heir unsubstantial nature. There is
a sort of gloss upon ingenious falsehoods that dazzles the imagination,
but which neither belongs to, nor becomes the sober aspect of truth. I
have met with a quotation in Lord Coke's Reports that pleased me very
much, though I do not know from whence he has taken it: "_Interdum
fucata falsitas_ (says he), _in multis est probabilior, at saepe
rationibus vincit nudam veritatem_." In such cases the writer has a
certain fire and alacrity inspired into him by a consciousness, that,
let it fare how it will with the subject, his ingenuity will be sure of
applause; and this alacrity becomes much greater if he acts upon the
offensive, by the impetuosity that always accompanies an attack, and
the unfortunate propensity which mankind have to the finding and
exaggerating faults. The editor is satisfied that a mind which has no
restraint from a sense of its own weakness, of its subordinate rank in
the creation, and of the extreme danger of letting the imagination loose
upon some subjects, may very plausibly attack everything the most
excellent and venerable; that it would not be difficult to criticise the
creation itself; and that if we were to examine the divine fabrics by
our ideas of reason and fitness, and to use the same method of attack by
which some men have assaulted revealed religion, we might with as good
color, and with the same success, make the wisdom and power of God in
his creation appear to many no better than foolishness. There is an air
of plausibility which accompanies vulgar reasonings and notions, taken
from the beaten circle of ordinary experience, that is admirably suited
to the narrow capacities of some, and to the laziness of others. But
this advantage is in a great measure lost, when a painful, comprehensive
survey of a very complicated matter, and which requires a great variety
of considerations, is to be made; when we must seek in a profound
subject, not only for arguments, but for new materials of argument,
their measures and their method of arrangement; when we must go out of
the sphere of our ordinary ideas, and when we can never walk surely, but
by being sensible of our blindness. And this we must do, or we do
nothing, whenever we examine the result of a reason which is not our
own. Even in matters which are, as it were, just within our reach, what
would become of the world, if the practice of all moral duties, and the
foundations of society, rested upon having their