how propositions lie towards each other--how a theory hangs together,
and what will follow if it be admitted.'

It is eminently desirable that we should consider the logical termini
of our opinions. Travelling up to town last month from the West, a
gentleman got into my carriage at Swindon, who, as we moved off and
began to rush through the country, became unable to restrain his
delight at our speed. His face shone with pride, as if he were pulling
us himself. 'What a charming train!' he exclaimed. 'This is the pace I
like to travel at.' I indicated assent. Shortly afterwards, when our
windows rattled as we rushed through Reading, he let one of them down
in a hurry, and cried out in consternation, 'Why, I want to get out
here.' 'Charming train,' I observed. 'Just the pace I like to travel
at; but it _is_ awkward if you want to go anywhere except
Paddington.' My companion made no reply; his face ceased to shine, and
as he sat whizzing past his dinner, I mentally compared his recent
exultation with that of those who in the present day extol much of its
spirit, use many of its arguments, and partake in most of its
triumphs, in utter ignorance as to whitherwards it is all tending as
surely as the Great Western rails run into Paddington. 'Poor victims!'
said a distinguished Divine, addressing the Evangelicals, then
rejoicing over their one legal victory, the 'Gorham Case'; 'do you
dream that the spirit of the age is working for you, or are you
secretly prepared to go further than you avow?'

Mr. Matthew Arnold's friends, the Nonconformists, are, as a rule,
nowadays, bad logicians. What Dr. Newman has said of the Tractarians
is (with but a verbal alteration) also true of a great many
Nonconformists: 'Moreover, there are those among them who have very
little grasp of principle, even from the natural temper of their