Indictment, like that of all my predecessors, charged me with bringing
the Holy Scriptures and the Christian religion "into disbelief and
contempt." With all respect to Lord Coleridge's authority, I cannot but
think that Sir James Stephen is right in maintaining that the crime of
blasphemy consists in the expression of certain opinions, and that it
is only an _aggravation_ of the crime to express them in "offensive"
language.

Judge North, on my first trial, plainly told the jury that any denial
of the existence of Deity or of Providence was blasphemy; although on
my second trial, in order to procure a conviction, he narrowed his
definition to "any contumelious or profane scoffing at the Holy
Scriptures or the Christian religion." It is evident, therefore, what
his lordship believes the law to be. With a certain order of minds it is
best to deal sharply; their first statements are more likely to be
true than their second. For the rest, Judge North is unworthy of
consideration. It is remarkable that, although he charged the jury
twice in my case, Sir James Stephen does not regard his views as worth a
mention.

Lord Coleridge says the law of blasphemy "is undoubtedly a disagreeable
law," and in my opinion he lets humanity get the better of his legal
judgment. He lays it down that "if the decencies of controversy are
observed, even the fundamentals of religion may be attacked without a
person being guilty of blasphemous libel."

Now such a decision can only be a stepping-stone to the abolition of the
law. Who can define "the decencies of controversy?" Everyone has his own
criterion in such matters, which is usually unconscious and fluctuating.
What shocks one man pleases another. Does not the proverb say that one
man's meat is another man's poison? Lord Coleridge reduces Blasphemy to
a matter of taste, and _de gustibus non est disputandum_. According to
this view, the prosecution has simply to put any heretical work into the
hands of a jury, and say, "Gentlemen, do you like that? If you do, the
prisoner is innocent; if you do not, you must find him guilty." Such
a law puts a rope round the neck of every writer who soars above
commonplace, or has any gift of wit or humor. It hands over the
discussion of all important topics to pedants and blockheads, and bans
the _argumentum ad absurdum_ which has been employed by all the great
satirists from Aristophanes to Voltaire.

When Bishop South was reproached by an Episcopal b