d against me, John Henry Newman, and to
infuse into the imaginations of my readers, suspicion and mistrust of
everything that I may say in reply to him. This I call _poisoning the
wells_.

"I am henceforth in _doubt and fear_," he says, "as much as any
_honest_ man can be, _concerning every word_ Dr. Newman may write.
_How can I tell that I shall not be the dupe of some cunning
equivocation?_ ... What proof have I, that by 'mean it? I never said
it!' Dr. Newman does not signify, 'I did not say it, but I did mean
it'?"

Well, I can only say, that, if his taunt is to take effect, I am but
wasting my time in saying a word in answer to his foul calumnies; and
this is precisely what he knows and intends to be its fruit. I can
hardly get myself to protest against a method of controversy so base
and cruel, lest in doing so, I should be violating my self-respect
and self-possession; but most base and most cruel it is. We all know
how our imagination runs away with us, how suddenly and at what a
pace;--the saying, "Caesar's wife should not be suspected," is an
instance of what I mean. The habitual prejudice, the humour of the
moment, is the turning-point which leads us to read a defence in a
good sense or a bad. We interpret it by our antecedent impressions.
The very same sentiments, according as our jealousy is or is not
awake, or our aversion stimulated, are tokens of truth or of
dissimulation and pretence. There is a story of a sane person being
by mistake shut up in the wards of a lunatic asylum, and that, when
he pleaded his cause to some strangers visiting the establishment,
the only remark he elicited in answer was, "How naturally he talks!
you would think he was in his senses." Controversies should be
decided by the reason; is it legitimate warfare to appeal to the
misgivings of the public mind and to its dislikings? Anyhow, if
Mr. Kingsley is able thus to practise upon my readers, the more I
succeed, the less will be my success. If I am natural, he will tell
them, "Ars est celare artem;" if I am convincing, he will suggest
that I am an able logician; if I show warmth, I am acting the
indignant innocent; if I am calm, I am thereby detected as a smooth
hypocrite; if I clear up difficulties, I am too plausible and perfect
to be true. The more triumphant are my statements, the more certain
will be my defeat.

So will it be if Mr. Kingsley succeeds in his manoeuvre; but I do
not for an instant believe that he will. What