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PLATFORM WORK, 1860–1861.

On the third Monday in May 1860 Mr. Bradlaugh commenced his second debate with the Rev. Brewin Grant, which was to be continued over four successive Mondays. The St. George's Hall, Bradford, capable of holding 4000 persons, was taken for the discussion, and people attended from all the surrounding districts, and some even came in from the adjoining county of Lancashire. So much has been said as to the relative bearing and ability of these unlike men, to the disparagement of Mr. Bradlaugh, that it will come as a surprise to many to learn that Mr. Grant's language and conduct during this debate were condemned in the most unqualified terms by persons altogether unfriendly to his antagonist.[47]

In the fourth night of the debate, Mr. Grant, harping on the alleged immoralities of Paine and Carlile, twitted his antagonist with calling him "my friend." When the time came for my father to reply, he rose, evidently in a white heat of anger, to defend these two great dead men from their living calumniator. His speech produced such an effect, not only upon the audience, but upon Mr. Grant, that the latter grew quite uneasy under his words and under his gaze; he asked "Iconoclast" to look at the audience and not at him. Mr. Bradlaugh replied: "I will take it that you are, as indeed you ought to be, ashamed to look an earnest man in the face, and I will look at you no more. Mr. Grant complains that I have called him 'my friend.' It is true, in debate I have accustomed myself to wish all men my friends, and to greet them as friends if possible. The habit, like a garment, fits me, and I have in this discussion used the phrase 'my friend;' but, believe me, I did not mean it. Friendship with you would be a sore disgrace and little honour."

A verbatim report was taken of this debate; but when the MS. of his speeches was sent the Rev. Brewin Grant for approval, he refused to return it, and thus the debate was never published.

Another person who came forward to champion Christianity against "Infidels" generally, and Mr. Bradlaugh in particular, was the Rev. Dr. Brindley. This gentleman, well known as a confirmed drunkard and a bankrupt, was yet announced as the "Champion of Christianity, the well-known controversialist against Mr. Robert Owen, and the Socialists, the Mormons, and the Secularists." A four nights' debate was arranged to take place at Oldham in June in the Working Men's Hall.

The meagre reports show nothing of any interest beyond the fact that on each evening there were enormous audiences. Mr. Bradlaugh had another four nights' debate with Dr. Brindley at Norwich a few months later, but this did not appear to be worth reporting at all. Dr. Brindley was not by any means so clever as Mr. Grant, nor did he use quite such scandalous language upon the public platform and to his adversary's face, although, if rumour did not belie him, he was more unrestrained both as to matter and manner when relieved of his antagonist's presence.[48] One thing at least he and Mr. Grant had in common—an overwhelming antagonism to Mr. Bradlangh. This feeling led each man into continuous hostile acts, overt or covert, each according to his temperament and opportunity. Dr. Brindley's rage amounted to fever heat when Mr. Bradlaugh became candidate for Northampton, and in that town he frantically used every endeavour to hinder his return. When Mr. Bradlaugh determined to go to America in 1873, Dr. Brindley's feelings quite overpowered him, and he rushed after his enemy to New York, with, I suppose, some sort of idea of hunting down the wicked Atheist, though really, looking back on the past, it is difficult to see that the poor creature could have had any clear ideas as to what he was going to do to Mr. Bradlaugh when he reached America. He must have been carried away by some sort of wild frenzy, which amounted to insanity. My father's first lecture upon the Republican Movement in England, at the Steinway Hall, New York, proved to be an immense success, and at its close Dr. Brindley offered some opposition. By his language he aroused such a storm of hisses and uproar, that Mr. Bradlaugh was obliged to interpose on his behalf, which he did by appealing to the audience "to let the gentleman who represents the aristocracy and the Church of England go on." This convulsed the assembly, who—in laughter and amusement—consented to hear the rev. gentleman out. Four days later Dr. Brindley publicly answered Mr. Bradlaugh at the Cooper Institute, and the Germantown Chronicle (Philadelphia) gives the following amusing account of the proceedings:—

"Brindley's purpose in life is to go for Bradlaugh hammer and tongs, and he has actually paid his way out here, cabin passage, to hunt up and show up and finally shut up the six foot leader of the English Radicals. He is determined to keep on after Bradlaugh hot foot, and wherever that eminent individual leaves a trace of his presence, there will the indefatigable Brindley be, with his orthodox whitewash brush, to wipe out the name and memory of his Freethinking countryman. Dr. Brindley is an interesting orator, and the most simple-minded Briton that has presented himself at the Cooper Institute for some time. His voice is as funny as a Punch and Judy's, and when the audience of last night roared with laughter, it was impossible to tell whether it was at what Brindley had said, or Brindley's method and voice in saying it. Some of the audience were beery, and disposed to ask beery questions. The speaker said England was full of wealth, and that labour was never so well paid. Everybody was happy, and Bradlaugh was an incendiary, a story-teller, a nuisance, who would make a rumpus and make everybody miserable, even in the Garden of Eden. 'Were you ever in a casual ward?' asked a smudgy fellow in the back of the hall. 'No,' answered the bold Brindley, 'but if you were there now it would save the police trouble.' And so he replied to other impertinent questions, until he made the impression that he was not quite such a fool as he looked. He said Bradlaugh was an Atheist, whose belief is that 'brain power is the only soul in man,' and that as he was played out in England he had come over here to air his theories, and pick up pennies. 'You know where Cheshire is?' said Brindley, 'Cheshire, where the cheese is made,' and Brindley was about to tell a story on this head, when a donkey at the back end of the hall cried out, 'There ain't no cheese made there now. It's all done in Duchess county.' No telling what a good thing this fellow spoiled by his remark. Bradlaugh, anyhow, was scalped and vivisected, and Brindley took his tomahawk and himself away soon after."

But the farce was to end in a tragedy. Overcome by chagrin and mortification, Dr. Brindley died within a month of his appearance on the Steinway Hall platform. He died in New York in poverty and neglect, and was buried in a pauper's grave. The Chicago Times, alluding to the terms of Mr. Bradlaugh's appeal to the New York audience to give Dr. Brindley a hearing, said that the rev. gentleman was "slain by satire." "Since Keats, according to Byron, was snuffed out by a single article, there has been no parallel except this of a human creature snuffed out by a single sentence."

Following quickly upon the heels of the debate at Oldham with Dr. Brindley came one with the Rev. Joseph Baylee, D.D., Principal of St. Aidan's College, Birkenhead. Dr. Baylee himself proposed the conditions on which alone he would consent to discuss. These conditions threw the entire trouble and expense of the three nights' discussion upon Mr. Bradlaugh's committee. They provided that Dr. Baylee and his friends might open and conclude the proceedings with prayer, and they also provided that the debate should consist of questions and categorical answers with no speeches whatever on either side. Those who recall Mr. Bradlaugh's marvellous rapidity of thought, and the way in which he could instantly grasp and reason out a position, will see that this condition would certainly be no disadvantage to my father. The audiences, as usual, crowded the hall, and listened to both speakers with the utmost attention. This discussion, which was reported at length and published in pamphlet form,[49] has had a very wide circulation. It is in many respects a remarkable debate; but as it is easily obtainable, I will leave it to speak for itself, more especially as, from its peculiar form of question and answer, it does not lend itself conveniently to quotation.

Were it possible it would be tedious to follow Mr. Bradlaugh through the hundreds of lectures which he delivered during these ten years, but it will be interesting, and will give us a clearer idea of the turmoil and work of his life, to note some of the difficulties he had to meet thirty or so years ago. Nowadays, as soon as Parliament rises nearly every member of the House of Commons thinks himself called upon to go and air his views throughout the length and breadth of the country; then, public speaking was much more uncommon, and Freethought lectures in especial were few and far between. To-day, almost every town of any size has its own Freethought speakers, and speakers come to it with more or less frequency from adjoining districts and from London. Little difficulties create great stir and excitement now: then, great difficulties came almost as a matter of course. But even when difficulties were frequent and not altogether unexpected, that did not make them the easier to endure. A brick-bat which reaches its aim hurts just as much whether it is one out of many thrown or just one thrown by itself.

At Wigan, in October 1860, my father went to deliver two lectures in the Commercial Hall. The conduct of the people in this town was so disgraceful, that he said in bitter jest that if he did much more of this "extended propaganda" he should require to be insured against accident to life and limb.

"I may be wrong," he wrote,[50] "but I shall never be convinced of my error by a mob of true believers yelling at my heels like mad dogs, under the leadership of a pious rector's trusty subordinate, or hammering at the door of my lecture room under the direction of an infuriated Church parson. I object that in the nineteenth century it is hardly to be tolerated that a bigot priest shall use his influence with the proprietor of the hotel where I am staying, in order to 'get that devil kicked out into the street' after half-past ten at night. I do not admit the right of a rich Church dignitary's secretary to avoid the payment of his threepence at the door by jumping through a window, especially when I or my friends have to pay for the broken glass and sash frame. True, all these things and worse happened at Wigan."

There had been no Freethought lectures in Wigan for upwards of twenty years; the clergy had had it all their own way there undisturbed. They determined to oppose the wicked Iconoclast in every way, and began by engaging the largest hall available and advertising the same subjects as those announced for the Freethought platform. Had they contented themselves with this form of opposition, all would have been well, but their zeal outran discretion, carrying with it their manners and all appearance of decency and decorum. My father, continuing his account of this affair, said—

"Being unknown in Wigan, except by hearsay, I expected therefore but a moderate audience. I was in this respect agreeably disappointed. The hall was inconveniently crowded, and many remained outside in the square, unable to obtain admittance. No friend was known to me who could or would officiate as chairman, and I therefore appealed to the meeting to elect their own president. No response being made to this, I intimated my intention of proceeding without one. This the Christians did not seem to relish, and therefore elected a gentleman named [the Rev. T.] Dalton to the chair, who was very tolerable, except that he had eccentric views of a chairman's duty, and slightly shortened my time, while he also took a few minutes every now and then for himself to refute my objections to the Bible."

With the exception of the excitable and somewhat unmannerly behaviour of some of the clergymen present, this meeting passed off without any serious disturbance, and was not unfairly reported by the Wigan Observer, which described "Mr. Iconoclast" as "a well-made and healthy looking man, apparently not more than thirty years of age. He possesses great fluency of speech, and is evidently well posted up in the subject of his addresses. Of assurance he has no lack; and we scarcely think it would be possible to put a question to him to which he had not an answer ready—good, bad, or indifferent."

By the following evening the temper of the Wiganites had become—what shall I say? More Christian? Mr. Bradlaugh, when he arrived at the hall, "found it crowded to excess, and in addition many hundreds outside unable to gain admittance. My name," he says, "was the subject of loud and hostile comment, several pious Christians in choice Billingsgate intimating that they would teach me a lesson. As on the previous evening, I requested the religious body to elect a chairman, and Mr. Thomas Stuart was voted to the chair. Of this gentleman I must say that he was courteous, generous, and manly, and by his kindly conduct compelled my respect and admiration. Previous to my lecture the majority of those present hooted and yelled with a vigour which, if it betokened healthy lungs, did not vouch so well for a healthy brain; and I commenced my address amidst a terrific din. Each window was besieged, and panes of glass were dashed out in more reckless wantonness, while at the same time a constant hammering was kept up at the main door. As this showed no prospect of cessation, I went myself to the door, and, to my disgust, found that the disturbance was being fostered and encouraged by a clergyman[51] of the Church of England, who wished to gain admittance. I told him loss of life might follow any attempt to enter the room in its present overcrowded state. His answer was that he knew there was plenty of room, and would come in. To prevent worse strife I admitted him, and by dint of main strength and liberal use of my right arm repelled the others, closed the doors, and returned to the platform. I had, however, at the doors received one blow in the ribs, which, coupled with the extraordinary exertions required to keep the meeting in check, fairly tired me out in about an hour. Several times, when any crash betokened a new breach in either door or window, the whole of the audience toward the end of the room jumped up, and I had literally to keep them down by dint of energetic lung power. Towards the conclusion of the lecture, the secretary of the rector forced his way bodily through a window, and I confess I felt a strong inclination to go to that end of the room and pitch him back through the same aperture. If he had intended a riot, he could not have acted more riotously. Some limestone was thrown in at another window, and a little water was poured through the ventilators by some persons who had gained possession of the roof. This caused some merriment, which turned to alarm when an arm and hand waving a dirty rag appeared through a little hole in the centre of the ceiling. One man in a wideawake then jumped upon one of the forms, and excitedly shouted to me, 'See, the devil has come for you!' After the lecture, I received in the confusion several blows, but none of importance. When I quitted the building one well-dressed man asked me, 'Do you not expect God to strike you dead, and don't you deserve that the people should serve you out for your blasphemy?' Two spat in my face."

Being concerned for the fate of the hotel if he carried back with him the excited crowds which dogged his heels, Mr. Bradlaugh's first impulse was to avoid it; but remembering that he had left all his money there, he contrived to escape his pursuers, and reached the hotel unaccompanied, except by one friend. Notwithstanding that there was not "the slightest disturbance at the hotel, the landlady wished me at once to leave the house, I appealed to her hospitality in vain. I next stood on my legal rights, went to my bedroom, locked the door, retired to bed, and tried to dream that Wigan was a model Agapemone."

Before the dispersal of the meeting, and while the Rev. W. T. Whitehead was asking the audience to teach Mr. Bradlaugh a lesson which should prevent him coming again, whether intentionally or not, the gas was turned off, so that the hundreds of persons in the room, already in confusion, were placed in great danger of losing their lives. Fortunately, the gas was relighted before any serious consequences had resulted.

About a month later Mr. Bradlaugh was again speaking at Wigan. The Mayor had threatened to lock him up, but, as might be expected, the threat was an empty one. The Wigan Examiner entreated the public not to attend the lectures, but without result. On the first evening a form was set aside for the accommodation of the clergy, but it remained vacant. After the meeting (which had been a fairly orderly one) Mr. Bradlaugh relates how he was followed to his lodgings "by a mob who had not been present at the lecture, and who yelled and shouted in real collier fashion. The Examiner says they intended to 'purr' me.[52] An invitation on my part to any two of them to settle the matter with me in approved pugilistic fashion produced a temporary lull, under cover of which shelter was gained from the storm of hooting and howling which soon broke out anew with redoubled vigour. On the second evening the Christian mob outside were even more discourteous." Some friends[53] who had offered Mr. Bradlaugh the hospitality of their roof, so that he might not again suffer the treatment he had received at the Victoria Hotel on the former occasion, were threatened and annoyed in a most disgraceful manner, besides being hissed and hooted on entering the lecture hall. Stones were thrown at Mr. Bradlaugh and Mr. John Watts as they went in, but during the lecture all was orderly. At the end, however, Mr. Hutchings, a Nonconformist and the sub-editor of the Examiner, amidst considerable noise and confusion, entered with the Rev. J. Davis and other friends, to contradict what Mr. Bradlaugh had said on the previous night. After some animated discussion, it was arranged that a set two nights' debate should be held between them. Mr. Bradlaugh then left the hall, and was immediately surrounded by a noisy crew.

"I walked slowly home," said my father. "At last, in a narrow court, one fellow kicked me in the back part of my thigh. I turned quickly round, and invited an attempt at repetition, promising prepayment in a good knock-down for the kicker; and the whole pack of yelping religionists turned tail. Men and women turned out of their houses half-dressed, and when the name 'Iconoclast' passed from one to the other, the adjectives attached to it sufficiently proved that humanising influences were sorely needed to soften the conversational exuberance of the natives of Wigan."

Those who were not sufficiently brave to come near enough to give a kick at Mr. Bradlaugh's back hurled bricks at him, but cowardice unnerved them and prevented them from taking a good aim, so that although his hat was damaged, he himself was unhurt. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson courageously insisted upon walking by his side, and the followers of the meek and lowly Jesus thought it no shame to throw stones at a woman: here, their victim being weaker, their courage was accordingly greater and their aim straighter. But if the people acted so merely from ignorance and narrowness, it is not so easy to explain the malevolent attitude of certain local journals to my father. Week after week, the Wigan Examiner persisted in the attack, being especially virulent in its onslaught upon his personal character. It reprinted Mr. Packer's mendacious letter to Brewin Grant, and the following extract prefacing the letter will serve to show how great was the desire of the editor to keep the commandments of his Deity, and not to bear false witness:—

"Born in the classic region of Bethnal Green, he [Mr. Bradlaugh] devoted his juvenile faculties to the advocacy of teetotalism, but finding that this theme did not afford sufficient scope for his genius, he formed (sic) himself to a select band of reformers who met in an upper room or garret in the neighbourhood. Being a fluent speaker, he was soon exalted to the dignity of an apostle in his new vocation, and finding the work in every respect much more congenial to his mind than weaving, he broke loose from all restraint, and went into the new business with energy."

The debate between Mr. Hutchings and Mr. Bradlaugh was finally arranged for the 4th and 5th February (1861). On his way to the hall on the first evening, my father received "one evidence of Christianity in the shape of a bag of flour;" this was, of course, intended to soil his clothes, but "fortunately it was flung with too great violence, and after crushing the side of another new hat from Mr. Hipwell,[54] covered the pavement instead of myself. I shall need a special fund for hats," wrote Mr. Bradlaugh, "if I visit Wigan often." On his return from the debate, although he was followed by a large crowd of men and boys, all hooting was quickly suppressed, and was, in fact, attempted only by a very few. On his first visit to Wigan he had "retired to rest, not only without friends to bid me good-night, but with many a score of loud-tongued, rough lads and men bidding me, in phraseology startling and effective, everything but so kindly a farewell;"[55] but during the three months which had elapsed since Mr. Bradlaugh's earliest visit to this Lancashire mining town public feeling had considerably changed and modified; and in the evening, the house where he was staying "was crowded out," he tells us, "with rough but honest earnest men and women, who insisted, one and all, in gripping my hand in friendliness, and wishing me good speed in my work. The change was so great that a tear mounted to my eye despite myself." His was always the same sensitive nature; he was ever moved to the heart by a sign of true sympathy or real affection. Persecution found him stern and unflinching, hypocrisy found him severe and unforgiving, but kindness or affection, instantly touched the fountain of his gratitude and his tenderness.

Out of this debate, which contains nothing particularly noteworthy,[56] arose a lawsuit. The reporter, a person named Stephenson M. Struthers, after having sold "the transcript" to Mr. Bradlaugh at 8d. per folio, sold a second copy of his notes to Mr. William Heaton, on behalf of Mr. Hutchings' Committee, for 3 guineas. This my father did not discover until he had used some of the copy, and paid Struthers £5 on account. He then refused to pay the balance (£11, 16s.), and for this the shorthand-writer sued him. Mr. Bradlaugh expressed his willingness to pay for the labour involved in making a copy; but he objected to pay for the sole copy when he had not received that for which he had contracted. The suit came on in the Wigan County Court, before J. S. T. Greene, Esq., on April 11th (1861). After the case for the plaintiff was closed, Mr. Bradlaugh entered the witness-box to be sworn—at that time the only form under which he could give evidence. Mr. Mayhew (for the plaintiff), after some preamble as to not desiring to be offensive, asked "with regret" if Mr. Bradlaugh believed "in the religious obligations of an oath?" Mr. Bradlaugh objected to answer any question until he was sworn. The Judge would not allow the objection; and after a considerable interchange of opinion and question and answer between the Judge and Mr. Bradlaugh, in which the latter explicitly stated his readiness to be sworn, he asked to be allowed to affirm. This the Judge refused to permit. And this is how the episode ended:—

The Judge: Only give me a direct answer.

Mr. Bradlaugh: I am not answering your question at all. I have objected on two grounds, both of which your Honour has overruled, that I am not bound to answer the question.

The Judge: If you put it in that way, I should be sorry to exercise any power that I believe I possess according to law. You won't answer the question?

Mr. Bradlaugh: I object that I am not bound to answer any question that will criminate myself.

The Judge: You will not answer my question. Do you believe in the existence of a supreme God?

Mr. Bradlaugh: I object that the answer, if in the negative, would subject me to a criminal prosecution.

The Judge: Do you believe in a state of future rewards and punishments?

Mr. Bradlaugh: I object that—

The Judge: Then I shall not permit you to give evidence at all; and I think you escape very well in not being sent to gaol.

The Judge, having thus taken advantage of his magisterial position to insult a defenceless man as well as to refuse his evidence, proceeded with consummate injustice to sum it up as an "undefended case," and gave a verdict for the plaintiff for the full amount. After the Case was over, Mr. William Heaton wrote to Mr. Bradlaugh denying a material point in Mr. Struthers' sworn evidence as to what had occurred between them. Thus did the laws of Christian England treat an Atheist as outlaw, and in the name of justice deal out injustice in favour of a man who, as his fellow Christian stated, had spoken falsely under his oath in the witness-box.

Mr. Hutchings himself felt the disgrace of this so keenly that he wrote expressing his desire to co-operate in a public movement in Wigan in favour of Sir John Trelawny's Affirmation Bill. "I do feel strongly," he said, "that you were most wrongfully and iniquitously deprived of the opportunity of defending your cause, and this I feel the more strongly that it was done in strict conformity with English law."

Two other polemical encounters arose directly out of the Wigan lectures; these were both held with the Rev. Woodville Woodman, a Swedenborgian divine. The first, at Wigan, upon the "Existence of God," continued over four nights; the second, upon the "Divine Revelation of the Bible," also a four nights' debate, was held at Ashton in the autumn of the same year.

Mr. Bradlaugh held quite a number of theological discussions about this time. In addition to those I have already mentioned with the Rev. Brewin Grant, Dr. Brindley, Dr. Baylee, Mr. Hutchings, and the Rev. Woodville Woodman, a controversial correspondence between himself and the Rev. Thomas Lawson, a Baptist minister of Bacup, arose out of some lectures delivered by Mr. Bradlaugh in Newchurch in October 1860. It was originally intended to hold a set debate upon the subject "Has Man a Soul?" but no hall could be obtained in Bacup for the purposes of the discussion. The correspondence was therefore published in the National Reformer during the spring of the following year. Then a debate upon the credibility of the Gospels was arranged between Mr. Bradlaugh and the Rev. J. H. Rutherford, and was held in Liverpool in October 1860; another upon "What does the Bible teach about God?" was held with Mr. Mackie in Warrington in April 1861; and a few months later my father also debated for two nights at Birmingham with Mr. Robert Mahalm, a representative of the Irish Church Mission in that town.

In the middle of July (1860) he was lecturing for the first time in Norwich. St. Andrew's Hall was taken, and the proceeds of the lecture were to go to Garibaldi; but this was one of the places where religious prejudice was strong, and where therefore the receipts did not equal the expenditure. On the second evening Mr. Bradlaugh delivered an open-air address at Chapel Field, when "yells, hisses, abuse, a little mud, and a few stones formed the chorus and finale of the entertainment." Nothing daunted, in September he went to Norwich again, and the orderly behaviour of his audience formed a marked contrast to their previous conduct. By November, when he once more visited Norwich, the Freethinkers there had found themselves strong enough to hire a commodious chapel for the winter months, substituting a piano for the communion table. From Norwich his steps turned naturally to Yarmouth, where he was much amused by hearing the town crier follow up his "Oyez! Oyez!" by the announcement that "the cel-e-bra-ted I-con-o-clast" had arrived.

Only a few weeks elapsed before Mr. Bradlaugh again went to Norwich and Yarmouth. He went the week immediately before Christmas, and had an eight hours' journey to get there, with the driving snow coming through "the Eastern Counties Railway Company's patent [3rd class] ventilating carriages," which seemed constructed with the express object of making "perfectly clear to the unfortunate passengers the criminality of their poverty." This, his fourth visit to Norwich, was a great success, and the lectures at Yarmouth were also more favourably listened to. By January he found his audiences increasing at Norwich, and the interest perceptibly growing, but at Yarmouth he received a check. There had been much commotion in the local official circles at the repeated visits of the Atheist lecturer, and pressure was used on all sides, so that only a small sale room in a back street could be hired for the lectures. The room was soon overcrowded; Mr. Bradlaugh had to be his own chairman, and on going home walked to the music of yells and hootings. This display of intolerance roused up some of the more thoughtful inhabitants, and the theatre was obtained for the following night, when, despite the necessarily brief notice, a large audience—including many ladies—assembled to hear the lecture. A Mr. Fletcher was elected to the chair, the proceedings were orderly throughout, and Mr. Bradlaugh walked home unmolested.

The matter, however, was not to end here. Both the Yarmouth clergy (or at least one Yarmouth clergyman, the Rev. E. Neville) and magistrates expressed their determination that the lectures must be put down, and so Mr. Bradlaugh received information that proceedings were to be taken against him for blasphemy. The Norfolk News and Yarmouth Independent for March 23rd reported a meeting of magistrates at which the subject of "Iconoclast's" visits was under discussion, the letting of the theatre to him was severely commented upon, and the persons responsible for the letting held up to public odium. Not one of the nine or ten magistrates present could be found to say a word on behalf of the Atheist; and the speeches of the Mayor, Mr. S. Nightingale, and one other of the magistrates, Mr. Hammond, from which I quote, are typical of the attitude of the rest:—

"He [the Mayor] had attended the bench that morning (Tuesday, March 19) because he had observed bills circulated in the town setting forth that 'that wretched man calling himself "Iconoclast"'[57] intended to give lectures again at the theatre. He really thought 'Iconoclast' was doing a great deal of mischief in the minds of the younger part of the community, and he thought they ought to take some steps to prevent it. He some time ago called the attention of their clerk to the subject, who had proceeded to look into the law of the case. It seemed monstrous to him that a man should be allowed to utter blasphemy as 'Iconoclast' was doing and for them not to interfere. … He wished the magistrates to take some steps for putting a stop to these lectures."

The Mayor found an ardent supporter in Mr. Hammond, who

"thought the thanks of the town were due to His Worship for bringing the subject before the notice of the bench. He had thought of it yesterday himself, and spoken to one or two of the magistrates on the matter, and he also intended to call on the Mayor about it, had he not gone into it. It was evident that Mr. Sidney [the lessee of the theatre]—at least he (Mr. Hammond) thought—could not know what he was letting the theatre for. He (Mr. Hammond) was part proprietor of the theatre himself; but rather than take any part of the profits arising out of such a purpose, he would sooner see it shut up for twenty years. If no other magistrate would do it, he would move that Mr. Sidney be refused his licence next year, should these diabolical practices be allowed at the theatre. He perceived from the large bill issued that the front boxes were to be 6d., the upper boxes 4d., the pit 3d., and the gallery 2d.; and it must be evident to the magistrates that the thing must be disreputable indeed to have a place like the theatre let in that way—to have the public mind poisoned by a repetition of these lectures, perhaps by-and-by at 2d. each, as an inducement to lead the young away that they might hear the Holy Scriptures set at nought. He felt very sensitive on the point, and so far as his humble assistance went, he would give it to put a stop to these nefarious practices. He felt personally obliged to the Mayor for bringing forward the subject that morning, and he hoped every magistrate on the bench would lend a helping hand towards putting a stop to the nuisance. (Applause.)"

At the conclusion of the proceedings, Mr. Nightingale (the Mayor) observed "that he felt determined to put a stop to these exhibitions."[58]

In a leaderette the local journal commented strongly on the course proposed by the wise and learned Dogberries; and when Mr. Bradlaugh placarded Yarmouth with an address to the magistrates accepting the gauntlet thus thrown down, and expressing his resolve to lecture within their jurisdiction, it spoke of the "spirited reply" which he had addressed to his would-be persecutors. The upshot of all this was that my father immediately determined to devote a special week to East Anglia, commencing with two nights at Yarmouth.

"On my arrival at Yarmouth," he wrote, "I found myself literally hunted from room to room. The theatre being closed against me, the Masonic Hall was taken, but the mayor personally waited upon the proprietor, and the 'screw' being put on I was also deprived of this room. I was determined not to be beaten, and therefore hired a large bleaching-ground in which to deliver an open-air address." There were present about 1000 persons, "including at least one magistrate and several police officers," and it may be noted as most significant that the action of the magistrates did not meet with popular favour, that the meeting concluded with cheers for Mr. Bradlaugh and for the owner of the ground. On the following evening the audience was largely increased, and numbered at least 5000 persons, who were orderly and attentive throughout. Outside the meeting there was stone-throwing, principally by boys. One of the stones struck my mother, who, identifying the lad who threw it, threatened to give him into custody. At which the lad answered, "Oh, please, mum, you cannot; the police have told us to make all the noise, and throw as many stones as we can." This, we will hope, was a liberal interpretation of the police instructions, but at least it shows very strongly that the lads had reason to expect the police to look very leniently upon their escapades. The magisterial bluster ended in bluster, and the only result to Yarmouth from a Christian standpoint was a pamphlet against "Infidelity" written by a Charles Houchen, and whether that can be set down to the credit of Christianity we must leave it to the followers of that creed to judge. Mr. Houchen said—

"It has been asked what is the real object of Iconoclast going from place to place, and coming to Yarmouth from time to time, and the answer has been money, money. Now, I ask the reader what think you, whoever you be, suppose Iconoclast himself was guaranteed to be better paid than he now is for travelling from place to place, do you not think he would turn round?"

To this my father rejoined that "the whole amount of Iconoclast's receipts from Yarmouth has not equalled his payments for board, lodging, and printing in that eastern seaport; that he has journeyed to and fro at his own cost; and that if his object 'has been money, money,' he has suffered grievous disappointment, and this not because the audiences have been small, but because of that 'rarity of Christian charity' which shut him out of theatre and lecture-hall after each had been duly hired, and prompted policemen to connive at stone-throwing when directed against an Infidel lecturer."