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to be withdrawn again_."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
hot-headed 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 _woul