In an unfriendly controversy it is important to remember that the
public, in most cases, neither cares for the outcome of the fray, nor
will remember its incidents. The controversialist should therefore
confine his efforts and powers to accomplishment of two main purposes:
1—entertainment of the reader: 2—personal gratification. For the first
of these objects no rules can be given; the good writer will entertain
and the bad one will not, no matter what is the subject. The second is
accomplishable (a) by guarding your self-respect; (b) by destroying
your adversary’s self-respect; (c) by making him respect you, against
his will, as much as you respect yourself; (d) by provoking him into
the blunder of permitting you to despise him. It follows that any
falsification, prevarication, dodging, misrepresentation or other
cheating on the part of one antagonist is a distinct advantage to the
other, and by him devoutly to be wished. The public cares nothing for
it, and if deceived will forget the deception; but _he_ never
forgets. I would no more willingly let my opponent find a flaw in my
truth, honesty and frankness than in fencing I would let him beat down
my guard. Of that part of victory which consists in respecting yourself
and making your adversary respect you you can be always sure if you
are worthy of respect; of that part which consists in despising him
and making him despise himself you are not sure; that depends on his
skill. He may be a very despicable person yet so cunning of fence—that
is to say, so frank and honest in writing—that you will not find out
his unworth. Remember that what you want is not so much to disclose
his meanness to the reader (who cares nothing about it) as to make him
disclose it to your private discernment. That is the whole gospel of
controversial strategy.
You are one of two gladiators in the arena: your first duty is to amuse
the multitude. But as the multitude is not going to remember very long
after leaving the show who was victorious, it is not worth while to
take any hurts for a merely visible advantage. So fight as to prove to
yourself and to your adversary that you are the abler swordsman—that
is, the more honorable man. Victory in that is important, for it is
lasting, and is enjoyed ever afterward when you see or think of the
vanquished. If in the battle I get a foul stroke, that is a distinct
gain, for I never by any possibility forget that the man who delivered
it is a foul man. That is what I wanted to think him, and the very
thing which he should most strenuously have striven to prevent my
knowing. I may meet him in the street, at the club, any place where I
can not help it; under whatever circumstances he becomes present to my
consciousness I find a fresh delight in recalling my moral superiority
and in despising him anew. Is it not strange, then, that ninety-nine
disputants in a hundred deliberately and in cold blood concede to
their antagonists this supreme and decisive advantage in pursuit of one
which is merely illusory? Their faults are, first, of course, lack of
character; second, lack of sense. They are like an enraged mob engaged
in hostilities without having taken the trouble to know something of
the art of war. Happily for them, if they are defeated they do not know
it: they have not even the sense to ascribe their sufferings to their
wounds.
1899.