In the repeal of the Corn Laws he always had in mind the welfare of his own townsmen, who, he said, "were paying in 1841 £150,000 more for food than they did in 1835," and every town in the country in a similar proportion. He constantly sought opportunities of generosity which could never be requited, nor even acknowledged, as he left no clue to the giver. When in London, he would, two or three years in succession, call in Fleet Street at my publishing house—then aiding in the repeal of the taxes on knowledge and defending the freedom of reasoned opinion—and leave £10, bearing the simple inscription, "From T.T." Several years elapsed before it was known whose name the initials represented. All this was so unlike the popular conception of a political economist, that such incidents deserve to be recorded. Workmen whose views he did not share would invite lecturers to the town, whom he would sometimes entertain, and judging that their remuneration would be scant, he would add £5 on their departure to cover their expenses. Thinking that Huxley might need rest which his means might not allow, Thomasson offered to defray the cost of six months' travel abroad with his family. It was not convenient to the Professor to act upon the offer. At Thomasson's death a note was found among his papers, saying, "Send Huxley £1,000," which his son, afterwards member for Bolton, did in his father's name.
Thomasson was not one of those who strongly wish improvement, but feebly will it. He willed what he wished, and gave his voice and fortune to advance it. He was not a foolish philanthropist, with emotion without wisdom; his aid was never aimless, but given discerningly to reward or aid others who rendered public service. His merit was like circumstantial evidence—if special acts did not exceed those of some other men, the accumulated instances made a record which few have excelled.
That was the character of a real "Manchester man"—on whom Charles Kingsley poured out the vitriolic vials of his holy wrath. Yet Kingsley had noble qualities—far above those with which the country clergyman is usually credited. It requires discrimination to speak of men of the "Manchester School" as persons—
"Who have only to close their eyes,
Be selfish, cold, and wise,
And they never need to know
How the workers' children grow,
And live out only half their time."
Thomasson did know this—wished to know this—took trouble to know it—and gave both thought and fortune to make their lot better. Thomas Bayley Potter was of that class, which includes Manchester careers worth remembering.
CHAPTER XIV. HARRIET MARTINEAU, THE DEAF GIRL OF NORWICH
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."