if the reader is curious to know what really were the opinions of these two distinguished offenders (h. martineau and h. g. atkinson), i recite them. in the book dr. martineau reviewed, mr. atkinson said:—

"i am far from being an atheist i do not say there is no god, but that it is extravagant and irreverent to imagine that cause a person."

miss martineau herself writes in the same series of letters:—

"there is no theory of a god, of an author of nature, of an origin of the universe, which is not utterly repugnant to my faculties; which is not (to my feelings) so irreverent as to make me blush; so misleading as to make me mourn."

yet dr. martineau wrote of his sister and her friend in terms which seemed, to the public, of studied insult and disparagement, which, in educated society, would be called brutal. it was merely spiritual malignity, of which i had in former years sufficient experience to render me a connoisseur in it.

all the while dr. martineau had heresies of his own to answer for, yet he wrote words of his sister which no woman of self-respect could condone, unless withdrawn. during her long illness of twenty years dr. martineau, her brother, never wrote to her nor addressed one word of sympathy to one who had loved him so well. he had told the world that the "subtle, all-penetrating spirit of christ has an inspiring nobleness philosophy cannot reach, nor science, nor nature impart." then how came dr. martineau to miss it? the nobleness of mind of his illustrious sister all the world knew—before the world knew him—and mr. atkinson was a gentleman of as pure a life and of as good a position in society as dr. martineau himself. o theology, into what crookedness dost thou twist the straightest minds! i have seen in a "life of dr. martineau" that professor newman assented to what dr. martineau wrote of his sister. this fact i ought not to withhold from the reader.

but mr. newman only knew what dr. martineau told him.

mr. atkinson was the son of a london architect who left him an income which enabled him to devote himself to philosophy, which was his taste. he was personally conversant, as visitor or guest, with a wide range of distinguished thinkers and writers of his time. he was full of curious knowledge and notable sayings gathered in that opportune intercourse. with a mind devoid of prejudice, he looked on scientific discoveries as a veteran and seasoned spectator. no new idea surprised him, no expression of thoughtful opinion awakened in him resentment. he cared only for truth, in whatever form or quarter it appeared. he had none of the indifference of the arm-chair philosopher, but aided struggling opinion to assert itself. once i was his guest in boulogne. to my surprise i was the only passenger in the packet boat the quay of boulogne was deserted. at hughes's hotel i was the only guest in the dining-room. on inquiring the reason, i learned that gilbert a'beckett had died a few days before of diphtheria, and that douglas jerrold had left for england since. mr. atkinson, not expecting me, had gone for a day's sea trip to calais. on his return we spent pleasant hours at a cafe. he had no idea of leaving the hotel where he had rooms. some years later mr. atkinson died in boulogne, where he had resided many years. personally he was tall, of good presence and refined manners. he was clean shaven, and might be taken for an evangelical bishop. save a mobile expression, his face was as shadowless as one of holbein's portraits. the object of his letters to miss martineau was to ascertain if there could be found a real basis of a science of mind. the common idea in those days was that mind was a "vital spark" which shone at will—originating without conditions—acting of its own caprice and obeying no law. only the theological spirit could see harm in this investigation.

not only fidelity, but chivalry towards her friends was a characteristic of miss martineau. when w. j. linton, for whom i had great regard, as appears in what i have written of him in the "warpath of opinion," had become vindictive—because i had obtained 9,000 shillings for european freedom from readers of the reasoner at the request of mazzini, mr. linton—equally desirous and equally devoted, had not succeeded—wrote to the liberator of new york, edited by lloyd garrison, assailing me politically and personally, whereupon miss martineau sent to the liberator the following generous letter—which, though it be counted egotism in me to cite, i accept the risk, since such friendship was without parallel in my experience:—

"dear sir,—i see with much surprise and more concern an attack in your paper upon the character of mr. g. j. holyoake, signed by mr. w. j. linton. i could have wished, with others of your readers, that you had waited for some evidence, or other testimony, before committing your most respected paper to an attack on such a man from such a quarter. of mr. linton it is not necessary for me to say anything, because what i say of mr. holyoake will sufficiently show what i think of his testimony.

"i wish i could give you an idea of the absurdity that it appears to us in this country to charge mr. holyoake with sneaking, with desiring to conceal his opinions, and get rid of the word 'atheism.' his whole life, since he grew up, has been one of public advocacy of the principles he holds, of weekly publication of them under his own signature, and of constant lecturing in public places. one would think that a man who has been tried and imprisoned for atheism, and has ever since continued to publish the opinions which brought him into that position, might be secure, if any man might, from the charge of sneaking. the adoption of the term secularism is justified by its including a large number of persons who are not atheists, and uniting them for action which has secularism for its object, and not atheism. on this ground, and because by the adoption of a new term a vast amount of impediment from prejudice is got rid of, the use of the name secularism is found advantageous; but it in no way interferes with mr. holyoake's profession of his own unaltered views on the subject of a first cause. as i am writing this letter, i may just say for myself that i constantly and eagerly read mr. holyoake's writings, though many of them are on subjects—or occupied with stages of subjects—that would not otherwise detain me, because i find myself always morally the better for the influence of the noble spirit of the man, for the calm courage, the composed temper, the genuine liberality, and unintermitting justice with which he treats all manner of persons, incidents, and topics. i certainly consider the conspicuous example of mr. holyoake's kind of heroism to be one of our popular educational advantages at this time.

"you have printed mr. linton's account of mr. holyoake. i request you to print mine. i send it simply as an act of justice. my own acquaintance with mr. holyoake is on the ground of his public usefulness, based on his private virtues; and i can have no other reason for vindicating him than a desire that a cruel wrong should be as far as possible undone. and i do it myself because i am known to your readers as an abolitionist of sufficiently long standing not to be likely to be deceived in regard to the conduct and character of any one who speaks on the subject,

"i am, yours very respectfully,

"harriet martineau.

"london, november 1, 1855."

born june 12, 1802, at norwich, she died june 27, 1876, at ambleside. in 1832, when she was twenty-eight, lucy atkin wrote to tell dr. channing that "a great light had arisen among women," which shone for forty-four years. when she was a young woman, lord melbourne offered her a pension, which she declined on the ground that a government which did not represent the people had no right to give away their money—an act of integrity so infrequent as to be always fresh. in her case it explains a career.

two of the greatest women in europe, george sand and harriet martineau, of nearly equal age, died within a few weeks of each other. "passed away" is the phrase now employed, as though the writer knew that a journey was intended, and was in progress, whereas as barry cornwall wrote:—

"a flower above and a mould below

is all the mourners ever know."

mrs. fenwick miller relates that miss martineau began writing for the press, like the famous novelist mentioned, under a man's name, "deciphalus." once when at mr. w. e. forster's, at burley, it fell to me to take mrs. forster down to dinner. being in doubt as to what was etiquette in such cases, preferring to be thought uncouth than familiar, i did not offer my hostess my arm. afterwards i asked miss martineau what i might have done. she answered that "a guest was an equal, and any act of courtesy permissible in him was permissible in me," but in better terms than i can invent. recurring to the subject at another time, she said, "i was well pleased at your consulting me as you did. it would save a world of trouble and doubt and energy, if we all asked one another what the other is qualified to tell. i, who have to be economical of energy and time, always do it. i ask, point blank, what it is important for me to know, from any one who can best tell me, and i like to be inquired of in the same way. i hope no guest will feel puzzled in my house, but ask, and what i can answer i will." the readiness with which she placed her wisdom at the service of her friends might have given matthew arnold (as she was a frequent visitor at fox howe) his idea of "sweetness and light."

greater than the difficulty of deafness was the fact that miss martineau wrote on the side of liberalism. tory writers dipped their pens in the best preparation of venom sold by conservative chemists. the church and king party, which burnt down dr. priestley's house, soon discovered that miss martineau was guilty of the further crime of being a unitarian. nevertheless, she abandoned no principle, nor apologised for maintaining what she believed to be true. spinoza, as renan has told us, gave great offence to his adversaries by the integrity of his life, as it did not give them a fair opportunity of attacking him, for the enormity of his conduct in believing less than they believed. this was the case with harriet martineau, who had said in one of her books, "a parent has a considerable influence over the subsistence fund of his family, and an absolute control over the numbers to be supported by that fund." the quarterly review, "written by gentlemen for gentlemen," added, "we venture to ask this maiden sage the meaning of this passage." why not ask the rev. thomas maithus, whose words miss martineau merely repeated? all that was meant was "deferred marriages." the reviewer put an obscene construction upon it, and imputed to her his own malignant inference. this was a common rascality of logic alike in theology and politics in those days.

the intrepid authoress happened to believe there was some truth in mesmerism. dr. elliotson, who thought so too, told me that his temerity that way cost him ￡7,000 a year in fees. this mesmeric episode brought the doctors upon the poor lady, who never forgave her being alive when they said she ought to be dead. eminent physicians predicted that she would sink down in six months. when, instead of sinking down, she rode on a camel to mount sinai and petra, and on horseback to damascus, they said "she had never been ill!"

she had the unusual capacity which the gods only are said to give—that of seeing herself as others saw her. she saw her own life and intellectual power in its strength and in its limitation, as though she stood away from them and looked at them; she saw them, as it were, palpable and apart from herself. of imagination, which sheds sunshine over style, she had little. her pictures were etchings rather than paintings. her strength lay in directness of expression and practical thought she saw social facts and their influences, their nature and sequences, with a vividness no other writer of her day did. when she had completed the translation of comte's "positive philosophy," she placed at my disposal twenty-five copies to give to persons unable to buy them, but able to profit by them; and to extend the knowledge of its principles. she offered me the publication of an edition of "household education." no book like it had been written before, and none since. four hundred copies were sold by my arrangement. the book was mainly intended for women. the review of it for the reasoner* was written by my wife, as i advocated that women should take their own affairs in the press into their own hands, and give their own opinion on what concerned them. miss martineau's object in writing "household education" was, she told me, "to indicate that, in her opinion, education should be on a philosophical basis," adding: "i should see the great point of it is ignoring rank in so important a matter as the development of human beings. it was written for buckingham palace and the humblest cottage where life is decently conducted." miss martineau lived twenty-two years after receiving prognostications of early decease. had she not been a woman of courage she would have died, as was suggested to her. she understood that she must accept new conditions of life. she had a bed made in a railway carriage, and went down with her maids to ambleside, and never left her house except to take air and get the relief which the smoking of a cigarette gave her, as she sat on summer evenings just outside the open windows of her sitting-room. she might have given herself greater liberty, for she did not die of heart ailment after all.

* reasoner, vol. vi. pp. 378-9 and 390.

as i have seen in women of thought, harriet martineau, like george eliot, grew handsomer as she grew older, and acquired that queenly dignity, such as is seen in george richmond's painting of miss martineau in mature years.

she devoted all her diversified genius to inspire public affairs with loftier aims and persistent purpose. she was one of those christians mentioned by shakespeare who "mean to be saved by believing rightly."* harriet martineau did, and these words of flavius might be her epitaph.

* "twelfth night," act iii., scene 2.