COURTESY AND CONTROVERSY.
In a kindly and reasonable letter to the Times, the Rev. J. M. Capes, a Roman Catholic clergyman, recommends controversialists, both those of his own creed, and Protestants, to conduct their discussions with moderation and decency. This excellent advice, we are sure, will be followed by all disputants of either sect who are arguing for truth. Dr. Cumming approves of it. So doubtless will Dr. Newman. Nay, perhaps one, or two, or even three more, on each side, will adopt the judicious and amiable suggestion of Mr. Capes.
But as the object of the great majority of polemics is not truth but triumph, the probability is that they will not confine themselves to unadorned logic, but like a sort of candidates at the theological hustings, will continue to bandy aspersions, as heretofore, and cover one another with all the ridicule they can, each with the view of bringing his adversary into contempt and odium with the British Public.
Moreover, there is a stake at issue—no offence either to Rome or Geneva; liberty of thought, speech, and writing; freedom, political and social. The question is, whether Britons shall be subjugated to a priesthood and a foreign power—and not only that, but whether, by receiving the religion of Rome, we may not engage ourselves to accept the institutions of Naples. Which question it is not likely that Britons will discuss dispassionately; and moderation may be inculcated to those who are at issue upon it with about as much hope as gentleness and forbearance may be preached to the belligerents in Moldo-Wallachia.
Mr. Capes complains of "a certain class of objects" of Roman Catholic faith and affection being "made the subjects of scorn, ridicule, and reviling." Very bad taste this on the part of Protestant buffoons. But since, if the objects alluded to are worthy of reverence, any insult that may be offered to them can hurt nobody but the scoffer, surely such bad taste ought not to annoy Mr. Capes further than by exciting in his mind a painful anxiety for the fate of those who are guilty of it.
Let Mr. Capes consider what manner of persons those are who are vexed by having their persuasions derided. They are not those who believe that two and two make four; no, but those who believe that two and two make something else. They are those who believe what Mr. Capes believes; and those who believe themselves to be Kings or Deities.
Alluding to a particular tenet, which to Protestants appears contrary to common sense, Mr. Capes says—
"Let not such a doctrine be made the subject for jesting, scoffing, contemptuous sneers, or those still more revolting attempts at convincing us that we are fools, which the followers of Exeter Hall occasionally adopt."
It seems strange that the attempt to convince Mr. Capes that he is a fool should be still more revolting to him than the derision of what he esteems most holy. But, not to dwell on this point, how, we may ask, if a dogma is absurd, is it possible to convince a man that it is so without at the same time convincing him that he is a fool for believing it? To use a rather West British form of speech, we are sure that any wise man who differs from Mr. Capes would be much obliged to that reverend gentleman for proving to him that, in respect of that difference, he was a fool.