I feel it rather odd, that Mr Arnold begins by complimenting me with 'genuine learning', and proceeds to appeal from me to the 'living scholar'. (What if I were bluntly to reply: 'Well! I am the living scholar'?) After starting the question, how Homer's style appeared to Sophocles, he suddenly enters a plea, under form of a concession ['I confess'!], as a pretence for carrying the cause into a new court, that of the Provost of Eton and two Professors, into which court I have no admission; and then, of his own will, pronounces a sentence in the name of these learned men. Whether they are pleased with this parading of their name in behalf of paradoxical error, I may well doubt: and until they indorse it themselves, I shall treat Mr Arnold's process as a piece of forgery. But, be this as it may, I cannot allow him to 'confess' for me against me: let him confess for himself that he does not know, and not for me, who know perfectly well, whether Homer seemed quaint or antiquated to Sophocles. Of course he did, as every beginner must know. Why, if I were to write mon for man, londis for lands, nesties for nests, libbard for leopard, muchel for much, nap for snap, green-wood shaw for greenwood shade, Mr Arnold would call me antiquated, although every word would be intelligible. Can he possibly be ignorant, that this exhibits but the smallest part of the chasm which separates the
