Several of the readers of this little work (first published in 1819)
have derived much amusement from the mistakes of others respecting its
nature and object. It has been by some represented as a serious
attempt to inculcate universal scepticism; while others have
considered it as a jeu d'esprit, &c.[1] The author does not, however,
design to entertain his readers with accounts of the mistakes which,
have arisen respecting it; because many of them, he is convinced,
would be received with incredulity; and he could not, without an
indelicate exposure of individuals, verify his anecdotes.
But some sensible readers have complained of the difficulty of
determining _what_ they are to believe. Of the existence of
Buonaparte, indeed, they remained fully convinced; nor, if it were
left doubtful, would any important results ensue; but if they can give
no _satisfactory reason_ for their conviction, how can they know, it
is asked, that they may not be mistaken as to other points of greater
consequence, on which they are no less fully convinced, but on which
all men are _not_ agreed? The author has accordingly been solicited to
endeavour to frame some canons which may furnish a standard for
determining what evidence is to be received.
This he conceives to be impracticable, except to that extent to which
it is accomplished by a sound system of Logic; including under that
title, a portion--that which relates to the "Laws of Evidence"--of
what is sometimes treated under the head of "Rhetoric." But the full
and complete accomplishment of such an object would confer on Man the
unattainable attribute of infallibility.
But the difficulty complained of, he conceives to arise, in many
instances, from men's _mis-stating the grounds of their own
conviction_. They are convinced, indeed, and perhaps with very
sufficient reason; but they imagine this reason to be a different one
from what it is. The evidence to which they have assented is applied
to their minds in a different manner from that in which they believe
that it is--and suppose that it ought to be--applied. And when
challenged to defend and justify their own belief, they feel at a
loss, because they are attempting to maintain a position which is
not, in fact, that in which their force lies.
For a development of the nature, the consequences, and the remedies of
this mistake, the reader is referred to "Hinds on Inspiration," pp.
30-46. If such a development is to be found in any earlier works, the
Author of the following pages at least has never chanced to meet with
any attempt of the kind.[2]
It has been objected, again, by some persons of no great logical
accuracy of thought, that as there would not be any _moral blame_
imputable to one who should seriously disbelieve, or doubt, the
existence of Buonaparte, so neither is a rejection of the
Scripture-histories to be considered as implying anything morally
culpable.
The same objection, such as it is, would apply equally to many of the
Parables of the New Testament. It might be said, for instance, that as
a woman who should decline taking the trouble of searching for her
lost "piece of silver," or a merchant who should neglect making an
advantageous purchase of a "goodly pearl," would be guilty of no moral
wrong, it must follow that there is nothing morally wrong in
neglecting to reclaim a lost sinner, or in rejecting the Gospel, &c.
But any man of common sense readily perceives that the force of these
parables consists in the circumstance that men do _not_ usually show
this carelessness about temporal goods; and, therefore, are guilty of
gross and culpable _inconsistency_, if they are comparatively
careless about what is far more important.
So, also, in the present case. If any man's mind were so constituted
as to reject the same evidence in _all_ matters alike--if, for
instance, he really doubted or disbelieved the existence of
Buonaparte, and considered the Egyptian pyramids as fabulous, because,
forsooth, he had no "experience" of the erection of such huge
structures, and _had_ experience of travellers telling huge lies--he
would be regarded, perhaps, as very silly, or as insane, but not as
morally culpable. But if (as is intimated in the concluding sentence
of this work) a man is influenced in one case by objections which, in
another case, he would deride, then he stands convicted of being
unfairly biassed by his prejudices.
It is only necessary to add, that as this work first appeared in the
year 1819, many things are spoken of in the present tense, to which
the past would now be applicable.
Postscripts have been added to successive editions in reference to
subsequent occurrences.