the book, they have only heard of it. They are unacquainted with the
strongest arguments, and even with the nature of the evidence. [11] Lord
Brougham, indeed, is generally reputed to have reviewed Mr. Taylor's book.
_That_ may be: it is probable enough: what I am denying is not at all
that Lord Brougham _reviewed_ Mr. Taylor, but that Lord Brougham _read_
Mr. Taylor. And there is not much wonder in _that_, when we see professed
writers on the subject--bulky writers--writers of Answers and Refutations,
dispensing with the whole of Mr. Taylor's book, single paragraphs of which
would have forced them to cancel their own. The possibility of scepticism,
after really _reading_ Mr. Taylor's book, would be the strongest
exemplification upon record of Sancho's proverbial reproach, that a man
'wanted better bread than was made of wheat--' would be the old case
renewed from the scholastic grumblers 'that some men do not know when they
are answered.' They have got their _quietus_, and they still continue to
'maunder' on with objections long since disposed of. In fact, it is not
too strong a thing to say--and Chief Justice Dallas _did_ say something
like it--that if Mr. Taylor is not right, if Sir Philip Francis is _not_
Junius, then was no man ever yet hanged on sufficient evidence. Even
confession is no absolute proof. Even confessing to a crime, the man may
be mad. Well, but at least seeing is believing: if the court sees a man
commit an assault, will not _that_ suffice? Not at all: ocular delusions
on the largest scale are common. What's a court? Lawyers have no better
eyes than other people. Their physics are often out of repair, and whole
cities have been known to see things that could have no existence. Now,
all other evidence is held to be short of this blank seeing or blank
confessing. But I am not at all sure of _that_. Circumstantial evidence,
that multiplies indefinitely its points of _internexus_ with known
admitted facts, is more impressive than direct testimony. If you detect a
fellow with a large sheet of lead that by many (to wit seventy) salient
angles, that by tedious (to wit thirty) reentrant angles, fits into and