gestions of sober reason; their attention is rivited to one particular view; they form their opinions with sceming deliberation, from circumstances which would be little regarded by minds of a sounder state, but which, seen through the medium of a distorted imagination, appear with an overpowering magnitude; and in fact, if a deep impression is made by any recital seriously delivered, or by any idea whose falsehood is not manifest, the strength of the impression is very apt to be mistaken for a sure proof of its reality. Even in cases where the greatest calmness and deliberation might be expected, and among those whose profession it is to investigate truth—the ambition of founding a sect, or displaying intellectual superiority—the veneration for great names, or long established opinions—and the anxiety to penetrate into the mysteries of nature—have sometimes produced, not modest querists and patient inquirers, but zealous preachers and zealous believers of the most fanciful creeds of philosoophy; about the influence of the stars; the whirlpools that guide the planets in their course; about the concavity or internal regions of the earth; and about the formation of the skull as furnishing a sure index to the passions and propensities.
If such dreams are indulged in the calm investigation of philosophy, what are we to expect when the mind is dazzled by supernatural objects, animated by supernatural hopes, and pressed upon the understanding by supernatural terrors? Our wonder therefore ceases, that mankind apparently delight in being misled by the grossest delusions; that the pure truths of Christianity are so strangely mingled with the wildest fancies that can be imagined by the lunatic, or invented by the designing knave.
"Every age of the world has produced impostors and delusions. Jannes and Jambers withstood Moses, and were followed by Pharaoh, his court and clergy. To say nothing
