“Ah! by the way, I begin to realize why our friend Clare never argues,” said the doctor. “It is because, as Father McClosky says, ‘he only convinces.’”
“In this country,” observed Mr. Clare gravely, “we don’t say, ‘I am convinced,’ but ‘I am satisfied;’ and we are right. Argument may convince, that is, bind a man so that he cannot reply; satisfaction gives him enough light to see the matter as it is for himself. Therefore, while I never argue, I do sometimes try to satisfy.”
“I’m not so sure about your etymology,” replied the doctor, “but we won’t split hairs. I want room for a good knockdown blow. When you say ‘light enough to see the matter as it is,’ do you mean as I see it is, or as you see it is, or as it is in itself?”
“The ‘Thing-in-itself’?” Mr. Clare hesitated for a moment, then his lurking smile became a broad laugh. “I was awfully tempted,” he said; “it was on the end of my tongue to say that ‘you Kant do it, you know,’ but I won’t. I resist the temptation, and stand firm in the pride of virtue.”
“But you don’t answer my question,” said the doctor, trying hard not to smile.
“I will, though, in the Irish fashion, by asking another. Why do you want to see?”
“That depends on what I want to see.”
“Well, take, for instance, the question lately under discussion. Why did you wish to see the rights of that?”
“Because it was a bone of contention, a thorn in the flesh, the very devil himself buffeting me in person, and I wanted to stop the whole business.”
“That is, it was a personal matter, requiring immediate action! Exactly so. Now, tell me, are you convinced as to the ownership of that money?”