lovers and rejected proposals. Her beauty became rather an annoyance than a pleasure to her, because of the notice and attention it caused her. She seldom went out, and when she did she was always thickly veiled; yet her form and carriage drew the same attention.

Isis struggled along for six or seven years, devoting herself to the care and education of her children, turning every stone to advance them in their studies; in this she was ably a.s.sisted by one or two faithful friends. A literary and scientific inst.i.tute was established at the back of the Warner Street Temperance Hall. A fine lecture room was built and cla.s.ses of all kinds inaugurated, a debating society formed, and quite a respectable library got together. This promised well at first, and probably would have been successful in other hands, that is, the hands of some experienced business man or woman; but as the manager of the details of such an establishment, Isis was out of place, and acknowledged it. She could grace a rostrum, but failed completely as a "server of coffee". To this place came many respectable young men, and quite a good membership rolled up, and it was in every respect a fitting and a proper place for the youth of both s.e.xes, as educational and moral pursuits (with the relaxation of singing and dancing) only were countenanced.

Among the young men who were attracted by the lectures and debates to this inst.i.tution was Charles Bradlaugh. He was known as the "Boy Preacher". He was a tall, well-developed youth, and was understood to be studying for the ministry, though he was at that time in the office of Green, Son and Jones, coal dealers, in London. It was understood that he was devoting his leisure hours to the necessary preparatory reading before going to a college or school to complete the course. It so happened that the subject for discussion on one particular week was the then comparatively new one of "Is there a G.o.d". There were several names enrolled on the books as taking part in this discussion, both for and against, and some were practised debaters. With something of the spirit of the old chivalric knights, Bradlaugh enrolled himself in the lists to fight for the affirmative side of the question. Not doubting for a moment but that he would be victorious, unluckily for him he had read only his own side of the question, and found himself _hors de combat_ at the close of the first night. His opponent, who had been over the ground many times before, knew all the arguments that were likely to be advanced on either side, and thus had a great advantage over young Bradlaugh, who, though clever and intrepid, was very vulnerable to his older and more experienced adversary. The debate lasted three nights.

The first night he, Bradlaugh, was thrown; the second night he was vanquished, and the third night he confessed himself completely conquered and threw up his case. But mark the consequence! One morning Julian Carlile, going on the street quite early, met Charles Bradlaugh, who told him that on going home the night before he found the door locked against him. His father speaking to him from a window, bade him never to enter his house again, and denied to his son even a change of linen. He had walked the street all night. On hearing this story from the lips of her son, Isis immediately sent for him, and after a long conference it was decided that he should make his home at the Inst.i.tution, 1, Warner Place, Hackney Road, sharing the room of Julian, which they did for some time as though they were brothers; and indeed they looked considerably alike, both being of large build, fair complexioned, though Charles was considerably older. But in a few days or weeks he lost his position with the firm, his father withdrawing his security and telling the firm that his son had fallen into bad company.

Nor did it rest there; the young man secured more than one position, only to lose it through the misrepresentation of this unnatural father.

We know that this has been denied, but it is nevertheless strictly true, and the whole circ.u.mstance is as vivid in the mind of the writer (who was then a good-sized girl), as if it were a tale of yesterday; besides there are others living who can corroborate this statement. Bradlaugh then made himself as useful as possible in the Inst.i.tution as librarian, lecturer, etc., and was to Isis as another son. It was very pleasant to hear him say a few years before his death that he owed all he was or became to her, for had she not counselled him and advised and guided him at that most trying period of his life as she did, he would have been desperate and probably done some rash thing which would have wrecked his life. It was soon after this that the health of Isis began to fail, and though change of scene and circ.u.mstances was tried, and some eminent physicians consulted, she was seen to be gradually but steadily losing ground. She had left the Inst.i.tution by this time and had taken apartments in a very quiet place where there was a nice garden, and where she could have a room on the ground floor, which afforded easy access to the garden, and also a fine view of it from the bed upon which she was beginning to rest longer and longer each succeeding day. Doctors came and looked at her and shook their heads, and spoke outside of the room of her mind and heart, and that it was not a sickness of the body; no-medicine could reach the case. One more sympathetic than the rest suggested her native air, whereupon a kind friend wrote to the mother of Isis, telling what the doctor had said, and asking if they would receive her and let her come to them for a little while; and this was the answer--"As she has made her bed so she must lie". This was the last stroke. In a few days she pa.s.sed away quietly in her sleep without suffering, indeed she had suffered very little pain during the whole of her illness, just a gradual wasting away of the body. No death could be more peaceful--

"We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died".

The only witness to her pa.s.sing away was the same little girl of whom the reader has read, now grown larger, but still only a girl.

CHAPTER VIII. MEMORIES