as we shall see by
and by) he is not quite sure which, probably both. He tells his
readers that on one occasion he said that he had fears I should "end
in one or other of two misfortunes." "He would either," he continues,
"destroy his own sense of honesty, _i.e._ conscious truthfulness--and
become a dishonest person; or he would destroy his common sense,
_i.e._ unconscious truthfulness, and become the slave and puppet
seemingly of his own logic, really of his own fancy.... I thought for
years past that he had become the former; I now see that he has
become the latter." (p. 20). Again, "When I read these outrages upon
common sense, what wonder if I said to myself, 'This man cannot
believe what he is saying?'" (p. 26). Such has been Mr. Kingsley's
state of mind till lately, but now he considers that I am possessed
with a spirit of "almost boundless silliness," of "simple
credulity, the child of scepticism," of "absurdity" (p. 41), of a
"self-deception which has become a sort of frantic honesty" (p. 26).
And as to his fundamental reason for this change, he tells us, he
really does not know what it is (p. 44). However, let the reason be
what it will, its upshot is intelligible enough. He is enabled at
once, by this professed change of judgment about me, to put forward
one of these alternatives, yet to keep the other in reserve;--and
this he actually does. He need not commit himself to a definite
accusation against me, such as requires definite proof and admits of
definite refutation; for he has two strings to his bow;--when he is
thrown off his balance on the one leg, he can recover himself by the
use of the other. If I demonstrate that I am not a knave, he may
exclaim, "Oh, but you are a fool!" and when I demonstrate that I am
not a fool, he may turn round and retort, "Well, then, you are a
knave." I have no objection to reply to his arguments in behalf of
either alternative, but I should have been better pleased to have
been allowed to take them one at a time.

But I have not yet done full justice to the method of disputation,
which Mr. Kingsley thinks it right to adopt. Observe this first:--He
means by a man who is "silly" 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 leper; a man who, if not a knave, has
everything bad about him except knavery; nay, rather, has together
with every other worst vice, a spice of knavery to boot. _His_
si