There is a romance in the title of this chapter, should some one arise to write it It was Lord Brougham who first spoke of Harriet Martineau as the "deaf girl of Norwich," which does more than any other words written about her to suggest a great disadvantage under which she accomplished more than any other woman ever attempted. The phrase quoted occurs in one of those letters which show that kindly feeling and genuine interest in progress was natural to Lord Brougham, though obscured by the turbulence of his later life. He first brought Miss Martineau into notice. He wrote: "There is at Norwich a deaf girl, who is doing more good than any man in the country. Last year she (Harriet Martineau) called upon me several times, and I was struck with such marks of energy and resolution in her, which I thought must command success in some line or other of life." If the reader can realise what deafness means, he will know how great was her disablement Asking questions is the surest way of acquiring knowledge, or verifying it. Harriet Martineau was discouraged in asking questions, because she could not hear the answers, unless given through a speaking-tube, which imposed efforts on her friends she was loath to subject them to. She could hear no great singer, actor, or orator. These noble sources of pleasure and ideas were denied to her. She could take no part in public meetings or conferences, save those of which the business was foreknown to her. Then she was dependent upon some friend who indicated to her the time when she might intervene. Not hearing conversation, she could only learn indirectly what had gone before. Nor was it always possible to hear accurately, or interpret what was told to her. How, under these disadvantages, she acquired her large knowledge, her wonderful judgment of character, her unrivalled mastery of political questions of the day—which made her the greatest political woman in English history—proves the possibility of seemingly impossible things. She wrote some twenty small volumes of "Tales of Political Economy," which were as eagerly looked forward to as the small volumes in which Sterne's "Tristram Shandy" appeared, or Dickens's "Pickwick Papers." James Mill and Charles Buller told her it was impossible to make the "Dismal Science" entertaining, but she did it, and she was the first who did it. She translated Comte's "Positive Philosophy" so well that Comte had it retranslated from English into French, as being better than his own work.
In 1852-3 Harriet Martineau invited me to visit her at Ambleside, saying, "I should like a good long conversation with you on the Abolitionists and American slavery, and also on the intolerable iniquities of the Leader?" What they were I do not recall—probably Copperheadism* in one of the editors, which she could sharply detect.
     * "Copperhead" was the name of a venomous American snake,
     which gave no warning of its approach. The slavery
     Copperhead during the Civil War proclaimed his attachment to
     the union, and argued against it. There are Copperheads in
     every movement.
On Sunday, the day after my arrival, she drove me to Wordsworth's house and other places of interest. At my request she extended the drive to Coniston Water, some miles away, and on to Brantwood, the place Mr. Ruskin afterwards bought of Mr. Joseph Cowen, who held a mortgage of ￡7,000 upon it. Brantwood was then the residence of W. J. Linton, and Col. Stolzman and his wife were inmates. The Colonel was an old Polish officer, who, when a young man, was present at Fontainebleau, when Napoleon took leave of his Old Guard. Miss Martineau's quick eye took in at a glance the surroundings of the dwelling, and she explained to Mrs. Linton, who looked delicate, what should be done to render the house healthier, as the rains falling on the hill behind made the undrained foundation damp. Miss Martineau had an instinct of domesticity.
I never knew a more womanly woman. Her life was an answer to those who think that active interest in public affairs is incompatible with household affection. After my return home she wrote: "I enjoyed your visit very much; and I hope you will come as often as you conveniently can. It will be a great benefit, as well as pleasure to me. My good girls, Caroline and Elizabeth, send you respectful thanks for your remembrance of them. I, too, am obliged by your thoughtfulness of them. But let this be once for all. You will come again, I hope; and my girls will enjoy being hospitable, in their own way, to one whom I had led them to respect as they do you"—mentionable as showing the tact, judgment, independence, and friendliness of the hostess to visitors and those of her household.
She aided the diffusion of opinions she thought ought to have a hearing without altogether coinciding with them. She sent ￡10 towards the establishment of the Fleet Street House. She took in the Reasoned sending a double subscription. Many editors will appreciate so excellent an example. Her interest in the Reasoner was less in the subjects discussed, than in its endeavour to maintain in controversy that fairness to adversaries, which we should have wished (but did not even expect) to be shown towards ourselves.
Of the ￡500 given by Mr. Loombs in aid of her translation of Comte's great work, she arranged to reserve ￡150 for Comte, whose rights, as author, she considered ought to be respected. Many unrequited authors would be glad if all translators held the same opinion.
In 1854-5 she was told by her physicians that she had heart disease, which might end her life any day. I mentioned to Professor Francis William Newman the jeopardy she was said to be in. At times restoratives had to be administered before she could be brought down to dinner. Mr. Newman desired me to tell her that he had had, some years previously, heart trouble. All at once a shock came as though a pistol had been discharged in his brain, and he expected............