{
  "schema": "tga.work.v1",
  "identifier": "dresden:vol-7:the-limitations-of-toleration",
  "slug": "the-limitations-of-toleration",
  "title": "The Limitations of Toleration",
  "subtitle": "Debate before the Nineteenth Century Club, New York, 1888.",
  "excerpt": "A three-cornered debate at the Metropolitan Opera House between Ingersoll, Frederic Coudert, and Governor Woodford — on whether toleration has, or ought to have, any limits at all.",
  "year": 1888,
  "volume": 7,
  "category": "Discussion",
  "author": {
    "name": "Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "wikidata": "Q360326",
    "viaf": "44331023"
  },
  "isPartOf": {
    "title": "The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "edition": "Dresden Edition",
    "publisher": "C. P. Farrell",
    "year": 1900
  },
  "license": "https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/",
  "url": "https://thegreatagnostic.com/works/the-limitations-of-toleration/",
  "wordCount": 9991,
  "body": "• A discussion between Col. Robert G. Ingersoll, Hon.\n    Frederic R. Coudert, Ex-Gov. Stewart L. Woodford, before the\n    Nineteenth Century Club of New York, at the Metropolitan\n    Opera House, May 8, 1888. The points for discussion, as\n    submitted in advance, were the following propositions:\n\nColonel Ingersoll's Opening.\n\nLadies, Mr. President and Gentlemen:\n\nI AM here to-night for the purpose of defending your right to differ\nwith me. I want to convince you that you are under no compulsion to\naccept my creed; that you are, so far as I am concerned, absolutely free\nto follow the torch of your reason according to your conscience; and I\nbelieve that you are civilized to that degree that you will extend to me\nthe right that you claim for yourselves.\n\nFirst. Thought is a necessary natural product—the result of what is\ncalled impressions made through the medium of the senses upon the brain,\nnot forgetting the Fact of heredity.\n\nSecond. No human being is accountable to any being-human or divine—for\nhis thoughts.\n\nThird. Human beings have a certain interest in the thoughts of each\nother, and one who undertakes to tell his thoughts should be honest.\n\nFourth. All have an equal right to express their thoughts upon all\nsubjects.\n\nFifth. For one man to say to another, \"I tolerate you,\" is an assumption\nof authority—not a disclaimer, but a waiver, of the right to persecute.\n\nSixth. Each man has the same right to express to the whole world his\nideas, that the rest of the world have to express their thoughts to him.\n\nCourtlandt Palmer, Esq., President of the Club, in introducing Mr.\nIngersoll, among other things said:\n\n\"The inspiration of the orator of the evening seems to be that of the\ngreat Victor Hugo, who uttered the august saying, 'There shall be no\nslavery of the mind.'\n\n\"When I was in Paris, about a year ago, I visited the tomb of Victor\nHugo. It was placed in a recess in the crypt of the Pantheon. Opposite\nit was the tomb of Jean Jacques Rousseau. Near by, in another recess, was\nthe memorial statue of Voltaire; and I felt, as I looked at these three\nmonuments, that had Colonel Ingersoll been born in France, and had he\npassed in his long life account, the acclaim of the liberal culture of\nFrance would have enlarged that trio into a quartette.\n\n\"Colonel Ingersoll has appeared in several important debates in print,\nnotably with Judge Jeremiah S. Black formerly Attorney-General of the\nUnited States: lately in the pages of The North American Review with the\nRev. Dr. Henry M. Field, and last but not least the Right Hon. William\nE Gladstone, England's greatest citizen, has taken up the cudgel against\nhim in behalf of his view of Orthodoxy To-night, I believe-for the first\ntime, the colonel has consented to appear in a colloquial discussion. I\nhave now the honor to introduce this distinguished orator.\"\n\nI admit, at the very threshold, that every human being thinks as he\nmust; and the first proposition really is, whether man has the right to\nthink. It will bear but little discussion, for the reason that no man\ncan control his thought. If you think you can, what are you going to\nthink to-morrow? What are you going to think next year? If you can\nabsolutely control your thought, can you stop thinking?\n\nThe question is, Has the will any power over the thought? What is\nthought? It is the result of nature—of the outer world—first upon the\nsenses—those impressions left upon the brain as pictures of things in\nthe outward world, and these pictures are transformed into, or produce,\nthought; and as long as the doors of the senses are open, thoughts will\nbe produced. Whoever looks at anything in nature, thinks. Whoever hears\nany sound—or any symphony—no matter what—thinks. Whoever looks upon\nthe sea, or on a star, or on a flower, or on the face of a fellow-man,\nthinks, and the result of that look is an absolute necessity. The\nthought produced will depend upon your brain, upon your experience, upon\nthe history of your life.\n\nOne who looks upon the sea, knowing that the one he loved the best had\nbeen devoured by its hungry waves, will have certain thoughts; and he\nwho sees it for the first time, will have different thoughts. In other\nwords, no two brains are alike; no two lives have been or are or ever\nwill be the same. Consequently, nature cannot produce the same effect\nupon any two brains, or upon any two hearts.\n\nThe only reason why we wish to exchange thoughts is that we are\ndifferent. If we were all the same, we would die dumb. No thought would\nbe expressed after we found that our thoughts were precisely alike. We\ndiffer—our thoughts are different. Therefore the commerce that we call\nconversation.\n\nBack of language is thought. Back of language is the desire to express\nour thought to another. This desire not only gave us language—this\ndesire has given us the libraries of the world. And not only the\nlibraries; this desire to express thought, to show to others the\nsplendid children of the brain, has written every book, formed every\nlanguage, painted every picture, and chiseled every statue—this desire\nto express our thought to others, to reap the harvest of the brain.\n\nIf, then, thought is a necessity, \"it follows as the night the day\"\nthat there is, there can be, no responsibility for thought to any being,\nhuman or divine.\n\nA camera contains a sensitive plate. The light flashes upon it, and the\nsensitive plate receives a picture. Is it in fault, is it responsible,\nfor the picture? So with the brain. An image is left on it, a picture\nis imprinted there. The plate may not be perfectly level—it may be too\nconcave, or too convex, and the picture may be a deformity; so with the\nbrain. But the man does not make his own brain, and the consequence is,\nif the picture is distorted it is not the fault of the brain.\n\nWe take then these two steps: first, thought is a necessity; and second,\nthe thought depends upon the brain.\n\nEach brain is a kind of field where nature sows with careless hands\nthe seeds of thought. Some brains are poor and barren fields, producing\nweeds and thorns, and some are like the tropic world where grow the palm\nand pine—children of the sun and soil.\n\nYou read Shakespeare. What do you get out of Shakespeare? All that your\nbrain is able to hold. It depends upon your brain. If you are great—if\nyou have been cultivated—if the wings of your imagination have been\nspread—if you have had great, free, and splendid thoughts—'r you have\nstood upon the edge of things—if you have had the courage to meet all\nthat can come—you get an immensity from Shakespeare. If you have lived\nnobly—if you have loved with every drop of your blood and every fibre\nof your being—if you have suffered—if you have enjoyed—then you get\nan immensity from Shakespeare. But if you have lived a poor, little,\nmean, wasted, barren, weedy life—you get very little from that immortal\nman.\n\nSo it is from every source in nature—what you get depends upon what you\nare.\n\nTake then the second step. If thought is a necessity, there can be\nno responsibility for thought. And why has man ever believed that his\nfellow-man was responsible for his thought?\n\nEverything that is, everything that has been, has been naturally\nproduced. Man has acted as, under the same circumstances, we would have\nacted; because when you say \"under the circumstances,\" it is the same as\nto say that you would do exactly as they have done.\n\nThere has always been in men the instinct of self-preservation. There was\na time when men believed, and honestly believed, that there was above\nthem a God. Sometimes they believed in many, but it will be sufficient\nfor my illustration to say, one. Man believed that there was in the sky\nabove him a God who attended to the affairs of men. He believed that\nthat God, sitting upon his throne, rewarded virtue and punished vice. He\nbelieved also, that that God held the community responsible for the sins\nof individuals. He honestly believed it. When the flood came, or when\nthe earthquake devoured, he really believed that some God was filled\nwith anger—with holy indignation—at his children. He believed it, and\nso he looked about among his neighbors to see who was in fault, and if\nthere was any man who had failed to bring his sacrifice to the altar,\nhad failed to kneel, it may be to the priest, failed to be present in\nthe temple, or had given it as his opinion that the God of that tribe\nor of that nation was of no use, then, in order to placate the God, they\nseized the neighbor and sacrificed him on the altar of their ignorance\nand of their fear.\n\nThey believed when the lightning leaped from the cloud and left its\nblackened mark upon the man, that he had done something—that he had\nexcited the wrath of the gods.\n\nAnd while man so believed, while he believed that it was necessary, in\norder to defend himself, to kill his neighbor—he acted simply according\nto the dictates of his nature.\n\nWhat I claim is that we have nov-advanced far enough not only to\nthink, but to know, that the conduct of man has nothing to do with the\nphenomena of nature. We are now advanced far enough to absolutely know\nthat no man can be bad enough and no nation infamous enough to cause an\nearthquake. I think we have got to that point that we absolutely\nknow that no man can be wicked enough to entice one of the bolts from\nheaven—that no man can be cruel enough to cause a drought—and that you\ncould not have infidels enough on the earth to cause another flood.\nI think we have advanced far enough not only to say that, but to\nabsolutely know it—I mean people who have thought, and in whose minds\nthere is something like reasoning.\n\nWe know, if we know anything, that the lightning is just as apt to hit\na good man as a bad man. We know it. We know that the earthquake is just\nas liable to swallow virtue as to swallow vice. And you know just as\nwell as I do that a ship loaded with pirates is just as apt to outride\nthe storm as one crowded with missionaries. You know it.\n\nI am now speaking of the phenomena of nature. I believe, as much as\nI believe that I live, that the reason a thing is right is because it\ntends to the happiness of mankind. I believe, as much as I be-believe\nthat I live, that on the average the good man is not only the happier\nman, but that no man is happy who is not good.\n\nIf then we have gotten over that frightful, that awful superstition—we\nare ready to enjoy hearing the thoughts of each other.\n\nI do not say, neither do I intend to be understood as saying, that there\nis no God. All I intend to say is, that so far as we can see, no man\nis punished, no nation is punished by lightning, or famine, or storm.\nEverything happens to the one as to the other.\n\nNow, let us admit that there is an infinite God. That has nothing to do\nwith the sinlessness of thought—nothing to do with the fact that no man\nis accountable to any being, human or divine, for what he thinks. And\nlet me tell you why.\n\nIf there be an infinite God, leave him to deal with men who sin against\nhim. You can trust him, if you believe in him. He has the power. He has\na heaven full of bolts. Trust him. And now that you are satisfied that\nthe earthquake will not swallow you, or the lightning strike you, simply\nbecause you tell your thoughts, if one of your neighbors differs with\nyou, and acts improperly or thinks or speaks improperly of your God,\nleave him with your God—he can attend to him a thousand times better\nthan you can, He has the time. He lives from eternity to eternity. More\nthan that, he has the means. So that, whether there be this Being or\nnot, you have no right to interfere with your neighbor.\n\nThe next proposition is, that I have the same right to express my\nthought to the whole world, that the whole world has to express its\nthought to me.\n\nI believe that this realm of thought is not a democracy, where\nthe majority rule; it is not a republic. It is a country with one\ninhabitant. This brain is the world in which my mind lives, and my mind\nis the sovereign of that realm. We are all kings, and one man balances\nthe rest of the world as one drop of water balances the sea. Each soul\nis crowned. Each soul wears the purple and the tiara; and only those are\ngood citizens of the intellectual world who give to every other human\nbeing every right that they claim for themselves, and only those are\ntraitors in the great realm of thought who abandon reason and appeal to\nforce.\n\nIf now I have got out of your minds the idea that you must abuse your\nneighbors to keep on good terms with God, then the question of religion\nis exactly like every question—I mean of thought, of mind—I have\nnothing to say now about action.\n\nIs there authority in the world of art? Can a legislature pass a law\nthat a certain picture is beautiful, and can it pass a law putting in\nthe penitentiary any impudent artistic wretch who says that to him it is\nnot beautiful? Precisely the same with music. Our ears are not all\nthe same; we are not touched by the same sounds—the same beautiful\nmemories* do not arise. Suppose you have an authority in music? You may\nmake men, it may be, by offering them office or by threatening them with\npunishment, swear that they all like that tune—but you never will\nknow till the day of your death whether they do or not. The moment you\nintroduce a despotism in the world of thought, you succeed in making\nhypocrites—and you get in such a position that you never know what your\nneighbor thinks.\n\nSo in the great realm of religion, there can be no force. No one can be\ncompelled to pray. No matter how you tie him down, or crush him down on\nhis face or on his knees, it is above the power of the human race to put\nin that man, by force, the spirit of prayer. You cannot do it. Neither\ncan you compel anybody to worship a God. Worship rises from the heart\nlike perfume from a flower. It cannot obey; it cannot do that which\nsome one else commands. It must be absolutely true to the law of its\nown nature. And do you think any God would be satisfied with compulsory\nworship? Would he like to see long rows of poor, ignorant slaves on\ntheir terrified knees repeating words without a soul—giving him what\nyou might call the shucks of sound? Will any God be satisfied with\nthat? And so I say, we must be as free in one department of thought as\nanother.\n\nNow, I take the next step, and that is, that the rights of all are\nabsolutely equal.\n\nI have the same right to give you my opinion that you have to give me\nyours. I have no right to compel you to hear, if you do not want to. I\nhave no right to compel you to speak if you do not want to. If you do\nnot wish to know my thought, I have no right to force it upon you.\n\nThe next thing is, that this liberty of thought, this liberty of\nexpression, is of more value than any other thing beneath the stars. Of\nmore value than any religion, of more value than any government, of more\nvalue than all the constitutions that man has written and all the laws\nthat he has passed, is this liberty—the absolute liberty of the human\nmind. Take away that word from language, and all other words become\nmeaningless sounds, and there is then no reason for a man being and\nliving upon the earth.\n\nSo then, I am simply in favor of intellectual hospitality—that is all.\nYou come to me with a new idea. I invite you into the house. Let us see\nwhat you have. Let us talk it over. If I do not like your thought, I\nwill bid it a polite \"good day.\" If I do like it, I will say: \"Sit down;\nstay with me, and become a part of the intellectual wealth of my world.\"\nThat is all.\n\nAnd how any human being ever has had the impudence to speak against the\nright to speak, is beyond the power of my imagination. Here is a man\nwho speaks—who exercises a right that he, by his speech, denies. Can\nliberty go further than that? Is there any toleration possible beyond\nthe liberty to speak against liberty—the real believer in free speech\nallowing others to speak against the right to speak? Is there any\nlimitation beyond that?\n\nSo, whoever has spoken against the right to speak has admitted that he\nviolated his own doctrine. No man can open his mouth against the freedom\nof speech without denying every argument he may put forward. Why? He is\nexercising the right that he denies. How did he get it? Suppose there\nis one man on an island. You will all admit now that he would have the\nright to do his own thinking. You will all admit that he has the right\nto express his thought. Now, will somebody tell me how many men would\nhave to emigrate to that island before the original settler would lose\nhis right to think and his right to express himself?\n\nIf there be an infinite Being—and it is a question that I know nothing\nabout—you would be perfectly astonished to know how little I do know on\nthat subject, and yet I know as much as the aggregated world knows, and\nas little as the smallest insect that ever fanned with happy wings the\nsummer air—if there be such a Being, I have the same right to think\nthat he has simply because it is a necessity of my nature—because I\ncannot help it. And the Infinite would be just as responsible to the\nsmallest intelligence living in the infinite spaces—he would be just\nas responsible to that intelligence as that intelligence can be to him,\nprovided that intelligence thinks as a necessity of his nature.\n\nThere is another phrase to which I object—\"toleration.\" \"The limits\nof toleration.\" Why say \"toleration\"? I will tell you why. When\nthe thinkers were in the minority—when the philosophers were\nvagabonds—when the men with brains furnished fuel for bonfires—when\nthe majority were ignorantly orthodox—when they hated the heretic as a\nlast year's leaf hates a this year's bud—in that delightful time\nthese poor people in the minority had to say to ignorant power, to\nconscientious rascality, to cruelty born of universal love: \"Don't kill\nus; don't be so arrogantly meek as to burn us; tolerate us.\" At that\ntime the minority was too small to talk about rights, and the great big\nignorant majority when tired of shedding blood, said: \"Well, we will\ntolerate you; we can afford to wait; you will not live long, and when\nthe Being of infinite compassion gets hold of you we will glut our\nrevenge through an eternity of joy; we will ask you every now and then,\n'What is your opinion now?'\"\n\nBoth feeling absolutely sure that infinite goodness would have his\nrevenge, they \"tolerated\" these thinkers, and that word finally took\nthe place almost of liberty. But I do not like it. When you say \"I\ntolerate,\" you do not say you have no right to punish, no right to\npersecute. It is only a disclaimer for a few moments and for a few\nyears, but you retain the right. I deny it.\n\nAnd let me say here to-night—it is your experience, it is mine—that\nthe bigger a man is the more charitable he is; you know it. The more\nbrain he has, the more excuses he finds for all the world; you know it.\nAnd if there be in heaven an infinite Being, he must be grander than any\nman; he must have a thousand times more charity than the human heart can\nhold, and is it possible that he is going to hold his ignorant children\nresponsible for the impressions made by nature upon their brain? Let us\nhave some sense.\n\nThere is another side to this question, and that is with regard to the\nfreedom of thought and expression in matters pertaining to this world.\n\nNo man has a right to hurt the character of a neighbor. He has no right\nto utter slander. He has no right to bear false witness. He has no right\nto be actuated by any motive except for the general good—but the\nthings he does here to his neighbor—these are easily defined and easily\npunished. All that I object to is setting up a standard of authority in\nthe world of art, the world of beauty, the world of poetry, the world\nof worship, the world of religion, and the world of metaphysics. That is\nwhat I object to; and if the old doctrines had been carried out, every\nhuman being that has benefited this world would have been destroyed.\nIf the people who believe that a certain belief is necessary to insure\nsalvation had had control of this world, we would have been as ignorant\nto-night as wild beasts. Every step in advance has been made in spite of\nthem. There has not been a book of any value printed since the invention\nof that art—and when I say \"of value,\" I mean that contained new\nand splendid truths—that was not anathematized by the gentlemen who\nbelieved that man is responsible for his thought. Every step has been\ntaken in spite of that doctrine.\n\nConsequently I simply believe in absolute liberty of mind. And I have no\nfear about any other world—not the slightest. When I get there, I will\ngive my honest opinion of that country; I will give my honest thought\nthere; and if for that I lose my soul, I will keep at least my\nself-respect.\n\nA man tells me a story. I believe it, or disbelieve it. I cannot help\nit. I read a story—no matter whether in the original Hebrew, or whether\nit has been translated. I believe it or I disbelieve it. No matter\nwhether it is written in a very solemn or a very flippant manner—I have\nmy idea about its truth. And I insist that each man has the right to\njudge that for himself, and for that reason, as I have already said, I\nam defending your right to differ with me—that is all. And if you do\ndiffer with me, all that it proves is that I do not agree with you.\nThere is no man that lives to-night beneath the stars—there is no\nbeing—that can force my soul upon its knees, unless the reason is\ngiven. I will be no slave. I do not care how big my master is, I am just\nas small, if a slave, as though the master were small. It is not the\ngreatness of the master that can honor the slave. In other words, I\nam going to act according to my right, as I understand it, without\ninterfering with any other human being. And now, if you think—any of\nyou, that you can control your thought, I want you to try it. There is\nnot one here who can by any possibility think, only as he must.\n\nYou remember the story of the Methodist minister who insisted that he\ncould control his thoughts. A man said to him, \"Nobody can control his\nown mind.\" \"Oh, yes, he can,\" the preacher replied. \"My dear sir,\" said\nthe man, \"you cannot even say the Lord's Prayer without thinking of\nsomething else.\" \"Oh, yes, I can.\" \"Well, if you will do it, I will give\nyou that horse, the best riding horse in this county.\" \"Well, who is to\njudge?\" said the preacher. \"I will take your own word for it, and if you\nsay the Lord's Prayer through without thinking of anything else, I will\ngive you that horse.\" So the minister shut his eyes and began: \"Our\nFather which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy\nwill be done,\"—\"I suppose you will throw in the saddle and bridle?\"\n\nI say to you to-night, ladies and gentlemen, that I feel more interest\nin the freedom of thought and speech than in all other questions,\nknowing, as I do, that it is the condition of great and splendid\nprogress for the race; remembering, as I do, that the opposite idea has\ncovered the cheek of the world with tears; remembering, and knowing, as\nI do, that the enemies of free thought and free speech have covered this\nworld with blood. These men have filled the heavens with an infinite\nmonster; they have filled the future with fire and flame, and they have\nmade the present, when they have had the power, a perdition. These men,\nthese doctrines, have carried fagots to the feet of philosophy. These\nmen, these doctrines, have hated to see the dawn of an intellectual day.\nThese men, these doctrines, have denied every science, and denounced and\nkilled every philosopher they could lay their bloody, cruel, ignorant\nhands upon.\n\nAnd for that reason, I am for absolute liberty of thought, everywhere,\nin every department, domain, and realm of the human mind.\n\nRemarks of Mr. Coudert\n\nLadies and Gentlemen and Mr. President: It is not only \"the sense of\nthe church\" that I am lacking now, I am afraid it is any sense at all;\nand I am only wondering how a reasonably intelligent being—meaning\nmyself—could in view of the misfortune that befell Mr. Kernan, have\nundertaken to speak to-night.\n\nThis is a new experience. I have never sung in any of Verdi's operas—I\nhave never listened to one through—but I think I would prefer to try\nall three of these performances rather than go on with this duty which,\nin a vain moment of deluded vanity, I heedlessly undertook.\n\nI am in a new field here. I feel very much like the master of a ship\nwho thinks that he can safely guide his bark. (I am not alluding to the\ntraditional bark of St. Peter, in which I hope that I am and will always\nbe, but the ordinary bark that requires a compass and a rudder and a\nguide.) And I find that all these ordinary things, which we generally\ntake for granted, and which are as necessary to our safety as the air\nwhich we breathe, or the sunshine that we enjoy, have been quietly,\npleasantly, and smilingly thrown overboard by the gentleman who has just\npreceded me.\n\nCarlyle once said—and the thought came to me as the gentleman was\nspeaking—\"A Comic History of England!\"—for some wretch had just\nwritten such a book—(talk of free thought and free speech when men do\nsuch things!)—\"A Comic History of England!\" The next thing we shall\nhear of will be \"A Comic History of the Bible!\" I think we have heard\nthe first chapter of that comic history to-night; and the only comfort\nthat I have—and possibly some other antiquated and superannuated\npersons of either sex, if such there be within my hearing—is that\nsuch things as have seemed to me charmingly to partake of the order of\nblasphemy, have been uttered with such charming bonhomie, and received\nwith such enthusiastic admiration, that I have wondered whether we are\nin a Christian audience of the nineteenth century, or in a possible\nIngersollian audience of the twenty-third.\n\nAnd let me first, before I enter upon the very few and desultory\nremarks, which are the only ones that I can make now and with which I\nmay claim your polite attention—let me say a word about the comparison\nwith which your worthy President opened these proceedings.\n\nThere are two or three things upon which I am a little sensitive: One,\naspersions upon the land of my birth—the city of New York; the next,\nthe land of my fathers; and the next, the bark that I was just speaking\nof.\n\nNow your worthy President, in his well-meant efforts to exhibit in the\nbest possible style the new actor upon his stage, said that he had seen\nVictor Hugo's remains, and Voltaire's, and Jean Jacques Rousseau's, and\nthat he thought the niche might well be filled by Colonel Ingersoll.\nIf that had been merely the expression of a natural desire to see him\nspeedily annihilated, I might perhaps in the interests of the Christian\ncommunity have thought, but not said, \"Amen!\" (Here you will at once\nobserve the distinction I make between free thought and free speech!)\n\nI do not think, and I beg that none of you, and particularly the\neloquent rhetorician who preceded me, will think, that in anything I may\nsay I intend any personal discourtesy, for I do believe to some extent\nin freedom of speech upon a platform like this. Such a debate as this\nrises entirely above and beyond the plane of personalities.\n\nI suppose that your President intended to compare Colonel Ingersoll to\nVoltaire, to Hugo and to Rousseau. I have no retainer from either of\nthose gentlemen, but for the reason that I just gave you, I wish to\ndefend their memory from what I consider a great wrong. And so I do not\nthink—with all respect to the eloquent and learned gentleman—that he\nis entitled to a place in that niche. Voltaire did many wrong things.\nHe did them for many reasons, and chiefly because he was human.\nBut Voltaire did a great deal to build up. Leaving aside his noble\ntragedies, which charmed and delighted his audiences, and dignified the\nstage, throughout his work was some effort to ameliorate the condition\nof the human race. He fought against torture; he fought against\npersecution; he fought against bigotry; he clamored and wrote against\nlittleness and fanaticism in every way, and he was not ashamed when he\nentered upon his domains at Fernay, to erect a church to the God of\nwhom the most our friend can say is, \"I do not know whether he exists or\nnot.\"\n\nRousseau did many noble things, but he was a madman, and in our\nday would probably have been locked up in an asylum and treated by\nintelligent doctors. His works, however, bear the impress of a religious\neducation, and if there be in his works or sayings anything to parallel\nwhat we have heard tonight—whether a parody on divine revelation, or a\nparody upon the prayer of prayers—I have not seen it.\n\nVictor Hugo has enriched the literature of his day with prose and poetry\nthat have made him the Shakespeare of the nineteenth century—poems as\ndeeply imbued with a devout sense of responsibility to the Almighty as\nthe writings of an archbishop or a cardinal. He has left the traces\nof his beneficent action all over the literature of his day, of his\ncountry, and of his race.\n\nAll these men, then, have built up something. Will anyone, the most\nardent admirer of Colonel Ingersoll, tell me what he has built up?\n\nTo go now to the argument. The learned gentleman says that freedom of\nthought is a grand thing. Unfortunately, freedom of thought exists. What\none of us would not put manacles and fetters upon his thoughts, if he\nonly could? What persecution have any of us suffered to compare with the\ninvoluntary recurrence of these demons that enter our brain—that bring\nback past events that we would wipe out with our tears, or even with\nour blood—and make us slaves of a power unseen but uncontrollable and\nuncontrolled? Is it not unworthy of so eloquent and intelligent a man to\npreach before you here to-night that thought must always be free?\n\nWhen in the history of the world has thought ever been fettered? If\nthere be a page in history upon which such an absurdity is written, I\nhave failed to find it.\n\nThought is beyond the domain of man. The most cruel and arbitrary ruler\ncan no more penetrate into your bosom and mine and extract the inner\nworkings of our brain, than he can scale the stars or pull down the sun\nfrom its seat. Thought must be free. Thought is unseen, unhandled and\nuntouched, and no despot has yet been able to reach it, except when the\nthoughts burst into words. And therefore, may we not consider now, and\nsay, that liberty of word is what he wants, and not liberty of thought,\nwhich no one has ever gainsaid, or disputed?\n\nLiberty of speech!—and the gentleman generously tells us, \"Why, I only\nask for myself what I would cheerfully extend to you. I wish you to be\nfree; and you can even entertain those old delusions which your mothers\ntaught, and look with envious admiration upon me while I scale the giddy\nheights of Olympus, gather the honey and approach the stars and tell\nyou how pure the air is in those upper regions which you are unable to\nreach.\"\n\nThanks for his kindness! But I think that it is one thing for us to\nextend to him that liberty that he asks for—the liberty to destroy—and\nanother thing for him to give us the liberty which we claim—the liberty\nto conserve.\n\nOh, destruction is so easy, destruction is so pleasant! It marks the\nfootsteps all through our life. The baby begins by destroying his bib;\nthe older child by destroying his horse, and when the man is grown up\nand he joins the regiment with the latent instinct that when he gets a\nchance he will destroy human life.\n\nThis building cost many thousand days' work. It was planned by more or\nless skillful architects (ignorant of ventilation, but well-meaning).\nMen lavished their thought, and men lavished their sweat for a pittance,\nupon this building. It took months and possibly years to build it and to\nadorn it and to beautify it. And yet, as it stands complete tonight with\nall of you here in the vigor of your life and in the enjoyment of such\nentertainment as you may get here this evening, I will find a dozen\nmen who with a few pounds of dynamite will reduce it and all of us to\ninstant destruction.\n\nThe dynamite man may say to me, \"I give you full liberty to build and\noccupy and insure, if you will give me liberty to blow up.\" Is that a\nfair bargain? Am I bound in conscience and in good sense to accept it?\nLiberty of speech! Tell me where liberty of speech has ever existed.\nThere have been free societies, England was a free country. France has\nstruggled through crisis after crisis to obtain liberty of speech. We\nthink we have liberty of speech, as we understand it, and yet who would\nundertake to say that our society could live with liberty of speech?\nWe have gone through many crises in our short history, and we know that\nthought is nothing before the law, but the word is an act—as guilty at\ntimes as the act of killing, or burglary, or any of the violent crimes\nthat disgrace humanity and require the police.\n\nA word is an act—an act of the tongue; and why should my tongue go\nunpunished, and I who wield it mercilessly toward those who are weaker\nthan I, escape, if my arm is to be punished when I use it tyrannously?\nWhom would you punish for the murder of Desdemona—is it Iago, or\nOthello? Who was the villain, who was the criminal, who deserved the\nscaffold—who but free speech? Iago exercised free speech. He poisoned\nthe ear of Othello and nerved his arm and Othello was the murderer—but\nIago went scot free. That was a word.\n\n\"Oh,\" says the counsel, \"but that does not apply to individuals; be\ntender and charitable to individuals.\" Tender and charitable to men if\nthey endeavor to destroy all that you love and venerate and respect!\n\nAre you tender and charitable to me if you enter my house, my castle,\nand debauch my children from the faith that they have been taught? Are\nyou tender and charitable to them and to me when you teach them that I\nhave instructed them in falsehood, that their mother has rocked them in\nblasphemy, and that they are now among the fools and the witlings of the\nworld because they believe in my precepts? Is that the charity that you\nspeak of? Heaven forbid that liberty of speech such as that, should ever\ninvade my home or yours!\n\nWe all understand, and the learned gentleman will admit, that his\ndiscourse is but an eloquent apology for blasphemy. And when I say this,\nI beg you to believe me incapable of resorting to the cheap artifice\nof strong words to give point to a pointless argument, or to offend\na courteous adversary. I think if I put it to him he would, with\ncharacteristic candor, say, \"Yes, that is what I claim—the liberty to\nblaspheme; the world has outgrown these things; and I claim to-day, as I\nclaimed a few months ago in the neighboring gallant little State of New\nJersey, that while you cannot slander man, your tongue is free to revile\nand insult man's maker.\" New Jersey was behind in the race for progress,\nand did not accept his argument. His unfortunate client was convicted\nand had to pay the fine which the press—which is seldom mistaken—says\ncame from the pocket of his generous counsel.\n\nThe argument was a strong one; the argument was brilliant, and was able;\nand I say now, with all my predilections for the church of my fathers,\nand for your church (because it is not a question of our differences,\nbut it is a question whether the tree shall be torn up by the roots, not\nwhat branches may bear richer fruit or deserve to be lopped off)—I say,\nwhy has every Christian State passed these statutes against blasphemy?\nTurning into ridicule sacred things—firing off the Lord's Prayer as\nyou would a joke from Joe Miller or a comic poem—that is what I mean by\nblasphemy. If there is any other or better definition, give it me, and I\nwill use it.\n\nNow understand. All these States of ours care not one fig what our\nreligion is. Behave yourselves properly, obey the laws, do not require\nthe intervention of the police, and the majesty of your conscience will\nbe as exalted as the sun. But the wisest men and the best men—possibly\nnot so eloquent as the orator, but I may say it without offence to\nhim—other names that shine brightly in the galaxy of our best men, have\ninsisted and maintained that the Christian faith was the ligament that\nkept our modern society together, and our laws have said, and the laws\nof most of our States say, to this day, \"Think what you like, but do\nnot, like Samson, pull the pillars down upon us all.\"\n\nIf I had anything to say, ladies and gentlemen, it is time that I should\nsay it now. My exordium has been very long, but it was no longer than\nthe dignity of the subject, perhaps, demanded.\n\nFree speech we all have. Absolute liberty of speech we never had. Did we\nhave it before the war? Many of us here remember that if you crossed an\nimaginary line and went among some of the noblest and best men that ever\nadorned this continent, one word against slavery meant death. And if you\nsay that that was the influence of slavery, I will carry you to Boston,\nthat city which numbers within its walls as many intelligent people to\nthe acre as any city on the globe—was it different there?\n\nWhy, the fugitive, beaten, blood-stained slave, when he got there, was\nseized and turned back; and when a few good and brave men, in defence\nof free speech, undertook to defend the slave and to try and give him\nliberty, they were mobbed and pelted and driven through the city. You\nmay say, \"That proves there was no liberty of speech.\" No; it proves\nthis: that wherever, and wheresoever, and whenever, liberty of speech is\nincompatible with the safety of the State, liberty of speech must fall\nback and give way, in order that the State may be preserved.\n\nFirst, above everything, above all things, the safety of the people is\nthe supreme law. And if rhetoricians, anxious to tear down, anxious to\npluck the faith from the young ones who are unable to defend it, come\nforward with nickel-plated platitudes and commonplaces clothed in\nsecond-hand purple and tinsel, and try to tear down the temple, then\nit is time, I shall not say for good men—for I know so few they make a\nsmall battalion—but for good women, to come to the rescue.\n\nGeneral Woodford's Speech\n\nMr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen>: At this late hour, I could not\nattempt—even if I would—the eloquence of my friend Colonel Ingersoll;\nnor the wit and rapier-like sarcasm of my other valued friend Mr.\nCoudert. But there are some things so serious about this subject that\nwe discuss to-night, that I crave your pardon if, without preface, and\nwithout rhetoric, I get at once to what from my Protestant standpoint\nseems the fatal logical error of Mr. Inger-soll's position.\n\nMr. Ingersoll starts with the statement—and that I may not, for I could\nnot, do him injustice, nor myself injustice, in the quotation, I will\ngive it as he stated it—he starts with this statement: that thought is\na necessary natural product, the result of what we call impressions made\nthrough the medium of the senses upon the brain.\n\nDo you think that is thought? Now stop—turn right into your own\nminds—is that thought? Does not will power take hold? Does not reason\ntake hold? Does not memory take hold, and is not thought the action of\nthe brain based upon the impression and assisted or directed by manifold\nand varying influences?\n\nSecondly, our friend Mr. Ingersoll says that no human being is\naccountable to any being, human or divine, for his thought.\n\nHe starts with the assumption that thought is the inevitable impression\nburnt upon the mind at once, and then jumps to the conclusion that there\nis no responsibility. Now, is not that a fair logical analysis of what\nhe has said?\n\nMy senses leave upon my mind an impression, and then my mind, out\nof that impression, works good or evil. The glass of brandy, being\npresented to my physical sense, inspires thirst—inspires the thought\nof thirst—inspires the instinct of debauchery. Am I not accountable for\nthe result of the mind given me, whether I yield to the debauch, or rise\nto the dignity of self-control?\n\nEvery thing of sense leaves its impression upon the mind. If there be no\nresponsibility anywhere, then is this world blind chance. If there be\nno responsibility anywhere, then my friend deserves no credit if he\nbe guiding you in the path of truth, and I deserve no censure if I be\ncarrying you back into the path of superstition. Why, admit for a moment\nthat a man has no control over his thought, and you destroy absolutely\nthe power of regenerating the world, the power of improving the world.\nThe world swings one way, or it swings the other. If it be true that in\nall these ages we have come nearer and nearer to a perfect liberty, that\nis true simply and alone because the mind of man through reason, through\nmemory, through a thousand inspirations and desires and hopes, has ever\ntended toward better results and higher achievements.\n\nNo accountability? I speak not for my friend, but I recognize that I\nam accountable to myself; I recognize that whether I rise or fall, that\nwhether my life goes upward or downward, I am responsible to myself. And\nso, in spite of all sophistry, so in spite of all dream, so in spite\nof all eloquence, each woman, each man within this audience is\nresponsible—first of all to herself and himself—whether when bad\nthoughts, when passion, when murder, when evil come into the heart or\nbrain he harbors them there or he casts them out.\n\nI am responsible further—I am responsible to my neighbor. I know that I\nam my neighbor's keeper, I know that as I touch your life, as you touch\nmine, I am responsible every moment, every hour, every day, for my\ninfluence upon you. I am either helping you up, or I am dragging you\ndown; you are either helping me up or you are dragging me down—and you\nknow it. Sophistry cannot get away from this; eloquence cannot seduce us\nfrom it. You know that if you look back through the record of your life,\nthere are lives that you have helped and lives that you have hurt. You\nknow that there are lives on the downward plane that went down because\nin an evil hour you pushed them; you know, perhaps with blessing, lives\nthat have gone up because you have reached out to them a helping\nhand. That responsibility for your neighbor is a responsibility and an\naccountability that you and I cannot avoid or evade.\n\nI believe one thing further: that because there is a creation there is a\nCreator. I believe that because there is force, there is a Projector of\nforce; because there is matter, there is spirit. I reverently believe\nthese things. I am not angry with my neighbor because he does not; it\nmay be that he is right, that I am wrong; but if there be a Power\nthat sent me into this world, so far as that Power has given me wrong\ndirection, or permitted wrong direction, that Power will judge me\njustly. So far as I disregard the light that I have, whatever it\nmay be—whether it br light of reason, light of conscience, light of\nhistory—so far as I do that which my judgment tells me is wrong, I am\nresponsible and I am accountable.\n\nNow the Protestant theory, as I understand it, is simply this: It would\nvary from the theory as taught by the mother church—it certainly swings\nfar away from the theory as suggested by my friend; I understand the\nProtestant theory to be this: That every man is responsible to himself,\nto his neighbor, and to his God, for his thought. Not for the first\nimpression—but for that impression, for that direction and result which\nhe intelligently gives to the first impression or deduces from it. I\nunderstand that the Protestant idea is this: that man may think—we know\nhe will think—for himself; but that he is responsible for it. That a\nman may speak his thought, so long as he does not hurt his neighbor. He\nmust use his own liberty so that he shall not injure the well-being of\nany other one—so that when using this liberty, when exercising this\nfreedom, he is accountable at the last to his God. And so Protestantism\nsends me into the world with this terrible and solemn responsibility.\n\nIt leaves Mr. Ingersoll free to speak his thought at the bar of his\nconscience, before the bar of his fellow-man, but it holds him in the\ninevitable grip of absolute responsibility for every light word idly\nspoken.\n\nGod grant that he may use that power so that he can face that\nresponsibility at the last!\n\nIt leaves to every churchman liberty to believe and stand by his church\naccording to his own conviction.\n\nIt stands for this; the absolute liberty of each individual man to\nthink, to write, to speak, to act, according to the best light within\nhim; limited as to his fellows, by the condition that he shall not use\nthat liberty so as to injure them; limited in the other direction, by\nthose tremendous laws which are laws in spite of all rhetoric, and in\nspite of all logic.\n\nIf I put my finger into the fire, that fire burns. If I do a wrong, that\nwrong remains. If I hurt my neighbor, the wrong reacts upon myself. If\nI would try to escape what you call judgment, what you call penalty, I\ncannot escape the working of the inevitable-law that follows a cause by\neffect; I cannot escape that inevitable law—not the creation of\nsome dark monster flashing through the skies—but, as I believe, the\nbeneficent creation which puts into the spiritual life the same control\nof law that guides the material life, which wisely makes me responsible,\nthat in the solemnity of that responsibility I am bound to lift my\nbrother up and never to drag my brother down.\n\nReply of Colonel Ingersoll\n\nThe first gentleman who replied to me took the ground boldly that\nexpression is not free—that no man has the right to express his real\nthoughts—and I suppose that he acted in accordance with that idea. How\nare you to know whether he thought a solitary thing that he said, or\nnot? How is it possible for us to ascertain whether he is simply the\nmouthpiece of some other? Whether he is a free man, or whether he says\nthat which he does not believe, it is impossible for us to ascertain.\n\nHe tells you that I am about to take away the religion of your mothers.\nI have heard that said a great many times. No doubt Mr. Coudert has\nthe religion of his mother, and judging from the argument he made, his\nmother knew at least as much about these questions as her son. I believe\nthat every good father and good mother wants to see the son and the\ndaughter climb higher upon the great and splendid mount of thought than\nthey reached.\n\nYou never can honor your father by going around swearing to his\nmistakes. You never can honor your mother by saying that ignorance is\nblessed because she did not know everything. I want to honor my parents\nby finding out more than they did.\n\nThere is another thing that I was a little astonished at—that Mr.\nCoudert, knowing that he would be in eternal felicity with his harp in\nhis hand, seeing me in the world of the damned, could yet grow envious\nhere to-night at my imaginary monument.\n\nAnd he tells you—this Catholic—that Voltaire was an exceedingly good\nChristian compared with me. Do you know I am glad that I have compelled\na Catholic—one who does not believe he has the right to express his\nhonest thoughts—to pay a compliment to Voltaire simply because he\nthought it was at my expense?\n\nI have an almost infinite admiration for Voltaire; and when I hear that\nname pronounced, I think of a plume floating over a mailed knight—I\nthink of a man that rode to the beleaguered City of Catholicism and\ndemanded a surrender—I think of a great man who thrust the dagger of\nassassination into your Mother Church, and from that wound she never\nwill recover.\n\nOne word more. This gentleman says that children are destructive—that\nthe first thing they do is to destroy their bibs. The gentleman, I\nshould think from his talk, has preserved his!\n\nThey talk about blasphemy. What is blasphemy? Let us be honest with each\nother. Whoever lives upon the unpaid labor of others is a blasphemer.\nWhoever slanders, maligns, and betrays is a blasphemer. Whoever denies\nto others the rights that he claims for himself is a blasphemer.\n\nWho is a worshiper? One who makes a happy home—one who fills the\nlives of wife and children with sunlight—one who has a heart where\nthe flowers of kindness burst into blossom and fill the air with\nperfume—the man who sits beside his wife, prematurely old and wasted,\nand holds her thin hands in his and kisses them as passionately and\nloves her as truly and as rapturously as when she was a bride—he is a\nworshiper—that is worship.\n\nAnd the gentleman brought forward as a reason why we should not have\nfree speech, that only a few years ago some of the best men in the\nworld, if you said a word in favor of liberty, would shoot you down.\nWhat an argument was that! They were not good men. They were\nthe whippers of women and the stealers of babes—robbers of the\ntrundlebed—assassins of human liberty. They knew no better, but I do\nnot propose to follow the example of a barbarian because he was honestly\na barbarian.\n\nSo much for debauching his family by telling them that his precepts\nare false. If he has taught them as he has taught us to-night, he has\ndebauched their minds. I would be honest at the cradle. I would not\ntell a child anything as a certainty that I did not know. I would be\nabsolutely honest.\n\nBut he says that thought is absolutely free—nobody can control thought.\nLet me tell him: Superstition is the jailer of the mind. You can so\nstuff a child with superstition that its poor little brain is a bastile\nand its poor little soul a convict. Fear is the jailer of the mind, and\nsuperstition is the assassin of liberty.\n\nSo when anybody goes into his family and tells these great and shining\ntruths, instead of debauching his children they will kill the snakes\nthat crawl in their cradles. Let us be honest and free.\n\nAnd now, coming to the second gentleman. He is a Protestant. The\nCatholic Church says: \"Don't think; pay your fare; this is a through\nticket, and we will look out for your baggage.\" The Protestant Church\nsays: \"Read that Bible for yourselves; think for yourselves; but if you\ndo not come to a right conclusion you will be eternally damned.\" Any\nsensible man will say, \"Then I won't read it—I'll believe it without\nreading it.\" And that is the only way you can be sure you will believe\nit; don't read it.\n\nGovernor Woodford says that we are responsible for our thoughts. Why?\nCould you help thinking as you did on this subject? No, Could you help\nbelieving the Bible? I suppose not. Could you help believing that story\nof Jonah? Certainly not—it looks reasonable in Brooklyn.\n\nI stated that thought was the result of the impressions of nature upon\nthe mind through the medium of the senses. He says you cannot have\nthought without memory. How did you get the first one?\n\nOf course I intended to be understood—and the language is clear—that\nthere could be no thought except through the impressions made upon the\nbrain by nature through the avenues called the senses. Take away the\nsenses, how would you think then? If you thought at all, I think you\nwould agree with Mr. Coudert.\n\nNow, I admit—so we need never have a contradiction about it—I admit\nthat every human being is responsible to the person he injures. If he\ninjures any man, woman, or child, or any dog, or the lowest animal that\ncrawls, he is responsible to that animal, to that being—in other words,\nhe is responsible to any being that he has injured.\n\nBut you cannot injure an infinite Being, if there be one. I will tell\nyou why. You cannot help him, and you cannot hurt him. If there be an\ninfinite Being, he is conditionless—he does not want anything—he has\nit. You cannot help anybody that does not want something—you cannot\nhelp him. You cannot hurt anybody unless he is a conditioned being\nand you change his condition so as to inflict a harm. But if God be\nconditionless, you cannot hurt him, and you cannot help him. So do\nnot trouble yourselves about the Infinite. All our duties lie within\nreach—all our duties are right here; and my religion is simply this:\n\nFirst. Give to every other human being every right that you claim for\nyourself.\n\nSecond. If you tell your thought at all, tell your honest thought. Do\nnot be a parrot—do not be an instrumentality for an organization. Tell\nyour own thought, honor bright, what you think.\n\nMy next idea is, that the only possible good in the universe is\nhappiness. The time to be happy is now. The place to be happy is here.\nThe way to be happy is to try and make somebody else so.\n\nMy good friend General Woodford—and he is a good man telling the best\nhe knows—says that I will be accountable at the bar up yonder. I am\nready to settle that account now, and expect to be, every moment of my\nlife—and when that settlement comes, if it does come, I do not believe\nthat a solitary being can rise and say that I ever injured him or her.\n\nBut no matter what they say. Let me tell you a story, how we will settle\nif we do get there.\n\nYou remember the story told about the Mexican who believed that his\ncountry was the only one in the world, and said so. The priest told\nhim that there was another country where a man lived who was eleven or\ntwelve feet high, that made the whole world, and if he denied it, when\nthat man got hold of him he would not leave a whole bone in his body.\nBut he denied it. He was one of those men who would not believe further\nthan his vision extended.\n\nSo one day in his boat, he was rocking away when the wind suddenly arose\nand he was blown out of sight of his home. After several days he was\nblown so far that he saw the shores of another country. Then he said,\n\"My Lord; I am gone! I have been swearing all my life that there was no\nother country, and here it is!\" So he did his best—paddled with what\nlittle strength he had left, reached the shore, and got out of his boat.\nSure enough, there came down a man to meet him about twelve feet high.\nThe poor little wretch was frightened almost to death, so he said to the\ntall man as he saw him coming down: \"Mister, whoever you are, I denied\nyour existence—I did not believe you lived; I swore there was no such\ncountry as this; but I see I was mistaken, and I am gone. You are going\nto kill me, and the quicker you do it the better and get me out of my\nmisery. Do it now!\"\n\nThe great man just looked at the little fellow, and said nothing, till\nhe asked, \"What are you going to do with me, because over in that other\ncountry I denied your existence?\" \"What am I going to do with you?\" said\nthe supposed God. \"Now that you have got here, if you behave yourself I\nam going to treat you well.\"\n"
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