BYGONES WORTH REMEMBERING Volume I

PREFACE

If the preface of a book be a plea to the reader, its force must lie in
the aims of the author. In the following pages his main aim has been
to be of service to somebody. That is a principle, which, amid the
ravelment, perplexity, and entanglements of the world, always finds a
pathway open. Such a principle is as an All-Seeing Eye, to which he who
acknowledges it, is amenable, since it makes plain to him the devious,
time-serving byways he should avoid.

The writer has no interest, no taste, no trust, save in definite,
verifiable ideas. His aim has been to keep clear of the Sin of
Pretension, which consists in declaring, or assuming to be true, that
which the writer or speaker does not know to be true. What errors
negligence of this rule has bred! What misdirection it has perpetuated!
Into how many labyrinths, where truth was not to be found, has it led
men! What can be more useful, or holier, than inciting the reader to
beware of pretension in speech, in morals, in politics, and in piety?
To keep as clear as possible of this universal sin may serve many and
mislead none.

Professor Jowett has told us that "where Inquiry is denied at the door,
Doubt gets in at the window." This is the way it came to the writer
of this preface, and accounts for a certain liberty of expression the
reader may meet with, if he ventures further into these pages.

A sentence of Mr. Allen Upward will sufficiently describe the spirit
of this book: "Let us try to tolerate each other instead of trying to
convert each other." The author disclaims belonging to that class who
have "great expectations," which are as vain in literature as in life.
The utmost the author looks forward to is that semi-friendly applause
which is accorded to a platform speaker, not so much for any merit in
his oration as for his unexpected consideration for the audience by
concluding.

G. J. HOLYOAKE.




CHAPTER I. CONCERNING BYGONES PREFATORY

It was a saying of Dryden that "Anything, though ever so little, which
a man speaks of himself, in my opinion, is still too much." This depends
upon what a writer says. No man is required to give an opinion of
himself. Others will do that much better, if he will wait But if a
man may not speak of himself at all--reports of adventure, of personal
endeavour, or of service, will be largely impossible. To relate is not
to praise. The two things are quite distinct. Othello's imperishable
narrative of his love of Desdemona contained no eulogy of himself. A
story of observation, of experience, or of effort, or estimate of men
or of opinions, I may venture upon--is written for the reader alone. The
writer will be an entirely negligible quantity.

Lord Rosebery, who can make proverbs as well as cite them, lately
recalled one which has had great vogue in its day, namely, "Let bygones
be bygones." Life would be impossible or very unpleasant if every one
persisted in remembering what had better be forgotten. Proverbs are like
plants: they have a soil and climate under which alone they flourish.
Noble maxims have their limitations. Few have universal applicability.
If, for instance, the advice to "let bygones be bygones" be taken as
universally true, strange questions arise. Are mistakes never more to
teach us what to avoid? Are the errors of others no more to be a warning
to us? Is the Book of Experience to be closed? Is no more history to be
written? If so philosophy could no longer teach wisdom by examples, for
there would no longer be any examples to go upon. If all the mistakes
of mankind and all the miscalculations of circumstance be forgotten, the
warnings of the sages will die with them.

He who has debts, or loans not repaid, or promises not kept, or
contracts unfulfilled in his memory, had better keep them there until
he has made what reparation he can. The Bygone proverb does not apply to
him. There are other derelictions of greater gravity than fall under the
head of intellectual petty larceny, such as the conscious abandonment
of principle, or desertion of a just cause, which had better be kept in
mind for rectification.

If an admiral wrecked his ships, or a general lost his army, or a
statesman ruined his country, by flagrant want of judgment--ever so
conscientiously--it is well such things should be borne in mind by those
who may renew, by fresh appointment, these opportunities of calamity.
It would be to encourage incapacity were such bygones consigned to
oblivion. It may be useless to dwell upon "spilt milk," but further
employment of the spiller may not be prudent.