hat you can knock a man down with one hand, and
pick him up with the other.

To take a more serious case. De Quincey undertakes to refute Hume's
memorable argument against miracles. There are few better arenas for
intellectual combats, and De Quincey has in it an unusual opportunity
for display. He is obviously on his mettle. He comes forward with a
whole battery of propositions, carefully marshalled in strategical
order, and supported by appropriate 'lemmas.' One of his arguments,
whether cogent or not, is that Hume's objection will not apply to the
evidence of a multitude of witnesses. Now, a conspicuous miracle, he
says, can be produced resting on such evidence, to wit, that of the
thousands fed by a few loaves and fishes. The simplest infidel will, of
course, reply that as these thousands of witnesses cannot be produced,
the evidence open to us reduces itself to that of the Evangelists. De
Quincey recollects this, and replies to it in a note. 'Yes,' he says,
'the Evangelists certainly; and, let us add, all those contemporaries to
whom the Evangelists silently appealed. These make up the "multitude"
contemplated in the case' under consideration. That is, to make up the
multitude, you have to reckon as witnesses all those persons who did not
contradict the 'silent appeal,' or whose contradiction has not reached
us. With such canons of criticism it is hard to say what might not be
proved. When a man with a great reputation for learning and logical
ability tries to put us off with these wretched quibbles, one is fairly
bewildered. He shows an ignorance of the real strength and weakness of
the position, which, but for his reputation, one would summarily explain
by incapacity for reasoning. As it is, we must suppose that, living
apart from the daily battle of life, he had lost that quick instinct
possessed by all genuine logicians for recognising the vital points of
an argument. A day in a court of justice would have taught him more
about evidence than a month spent over Aristotle. He had become fitter
for the parade of the fencing-room than for the real thrust and parry of
a duel in earnest. The mere rhetorical flourish pleases him as much as a
blow at his antagonist's heart. Another glaring instance in the same
paper is his apparent failure to perceive that there is a difference
between proving that such a prophecy as that announcing the fall of
Babylon was fulfilled, and proving that it was supernaturally inspired.
Hum