learly refers to _Falstaff_'s lyes only _as such_; and the
objection seems to be, that he had not told them well, and with sufficient
skill and probability. Indeed nothing seems to have been required of
_Falstaff_ at any period of time but a good evasion. The truth is, that
there is so much mirth, and so little of malice or imposition in his
fictions, that they may for the most part be considered as mere strains of
humour and exercises of wit, impeachable only for defect, when that
happens, of the quality from which they are principally derived. Upon this
occasion _Falstaff_'s evasions fail him; he is at the end of his
invention; and it seems fair that, in defect of wit, the law should pass
upon him, and that he should undergo the temporary censure of that
Cowardice which he could not pass off by any evasion whatever. The best he
could think of, was _instinct_: He was indeed a _Coward upon instinct_; in
that respect _like a valiant lion, who would not touch the true Prince_.
It would have been a vain attempt, the reader will easily perceive, in
_Falstaff_, to have gone upon other ground, and to have aimed at
justifying his Courage by a serious vindication: This would have been to
have mistaken the true point of argument: It was his _lyes_, not his
_Courage_, which was really in question. There was besides no getting out
of the toils in which he had entangled himself: If he was not, he ought at
least, by his own shewing, to have _been at half-sword with a dozen of
them two hours together_; whereas, it unfortunately appears, and that too
evidently to be evaded, that he had run with singular celerity from _two_,
after the exchange of _a few __ blows_ only. This precluded _Falstaff_
from all rational defence in his own person;--but it has not precluded me,
who am not the advocate of his _lyes_, but of his _Courage_.

But there are other singularities in _Falstaff_'s lyes, which go more
directly to his vindication.--That they are confined to one scene and one
occasion only, we are not _now_ at a loss to account for;--but what shall
we say to their extravagance? The lyes of _Parolles_ and _Bobadill_ are
brought into some shape; but the fictions of _Falstaff_ are so
preposterous and _incomprehensible_, that one may fairly doubt if they
ever were intended for credit; and therefore, if they ought to be called
_lyes_, and not rather _humour_; or, to compound the matter, _humourous
rhodomontades_. Certain it is, that they destroy th