Everyone then, whatever be his religious, philosophical, political, or social principles, must be intolerant of principles which are opposed to his own. Tolerance, however, claims a place in matters of opinion. But must not one think another's opinions false if they are opposed to his own? Certainly; but, being only opinions, one has no right to claim a monopoly of certainty for one's own as against those of others. Opinions have no claim to the privilege of principles. And what is true in theory of opinions holds in practice in matters of principle. One cannot, it is true, be tolerant of principles opposed to his own; but others must not suffer at his hands because they own principles which are not his. Everyone must have credit for honesty, since one cannot fathom the depths of another's conscience. The Catholic Church, not to speak of its individual members, disowns such a pretension as that; Ecclesia non judicat de internis is a maxim in Catholic theology. Thus, Catholic teaching, whilst it binds Catholics to be intolerant of principles and doctrines which it condemns, obliges them also to be tolerant of those who hold those principles and doctrines for the sake of the sincerity which it presumes in those who hold them. If we compare this tolerance, imposed as a duty by Catholic teaching, with the unlimited tolerance professed by some who assert the autonomy of individual reason, we shall find a contrast between, for instance, the noble tolerance of St. Francis de Sales and the bigotry of Voltaire. They were fellow countrymen. Each had great natural gifts, mental acquirements, and uncommon literary power. St. Francis lived a century before Voltaire, and, therefore, nearer to what would now be called those traditions [pg 431] of bigotry from which Voltaire helped so much to set us free. Yet the latter let his pen splutter on all who dared to differ from him; the former in all his controversies dressed his arguments with honey instead of vinegar. That charity which disposes one to see good faith and honesty of purpose in persons in spite of their errors, is the only true source whence the spirit of toleration must flow into civil society. Toleration coming from any other source can give no guarantee of permanence; for it begins with expediency, and ends with it. But the toleration which separates a man's sincerity from his possible errors, and which in civil life ignores the latter for the sake of the former, is founded on principle, and is above expediency or the changing combination of human affairs.
The sincerity of a man who professes tolerance of principles which he believes to be false is to be suspected; he should be taken as one who is practically indifferent to truth or error. One can rely on the fidelity of him who professes tolerance of others, in spite of some personal views of theirs which he abhors, because of the sincerity with which, as he presumes, they entertain those views. But if they should so obtrude those views into public life as to affect the rights of him who repudiates them, it becomes another matter. That would be an aggression on the civil rights of others; and no person should let himself be made a victim in the name of toleration.
Now, it is a significant fact that Catholic Maryland, before American Independence came, was the one State in America in which no person had to suffer civil disabilities for conscience sake. Members of Protestant sects who had to fly from the intolerance of more powerful Protestant sects in New England States [pg 432] always found toleration and a home there. Bancroft, the Protestant historian of the United States, writes of Maryland:
“Its history is the history of benevolence, gratitude, and toleration. The Catholics who were oppressed by the laws of England were sure to find a peaceful asylum in the quiet harbours of the Chesapeake, and there, too, Protestants were sheltered from Protestant intolerance.”
It is an equally significant fact that later on the non-Catholics of Maryland, in the day of their power, placed grievous disabilities on the children of those Catholics who had given their exiled fathers a refuge in their hour of need.
I will now consider how far those principles which I have set forth have found application in Ireland. I know no country where tolerance and intolerance are more talked of than there. It is sometimes good to talk tolerance, but it is always better to practise it. The word is not heard so much from Irish Catholics. Their relation to it is that they are constantly engaged in defending themselves from charges of intolerance poured out upon them from the vantage ground of ascendency. I doubt whether it is worth while to assure our accusers that those charges are not deserved. Those who call us intolerant in spite of our conduct will discard our assurance in spite of our word. He who is in the habit of calling his neighbour intolerant is not likely to trust him as truthful. There are in every race and class individuals of an intolerant spirit. It has always been so, and will always be so. Those exceptions will remain in spite of the highest principles of a religion, a race, or a class. The spirit of intolerance will be found in individuals within a class, as well as between classes; and in actual life society subdivides itself down to the units. Religion has been for the [pg 433] past few centuries the great cleavage line along which the spirit of intolerance is supposed to play in the distribution of privileges and power in civil life in Ireland. How are we to determine on which side tolerance and intolerance lie? Not certainly by witnesses on either side giving testimony in their own favour. We had better let facts speak then; or, if we accept the evidence of persons, we should hear what they have to say only of those of the other side.
The Synod of Kilkenny met in May, 1642. It was held by the Catholic Bishops of Ireland in connection with the Kilkenny Confederation. That Confederation was National and Catholic; part of its purpose was to support King Charles against those who sought to dethrone him. He did not personally deserve much sympathy from the Irish Catholics; nevertheless, who were the Loyalists then? Ireland was in a state of war, and the rebels were not the Catholics. Now the 18th Decree of the Synod of Kilkenny is as follows:
“Wee ordaine and decree that all and every such as from the beginning of this present warre have invaded the possessions or goods, as well moveable as unmoveable, spirituall or temporal, of any Catholic whether Irish or English, or also of any Irish Protestant being not adversaries of this cause, and doe detaine any such goods, shall be excommunicated, as by this present Decree wee doe excommunicate them, if admonished they do not amend, &c.”
That Decree speaks for itself; it protects Protestants equally with Catholics. The “Lawes and Orders of Warre,” issued by Castlehaven the following year, and the conduct of the Confederates throughout, show the same spirit of toleration which is expressed in the Decree of the Bishops.
Another test of tolerance came with the restored power of Irish Catholics half a century later. How did they use their opportunity? Lecky knew it as [pg 434] well as anyone of his time; he was moreover out of sympathy with the religious and national ideals of the Irish Catholics. Now Lecky, referring to deeds of violence which took place in Ireland, writes (“History of Ireland in the Eighteenth Century,” Vol. I., pp. 408, 409):