was published.
The indignant reference to poor Finn's want of delicacy in forcing
himself upon Mr. Kennedy on the Sabbath afternoon, was, of course,
a tissue of lies. The visit had been made almost at the instigation
of the editor himself. The paper from beginning to end was full of
falsehood and malice, and had been written with the express intention
of creating prejudice against the man who had offended the writer.
But Mr. Slide did not know that he was lying, and did not know that
he was malicious. The weapon which he used was one to which his hand
was accustomed, and he had been led by practice to believe that the
use of such weapons by one in his position was not only fair, but
also beneficial to the public. Had anybody suggested to him that he
was stabbing his enemy in the dark, he would have averred that he
was doing nothing of the kind, because the anonymous accusation of
sinners in high rank was, on behalf of the public, the special duty
of writers and editors attached to the public press. Mr. Slide's
blood was running high with virtuous indignation against our hero as
he inserted those last cruel words as to the choice of an obscure but
honest profession.

Phineas Finn read the article before he sat down to breakfast on the
following morning, and the dagger went right into his bosom. Every
word told upon him. With a jaunty laugh within his own sleeve he had
assured himself that he was safe against any wound which could be
inflicted on him from the columns of the _People's Banner_. He had
been sure that he would be attacked, and thought that he was armed
to bear it. But the thin blade penetrated every joint of his harness,
and every particle of the poison curdled in his blood. He was hurt
about Lady Laura; he was hurt about his borough of Tankerville; he
was hurt by the charges against him of having outraged delicacy;
he was hurt by being handed over to the tender mercies of Major
Mackintosh; he was hurt by the craft with which the Vice-Chancellor's
injunction had been evaded; but he was especially hurt by the
allusions to his own poverty. It was necessary that he should earn
his bread, and no doubt he was a seeker after place. But he did not
wish to obtain wages without working for them; and he did not see why
the work and wages of a public office should be less honourable than
those of any other profession. To him, with his ideas, there was no
profession so honourable, as certainly there were none which dem