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I have an overtuon to reply to his argumens in serat & mar alternative, but I should have been when persed to have been allowed to take aber ve a time.

But I have not yet done full justice to the method A deputation, which Mr. Kingsley thinks it right 4 woh. Oserve this first:-He means by a mwa mto je “ellly" not a man who is to be pitied, but a man who is to be abhorred. He means a man who is not simply weak and incapable, but a moral Lepay, a man who, if not a knave, has every thing bad about him except knavery; nay, rather, has together with every other worst vice, a spice of kuwvery to boot. His simpleton is one who has become much, in judgment for his having once been

a knave. His simpleton is not a born fool, but a self-made idiot, one who has drugged and abused himself into a shameless depravity; one, who, without any misgiving or remorse, is guilty of drivelling superstition, of reckless violation of sacred things, of fanatical excesses, of passionate inanities, of unmanly audacious tyranny over the weak, meriting the wrath of fathers and brothers. This is that milder judgment, which he seems to pride himself upon as so much charity; and, as he expresses it, he "does not know" why. This is what he really meant in his letter to me of January 14, when he withdrew his charge of my being dishonest. He said, He said, "The tone of your letters, even more than their language, makes me feel, to my very deep pleasure,"-what? that you have gambled away your reason, that you are an intellectual sot, that you are a fool in a frenzy. And in his Pamphlet, he gives us this explanation why he did not say this to my face, viz. that he had been told that I was "in weak health," and was "averse to controversy," pp. 6 and 8. He "felt some regret for having disturbed me."

But I pass on from these multiform imputations, and confine myself to this one consideration, viz. that he has made any fresh imputation upon me at all. He gave up the charge of knavery; well and good: but where was the logical necessity of his bringing another? I am sitting at home without a thought of Mr. Kingsley; he wantonly breaks in upon

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me with the charge that I had "informed" the
world "that Truth for its own sake need not and
on the whole ought not to be a virtue with the
Roman clergy." When challenged on the point
he cannot bring a fragment of evidence in proof
of his assertion, and he is convicted of false
witness by the voice of the world. Well, I should
have thought that he had now nothing whatever
more to do. "Vain man!" he seems to make
answer, "what simplicity in you to think so!
you have not broken one commandment, let us
see whether we cannot convict you of the breach
of another. If you are not a swindler or forger,
you are guilty of arson or burglary. By hook
or by crook you shall not escape. Are you to
suffer or I? What does it matter to you who
are going off the stage, to receive a slight
additional daub upon a character so deeply stained
already? But think of me, the immaculate lover
of Truth, so observant (as I have told you p. 8) of
hault courage and strict honour,'—and (aside)—
' and not as this publican '-do you think I can let
you go scot free instead of myself? No; noblesse
oblige. Go to the shades, old man, and boast that
Achilles sent you thither."

But I have not even yet done with Mr. Kingsley's method of disputation. Observe secondly:-when a man is said to be a knave or a fool, it is commonly meant that he is either the one or the other; and that,—either in the sense that

:

the hypothesis of his being a fool is too absurd to be entertained; or, again, as a sort of contemptuous acquittal of one, who after all has not wit enough to be wicked. But this is not at all what Mr. Kingsley proposes to himself in the antithesis which he suggests to his readers. Though he speaks of me as an utter dotard and fanatic, yet all along, from the beginning of his Pamphlet to the end, he insinuates, he proves from my writings, and at length in his last pages he openly pronounces, that after all he was right at first, in thinking me a conscious liar and deceiver.

Now I wish to dwell on this point. It cannot be doubted, I say, that, in spite of his professing to consider me as a dotard and driveller, on the ground of his having given up the notion of my being a knave, yet it is the very staple of his Pamphlet that a knave after all I must be. By insinuation, or by implication, or by question, or by irony, or by sneer, or by parable, he enforces again and again a conclusion which he does not categorically enunciate.

For instance (1) P. 14. "I know that men used to suspect Dr. Newman, I have been inclined to do so myself, of writing a whole sermon. . . . for the sake of one single passing hint, one phrase, one epithet, one little barbed arrow which . he delivered unheeded, as with his finger tip, to the very heart of an initiated hearer, never to be withdrawn again."

(2) P. 15. "How was I to know that the preacher, who had the reputation of being the most acute man of his generation, and of having a specially intimate acquaintance with the weaknesses of the human heart, was utterly blind to the broad meaning and the plain practical result of a sermon like this, delivered before fanatic and hotheaded young men, who hung upon his every word? That he did not foresee that they would think that they obeyed him, by becoming affected, artificial, sly, shifty, ready for concealments and equivocations?"

(3) P. 17. "No one would have suspected him to be a dishonest man, if he had not perversely chosen to assume a style which (as he himself confesses) the world always associates with dishonesty."

(4) Pp. 29, 30. "If he will indulge in subtle paradoxes, in rhetorical exaggerations; if, whenever he touches on the question of truth and honesty, he will take a perverse pleasure in saying something shocking to plain English notions, he must take the consequences of his own eccentricities."

(5) P. 34. "At which most of my readers will be inclined to cry: 'Let Dr. Newman alone, after that. He had a human reason once, no

doubt but he has gambled it away.'. . .

so true, &c."

True:

(6) P. 34. He continues: "I should never have written these pages, save because it was my duty to