MORE DEBATES.
In April 1874 the preliminaries for a six nights' discussion between
Mr Bradlaugh and the Rev. Brewin Grant, B.A., were arranged. It was
to be held in the Bow and Bromley Institute, and to commence on the
20th of May. It will be remembered that Mr Grant was no novice in
debate, and had in fact several times previously met Mr Bradlaugh on
the platform. These encounters had been so unpleasant that my father
quite shrank from any renewal of them, and the present debate was
brought about mainly through the mediation of the Rev. A. J. Harrison,
M.A. On the first three nights Mr Grant was to attack Secularism,
and Mr Bradlaugh to defend, and then Mr Bradlaugh was to assail
Christianity, and Mr Grant defend. On the first evening the chair
was taken by the Rev. Arthur Mursell, and Mr Grant as the opener had
the opportunity to set the course of the debate, but so little did
he realise his responsibilities that in his opening speech, almost
indeed in his opening words, he fell back upon his old tactics of
vulgar personalities, and this, of course, provoked some reply from Mr
Bradlaugh. On the second night the Rev. Brewin Grant was perhaps not
quite so bad, and my father for his part had resolved to try and endure
the taunts levelled against himself, and against those with whom he
worked. With the fourth night, when the chair was taken by the Rev. Mr
Driffield, Rector of Bow, came Mr Bradlaugh's opportunity, and he made
the most of it; this time he was the first speaker, and he opened the
debate in a careful and closely reasoned speech, but unfortunately Mr
Grant was not content to follow him. The _Eastern Post_, in an article
on the first four nights, remarked that if the Rev. Brewin Grant was
selected by the churchmen of the district, the choice did "no credit
to their judgment." The writer went on to point out that although
Mr Grant had the advantage of being able to prepare his speech for
the first three nights, he did not show himself capable of speaking
with any sequence or coherence, but instead he flung all sorts of
opprobrious charges at Mr Bradlaugh, and introduced the most trivial
personalities, which had not the remotest bearing upon the subject.
"Mr Bradlaugh in his first speech gave his definition of Secularism,
which ought to have furnished excellent material for criticism and
debate; but his reverend opponent adhered to the system of personal
disparagement, and at last Mr Bradlaugh retaliated.... Things improved
somewhat on the fourth night, but this was perhaps due to the fact that
the exponent of Secularism led the debate."[11] This, from the pen of
an outsider, will serve to show the impression produced upon those who
listened to the speeches. The chairman of the committee of the Bow and
Bromley Institute waited upon Mr Bradlaugh after the first night, and
told him in the presence of the Rev. Mr Schnadhorst (one of Mr Grant's
committee) that in consequence of Mr Grant's conduct they had received
a requisition, in which clergymen had joined, asking them to put an end
to the debate.
[Footnote 11: _Eastern Post._]
On the fifth night the North London Railway Company, to whom the
Institute belonged, stepped in and closed the hall just as the people
were assembling to go in. As there was no proper legal agreement for
the hire of the hall, there was no redress. There had been no notice
of the closing of the hall, hence Mr Bradlaugh and Mr Grant, the
chairman and the committees, were all in attendance at the Bow and
Bromley Institute, as well as the audience who had paid their money to
hear the debate. It was decided, on taking a vote of those present, to
adjourn to the nearest available place and finish the debate there.
The Clay Hall grounds were suggested, and there is an amusing account
of Mr Bradlaugh proceeding to this place followed by the audience,
who were considerably added to from the general public _en route_.
The proprietor was at first rather alarmed at the advent of such a
besieging party, but a reassurance from Mr Bradlaugh and a payment in
advance soon calmed his fears. Mr Grant, however, for reasons best
known to himself, did not come to Clay Hall, although the Revs. A.
Mursell, W. Schnadhorst, S. Bardsley, and W. Loveridge came, as well
as other friends of Mr Grant. Mr M. D. Conway, who was to have taken
the chair, also followed the party to the Clay Hall grounds, where
he presided at the informal meeting then held. The whole matter was
discussed, and the kindly words on both sides cleared away much of the
ill feeling which had grown up during the debate; and at the conclusion
of the meeting, in replying to the vote of thanks, Mr Conway said:--
"GENTLEMEN,--I must say that I came to-night with a good
deal of pain and apprehension. Though I accepted the invitation to
preside at this discussion, I did so in the interests of truth, and
from my desire to promote anything like honest discussion. When I
read the debate as reported in the _National Reformer_ for the first
time, I thought that Mr Bradlaugh seemed to resemble St Paul--that is,
that he was fighting with beasts; and I came down with a great deal
of apprehension that there might be scenes that were not decorous.
I quite felicitate you and myself that instead of that, and instead
of such recriminations, we happen to be in the presence of gentlemen
on both sides who have indicated so much fairness and so much fine
spirit. I will say for Christians, that if what has been levelled at
Mr Bradlaugh, as it seems to me, has conveyed any impression against
the Christian religion, as perhaps it has to some minds, the extremely
gentlemanly discourse of some of the Christians we have had here
to-night is calculated to recall that."
Mr Mursell spoke to Mr Bradlaugh as to fresh arrangements, but Mr
Bradlaugh had never wanted to meet Mr Grant, and now would only do so
if a dozen clergymen put him forward as their representative; "then,
and then only," he said, he would meet him, "not as Mr Grant, but as
the representative of those dozen clergymen." For his part, he would
be no party to doing anything voluntarily towards renewing such scenes
as they had just had. Strange as it must seem to any one who has read
the pages of these debates, Mr Grant found fifteen clergymen willing
to vouch for him as a fit and proper person to represent their views
on Christianity, and another (and happily, final) debate was arranged
for the following year. My father, in order to show that he did not
measure all clergymen by Mr Grant's inches, selected Mr Mursell to
represent him in the preliminary arrangements, just as on the previous
occasion he had consented to abide by the decision of the Rev. A. J.
Harrison. The debate was to be held on one night in each week for six
weeks,[12] and by securing South Place Chapel as the building in which
it should be held the Committee were ensured against the possibility
of intolerant proprietors closing the doors of the hall upon them in
the midst of the discussion. The subject to be argued as chosen by
the Committee was, "Is Atheism, or is Christianity, the true Secular
Gospel, as tending to the improvement and happiness of mankind in this
life, by human efforts, and material means?" Mr Grant was to lead on
the first three nights, with objections to show that Atheism was not
the true Secular Gospel. Mr Bradlaugh on the remaining three nights was
to show that Christianity was not the true Secular Gospel. As might
have been expected, this debate was only a modified repetition of
what took place on the previous occasion; Mr Grant was certainly less
free of speech, but with all that he could not keep clear of personal
accusations and epithets which at times provoked much unseemly uproar
and confusion.
[Footnote 12: June and July 1875.]
Much has been said at one time or another about Mr Bradlaugh's
adoption of the views of Spinoza, and to leave his position perfectly
clear on that head I will quote the words he himself used in answer
to his opponent on the third night of this debate. "It is perfectly
true," he said, "that the argument as to one existence was adopted
from Spinoza.... The precise distinction between the views of Spinoza
and myself is this: Spinoza contended for the infinite attributes
of extension and intelligence. I cannot conceive the possibility of
attributes, except as the characteristics of the thing conditioned,
the mode thought, and, therefore, cannot conceive infinite attributes
at all. Spinoza held one existence, which, to him having infinite
intelligence, made him a Pantheist; and I, not able to conceive that,
stand to Spinoza in the relation of Atheist, and that is just the
distinction between my thought and that of Spinoza."
On the fourth night the Rev. A. Mursell took the chair, and made kindly
acknowledgment of the uniform courtesy he had all through received
from Mr Bradlaugh. On this, and for the remaining nights, my father,
according to the arrangements, had the debate. On each occasion his
opening speech was carefully prepared, and was listened to with the
most profound attention; but although a man may "lead" a debate, he
cannot compel his antagonist to follow, and on the fifth night the Rev.
Brewin Grant actually brought a manuscript prepared beforehand, which,
unless by the merest coincidence, could obviously be no kind of reply
to the arguments Mr Bradlaugh was advancing. This MS. he read very
quickly, and often almost inaudibly, and again his conduct resulted in
uproar and confusion. At the conclusion of Mr Bradlaugh's final speech,
although there was still one to come from the Rev. Brewin Grant, the
audience had become so incensed with that gentleman that the majority
determined to leave. Mr Grant thereupon bent down to his own reporter,
and read to him from his MS. quickly and in a low tone of voice. As it
was impossible to argue upon propositions which he could not hear, Mr
Bradlaugh also rose and left the building. On the sixth and last night
Mr M. D. Conway occupied the chair. At the very outset considerable
confusion was caused by Mr Grant's demand that some rules should be
read from a book which Mr Bradlaugh objected to as incorrect and
unauthorised. At length the chairman settled the matter by saying to Mr
Grant, "If you can give me the Divine Authority for the infallibility
of this little volume, I will read it all." When Mr Bradlaugh sat
down after his last speech, he had so moved the audience that they
called for three cheers for him; but he begged them, if they thought
he deserved praise, to show it by remaining perfectly quiet during the
fifteen minutes that Mr Grant had still to address them. His hearers
responded to his appeal, and listened mutely to the end.
A few words from a speech delivered by the Rev. Arthur Mursell, in the
Free Trade Hall, Manchester, in the spring of the following year,[13]
give some insight into the impression Mr Bradlaugh's eloquence
produced, even under such difficult circumstances as those of a debate
with Mr Grant. Said Mr Mursell:--
[Footnote 13: April 23rd, 1876.]
"I am indebted to one whom the world calls an Atheist, and who accepts
the designation, but whom, in social intimacy, I would rather call my
friend than thousands of the Christians whom I know; a man who, while
casting doubt upon Him I call my Master, has shown more of His spirit
in the practical intercourse of life, as far as I know it, than many a
champion of orthodoxy; a man of honest, though religiously benighted
creed, and eloquent tongue; to such a man I am indebted for a stimulus
to fervour in the cause of what I deem the vital truth, which prompts
me to attempt to press it home with emphasis upon you now. In public
debate upon the principles of Christianity which he opposed, he closed
a speech, smarting under what he deemed the too flippant satire of his
antagonist, in words something like these:--'If I believed in a God,
which I do not; if I believed in a hell to be escaped, which I do not;
if I believed in a heaven to be won, which I do not; do you imagine I
could allow myself to rack my brain in coining the paltry jests of a
buffoon, and tickling the groundlings' ears with quips and quirks? No!
I would exhaust the logic of my brain, and the passion of my heart, in
seeking to convince and persuade mankind that they might shun the one
and gain the other, and try to seal a testimony which should be worthy
of my conscience and my creed.' I felt condemned at my own apathy, as
the eloquent sceptic lifted before me the standard of fidelity."
The debate held ten months later with Mr Walter R. Browne, M.A.,
Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, is both pleasant and instructive
reading. The question discussed was, "Can miracles be proved possible?"
and the debate arose out of some lectures upon the subject of Miracles,
delivered a little while before by Mr Browne in Leeds. The discussion
was held in the Albert Hall, Leeds, on two evenings in April 1876. The
Mayor (Alderman Croft) presided at the request of the Vicar of Leeds,
and on both evenings there was a large audience of earnest and orderly
people, who gave the closest attention to the whole proceedings. The
report is pleasant reading, because one sees the undoubted intention
on the part of each disputant to make his position clear to the other
and to the audience; that he was influenced by no mere desire to catch
the other tripping for the sake of a moment's applause. The moods of
disputants and auditors seemed in complete harmony, and throughout
there was not the slightest sign of disturbance or disorder. Mr Browne
at the outset expressed his small confidence in the utility of public
debates as a means of arriving at truth, and thought they were of
little advantage either to the debaters or to the audience; but Mr
Bradlaugh met this by remarking that he thought "that every objection
which applies to a debate in public between two persons, applies with
equal, if not greater, force to an _ex parte_ statement made by one
person in public, and that the mere delivery of controversial lectures
upon such a subject necessitates that the person delivering the
controversial lecture should be prepared to recognise at least as much
utility in the clashing of his thought publicly with another man's,
disagreeing with him, as in the mere utterance of his own thought where
there is no one to check it at the moment."
The instructive character of the debate does not lie in any definite
conclusion which might be arrived at by a reader in doubt as to the
possibility or impossibility of miracles, but rather in a realisation
of the difficulty two capable men with different points of view may
have in settling upon a common meaning for certain words. In Mr
Browne's first speech he defined a miracle to be "a supernatural marvel
wrought by God," but this was a definition upon which they could not
agree, because Mr Browne would not accept Mr Bradlaugh's meaning for
"nature," as "the totality of all phenomena," and as equivalent to the
word "existence," or the word "universe," nor would he himself define
"God," for that, he said, was "beyond definition." The meaning of the
words "force" and "creation," the idea of "perception," the doctrine
of "free-will," and the existence of evil, all proved stumbling blocks
to the smooth course of the debate; but as Mr Browne truly said in his
concluding speech on the first evening, while it was true that they
had not at that time advanced very far in the argument, it was better
to make the ground sure as they went along than to attempt too much
before their conceptions were clear. Some of Mr Browne's arguments
were, for a trained speaker and debater, amazingly feeble. For example,
his objection to Mr Bradlaugh's definition of the word "nature" was
founded upon "the simple reason that such words as 'supernatural,'
'preternatural,' and 'unnatural,' are certainly used amongst us,"
and it did not seem to have occurred to him that these might be
merely instances of a popular misuse of words. He also thought that
the American War, which resulted in the abolition of slavery, showed
"conclusively that there was a God who governs the world;" in this
case his mind seemed to dwell only on the one fact of the abolition of
slavery, and to ignore the waste of human life and the horrors of the
war as well as the prior fact of the slavery itself.
Mr Bradlaugh has often been accused of talking about the "unknowable,"
but a passage from this debate will show in what sense he used the
word--if, indeed, he ever did use it. Referring to the allegation of
creation, he said: "To me creation is a word without meaning; I only
know creation in relation to change. I do not mean by it origination of
substance; I only mean change of condition. I do not mean the bringing
into being that which was not; I only mean the conditioning existence
by characteristics by which I had not hitherto conditioned it. I cannot
conceive the possibility of a period when existence was less than it
is now. I do not mean that because I cannot conceive it, therefore
it is not true. But I do mean that, as I cannot conceive it, you who
say you can are bound to give me your conception of it. Understand me
clearly, I do not put any such monstrous proposition in this debate
as that the inconceivable is therefore the untrue, or that because a
position is inconceivable to me, therefore I have a right to call on
all other men to reject it. But I do put it, that you have no right
to call upon me to accept any position which is inconceivable to me;
that you are bound to tell me how you conceive it before you have a
right to ask me to accept that it is possible." I do not remember to
have heard Mr Bradlaugh speak of the "unknowable;" and that he should
use such a term is quite contrary to the whole of my experience of his
careful methods of speech. In any case the above will serve to show
that he would not be likely to put "any such monstrous proposition," as
that the to him "unknowable" was therefore unknowable to men with wider
means of knowledge.
* * * * *
In June of the same year Mr Bradlaugh held a debate with Mr Robert
Roberts, a leader of a sect called the Christadelphians. He had
challenged Mr Bradlaugh to the discussion, and the subject selected
was, "Are the Scriptures the Authentic and Reliable Records of Divine
Revelation?" The question was to be argued for six nights, two at
Leicester and four at Birmingham. After the two nights at Leicester
Mr Bradlaugh avowed his disappointment; he had hoped that at any
rate the discussion would bring out some new thought, but after
two evenings' experience, he doubted whether that result would be
attained. "He may be a good preacher," said my father; "he is most
certainly not a good disputant." At Leicester the audience were small;
at Birmingham they were larger, but the debate does not seem to have
been any more enlightening. Mr Roberts was described by one of the
Birmingham auditors as "a man of considerable fluency of speech, and
overflowing with religious enthusiasm," and also "in all respects a
courteous gentleman," but unfortunately those qualities did not make
him a debater. On each evening a quarter of an hour was occupied by
each disputant in questioning his antagonist according to the Socratic
method, and this feature of the proceedings seemed specially to attract
the audience, although indeed it must require considerable practice
and skill before it can be successfully carried out. Mr Roberts
challenged Mr Bradlaugh to further debate, but this the latter felt
obliged to respectfully decline on the ground of the challenger's
"utter incompetency."
* * * * *
A few days later Mr Bradlaugh was at Liverpool discussing the necessity
for disestablishing and disendowing the State Church. His antagonist
was Mr William Simpson, the working men's candidate at Liverpool at the
general election of 1874. The Concert Hall, Lord Nelson Street, was
densely packed, and it was said that there were thousands unable to
obtain admission. The arguments were closely followed by those present,
and although there was no sort of disturbance, the audience were
sufficiently excited to give audible expression to their appreciation
or disapproval, and such interruptions were generally met by a sharp
repartee from the speaker of the moment.
Mr Simpson, while praised for his fluency, courage, and resource, was
not thought equal to his task,[14] and in reading the verbatim report
of the debate, one is drawn to the conclusion that he scored his
greatest successes when making his greatest jokes.
[Footnote 14: _Liverpool Post._]
* * * * *
My father had an unusual number of debates this year, and a little
later in the summer was at Darlington discussing with a Mr J. H. Gordon
on the question of "Atheism, is it rational?" The proceeds, after
paying expenses, were given to the Darlington Hospital. There was
no shorthand report, but in an article very hostile to Mr Bradlaugh
which appeared in a local paper, there is a description of him well
worth reproducing. The writer professed to think that my father's
Atheism--which he said, with that calm assurance born of ignorance,
paid him well "in money and gratified vanity"--was not a matter of
conviction, but merely the result of a desire to be in opposition
to the majority. He further ventured to prophesy that in Parliament
he would be a failure.[15] The following portrait of Mr Bradlaugh
sketched by a pen so unfriendly, is a singular testimony to his power:--
[Footnote 15: "At the Bar he would be a bully, in the pulpit a passing
sensation, on the stage a passion-tearing Othello, in the Press a
competent American editor, in Parliament a failure."]
"Mr Bradlaugh is a tall, muscular man, who stands firm on his legs,
with broad shoulders, between which is a massive, square, powerful
head. He dresses in plain black, relieved only by an ordinary
display of linen, and a slender watch chain. He is closely shaven
as a Roman priest. His features are large and open, his eyes are
of a grayish hue, and his hair, which is fast turning gray, falls
back from a brow on which intelligence, perception, and power are
strongly marked. He has a face which can be very pleasing and very
stern, but which conceals the emotion at will. As he sits listening
to the denunciations of his opponent the smile of incredulity, the
look of astonishment, the cloud of anger, pass quickly over his
countenance. Rising from his seat, and resting one hand upon the
table, he commences very quietly in a voice which, until the ear is
accustomed to it, sounds unpleasant and harsh, but which, when it
becomes stronger, loses much of its twang, and sounds almost musical.
His enunciation is singularly distinct, not one word being lost by the
audience. He addresses himself to all parts of the house--gallery as
well as body. When warmed by his subject, he advances to the centre
of the platform, and looking his audience full in the face, and with
right hand emphasizing every important sentence, he expresses himself
in tones so commanding and words so distinct that his hearers may
be hostile or friendly, but cannot be indifferent. One may retire
horrified at his sentiments, even disgusted at his irreverence and
audacity--from a Christian's standpoint--but no one would go to sleep
under him. He can be complimentary and humorous, but is more at home
in sarcasm and denunciation. He is never ponderous; nevertheless, the
grave suits him better than the gay. Cheering does not seem to affect
him, though he is by no means indifferent to it; but he is quick to
perceive disapproval, and is most powerful when most loudly hissed.
With head erect, face coloured with a flush which has in it a little
of defiance as well as earnestness, now emphasising with his right
hand, now with folded arms, now joining the tips of his fingers as
if to indicate the closeness of his reasoning, as he would have the
audience believe it, he stands defying opposition, even going out of
his way to increase it, and revelling in his Ishmaelism."
Then, comparing him with his opponent:--
"Mr Bradlaugh has not much action, but what he has is dignified, which
Mr Gordon's never is. He can be severe, even harsh, but never petulant
and peevish, which Mr Gordon frequently is. Mr Bradlaugh may abuse
his opponent, but it is boldly, not like a bad-tempered school-girl.
He can be pleasant, but never assumes the grimaces and gestures of
a Merry Andrew. His features are expressive, but he never pulls
faces. He is essentially a strong man, strong in his language and his
oratory, self-sustained, bold in the way he meets and even avoids the
topic of dispute."[16]
[Footnote 16: From the _Darlington and Stockton Times_.]
There are, of course, some phrases in this description which I should
contravene, but apart from these, it is a most vivid and lifelike
picture of my father as a speaker. It is, however, a mistake to
suppose that Mr Bradlaugh wantonly went out of his way to increase
opposition, or revelled in his "Ishmaelism;" what is quite true is,
that if in pursuing the path he had marked out for himself he increased
opposition, he went on just the same, and did not turn away by so
much as a hair's-breadth to avoid it. At heart he might be bitterly
wounded, but that did not make him falter. To take, for example, one
of the latest cases: when his attitude on the Employers' Liability
Bill provoked such a storm of opposition from the very men for whom he
worked, he wrote pathetically to a friend: "It is a little saddening to
me to find that in the close of my life I am to be regarded as doing
disservice to the men whom I desire to serve." But although he felt
the men's distrust thus keenly, he did not hesitate nor turn from his
course.
Nor did he revel in his "Ishmaelism;" he had no pride in being an
outcast, neither had he any shame in it; the shame of his position was
not his, it was theirs who thrust him into it. It shows a complete lack
of appreciation of the facts to suggest that a man like Mr Bradlaugh
could delight in being regarded as a sort of moral leper by his
fellow-men, who indeed neglected no means to exclude him and his from
society.
I have noticed these two points because it has been a common error
to assume that because my father did not quail before opposition,
therefore he courted it, and that because he was not ashamed when
the law said, "You are an Atheist, and as such you are outside our
protection," therefore he rejoiced in being so distinguished. Both
assumptions are equally and entirely without foundation.
* * * * *
In the same year also Mr Bradlaugh held a written discussion with
the Rev. John Lightfoot, of Wolverhampton, on the subject of
Eternal Torment. This controversy consisted of four letters from
each disputant, and was printed in the _National Reformer_; it was
afterwards issued in pamphlet form, and is still obtainable.
In 1877 he had too much work to allow him to indulge in public
discussions on theological subjects, but in 1878 he held a debate
with the Rev. R. A. Armstrong, a Unitarian minister much respected in
Nottingham. This encounter was the result of a lecture given by Mr
Bradlaugh in Nottingham in defence of Atheism, and as a reply to some
lectures delivered by Professor Max Müller under the Hibbert Trust.
Mr Armstrong offered some opposition at the close of Mr Bradlaugh's
address, and a debate was suggested. Nothing further was said at the
time, but the local Secular Society took the matter up, and pressed
Mr Armstrong in such "courteous and earnest terms," that after
consultation with his friends, he agreed to accept the challenge. The
subject selected for discussion was, "Is it reasonable to worship
God?" and the time appointed was the 5th and 6th of September. The
debate was a great success, not indeed as furnishing the audience
with a cut-and-dried answer "Yes" or "No" to the question argued by
the disputants--a result rarely, if ever, attained--but both sides
of the question were put forward with a calm and serious earnestness
which must have been very pleasant to listen to. Mr G. B. Rothera
made an admirably impartial chairman, and the audience, which crowded
every corner of the Co-operative Hall long before the hour fixed for
commencement, listened throughout with close and appreciative attention.
On the morning of the 5th Mr Bradlaugh had gone early to Coldbath
Fields Prison to attend the release of Edward Truelove from his six
months' imprisonment in defence of a free press. It had been a dull,
close morning, damp with the rain which had not long ceased falling;
inside the gaol the chaplain, not seeing my father and Mr Truelove's
son, had sneered at the crowd of Freethinkers waiting in the damp
and gloomy street without; had sneered, too, at the Freethinker, the
prisoner, within, whose age might have been his protection. This was
a sorry preparation for debate, but when the evening was over my
father said, "I left London in no mood for debating. Coldbath Fields
atmosphere hung about me all day, but the debate, as far as the first
night has gone, is the most pleasant one in which I have ever taken
part."
The discussion was afterwards republished as a pamphlet, to which Mr
Armstrong added, by invitation, a few prefatory words giving his
reasons for taking part in it, and suggesting books for study to those
who wished to learn more of the positive argument for Theism and
Worship.
* * * * *
The last debate in which Mr Bradlaugh took part prior to 1880 was
one in the early part of March 1879, with the Rev. W. M. Westerby, a
Congregational minister of Burnley. The subject agreed upon, and worded
by Mr Westerby, was, "Has, or is, man a soul?" The chair was taken on
each of the two evenings by the Rev. R. Littlehales, Baptist minister,
and the audiences were large and orderly. "The Rev. R. Littlehales
was thoroughly impartial" said Mr Bradlaugh, "quite doing his duty,
but scarcely saying a word that was not absolutely necessary." Of his
opponent Mr Westerby, he spoke as "an able speaker, with considerable
tact and judgment, and showing the utmost courtesy." The proceeds were
given to the Blackburn and East Lancashire Infirmary, without any
deduction for the expenses of the disputants. That was all very well
as far as Mr Westerby was concerned, for the discussion took place in
his own town; but Mr Bradlaugh had to journey from London to Burnley at
his own cost, and pay his own hotel expenses. This heavy tax he rightly
regarded as unreasonable, and such as should not have been demanded of
him, nevertheless he thought the result was worth the sacrifice, and
was glad he had made it. Indeed, this debate is regarded by many as
one of the best in which Mr Bradlaugh ever took part. Amongst them,
the Burnley and Preston papers gave about thirty-five columns of
report; leading articles were written and sermons were preached upon
the subject, and in that part of Lancashire, at least, the arguments
were pretty thoroughly discussed. A verbatim report was published,[17]
and in that and in a little pamphlet[18] issued many years before this
discussion, Mr Bradlaugh's position on the question of the "soul" is
fully set out.
[Footnote 17: "Has, or is, Man a Soul?" Two nights' debate with Rev. W.
M. Westerby.]
[Footnote 18: "Has Man a Soul?" Theological Essays by C. Bradlaugh,
vol. i.]