Robert Dale Owen on marriage
09/30/2011 09:57 Category: Freethinkers
We desire a tranquil life, in so far as it can be obtained without a sacrifice of principle.
And, since it’s on the same page of the Boston Investigator as Eliza Sharples’ speech, here’s the famous Robert Dale Owen - Mary Jane Robinson marriage contract. I’m copying the entire document — others cherry-pick the items that interest them, like the women’s rights issue, and leave out the remarks about religion. They don’t want to consider, apparently, how the issues all fit together for people like Owen and Robinson…
New York, Thursday Morning, April 12, 1832.
This afternoon I enter into a martimonial engagement with Mary Jane Robinson, a young person whose opinions on all important subjects, and whose mode of thinking and feeling, coincide, in so far as I may judge, more intimately with my own, than those of any other individual with whom I am acquainted.
We contract a legal marriage, not because we deem the ceremony necessary to us, or useful, in a rational state of public opinion, to society; but because, if we became companions without a legal ceremony, we should either be compelled to a series of dissimulations which we both dislike, or be perpetually exposed to annoyances, originating in a public opinion, which is powerful though unenlightened; and whose power, though we do not fear nor respect it, we do not perceive the utility of unnecessarily braving. We desire a tranquil life, in so far as it can be obtained without a sacrifice of principle.
We have selected the simplest ceremony which the laws of this state recognize, and which, in consequence of the liberality of these laws, involves not the necessity of calling in the aid of a member of the clerical profession; a profession the credentials of which we do not recognize, and the influence of which we are led to consider injurious to society. The ceremony too, involves not the necessity of making promises regarding that over which we have no control, the state of human affections in the distant future; nor of repeating forms which we deem offensive, inasmuch as they outrage the principles of human liberty and equality, by conferring rights and imposing duties unequally on the sexes.
The ceremony consists simply in the signature, by each of us, on a written contract, in which we agree to take each other as husband and wife, according to the laws of the state of New York; our signatures being attested by those of all our friends who may be present.
Of the unjust rights which, in virtue of this ceremony, an iniquitous law gives me over the person and property of another, I cannot legally, but I can morally divest myself. And I hereby distinctly and emphatically declare, that I consider myself, and earnestly desire to be considered by others as utterly divested, now and during the rest of my life, of any such rights; the barbarous relics of a feudal and despotic system, soon destined, in the onward course of improvement, to be wholly swept away; and the existence of which is a tacit insult to the good sense and good feeling of the present comparatively civilized age.
I put down these sentiments on paper this morning, as a simple record of the views and feelings with which I enter into an engagement, important in whatever light we consider it; views and feelings which I believe to be shared by her who is, this afternoon, to become my wife.
Robert Dale Owen
I concur with these sentiments.
Mary Jane Robinson
And, since it’s on the same page of the Boston Investigator as Eliza Sharples’ speech, here’s the famous Robert Dale Owen - Mary Jane Robinson marriage contract. I’m copying the entire document — others cherry-pick the items that interest them, like the women’s rights issue, and leave out the remarks about religion. They don’t want to consider, apparently, how the issues all fit together for people like Owen and Robinson…
This afternoon I enter into a martimonial engagement with Mary Jane Robinson, a young person whose opinions on all important subjects, and whose mode of thinking and feeling, coincide, in so far as I may judge, more intimately with my own, than those of any other individual with whom I am acquainted.
We contract a legal marriage, not because we deem the ceremony necessary to us, or useful, in a rational state of public opinion, to society; but because, if we became companions without a legal ceremony, we should either be compelled to a series of dissimulations which we both dislike, or be perpetually exposed to annoyances, originating in a public opinion, which is powerful though unenlightened; and whose power, though we do not fear nor respect it, we do not perceive the utility of unnecessarily braving. We desire a tranquil life, in so far as it can be obtained without a sacrifice of principle.
We have selected the simplest ceremony which the laws of this state recognize, and which, in consequence of the liberality of these laws, involves not the necessity of calling in the aid of a member of the clerical profession; a profession the credentials of which we do not recognize, and the influence of which we are led to consider injurious to society. The ceremony too, involves not the necessity of making promises regarding that over which we have no control, the state of human affections in the distant future; nor of repeating forms which we deem offensive, inasmuch as they outrage the principles of human liberty and equality, by conferring rights and imposing duties unequally on the sexes.
The ceremony consists simply in the signature, by each of us, on a written contract, in which we agree to take each other as husband and wife, according to the laws of the state of New York; our signatures being attested by those of all our friends who may be present.
Of the unjust rights which, in virtue of this ceremony, an iniquitous law gives me over the person and property of another, I cannot legally, but I can morally divest myself. And I hereby distinctly and emphatically declare, that I consider myself, and earnestly desire to be considered by others as utterly divested, now and during the rest of my life, of any such rights; the barbarous relics of a feudal and despotic system, soon destined, in the onward course of improvement, to be wholly swept away; and the existence of which is a tacit insult to the good sense and good feeling of the present comparatively civilized age.
I put down these sentiments on paper this morning, as a simple record of the views and feelings with which I enter into an engagement, important in whatever light we consider it; views and feelings which I believe to be shared by her who is, this afternoon, to become my wife.
Robert Dale Owen
I concur with these sentiments.
Mary Jane Robinson
Dr. Charles Knowlton on infidelity
09/29/2011 09:56 Category: Freethinkers
I for one, can say I was once “a believer,” and I have not lost the knowledge—if knowledge it may be called—which made me such, but I have acquired MORE, and this has made me an infidel.
This is an 1833 editorial by Dr. Charles Knowlton, a frequent contributor to the Boston Investigator. There are several letters from Knowlton like this one, that are usually not connected with him (although no one has really tried to collect his writings…yet). All the spelling and emphasis is from the Spring 1833 original. I don’t have the date, but I’ll swing back around to the Antiquarian Society and pick it up sometime. This is nearly 200 years old, but a lot of the material about the state of religion and infidelity in America could have been written last week:
“INFIDELITY IN THE UNITED STATES.”
Such is the caption of an article in the Boston Mercantile of the 8th inst. Which article is such a heterogenus compound of error, truth, and scandal, that it must be attended to; else—as warm weather is approaching—it may shock the SENSE of—some good people! And cause them to turn aside from the broad, free road to truth and MENTAL INDEPENDENCE, in which so many are now beginning to walk.
The writer commences by expressing his opinion, that a free government cannot long exist unless the people are under the influence of the “moral principles of the christian religion.” MORAL principles, ha? What does the fellow mean? Hasn’t he the pluck to say religious principles, in these days of dawning reason and free enquiry? Surely he means religious principles, else why fall into libeling the infidels as if at a days work—as if he expected to make money by it?
Doesn’t he know there is nothing in the bible but paper and black marks? Moral principles are in the man. They are what experience in the world, or what eventually amounts to the same thing—they are what REASON has taught him. And hence it is, that when he meets with an EXPRESSION of them in the bible or any other book, he approves of it. No man admits it is right, for instance, to “do unto others as we would have others do unto us,” because he finds these words, or this precept, in the bible; but because reason has already taught him this moral truth. He as readily assents to this position—this expression of what reason has taught him, when he meets it in the writings of its original author, Confucius, as when he reads it in the new Testament.
Religious principles are what reason does not teach, and hence men differ about them. A religious man may or may not be moral; and a man may be moral, but not religious. When the words MORALITY and RELIGION are properly defined, it will be seen that there is a very marked distinction between them. There are no MORAL principles in the christian religion, any more than there are white hairs in black hairs. But as both white and black hairs may exist on the same head, so may expressions of moral principles and of religious notions, be bound up in the same book.
Now as moral principles are the result of experience—as they are what the great Book of Nature teaches, and as infidels read this book—if not more freely certainly less hampered by prejudice, than others; it is but reasonable to suppose, that, of the two, their moral principles are the best.
At any rate, their avowal of unpopular opinions, as a general thing argues in favour of their honesty. Morality is their only stay—their only claim on public favour. They have no cloak to cover their iniquities—no influential priests to hush up disgraceful affairs. And it is not their privilege to beg the widows’ mite; to demand tithes; to anathematize the philosopher and deprive him of his oath; to stop the mail, (if possible) to shut up shops, and arrest all labor, one day in seven, for the good of souls!
Verily, Verily, I would advise the man of the Mercantile to eat a little mustard! That he may talk no more about the “moral principles of the christian religion” being essential to a FREE government. Does not all history show that where “superstition in fashion” has had the greatest sway, government has been the most oppressive and tyrannical?
“We cannot persuade ourselves,” says the man of the Mercantile, “that the public generally are aware of the immense number (good!) of those who now fight under the black banners of Tom Pain and Robert Owen.” Black banners! Alas, the charges to which our language is subject. I have ever thought that black is emblematical of darkness—ignorance; but here it is coupled with the idea of light—knowledge. What but knowledge sends the dark veil of superstition, which is so industriously drawn over the understandings of almost all persons while young. I for one, can say I was once “a believer,” and I have not lost the knowledge—if knowledge it may be called—which made me such, but I have acquired MORE, and this has made me an infidel.
Speaking of the progress if infidelity, in the United States, the Mercantile says, on the authority of the “Spirit of the Pilgrims,” that “in 1828, the Owen infidels commenced publishing in New York the Free Enquirer, and in 1832 they had enlisted in their cause TWENTY PERIODICALS!” This is cheering. Our march is onward. We have began at the bottom—we are based on truth which dreads not but courts investigation. We have no expensive ceremonies. We free the mind of all its superstitious fears. The happiness of mankind is our object.
“And,” continues the man of Mercantile, “the citizens of Boston are probably aware that Julien Hall has been the scene of their blasphemous and disgusting services.” From what he has said of the MORAL principles of the christian RELIGION! I am not surprised to find that he is not sensible, that blasphemy consists only in speaking disrespectfully of a god in whom you believe. It is not blasphemy for christians to call Mahomet an imposter; nor for infidels to call Moses’ god a tyrant. As to the expression “HAS BEEN the scene” &c. it was doubtless designed to misrepresent. The public may rest assured that free enquiry is steadily on the advance in Boston. Julien Hall continues to be crowded by those who are in search of truth as it is in nature; and their organ, the Investigator, is spreading far and wide.
Having spoken of the progress of infidelity, the Mercantile proceeds to lay before his readers what he calls the leading principles of this “new school of irreligionists.” I shall but briefly notice some of his most glaring misrepresentations. First, That we hold “such a thing as moral truth cannot exist.” This is a lie, unless some very novel meaning is attached to the term, MORAL TRUTH.
Second, “that there is no proof that the soul is immaterial, or that it will survive the body.” We say there is no soul, and challenge all the world to adduce any evidence of the existence of such a thing.
Third, “They deny wholly the doctrine of free moral agency, and the consequent doctrine of responsibility, so that there is no such thing as virtue,—no such thing as crime.” We say there are no effects without causes, either without the head or within, and that one effect as necessarily follows its cause as another. Consequently, man, philosophically speaking, is no more a free agent than a time piece, yet we say, and consistently too, that, morally speaking man is responsible to man for his actions. As to the words virtue and crime, we give them an obvious and certain meaning. We say virtue consists in virtuous conduct or actions, and that virtuous actions are such as are conducive to our own happiness or that of others. Vice or crime we give the opposite meaning. We do NOT say that, “in our actions we ought to be governed by no motive but the desire of doing what will be most useful of agreeable to ourselves individually.” This is but another willful lie.
We do not say “that commerce ought to be DESTROYED; and only a VERY FEW of us hold “that property ought to be equally divided.”
As to “promiscuous intercourse,” so much harped upon by our opponents, as they have said ten times more about it than we have, I, of a truth, begin to believe it accords with their feelings, and that on this account their aim is to make people believe that many enlightened and distinguished characters approve of it. And as to the Slander cast upon the once Miss Frances Wright, while it can do us no harm, it is that which has mostly led me to “answer a fool according to his folly,” in the style of this communication.
C.K.
This is an 1833 editorial by Dr. Charles Knowlton, a frequent contributor to the Boston Investigator. There are several letters from Knowlton like this one, that are usually not connected with him (although no one has really tried to collect his writings…yet). All the spelling and emphasis is from the Spring 1833 original. I don’t have the date, but I’ll swing back around to the Antiquarian Society and pick it up sometime. This is nearly 200 years old, but a lot of the material about the state of religion and infidelity in America could have been written last week:
Such is the caption of an article in the Boston Mercantile of the 8th inst. Which article is such a heterogenus compound of error, truth, and scandal, that it must be attended to; else—as warm weather is approaching—it may shock the SENSE of—some good people! And cause them to turn aside from the broad, free road to truth and MENTAL INDEPENDENCE, in which so many are now beginning to walk.
The writer commences by expressing his opinion, that a free government cannot long exist unless the people are under the influence of the “moral principles of the christian religion.” MORAL principles, ha? What does the fellow mean? Hasn’t he the pluck to say religious principles, in these days of dawning reason and free enquiry? Surely he means religious principles, else why fall into libeling the infidels as if at a days work—as if he expected to make money by it?
Doesn’t he know there is nothing in the bible but paper and black marks? Moral principles are in the man. They are what experience in the world, or what eventually amounts to the same thing—they are what REASON has taught him. And hence it is, that when he meets with an EXPRESSION of them in the bible or any other book, he approves of it. No man admits it is right, for instance, to “do unto others as we would have others do unto us,” because he finds these words, or this precept, in the bible; but because reason has already taught him this moral truth. He as readily assents to this position—this expression of what reason has taught him, when he meets it in the writings of its original author, Confucius, as when he reads it in the new Testament.
Religious principles are what reason does not teach, and hence men differ about them. A religious man may or may not be moral; and a man may be moral, but not religious. When the words MORALITY and RELIGION are properly defined, it will be seen that there is a very marked distinction between them. There are no MORAL principles in the christian religion, any more than there are white hairs in black hairs. But as both white and black hairs may exist on the same head, so may expressions of moral principles and of religious notions, be bound up in the same book.
Now as moral principles are the result of experience—as they are what the great Book of Nature teaches, and as infidels read this book—if not more freely certainly less hampered by prejudice, than others; it is but reasonable to suppose, that, of the two, their moral principles are the best.
At any rate, their avowal of unpopular opinions, as a general thing argues in favour of their honesty. Morality is their only stay—their only claim on public favour. They have no cloak to cover their iniquities—no influential priests to hush up disgraceful affairs. And it is not their privilege to beg the widows’ mite; to demand tithes; to anathematize the philosopher and deprive him of his oath; to stop the mail, (if possible) to shut up shops, and arrest all labor, one day in seven, for the good of souls!
Verily, Verily, I would advise the man of the Mercantile to eat a little mustard! That he may talk no more about the “moral principles of the christian religion” being essential to a FREE government. Does not all history show that where “superstition in fashion” has had the greatest sway, government has been the most oppressive and tyrannical?
“We cannot persuade ourselves,” says the man of the Mercantile, “that the public generally are aware of the immense number (good!) of those who now fight under the black banners of Tom Pain and Robert Owen.” Black banners! Alas, the charges to which our language is subject. I have ever thought that black is emblematical of darkness—ignorance; but here it is coupled with the idea of light—knowledge. What but knowledge sends the dark veil of superstition, which is so industriously drawn over the understandings of almost all persons while young. I for one, can say I was once “a believer,” and I have not lost the knowledge—if knowledge it may be called—which made me such, but I have acquired MORE, and this has made me an infidel.
Speaking of the progress if infidelity, in the United States, the Mercantile says, on the authority of the “Spirit of the Pilgrims,” that “in 1828, the Owen infidels commenced publishing in New York the Free Enquirer, and in 1832 they had enlisted in their cause TWENTY PERIODICALS!” This is cheering. Our march is onward. We have began at the bottom—we are based on truth which dreads not but courts investigation. We have no expensive ceremonies. We free the mind of all its superstitious fears. The happiness of mankind is our object.
“And,” continues the man of Mercantile, “the citizens of Boston are probably aware that Julien Hall has been the scene of their blasphemous and disgusting services.” From what he has said of the MORAL principles of the christian RELIGION! I am not surprised to find that he is not sensible, that blasphemy consists only in speaking disrespectfully of a god in whom you believe. It is not blasphemy for christians to call Mahomet an imposter; nor for infidels to call Moses’ god a tyrant. As to the expression “HAS BEEN the scene” &c. it was doubtless designed to misrepresent. The public may rest assured that free enquiry is steadily on the advance in Boston. Julien Hall continues to be crowded by those who are in search of truth as it is in nature; and their organ, the Investigator, is spreading far and wide.
Having spoken of the progress of infidelity, the Mercantile proceeds to lay before his readers what he calls the leading principles of this “new school of irreligionists.” I shall but briefly notice some of his most glaring misrepresentations. First, That we hold “such a thing as moral truth cannot exist.” This is a lie, unless some very novel meaning is attached to the term, MORAL TRUTH.
Second, “that there is no proof that the soul is immaterial, or that it will survive the body.” We say there is no soul, and challenge all the world to adduce any evidence of the existence of such a thing.
Third, “They deny wholly the doctrine of free moral agency, and the consequent doctrine of responsibility, so that there is no such thing as virtue,—no such thing as crime.” We say there are no effects without causes, either without the head or within, and that one effect as necessarily follows its cause as another. Consequently, man, philosophically speaking, is no more a free agent than a time piece, yet we say, and consistently too, that, morally speaking man is responsible to man for his actions. As to the words virtue and crime, we give them an obvious and certain meaning. We say virtue consists in virtuous conduct or actions, and that virtuous actions are such as are conducive to our own happiness or that of others. Vice or crime we give the opposite meaning. We do NOT say that, “in our actions we ought to be governed by no motive but the desire of doing what will be most useful of agreeable to ourselves individually.” This is but another willful lie.
We do not say “that commerce ought to be DESTROYED; and only a VERY FEW of us hold “that property ought to be equally divided.”
As to “promiscuous intercourse,” so much harped upon by our opponents, as they have said ten times more about it than we have, I, of a truth, begin to believe it accords with their feelings, and that on this account their aim is to make people believe that many enlightened and distinguished characters approve of it. And as to the Slander cast upon the once Miss Frances Wright, while it can do us no harm, it is that which has mostly led me to “answer a fool according to his folly,” in the style of this communication.
C.K.
The Lady of the Rotunda
09/28/2011 09:55 Category: Freethinkers
Superstition, I shall define to be the invention of the human imagination, where demonstration is not to be had, and where a system of alleged causes, falling back into a general first cause, is made of the fanciful idea of a personification of supposed principles.
First Discourse of the Lady of the Rotunda.
The task which I propose to perform, I am told, has no precedent in this country; so I have great need of craving your indulgent attention and most gentle criticism.
A woman stands before you who has been educated and practiced in all the severity of religious discipline, awakened to the principles of reason but as yesterday, seeking on these boards a moral and a sweet revenge, for the outrage that has been committed on the majesty of that reason, and on the dignity of that truth, inasmuch as the barbaric administration of alleged law, that never had the consent of the people; of law, that has been made for the purpose, by the administrators of the law, has arrested the voices and imprisoned the persons of the two brave and talented men, who first made this building the temple of reason and truth, and who first essayed to teach the people of this country the practical importance and incalculable value of free and public oral discussion.
This, sirs, is my purpose; I appear before you to plead the cause of those injured men; to endeavor to reason before you as they reasoned before you; to follow their example, even if the sequel be a following them to a prison.
I have left a home, in a distant country, where comfort and even affluence surrounded me—a happy home, and the bosom of an affectionate and a happy family. I have left such a home, under the excitement which religious persecution has roused, to make this first and singular appearance before you, for a purpose, I trust that is second to none.
So much, by way of an introduction, where no introduction has been otherwise made. I come at once to the preliminaries of my present discourse.
Would you have from me a profession of faith?—You shall have it.
Faith, in its relation to superstition, I have none. But of faith, in the relation of the word to whatever is lovely, whatever is good, and whatever is true, whatever is morally binding and honorable, I flatter myself that I am rich, and of large possessions. At least, sirs, I submit this my faith to your most severe critical judgments.
But then, we are told, that they who have no faith in relation to superstition, are scoffers and scorners.
…This shall not be the seat of the scorner while it is in my hands, but the theatre of reason, of truth, and of free discussion; of an encouragement to every well expressed desire for mutual instruction.
…I purpose to speak, in my continued discourses, if this shall find favor with you, of superstitions and of reason, of tyranny and of liberty, of morals and of politics.
Of politics!—politics from a woman! Some will exclaim, yes, I will set before my sex the example of asserting an equality for them with their present lords and masters, and strive to teach all, yes all, that the undue submission, which constitutes slavery is honorable to none; while the mutual submission, which leads to mutual good, is to all alike dignified and honorable.
Superstition, I shall define to be the invention of the human imagination, where demonstration is not to be had, and where a system of alleged causes, falling back into a general first cause, is made of the fanciful idea of a personification of supposed principles…It would not be in vain, if man were superstitious enough to seek to make a paradise of the earth, instead of making his never-to-be-reached paradise of the conceits of his own brain. Help me sirs, in this mighty undertaking, and some of us may see that we have made the world the better for living in it.
The 15 June, 1832 Boston Investigator's excerpts from Eliza Sharples speech begin with Robert Dale Owen's description in column 2, and cover two columns. In the fifth column, there is a reprint from the Workingman’s Advocate, of an article covering RDO’s marriage to Mary Jane Robinson, including the text of their “protest” vows. Owen introduces Sharples (originally to readers of the New York Free Enquirer) with the following:
The Lady of the Rotunda.
New York, 11th May, 1832.
It needs not to repeat what every one admits, that this is an age prolific of interesting mental and moral phenomena; an age rich in prognostics of change and reform. The French Revolution, with the various novelties to which it has given birth (including the St. Simonian) is among the most marked of these. The growth of free opinion in this country is another; the boldness, sometimes verging on violence, of Richard Carlile and Robert Taylor is another; and the fact I am now about to detail is entitled to a place among the number.
A young unmarried English lady, said to be of a highly respectable and affluent family, and who conceals her name because her relations desire that it may not be published, has appeared in London, has hired “The Rotunda,” the same building where Taylor formerly lectured, delivers original lectures there twice every Sunday, and three times in the course of the week; and has commenced, on her own responsibility, a periodical entitled “The Isis.”
She delivered on the 29th January last her opening address, and repeated the same several times in the course of the ensuing week. Her lectured are thronged; how her periodical succeeds I have not heard.
…I am now about to leave this city for London, and hope, while there, to see this Lady of the Rotunda, if I can procure an introduction to her.—At all events, if her lectures are continued, I shall attend them; and “report progress,” as politicians say, to our readers.
The task which I propose to perform, I am told, has no precedent in this country; so I have great need of craving your indulgent attention and most gentle criticism.
A woman stands before you who has been educated and practiced in all the severity of religious discipline, awakened to the principles of reason but as yesterday, seeking on these boards a moral and a sweet revenge, for the outrage that has been committed on the majesty of that reason, and on the dignity of that truth, inasmuch as the barbaric administration of alleged law, that never had the consent of the people; of law, that has been made for the purpose, by the administrators of the law, has arrested the voices and imprisoned the persons of the two brave and talented men, who first made this building the temple of reason and truth, and who first essayed to teach the people of this country the practical importance and incalculable value of free and public oral discussion.
This, sirs, is my purpose; I appear before you to plead the cause of those injured men; to endeavor to reason before you as they reasoned before you; to follow their example, even if the sequel be a following them to a prison.
I have left a home, in a distant country, where comfort and even affluence surrounded me—a happy home, and the bosom of an affectionate and a happy family. I have left such a home, under the excitement which religious persecution has roused, to make this first and singular appearance before you, for a purpose, I trust that is second to none.
So much, by way of an introduction, where no introduction has been otherwise made. I come at once to the preliminaries of my present discourse.
Would you have from me a profession of faith?—You shall have it.
Faith, in its relation to superstition, I have none. But of faith, in the relation of the word to whatever is lovely, whatever is good, and whatever is true, whatever is morally binding and honorable, I flatter myself that I am rich, and of large possessions. At least, sirs, I submit this my faith to your most severe critical judgments.
But then, we are told, that they who have no faith in relation to superstition, are scoffers and scorners.
…This shall not be the seat of the scorner while it is in my hands, but the theatre of reason, of truth, and of free discussion; of an encouragement to every well expressed desire for mutual instruction.
…I purpose to speak, in my continued discourses, if this shall find favor with you, of superstitions and of reason, of tyranny and of liberty, of morals and of politics.
Of politics!—politics from a woman! Some will exclaim, yes, I will set before my sex the example of asserting an equality for them with their present lords and masters, and strive to teach all, yes all, that the undue submission, which constitutes slavery is honorable to none; while the mutual submission, which leads to mutual good, is to all alike dignified and honorable.
Superstition, I shall define to be the invention of the human imagination, where demonstration is not to be had, and where a system of alleged causes, falling back into a general first cause, is made of the fanciful idea of a personification of supposed principles…It would not be in vain, if man were superstitious enough to seek to make a paradise of the earth, instead of making his never-to-be-reached paradise of the conceits of his own brain. Help me sirs, in this mighty undertaking, and some of us may see that we have made the world the better for living in it.
The Lady of the Rotunda.
New York, 11th May, 1832.
It needs not to repeat what every one admits, that this is an age prolific of interesting mental and moral phenomena; an age rich in prognostics of change and reform. The French Revolution, with the various novelties to which it has given birth (including the St. Simonian) is among the most marked of these. The growth of free opinion in this country is another; the boldness, sometimes verging on violence, of Richard Carlile and Robert Taylor is another; and the fact I am now about to detail is entitled to a place among the number.
A young unmarried English lady, said to be of a highly respectable and affluent family, and who conceals her name because her relations desire that it may not be published, has appeared in London, has hired “The Rotunda,” the same building where Taylor formerly lectured, delivers original lectures there twice every Sunday, and three times in the course of the week; and has commenced, on her own responsibility, a periodical entitled “The Isis.”
She delivered on the 29th January last her opening address, and repeated the same several times in the course of the ensuing week. Her lectured are thronged; how her periodical succeeds I have not heard.
…I am now about to leave this city for London, and hope, while there, to see this Lady of the Rotunda, if I can procure an introduction to her.—At all events, if her lectures are continued, I shall attend them; and “report progress,” as politicians say, to our readers.
Hints to Heretics
09/27/2011 09:51 Category: Freethinkers
Dare to be honest...
This is going to be a place where I post (daily, I hope) excerpts from things written by freethinkers throughout history. In no specific order. The first one, because I happened to find this one just now, while looking at the Boston Investigator (I've never really heard of him before) is this from Horace Seaver, editor of the Investigator after Abner Kneeland:
Hints to Heretics
Be courageous. Dare to be honest, just, magnanimous, true to your country, to yourselves, to the world. Dare to do to others as you would have them do to you. Most men are cowards. They are afraid to speak and to act when duty calls, and as duty requires. Few men will suffer themselves to be called cowards; and yet they betray their cowardice by the very course they take to resent the insult. A man may intrepidly face the cannon’s mouth, and be an arrant coward after all.
There is a higher, a nobler courage, than was ever displayed in the heat of battle, or on the field of carnage. There is a moral courage, which enables a man to triumph over foes more formidable than were ever marshalled by any Caesar. A courage which impels him to do his duty, to hold fast his integrity, to maintain a conscience void of offence, at every hazard and sacrifice, in defiance of the world. Such is the courage that sustains every good man, amidst the temptations, allurements, horrors, conflicts, opposition, ridicule, malice, cruelty, or persecution, which beset and threaten him at every stage of his progress through life.
Horace Seaver (1810-1889), Occasional Thoughts of Horace Seaver. From Fifty Years of Free Thinking. Selected from the Boston Investigator, 1888.
So who was Seaver? A New York Times obituary, dated 22 August 1889, reads:
“OBITUARY NOTES. Horace Seaver, editor of the Investigator, died yesterday afternoon in Boston. He was born in Boston in 1810, and his connection with the Investigator dates from 1837, when he contributed to that paper a series of articles that attracted wide attention. In 1838 he became editor of the paper and Josiah P. Mendum proprietor, a partnership which had existed uninterruptedly for fifty-one years. Mr. Seaver devoted a great deal of time to lecturing, his chief theme being "Free Thought." He was a great anti-slavery man, and was a warm friend of Wendell Phillips, Parker Pillsbury, and William Lloyd Garrison.”
This is going to be a place where I post (daily, I hope) excerpts from things written by freethinkers throughout history. In no specific order. The first one, because I happened to find this one just now, while looking at the Boston Investigator (I've never really heard of him before) is this from Horace Seaver, editor of the Investigator after Abner Kneeland:
Hints to Heretics
Be courageous. Dare to be honest, just, magnanimous, true to your country, to yourselves, to the world. Dare to do to others as you would have them do to you. Most men are cowards. They are afraid to speak and to act when duty calls, and as duty requires. Few men will suffer themselves to be called cowards; and yet they betray their cowardice by the very course they take to resent the insult. A man may intrepidly face the cannon’s mouth, and be an arrant coward after all.
There is a higher, a nobler courage, than was ever displayed in the heat of battle, or on the field of carnage. There is a moral courage, which enables a man to triumph over foes more formidable than were ever marshalled by any Caesar. A courage which impels him to do his duty, to hold fast his integrity, to maintain a conscience void of offence, at every hazard and sacrifice, in defiance of the world. Such is the courage that sustains every good man, amidst the temptations, allurements, horrors, conflicts, opposition, ridicule, malice, cruelty, or persecution, which beset and threaten him at every stage of his progress through life.
Horace Seaver (1810-1889), Occasional Thoughts of Horace Seaver. From Fifty Years of Free Thinking. Selected from the Boston Investigator, 1888.
“OBITUARY NOTES. Horace Seaver, editor of the Investigator, died yesterday afternoon in Boston. He was born in Boston in 1810, and his connection with the Investigator dates from 1837, when he contributed to that paper a series of articles that attracted wide attention. In 1838 he became editor of the paper and Josiah P. Mendum proprietor, a partnership which had existed uninterruptedly for fifty-one years. Mr. Seaver devoted a great deal of time to lecturing, his chief theme being "Free Thought." He was a great anti-slavery man, and was a warm friend of Wendell Phillips, Parker Pillsbury, and William Lloyd Garrison.”
Sugar and Empire
09/23/2011 10:26
Sugar Barons: Family, Corruption, Empire, and War in the West Indies, by Matthew Parker, 2011.
I’ve listened to the first half of the audible audiobook version of this, on my drives to and from work. I’m writing about a commodity and about families, so I was very curious. And some of my guys begin their American careers in the “West India Trade,” out of Middletown CT, so I thought I might pick up some data or ideas. And I’ve learned a lot about the chronology of Caribbean settlement, the development of the sugar industry, and even the growth of buccaneering and piracy (which sheds an interesting light on Christopher Hill’s articles about the New Model Army and pirates).
But there’s actually much less about the people than I had hoped. The book opens with a description of the voyage to the Indies, from the perspective of a more-or-less common person who wrote a memoir. But the story moves quickly to the people who’d be central in any traditional political/military history from the last century. The first half, at least, is a pretty standard history in that sense: the main action involves the building of the British sugar empire in Barbados, the Leeward Islands, and Jamaica. There are several people the story revolves around for a while: James Drax, his son Henry, Peter Beckford, Christopher Codrington. They all seem like very interesting characters, but Parker doesn’t give them much room to move around in. For the most part, the story moves quickly from battle to battle, recounting the major events that shaped the development of the British West Indies.
And it really is the British West Indies. Although the Spanish and French are present as antagonists, there’s very little said about their activities or points of view. Even where a description of their efforts at cultivating sugar could have helped contextualize the scope and style of British sugar production, it’s largely missing. As is any discussion or the demand side or the cultural impact of sugar, beyond a few lines describing changes in per capita consumption over time.
I’m not sure if I’m going to listen to the second, eight-hour half of this audiobook. I’d really like to know whether he gets around to the impact of sugar and the Caribbean on the development of New England. So I’ll probably listen to the rest. These are really interesting characters, and I think it would be a really interesting (and difficult) project, to try to render them completely. Parker sort-of shies away from mentioning slavery and general debauchery when he’s talking about his “heroes” in the story. Not that he tries to whitewash them — they’re not even really “heroes” in the standard sense: they’re just the central characters of a chapter or two, that the story hangs on or close to. But it would be interesting to dig deeper into some of these guys, and see them more completely. Slavery is clearly one of the big elephants in the room, but probably not the only one. The younger Christopher Codrington was a fellow of All Souls, Oxford, who hung around with the lights of London. But he was also a bloodthirsty sod who joined William III’s army in the Netherlands just for the joy of battle. These guys are very complicated, and I would have been really interested in seeing deeper into their complex, self-contradictory personalities.
But that’s my interest, which isn’t necessarily shared by all. The real question for me is, how will I do it? The scope of Parker’s story precludes there being one character who could carry it — but maybe a family could have done the job. In my story, I’m also covering too much time to write it as one person’s story, so I’m trying to write it as the story of three families. What techniques can I use to foreground the personal stories of my characters, without losing the historical context and the narrative thread? Personal motivations, even personal quirks and idiosyncrasies, might shed a different light on the story and on the times. Does that lead to “too much” contingency? I guess we’ll see…
I’ve listened to the first half of the audible audiobook version of this, on my drives to and from work. I’m writing about a commodity and about families, so I was very curious. And some of my guys begin their American careers in the “West India Trade,” out of Middletown CT, so I thought I might pick up some data or ideas. And I’ve learned a lot about the chronology of Caribbean settlement, the development of the sugar industry, and even the growth of buccaneering and piracy (which sheds an interesting light on Christopher Hill’s articles about the New Model Army and pirates).
And it really is the British West Indies. Although the Spanish and French are present as antagonists, there’s very little said about their activities or points of view. Even where a description of their efforts at cultivating sugar could have helped contextualize the scope and style of British sugar production, it’s largely missing. As is any discussion or the demand side or the cultural impact of sugar, beyond a few lines describing changes in per capita consumption over time.
I’m not sure if I’m going to listen to the second, eight-hour half of this audiobook. I’d really like to know whether he gets around to the impact of sugar and the Caribbean on the development of New England. So I’ll probably listen to the rest. These are really interesting characters, and I think it would be a really interesting (and difficult) project, to try to render them completely. Parker sort-of shies away from mentioning slavery and general debauchery when he’s talking about his “heroes” in the story. Not that he tries to whitewash them — they’re not even really “heroes” in the standard sense: they’re just the central characters of a chapter or two, that the story hangs on or close to. But it would be interesting to dig deeper into some of these guys, and see them more completely. Slavery is clearly one of the big elephants in the room, but probably not the only one. The younger Christopher Codrington was a fellow of All Souls, Oxford, who hung around with the lights of London. But he was also a bloodthirsty sod who joined William III’s army in the Netherlands just for the joy of battle. These guys are very complicated, and I would have been really interested in seeing deeper into their complex, self-contradictory personalities.
But that’s my interest, which isn’t necessarily shared by all. The real question for me is, how will I do it? The scope of Parker’s story precludes there being one character who could carry it — but maybe a family could have done the job. In my story, I’m also covering too much time to write it as one person’s story, so I’m trying to write it as the story of three families. What techniques can I use to foreground the personal stories of my characters, without losing the historical context and the narrative thread? Personal motivations, even personal quirks and idiosyncrasies, might shed a different light on the story and on the times. Does that lead to “too much” contingency? I guess we’ll see…
I'll still read Reamde
09/21/2011 09:55
There are very few authors whose new books I’ll buy sight unseen, in hopes they’re as good as my favorites. Neal Stephenson is one. Snow Crash and The Diamond Age are so full of great material, that even where they fail, they succeed. And the Baroque Cycle is why I went into history. Some of his others didn’t really click for me at the same level. And sometimes people get sort-of mired in the conventions of the genre -- which is another way of saying there didn’t have to be so much about masturbation in Cryptonomicon.
But if I was Stephenson, I’d be pretty unhappy about the Kirkus review of his new book Reamde, which came out yesterday (and I downloaded yesterday afternoon to my Kindle). The reviewer apparently thinks s/he is way too evolved to be reviewing speculative fiction. “Eek!”? Note to self: don’t ever let Kirkus review any of my work. I mean, it’s possible the book is just bad, I guess (I’ve only read the first two pages). But then, say so! Don’t go all snide and sarcastic. If you think the plot is nothing more than a first person shooter, say so. If you think the characters are one dimensional or “give good Muslims a bad name,” then take your job seriously and warn potential readers. And really, is it necessary to call attention to nepotism? Is that all you’ve got to say?
I hope I like Reamde. After reading this review, I know nothing more about it than I did before. It’s still by Neal Stephenson. Who’s Kirkus?
But if I was Stephenson, I’d be pretty unhappy about the Kirkus review of his new book Reamde, which came out yesterday (and I downloaded yesterday afternoon to my Kindle). The reviewer apparently thinks s/he is way too evolved to be reviewing speculative fiction. “Eek!”? Note to self: don’t ever let Kirkus review any of my work. I mean, it’s possible the book is just bad, I guess (I’ve only read the first two pages). But then, say so! Don’t go all snide and sarcastic. If you think the plot is nothing more than a first person shooter, say so. If you think the characters are one dimensional or “give good Muslims a bad name,” then take your job seriously and warn potential readers. And really, is it necessary to call attention to nepotism? Is that all you’ve got to say?
I hope I like Reamde. After reading this review, I know nothing more about it than I did before. It’s still by Neal Stephenson. Who’s Kirkus?
