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tle odd that orthodox people, who believe
that the heretic will have to undergo an eternity of punishment--a
punishment so awful that a single hour of it would amply suffice
to avenge even a greater crime than the inability to believe--yet
regard that as insufficient, and do what they can on earth to give
the unbeliever a foretaste of the heavenly mercy to come. This little
story of the kind-hearted woman turned from her kindness by some
bigoted busybody is a mild case in point. Such people put a premium on
hypocrisy, and make the honest avowal of opinion a crime.

In so limited a business the loss of the chief customer was naturally a
serious matter; and although the young coal merchant struggled on for
some time longer, he was at last obliged to seek for other means of
earning his bread. For a little while he tried selling buckskin braces
on commission for Mr Thomas J. Barnes. Mr Barnes gave him a breakfast
at starting in the morning, and a dinner on his return at night, but as
he could only sell a limited quantity of the braces he grew ever poorer
and poorer.

Early in my father's troubles, Mrs Carlile and her children seem to
have taken a warm liking for him. He shared Julian Carlile's bed, and
there was always a place at the family table--such as it was--whenever
he wanted it. He read Hebrew with Mr James Savage, and in turn taught
Hebrew and Greek to Mr Thomas Barralet, then a young man of his own
age, his particular friend and companion at the time. With the Carlile
children he had lessons in French from Mr Harvey, an old friend of
Richard Carlile's. These "French" days, I can readily believe, were
altogether red-letter days. Usually, from motives of economy, the
_menu_ was made up on a strictly vegetarian basis; but when Mr Harvey
came he invariably invited himself to dinner, and having a little
more money than most of the others, he always provided the joint. Mr
Bradlaugh says in his "Autobiography" that while with the Carliles
he picked up "a little Hebrew and an imperfect smattering of other
tongues." Then and with subsequent study he acquired a good knowledge
of Hebrew; French he could read and speak (although with a somewhat
English accent) as easily as his own tongue; he knew a little Arabic
and Greek; and he could make his way through Latin, Italian, or
Spanish, though of German and its allied languages he knew nothing.

It was whilst under Mrs Carlile's roof my father fell in love with
Hypatia, Mrs Carlile's eldest daughter; and this fleeting attachment
of a boy and girl (or rather, I should say of a boy _for_ a girl, for
I know that Miss Carlile laughed at my father's pretensions, and there
is absolutely no reason to suppose that she felt anything more than a
sisterly affection for him) would hardly be worth alluding to had not a
whole scandal been built upon it. As far as I can trace, the vile and
iniquitous statements that have been made as to the relations between
my father and Hypatia Carlile--he between sixteen and seventeen, and
she a year or two younger--originated with the Rev. J. G. Packer and
the Rev. Brewin Grant; and since Mr Bradlaugh's death there have not
been wanting worthy disciples of these gentlemen, who have endeavoured
to revive these unwarranted accusations. Mrs Carlile was also vaguely
accused of making "a tool" of the lad, and involving him in money
transactions!----It is not easy to sympathise with the temper which
makes people so unable to understand the generous heart of a woman
who, herself desperately poor, could yet freely share the crumbs of
her poverty with one whose need was even greater than her own, and
give a home and family to the lad who had forfeited his own purely for
conscience' sake.

As after my father left home he was chiefly sheltered by the Carliles
at 1 Warner Place, I cannot imagine what Mr Headingley[4] means by
saying that Mr Bradlaugh was saved the anxiety of pursuit by his
parents. There was no necessity for pursuit; he was never at any time
far from home, and for the most part was in the same street, only a
few doors off. His parents knew where he was; he was often up and down
their street; and his sister Elizabeth would watch to see him pass, or
would loiter about near the Temperance Hall to catch a glimpse of her
brother. She was peremptorily forbidden to exchange a word with him;
and when they passed in the street, this loving brother and sister,
who were little more than children in years, would look at each other,
and not daring to speak, would both burst into tears. In spite of all
this I never heard my father say an unkind or bitter, or even a merely
reproachful word about either of his parents.

Having once begun to speak at the open-air meetings in Bonner's Fields,
he continued speaking there or at Victoria Park, Sunday after Sunday,
during the day, and in the evening at the Warner Place Temperance Hall,
or at a small Temperance Hall in Philpot Street. I am also informed
that he lectured on Temperance at the _Wheatsheaf_ in Mile End Road.
The _British Banner_ for July 31st, 1850, contains a letter signed
D. J. E., on "Victoria Park on the Lord's Day." The writer, after
dwelling at length upon the sinfulness and general iniquity of the
Sunday frequenters of the park, who, he affirmed, sauntered in "sinful
idleness" ... "willing listeners to the harangues of the Chartist, the
Socialist, the infidel and scoffer," goes on to say of my father:--

 "The stump orator for the real scoffing party is an overgrown boy of
 seventeen, with such an uninformed mind, that it is really amusing
 to see him sometimes stammering and spluttering on in his ignorant
 eloquence, making the most ludicrous mistakes, making all history to
 suit his private convenience, and often calling yea nay, and nay yea,
 when it will serve his purpose. He is styled by the frequenters of the
 park as the 'baby'; and I believe he is listened to very often more
 from real curiosity to know what one so young will say, than from any
 love the working men have to his scoffings."

[Footnote 4: Biography of Charles Bradlaugh.]

At the conclusion of a long letter, the writer says:--

 "It gives me great delight to state that the working men have no real
 sympathy with Infidels and scoffers, but would far sooner listen to
 an exposition of the Word of God. To give you an instance. One Sunday
 I opposed the 'baby' of whom I have spoken, and instantly there was
 a space cleared for us, and an immense ring formed around us. The
 Infidel spoke first, and I replied; he spoke again, and was in the
 midst of uttering some dreadful blasphemy, copied from Paine's 'Age of
 Reason,' when the people could suppress their indignation no longer,
 but uttered one loud cry of disapprobation. When silence had been
 obtained, I addressed to them again a few serious kind words, and told
 them that if they wish me to read to them the Word of God, I would do
 so; that if they wished me to pray with them, I would do so. Upon my
 saying this, nearly all the comp

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